Stormont Cottage Ch 01
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Stormont Cottage Ch. 04 free porn video
Chapter Four — Like Mother Like Daughter
‘Well I guess we know who the dyke is in that couple,’ Ellen Weaver said after the girls had climbed out of the back of Bobbie Lee’s baby-blue Cadillac, and dashed off down the hill towards the cottage.
She appraised her daughter, Christina, with an uncharitable eye. It wasn’t her looks, the kid was cute enough, with a round face, big brown eyes, cute little nose, and big boobs that compensated for her chubbiness. Her dark brown hair that she wore off her face was reasonably full and shiny. No, it wasn’t her looks, it was the way she dressed, and the way she carried herself, that made her look like a dyke. The rest of them were probably a little over-dressed for a barbeque, but it was a first time get-together with the new neighbors, and first impressions were important. Christina probably was the only one properly dressed for the occasion, but that was no excuse. She had on a pair of blue jeans that should have been at least a half a size smaller, a black T-shirt with some rock band or other on it, that should have been at least a size smaller, a boy’s cotton, long- sleeved, checked shirt, and a pair of beat up Adidas running shoes. Worse, she moved heavily, not taking advantage of her full figure at all.
Beside her, so much more graceful and delicate, Juliette was all girly and bouncy, smiling with her plump, sensuous lips, screwing up her little nose and accentuating her high boned, apple cheeks. Her hair wasn’t as nice as Christina’s, it was a mousy brown, but the straight bangs suited her, and the long sides and back gave her something to fiddle coyly with. She had smaller boobs than Christina, but her hips flared invitingly and she had it all stuffed into a sleeveless, tight little white dress that rode well above the knee. She may have just turned eighteen, but she was a thoroughly experienced tease.
‘Like mothah like dawtah. Ah do recall an assertive young lady, even foh a Yankee, back at ‘Ol Miss,’ Bobbie Lee Lange replied, referring to their own relationship back in college.
‘Hey, I was a little on the stern side, but at least I had some style, at least I wasn’t obvious,’ Ellen replied.
‘Those were good times,’ Bobbie Lee said wistfully. She was more beautiful than her saucy daughter was ever likely to be with short blonde hair that always appeared artfully tousled, classically beautiful high cheekbones, bright blue eyes that still shone with mischief, and even more sensuous lips than her daughter’s.
‘A long time ago,’ Ellen replied. Bobbie Lee had been trying to restart their relationship ever since she had moved in, and although Ellen wasn’t against the idea of getting into her old lover’s tight, hip hugger’s, she was more than a little worried about getting tangled up in her unstable life. Something bad had happened back in North Carolina, people had died in very foggy circumstances, and Bobbie Lee wouldn’t even acknowledge it, let alone talk about it.
Bobbie changed the subject. ‘They all seem to be on the up and up to you?’ she asked a little nervously while closing the driver side door with her hip. She held her lemon meringue pie in one hand and her beach bag in the other.
‘They seem like a perfectly normal family,’ Ellen replied, but she wasn’t so sure. She had done what she could to check them out. The gate chain that had blocked the narrow dirt lane from the highway to the Stormont property had been unlocked, neither chain nor lock were broken or showed any signs of being forced. The T-Bird parked up by the unfinished foundation of the abandoned lake house had California plates, as did the pick-up truck that they had managed to drive all the way down to the lake. Barbara York was more than a little Californian, but not shifty or creepy in any way, and the letter she had produced, vouching for her right to be there was written and signed by a Mr Smith. That jived, from the Ellen had moved in down the lake, the locals had always said that the place was owned by a Mr Smith who lived in California.
‘What you all smiling yoah wicked smile foah?’ Bobbie Lee asked coyly.
‘Nothing,’ she replied stretching, ‘it’s a beautiful evening, nice and warm for this time of year, and I think we’re all going to have a wonderful time.’ She had a feeling that although these Californians may not be outright frauds, there was something a little off center about them. Their story that Mr Smith, who was supposed to be an old friend Barbara’s was letting them use the place so that she could get her daughter away from the bad influences of LA while checking out the place to see if it was feasible to re-start the building, seemed a little thin. Barbara was obviously not some uptight matron fleeing the wicked ways of Hollywood, in fact she gave off waves of earthy sexuality that could not be denied. And right away you could feel the tension between her and that hard bodied, boyfriend of her daughter’s. Sexual tension there, Ellen had sensitive radar for that kind of thing and had felt it the first time she met them. Erotic tension, and something more as well, maybe some kind of shared guilt. She didn’t care what they were really up too, she was sure that whatever it was wasn’t a threat to her, no doubt it was kinky, but private
.
Well, she liked kinky. She had always walked on the wild side, had been doing drugs and taboo sex way back in the late fifties before it became fashionable. Her ex-husband had once been hip too, but after marriage he thought they should grow up and become respectable citizens and parents. They had tried, he half managed, but she failed completely. They had been separated for almost three years now and legally divorced for six months. She was well off financially, but emotionally she was a wreck. She chose to live totally alone with just Christina in their fine, isolated ex-urban house. Not wanting to work, and n not needing to, she had slipped into a world of booze, prescription drugs and writing. She wrote nasty, cynical, sex-charged short stories and novels, about the underbelly of suburbia. There wasn’t a publisher in America who would touch them, but she didn’t really care. She liked creating characters and then dragging them through detailed rounds of betrayal and debauchery.
Bobbie Lee’s arrival had been a pleasant surprise, and she had every intention of resuming their old college girl fling, with some new nasty habits that she had picked up over the years. Oh ya, pretty soon she was going to find out just how crazy Bobbie Lee really was, but for now she was enjoying stringing her along, teasing her. These days everybody was a potential sexual conquest for Ellen, grist for her imagination, and that included Bobbie Lee and her flirty little daughter, as well as all of these beautiful, loose, and probably vulnerable Californians. The only person she wouldn’t fuck was Christina, that was where she drew the line. She wasn’t ready to have sex with her daughter, which was not to say that she wouldn’t mind having sex alongside her.
As she followed Bobbie Lee down the steep, narrow path to the cottage she looked forward to a night with multiple nasty possibilities.
Nadine
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