The Red Lock Hostel – A Ghost Story, Part 3 of 4 [Str8] [ghost] [fantasy] [anal] [M+F]

See comments for parts 1 and 2.
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The next morning, Bill and Eric were gone! I remembered them falling asleep with me, but I did not recall them leaving my bed. I got out of bed and put on my slippers and some sweatpants, since I had nothing on but my camisole from the night before. I looked around and saw their beds were made and their bags were gone. Could it have all been a dream?

I turned to the window and saw rain downpouring with big, heavy raindrops battering the glass. Feeling awfully forlorn upon realising the weather made for a poor day to explore and about my missing fun buddies, I took a stroll through the house and found myself at the front desk. The host was there working on something; he looked up at me and gave a charming smile, “Did you sleep well miss?”

I nodded and gave a shy smile in return. He was quite attractive, with his smile, strong jaw, and dark eyes. He had short, spikey black hair and was tall and thin, but still muscular. He just wasn’t big and burly like the other two guys I fucked last night–thinking about that image made my cheeks flush and the host seemed to notice. “Is there…something you need, miss?” His voice was deep yet airy, an odd combination.

“Um…actually, I was curious if you saw the two guys who were in my room from yesterday. We were… hanging out, and they didn’t even say goodbye,” I said innocently.

A small frown crossed his face and I saw his eyes flicker up to the corner of the ceiling, but he immediately refixed his gaze on me and smiled again. “I am sorry to hear about your friends. My records say here that they only booked a single night. So they must have left. Could I interest you in some tea to cheer you up?”

“Thank you, yes that sounds wonderful, actually! I am really not super sad. I didn’t know them well after all…” I said.

He walked to the kitchen and I followed, where he proceeded to make Earl Grey tea for us both while we chatted for some time. He was very mysterious, and he refused to give any information other than the fact that the hostel was also his home. He only added that it had always been his dream to open a place that welcomed travelers of all types. While he seemed cheery as I primarily spoke of myself, the purpose of my trip, etcetera, a dark look flashed over his eyes when he asked me, “So, how was your first night here, after all?”

I felt embarrassed, unsure of what to say and suddenly wondering if I had made too much noise. Definitely made too much noise, but best to play dumb. “Well, the bed was comfortable…I can’t really think of any improvements you could make. Although, I wouldn’t mind a change of sheets…”

He sat on the edge of his seat, “Oh? That is odd, I didn’t expect patrons to need a change of sheets after a single night. I hope everything was…alright.” He seemed…angry? Tense? Hungry? I started to feel uncomfortable because the look on his face not only scared me, but it also made the blood rush to my cheeks. I didn’t even notice that I had started to bite my lower lip, and the look on his face only intensified.

“You can’t bite your lip like that,” he said with a low, husky voice.

“Um…sorry? Maybe I should go…”

“No. Come. Follow me,” said the host. He got up, extended his hand, which I reluctantly took before I followed him down the hall.

My heart raced as he dragged me up a spiral staircase. Why was his hand so cold? As soon as we got to the top, he grabbed me by the waist and pinned me against a door. He got really close to my face, and my mouth salivated against my will. “You think you can just waltz around my house wearing this tiny shirt with no bra, bite that delicate bottom lip of yours, and think no one is going to say something? You get excited when you’re scared and embarrassed. I know. I see it in the way you’re biting your lip again, and I saw it last night,” he whispered. My head started spinning, trying to wrap my mind around what he said. My hands had a mind of their own, as they touched his chest and ran down his sides. He gave a low, oddly familiar groan.

“Oh my god,” I looked up at him with so much confusion and horror. Everything clicked. The Host…was the ghost!

He pressed his body up against me and groaned, “Yesss, it was me who first brought you onto your knees, dripping from all of your holes, begging for more.” When I didn’t shy away and stayed where I was, he started playing with the strings on my sweatpants. “But we were…interrupted. There was nothing I could do, not without revealing myself or ruining my business or losing your potential interest forever.” He banged his fist on the door next to my face, making me jump. I felt so conflicted! I felt mystically drawn to this odd man, but he was clearly crazy, especially after what happened next.

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Part 4 coming later this weekend! Get ready.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/aap8b6/the_red_lock_hostel_a_ghost_story_part_3_of_4