Elvira Gets Meddled With 2 (Patreon)

The door creaked open, letting Daphne in. The mistress of the house both was and wasn’t what Daphne expected. She was certainly as gothic as the house she lived in, with her long black dress and raven-colored hair and skin that made candle wax look ethnic. But she really was beautiful, with a sensual aura Daphne would’ve expected from some hot-to-trot cheerleader. And the sunny smile and bright look in her eyes that she greeted Daphne with were like the redhead was a long-lost friend, not a complete stranger needing help.

“Mi casa es su casa,” she enunciated—incorrectly, Daphne was pretty sure. “Just don’t casa feel, if you know what I mean?”

“The phone?” Daphne asked.

“Over there on the table. At least, it was the last time I called 1-800-SPANKME.”

Daphne felt the woman’s eyes on her as she went over to the table. For some reason, it made her swing her hips a little more than usual, seeing if the woman would avert her eyes or follow the motion of her slinky undulation.

The force of the woman’s gaze didn’t waver as Daphne picked up the phone and dialed the operator. She held the phone to her ear, but all she got was a quizzical expression. Her blue eyes swept over the voluptuous brunette as she tapped the switch hook, trying and failing to get a dial tone. “Your phone’s dead,” she told the woman.

“Really.” Arched eyebrows arched even higher and her bountiful hips seemed to swivel with every sultry step up to the phone. The woman took the phone from Daphne, listened to its dead air intently, then set it back on the hook. “I suppose you’re right. Sorry about that. Usually I keep things a little more lively. But at least it’s warm. Hot, even.”

Daphne felt the woman’s obvious leer on her. It made her feel like she were having her clothes stripped off her. A powerful, even intoxicating sensation. “Maybe you could give my friend and I a lift into town. I know it’s an inconvenience, but if there’s an ATM, I can pay you for your trouble.”

The woman laid her hand on Daphne’s slender arm. Her touch was charged with electricity. “My car won’t start. I was going to call a tow truck, but the lines are down.”

“Then you knew your phone was dead?” Daphne asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The woman’s face glowed with animal magnetism, her dark features radiant. “Why should you believe me? I’m a total stranger.”

“Great! Then I’m stuck here, with no way to get help for my friend!”

“It’s not as bad as all that. Let’s give it a few minutes; the phone could come back at any time. It’s been out for hours. They’re probably working on it right now. Let’s have a drink while we wait.” She turned, her clinging black dress licking each stride she took as she strode elegantly into the parlor. “I have just the thing to warm you up.”

Enthralled, Daphne followed. She probably should’ve insisted on bringing Fred inside to recover on a soft bed with lots of natural air, not crammed into the Mystery Machine with two other people and one dog.

But she found herself glad Fred wasn’t around to drool over this woman. She was exactly the kind of girl men went for—Daphne might’ve been pretty, but she was a seductress without even trying. Blatantly sexual with a touch of kink thrown in to spark the inevitable.

Daphne bit her lip, forcing those uncharitable thoughts from her mind. She had no reason to think of the girl as such a vixen. All she’d done was invite Daphne into her house and tried to be a good hostess. She might have some wicked thoughts behind those searching eyes and insistent lips, but Daphne wasn’t innocent of that herself.

The redhead blushed, her cheeks burning as the well-proportioned woman twisted about to catch Daphne’s considering eyes on her. The sultry smile opened her plump lips up to pearly white teeth.

“Since we’re getting to know each other, let’s start with what you should moan—you know, if I mess up your drink?” Her luscious body seemed to float as she slipped behind the bar. Long, graceful fingers fostered the wood with two tall glasses. With total ease, she slid ice cubes into both glasses. “I’m Elvira. Mistress of the Dark. Queen of Halloween. The host with the most T&T on TV… that’s tricks and treats. And you are?”

“I’m Daphne.” She took a seat on the couch that seemed meant for entertaining. “People call me Daph for short.”

Elvira liberally splashed scotch over the ice. “Let’s stick with Daphne. Why have it short when you can get it long, right girlfriend?”

Daphne was surprised to find she was short of breath, her heart skipping a beat at Elvira’s expectantly raised eyebrows. It seemed there was just something about Elvira: her clothes, her make-up, her hairdo, and her attitude… Part of Daphne wanted to dress up like her for Halloween and part of her wanted to know what Elvira looked like without the dress. Scant as it was in the first place.

Elvira brought the drinks over to the coffee table and set one down in front of Daphne. “Bottoms up… or wherever you want to put them.”

“I’ll just sit here for a while,” Daphne said, picking up the drink and giving it a slow sip. “Wow. This isn’t half-bad.”

“Guess you won’t have to moan my name then. Unless you, ya know, have a yen.” Elvira sat down on a large, comfortable velvet chair opposite Daphne’s couch. “Or is a zen?” Elvira crossed her long legs, the silken dress gliding sensually over her thigh. “Which is it, Z or Y?”

“Y, I think.”

“Yeah, and Y not?” Elvira asked, a husky note entering her voice. Her long fingers, the nails painted an inky black, curled around her glass of scotch. Her other hand toyed with the wisps of hair leading to her beehive updo.

Daphne settled into the soft, decadent relaxation of the couch, finishing her scotch almost before she realized she had started on it. “I guess I needed that… it was so upsetting, seeing Fred get attacked like he did… we really should bring him in here.”

“Give it a few minutes, at least. I don’t get many visitors up here—well, not on weekdays, at least. Let me have you all to myself a while before I let you outnumber me.”

Daphne’s eyes went to the deep cleavage Elvira sported, seeing her long painted nails play over it as they followed a trailing strand of hair between her breasts. Daphne thought again of Fred and again, she was glad he wasn’t there—but she didn’t feel jealousy at the thought of Elvira.

Maybe she wanted Elvira to herself?

That was silly… but then, she did spend practically all her free time with the gang. And she loved each and every one of them, particularly Fred, but having some time to herself… and to some fresh blood instead of the faces she knew as well as her own… well, of course it was appealing!

“You’re very good-looking,” Elvira said abruptly, her voice cheery but somehow laced with sex. “Sort of like Ann-Margret, but all kitten, no whip.”

Daphne felt a twinge of discomfort. She forced a smile regardless. Maybe Elvira was a lesbian… she certainly was strange enough in every other way… but Daphne didn’t have anything to worry about from her. She was straight, after all. Maybe if they’d sent Velma in, then there’d be reason for concern.

“Yes, Fred certainly is lucky to have me,” Daphne told her plainly, setting down her empty drink. “We’re seeing each other.”

“Hope you still like seeing him after the animal attack.” Elvira theatrically winced. “I know chicks dig scars, but I’m sure I’m the only one who doesn’t draw the line at Dr. Phibes!”

Daphne kept the wan smile on her face. “Are you married?”

“Not yet.” Elvira shamelessly adjusted her cleavage, pulling the dress a little lower down her bosom. “I can’t take being tied down.”

Daphne laid back into the soft cushions and drifted into relaxation. She hadn’t felt this fine in… it had to be years. She sighed aloud and then felt startled over it. Then she giggled at herself for being so silly.

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Daphne’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes opening wide in shock. “I’m sorry—I can’t believe I said that!”

“It’s fine!” Elvira enthused, seeming pleased, even excited by the joke. “I hate having to do all the laugh lines. It’s hard being the cut-up all the time. Sometimes I’d like to be the straight man—particularly when there’s a redhead in the room!”

Daphne swallowed uneasily, still trying to figure out why she’d said what she’d said. She might’ve mouthed off like that with the rest of the gang, but they were all good friends. They knew not to take each other’s jibes too seriously. But with a virtual stranger—what if she’d offended Elvira?

Then Daphne started giggling again. Imagine, offending someone like Elvira! It would be like Elvis telling her not to be so raunchy or Bob Newhart telling her she ought to be more outspoken!