The (Imaginary) Red Carpet

A red platform heel peeked out of the dark interior.

CLICK

A smooth, long leg slowly followed it.

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Then an abundance of creamy thigh came into view until the owner pulled her scarlet red dress down as she swung her second leg out of the limousine.

CLICK

Shimming her body forward, the snug-fitting dress crept back up her thighs as her buxom breasts materialized higher up out of the darkness.

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A shocked face appeared at last with a hand covering the exposed skin between her neck and breasts.

"All this for me? Oh, you shouldn't have."

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A loud, annoyed sigh came from amongst those watching from several feet away. The limousine driver offered a hand to help the busty blonde out of the backseat.

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"Thank you, Mr. Hank."

"Always a pleasure, Miss Woodsen," Dave Hank replied, with a grin and a nod. Working for Robert Ravers is always a treat. He then passed the young beauty's hand off to her awestruck date for the evening.

CLICK

"Thank you, Mr. Bishop. This heat and paparazzi attention is so overwhelming," Hannah remarked, earning an even louder annoyed sigh. "Still, my adoring fans must come first. A few more photos shan't take much longer."

A giggle could be heard near the location of the sigher. The honk of a car sounded further back on the driveway.

With that, Hannah raised the hand that Zack held up high, slowly twirling around to allow for pictures of the back of the dress and her awe-inspiring ass.

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"Oh, for fuck's sake, Barney, stop encouraging her," Taylor barked at the photographer. "You've taken more than enough pictures."

"I'm sorry that the paparazzi didn't show as much interest in you, Miss Bishop. However, there's no need to get jealous," Hannah responded, getting another round of giggles.

"Paparazzi? It's only fucking Barney!" spat out Taylor, after using up all her patience. "No offense, Barney. Stop encouraging her too, Chloe," the exasperated brunette said to the giggling redhead at her side. Off further behind her, Peter leaned against a post, glad that he wasn't the one Hannah used anymore as a prop for these moments.

After leaving Mrs. Bishop's SUV at Ravers Cabin, their group had transferred over to Mr. Ravers' limo for the trip to Wynwick Lodge. Upon arrival, they emptied out of the limo until Hannah spotted Barney Barrie taking pictures of the arriving guests. Barney, a classmate of theirs at both Azure Rocks High and Green Hills College, allowed himself to easily be sweet-talked into talking a round of photos as Hannah hurried back inside the limousine for her Hollywood entrance. The drawn-out process led to frayed nerves for Taylor and lost patience for the occupants of the cars backing up on the driveway.

"Should I stop?" asked the twenty-one-year-old summer employee for the Azure Rocks Gazette. A slim, brown-haired young man with wire-rim glasses, Barney looked out of place wearing his brown and tan checkered sport coat, gray bowtie, and tan slacks. A friendly, earnest and hard-working college student, Barney strived to be taken as a serious reporter, but his bumbling nature sabotaged his efforts at every turn. Starting at the Gazette as a paperboy more than a decade earlier, he still struggled to earn the respect of Richard Walker, the paper's owner, who barely tolerated his wife's longtime fondness for him. Only at Olivia's insistence did Barney get assigned to the lodge's reopening as a photographer.

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Fine, let her have a few more, but that's it," Taylor relented.

"Make me shine, Barney," Hannah commanded, slowly strutting toward him, with a mesmerized Zack following her lead.

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As he rattled off a long series of snapshots, Barney kept on backing up to keep Hannah framed in the center of his camera lens. Wrapped up in his efforts, he didn't pay one bit of attention to where he went. Only at the last moment as his foot backed off the last portion of the walkway did he realize he screwed up. Luckily for him, Peter knew of his old classmate's issues and anticipated his possible fall. He grabbed one of Barney's arm's to keep him from falling backward, and used his other hand to steady the camera.

"Thanks, Pete," the young reporter said in relief, looking over his shoulder at the shrubbery he would have fallen into. "If I broke another camera, Mr. Walker would've banished me to the morgue again."

The roar of an engine and shouts of anger drew the group's attention as a silver roadster zoomed around the waiting cars into the spot only vacated by the limousine. Jumping out of the car, Logan Ravers waved his hand dismissively at the disgruntled drivers behind him. Walking quickly around his sports car, he made eye contact with a random catering staff member, flipped his keys to him, followed by a small handful of bills.

"Park her somewhere safe, will ya," Logan ordered the shocked busboy. "And make sure to put up the top."

Opening the passenger door, he offered his hand to the gorgeous young woman that be brought as his date. A disheveled Poppy Dufor climbed out of the sports car.

CLICK

"Hey!" Hannah exclaimed as Barney rushed forward to take a picture of the newly arrived redhead.

"It looks like you've been replaced by the next piece of eye candy," Taylor remarked with a smirk.

CLICK

"Oh, Barney, you're the sweetest."

"Hey, don't forget about me. I'm a star attraction as well," Logan piped in. "Not too many Raverses have stepped foot on this property by invitation."

CLICK

"You make a detour, Pops?" Hannah inquired, walking over to her friend.

"Looks more like she wrestled with a haystack," Taylor noted sarcastically.

"Your hair is a mess, young lady. Just what have you been up to?" Hannah questioned in her fake mom voice. "And with such a young, impressionable date. Have you no shame!"

"About the same as you," Poppy shot back.

"See, Zack, this is the kind of fun we could have been up to if you hadn't brought the chaperones with you," Hannah said, looking over her shoulder at her date.

"Hannah," growled her best friend.

"I'm only kidding, Tay. Lighten up."

"Looks like you have your hands full as well tonight, Zack," Logan commented as the two teens bumped fists.

"At least your date isn't also your sister's best friend," Zack responded, getting a laugh back.

"I would hope not. That would mean I'm carting a twelve-year-old around with me." Logan's eyes swung over to take in the sight of a busty young woman in a snug-fitting, white strapless dress. "And who might this delightful creature be? Hello, hello, I'm Logan--Chloe?!"

"Hey, Logan," Chloe greeted back, her blushing face racing to match her hair color.

"See, I told you, Chlo," Taylor said, coming up behind her. Whispering, she added, "Although, let's stay away from this one, okay?"

"Doesn't Chloe look hot, Ravers. Poppy here might have a fight on her hands for sexiest redhead at the party," Hannah remarked, needing to add her two cents over Chloe's daring style for the night. "Our little butterfly is definitely taking her own detour with a guy tonight. That I'll make sure of."

---

"Ah, Congressman Barrow, welcome to Wynwick Lodge," Fiona greeted the representative for the local district. "Isn't Janine with you tonight?" the silver-haired beauty made a point to inquire about his wife as she noticed the college-aged blonde at his side.

"Um, no, Janine had to stay behind in D.C. for a charity fundraiser," Morgan Barrow answered after clearing his throat. "I've brought one of my staff members, Lucy."

"It's Lacey, actually. Lacey Cressy," the busty blonde said with a glare at her boss. "And I'm only a summer intern. You have an amazing home, Ms. Wynwick."

"It's really my son's lodge. He should be around here somewhere--Fletch, come over here," Fiona noted, turning to catch her son's attention.

"Lucy? After last night, really?" hissed Lacey at Congressman Barrow.

"Quiet," he snapped back before forcing a smile to his face. "Ah, there's the young man of the hour. Congratulations on this fabulous home of yours. I see a promising, ambitious young man, who I need to keep an eye on."

Cringing at the hard slap to his shoulder, Fletcher almost wished he hadn't won the lodge as he shook the man's far too strong of a handshake. Any patience he started the night with had evaporated after round after round of glad-handing that his mother made him perform. I need a reason to get--what...I know them!

"Nice to meet you again, but I gotta go. I have friends to greet," Fletcher hurriedly brushed off the politician to his mother's dismay and raced over to greet schoolmates that weren't necessarily friends.

"Zack Bishop, welcome to Wynwick Lodge! It's wonderful to see you."

"Uh, thanks, Fletcher," Zack awkwardly replied, unsure why Fletcher acted so excited to see him. They weren't friends, only speaking to each other in classes about schoolwork. "This place is huge."

"Yes, it is; gonna be a bitch to keep clean. I guess that's why they used to have those large staffs back in the day," Fletcher remarked, turning to the girl at Zack's side. "My, oh, my! McRose isn't just a name I see, Chloe, but a description of the family beauty. For I see that the rose has bloomed on the day of my grand party."

"Th-Thanks, Fletcher," Chloe stuttered as her heart fluttered. She couldn't believe all the attention her dress garnered her so far, especially as her host bent over to place a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.

"Don't lay it on too thick, Wynwick," a voice remarked. "You might **** on that silver tongue."

"Ah, I only do it to keep up with all your legwork, Ravers," countered Fletcher. For a moment, the two teenage members of rival families stared each other, until both broke into grins, fist-bumped, and then slapped their open hands against one another, sliding them away, and bumped fists again.

"What up, Logan Ravers. You like my new crib?" The name and friendly greeting silenced conversations once again, but not as many as before. Still, angry comments could be heard around their group.

Little did the guests know that starting in kindergarten, Logan Ravers and Fletcher Wynwick had been hated rivals. They competed for everything growing up. People began to speculate as they reached their early teens that the rivalry might turn violent like their ancestors. Then a curious development occurred. The two young lotharios started to compete for similar girls, discovering they shared similar tastes. Finally, last summer in need of a glass of water after a vigorous round of sex with a Golphin sister, they met in the hallway of the girls' home. Both cracked a smile over the odds of each of them picking up one of the sisters home from college on the same night. When it came time to return to the bedrooms, Logan and Fletcher simultaneously joked they should switch sisters. They did, thus beginning a strange new friendship.

"I'm expecting some parties this summer out here. Damn great parties," Logan remarked until he noticed all the hard stares and mumbled comments. "What's the deal with that?"

"Eh? Oh, don't mind them — a bunch of idiots. You should have heard the reception your uncle received," Fletcher commented. "So, you come alone or bring the fun with you?"

Before Logan could answer, Poppy parted her way between Taylor and Hannah. "Hi, little brother. I'm here!"

"It's stepbrother. Don't tell me you conned Logan into bringing you?"

"I don't need to con anyone. Logan's quite the chivalrous young man. He heard how my mean little brother didn't invite me to his party," Poppy pouted, wiping a fake tear from her eye.

"Oh, please. We both knew you were going to show up anyway," Fletcher said with a wave of his hand. "I just wanted to see how you managed without an invitation. I expected you to scale a wall, or row a boat into the cove. But, damn, Poppy, you came with a Ravers, and I bet--whoa, did you already fuck him?"

Poppy only answered with a wicked smirk.

"Damn, you really want to piss off my relatives. I'm surprised you didn't wait to do it where everyone could see," Fletcher commented. His eyes widened as his stepsister's smirk widened. "You didn't?"

"Uh, she had me pull off to the side of the service road, and um, lower the convertible top," Logan admitted, embarrassed over his romp with his friend's sister. "Sorry, man, but she can be quite persuasive."

"Yeah, tell me about it. Count yourself lucky that you don't have an older sist--stepsister that likes to seduce people around you," Fletcher said with an annoyed shake of the head.

"Have more of your friends arrived, darling?" Fiona inquired, coming up behind her son.

"Mostly people from school, Mom," he corrected her. "This is Zack Bishop, his sister, Taylor, Chloe McRose, Hannah Woodsen, and Peter Zander."

"Yes, I recognize many of you and your names. Not to mention that all your parents were invited tonight as well," Fiona noted, before individually greeting each of them.

"I love your dress, Ms. Wynwick," Hannah complemented, hoping and expecting to look that good at that age.

"Why, thank you, Hannah. And I must say, ladies, that I love your dresses as well," Fiona turned to look Poppy up and down. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have more details to attend to, as do you, Fletcher." Fiona then motioned to the redhead. "A word, Poppy?"

Leaving her date and friends, Poppy followed her stepbrother's mother into the cloakroom, who's attendant emptied out at the silver-haired woman's command. Fiona walked over to the shelf, grabbing several Kleenex tissues.

"You have cum running down your left leg, my dear," she said, handing the tissues over.

"I-I didn't know," Poppy admitted, her mood deflating. "I'm so sorry, Fiona. I didn't mean to embarrass you or Fletch."

"Yet, you came with Logan Ravers, when you know of the bad blood between our families dating back more than a century."

Finished wiping up Logan's cum, Poppy struggled to find the trashcan through her moisture-filled eyes. Looking up from her phone, Fiona pointed to the corner of the room, under the shelf. Finished, the older woman noticed the tears.

"There's no need to cry, my dear. Your friends mostly blocked you, so I don't believe very many people noticed your state," Fiona reassured the distraught redhead. "And you one-upped your brother, which is always a plus."

Poppy sniffled while nodding slightly.

"However, that dress is not acceptable. It's a wrinkled mess, and you might not have noticed, but there's a wet spot in the back that most certainly will provide evidence when it dries. Also, your hair is a downright mess." Fiona gave her another once over. "Young lady, you look like you were ridden hard and put back in the stable wet."

"I'm sorry again, Fiona."

"As I said, don't--ah, there's our help now. Come in, Grace."

"Hi, Poppy," the brunette greeted, eyes shooting open in shock at the sight of Fletcher's older stepsister.

"Hey, Grace."

"Grace is going to take you upstairs to my room--the back way and back stairwell, Grace. There I want you to select one of my dresses to wear for the evening. We're fairly close to the same size, although you might want to pick from my older dresses in the back of the closet. You will also need to fix your hair."

"Th-Thank you, Fiona," cried Poppy, rushing forward to hug the older woman, but stopping before she could wrinkle her dress. Instead, she kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Don't mention it, my dear. You're family."

"Tell that to Fletch," mumbled the redhead, getting a confused look from Fletch's mother. "He didn't invite me."

"What?!" Fiona exclaimed, her head swinging to Grace and back to Poppy. "I personally wrote out your invitation."

"Uh, Fletch wanted to play one of his games on Poppy, I think," Grace quietly informed her, regretting that she didn't tattle on her best friend sooner.

"Ugh! That son of mine. Sometimes I could kill him," Fiona remarked. "Well, he's not too old for me to put over my knee and spank some sense into him."

Both Grace and Poppy imagined the sight that Fiona conjured up and started giggling.

"Alright, now I need to have another word with Fletch. Poppy, Grace will help you find whatever you need."

"Thank you, again, Fiona," she repeated as the petite brunette led her away.

"Oh, Poppy, those Ravers men live up to the hype, don't they?" Fiona added with a knowing wink that shocked the redhead.