I blinked, staring at the kitchen counter where my stepsisters, Emma and Lila, were elbow-deep in brownie batter, their laughter bubbling like the chocolate melting in the bowl. Same slutty outfits as yesterday—tiny crop tops that barely contained their perky C-cups, shorts so short they rode up like they were allergic to fabric. They chatted away, oblivious, scooping dough onto sheets, the oven's preheat hum drowning out my footsteps. This can't be real, I thought, pinching my arm—nothing. No pain, no wake-up jolt. Just the surreal haze of a dream so vivid I could taste the vanilla on the air. And yeah, maybe I'd snapped my fingers without meaning to, but suddenly their tops were gone, those perfect tits bouncing free, nipples hardening in the warm kitchen breeze like they knew I was watching.Emma, the older one with her sun-kissed blonde waves and freckles dusting her shoulders, leaned over to grab more flour, her breasts swaying like ripe fruit, pink tips begging for a taste. Lila, the brunette firecracker with curves that could stop traffic, licked batter off her finger, her dark eyes half-lidded in that innocent-yet-not way. I stepped closer, heart slamming, and reached out—my hand cupping Emma's left tit, thumb circling the nipple slow and firm. She gasped, arching into it without breaking stride, murmuring to Lila, "God, this batter's so thick... feels good on my tongue." Lila nodded, oblivious, her own breasts heaving as she mixed, but I leaned in, tongue flicking Emma's peak—salty-sweet skin, the nipple pebbling harder under my swirl. She moaned softly, "Mmm, yeah... stuff my face with more," but her eyes stayed on the bowl, like I was a ghost haunting her pleasure.Holy shit. The power surged through me like electricity—dream logic on steroids. I snapped again, and poof: sexy onesies materialized, pink and sheer, hugging their bodies like liquid latex, the fabric translucent enough to show every curve, every tan line. Then the oil—popping into my hand like magic, warm and slick, coconut-scented. I poured it over Emma's shoulders first, watching it cascade down her cleavage, glistening her tits like they'd been dipped in sin. My hands followed, rubbing it in—oily palms gliding over her breasts, pinching those slick nipples until she whimpered, her mixing spoon trembling. Lila got the same treatment, oil trailing down her spine to pool in the dimples above her ass, my fingers kneading the globes, spreading her cheeks to tease that tight rosebud. "Feels... so good," Lila breathed, grinding back into my touch without seeing me, her voice husky as she "accidentally" bumped Emma, their oiled bodies brushing in a spark of friction.They kept baking—or pretending to—chatting about "stuffing their faces" with the brownies, but the double entendre hung thick, their voices breathy, hips shifting like they felt the ghost hands everywhere. I couldn't hold back anymore; the dream pulsed with need, my cock throbbing hard against my jeans. Snap—clothes gone, naked and ready. I positioned Emma bent over the counter, her ass arched high, oiled cheeks spreading to bare her shaved pussy—lips pouting pink and dripping, clit throbbing like a beacon. I thrust in without mercy—the stretch sublime, filling her to the hilt with one plunge, her walls clenching around me like velvet flames. "Oh fuck... yes!" she cried, but to Lila: "This batter's making me so wet—want to taste?" I pounded her relentless, hips slamming in piston fury, each deep drive grinding her G-spot, the wet schlick of our union mingling with the oven's hum, her tits slapping the counter, oil flying in glistening arcs.Lila turned, eyes glazing as she watched— or felt?—the invisible fuck, her hand delving her own pussy, fingers plunging in slick harmony. "Stuff me too," she moaned, and I snapped us to the floor—Lila on all fours now, ass up beside Emma's, my cock switching holes in a dream's seamless flow, plunging Lila's tight heat with the same brutal rhythm. They moaned in unison, bodies rocking back to meet me, oiled skin slapping oiled skin as I railed one, then the other—fingers in the free pussy, thumb on clits, the kitchen a haze of cries and schlicks. Emma came first—body quaking, pussy spasming in milky ecstasy around my fingers, squirting in hot floods that soaked the tiles. Lila followed, her walls clenching my cock in velvet pulses, sobbing "More... stuff my face—my holes!" as she shattered, juices mingling with the batter spill.The dream peaked in a frenzy—me on the counter now, them climbing up, oiled bodies straddling me in a tangle of limbs and lust. Emma ground her pussy on my face, smothering me in her slick heat—tongue lashing her clit as she rode my mouth, tits bouncing hypnotic above; Lila sank onto my cock in cowgirl's rush, riding hard—hips snapping in sinuous circles, her moans devolving into pleas muffled against Emma's breasts. They kissed then—tongues tangling sloppy over me, hands roaming each other's oiled curves, pinching nipples and fingering asses as I thrust up into Lila, lapped Emma relentless. The coil snapped for all—Lila's pussy spasming around my cock, squirting in creamy waves that soaked my abs; Emma flooding my mouth in hot nectar, body bowing; me erupting deep inside Lila, hot jets painting her walls, spilling out in pearly trails as they milked me dry.We collapsed in a sweaty, oiled heap on the kitchen floor, breaths syncing amid the rumpled onesies and batter bowls, their bodies a glowing ruin—curves flushed and freckled, my hands roaming possessive over tits and asses. Emma nuzzled my neck, "Best dream bake ever." Lila laughed, throaty and sated, nipping my earlobe. "Wake up? Nah—snap for round two." In the hazy kitchen of my mind, with parents oblivious downstairs, the invisibility wasn't a curse—it was conquest, one snapping command, one shattering fill at a time.
