Chapter 1
Her naked body hissed between the sheets as she slid
into bed. It was a luxurious feeling, like hotel sheets
always are, cool, crisp and fresh, nearly crackling. She
felt like purring as she snuggled down, allowing the
soft comfort to ease the tension of the day's drive from
her.
Fresh from the shower, glowing with a pampered warmth,
she rolled to the center of the king-size bed and
languidly stretched. A satisfied smile danced across her
full lips as she once more came alive. Carefully, she
arranged the shoulder length strands of light brunette
hair in a fluffy cascade on the pillow, framing the
classical oval beauty of her face in a silken cloud of
softness.
As a last touch, she raised the sheet and let it slowly
drift down, moulding its whiteness to the supple
contours of her nakedness: a veil that completely hid
the smooth pinkness of her body, but a veil that went
beyond the point of mere suggestion and presented an
alluring portrait of willing innocence.
Prepared, her eyes swept over the room, finally focusing
on the open door to a small bathroom. An impish glint
played over the misty green of her eyes and a pleased
smile once more crept back to her lips. She waited -
waited for the man still busying himself in the shower.
Michael Hightower; she let the name roll over in her
mind, quivering as shivery little thrills tingled their
way through her. He was a Michael, not a Mike. Mike was
a name for a boy. Michael Hightower was most definitely
a man!
Mrs. Michael Hightower; she savored the feel of it,
tingling as new excitement washed over her. Diana
Little, meet Diana Hightower, she continued to mentally
play with her new name.
She felt like a newlywed. Despite the fact that she and
Michael had lived together for the past semester at
college, she felt like a newlywed. She trembled anew,
her body alive with the excited warmth of anticipation.
She was acting like some foolish school girl and loved
every moment of it!
The blasting water of the shower abruptly ceased and the
curt sound of metal rings sliding along the shower rod
entered the room, sending a vivid flush of eager
gooseflesh running up her spine. She listened as he
pulled a towel free and briskly rubbed himself dry.
She heard two steps, then he was there, standing in the
doorway, naked except for a small white towel wrapped
hastily around his waist.
"Hello, wife," he grinned, his eyes lit with self-
assured confidence.
Wife, lover, mistress or whore, any way you'll take me,
she thought as he brushed the rumpled mop of thick,
black hair away from his face and crossed the room. The
towel and his brisk stride gave him the air of a
triumphant conqueror come to claim his reward. Her eyes
trained on the slit that opened in the terry cloth,
exposing a suntanned thigh as he stepped. She tried to
glimpse what lay beneath, although she already knew.
"Tired?" he smiled down at her from the side of the bed.
"Not that tired!" she returned the smile. "After all,
this is our wedding night!"
His wide grin was back, "Have I ever told you how
beautiful you are?"
"Yes," her eyelids coyly fluttered down in mock modesty,
then opened wide, revealing two sparkling eyes of
emerald green. "But keep on doing it. I love it!"
She wasn't a beautiful woman, she knew that, but she was
attractive. The obvious attributes of her body were
nothing out of the ordinary when taken individually, but
together, that was another story. That she knew how to
highlight what she had only added to the enticing
picture she presented to Michael's eyes.
"What's that ridiculous towel for?" she frowned up to
her new husband.
"Just following the advice of all those marriage manuals
I've read in preparation for this moment," he chuckled.
"They all said a man should never let a woman see his
genital area on the first night of their marriage. It
might frighten her!"
"But..." her hand reached up, grabbed the towel and
tugged, this is not our first night!"
It came free and fell to his feet. Her gleaming deep
green eyes homed in on the sleeping form of his cock.
No, penis, she corrected herself, when his cock naps
it's a penis.
Small, almost bud-like, it nestled securely in the nest
of black pubic hairs thickly covering his groin. She had
known men whose cocks were always the same size, only
growing hard as they were aroused. But this penis would
blossom into a long, unyielding rod of a cock! That she
could watch and feel its virile metamorphosis made it
that much better!
"...And I happen to love looking at you," her hand
tenderly crept up the inside of his thighs.
Long, cool and graceful, her fingers cupped around his
testicles and cock. He sighed, as the gentle caress
stirred swirling, pulsing life into his loins. Her
fingertips lazily circled the sensitive crown of his
organ, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from his lips.
Throbbing with pulsating surges of blood, he grew under
her gentle ministrations. She knew what she was handling
and how to handle it. Lovingly, her fingers glided up
and down the growing column in light fleeting strokes.
Like a snake coming to life, it jerked and twitched.
Engorged and alive, it bobbed upward, its head
transforming from bud-like smallness to a thick, plump-
looking plum. Tube-like, it stiffened, growing hard and
erect. Still her dancing fingers worked their taunting
magic, teasing and titilating the shaft as it grew.
When her hand eventually drifted between his open thighs
to find the dangling sac of his balls, he no longer
sported a penis but a cock! Long, hard, thick and
swollen, it jutted from his crotch at a forty- five
degree angle. Its lust-gorged glans twitched with fired
arousal. A small drop of clear sexual oil oozed from its
small slitted mouth.
Her wide green eyes rolled up to him, no longer
flickering with girlish delight, but with the eager
flames of a woman - a woman that knew what she wanted!
She smiled, recognizing the desire that played in his
eyes.
"I love your hands on me," he smiled back, moaning as an
inquisitive finger teasingly probed and swirled over his
scrotum.
"So do I," she whispered, her pink tongue slicking her
lips, then her eyes returned to the cock she had brought
to life.
For minutes, he stood there, letting her finger play at
his sac. He moaned as she toyed with his stirring balls.
She caressed them and taunted them. Her fingers rolled
their weighty shapes back and forth in the bag that held
them.
Then her hand was back on his prick. She grasped his rod
tightly, squeezing its blood-filled thickness, as if
testing the fatness of its circumference. Up and down
along the inflexible length of his manhood, her clinging
fist jerked until he groaned and his knees threatened to
give way.
Pulling her demanding hand from his cock, he reached
down and tucked his fingers beneath the top of the sheet
covering her. Slowly, he pulled the veiling whiteness
downward, his eager eyes hungrily devouring the
nakedness he discovered.
Like firm half-melons, her tits jutted proudly up to
him. He delighted in the trembly little quaking that set
them liquidly juggling as she shivered in her
excitement. Deep pink nipples, surrounded by coral-
blushed haloes, crested the lovely fleshy mounds. As he
gazed, the rubbery little buttons fattened and
thickened, as she anticipated what was to come.
Lower the sheet and his eyes drifted. Down over the
quivering sleekness of her belly with its deep sensuous
navel the cloth came, revealing a distinctive tangle of
silky brown pubic fur bushed over the plump rise of her
sex. Quickly, with his own eagerness growing, he pulled
the rest of the sheet from her body, unveiling two
shapely legs that slowly spread open in an announcement
of her body's willingness.
"Beautiful," he whispered almost to himself.
A definitely pleased smile on her lips, she opened her
arms to him and he came, sitting on the side of the bed
and leaning over her. His hands were at the sides of her
face, tenderly brushing her cheeks and toying with the
softness of her hair. In silence, their eyes spoke the
words of their love as they gazed at each other for a
few brief moments.
Leaning further down, his lips were on hers in a light,
brushing kiss. Waves of gooseflesh rippled over her as
his chest was on hers with a warm gentle pressure. The
stiff tips of her nipples tingled even harder and
stabbed into the man above her. Just soaking in the feel
of him, her hands roved over his back, reveling in the
smoothness of his skin and the roll of his muscles
beneath.
His lips moved away for an instant, then he was back.
His tongue teased invitingly at her lips until they
parted and his oral digit entered the humid warmth of
her mouth. Pressin his weight harder against her
yielding willingness, his tongue darted around in the
sweet harbor it had found. She welcomed him, tightening
her arms around his back and using her own tongue to
taunt over and around the invader swirling at the roof
of her mouth.
He withdrew and she followed. Probing toward his throat,
her tongue drilled eagerly into his mouth. Twirling and
flicking, she teased the growing glow of love-lust
stirring within his body. Then his teeth lightly clamped
down on her swirling oral probe, holding it securely. He
sucked at its provocative softness until she moaned and
writhed with pleasure under him.
When he finally released the captive digit, his mouth
left hers and his tongue was flicking its way over her
ear lobe. He worked until he could feel the shivering
trembles of her excitement, then he let his teeth nibble
for several moments.
Low moans rolled up from her throat as his lips moved
down the long graceful arch of her neck. Lightly
kissing, he took control of her body. A body he knew and
had learned to arouse to its fullest during their year
together. He controlled and affected her like no other
man had been able to do. This was not a man taking a
virgin bride, but an expert lover having his woman,
giving and taking to please and be pleased.
His mouth drifting with tantalizing slowness toward the
waiting bulges of her breasts, he slid into the bed
beside her, delighting as she trembled along the length
of his body.
Her hands were far from still. They roamed down his
spine, finding the cheeks of his ass. With titilating
dexterity, her fingertips taunted at his buttocks and
the deep crease between the tightening demiglobes. Like
feathers of loving caress, she played, forcing his ass
muscles to draw up hard and ready.
His own hands were on her tits, sizing up the full
circumference of the enticing forms. Around the
bountiful mounds of flesh, his fingers circled, exciting
in the summery warmth they found. In spiralling fashion,
his palms climbed the sloped curves of her breasts.
Squirming under him, one of her hands left his ass and
clamped urgently around the shaft of man meat throbbing
at his groin, as his fingers reached out and tapped the
hard nipples at the crests of the two peaking tits.
Squeezing him, her hand was hot and demanding.
Suddenly his mouth dropped down, capturing one of the
stiff little buds. He sucked and pulled at the rubbery
tip until she moaned and her hand jerked at his pulsing
pole of cock. Then his teeth bit lightly into the button
seized by his lips.
Fire flamed through the aching nipple, when his mouth
abruptly retreated and then attacked the sister button
of flesh. She groaned and quivered as her want for this
man she now called "husband" grew. She was his! His to
do with as he pleased!
Harder and harder his lips sucked at the sexually
burning bud of her breast. Her back arched up, shoving
the luxurious pillow of her tit flesh into his face and
licking as she moaned and writhed under his
ministrations.
Her whole body jolted as one of his hands left its firm
hold on her breasts and slid down over her stomach to
grasp the far-covered mound waiting between her spread
thighs. Her lust-inflamed pelvis twitched and pushed
into his palm.
Firmly squeezing the fleshy mound of woman-sex, he
easily slid a finger into the wet warmth of her cunt.
She twitched and rotated the hungry lips of her pussy,
trying to impale herself on the taunting digit of his
explorations - a wish he complied with in a driving
plunge that drilled his finger into the caressing hole
of her vagina.
Easily, his finger pumped in and out of the oil-slicked
channel, while he tickled another fingertip between the
pouting cleft of her outer lips. Upward the inquisitive
digit taunted along the wet crease of her snatch, to
cajole the tiny bud of her clitoris out from under its
hood of skin. She groaned and twitched as the dual
sensations of his mouth at her tit and his vigorously
fucking fingers sent ardent waves of pleasure through
her body. Her hips hunched into his hands, caught in the
rhythm of his fingers. His control of her was complete.
Her whole being begged for him to open her with the
thick, swollen shaft she clutched in her hand.
"Now!" she moaned, tugging at the throbbing lance her
body pleaded for. "Now! Please! Give it to me now!"
Pulling his lips from her tit with a wet "pop," his
mouth once more was hers and his tongue was striving to
slither into her throat. Her legs spread even wider,
opening to him as he rolled atop her waiting nakedness.
Each of his hands found and squeezed the fleshy orbs
that jutted up to him from her chest. She moaned and
squirmed under the sweet agony of his hands, while her
own hand still clutching the pulsing column of flesh
between his thighs, guided it between the outer lips of
her labia. Thick and engorged, the bulbous mass of his
cockshead throbbed and jerked within the soft confines
of her slit.
Then, in an easy twitch of his pelvis, he slid his shaft
into the well-lubricated channel of her cunt. Deep,
sinking to his hilt, he glided into the moist clutchy
folds of her vagina.
She grunted and quivered as he entered. Big, hard, and
swollen, his cock filled her to the brim. He jerked and
pulsed with virile life that packed the tunnel of her
sex. Her hand slipped from his crotch and returned to
join its sister, clinging to the hard mounds of his
buttocks.
"Fuck me!" she whispered-moaned, pulling her mouth from
his. "Fuck me hard, my husband!"
Releasing his holds on her tits, he raised himself on
his elbows, smiling down with pleasure at the woman -
his wife - who lay beneath him. The stiff nipples of her
breasts still stabbed into his chest, as she writhed
languidly under the deep impalement of his sex.
Responding to her desires, his hips whipped back,
wrenching the thick column of his cock from the clinging
velvet channel of her belly. Then he slammed himself
forward, drilling full length into the loving saddle of
lust he rode.
She groaned and her head rolled wantonly on her
shoulders as she accepted and welcomed the hard rod of
stiff meat cramming back inside her. He pulled out again
and she moaned as the lust-filled head of his prick
strained the walls of her pussy in its exit. He plunged
once again.
The sudden invasion drew a sharp cry of delight from her
lips. The tight, young muscles of her cunt contracted
into a sheath of squeezing delight, surrounding his
lusty stalk of manliness. His hips jerked upward, then
lunged down again, burying the hard rod of flesh deeper
into her yielding cunt.
Her hands dug into his ass, her nails biting his flesh
with aroused need. As he pumped and poled into the core
of her quick, she urged him on, pulling him hard with
each downstroke of his groin. Her legs crossed around
his, locking him to her in the rising desperation of her
desire.
Long, hard and big, he shafted into the spongy mouth of
her belly. She groaned and writhed under the constant
skewering lance that opened and reopened her. She
clutched him and begged and pleaded for more.
Harder, his cock drilled into the warm caressing
recesses of her cunt, trying to nail her to the bed
beneath their bodies. She squirmed and quivered under
him, the satin pillows of her tits rolling against his
chest and the erect, firm nipples digging into his
flesh.
Her ass swished and hissed over the sheet as her hips
took up the rhythm of his fucking. As he lunged down,
her pelvis leaped up and greeted his swollen rod,
helping it to plow even deeper into the grateful channel
of her unabandoned lust. She squeezed and held him in
the depths of her pussy for a brief instant.
Then he jerked out, wrenching the filling thickness of
his presence from her. In turn, her hips dropped back to
the bed, then jumped forth once more to envelop his
bigness as it penetrated her body.
She no longer groaned, but grunted with each pounding
impact of his loins against her eager cuntal mound. Her
body was jolted time and again, as he pumped his stiff
mass into her with reckless abandon.
Suddenly, he dropped full weight to her body, his chest
smashing into her tits, pancaking their roundness
beneath him. His hands slid under her, grasping the perk
curves of her ass and jerking them upward to increase
the angle of his driving plunges.
She groaned as he speared closer and closer to her soul.
Her hands anchored firmly into his ass and she pulled
even harder as he lunged, as if trying to take him into
her, balls and all. She twisted and squirmed with
soaring pleasure under the battering attack of his
loins.
Together they rose in a fervor of erotic delirium. They
strove to reach new levels of ecstasy. Pounding,
groaning, aching, and grunting, they drove into and
accepted each other, attempting to take every ounce of
pleasure each offered.
Higher and higher she soared. Her thighs throbbed and
pounded with the growing agony of near release. Aching,
writhing, and groaning, she was caught up in an
imploding universe of lust - a lust that consumed her in
tidal wave after tidal wave of soul-rendering passion.
Simultaneously, his balls boiled with the fire of desire
and up from the aching depths of his testicles a molten
flow raced through his throbbing and pulsing cock. He
erupted, spewing the thick fountain of his lust into her
belly. Hunching deep into her cunt, he emptied himself
of seemingly gallons of hot cum that splattered and
coated the contracting folds of her pussy until the
flood of sperm and semen overflowed the well of her sex
and oozed out around his thickness.
Their desperate, wanton lust expended, they clutched
each other in loving caresses. Their grateful bodies
heaved and trembled in the wake of their passion. With
tender love, their mouths met and kissed in silent
"thank you" for the pleasure shared.
Chapter 2
Diana felt anticipation growing within her as Michael
wheeled their small, fully packed MGB down the narrow
road. Outside, the moss-laden cypresses of the bayou
country blurred by. She reached out and lovingly
squeezed her husband's thigh. He glanced at her, smiled,
then returned his eyes to the winding road.
Michael had been uneasy about this visit to his parents
home, afraid she would be offended by the interruption
of their honeymoon, which would eventually end up in
Mexico City for a week, before Michael took over a
position in a small Houston advertising firm.
But the trip was necessary, she had assured him. He had
some money tied up in a trust, which was now needed to
buy in as a partner of the firm. The business deal was
too important to pass by! And besides, she was looking
forward to meeting the Hightower family.
"Hold on and watch out for 'gators," Michael cut into
her thoughts, as he turned off the highway onto a small
asphalt road. "It's about five miles up this way."
Diana slipped the clasp from her purse and retrieved the
needed brush and lipstick to prepare herself for her
first encounter with her new in-laws.
"Don't worry," Michael threw her a broad grin. "You're
beautiful... as always."
She chuckled, "I love you, too. But first impression and
best foot forward, you know."
"No problem. They'll love you," he assured her. "I just
hope you'll like..."
"Relax, I know I'll like them," she broke in, as she
straightened her clothing and pressed the wrinkles from
her skirt with her palms. "Especially if they're
anything like you."
"I give up. A woman in love is blind," he grinned and
shrugged his shoulders. "Just remember, the Hightowers
are a bit eccentric."
"I'll remember," she grimmaced. "You make it sound as if
I was walking into some grisly scene straight out of a
Gothic novel."
"It's not quite that bad..." he laughed, "...but the
Hightower family is just a little bit different and
somewhat weird."
"You can't scare me off now, Michael Hightower!" she
returned in mock anger. "I've read all those tales of
werewolves and vampires. And I've come equipped with a
silver bullet and wooden stake!"
His laughter increased, "Okay! You win! No more!"
Then he continued, carrying her joke a step further,
"Just remember, Grandma sacrifices virgins at midnight
every night in the basement!"
"Virgins, hmmmmm?" she slid her hand up to the crotch of
his jeans and allowed her fingers to tease along the
sleeping bulge of his cock. "No worry there for me, is
there!"
"You keep that up, woman, and I'll have to pull over to
the side-of the road and **** your young body!" he
grinned, easing her tempting fingers away.
"Promises, promises," she sighed, a wistful look in her
eyes.
"Patience, my dear," he answered in a Bela Lugosi
imitation, "ven night come, so vill you!"
Suddenly, she scooted to the edge of her seat and leaned
over. Her teeth lightly nipped at his neck and she
sucked loudly.
"I vant to suck your co..." she started.
"Greedy, bitch!" his palm slapped sharply on the exposed
cheek of her skirt-covered rump.
"Ouch!" she yelped, pouting as she withdrew back into
her seat.
He grinned at her, "On your best behavior, wench; we're
here."
Before them on the road, which apparently was nothing
more than one hell of a long driveway, stood a massive
stone wall. A wrought iron gate, complete with arch and
a swirling Old English "H" in an intricate circle, was
open. Slowing down, Michael eased the sports car through
the narrow passage. No longer was the surrounding
country the tangled jungle of bayou undergrowth, but a
plush carpet of green grass. No, she decided, lawn was
more like it, well-manicured with landscaped shrubs
growing around towering magnolia trees.
"Welcome to the Hightower Estate," Michael waved one of
his hands to scene stretched before them.
"Michael, you didn't tell me... it's beautiful," she
exclaimed with obvious delight.
"Up ahead is the Hightower home." he smiled pleased with
her reaction.
"Home? Mansion is more like it!" She stared at the white
brick, two-story house set back among the flowering
trees.
"This is an old plantation my father found and restored
several years ago," her husband explained. "He liked the
isolation it offered."
The road widened into a circular driveway that led to
the front of the Hightower mansion. Michael wheeled
around and before the immense structure.
The place is authentic, just like the Old South," he
continued. "Like it?"
"Like it? It's fantastic," she muttered, somewhat in
shock by the unexpected mansion.
She found herself mumbling dumbfoundedly, "Michael, why
didn't you tell me that..."
"That my family has some money?" he smiled.
She nodded, unable to find the appropriate words.
"It didn't seem to matter... with you," he leaned over
and tenderly kissed her. "Does it?"
"No, you big, beautiful idiot!" she grinned, throwing
her arms around his neck and planting a loud wet kiss on
his lips. "No, it didn't matter. But please don't mind
if I'm excited as hell about it! Not to mention
nervous!"
"Nervous?" he grinned. "Don't worry. They'll love you!"
"But?"
"But nothing. The Hightowers may be a tad bit strange,
but we really live rather simple," he reassured her.
"That's what money's all about. It lets you live in the
style you want."
She shook her head, still unbelieving, and started to
speak, but Michael announced, "Here they come. Time to
meet your in-laws."
She glanced to the house and saw a man walking briskly
toward the car. With a last few brushes at her skirt,
Diana took a deep breath, opened the door and slid out.
The man, a wide grin on his face, was at Michael's side,
behind them she glimpsed a feminine figure stepping from
the house.
"Father, my wife, Diana," Michael beamed. "Diana, meet
Michael Hightower, Number One."
She knew a surprised look was plastered stupidly across
her face, but it couldn't be helped. Her father-in-law's
resemblance to his son, her husband, was unbelievable.
He was identical to Michael, except for a slightly
older-looking face and a few strands of grey hair
salting the area around his temples. The elder Hightower
even wore blue-jeans and a pullover in the fashion of
his son. Had she not known that he was nearing fifty,
she would have guessed his age to be no more than in the
mid-thirties.
"She's beautiful, Michael," he grinned, dropping a hand
he had proferred as a greeting. "Handshakes are for men.
I prefer a healthy hug for beautiful women... that is if
you don't object."
Smiling, she shook her head in the negative and opened
her arms. The hug was no more than a quick friendly
squeeze. Still somewhat stunned by the father and son
resemblance, she mumbled something about being pleased
at the warm greeting and found her "Mr. Hightower"
immediately corrected to "Michael One," if having two
Michaels around confused her.
"Diana, welcome," a flurry of a woman form pushed around
the older Hightower and she was getting another warm hug
and a quick womanly kiss on the cheek. "We're all so
happy."
"My wife, Lorraine," her father-in-law made the
introduction.
Diana found herself mentally knocked for another loop,
when she was finally released from the hug and got a
good look at her new mother-in-law. Lorraine was a
beautiful woman. Not only beautiful, but she didn't look
a day over twenty-five. She was dressed in a loose-
fitting silk caftan, but the light afternoon breeze
pressed the thin fabric against her body, revealing the
curves of an equally young woman.
Dear old Dad likes 'em sweet and tender, she mentally
noted, remembering Michael's words about his family
being "a little different."
Jolt three came when Lorraine introduced her two
c***dren, jerking the rug out from under Diana's twenty-
five year old theory. First there was Paula - eighteen
and sharing her mother's blonde, flowing hair and
shapely figure. And at sixteen and a full six feet, was
Bryan. Brushing the reddish-blonde mat of long hair from
his face, he offered Diana a handshake in greeting. Her
first impression of him as a young athlete was
reinforced by the strength of his grip.
Michael had told her of his father's re-marriage after
his wife's death five years ago, but this bordered on
the unbelievable. Lorraine looked so young, but here
were her c***dren by a previous marriage. And they were
in their late teens. Hell, Diana thought, I'm only
twenty-one and Michael's just twenty-two.
"This is my sister, Katherine," her husband introduced
the final member of the Hightower family.
"Kate, to friends and family," the young black-haired
girl insisted, giving Diana another friendly hug.
Michael's true sister, Diana knew, was s*******n. And
she realized the good looks of the Hightowers weren't
reserved for the men, as she gazed at the young girl.
"My other son, Jim, hasn't arrived home from school
yet," the elder Michael Hightower spoke. "We expect him
in by Sunday. Which will give you a chance to meet him
before you two have to leave."
She nodded, then allowed her father-in-law to escort her
into the Hightower "home." If the immense house appeared
to be a mansion on the outside, it did doubly so within.
A great sweeping, curved stairway leading to the upper
floor stood at the back of the entry hall. And
everywhere was highly polished wood paneling.
She only glimpsed the other rooms, as Lorraine took over
and led her and Michael upstairs to their room to
freshen up before dinner. Their room looked like
something out of Gone With The Wind and Diana raced
across the room to fly bouncing on the over-sized four-
poster bed as soon as Lorraine departed, announcing
dinner would be ready in an hour or so.
"It's beautiful and they're nice," she grinned up from
the bed, still feeling the jostling mattress beneath
her.
"I'm glad," Michael said, climbing in beside her. "I was
worried."
"I know," she whispered, cradling his head and kissing
him with soft warmth.
His arms encircled her, pulling her close. Their tongues
played around, exploring the warm wetness of their
mouths for moments, gradually increasing the urgency of
their embrace and sparking flames and lighting fires.
She wiggled and squirmed even closer, so that her body
was pressed firmly down the front of him. Even through
their clothes, she could detect the growing bulge at his
crotch. She rolled her thigh over the hardening length,
suggestively. He moaned, pulling her hard to him, his
hands roaming over her back.
"I seem to remember a certain vampire out front and a
certain lewd proposal," he whispered as he nibbled her
ear when they parted.
"You are under my power," she whispered, picking up the
Transylvanian accent they had used earlier. "You vill do
as I say."
"I will do as you say," he laughed, playfully hugging
her close, and once more kissing her long and hard,
leaving them both fully aroused when they parted.
"Well, do as I say then!" she chided. "Get those clothes
off. 'Cause, boy have I got some unusual vampiric
techniques to show you!"
"A little snack before dinner?" he smiled as he hastily
stripped.
"You might say that!" her eyes sparkled, as they focused
in on the jutting, jerking pole of cock throbbing hard
and rigid from his groin. "Now sit on the side of the
bed."
He did as she said, enjoying the view as she slipped
free of her blouse and her pleated skirt. Next came the
"blushing pink" bra and matching bikini panties. Naked,
she came toward him, her green eyes trained on him like
those of a cat hypnotizing its prey before it pounced.
Her uptilted tits swayed in a delightful little dance,
moved by the exaggerated movement of her hips. His balls
tightened familiarly and his stiff rod jerked and
twitched with anticipation.
A foot before him, she stopped, posing momentarily,
letting her hands briefly cup the firm globes of her
breasts, then slide seductively down the sleek curves of
her sides and hips. Once again he felt lust grab his
testicles in a taut grip of desire.
Locking his eyes to hers, she slowly lowered herself
before him, kneeling on the floor. His legs parted and
she moved forward, taking advantage of his positioning
on the side of the bed.
She glanced down to his crotch and studied the thick
pole shafting out toward her face - and mouth! Gently,
with loving care, she reached out and tenderly ran her
fingertips down its unbending length. It throbbed and
pulsed with virile life beneath her touch. A single drop
of crystal clear pre-seminal fluid welled from its tiny
pinprick mouth.
Her emerald eyes rolled back up to him, as if saying "I
see what is being offered and I like it." Her naturally
blushed lips were caught in an elfin smile of mischief.
Her pink tongue flicked wetly from behind her lips and
gleaming white teeth. Then her eyes descended back to
the swollen pole standing hard and proud at his crotch.
Her fingers once more stroked its strained length and
she watched it jerk and pulse with growing excitement.
As he watched from his bedside perch, she reached up and
pulled his lust-ladened cock downward until it jutted at
a ninety degree angle from his groin. Her eyes titled
back up to him and she smiled once more, before
returning to a demonstration of her "techniques."
He reveled in the sight of the woman kneeling on the
floor before his cock. On her knees, as if she were
worshipping the thick slab of dick he sported.
His positioning allowed him full view as her wet pink
tongue curled out from behind her lips. He watched as
its glistening tip extended closer and closer. Then with
a light, feathery touch, she tapped the mouth of his
sex. Electricity sizzled through his loins, as she
captured the clear drop of sexual oil oozing from his
glans.
Her tongue returned to her mouth and with it the juices
she had stolen from his organ. He watched as she rolled
the drop in her mouth, savoring it and then swallowing.
Her tongue, as if she was satisfied with the taste of
him, was back, swirling and washing over the sensitive
softness of his engorged cock head. The reddening glans
of his prick were left glistening and wet with a wake of
her saliva.
Her attention then turned to the underside of his
throbbing rod. Languorously, her teasing oral digit ran
its sweet moist tip along the rough ridge of skin
emerging from the black bush of his pubic hairs to the
wrinkled folds surrounding the fattened head of his
cock.
As if she were a c***d slowly playing with a candy
stick, her tongue lapped at him, sending quakes of
fantastic pleasure flowing up from his groin and through
his body. His balls ached, drawing tightly within their
taut sac. His bone-hard shaft pounded with excitement,
as blood throbbed at an increased rate through its
swollen length.
He moaned as her teeth clamped lightly down on his
bigness. Up and down the fleshy wand of delight she
nibbled, while her marvelously soft and warm tongue
continued its teasing, flicking dance. Mounting to his
cock's crown once again, she pulled away for an instant,
then leaned forward to nibble and lick at the plum-like
head of his man-shaft.
He groaned and quivered under the swirling sensations
that raced up from his loins. He ached and hurt to have
her mouth. But still she lightly nibbled, driving him to
the region where pleasure and pain mingle in a confusing
mixture that flamed him to sheer a****l lust.
Once again, she abruptly pulled off his cock and stared
at its throbbing, gorged crown. As he watched, her lips
formed a tightly puckered, lubricious "O" and she moved
in. Forward her head tilted, her lips kissing his glans,
then opening to sheath their bulbous form in the humid
shelter of her mouth.
She paused and he watched her swallow and breathe deeply
through her nose. Then in one swooping, fluid motion,
she took him. Full length, she swallowed up the thick
pulsing cock, burying her nose in the dark hair at the
base of his prick.
He groaned and shuttered under the fantastic sensation
of being fully entrenched in her face. Warm and liquid,
her mouth surrounded him. His glans jerked and throbbed
against the back of her throat.
Then with ball-aching slowness, she eased her edacious
mouth off the ponderous mass of manmeat she had
captured. Inch by micro-inch she slipped her pouted lips
from his cock, until only the constantly throbbing glans
remained in her mouth. Then she sucked, forcing even
more blood into the already agitated head. She sucked as
he groaned, almost begging for release from this torture
of delicious pleasure. She sucked, fully demonstrating
the "techniques" she had promised.
Then she abruptly threw herself forward, impaling her
face on the hardness of his swollen lance of manbood. He
banged into the back of her mouth and felt himself slide
down her wonderfully welcoming throat, driving toward
her tonsils. In an equally abrupt manner, she jerked
back. Her taut lips clung to the thick cylinder of cock
she was now truly worshipping, sucking along the whole
length of the rock-hard rod.
Again and again, she repeated the violent fucking of her
face, as he watched with delighted amazement. Her cheeks
bulged outward under each self-inflicted invasion of his
sex. They hollowed deeply as she pulled off his prick,
with her tongue constantly swirling and twirling around
the swollen circumference.
He groaned and moaned as she worked her oral magic on
him. His body was wracked by blast after blast of
lashing sensations. His balls were on fire, threatening
to crack from the flaming heat that consumed them.
As the fiery orb of lust moved up from his testicles,
pushing its way into the rock-hard shaft of his cock, he
reached down and grasped her head, holding her family
impaled on his lust-shaft.
Then he relaxed and let the demanding waves of desire
take his control and his body. Opalescent jets of
burning cum seered through his length, exploding out
into the chalice of her mouth. Helpless in his violent
release, he could but watch her voracious mouth work on
the juices spilling forth from his groin. Her throat
bobbed and twitched as she eagerly accepted and
swallowed each thick gush of sperm and semen he had to
offer.
Throbbing and aching, he moaned as he was wracked by
spurt after spurt of pleasure. His hands slipped weakly
from her head, and her mouth slid back to the nut-like
tip of his penis. Again she sucked. Her tongue and lips
milked every spasmodic twitch still controlling his
cock. She sucked, taking every drop that oozed from him.
She sucked, eating and swallowing the last trace of his
release, then sucked some more as if hoping to find one
last morsel for her predatory mouth.
As the marvelous pleasure of her tongue and lips
threatened to turn to pain, she pulled her head away
from him and once more rolled the deep green of her eyes
upward and smiled. Gratefully, he cupped her face in his
hands and leaned over and kissed her.
"Now," he whispered when their lips drifted apart, "I
have some techniques of my own to demonstrate."
Without the slightest bit of urging, she clambered to
the bed, moaning in fully aroused excitement as his
tongue proceeded to sample the juices of her cunt. And
within a very short time, she was crying out in pleasure
as his mouth sent her soaring to the heights she had
taken him.
Chapter 3
Dinner war simple and formal, which Diana soon learned
that in Hightower terms meant everyone put on clean
jeans and ate hamburgers. Afterwards, Lorraine spirited
Diana away from the rest for a lengthy tour of the
mansion's twenty-five rooms, all of which were in use.
When they returned to the rest of the family, all had
gathered in a spacious den and were sharing the latest
tales of their lives as well as a glass of wine.
Watching as she entered Diana was struck by the
closeness of the family. At least on the surface, there
seemed to be none of the normal bickerings that would be
constantly occurring in any other family of this size.
All in all, they seemed to be one large group of old
friends.
Michael was the first to notice their return. He rose
and smiled.
"Well, how did it go?" he asked pouring two new glasses
of wine and carrying it to them.
"Impressive," Diana replied in a genuine assessment of
the Hightower homestead. "It's completely fantastic!"
Michael nodded as his father grinned, pleased with her
reaction.
"There's a long history to this old place," the head of
the Hightower family began, as Michael directed Diana to
a place beside him on a cozy over-stuffed sofa. "In the
anti-bellum days, this was built by a French family by
the name of Duvalle and was a main base for smuggling
slaves to the free states."
"You can still see the remains of some underground
vaults they hid escaping slaves in until they could
manage passage north," Michael interjected. "There's
some out back I can show you if you're interested."
Diana nodded and listened as her father-in-law went on,
once again struck by the great resemblance of the two
men.
"Michael's right, this place has several quirks which
make it interesting. But back to the Duvalles. It seems
just prior to the Civil War, there was a family split at
which time one half of the family turned in the other
half for their slave-oriented activities.
"The locals hereabouts had a quick kangaroo trial and a
mass hanging of Duvalles down at the parish courthouse.
The remaining half of the family apparently moved down
to New Orleans where they dropped the "e" on their name.
I noticed in the papers three months back where several
'Duvalls' had been arrested by the Police for some
involvement in a ritual style slaying."
"Not your basic friendly types," Diana commented as she
listened to her father-in-law, amazed by the similarity
between his and Michael's voice.
The elder Hightower went on and explained how the house
was taken over by carpetbaggers after the war and then
went through a series of owners, who left it in the
state of ruin he had found it in. He explained how
twenty years ago he had rebuilt the mansion.
As he continued Diana realized that had she not been
looking at the older man, she would not have been able
to tell his voice from that of her husband's.
With a little questioning, Diana learned that the
Hightower family was not Southern but had come from New
England, where they still owned partial interest in a
shipping firm.
The conversation then turned to her and Michael and
their plans. Not to mention several glasses of wine. By
ten, the day's drive and the soothing effects of the
drinks had left Diana drowsy and she excused herself.
Michael remained in the den, explaining Lorraine wanted
to show him some additions to the house before he
retired.
Upstairs, she quickly slipped from her slacks and
showered, letting the full force of the streaming water
work over her naked body like tiny massaging fingers.
Feeling somewhat refreshed, she stepped from her bath
and toweled dry.
Deciding she wasn't as tired as she originally had
thought, she pulled a paperback from her suitcase.
Bouncing down into the softness of the bed, she
attempted to force herself into the storyline of the
novel, but a decided chill to the room kept her mind
from the words.
Admitting to herself she'd have to give up the freedom
of nudity in favor of warmth, she rose from the downy
softness of the bed and crossed the room to retrieve a
robe from the closet. Selecting a thin, suggestive nylon
piece that would fire Michael's interest on his return,
she pulled it from its hanger and slipped into the
flimsy, but warming garment.
A soft glow of light radiating from the back of the
closet caught her eyes. Shoving the hanging clothes
aside, Diana studied what appeared to be a wide crack
separating the large panels at the rear of the closet,
the faint glow seeping through the opening. Puzzled, she
reached out. As her fingertips touched the slightly
disjarred panel, it swung back. Behind it was a narrow
corridor, opening in both directions behind the wall.
Her father-in-law's description of the mansion "having
several quirks" flashed through her mind as she stepped
into the closet for a closer examination of the
discovery. Ducking her head through the aperature, she
peered down the passage. Only darkness met her eyes to
the right, but to the left, the corridor took a sharp
ninety degree turn. The glow that had first drawn her
attention seemed to brighten some around the dog leg.
Secret panels and a secret passage, the whole concept
intrigued her. And as she pulled a lamp from one of the
end tables by the bed and plugged it into a wall socket
near the closet, she realized why the heroines in all
those Gothic adventures never faltered in exploring such
discoveries - plain, simple curiosity.
That same curiosity now took hold of her. However, she
wasn't about to make the same foolish mistakes ineptly
made by the dumb broads of the late night movies.
Placing the lamp on the floor of the closet, she
switched it on. It would serve as a beacon to guide her
return, if the glow should suddenly disappear. As an
extra precaution, she firmly lodged one of Michael's
shoes across the threshold of the secret doorway to act
as a wedge should the panel somehow decide to close
itself, or should someone else come to the same
conclusion.
Then she slipped into the passage.
She tingled with the excitement of the situation as she
moved down the narrow corridor. Her steps were slow and
deliberate, doing her best to proceed in silence. The
scenes of a thousand screen thrillers flashed through
her mind with every step she took.
Her eyes darted from side to side examining her
confining surroundings. If this were a secret passage,
it certainly didn't fit the normal description given to
one by writers, she noted as she grew closer to the turn
in the corridor and the dim glow. There were no cobwebs
and interspaced on the ceiling every twenty feet or so,
she could detect light bulbs, although none of these
were lit at the moment.
Gingerly, she felt her way down the fifty feet from the
closet and rounded the corner. There she found the
passage opened into a small nook. Side by side in the
limited space of the cubby hole area were six folding
chairs, facing the curtain-covered wall where she stood.
The glow, which lit the room in a dusk-like quality,
suffused out from behind the edges of the d****ry. On
the far side of the chair-filled room, the passage began
again. However, to continue only offered darkness.
All in all she found her discovery rather anti-climatic
- a conclusion that was short-lived as she tucked her
fingers between the heavy d****ry and parted the cloth
slightly for a peek at what lay on the other side.
The other side was a huge glass window!
And beyond the transparent barrier was a spacious
bedroom containing a bed that could have been a sister
to the one in her room. She then saw the occupants of
the strangely windowed room - Paula and Kate.
The stepsisters stood at the side of the bed nearest the
glass. They were dressed only in panties and bras. The
remainder of their clothing was strewn on the floor at
their feet.
As Diana watched, confused by the unexpected sight, the
two young girls stepped to each other. Their hands
reached and touched for a brief instant. They smiled and
spoke, but Diana was unable to hear what was said. But
when they suddenly embraced in an open-mouth kiss, their
arms wrapping around each other tightly, there was no
doubt in her mind as to what had been the substance of
their brief exchange.
Diana found herself mesmerized by the alluring beauty of
the young, half-clad bodies pressed together in
voluptuous pleasure. Unexplainable shivers coursed
through her as she watched their still forming breasts
press against their near nakedness; the whiteness of
their flesh attempting to spill out over the confining
cups of their bras.
Their lips worked together. She felt a dampness welling
within her as she detected the flurried pinkness of
their exploring tongues dance back and forth into their
mouths, probing and teasing each other.
Unable to withdraw from her voyeur's position, she
stared as their hands slowly roved over the gentle
curves of the backs, slipping along the slopes of their
spines to the pert roundness of their asses. Their
fingers toyed and played, ducking under the elastic of
their panties to soothingly caress the tantalizing
cushions of their hind-cheeks.
As she watched, the blonde-haired Paula stepped away
from the embrace. Her arms reached behind her back and
easily unclasped the tiny hooks holding her bra. The
white garment fell away to join the rest of the clothes
on the floor. Her tits, young and firm, did a bouncy
little dance, eventually standing from her chest like
two proud cones of beckoning delight.
While the black-headed Kate at her side and Diana, from
her position behind the glass, gazed with admiring eyes,
the slim blonde tucked her fingers under the band of her
panties and slowly wiggled the nylon briefs downward,
over the youthful curve of her shapely hips and an
equally shapely pair of sleek, supple legs.
Holding her hands out, she summoned the younger girl to
her and their mouths joined once again. This time Kate's
slim, graceful fingers were given full rein to her
partner's body. Lightly her fingers fondled the smooth
texture surface of the unblemished skin. Downward they
traveled once again finding the tempting slopes of
jutting rear mounds.
She grasped, her hands squeezing into the softness of
the other girl's ass with almost brutal force. Heated,
red ass flesh squinched up between her fingers as she
kneaded the plump curves. Over and over, her eager hands
squeezed and moulded tightly into the pliant cushions.
Then her fingers were moving again - moving toward the
deep crease separating the firm buttocks. Taunting, her
fingertips toyed up and down the dark, tight-pressed
line. The naked girl pressed against the body of her
manipulator, trembling and tightening her hold on the
dark- haired beauty that teased excited thrills at her
bottom. The naked cones of her tits pushed hard against
her feminine lover, their firm shape flattening to balls
of resilient flesh.
Still exploring, the titillating fingers delved into the
dark crease. In determined fashion they twirled and
tickled, then there was a sharp plunge.
The naked blonde jerked rigid. Her mouth wrenched away
from her partner's. With urgency, she pressed against
the girl before her as if trying to mount her. Her red
young lips parted in a silent moan of lust-pleasure as
the still clothed girl's finger penetrated into the
tight confines of her anal mouth. She clung to the
black-haired girl as the spearing digit began to pump in
and out of her asshole.
Faster and faster the finger of the younger girl lunged
into the tight rectal pocket of her partner's rear. In
penis-imitating fashion, she worked her attack. In and
out she drilled into the volcanic fire of the squeezing
hole. Out and in, her finger speared toward the back
recesses of the ass she now possessed.
The long strands of blonde hair flew like a furious mist
of gold, as the older youth received every lancing
impact of the finger-fucking she was getting. Her head
rolled on her shoulders in wanton abandon. Her mouth was
open in a constant groan of growing lust.
In an almost subtle movement, the dark-haired girl
slipped her free hand from the ass it held and slid it
around to the soft blonde pubic moss covering the
exposed cunt that was open to her. With little or no
difficulty, she tickled a finger upward into the waiting
lips of the hungry pussy before her. Matching the rhythm
of her poling finger in the rear, she plowed into the
silken, wet vagina with her newly entrenched finger.
Doubly impaled and doubly fucked, the blonde's body was
one quake of trembling flesh. Her body rolled and ground
into the girl manipulating her desire. Her conical tits
rolled against the still partially clothed girl. Her
body glistened with excited perspiration. Her hands
clutched desperately at the girl's back, nails biting
into the whiteness of young flesh.
Her hips bucked back and forth trying to accept the dual
impalement simultaneously. Her body quaked and jerked as
she took the two fingers that slid into the liquid
warmth of her young snatch and the fiery channel of her
bowels at the same time. She rocked and writhed in her
standing position as if unable to get enough of the
double finger attack soon enough.
In and out the probing digits sluiced into her throbbing
pussy and drilled into her aching ass in unison. Out and
in, they blasted undeniable lust through her willing
body. In and out, they pumped through the pleasure-
pulsing portals of her near agony need.
In a fevered frenzy, she came, her body going rigid,
then collapsing into a mass of quivering, quaking flesh
caught in the fantastic throes of orgasmic satisfaction.
Trembling and clutching, her writhing body pressed
urgently against the girl who had brought such
prodigious gratification to her.
Somehow, as Diana still peered on from behind the
curtain, the younger Kate managed to lower her step-
sister to the side of the bed, gently caressing and
kissing her as the lovely blonde slowly descended from
the heights of pleasure she had been exploded into.
Diana quivered with growing arousal as she watched the
two girls. She had never before realized that the sight
of two women making it could be so exciting. While she
had often wondered what it would be like to have another
woman exploring her body, she had never allowed the
situation to occur, although during her first years in
college dormitory life had presented more than one such
chance.
Now as she stood as a voyeur to these two beautiful
young girls, she found her body reacting with undeniable
excitement. She almost felt the sleekness of their skin
against hers, their exploring hands and fingers on and
in her body.
Diana pulled the thin robe she wore closely to her. Not
so much to close out the chill that was still present,
but to keep her own hands from creeping to the wet cleft
of her loins to satisfy the growing need that flamed
within her.
Chapter 4
"She's a very pretty girl, Michael," Lorraine said
simply, as she maneuvered her stepson into the mansion's
library.
"Very attractive," Michael smiled, glancing at the older
woman. "She's everything I'd hoped to find in a woman,
attractive, intelligent and..."
"And sexual..." Lorraine's lips formed a coy, knowing
smile and her blue eyes flashed with sudden amusement.
Michael didn't answer, but moved away from his
stepmother, his eyes darting around him, surveying the
floor-to-ceiling shelves of books that lined the walls
of the Hightower library. His father was a collector,
This one room contained a small fortune in first
editions.
But Lorraine's mind was far from the rare volumes. "Your
telegram came as a surprise. We knew that you and Diana
were living together, but marriage?"
He twisted around to face the woman again. His eyes
widened, obviously irritated by her last remark.
But Lorraine ignored his reaction and pressed further,
"Does she know about the Hightowers?"
Michael's eyes glanced to the floor and he shook his
head, receiving a chuckle of growing amusement from the
woman.
"Your father and I had expected that you would have at
least brought Diana to meet us before you married her,"
Lorraine continued. "I'm disappointed in you."
"Why?" Michael snapped. "Why should I have brought Diana
here? I wouldn't have done it now, if it hadn't have
been for the trust."
The woman no longer chuckled, but laughed. Michael had
known this was going to happen. He should have tried to
avoid it, but he knew that that would have been
impossible. He had never been able to avoid Lorraine.
Never!
"Poor Michael, afraid his family will frighten off his
young bride," she laughed louder, the obviously
unconfined mounds of her breasts juggling freely beneath
the silky fabric of her caftan.
Damn! he silently cursed himself, as he felt the
familiar tightening of his groin. He shouldn't have let
this happen. But now that it was here, there was no way
of getting out of it.
"I'm sorry, Michael," his stepmother abruptly ceased her
laughter. "I didn't mean that. Please forgive me. It's
just that this is so unlike you. I don't understand."
The young man's dark eyes studied her, remembering and
trying to forget. "Things are different now, Lorraine.
Diana and I are starting a life together. The things
that happened here are... well, they're gone. They're
part of the past!"
"Are they, Michael?" she smiled gently, the blueness of
her eyes alive with a light of certainty. "Are you sure
it's gone? Just like that; just because you say it's
gone?"
"Yes, I'm sure," he nodded, lowering his eyes from hers
to escape her probing gaze and feeling more and more
uneasy by the moment.
The softness of her fingertips were on his cheek,
lightly caressing. His eyes rose to her again and that
confident smile on the fullness of her lips. There was
no denying that Lorraine was a beautiful woman, a fact
that had always drawn him and a fact that she had used
on him ever since her marriage to his father. He wanted
to escape her gaze, but she held him as she had always
held him.
"I don't think anything has changed, Michael. I don't
think you want anything to change," she whispered, her
head moving slowly toward him. "I think you want me as
much as you've always wanted me."
He moved his head away, but the fingers on his cheek
increased their pressure, easing his mouth back. Then
her lips were on his, teasing with a light brushing
quiver. She pressed harder, her tongue darting from her
mouth and flicking over his lips. But he held firm,
refusing her the entrance she wanted.
"Why are you fighting it?" she glanced up to him, when
she finally pulled away. There was hurt in her eyes; a
hurt that filled him with an aching hollowness. "It's
been a long time, Michael. I've been waiting for this. I
want it and I can feel that you want it as much as I
do."
She pressed her lips to his again. This time her arms
circled his back, pulling her body close so that the
heavy balls of her tits rolled against him, taunting him
with their cushiony softness. Her pelvis wedged its way
to his crotch, rubbing the plump mound of her pubis over
the rising length of his prick.
You're right, you hot bitch! he cursed his weakness, as
his mouth opened to accept the welcomed offering of her
probing oral digit. I never could refuse you! Never
could deny that exquisite cunt of yours!
Totally confident of herself now, her sureness boostered
by the thickening pole she had created in the crotch of
his jeans, her tongue drilled into her step-son's mouth,
swirling and twirling around his tongue. Her lips
pressed hard to his, forcing his mouth wider as she
tried to drive her oral digit down his throat. As his
arms closed around her, she moved her body, mashing her
breasts harder against his chest and greedily rubbing
the firm, fleshy mound of her sex over the solid rod of
cock straining out from his pants.
Enticing him into her mouth, her lips and teeth lightly
closed around his tongue. She sucked, as her pelvis
undulated into his, emphasizing what it was that she
wanted. She sucked, promising the oral delights she had
so expertly laved on his cock innumerable times in the
past. She sucked until a slight saline taste suffused
through her mouth, then she released his tongue and
their mouths parted.
"It has been a long time, hasn't it?" she smiled,
reveling in the feel of his young arms around her.
"Lorraine..." he began.
She interrupted whatever he had intended to say as her
mouth covered his again and the flickering flurry of her
tongue invaded his mouth once again, twisting with its
tantalizing gyrations. She parted from him only when she
felt his hips swaying with the sensuous rhythm of her
pelvis. And when her lips did leave his, she removed his
arms from around her and stepped back.
Her eyes glowed with the growing lust that coursed
through her body, as she reached behind her back and
found two small snaps and unclasped them. Then her
fingers discovered the zipper beneath and edged it down
its jagged-tooth path. Her smile of confidence widened
as she noticed that her stepson's eyes were riveted to
her every action, his no