Rochester Mansion- The Complete Series

by Jason Hutchinson

  Chapter Two

  Mike stumbled out of the hidden stairwell and sealed it back up, hiding it from the insistent knocking and ringing at the front door. With Aimee out of town, about the only person he could imagine it being was his ex, Eliza. Had she found out about him and Aimee? There wasn’t anything technically wrong with it. They weren’t at all related. There was that bit about being the daughter of Eliza’s new husband, though. He had some strong words prepared for such an occasion, but was more startled by the woman he met at the door.

  “Daniel, he’s here!” The woman called out to the side of the house. Just then, he saw a rather dapper and effeminate man through one of the windows, heading back towards the door.

  “Can I help you with something?” Mike asked, annoyed. “Look, I don’t have any…”

  The brunette smiled at him. “Well, if you don’t have any money, then perhaps you should let us in; since that’s what we’re here about.”

  She was gorgeous and Mike was having a hard time taking his eyes off her. Her skin showed off her Hispanic heritage beautifully. Her curves were something exaggerated out of a movie, which is where he recognized her from.

  “You’re Lisann Chavez, aren’t you?” Mike asked.

  The perfect MILF gave a smile that was accompanied by a bit of a blush. “You’re a fan?”

  Fan wasn’t the word Mike had in mind, but he agreed with her. She couldn’t act her way out of a paper bag, but she did look just fine inside one, figuratively. She’d been a fodder for his masturbation since his teenage years, and age had somehow made her even better in person.

  “I’m sorry, did you want to come in?”

  The brunette beauty stepped over the threshold of Rochester mansion and gasped as she looked around. Mike’s eyes followed hers and weren’t too surprised that now the entryway had been finished as well.

  That odd pulsing wave flooded through him again. It had been the same with Aimee, the same with Tiff; one time for each female that had entered the house since he had owned it.

  “I’m still working on it.” Mike said, with a nod to the headlamp on his head. He slipped it off and deposited it on a side table.

  “It looks amazing!”

  The voice was from her companion, just entering the front door. No pulse.

  “Sorry, Mike, is it?” Lisann said, gesturing to the new arrival. “Declan Smythe. He’ll be out photographer.”

  She turned to Mike. “I guess, that is, if you agree to let us do a photoshoot around your beautiful home?”

  Mike was still a little overwhelmed with her presence. “The upstairs isn’t finished, other than the master bedroom and a bath.”

  “That’s fine.” Lisann said, touching his arm. “The models don’t mind. It might be interesting to have some poses in an unfinished room, to get a sort of before and after effect highlighting your work.”

  “Models?” Mike mumbled.

  Lisann laughed. “Well, we didn’t bring them along, but once you’ve agreed, they can be here on the next flight.” She looked at his face. “It’s a game I leave to the younger crowd.”

  “I’m not sure why.”

  Declan Smythe laughed. “A flatterer. Just your type, Lisann.”

  Mike looked back to the model, catching her eyes wandering back up to his own from wherever they had drifted.

  “Flattery gets you places.” She said with a twist of a smile that Mike could tell was being closely guarded.

  “Do you mind if I look around?” Declan said, clearing his throat slightly first to gain the floor and break the deadlocked gaze that might have continued to awkwardness.

  Mike broke away, meeting the other man’s impatient face. “Go right ahead. I mean…” The words fell away as the photographer was already climbing the grand staircase.

  Lisann’s hand touch his arm and set the fine hairs on end. “I’m sold.” She said. “He’s just scouting shots at this point. I’m pretty much willing to offer whatever it takes to seal the deal on this one, trust me.”

  Her head arched up, looking at the gabled ceiling, freeing her long, wavy black tresses from her back as gravity took them. Mike’s own brain was replaying what she had just said, to the backdrop of a seventies guitar riff. Feeling the sudden redirection of blood flow below his waistline, he shut it off with the scratch of a phonograph. Fitting, really. While the thought of having a bevy of beautiful models, not the least of which Lisann herself, wandering semi-clad around the mansion was a beautiful one, what if something happened? What if one of them caught on to the weird goings-on? It would be pretty suspicious if one of them were exploring one of the unfinished areas of the house when it decided to return on its own to its former glory.

  Mike steadied himself. There were plenty of women, especially with Aimee around. “I’m just not sure I’m ready to have a bunch of people touring through.” He said. “There’s still some parts of the house that are quite dangerous.”

  A lie, but not a big one. There was still a hole in the floor of the upstairs guest room, but a sheet of plywood was covering that one completely.

  “I’m used to getting my way, you know.” Lisann said, running her fingertips along the bannister of the grand staircase. One long, tanned leg was on a higher step, fully accentuating her perfect calves.

  Mike tried to laugh. “I bet you are.”

  Chapter Three

  The voices in the room shut down all at once, leaving him with nothing but the sound of the wind buffeting the shutters he obviously hadn’t nailed down firmly enough the previous week. The circle on the television screen looped around and around.

  “Fucking Internet.” He sighed.

  For being right at the top of a giant hill with no other houses around, his Internet reception sucked. Not being able to get cable was the issue and the cable company wasn’t hearing it. Too much build-out cost and Mike wasn’t about to pay it, either. It was as if the house was telling him that he had better things to do.

  He didn’t.

  Aimee was out of town and he still needed to buy supplies for the next stages of restoration.

  But why bother?

  That was the thought that crossed his mind as he descended the staircase towards the kitchen. Why bother spending money fixing the place up when it’s just going to turn around and fix itself up better than he could ever do?

  “What is the deal with you, anyway?” He asked as his palm curled around the railing; the same one that had taken a bite of him a few days earlier. “Just out to help me get my dick wet?”

  Mike chuckled as he reached the bottom landing, just as there was a knock on the door.

  “The fuck is it now?” Mike sighed. It wasn’t as if he had full-blown Asperger’s, but he had already had just about as much social for the day as he could handle. Lisann had spent an hour trying to convince him to open his house up to her magazine while the insufferable leprechaun Smythe had wandered about making him nervous. They had finally left after he had promised to give it some thought and regroup in the morning.

  The thud of the door unbolting echoed trough the main entranceway, though it was completely overpowered by the creak of the door as he pulled it open.

  “This isn’t about the photoshoot, I promise.” Lisann said as Mike’s eyes inevitably scoped her from head to toe.

  She looked perfectly normal.

  It’s not that he was expecting otherwise, but the business-like attire was gone and she was perfectly natural. Tight jeans, though not garishly so, and a button-down flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her forearms completed the picture created by her clean-scrubbed face and low-key hairstyle. Mike was speechless.

  “Can I come in?” She asked, smiling up at him.

  Mike parsed each word like they were in a foreign language. “Uh…sure…I…”

  Lisann Chavez stepped over the threshold and right into Mike’s personal space.

  “Can I kiss you?”

  The question must have been a rhetorical one, because she immediatel
y went up to her toes and pressed her full lips against his. Mike’s mind swirled for a moment before his body performed a coup and resolved to act independently. His arm circled around the small of her back, pulling her luscious body into him as her tongue worked its way into his mouth.

  Mike heard the front door close with a thump, though he didn’t consciously remember shutting it. What thoughts he was able to conjure were mostly attempts to process the sensory input that was being provided. Lisann’s body was like clay, conforming to his own as he pulled her in tighter and tighter, nearly lifting her off the ground as he stepped backwards into the main foyer. A minute later, the kiss broke and she stared up at him with rich, chocolate-brown eyes.

  “Please. This has nothing to do with the magazine.” She repeated.

  Mike was struggling to understand. He wasn’t opposed to a bit of bribery, at least of this sort. Is that wrong? The thought was cut off by her speaking again, though those eyes were getting farther and farther away as she knelt in front of him.

  “I want to be yours. I want to make you happy.” She said. The sound of desperation in her voice was like something out of one of her movies.

  “I don’t know what to say.” Mike said.

  He had spent a lot of time thinking about the ramifications of the weird events in the house. Aimee did love him and wanted to please him. She was the happiest he had ever seen her and the daily glow about her was evident. It had to be wrong somehow, but as much as he agonized over it, he couldn’t find it.

  Mike didn’t have an opportunity to think about it too long. As he looked back down at the stunning brunette at his feet, he felt his cock spring free from his pants at the nimble urging of her fingers. It slipped between those honey-slick lips almost immediately, as if they were performing a magic act that even the house couldn’t compete with. Her head bobbed back and forth, those magical lips performing a spell on his throbbing shaft as they traced every contour; relentlessly pleasuring him and sending a chill down his spine before he could barely understand what was happening.

  She was submissively in charge, in a way. One hand that was pressed against his thigh relinquished its position in order to find his own, lifting it limply from its position of non-belief and depositing it snugly against the back of her head.

  It pressed against his own, forcing the aching tip of his cock deeper between those beautiful lips and into the tight entrance of her throat as her brown eyes gazed up in approval as they quickly began to water. On and on she pressed until his own muscles took over on their own, unwilling to pass up the opportunity to feel those lips nuzzling sweetly against the base of his shaft.

  “Fuck.” Mike whispered.

  His other hand joined its mate as he pressed her down further, feeling the spasm of a gag as he finally bottomed out in her throat, though he felt no resistance. There was no hint of her trying to pull back. All her effort seemed focused on keeping those gorgeous eyes in contact with his as she served him.

  “You want to serve me?” He grunted, watching for the slight, yet distinct nod of his Latina goddess’s head. He watched his hands do their work as if they were outside entities, and in a way, they were. Mike eased his cock out of her throat, then back in again, driving her lips back to the base of his cock. By the time it was a steady motion, sawing back and forth, he had had an epiphany.

  This is what is happening, he thought. This is the way things are and I’m not willing to stop them. It’s time to stop being an unwilling or inhibited participant and really get things working.

  Mike pulled his hips back, his cock erupting from Lisann’s lips with a pop that likely could be heard from outside. The woman’s mouth was incredible, but he knew the last thing he wanted to do was to let this incredible tryst end without exploring every inch of her voluptuous body.

  “Up.” Mike grunted, pulling her up by the hand. The former model obeyed immediately, following him quickly as he led her to the stairs and up the first few. “Take your clothes off as you go up.”

  Lisann looked at him over her shoulder, the playful smile enough to keep his protruding cock hard even without those talented hands moving quickly to the top button of her shirt, making quick work of each as she climbed one stair, then another. Before she had mounted a half-dozen, she was tugging the shirt out from the waistband of her jeans, shrugging it down her shoulders to reveal the wide strap of bra required to hold back the massive breasts he was already picturing engulfing his slick cock.

  With a delayed step, the heel of one boot slid the other down her sexy ankle as she braced herself against the bannister. Skillful toes repeated the process on the other and Mike brushed them out of the way as he ascended behind her, watching that gorgeous hair swish across her latte-hued back as those hips swayed in the opposite direction.

  The blue jeans took a complete stop, but the process was no less sexy. With the trained moves of a dancer, she bent at the waist, her hands lingering behind at the waistband to peel them off over her deliciously full ass a bit at a time, until they were stranded in a puddle around her ankles. Mike’s eyes were at the junction of those beautiful cheeks, a dark, inviting spot beneath her panties that seemed to clamor for his attention in the brief moments before she stepped forward, each foot leaving behind the jeans; abandoning them where they lay.

  “Stop there.” Mike said, hearing his voice echo with a more masculine timbre than he had ever mustered as she reached the middle landing.

  He rose to meet her, gazing downwards from those heavenly eyes to her perfect figure, the swell of her breasts giving way to tight abs, a jeweled belly-button, and spreading hips that cried out to be grasped. He circled around behind her as her eyes tried to follow him, but he stopped her as he turned those hips to face the vast chamber a dozen or more feet below them. It was the stairs that somehow started all of this and he was going to honor them.

  Lisann leaned forward instinctually as Mike’s hands gripped her hips tightly, his cock bouncing up and down on the blue, satiny fabric of her panties as his fingers started to journey downwards. With little patience and an overabundance of animal instinct, one hand hooked up under her right knee, lifting it as his other hand pulled the fabric roughly to one side.

  “You want this dick?” He groaned. It was Mike’s last vestige of his old life. The consent was already obvious, but he still needed to ask for it. In an answer out of an adult movie, Lisann’s graceful leg stretched out of his reach, her toes pointing in graceful beauty until the heel reached the level of the rail.

  She jutted that perfect ass out at him and the first waft of her scent hit his nostrils like a concentrated assault of pheromones. “I want you to destroy me with that dick.” She cried, the words more of a desperate scream that those of a strong-willed and shrewd businesswoman.

  Mike’s cock surged forward as if it had grown an extra two inches. Still wet from her entrancing mouth and guided by her own excited flesh, it pressed into her quickly, stretching her willing flesh quickly as he filled her. She gasped audibly, the sound echoing down the stairs like running water.

  His heart stopped, as if to give his mind a moment to process the incredible sensation of being inside the woman he had fantasized about so many times. How was it possible that she could feel so tight? There seemed to be no difference between the clutch of her tantalizing flesh and that of Aimee’s, despite a nearly twenty-year gap in their ages. He looked down to see his fingers digging into the perfect cheeks of her ass, the contrast of her dark skin and his pressure-whitened digits worthy of one of Declan Smythe’s gallery photographs. They were spread perfectly, allowing his cock in to the hilt almost immediately, despite the tightness of the channel.

  “Oh my God!” Lisann cried out. “Oh my God! Please! Please fuck me.”

  The last few syllables repeated over and over as if she was stuck in a loop, though the volume and the coherence of each deteriorated over time as Mike started fucking her.

  I’m fucking Lisann Chavez.

  The thought was so
bizarre he almost tried saying it out loud, though he quickly decided he wasn’t quite ready for that. What he was ready for was keeping with the task at hand. Her hands were gripping the railing with her head in between as it buffeted back and forth. Mike wondered if an observer below would see those perfect tits jutting through the balusters.

  Busty balusters, he thought, a smile crossing his face.

  By the time Lisann’s cries of pleasure turned to the throes of orgasm, Mike’s ears were focused on the wet slapping sound between their bodies. The rhythmic smacks were music to his ears, though the volume soon turned up on the moans of the object of his desire. Fluid gushed around his cock as her body practically bucked in orgasm, each thrust of his cock bringing about more and more that he could feel soaking into the front of his pants. Her one supporting knee seemed to be about to buckle so he pulled her leg down off the railing, thrusting in and out a few more times as he wrapped his hands around her chest, pulling her into him as he continued driving his cock in and out of her body from behind. When he finally extracted his cock from her body, she slumped forward, barely catching the bannister before she fell to the floor.