Stepsister, Stepsister - Ch 1 (Intro, no sex)
tho...@my-dejanews.com
When my Mother passed away 6 years ago after a prolonged struggle with
cancer, my Dad was crushed by the loss. I didn't think he would ever get
over it. Eventually however, he did, and he ended up marrying a wonderful
lady who lived in his condo in Miami Beach. My Dad was 62 at the time, and
Eloise was 60. I credit her with saving his life. In addition to a new
step-mother, I also gained two step-sisters and their families, who I met for
the first time at the wedding.
The two sisters could hardly be more different.
Kristi, the older stepsister, was married to a Madison Avenue marketing
genius and lived outside New York City in a beautiful mansion on the Hudson
River bluffs. Roger commuted to work by helicopter. Roger came from money
and made several million a year from his marketing business and investments.
Naturally, Kristi did not work. Kristi and Roger had two perfect children —
Roger, Jr, who was 8, and Shira, who was 3. The children attended the finest
private schools and were being raised by a nanny. Kristi was 32 and Roger was
44.
Helen, the younger stepsister, was married to a professor at the University
of Colorado, and lived in Boulder. Ron made decent money as a professor and
through part-time consulting, but Helen preferred to work. She was a
computer consultant. She worked from her home and limited her work to the
Boulder/Denver area. At 30, she was also the mother of two great kids —
Ryan, 6 and Bobby, 4. Ryan and Bobby were hellions, full of energy and
mischief, but they were great kids when they weren't destroying something.
Ryan was in first grade at a public school, and Bobby was in Pre-K at the
same school.
Kristi's real name was Christina Marie, but that was much too plain for her,
so she used Kristi. Kristi was a spectacular white-blond bombshell, very
petite (5'1", probably 90 pounds), with a tiny waist, slim hips, shoulder
length perfectly-coifed hair and dazzling blue eyes. What nature did not
provide, Roger's money did. Always small-breasted, Kristi had a $50,000 boob
job for a wedding present, and sported a perfectly proportioned set of 34C's.
On her small frame, these were big tits, but they looked very natural and
appealing. Partly because of her small figure, but mostly because she could
afford it, most of Kristi's clothes were custom-tailored. All of her
business and dressy outfits were from top New York designers. Kristi was a
flashy, sexy, beautiful woman. She was also very image-conscious and
aggressive, always dropping impressive names at any opportunity. When they
came to Florida for the wedding, Roger and Kristi stayed in their winter home
in "BOW-ka" (Boca Raton, an exclusive enclave 60 miles north of Miami). They
wouldn't think of staying anywhere else, except possibly Palm Beach.
Helen, on the other hand, was almost exactly the opposite. Her real name was
Helen and it suited her just fine. Helen was...well...plump. She wasn't
really fat, she was just large. She was about 5'6" and 160 pounds. She had
a big, round (but pretty) face, which always struggled to contain an
expansive smile. She wore her brownish-blond hair long, usually in a simple
ponytail. Helen had big, bulbous breasts, probably 40DD or larger, but they
were saggy. (Real 40DD tits are saggy, dear reader) She had a meaty frame,
big shoulders, wide hips, and a large ass. She did not really have an
overly-large stomach, especially considering her plump figure, and the
relatively small belly accentuated her big breasts and hips. Helen was a
real, down-home, Earth Momma, kind of person. Warm, genuine, unassuming.
Where Kristi was most comfortable in Versace gowns at the glitzy parties and
posh salons of New York, Helen was most comfortable in cutoffs and a teeshirt
from Wal-mart, hiking in the mountains with her two young sons.
My wife, Sherry, and I are also in the computer business. Sherry was a
systems analyst, specializing in enterprise networking solutions, and worked
for a Big Six accounting firm. I was a programmer/systems analyst by
training, employed by a major information systems consulting firm, primarily
providing online troubleshooting assistance for our clients all over the US.
I am 37 and Sherry is 36; we have no children. We met and married in San
Francisco, my favorite city in the whole world. Shortly after our marriage,
Sherry had an opportunity for a promotion in Miami. I arranged a transfer,
and we lived in that spectacular city for 4 years.
Then, my company closed its Miami operation, and we were forced to move to
Austin, Texas. I guess there is a lot to be said for Austin, but I can't
think of anything. After San Francisco and Miami, it just seemed like a hick
town to us.
Sherry and I had been thinking about doing private consulting work (we were
both tired of the transfers and the corporate rat-race), and once we saw
Austin, we knew the time had come. We figured we could work from anywhere, so
we began looking for a place to live first.
One day in mid-June , on a whim, I called Helen in Boulder to pick her brain
on the private computer consulting business. Her immediate suggestion was
the Denver/Golden/Boulder area. Big city, lots of high tech companies, great
lifestyle, very good air connections, centrally located.
After some discussion, Sherry and I decided to go take a look. We made
arrangements to fly to Denver the following Saturday and I made hotel
reservations in Boulder, a couple of miles from Ron and Helen's home.
As luck would have it, Sherry got stuck with an emergency consulting
engagement in Oklahoma City, and was not able to make the trip. We discussed
re- scheduling, but with our schedules, something was always popping up and
there was no guarantee that one of us wouldn't have to cancel another time.
In the end, I decided to go alone.
When Helen picked me up at the airport, she was dressed in typical Helen
fashion. Blue jeans, a white University of Colorado football jersey with
gold- trimmed black numerals, and hiking boots. Her hair was in her typical
ponytail, but was a little lighter than usual due to lots of time outdoors in
the summer sun. She was tanned and looked prettier than when I had seen her
last. She wore a huge smile and gave me a warm hug, nearly squashing me with
those mammoth tits.
I was surprised to learn that Ron and the boys had just left on a week-long
camping/archeological trip sponsored by the University. They were going to
dig for dinosaur fossils at Dinosaur National Monument in western Colorado!
Ron had been planning the trip for months, but hadn't told anyone, because he
knew the boys loved surprises. Ron pulled a surprise like this every summer.
With plenty of room now, Helen insisted that I cancel the reservations and
stay at their house.
"It will be much more convenient for me to show you around, and besides, I get
lonely when my men are gone," she explained.
We dropped my stuff off at their house and then Helen took me on a quick tour
of Boulder. Following the tour, she said, "We have plenty of time. I want to
show you something."
With that, she swung on to I-70 and headed west into the mountains. As we
climbed from the foothills surrounding Boulder into the mountains, the
landscape changed slowly. Helen excitedly pointed out bighorn sheep on the
rock cliffs just west of the Eisenhower tunnel. After about an hour, she
turned off at Frisco and headed south. Soon, we were rolling into
Breckenridge, a beautiful ski town located in a breathtaking valley at almost
10,000 feet elevation. We cruised into Breckenridge just as the sun was
setting over the ski mountains.
Helen drove to the Breckenridge Brewing Company, and we downed two large mugs
of the best micro-brew I had ever tasted, accompanied by Buffalo Wings, celery
and blue cheese. Unlike my wife, I am no health food nut, and neither is
Helen. We were stuffed by the time we left.
"Let's walk," Helen suggested.
So we walked around the corner and ambled down Main Street. With the sun
down, the temperature had dropped to the low 50's, so we locked arms and
snuggled together for warmth as we walked. The farther we went, the more I
noticed a strange sound. I couldn't be sure whether it was music from shops
we were passing, or something else. One more block, and I was sure it was
not stereo music. It was an orchestra tuning up.
"What's that?" I asked.
"That's what I wanted to show you," Helen replied. "That's the orchestra
tuning for ‘Bach, Beethoven and Breckenridge.' Each summer here, they have a
month- long classic music festival. I know you like good music and I thought
you'd enjoy it. And...I can't ever get Ron to make the drive, so this is
partly for me too."
We stopped at a liquor store and bought a Styrofoam cooler and a chilled
bottle of Chardonnay and found a place to sit on the grass. For two hours,
under clear skies filled with a billion stars, we listened to some of the
finest music I had ever heard. We sat close for warmth, chatted quietly
during the performance, and killed the bottle of wine. It was a beautiful
evening.
As we got back into Helen's car, she said, "Michael, that was a beautiful
concert. But now you are going to see why Ron won't bring me up here -- the
drive back!"
She was right, the drive was difficult. Two hours down the mountain. Even
though the road was all Interstate, it was a tiring drive. By the time we
arrived, it was midnight.
"Well, Michael, I would love to sit up and talk all night, but I guess you are
about ready for bed." Helen said. "Or can I tempt you with another glass of
wine for a nightcap?"
"Oh, sure. Wine sounds good. It will be good to unwind a little after that
drive!"
Helen pulled a gallon jug of cheap white wine out of the refrigerator and
poured two large goblets. "This is just table wine, but it's not that bad,"
she said. "And the company is good, so the wine doesn't matter."
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