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This is the third instalment of the saga ‘A Sister’s Tail’ which is part of my Family Sex Saga series. This story will hopefully stand up well enough on its own, but it is put in a better perspective if you read the previous instalments of ‘A Sister’s Tail’ and the prequel to that story: ‘Making Mother’.
Anyway the final chapter unfolds!
I was now in my last year at the Graham Academy for Young Women. I had been playing panty-pops with Grandpa Lucien for three years and with my brother Alex for over a year and charging them a considerable sum of money for the privilege. I had made myself a pretty good sum of money, which I had squirreled away in a private bank account.
Whenever I came home from the Graham Academy I would service one or both of them. It worked out great for all of us; they got sex and I got sex and money. My mother Dee-Dee knew about what I was doing with grandpa Lucien but she knew nothing about what I was doing with my brother.
She had found out about my brother Alex’s predilection for nylons and panties; it came as no surprise to her because all of the Joiner men seemed to have inherited a fetish for lingerie, stockings and panties. She, like myself, had discovered semen stains in her hosiery and panties and knew that the culprit was Alex. She told me that she had confronted him about it but she refused to go into the details. (Note from author: read my story ‘Making Mother’ to read about Alex’s encounter with his mother when she discovers he has been masturbating with her underwear)
I figured that something pretty dramatic had occurred but Alex also refused to talk to me about it. Dee-Dee was pretty honest with me when it came to sex, but she too would not elaborate on what had happened when she confronted my brother with his nylon fetish.
Grandpa was getting more and more insistent now; he asked me about what I was getting up to with other boys and was adamant that I keep my virginity. Mother too was most assertive that I keep my virginity, but she saw it as a commodity that I should not give away for free. I was honest with her up to a point; I had no intention of letting her know about panty-popping Alex, I figured that even she would not condone me having sex with my brother, even though intercourse was not involved.
I’d had a few boyfriends on and off and I handled them quiet easily. I allowed them the occasional grope and feel; I even jacked a couple of them off but I didn’t get the sense of power and satisfaction I got from making my grandpa and brother pay for my services. Finally I gave up on boyfriends; I knew there would come a time later when I would need to acquire a husband, but for now that could wait.
Late one Sunday afternoon I was over at the Big House and grandpa Lucien was lying on top of me thrusting away. His cock was wedged in the groove of my quim, the flimsy fabric of my pantyhose the only barrier between my grandpa’s cock and my virginal pussy. Lucien was kissing me passionately, grunting and groaning as he rutted me.
My blonde hair was longer now and my taste in clothes more sophisticated. I was wearing a charcoal-grey suit with a tight pencil skirt, a mauve satin blouse, black high-heeled pumps, sheer-to-the-waist tan pantyhose and white satin bra and panty set. I wore lashings of makeup and perfume and some expensive jewellery that grandpa had bought me. My skirt was hiked up and my panties pulled down, they dangled from my ankle like a white satin flag. Grandpa was naked on top of me, his penis pressed against my cunt, dry humping me. He was not far from climax and neither was I.
“Geez Mellie I’m going to come!” he moaned and pushed himself harder into me.
The fabric of my hose only just prevented his penis from sliding inside me and I put my hand down between our bodies and adjusted his cock so that the head was rubbing my clitty.
“God Mellie I want to fuck you! I want to put my cock inside you and come deep in your tight cunt!” he wailed as I felt the familiar feeling of my labia being flooded with hot come.
I came too and used my legs to hold grandpa tight against my body until my orgasm subsided.
When we had both recovered from our orgasms grandpa got off me and started to pick up his clothing which he had strewn around the room in his rush to sate himself on me. I used a handkerchief to wipe away most of his spend, pulled up my panties and straightened my skirt. I sat down and took a compact and lipstick from my purse and began to fix my makeup.
Grandpa, dressed just in his shorts, poured us both bourbon and continued dressing. Although I was not yet twenty-one both mom and dad allowed me to drink wine and beer at home and grandpa let me sip his good bourbon in his den. He was dry-humping his granddaughter on a regular basis so I guess he figured giving me her little hard liquor now and then was no great crime.
“You know Mellie I really love these panty-pops and I’m more than happy to pay for the privilege but I’d really like to fuck you,” he said as he stepped canlı bahis into his pants.
This lament had been going on for a while now. I had laid down the ground rules long ago; he could dry-hump me through my pantyhose or panties; I would masturbate him, I even allowed him to kiss me. But he could not fuck me and I would not suck his dick. I was charging him one hundred and fifty dollars a throw and of course he also bought me lingerie, jewellery and steady supply of nylons. He had even bought me a suspender belt and expensive stockings, which I was more than happy to model for him. I wore them for him once while I let him panty-pop me. I kept my panties on but he kept trying to poke his cock through the leg-hole of my panties and put his cock on my bare pussy and that was just too risky. After that I insisted on wearing the stockings over pantyhose if he wanted me to wear them.
But grandpa kept pestering me about taking my cherry. He said he would be gentle and that he would make a woman out of me, but I kept fobbing him off. His offers kept getting higher and currently stood at one thousand dollars but I knew that if I hung on long enough I could get a lot more. I had begun taking birth control because I knew that one day he would make an offer that I would eventually accept.
I never even considered letting Alex take my cherry; he would never have enough money while he was still in school. To be honest, I enjoyed the sex a lot more with Alex but it was nothing compared with the power trip of having one of the most wealthy and powerful men in the state begging you for sex; even if it was just a panty-pop.
“Lets just stick with panty-pops for now grandpa; one day when I’m ready I’m sure you will take my cherry,” I teased him by lifting my skirt and smoothing out my nylons, even though they didn’t need it.
“Goddamn it Mellie! You are one bitch of a cock-teaser; just like your mother!” he snarled as he reached for wallet to get the cash.
I walked over and took the money from his hand and kissed him; he reached for me, his hands going straight to my ass, but I easily evaded his grasp.
“I’ve just fixed my makeup and straightened myself up grandpa; I’m meeting Dee-Dee for dinner and I don’t want to change,” I said.
“I have some clean nylons and panties in my purse so I can go straight from here.”
I could see an erection starting to grow in grandpa’s trousers and as much as I could always use an extra hundred and fifty bucks I couldn’t be late for my mother.
“Well can I at least keep your nylons and panties then?” he entreated.
I raised my eyebrows and looked at his wallet.
“Jesus Mellie I take it back. You are worse than your mother!” he grumbled, but he took a twenty out his wallet and handed it to me.
I kicked off my heels and pulled down my pantyhose and panties, they bunched up as I rolled them down my legs. I pulled them off and handed them to Lucien; they smelled of perfume, semen and pussy juice. I knew that he would jack off in them over the weeks I was away at school. I had a neat little sideline selling my used panties and hose to my grandpa and my brother which supplemented the income I made from panty-popping them. Plus both of them were buying me panties and nylons to replace the ones they humped me in.
“Gotta go grandpa,” I said as I spun on my heels and walked out of his den.
I stuffed the money into my purse and walked down the hallway; my heels clacking on the marble floor. When we first started playing panty-pops I was just a young girl and Grandpa Lucien used to sit me in his lap and rub his cock on my panty-clad behind until he came. As I got older and wiser I started to charge him for the service. When mother sent me to the Graham Academy I graduated from bobby-sox to pantyhose and grandpa really got hot for me. That’s when I changed the rules and let him dry-hump me; with an appropriate price hike for the service of course. Then he wanted me dress up as a schoolgirl while he panty-popped me (another fifty-dollar surcharge of course) but as I got older and filled out grandpa wanted me to dress more sophisticated.
He took me to his office and showed me how his secretaries and personal assistants dressed. Suits comprising matching skirts and blazers, tight skirts and fitted jackets, blouses of silk, satin and rayon, high-heels and expensive hosiery; that was what he wanted. I figured he wanted the fantasy of having sex with the secretaries, but instead of humping a thirty-something, he would be humping an eighteen-year-old schoolgirl. Of course I agreed to his whim so long as he bought the outfits.
I quite enjoyed dressing like a woman rather than a schoolgirl and even Dee-Dee complimented me on my new tastes. Of course she would though; because that’s how she dressed.
I stopped in at the bedroom that I used whenever I stayed over at The Big House and went into the ensuite bathroom to wash my pussy with a warm soapy washcloth. I freshened myself with a feminie hygiene product, fixed my makeup once again, bahis siteleri and applied more perfume. I slid into a clean pair of panties and pantyhose and stepped into a cream coloured satin half-slip and straightened my skirt over it. A little more modesty was called for where I was going. I had called a cab and it was waiting for me outside when I stepped out into the cool evening air. Grandma Jessica would be home soon so it was just as well that I was leaving. She seemed more and more suspicious of me spending time alone with Grandpa.
I slid into the front seat and told the taxi driver where I was going; an expensive restaurant downtown. Dee-Dee was meeting me there at seven. As the driver drove off I saw him checking me out, surreptitiously glancing at my body. My pencil skirt was too tight to sit comfortably in the cab and I had hiked it up slightly and the cabbie had a generous view of my legs.
“How old do you think I am?” I asked him.
The cabbie seemed startled at my question but he cleared his throat and answered.
“Early twenties; I have a daughter your age,” he replied.
“She look as good as me?” I asked, turning to face him.
The cabbie took the opportunity to look me over; his eyes lingering on my tits and my legs.
“Honestly no; but she doesn’t have your money so she can’t dress like that.”
“Like what?” I asked, flicking the tip of my tongue seductively across my lips.
“You know; sophisticated, cultured…er sexy,” his face flushed.
“I’m only eighteen,” I smiled at him and batted my heavily mascared eyelashes at him.
“Fuck……er, I mean, Geez……………really?” he stammered.
“Yes mister and you could be locked up for thinking what you’re thinking,” I grinned at him mischievously.
“What do you mean!” he replied indignantly.
“You want to touch me.”
“Here,” I opened my blouse slightly to reveal the rise of my breasts.
“Here,” I raised my skirt a little higher and exposed my thighs.
“And especially here,” I opened my legs so he could see the V of my red satin panties.
“Geez girly! Does your mother know you behave like that?” he gasped.
“You betcha!” I gave him a big grin.
“Now; I can tell by the lump in your pants that you like what you see; and well I’m an entrepreneur. It’s about a half-hour to downtown and with tolls and a tip I figure I’m going to owe you about fifty bucks cab fare, right?”
“Yeah; that’s about right,” the cabbie replied a little mused.
“Or you can pull into that parkway up there for five minutes and you can feel me up while you jack off, and I get the ride for free,” I said matter-of-factly.
“Jesus girly are you for real? You’re only eighteen for fuck sake!” he said incredulously.
“Ok; your loss,” I began to pull down my skirt.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait!” he stammered.
“What do you mean by feel you up?”
“You can touch my tits and fool around under my skirt but I’m not taking my clothes off and I don’t want them mussed because I’m going to dinner. No kissing and I ain’t touching you,” I laid out the ground-rules.
“And you only get five minutes; I can’t be late for dinner!”
The cabbie looked me over again.
“Fuck it! Deal!”
“When am I ever going the opportunity to feel up a eighteen year old again?” he sighed and pulled off the beltway onto the parkway.
He pulled off the road and parked in a secluded parking bay.
As soon as the car stopped the cabbie reached over and put his hand on my thigh and squeezed.
“Pull your skirt all the way up your thighs,” the cabbie begged.
“Hang on a minute. I don’t want my suit wrinkled,” I said and awkwardly removed my skirt in the confines of the front seat of the cab.
I lay it down on the back seat and then I took off my jacket, folded it, and placed it over my skirt.
“Your five minutes starts now,” I huffed impatiently.
I sat in the gloomy cab dressed only in my blouse, underwear, hose and heels. The cabbie gasped and reached for me again. The cabbie began to stroke my thigh just below the hem of my slip; in the silence of the car his fingers rasped on my sheer hose.
The cabbie groped at my legs, he ran his fingers under my slip and up and down my nylon-encased thighs. He was huffing and puffing with excitement. He moved his hands up to my breasts and squeezed them through the flimsy satin and lace of my bra.
Then he took one hand off my tits and fumbled in his lap. I heard his zipper open and I glanced over and saw his stubby erect penis sticking out of his trousers.
“Do you mind? You said I could?” he whispered.
“Knock yourself out,” I said flippantly, “you’ve got about three minutes left.”
I wasn’t turned on sexually and I could easily afford the fifty-dollar cab fare. What I wanted was that enormous sense of omnipotence I got from making men pay me for sex; it was just so empowering. I loved the fact that I had made so much money from sex and yet I was still a virgin!
The bahis şirketleri cabbie stroked my pantyhose-clad legs with his free hand and furiously masturbated himself with the other. His hand crept up to the top of my thighs and came to rest on the front of my panties. I opened my legs obligingly for him so he could stroke my cunt through the gossamer-thin layers of nylon and satin.
That was all it took. The cabbie groaned and climaxed. Gobbets of semen flew around the front of the car; a rope of hot spend splattered on my calf.
“Oh Christ you are you so young and beautiful!” he moaned as he stroked himself in a frenzy of self-gratification.
I deliberately stared ahead, feigning boredom as he pawed at my pussy while he shot his load. This seemed to turn him on even more; and why shouldn’t he be excited? He had an extremely pretty teenager sitting in the front seat of the cab dressed only in her lingerie, showing complete disinterest while he fondled her and masturbated. It must have been huge turn on for him and I knew the cabbie would find it exquisitely arousing.
I let him finish and then took a handkerchief from my purse and dabbed at the semen on my calf.
“You came on my nylons; that wasn’t part of the deal!” I snapped at him.
I managed to squeeze back into my skirt and smooth it out while the cabbie cleaned himself up and zipped up his fly. He was still breathing heavy and beads of sweat had broken out on his brow.
“Lets go mister; I don’t wanna be late,” I said and reached over and turned on the radio to signal I had no further interest in conversation.
We arrived at the restaurant at six fifty-five and as the car pulled up I reached over and grabbed my jacket. The cabbie was looking more than a little perplexed.
“Don’t suppose there’s any chance I can see you again?” he smiled sardonically.
“You know whose house you picked me up from?” I asked.
Not waiting for an answer I went on.
“Lucien Joiner’s; that’s who! THE fucking Lucien Joiner!……….and I’m his granddaughter!”
“Jesus!” the cabbie paled, his fear was tangible.
Lucien Joiner was one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in the state.
“Here,” the cabbie scrambled around in his pockets and produced a twenty.
“Buy some new pantyhose; I’m sorry I came on them,” he offered me the twenty.
“You’re pathetic,” I snapped at him.
I snatched the twenty-dollar bill from his hand and swung myself out of my seat, giving the cabbie a great view up my skirt as I exited the cab. I didn’t look back as I strutted towards the maitre’d who was dutifully holding the door open for me. I had a wry smile on my face; a free cab ride and twenty dollars for letting some old geezer paw my tits and my pussy through my underwear. Not a bad deal!
The hostess escorted me to mother’s table; she was, as always, dressed sophisticatedly and sexy. She wore her hair piled high, expensively coffered. She was wearing a navy-blue suit, the short skirt riding high on her long legs and the jacket impossibly tight to emphasise her large breasts. A cream silk blouse, and ridiculously high, black high-heeled pumps completed the ensemble. Her makeup was heavy; black mascara and eyeliner, smoky eyeshadow, red lipstick and matching fingernail polish. She wore lots of jewellery, which glittered in the candlelight.
Mother was eighteen when she tricked my father into getting her pregnant and marrying her; at thirty-five she still looked young and sexy and we could easily have been mistaken for sisters and often were.
“Hi honey; sit down and tell me all about your day,” she smiled up at me.
“You been banging your granddaddy again sugar?” she cooed.
The hostess looked shocked as she held my chair for me while I seated myself across from Dee-Dee.
“Just panty-pops mother; are you still letting him fuck you every Wednesday?” I smiled back.
The hostess paled.
“Two Chardonnays dear, and a bourbon neat on the side for me,” my mother said dismissively.
“Em; should the young lady be drinking?” the hostess asked.
“Well honey; if she’s old enough to panty-fuck the richest and most influential man in this city; who just happens to be her granddaddy, I’m sure she can have a little wine with dinner. Now why don’t you just get your skinny little ass over to the bar and get my drinks?” mother shot at her.
I watched the hostess talking animatedly with the maitre’d, she appeared to be quite distressed at what she had overheard and at what Dee-Dee had said to her. I saw the maitre’d dismiss her protests with a wave of his hand and the hostess proceeded to the bar to get our drinks. I smiled to myself; I loved coming from a rich and powerful family and I loved to exercise my power. Watching mother carve up the hostess and the maitre’d’s flippant response, while quite trivial in the scheme of things, was still empowering.
“Yes mommy I was at The Big House this afternoon and yes I did let Grandpa Lucien panty-pop as usual for my regular fees,” I said taking up our conversation where we left off.
“Don’t call me mommy dear, you know I hate that now that you’re all grown up,” Dee-Dee smiled sweetly at me but her eyes were icy-cold.
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