Lesbian Stepmother

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Authors: Amy Polino,Audrey Hart

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Lesbian

Stepmother

Lesbian Stepmother

is Copyright © 2012 by Playhouse Press

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be
reproduced in any form

or by any electronic means without permission in writing
from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places and characters
are either the

product of the author’s imagination or used
fictitiously.

This book is for sale to Adults Only.

It contains sexually explicit scenes which may be

considered offensive to some readers.

Book One:

Abbie

by Audrey Hart

Chapter 1

Turning the corner onto Chestnut Street, Rick noticed
that his wife’s Ford was parked in the driveway. Her hours as
a law clerk had been reduced recently and he was increasingly unable
to predict her schedule. He pulled up in front of the house, killing
the engine and settling back for a moment, finishing his paper cup of
take-out coffee. It was already getting cold, but it still tasted
pretty good. Better than the coffee Lonna made, that was for sure.

He took another gulp and glanced at the front windows
of the house. He didn’t see anyone. He knew she’d be in
there, sprawled on the couch and watching television, probably with a
drink in her hand, wasting time as usual. They’d only been
married for three months, and already he was growing irritated with
her laziness.

The clock on the dashboard read 4:38. Rick tried to
recall what time his daughter, Abigail, got home from school on
Wednesdays and couldn’t. She had just begun taking classes at
the community college a few months back, in January, and her schedule
was as much a mystery to him as was Lonna’s.

It shouldn’t matter, he knew, and yet it did.
His new wife and his daughter didn’t get along very well and
sometimes even fought. He’d come home on more than one
occasion to find them screaming at each other, tears in their eyes.
Abbie still missed her real mother, and wasn’t about to settle
for a replacement without at least some display of rebellion; and she
was rebellious by nature. It wasn’t always a problem, but Rick
never knew when one of their arguments was going to erupt. It was
more peaceful when one of them wasn’t at home, especially
during dinner.

Rick finished his coffee and climbed out of the car,
slamming the door. He was a very ordinary looking man, 41 years old
with short brown hair and glasses. He was slightly overweight, but
in relatively good shape for his age. As he made his way up the
front walk he unconsciously cocked his head, listening for sounds of
an argument from within his house. He didn’t hear anything.
He stepped up to the front door and let himself in.

Lonna, as predicted, was lying lengthwise on the couch,
her head propped up on a couple of pillows as she watched a movie on
TV. There was a plastic tumbler on the coffee table in front of her,
and Rick had no doubt that whatever it held included some type of
booze.

She looked over at him. “Oh, god. Is it that
time already?”

“Nice to see you too.”

“I’m sorry.” She sat up, swinging
her legs off the couch. She used a remote control to pause the
movie. “I got home later than usual, and lost track of time.
I didn’t even start dinner yet.”

Rick sighed. “Want me to call for a pizza?”

Lonna picked up her glass and took three long swallows.
She looked very good. Her short blonde hair was always well styled,
making her face look even younger than it probably should. At 40,
she could still pass for 34. She was tall and had a long, slim
figure, with generous breasts and perfectly shaped legs. Her green
eyes, although beautiful, were slightly clouded over, the result of
her newly-acquired habit of steady drinking. “Do you
want
pizza?”

Rick crossed the room, glancing around for signs of
Abigail. “Not really. But it’s easy. Is Abbie home?”

Lonna took another sip from her tumbler and returned it
to the table. “No. Not yet. Probably any minute.” She
stood up, stretching. “If you’d like, I could boil some
spaghetti.”

“Do you
want
to boil some spaghetti?”

She looked at him, her fingers tucked into her pockets.
It was warm in the house and she had stripped down to nothing but a
pair of shorts and a baggy t-shirt. “I’d be glad to make
dinner if you’d like. Otherwise we can order the pizza. It’s
up to you.”

Rick would have liked for her to cook dinner, but he
would have liked it even better if it had already been done. And
Lonna’s spaghetti was nothing more than boiled noodles with
half a jar of Ragu dumped over the top. It wasn’t the least
bit tempting. “I’ll order a pizza. You relax. What do
you want on it?”

Picking up her glass again, Lonna stepped over to him
and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “You know me. I’m
partial to green peppers.”

Rick put an arm around her and tried to pull her in for
a real kiss, but she playfully twisted away, feigning a smile. “Can
I get you something to drink?” She shook her glass, rattling
the ice. “I need a refill.”

“You always need a refill.” Rick was sorry
as soon as he said it.

Lonna froze, glaring at him. She didn’t look
happy. “That’s not fair, and you know it.”

“I’m sorry.” He took a step toward
her, but she countered it with a step back.

“I’ve had to put up with a lot since moving
in here.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t
mean anything.”

“No, you never do.” She lifted the tumbler
to her mouth and tried to take another drink, but there was nothing
left but ice. “And neither does Abbie. It’s your house,
and her house, and you both just love to shoot your mouths off at me
and then tell me you didn’t mean it.” She knew she was
venting, but couldn’t help it.

Rick was tired of it. “Not this again. All I
said was --”

“I know what you said. You said I always need a
refill. And sometimes I do. It’s hard for me, trying to fit
in here, where I know I don’t belong.”

“You
do
belong...”

“I don’t belong. You can say I do, because
you want me to, sort of. But Abbie hates me and always will.”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“She does. No matter what I do, no matter what I
say, no matter how hard I try to be her friend, she’ll never
accept me. I sit here for hours, dreading her walking through that
door and giving me that godawful look.”

Rick was shaking his head. He just wanted to eat
dinner and relax for a few hours before going to bed. “What
look?”

“The look that says I’m an interloper. An
unwelcome guest. A piece of shit that got dragged in on the bottom
of her shoe.”

“Oh, come on.” He took another step toward
her and she spun away into the kitchen, slapping her glass down on
the counter. He followed her, stepping up behind her and placing his
hands on her shoulders, squeezing them. She tensed up at his touch
but didn’t pull away. “I think you’re overreacting
a little bit.”

The vodka bottle was right there, and she uncapped it,
pouring a generous amount into her glass. “I’m not
overreacting. I’m just reacting. If you don’t like the
way I’m reacting, maybe you should think more about what it is
I’m reacting to.”

Rick continued to massage her shoulders. “Okay,
okay, I already said I’m sorry. Let’s talk about
something else.”

Lonna replaced the cap and set the bottle down.
“Alright. Sweeping things under the rug is always a
constructive option.”

Rick sighed again, dropping his hands. “Do you
want to talk about something? Has she been bothering you again?”

“She doesn’t bother me. She hates me.
Even when she’s not home, I can still feel the resentment.
It’s like...” She spun around, tears in her eyes. She
wiped them away, quickly. “It’s like she blames me that
her mother decided to run off with some other guy. As if I had
anything to do with it. It doesn’t even make
sense!

“She doesn’t blame you. She just...”
Rick shrugged. “She blames everyone, I guess. Including me.
I didn’t have much to do with it, either. Gloria had been
cheating on me for quite awhile with that asshole before I even found
out. Anyway, Abbie is just unhappy right now. It’s got
nothing to do with you, not really.”

“Maybe not, but it certainly affects me. And she
acts like it’s my fault.” She stepped over to the
refrigerator and opened the door, taking out the bottle of cranberry
juice.

“I’ll have a talk with her when she gets
home.”

“There have been plenty of talks already. They
don’t lead anywhere. She’s already made up her mind that
I’m her enemy.” She dumped some juice into her glass.

“I’ll talk to her anyway. We can’t
just let things continue on this way. Like you said, sweeping it
under the rug is no solution.”

Lonna looked at him. She nodded. “Alright. You
can talk to her, but it’s not going to do any good. You can’t
talk someone into liking someone else.”

“I can try.”

She nodded. They’d been through it many times
before and gotten nowhere. She was suddenly tired of thinking about
it. “Alright.”

“I know we’ve tried before, Lonna. Don’t
give up. We’ll keep trying. Eventually it will work.”

She nodded, stirring her drink.

He stood staring at her for a moment. “You want
anything besides green peppers?”

She thought about it. “You pick something, too.
Anything but meat.”

Rick nodded. He stepped into the living room to make
the call.

Chapter 2

It was about half an hour later when the pizza came.
Rick paid for it and carried the box into the kitchen, taking two
plates out of the cabinet and placing a slice on each. He closed the
box and brought the plates back to the couch, handing one to Lonna
and taking a seat beside her.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome.” Rick took a swig
from his can of diet Dr. Pepper and then lifted his pizza.

“I see you chose green olives.” Lonna was
staring at her pizza, sipping from her tumbler.

Rick hesitated. “Is that bad?”

“No, no. It’s okay.” She continued
staring at it. “A little salty, maybe.”

Rick wasn’t in the mood for an argument. He was
starting to think it may have been a mistake to marry Lonna before
really getting to know her. He’d been very depressed after
Gloria’s betrayal and Lonna was just so beautiful. He never
even really thought she’d agree to go out with him, and two
months later they were tying the knot. It had all happened very
quickly, her moodiness somehow not registering until recently. “I
asked you to pick something else, and you left it to me.”

“I know. I remember. This is fine.” She
lifted the pizza to her mouth and took a small bite.

“If you don’t like it, I can order another
pizza. It’s not a problem.”

Lonna was chewing. “No, it’s fine. The
olives are fine.” She swallowed and took another sip of booze.
As she did, there came the sound of footsteps on the front porch.

Rick quickly took a big bite of his pizza, filling his
mouth. He hated confrontations.

The screen door opened with a clatter and Abigail
stepped in, her purse slung over one shoulder and a knapsack in her
hand. She glanced at the two of them sitting there and tried to rush
past into her room.

“Hi, honey,” Rick said, his mouth still
full. “You want some pizza?”

Abigail paused, looking at him. “What?”

Rick chewed quickly and swallowed his mouthful of food.
“Pizza. Sit down and join us.”

“No thanks.” Abigail was on the final week
of her nineteenth year, her birthday only two days away. She was a
very attractive girl, not beautiful, but certainly close. She had
long dark hair and an athletic figure, and had recently discovered
body piercing, having gotten a ring through her nose and another
through her lower lip. She favored all black clothing, and since the
weather had begun warming up had been wearing skimpy blouses and
skirts, with black stockings and boots, giving her a slightly gothic
appearance.

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