"That's it," said his stepsister Callie after what seemed like miles on the dirt road, not even glancing up from her phone as they moved past a wide clearing.
"That gate we just passed?"
Callie braced herself on the dash when he hit the brakes. "Calm down, we can take the next one. Just after the bend."
Around the next bend lay a laneway, completely unmarked. She nodded without looking at him in response to his incredulous glance. "This feels like a horror movie," he said as he rolled onto the narrow lane. "Your cottage has two entrances? Do you own all this land?"
Callie shrugged. "You don't know where we're going? Your dad helped build it. He's like some kind of idiot savant about the old woodwork, I guess." She still didn't look away from her slick phone of the newest generation, but this had been more words than she has used at once the entire trip and possibly as long as they had known each other. "Grandpa calls it 'Haley's Hideaway'. Gag me."
"This was that big project up north?" He slowed further as the lane bent west and saw what appeared to be the loading area of a large building, the lot cleared and well maintained but utilitarian in its design. From both sides ran a tall metal fence, and two men strolled up when the rusty yellow car came to a stop.
Callie looked up at last when the guy in dark clothes and dark glasses bent to her window. "Now Callie, you know you're not supposed to come in this way."
She smiled up at him, setting her hand on his arm. "I can't pass up the opportunity to see you just because Mother doesn't like it," she told him seductively.
He grinned, then cleared his throat as he looked at the driver. "You're going to talk like that in front of your boyfriend? Mrs. Baron..."
"Oh, my god!" Callie said, laughing. "My boyfriend? Holy fuck, no. This is Mother's new husband's kid."
"Oh," the guard said, looking more critically. "Yeah. He was supposed to take the south gate, too."
"Dummy drove right past it," Callie told him with a shrug. She leaned up to kiss him, and he helped her climb out the window as their lips met. She giggled as she was set down, "I want to take a shower before I see Mother."
"Why?" he asked. "You been a dirty girl?"
"Not yet, but I plan to before I see her."
"Callie-baby, you're going to get me fired," he said between kisses. "If I get caught off my post again..."
"Later then," she said. "I'll be in my second-floor room when you get off."
He pushed her back against the car as he kissed her, his hands on her ass. "Mm," he agreed. "Alright, go on up."
"Thanks, Bretty," she said, kissing him once more. "Come on, Dummy," she said as she walked toward the building.
'Bretty' bent down across the window, blocking the view of Callie's bouncing ass. "Go on."
He got out of the car to follow his step-sister hastily to some metal stairs and upward. "What the hell is going on? I thought this was a quiet weekend at the cottage. What the hell is this place?"
"The cottage?" Callie snorted. "Do you not even know who your father married?"
"I... I met her. She seemed nice. Dad said she was pretty rich but..."
Callie stopped at the security door at the top. "Did she act all humble, like a small business owner who just got lucky?"
"I guess..."
"Do you know where all this money comes from?"
He shook his head and she rolled her eyes to the keypad, where she hit buttons until the light turned green and the door opened. The room looked like a closet, completely dark when he shut the door behind him, and she opened another onto a corridor with carpet he was reluctant to walk on in his dirty shoes. Callie moved off to the left but turned back when he followed her.
"What do you want?" she asked. "I think you're in the main floor guest room."
"Whatever," he muttered as she turned from him. He took his shoes off and meandered the other way, toward the open foyer and stood at the railing looking down. The place was huge and extravagant, his jaw hung open as he counted seven doors leading out of the entrance just on the main floor, and a long oak bar.
He poured himself a drink as he checked out the bar, and looked around sipping at the concoction of hard liquors. He leaned past an open door taking a look at the pictures, two still-lifes, a landscape, then a portrait. It was a painting of his stepmother sitting in a chair. She was laughing, leaning at an interesting, boob silhouetting angle, and she was naked. He bent to the lower corner, and saw her own name.
"Fucking weird," he commented, taking a step back to consider the large canvas and another swallow of his cringe-inducing drink. She was a good artist, the likeness amazing, and the playful energy of the piece tantalizing. She had spent hours on this painting of her naked in the chair that sat not six feet away. Looking at that picture made him realise just how little he knew about his stepfamily.
He continued to look around, opening a cabinet idly and finding a collection of magazines. Dirty ones. All publishers were represented, and he drew one out, opening it to where a post it marked the full page spread of his stepmother stretched out on silk sheets. Through an exhaustive search, he determined that each of the marked pages in the books was a photo of her or an interview where she spoke candidly of how it made her feel to be desired, and to satisfy those desires.
The gradual tightening of his pants culminated in a raging erection as he flipped through the magazines for another peek at his stepmother's body, slowly draining his throat burning drink. He knew her job had to do with fashion, it made sense that she'd been a model when she was younger, but some of the shoots were beyond racy. He stopped at one where her ass was raised toward the camera, her face looking up with a longing pout as she inserted the large black dick of an offscreen man.
Closing his eyes, he reached down to adjust himself, but that just made it worse; now instead of seeing Haley fucking other guys, he imagined his dick entering her. He stroked his bulge as he imagined thrusting deep, glanced around, then undid his belt. He grabbed the next magazine and it was even better, lying on her back, looking right at him as though begging him to enter. He looked at her face, her full lips, his eyes moved over her body, her swollen breasts. He rubbed himself faster as he turned the page, where she was kissing a man, leaning over him. He was clothed and she was naked, but the look on both their faces said that she was in control. She was just too hot, he couldn't stop himself from releasing his excited dick from the last fabric.
"I didn't know you got in," said the voice of the woman he'd been staring at the last ten minutes. "Didn't you use the main gate?"
He didn't turn to her; his erection just wouldn't go down. He could barely get it back into his pants. "No, I missed the turn," he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He opened his eyes and Haley in the magazine stared back at him. He closed it, but that couldn't take the image from his mind. He could think of nothing else to say as he carefully slid the dirty magazines back onto the shelf and closed the cabinet.
"Did you find anything interesting?" she asked. She had gotten close without making a noise, standing right next to him. She had to know what was in this cabinet, she could no doubt see his hard on. Her proximity was making it throb, she brushed his arm as she reached to open it again.
She drew one out. "Were you touching yourself right here off the main foyer?"
"Uh..."
"Were you touching yourself while looking at pictures of me?"
"Maybe," he admitted with a drunken shrug.
"What do you suppose your father would say if he'd been the one to catch you here?" Haley asked.
After thinking about it a moment, the answer was obvious. "Hello, Son, how was the drive in?"
Haley laughed, and put her hand on his shoulder. "That's probably right!" she said, gripping his arm. "Mm, you're strong like your dad."
"Wh... where is he?"
"Playing poker with the gardeners. He still considers himself one of the common people."
"Not fitting in with your set?" he asked, staring at her boobs on the canvas across the room.
"He fits in just fine," she said.
