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Jennifer's New Family - The Second Year
Part 3
Maryjane and Melinda followed John to the basement, Maryjane with some trepidation. She had no idea what she would find down there. Although the basement was finished, there had never been a bedroom there. John flipped on the lights and led the women to the back, opening a door to a room that Jennifer's mother had only known as a dusty storeroom.
Maryjane blinked in astonishment as she looked in there now. Although sparsely furnished, there was no doubt that the room had almost magically been transformed into a bedroom. Windowless and drab, to be sure, but there was a double bed, small dresser and nightstand. What had been shelves for old paint cans was now something of a tiny closet. There was even clothing hung up in it. How the boys had managed such a transformation in so short a period of time was beyond Maryjane's imagination, but she had long ago learned not to underestimate their capabilities.
Far from easing her mind, however, the sudden appearance of a bedroom and John's eagerness to take in her sister and niece made Maryjane's heart catch in her throat. She couldn't escape the feeling that a trap was being laid, and the unsuspecting mother and daughter were walking right into it. Worse, she could think of no way to help her sister avoid the trap, not without revealing the dark secrets of her own life, and she simply couldn't bring herself to do that. Not yet.
"It's not a palace," said John amiably as he showed the room. "But when Jennifer and her mother moved in, she insisted on taking this room instead of kicking one of the boys out of their's." A total lie, Maryjane knew, but Melinda was smiling pleasantly, accepting the story.
"It'll do just fine," said Melinda, looking gratefully at John. "I'm sure Chelsea and Jennifer will get along just fine here. I can't thank you enough for all you're doing for us."
John's smile broadened. "I hope it's just the first of many things we'll be able to do for you." Maryjane swallowed, the double entendre not lost on her, but her sister interpreted nothing out of the ordinary. John, who had been carrying Chelsea's suitcase, set it down at the foot of the bed. "Now, let's get you set up in Jason's room."
Once more the women followed John, this time out of the room and back upstairs, then up to the second floor and to the other end of the house. "Are you sure Jason won't mind? I'm perfectly happy to take the couch myself. We could just hang a sheet up temporarily for a bit of privacy," Melinda said.
John chuckled and shook his head, opening the door to Jason's room and escorting the women inside, then setting down Melinda's suitcase. "He wouldn't hear of it," he said. "You just make yourself right at home here." He entered the closet unnoticed as Melinda was looking around the room, chatting with her sister, and silently slid back the hidden door to the bathroom. The door was designed to slide back into the wall to be almost completely hidden from view.
"You do have a private bathroom from here," John said, gesturing to the now open door in the closet. "I don't know who designed such a cock-eyed layout as this, but here's the entrance. Feel free to use it anytime." He exchanged a meaningful glance with his wife, who swallowed hard, but said nothing. Melinda smiled her thanks again.
Outside, Chelsea squirmed in the dirt, tears running down her soft pink cheeks. She reached down to her ankles to pull up her panties, but found them missing. Jennifer, breathing heavily from her climax, watched the poor girl bawling, suffering the worst humiliation of her young life, and licked her lips. Like the boys, she was looking at her cousin's exposed pussy, soft and swollen, glistening in the sunlight, until finally she yanked her skirt down. A moment later she straightened her bra and shirt.
Chelsea and Jennifer exchanged a look. The older girl thought there was something almost accusatory in her cousin's expression, as if it was somehow her fault. She turned her gaze to Tommy, but was too embarrassed to look at him for more than a moment before looking at the ground as she got to her knees. Tommy was holding out her panties for everyone to see. "M-may I please have my panties back?" Chelsea asked, completely oblivious to the picture she presented as she pleaded on her knees before the boys.
Tommy shook his head, grinning at his brothers. "Nah, I think I'm gonna keep them," he said, rubbing them against his cheek. "To remind me of you and what a hot little slut you are. Come here."
Chelsea blushed with shame and anger, but when she didn't move immediately Tony approached her from behind. Taking a fistful of her red hair, he yanked the girl to her feet as she howled in pain. With one powerful arm he held the girl up on her toes, laughing at her attempts to hit him or otherwise free herself. Meantime, Tommy lifted her skirt with one hand and rubbed her panties against her wet pussy with the other.
"Settle down you little cunt," Tony said, shaking her. "Can't you see he's just trying to be nice and clean you up?" All the boys shared a good laugh, but Jennifer looked away, ashamed and embarrassed herself.
Chelsea shrieked as she felt her pussy groped yet again, but all her twisting and squirming only caused her more pain as she pulled her hair. Finally Tommy pulled his hand away, holding up the girl's soaked panties, and then, with another harsh laugh, rubbed them firmly against Chelsea's mouth and nose, the moisture coating her lips, the aroma filling her nostrils. She squealed and tried to twist her head away but could not escape. "See what a slutty little cunt you are, bitch?" Tommy laughed.
Tony finally released the girl and she fell down to her knees again, crumpling up like paper as she quietly sobbed. Jennifer watched her, feeling very sorry for her young cousin, then looked up at Jason. He smiled back at her and nodded his head. "Go help her," he said quietly.
Jennifer slid off her makeshift seat and knelt beside Chelsea, her three step brothers around the girls and looking down at them. She put her arm around Chelsea and gave her a hug. Chelsea at first shrank away, but within moments leaned into Jennifer's hug with a desperate need to feel comforted. She wrapped her arms around the blonde's neck, and Jennifer held her tightly. "It's ok," she whispered soothingly. "It'll be ok."
It was long minutes before Chelsea finally calmed down a little. She wiped her moist cheeks with dirty palms, and Jennifer smiled wanly at her, using her own shirt to wipe away the streaks of dirt that now smeared her face. "Come on," she said. "Let's go back inside. You'll feel better."
"Wh-what about m-m-my underwear?" sniffled Chelsea, looking at Jennifer with wide green eyes. "Will they give them back?"
Jennifer sighed and shook her head sympathetically. "Let's worry about that later," she said. "You'll feel better if you have a bath or something." She didn't think that was particularly true, but she'd heard it on a TV show once and she couldn't think of anything else to say. But Chelsea nodded her head, sniffling again, and allowed Jennifer to help her up to her feet. She took in a deep breath, trying to stand more erect, biting her lip, and together the girls walked back to the house, both of them feeling the hot stares of the boys on their backs.
John stood close behind his wife, his arms around her, hands clasped over her naked, firm breasts, pinching and pulling at the hard red nipples and being rewarded with small gasps and hisses as she responded with various degrees of pain and pleasure to his touch. Maryjane's hands were between her spread legs, opening her pussy and rubbing firmly up and down the bright pink velvet flesh of her moist sex, fingertips rubbing her clit anxiously as she ground her ass against the front of her husband's jeans.
He looked over her shoulder, his eyes and hers both locked on the lucious sight before them. Melinda, just inches away on the other side of the one way mirror wall, was undressing, oblivious that she was being spied on by her sister and her brother-in-law. She unclasped her bra and let it fall to the floor, revealing remarkably firm breasts tipped with pink nipples. "She's got nice tits," John growled, pinching Maryjane's nipples with sudden force.
Maryjane whimpered, cringing in his grasp, but nodded her head. "Yes," she agreed quietly. "She always did. That's part of the reason she got pregnant so young, I think. She liked showing them off." She felt ashamed spying on her sister like this, even worse masturbating while doing so, but her husband demanded it.
John laughed softly. "A slut from way back huh? You coulda learned a thing or two from her. Look how long it took you to realize what a cunt you are."
Now Melinda was stepping out of her panties. She turned to face the mirror full-on, giving the couple a perfect view of her firm body. Slender and shapely, no signs other than faint stretch marks of the child she had born so many years ago. Moreover, she unknowingly revealed to them a smooth-shaved pussy, without a trace of stubble. She stood there as if looking back at the couple for several moments, but in reality she was looking back at her own reflection. Maryjane blushed at the prolonged sight of her younger sister, yet softly whimpered as her circling fingers continued stimulating her sex to greater heights.
Melinda tilted her head as she looked at her reflection, her expression one of deep thought, perhaps of memories long past. She turned her body to the left, and then to the right, as though examining herself. To Maryjane's shock, she lifted her hands to her breasts, hefting them gently. Then she sighed and stepped into the shower, under the warm running water. For several minutes Melinda let the water cascade over her, soaping herself down and rinsing off.
Then Maryjane gasped, and just after that John twisted her nipple violently, making her stifle a cry of pain. Her sister, facing directly toward them, running her hands down her naked body as the soap ran off her glowing skin, was no longer simply rinsing. Even as she watched herself in the mirror, Melinda's hands lingered between her thighs as she spread her legs. Fingers lightly traced over her sex, up and down the smooth mound slowly. Her expression changed to something like wistful longing, a sadness as she thought of things that might have been, rather than the rapture of sexual urges.
Maryjane glanced to her right quickly, where a video camera was set up, recording every moment of her sister's shower. But there was nothing she could do. Nothing except continue to stare ahead at her younger sister, so close to her, rubbing her own pussy as Melinda began to rub hers. John chuckled in his wife's ear as he watched. Maryjane flushed with shame, felt an embarrassment she'd almost forgotten could exist. Melinda's fingers opened her pussy wide, and then her other hand dived into the pink space, and two fingers disappeared deep inside her.
"Do it!" was all that John growled into his slut wife's ear. She was attuned to his mindset well enough after all this time to know what he meant, and, acting as her sister's mirror image, thrust her own two fingers deep inside her cunt with a hissing intake of breath. Melinda began to stroke herself with long, deep thrusts, her mouth forming a round O each time as her female lusts built. Maryjane, already stimulated far beyond what her sister was, squirmed in her husband's arms, feeling dirtier than she could have imagined. It was almost as though she were doing this with her sister, like a single act rather than two. A single tear of humiliation spilled from her left eye.
Melinda rolled her hips, thrusting them forward, almost as though offering herself to the couple she could not see. Maryjane repeated the move, commanded by her Master to mimic everything her unknowing sister did. They moved together, Maryjane quickly able to anticipate what her sister would do, so that she could move the same way at almost the same moment, while John mauled her full breasts with greater ferocity. In and out the women's fingers went, faster. Then they rubbed their clits in rapid circular motions.
"What a cunt she is!" John growled. "Wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes," replied Maryjane, knowing the response that was expected of her. "My sister is quite a cunt." Another tear trickled down her cheek as she felt her climax approaching inexorably, no matter how much she hated herself for feeling this way as she watched her sister this way.
Then Melinda leaned forward, putting a hand on the mirror to steady herself while the other hand remained between her spread legs, fingers pumping into her gyrating hips. Maryjane did the same, her hand exactly opposite her sister's, fingers plunging into her hot, wet pussy as John stepped back to adjust the video camera, widening the field of vision to capture both wanton sisters, near mirror-images of each other, bringing themselves to climax simultaneously.
Their hands worked furiously, both were moaning softly, hips thrust back and forth, or around in circles, under the force of the dual orgasms. Then, amazingly, they both straightened, appeared to look into each other's eyes, and leaned forward against the mirrored window directly opposite one another, large breasts pressed against the glass, their heads turned to the side so their cheeks looked like they were pressed together. They were each breathing heavily, recovering from their orgasms, lewd reflections of one another.
John grinned behind the camera. "I can't wait to get my hands on that cunt," he said, and Maryjane shuddered.
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