My mom died when I was 6 years old. After that it was just Dad and me. That's to say, just me, as dad busied himself with the business that had made him one of the richest guys in the state. In the years that followed there were no girlfriends, and he never brought a woman to the house, so I guessed he was going to professionals or getting blowjobs from secretaries.
One day in my senior year, a few weeks after my 18th birthday, Dad turned up with a woman who at first I took to be a business associate. Red haired, about 33, attractive but with a wolfish, penetrating stare, she was dressed in a smart business suit that didn't hide a big set of tits. When dad said that her name was Debra and they were getting married, I nearly passed out on the spot.
"Hi Chad, I hope we're going to get along" she said, though it sounded more like a threat than a hope. She fixed me with a cold green-eyed stare that sent a chill down my spine. Dad gawped at her like he was a teenager experiencing his first crush, nodding vigorously when she followed up with, "I'm sure you'll quickly get into the habit of doing things my way around here."
Oh Shit.
My first impressions quickly turned out to be correct. She made my life a living hell. She shouted, interfered and threatened, making sure that both of us did what she wanted, when she wanted. She snooped through my personal belongings, never gave me any privacy and was rude to my girlfriends - throwing most of them out of the house as soon as she found them. Strangely, though, she was more lenient with my male friends, though that didn't seem to apply to Mark, who unlike the others wasn't an athlete and was small and geeky.
Dad was 57 and rather overweight. One of the reasons why his marriage was such a big surprise was that I'd overheard him telling a friend of his that lately he'd lost interest in sex, and in fact, couldn't get it up. It became pretty clear that it was a 'domestic comfort in exchange for money' arrangement. Obviously Debra wasn't that bothered about the sex, unless she thought she could get away with getting some cock on the side. She knew, though, that if she was caught with her panties down, the prenup meant she'd be out on her ass without a penny.
After a while it was pretty clear that sex was more important to Debra than I'd thought, and maybe she was suffering from major sexual frustration. This was largely because I caught her checking me out all the time, and it seemed to me the grossest thing imaginable. She often barged into the bathroom and my bedroom, and when I wandered around the house in just a little pair of briefs as we were used to doing in our formerly all-male household, her eyes nearly popped from her head. I've got a pretty big cock - 9 and a half when erect and too thick for a girl to get her hand around, so I have a prominent package, especially in tight briefs; Debra seemed to spend a lot of time checking out every contour of my cockhead and balls. She also seemed to enjoy the rest of my wrestler's body, especially my tree-trunk legs.
