The Attic – A Ghost Story, Parts VI – VIII & Epilogue - Sex Stories

The Attic – A Ghost Story, Parts VI – VIII & Epilogue

... next morning was a Sunday. Angelina called about noon and said that Bart Dover was expecting us at 2:00.

I watched out the front window, waiting for Angelina’s car to go by, then we walked down the street, all four of us. We had spent much of the morning practicing our routine and memorizing lines in the hope that our all our planning would work out. We had our fingers crossed.

It was a warm day and the twins had worn spaghetti tanks that clung to their slender bodies, accentuating their small chests and permitting just the hint of pokies. My wife went braless under a super-tight, pink T-shirt that complemented her bust in a way that was breathtaking - even Callie and Mina were trying not to stare. I wore an oversized button-up shirt that minimized my musculature as much as possible. I was trying to look scrawny and scared – not an easy task.

Inside, Bart was sitting in a recliner in a torn pair of jeans and a black AC/DC t-shirt that might have looked good on him when he was 25. His eyes looked like he was still hungover from the previous night, and he smelled fresh, like he had just gotten around to showering right before we came. He was a good-looking guy, in a rugged way, except for the underlying vibe of sleaze that clung to him. He didn’t rise when we came in, just gestured to a tattered couch and an easy chair.

At Angelina’s prompting, he asked if anyone wanted anything to drink, like sodas, water...or a beer. He seemed relieved that I asked for a beer, and ...

... he came out with two, one for me and one for him.

Once we were settled in, he dispensed with the small talk.

“I understand you need some help,” he said, taking a swig from his can of Bud.

I nodded and did my best act of a nervous glance at the twins, who were staring at the floor. When I looked up, I noticed the Bart was taking a full measure of Callie and Mina.

“Yes,” I said, softly, looking down, then looking up at him while trying to appear a little guilty. “You know how the world is these days. I’d like my girls to have some personal protection, but we had this little incident where we used to live. We’re trying to move on – the girls learned their lesson – but if they applied for permits, the local cops would probably find out about their mishap. And you know how small town police can be. Can you help? I’d really appreciate it. I can pay a little extra too, you know, to help with any, um, handling fees…”

While I spoke, Bart’s eyes had been flicking back and forth between the twins’ tits and my face – with occasional stops at my wife’s chest. Angelina was right, this guy was a scum. Sending him up the creek for the Helmsworth twins’ murder would be fun.

When I was finished, he smiled.

“Angelina vouches for you, which is enough for me,” he said. “I can get you a couple of small caliber untraceables. You’ll need to get your own ammo. It will take me a couple of weeks to come up with the guns – it’s all about what comes on the market and when. But I can ...