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An erotic meeting.

They had not, however, informed Andrew of his upgrade or the company tailor, and Andrew had been so disoriented after his release from the modification tanks that there was no time to tell him before he demanded a ride back home.

Before he could finish his inept fumbling, the elevator door opened into his family's penthouse.

"In here Junior," his father called from the dining room.

Sighing, Andrew sulked through the main hall and around the corner to find his father, the renowned Jackson Howard, seated at the head of a fancy real wood dining table. Howard's trademark empty wide grin and lantern jaw beamed at his son over his clasped hands, framed by his own brick red hair. Sitting to Howard's right was Andrew's newest stepmother, Andromeda, wearing wore diamonds, and a sparking blue strapless, backless evening gown that complimented her permed curly blonde hair. She had been reclining lazily, sipping at a fizzy red drink until Andrew entered, when she looked at him with a smirk and an arched eyebrow over her glass. Andrew missed her expression entirely as his eyes briefly played over her 34HH breasts with the front of the dress pasted on them so tight he could see her nipples.

On Howard's left, was a twitchy Eurasian woman with a nervous grimace on her face and disheveled raven black hair. She ignored Andrew because she was too busy adjusting and readjusting her little black microdress over her toned, athletic body for some semblance for modesty. Her outsized 32GG were conspicuously out of place on her tight frame, as did her cheap, blocky cyberarm bearing faded Russian Federation government markings. The graceless mechanical left arm undid her every effort, the hem of the dress slipping out of the clunky fingers like fog through a gate.

"Do you feel any older after almost year away from home son? You know, turning 18 is the first real step into manhood," Howard said as he looked proudly at Andrew, noting his small but perfect musculature, another patented prototype courtesy of Jinteki.

"Those fucking Jinteki butchers sent me back to fucking adolescence for YOUR stupid intelligence experiment!" Andrew roared.

"Now, now son, I have been working hard with Jinteki to make you smarter and stronger than any little boy ever, but brain reshaping requires an open mind! A young mind! Just like the billions of children I reach every day with wholesome edutainment!"

"Besides," Howard added, "Look at the wonderful job they did with your mother and Alexis here." Andromeda raised her glass in salute.

"And who the fuck is she?!"

"Alexis is..."

"Bitch blew up my apartment once," Andromeda said, flatly, causing Alexis to glare at her silently.

Stunned, but still angry, Andrew ignored his stepmother and demanded, "You know what I don't even care! You owe me old man! I'm getting a car! I'm getting a gun! I'm getting my own place! I'm..."

"You know what, I'll do you one better, son, but first, your birthday cake!"

Jackson Howard leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers and smiling exactly as he did in every television spot he had ever been in.

Lunging into the lull in conversation, Andromeda whisked a magnificent pastel green Swedish Princess cake onto the table, topped with two thick white wax candles. Her disarming grin quieted her stepson as he stared at her huge tits hanging over the cake as she swifty lit the candles. Fluidly, Andromeda ripped the front of her gossamer dress off, exposing her engorged nipples and she folded her hands behind her back while leaning forward to place her breasts directly above the flame. Gasping lustfully at the heat, she bit her lip lightly and began to gently twist her torso to make her gargantuan tanned titties swing around and through the flames.

"This dance is for you son," Andromeda sighed, her deliberately awkward rhythm crashing her breasts together above the flames as often as jiggling them and swinging them away from the heat.

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