Anyone for Cards? Ch. 01

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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.


After father and Amanda returned from the bayan esmer escort bursa 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.

Mandy looked startled, her big blue eyes widened. “I don’t think I like your tone, young woman …” But I cut her off. As we had arranged, it was now my turn to act the tough guy. “Shut up and do as she says, tart,” I hissed, in a phrase I’d rehearsed for days, “or I’ll give you a thrashing you’ll never forget!”

The tall blonde looked startled, then, her curiosity getting the better of her, reached for the envelope. The import of its contents dawned on her in an instant. “Look, Janet and Jason, I can explain …,” Mandy started, but Janet leapt in: “Shirt and slacks off, keep your shoes on, into my bedroom now!”

With that, Janet picked up the envelope and we walked swiftly to her large bedroom, leaving the door wide open. Janet and I looked at each other, hardly able to breathe. Janet put her hand up and crossed her fingers. Moments later we heard the sound of high heels clip-clopping down the corridor towards us. Janet whispered “Yeeeees!”

Through the door walked Mandy. And she was a stunning sight. Almost six feet tall in her high heels, her body was like gleaming alabaster. Her pert 34-inch breasts were encased in a sheer black bra, so sheer that her lovely large nipples were plainly visible through the material.

At her crotch a little black wisp of lace covered her pussy but did nothing to hide the fair hair nestling on her mons. I wanted her and I wanted her soon!

Janet once more took charge. “Welcome to my bedroom, whore – it’s a room you’re become very much acquainted with,” my sister informed our stepmother. “The filthy pack of playing cards are back where you’d hidden them,” said Janet.

“A complete set of copies are in safety deposit boxes in mine and Jason’s Mayfair bank. There’s also a set in my deposit box for father, just in case.” Mandy nodded, her pretty blonde hair bobbing. “I understand,” she said, calmly. “But it’s no use blackmailing me – I haven’t got a penny.”

Janet smirked. “We have no intention of blackmailing you, you silly slut,” she snapped. “We just want to make use of you for an hour or so once a day. Jase here will explain.”

I gulped, hoping I could contain the excitement which I knew my voice would reveal. “Each day, at a time to be specified when Janet and I have arranged our timetables, you will report to this room.

“Janet will then select a card from the red suits – they, as you probably remember, are the ones which depict you being rather adventurous with a big black stud. When she has selected a card, you and I will re-enact the picture on that particular card. Sorry, but I’m not nearly bursa ucuz eskort as big as your black boy!”

Mandy looked down at the carpet. “Then, when we’ve played around for a while, I will select a card from the black suits.” Mandy interrupted: “OK, Jason, I get the picture. Then Janet and I re-enact, as you so charmingly put it, the scene I did with the woman.”

I smiled: “Perfect, mother, you get the picture.” Mandy’s shoulders shook in despair. “OK,” she said, sullenly. “When do we start?”

I looked at my sister, who was staring at Mandy. “There’s an old saying,” said Janet. “You may be aware of it – there’s no time like the present!”


“Jase,” said my sister, “help the whore out of her undies.” I eagerly stepped forward, aware that my stiff prick was now leaving a dark stain of pre-cum on the top of my thong, but not really giving a damn.

I stepped behind Mandy and unhooked her bra, then slipped it from her arms. Looking at the nipples I could see they were erect. Taking the sides of her panties I pulled them down, then brought them to my face. “Christ, she’s sopping wet, sis,” I exclaimed, tossing them to Janet.

My sister checked the panties by rubbing her fingers across the gusset. “This is bringing her on, the filthy, delightful slut!” said Janet. “This is exciting you, isn’t it?” she demanded of our stepmother.

“Yes, Janet,” Mandy whispered. “Less of the ‘Janet’,” said my sister, “from now on it’s Mistrsss Jan and Master Jason, understood?” Mandy nodded, silently. “Right,” said my sister, by now thoroughly in charge of the session, “since this was my idea I’ll go first – as in lady’s first. Jase, pick a card!”

I looked at the sheaf of A4 paper, each showing two lurid pictures of Mandy engaged in lesbian activity with the stunningly-stack black woman. “I think the queen of clubs will do nicely, Jan,” I said, showing my sister the picture.

Janet looked with delight and gave me a swift peck on the cheek: “My dear brother, there are times when I could kiss you!” With a swift movement she pulled down her panties, then sat in an easy chair and, imitating the black woman’s pose in the picture, placed her thighs on the chair’s arms, thus displaying her charms. Her dark pubic hair, trimmed as it was, revealed thick piss flaps at her pussy.

“Get my camera and take some pictures of this – I’ll want a memento of the occasion,” said my sister. “On your knees, slut,” snapped sister-turned-dominatrix. “Smile for the camera,” I instructed leaning close to the scene as Mandy placed her face close to Jan’s powerfully smelling snatch.

“Now eat me, bitch,” snapped Jan, pulled Mandy’s blonde hair so her face came into contact with my sister’s moistness. I took a couple more pictures as the only sounds in the room were the lapping of stepmother’s tongue against stepdaughter’s pussy, accompanied by my sister’s groans as the effect of the oral obedience began to arouse her.

Soon Mandy had achieved the point of the erotic exercise, and Janet sobbed out “Oh, whatta tongue, whatta mouth!” and exploded her climax on the woman’s panting mouth.

Mandy pulled away, her snatch-streaked face sweating from the torrid task. Janet recovered quickly, then went to the bed where the incriminating pictures lay and selected one for me. “One good turn deserves another,” she smiled. “How about the ace of hearts, Jase?” she inquired, pointing to a picture.

Once more the central item of the picture was an easy chair, but in this one Mandy was kneeling on it, buttocks pointing back to the stiff-pricked black man who was pumping away at her pussy. “Looks fine to me,” I replied, trying to keep my voice from thumping the way my heart was.

I pointed out the scene to Mandy, who climbed up on the chair and presented her pussy. I quickly pulled my thong down to reveal my blood-engorged cock, the tip drooling pre-cum in anticipation of its task. As I was about to mount my stepmother, Janet, now holding her camera, called out: “No, no, no!”

I glanced at her in puzzlement. “First give her a little adoration, silly,” grinned Janet, “lick that lovely sex trench, she’s begging for it, aren’t you bursa anal yapan escort Mandy?” From our victim came a hushed “Yes, Mistress Jan”, so I knelt and ran my tongue over her pussy. It tasted so sweet! I laved there awhile, then on Janet’s sarcastic “OK, don’t make a meal of it, Jase” I stood and placed my cock’s helmet at our sex slave’s cunt.

As Janet clicked the shutter, I thrust into Mandy and felt a gloriously tight vagina clamp around my shaft, dragging me in. “Oooh, that’s such a tight cunt, Jan!” I announced, as my prick struck all the way home, my pubic bone bouncing against Mandy’s buttocks.

So tight, in fact, that I was soon feeling the surging that announced ejaculation. “Oh, hell, I’m coming, I’m coming” I informed no one in particular.

“Pull out, come on her back, I want a picture of that,” said Janet, excitedly, and as I jerked out from the tightness of my stepmother’s cunt my cock juddered, then spurted three creamy globs of spunk, one almost hitting her shoulder blades, the next the small of her back, the last splotching onto her buttocks.

Janet held out a couple of paper tissues and I cleaned my ejaculate from Mandy’s back. Then my stepmother stood and looked at her step-sister. “Mistress Jan,” she asked, querulously, “may I please have an orgasm?”

My sister looked at me, then played “tough cop”. “No, stuff it, you slut,” she snapped. Then I stepped in to play “good cop”. “Go on sis,” I encouraged, “she’s been a good sport!”

Janet relented. “OK, Jase, since you’re so fucking eager to please the tart, you help her out. Finger fuck or oral?” It was no contest, of course. “Oral, I think, sis,” I informed Janet. “OK, I’ll record it on film. Onto the chair, bitch.”

Mandy sat on the easy chair and adopted the pose that Janet had assumed for her first sex session with our stepmother. I knelt in front of the sweet-smelling snatch and pressed my tongue to her cunt, then piss flaps, then clitoris, before working my way around her pussy.

The 35-year-old had obviously been aroused – despite the enforced nature of the sex – and soon she was groaning and moaning before grunting to a noisy climax. I particularly liked the way she completed her orgasm by shouting “Oh, I’ve come, thank you Master Jason, thank-you.” An appreciative woman!

Finally Janet decided it was time to end the session. “You can wear your lingerie around the house today – tomorrow I may make you parade around nude,” sis told stepmother. “And always wear high heels – they give your calves a lovely tone.”

After Mandy had dressed and left, Janet walked over and gave me a big hug. “Yeees!” she exulted, “yeees!”


And so our fun continued. Each day, after we had decided what we wanted to do, we set a time for the hour’s pleasures with Mandy. When she arrived in my sister’s bedroom, either lingerie-clad or naked – but always in high heels – Janet would call out: “Anyone for cards?” And stepmother’s reply was always: “Yes please, Mistress Jan, yes please, Master Jason.”

It was a great time. Sex with her was always great for me, and Janet thoroughly enjoyed pleasuring herself on Mandy’s mouth. Sometimes at the end of the session, Janet refused to allow our slave permission to enjoy an orgasm.

Sometimes, simply to add to her humiliation, Janet allowed her to come, but insisted she finger herself before us. Pictures were taken of all the fun and games, of course. Janet took them to an adult photographer she knew in Soho and got two sets of glossy prints done, one for me, one for her. Great wanking material!

Then one day when there was an early adjournment in the big libel case he was conducting, father came home early and spotted his beloved Amanda walking around in a particularly revealing outfit.

She had been prancing around for Janet’s and my pleasure in a quarter-cup leather bra, leather garter belt, black seamed stockings and high heels. She was not, as you have probably guessed, wearing panties.

Father and Mandy disappeared into his study and were gone for some time. Janet and I made ourselves scarce. Then, the door opened and we heard father bellow out in the voice he used to quell laughter in his court when it was not at one of his judicial jokes.

“Janet, Jason – get into my study on the double.” There was a pause. “This instant!”

I emerged from my bedroom and looked at Janet, as she emerged from hers. She looked petrified. I suppose I did, too.

“Fuck,” hissed Janet. “It looks like Mandy’s laid her cards on the table!”

To be continued…

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