She Came With the House (Closed)

The thick panes of glass loosely nailed into the old Victorian door rattled louder than Leo expected as he fought the lock. The rusted deadbolt fought like a rented mule to keep his key from allowing him inside, but even that lock seemed new compared to the shape of the door itself. Once it gave way, paint chips fluttered from the frame and blown inside with the sudden rush of outside air into the stale house.

Now with the portal open, Leo took a moment to breathe deep the smell of old. While only vacant for a few months, the house just had that smell of years rolling across his face and made him all that more excited for what lie ahead. This was an investment, a true investment. Sure, Leo was only 28, but after paying his student loans off and working up his credit score, he finally reached the point where he can buy a house. Good thing was that the plumbing worked, the floors were in good shape, and enough of the electrical was in working order that the could live out of the place while he fixed it up. But this wasn’t just a fixer. It was a hobby house, like his dad always bought. Somewhere where he could tear up carpets, tear down walls, build up cupboards, lay down tile, put up sheetrock, and turn this old house into a new place.

Leo assumed it would take a while, between having to scrimp and save for the stuff to buy for one thing, but also he wanted to do it all himself - no contractors, no additional hands. He’d be lucky if he could get it redone in four years. Maybe by that time, it wouldn’t just be a project .. it would be a home … a place for his wife, his kids, his dog.

Of course, he doesn’t have a dog … or kids … or a wife ... or girlfriend.

Not that he’s not into that. The dark haired DIYer is pretty fit from his days as a shop floor mechanical engineer. Reasonably tall, with brown eyes to and a tanned complexion, he wasn’t single because there wasn’t interest in him. He likes a good date now and then. But he has been so busy focused on his career, then buying this house, that he just hasn’t had time for the dating scene.

Probably won’t for a little bit still. At least not this week. That attic needs to be gutted. And no sooner time to start than the present.

Vicki arose, her head feeling foggy, and blinked in confusion across her moonlit bedroom. Everything looked wrong. She turned slowly around and even the bed she just was sleeping in wasn’t there. Her drawers, her writing desk, all of her posters, even the curtains on the window… gone. She stumbled backward in confusion and found herself at the top landing of the stairs, even though she hadn’t even opened the door. Her head spun - this was really weirding her out! Where was everyone?

The house was quiet as she walked down the stairs, her bare feet not making the slightest sound. All of the family pictures that had traced their way down the wall by the stairs were gone, from the old wedding photo of her grandparents to the picture she hated of herself in a prim little white dress when she had been eight. Everything had been stolen.

The bare rooms of the first floor were even worse. The old cabinets in the dining room that had held Aunt Francis’s good china were torn from the walls, and the kitchen had been stripped of the stove. Her confusion turned to anger as she drifted into the living room and found a strange man in a sleeping bag stretched across the floor. How dare he? Near him were a case of equipment, a leather workman’s belt hung with tools.

Him. He must have been the one who did these things! Anger ran through her like she had never felt before. She reached down and pulled the hammer loose from his toolbelt, though it felt heavy, far heavier than it had any right to. It took both hands, but she lifted it over her head, her eyes ablaze and her blond hair floating around her. He would pay for taking everything from her family!

As the hammer was poised, the young man rolled over in his sleeping bag and for the first time she truly saw him. Dark hair framed a handsome, honest looking face, relaxed and peaceful in his sleep. In a deep, instinctual reaction she knew it wasn’t the face of a bad man - but someone alone in his house. He didn’t have a bed here either. Confusion flickered through her, her anger draining away.

Vicki’s emotions of confusion now were mixed more with curiosity than anger. She wanted to learn more about him, but she felt tired … so tired. The hammer faltered, then slipped from hands that faded into insubstantiality. Her visage vanished from sight as the hammer bounced off the wooden floorboards not a foot from the young man’s head.

BANG!!

Leo leaped. His heart leaped higher. He snapped his head back and forth around him looking for the noise. Tried to get up, tripped in the tangle of the sleeping bag, and fell back face first to the floor.

Slowly the logical side of him started to grasp the situation, started grasping the surroundings.

The house. His house. Still barren, still empty, but his. The noise came from inside the house, and it could be anything. Most the night he heard the creeks and snaps of a house just getting old. Temperature, humidity, all of that had some kind of effect on the wood and plaster that kept the old place together. But this was much bigger much more severe.

It was about then he saw the hammer sitting on the floor next to him . That’s when it all made sense. “The hammer fell, that’s all,” he laughed out loud. “Just dropped on the floor from the …”

Leo stopped gave a nervous laugh. “Who am I talking to?” he said out loud. “There’s no one here. Yet I can’t stop talking outloud. Just sitting here talking to the house.” He chewed on his lip. The shock of the noise, the quick wake, all of it seemed to leave him with a heightened sense excitement and a bit of a shiver. “I guess that accounts for being a little crazy, doesn’t it?” he reasoned. “Since no one is here to point out my crazy, I am just going to keep talking to you house; if you are okay with that give me no response whatsoever.”

He shrugged and started to get out of bed. “Alright, since I am up, let’s see if I can’t get some work done in that attic before it gets too hot up there.”

The attic wasn’t a high priority. It just needed to be cleaned up and prepped for a good bit of insulation. But on inspection there was a fair bit of leftover stuff from some previous owner. It was dusty, messy, and old - so working up there would be dusty, messy, and hot.

Leo grabbed the hammer off the floor, then walked the short distance to the tool belt before he stopped and considered something. He looked at the tool belt, looked to where the hammer had landed, then repeated that. He lifted the hammer to eye level and smirked, “I think I am going crazy Mr. Hammer, otherwise you must have flown half way across the room.” With a shrug he headed to the stairs and the loft above.

Vicki felt like she was in a haze, mentally floating and disconnected, but without the pleasant buzz that came with the favors passed about at her favorite parties. It felt like she couldn’t focus, could barely remember why she’d dropped the hammer, much less why she’d picked it up. She saw the guy jump up in surprise, then fall down on the floor, and it made her giggle … but it felt like she was watching a television. It was… not there. When he looked around his eyes passed right over her, his ears not reacting to her laughter at his unintended comedy. Then he started talking to himself, talking to his hammer, talking to the room. It was like a play right in front of her, right in her own living room, as if he was on Dad’s TV. It didn’t make any sense.

He acted like he owned the place though: the whole house. Her house. It might be empty, but it was still hers. He might be cute, particularly in what little he’d slept in, and not nearly as much of a square as she thought at first, but he was still in her house. That thought helped her focus, helped make it real again, though so many things were still confused in her head.

When he headed up the stairs she followed on her tiptoes, careful to avoid the fifth step with the board that creaked, just like she did when she was sneaking back in from a late night party after curfew. Her head spun for a moment; wasn’t she just coming back from a party? She didn’t even remember having to sneak in, just waking up. She had to shake her head and pad swiftly up the stairs to catch up to him. She’d figure it out later.

He didn’t notice her, not even when she nearly ran into him as he stopped to yank on the door to the attic. It always had been pretty sticky; Grandpapa had always meant to get around to fixing it for them, until he got sick. She ducked around a corner and watched him until he started up the stairs, then followed.

Mom would be appalled at how disorganized the attic was. Random pieces of furniture were tucked under the low eaves, all of their homey but not really nice stuff. Packing boxes of who knows what. Vicki slowly stepped aside while he went to inspect thing, but then her eyes were caught and she froze. There at the end was the mirror and vanity that Grandpapa had made for her on her thirteenth birthday. That’s why it wasn’t in her room! And hanging from the corner of the mirror was a familiar white necklace: the puka shell necklace that Mike had given her. But how could that be? She put her hand to her neck, felt the familiar roughness of the shells on the thin cord. She’d been wearing it last night, at the party, how could it be there? Her head spun, the world feeling even more unfocused.

“So, this door needs to be fixed, that’s for sure,” he spoke to the house. “I’m leaving the step thought, because that just adds character. Is that okay with you Miss House?” Leo still loved the novelty of talking to the house, as if it had a mind of its own. The fact he’s now decide the house was female was equally amusing … and not a Mrs. House either it seems. “Now, just to get you a little less uncluttered.”

The sun streamed into the attic through a few windows at one end. His first job up there was to get those windows open, which would make it easier to work up there. After some effort, they popped open fighting the old paint built up and the gummy run of time. As soon as he did, though, the fresh cool morning air streamed in with the sound of chirping birds. He could do nothing but suck in that air and embrace that this was going to be a great house to wake up to.

“Alright, let’s see what we have here.”

There were some pieces of furniture. Decent ones. Maybe older, like from the 50s or 60s, and likely for someone younger, but still in decent shape if not dust covered. Boxes, lots of boxes, like someone packed up someone’s life and left it behind. But nothing to outrageous or difficult to deal with. But they still needed to be cleaned-up.

Leo’s eye caught something first. A vanity, complete with mirror and small drawers. “I bet I can sell this,” he started running his hand across the smooth edges of the vanity. It had a look of rough cuts and simple finishes; as if it was hand built and not bought from a more reputable place. “No offence, Miss House, but vanities are things girls use. So why not sell it to a girl. Besides, someone could put some paint on it and make it look like it was made by a professional or something.”

That’s when it caught his eyes. “Well, look at this.”

Hanging from the corner of the mirror was a necklace made of simple leather cord. What stood out about it was the puka shells, three of them in series. Looking at them reminded Leo of days at the beach, where he would sit and dig up sand to make castles, lining them up with small shells and rocks like fortresses. While his brother and sister would run off and play with the other kids in the serf, Leo built these youthful architectural delights. Those were happy days, filled with happy memories. Simple little things these shells, and just looking at them pulled him back to those days.

“This here maybe a keeper,” he stated, and reached for the necklace.

As he reached out and touched the shells curiously, something struck him as odd in the mirror. It was almost as if that someone was looking over his shoulder. His mind was just registering it briefly, before he quickly spun to look towards whatever was behind him,

But nothing was there.

“Right, Miss House. I need to stop goofing around and get to work.” So he left the necklace for now and did just that.

His voice pulled her back, that playful tone as if he was talking to the house … as if he was talking to her. “I bet I can sell this. No offence, Miss House, but vanities are things girls use. So why not sell it to a girl. Besides, someone could put some paint on it and make it look like it was made by a professional or something.”

“No!” the words leaped from her lips, horrified at the thought that this stranger could take her vanity and sell it. Worse, that he would take the beautiful wood that Grandpapa had chosen just for her and slap some cheap paint on it. But her shout didn’t seem to reach him, unless he was deaf, and he didn’t even flinch.

“Well, look at this.” She started forward as she saw his hand reach for the necklace. Her world seeming to spin. She stumbled through the box behind which she had been hiding, but the only trace she left was the slightest disturbance in the dust eddies in the sunlight.

”This here maybe a keeper.” As he touched the necklace suddenly there was a warmth that washed over her and swirled inside her. She looked up, saw her own reflection in the mirror, and her eyes went wide. Her dirty blond hair had gone pale golden, framing her face that was even more pale than it should be. Worse, behind her bright blue eyes she could see the outline of the window - right through her own head. She looked down to stare at the mini-dress she still wore since the party last night, through which she could see her own body, behind which she could see the attic floor. Her breath stopped… or had she even been breathing at all?

With an unheard shriek she fled down the attic stairs, reeling at the realization of what had become of her.

The attic grew warmer faster than he expected. It took no more than an hour or two digging through the dust and debris before he was caked with funk that started to become uncomfortable. He made good work through the process, but there always comes a point where a guy just needs to clean up. Besides he needed to make a hardware store run to grab a few things for the work ahead in the master bed. As much as probably in that place wouldn’t care, needing that run is as good of an excuse to clean up as anything.

Before leaving the attic, he quickly pocketed the necklace. The more he thought about it, the more liked the thing for himself. Just before he touched it again, he quipped, “no trying to scare me this time, Miss House, okay?” The odd moment that happened that first time he touched it kinda lingered in his mind as he worked the morning away. It’s not like him to spook easy, but there was something that made him sure he saw something in that mirror.

Just not enough to take himself too seriously.

“Last call,” he stated with a smirk.

No noise, and he grabbed again and dropped the necklace into his pocket.

Leo cranked the rattling pipes to pull out the hot water. Immediately the groan of the old galvanized plumbing suggested that something was coming out of it soon, but not right away. After burps of grey water followed by splashes of rust, the color turned clear and steam began to rise from the shower head. Someday, the plumbing would need to be updated, but it was serviceable.

What wasn’t serviceable was the shower curtain. One pull of the old fabric and the rod crashed to the floor. The screws fastening it to the wall broke to pieces as their rusted core showed off what years of misty showers can do to ungalvanized steel. “Another thing to add to the list for today, shower curtain rod,” he said to noone. “The floor is going to get wet, but it’s just one shower.”

Stripping down, he stopped to take the necklace out of his pocket and place it on the sink. The dust from the attic made what looked like a tan line of brown where his shorts and shirt ended and his skin began, but otherwise his more indoors lifestyle gave no other lines on his skin. Stepping into the old cast iron tub and under the industrial shower head, he allowed the water to cascade down his firm body and lean muscles. The bathroom took on an odd feel to him then, the hot water pouring over him, but with no shower curtain the cool air of the rest of the room kept brushing against his wet skin. It felt a little bit naughty, like he was showering outside, or exposed to the world. Sure he was alone in this house, but there was nothing between him and anything that was there.

With a smirk, as he started to put shampoo in his hair he joked, “I hope you like the show Miss House.”

All was blackness for some indeterminate time. Hours? Minutes? Days? She awoke back in her room, feeling as if someone had just touched her, but there was no one there. Arising from her nonexistent bed, she stared at her arms. If she paid attention, she could see through them. As she moved her arms in front of her the doorknob of her room reflected the dusty sunlight right through her forearm. With a hesitant extended arm she stepped towards the door - closer, closer, and then her hand passed into the door knob with a faint sensation of resistance. It was more an act of her own will than that of physics as she closed her eyes and stepped fully through her bedroom door.

There was no avoiding her new unreality, but further introspection was interrupted by the gurgle and bang of water pipes, reminding her of some old, ill-maintained house. That might be the way it is now, but it is was not something her father would have ever stood for. That man, that intruder in her home, must be still here. Her brow crossed with concern, even as curiosity built - where was he and what was he doing now? It was quick enough to find out which bathroom he was in. Vicki didn’t think he could see her, so she simply stepped through the closed door of the bathroom.

She stopped in surprise, seeing his naked body in the shower. As if her mind still was in the habit of having a living body, she felt a sudden blush of pleasant warmth right through her. He was gorgeous. Her eyes lingered over him for long voyeuristic moments taking in his physique. She’d been skinny dipping before with both men and women, and some of this summer’s parties had become wilder as the joints were passed and booze flowed. It was the kind of things that her parents would have blown their tops about if they had known, the kinds of people Mike had introduced her to. But of all the men she’d seen naked, often in rather dim light, she thought this man was … well… amazing.

“I hope you like the show Miss House.”

She smiled, realizing he was talking aloud again and yet completely unaware she was there. As he turned and raised his hands to scrub in shampoo she got quite an eyeful of his cock, dangling so vulnerable and innocent. She found herself wondering what it looked like hard.

She looked away, slightly embarrassed at her own thoughts about this stranger. Mike might have told her to enjoy the view; after all that was the excuse he gave for how he behaved with other women. Not giving in to the trap of society, the trap of traditions like monogamy, and instead to let the love flow. She’d tried, she’d partied, and a lot of it had been fun, but … she turned back towards the man in her shower. She did like the show.

The rough feel of the brand new bath sponge only seemed to reinvigorate Leo’s skin. He had slapped on enough soap to make that sponge like a fluffy cloud of suds, but it still worked to clean him. Leaning his head back, he let the water wash over his face as he ran the sponge across his shoulders. The mixture of soap and water trickled down the gentle end of his back and swiped over the gentle curve of his firm bottom. He lifted his arm above his head, and brushed the soap against his side. Each rib pulled tight under his skin and pecs pronounced in his reach, he scrubbed heartily. Turning his back to the shower head, he ran the soap over his stomach. Not that he worked out, but his good diet and hands on job allowed most of the six pack to give definition. With small trails of soap running down his navel towards his groin, he turned slightly and lifted his other arm repeating the process of scrubbing his side.

The bathroom was definitely starting to grow warmer. The cool morning just seemed to cause all that hot water to create rolling plumes of steam. Of course, an old house like this comes without a good vent fan, so it just seemed to make the steam linger. Leo turned to look through the mist, and his mind went right to that vent. Another item to add to this list of things to do. He took a long deep breath. For the first time there was a hint of feeling overwhelmed by the work ahead of him, the first time he wondered whether or not he bit off more than he could chew.

As he looked around the room, the sponge wandered down to his manhood. It, of course, needed cleaning like anything else. It, of course, needed attention as well. The ‘little guy’ took a backseat to all the focus Leo put on the house. The sponge becoming the only action it has seen in the last couple of days. Or weeks, or months it seems like. No wonder it responded to the gentle lingering of the soap.

With a deep sigh, he turned towards the water, and let it wash away the soap ...and arousal to a lesser extent. There was only so much a man can get done in a day, and sadly,the ‘little guy’ would need to take a back seat again.

Vicki looked back, entranced as he scrubbed himself, and slowly began to drift further into the bathroom as it became more clear that he couldn’t see her. The voyeuristic thrill moved her, and with no shower curtain it felt all the more like the show he had joked about. If she wanted to, she could even reach out her hand and touch him. The temptation was great, and she even started to raise her hand, but then paused wide-eyed as he began to wash his manhood and it began to respond. Soon it was pointing upward, the suds rolling down towards its base rather than dripping off the tip. She’d never really been able to just watch a man like this, and it was incredibly arousing.

The steam swirled about the room, but met some small resistance where the ghostly Vicki stood. The more she concentrated on Mike, the more she was connected to him by her attention and each of their arousal, the more an image of her began to fill in between the swirls of steam. Her pale complexioned face emerged first in the steam, the hint of freckles only faint shadows across her cheekbones and bridging her nose. Waves of pale golden hair rode the swirls of steam, floating near-weightlessly around her face. From her slender neck downwards her body became more unclear. Her loose dress was a floating, insubstantial sheer layered over an slightly less translucent body, giving more the suggestion of her slender form, slim hips, and small, high breasts.

Vicki could feel it, that moment where she was beginning to materialize, like her body had taken on a weight she hadn’t even missed before. She looked up at Mike’s face, her eyes a washed-out blue, her surprise clear in her expression. As she retreated away from him the steamy mist swirled and all sight of her was gone again. She froze, her eyes on him, a thrill running through her.

Thank goodness the water heater worked so well. The steam and warmth that encircled felt so good, so welcoming, so relaxing. It did, however, nothing to help soothe the savage beast below. Even with the attempt to leave his little friend alone, something in the air had changed. Something seemed to be charged in the surroundings. Leo only felt that as the desire pulling him upwards more. As he slowly rotated under the water, his member slowly strengthened.

His hand slid across his chest and moved without hesitation to the growing member. With a firm grip and a few slow pulls he neared full length. Never one to look around to see how he measured up, all that mattered to Leo is that a full grip around his shaft surrounded most of the girth, and to slide the skin back and forth down the length allowed enough pleasurable distance to replace his hand with an imaginary velvety vice. Of course, his hand was no substitute, but in times like this, it was all the pleasure he could find. The water drizzled down his torso, his taut stomach tightening and softening with each breath. His firm chest expanding. His arms strong around his body as he feel his mass between his fingers.

Somewhere in his consciousness, he became aware of a vision. Not so much real, at least not that it felt real. Maybe it was someone he once met, someone he once saw, someone that just was. Yet at this moment, in this time, that was what came to him in the hazy mist of the shower. Silken hair of gold drifting lightly over soft, pale shoulders and firm breasts. A shape that was playful but still sexy.

Leo imagined the girl so close that he could have been laying over her, pulling her boy against his, taking in his hands. This spirit that seemed to be so close that it touched him became the imaginary lover, one so close he could smell her scent. Somewhere in the half-slit of his eyes, she seemed real enough in front of him that he could count every one of the freckles across her nose. In that simple beautiful, he reached his apex, and released. His body shook as the pent up need burst from his rod through the mist of the shower, plaster out against the shower tub already mixing with the water to wash it away. The damn that bust was powerful, full, and amazing.

After a short time, Leo caught his breath, and started to shamefully turn to the shower head again. He placed his hands against the wall, unwilling to look back at the room, somehow feeling like he defiled something in this new home. A thought that soon struck his funny bone. So instead he said to noone in particular.

“Well house, I guess this means we broke each other in, eh?”

She watched him, captivated, as it became clear he was no longer simply washing himself. The way his body moved, the way his length grew, it seemed to draw her in. His chest was so solid, so real, with muscles clearly brought from hard work. For her eyes to drift down from that chest to that now even harder … she put a hand up to her mouth, for fear she would gasp and he would hear. But her other hand lingered about her breast, feeling the little electric sensation of her touch on her already well aroused nipple through the thinness of her dress.

He looked at her. It really seemed he looked right at her. His eyes weren’t quite focused on hers, but it seemed impossible to think that he wasn’t seeing her. That thought both thrilled and for a moment scared her. His eyes closed halfway, like he was dreaming, and then there was a shake through his body. Vicki looked to the stroke of his hand in time to see him come, in time to see that great spurt so suddenly from his … oh my god she wanted to touch him. She had never watched a man do that to himself, only imagined what it was like when she could feel Mike spurting inside of her. There was so much, more than she expected. Her fingers closed hard on her nipple and her own need seemed so great. She was sure she was about to appear again, and then what would he do. What would she do?

“Well house, I guess this means we broke each other in, eh?”

She turned and fled through the door, feeling more resistance from it than she expected, like running into a strong wind. She had to get away from him, this beautiful intruder in her house, and come to terms with how he made her feel.

Leo fought with the lock until it popped open with a rattling of the windows. Quickly he pulled the cans of paint, and plastic bags full of supplies in the door. Energized from a successful run to the hardware store, he still had hours of daylight ahead of him to get what he needed put together. It was hard not to feel fired up. The great progress he made in the attic that morning meant he could really feel like he is getting somewhere. If he got a good coat of paint down in the living room things will start looking like the house will be presentable someday.

Plus … his bed was due to arrive that afternoon too. A real bed. No more need to sleep on the floor.

Begrudgingly, he also bought a shower curtain. As exciting it seemed to leave himself exposed to the house that morning, the floor was rather wet afterwards … which would lead to rotting or mold or warping, and the bathroom floor is one thing he didn’t want to deal with yet.

Though he did opt for the clear plastic shower curtain. So there’s that.

As he installed the thing, he realized looking over his shoulder he left the necklace on the mirror. The little trinket found in the attic seemed at the time worth having. It’s not something he normally wears, but that was why he forget to put it on after the shower.

“Sorry about that, house,” he said to his imaginary friend, “didn’t mean to leave your little gift behind.”

He pulled the puka shell necklace over his head and let it fall against his chest. Something about it made him feel good, like made his heart beat a little faster, his mind calm a little easier. Oddly it reminded him of that morning, and the need to ‘take care of himself’ in the shower. Regardless, it made him feel good, and putting it on was just what he needed.