Layla's Siren Call

1

Layla thought the house to be eerily quiet.

What passed for the rush hour in this choice residential suburb of Richmond, with its tree-lined roads and many colonial revivalist houses all around, was over some time ago. She would soon get used to being at home again, after a hectic college term spent away, and there would be time to catch up with friends who had not strayed too far from familiar surroundings. But then, they didn't all have a parent, or stepfather as it was in her case, who was ragingly successful and had bought the stone-built house with its gorgeous rooms, staircases, and mature gardens that dated it back to the 1930s. She wasn't spoilt but lucky, just as her mom, Eleanor, had been in marrying him. Now, the three of them lived in its gloriously decorated rooms, her older brother and sister long gone. She could have the pick of any bedroom, but had stuck with her favorite, what she called 'The Orchid Room' on account of the floral décor on the walls. A large mahogany framed bed dominated the space, but the views of the garden and the trees at the boundaries, made it her special hideaway, were she ever to need it.

And now, as she took in again her only too familiar surroundings, she accepted that she had done just as her Mom had asked of her and would control her excitement at knowing that she would soon see Dan again.

Eleanor had stood by the front door and had spoken out her hopes in a soft voice. "Don't go making any noise as you walk around upstairs, will you? And not down here, chattering on your iPhone as you do. Dan came home very late last night after his flight from the West Coast was delayed. My poor darlin' was wrecked by the time he came to bed..."

"You don't need to spell it out, Mom. I've sure learned something in my twenty or so years..."

"I know, sorry for treating you like you were a kid." Eleanor had been seen rummaging in her tote bag for her car keys, her choice of clothes for the day so smart in a dressed down sort of way; slacks cut to above the ankle, pointed high heel shoes that flattered slender legs and ankles; an eye-catching cream blouse was worn under a jacket with its sleeves partially rolled up. She didn't need to work, Dan could see to that, but she chose to do so in a local realtor's office which meant showing possible buyers around homes they had on their books. "A here they are!"

She had a friendly, bubbly laugh, something that she, her daughter, had inherited though it wasn't quite so deep and sultry.

"Were you still up when Dan got home? I didn't hear either of you talking."

"I was in bed, trying to read as I couldn't sleep until I knew that Dan was home. You know me, I'm restless when he's not around and he's back here with us."

"With you, with you, surely?"

"No Layla, darlin', with the two of us. Dan cares for you as if you were his daughter..."

"Which I'm not, but I'm glad we're living here with him. Dan makes me laugh and I can talk to him about college life...college things, you know...?" She remembered blurting it all out.

Eleanor would have seen her daughter's shrug of the shoulders.

"About guys you meet, is that what you mean?" Eleanor had lingered at the door, sensing that she wanted to get something off her mind. She was seen to flick away stray strands of hair that hung loosely from under a white baseball cap. Her Mom would have seen with that belligerent look in her eyes, how she'd shifted before her. She'd felt at ease, now that she was home again, and could wear a white cropped cotton top matched by frayed cutaway denim shorts. They were clothes that she was often seen wearing when at home. White ankle socks and trainers flattered her toned legs that she was proud of and were regularly waxed.

"They're all jerks, those I've met or who tried to come onto me!" Her Mom had probably not wanted to hear about her love life, somewhat barren as it was and not something she found too easy to talk about.

"I'm sorry," Eleanor had said, looking at her watch, "we'll have to talk some more when I get home. I'm going to be late if I don't get moving!"

"Go, it's okay, Mom, really it is."

"I sure hope it is. Remember what I said and perhaps you can make Dan some breakfast but leave it for another hour or so."

"Sure, I'll make it along with mine. I need to get used to being in my room again. Thanks for looking after it."

"It's no trouble darlin'." On a kiss and hug, Eleanor was soon gone and she had closed the heavy oak front door on her, seeing Eleanor scurry over the slabbed path until she had turned the corner of the house and taken the path to the garage block.

And there she had left a morning meeting with her busy Mom. The return home from college had coincided with Dan being away. She had wanted to be reunited with him, with a man who had a special place in her life and her heart. It had not always been that way, but her birth father had abandoned them all, was infrequently in any sort of contact, and the longer that had gone on, and she'd been growing up, her dependence on Dan grew stronger.

It wasn't something she spoke of to either of them, least of all to Eleanor, for there was no knowing how she would react to her daughter, now a young woman through all the anguish of puberty, but with some experience of tawdry get-on with guys, being besotted with Dan.

Treading slowly on the stairs, the boards often creaking under the carpet, she made her way to her room and closed the door. She would occupy herself with some college work, and be distracted in that way. Dan would have to pass her room on his way downstairs.

"I'll hear and then see you and then things will be better."

2

Dan looked at his watch, the metal wristband had dug into his skin or left a mark upon it, the hairs on his arm entangled and stopping it from sliding down onto his wrist. There had been no calls from Eleanor but he had wished her a good day at her work before turning over and falling asleep once more. The trip, the endless meetings, sleeping in a strange bed in the hotel, then the delay in getting home had all wrought their effects upon him. He had not been up to fully meeting Eleanor's hopes for a loving reunion, but they had lain naked in each other's arms and he had fallen asleep without realizing it.

They had met when each of them was on the rebound from failed marriages, his having been childless and Eleanor having three to look after, with Layla the youngest and her only child, the other two from her ex's previous life, and that Eleanor had never spoken of because she knew nothing of their mother. There had been some years difference between them and that went for Layla too and her 'siblings'.

What become a mess in their private lives had been brought into quick order and the house they now lived in was located in one of the best parts of the city, the banks of the James River but a short walk away. Both he and Eleanor looked at it as a home for Layla. He stopped short of ever saying that she was their only child, but the bond with the girl was strong and in his eyes special.

He slipped out from under the thin duvet and grabbed for his lounge pants, stripped off so hastily by Eleanor as she thought to take the lead in his welcome home fun. Moccasin slippers were soon on his large feet and he padded to the bathroom to take a leak and studied his reflection in the mirror. He sure looked tired, his face drawn and his stubble-covered cheeks a little sunken.

"You're getting older, pal," he muttered as the toilet was flushed and he reached out to grab a thin dressing gown, cinching the silk fabric at his waist. He wasn't going to bother about his hairy chest being exposed to Layla's sight if she was around, the young woman wisely deciding not to disturb him. He'd texted her to say that he would be home way too late and for her not to wait up for him as Elanor had done.

The floorboards creaked as he passed her room and went down the stairs. Some local music station was heard from the kitchen and he saw Layla swaying to the music, her hair tumbling down her back and a white cap on her head.

She gasped as he touched her shoulder. "At last! I wondered if I should knock on the door to your room!"

"I had to sleep in." He felt Layla search for his hand before she gripped it tightly. "It looks like you've made yourself at home."

She saw him smile and reach out to tip her baseball cap forward until it fell to the floor between them. He knelt to sweep it up before she could react to his playful greeting.

"It feels that way, now that you're here," she said, finally, choosing not to put on the hat. "I didn't hear you come home last night."

"It was late and your Mom had to have her say on things...again."

'"Things' being that you want kids and she doesn't after what she's been through?"

He delayed answering and poured out a large beaker of coffee. "Those muffins look good..."

"I made them for us, warmed them up for a while," she corrected before following him to the breakfast bar and sitting on one of the bar stools, shifting it so that she could be close to his side. "Mom's told me about what you're hoping for with her, you know?"

"I didn't know, but I'm not surprised. And, it sure isn't getting us very far." He shrugged and took sips from his coffee, reaching across the counter to grab a bottle of maple syrup. "I need a little energy boost..."

"And Eleanor's understanding. I heard you, the last time I was here, talking and arguing about it."

"I didn't know about that either. We've gotten into that way of things sometimes, a spiral of saying things we don't mean."

"You don't know that I'm on your side, either, do you?" She gripped his wrist and stopped him from pouring out the syrup he wanted. "I heard you say that the house is way too big for just the two of you and when I'm not here. It was a family home for a while before the others moved on, and I'll..."

"And you'll soon be gone too," he interrupted, smiling and looking at her, delighting in how Layla's cotton top shaped her. It was like a second skin, and he shouldn't be feeling the way that he now was when in the company of a young woman. "Yes, I know that day will also come. There's no escaping that, but at least your mother and I are getting used to the idea of it happening."

He felt the gnaw of longing for her deep in his belly. It was, again, a feeling that he had sought to deny for such a long time and that he was ashamed to acknowledge was felt towards his beguiling and attractive stepdaughter. It confounded everything he had with and felt for, Eleanor, his wife and the mother of a precocious young woman whom he now watched picking at her breakfast, such as it was.

"I'll bring over the coffee," she sighed and slipped off her seat, a soft smile on her lips as she met his look upon her. "I've missed you doing that, you know?"

"And I should know better."

Dan wondered if the disagreements with Eleanor, about something so close to his heart, were having an effect on him and how he behaved with Layla. Equally disconcerting was the realization that, good at business and making money as he was, like any man he had his weak spot and it was turning out to be the young woman before him, someone who now behaved with surprising certainty.

"Don't be sorry for who you are. We may be in the same place, where it concerns others." The early morning sun now bathed the kitchen in its warm, pale light as she stepped over the tiled floor, her bare feet slender and graceful, the toes painted a dark magenta. They matched the color of her neatly shaped fingernails, a detail that he noted as often as the colors seemed to change. She is seen reaching for the percolator as her iPhone trembles on the countertop. "That'll be Mom...want me to tell her anything?"

"Only that I'm awake, just about awake. I'm staying home and will work from here...only later."

He has seen how Layla now leans back against the countertop as she speaks and with her gaze fixed upon him. It seems wistful, even distracted, and he succumbs to keeping his look upon her. Those denim shorts, with their frayed edges, look rebellious and flattering to her slender thighs, the waistline revealing her bare midriff and lightly tanned skin. Layla's cropped top with a heart-shaped ring detail is tight against her tummy. The desired effect is clear, to shape her breasts and draw his eyes to her.

"Yes, I will. Bye," Layla closes the call as she sees him turn away and drain the dregs of his coffee, one arm moving as if he's adjusting his lounge pants. "She says that the day's filled up with viewings so she'll be late coming home...so...so we can be together if...if you need that."

Dan did not answer.

Instead, he raised one hand and she gripped it, took it as a sign of his concession to what he felt for her and wanted from her. She leaned over him, pressed her breasts against his shoulders, and brushed her hands over his skin; tugged gently on the coarse, greying chest hair that she had seen when Dan had been seated beside her, his dressing gown loose and gradually falling open.

"I wanted to be with you...just the two of us together after so long away."

"And you've gotten to me, girl...you have," he sighed, shifting so that he could caress the back of her knees and stroke her thighs until his fingers brushed under that tangled hem of her shorts. He felt her buttocks tense and discovered she wore a thong, the string tight against her wonderfully smooth skin.

"I know. I can feel it," she groaned, his touches sending rushes of longing through her body and down to her pussy. She caressed him with nimble fingers and, reaching down, brazenly brushed her fingers over his penis tip, his lounge pants shaped like a tent.

"So strong, you're so strong. Have you been thinking of this and with me?"

She now pressed her lips to his throat and kissed him gently there, clamped her lips to his skin but not so hard that she would mark him.

"Upstairs, not here, but in your room." Dan rasped and looked intently at her. He realized, from her words and touches, that she was with him in this, in what was to happen between them. "I'll get a condom...."

"You use rubbers?" she asked with a disbelieving laugh before realizing what lay behind that admission. "She controls things, doesn't she?"

"No, and I may yet get my wish," he retorted sharply. "Now, we've said enough."

She moved away, just enough, to allow him to stand up. Then, on a flurry of gasping kisses, she was lifted into his arms and what had seemed an unlikely affair between them was now to be made ragingly real.

3

She is overwhelmed by his ardor and the sight of his naked body, his virility, and the strength of his hands as he undresses her, kisses soon trailed over her skin and she surrenders to him, stands with her legs parted as he kneels before her and trails kisses over her legs, his hands on her buttocks and kneading the hollows at her hips as she pushes forward to meet the claims of his fingers and tongue, her pussy's lips parted by his fingers and those she manages to push past his face.

"I didn't know...I didn't know you felt this way!" she gasps, finally succeeding in slowing him in his claims upon her, the rush of moisture in her pussy, the cramps and shivers in her belly, a sure sign that he will make her cum by these few touches. Most of all, it's what his demands have on her mind.

Finally, and with her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, they lose themselves in frenzied kisses, moving their heads and clinging to each other as they breathe in their body heat. It is all in a wild acknowledgment of what is happening, thoughts of forbidden love now made flesh. She's lifted into his arms and coaxed to wrap her legs around his waist; he's so strong and taller than she is, so manly and now hungry for her. His big hands grip her buttocks and she is crushed against him, her breasts and nipples against Dan's hairy chest and she feels his erection press against her belly.

She sighs and lifts her head in wondrous pleasure. A man wants her, not those fumbling guys at college.

"I want you...I want all of you!" she groans, settling on his fingers and looking down into Dan's upturned face. She sees nothing but a hunger for her and shivers as his lips lick and swirl over her breasts as she leans back, her hands gripping his neck fiercely. "I've waited so long for you!"

She shivers from the new sensations that his chest hair brings to her enervated skin, to her hardening nipples. She feels so alive, her breasts aching from the rush of blood to her nipples and what his hands now do. Her thighs ache from gripping his body. Her embrace allows his hands to roam free and his fingers again smooth and probe over her pussy's lips. They are joined by the caress of his penis tip, the sensations of his hard prick and veined length arousing new sensations, those of a lover confident in his seduction of her.

Nothing is left untouched and she feels that he is glorying in her youthful body, its slenderness, her eagerness to know of him, now that the dam of restraint has been breached. It's all so wrong, so wrong, but she wants to be loved...to be fucked wildly and quickly. She surrenders again to his kisses, and soon sucks on his swirling tongue after he has done that to her as if to acknowledge their first time may be the only time they take possession of each other's bodies.

"You're so wet, darling girl," he kisses as his fingers caress her so deeply, swirling and pressing the sides. Her thong has been tugged aside and she feels the strap dig ever tighter into her skin.

"Take it off me, undo it!" she gasps, rising and falling on his fingers as Dan tugs at the triangle of cloth that slows his progress to fully claiming her. "Then love me, on the bed...I can't hold onto you much longer, Dan!"

He does as she demands of him and lowers her onto the bed, trailing kisses once more over her thighs as her thong is pulled away over her trembling legs. His kisses and caresses coax her to open the way to taking her before he lies down between her soft thighs, and feels the tug of her hands on his hair before he finds his way to her moist heat. Layla's legs rest on his shoulders and he finds her with gentle kisses, and warming breaths upon her sex, his flickering tongue pressing and swirling, licking over the full length of her pussy's pink lips, her musky aroma strong in his nostrils.

Somehow she manages to coax him to kiss her, to stop these acts of foreplay. Is he plaguing her? Dan kneels between her thighs and she sees what will be brought into her body, a long and slightly curved staff of blood-gorged flesh with its domed tip, glistening with pre-cum that being with her has aroused. She shuffles down the bed and lies under him, does enough to take him in her mouth, her hands somehow gripping his shaft as she works him.

"You're doing that so well," he soon groans, looking down as she bobs her head, circles the tip with her swirling tongue, and shifts to suck on it more deeply. He moves and she trails kisses down his shaft before her lips close over his testicles, one then the other.

"I want to please you, take your mind off what's happening."

She wants to love him and do so intensely; in others she's gone down on having nothing on Dan, both in mind and body.

Dan shifts away from her, the long and slow sucking on his prick arousing the fearsome grip of longing that will only find one way of being eased, the expulsion of cum over her beautiful face. He pushes her hair away, just in case he cannot hold back what is building in his groin, the nagging pressure to let it go that he feels in his penis and sac.

"You'd better stop or I'll lose it in you going at it like this."

"I want that!" she gasps as his hands grip her breasts and he presses his mouth to her nipples, sucks on them hard, and lets them fall back. He pushes her breasts up to kiss the clammy warmth underneath them as his fingers trace a path down to her pussy, Layla pushing up from the bed to meet his increasingly frenzied claims. "We've got time, lots of time...don't hurt me! I know that you want to let it all go now that you've got me here with you...like this!"