Chapter 5

Christine stopped at the gate and waited, knowing it wouldn't be long. It wasn't. The door to the guard shack opened and Jon, the day shift Head of Security, stepped toward the car.

"Hello, Ms. McCarver," he said after Christine rolled down the window.

"Hi, Jon. I thought I told you to call me Christine."

"You did, and your Dad wants me to call you 'Ms. McCarver', and he signs the checks," Jon said as coolly as if he were reading the phonebook. "You aren't on the list today."

"It's a surprise."

"Well, they'll be happy to see you," Jon signaled toward the shack and the gate opened. "Good to see you again, Ms. McCarver... same to you, Lisa."

Christine watched as Jon walked away. An ex-Marine, he was tall, strong, erect, good looking. He was great at what he did. He was unfailingly polite and courteous but able to maintain his "my way or the highway" presence. There'd been a time, not so long ago, when she'd sent out every signal she could think of to let him know she was interested. He'd picked up on everyone of those signals and declined every opportunity because he was too professional to mix business and pleasure.

The thought of it sickened her now. She had nothing against Jon. She liked him as a person and she was grateful to have him protecting her family. But the idea of being with him, or any other man, was out of the question. Prof. Sawyer had seen to that, Prof. Sawyer had shown her the truth. As she shifted the car into gear, she snuck a look at Lisa, who'd taken a run of her own at Jon. The "what were we thinking" look on her face said everything.

The house was set hundreds of yards off the road. Christine parked in the space directly across from the kitchen and the two let themselves in. A tall, thin girl stood at the sink washing dishes.

"Hey Pam," Christine said.

"Hey!" Pam looked surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Just felt like a visit," Christine replied. "You remember my friend Lisa?"

"Sure. Nice to see you again."

Christine appraised the maid's daughter. As with Jon, it was with all new eyes. Only two years older than Christine, Pam was 5'10" with stylish black hair between short and medium length and green eyes. Her facial features were delicate, doll like, with high cheek bones, button nose and wide mouth. The neck was long and graceful. Her shoulders were broad and lean, the foundation for a pair of firm, upturned, separated breasts. The lines of her torso curved elegantly through her ass and into her legs. Christine liked what she saw.

"You Mom here today?"

Pam rolled her eyes, "Sick. She's got a cold but she's convinced she's got the bird flu thing. She probably spent the day making funeral arrangements."

Christine laughed, "So who is here?"

"Your Mom and Dad, definitely," Pam answered. "I saw your sister and some friend of hers earlier, but I have no idea if they are still here."

"Okay, we'll go find them. Later." Christine and Lisa stepped into the hall. "First thing's first... inventory."

The two went through the house, confirming the only people in the building were Christine's Mom, Dad, sister Darla and Darla's friend Maggie, as well as Pam. That settled, the two retreated to the basement where the network room was located. The entire house had been wired for Ethernet and sound, with everything converging on a single server which stored music and data and routed all traffic. Christine withdrew the control sphere Prof. Sawyer had given her from her bag, connected it to the system with a CAT-5 cable, and turned it on. There was a phone in the room; she called down to the front gate.

"Jon, is anyone scheduled to come by today?" Christine heard a keyboard clicking.

"The charter school has a fund raising meeting scheduled with your Mom at 4:30p."

"She's going to have to cancel, she isn't feeling well. I'll call around and tell everyone, but if anyone shows can you send them home?"

"I'll need to hear that from your Mom."

"She's taking a nap right now," Christine replied. "Can I have her call you when she wakes up?"

"That would be fine."

"Thanks, Jon," Christine hung up and walked to the server. She pressed the button labeled "Master". The control sphere was now broadcasting to the entire house. Christina and Lisa moved to the TV in the game room and watched a "Simpsons" re-run. According to Prof. Sawyer, all they'd need is a half hour.

30 minutes later, Christine was more convinced than ever that Krusty the Klown was the greatest supporting character in the history of television. Christine and Lisa finished their Diet Coke's and made sure to clean up. There was no hurry, after all. Once everything was spic and span, the two went back upstairs.

But for the soothing hiss of the control sphere on the speakers, the house was silent. They glanced into the kitchen and though there were still dishes in the sink, Pam was nowhere to be found. The two searched the ground floor quickly, it was empty.

"Who do you want to check on first? Mom, Dad or Darla?" Christine asked.

"Save your Dad for last, I want to play a little," Lisa said. "Other than that, your house... your prerogative."

Christine led the way upstairs. Darla's room was at the end of the hall. She and Maggie had been in such a hurry that they hadn't bothered to close the door all the way. Christine pushed it open. Clothing was scattered wildly on the floor, testament to the speed with which they'd been discarded. Darla and Maggie lay on the bed, mouth to pussy. Erica was on top, her slim body covered with sweat and freckles, the wild shock of her red hair bobbing frantically up and down as she savaged Darla's twat.

Darla's technique was totally different. Her auburn tresses had been dyed jet black. Lisa approved of the new look, she liked how it contrasted with her pale white skin. Darla held her head still as her jaw worked. She looked like she was literally, literally, eating Maggie. Lisa thought back to her first time with Christine, who licked cunt more in the style of Maggie. Either way was okay with Lisa. Another difference between the sisters, she noticed immediately, was their bodies. Though they had similar proportions, their builds were entirely dissimilar: Christine was soft and round while Darla was sinewy and tight. Lisa watched closely, the cycle of those muscular lines flexing and relaxing really made her wet. She was looking forward to finding out all the other ways the sister were different.

"Fast learners," Lisa said. It may have come out loud enough to be heard, but that ultimately didn't matter. The two rutting women paid their audience no mind.

"Erica's a spicy little Irish number," Christine giggled as they headed back into the hall. "We can catch up with them later."

The two walked to the other end of the hall, passing Christine's old room and all the guest rooms. The door at this end of the hall had been fully closed, and Christine worried for a second it would be locked.

But it wasn't. Christine's Mom lay nude on the bed, rolling across the sheets, one hand a blur as she desperately frigged herself, the other kneading one of her large tits. Lisa could see where Christine had inherited her build from. The two stood quietly as Christine's Mom grunted and panted and tried to bring herself off.

"Wow!" Lisa gasped. "Your Mom is really hot... I never really noticed."

"Ewwwww," Christine groaned. "That's my Mom you're talking about."

"Well, she isn't my Mom." Unconsciously, Lisa cupped a breast.

"Let's go find Dad."

"You go ahead," Lisa took a step into the room. "I'm going to help your Mom out."

"Slut," Christine said good naturedly. "Just make sure she calls Jon in the next hour or so and says the meeting is canceled.

Lisa was already unbuttoning her shirt. Without bothering to look back, she aimed a distracted "Will do" at Christine. By the time she reached the bed she was down to her purple, satin panties, the ones she loved because they made her hips look so good.

In a moment of lucidity, Christine's Mom realized she was being watched. She froze, looked up, but her hand never left her pussy. Lisa stood there, wearing next to nothing, her nipples jutting out from crinkled areoles a shade darker than her black skin. Slowly she began to rub herself again. Lisa rolled her panties down her legs. Christine's Mom could see how wet the girl already was, how swollen and impossibly red her cunt was. She knew she'd beg for a taste of that pussy, that she'd debase and humiliate herself in any way just to run her tongue even once between those engorged lips. But she knew she didn't have to. Lisa wanted her as well. Lisa slid onto the bed and Christine's Mom caressed the leaking vagoo. It felt hot and wet and beautiful. Lisa's hand stroked her cheek, pushing the tangled hair away.