As the time for Dylan's arrival approached, Annabel found herself growing more and more nervous. What would Dylan think of the strange relationship between Annabel and her stepdaughter? What if she disapproved? This was not part of Carla's circle, but an outsider. What if she told someone, who told someone, who told someone else, until the whole world knew?
She found herself half-hoping that Dylan would cancel, but then she heard a car approaching, and saw Dylan park and start walking toward the house.
Annabel took the opportunity to check herself one last time in the full-length mirror. After spending half the afternoon making her try on practically everything in her closet, looking for just the right outfit, Carla had put Annabel in one of her own skirts -- a black-and-white-striped mini -- and a white camisole top. She also had on heels and black stockings that came up to just above her knees, leaving a nice expanse of bare thigh. Underneath she was wearing her crotchless panties and cut-out bra.
The doorbell rang and Annabel scurried to answer it, her heart pounding. She opened the door to find Dylan holding a bottle of wine, looking radiantly lovely in a tight, low-cut green dress. They exchanged greetings and Annabel could tell that Dylan's eyes were immediately drawn to her collar. Seeing Dylan see the collar, she blushed furiously.
That afternoon, Annabel had asked Carla if she might please be excused from wearing the collar when Dylan came over. When Carla just stared at her, Annabel had backed off right away, mumbling meekly, "Never mind."
Annabel led Dylan to the kitchen, where Carla had again taken charge of the meal. She was in front of the stove stirring a pot of sauce when they entered.
"Dylan, this is my stepdaughter Carla," she said. "Carla, this is Dylan."
Carla quickly sized up the newcomer. She was even more beautiful than Annabel had described, with long, slightly wavy red hair, alabaster skin, and a perfectly sculpted set of curves. Her dress displayed a substantial but tasteful amount of cleavage -- enough to show off without bragging.
"Nice to meet you," said Carla, wiping her hand on her apron and extending it. She herself had dressed straightforwardly in black jeans and a blue tank top, content for now to let Annabel outshine her. The way they were dressed, Carla looked like the mature woman, Annabel like the young girl just out of her teens.
"Nice to meet you too," answered Dylan. "It smells wonderful in here."
"Thanks," said Carla. "I learned to cook from my Italian grandmother. I'll never be as good as she was, but I keep trying." They both laughed. "Annabel," she added, "get our guest something to drink."
Carla's tone was mostly neutral, but with just enough of an edge to get Dylan's attention -- it was pretty clear who was in charge here. She was dying to know about the collar, but figured things would become clear soon enough.
The meal was a little less virtuosic than the one Carla had made for the party a few days previously, but still delicious and satisfying. Afterwards they adjourned to the deck, where they stood by the back railing staring at the ocean. A nearly full moon hung in the sky and was reflected in the water, bathing the three of them in white light.
* * *
Throughout dinner the sexual tension between the three of them had been palpable. Dylan tried to play it cool, although she had been dying to get into Annabel's panties for weeks now, and having Carla as part of the deal only made it that much more exciting.
The dynamic between the two of them was clear enough: Annabel was completely in Carla's thrall, and every few minutes would sneak an admiring glance at the younger woman. But then Dylan noticed Carla doing more or less the same thing, only more subtly. Clearly there was something very powerful between them.
Dylan felt very fortunate to be included, though as the meal went on she found herself growing impatient. Carla was a very gifted conversationalist, able to carry on for an extended period of time without ever touching on a sensitive or controversial subject. It seemed like she was trying to stretch things out as long as possible, to show how much in control she was.
Trying not to look too eager, Dylan did her best to keep up with the chatter, though by the time they got to dessert the pleasing warmth between her legs had turned to a burning ember of need. The several glasses of wine she'd had to calm her nerves weren't helping the situation. So it came as a relief when Carla poured each of them a brandy and suggested they head outside.
