The Nasty Wife

I returned home as per usual, nothing significant having happened at work, excluding my employees noting the irony of their boss being tardy. However, I knew Katy was waiting on me, since she'd have gotten home from the campus sometime in the late afternoon, and then it'd take Miranda an hour to arrive after my own arrival. The door was unlocked and I spotted her pink Converse on the floor, then her bag on the kitchen counter. Searching for my sister, I found her on the couch, laying on her stomach with a pillow underneath, uninterestedly watching TV. She turned it off when I sat by her socked feet.

"Does it still hurt?" I inquired.

"No," she wiped a bang from her eyes, "it's a little tender, though."

"About this morning—"

"Don't," I was stopped. "You have nothing to apologize over, you know that, right?"

"How don't I?"

"I understand her," she came out of left field. "It's like we're playing a game, and I don't regret being a player."

"What are you talking about?" my confusion was genuine.

"I'm talking about Miranda. It's like we're roleplaying, and she has all these thoughts and fantasies that she wants us to participate in, and even though they might feel so crazy and real, it's just pretend."

"I don't know, Kate, this morning didn't seem like fantasy or pretend to me. It's like we were about to—"

"Rape me? Please, that's impossible. You know I love you."

"I heard what you said to her after I left," I confessed, "and I've been thinking about it all day."

"What did you hear?" she sat up and scooted close.

"When you told her that you were crying because it'd please her," I clarified.

"Because it's true, I was just exaggerating. I mean, it was easier because I'd never been touched like that before, but I wouldn't have let it happen if I didn't seriously want it."

"Really?" if this was true, a fatal weight was lifted from my shoulders.

"Yes," she touched my cheek, caressing me with her thumb lightly. "But there is one thing that bothers me."

"What's that?" I was drowning in her lively, hazel eyes.

"I'm in love with you, and even though she tries to contain and limit our time spent together in that way, I want you for myself."

"In love...?" I stuttered. "Katy, you know I love you, but we're brother and sister. Being in love is like—"

"Is like what you and Miranda have, I know. I've been certain about this for a long, long time, and now I finally have the chance to act on it," she climbed atop my lap. "Hey, how much time do we have until she gets home?"

"An hour... Why? But Katy, do you understand—"

"So it's okay for us to lust after each other as siblings, but we're not allowed to love?"

"It's wrong either way," I affirmed, "but it's different when it's more than just fooling around."

"It's only wrong because you say it is. If you agreed with me, if you felt for me as I do for you, then there wouldn't be a problem. But hey, while she's gone, we should have sex. It's the perfect opportunity to have each other before she intervenes again."

"I'm not sure, Kate, you make it sound like you want me to cheat on my wife..."

"That's exactly what I want," she leaned in and kissed me on the lips, though I didn't kiss back. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I'm not betraying Miranda, even if you do mean a lot to me..."

"She doesn't care if we fuck. You've already got her complete permission to have your way with me as much as you want."

"Just not in this way," I included the most quintessential detail. "This is different."

"She won't know about it unless you tell her."

"I can't, Katy, and you know that."

"You know," she crossed her arms, still in my lap, "it's funny. She gives me more attention than you do."

"What's that supposed to mean?" her implication was beyond me.

"If I told Miranda that I was in love with her, she would pet, kiss, and talk sweet to me. I tell you the same thing and you reject me. When we 'fool around', she touches me more than you do. Even when we're just talking, she speaks to me way more than—"

"Okay, okay, I get it. But what's your point?"

"My point is that you're an asshole and your crazy ass wife treats me better, even and especially when she's telling me her sickest, most ruthless of thoughts."

I was offended. "That's not fair. I'm the one looking out for you while—"

"While she calls me her baby and loves on me? And how are you looking out for me when, every time things get out of control, you don't even do anything to stop her? Not that I'm asking you to, I mean."

"What do you want me to do, then? Have sex with you to show you that I care?"

"No. I'm not even in the mood anymore. But when your wife gets home, I am going to confess to her what I've just confessed to you. I don't think it was enough to say it; I am going to show you how much of an ass you truly are."

"Fine, then," I said in frustration.

"Humph, fine," she took the seat to my right.

"Good."

"Grand," my sister one upped me, fueling our childish game.

"Brilliant."

"Perfect," she used my lap as a pillow as she turned the television back on.

"Better than perfect," I covered her eyes.

"Better than perfect times infinity," she backhanded me in the chest.

"Oh yeah...? More perfect than perfect to the infinite power," I poked her in the side.

"More perfect than perfect to the power of go fuck yourself," she retorted, where I could think of nothing better to say.

After a pause, I inquired, "So what are you going to say to her?"

"You know," she flipped through the channels, "just how I'm in love with her."

"And what are you expecting to gain out of this again?"

"I just want to put you in your place. When she calls me her baby girl and touches me until I feel like I'm going to faint, you're going to realize that you're the biggest prick on the face of the earth."

"If I'm the biggest prick on the face of the earth, then you're the biggest bitch in the entire solar system."

"If I'm the biggest bitch in the entire solar system, then that makes you the biggest prick in the universe."

"Well, at least I don't get off being called 'Miranda's little gay girl' or whatever."

"At least I didn't cum to a picture of our mom," she delivered the finishing blow.

There was some more discourse, but the wife finally came in, set her things down, and walked over to us.

"I see you two are doing fine, then," she said, hands at her hips. "Hopefully I didn't miss anything while I was gone," she looked to me.

"Miranda...!" Katy hopped up. "There's something I have to confess to you."

"Alright, what is it?" the brunette was suspicious, studying the blonde from behind her thick framed glasses.

"Well... I'm in love with you. I've been thinking a lot about it, and that's the conclusion I've come to."

"Did he put you up to this?" Miranda gestured to her husband, who watched with anticipation.

"No, of course not," the girl was defensive. "I mean, we talked about it briefly, and then I told him I was going to come clean to you, but honestly..." she paused. "I think it made him jealous."

"Well," my wife pulled her heels off and wiggled her nylon covered toes, "I'd be flattered, but I'm pissed off. The bitch rode me hard for being late, though I get to keep my job. She made me do everything but eat her pussy to make things right, so I'm really bitter at the moment."

I caressed my beloved's side as she stood next to me, giving her an empathetic look. "I'm sorry, Hun. Is there any way I can help you unwind?"

"No," her face was grave, her tone indifferent, and she ruffled her hair. "I think," she went on, sitting down and putting her feet up on the coffee table, "I just need to relax."

Katy was shocked, staring at the dark haired woman with her jaw partially dropped. "But what about me...?"

"What's the matter, babe?" Miranda asked, massaging her weary soles, though her inflection was unlike it usually was when addressing my sibling.

"I just confessed that I was in love with you."

"I'm sorry, dear; it's been a long day. I'd go to sleep if it didn't mean I'd wake up to the same thing all over again."

My sister gasped, pouting in her need for attention. "What do I have to do to get you to acknowledge me?"

"Well," my spouse rubbed her aching arches, "would you massage my feet? They hurt from running any and everywhere from the moment I clocked in to the moment I clocked out."

"But I'm in love with you!" Katy pleaded.

"Then you wouldn't mind doing this one thing for me?"

"But feet are gross..."

"I'm not asking you to suck them, I'm just asking for a little rub. Please, pretty, pretty please?"

"Ugh, fine..." the blonde groaned, getting on her knees beside both the table and Miranda's legs. "This'll get you to notice me?" she needed some final reassurance.

"Yes, I'll appreciate this so, so much. You have no idea how much I need this..."

Without saying anything, Katy picked up her left foot and started to work its sole with her thumbs. My wife was swooning, melting into the sofa, and urged the girl to continue. The skintight fabric darkened her complexion, and I realized that the sensation of the massage was probably amplified because of the nylons she wore. Looking to my sister, I saw that she had no idea what she was doing, but switched to the right foot to give it the same treatment.

"This feels... weird."

"Ah, but it feels so good on my end," my spouse cooed, her eyes closed. "What's weird about it?"

"It just feels kind of—I don't know—erotic, I guess," Katy complained.

"Would you have a problem with that?"

"Well, no—"

"Mm, what would you do if I put my toe in your mouth?"

"I'd vomit," my sibling grimaced. "Your feet smell like sweat."

"If you worship them with your mouth, I'll give you a present," an enthusiastic Miranda offered.

"What kind of present?" the blonde knew to be reluctant.

"Okay, here's the deal," my beloved began, sitting up to strip her stockings off, revealing her fairest flesh underneath, "you can either guess what the present is, or you worship my feet and you find out when I give it to you."

"I don't know..."

"Come on, it'll be fun. Here, I'll even give you a clue. It's for smelling, but it's not for your nose."

"What the fuck?" I finally chimed in, unsure if I'd heard her backwards riddle correctly. "What the hell does that even mean?"

"Shush, that's for her to figure out."

"I don't think I want this present, that sounds... weird," Katy admitted.

"I promise you that you'll love it as soon as you find out what it is," the smiling Miranda reassured her.

"Shit, I hate surprises, and I can't think of anything. If you're supposed to smell it, but it's not for your nose, what the fuck is it for?"

"You'll find out soon enough, so either keep guessing or start licking."

"You're not tricking me into licking your feet just so you can make me smell your dirty nylons, are you?"

"No, no," the brunette guffawed. "That would be too easy, and besides, I don't think you've earned the right to smell them yet in the first place."

"I think I'd sooner miss out on the best present in the world than lick your feet."

"I don't know," Miranda hugged her purse, "it's a really good present. Are you sure you don't want it?" she asked, wagging her toes, of which were perfectly pedicured and beautified by black nail polish, in my sister's face.

"But they're your icky feet," Katy scowled.

"Well, it's either my feet or my asshole, sweetheart, so take your pick."

"Ugh, but they stink," she proceeded to whine.

"Here," my wife reached over, fetched one of her high heels from the floor, and presented it to my sibling. "Put your nose in this, and if it doesn't change your mind, then I'll just give you your present here and now."

"So all I have to do is smell your shoe?"

"Yeah, but you have to really breathe it in, with the tip of your nose touching the sole."

"Fine," Katy snatched the footwear.

I went to talk her out of it, asking, "Are you sure that's a good idea—"

Sticking her nose inside, Miranda watching expectantly, she inhaled. I could see her chest heave up with the breath she took, and then, by the time it collapsed on exhale, her eyes were in the back of her head. As she sat on her knees, her free hand dug its nails into her thigh before going absolutely spasmodic. The shoe fell from her face, her expression sour. Involuntarily, she periodically shook, as if trying to get the scent out of her system, rejecting it so thoroughly.

"Well," the blonde squeaked, "can I have my present now?"

"What'd my cup-Kate think?"

"I think it killed some brain cells," Katy was staring at the feet still so close to her, "but it wasn't that bad I guess," despite the fact that her tone seemed to suggest otherwise. "I mean," she wiped her mouth, and we both noticed at the same time that she was drooling, "uh... fuck..."

"What's the matter, baby girl?" Miranda was grinning coyly.

"My eyes are watering a little bit and I'm salivating," my sister confessed. "What about that present?"

"In a minute, love, but first you should," she put a big toe to her lips, "tell me why you're slobbering all over yourself."

"...Please—I—but..."

Katy closed her eyes, sinking down so the digit became an imprint visible through her cheek. She shuddered, her tongue slipping out to coil around the toe she suckled, before letting up with a squelch. Seizing the foot in both hands, she briefly licked the sole and pad before slurping the smaller toes, lapping in between them madly. When she went back to the largest digit, starting to as if fellate it, her eyelids opened, she looked at what she was doing and ceased. Wiping her mouth of the excess spittle, a stray line of saliva connected the big toe to her lips.

"Now the other one," Miranda crossed her ankles, presenting the opposite foot to my star struck sibling. "And then you can have your present, but only after you're done. Good job, though, on making it really sloppy thus far, that's just the way I wanted it."

"Ugh," Kate moaned, "this is so gross."

As she said this, however, she was already tonguing those tiny, wiggling digits. She took them into her mouth until she'd her maw around the entirety of the pad beneath them. Her lips smacked and smacked, sucking like her toes were little straws, to then lower her head to lick up and down from the heel to her sole. In between these vehement laps, she'd rub her nose into the now wet foot, sniffing hard. I'd no clue how she did it, but my wife succeeded in seducing my sibling with her feet.

"I think we should pick up where we left off from this morning," Miranda declared, pulling her foot from the eager worshiper, who whimpered as a result. "My gift should help us along in our revelries."

"You still haven't revealed what it is yet," I noted, somewhat curious, though almost frightened.

"Baby-Kate," my spouse ignored me, "why don't you bend yourself over the coffee table for Mommy and slip your panties down?"

"But what—"

"Strawberry short-Kate, I just need you to do this one last thing for me, then I promise I'll give you as much of your present as your pretty coed ass can handle."

Slowly, Katy's underwear fell from under her skirt and down her legs. Then, she pulled them away from her ankles and lay upon the table, knees to the floor and the socked soles of her feet facing upwards. Hiking up her denim bottoms, her vulva could be seen from behind between her thick, luscious buttocks. By this time, my wife was rummaging around in her purse, kneeling next to the girl who looked back at her. I leaned forward in my seat, trying to see what she'd brandished from her handbag.

"Uh, Hun, what the fuck is that?" I demanded she identify the brown vial as she showed it to my anxious sibling.

"It's for you to smell, baby girl, but it's definitely not for your nose," was her cryptic answer. "Why don't you take a guess what it's for, huh?"

Because of our failed penetration earlier that day, Katy's guess was, "My butt...?"

"Exactly!" she'd her face smooched all over as a reward.

I was now standing, having approached that I might loom over the two of them. "Miranda," my voice was firm as I addressed my beloved, "I want to know what that is before you bring it anywhere near—"

"It's okay, I trust her," my sister took my wife's hand and held it tight. "My mommy wouldn't do anything to hurt her cup-Kate... Would she?" she then asked, her voice uncertain.

"Never, so," she popped off the lid, "why don't you just—"

I blocked the unknown container with my hand as Miranda leisurely brought it up to her nostrils. "Tell me what it is and then I'll decide if this is a good idea or not, but you're going to have to really sell it to me."

"Even if it'll ruin the surprise...?" my spouse didn't even seem bothered by my disturbed state, where she was instead calm and collected.

"I don't like surprises," I informed her, my teeth almost grit.

"If you must know," her demeanor was snobbish, "they're called poppers. Do you know what that is, O husband of mine?"

"Not a clue, but it sounds like a drug, so give—"

"It's perfectly harmless," the brunette retracted her hand from mine. "Do you think I'd intentionally do something horrible to your sister? What, are you nuts? No, it'll relax every muscle in her body, that's all it does, and then it doesn't matter how hard you fuck her ass, she'll love every second of it."

"That sounds amazing," the potential victim was digging her fingers into her crotch at the mere thought.

"This doesn't feel right. I'm not comfortable with you drugging my sister, Miranda."

"Alright, then," she said, putting the vial to her own nose, taking a harsh sniff. When she'd no adverse reactions, only a shiver rolling down her body, she cleared her throat before announcing, "See? It's absolutely harmless."

"I, uh..." I observed her more carefully, but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. "I guess it's not dangerous, but what's the point if—"

Miranda fell back to her butt with a loud and sudden thud. "Don't let this scare you," she tried to keep herself contained, "but it's perfectly fine, I assure you. I'm just dizzy because my every muscle opened up at once. It's safe, so don't let my lightweight reaction make you think otherwise. Seriously," she started slurring her words and slavering, "a girl of your sister's size has nothing to worry about it."

My wife was sinking into the base of the couch with one shoulder, the arm attached to the other drooping right to the floor, her body inert and still.

"Babe," I went to her side and tried to help her sit up, "are you sure you're okay?"

"That shit really put me on my ass, didn't it?" she joked, where she used too much of her tongue when trying to form coherent speech. "Fuck, it feels like my cunt just turned into sopping mush, and, I'm not going to lie, this is the most comfortable I think I've ever been."

"You shouldn't have done that—"

"I trust you won't take advantage of me while I'm like this," the slobber mouthed brunette loosely grabbed at my collar.

"How long does this usually last for?" my bottomless sister was now standing beside me, investigating the drugged woman.

"Fifteen or twenty minutes," was slurred as a response. "Maybe you should wait, though, until I bounce back before it's your turn, cup-Kate." The way she'd said it was no longer attractive.

"What should we do to her?" Katy asked me, stroking her chin as she contemplated the possibilities.

"Nothing," I shot her down. "We're going to wait until she recovers, then—"

"But think of all the humiliating things we could do to her in fifteen minutes."

"Hey, fuck you, Kate," Miranda spit out. "This is supposed to be for you, you ungrateful—"

"Blah, blah, blah, I'm a stupid bitch," my sibling had grabbed her face, fingers against her cheeks, pretending to make her talk. "That's what you sound like right now. Hey!" she exclaimed as my wife tried to futilely swat her away. "Don't try to hit me, you rude woman."