If somebody had predicted that I would one day encounter the supernatural and that I would also become intimate with my stepsister Poppy, I would have said that I didn’t believe them on either count. Only I would have used stronger terminology than ‘I don’t believe you.’

I was never a kid with a great imagination, and never into science fiction or fantasy, or indeed fiction in general. I never believed in ghosts or other types of spirits such as poltergeists, and always scoffed at and was scornful of the very notion. Anything and everything had to have a logical and rational explanation firmly on Planet Earth.

I was most definitely not thinking of the supernatural in the early months of 1991 when my Dad Warren and my stepmother Leah began the process of selling the house in London where we lived, and finding a new house in the Chelmsford area of Essex.

Our semi-detached house in London was nice enough, but starting to age a bit and with only one bathroom was rather small for two adults in Dad and Leah and three teenagers in myself, my stepsister Poppy and my stepbrother Jacob. Originally there were four teenagers when my older brother Simon lived at home, but Simon had joined the army after finishing school and we now only saw him when he was on leave.

The added benefits of moving to Essex included more fresh air and that Chelmsford was an easy commute for Dad and Leah, who both worked in the finance industry respectively as a bank manager and a financial planner. It was also easy for Poppy, Jacob and I to get to the school we attended in London. Our school was a private school, so Poppy and I who were undertaking our A-levels that year would not have the stress of changing schools, and Jacob who was a star footballer could continue with the specialist football program at the school.

While selling an existing house and attempting to buy a new house at the same time can be stressful, in Dad and Leah’s case things ran pretty smoothly. There was an interested buyer on our London house who put in an offer after one viewing, and on a trip to Essex to look at suitable houses Dad and Leah found a perfect house that had everything they desired and more. The offers went through without fuss, and in March 1991 it was goodbye London and hello Essex.

I really liked our new house from the first time I saw it, and it was in a nice street with nice neighbors. It also stood on its own, unlike the semi-detached house I had grown up in. Most of all, I was happy for Dad and Leah that they had found a place they loved so much. Dad had been hit pretty hard when our Mum Lucy, who had always been fairly flighty and irresponsible, suddenly left our lives one day to accompany her secret boyfriend – an Australian traveler – back to his home in Sydney. There was no warning, no note, no explanation, no apology, nothing. She simply left her husband and two young sons behind in England and went overseas to Australia with her new lover. We never heard from her again aside from divorce formalities conducted through a lawyer. In all the years since, Mum never sent either Simon or I a Christmas or birthday card.

My brother and I were really happy when Dad met and married Leah, and we both liked her too. She looked different from Mum obviously, Mum had red hair and green eyes which was a feature shared by Simon, while I had inherited Dad’s brown hair and brown eyes. Leah was a petite little lady, only four feet eleven when barefoot and had blonde hair, a fair complexion and blue eyes.

Like Dad, Leah was a divorcee and had had the stress of an irresponsible former spouse, in the form of her ex-husband Moses, Poppy and Jacob’s father. Moses was originally from Egypt, although he was of Christian background rather than of Muslim faith. What religion Moses was probably wasn’t relevant, because it probably wouldn’t have made him better organized or more responsible. He was always one of those people who was perpetually running late, always short of money and always leaving everything to the last minute. He would often be hours late when he had to pick up his daughter and son, leaving Poppy and Jacob most disappointed.

Yet despite Moses’s failings as a father and husband, it was impossible to dislike him, as he was easygoing, a nice guy and had a great sense of humor. Simon and I liked him as did Dad, and while Poppy and Jacob had so often been let down by their father, they clearly loved him. Although Moses was not going to be nominated for father of the year anytime soon, at least unlike our Mum there was at least an effort from him to be a part of his children’s lives, to try to be a responsible parent and to have a respectful and polite relationship with his former wife.

Moses was a tall man – about six feet two – and his two kids had inherited his height, as well as his Egyptian features, both Poppy and Jacob looking more like their father than their mother. Jacob looked like a younger version of Moses, although with a slightly lighter complexion obviously due to his mother’s genetics.

Another thing Jacob had inherited from his father was his sense of humor, and he was always making jokes. Although Dad, Simon and I found that a little bit of Jacob went a long way and that Jacob found himself funnier than the rest of the world perceived him to be, we could not help but like him. Leah and Poppy were not nearly so impressed with Jacob’s sense of humor. With Leah it was because she had many years of trying to control her hyperactive son both at home and in public, and having conferences at school to discuss his antics. With Poppy, she often bore the brunt of her younger brother’s practical jokes, such as him jumping out from around a corner and bursting a plastic bag behind her or him turning off the bathroom light while Poppy was using the loo, so she wasn’t a fan of his humor either.

As for Poppy, she stood at an impressive six feet tall when barefoot. I think poor Leah must have felt like a pygmy in a land of giants at times. Dad, Simon and I all stood at six feet tall, her ex-husband and her son were over six feet tall and her teenage daughter stood a full foot taller than her. Poppy also had a much bigger bone structure than her petite mother, although Poppy was not fat in any way. Maybe she could have lost a pound or two on her bum, but nothing aside from this. Another noticeable difference between mother and daughter was their boobs. Leah had small breasts, probably an A cup, while Poppy’s massive mammary glands easily filled a D cup.

However, it was in general looks that Leah and Poppy contrasted the most. Thanks to her father’s Egyptian background, Poppy had classic feminine beauty often observed in Middle Eastern and North African women. Like her brother, Poppy’s skin tone was not as dark as their father’s due to a Caucasian mother, and her complexion was a flawless mocha color. Poppy had long, dark and slightly wavy hair and the highlight of her pretty face was her big brown eyes, again a big contrast with her blonde mother’s pale blue eyes. Seeing Leah and Poppy together, it was hard to believe that they were even distantly related, much less mother and daughter.

While very beautiful, Poppy unfortunately had some shortfalls in her personality. She had always been quite awkward, nervous and highly strung, and it wasn’t hard to make her cry, almost anything sad, scary or stressful brought on the waterworks. Poppy always tried so hard to do the right thing and would always want to do someone a good turn rather than a bad one, yet despite her best efforts things would go wrong and she would wind up getting into trouble.

Definitely naïve and something of a dreamer, Poppy’s physical beauty wasn’t enough to win her popularity at school either with students or teachers. Her height might have been an advantage at a sport such as netball, but again despite trying really hard she didn’t have the talent to succeed at sports and only earned the ridicule of the other girls and the disappointment of the sports teachers, who thought that such a tall girl would be a major asset to the netball team. Poppy did have two good female friends at school, a really overweight blonde girl and a red haired girl with bad skin who was probably at the end of the line when looks were handed out. To a cynical observer seeing pretty Poppy with her friends it might have looked like Poppy was a mean girl who surrounded herself with overweight and unattractive friends to enhance her own beauty, but this was definitely not the case.

At home, the opinions upon Poppy between Dad, Simon and I were mixed at best. Dad tolerated her and was polite, but it was a curt politeness like he was dealing with a customer or colleague at the bank that he wasn’t overly fond of. I think Dad would have always liked to have a daughter, but unfortunately stepdaughter Poppy did not quite measure up. Things most definitely did not improve when Poppy was getting her driver’s license, and Dad attempted to give her some lessons before her upcoming test. It didn’t go very well, to put it mildly. In something of a paradox nervous Poppy passed her test first time, while I had performed better while learning to drive but failed my first test, getting my license on the second attempt.

Simon could not stand Poppy, and would do his best to avoid her, answering her in terse monosyllables when it was impossible for him to avoid conversing with her. The dislike was not mutual, the nice-natured and naïve Poppy was always trying to be friends with Simon in her awkward way, but she never got very far.

“Brett, I don’t know how you can put up with her, much less like her,” Simon said to me one day.

“Oh she’s okay, Simon,” I said. “I’ve always gotten along well with Poppy. Perhaps you should give her more of a chance?”

“Um, no thanks, I’m good,” said Simon. “Maybe I can emigrate to South Africa or Canada? Poppy is nowhere near South Africa or Canada.”

Feeling somewhat like the middle child who resolves family issues, I had a great idea when we were in our mid-teens. There was a fair along the banks of the Thames for a bank holiday weekend, how about Simon, Poppy, Jacob and I all go together? Then Simon could see Poppy wasn’t so bad after all, they would have fun together and he would like her too? Unfortunately it was to no avail. Simon didn’t have any fun, and returned despising Poppy just as much as ever, probably even more. It was lucky that unlike Dad and Leah Simon never attempted to teach Poppy how to drive!

Simon was right about one thing, Poppy and I did get along well. We were close in age, born just a month apart in the spring of 1974. Poppy was slightly older than me, born on March 17 – St. Patrick’s Day, an easy date to remember. I was born on April 25, another easy date to remember as it was Anzac Day in Australia and in New Zealand.

While Poppy and I did not meet until we were both aged 11, we seemed to click straight away and became like brother and sister as well as good friends. Being the same age, we were in the same year at school and took a lot of the same subjects, and also had similar tastes in movies, television and music. While Poppy had a tendency to rub people up the wrong way and irritate them, it never seemed to bother me and I always seemed to see the good side of her.

I also felt very sorry for Poppy, my stepsister trying so hard to be nice and always wanting to do the right thing but it not working out and her ending up in trouble or being rejected. This and with Poppy being so unworldly and innocent, I was very protective of her like a brother would be with his sister. I always would try to defend her and stand up for her when people weren’t so nice to her, be this other kids who tried to bully her or adults. I got a week’s worth of detention at high school when I stood up for Poppy against a mean jerk of an English teacher who reduced Poppy to tears by nastily ridiculing her naïve interpretation of a book we were studying, but given my time again I wouldn’t have changed anything, and in fact would have called our English teacher a ‘fucking idiot’ rather than simply an idiot.

Moving into our new house in Essex, we couldn’t have been happier with the four bedroom, two bathroom dwelling with a double car garage and nice garden. For the first week, our new home was perfect, just an ordinary suburban house in a street in Essex that Dad, Leah, Poppy, Jacob and I all loved. Unfortunately, when something appears too good to be true it usually is, and the new house proved a very good example of this adage.

The first sign that something was amiss with our new house came in the middle of the night a week after we moved in. We were all roused from our beds by somebody pounding on the front door at two in the morning, and the doorbell ringing repeatedly. Dad went to answer it, thinking there might be some sort of emergency, only to find nobody there, and nobody in the vicinity.

Dad went back to bed grumbling about ‘stupid kids with nothing better to do than cause trouble’, which seemed a fair assessment of the situation. Everything was quiet and we all went back to bed and fell back to sleep, only for the same banging on the door and ringing of the doorbell to rouse us again just after four. Again, nobody was there and once more we assumed it was stupid kids playing practical jokes. None of us thought any more about it, only hoping that these kids would not make a habit of it.

There were no issues the next few nights, but on the Friday afternoon Dad and I arrived home at the same time and found our front door wide open. Worrying we had been broken into, Dad and I cautiously went inside but no intruders were around and the front door was unlocked, it hadn’t been forced open.

Dad was puzzled. “Brett, I swear I closed and locked the door when I left the house,” he said. Again, neither of us thought too much more about it. Perhaps Dad had simply forgotten to lock and close the front door? It was out of character for him, but maybe just one of those things.

The next day I was alone in the house working on an English essay for school. Poppy, Jacob and I had part time retail jobs while attending school like many teenagers, but this Saturday I was not rostered on so was doing some catch up homework. Dad and Leah were out, and Poppy and Jacob were both at work, so it was quiet. Very quiet. A little too quiet.

Such was the silence of the house that it was almost loud, it was eerie. I had never felt this sensation before, it was quite unnerving. I kept thinking that I might be getting sick, especially as the house was cold. Really, really cold. Outside it was a cool, grey and drizzly day, not uncommon for the south of England in spring, but the house felt like it had been left for weeks in the middle of winter. I turned up the heating, but to no avail.

While puzzled by the cold temperatures and eerie silence, I again had no reason to think anything funny was going on. Then on Wednesday afternoon there was another strange incident. I heard Leah talking in the kitchen, and knew Poppy, Jacob and Dad were all out. So who was Leah talking to? I entered the kitchen, to which Leah jumped and turned around, immediately looking alarmed.

“Are you okay, Leah?” I asked my stepmother.

“Brett, how did you get there?” Leah asked.

“I was in the living room, I heard you talking to somebody,” I said.

“I was talking to you Brett, asking you how your day was. I thought you were standing right beside me.”

Neither Leah nor I could make any sense of this save for an overly active imagination on the part of my stepmother. Nothing else odd happened for a week or so, but soon other things happened over the next few weeks that in isolation might be able to be explained as a one-off, but together became more than a little un-nerving.

Objects would disappear and turn up in unexpected places. These included Dad’s briefcase, which somehow ended up in the garden shed, Jacob’s football boots which we found on top of a linen cupboard and a pair of Poppy’s stirrup pant leggings that turned up in the kitchen pantry of all places. My maths assignment vanished completely the night before it was due to be handed in only we never saw it again, and I had to race to complete the whole bloody thing again.

The house was so cold, always so cold even though spring was now giving way to summer. Windows would be open when they shouldn’t have been, interior doors would be closed and locked again when they shouldn’t be, but when we went to get the keys the door would be open and unlocked when we returned.

Then there were the noises, the strange and eerie noises. There would be knocking sounds on the exterior windows and doors in the night or during the day if you were home alone. But being home alone was not a pleasant experience. When in the house by myself I always felt like I was being watched, even though I knew it was ridiculous and impossible. I told myself it was just my imagination, yet still the feelings persisted.

And when I passed by Poppy’s room one night, Poppy was in tears and complaining to her mother about how she felt that she was always being watched in the house, Leah handing her daughter tissues and trying to console her, I knew it was not just me. I began to feel quite foolish about my previous complete and absolute conviction that there were no ghosts.

None of us said the word ‘ghost’ to each other as our dream house began to turn to something more of a nightmare in the summer of 1991. I think we were in denial, not wanting to believe anything was wrong. Yet it was impossible to deny something was seriously wrong with our new house. There came odd noises with the plumbing, humming noises from the water pipes and strange bubbling sounds audible from the drains. Another night Poppy was taking a shower when we heard her scream in the bathroom, the problem being that the water had turned from warm to icy in a second and with no explanation.

It was around this time that the footsteps arrived. Morning, afternoon, evening and most unnervingly in the middle of the night, we would hear footsteps on the ground floor, upstairs, on the staircase and in the attic. From the attic we could also hear rustling and scuffling noises or thumps as though something had fallen over, but whenever we pulled down the stairs to investigate, everything was quiet and in order.

We didn’t have any pets, however Leah’s sister and her husband dropped their cat off with us to stay for ten days while they went on holiday to Portugal. But the cat was so un-nerved and traumatized in the house, running around hissing and growling with her fur puffed up, arching her back and spitting at places in a room or hallway where nobody was there, that after three days Leah took the cat to her mother to stay for the rest of the time her owners were on holiday.

Finally came the incident when we could no longer pretend that our house was a normal house in the suburbs of Essex. The five of us had been out for the day and came back late in the evening to find every door and window in the house wide open, even the garage. Every light was on, and both televisions, some radios and the stereo were blaring at full volume. There was no sign of a break in, and in any case what burglars would break into a house, open every door and window and turn on all the lights and appliances before departing not taking a single thing?

During the months that followed, we were subjected to one paranormal event after another. It was scary for all of us to catch ill-defined shadowy human-like forms out of the corner of our eyes on numerous occasions, never more than a fleeting glance lasting a second but enough to scare us. In many ways seeing these shadowy forms was more frightening than seeing a clearly defined ghost.

I was the only one who saw what might be defined as an actual ghost, although doubts lingered about what I saw. One night I awoke around three to the now familiar but still scary sound of footsteps in the hallway and for some reason was compelled to go to my bedroom window. It was raining heavily outside and standing in the rain under a street light was a man. The bespectacled middle-aged man looked remarkably like the Prime Minister John Major and was attired in a suit and tie, but he stood without an umbrella getting drenched in the deluge staring at our house, not moving an inch. I turned away, then looked back and still the man was standing there, still staring at our house. I turned away again, and looked back, but this time the mysterious man was gone. I never saw him again, and while he did not look like a traditional ‘ghost’, why would a man in a suit and tie be standing in the pouring rain staring at our house in the middle of the night, before vanishing completely?

The ghosts or poltergeist or whatever was in our house kept up their attack on us with the usual antics; the footsteps, the eerie rapping sounds on doors and windows in the hours of darkness, furniture and objects being out of place, and strange phone calls in the middle of the night, causing the telephone to ring but nothing there when it was answered, or eerie static on the answering machine when we did not answer one of these strange calls. The house would be very cold, inexplicably warm up, then within seconds go back to being icy cold, all regardless of the weather outside.

The stereo, radios and televisions would come on at will as would other appliances and the VCR would record in the middle of the night despite not having been programmed to do so. A grandmother clock that stood in the living room would chime at odd times in the night, sounding as loud as Big Ben. Lights would go on and off without people touching them and one time the refrigerator was turned off on its own, ruining the food within given the weather was hot that day. The ghost or ghosts also began to take an interest in Dad and Leah’s cars, once inexplicably removing a full tank of petrol from Dad’s car and another morning the engine of Leah’s car was warm, despite not her or anyone else driving it for hours.

Visitors’ cars could also be a target. Moses came to collect Poppy and Jacob for a day’s outing one Sunday, and when he tried to start his car it had been completely drained of petrol. There was no evidence of anyone fooling around the petrol cap to syphon fuel, and while it was not unlike absent-minded Moses to run low on fuel, on this occasion he had filled up his tank on the way around, and had the receipt to prove it.

Simon came to visit us on leave, and we found his car with four completely flat tyres, with the spare also drained of air. Again, possibly it could have been kids but if vandals were responsible, they probably would have slashed the tyres, not taken off the valve caps, let the tyres down then replaced the caps, before breaking into the car leaving no evidence of having done this to let down the spare tyre too? And the car had been left for just five minutes, not long enough to pull off this remarkable feat.

Desperate for answers to our problems but not wanting to make them public fearing ridicule or publicity if the media heard about our house, Dad, Leah and I did some research. I looked at books about ghosts and the paranormal, and we determined that probably we had a poltergeist problem. But this theory had some major flaws, the books stating that most poltergeist hauntings lasted only about six weeks and were connected with a person rather than a building. This didn’t seem to be the case with our house.

Adding to the mystery, our house did not seem to be a likely target for haunting. It had only been built in 1981 and just a decade old. Dad and Leah were just the third owners of the dwelling, the first owners living there from 1981-1984, and the second owners 1984-1991, so it wasn’t like people were coming and going quickly due to odd happenings at the property.

Nothing bad had ever happened at the house such as a murder, suicide or a nasty death from an accident or illness. When Dad and Leah purchased the house it was for a normal market price, it wasn’t abnormally cheap and too good to be true.

None of us had done anything that might account for the strange happenings, such as holding a séance with an Ouija board. In one of the books about the paranormal I read it mentioned that some people had experienced problems when antiques and second hand furniture were purchased and brought into their homes, but we had made no such purchases. The mystery of how we came to be living in a house with more ghosts than Borley Rectory, the Tower of London or Scotland’s Glamis Castle remained.

Simon and Moses, like Dad, Leah and I had no belief in the supernatural before we moved to this house, but with both observing strange things when here, not least having their cars messed around with, they were not so sure now. However, both of them put forward sensible, Earth-bound suggestions for the cause of the phenomena.

Simon suggested that perhaps there was a problem with the house’s ventilation, and that carbon monoxide leaks might be affecting us. Moses suggested that the house might have a mold problem, and recounted how the family of a woman he knew had weird experiences with a council house they moved into, and it turned out that toxic mold was causing them ill health and associated delusions.

We had the house checked by professionals for problems with carbon monoxide and mold, and neither were apparent. Thorough checks were also done on the electrics, the plumbing, the structure itself and for pests, to eliminate the possibility that mice and rats were responsible for at least some of the strange noises at night. No problems of any description were found. The house was perfect, apart from the small matter of it being haunted.

Selling the house and moving was mooted on several occasions, but there were some problems with this course of action. Property prices had fallen sharply during the recession, and we could not hope to get anywhere near the same price the house was purchased for. A loss on the sale would not leave us destitute, but it would be a significant blow to the family finances.

A second factor was that selling a house was difficult enough anyway in the current economic slump. With our house would the ghosts or poltergeists cooperate and stay out of the way while buyers were shown around by the real estate agents? From what we had seen, probably not.

Thirdly and most significantly, in summer 1991 the five of us went on a long weekend trip to France, catching the ferry at Dover and staying two nights in a nice little hotel in the French countryside. A nice little French hotel that had all the comforts of home, including footsteps, eerie knocking on the windows and doors, plumbing with weird quirks and shadow-like figures one could only catch out of the corner of one’s eye.

So unless in some amazing coincidence that we stayed in a hotel in France that had exactly the same type of haunting as our house back in England, then the conclusion was pretty obvious. Whatever was in our house had followed us to France. And if the ghosts in our house could accompany us on a short break to Europe, they could just as easily follow us to our new home.

By May 1992, Poppy and I were aged 18 and Jacob 16, and the three of us along with Dad and Leah were trying to live a normal life in a house that looked normal but was anything but. Dad and Leah attended work, Poppy and I had finished school and were now in the same business college and working part time, while Jacob was still at high school and also had a part time job, much of his spare time taken up with football commitments. We tried to appear a normal family and that nothing extraordinary was going on in our lives, but this was just a masquerade.

Dad, Leah and I while at times afraid of the supernatural happenings in our house, tended to get more frustrated and annoyed by them. Not to mention embarrassed how we all looked like fools given how we had all firmly stated that ghosts did not exist and now we lived in a haunted house.

The youngest Jacob was least affected. Sometimes he was annoyed by ghostly interference to his homework or moving his stuff around, but the ghosts bothered him least and given his comedic nature, he found some of the stuff going on amusing and cool, and something of a novelty.

Unfortunately, the ghosts seemed to save their most dastardly acts for Poppy. As the most naïve, highly strung and sensitive member of the family, the spirits residing in our house saw her as an easy target and were not disappointed, distressing, humiliating and terrifying her at every turn.

Alone among the family, Poppy was the only one to have claimed any physical touches from the entities. These included tugging on her hair, an invisible hand stopping her on the stairs one evening, awakening in the night to something touching her bare feet, having her bra strap snapped and the hem of her skirt getting lifted up of its own accord. It caused the poor girl no end of stress, and unfortunately was just the tip of a very large iceberg.

One morning not long after her 18th birthday, Poppy awoke and could not find any of her knickers aside from the ones she was wearing. Her clean knickers in her underwear drawer and her worn knickers in her dirty clothes hamper were nowhere to be found inside the house. However, the mystery of Poppy’s vanishing panties was soon solved, all of Poppy’s knickers were located in the front garden, much to my stepsister’s embarrassment and dismay. Some teenage boys watched with great interest as the attractive Poppy collected her panties and took them inside, humiliating her further.

Stealing Poppy’s panties was only one incident and far from the worst. One time Poppy had run herself a bath, went to get something from her room, then come back to find the tub had been completely drained. Other times the water in the shower would turn icy cold when Poppy was using it, then go back to normal within seconds. Worse still was the supernatural harassment Poppy frequently suffered when she went to the toilet.

Several times, Poppy was sitting on the loo with her knickers around her ankles when the closed and locked bathroom door would swing open, Leah having to close it and stand guard outside so her daughter could have some privacy on the toilet. On another night, something invisible flushed the toilet while Poppy was sitting on it, leaving the distraught Poppy in tears and with a wet bum.

Other times Poppy had the light turned off while she was using the toilet, forcing the distraught girl to feel around in the darkness for some toilet paper. Given that Jacob had on occasion pranked his older sister by turning the light off on her when she went to the bathroom, he was considered a suspect. However, in the new house the bathroom light was inside the bathroom while at the old one it was outside the bathroom door, so Jacob could not be responsible, and in any case this had happened when Jacob was not even home.

Poppy had complained to her mother that on several occasions toilet paper had been snatched from her fingers by invisible hands in the bathroom when she was trying to wipe her bottom. Worse was one morning when Poppy awoke needing to use the loo but could find no toilet paper in either the main bathroom or the ensuite bathroom, nor any in the storage cupboard where it should have been. Poppy got some tissues to use as her toilet paper, but when she had been to the toilet, returned from the loo ten minutes later and entered her bedroom, every missing toilet roll was now on her bed, freaking out and frustrating her in equal measure.

The ghosts seemed determined to prove that they were able play even more spectacular toilet pranks on her at will. Another morning Poppy had eaten something that didn’t quite agree with her stomach causing her to have diarrhea and she was obviously desperate to go to the loo, but both bathroom doors were closed and locked tight, and nothing we could do would get them open. Poppy had no alternative but to use a bucket to go to the toilet, but when she finished the bathroom doors opened with no fuss.

Poor Poppy knew no privacy in the house, and the ghosts never gave her a break even when it was her time of the month. Poppy had always had really bad girls’ problems with menstrual cramps and a heavy flow so she did not need any additional things to deal with when she had her period, but the mean-spirited ghosts clearly had other ideas.

One morning when she was menstruating Poppy awoke needing a change of pad, but to her horror her sanitary napkins had completely vanished. Going to her mother, Leah found her own pads and tampons missing too. Leah solved Poppy’s problem by giving her daughter a clean washcloth and some safety pins so she could attach the cloth to her knickers and this could substitute until Poppy could buy some new pads. Going to the garage to drive to the shops to make these purchases, Leah and Poppy were struck dumb with surprise to find their missing feminine hygiene products in a neat row on the roof of Leah’s car, with no rational explanation as to how they got there.

Poppy was obviously too scared to be in the house alone especially at night, but the last weekend in May – a long weekend in England – would see a reduced number of people in the house, which added to her apprehension. Dad and Leah were going away to Devon for the weekend with Dad’s brother and his wife, the two couples enjoying a nice break by the seaside in Torquay.

Jacob and his class year group were going away on a school camp to Blackpool for eight days. Jacob’s class were leaving on the Friday before the long weekend, while Dad and Leah were taking the Friday off so they had three full days down in Devon. This of course meant that Poppy and I would be together on Friday, Saturday and Sunday night, until Dad and Leah returned late on Monday afternoon.

Jacob would not be back until next Friday, and was keen to frighten his older sister as much as he could before he departed. “So Poppy, what are you going to do when Brett goes out with his mates and leaves you alone in the house at night?” he asked as we were in the kitchen on Friday morning.

“Jacob, please don’t tease me,” Poppy protested meekly. “You know what Mum and Warren said about not frightening me.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about being alone in the house at night, Poppy,” asserted her younger brother. “You have to worry about not being alone in this house at night.”

Jacob laughed an evil laugh like a pantomime villain and made ghost noises, achieving his aim of scaring Poppy easily, the teenager squirming in her seat in terror. She looked at me with a pleading look in her big brown eyes. “Brett, please promise me you won’t leave me alone in the house over the weekend?”

“It’s okay Poppy, I won’t leave you alone,” I promised my stepsister.

“Hopefully the ghosts won’t bother you while you’re sitting on the loo like they usually do,” smirked Jacob. “Although I have to say they are braver than me, imagine going into the bathroom while you’re on the toilet, Poppy. Phew!” Jacob flapped his hand under is nose as though banishing a bad smell and laughed.

“Jacob!” Poppy exclaimed, her face red with fear, embarrassment and indignation.

Jacob checked his watch. “Well, I’d better be going. I’ll see you next week. Have fun this weekend Poppy, you and Brett and the poltergeists sharing a dark, scary house.”

“Jacob!” the frightened Poppy protested, as her brother left the room carrying his things.

“Bye Mum, bye Warren, see you next week,” Poppy and I heard Jacob say as he made for the front door.

“Jacob, have you been teasing your sister about ghosts again?” came Leah’s voice.

Jacob’s reply contained his mock innocence as he departed the house. “What? Me? Teasing sister? However could one think such a thing of one’s own son, Mother?”

“Day one of eight Jacob free days,” Leah sighed in relief as she came into the kitchen.

Dad laughed. “Unless Jacob messes around at camp and you have to drive up to Blackpool and collect him, Leah.”

Leah also laughed. “I think you meant to say that you’ll have to drive up to Blackpool and collect him, Warren.”

“Mum, do you and Warren really have to go away this weekend?” Poppy protested, her big brown eyes wide and fearful. “Things have been really bad lately. I’m scared something else will happen.”

“Poppy, don’t worry you’ll be fine,” Leah tried to assure her nervous daughter.

“You won’t be on your own in the house Poppy,” Dad said. “Brett will be here the whole time, he won’t leave you alone. Right son?”

“Right Dad,” I said. I turned to my stepsister. “Poppy, I promise I won’t leave you alone in the house this weekend. After we’ve been to college today, we’ll get a pizza and hire a video on the way home, we’ll have a good time and you won’t need to be scared of anything.”

Poppy did not seem all that convinced and still looked scared as her Mum and my Dad took their things out to the car and departed for Devon.

“Cheer up Poppy,” I tried to reassure Poppy as my stepsister looked around the house with her fearful brown eyes, waiting for something weird to happen. “Remember what happened when we went to France that time, and how the ghosts came with us? Perhaps the ghosts will feel like a long weekend down in Devon and will go with your Mum and my Dad? Or maybe they might like a week by the seaside up North and will follow Jacob to Blackpool?”

“No, they will stay here because I’m here and they always pick on me most,” Poppy lamented.

Before I could put any counter argument to Poppy to try and make her feel better, there came an eerie sound from the staircase. It was a sound we were well used to, but despite its familiarity, it was still scary. It was the footsteps slowly descending the stairs, one step at a time as in slow motion, the sound echoing in the quiet house like the sounds in the dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral. And Poppy and I were the only ones in the house.

Poppy looked fearful to the point where she was about to cry. I hastily grabbed our things for college. “Come on Poppy, let’s get out of here. Nothing bad will happen to us when we’re in class.”

I ushered the terrified teenager towards the front door, closing and locking it behind myself. Although it probably would be a waste of time, the ghosts or poltergeists could open any door or window they bloody well chose, they had proven this plenty of times in the past.

Poppy and I walked towards the bus stop, with me looking at the early morning sun and removing my stone washed denim jacket and carrying it under my arm, leaving me wearing a white tee-shirt, stone washed denim jeans and white running shoes. I glanced to one side at my stepsister. Poppy looked cute today, wearing a navy blue jumper, a navy blue pleated skirt that came down to just above her knees and her feet clad in white ankle socks and white sneakers. Her long dark brown hair was loose, but she had styled it with a blue bow.

Maybe it was the stress of living in a haunted house, but in recent weeks I had been noticing Poppy more and more, thinking about how great my stepsister looked in a variety of outfits. Her jeans with patches of cute cartoon animals worn with a tee-shirt. Her stirrup pants leggings worn with a jumper. Her regular stone washed jeans, and a number of skirts and dresses. Even her tracksuit I found hot.

Poppy’s nightwear often attracted my attention. Sometimes she would wear long pink pajamas to bed, and I would admire Poppy’s nice figure as she walked by barefoot in her pajamas. More often she would wear an over-sized tee-shirt over panties to bed, and I would check out Poppy’s long legs from the hem of her shirt down to her bare feet.

My conscience reminded me that Poppy was my stepsister, that we had lived together as siblings since we were both 12-years-old and that I should not be looking at her and finding her desirable, but still I kept thinking it. Perhaps it was because Poppy was a beautiful 18-year-old girl with no boyfriend and I had no girlfriend and we lived in the same house together? Or maybe it was the damsel in distress thing? Poppy was so terrified of the paranormal poltergeist happenings in our house and I was often trying to reassure and protect her, so perhaps this was a factor too?

Poppy and I spent the day attending our classes at college, then returned to Essex on the late afternoon bus. We stopped at the video rental shop and hired a movie – a comedy and definitely not a horror film – and purchased a pizza from the pizzeria across the road.

Walking back to our house through the late afternoon sunshine, the warm spring English weather continuing this Friday, I hoped that we would not come home to anything weird, such as the doors and windows all being open or music blaring at full volume. The house seemed normal enough as we walked down the front path, but as soon as we stepped inside Poppy and I were struck by the freezing cold in the hallway, it was like a deep freeze.

I could see my stepsister’s look of apprehension, which only got more as we went into the kitchen to get some drinks and found it was a normal room temperature, so different from the icy hallway.

“Don’t worry Poppy, we’ll watch TV and have this pizza, and we’ll be fine,” I said with more confidence than I felt.

Poppy and I went into the living room, where it was warm like the kitchen not cold like the hallway and a squeak of alarm from my stepsister was the first thing that alerted me to the fact that something was wrong. I looked across and noticed that one of the armchairs was turned upside down. If we were American and lived in California close to the San Andreas Fault this might have made a bit of sense, but the chances of encountering an earthquake in Essex were very remote indeed. And an earthquake would not simply tip over one chair.

I righted the chair and looked at the clear expression of fear on Poppy’s pretty face. “Come on Poppy, it will be okay.”

“It’s going to be a bad night, I just know it,” Poppy lamented. My stepsister sounded close to crying.

I again tried to reassure her. “Maybe this is the only thing they are going to do today, and they’ll have a break from bothering us? Anyway, let’s watch TV and enjoy this pizza before it gets cold.”

Poppy’s big brown eyes looked fearfully around the living room as she sat down next to me on the couch. She was very on edge at first, but relaxed as nothing weird happened and we enjoyed the pizza as we watched first an Australian soap opera, then the video we had hired from the shop.

By the time the movie was finished it was late, and time for bed. Poppy and I tidied up downstairs, then turned off the lights and headed upstairs. I hoped nothing supernatural would happen tonight, and no doubt Poppy was thinking the same thing. Poppy climbed the stairs before me, and thanks to her short pleated skirt, I was unable to prevent getting a couple of glimpses of the white knickers that Poppy was wearing. My conscience reminded me not to look up any girl’s skirt, much less my own stepsister’s skirt, but I was unable to stop myself getting pleasure from seeing Poppy’s panties.

“I need to go to the toilet, and is it okay if I take my shower first?” Poppy asked.

“Sure Poppy it’s fine with me,” I said.

“Thanks Brett,” said Poppy. I walked to my bedroom as Poppy turned on the bathroom light and closed and locked the bathroom door behind herself.

It was quiet upstairs so I could hear Poppy putting down the toilet seat something that wasn’t out of place, but Poppy’s scream a couple of seconds later had me on edge. I ran out my room for the bathroom as Poppy burst out, clearly frightened and in distressed.

“Poppy, what happened?” I asked anxiously.

“I was about to go to the loo, and something reached under my skirt and touched my knickers, and then it flicked my bra strap!” Poppy exclaimed. She looked at me, her big brown eyes wide and terrified. “I really need to go to the toilet.”

“How about you use the ensuite bathroom?” I suggested.

Poppy shook her head. “It will just follow me in there too.” She looked at me, then burst into tears. “All I want to do is go to the loo, and I can’t because the ghosts keep bothering me. I hate this house, I’m so scared all the time, I wish we’d never moved here.”

I watched as my stepsister stood helplessly in front of me, her body wracked by sobbing. I reached into my jeans pocket and took out some clean tissues, handing them to Poppy, and holding my stepsister as she cried. “Hey Poppy, it’s okay,” I tried to assure her.

“It’s not okay,” lamented Poppy, tears running down her pretty face. “I’ve have to go to the toilet really badly, but if I go in there the ghosts are going to get me again. I just know it.”

I was thinking of something to say that would relax Poppy so she could return to the bathroom and go to the toilet, but the ghosts were not cooperative, not that they ever were. From the darkened downstairs there came a knocking on the front door, but it was clear that the sound was coming from inside the house, rather than outside. Then within a split second, the sound moved to the back door, and the same banging sound was audible. This of course frightened poor Poppy even more, and I could see from her body posture that her need to use the loo was increasing by each second that passed.

“Poppy, what about you give it another try now?” I suggested.

Poppy wiped away the last of her tears and blew her nose. She looked at the bathroom, regarding it with fear, and probably with good reason given what had happened in there tonight and in the past. She looked at me, clearly nervous then said, “Brett, maybe you could come in there with me?”

Now it was my turn to be afraid, or at least uncomfortable. “Um Poppy, I don’t know, I really don’t think that’s a good idea, I don’t like it.”

“I don’t like it either,” Poppy protested. “But I have to go the loo or have a nasty accident, and I don’t want the ghosts scaring me. If you’re in the bathroom with me, perhaps they won’t bother me. At least I won’t be as scared with you there.”

“Poppy, I’m not really sure about this,” I said. “Me in the bathroom with you while you’re using the toilet? It’s kind of inappropriate.”

“I wasn’t thinking of you standing right there next to me while I’m on the loo,” said Poppy. “But if you went into the shower and waited in there while I go to the toilet, then you can’t see anything.”

“As long as you’re sure.” I was anything but sure about this, but Poppy was the one in an emergency situation here.

“I’m sure, I really have to go,” said Poppy. I could see by her posture that she was not exaggerating, so nodded in agreement.

She led the way into the bathroom, me feeling even more weird about this than having lived in a haunted house for the past 15 months, but as Poppy closed and locked the bathroom door she attempted to relax us both by saying, “At least this wasn’t last week.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“I had my period last week, so this would have been like ten times more embarrassing for both of us,” said Poppy.

I blushed. “Sorry Poppy, I didn’t know.”

“Well, I don’t wear a tee-shirt or hat to advertise when I’ve got my period,” said Poppy. She turned towards the toilet and jumped in surprise, fear on her face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“The seat is up.” Poppy pointed at the toilet.

“Sorry Poppy, I’ll remember to put it down next time,” I said.

Poppy shook her head. “No, I don’t mean that. I mean I put the toilet seat down the first time I came in here, and now someone or something has put it up again.” The teenager shook her head. “Anyway, I can’t really worry about that now. I need to, um, you know.” She massaged her tummy.

I could see my stepsister’s desperation. “I’ll get in the shower and leave you to have some privacy, Poppy.”

“Thanks Brett,” said Poppy.

I stepped into the shower, but was unable to prevent a glimpse out of the corner of my eye of Poppy lifting her pleated skirt and pulling her white knickers down to her ankles to sit on the toilet. Closing the shower door, I stood in the recess thinking that this was something I could never have anticipated happening today, or indeed any other day. Hiding in a shower while my stepsister was sitting on the loo, could it be any weirder?

The sound of Poppy urinating soon filled the bathroom, the splashing tinkling sounds echoing from the toilet bowl as her pee stream exited her urethra and went into the water. I tried to tell myself it was raining outside, it was just water flowing through the gutters and down the drainpipe, but I knew very well what it was. It wasn’t the first time I had heard Poppy pissing, I had passed the bathroom before when she was urinating on the toilet and I had heard this in the quiet of the house, but being in the bathroom with her while she was doing this was a whole different ball game.

Poppy’s piss finally abated, and I heard Poppy unwinding and rustling toilet paper presumably to wipe the residual urine away from her pussy. If I felt uncomfortable about being in the bathroom while Poppy had a pee, it was just a mere taste of what was to come.

I felt so guilty, like I was doing something wrong, as I continued to stand in the shower recess, hearing every sound of Poppy pooing on the toilet, the sounds from the toilet bowl each time she moved her bowels and Poppy unwinding toilet paper every time she wiped her bottom. I felt like I was a voyeur, like I had come in here to perve on Poppy while she was having her poo, but of course I had not done this to engage in voyeurism. I had done it at Poppy’s request because she was scared of poltergeist activity in the bathroom while she was sitting on the loo, and wanted me there to try and stop any supernatural harassment.

It didn’t make me feel any better. I wished that Poppy hadn’t given a practical demonstration that the answer to the question ‘Do pretty girls fart?’ was yes, well at least they did when they were using the loo.

As I heard Poppy advancing the toilet roll and getting herself more toilet tissue, I reminded myself that while this was embarrassing for me, it would be far worse for poor Poppy, forced to sit on the toilet with her skirt around her waist and her knickers around her ankles and have a shit with her stepbrother standing in the shower, and able to hear everything she was doing, even her wiping her bottom.

I wasn’t sure how long Poppy was on the toilet, it seemed like five to seven hours but of course it was probably somewhere between five and seven minutes. Finally, I heard Poppy unwinding loo paper three times in a row and I presumed she might be done. This was confirmed a few seconds later when I heard Poppy put down the toilet lid then I heard her flush the toilet, the sound of the toilet cistern refilling going through the bathroom.

I heard Poppy turn on the taps in the sink. “I’m finished now Brett, you can come out,” she called.

I emerged from the shower and could see Poppy washing her hands, before she turned off the taps and dried her hands on a towel. Obviously Poppy had pulled her knickers up after she finished on the toilet, but they were clearly uncomfortable, as I saw Poppy adjust them through her pleated skirt.

“That was um, really embarrassing,” said Poppy shyly. “Please don’t tell anyone about this Brett.”

“Way ahead of you there, Poppy,” I assured my stepsister. No way was I ever going to tell another living soul about this.

I didn’t want to embarrass the poor girl any further, so had to act completely neutral and not react to the smell Poppy had left behind herself when she went to the toilet. The smell of Poppy’s feces was not overwhelmingly bad, but it was obvious to anyone who went into the bathroom that she had just emptied her bowels.

“Well at least nothing strange happened,” I said. “So do you think you’ll be able to go for a shower on your own?”

Poppy looked apprehensive. “Well, I can give it a try. But could you please stand outside the bathroom door while I’m in there?”

“No problems at all Poppy,” I said.

“I just need to get my sleep shirt and some clean knickers,” said Poppy, quickly running into her bedroom and returning with an oversized tee-shirt and some fresh knickers.

Poppy made no attempt to hide her new knickers from me so I could see that the panties she would be wearing to bed tonight were pretty white full brief panties with a myriad of different colored flowers on them. There were roses, violets, daisies, daffodils, irises, pansies and appropriately given the name of the owner of the knickers, poppies as well.

I had seen Poppy wear this over-sized tee-shirt before, and I thought it was so cute, white in color with a big anthropomorphic cartoon frog on the front. It looked pretty good when she was wearing it with her long bare legs and her bare feet on display.

“Promise me you’ll stay outside the whole time?” Poppy implored me.

“I promise,” I said.

I stood guard outside the bathroom door as Poppy locked and closed it behind herself. However, it was less than ten seconds before I heard Poppy scream, and the door flung open with Poppy running out of the bathroom at great speed, a look of terror etched on her pretty face, the teenager adjusting her underpants through her pleated skirt.

“Poppy what’s wrong, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” I said, hoping that the little joke might relax her a bit. My joke did not relax Poppy, in fact it had the opposite effect.

“That’s not funny Brett,” complained the distressed Poppy. “I was about to get undressed, I’d just taken off my jumper when something reached under my skirt and pulled my knickers down to my knees! I’m so scared, Brett.”

Again, Poppy looked like she was about cry, and I put my hand on my stepsister’s shoulder to try and calm her down. I felt pretty bad about my joke now. “Sorry Poppy, I didn’t know.”

“That’s okay Brett, you didn’t set out to frighten me,” said Poppy. She looked through the bathroom door. “But what am I going to do now? I really need a shower.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait until morning?” I asked.

“No, I really want to have a shower tonight,” said Poppy. “And if the ghosts don’t get me in there tonight, they will get me tomorrow morning, I just know it.”

I was out of ideas. “Sorry Poppy, I don’t know what to suggest.”

Poppy stood thinking about a solution to her problem and then she looked at me, clearly shy and nervous before she spoke. “You said earlier that you needed to take a shower too. I don’t know, what if we both um, you know, had a shower together.”

I was shocked. “What? Both of us? In the shower together?”

Poppy regarded me with her big brown eyes. “I know it sounds really weird and normally I wouldn’t like the idea, but I’m so scared that I’d prefer you in the shower with me so the ghosts don’t bother me. They didn’t get me while I was on the loo and you were in the bathroom, it might be the same if we had a shower together.”

“I don’t know about that Poppy,” I said, my heart racing. “We’re stepbrother and stepsister, it would be awkward and inappropriate. We’d um, be naked in front of each other.”

“I don’t like it any more than you do Brett,” said Poppy. “But we’d both be naked, so it wouldn’t be as bad. And you know how they say that if you’re making a speech to imagine your audience naked? We just have to pretend that we’re fully clothed.”

The good side of my brain told me this was wrong, showering with my nude stepsister, but the bad side was telling me how great this was going to be, I was going to see pretty Poppy naked and in the shower. I had seen her pull her panties down when she sat down on the toilet earlier, but this was different, this would be sexy. But Poppy was scared, what else was I going to do?

Eventually, I said nothing more at all. “Okay then, I’ll just get my boxer shorts.”

I retrieved a pair of boxer shorts from my bedroom and with a heart rate so high that I thought I might be a rare case of an 18-year-old man dying from a heart attack went with Poppy into the bathroom, Poppy closing and locking the door behind us like she had done when she went to the toilet.

My conscience reprimanded me for getting excited about the prospect of seeing Poppy in her bra and her panties then completely naked, reminding me that it was inappropriate but still I could not help it. I removed my sneakers and socks as Poppy sat on the small bench next to the shower and did the same.

I could see up Poppy’s pleated skirt and her white knickers as she took off first her white sneakers and then her white ankle socks, leaving her barefoot. As I took off my tee-shirt and jeans leaving me wearing a pair of red underpants, Poppy likewise took off her own tee-shirt then unclasped and removed her pleated skirt leaving her wearing a white bra and white panties, her underwear contrasting nicely with her mocha-colored Middle Eastern skin.

‘Don’t get an erection Brett, whatever you do don’t get an erection,’ I told myself over and over again as I looked at Poppy barefoot in her bra and knickers. Somehow I managed this, but it wasn’t easy as Poppy reached behind herself and unclasped her bra. Poppy removed the undergarment, freeing her wonderful big teenage tits.

Things only got worse as Poppy took hold of her white full-brief panties and pulled them down her long legs, stepping her bare feet out of them. I could distinctly see the creamy colored stains left on the double cotton saddle of Poppy’s knickers caused by her vagina self-cleansing during the day. The bad part of my brain began thinking about how good it would to be sniff Poppy’s feminine smells on her dirty knickers, and again I had to fight to keep from getting an erection.

I was now naked like Poppy, but while she seemed completely relaxed I was anything but. I tried to keep from staring at Poppy’s wonderful young boobs, and from my eyes going to her crotch and checking out her pubic hair. And there was plenty of pubic hair to check out. Young Poppy sported a massive bush, dark curls of pubic hair all over her feminine mound, resembling not so much a forest but a jungle.

Thinking about sad movies was helping to keep an erection at bay, but it got even more difficult when Poppy turned around and opened the screen to the shower and I saw her bare bottom, her plump, peach-shaped cheeks with her dark skin looking so inviting. If there was a girl whose bum got an A-plus, then it was Poppy’s bum.

Poppy turned on the shower then turned back to face me, me looking past her and at the bathroom wall to try and make it not too obvious to my stepsister that I was looking at her massive tits and her triangle of dark pubic hair.

“Remember, we’re fully clothed Brett,” said Poppy, not seeming fazed at all by the fact that we were both completely naked and about to shower together.

“Fully clothed, got it Poppy,” I said.

“You look worried Brett,” laughed Poppy. “Again, just think about how much worse this would be for both of us if I was on my period like last week.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. While it would have been awkward at best for me to shower with Poppy while she was menstruating, at least it might have helped in my losing battle to stop getting a hard on.

Poppy stepped her bare feet into the shower recess, and I followed her in there, closing the door behind ourselves. My battle to stop myself from getting an erection was completely lost as Poppy immersed herself under the showerhead, got the soap and began to lather herself up.

Although Poppy and I obviously did not touch each other while we were showering, being in such a tight confined space and naked up went my cock despite my horror and soon I sported a full-on erection. Watching Poppy shower, her beautiful dark skin, her bare breasts and her bum lathered up with white soap looked so hot especially as soapy water ran down her long legs to her bare feet. My dick throbbed as I watched Poppy washing her pussy, her dark bush of pubes saturated and filled with soap and bubbles.

I was terrified about how Poppy would react to my erection, she had to have seen it, would she freak? But Poppy said nothing, just continued to wash her fanny like I wasn’t there. She was certainly fastidious about having a clean vagina that was for sure.

Again, I tried to cool myself down and thought once more about what things would have been like if this had been last week when it was Poppy’s time of the month. Seeing Poppy’s sanitary pad with blood stains on it, menstrual blood running down my stepsister’s legs and dripping directly onto the shower floor from her vulva, imagining this should have put an instant end to my erection, and prevented me from getting another one for at least a week. Unfortunately thinking about Poppy’s periods made me think about Poppy’s vagina, and thinking about Poppy’s pussy sent more blood to my groin.

I reminded myself that the area between Poppy’s legs was completely off-limits to me, and that my erection was therefore a waste of time, I couldn’t do anything with it, but still my cock throbbed. Even looking at the shower floor didn’t help, because I could see Poppy’s pretty bare feet.

Still seemingly oblivious to my excitement, Poppy asked me casually, “Brett, could you please pass me the soap?”

“Sure Poppy,” I said, passing her the bar.

“Thanks Brett,” said Poppy. She took the soap in her hand, but it slipped out of her wet fingers and onto the shower floor.

“Oops,” said Poppy, immediately turning over to pick it up.

While it was difficult to control my excitement before, it was now impossible as Poppy’s tall figure was now bent over, her arse thrust high in the air, her fanny close to my face. Through wide eyes I could see between Poppy’s legs, and how her bright pink pussy visible through all her pubic hair contrasted with her dark skin. Poppy’s vagina was long and slim, with perfect symmetry to her oval-shaped fanny flaps.

Poppy’s genitals were a wonderful sight indeed, and as an added bonus Poppy’s bum cheeks had parted and I had a view of her tight, star-fish shaped anus. The opening to her bowels like her vagina was bright pink in color, again contrasting with the rest of her skin. Even the skin that separated Poppy’s front bottom from her back bottom was the same mocha, Middle-Eastern skin tone over the rest of her body.

I was worried my dick might lose control completely and I would ejaculate everywhere, and given the confined space of the shower possibly all over my nude stepsister. But fortunately the sight of Poppy bent over with her bum thrust in the air didn’t last long as she straightened up having retrieved her soap. However, what Poppy did with the soap -washing herself between the cheeks of her bare bottom – did not cool my ardor, it only made it worse as I saw Poppy’s fingers touching her private anal area.

Poppy and I rinsed off, then I turned off the shower as we stepped out and took towels to dry off before bed. My cock certainly seemed to appreciate the sight of Poppy drying herself between her legs and removing the residual water from her bush. Poppy looked directly at me as she did this, she would have had to have seen my erection, but said nothing at all.

Did she not notice, or did see my erection and did not interpret it as me being turned on by seeing her naked? I knew Poppy was naïve, but this seemed too much even for her.

I certainly enjoyed watching Poppy take her clean, flowery white full brief panties, step her bare feet into them and pull them up, adjusting the knickers around her box and her bum so they were nice and comfortable. As Poppy put on her over-sized tee-shirt with the cute cartoon frog on the front her tits and her knickers were now obscured before, and as I joined Poppy at the sink to brush our teeth the bulge in my boxer shorts went from resembling a marquee to a standard tent, then subsided altogether as we cleaned up and exited the bathroom, placing our underwear into our respective clothes hampers and putting away our other clothes.

Everything seemed normal enough, so I said to Poppy, “Will you be okay to go to bed now, Poppy?”

Before my stepsister could answer, we could hear footsteps coming up the stairs and the light in my bedroom turned off on its own. More un-nerving, Poppy and I both caught sight of a shadow like figure against the wall. It was ill-defined and we only saw it for less than a second, but it was enough to terrify Poppy, and to be honest me too.

“Brett, can you please sleep in my room tonight?” Poppy pleaded, her big brown eyes full of fear. “Sometimes the ghosts bother me in bed at night, they pull back my covers, pull at my hair and even touch my feet. If you’re in there with me, they might not get me.”

I nodded. “Sure Poppy, I guess I can sleep in your chair or get a mattress and sleep on the floor if it stops you being scared at night.”

There came the sound of something moving around in the attic, the eerie noises audible just above our heads on the ceiling and Poppy looked increasingly scared.

“Actually Brett, could you please sleep in my bed with me?” Poppy pleaded, her eyes wide. “It would make me feel much safer.”

Again, it was something that my bad side really wanted to do, but which my good side told me was inappropriate. Like being in the bathroom when my stepsister went to the loo, and actually showering with her.

I shook my head. “I don’t know about that Poppy, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Please Brett,” Poppy pleaded, tears beginning to well in her eyes as the eerie noises continued in the attic. “All we’ll be doing is sleeping in the same bed, nothing else.”

“Okay then, if it will make you feel less scared,” I said reassuringly.

“It will,” said Poppy.

I turned off the remaining lights, collected my wallet and keys from my room so they had less chance of being moved by sticky-fingered ghosts during the night and now the only light illuminated was Poppy’s bedside reading lamp. I put my wallet and keys on the bedside table, and Poppy swung her bare feet into bed, me seeing her knickers as she did so.

Climbing into bed beside my stepsister was something I thought I would never do, and I reminded myself that I was just doing it to reassure Poppy and make her feel safer so she could sleep during the night.

Poppy’s bed was a single bed, and Poppy and I were both tall young adults, so it was a bit tight sharing the bed together. I felt one of Poppy’s bare feet against my lower leg, and again it caused a reaction in my groin. Once again, I told myself to behave as my erection began to rise.

In the hallway outside, we again heard the eerie phantom footsteps on the floorboards and Poppy looked at me appreciatively. “Thanks again for everything this evening Brett. You helping me when I was scared is so kind of you.”

“Please Poppy, it’s the least I could do,” I said.

“You’ve always been so nice to me Brett,” said Poppy, regarding me with her innocent big brown eyes. “Ever since we were kids, you always used to stand up for me against bullies and people who were mean to me.”

“Well, I like you Poppy, you’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”

“That’s so sweet, I really like you too Brett.” Poppy smiled, but then her pretty face fell and she looked a little upset. “I just wish your Dad and your brother liked me too.”

“Oh, they like you too Poppy, they just have different ways of showing it,” I tried to reassure my naïve stepsister.

There was no fooling Poppy this time today, however. “Your Dad always seems very short with me. And Simon can’t stand to be around me. I know they like Mum and Jacob and even my Dad, it’s just me they don’t like.”

“It’s just their way, I wouldn’t let it worry you,” I said to Poppy, feeling her young body up against mind and more blood going to my groin as Poppy’s bare feet touched my own under the covers.

“Well, at least you like me Brett,” said Poppy. Her face then took on a mixture of emotions – amusement, excitement, nervousness and unless I was mistaken seductive – and she said, “Sometimes I think you really, really like me.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I blushed. “No Poppy, no I don’t like you in that way, I wouldn’t …”

Poppy put a look of fake surprise on her face. “Really? So I’m mistaken when I’ve seen you checking me out when I go past or looking upstairs when I go up wearing a skirt? And you were really excited when we were in the shower earlier. You had an erection. A really big erection.” Poppy giggled.

“I thought you didn’t notice that!” I exclaimed, feeling most displayed.

Poppy giggled again. “Of course I noticed Brett. I couldn’t miss it, I’m not blind. Mum is always telling me off for being naïve and maybe she’s right sometimes, but what you just said then, if there was a naïve award for England in 1992 you would win it not me.”

“You never said anything when we were in the bathroom,” I said.

“Of course I didn’t, I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

“I’m really sorry Poppy, I didn’t mean to get an erection over you, it won’t happen again,” I said.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” said Poppy. “I’m okay with it, you were naked, I was naked, we were in the shower together, its a natural reaction. And in fact, I’m better than okay with it. I liked it. I really liked it. It made me so horny in the shower, knowing that I was the one who caused you to have an erection.”

“Really, I didn’t notice,” I said.

Poppy again got a fit of the giggles. “Of course you didn’t, silly. I’m a girl, you can’t see when I’m excited. But in the shower with you, between my legs I was getting so wet it felt like it does when I’ve got my period. You know what else? If you looked down my knickers right now you would see that I’m getting wet again. And I bet if I felt the front of your shorts you would be excited too.”

Before I could do or say anything more, Poppy’s right hand was at my groin, feeling my big boner through the soft fabric of my boxer shorts. “Oh yes, you’re excited.”

Poppy and I looked at each other, and without saying anything more we began to kiss. We were nervous at first, kissing shallowly on the lips, but soon we began to kiss more deeply, French-kissing with passion. I could taste Poppy’s peppermint mouthwash as our tongues intertwined. We embraced, I could feel Poppy’s hands running down my back and I did the same with her, unable to resist putting one hand under Poppy’s over-sized tee-shirt and touching the soft cotton fabric of her teen panties.

Her stepbrother touching her knickers did not bother Poppy at all, in fact it turned her on all the more. She kissed me more passionately, and we embraced tighter, me feeling Poppy’s bare toes tickling my feet. As my erection brushed against her thigh, Poppy giggled her girlish excitement, clearly anticipating what was to come.

As we continued making out, Poppy kicked off the bed covers so were now completely exposed and I could see her knickers up her cartoon frog tee-shirt. Needing to get some air, we stopped making out and separated from each other, Poppy sitting with her knees apart shamelessly showing off her knickers to me.

Poppy was very interested in the tent in my boxer shorts, and removed her tee-shirt, leaving her barefoot and naked apart from her white floral full-brief knickers. She indicated my erection. “Now I get to play with what I dream about playing with all the time.”

“You wanted to do this before tonight?” I said, somewhat surprised.

“Of course, you’re a handsome guy Brett, I really want to play with your cock and suck it, and when I dream about it I wake up with wet knickers in the morning,” my topless stepsister said. “Now, how about you lie back and relax as I make my dreams – and probably your dreams by the way you look at me – come to life?”

No way was I going to debate this issue with Poppy, and soon my stepsister’s eager hands were on my boxer shorts and removing them. I was now completely naked, sporting a massive hard on, which my stepsister regarded with her big brown eyes.

Poppy reached out for my erection and took it in her eager young hands. She teased my cock, playing with it in her fingers, tickling my balls with the other hand. Eventually her hand took a firm hold of my shaft and she began to jerk me off.

My stepsister giving me manual relief was like heaven and I was worried that I might lose control and ejaculate all over her hand, but Poppy soon changed her focus. She straddled me, one bare foot on each side of my torso, then lowered her knicker-covered bum down into my face as she leaned forward and took my dick in her mouth.

I could feel Poppy teasing the head of my penis with her tongue before she went down properly, sucking my cock with her eager enthusiasm. Fuck that felt good, and even better was having Poppy’s bum in my face as she gave me a head-job. I could smell Poppy’s young pussy through the cotton knickers she wore, and I had to remind myself not to cum in my stepsister’s mouth as she gave me fellatio, I had to keep it in reserve for later.

After about five wonderful minutes of my stepsister sucking my dick, Poppy withdrew her mouth from my penis and smiled at me.

“Did you like that Brett?” she asked, her mischievous giggle in her voice.

“I sure did,” I said, indicating my erection.

“Yeah, that’s a bit of a giveaway,” Poppy agreed. “So Brett, do you want to get into my knickers?”

“If I said no, would you believe me?”

Poppy shook her head. “No.” She knelt on the bed next to me, making her knickers available to me. With trembling hands, I reached out and took her panty waistband, pulling it out and looking down my stepsister’s knicker, perving at her pubes.

Poppy giggled. “I’m a bit hairy down there.”

“Hairy girls are hotter,” I said, to which Poppy giggled again.

My conscience tried to butt in and tell me it was wrong to put my hand down the front of my stepsister’s pants, but I ignored it and slid my hand into Poppy’s knickers. My fingers went through the forest of dark curly pubic hair over her mound, then I went deeper into her crotch.

My fingers soon found Poppy’s wet and sticky vulva, clearly she was turned on. Using my index finger, I traversed Poppy’s twat, feeling her feminine wetness grow at my touch. Pushing deeper into Poppy’s vagina, I found her clitoris and my stepsister squealed in delight as I touched her there, her bare toes clenching.

“That feels so good!” she exclaimed, as I decided to put my other hand to good use, sliding it down the back panel of Poppy’s knickers and fondling her bum. My fingers went deeper into the back of Poppy’s panties, and between the cheeks of her bottom, eventually making contact with her tight anus.

Poppy squirmed at the touch to the opening to her bowels, looking surprised.

“You don’t like that?” I asked.

“No, it’s great, just please don’t put your fingers up into my rectum, it’s a bit personal for me,” said Poppy.

“Okay, I won’t do anything you don’t like,” I assured Poppy.

With one hand fingering Poppy’s front bottom and the other her back bottom, my stepsister was getting wetter and wetter between her legs and the inevitable was now here. I withdrew my hands from Poppy’s genitals, my fingers covered in my stepsister’s sticky pussy juice, the musty feminine odor of vagina driving me wild.

Poppy let out a shy, coy and nervous giggle as I took off her knickers, and I now admired my stepsister in her full nudity. Her pretty Middle-Eastern looks and fine figure were a sight to behold as I anticipated fucking her properly.

Poppy sat with her legs open showing her vagina too me, when both of us paused at the same moment, the same concern crossing both our minds. We were about to have sex, but Poppy was not on the pill nor was I wearing a condom. Each of us knew what the other was thinking. However, the solution was an easy fix.

“Don’t worry Poppy, I’ve got this covered,” I assured my stepsister, reaching into my wallet and from a compartment removing a condom, which I unwrapped.

I had thought how bad it would be if I got into bed with a pretty girl who let me into her knickers but we had no protection, so kept this condom just in case. I never anticipated the pretty girl would be my own stepsister, but this was the reality.

Poppy looked impressed as I put the condom onto my erection. “You’re well prepared Brett and you weren’t even a boy scout growing up.”

I joined my stepsister on the bed, and again we made out, this time my roaming hands fondling Poppy’s massive young breasts, stroking her pubic hair and caressing her bare bottom. Poppy in turn teased my condom-covered cock, until she rolled onto her back, opened her knees and spread her legs wide, making herself available to me.

My mouth watered as I took in the wonderful sights between Poppy’s legs; her dark pubic hair, her pretty pink vagina and just below this her pink rosebud-like anus. I climbed atop of my stepsister and mounted her in missionary position, before sliding my cock up into the tight confines of her young pussy, Poppy breathing heavily as I filled her.

As I got comfortable inside my stepsister I could feel how hot she was even through the rubber of the condom. I leaned forward, the curls of hair on my chest tickling Poppy’s nipples and we kissed, before I pushed deeper into her, Poppy gasping and her bare toes clenching the sheet.

I ground my cock in Poppy’s pussy, withdrew slightly then pushed up deep inside her again, me feeling how wet my stepsister was getting down there, and the look of delight on her pretty face showed how much she was enjoying it. The smell of Poppy’s aroused vagina in the bedroom added to the pleasure.

Some people have natural sexual chemistry, others do not and despite being stepsiblings, Poppy and I fell into the former category. Sometimes we fucked slow and sexual, me deep inside Poppy and pushing against her cervix, both of us kissing and caressing, Poppy’s big boobies against my chest. Poppy would put her long legs to good use, wrapping them tight around my torso, rubbing her pretty bare feet against my back.

Other times we went hard and fast, fucking like a pair of rabbits, Poppy thrusting her pussy forward as I pushed my dick up hard into her cunt, a very wet and sticky Poppy moaning as she writhed on her back, her pubic hair intertwining with mine during coitus, Poppy’s fabulous teenage tits bouncing up and down.

I could not accurately say how long Poppy and I were fucking in the missionary position. I think it was some 10 or 15 minutes, and the best 10 to 15 minutes of my life to date before Poppy went rigid, her face contorted and her bare toes clenched tight.

“Yes!” Poppy screeched as she reached her climax, me thinking about how the muscles in her twat and her arsehole were tightening as she had her orgasm, my groin soaked by the flow of girl cum from Poppy’s pussy.

Already close to orgasm myself at that stage, I reached my own climax as Poppy gasped underneath me, blushing and breathing hard. I felt my testicles tighten, my muscles go stiff and the sensations and smells of Poppy’s orgasm sent me over the edge. Deep inside my stepsister’s vagina I reached my climax, my cock ejaculated what felt like a tsunami of cum into the condom. This was important, as it prevented my semen from spraying up Poppy’s birth canal, swimming up her uterus and fallopian tubes and possibly finding an ova released by one of Poppy’s ovaries as part of her next monthly womanly cycle. Knocking up Poppy was something that should definitely be avoided.

I withdrew my cock from Poppy’s pussy and we lay together naked on the bed, kissing and caressing each other and stroking our nude bodies as we recovered our breaths. As we lay naked holding hands, Poppy said to me, “I bet that’s not how you imagined tonight to turn out, Brett.”

“You’ve got that right, Poppy,” I said. It was 100 percent accurate. This morning I had no possible way of knowing that I would fuck my own stepsister this night, or indeed any other night.

“That was awesome,” said Poppy.

“You’re the one who made it awesome Poppy,” I said. How could I have ever dreamed that my nervous and naïve stepsister would be such a natural in bed?

It was getting very close to midnight and Poppy and I had to go to our part time jobs tomorrow morning, so it was definitely time for sleep now.

I watched with wide eyes and growing arousal as Poppy climbed off the bed, took a large handful of tissues, put them between her legs and used them to clean her fanny, before disposing of the sticky, used tissues covered with her pussy juice into her small bin. I likewise removed and disposed of the condom and cleaned the residual semen from my cock.

Poppy put on her knickers and then her tee-shirt, and I put on my boxer shorts and we lay in bed, exchanging a goodnight kiss and cuddle before we turned out the light and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

xxxxx

When I awoke on Saturday morning, Poppy was still asleep and I needed to pee. I got out of bed without waking her, walked across to the bathroom, lifted the toilet seat and had a pee. Finishing and flushing the toilet, I returned to my stepsister’s bedroom and found Poppy was now awake.

Poppy smiled and put a pretty and mischievous look on her attractive face. “Morning Brett. Guess what? I’ve been dreaming about you.”

I smiled in response, my cock stirring in my boxer shorts. “And what were you dreaming about Poppy?”

Poppy put on a look of mock innocence. “That you were smelling my knickers and then we did 69. It made me wake up with damp panties.”

I laughed. “Do you want to turn the dream into reality Poppy?”

“Oh I think so.” Poppy reached under the bed covers and I could tell she was taking her knickers off, something confirmed a few seconds later when her hand emerged with her panties in them. “Here we are.”

I took hold of my stepsister’s knickers, seeing the pussy stains on the double cotton saddle, along with one of Poppy’s pubes that had come away in the night. I wasted no time in putting Poppy’s undies to my nose, absorbing all the musty feminine smells from her vagina, my cock now standing at 90 degrees.

In the bed, Poppy was clearly masturbating under the covers as she watched me smelling her knickers, this confirmed a minute or so later when the commando Poppy pulled back the covers to show me the wonderful view of her naked pussy up her nightwear, several of her fingers up her pussy as she pleasured her clit.

I took off my boxers to free my erection and Poppy took off her shirt and we were soon in the same position a stepbrother and stepsister should never be, naked in bed and about to perform sex acts upon each other.

Looking forward to eating out Poppy’s cunt as she sucked my cock, I lay back on the bed and Poppy straddled my head, before lowering her fanny down and sitting on my face. Poppy’s pubic hair tickled my nose and her wonderful girly smell entered my nostrils. This was the great thing about Poppy sporting such a full bush, her pubes trapped her feminine smells between her legs.

Poppy leaned forward and took my dick in her mouth, giving me a wonderful head job as I inserted my tongue deep into her vagina, eating out my stepsister as she fellated me. Poppy’s pussy juice entered my mouth, and I greedily drank every drop. Poppy writhed on my face as I licked her clit nice and hard, and the smells of her vagina got hotter with each second.

As was the night before, Poppy reach her orgasm first, the writhing teenager’s twat sending sticky girl cum into my mouth which I drank with pleasure. Lapping up more cunt juice from Poppy’s labia sent me wild, and Poppy’s tongue working my shaft as she moved her mouth back and forward did the rest.

I ejaculated sticky white cum into Poppy’s mouth, my stepsister lapping it up and swallowing it. Poppy got up from me and we kissed deep, me able to taste my own cum on Poppy’s mouth, and Poppy presumably tasting her own pussy in this process.

“I was thinking we might have a bath together this morning,” suggested Poppy. “We still have plenty of time before we need to leave for work.”

“Sounds hot,” I said.

Possibly it was just habit, but for some reason Poppy and I both put on our nightwear – Poppy her tee-shirt and knickers and me my boxer shorts – to walk across the hallway to the bathroom.

“I just need to go to the toilet first,” said Poppy, before she stopped short.

“The toilet seat is up, it was down last night,” she said, looking concerned.

“Actually, that was me Poppy, I forgot to put the seat back down,” I admitted.

“But you didn’t take all the loo paper, did you?” The concerned Poppy indicated the toilet roll holder which had no roll at all, and also that the spare loo roll was missing from the cistern.

“There was toilet paper when I came in here earlier,” I remarked, then noticed that both the spare roll and the half-used toilet roll were on the top of the shower wall adjacent to the toilet. “Look there it is.”

I retrieved the toilet rolls and handed them to Poppy and prepared to leave her in privacy, but given that something out of this world was clearly responsible for this minor but irritating prank Poppy was apprehensive about using the loo on her own.

“Brett, can you please wait in the shower like you did last night?” Poppy pleaded as she put the spare toilet roll on the cistern and returned the half used one to the roll holder. “The ghosts sometimes snatch loo roll out of my hand when I’m trying to go to the toilet, and it scares me. Obviously they’ve been in here this morning.”

“Okay Poppy,” I agreed, closing and locking the bathroom door and making my way to the shower recess, catching a glance of Poppy pulling her knickers down to her ankles and her bare feet after putting down the seat, then sitting down on the toilet.

Inside the shower recess, it was kind of like de ja vu from the previous night. I first heard Poppy peeing, then having her poo, the teenager unwinding and using toilet paper intermittently. As was the case last night, Poppy was on the toilet about five to seven minutes before she finished and flushed it, me emerging as she was washing her hands and again having to pretend I didn’t notice Poppy’s toilet smell.

“Thanks Brett, at least the ghosts didn’t try to take my toilet paper away from me with you in here,” said Poppy as she ran the bath, putting in plenty of bubble-bath.

When the bath was full of warm water and bubble bath Poppy and I both undressed. I stepped in first and sat down, then Poppy joined me, sitting down on my lap, immediately feeling my erection against her bum.

“I’d better be careful where I sit, I don’t want to end up pregnant,” Poppy giggled.

The bathtub was a big one, plenty of room for us to stretch out and this we did, lying against each other, Poppy teasing my cock through the suds and bubbles, me soaping up and washing and caressing Poppy’s big boobs.

Our bath finished Poppy and I got out, drained the water and dried off, both of us brushing our teeth in the nude before I took a quick shave and Poppy and I returned to the bedroom to get ready for work.

I hastily grabbed my work supermarket uniform and dressed in Poppy’s bedroom as she put on her make-up while sitting naked in front of her mirror, then it was her turn to dress. Feeling like a voyeur, I watched Poppy get some clean knickers – this time pink full brief panties – and put them on, followed by a matching pink bra.

However, instead of reaching for her work uniform Poppy took out instead a pink tee-shirt, denim jacket and her blue denim patched jeans.

“Poppy, aren’t you going to work today, where’s your uniform?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s free dress today, for charity,” said Poppy as she put on her tee-shirt, then pulled up her patched jeans with cute stickers mainly of cartoon animals on them.

I wasn’t complaining. Poppy’s round bum looked so good in her patched jeans, and this morning was no exception. Poppy completed her outfit by tying her long hair back with a pink scrunchie, then she put on white socks and sneakers before her denim jacket. She looked so hot, I couldn’t believe that we had fucked last night and done 69 this morning, followed by a bath together.

We went down to the kitchen to find that the poltergeists had been busy during the night while we were enjoying ourselves upstairs. Kitchen cupboard doors were open, the kitchen bin up-ended, the wall clock was running anti-clockwise and the refrigerator was in absolute chaos. Just the run-of-the mill ghostly happenings in this weird house that looked like an ordinary dwelling in Essex.

I could see Poppy was afraid by what had obviously happened here during the night, but she was more irritated when she found that the milk carton had somehow been drained leaving just two drops for her tea. The toaster also seemed to be taking on a mind of its own, popping up within seconds and not toasting the bread at all.

Poppy and I exited the house to walk to the bus stop to go to work, and as we did so I glanced back at our house, seeing the curtains moving upstairs as though billowing in the breeze, although the house was shut up tight. It should have scared me and to some extent it did, but now I was getting used to it. Well, as used as one can be to living in a haunted house.

I was glad that Poppy had not seen this. The poor girl had had nothing but trouble since we moved to this house and found out the hard way that ghosts and poltergeists were very real. They scared her non-stop, and I felt so sorry for her, she was definitely their preferred victim.

In front of me, one of Poppy’s shoe laces had come loose and she bent over to tie it, me seeing the shape of her bum and a slight panty line though her blue denim jeans. But now, I could protect Poppy if anything weird happened tonight. I could shower with her, and then we could get into bed and spend the night together and I could protect her from being frightened.

And much more than that. I thought about the delights that lay under Poppy’s bra – her big D cup breasts – and in her knickers – her pubic hair, her vagina, her bottom and her anus. My mind’s eye took me to tonight, taking off my stepsister’s bra and getting into her pink panties, Poppy’s pussy mine once again. How many hours was it until this evening?

THE END