James Elliott - A Bride For The Whole Family

"Nervous?" he grinned. "Don't worry. They'll love you!"

"But?"

"But nothing. The Hightowers may be a tad bit strange, but we really live rather simple," he reassured her. "That's what money's all about.

It lets you live in the style you want."

She shook her head, still unbelieving, and started to speak, but Michael announced, "Here they come. Time to meet your in-laws."

She glanced to the house and saw a man walking briskly toward the car.

With a last few brushes at her skirt, Diana took a deep breath, opened the door and slid out. The man, a wide grin on his face, was at Michael's side, behind them she glimpsed a feminine figure stepping from the house.

"Father, my wife, Diana," Michael beamed. "Diana, meet Michael Hightower, Number One."

She knew a surprised look was plastered stupidly across her face, but it couldn't be helped. Her father-in-law's resemblance to his son, her husband, was unbelievable. He was identical to Michael, except for a slightly older-looking face and a few strands of grey hair salting the area around his temples. The elder Hightower even wore blue-jeans and a pullover in the fashion of his son. Had she not known that he was nearing fifty, she would have guessed his age to be no more than in the mid-thirties.

"She's beautiful, Michael," he grinned, dropping a hand he had proferred as a greeting. "Handshakes are for men. I prefer a healthy hug for beautiful women…that is if you don't object."

Smiling, she shook her head in the negative and opened her arms. The hug was no more than a quick friendly squeeze. Still somewhat stunned by the father and son resemblance, she mumbled something about being pleased at the warm greeting and found her "Mr. Hightower" immediately corrected to "Michael One," if having two Michaels around confused her.

"Diana, welcome," a flurry of a woman form pushed around the older Hightower and she was getting another warm hug and a quick womanly kiss on the cheek. "We're all so happy."

"My wife, Lorraine," her father-in-law made the introduction.

Diana found herself mentally knocked for another loop, when she was finally released from the hug and got a good look at her new mother-inlaw. Lorraine was a beautiful woman. Not only beautiful, but she didn't look a day over twenty-five. She was dressed in a loost-fitting silk caftan, but the light afternoon breeze pressed the thin fabric against her body, revealing the curves of an equally young woman.

Dear old Dad likes 'em sweet and tender, she mentally noted, remembering Michael's words about his family being "a little different."

Jolt three came when Lorraine introduced her two children, jerking the rug out from under Diana's twenty-five year old theory. First there was Paula-eighteen and sharing her mother's blonde, flowing hair and shapely figure. And at sixteen and a full six feet, was Bryan. Brushing the reddish-blonde mat of long hair from his face, he offered Diana a handshake in greeting. Her first impression of him as a young athlete was reinforced by the strength of his grip.

Michael had told her of his father's re-marriage after his wife's death five years ago, but this bordered on the unbelievable. Lorraine looked so young, but here were her children by a previous marriage. And they were in their late teens. Hell, Diana thought, I'm only twenty-one and Michael's just twenty-two.

"This is my sister, Katherine," her husband introduced the final member of the Hightower family.

"Kate, to friends and family," the young black-haired girl insisted, giving Diana another friendly hug.

Michael's true sister, Diana knew, was seventeen. And she realized the good looks of the Hightowers weren't reserved for the men, as she gazed at the young girl.

"My other son, Jim, hasn't arrived home from school yet," the elder Michael Hightower spoke. "We expect him in by Sunday. Which will give you a chance to meet him before you two have to leave."

She nodded, then allowed her father-in-law to escort her into the Hightower "home." If the immense house appeared to be a mansion on the outside, it did doubly so within. A great sweeping, curved stairway leading to the upper floor stood at the back of the entry hall. And everywhere was highly polished wood paneling. She only glimpsed the other rooms, as Lorraine took over and led her and Michael upstairs to their room to freshen up before dinner. Their room looked like something out of Gone With The Wind and Diana raced across the room to fly bouncing on the over-sized four-poster bed as soon as Lorraine departed, announcing dinner would be ready in an hour or so.

"It's beautiful and they're nice," she grinned up from the bed, still feeling the jostling mattress beneath her.

"I'm glad," Michael said, climbing in beside her. "I was worried."

"I know," she whispered, cradling his head and kissing him with soft warmth.

His arms encircled her, pulling her close. Their tongues played around, exploring the warm wetness of their mouths for moments, gradually increasing the urgency of their embrace and sparking flames and lighting fires.

She wiggled and squirmed even closer, so that her body was pressed firmly down the front of him. Even through their clothes, she could detect the growing bulge at his crotch. She rolled her thigh over the hardening length, suggestively. He moaned, pulling her hard to him, his hands roaming over her back.

"I seem to remember a certain vampire out front and a certain lewd proposal," he whispered as he nibbled her ear when they parted.

"You are under my power," she whispered, picking up the Transylvanian accent they had used earlier. "You vill do as I say."

"I will do as you say," he laughed, playfully hugging her close, and once more kissing her long and hard, leaving them both fully aroused when they parted.

"Well, do as I say then!" she chided. "Get those clothes off. 'Cause, boy have I got some unusual vampiric techniques to show you!"

"A little snack before dinner?" he smiled as he hastily stripped.

"You might say that!" her eyes sparkled, as they focused in on the jutting, jerking pole of cock throbbing hard and rigid from his groin.

"Now sit on the side of the bed."

He did as she said, enjoying the view as she slipped free of her blouse and her pleated skirt. Next came the "blushing pink" bra and matching bikini panties. Naked, she came toward him, her green eyes trained on him like those of a cat hypnotizing its prey before it pounced. Her uptilted tits swayed in a delightful little dance, moved by the exaggerated movement of her hips. His balls tightened familiarly and his stiff rod jerked and twitched with anticipation.

A foot before him, she stopped, posing momentarily, letting her hands briefly cup the firm globes of her breasts, then slide seductively down the sleek curves of her sides and hips. Once again he felt lust grab his testicles in a taut grip of desire.

Locking his eyes to hers, she slowly lowered herself before him, kneeling on the floor. His legs parted and she moved forward, taking advantage of his positioning on the side of the bed.

She glanced down to his crotch and studied the thick pole shafting out toward her face-and mouth! Gently, with loving care, she reached out and tenderly ran her fingertips down its unbending length. It throbbed and pulsed with virile life beneath her touch. A single drop of crystal clear preseminal fluid welled from its tiny pinprick mouth.

Her emerald eyes rolled back up to him, as if saying "I see what is being offered and I like it." Her naturally blushed lips were caught in an elfin smile of mischief. Her pink tongue flicked wetly from behind her lips and gleaming white teeth. Then her eyes descended back to the swollen pole standing hard and proud at his crotch. Her fingers once more stroked its strained length and she watched it jerk and pulse with growing excitement.