Thirteenth Hour (young teens, ghosts)

Story by srb

http://www.asstr.org/~srb

Don't read if under 18 or illegal in your little corner of the world, like you'll listen. This should appear only on my site http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/srb/www/ F3, Futanari Palace, and basically should be wherever Pal's stuff is. Also at the Grey Archive, and some other places they might end up, they know who they are. Any websites that want to host my story must have expressed written consent to do so. I will list all websites that I have granted permission to list my stories there. If you are reading this now and find this on a new website, then please email me at somerandombastard (at) yahoo (dot) com

This is copyright me, so don’t call it yours. Feedback can be left here. I created all the characters, they are all fictional, and any relevance to anyone living or dead, is incidental.

This story is just a stand alone, Halloween inspired story. It occurs outside of the universe I’ve created (Terraverse) and is just in the ‘normal’ world. Apologies to Theromen for posting it before he gave it a proper beta, but I wanted to post it before my birthday ended.

The following story contains teens, f/f, f/futa, oral, ghosts, breast enhancement, futanarization

Thirteenth Hour

“Nuh uh!” Stacey said defensively, putting her hands in her coat pockets, to keep them warm. The chilly late October air was starting to make her shiver. Or perhaps it was the mysterious house before them.

“Pfft, you two are just big chickens,” Rebecca said, shaking her head disparagingly.

“Your just talking out of your ass Becky,” Amy shot back. She didn’t care if the girl was two years older than her and Stacey, she had no plans on actually going through with this.

“Bawk bawk bu what?” Rebecca clucked mockingly. She put her hands under her armpits and began to flap.

“Come on, like you’re going to spend the night there?” Amy asked incredulously.

“I never said that I would,” she answered. “You two said you were big girls, and boasted that there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“There isn’t. But that doesn’t mean I want to spend the night in an old abandoned house.

It’s probably covered in cobwebs and dust!” Amy reasoned.

“Not likely, my mom still tries to sell that old hunk of junk at the top of the hill. I see people going in and out of there once a month at least,” Rebecca lied. She had seen people in and out of it three times in the last five years, but the underclassmen weren’t likely to know about it. And her mom was trying to sell it, with the profit she’d make off of it she could pay off her credit cards.

“So what? I still don’t have to do it,” Amy wasn’t going to be goaded into this.

“I knew I shouldn’t have bothered talking to you widdle six graders. Little baby girls all afraid now huh?” she said mockingly.

“Just because we’re thirteen doesn’t mean we’re little kids,” Amy shot back.

“Well sor-ry, I couldn’t tell with that flat chest of yours!” Rebecca said, putting her hands under her own breasts for emphasis. She wasn’t the most endowed child in school, but it didn’t take a genius to know that Amy was sensitive about her smaller chest. At thirteen years old she had entered into puberty as far as her monthly cycle was concerned, but she was still as flat as she had been as a kid.

“We’re not afraid, because there aren’t any ghosts in there,” Stacey spoke up. “But we can’t just spend a night there without our parents knowing!”

“Oh is that the only reason now?” Rebecca asked, throwing back her blond hair.

“Eyeah, what do you want from me?” Stacey on the other hand, was going to be goaded into this. She wanted that money.

“Look, today is Halloween and it’s a Friday, so I’ll just have a sleep over. My mom is like, totally a drunk, and she won’t give a damn about anything once she’s passed out. She doesn’t show houses on Saturday morning. And my dad will be busy with trick or treaters, and he doesn’t care about what you two are doing. You just come over and we’ll sneak you in, and come pick you up in the morning. If you’re game,” Rebecca put her hands on her hips, looking down at them.

“One night…for a hundred bucks?” Stacey asked, verifying the terms of the bet.

“A hundred bucks. But that’s together, fifty bucks apiece. I’ll even give you a bottle of my mom’s crappy wine. All for just one night in the old Anderson house,” Rebecca nodded, offering her hand.

“You can’t be serious.” Amy looked at the place. They were at Rebecca’s house, j

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