Stephanie's Scheme part 1
If there was one film I really hated when I was sixteen, it was Bill and Ted's excellent adventure. It was one of those films that every single kid in town sees over the course of a weekend. You're nobody in school on Monday if you don't know the jokes from the movie. Bill and Ted's was that movie in the Fall of '92 . I hated that film. Why I hated it is kind of a long story, and it has to do with more people than just me, and my part in the story isn't one I'm very proud of, but it has a lot to do with the way I am today, and it has an important moral that I think that everyone who cares about their family or who has ever loved someone too much should hear, so I'll tell it anyway, and I'll tell it exactly how it happened.
In the early Summer of 1992 my Dad finally decided to remarry. It had been four years since he and my Mom split up and he'd been dating this girl for like six weeks when he announced that they were getting married in June. I had never even seen her at the time he made this announcement. He'd been sneaking off to see her, kind of guiltily. I knew he had a new girlfriend from the phone calls and dates and all, but I thought there was something suspicious about this one, since he'd never brought her around to our house, not even for five minutes before the two of them went out to dinner or whatever. Don't get me wrong now, I didn't resent him having a girlfriend or even remarrying. Heck no. My Dad had had a tough time. My Mom had run off with one of his work colleagues after having a very public affair, and they'd had a very messy divorce. Since then, he'd done his best for me and my sister, and I wasn't some punk kid jealous of my Dad's attention. So, when he told me that 'Miss Taylor' had agreed to marry him I tried my best to look happy for him, but I had a feeling there was more to this. Indeed there was. It turned out that 'Miss Taylor' was Chérie Taylor. She was only twenty five, and she worked as a secretary in our school. Chérie was really good looking. She was just the kind of woman that a man at my Dad's stage of life would go for. Problem was, she was also just the kind of woman that a kid of sixteen would go for too. In his dreams.
Soon after the announcement, Dad brought Chérie over to meet me and Stephanie. My older sister. Stephanie had not taken the news of our Dad's impending remarriage as well as I had. I'd heard her yelling at him in the kitchen when he told her. I couldn't hear what she said exactly, but it sounded pretty angry. Stephanie was three years older than me and starting to treat me with the special kind of contempt that older sisters reserve for their brothers during the years between first catching them sneaking looks at their tits, and when they finally move out of home. Anyway, I didn't then care what Stephanie thought about Chérie. I felt I wasn't so much gaining a stepmother as a live-in wank fantasy.
On the evening of this first visit I found that I was nervous about meeting Chérie. I didn't know it at the time, but I was hoping she'd like me. I wanted to impress her. At school she wouldn't know me from two hundred other kids but she was going to move in with us straight after the wedding, and that was only a few days off, so this was a real fast get-to-know you session. I'd been fantasizing about Chérie since Dad had told us about her, but before this evening I'd only ever seen her from a distance in school. This would be up-close.
Stephanie and I were sitting in the lounge, waiting. I kept zapping channels on the TV.
"What the fuck are you so keyed up about, moron?" Asked Steph. "She isn't coming over to see you."
She always talked to me this way. She'd been pissed off in general since Mom had left, but she reserved the worst of her bile for me. It was a brother-sister thing.
"Yes she is." I said, "She's coming over to see both of us." I knew what Stephanie meant, but all the same, the point of the visit was so that we could start to get to know each other.
Stephanie rolled her eyes. "You are so fucking dumb. Do you really think she gives a shit about 'Getting to meet the kids?'" She asked, her voice laden with sarcasm.
Stephanie was starting to be really good looking. She didn't try to look glamorous like a lot of girls her age, but she could have if she'd wanted to. She went more for a 'Grrrl' look. She kept her hair fairly short. She wore combat pants and short cotton tops. She'd had a lot of piercing's and tattoos done since Mom left. Dad never said a word about it, though our Mom would have stopped her if she'd been around. I suspected Dad was a bit scared of her. He probably told himself that he was just giving her space, since she'd taken his and Mom's break up kind of badly, but in truth, he knew she'd tell him where to get off if he tried to stop her doing stuff like that. Actually, I probably didn't realize all that at the time, and I only put it together afterwards, or maybe it was somewhere in my subconscious even then. It was a strange time for me.
That evening she was wearing army boots and really short, cut-off pink denim shorts, and a black cotton belly-top. She seemed to have taken a lot of care with her makeup. Apart from her clothes, she looked a lot older than nineteen. I wondered if Chérie coming over had anything to do with the way she'd done her makeup. She was lying almost flat on her back on the settee, her bare legs crossed over each other, stretched out horizontally in front of her, supported by a stool. I was sitting beside her cross-legged. Dad had been gone about twenty minutes. He and Chérie would probably be here in ten.
"What do you mean?" I asked, frowning. "If she isn't coming over to 'Meet the kids' then what is this visit for?"
"To check this place out, dummy. To see what he's got." Said Steph, with exaggerated slowness, as if explaining to a child. "Okay, She probably has a fair idea of how much he makes already, but she wants to check this place out for herself, make sure she's getting what she was promised."
I looked around the lounge stupidly. At fifteen, how well-off your family is is kind-of like background information. If things are stable, then money isn't really an issue. I suppose we were well off, maybe very well off. We had a swimming pool. My Dad had a Land Rover and a sports car. A massive stereo unit hulked silently in the corner of the lounge. Our house was probably one of the largest in town. Maybe in the top ten houses. Maybe the largest. We were pretty rich. It had never really occurred to me before.
I suppose the dawning realization must have shown itself on my face.
"You have got to be the stupidest thing on the planet." Said Steph. "I bet when he told you that he was marrying Chérie Taylor, all you thought was - "Wow she's so hot. I wonder if I'll get to see her in her panties round the house?" You fucking dummy." Stephanie snorted and snatched the remote from me. She flicked over to MTV and turned up some rock video really loud. She was pissed off. I tried not to blush at her accurate guess at my reaction to the news that Chérie would be living with us. I didn't know what to say. I was absorbing this information, and letting my gaze wander over Steph's outstretched legs when she spoke again, fiercely, through clenched teeth. "And quit fucking staring at my fucking legs you sick little pervert" She was still looking straight at the TV, and she hadn't looked round. How could she tell where I'd been looking? I quickly looked away.
"I wasn't looking at you, you stuck up bitch." I said. "Who'd want to look at your legs anyway."
"What the fuck did you say?" Said Steph, her voice rising in astonished anger at my insult. I didn't answer, I couldn't meet her gaze when she was this angry. I didn't think what I'd said was that bad, but she clearly was really pissed off, almost shocked at my impertinence in talking back to her. There was a long pause. I could feel the crackling tension in the air. I didn't want to look round to see her face, but she wasn't going to say anything more either. The seconds dragged by. I couldn't stand it. I turned, and as I did so, I tried to defuse the tension by saying "Ahhh, come on Steph, your legs aren't that ba..." But the words died in my throat. Stephanie was staring at me with a look of pure hate.
"You think that bitch has good legs do you? You'll be thinking about her legs when you pull yourself off tonight will you? You'd like to have Chérie's legs wrapped around your ears would you? You make me puke, you really do." And she got up and stalked out of the lounge, leaving me confused and slightly horny.
Of course she was right. When Chérie came over I couldn't help but steal glances at her legs. To make matters worse, she was wearing a fairly short tan dress, just above the knee, and, my favorite, chocolate brown pantyhose. When she sat on the settee in the lounge and crossed her legs, I knew Steph would be watching me watching her, but I just couldn't help looking all the same. It would have been impossible not to since Chérie had chosen to sit right in front of me. She was lovely, I'd forgotten all Steph's bitchiness the moment Chérie arrived. Chérie was funny and sincere and really gorgeous. My Dad was delighted that we got on so well. Even Steph. seemed to make an effort. Actually she was more than just civil, she was almost friendly. Either she had decided to make the best of this, or she had some sort of plan. Certainly she played the perfect prospective stepdaughter to a tee. I tried to match her charm, but ended up seeming like more of a prospective eager puppy. When Chérie smiled at me, I felt light headed. She didn't have to even try, I was like melting chocolate in her hands. By the time she left I had a boner the size and consistency of a hammer handle in my jeans. I had to go whack off. Dad was dropping Chérie back to her place where they were going to discuss wedding arrangements for hours so this was the perfect opportunity.
I went into the bathroom and locked the door. I went down on my knees and pulled my jeans and boxers right down. Normally I'd have taken a while to get started but this time there was no need. I closed my eyes and pictured Chérie just as she had been sitting on the lounge. Then she began to pull her skirt up slowly, smiling at me all the time, revealing more and more of her thighs. Jesus she was hot. Then she slowly spread her legs, letting me see her cream-colored panties beneath, just visible through the thicker, darker fabric of the panty of the chocolate colored pantyhose. My imagination ran on smoothly. Smiling all the while, Chérie produced a Hershey's Extra Dark chocolate bar from her handbag and slowly unwrapped it. I looked her full in on her face. She smiled, and, opening her mouth, sensuously drew her wet, pink tongue over the warm chocolate bar. It left smeared, rich chocolate stains on her dark, red, lipsticked lips, on her chin and on her cheeks. Keeping her eyes fixed on mine, she slid the bar all the way into her mouth, sucked on it very gently once, and then withdrew it slowly through her pursed lips, letting the melting chocolate smear over her lips and her fingers. She brushed aside her open blouse and pulled open her matching cream satin bra to reveal her full breasts and soft brown, erect nipples. She brought the oozing, melting chocolate bar down to her breast and smeared and swirled it over her breasts and nipple, as if putting the last delicious topping onto a rich, chocolate desert. As she cupped one breast with her chocolate-covered hand she said
"What the fuck are doing in there you little sicko? Are you wanking over Chérie already?"
My hand froze on my cock. I held my breath. Steph was right outside the door. But it was okay, the door was locked.
"I'm in the toilet Steph." I said, wincing at how stupid this sounded, even as I said it. Why couldn't she just fuck off and leave me in peace? I'd been really getting into that.
"I know you're in there, you spastic." Said Steph.
"And I know what you're doing. You're embarrassing Ken, you really are. You were so fucking obvious looking at her legs, and trying to look up her skirt. But that wasn't the worst, do you even know how pathetic you looked? Giggling at everything she said, and making stupid faces. You were more like a kindergarten girl trying to impress teacher than anything. Even Dad was embarrassed and he's almost as bad as you."
"Fuck off Steph." Was all I could think of to say.
"No, You fuck off, Ken." Said Steph through the door. "If you can't even wait five minutes before running in there to wank off over her then what the hell are you going to be like when she's living here. You're embarrassing enough as it is. Do you think people won't know what you're doing? Do you think the lovely Chérie won't guess immediately? You're going to make this family seem even more pathetic than it is and I won't allow that. Now you finish up in there and come out. We've got to talk."
There was silence. I was so stunned by what she'd said that it took me a minute to realise that she'd stopped. How could she know what I was doing. She was guessing surely? She had to be. Was she gone? I didn't know. All I knew was that I still had a boner and a date with Chérie's chocolate.
She was back to sucking the melting bar, sliding it in and out of her mouth. Her other hand smeared chocolate and saliva over her left beast and nipple. The pantyhose had turned into a pair of similarly colored stockings and her panties were down around one ankle. She slid forward down the settee, spreading her legs as she did so, so that her thighs were on either side of my face. The stocking tops were lacy and tight, with a thin silver thread worked into the pattern. The contrast with the wonderful soft flesh of her generous inner thigh was wonderful. With a mischievous smile she moved the now almost totally melted bar down to her exposed, neatly trimmed pussy and with a slight wince, pushed it all the way into herself. The melted chocolate piled up on her warm pussy lips and began to ooze very slowly downwards. "Would you like some chocolate Ken?" She asked with a giggle. I moved forward.
"Are you coming out or not?" Shouted Steph from outside the door. Jesus! She was still there.
"No." I said.
"Oh for fuck's sake, hurry up and come. I'm going out and I need to talk to you." Said Steph, exasperatedly.
"Just go away Steph." I said desperately.
"I am not going away. If you think you're going to take hours over your wank then I have news for you - you're not. Pull yourself off now and come out here or I'll come in and get you."
She couldn't do that. The door was locked. I wondered if I could still continue with her shouting at me from outside. Chérie's chocolate pussy lips were still there, her lovely stockinged thighs, waiting to close over my ears as I moved forward....
Click. Click. The door was unlocked. What the fuck? Steph walked into the bathroom and stood in front of me. I gaped at her, cock still in hand.
"Don't look so fucking stupid Ken. I have a key to every room in the house. Now get on with it or I'll kick you in the balls where you are. No! don't fucking stop, I want to tell you something and I know you won't be able to listen to anything while your little pecker is in charge." She went down in front of me, on her hunkers, so she was level with my face. "Come on, Ken. I'm giving you sixty seconds and then these boots are going straight into those blue balls.
"Steph." I began "I, I ..."
"Can't?" Finished Steph for me. "Do I put you off? Can't you conjure Chérie up while I'm here in front of you? What's she doing? Is she spreading herself for you? Are you actually imagining you're fucking her. Shit, that's a powerful imagination."
"No. No I'm not... " I started. She cut me off again.
"No? You're right, that's just too unlikely. Spanking you maybe? Dressing you up in her panties? Hmmm? Is that what has your little pecker so hard?"
"No!" I shouted, even more embarrassed at these notions. But even as I said it, these wonderfully erotic images lodged themselves in my mind.
"No, it's nothing like that." I said, quietly. My hard-on was failing in spite of everything.
"Oh No." Said Steph, looking down at my drooping cock. "Come on Ken. You can do it. Just grab hold of yourself. I'm already in here, and I've seen you having your filthy little wank, so pulling yourself off in front of me isn't any worse, and believe me the kicking you'll get if you don't will be very, very real."
Suddenly, she took hold of my hand and moved it onto my turgid cock.
"I'll start your minute from now, to be fair. Start pumping."
I looked into her eyes. She was serious. I began to move my hand up and down. I closed my eyes. Chérie was a little alarmed and a bit out of focus. I pulled back to get an overall look, and with a couple of stokes and deep breath she was smiling again.
"Tell me what you see, little brother." Said Steph from somewhere else. At that moment I don't know what came over me. I think it was something to do with the tone of voice that Steph used, but I started to talk.
"I see Chérie with her legs spread on the settee. She's wearing dark chocolate-coloured hold-ups and black heels. She's been eating a really melty chocolate bar and her mouth and breasts are covered in chocolate. She's just pushed the rest of the bar into herself..." Oddly, I was kind of proud of my vision.
"Mmmmmm. Chocolate." Came the voice. Steph seemed to like the idea too. "It's melting inside her. Why don't you move in and lick some out of her pussy Ken? That's what she wants isn't it? That's it. She's spread her lips for you. Oooooh. That's it. She likes that, your tongue licking the tangy chocolate from her pussy lips. Soft and silky. There's more inside her. Go on. Deeper. Can you feel her soft thighs closing over your cheeks? Can you feel the nylon of her stockings against your ears? Stroke your tongue against her lips. Lick it all up Get your tongue inside inside. Her hands are clasping on the back of your head and she's pullllling you closer. Harder. Oooooooh. That's so good. She loves the feel of your tongue on her. Inside her. Open your mouth wide Ken."
I was stroking and pulling myself, and it was as if I was lost. Steph's words went straight from my ears to the most primitive part of my brain. It was as if she could paint inside my skull. I opened my mouth. her words and my imagination made the vision almost more than real inside my head.
"That's it, work your tongue inside. Oh Mommy likes that. Get your tongue in. Hard licks, soft licks. Always against the top. She's pulling you closer. That's even better than Daddy's cock inside. Oooh, baby likes his chocolate. There's a little more deep inside. Oh it's all gooey. Oh, it's all coming out now. Liquidy, melted. Chocolate flavored pussy. Pussy flavored chocolate. Lick, lick, lick. Slurp it up. Is baby going to come for Mommy? Is baby going to to spunk all over Mommy's feet? Is baby getting his chocolate? Is the chocolate all gone now? Have you drunk it all down? But you still have to lick Chérie's lovely little bud, don't you? Mmmmm. Is it slippery against your tongue? Get it between your lips. That's it, that's it, rub your tongue over it. Mommy's little button. . Lap it up. Lap it up. Ooooh Mommy likes that. Ooooh Baby likes it too. Oh! That's it baby, come for Mommy now Ken! Come! Come! Aaaaaahhh!". And I covered the end of my cock with the waiting tissues and jerked and spasmed, my eyes tight shut, wrenching myself into the tissue as I came with the delicious acid strokes and my sister's voice echoing in my head.
When I was done I didn't want to open my eyes. Steph said nothing. I knew I would eventually have to face her.
She was standing above me, leaning down, her hands on her knees, a smile of triumph on her face.
"Hey, little brother. You looked like really got into that. Now clean yourself up and come with me. Come on. I told you I'm in a hurry."
She turned and walked out of the bathroom and into her own room. I looked down at the mess I'd made. The tissues had not been sufficient to the task. I cleaned up, feeling spent and empty. It was easy not to think about what had happened, at least for a minute or two after I'd come, but slowly I began to realize what I'd done, what Steph had seen, what I had admitted to her.
"Are you deaf, you moron? What is the holdup?" Shouted Steph from her room.
I dumped the tissues into the toilet and hurried into her room.
She was pulling on a pair of jeans when I walked into her room. I caught a brief flash of her white cotton panties as she zipped herself up. She caught my eye and gave me a pained look. She didn't seem mad at me, just impatient. She'd changed her top too. Now she was wearing a skintight black, sleeveless cotton tee. Her denim jacket lay on her bed. She'd changed the heavy boots for a lighter pair, but she was still very butch, in contrast with her softly made-up face, and feminine hairstyle. I realized that over he last few weeks Stephanie had created a 'look' for herself. The Grrrl clothes and boots offset by her almost girlish makeup and hair. She pinned a sparkly, pink plastic barrette into her hair as I watched her. "How do I look?" She asked. She had such confidence in herself.
"You look lovely Steph." I said. That sounded a bit pathetic, but it was true. My sister was gorgeous really. She accepted the compliment as if it were no more than her due.
"Right." She said. "I'm going downtown and I'll be going to the charity shop. I've sorted a bunch of clothes of mine and yours out and I'm going to donate them. " She indicated some piles of neatly folded clothes. There was a pile of stuff of mine that I'd either outgrown or never worn, and a few more of Steph's things, dresses, skirts, shoes and slacks. Steph turned and opened her panty drawer.
"Now, I'm throwing a lot of this stuff out but I thought you might want to keep some. I don't want to waste anything." She picked up two large piles of lingerie from the drawer and brought it over to the bed. She put them down beside the other piles and looked to me.
"You sort through that lot and see if there's anything you want to keep and I'll sort through the rest." She said, and turned back to her drawer. Despite what had just happened in the bathroom, this was a shock. My palms were sweaty and I felt a slight tremble run through me.
"W, W, What would I want with your panties Steph?" I asked, trying to sound surprised and nonplused, but ending up sounding guilty as hell, and feeble with it.
She looked at me over her shoulder. The same pained expression. "Don't fuck about Ken." She said. "You regularly sneak in here to borrow some of my skimpy panties to wear and jack off in. Now, I'm throwing out pretty much all of that stuff except for the plain white cotton ones I like. Some of this stuff doesn't even fit me anymore anyhow. So do you want to keep some or not?"
I just gaped at her. Had she known this all along? I'd been doing it for years. I'd thought that she had never noticed the panties, hose or slips moved around. It was true, a lot of it was too small for her now, and she never wore any fancy lingerie anymore it seemed.
"Look Ken, it's going to the charity shop if you don't say you want it, and I warn you, after today there'll be no more sneaking into my drawers. I'm getting locks fitted on all my drawers and wardrobes in here today, so no more Mr. Sneaky Panties for you."
She had sorted through another drawer as she spoke and now she put a pile of soft, satiny slips and cami-tops beside the panties, bras and other things. I bit my lip. It was all so lovely, I even had some favorites among the piles of shiny garments.
Steph. was watching me, gazing longingly at her underwear. She seemed puzzled. "You know, I've never seen the attraction." She picked up a pair of red lacy panties and matching bra. I knew these, they'd appeared mysteriously in her drawer a fortnight ago. "Greg bought these for me. He's always buying underwear for me, even though I almost never wear these things he buys. It's stupid." She turned to me. "What is it that turns you on about wearing it?" She asked, frankly, and without any irony or disdain. I gulped.
"I, I don't know Steph." I said, and as I do so, implicitly admitted everything that she had said.
Stephanie frowned. "Well, it had better not be anything to do with me. I mean, if I give you these and they're yours, you'll still wear them right? I mean, you don't want to wear this stuff just because it belongs to me? You like the panties for themselves?"
I knew what she meant, but I couldn't think. I just nodded.
"Because, like I said, this room is off-limits to you from now on. If you want panties you'll have to take them now, or else, I don't know, by your own. Keep them in your room. I'm making a few more changes around here too. I'm moving my laundry basket into the airing cupboard and yours too. That way, no-one will be able to tell who's underwear is whose. You'll need to throw some pairs of boxers or jockeys in there yourself, if you don't want anyone to know you're wearing my panties. Do you understand?"
I did. Again, I realized Steph. was miles ahead of me. In a few weeks Chérie would move in here. Our lives would be disrupted, and she was making preparations.
"Do you understand Ken?" She said again.
"Yes, yes Stephanie." I said.
"Now do you want to keep my panties or not? Just some? All of them?" She raised her eyebrow. I looked at the floor. She smirked in triumph.
"All of them. Right. Now gather them up and put them in your own room. You've wasted enough of my time already. I have more things to tell you about the changes I'm making around here, but they'll have to wait until after I get back. Come on now, pick up your panties and shoo. I'll be back before ten."
She stood there, waiting for me to pick up the piles. I realized it was now or never. I bent down and scooped up all the slippery, lacy and satiny underthings in my arms and made for the door. In my haste I dropped a pair of particularly silky black panties.
"Hold on, there." Said Steph and she bent and picked up the panties. I had to turn and wait. She took her time. She smiled and held up the briefs in front of me. "What do you say Ken?" She teased.
I tried to look down, to break her gaze, but of course, I was just looking into the mounds of lingerie in my arms.
"Please may I have the panties Steph?" I asked.
"Yes Ken, you may keep my panties." She replied and daintily placed the pair I'd dropped onto the piles I was clutching to me.
I tried to make for the door.
"You ungrateful little pup." Said Steph, angrily. "Would it choke you to say a simple 'Thank you.'?" She sounded genuinely hurt.
"I'm sorry Steph." I said, hurriedly."Thank you very much. Thank you, thank you."
"All right don't overdo it. Listen Ken, you're going to have to shape up. You understand?"
I nodded, and she dismissed me with a wave of her hand.