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 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 whelped, 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 loost-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 preseminal 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 famly impaled on his lustshaft.

Then he relaxed and let the demanding waves of desire take his control and his body. Opalescent jets of burning come 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.