I met Amy Parker during college. She was studying to be an engineer while I was enrolled in the school's business program. I knew I wanted her from moment I first laid eyes on her during one of the core requirement courses that we both had to complete for our majors. Not only was she beautiful, but she was brilliant. I had always had a thing for smart women. I was relentless in my pursuit, refusing to be dissuaded by the initially cold reception. Eventually she warmed to me and we started dating. When I asked her, much later, what had changed her mind, she had responded simply, "I realized that you weren't a threat." She refused to tell me what it was that I didn't threaten. That'll teach me not to question my good fortune.

I should probably describe Amy. She was a petite woman, barely topping five feet in height even in heels. She had thick, shoulder length raven hair which she always wore in one of two ways: pulled back into a severe bun or bound tightly in a single thick pony tail. Her brown eyes were exceptionally large and liquid, tilting ever-so-slightly downwards toward her pertly upturned nose. Her lips were full and sensuous and her breasts, while just barely a c-cup, appeared huge on her diminutive frame. Her most outstanding physical feature was her round, firm ass, a perfect bubble above legs kept shapely and strong by daily jogging sessions around the campus.

From the moment we started dating, I couldn't help but notice that she carefully avoided any mention of her family or her past. Her dorm room and, later, her apartment were heavily decorated with photographs of her and her college friends, including, I am happy to say, myself, but there was not a single one that pre-dated college. I have to admit that it became something of a game to me. I would start to broach the subject of parents or hometowns or siblings and then laugh to myself as she scrambled frantically to change the subject.

We were surprisingly compatible. I had always been rather easy going so I was able to tolerate her need to control every aspect of her environment. Part of me, a shamefully large part, even enjoyed having nearly every minute of my life carefully structured and meticulously planned out in advance.

During our senior year, I proposed to Amy and she accepted. We were married in a quiet civil ceremony attended only by a handful of close friends and my parents. Upon graduation, it was no surprise to anyone that she received the more lucrative job offer. We immediately moved to the suburbs of the large mid-western city which was home to the company that had made that offer to begin our life together. Once there, I plastered the local companies with resumes and eventually secured a middle management position.

It was a pleasant existence, the only conflict being that I wanted to have children while Amy wasn't interested in anything that could derail her career. Then one Friday night, about a year after our move, we were in the middle of our traditional weekly love making - I had never actually dared to look, but I imagine that this activity was carefully scrawled each week into her day planner: Friday, 9 p.m-10 p.m., make love to Tom - when everything changed. We had barely gotten started and she was just beginning to assume her usual position on top of me when the phone next to the bed began to ring. Amy's lips tightened slightly at this unscheduled interruption, but she moved to answer it. She said hello, listened for a moment and then, her voice rising dramatically in pitch and volume, said, "Alicia?! How did you find me?" I was then treated to the sight of her firm, naked wiggling backside as she retreated to the bathroom, closing the door tightly behind her.

When she emerged twenty minutes later, she looked more troubled, more vulnerable than I had ever seen her. She laid on the bed next to me and clutched me tightly to her. "That was my sister, Alicia.", she whispered.

Seizing the opportunity, I said, with feigned casual interest, "Oh? I didn't know you had a sister."

She was silent for a moment and then, with a sigh, began to elaborate, "She's not just my sister, she's my twin. Growing up, she was the outgoing, vivacious one and I was the bookworm that lived in her shadow. Alicia was the prom queen and the homecoming queen and the head cheerleader. Our parents doted on her and celebrated each of her awards while completely ignoring my academic achievements." Amy paused for a moment, clearly reluctant to continue, "Alicia got everything she wanted and took everything I wanted. Any time I showed interest in a boy, she would swoop in and take him away. We looked the same, but no one could resist her personality. When we graduated, she immediately married our high school quarterback and everyone celebrated what was sure to be a perfect union. Our parents never even asked me about my college plans, other than pointing out that they didn't have the money to pay for it so I had better get a scholarship. So, when I did get a scholarship and left for college, I decided to make a clean break. I promised that I would never be one of the Parker twins again, but would just be Amy. I didn't even go back when our parents died in a car accident my freshman year."

I was startled, and more than a little disturbed, by these revelations, but I continued to listen in silence. Amy's voice took on a slightly vindictive quality. "Things apparently didn't go so well for Alicia after I left. Her husband washed out of college football and didn't do very well academically. He ended up selling insurance for one the hometown agencies. She thought they were doing well; they had a nice house and a new car and she was able to play little miss homemaker. Turns out that he was embezzling from his company and didn't do that very well either. When he realized that his boss was on to him, he emptied the bank accounts and left for parts unknown. The court decided that Alicia's tidy little house was a product of the crime and seized it for restitution. So now she's homeless, destitute and has no job prospects whatsoever. That call we just got was her begging me to take her in. She is still my sister and the only family I have, so I said yes."

Amy went silent and showed no further interest in discussing the matter. I noticed that she hadn't consulted with me before making the decision and didn't even ask how I felt about the situation. I tried to resume our lovemaking, but she was unreceptive.

Two days later we drove to the bus station to pick up Alicia. There was no chance of mistaking her among the crowd. She looked exactly like Amy, the only difference being that she wore her hair loose and, even after more than a day on the bus, it hung in soft waves which fell to the middle of her back. She immediately ran to Amy and gave her an exuberant hug which Amy returned stiffly. "Thank you! Thank you for doing this, sis.", Alicia bubbled. Amy introduced me and I held out my hand in greeting, but Alicia ignored it and enfolded me in a tight embrace as well. "Nice to meet you, Tom! I didn't even know Amy was married.", she gushed. Behind her back, I saw Amy's eyes tighten in disapproval.

The next few months were, in a word, tense. Amy had interceded with her employer on Alicia's behalf and made arrangements for Alicia to be employed part time in the company mail room. Alicia apparently did the job well enough, but quickly gained a reputation as an outrageous flirt. Much to Amy's annoyance, male employees of the company were soon seeking any excuse to run a quick errand to Alicia's department. At home, Alicia did help with the housework, but it soon became obvious that she liked a bit of clutter. Amy was quietly furious at the disruption to her orderly environment. Probably worst of all from Amy's perspective Alicia also shamelessly flirted with me. As she walked about the house, she would seize on any excuse to brush up against me or run a hand caressingly across my back or down my arm. In addition, I would often return home from work to find her sunning herself in the back yard wearing nothing but the wisp of a thong bikini and in the evenings she would lounge about the house wearing the skimpiest of nightwear.

Although my fear of Amy's wrath far outweighed any lust that Alicia was inspiring, I could tell that Amy was feeling threatened. For one thing, she expanded our weekly scheduled sex to include Monday nights as well as Fridays. During these sessions, Amy was far more vocal than she ever had been before, with the obvious intent of making certain that her sister knew what we doing. She also began showering me with public displays of affection, often holding my hand in the evenings and giving me spontaneous little hugs and kisses. I quietly enjoyed being marked as territory.

Then Amy's company sent her across the country for a week to help a subsidiary work out some difficulties that they were having with a new product line. During the week, Alicia did her best to seduce me, but I remained loyal to Amy. On the Friday that Amy was due to return I got tangled up in a little paperwork snarl at my job and didn't make it home until fairly late. Upon my return, I found the house silent and seemingly empty. There were no new voice mail messages so I went to the computer to check my email. My inbox was empty other than the usual spam but I noticed that I had two new messages in the deleted folder. Curious, I checked them and discovered that both messages were from Amy. The first told me that there had been a mix up with her flight and she would not be home until she could make other arrangements. The second reported that she had booked a flight for the following day and gave me her new flight number and time of arrival.

Perturbed, I called Amy on her cell phone and reported what I had found. "That bitch!", Amy shouted. "I know exactly what she's up to. She's back in our bed right now, pretending to be me. That little whore is always trying to take what's mine. I bet she was the one that canceled my reservations on tonight's flight and she might have even screwed with your report before you printed it out this morning to make sure that you would be working late." Amy was silent for so long that I was beginning to think that the connection had been broken, but then she continued in a vindictive whisper, "I want you to play along, Tom, but be rough. Very rough. Oh, and take the wireless webcam back with you, I want to watch." She then hung up.

Snickering slightly to myself, I made the necessary adjustments to the computer to allow Amy to have remote access from her laptop. Palming the wireless camera, I then went back to the bedroom. Sure enough, the bed was occupied. Alicia had even cut her hair so it matched Amy's in length and had pulled it back into a pony tail. She was asleep.

I set the camera on the dresser, adjusting it so that it would be able to capture the entire bed. Amy had control of the zoom if she wanted it. I stripped down and crawled into the bed next to Alicia, finding her naked under the covers. I woke her with a kiss. "Sorry that I'm so late, dear," I said, "but I had some problems at work. Still feel like fooling around a little?" She responded by kissing me passionately and pressing her body to mine. It suddenly occurred to me that she wouldn't be able to speak without giving her intended ruse away. I bit back the laugh that tried to rise from throat. This was going to be fun.

As we kissed, I ran a hand down to her pussy, finding that it was smoothly shaved as opposed to the narrow "landing strip" that Amy maintained. "Mmmm, you shaved for me.", I whispered.

"Mmmhmmm.", she moaned out while pressing her lips to mine.

As I caressed her clit with my thumb, I ran my fingers down over her labia, finding that they were already wet and oily with her juices. The thought of stealing her sister's husband obviously turned her on immensely.

For the next few minutes, I massaged her clit with the palm of my hand while plunging first one then two fingers rapidly and deeply inside her. She moaned and I felt her hand trace up my leg to my cock, pausing in obvious surprise for a moment - I'm by no means porn star material, but I do have a good solid eight inches - before beginning to eagerly stroke her hand up and down my length.

"I'm so hot for you, Amy.", I whispered, "Are you ready for me?"

"Mmmmhmmm.", she moaned again.

"Don't worry, baby, I know what you like, just leave the work to me.", I said as I pulled myself to my knees while gently rolling her onto her stomach. I positioned myself behind her and pulled her hips up into the doggy position, making certain to angle our bodies to provide a good view for the camera. I almost laughed; Amy would never allow herself to be put in a position that she considered so submissive.

Without preamble, I thrust my full length into her wet cunt in a single fluid motion, finding that her pussy was every bit as tight as Amy's. Alicia's head flew back and she cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure as her pussy struggled to stretch enough to accommodate my rude and sudden intrusion. Recalling Amy's instructions, I didn't give her time to adjust to my presence but began to thrust in and out of her savagely, my pelvis impacting loudly with her upturned buttocks each time I bottomed out inside her.

Surprisingly, within minutes her hips started to roll and she began to push herself back to meet my every thrust. She dropped her chest to the bed and moaned continuously into the pillow. She actually liked to be taken in this manner! I needed to up the ante. I raised my right hand above my head and brought the palm down on her defenseless buttock with a resounding thwack. She twisted her head around and looked at me with wide, incredulous eyes.

"Yes, sweetheart, I know what you want, what you need!", I cried out as I brought my palm swiftly and sharply down on her helpless flesh again and again while continuing to violently thrust my cock in and out of her dripping snatch. Soon the formerly soft white skin of her ass was glowing hot and red. She clutched the pillow to her face with a white knuckled grip, muffling the whimpering cries that each of my blows elicited.

As I brought my hand down yet again on her hot, red ass, she suddenly reared upwards with a loud moan, the muscles in her back and buttocks visibly clenching and shaking, her vaginal walls convulsing wantonly around my turgid length. My mouth fell open in astonishment. As her orgasm went on seemingly interminably, the sensations grew too intense. I had to bury myself fully inside her and come to a stop to keep my imminent climax at bay. If I brought the night to an end at this point, Amy would be quite vexed.

When she finally collapsed, sweating and panting, back down to the surface of the bed, I turned towards the camera, shrugged my shoulders and raised my hands in a helpless gesture. What else could I do to bring this to an end that Amy would find satisfactory?