My Granddaughter, Jasmine

  • Posted on July 10, 2024 at 4:34 pm

This site has been too long without a new story from our beloved kinkys_sis — a shameful state of affairs, I’m sure you’ll agree. Well, here’s a fresh serving, piping hot from the oven. Do enjoy.


by kinkys_sis

It was the biggest, most unexpected shock of my life when my husband suddenly passed away after a massive heart attack. Widowed at only forty-nine. Never could I have imagined the deep sense of loss and devastation I would feel.

I more-or-less cut myself off from everyone, both friends and family, even my own daughter. Oh, they tried, but I pushed them all away, and eventually, they just about gave up on me.

The years passed, one day just drifting into another. I barely noticed. The brandy, whiskey and wine helped numb my aching heart.


The phone rang for an age. It wasn’t that I hadn’t heard it. I simply didn’t want to answer the damn thing.

Peace … finally the noise stopped. But then almost immediately, it started again and kept on until I eventually picked up.

“What?” I snapped into the phone.

There was no answer, only the sound of a girl crying. Crying from the heart, which was something I understood.

More gently, I asked, “Who is it?”

“It’s me … Jasmine.”

Jasmine was my granddaughter. She’d always been special to me, but I hadn’t spoken to her in a long time. I felt a twinge of guilt. I used to spend so much time with her, and I’d loved watching the bright and sparkly girl grow up.

I was trying to recall how old she must be now but struggled with the math.

“Whatever’s the matter, child?”

I heard her take a deep breath, then in a calmer voice, she asked, “Can I come up and spend a few days with you, Grandma? I need to get away. Mum says it’s okay if you’ll have me.”

“What about school? Won’t you get in trouble?”

“I’m not at school. I’m finished.”

That shook me. I didn’t know my own family anymore, and I had been alone for so long that the prospect of a having anyone over brought me to the verge of panic.

I took a few deep breaths, forcing myself to calm down. She sounded so lost, and I knew full well what that was like. I couldn’t turn her away. And I did want to see her. I steeled myself before I replied. “When do you want to come? I can pick you up at the train station.”

I could hear the relief in her voice, “Thanks. Mum said you’d say no, but I had no one else to ask. Is this evening too early? I can catch the four o’clock, which gets to you at five-fifty. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is, I’ll wait for you in the station carpark.”


As I rushed about the house, doing a bit of tidying, I did some hasty calculations in my head. Jasmine would be sixteen or seventeen now. I really should have known, but it was too late to be worrying about that. Then I had an idea. I hadn’t been on Facebook since …  well, whenever. I would check her page, which would likely tell me something of what she’d been up to. The last I remember, there’d been a fuss over some profile pic she posted. I never got to see it, so I had no idea what it had all been about.

I searched for Jasmine Slaughter, only to be confronted with a long list. I narrowed it down by ignoring the wrong towns and cities. I barely registered a Jas Slaughter as I scrolled down, the small profile pic showing only an ample bosom and no face. Then I found her. It was immediately obvious she didn’t post very often. The last one was several months ago, and it didn’t tell me anything worth knowing, although there were a lot of pics of her and another girl I didn’t recognise.

Curiosity took me back to the entry for Jas Slaughter, which had listed the same town as my granddaughter. As soon as I saw the full size pic in “photos”, I knew it was her. I recognized the background where the pic had been taken. But what a pic! It was obviously a selfie and intended to show off her tits, which were much larger than normal for such a young girl. They strained at the zippered top, which just concealed her nipples. How she kept them in, God knows. It struck me, she couldn’t have been older than twelve when it was posted. No wonder there had been trouble over it.

I sat there just staring at the almost exposed tits, the glorious cleavage on someone so young. I shook my head. What was I doing? I shouldn’t be ogling my granddaughter’s tits, and certainly not those of a twelve-year-old. What on earth had she been thinking? She must have wanted people to look. That’s what the pic was all about. But presumably, she was showing off for men – not her grandmother! And yet, here I was, experiencing the oddest feelings. It took me back to my younger days when on a few occasions I found myself imagining doing things with another girl. I’d put it down as a teenage phase. I’d never actually done anything, and those types of thoughts had faded as I got older.


I stood beside my car as the crowd poured from the station entrance, and then I saw her. My God, she was beautiful – and so grown up-looking compared to when I had last seen her. Her long hair framed the beaming smile she flashed my way when she saw me wave. Reflexively, my eyes fixated on the swaying tits as she walked towards me. It was clear that they were even bigger now than in the pic I’d found. They were so obvious even under the loose, floppy jumper she was wearing.

I tore my eyes away, hoping she hadn’t noticed me staring. Then she was hugging me, pulling me tightly against her. All I could think of was the feel of those tits, which were so full that they seemed to prevent us getting really close.

As she hefted her suitcase into the back of the car, I took a deep breath and told myself to get a grip. I couldn’t understand what was wrong with me. I’d never had thoughts like this before.

We buckled ourselves in, and she reached for my hand. “Thank you again, Grandma. I’m sorry to have dumped myself on you like this, but you were the only one that I could think of who I’d be comfortable with right now. I’m sick of everyone else telling me what to do. You never did that, and you always listened to me if I needed to talk.”

“I’m happy you rang,” I said. “I’ve had so little to do with anyone for ages. You might be the kick in the ass I need.”

She leaned over to peck me on the cheek, squeezing my hand. “Maybe we can help each other,” she said.

The touch of her lips shook me. I was sure she meant it as a simple show of affection, but it was like an electric shock to my system. Once again, I wondered at my feelings, knowing I had to bury them before she noticed anything.

“Are you hungry? How about we get a McDonald’s or something before we go home?”

“I’m starving, but is there a Burger King? I like them better.”

At the restaurant, if I may call it that, I found myself watching her every move, and her engaging smile, which just managed to conceal the sadness or hurt she seemed to be feeling. But mostly, it was those bloody tits!

I tried to hide behind my burger, desperate not to show where my eyes kept drifting. Her smile changed to a grin. “It’s okay,” she said. “They have that effect on everyone. I try and hide them a bit these days but it’s kind of impossible, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

I knew instantly that I was blushing, something I never did. I searched for how to answer her but nothing sensible came to mind. Instead, I blurted out, “I looked on Facebook to see what you’ve been up to.”

“And you found Jas, right? I meant to delete that account long ago, but I guess I forgot.”

Now my face felt as though it was burning. “I do remember there was some bother about a pic you posted, but I never saw it. Now I understand. It’s rather revealing and clearly meant to be outrageous, but it really is beautiful.”

“I’ve never seen you blush before,” she said. “Do my boobs embarrass you?” She reached over and took my hand. “When men started staring at them, I actually liked it. I went out of my way to show more of them. Then I noticed sometimes women were looking, too. Most in a disapproving way, but not all. And I liked the women looking more than the men. So don’t feel weird. Maybe I should tell you why I’m here.”

“Let’s go home first,” I said. “Finish your burger. Besides, I need a drink.”


Having downed a swift shot of brandy, I opened a bottle of wine. I didn’t consider Jasmine’s age. She was a big girl now – that thought made me laugh – and certainly grown up enough for a glass or two of claret.

“I’d like a brandy too, if I’m allowed,” Jasmine said. “Do you have any lemonade? I like brandy and lemonade.”

I raised an eyebrow, but what the hell. Maybe her nerves needed calming just as much as mine did.

When we were seated in the living room, she told me the story.

It started with that pic on Facebook. Her best friend, Mandy, had drooled over her tits. She’d been there when the pic was taken. Jasmine had joked with her, and Mandy had made several suggestive comments.

“You sound like you’re gettin’ all hot over my tits,” Jas had told her.

“And what if I am?” Mandy said.

Jasmine said it had surprised her, but still, really only joking, she’d answered, “What you sayin’ – you wanna feel?”

“Fuck yeah,” Mandy said. “You gonna let me?”

“You get the drift,” Jas told me. “Maybe you don’t want to hear any more?”

I admit, I was shocked by what she was telling me. After all, she’d only been twelve at the time. But I was even more shocked to realise I wanted to hear all of it. I tried to play it down, to take the focus away from me. “No, I think you need to get it off your chest … Oh, sorry … But it’s a fun story. Go on.”

“Did you notice the zipper in the pic?” Jasmine said. “I looked at Mandy while I pulled it down. You should have seen her. Her eyes almost popped out when I took my tits out and leaned towards her. At first she just sort of felt them. But when my nipples began to stick out, she said, ‘So fucking hot.’”

I hadn’t realised when I’d emptied my wine glass. “Hang on a sec, Jasmine,” I said. “I need to fetch the bottle.”

I stopped dead in the doorway as I returned from the kitchen. Jasmine had taken her jumper off, although her back was towards me. “Whatever are you doing?” I asked.

She didn’t immediately turn around. “I just thought I’d add a bit of realism to the story. I mean, I can see how it enthralls you. I’ll put it back on if it bothers you.”

She turned to face me.

You might expect tits of that size to droop, but they didn’t. Well, not much, anyway. I’d guessed she wasn’t wearing a bra, and I was right.

Jasmine pointed at the bottle. “You want to refill our glasses, and I’ll carry on with my story.”

My hand shook as I poured the wine. Jasmine saw and laughed. “Am I getting you hot?” she said. “I don’t think I should be doing that. Are you …? Never mind. I’ll go on with the story, shall I?”

“If you want,” I said. Between the wine and the brandy, I’d stopped worrying quite so much.

“Well, like I said, when my nipples began to get bigger …  a bit like now” – she cupped one tit underneath and raised it toward me – “well, Mandy suddenly put her mouth over one and sucked and tickled it with her tongue. I was like, Mandy, what the fuck! But she kept right on sucking. Of a sudden, I didn’t want her to stop. I’d never felt anything like it before.”

My eyes were fixed on her fingers, which were now unconsciously pulling at a nipple as she talked. It was at that moment when I realised my pussy was tingling. Don’t stop, I silently urged. “So, what happened next?”

Jasmine glanced up, she looked curiously at me. “You getting worked up?”

Before I had time to come up with an answer, she continued, “I think that was when I grabbed a hold of Mandy’s head and held it tight to my tit. I told her how good it felt. Then she reached around and grabbed my ass. She put her hands down inside my joggers and my panties and began to squeeze. I should have stopped her, but instead I reached around her and pulled her closer.”

She paused as she lifted the glass and took a sip of her wine. Her fingers were still rolling a nipple between them. And still I stared.

“The next thing, we were on the carpet and getting our clothes off. She was more forward than me. Like, she was the first to put her hand between my legs and touch my pussy. God, it felt good. I guess it was like an hour that we played with each other. We made each other come … more than once.” Now she suddenly stopped and I saw the tears appear.

I went and took her in my arms. “That’s enough,” I said. “You don’t need to go on.”

For a while, I rocked her gently “Four years we were together,” she said. “Until last week when she told me, right out of the blue, it was over. She wanted to move on.”

I kissed the top of her head, all the time aware of the sight of her tits under my arm. I was equally aware of the temptation to take hold of them. But the girl was hurting. It would be wrong. Somehow I managed to control myself.

Finally, she spoke again.

“It’s not as bad as I thought at first. Maybe, I guess, I didn’t really love her, not deep down. It was just the shock after so long. Being rejected like that. But then I got really fed up with everyone talking about it, the way they’d go quiet whenever I walked in the room. I just wanted them to mind their own business.”

She looked up at me. “You understand. I knew you would.” Then she reached up and kissed me directly on the lips – just a quick peck, but enough to make me shiver. She kept her eyes fixed on mine.

“Yes, I understand my love,” I said. “I won’t ask silly questions, and I won’t try to tell you what to do.” I leaned quickly down and returned her kiss with a quick peck of my own. “Shall we have some more wine?”

Back in my own seat, I watched her dry away the tears before she took a large gulp from her glass. She lifted her legs onto the sofa and lay lengthwise, half propped on the side of the seat behind her. Once again, I found my eyes glued to her wonderful tits.

The smile was back on her face. “I’m glad you let me come. I guess I said that already, but I like the way you can’t help looking at me. It’s something I didn’t expect, turning my grandma on. And don’t look so shocked. I know I am and guess what? I don’t mind, not one little bit. Am I right? You don’t have to answer that if it bothers you.”

I stared at her, my thoughts in turmoil. She raised her fingers back to the nipple once more. Her expression didn’t change as she watched me for a while. “Grandma, your nipples are showing. Did you know that?”

I glanced down. Shit, it was true! But the wine had done its job, and I found myself answering, “It’s hardly surprising with what you’re doing to your own.”

She laughed. “I think maybe I can say what I’m thinking now. My pussy is all kinds of excited. How about yours?”

I hastily took another slurp of wine. I knew I ought to stop this before it got out of hand, but instead, I answered, “Yes… yes it is. And it’s been a long time. And what’s worse …  it’s because of a girl, and not just any girl. It’s my granddaughter for God’s sake!”

Jasmine laughed again. “You don’t know how good that makes me feel. And as for grandma, poof! Who cares? I don’t.” With that, she was pushing her leggings down her thighs. Her free hand rubbed the front of her panties. The other lifted a tit to her mouth. I was torn between watching the fingers on her pussy or the nipple between her lips.

She took a moment to raise her head from her tit. “Your nipples need touching as well, you know. I’d like to see that.” Then she was sucking the nipple again.

Suddenly, she struggled with one hand and pushed her panties down to join the leggings. Her legs spread as far as they could, hampered as they were by the clothes around her knees. Her eyes remained fixed on mine whilst she bent two fingers and dipped them between her pussy lips.

As if in a dream, I cupped my breasts through my blouse. I was startled at how large my nipples had become. Oh yes, it did feel nice. I almost closed my eyes with the feeling of pleasure that surged over me, but I had to keep watching this girl who was by now openly fucking her pussy in front of me.

“Take your top off,” she said.

It almost stopped me. What the fuck was I doing? But as she saw my hesitation, she took the hand from her pussy and sucked her fingers. It was something I’d never done. It hadn’t ever crossed my mind. But now, my God, it was so hot seeing her lap up her own pussy juices.

I undid my blouse and shrugged out of it, covered my bra with my hands and squeezed.

“No,” Jasmine said. “Take the bra off too.”

Other than a hospital nurse, no woman had ever seen me naked before. Yet now, I unclipped my bra and bared my tits to my own granddaughter. They were less than a quarter of the size of hers, which made me self-conscious, but still, it felt deliciously naughty.

Jasmine sat up. “Fuck, Grandma, you’ve got lovely tits.”

“For a saggy old woman.”

“Oh, stop,” she said. “Come over here, so we can compare.”

It was with some considerable trepidation that I moved to sit beside her. My pulse was racing as she took my hand and lifted it to her tits. I only resisted slightly before my fingers were tentatively stroking the softness of her bosom. “Hold them properly, Grandma,” she said. “You won’t hurt them.”

I felt an insane urge to giggle. “Stop calling me Grandma,” I said. “It just reminds me what we’re doing is wrong. Call me Claire, will you?”

“What’s so wrong in me wanting to love my gr … Claire?” Suddenly, she crushed her lips to mine. Her arms held me tightly, those gorgeous tits pressing into me. Any last reservations I had dropped away as I immersed myself in the kiss.

When I felt her hand lifting my skirt, I didn’t try and stop it. I was far too gone for that. My pussy was aching for its first touch in God knows how long. And it was a woman’s touch. God, no! It was my granddaughter’s touch. And a young girl besides.

I groaned as her fingers pressed into me. I hadn’t realised just how wet I had got. But I knew now by how easily she pushed in deep and began to fuck me. Her head pulled back. “Does it feel good, Claire? I’d like it if you did me.”

I’d never touched a woman’s pussy before. Now, it was all I wanted. My desires were getting out of control in a way I’d never experienced. Whether it was because I’d gone without for so long, or the forbidden nature of this whole situation, I had no idea. Jasmine was clearly knowledgeable in the ways of female love. I even thought that from the moment she saw me, so obviously fascinated by her tits, she’d decided she was going to seduce me … and she bloody well had.

She took hold of my hand. “Wait,” she said, “why don’t we get properly naked? You know we’re going to in the end because we’re going to make love. Don’t be shy. Let’s have some fun.”

She was right. There was no turning back. But it might have been better had she let things run their course rather than stating it so bluntly.

She saw my hesitation. “Sorry,” she said. “You may have gathered by now that I’m a bit outrageous, I’m an exhibitionist and naughty with it. I mean, who would put a pic of their tits out there for anyone to see if they weren’t?”

With that, she grabbed my skirt. “Come on – off!”

In a sort of daze I got to my feet. Jasmine sat up in front of me and dragged both my skirt and panties down. I expected her to either remove her own things or to pull me down onto the sofa. Instead, I got another shock. She pulled me forwards, leaned in and covered my pussy with her mouth. Her tongue forced its way between my lips, wiggled for a moment, and then licked up to my clit. She pursed her lips and sucked hard.

It was such an intense feeling – and one I’d never experienced. I’d often wondered what it be like to have someone go down on me, but it wasn’t something my husband ever wanted to do. I could only marvel at how wonderful it felt.

Jasmine tilted her head back and grinned. “You like that?”

Yet again, I must have looked shocked. “Hey, Grandma,” Jas said, “I can see you’ve got a lot to learn. And by the way, I think I prefer Grandma. It’s dirtier.”

She sat back, lifting her feet as she tugged her leggings and panties off. Then she lay back with one knee crooked to the side. My eyes went straight to the glistening and slightly open pussy lips. She just lay still, watching me look down in awe at this beautiful young creature waiting for me to love her.

I didn’t know how to make the first move, but she lifted a hand to me. “It’s time you and I fucked,” she said, laughing as I lowered myself down beside her. “I love talking dirty to my grandma. It’s like the coolest thing ever. What do you say, Grandma?”

It was my turn to laugh. “I think you’re a filthy-minded little girl. Well maybe not so little.” I reached for a tit. “And I think you’re trying to corrupt your poor old grandma – not that it took much of an effort.” With that, my other hand went down between her legs. “I want to feel your pussy,” I said.

“Grandma, that’s my cunt. Stick your fingers in my cunt and fuck me, and open up and let me do you.” Her hand went around my neck and pulled me to her. Her arousal was obvious. The kiss wasn’t at all tender like the first one had been. It was wild and passionate, but it broke off when she rolled us off the sofa to the floor. The lust was clear on her face.

“Just fuck my cunt with as many fingers as you can. Don’t worry about my clit for now,” she told me.

Hazy as my mind was, I still had the thought: this girl knows how to make love. I’d never considered the difference between a straightforward fuck and playing with a clit. The question had never arisen in my entire life.

We fucked each other deep, adding more fingers as our cunts stretched out. I knew I would peak very soon. And so did she. “You’re almost there, Grandma,” she said. “Turn around so I can suck your clit, and you’re going to suck mine!”

I almost panicked as she pushed me around. I didn’t know if I could put my face to a soaking wet pussy, never mind suck on it.

The jolt hit me hard when her mouth covered my tingling clit. It was beyond words. Never had I known anything like it. I immediately felt my orgasm building, but I also realised I mustn’t let my lover down.

I exposed her clit with my fingers, and instantly, I knew that I’d worried over nothing. I wanted to love this beautiful thing, now so close to my face. I sucked it up, slipping my hand beneath her bum as she raised her hips. I mirrored what she was doing to my own clit, my tongue pressing, circling and flicking.

Whereas my body was beginning to tense, hers jerked against my every touch. She pressed her body down on top of me, and her hips gyrated as she fucked her pussy on my mouth and tongue.

Time seemed to stand still as my back arched off the floor. I thrust my arms and legs out, and my climax crashed over me. Wild, exhilarating and so … new. I was vaguely aware Jasmine was no longer grinding hard on me. Rather, her cunt was giving short backwards and forwards jerks on my mouth. I felt the hot wetness on my face and I knew she was coming, too.

I sank into the haze of pleasure, riding an orgasm like none I’d ever had.

Soon, I became aware of the weight of her body pressing down on me. She seemed to be asleep. I rolled her sideways before turning myself around. But she wasn’t asleep. She was grinning at me. “Wow, Grandma,” she said, “you fuck real good. That was so far out.” Then she laughed. “Oh dear, your face is a mess. I made it all sticky and gooey.”

I smiled back at her. “And so is yours. But that’s hardly surprising because I have never come like that before. I didn’t even know I could.”

“Let’s kiss and get a taste of each other.”

For ages we kissed and groped. Now I had time to enjoy playing with those great big tits. I also had time to reflect on what had happened. I certainly didn’t regret it, even though the thought of incest perhaps should have bothered me. I said a mental thank-you to Mandy. I knew it was extremely unlikely Jas and I would be here now if she hadn’t given Jas the brush-off.

“What are you smiling at?” Jasmine asked.

I hesitated a moment, worried I might stir the hurt up again. “I was just thanking Mandy for sending you to me,” I said. “And you, I guess. This would never have happened if you hadn’t made it. So when did you decide that we were going to …?”

Jasmine interrupted me as I searched for the right word, “Fuck, Grandma. That’s what we did. And I decided almost as soon as I saw you and the way your eyes kept going to my tits. Even before I got into the car, my pussy was twitching. I wanted you. But I also wanted you to want me, so I sort of played it cool. I knew there was the whole grandmother-granddaughter thing to get through, but I could see how you reacted when I teased you. So I was pretty sure we were going to fuck.”

“You can stay as long as you want,” I said. “I want you to.”

“There’s nothing for me at home,” she said. “And I don’t much like my job either. Do you think I could stay here, maybe get a job so I can pay my way? Or am I being presumptuous?”

“Nothing would make me happier than if you stayed. And if we get to … fuck like that every day … well, then life would be perfect.”

A wicked grin lit up her face. “Grandma, I’ve got so much to show you.”

I couldn’t begin to imagine. But I was more than willing to find out.

The End


13 Comments on My Granddaughter, Jasmine

  1. Jacqueline Jillinghoff says:

    Of course, we’ve never met, but I still can’t help thinking of kinyks_sis as mine. She’s a young woman, still growing as a writer, and this one feels like a step forward, with a whole new level of feeling. It was a pleasure to read, a pleasure to edit, and a pleasure to see it posted.

    I see, too, the relationship to my own story “Suck Them Forever,” which you commented on. But it’s a big world, and there’s room enough for lots of big tits.

  2. BlueJean says:

    Definitely a new level of maturity to this latest Kinky the Younger effort. You’re really starting to get into the heads of the characters here. You also took the more challenging route of writing it from the grandmother’s perspective, instead of the granddaughter’s, which was a bold move.

    The sex was fairly abrupt considering it was a first time encounter between a grandmother and granddaughter. In short form, the challenge is to make that scenario as plausible as you can in such a small word count. A more drawn out conversation, maybe, that starts out normally, then gradually shifts to matters of sex? Perhaps more teasing hints, more reluctance before the inevitable happens. I think this is the challenge all us writers face with these stories – How to make the implausible plausible.

    Certainly your best so far. I enjoyed it a lot.

  3. kinkys_sis says:

    Thank you Jacqueline for providing that extra bit of polish that my writing always needs. It’s true, I guess, we do have an affinity.

    BlueJean says – ‘A more drawn out conversation, maybe, that starts out normally, then gradually shifts to matters of sex?’ Actually, JJ did suggest exactly that but rightly or wrongly, I decided to leave it as it is. Perhaps I should have given it a little more consideration?

    But anyway, thank you both for your favourable comments.

    By the way, the story was based on a family member of ours who did post a pic of her exceptionally large boobs on Facebook when she was the same age as the young Jasmine. It caused a huge fuss at the time.

  4. Mystery Mouse says:

    Incest short stories are a bit of a double-edged blade for me. A longer story would have the time to really develop the relationship between the characters, and hammer home just what drives them to overcome such a big taboo. But a shorter story has less words to wade through to get to the squishy stuff.

    And we do so like squishy stuff.

    I’d say this story balances things pretty nicely. Yes, a longer story would draw us in more. But the concept of an amazing bosom kicking things off helps out a lot. Our poor protagonist was basically lost from the minute she saw that Facebook picture…

    Things to highlight include Jasmine being asked to call her grandmother by name so what they’re doing doesn’t feel so wrong. This lasts for a few seconds before Jasmine is back to calling her ‘Grandma’. And her grandmother doesn’t mind at all. That’s a very neat touch.

    I also liked Claire being nervous about going down on her granddaughter because she’d never done that before. It’s a little thing but it helped make the story feel real.

    I wouldn’t say no to a longer, Snyder Cut, version of this story but I really enjoyed what we had. Very nicely done indeed.



  5. Erocritique says:

    I really enjoyed everything about this story: The spontaneity of the sex actually made it better imho. And I wouldn’t say it was too abrupt, as there was some solid buildup from the start. The heartbroken sexy little vixen seducing the sexually deprived broken older woman angle worked very well – especially when you add in the alcohol. I viewed the spontaneity of the sex as being the result of the circumstances and the timing. And it was very erotic: From grandma perving on the photo, to perving on her granddaughter’s tits at the station, to the storytelling of Jasmine’s first time, to the exhibitionism, to the little domination play where Jasmine ordered her grandma to take her clothes off, to the actual sex. All very hot. It “worked” for me. A short wanker that was a cut above, imho. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

  6. Kim & Sue says:

    I can’t think of a bigger turn off than brandy and lemonade, seems like a waste of brandy. But we digress. We have to agree with J.J. and BlueJean that maybe a little more chat or warm up before the sex would have been good. But just the same there was still enough lead in and realism to make the sex work. Nicely done, and we’ll be giving it a reread for sure at some point soon. Thanks for writing it, and thanks to J.J for fine editing.

  7. Tim says:

    I have to agree most with the opening statement “It has been far too long without a new story from our beloved Kinkys_sis”.
    I do note the comments above, but in my humble opinion 30 votes out of 38 saying excellent can’t be wrong.
    Maybe there could have been more build up, but for a short story I personally found it a thoroughly wnjoyable read.
    Thanks for writing kinkys_sis.

  8. kinkys_sis says:

    @Mystery Mouse – You have rapidly developed into a fine critic. You pick out certain points of a story and make sensible observations. Thank you for those made here. Without wanting to debate, I have no problem with incest, I see it as unnecessary taboo. Even nature has no problems with it.

    @Erocritique – I’ve said it before… I always love your comments. Thanks.

    @Kim & Sue – I don’t drink brandy (or any spirits), but I do have a friend who drinks brandy and lemonade and it just came to mind when I was writing. As always though, I always love reading what you both have to say.

    @Tim – Someone that I consider as one of my fans. I kind of feel surprised to even have fans. Thank you for always being here for me.

    News:- I have two multi-chapter stories that will most likely be my next postings here. One reader has long waited for my sci-fi story… it’s coming soon. Then, hopefully, it’s back to Africa.

    • Rachel says:

      I for one have been a fan since I first discovered your stories.

      I think this one is so much more than … wait … titillating. Oh dear!

      I cried, I laughed and I loved with them. Your stories often enable the reader to do that.

      The observation that you are maturing as a writer is right. The comment that I most agree with, is by Erocritique.

  9. Sapphmore says:

    You know how sometimes you get fixated on something, then only later realise you’d wasted time focusing on the wrong thing? Well when I started reading the story, I somehow got fixated on exactly how many years had passed since Claire had seen her daughter and Jasmine, given she’d been special to her. Of course the answer of a sort was given later on when Jasmine’s age was revealed but I still wondered how old she’d been when Claire last saw her. Then I started wondering how she’d heard about the fuss over the Facebook pic if she hadn’t been in contact with her family.
    However, once I finished, I thought to myself, why had I been bothered about these little details, and to an extent the answer is because my job was about attention to detail, but given I retired 6 months ago, it must be so ingrained I do it without thinking.
    Anyhow, none of this detracted from my enjoyment of the story, but it did remind me of the debate on JS a little while back regarding the preference for serial versus short stories. If I recall, it was pretty balanced with many having no absolute preference either way, as long as they delivered – serial stories allow greater time for developing characters but shorts allow you to really punch through to deliver a shot of endorphins. As I write these comments, I thought it would have been nice to know how Jasmine’s mum felt about her 4 year relationship with Mandy or if she even knew. But do we really need to know? I guess the point is, we should read the story for what it is, although I did have a thought about perhaps just one more chapter where Claire is reconciled with her daughter who finds out about the relationship with Jas and either joins in or maybe for a change just comes to accept it seeing her mother is now happy.

    Still, a very nice story

    • kinkys_sis says:

      I do know exactly what you mean. Yet, I think maybe, that you have read it too quickly. Nowhere does it say that the Facebook incident occurred after Claire’s husband’s death. Perhaps I could have explained that a little bit more clearly.

      You might also notice that I seldom extend a story to encompass other family members. I like to make my point and end it where I’m not really sure there’s much of a story left. I seldom write for the sex alone… that bores me.

      As for the short versus multi chapter stories. I love both and I do try to write both. When it is a short story I tend to go for punchiness rather than detailed explanations… sometimes leaving the detail to the readers imagination.

      Don’t misunderstand, I am not complaining, I always appreciate any comments from writers whom I admire. How else would I learn?

  10. kinkychic says:

    Congratulations to JJ and Sis on an excellent story.

    As Sis says, Jasmine does exist. I remember her better than Sis when the girl was only twelve. She had the most unbelievable boobs for a twelve year old. Needless to say, she could pass for older than eighteen back then. Now she’s in her early twenties, she’s still the same size; although she does sag rather a lot now. Shame really.

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