My sister Janet and I felt there was something "not right" about father's new wife. Janet, she's 22 and two years older than me, always reckoned Amanda - who insisted on being called Mandy - was a gold digger.
"Jason," my sister said after one particularly heavy petting session had almost reached intercourse proportions, "I'm sure that bitch is only after daddy's money." I withdrew my hand from under her skirt and sniffed my fingers. "Don't do that," Janet laughed, slapping my hand, playfully.
Amanda was 35 and had married my father, a High Court judge - let's just call him Judge John, some of you may end up appearing before him - six months ago and while the tall, long-legged blonde with the perky 34-inch breasts had tried to ingratiate herself with us, there was something that kept us at a distance.
"Father and Mandy are going away tomorrow to some god-awful law conference in Leicester," said Janet. "And while they're away I'm going to do some digging."
The next day, my father - a 60-year-old, grey-haired, tall, distinguished gentleman - and his new wife, left our large Mayfair apartments and Janet went to work. I lay back on my bed and read a boring book. An hour later Janet burst in without knocking - that was fine, she'd often caught me by surprise stroking my 8 inch cock - and stood proudly by the bed. "Got it!" she exclaimed.
"Got what," I replied, already having forgotten her vow of the day before. "Look!" Janet held out a pack of playing cards. "Go on, stupid, look at them!"
I did and found they were no ordinary pack of playing cards. The red suits all featured a blonde with a black man, in all sorts of weird and wonderful sexual positions. The spades and clubs featured the same blonde with an erotic, busty ebony model.
"Beats me how people play cards with stuff like this," I said. "How the hell can they concentrate on the game!" Janet sniffed with derision. "Don't be so pathetically naive, you silly young brother," she said, "these cards aren't for playing with - they're for wanking with."
Then, snatching the pack back from me she added: "Anyway, that's not the point - look at the blonde, for crying out loud!" I took a card back and examined it. The queen of hearts showed a woman being taken in the rear by a big black cock. And that woman, I decided, was definitely a younger version of my stepmother!
"Gimme," said Janet, holding out her hand. "Look - here's the joker and on the bottom it reads 'Cock and Cunt Playing Cards, Copyright reserved: 1995'. I reckon these pictures were taken about 10 to 15 years ago.
"I'm going to get all these 52 cards copied, put the pack back in her naughty knicker drawer where I found it and then I'm going to confront the bitch with the evidence." I nodded: "And then what, oh smart one?"
Janet smiled evilly: "Then I'm going to make her our sex slave!"
"Sex slave?" I jeered. "Hey come on, sis, it's me, Jason you're talking to. You fancy her, don't you?" Janet looked miffed and mumbled: "Don't be silly, I just think she's a gold-digger." I laughed. "Long legs, cute arse, nice perky breasts - you fancy her because you're short with a fat arse and big tits."
Janet flicked a hand lightly across my face and smiled. "OK, so she's tall and I'm short, but my arse isn't big, it's cuddly - you keep grabbing it - and my tits, as you so crudely put it, are bigger." They certainly were - Janet's tits must have been 36 or 37-inch jobs if they were 1 or 2.
I pondered the situation. Janet was one of those goal-setters, a person who sought a target, achieved it, then moved on. She was a thruster, a pusher. I believed her when she said she'd make Amanda our sex slave.
"So," I said, carefully, "she's our sex slave, then what?" Janet looked scornfully at me. "Use your imagination, dunderhead. Each day we pick a card - I pick a card for you, you pick a card for me.
"Then whichever card is picked, Amanda has to play out the scene with us." The idea had me almost instantly erect. "It certainly has possibilities," I admitted. "See," said Janet, triumphantly, "you fancy her too. And you want to fuck her."
She had me there.
CHAPTER 2:
After father and Amanda returned from the Leicester law conference - "full of academics who've never sentenced a child molester in their lives" snorted my father when I asked how it went - we had a couple of days to wait before putting Janet's plan into action. Finally, father's chauffeur-driven Rolls-Royce arrived one morning to take him to the Law Courts in The Strand where he was presiding over a huge profile libel case.
As soon as he'd left, we swung into action. As planned, we decided to be absolutely outrageous. I undressed down to a shiny red satin thong, cut quite high on the hips, which was just as well because my cock needed all the room it could get to expand.
Janet chose a very provocative pair of black satin panties which clung really tightly across her crotch, showing her prominent pudenda. Her breasts were slung up into stunning uplift by a matching half-cup satin bra, which showed the tops of her areola, but just covered her nipples. She wore a pair of three-inch high heels, which gave her something like Amanda's height.
Then we marched into the lounge, where our stepmother was lying back on a couch reading a society magazine. Janet held a large A4 envelope in her hand and stepped to the side of the couch. I stood beside her.
Stepmother looked up and smiled: "What's this kids, a lingerie fashion parade?" Janet, to my astonishment, leaned down and slapped her hand across Mandy's face. "Shut up bitch, get your legs off the couch and look at these!" She dropped the envelope on the couch and stepped back.