Jasmine Fantasies: Going Native

'Damn it.' she thought, she was already horny enough; she shouldn't be reminiscing about her many conquests.

She could feel herself moisten. If she didn't get some relief soon, she was going to jill off right in the parking lot for someone to see and maybe help! Fortunately, her sister Peyton was of assistance, at least in the immediate sense. No, not like that. It's just she noticed Peyton walking in the store and noticed the time. Nearly noon again. She loved her sister and was very loyal to her. But she felt like she was the parent sometimes and not a sister just two years older. At twenty-two, she seemed like she had the weight of the world sometimes, while at just twenty, Peyton was carefree as a butterfly. Oh, she helped some. She was actually very good with the books, she practically managed the small hotel herself, she even was pretty handy with tools and helped Uncle Joe sometimes. But her timeliness was a subjective matter. Subjective to Peyton anyway.

She seemed to show up when she felt like it. The store opened at seven and Piper always opened, knowing Peyton would never be able to do the five a.m. thing. But she was supposed to pop in around nine just to see if Piper needed anything and be available for a few hours in case Piper had somewhere to go. And here she was popping in just before noon again. She had that look on her face too. Piper knew she had been well and properly fucked. Probably even woke up and had one to see her off this morning. She wondered male or female this time. Or both.

Like her, Peyton liked both sausage and taco, but unlike her, she was not a domme. Oh, she could play the part when she felt in an aggressive mood, but for Peyton it was mainly just all about the orgasm... or should I say multiple orgasms. She didn't care if she had to be the aggressor and coerce some naive girl into sucking her cunt, or lie down and take it while she rode him regardless of his own O, or if she could be on hands and knees while she was taken in the ass while licking out a wet twat, as long as she got hers, she didn't care.

Piper for some reason just had to be in command, to take charge... she couldn't come otherwise. Like Peyton, it was about the 'O,' but unlike Peyton, she couldn't seem to achieve it unless the other person, or persons, was submissively serving her. Peyton didn't mind rewarding others, after her own big 'O' of course, so she would give her partners a return favor if they were pleasing. When they shared others, Piper would cum until she was finished, then leave Peyton to get the other participants off if she wanted.

And now that Peyton had finally shown up, it was time to go find some tourist at the casino, or failing that, head to her toys in the back room or text one of her cunt munching submissives. "Afternoon, Peyton. I'm glad you could make it in today. I hope work didn't get in the way of your fucking too much. I know how much you try to keep your priorities in order," Piper quipped, playfully, but with intent... an intent she knew Peyton wouldn't care about.

Peyton just grinned, "No, no trouble at all. But you're absolutely right about the priorities. That's why I had the lovely Mrs. Two Moons over for a little taste this morning before I came into work. You know how expectancy can bring about a sweet tooth in some women."

Piper just shook her head. Audrey Two Moons was a 27-year-old mother of two, three in another month or so. Unlike Piper, Peyton had no trouble getting laid by the locals, as she was not as aggressive as her sister. Audrey had been her latest plaything for a few months... the mother just loved eating pussy.

Peyton had recounted her exploits to Piper and how Audrey really had developed a taste for her honey. Of course, Peyton had no problem returning the favor, either crawling between the thighs and looking up over the swollen belly while she tongued Audrey's dripping pussy, or bending her over and pounding away with her favorite strap-on as she squeezed Audrey's milk engorged melons.

And Wes Two Moons had no problem with his wife's little dalliance, as he was a benefactor of Peyton's charms also. "Well I'm glad Audrey was able to satisfy her sweet tooth this morning, but now that you're finally here, I've got matters to attend to." Piper said.

"Ha" Peyton burst out, the only matter you need to attend to is what you'll take into your own hands or maybe slipping JJ inside you."

Piper grew slightly embarrassed at her sister's comments even though she was right. JJ was her favorite dildo, a custom molded one and named after one of the two people she had submitted to long ago. JJ, or Jeff Junior, was named for Jeff Campbell, a fellow Native, well somewhat, that she had met at the casino a couple years ago.

She liked the look of her own people, she thought them beautiful. Like any race or nation, there were certainly some ugly ones, but some were exquisite. And many well- known people claimed at least some ancestry from Indian stock, no matter how small. Jeff, while no celebrity, fell into that category. He had explained to her once his lineage, some tribes from the western U.S. and he was 3/64 Indian or some shit like that. She didn't care. She just knew there was something about him, and she desired him. When they finally made it to the bedroom, after a brief stopover in an alley outside the casino, she without hesitation submitted to his desires. Deep throat, though she never had? No problem. Take it up the ass, though it was never her favorite? Absolutely. The second day, pick up this other woman he had wanted and eat her in front of him, though she was more of a receiver and not a giver in that particular act? She ate that peach like she was starving, just to please him. It gave her shivers even now thinking about how they had used her, and she had willingly let them... something she had not allowed since. She liked being in control... not being in control frightened her.

Her twat leaked at the thought of how the girl had ridden her face to an astounding climax, coating Piper's face in her love juice, while Jeff had fired his hot sperm seemingly directly into her cervix, even though in retrospect, she knew that was not physically possible. It was incredible and the reason for the dildo. The custom made ceramic phallus he had custom formed on his cock and sent to her as a remembrance. She always turned to it if not able to find a suitable accomplice. It somewhat embarrassed her, this fierce warrior woman, who couldn't get laid by the locals due to dominance, submitting to this man without question. Though Peyton was right, she was going to have a meeting with JJ if she didn't find a tourist soon, she still didn't want to admit it. "Not all of us have to cum a half dozen times a day like you, Sis. If I get the urge, I may find someone, but I'm not as desperate as you, and I also have other things on my plate."

"What the fuck-ever," Peyton guffawed. "Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better. I know better than that though. I can tell when you're in one of your moods, and you're in one now. You're so horny, if you don't find someone really quick, it's jill off time. Though you know, I keep telling you, if you're just willing to submit a little, I know someone who could satisfy your needs. Again. It's not as if you've never done it before."

Piper glared at her sister, she wasn't supposed to mention that at all, that one moment of weakness that led to a weekend of weaknesses. Peyton was all too aware of Jeff, and loved to rib her about it. "That only happened a couple of times. I was caught in a moment of weakness each time, and I have resolved it won't happen again."

"Suit yourself. You know you enjoyed it though. You know deep down you're just a slut like me. Perhaps you should give it some thought. I don't think the other person would mind too much. Hell, tell yourself you're having another moment of weakness, if it helps you afterwards. Anyway, go on, get out of here. I've got this until you get back, so tell JJ I said 'Hi.'"

Piper flipped her off as she hurried out of the store.

JASMINE WALKER

Jasmine was finally on the road. Although she had downloaded a bunch of new blues tunes, she was in the mood for retro 80s music. So she was singing along to a song from her teen years with the top rolled down on her convertible, when she noticed the sign. Road closure. Detour through toll road ahead. Damn. She hated driving that toll road. It was just as boring as the U.S. interstate system, with just a straight shot through, and she always felt it was a rip off from those damn Indians. Why did they get to have a toll road? Why did they have casinos? And with all the money she was sure they were raking in from the casinos, why did they still live on the run down reservation? She had never felt comfortable around Natives. They just clung to those damn reservations, and stayed drunk all the time. And they were so savage, so aggressive. How could anyone not walk on eggshells around them? They fell into two extreme categories: The lazy drunk ones and the aggressive ones who you could never let your guard down around. Jasmine had seen too many movies portraying Indians in this fashion. She had never taken the time to get to know any, because she had her own preconceived notions... ones that had been implanted in her at a young age from her racist parents and grandparents. And, truth be told, in all her years of teaching she could count on a single hand how many natives she had taught... still living in an almost exclusively white community in the Maritimes. Sighing, she took the exit with dread. She soon got two surprises: one good, one bad.

The good was due to the construction being beyond anyone's control, the reservation had waived the toll for travelers. There were electronic signs flashing that no tolls were required and to drive right on through. 'That's shocking,' she thought, unable to resist the racist, preconceived thought, 'I've never known them not to be greedy'. The bad was that she heard the ping just a few miles down the road. In her haste to get out on the road, she had forgotten to check her gas. Now the car was letting her know it was time for a refuel and soon. 'Great, I hope I'm not stuck out here.' She sighed, her day not going as planned.

Another couple miles though showed an exit with a small reservation. The sign showed services available including gas, a store, hotel, and casino. Well, she had no intention of hanging around, but the store offered a chance for something to drink and she did need fuel.

PIPER WHITEDOVE & JASMINE WALKER

Piper had just come back to the store. No one was found that she thought would be willing to play sub slut, and so JJ had indeed got a call. It took the edge off, but underneath she was still simmering. Taking back over from Peyton, she had been behind the counter a couple hours when the lady walked in. Pretentious little white woman, Piper could tell instantly... a look of vaguely veiled disgust on her face.

Piper herself was not biased. She let anyone of any race or sex have a good time as long as they were willing to understand who was in charge. But she did hate when others had an air of superiority towards someone else, especially using the race card. Her people were not worse than anyone else, but neither were they better. You could be proud of your heritage and not be an ass like some of her kind were. This white lady reeked of snobbery. Christ, she was wearing five inch heels, a skirt, tight blouse and nylons... while driving through.

Still she ran a business and tried to be pleasant. "Hi, may I help you?"

Jasmine was surprised that this place offered a full service gas station. She thought those places were extinct. Since they obviously were not, she planned to take advantage. "Yes, I'm on pump 7. I need a fill up, and have someone check my oil and tires." She didn't know the first thing about her oil and tires, she just vaguely remembered that from her childhood when full stations were still plentiful.

'What an ass,' Piper thought, even as she smiled, "Absolutely, someone will be right out."

Jasmine wandered around the store, grabbed a couple snacks and a drink, and then waited, wishing they sold sex toys. Her pussy was still not satisfied by its near orgasm earlier today.

In a hurry, and tired of waiting, Jasmine handed her credit card and said, "Here, it has never taken more than sixty-five dollars to fill my car, so just ring me for these items and seventy-five dollars and I will be on my way. That should more than cover it. You may keep the rest as a tip."

'Wow, I'm so impressed,' thought Piper, 'a potential five plus dollar tip. She must think I'm some poor ignorant Indian who's just the hired help here. Hell, I could buy and sell her.' Well, she would play along. Maybe there would be an opportunity to embarrass her in her vanity. "I can't really do that ma'am. I have to wait until charges are final so there is no sense of impropriety." The bitch slid the card toward her anyway and told her to just hold it then until the charges were settled. So Piper took it while the bored lady stared out the window.

Piper happened to glance at the name, bored herself, and it glared back at her like an insult. Jasmine Winston! No Way! It couldn't be! What were the odds? It just didn't seem likely. Jasmine Winston, she knew from a friend, was the real name of Literotica writer Jasmine Walker... many of whose naughty tales she had read... especially the lesbian submission stories. Still, her curiosity was killing her and if it were true, it looked like the day just got more exciting. At the least there may be fireworks. She spotted Peyton lounging around at one of the diner tables. "Uh Peyton, could you come cover for me real quick?"

"I just worked a couple hours ago. You have to have me back now? This bites."

"Peyton, you worked three hours. I don't think it will kill you to help in the store that pays your bills too you know."

"I'm just kidding. Don't get your loincloth in a wad," she loved teasing Piper about her buckskin clothing. She was fond of leather too, but of the more conventional variety. She was a curious mix of old school Native and new age hip. Her clothes, usually a miniskirt and vest like blouse, looked like they came from a Harley Motorcycle shop. Ditto for her knee high boots. She eschewed the thigh high stockings Piper wore, because she figured what was the point. Her skirts were short enough anyway she didn't need anything extra to draw attention. Her hair was the same long thick black hair Piper had, but she loved keeping dyed streaks of red and blue in it. She had multiple piercing in her ears, one in her nose and one in her belly button. Also, there were the tats on her upper back, the tramp stamp, her ankles, and one on her right midriff. And though only those lucky enough to share them would know, her pussy even shared a difference. While Piper kept hers cleanly shaven at all times, Peyton, being the free spirited jokester she was, kept a strip in the shape of an arrow pointing toward her wetness. "Hey I don't want anyone to lose their way when I need them there," she often said.

"OK, I'll be right back," Piper said as she made her way to the store office. She got out her cell and quickly called Jeff. "Please pick up," she said to herself as it rang. To herself.

"Hello"

"Hi Jeff, it's me."

Hey, how's my favorite cousin?"

"I wish you wouldn't call me that!"

If they were related at all, it was distant, and it was unlikely anyway, since they both claimed different tribes. It was annoying. Jeff knew it annoyed her, but he meant no harm and loved to tease her. "Hey you don't seem to mind being a kissing cousin too much. Among kissing other things."

"That was a weak moment and you know it. Anyway, there's a reason I called. Do you remember that writer you had the falling out with? What was her name again? And would you happen to know what she looked like?"

For once, Jeff got quiet. He had met an erotic author online. She was a very good writer, and after he offered a couple plot lines, she had even had him collaborate on a couple stories. They seemed to get good ratings on the website she wrote for, and for a few stories, they seemed to have a pretty good, part time, pseudo partnership. He liked helping her and giving her ideas, but he didn't want any credit from her. He preferred being behind the scenes. Then the falling out came. He had suggested a character with a partial Native ancestry. She had rejected it without even hearing his idea, even though she had written many stories with black dominant characters .She said Indians were unattractive. Obviously, this did not go over well with him. She did not know, of course, of his ancestry, but he didn't care. He knew ugly Indians himself, but also many beautiful ones (Angela Jolie, Jessica Biel, Megan Fox, for example... plus the greatest actor there is: Johnny Depp). It was like a slap in the face. On top of that, he didn't know if he was more upset over her remarks, or that she dismissed him without hearing his idea. Hadn't he helped her before? And didn't those stories go over well? Sure she had written good stories before; that was what caused him to write her. But none of their co-written stories were duds either. All got high marks. So there was quite the falling out.

After the initial encounter with Piper, he kept in touch. Sure she was a good fuck, but they became good friends also. They kept in touch and he visited when he could. The girls felt family to him even though they obviously were not, being of different tribes. He loved to tease her about that. He had told her once of the disagreement with the writer as she had read all the stories too, imagining she was the Bree character from the Lesbian MILF Seductress series. So when she called asking the name, he knew something was up. "Why do you want to know? What's going on?"

"I have a customer in here. She's a bit bitchy, actually. She gave me her credit card to hold while Joe was filling her car. She seems to be impatient she can't even wait until he's done and she can get out of here." Her name is Jasmine Winston."

Jeff was silent a moment before asking, "Do you think it's her?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm calling. That's her name, isn't it?"

"Yeah, at least the name she told me one time was her real last name."

"What does she look like?" Piper asked.

"Well, I've never met her in person. Talked on the phone a couple times. We both had burner phones. You know, anonymity of the internet and all that. The only photo I've seen is on her profile page, and there's no face on that. She appears slightly built. Her hair is touching her shoulder, so seeing that much, her hair is medium length, I'd say maybe light brownish. Smallish tits, but nice looking. And her legs showing under that dress are really nice. Hang on, I can send you the picture."

Piper waited until the ping went off on her phone. Looking at the picture, she gasped.

"What is it?" Jeff asked.

"Oh my, I think it maybe it is her. She's even wearing that same dress," Piper said just above a whisper. "What should we do?"

"If it is her, I could think of some things, but we'd best be sure before we start," Jeff said, thinking this was too good to be true.

"OK, how do I do that?"

"Simple. You ask her."

"What! Are you fucking crazy?"

"Hang on. It's not that blunt. Listen, here's what we do. You start with some vague comments about reading online. Let it progress to erotica is your favorite. If you get a reaction, and if it's her you will, she's pretty secretive about her online activities, her friends and family don't know or so she's told me in our exchanges, so she'll probably snap her head right around like she's busted, and she will be, because you will then say 'Wouldn't you agree Mrs. Winston, or should I call you Silky? That's her pen name. Well, silkstockingslover to be precise. If you get that reaction out of her, then it's her. And if it's her, then you may proceed."