Jasmine Fantasies: Sister Threesome

Summary: Jasmine becomes the family pet to her two sisters.

This is a 2020 Valentine's Day story.

Thanks to: Tex Beethoven,

Jasmine Fantasies: Sister Threesome

For years, I have written erotica.

Illustrated. Group. Gay. Transgender. Fetish. Interracial. Lesbian. Incest.

For years, I have written my own fantasies as well as other people's fantasies.

For years, I have lived in a fantasy world.

Hiding behind a computer screen.

Wishing I could try even a hundredth of the kinky shit I have written.

I wanted to be gangbanged once... be spit-roasted, be the centerpiece of a train, get triple teamed, have a bukkake.

I wanted to peg someone.

I wanted to watch two guys suck cock. I wanted to watch a guy bottom for another guy.

I wanted to experience an encounter with a shemale or a transgendered woman.

I wanted to be seduced by a nylon-clad woman... preferably a younger woman... who uses her nylon-clad foot to rub me to orgasm.

I wanted to be seduced by a student. A cheerleader or a nerd who would turn me into her submissive teacher pet.

I wanted to suck a BBC. I wanted to be fucked by a BBC... or two BBCs... or three BBCs... or, well, you get it.

But most of all, I wanted to explore my lesbian side with my two older sisters (I even wrote a fictional story about it called Three Sisters years ago).

This is how that fantasy came true....

.....

My divorce was finalized on February 13^th.

Morgan, my younger sister, stopped by after work to check on me.

"So, the asshole is finally out of your life?" she asked.

"Legally, yes," I nodded. "Alas, with joint custody of the kids, not really."

"You know Hazel likely knows someone who can just take him out," she suggested, as she ran her hand through her red hair. We had the same mom, different dads. So she was eighteen years younger than I, and we looked absolutely nothing alike.

"He's still the father of my children," I pointed out, although that idea did cross my mind when I caught him banging the college babysitter in our garage after we returned home from our twentieth wedding anniversary supper. My elder sister Hazel was connected with lots of people as a corrections officer, and had made it clear she knew a couple people who could 'deal' with him. I suppose doing so would win them points with her for 'good behaviour'.

Now six months after my husband had celebrated our anniversary his way, I was a free woman... which should have excited me, based on the reality I could now explore my plethora of fantasies with a clear conscience... but I was just stressed with the reality I was 44 and again single. Plus, it was one thing to fantasize being a submissive dirty slut, it was a completely different thing to step up and do it. On top of that, I was a teacher in a small city where it was impossible to be completely anonymous.

"I guess," she shrugged.

"So, what's new with you?" I asked, trying to get the focus off of me.

"I've been planning a special night for tomorrow," she said, as she crossed her nylon-clad legs. If you've read my stories you know I have a massive nylon fetish, and until this day I had never once seen Morgan wear them. She always wore dresses, but always went bare-legged.

I was briefly distracted as I admired her long legs, and her red painted toenails that looked so appetizing encased in the sheer black hosiery.

"Hello, earth to Jasmine," Morgan said.

"What? Oh, sorry, I'm a little distracted," I said, assuming she would think it was because of my divorce being finalized and not the fact I wanted to drop to my knees and suck on her sheer nylon toes or spread my legs and let her rub her nylon-clad foot against my pantyhose crotch just like in many of those Bratty Babe videos I had become fascinated with lately (videos where one girl uses her nylon-clad foot to rub another girl to orgasm).

"I understand," she said sympathetically.

"So, what are you doing tomorrow?" I asked.

"A special anti-Valentine's Day night," she said.

"That sounds like what I need," I joked, the idea that tomorrow was Valentine's Day being pretty depressing.

"I'm happy you think that, because it's for you," Morgan said as I glanced down at her nylon feet as she wiggled her toes.

"W-w-what?" I stammered, looking back up.

"You need a night of debauchery," Morgan said.

"I don't think so," I shook my head.

"I know so," she said. "It was actually Hazel's idea."

"Fuck!" I sighed, instantly knowing that if Hazel expected me there, I would end up there. It was impossible to say no to her.

"Exactly," Morgan laughed, knowing what I was thinking. No one ever said no to Hazel.

"I really don't want to go out," I said.

"The pity party is over," Morgan said, as she uncrossed and recrossed her legs. It wasn't really Sharon Stone's epic leg uncrossing in Basic Instinct, but she had me watching with a salivating intrigue. I know its wrong to want to submit sexually to your sister, but she was my Kryptonite: young, a redhead, green eyes and now, for the first time ever, wearing nylons... nylons that, I'd just discovered as she crossed her legs, were actually thigh high stockings.

"I just don't want my pity party continuing at an outing," I said, so sick of people asking how I was doing, or giving me their condolences, or telling me I'm better off without him. Even as I stared at my sister's feet.

"You okay?" she asked, even as she wiggled her toes, oblivious to why I really wasn't okay. "You seem distracted."

"When did you start wearing nylons?" I asked, figuring that would explain at least a little of my distraction. "I thought you said you hate them."

"Oh, now that I work at a lawyer's office, pantyhose are part of the dress code," she said.

"I see," I said, trying not to admire her legs too obviously.

She raised her skirt and showed me her thigh high lace tops, just like I usually wore, although today I was in pantyhose, "But I still have my own sense of rebellion."

"You little slut," I joked.

"Feel them," she said, putting her foot on my lap.

"Um, okay," I said, acting reluctant, even though this was a fantasy come true. I placed my hands on her foot, and it was silky sleek like I imagined when I fantasized feeling a student's nylon-clad feet in many of my fantasies. "Wow, that's super soft."

"Oh, that feels nice," Morgan moaned ever so softly, not sexually, just relaxing. "Wearing heels all day is a killer."

"Does my baby sister want a foot massage?" I asked, in a voice like I was cooing to a baby.

She nodded, "That would be amazing."

"The things I do for my sister," I joked, even though she had no idea I was loving this.

"And they're Wolford stay-ups," Morgan revealed.

"Really?" I asked, having written about these nylons for years in my stories, but never actually having gotten or even touched a pair.

"Yeah, I ordered them online," she said. "From England."

"Nice," I said, as I massaged her foot through the sheer nylon.

"Did you know they call pantyhose tights in England?" she asked.

"Actually, I did," I nodded. "And I'm with you: I refuse to wear American pantyhose."

"Yeah, they are kind of itchy," she said. "While these exude sexuality."

"They really do showcase your legs," I agreed.

"Yeah, I get tons of looks every day now that I'm wearing them," she said.

"I imagine," I nodded.

"As often from women as from men," she added.

"It's 2020," I joked.

"Yeah," she laughed a little awkwardly.

"What?" I asked.

"Oh nothing," she said, as she offered me her other foot.

"You're really liking this, aren't you?" I asked.

"I do like being pandered to," she shrugged.

"It's your generation," I said, as I rubbed the sole of her foot.

"Oh, that feels really nice," she said.

"So, what exactly are you planning for tomorrow?" I asked.

"That's a secret."

"Please, you know how I hate surprises," I said, my most recent surprise being my husband cheating on me in our garage.

"You'll like this one," she said.

"I doubt it."

"We're going to make you forget you were ever married," she said, as I moved my hand up to her ankle.

"So, you have one of those neuralizers from Men in Black so I'll forget what he did?" I joked.

"Yeah, it's called Tequila," she responded.

"Ooooooh, tequila be bad," I said, each time I drank it I ended up doing something out of character. I took my first facial at a high school party after drinking tequila, as well as doing my first and only cum walk; I allowed my anal virginity to be taken at a college party after drinking tequila; I had my only threesome after too much tequila.

"You need a night of complete blacked out debauchery," she said.

"Blacked out, no. Black guy, yes," I smiled playfully.

"Oh, you want some big black cock pounding you?" she asked wickedly.

"A big cock after years of a small one would be a pleasant upgrade," I nodded.

"I figured you might have sworn off guys and now become a pussy muncher," Morgan surprised me with.

Truth was, although I wouldn't mind a nice big black cock, actually I would love a big black cock, I had no interest in a relationship with a guy. On the other hand, I was already contemplating ways to explore my long-neglected lesbian side. "I'm not sure what I want anymore," I replied, not denying that possibility either, as I was hoping to explore my same sex curiosity this spring break with some sort of trip... although I hadn't decided where exactly I was going.

"I think I may make you my foot masseuse from now on," she smiled, as she pulled her foot away.

"Only if you're wearing nylons," I responded and then realized I'd said too much.

She laughed, "Well, I wear them most days now."

"I was kidding," I defended.

"Sure, sure," she smiled as she got up from her chair.

I could feel my cheeks burning red, but I didn't respond. Instead, I changed the subject, "So, what time tomorrow did Hazel decree?"

"I'll text you," she said, as she pulled me off my chair and gave me a hug, her large breasts pressing against my much smaller ones. God, I wished mine were her size. The aforementioned babysitter had big tits too. Men always want what they don't have.

"Okay," I nodded, watching her legs as she walked away.

She turned around and I quickly looked away, as she said, "By the way. Haze has already chosen your outfit for tomorrow."

"Oh, God," I said. "What is it?"

"Something slutty," she answered, as she put her heels on.

"I wouldn't expect anything less of her," I shook my head.

"Expect the unexpected," Morgan winked, the one show we all watched together or if not together, with our phones on... Big Brother.

"Now I'm really worried," I joked.

"Don't be," she shrugged. "Tomorrow we'll just change your life forever."

"Oh, that's all?" I asked.

"In epic life-altering ways," she added, before she left my house.

Once she was gone, I went directly to my laptop and pulled up a new video a fan had purchased for me called 'Winter Jade Makes Her Professor Naomi Swann Cum in Pantyhose'. A hot looking pantyhose foot rub video I had been saving for a particularly horny time, which was suddenly now. Both women were in tan or mocha pantyhose, my favourites, and unlike every other Bratty Babes Owns You video, this time both girls come from pantyhose foot jobs. I had only watched the gif from the site, and now was ready to watch the twelve-minute video and imagine it was Kara, my hot blonde student who wore pantyhose two or three times a week.

I kept my pantyhose on, grabbed my vibrator and used it on the outside of my pussy and slowly rubbed it like a foot would... trying to replicate as best I could what I was watching.

My fantasy started with Kara, but as I watched and listened, it was Morgan's foot that was rubbing up and down on my fevered crotch area. I came six minutes into the video, before the Professor came, and way before she returned the favour.

As I lay there in soiled panties and pantyhose, I wondered what the girls could possibly have in store for me.

......

My sister's plan ended up being a blessing in disguise, as I now had an answer to the constant pitying question I got a dozen times: 'What are you doing for Valentine's Day?' (always asked in a cautious, unintentionally sad way).

I responded jovially that my sisters an I were going out for an anti-Valentine's Day celebration.

And although I didn't realize it, by the time I got home, I was looking forward to this outing. My daughter, Emma, was also happy I was going out. "Go find some stud and get yourself laid, Mom."

"Emma!"

"What? You deserve a good pounding," she added, smiling wickedly.

"This is not a conversation I want to have with my daughter," I objected, although she was completely right.

"I didn't really want the sex talk when I was sixteen either, but you gave it to me anyways."

"Every parent does that," I pointed out.

"Not every parent shows videos of women pushing their children out."

"I just wanted it to be visually effective," I shrugged.

"Oh, it was visual, all right," she said. "Plus, I'm eighteen now. So I like to think we can chat as two adults."

"We can," I nodded, actually appreciating her thinking that way. Since she had learned of the divorce we had become closer. She had been a Daddy's girl until he cheated, and somehow his unfaithfulness had created a connection between us.

"So, spit or swallow?" she asked with a wicked grin.

"Neither, you brat," I said. "I'm a good girl."

"Well, tonight be a bad girl," she said, before heading to her room.

Truth was, I loved swallowing, but I wasn't quite ready to tell her that. I loved sucking cock. I also liked facials. Truth was, I was a natural submissive, and if something gave my lover pleasure, I was willing to do it. Gus loved blow jobs, loved girls who swallowed, and loved girls who were submissive sluts in the bedroom. Yet, I sighed, even that wasn't enough for my ex.

Morgan had texted she would be over at five, and we were meeting Haze at six. She still wouldn't say where we were going or what we were doing.

She arrived wearing a gold cocktail dress, with dark mocha nylons (my all-time favourite colour). I asked, "Are we going to the Opera?"

"Someplace classy," she said, as she sat down on the couch and said, "but before we get you all dolled up, I need another foot massage."

"I was kidding," I protested, even as she patted a spot beside her, and I stared at her long, luscious legs.

"I'm not," she said. "Now hurry up, we don't have a lot of time."

I sighed dramatically, even though it was all for show, as I sat beside her and she lifted up her legs and said, "You know I was kidding yesterday, don't you?"

"You said if I was wearing nylons," she said, as she placed her feet in my lap. "And I'm wearing nylons."

"I was kidding," I repeated, even as I began massaging her foot.

"Were you?" she questioned, with a tone implying she somehow knew something I didn't... or that I did, but she wasn't supposed to.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"Oh nothing," she shrugged, "its's just you really seemed to like doing it yesterday."

"I don't mind it," I admitted, giving just the slightest hint of my submissive persona... entertaining just the smallest glimmer of hope that my incestuous fantasy could come true.

"And you're really good at it," she said, as I massaged each toe individually, wondering what it would be like to suck each of her toes in my mouth like I had written about in many of my stories.

"Thanks, I guess," I said.

"No seriously," she said. "It makes me feel so good."

"Well, you do moan a bit," I teased.

"Well, truth be told," she began, and then stopped.

"What?" I asked, curious where she was going with this.

"Nothing," she said, as I moved my hand to her sole.

"You can't start speaking and then say it's nothing, when it's obviously something," I said, always hating when people did that.

"Well," she paused.

"What?" I said frustrated. "Just say it."

"Well, it's a little erotic."

"Oh," I said, hoping it was very erotic... my wet panties were evidence.

"I mean, if you weren't my sister," she added.

"Of course," I nodded, hiding that I would literally do anything she ordered me to do right now. "And I'm a girl," I added.

"That wouldn't stop me," she said.

"Really?" I said, letting the 'L' sound roll off my tongue for a while and switching to her other foot.

"You know I'm bi, of course," she said, as if it were something I should have known.

"I did not," I replied, even though the revelation had my pussy tingling.

"To be blunt, I prefer pussy to cock," she admitted.

Trying to give a hint of my own confused sexuality, I added, "After all this personal drama, I think I might too, given the opportunity."

"Oh, I bet you'd love pussy," she said. "The taste is so much better than dick."

"Perhaps. But I've always liked cum," I admitted, figuring why not, since we were being so frank.

"Then you'd love pussy cum," Morgan said. "It's completely intoxicating."

"So, do you eat a lot of pussy?" I asked, imagining her and me in a 69.

"A lot? Lately, yes," she nodded. "It's my new addiction."

"Better than smoking," I joked.

"Healthier too," she smiled.

"So we're saying fish should be part of every girl's diet," I joked.

"Agreed," she nodded. "Although it tastes a lot better than fish."

"I can imagine," I said, actually imagining tasting my half-sister right here, right now.

"Mmmmm," she moaned, as I massaged her foot. "I bet you'd be a great pussy licker."

"Why is that?" I asked, even though I knew deep down I would be amazing at it; I was a people pleaser, a cock pleaser, and I'm confident I would be a great pussy pleaser.

"You just love making people happy," she said.

"Is that how people see me?" I asked, knowing it was true, but a little depressed to hear everyone saw me that way.

"You're seen, at least by everyone I know, as an amazing woman, a great mother, and the glue that keeps our family together," Morgan listed, making me feel so good about myself.

"Thanks," I said.

"But, you also have a secret side that others don't see," she said.

My eyes went wide. What did she mean by that? "W-w-what do you mean?" I stammered, which made me sound even more guilty.

"We all do," she said. "For example, you love sucking dick and the taste of cum. Do you think your senior students see you that way?"

"I doubt it," I laughed, as my teacher persona was one of firmness and following the rules.

"Even though some of them would love to fuck you," she said.

"I doubt it," I laughed.

"Or to eat that pussy of yours," she continued.

"God, no," I gasped, even though the image of my student Kara between my legs popped into my head.

"Or you eating theirs," she added.

Again, Kara with her legs spread at her desk popped into my head. "You're so bad."

"You've never fantasized about a student?" she asked, as I moved my hand up to her calf, feeling a bit more brazen.

"I plead the Fifth."

"I bet you've masturbated at work thinking of some teen dick or tween cunt," she continued.

"That's so wrong of you to say," I said, even as I felt my cheeks burn red with unannounced guilt.

"But, interesting you didn't say you haven't," she acknowledged.

"We all have our fantasies," I said.

"And some of us live them out," she added, glancing at her phone. "Oh, shit, we need to get you ready."

"Oh, we lost track of time," I said.

"Being my foot maid got you all distracted," she teased, as she moved her feet away.

"Yes, Mistress," I joked, giving another hint at my secret submissive side and my secret sibling fantasy.

"You need to know I am actually a Mistress to a couple older women," she said, standing up. "So be careful of your word choices."