A few years back my girlfriends granny went away on holiday and we got to look after the house
and a big old creepy victorian house it was, with wonky stairs and creaks and bumps everywhere. Not wanting to sleep in her grandmothers bed, we retired to a small backroom.
As we snuggled up for the night my girlfriend told me about how many years ago her granny used to have lodgers, and about this particular lodger who was a recently graduated minister. He came to stay here because he had just killed his wife and his two year old daughter. He stayed here for a day or two and then hung himself from that beam there, goodnight sweetie.
I lay there shivering, staring at the beam in the dark, was that the mark left by the rope I could see? Was that creaking noise the dead man swinging back and forth, looking down on me from the shadows?
Despite my terror I eventually managed to drift off to a fitful sleep, only to be rudely awakened by a loud
THUMP!
The thump was my head hitting the ground, I leapt up and wheeled around, I had been thrown out of bed by a poltergheist! shit! And then I realised, no, my girlfriend had just decided to stretch out a bit in her sleep and given that we were sleeping in a single bed she had pushed me right out, so I woke her up and shagged her senseless.

Slept a bit better after that (got pushed out of the bed again, but didn't wake up the second time)

No apologies for length, ever
( VampireMonkeyOnSpeed a super sexy sexual sex terrorist sex, Tue 25 Apr 2006, 10:15, Reply)