Rochester Mansion- The Complete Series Read online

“I was hoping to get some air going this morning…” Mike said, in a futile attempt. The girl always got her way.

  “Oh, you wanted to get some air going?” She whispered, nimble fingers sliding the sipper down to the bottom of the fly. “I think I can help you with that, if you’re too…hot.”

  Mike watched as the gorgeous coed slipped to her knees and finished extracting his hardening cock, assisting it on its way with a nudge in the form of her tongue tracking a hot trail from his balls, up the length of his shaft and then circling the head like an ice-cream cone.

  “You’re after something, aren’t you, you little vixen?” Mike laughed.

  He saw Aimee’s lips crack into a smile the moment before they pursed and engulfed the pre-slicked head of his shaft, chasing their way downwards until they were quickly buried in the hair at the base of his cock. The young lady had considerable talents, and this was just one of them.

  From her pace, he knew that she was after something. She wanted to knock his socks off and finish him. Even though he relished the thought of releasing a load into that sexy little mouth, he was going to make her work for it, even though he knew he was going to give her whatever she was after.

  “Mmm, that’s nice, little kitty.” He groaned, wrapping both of his hands into her hair to use to guide her motions. “But I don’t think I’m going to let you off easy on this one.”

  Mike pressed her down hard, pressing the extra length of his shaft beneath the skin into her throat and grinding it up and down a bit. “I’m going to fuck that hot little mouth of yours a bit.”

  Aimee’s mop of red hair nodded in acknowledgement as he withdrew his shaft. It sank right back in and setup a perfect rhythm, sliding into her hot and eager throat with each stroke as the pace accelerated.

  Over and over he drove into her, slowing the pace and speeding up to provide the perfect stimulation, though that was hardly needed. Simply staring down at the beautiful tableau before him was mind-boggling. He could see the roundness of her ass struggling against the tight confines of her shorts while the arch of her back conjured a ski jump in the off season, steaming hot, yet still slick and inviting with her growing sweat.

  “That’s perfect.” Mike whispered, after getting just the right rhythm to get him to the boiling point. It had been nearly ten minutes and Aimee’s jaw was sure to be sore, but he could see that she was enjoying every moment of it. “It’s going to go right down your throat.”

  It did.

  Blast after blast poured out of his bucking cock. The first shots went down her throat, but a loss of balance pulled him out. One blast painted her tongue as he slipped from her mouth and another traced a milky-white streak across the bridge of her nose and down to her tongue as he regained control, stroking one more blast onto her cheek before depositing the head of his cock between her lips, where she finished the job with a seductive twist of her tongue and a playful look in her gorgeous eyes.

  “So what is it you want?” Mike laughed as he helped the sticky beauty to her feet.

  “Why do you always thing that I…”

  “Spill it.”

  “Well, remember how you were asking about that party last night?”

  “Yeah.”

  Aimee gave him her ditzy look. She was far from, but it was always amusing. “Well, we kinda…burned the sorority down.”

  “And?” Mike asked. Nothing really surprised him. It was what he loved about her.

  “And…we were wondering if we could use the mansion until the repairs are done.”

  Chapter Four

  “Sounds like a great deal for you.” Eliza joked, stepping out of the shower. It felt weird to Mike. Being back in the old house made things seem so much…the same as they were before Eliza had left him. It still had a bit of an unlived in feel, but that was starting to go away. The house had been vacant since the divorce. He had moved out almost immediately by his own choice, and stubbornly refused to move back in when she had remarried.

  Sometimes stubbornness pays off, he thought, watching her towel off the familiar body that still sent shivers down his spine.

  Mike gave her a sheepish grin. “Well…I haven’t said yes yet.”

  “But you know you will.”

  “You know where there are sorority girls there are frat boys as well, right?” Mike said, coming up behind her as she wrapped the towel around her breasts. “And you know I’m not just giving lip service. You’re free to be who you want to be as well.”

  Eliza turned in his arms. “I know. I’m going to get there in my own time, though I’m likely to be just as interested in the girls as I am the guys.”

  Mike laughed. “You kept that well-hidden when we were married.”

  Eliza slipped out of his arms and went over to her newly restocked closet. “Well, you definitely made me re-think things a bit. If I’m going to limit myself, why limit myself because of some inhibitions that I’m trying to get rid of anyway?”

  “You know, there’s some other stuff I want to sit down and talk to you about when we have the time. I know you’re running right now. Stuff about the house.”

  She smiled as she pulled a dress down over her damp hair. It slipped down her gorgeous contours, only hitching on her hips before sliding into place. It made his fingertips jealous.

  “This house, or the other one?”

  “Rochester Mansion.” Mike answered, his mind already rehearsing details, though he wanted to save it until he had the opportunity to prove what he needed to tell her. Would the house even let him do that? He was sure Will Robinson would have loved for the house to allow its secrets to be divulged to the police.

  Eliza smiled. “It just sounds so weird. It was always that creepy house on the hill. Gorgeous, but so much work. I never knew you had it in you, but then again, I think I misjudged you for a long time, Mike.”

  She kissed him quickly on the lips before she turned back to the closet to find the right heels.

  “But sure. You’re not thinking of selling it, are you?”

  Mike watched her from behind, loving the way the fabric rose up on her hips as she dug through the bottom of the closet. A day after moving in and she was already searching for stuff. It was one of the traits he had always found endearing.

  “Not at all. Just some of the history and stuff I’ve found during the remodel.”

  “Now that sound like a fun date.” She said, turning back to him as she put each heel on in turn behind her back. “Are there like secret passages and stuff?”

  She grinned, but it quickly turned to surprise as Mike’s own expression changed.

  “There are! That’s so cool. Yeah, I definitely want to hear all about it, but I’ve gotta run. You’ve decided on the sorority thing, though, haven’t you?”

  Mike smiled.

  “Yeah, you’ve definitely become a horndog.” She laughed, grabbing her purse. “But I do like that, especially what it’s done to you in the bedroom.”

  She was gone a moment later with a ‘love you’ from the front door.

  What was ‘done to him’ was all the house’s doing. He liked Mansion Mike, but the new persona was definitely taking over.

  Chapter Five

  Mike figured that it was going to be the last chance he’d have to get down to the basement for at least two weeks. He’d simply texted Aimee that her she and her sisters could use the Mansion during their own renovations and the only way he could interpret the huge string of emojis he received was that she was pretty excited about. He wasn’t sure what the eggplant was for, but he figured it boded well for when she came over later that evening.

  Along with his headlamp and lantern, this time Mike went equipped with more mundane renovation tools. An hour with a broom and a dustpan would likely do the place magic, he figured. At a level he knew was ridiculous, he didn’t want Eliza to see the state that it was in. The main chamber took the bulk of the time and he filled the better part of two five-gallon buckets with dust and debris that had been scattered about. Th
ere was no hope for the secret sex dungeon in the time he figured he had, but at the very least he wanted to do away with the bulk of the rotted leather whips and floggers. A few of the other implements of pleasure found their way into one of the wooden chests in the back corner. He wasn’t entirely sure what most of them were, but they could possibly have some value, at least to a collector.

  The book.

  He needed to go through it and really inventory what was there, but after Will Robinson had told his own story, he had much more of a healthy fear of it. Something had happened to make Linda Sue Carmody disappear off the face of the Earth and that was worrisome. Even more worrisome to him than the fact that it may have killed her was the thought that it may not have killed her. If she was still alive, where had she been for the past ten years?

  Mike walked up to the pedestal that held the book. The thought hit him right as he was about to walk away from it. He didn’t really owe Will Robinson anything at all, but he wanted to help the man. He turned the front cover as he took out his phone. One by one, he spent the next thirty minutes snapping pictures of each spell in the spell section, as well as the majority of the pages in the journal section. He didn’t want the book to escape the basement, but he didn’t think that the spells themselves would have any power outside of the house. If they had, he couldn’t imagine that Will hadn’t tried to use the Requirement spell after all of these years.

  One entry stood out at the end of Cyril Rochester’s journal section:

  14 April, 1873

  I sent my brother Cyrus to the source. His crimes were such to justify the action, though it still pains me greatly. Perhaps given time, it will rehabilitate him. Bringing him back in one year’s time will show if I am right in that thought.

  Unfortunately for Mike’s curiosity, but more importantly for Cyrus Rochester, the entries didn’t continue past February of 1874.

  “Well, that sucks.” Mike said, closing the book. He was going to have to read the rest of the entries to see if there was any mention of how he was purporting to bring his wayward brother back from whatever ‘the source’ was. The terminology itself was what had originally caught his eye, as it was similar to the spell he had noted when photographing those. He’d seen the words ‘source’ and ‘dues’ and had almost cringed, snapping a quick picture before he was tempted to read it, even within his own head.

  A low rumble went through the stone walls, echoing in the chamber. It continued, driving Mike back to the surface, where he noted multiple pairs of headlights coming up the long switchback to the house. Was that what he had heard? The staircase rumbled shut behind him. Had Cyril Rochester planned that, or was it just a convenient trick of the hillside? It couldn’t have been built with cars in mind, but maybe multiple horses? Mike didn’t know.

  Mike set a new passcode on his phone before the cars arrived. He wanted to be sure no one would access the new files. As he slid it into his pocket, he opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch.

  He had been giving this quite a bit of thought. Eliza had been right that he had made up his mind to say yes almost immediately, what man wouldn’t? What she hadn’t known was the deeper considerations he had been trying to work out. Was he going to let them come in through the front door or was he going to direct them in through another entrance? The models had been good evidence that despite the power of the house, it didn’t cause females to go completely wild. They still had control and would still only do things that they would have done anyway if inhibitions were gone and conditions were right. As he had thought in the past, sort of a fast-tracked version of that groundhog movie; just getting it right the first time. It wasn’t as if all of them would try to jump his bones the moment they crossed the threshold.

  The solution had come to him that morning, and he was pretty proud of himself for it.

  Let the magic in twelve hours fade,

  Just as the rising sun kills the shade.

  Mike finished the words and looked at his watch. Eight-thirty in the evening. For the majority of his new houseguests, the spell cast by Rochester Mansion would be diminishing or be entirely gone by the time they woke up in the morning. It was going to be a heck of a Spring Break. One of the things he was looking forward to the most was the chance to bring a fresh face into bed with him and Eliza.

  Chapter Six

  He wasn’t positive, but his final count was fifteen. A large number of the girls were somewhere far more glamourous than Rochester for Spring Break, but the crew that ended up in the mansion seemed to be pretty happy about it. Aimee had introduced each one to him as they slowly paraded in through the front door, bedding in hand with the knowledge that he had opened the entire house to them, other than the master bedroom upstairs. As they laughed and giggled at the land rush for bedrooms and spaces to sleep, he was almost dizzy with the number of pulses the house sent through him.

  “You okay, Mike?” Aimee had asked at one point.

  “Yeah, I’m good.” He said, though his hand was bracing him against the overly-wide doorframe.

  “From what I’ve heard so far,” Aimee said. “You’re pretty popular, and it’s not just because you’re offering up the house.”

  Fingertips brushed the front of his shorts as two more young coeds started to head up towards the front door from their cars.

  “I’m thinking someone’s going to be rather busy if he wants to be.”

  “What about you?” Mike asked, looking down at the cute little redhead.

  She frowned. “Well, I’d like to join in, but I’m thinking I should probably go check on my father. He’s pretty beat down over the whole thing with him and Eliza.”

  Mike noted that Aimee had almost entirely ceased calling his ex-wife and her former step-mother ‘Liz’; a nickname that she knew the older woman despised. The fact that they had come together the way they had still amazed him.

  “Well, I don’t wish him any ill, I hope you know that.”

  “You don’t wish anyone ill, Mike. That’s one of the things that I love about you. You’re just a big old Teddy Bear.” She stopped ribbing him as a young woman climbed the steps. “Mike, this is Ashley, Ashley, Mike.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ashley.” Mike said. The girl gave him a sidelong glance before slipping past him and through the door.

  “Kind of a bitch.” Aimee whispered.

  The wave hit Mike from behind and both he and Aimee turned to follow the moody coed into the house with their eyes, catching her turn her own head to stare back at Mike before quickly turning back.

  “Jeez, I didn’t know how DILF-crazy my sorority sisters were or I would have brought more of them over to meet you.”

  “DILF?”

  Aimee laughed. “Dad I’d Like to Fuck. Keep up, you old geezer. I’m going inside. The last one coming up, over there is Anna. You’ll like her. Definitely your type.”

  Mike smacked her hard on the ass as she walked past him, eliciting a cute little squeal.

  One thing he could say about both Eliza and Aimee. Both women seemed to know him inside and out. From the moment he could start making out the last straggling sorority sister’s face, he knew that she was right.

  Anna.

  He repeated the name in his head as she came closer and closer. Strawberry blonde hair and sunglasses, despite the growing dusk as the sun settled in over the city of Rochester.

  You’re thinking in poetry, Mike told himself. He felt the smile spread across his face and pass directly to the beautiful young woman as she mounted the stairs. As she pulled the sunglasses from her face, he was caught in the most devastating brown eyes. He wasn’t sure if the slightly reddish tint to them was natural, or a trick of the dying sun. They were like Oklahoma red clay distilled to extract the best of its beauty.

  “You seem like a happy guy.” She said, setting her oversized bag down on the wood slats of the porch. “But then again, this would probably make most guys happy, am I right?”

  Mike laughed. “You’re definitely ri
ght, there. Anna, is it?”

  “Someone’s been telling on me.” Anna said. The return smile was entrancing, the slight gap between her front teeth reminding him of the one stray stitch Persian weavers included in a rug because perfection was reserved for Allah.

  “Don’t worry, you ladies probably won’t see too much of me around. I’ve still got lots of renovation to do.”

  “Well, that’s definitely a shame.” Anna said, giving him one more long look before she walked past him and crossed the threshold of Rochester Mansion.

  Chapter Seven

  Mike could hear the stray strains of music downstairs, but it wasn’t bothering him in the least. According to Aimee, the partying wouldn’t likely start until the next night, when all the girls had become more comfortable and had time to get the word out. Though he didn’t mind that at all, he was planning to keep to himself for the majority of the time. He wasn’t kidding himself that he wouldn’t be sampling from the gorgeous dishes that were on offer, but he wanted to go through some more of the Rochester Mansion secrets, now safely ensconced on his phone.