Rochester Mansion- The Complete Series

by Jason Hutchinson

  “Bedroom’s at the top right.” He said, slapping her hard on the ass and seeing a slight redness creep up in the shape of his fingers.

  Lisa’s eyes flashed at him as she turned her head, not with anger or annoyance, but with something more akin to a trance state, her head nodding as if she wanted to assure him she would obey even though her voice wasn’t able to make the words.

  Mike shucked off his shoes and pants as he watched the beautiful MILF climb the remaining steps and head rapidly towards the magically-completed bedroom.

  Chapter Four

  Mike woke early to find his new model lover sleeping, her head on his stomach, as if she had fallen asleep waiting for the opportunity to pounce on any nocturnal erection he might have experienced. The last thing Mike had remembered before drifting off was pushing her head towards the root of his shaft as his cum poured in spasming waves down her throat as she lay curled nude next to him.

  Lisann was sleeping hard and Mike found it easy enough to slip out from beneath her, heading to the bathroom to both relieve himself and take a shower.

  “That all really happened.”

  He said it out loud as if that made it somehow even more real. What it did was remind him that if he agreed, an undisclosed number of other models would be released upon his home and his cock, most likely, by the end of the day or the next at the latest.

  The hot water and the thought of it rejuvenated him and by the time he turned of the fog-inducing torrent, his body was telling him that it wasn’t completely done with Lisann Chavez.

  “Are you awake?” He whispered, coming back into the bedroom. He didn’t get a response, but that fact became quickly unimportant as he noticed she had tossed off the covers in her sleep. He stared at her for far longer than he would ever admit, one hand stroking his cock that had no business being ready for another round.

  She woke as he pulled her by her thighs towards the edge of the bed, her body pliant and willing as he pushed her knees back where she grabbed them with her own hands. Wordlessly, he buried his mouth in her flesh for the second time, driving his tongue deep into the wet caress of her folds as she moaned his name softly from above. She was delicious and her body was thrillingly responsive to his. One flick of her clit with his tongue sent goosebumps flying; a nip of his teeth at that same bud made her entire body shudder in pleasure.

  “Cum for me, Lisann.” He whispered in the only brief respite from his attentions she would receive before she obeyed his orders.

  “Yes, Sir.” She groaned, pulling her legs back farther, opening up her tightly-puckered ass to his tongue’s attention as well. It was perfection, and Mike’s mouth couldn’t have been happier.

  As he pleasured her, he tried to recount how many times he had cum the previous evening. Somehow, it had been another gift of the house. He knew that the tight channel between those perfect breasts had coaxed out one load, splashing against her chin and dappling her cheeks and lips as she laughed playfully. He remembered at least two that had flooded her tight pussy to the point of overflowing; once from behind as she had her own simultaneous orgasm and the other with those long, muscular legs wrapped tightly around his back as she stared into his eyes. The load down her throat right before he gave up the fight against sleep had been one of at least two between those heavenly lips.

  Lisann’s own orgasms had worn her out as well. By the time Mike’s mouth worked the first climax of the morning from her tired body, it was soft and sensual, a shadow of the fire and fury of the previous evening but with no less passion and desire.

  “Thank you, thank you.” She whispered over and over as he came up for air, smiling.

  Mike left her there as he returned to the bathroom. She was still in the same position when he returned. He hadn’t told her to do otherwise.

  His fingers traced her inner thigh as he watched the look of tired longing on her face. “Are you ready to serve me one more time before I send you on your way?”

  The gorgeous Latina MILF nodded. “Anything for you.”

  “I’m going to let you do your photoshoot, so I want you to arrange that for as soon as possible.”

  “Thank you.” She whispered. “But I only want to please you.”

  “Oh, it’ll please me.” Mike responded, reaching back to the dresser as he slid between her legs. “I want you to bring me as many lovelies as you can and we’ll make sure they have that certain glow about them when Declan takes their pictures. The glow you have right now.”

  “Serving you makes me glow.” Lisann said as the blush crept over her face. “How can I serve you again, Sir?”

  “I’ve already fucked that hot little mouth of yours. I’ve fucked those perfect tits and I’ve put enough cum in that tight pussy to fill you twice over.”

  Lisann looked up at him in a near panic before the realization dawned on her. Her face turned from sadness to a wicked smile. “I guess all I have left to offer you is my ass.”

  It put up little resistance as Mike’s cock speared past its tight embrace and into the hot confines of her bowels.

  Chapter Five

  On Mike’s second trip into the secret chamber within the secret chamber beneath the stairs of Rochester Mansion, he found the book. Parts of it read like a diary and parts of it read like a spell book of some sorts, but he didn’t have much time to go over it. Lisann’s enthusiastic text had assured him that Declan Smythe would be over in the afternoon to scout out the rest of his shots while she would be renting a limousine to pick up the models at the airport. Mike wished the tables would have been turned, but the free morning at least gave him the opportunity to look around the secret chambers again.

  “Cyril Rochester.” Mike read. The first of the entries in the journal section were apparently written by the namesake of the house, and he was quite the character. Though the script was old and hard to read, he caught many references to experiments and spirits, though the latter seemed to refer to the ‘spirit of the hill.’

  The Rochester name only went through one more owner before the secret of the house passed to another owner, though it was possible it went through many that had either never triggered its magic or were somehow deemed unworthy, which was mentioned a few times in the text.

  On the last marked pages were entries from a “Will Robinson”, making Mike snicker a bit at the thought of the famous phrase from the long-lost television show. They were pretty modern, even including some emoticons at points. Unfortunately, they didn’t shed any light on what had happened to him. It didn’t shed any light on any of them, for that matter. Why would anyone give up something like this, he thought? Previous ones could have been simply due to age, though the last one seemed like a younger person. Anyone using emoticons ten years ago would normally still be alive, right?

  The thoughts troubled him, but he didn’t want to spend too much time on them. He flipped through the spell section. Most were poetry. Simple rhyming couplets if he remembered his college correctly. He’d ask Aimee if she knew any of them or recognized what time period they came from. He was about to carry the book out with him when he thought better of it. Best to leave it where it wouldn’t be discovered, especially with a bunch of strangers parading through the house, no matter how beautiful they might be.

  Snowfall binds and larder feeds,

  Fulfil what my requirement needs.

  It was the simplest one he could find and was simply titled ‘Requirement.’ Mike repeated it in his head a few times before closing the book back into its hiding place and making his way back to the surface.

  Chapter Six

  Okay, so Smythe did have an eye for a sexy photograph. Rachel Shane’s honey-blonde hair fell gracefully over her bare shoulders as the straps of her flowing dress lay tight against her upper arms, just below the freckled curves of her shoulders. The sexy-innocence of her look and her pose contrasted beautifully with the stark desolation of the back mudroom. Sun glinted in though the still-cracked stained-glass windows, setting her beauty alight with e
erie reflections and colors.

  Mike stood in the doorway to the servants’ pantry, watching the star photographer bring the best beauty and sensuality out of his gorgeous young model. Rachel Shane was a relative newcomer on the scene. The blue-eyed beauty was the cliché girl-next-door and even that didn’t detract a bit from her appeal. He listened to her soft voice as she responded to the photographer. It was the strongest he’d felt for any of the women who had suddenly entered his life over the past couple of weeks aside from Aimee. Not just as far as looks went. She was gorgeous, but that wasn’t it. Some sort of inner glow drew him towards her the same way he had always been driven towards his ex-wife’s step-daughter.

  “And that will probably do it, my dear.” Declan said, grinning; though it appeared he was talking more to the DSLR than to the pretty model at the other end of the lens. She had been the first to arrive. A visibly flushed Lisann had introduced her to Mike before making the return trip in the limousine to the airport to pick up the next pair of beauties.

  Rachel looked to Smythe for further guidance, but the little man was reviewing shots in the tiny screen attached to the camera. She turned towards Mike as she walked out of the room.

  “Thanks so much for letting us use your house, Mr…”

  “Mike.” It was all Lisann had used by way of introduction.

  “Mike.” Rachel smiled. “The house is really cool.”

  “It was a great deal.” Mike said, realizing it was the understatement of a lifetime. “Can I get you something to drink or something?”

  The blonde smiled, wrapping her arm into his. “Lead the way, Mr. Mike.” She said, a smile practically dripping from her sweet voice, despite the fact that he wasn’t looking at her face.

  He led her into the kitchen and turned on the taps. They sputtered for a second, then started banging like a jackhammer stuck in the on position. Rachel laughed as she covered her ears. Mike shut it off, but not before he heard an outraged ‘what the fuck was that?’ from the mudroom.

  “Bad pipes.” Mike said. “Were you guys bringing supplies or catering or something? I think the water’s a bust for today.”

  “Ya think?” Rachel laughed, the sound contagious enough for him to join her.

  “If you want you can run into town and get some stuff. Put it on Lisann’s bill. I don’t think the caterer is coming until tomorrow morning and we’re only going to have two more models today.”

  “Sure, that sounds great.” Mike shouted, then turned and spoke softer to the blonde. “Anything to get away from that guy.”

  Rachel tittered again. “He is a great photog, but kind of a douchebag.”

  “That fits.” Mike said. “Where did you say you were from, anyway?”

  “I didn’t, but Lincoln, for what it’s worth.”

  “Nebraska?”

  “That’s the one. Hey Declan, when are you going to need me again?”

  There was a long pause. “Probably not till the morning, Doll. Lisann can take you to the hotel when she gets back.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “I’m going with Mike to the store then.” She called out.

  There was no response.

  “If that’s okay with you, of course.”

  Mike took her hand and put it back through his arm. “Can’t see how I can turn down an offer like that.” He said.

  With a grin and a new lightness to his step, he led Rachel Shane out through the kitchen side-door, giving her an impromptu tour of the weed garden that he jokingly said would someday be flowers and vegetables.

  Maybe sooner than later, he thought, considering the ability of the house to rejuvenate itself.

  Chapter Seven

  “This has been fun, Rachel.” Mike said, opening the little folder the waitress dropped off. He signed his name before retrieving his credit card and closing it up again. “Do you want me to drop you off at your hotel?”

  “You can take me there…sure.” She said with a smile, rising from the chair. The diner wasn’t much to speak of, but it was his favorite and he could tell it had suited the small-town girl just fine. Arguments could be made that Lincoln wasn’t a small town anymore, but he figured she was probably from somewhere on the outskirts like Beatrice or Papillion. She’d taken to a chicken fried steak like he never would have imagined a model with her figure would have. It endeared her to him even more. The conversation had mostly distracted him from other thoughts that were troubling him. She hadn’t seemed to have had the same reaction to the house as every other woman who had been inside. He was getting some vibes that she liked him, but nothing like the unadulterated submission of Tiff or Aimee.

  There was pretty much only one decent hotel in town, though he texted Lisann to verify even as he started off in that direction, trying not to glance too often at the hem of Rachel’s dress; or more realistically, what lay beneath it. The cute freckles must cover her from head to toe, he thought, shifting into fourth gear.

  During the short trip, Rachel was just getting into the recounting of a story from her high-school years, which couldn’t have been very far past. “You want to come up? I can finish my story, but the minibar is calling me, right?” She said, leaning back in through the open window.

  Mike laughed, pulling out of the drop-off lane and swinging around a taxi before finding a relatively decent spot in the parking lot.

  By the time he returned, the young beauty was already signing autographs, though she pulled her head up out of the throng just as Mike came back up. The smile on her face was charming and enthusiastic. “Thought you’d have to take a shuttle bus or something.” She laughed. “I’m dying for a drink.”

  She reached out and grabbed him by the fingertips with her own and let him almost pull her from the throng. His eyes caught a pair of emerald-green ones staring back at him.

  Shit.

  Mike felt his body tense up a bit.

  “Who was that?” Rachel said as they made it to the elevator. The doors slid shut as shut as she pushed the button, keycard in hand.

  Mike sighed. “A friend of my wife.”

  “Oh…” Rachel breathed.

  “Sorry, ex-wife.” Mike corrected himself. “Eliza. It’s only been a year and habits are hard to break.”

  Rachel’s body softened along with her face. “That’s actually pretty sweet, if you ask me. Her idea?”

  “Wasn’t exactly mine.” Mike said. “She got the house, I got…”

  “But you’ve got a great house!”

  Mike laughed. “That was kind of a fluke.”

  The doors slid open with a ping and Rachel led the way down the hallway. “Now that’s a story I’ve got to hear.” She said, sliding her key in the lock.

  The door clicked and she turned the handle.

  Maybe it’s just affecting her a different way, Mike thought. She’s kind of being flirty and she has invited me up to her room. Just got to cross the threshold and I’ll be in Shangri-la.

  Threshold.

  “Hey, what did you think of the main foyer of the house?” Mike asked as she threw her bag down on the little desk.

  Rachel turned and cocked her head to one side. “You know, I don’t think I saw it. Declan took me around back. He must have been as enamored of your weed garden as you are.”

  She laughed as she bent down and pulled open the door of the mini bar. “What are you drinking?”

  They had left through the kitchen, Mike thought. The front door must be the key to the effect the house has on women.

  But that would mean…

  “You know, you’re a really sweet guy, Mike.”

  Mike caught the mini bourbon bottle as she tossed it to him.

  Chapter Eight

  Goth.

  Was there a newer term?

  Mike wasn’t sure, but the heavily tatted girl with the pink hair certainly would have been someone he would have described as goth. Maybe Emo? No, too badass to be Emo, he thought. Whatever niche she fit into, she was certainly hot enough, and the fiery redhead cr
awling all over her on his bed was a force to be reckoned with herself.

  “I hope you don’t mind.” Declan said, between the electronic click of the faux shutter sound on his camera. “I wanted to get a shot in one of the finished rooms as well. Outstanding job, by the way.”

  “The house guides me, mostly.” Mike threw out, offhanded.