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A devoted slave wears handcuffs.

By comparison, Jazmine has no compunction doing risqu__ things and she has a knack for causing Mom to worry.

While I am trying to look my sister in the eye and not stare at her crotch, she winks at me. Then she lifts the dress more and exposes her gold satin panties that match the garter belt. We both heard mom coming out of the bathroom down the hall. The dress dropped and my ass was out to the garage in a flash to unload the car.

In retrospect, from this point on, no more Sundays were typical. No other day was typical, either. Everyday of the week was a good day, but every day felt like reality had somehow shifted.

So excuse me if my thoughts wander. My head spins when I think about the new and different happenings. I am trying to piece together changing roles and new facets of people I thought I knew well.

Therefore, when my sister flashed me in the kitchen that was a new twist. I once had a roommate that flashed me her tits, or ass, or panties; a dramatic signal that her sweet pussy needed some attention. With my sister, I wondered if it meant the same thing. I hadn't seen my sister very much the past year nor called her much. Therefore, I was unfamiliar with her thinking.

I will explain later about Suzan's character and our relationship. For now, suffice it to say she enjoyed teasing in a generous way.

I was carrying in the groceries completely distracted because Suzan flashed me her satin covered kitty. My mind, was lost in ecstatic pleasures and burning in hell. I fantasized tracing my fingers up and down my sister's thighs... making ripples in her shiny brown and gold nylons... slowly hooking a finger under her gold garter belt and gently pulling her closer to my face... I'm on my knees in the middle of the kitchen, ...she stood there in front of me holding her skirt up high....My tongue is licking her thigh...

Lost deep in thought, I almost failed to notice my mom on the step stool, my head almost bumped into her butt cheeks. She was putting food away in the highest of cupboards.

We have an older house typical of Omaha and the Great Plains, nice woodwork, great charm, high ceilings and several spacious rooms on 2 two floors plus attic and basement. Renovators remodeled the kitchen was three years ago keeping the wickedly high cupboards. I don't know how many times I thanked the builders for making them so high. For some reason, Mom always puts dry goods as high as possible. Maybe she did that because of her unique background, a combination of Italian, Ukrainian, Orthodox and Methodist. That was the only explanation I could come up with.

Anyway, there is a tall step stool or a short ladder in the kitchen to access the upper cupboards. It has been my job for years and years to hold the ladder steady while Mom puts stuff away. It is a little task but one of my favorite things in the world.

I sometimes wonder if this is where my fetish for skirts and hose began. While standing beneath Mom I would hear the faint swish swish noise of nylon-clad thighs rubbing together. I would often smell the musky scent of sweet pussy mingled with the scent of sweet perfume. I could study the fabric and patterns up close for several minutes at a time, being just inches away from Mom's nicest Sunday hose. The silk or nylon was so pretty stretched across her skin. It often looked like one layer of art onyop of another layer of art. Pretty nylon mesh tightly wrapped over fine artful curves, silk and sheen threads masking velvet skin. Her luscious body made it all definitely art worthy.

When I was younger and shorter, I would often surreptitiously look up Mom's dress while I held the ladder steady.