Sam Lamour: The Seductive Spirit
Marcus awoke abruptly as Tiff parked the car, just to make sure he was asleep. He smiled and rubbed his eye, asking, "Are we there already?"
"We've been on the road for three and a half hours," Tiff responded, stepping out and stretching.
"It felt like no time at all," Marcus noted, getting out of the car. "Once we got on the highway and listened to the boring book on tape, I was asleep in no time."
"What? That book went over the whole backstory of this hotel and the ghosts that reside here!"
"Oh yeah, I remember that," Marcus said with a yawn, heading towards the imposing gothic structure as the sun set behind it. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, it was a long day. I don't need to hear about the ghosts making the place haunted."
"It was filled with complex, emotional content. Also, did you miss my witty comments?"
"I apologize," Marcus said.
"It's okay. I feel better now that you didn't laugh at them," Tiff replied, taking his suitcase from the trunk.
"So what kind of ghosts should we expect?"
"This hotel opened in 1909, and less than a year later, a man named Sam Lamour was found dead in room 16, after murdering him and his lover," Tiff explained, grabbing his arm. "They were caught together, so their jealous husbands walked in, firing their pistols." She mimicked the sound of a gunshot with her hand and shrugged. "Sam and his lover have been seen haunting the corridors ever since, watching people have sex."
"That's cool," Marcus said with a laugh.
"Yeah, unless you consider the violent deaths tragic," Tiff pointed out.
"It's a bummer," Marcus agreed solemnly.
"But over the years, more ghosts have appeared here, as people have mysteriously and sexually died," Tiff continued.
"Creepy," Marcus reacted.
"Hopefully, we'll encounter only those ghosts who are there for a good time. Not the ones that'll make us insane or murder each other," Tiff said.
"Good thing we didn't come to this haunted hotel during its bad periods," Tiff added as they made their way up the dimly lit stairs. Tiff clung on to Marcus, feeling uneasy in the dark. She almost tripped over an ottoman.
Marcus laughed. "Take off your sunglasses, dummy," he said.
"Much better," she agreed, pushing them up on her forehead. The room was still dim, but she could now see the furniture. She shook her head. "I preferred it dark."
Marcus grinned. "Seems like you already have issues with this place."
"It's lame," Tiff laughed, heading towards the desk. The young clerk was oblivious, watching something on her small screen, with her feet up. She noticed them only when they rang the bell. She removed her headphones and addressed them.
"Welcome to the Scarier Inn," she said. "Do you have a reservation?"
"We do," Marcus answered, holding up his phone with the barcode. She scanned it. "How haunted is this place?"
"Completely!" she exclaimed. "Ghosts everywhere, do you want the tour?"
"No thanks," Tiff replied. "I heard the book on the way in, and you've already taken away the spookiness."
"Do you want me to make it scarier?" the clerk asked.
"Your attitude isn't scary, it's annoying. Can you do it in a more creepy way?"
"Tiff," Marcus said, shaking his head. "Let's just stick to the room?" He scanned the key and took it from her, leading them into the dark lobby. The clerk smirked, but she didn't like the look on Marcus' face. "Are there a lot of guests here?"
This time of year, it's mainly skiers that visit, but not with how warm it's been. The cashier leaned forward on the counter, taking a look at him. "I just kicked out an old fellow named Bonesy because of the spooky reservation."
Tiff remarked, "This place makes me feel like I'm going nuts."
The cashier rolled her eyes and grabbed her headphones. "Room 16, the Lamour Suite."
Tiff clapped her hands as Marcus grabbed the keys and quickly went up the stairs to the second floor. She hurried down the hallway to room sixteen, and hurried as he unlocked the old-fashioned door with the key. The room had all the right elements for a haunted hotel - the elegant neo-gothic moldings were continuous from the door through to the dresser and four-poster bed, in deep red, a striking presence in the room. Tiff passed the bed to the chair in the corner, covered in worn-out blue velvet.
"Here it is," Tiff said. Her hand hovered a few inches above the fabric, her heart pounding.
"What is it?" Marcus inquired. "Just looks like an old chair."
"You should have listened to the story with me," Tiff retorted.
"Alright, humor me. Whose chair is this?"
"His name was Mortimer Brant, and he and his wife Gladys stayed here back in 1979. I suppose they put all the ghostly stuff together during the off-season or for the 'spooky reservation.'"
"So what transpired between Mortimer and Gladys in 1979?"
"Gladys claimed that she was assaulted by the ghost of Sam Lamour, and her husband just watched."
"What did Mortimer say?"
"He didn't say a word. He died in this chair, with his hand on his dick and a smile on his face."
Marcus stepped back from the chair. "What did he die of?"
"A stroke. But he'd been unable to get it up for a decade, according to Gladys. The spirit of Sam Lamour experiencing Gladys was Mortimer's last thrill, and he still sits there, hoping to experience one final release, forever."
"Want to be watched by a dirty old man?"
"Of course, as long as he's dead. I can almost feel his ghostly eyes on me, wondering what I look like beneath these clothes, wondering when he'll find out. Do you feel him?"
"No, I don't think so." Marcus moved away from the chair and focused his attention on the mirror in the bathroom. "What a disturbing mirror."
Tiff stood next to him and grabbed his arm as she gazed into the silver image. The muted colors made them look like elderly people, and the frame was an intricately carved ivory thing meant to evoke a mouth with hundreds of sharp teeth around the tall oval shape. "Yup," Tiff confirmed. "These two mediums, Alexander and Ophelia Leminske, made this mirror back in 1951 to trap Sam Lamour's spirit. They gathered baby teeth from a church orphanage to symbolize innocence, but they were already exposed to some sordid displays."
"You mean the children in the orphanage?"
"Exactly. Those children had definitely witnessed some things."
"So these two mediums..."
"Correct. The twin brother-sister mediums, Alexander and Ophelia, attempted to lure Sam Lamour's spirit out to capture him in this eerie mirror. While engaged in their pursuit, they became caught up in the intensity of Sam's spirit and were unable to carry out the ritual due to their intense passion. Their souls became trapped in the mirror, and their bodies were found in a compromising state, never to be free again."
"That mirror is... really disturbing. Are those real teeth?" Tiff tried to keep Marcus from getting too close to the mirror, but he slipped from her grasp to examine it. She made a horrified noise when he lifted it off the hook to get a better look at the other side. He smiled at her as he put it back on the wall. "Yup, absolutely genuine. Super eerie, we look like ancient people."
The sailor-looking girl named Tiff leaned towards the window, taking in the ivy that escalated up the trellis below. In 2006, a college student named Jessica Medieros remained in this room, and at 11:30 she phoned her beau with a tone that suggested she'd been possessed by a porn star. He drove four hours, trying his best to calm her or make her wait for his arrival, but she left and searched for someone at a nearby bar. Once she got him there, while she was still on the phone with her lover, she began engaging in intercourse with the stranger. The distraught boyfriend arrived, seeing no other choice but to climb up the wall, wanting to watch her. She yelled even more to him, urging him to gaze through the window. And there, he witnessed her being penetrated forcefully against it, still yelling, and all the onlooker witnessed was her ecstatic screams, not the shattering glass. This marked the story of the third, horny ghost inhabiting room sixteen.
Marcus moved towards the window for a glance outside. "Did they all die due to a twelve feet drop and impact on the shrubs?"
Sadly, Tiff shook her head, "People back then weren't as sturdy as they are now. Be cautious, as the butt-hurt ghost of the jealous boyfriend responds angrily to disbelief."
Nodding in understanding, Marcus commented, "Of course he does. I can almost picture him groaning with the wind, 'show me yer tiiiiiiittieeeees'" as he burst into laughter.
Tiff laughed along, guiding him back to the bed. "It's said that just simply resting on this very spot will allow the spirit of Lamour to invade you, and make you horny."
He eagerly said, "I'm going to try it." Dropping his sack on the ground next to the bed, he got onto his back on the king-sized bed. He glanced up at Tiff and began to smirk, "It's working."
"Is it?"
"You bet. This alone makes me insanely horny."
"Even more than average, huh?"
"You could say that."
Tiff slid over his legs and gazed down at him. "This was where Lamour and his lover were gunned down. Supposedly, laying on this spot will cause his spirit to invade you, making you horny."
He willingly accepted her proposal, "I'm definitely open to it." Crawling back to sprawl again on the bed, he looked up at her, grinning, "It's definitely working."
Tiff blushed slightly, taken aback by his ease while portraying a different persona, as she searched for something he said or did to merit this. "That's cool."
Marcus snatched her face, manipulating it into a kissing position, and Tiff met him with lips of her own. He held her head back, kissing her neck, taking her dress strap off her shoulder. Eventually, her supple breasts fell into his hands, waiting to be consumed by his mouth. "Ever since you stepped foot in this room, I wanted nothing more than to ravage your perfect body."
Tiff hesitated, tantalized by the shift in his behavior. Was it really Marcus? "Uh, can you see? How do you see me? Can you read minds?"
"No Virginia; I am an ethereal catcher. I can feel the essence from individuals passing by, then use it to assume a humanoid form again."
"Explain what's happening. You're not you?"
"Nope, this is just Marcus. I have his body. He's played along so that my naughtiness could be real again." His hand left her shoulder and entered her bra to free her breast, cradling it in a firm grip, making her sigh. "You've got perfectly made breasts, Tiff, soft and firm, they delight in greeting my hands." He began nursing on her breasts, pulling her by her lace bra. "I would gladly have your body, Tiff, if only for a moment."
Puzzled, Tiff asked, "Where's Marcus?"
"He's watching and can see me in full clarity."
"So who am I speaking to right now?"
"His name was Sam Lamour, and it's him, not Marcus, reigning supreme. Call me Sam."
"Okay, Sam."
"You call me Sam, darling."
"Okay, Sam." She eagerly succumbed to his advances, but chuckled. "I guess I forgot." caused Lamour to say, "Yes?"
"Forget what?" Tiff questioned, realizing the way Sam spoke. It was different from Marcus.
With a grin, he said, "I'm sorry - I lost my glasses."
Marcus erupted in laughter once more, his head shaking as he took her in his grasp, her nipple between her lips, suckling while he squeezed the ripe fullness of her breast. He removed her dress and unhooked her bra, allowing it to drop away. "You're so stunning, especially through these eyes," he shared. "Much like a masterpiece, it feels wrong to touch you, yet with the same reverence he possesses..."
Tiff's pulse accelarated as her longtime boyfriend and only lover approached her bust in a manner that was wholly new, discovering it as though it were the first time. "Sam Lamour apparently had a thing for breasts," she pointed out, slightly panting with rising arousal.
"Sam Lamour appreciated each aspect of a woman's pleasure," Marcus explained. "But these breasts are so splendid, they warrant appropriate adoration."
He came back to her breast, bringing it to his mouth again, one hand on the other, and he simultaneously rubbed her hips with his thumb. "Your body craves me."
"Does it?" Tiff inquired.
"I can tell from the movements. I can sense it in your breath. I can see in your gaze how much you yearn for me. Your body is growing hotter, isn't it?"
"Yes," Tiff acknowledged. "Your demeanor, the way you tend to me..."
"It's different, isn't it?" Marcus murmured, summoning her to another kiss. He grinned as they parted. "It's different than with him, and that's stoking your excitement even more."
Tiff's heart pounded quicker, her cheeks flushed as she recognized the truth in his words. "But are you certain Marcus is alright with us utilizing his body in this manner?"
"Tiff, you possess such considerateness, and Marcus adores that. He watches with want just like me, and he will share in all the sensations we feel."
"So this is more or less a threesome," Tiff remarked.
Marcus kissed her again, growing progressively more amorous as he assessed her body with his hands. "There are plenty more than that," Marcus said in a low voice. "Close your eyes, Tiff, and recline."
Tiff acquiesced and was guided backwards, followed by him leaning over her. He put his hand gently on her face, his thumb delicately running over her eyelashes. She exhaled softly as she shut her eyes.
"You are stupefyingly attractive, Tiff," Marcus said, his fingers gliding around her neck. "Mortimer is enchanted by your shapely form and... oh my, what's that, old fellow? You're hoping I stop bragging and get down to business?" He exchanged another kiss, and she couldn't help but conjure the tightly chiseled jaw of Sam Lamour going up against hers, his dainty hands caressing her bare breasts, gliding over her stomach and into the top of her underwear. Mortimer observed in the corner, admiring her curves.
"Mmm, Marcus..." she moaned.
"Sam." Marcus said. "It will be Sam Lamour who will bring you to orgasm tonight." His bold fingers moved deeper, deeper, into the slick wetness between her labia. "Say my name, Tiff. Say who is probing your intimate zones."
"Sam," she hummed. He rubbed her clitoris. "Sam Lamour is delving into me."
"Excellent." He spoke in her ear, then licked it, causing chills to spread through Tiff's back. She could feel hot moisture saturating her pussy around Marcus' fingers. "Do you appreciate how my fingers feel?"
"Yes," she answered. He delved more deeply, drawing a leg up and outward as he got on top of her. His fingers, damp with her musk, reached towards her lips - Tiff gladly accepted them into her mouth. He took back his lips.
"I can no longer wait any longer, darling," Marcus confessed. "I crave you tremendously."
"Mm, Sam," Tiff grasped for his belt. "You've managed to get my pussy so wet, I want you to slip your extensive member into my gushing pussy."
"My, women seem to have become quite coarse in the last century," Marcus said. "It's acceptable, Sam Lamour will adore a vulgar slut just as much as a refined lady. In fact, they tend to enjoy it more."
"Cease; fuck me," Tiff demanded while removing his trousers and boxers. She reached for Mars' meat. However, Marcus blocked her, sporting an uncommon severity in his expression.
"Keep your eyes closed," Marcus commanded. She sighed as she did so. His fingers went into her tresses, steering her lip movements so he could kiss every part of her face - from her lips to her jaw to her throat. "Tell me who's in control of your naked body."
A gentle, playful tickle gently touched Tiff's right breast, and she gasped. Her eyes made an attempt to open, but Marcus was already securing a fabric around her features, a dark-colored bandana. He tied it by the center of her hair.
"No prying, darling. Who's in charge?"
"Sam Lamour, that's who it is."
He persisted with her head, and she could sense his aroma ahead of his revealed dick impinging on her lips. She opened her mouth, protruding her tongue against the mushy apex and the drop of liquid that had gathered there. While still clutching her hair, he guided her onto his member and allowed her a chance to get her saliva all over the head before pushing her through deeper. "Goddamn right, Jerry, she'll take a dick!" Marcus chortled, "Incorporeal shithead jerkoff."
"Jerry?" Tiff inquired, panting and gushing down her neck. "Please tell me you mean Gerald Dorsey, the guy who fired you?"
"He penetrates Betty while I do this kind of thing," Marcus stated in disapproval of the adulterous man's reasoning. He directed Tiff's mouth at his dick again. "I can hear you, Jerry. Of course I know you abhor it when I refer to you by that name, which is exactly why I use it! Just shut the fuck up and watch how I could please a woman when you couldn't."
Tiff offered him deep, unable to avoid it, and he ejaculated into her throat multiple times before removing to allow her a chance to recover and choke once, with saliva streaming down her chin. Marcus touched her face, abrading her lubricated cheek until she immersed in his dick a second time. "Who is plowing your throat, Tiff?"
Excited by his forcefulness, Tiff retreated, whimpering in delight at this rugged handling. "Sam- Sam Lamour."
"Correct," he nodded, and pushed her face inwards again. She opened her mouth, extending her tongue to draw more room for his responsive cock. He relaxed his grasp a bit as she reached for and palpated his testicles, reciprocating below his virile member where she couldn't fit it inside her throat.
"Stop being such a nymphomaniac," Marcus told him. "He's watching you move your ass while you suck me, and he says you desire more. Now Jerry states the same, clutching Betty's throat as he proceeds with her for eternity."
Chomping forcefully once she withdrew, Tiff followed his withdrawal of her hair and back to meet his lips. "Perhaps they have a point," she gasped. They kissed as he positioned her and himself side by side.
His fingers traveled between her legs again, spreading them wide, then glided back again toward where they met. He kissed her as he climbed onto her, nudging her skinny leg up and out. "Who's about to fuck your mushy paradise?"
"Sam Lamour! That's just unseemly talk!"
"You initiated it," he claimed, aggressively pushing his hips forward as his dick aligned with the entryway. "Whether you aspire to be a princess or a skank, Sam Lamour can accommodate your requests."
"Let's just locate us somewhere in the middle of that."
Marcus suppressed his silly snigger. "Granted, my darling. Now recount to me whose cock you wish lodged in you."
"Yours," Tiff told him. "I want Sam Lamour's cock inside me."
His body interlocked against hers, finally pressing his dick into her, encroaching upon full insertion. He deposited an abundance of mass onto her, a tactic Marcus never used, and ground his pelvis against hers. "You're dripping as fuck, Tiff."
"I recognize," she replied.
"You're so aroused, your lustful exuberance is causing those spirits to develop an otherworldly frenzy," Marcus advised her as he began to thrash.
"Do they actually like it?"
"Obviously, Mortimer," he responded. "That old fart barely leaves his chair, relinquishing it only in case a woman could sit on it. Then there's Jessica and her lovers, vacated from their relaxing entity above by your sexual appeal."
Tiff turned her head in his direction, unable to see anything but imagining the unseen figure on the blue velvet chair, hunched over and clenching his phantom wanker. "I wager he preferred it then, prior to when I licked that spot."
"Indeed, he did. He only observes, messing with his ghostly wanker in the present."
Tiff envisioned Jessica and the guy from the club beside that window and her boyfriend on the opposite side. Even as he fucked her against the decaying window, they all turned to face Tiff on the bed, secure in their out-of-worldly desires as Sam Lamour lay her into his arms and continued to fuck her vigorously.
"Yes, my love," she moaned.
"Yes," he grunted back, lifting her around him, sliding her up and down, he grunted it over and over. "Who is pleasuring you right now, Tiffany?"
"Sam Lamour! Fuck me harder!"
"I'd love to," he assured her, lifting her again, this time placing her on her hands and knees. "First, experience the wetness you have for Sam Lamour."
Tiffany had already opened her mouth as her head was guided down to his slimy member. He slapped her face with it, teasing her with a glancing taste as it passed her tongue. Finally, he placed it between her lips so she could lick and suck him again. She went deep on her own, her insides quivering at the taste of her juices, her arousal. "Mm, Sam, your cock tastes amazing."
"Thank you, darling." He stroked her jaw as she went deeper again. She could feel him pulsing gently against her tongue, blood rushing in his engorged member. She sucked as she withdrew and went deep again before coming up with a pop. He bent to her and they kissed, fingers exploring each others' genitals as they edged closer together. Marcus broke the kiss and leaned back, denying entry, bending her over instead. "Tell me, who do you crave to penetrate you while I force your face to the mattress?"
"Sam," Tiffany moaned. "Mm, Sam Lamour, I yearn for that so much."
Marcus rewarded her with the tip of his dick, just the head entering and teasing her quivering hole. "Who is this pussy so willing to be filled?"
"Mm," Tiffany moaned impatiently. "It's wet and ready for you, Sam. I want your dick so badly. I want you to pound me like you promised, Sam, please!"
Marcus' thick manhood slid in further, slowly at first, and thrust forward as she thrust back. He reached for her breast and pinched her nipple, making her scream so he would have an excuse to push her face down against the mattress.
"Harder," Tiffany said, or at least intended to, but only muffled vowel sounds made it out of the thick pillowtop. "Sam, yes, fuck me harder!"
"The twins are here now. Tired of touching each other for eternity, they desire to touch you."
Tiffany shrieked into the fabric as something soft and tickly, ethereal, moved up one side and down the other, imagining the twins reaching out to touch her from their endless embrace. She squirmed around Marcus' cock, gripping the sheet until he grabbed one arm, hauling towards him harder as he entered her, pounding. She cried out "Sam! Sam! Sam!" but wasn't sure if he could hear her.
"Now Sam Lamour is about to cum inside you, Tiffany," Marcus said, pulling her head a little up. She was grateful for the blindfold coming off, but it was a bit too bright for her sensitive eyes. "Say it, Tiffany. Tell me whose cum you crave inside you."
"Sam," she moaned. "I want your cum, Sam Lamour."
He panted as he pumped into her, widening his stance. He slammed himself down against her, rougher than she was accustomed to, and it was easy to imagine a different man behind her. She could picture the ghostly twins caressing her nipples with their feathery light touches. In the absence of any vision, she could see the onlookers in the room, all those eyes on her as she took the cock of the Room 16 owner, eager to be filled by Sam Lamour.
She felt the swirling energy of supernatural arousal in the room around her escalating, and her body trembled with anticipation as he approached orgasm. He grunted as his member throbbed within her, his pelvis quaking. She could feel the ghostly spirits in the room as they reached their ecstatic climax, no doubt drawn by her pleasure.
"So intoxicating," Tiffany moaned softly as she rolled over and let her legs fall wide open. "Does Sam Lamour know how to clean up after himself?"
Marcus didn't reply, instead, he pushed her legs further apart and began to lick her. His tongue delved deep, flicking around, and up and around. He lapped at her hungrily as her loins began to shake, unleashing more blobs of cum for him to lap up. His fingers joined in, sliding in and out of her while he sucked on her clit. His three fingers hit her pelvis harder as she began to raise her hips. Her jaw clenched, her eyes fluttered in ecstasy as she imagined a room full of spirits witnessing her orgasm. Her hips bucked as she peaked once more. As he let her down to shake a bit more, she felt the ethereal touches working her up again.
Tiffany lay panting for a few moments, still blinded by the brightness and unable to hear anything. She pulled the blindfold off as she sat up, wincing in the light until she could make out Marcus's grinning face about two feet from her own. "Sam Lamour?" she asked, a bit dazedly.
"He's gone. They're all gone," Marcus chuckled. "The spirits have been contented."
"Wow," Tiffine said, letting out a long breath. "I never imagined ghost possessions could be this entertaining."
Trevor chuckled loudly. "Those ghosts were far from scary."
"Good vibes are what you get back," Tiffine replied casually, stretching her body. "It's all about giving."
Trevor leaned in for a kiss on her forehead. "So, do you believe in ghosts more or less after this experience?"
"My belief stayed the same. If we'd repeated the victim's name a couple more times, he might have appeared, and we wouldn't have needed the blindfold." Tiffine grinned as he chuckled. "You did a fantastic job selling the experience."
"Credit goes to Sam Lamour," Trevor stated proudly, wearing a broad country-boy grin.
Read also:
Source: www.nice-escort.de
