A Whore For The Whole Family

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 rape 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
children, 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 children 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 seventeen. 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 child 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 animal 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.

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