The night before, the cruel winds had battered Williston Falls. The storm uprooted sturdy trees in the town’s small park and lifted farm houses only to reset them cockeyed on their foundations. There was more.
Three women huddled in the Louise Hollis Community Center trying to comfort a weeping Mrs. Ruth Latzke the morning after.
“Cry. It’s all right,” Mrs. Thelma Schumacher said, rubbing Ruth’s back. “I know I did after it happened to me.”
Mrs. LeAnne Schantz sat in an antique metal folding chair behind Mrs. Latzke, and gently touched her shoulder. “You’re still an upstanding woman here. We think no less of you.”
Ruth covered her face as if to hide her degrading feelings after hearing this. Her eyes became reddened and she broke down in tears. The building was only one room when her cries were heard throughout. The ladies came closer to Ruth, trying to soothe her and help her shaken hands. Mrs. Latzke suffered an almost unbelievable attack last night. The married women tried to calm their friend while Ms. Julia Busch, the bride-to be, offered support just like LeAnne or Thelma. However, Julia hadn’t at first believed such a strange thing could or would happen. This led to Julia asking questions.
Julia had no experience. Julia was virgin and had never been with any man. She had never kissed any boy and that was all she did. Her mother was a strict woman who taught her to be pure all her life. “Never let a man touch your body until he is your husband. Even then, do not let him do degrading things to you.” She was never sure what things good women would not allow.
Julia finally asked what happened after spending so much time with Ruth. Mrs. Latzke was able to keep her wits about her in her despair. She sniffled, and she calmed her heaving heart. “There’s always been a creak in the walls of my husband’s and my bedroom. What I heard was worse than normal after the storm. The sound was so strong that I thought the house might be blown off its foundations. If nothing else, I guessed the roof might be blown off.”
She used a crumpled tissue to rub the corner of her eyes. “I shook Archie awake, but he told me to ignore it and go back to sleep. ‘If this farm house has stood since 1872, it’s not gonna fall tonight,’ he tells me. He started snoring once more. The old bastard.” She glanced heavenward. “Forgive me.”
She breathed deep as if trying to control her breathing. “I was still not at peace, so I got up to listen. I know I sound smug when I say that I heard the creak on the wall. Sure enough, I heard it. It was loud. The creaking began in the corner of our living room and ended exactly where my oak armoire was and my bonnet box. Archie was just out of reach. Then …” She stopped abruptly, and an onset of tears overtook her. Through her weeping, she blubbered, “I’m so embarrassed. She is now a defiled lady! Never pure again.”
Her friends leaned in to her and wrapped their arms around it. Mrs. Schumacher knelt before Ruth, patting Ruth’s hands.
“Same happened to me some months ago,” Mrs. Schumacher said. “I felt the long ‘thing.’” She shivered and grimaced. “But all I really remember is waking up in bed with dried gunk on my face, a damp pillow, and a salty taste in my mouth. Worse, some of the ‘stuff’ had dried in my hair. It ruined my perm. Cost me $30 and a blowup by Bill because of that money.”
Ruth looked at Thelma with her reddened eyes. “It didn’t happen that way at all. It was worse. I did worse!”
“Worse!” Thelma retorted. She dropped Ruth’s hands and stood. She placed her hands on her large hips. “I sing forth praises in hymns and good songs with these lips.”
“Ladies, ladies,” LeAnne said, “we’re not here to outdo each other. We aren’t men. We are here to comfort and lift up our sister in this dark hour.”
Julia softly encouraged Ruth a few seconds later. “So, the creaking stopped between the armoire and the bonnet chest …”
“And I gave in.” Ruth slowly pulled up her dress to reveal her knees. They were all red from rug burn.
The women gasped and choked. They covered their mouths.
Ruth immediately covered her knees and stood up for herself. “I am not a dog, I’m not, I’m not, I’m not!” She covered her face, breaking down into further anguish.
She was comforted again by her close friends. Julia was the exception. She didn’t fully understand the strange story, especially when a similar oddity happened to Mrs. Schumacher.
“What did you do?” Julia asked, timidly.
Ruth took a few minutes to recover her composure, and then she sighed. She wiped her eyes and patted the mascara that was streaking her cheeks darkly. “A dark spot, a tall shadow, darker than any shadows at night, appeared on the wall. It stood from floor to ceiling, and from it, a … a … penis.”
“From the wall?” Julia was startled at the thought. “An actual ‘penis’, not a shadow? But how?”
LeAnne tried to temper Julia’s questions. “Yes, it appeared like that for all of us.”
Ruth continued, “I had never seen or felt one that large. I’ve only been with Archie in my whole life, and Archie’s wiener is nothing like it. This one was as large as … as a cucumber from Mrs. Hamilton’s garden. As long too.” She glanced into the others’ faces and wagged her finger. “I will deny ever saying that.”
Then, she lowered her head. “I thought I saw—but it can’t be real—something like the form of a shadowy man appeared against the wall but only his you-know-what came out of the wall. A sinful desire overcame me. It was like a depraved longing. My fast heartbeat, heavy sweats, salivating and other womanly pains. I did as this ‘man’ instructed me. I pulled my nightgown over my waist, and then knelt and fell on my hands and knees. I felt a rush of love and a warm sensation in my back. It felt as good as shea butter. Then I felt the ‘thing’ press against my …” She suddenly burst into tears again. She banged the chair. “I’m so humiliated. I’ve never done it before. My mother warned me since I was a young girl that having anything enter ‘there’ was a disgrace. It is only allowed for dogs and prostitutes. But I allowed it, I did it.”
Everyone was silent when Julia asked, “How did it feel?”
Mrs. Latzke lifted her head. Julia looked directly at her. She was a grumpy smiler with dark eyes. The look lasted just a moment, before she wiped it off with tears.
After the storm, Williston Falls, a farm town, was peaceful for several months. Mrs. Latzke’s life calmed, and Julia’s wedding neared. The excitement increased, and she even wanted to spend the night alone with her husband. Julia had boarded at Mrs. Schantz’s house until the wedding when she would then move into the new home with her husband. The summer storms that erupted in Williston Falls a week before the wedding thwarted Julia’s plans.
He was sitting in his recliner, reading the newspaper that evening. As if he didn’t notice, or was not bothered by, the strengthening winds. Mrs. Schantz, who was crocheting in her rocking chair, was also silent. But she seemed ill at ease. Her eyebrows were arched and her forehead was crinkled. She frowned.
“Are you all right, Mrs. Schantz?” Julia asked softly.
This question woke Mrs. Schantz up from her pensiveness. “Oh, yes, yes, fine. I am fine, Julia.” She began rocking stiffly in her chair and humming a light melody, attempting to prove nothing was wrong.
“Worried about this storm, she is,” Mr. Schantz said, without looking up from his paper. “Julia, nothing’s goin’ happen. These winds ain’t near strong enough.”
Mrs. Schantz abruptly got up from her chair, grunting in frustration, and went to the kitchen. After shaking his head and straightening the crisp evening newspaper, Mr. Schantz stood abruptly.
Julia followed Mrs. Schantz into her kitchen. The woman was sitting on the counter, her shoulders almost touching her ears, and leaning forward.
Julia noticed her heavy breathing. He was not far away. “Are you alright? You’re restless.”
“Nothing’s the matter,” she said.
“I know something is weighing on you. Is it the winds, the coming storm?”
Julia put her arm across Mrs. Schantz’s shoulders. She ignored it and moved to the opposite side of the kitchen. “I don’t think it concerns you. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Are you upset at Mr. Schantz because he isn’t concerned about you or the storm?”
LeAnne’s shoulders were still set hard and cold. Her hands gripped the edge. Julia observed LeAnne’s reddening neck as she slowly lifted her face towards the ceiling. Her chest was even more agitated by two small bumps, which she felt pressing against her heavy blouse.
LeAnne noticed Julia’s gaze and crossed her arms. “I need to be left alone. Go to your room.”
Julia stated no. “I am worried about this storm too and about what I’ve heard from Mrs. Schumacher and Mrs. Latzke, the man on the wall.”
LeAnne gasped. She raised her arm towards her, but then stopped. “Do not Everyday Mention it here. I don’t want to hear it. He doesn’t exist. It is … He is nothing but a lie!”
Julia was struck by Mrs. Schantz’s harsh retort. This was the first time she had ever acted in such a manner. She was kind, patient, and gentle. A strong woman.
Julia replied back. “But Mrs. Latzke and Mrs. Schumacher, they’ve met him. You, too. How is he not real now?”
“Julia!” Mrs. Schantz snapped like an angry mother, “leave me alone. Go to your room!”
Mrs. Schantz slammed on the counter with her other hand, causing the silverware rattle to fall into the drawer.
“These summer winds, I tell you, nothing comes with them. We all were lying. Lying, everyone of us,” Mrs. Schantz hissed. Her eyes revealed the truth of her heart. Seeing venom, Julia left her alone.
Julia made her way through the sitting room. “I am going to rest for the night, Mr. Schantz. Tomorrow is a long one. Pray the storm passes us without a trace.”
“No need to pray. All you need is a little wind. Don’t let Mrs. Schantz get you all worked up. She’s nutty on nights like these.” And he gave a flippant wave and then folded the newspaper.
The trees moved under the wind that night and their trunks groaned. A branch cracked, and, throughout the storm, it smacked and scratched against Julia’s bedroom window, eeking against the pane. Julia lay fearfully alone with her blankets pulled to her neck, as if she were a little child. There were strange sounds and shadows in the house. She tried to fall asleep but couldn’t stop thinking. The fear of the storm and the questions about the women’s stories of that silhouette ran through her mind. She tried to believe Mrs. Schantz’s words in the kitchen that the silhouette was a fabrication. But she couldn’t convince herself.
The broken branch was suddenly pushed against her windows again by wind, and the branch banged against the pane. Julia was shaken by the sound. She gathered her courage and walked to the window to check if the branch would break the glass. As she turned her back, she saw dark movements in her room near her dresser. Immediately she thought of Mrs. Latzke’s encounter. In her head, she replayed the stories that she had heard. She began to see a shadow moving along the wall from floor to ceiling. And she remembered how the Silhouette moved between Mrs. Latzke’s chest of drawers and her armoire. The Silhouette can’t be hereJulia had an idea. He was known by the others. He would do the same to me, wouldn’t he?
Julia’s mind eased, after a calm in the storm and in the house. She convinced herself that the sounds and shadows were not real. “Just everyday sights and sounds seen and heard in the dark,” she muttered. She felt better, and the peace allowed her to rest a bit.
She heard the door open soon enough, but it was too quiet to hear. She was startled by the sound of a key, which sparked her interest and awakened her to nervousness.
A silhouette wouldn’t, couldn’t, open a She thought of the door. She giggled at her foolishness and fears. It had to have been Mrs. Schantz. It was likely that one of them was out of bed. There was no one else there. However, her mind didn’t give up. What if it wasn’t?
Julia closed her eyes and regulated her breathing. “There is nothing to be afraid of,” she repeated to herself.
A creak was heard in the hallway from the hard wood flooring. It was a familiar sound that could be heard whenever someone passed the staircase. Her room was right next to those stairs. She heard footsteps continue down the hallway towards her bedroom door.
She sat down in bed. Somebody, some thing, is on this pathShe thought so. It was the Silhouette.
“No,” she commanded herself to believe, “just one of the Shantzs.” She added in a whisper, “There is nothing to be afraid of.”
Outside, the wind picked up suddenly and the branch was eerily against her window. She grated her teeth. Her heart beat faster. Her throat tightened. She thought back to Mrs. Latzke’s weeping and reddened knees. And Mrs. Schumacher, with the saltiness in her mouth, and the dried goo in her hair. And Mrs. Schantz. She claimed that none of this was true, and stated that strange things had occurred to all of them, each of them in the Louise Hollis Community Center.
The thoughts spun Julia’s mind, stealing her calm. The Silhouette might choose me if it wanted them. What would it need from me? Something bad?
And there was Mrs. Latzke’s wanton smile. It was a smile that expressed a deep desire to have more of this lustfulness. Julia’s mind countered that thought with an image of the man she loved, her fiancé. She wanted him to be her first, and only man to know her. But, her thoughts started to get soiled. She started to think:
The Silhouette wasn’t a man, if it was even real, so my husband would be the only “man” I would know. No matter what it asked, no matter how I did it, I would still be a virgin to him, even if the Silhouette shaved my legs or messed with my hair. Her mind was still open. What would it be like to have something large and long in my … She ran her finger across her secret lips. It was immediately moistened, and there was a warmth of excitement.
A second movement caught her attention, pulling away any thoughts of wantonness. For a half second, she was unable to see the steady, soft light from underneath her bedroom door. Her throat tightened again. She forced herself to lie back, now fully awake, and began to squeeze her bedsheets. Could the Silhouette suddenly make a loud noise, or attack silently and suddenly? I could escape. But Mrs. Latzke didn’t hear anything and she wanted to follow it. What if it said I had to do that? What if I didn’t want to do it?
Mrs. Latzke’s wicked smile came to mind again. It was a deep desire. It was a fiery, animalistic desire.
A shuffling in the hallway came close to Julia’s room, and it stopped just beyond her door. This time the soft light from under the door was blocked. The door handle was softly turned. The moonlight was reflected on the handle by the twist. Julia licked her lips to stop a scream. But there was no shaking of the handle or wild rattling. It appeared that the person on the other side did not want to go in but checked that it was locked.
Julia sat up. “Mrs. Schantz?” she whimpered.
The shadow at her front door passed. Its passing left her feeling as relieved as a night such as this.
It doesn’t want me. It left me aloneShe thought. She started to breathe again. She lost weight.
However, before she knew it, another thought entered her head. Maybe it didn’t realize I am here. The Silhouette might just wander until it finds the right thing. She shuffled deeper into her bed, and pulled the sheets to her eyes.
Another click. The door to the second bedroom opened and closed with one click. It wasn’t the door to the master bedroom. It led to the room next to hers. The second floor was empty except for the three mentioned above.
Julia covered her mouth after she heard a shuffling sound in the room. She held on tightly to her hand until she calmed down.. Keep your head down and go to bed. If only Mr. Schantz and Mrs. Schantz were awake, then I could stop worrying. I would sleep more soundly.
Julia slipped from her bed. She slipped out of her bed, and she tripped across her room trying to avoid that one aching wood plank. She ran to the next bedroom and found the door locked. Julia knocked at the door. “Mrs. Schantz! Mr. Schantz! Are you alright? Let me in to help you.”
Nobody has answered.
She put her ear against the front door. “Hello? Who’s in there?”
In a husky, tired voice, Mrs. Schantz answered, “Julia, I am fine. Leave, go back to bed.”
“Did you fall down? Do you need my help?”
“I didn’t fall,” LeAnne barked. “I’m cleaning in here. Go away!”
“Why are you cleaning in the middle …”
The sudden grunts and the heave in her chest shocked her. With a ragged voice, Mrs. Schantz uttered, “Leave… me alone.”
Julia went into her room, terrified and confused, after leaving the door. She didn’t go to bed though. Instead of going to bed, she went into the dark closet. It shared a wall space with the next room. She moved past her dresses, avoiding the heels on the ground. She stopped when she heard a loud, growling scream and a wild shriek. The moan was sweet and an invitation for her to repeat the same thing. The invitation was accepted by the person who received it. The moans became louder and more rapid.
Julia lowered her hands to her knees, and placed her ear against a wall. She heard mattress springs squeak in quick rhythm. She soon understood what was going on in the next room.
“The Silhouette,” she whispered in fear. She remained silent, listening, until she heard a woman’s last unholy screech. Animalistic, shameless, orgasmic.
After that, all went quiet in the other bedroom. No squeaks. No movement. There were no grunts. However, suddenly and gently, the clothes hangers were rubbing against each other, and Julia’s dresses swung. Julia felt a warm breeze as she pulled her ear away the wall. In case Mrs. Schantz had come into her room to make her mad, Julia looked over her shoulder. Julia glanced back to see a gray cloud between her and the closet doorway. Julia could still see her messy bed and oak chest of drawers but the room was blurred. She tried to determine if her mind was trying to trick her or if she had become used to the darkness of the closet. When she felt the warmth surrounding her, she knew her answer. It felt as smooth as shea butter. Just as Mrs. Latzke had described.
As if she had two hands, the warmth touched her bottoms and moved around her ankles, calves, knees and thighs.
She felt her entire body covered by the warm hands. They even touched her intimate areas, reminding that she was still wearing her nightdress. As she figured, the hands rose to the back of her legs. The little hairs were straightening. To counter the intense sensation, her tiny toes pressed into the floor to get a stronger tingle.
Her hands moved towards her front, grasping the tender flesh and kneading her legs until she felt the pain. It tightened her innocent anus as the warmth moved between her cheeks. Julia allowed the warmth to go wherever it pleased. It licked her rosebud, which was tightly drawn. When it touched her pink lips, she squealed like a little girl. She was tense from the attention. She was desperate for more.
She thought of Mrs. Latzke’s wanton smile. She understood now why she smiled so much.
The warmth moved over her hips and tuft of trimmed hair, above her pussy. The warmth blew briefly into her navel. The warmth cupped her breasts and her juvenile giggles stopped. Instantly her nipples grew hard. The warmth poured through the hardened flesh. They were twitched, one at a time, then another, then finally together. As she took in the attention, her head sank to her left shoulder. She gasped when she felt the roughness in her tongue as it swabbed over her light brown nipples. This was the first time anyone had ever touched her like that. Fearing for her own pleasure, she avoided even playing. These worries vanished when she felt the warmth. The warmth was only temporary.
“Give me more. I want more,” she whispered.
But it slid away, down her stomach and off her hips. She was again cold.
“Where did you go?” she asked. “Don’t leave me.” She felt like a close friend had abruptly ended a deeply personal conversation.
A deep, noble voice spoke clearly. “Lift your gown.”
Without a second thought about Mrs. Schantz, the morning at the community center, Ruth or Thelma, or, least of all, her fiancé, she shimmied the nightgown up her legs, baring her ivory bottom.
She felt warmth in her lower back, but it quickly faded as she felt something firm and unaffected pressing against her pussy. She thought of Ruth and her description of the cucumber from Mrs. Hamilton’s garden. “I will deny ever saying that,” Mrs. Latzke had said.
The pressure grew against Julia’s virginity and a worry about the pain of tearing her flesh.
“Wait, wait,” she stammered. But there was no stopping her.
The dick forced its way into Julia, breaking her innocence. Julia gasped as it entered her deeply and pulled back. The tip landed at the edge of Julia’s entrance and bumped into her swelling clit. She winced and hissed as though she were being burned. She experienced the excitement and new sensation of sexual pleasure. Julia’s eyes were closed and her jaw was offset. As she was being fucked, her head bobbed back and forth. Soon her head was cloudy from the excess of lust and tenderness. She was near euphoria and was allowed to take a deep breath. It left her feeling empty and in desperate need of it all over again.
“Again, more, more, please.” She ached out the request.
She felt the tip of her cock touch her pussyfolds again. Although she knew the cock had entered her, she felt only a few grazes against her flesh.
She offered herself to the cock and spread her knees apart to make it easier to access her wet, sexy labia. The cock didn’t press where she expected however. It pushed harder and slower against her tighter rump. As a natural reaction, she tightened her ass. She also had a moral reaction.
“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. Don’t hurt me.” She swatted behind her but hit nothing. She winced at the push of the cock into her. Her delicate skin burned, and she was unable to withstand each thrust. The cock finally pulled out. Julia’s ass was left stinging, a hot burning. It was difficult for her to get it tighter again.
It had been a long night. Julia was exhausted and could only relax on the cool floor of her closet. Her ass remained high. She didn’t care. She was in a state of confusion, intense pleasure, embarrassment and guilt, unconcern, and most importantly, a persistent hedonistic longing.
Julia screamed and stood upright. “Mrs. Schantz!”
LeAnne was there, shady by the gray veil.
“Let me help you to the bed,” she said.
Julia felt jittery when she left the closet. Her knees wobbled. She knew she had gone far. She was never the same. A greater worry of Julia’s now was, the whole time, Mrs. Schantz had watched.
Julia climbed into her bed. Julia turned her red face towards LeAnne, but she diverted her gaze. “How much did you see?”
“Everything,” she replied tenderly. “Was it all you expected?”
Julia was about ready to answer LeAnne’s question when she placed her hands between LeAnne’s legs. Her cold, rough hands touched her inner thighs, and she pushed her legs outwards. Then her fingers brushed through Julia’s brown bush.
“Mrs. Schantz!” Julia squeaked, confused.
LeAnne didn’t answer. LeAnne instead silenced the girl with a touch of her clit. Julia was unable to resist the urge to touch her clit, and she reacted by arching her back.
Julia knew someone else was in the room, maybe Mr. Schantz, when she heard Mrs. Schantz say, “She is ready. She is yours.”
“Whose am I?” Julia asked worriedly. “Don’t let your husband see me like this.”
“No one is here. Only me and Zulmanu,” LeAnne said.
“Zulmanu, the Silhouette we’ve all seen. The one who had you before all men.”
Julia turned to LeAnne to see that Mrs. Schantz was holding a length of dark hair in her hands. Julia’s eyes followed the length from the mushroom-curved tip in Mrs. Schantz’s hand up the wall to the ceiling. It was Silhouette, the shadow. Other than the size of its shadow and the length it has in its cock, there were no features.
“You know its name?” Julia asked.
LeAnne gently guided the young lady, so that her back was against the wall. “Zulmanu has visited for many years. He runs with the winds.”
LeAnne aligned the cock with Julia’s pussy. She then raised one of Julia’s legs to stretch and open her swollen lips.
“Zulmanu is an ancient lover of women,” LeAnne added.
Julia heard the cock enter her mouth as she said it. Julia did the first thrust and then rocked with all the others. It took the same length. Soon, her body began to shake violently. Zulmanu’s thrusts intensified. Julia grunted at each inward push. The rocking intensified, speeding up, deeper, and deeper into Julia’s sex. Warm cream filled her. Julia remained stiff, unmoved.
Julia glanced at LeAnne, then turned her attention to the ceiling and the shadowed head Zulmanu. Her body was tired. Stretched, broken, burning, sweaty. The cum ooze finally escaped her pussy. It ran down her body, over her burning sex and dampened the sheets.
LeAnne smiled, motherly, staring down at Julia’s young flesh.
Julia woke up sore the next morning. Julia regained her composure and ran into the bathroom. She looked into the mirror. Her hair was matted, and she had sweaty strands stuck to her forehead. She scrubbed the stickiness away. She walked slowly down the stairs, hoping to disguise her pain.
Julia stepped into our kitchen.
“The storm passed over last night,” Mr. Schantz was telling LeAnne, was washing dishes. “Everything is fine. Didn’t I tell you that’s how it would be?”
“Good morning,” Julia said weakly.
“You look like you had a rough night,” Mr. Schantz said, studying her body. “The storm keep you up late too?”
“Very late, yes,” she said.
LeAnne washed and dried the dishes. She then turned her back to Julia. “Breakfast will be ready soon. Have a seat at the table.”
Mr. Schantz looked at both the men and women. “Both you seem more tired than you should be. The storm wasn’t even that bad.”
“I felt it for a long time,” Julia said.
Mrs. Schantz stiffened. “She was afraid, so I stayed by her,” said LeAnne, hands hidden in the soapy foam in the sink.
“So that’s where you went last night,” Mr. Schantz said.
Claire Woodruff works as a clerk at a Washington, DC legal office. In junior high, she began writing fiction out of boredom. She has never stopped loving it. She balances her legal background with her imagination about the risky aspects of life. She lives in Northern Virginia together with her husband.