The Storm - Cover

The Storm

Copyright© 2003 by rlfj

Chapter 4

Incest Sex Story: Chapter 4 - A family finds safety during a blizzard. Over the next few days they discover the exact nature of their rescue, and how it will change their lives.

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Romantic   Drunk/Drugged   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Incest   Mother   Sister   Father   Daughter   Swinging   Group Sex   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism  

Anita thought the term ‘Great Room’ really didn’t apply to the dining and living rooms. It was larger than their entire first floor back home and lofted up to the second story to a cathedral ceiling. A stone fireplace dominated one wall of the room. The parlor was much cozier, being off the foyer to one side. An interesting feature, she thought, was the bar against the front of the parlor, which had a walk-thru to another bar on the back wall of the Great Room.

Cory and Laurie were awed by their surroundings. The most common words out of their mouths, once they started exploring were “Wowww!” spoken to each other, and “You gotta see this!” once they were joined by their parents.

Once they had come into the Great Room, Malcolm had announced it was time for some supper. “I know that you’re probably quite tired, but I must insist. You’ve had quite a close call with exposure, the doctor prescribes some soup.” He nodded at Reeves, standing near him, and the butler left towards the kitchen. “Now, John, you take that end of the table, and I will take this end. These lovely ladies will flank me, and our beautiful wives will flank you.” He stepped to the side and pulled a chair out next to his head of the table. Laurie moved faster than her sister and plopped down in it. Her eyes sparkled as Malcolm pushed her into place. “Well, that seems to be settled,” he commented, and helped Cory to a seat facing her twin.

“Do you normally dine this late?” asked Anita. An ornate grandfather clock in the corner showed that it was almost nine-thirty.

“Hardly,” said Caroline. “But Malcolm is right. You must get some nourishment, and it would hardly be fitting to simply send you off to the scullery to see what you can find.”

“Soup is definitely called for,” finished Malcolm. “It’s quick, it’s simple, easily digested, full of vitamins, protein, and all those good things the people at Campbell’s have been telling us about. I asked Phoebe, she’s our cook, you see, to warm up something she made the other day.”

Just then, a swinging door opened, and Reeves stepped through holding a crystal pitcher of ice water. He held the door for a small and dumpy woman carrying a large tureen. She set it with a surly manner in the center of the table before Malcolm, removed the lid, and then retired, muttering. Steam rose from the surface of the dark brown liquid within. Reeves moved around the table, filling water goblets.

“You’ll have to excuse Phoebe’s moods,” said Caroline. “She may be a bit of a grump, but she makes up for it in the kitchen.”

“It smells delicious,” said Anita. Suddenly, the foursome forgot their fatigues. It had been hours since they had last eaten, and they now realized they were famished. The mood was broken when Phoebe slammed back into the room with a large basket of warm and freshly baked bread and a dish of butter. She unceremoniously dropped these on the table and stormed out again.

“Yes, but still,” said Malcolm looking behind him as the door swung shut. “Reeves, perhaps you can calm her down some. And bring the wine, won’t you? Thank you.” Turning back to the amused group before him, he picked up a ladle and announced, “Beef and barley. Caroline, can you pass the bread? I think I could do with a bowl, also.”

To himself, Malcolm thought of a different reason he was smiling. Far from being grumpy, Phoebe was acting. When ‘Uniform B’ was announced, she went out of her way to change into something ugly, frumpy, and mean. Tonight, she wore a shapeless white cafeteria uniform with an oversized apron. Her hair was done up in a bun on top of her head. She wore opaque white stockings, and what Malcolm had to believe were the most hideous white orthopedic shoes ever created. All she needed now was a hair net and she would be the perfect high school ‘lunch lady’. Previous efforts had included takeoffs on Hazel and Alice from TV fame, and a truly wretched Russian babushka. He dreaded to think what her next creation would involve. He knew Phoebe to be the most exotic creature in the household. Barely five-foot-tall, she had a nineteen-inch wasp-waist, a large firm ass, wide hips, and soft and delicious DD cup breasts. In addition, she would gleefully take on anyone, any man, any woman, any time, any place, any orifice. And creative? Just two weeks ago, Reeves had announced that dessert would be in the small parlor. He and Caroline had gone there to find Phoebe lying naked on the coffee table, her generous breasts and bare shaved pudenda liberally covered in whipped cream. They had dined well that evening, to be sure.

At first, the meal was silent, as the Andrews dug with gusto into their soup. But while Malcolm was refilling Laurie’s bowl, she asked him, “Did you build this place yourself?”

He handed back her bowl. “If you mean, did I personally build it, then no, I didn’t. The last hammer I held was a bone hammer, some twenty-odd years ago. If you mean, did I order it built, then again, I must say no. I bought it and had it added on to.”

Cory piped up, “What’s a bone hammer?” then drained her wine glass. When Reeves had brought back the wine, she and Laurie had noticed that in addition to their water goblets, they had matching wine glasses. Malcolm had asked their mother if they could have some. She had relented to the extent of a single glass apiece.

“Hmm, what’s that Cory?” said Malcolm turning to her. Seeing her empty glass, he naturally refilled it.

“Cory, I said one glass only,” said Anita.

“Oh, dear, my mistake Anita,” said Malcolm contritely. “Old habit I’m afraid.”

“Please, Mom, can’t we have just one more glass?” pleaded Cory.

“Please Mom?” chimed in her sister.

“If I might say, Anita, it’s not like you’re going anywhere in the morning,” said Caroline.

Anita rolled her eyes to the ceiling. The glass had already been poured, after all. “All right, but only one more.”

“Great!” said Laurie. She drained her own glass and held it out for seconds. Malcolm chuckled as he refilled her glass as well. “So, what’s a bone hammer?”

“Oh, yes. A bone hammer is a hammer, oh, about yay long, or so,” he replied, estimating the distance with his hands. “that an orthopedic surgeon uses to chip and break bones.”

“Are you really a doctor?” asked Cory.

“Sort of.”

“Well, you are, or you aren’t. Which is it?” she pressed.

“Well, I have an MD degree from Stanford, so that makes me a doctor. But before you can get your license to practice medicine you have to complete an internship and a residency. I went into biochemical research instead. It’s sort of like a Ph.D., actually. I’m no more a doctor than a doctor of biology or chemistry, really.”

At the other end of the table, a separate conversation was going on. Caroline looked at John and said, “Now, I understand how your car went off the road and you ended up here, but what in the world were you doing on this road to begin with?”

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