Big Bangin' Box Set

by Raven Watyrs

  “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” I yell out as pleasure shoots from my dick all the way through my core. I spit on her ass and shove my thumb into her asshole again as I pound into her pussy, stretching out her little brown starfish so it can take my 9-inch, thick cock.

  She emits a cry of pain that morphs into moans of pleasure, and pushes her ass back at me in rhythm with my thrusting hips and hand. My balls are tightening and I can feel my orgasm building in my cock. I slam deep into her pussy one last time before pulling my wet, slippery dick out of her juicy cunt and press bulbous head against her virgin asshole.

  “Does my little Princess need her ass fucked?” I ask her, teasing her puckered hole with circular motions. “Has she been a bad girl for tricking her Daddy??

  “Fuck yes! Fuck my ass, Daddy! Punish me! Fuck me hard and rough!” She’s practically out of her head with horniness, pussy absolutely dripping.

  “Daddy’s going to punish his little slut then,” I warn her.

  “Yes, Daddy.” She rubs her clit furiously as I start to push my cock into her ass, millimetre by millimetre. She clenches her jaw and squeezes her eyes shut as I progress, clearly in pain, but unwilling to give up. Her little asshole is so tight it feels like a vice around the head of my cock. An incredible, fuckable vice.

  “Oh yeah,” I groan as I push in to the tight little hole, further still. “Fuck yes.”

  “Oh god,” she says as she grasps at the cheap white sheets. “Fuck, that burns.”

  “Do you want me to stop?” I ask her, paused half way inside her.

  “No, don’t stop, Daddy, “she begs me. Tears threaten to breach the corner of her eyes as she takes my massive length all the way in. “Don’t stop. I want to feel you cum in my ass.”

  “Breathe, Princess,” I sooth, leaning forward and massaging her huge hanging tits, rolling her nipples between my fingers. “Breathe and relax.”

  She relaxes and breathes and rubs at her clit again, moaning and writhing as I push my cock all the way inside her tight asshole. “That’s right, baby girl. That’s right.”

  “Oh god… Oh my god!” she starts wailing as I pull out a little, then push back up her ass again, stretching her open wide. “Holy fuck, that feels so fucking amazing!”

  I grunt and groan as I start fucking her ass, getting faster and faster with each thrust of my hips. Madison’s wails increase in volume and frequency as my cock plows into her, my balls slapping loudly against her wet slit and swollen clit.

  The orgasm I managed to stave off this entire time starts building momentum in my balls. They tighten and constrict as I fuck her asshole, each pounding bringing me closer and closer to filling her ass with my salty, hot load.

  “Oh god!” I cry. “Oh god, I’m going to cum!”

  “I’m going to cum too!” she screams and bucks her ass as her fingers work her clit and my cock works her hole. “Fuck! I’m cumming!” she cries, and her asshole constricts around my throbbing cock, contracting and spasming in time with her pulsing, contracting pussy.

  “FUCK!” I bellow as waves of pleasure explode through my body and cum spurts out of me deep into her ass, filling her with creamy, hot jizz.

  Exhausted, we collapse on the rickety bed, covered in sweat, our bodies slick and shiny. After a moment or three, I slide off her back, my half-soft cock eases out of her fucked-raw ass, and I flop onto my back, breathing heavily and feeling spent.

  I roll my head to the side to look at her to find she’s already looking at me. Her beautiful blue almond-shaped eyes are sparkling.

  “That was incredible,” she says from across the pillow. “Better than I could have imagined!”

  I smile at her. “Couldn’t have said it better myself, actually.”

  She props herself up on her elbows and shoots me a sheepish look. “I’m sorry for tricking you with the pictures, Jesse. I just didn’t think you’d be able to think of me in… in that way if I didn’t.”

  “I think you’ve made up for any dishonesty, Madison.” I smile at her with a raised brow.

  She giggles, and then looks at me more seriously. “I wasn’t kidding about wanting to be with you, you know. I’ve been in love with you since you walked into our living room eight years ago.”

  I reach across and run and finger down her cheek. “I’m glad you sent those pictures. And I’m glad you came to see me. I’ve wanted to fuck you for a long time too, but now I’m thinking there might be something more for us. You know, I’m getting out of here in six months, Princess.”

  Her eyes light up. “Are you saying that we can be together? Oh god, tell me that’s what you’re saying!”

  I pull her close to me and caress the length of her soft body with my finger, thinking of all the letters she sent me, all the nice things she said. All the while I thought it was Stephanie sending them, when actually it was Madison who cared. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I was never really in love with you mother. She was just a good lay. But you? You’re more than that. You’re an amazing lay and a good person too.”

  “I promise to make you happy, Jesse,” she says delightedly. “I promise!”

  “So do I, Madison. But first, we’ve still got 23 hours to kill in this trailer.”

  ***

  Six months later, on the day of my release, Madison is waiting to pick me up outside the gates of the prison.

  “Finally!” she squeals, running towards me, arm spread. She leaps into my arms, hugging me tight and planting a wet kiss on my lips.

  “How’s my Princess doing?” I laugh and spin her around.

  “Better now,” she says through kisses. “Come on, let’s go home. I’ve filled the fridge with all your favourite food!”

  I grin at her, overjoyed to be out of the clink and in her arms. We’re getting married next month and neither of us could be happier.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Sarah,” Charles pulled open his front door with a stressed, but grateful look on his face. “Thanks for coming. I know it’s late. I really appreciate it.”

  “It’s no problem,” I told him, stepping through the door to the two story, three bedroom rental home he moved into last year after he and my mom split up. I shook the raindrops off of my umbrella before setting it in the corner to dry. “What’s the big emergency, anyway?”

  He shrugged a heavy overcoat onto his broad shoulders and searched the side table in the hallway for his car keys. “You wouldn’t believe it,” he said as he shuffled envelopes and junk mail until he finally found the keys. “A water pipe burst and the kitchen is flooding, which means soon the dining area will be flooded too.”

  “Holy shit. That’s no good.” I hung my raincoat in the hall closet and turned to face my ex-step-father. Charles owned a casual dining restaurant in midtown. Nothing too fancy, but it had been doing very well since he’d bought it five years previous. It was his passion, that little restaurant, and the poor man almost lost it when my bitch of a mother divorced him last year.

  “It’s goddamned nightmare,” he said as he raked a hand through his thick dark hair, making my knees weak with his suave and intense masculinity. “And of course it happens right when I was about to—” He stopped mid-sentence and glanced at me sideways before clearing his throat. “Right when I was about to, uh… go to bed. Yeah, I was about to go to sleep when the phone rang. At eleven-thirty at night - doesn’t it always happen like that? Anyway, thankfully my sous chef is there. He said the water’s rising at about an inch every ten minutes.”

  “They haven’t shut off the water yet?” I asked, but really I was wondering what it was he’d really been doing before he got the call. His nervous side-glance looked a little loaded just then, and my loins light up when Charles does anything loaded around me. I knew it was wrong - so wrong, but I was more than a little obsessed with my stepfather. Ex-step-father, I mean.

  “They’ve found the valve, but it’s stuck, apparently.” He ran a hand down his face, rubbing at his square jaw before turning and grabbing his wallet
of the table. “Anyway, I’ve got to get down there and see what I can do. Max is upstairs in bed, sound asleep. He’s been sleeping like a log lately, so I’m sure he won’t need anything. There are leftovers in the fridge if you want them. Help yourself.” He patted at his pockets to ensure he had what he needed. “I’m not sure how late I’ll be - who knows what I’ll be walking into when I get there. I threw some sheets on the guest bed for you, but didn’t have time to make it. Sorry about that.”

  I raised a hand. “Don’t worry about. All good. Go deal with the crisis, I’ll be here with Max.”

  He pulled open the door and stepped into the wet and dreary night. Turning, he looked at me with those golden hazel eyes of his. “You’re a lifesaver, Sarah. Thanks for always being here for us.”

  “It’s nothing,” I said with a smile. “Really, it’s my pleasure.” Which it truly was, since I had a naughty little habit of pleasuring myself on Charles’ bed when I baby-sat for him.

  “Thanks again, honey. I’ll be back,” he yelled as he ran through the rain towards his car. I watched as he stooped to fit his six foot three inch frame into the crappy little Toyota hatchback he bought after mom cleaned him out in the divorce. Every time I had to watch him get into that shitty old car, my heart broke for the poor guy. Another kind and generous man fallen victim to my mother’s greedy, nasty ways.

  Charles had been perfect for my mom when they first met. He earned a ton of money as a lawyer and she like to spend a lot of money as a gold digger. They were married three years ago, when I was seventeen. Charles had a son, Max, who had been two years old when his dad married my mom. Max’s mother had died in childbirth, which was incredibly tragic, but I had wanted to be a mother for as long as I could remember and I was immediately attached to the little boy, who was sweet and loving and adorable. I loved looking after Max, playing with cars and building towers. Charles loved how much I loved his little boy too. Sometimes I’d catch him watching me with him.

  Things were okay between mom and Charles for about a year, but when Charles decided in a mid-life crisis to quit his legal career and chase his dreams of running his own restaurant, Mom freaked out and divorced him, screaming about how he changed the terms of their relationship. That was always one of her favourite lines to use when the money train went off the rails and dried up. The ‘terms of the relationship have changed’. I’d heard her say that to more men than I have fingers on my hands.

  Anyway, she was always a resourceful woman, in that respect. Within six months, she was already living on a yacht in the Mediterranean with her new fiancé (some euro-trash investment banker ten years younger than her), completely uninterested in her former life. It was a pattern I’d known all too well, but thankfully for both of us, this time around I was old enough not to be dragged along with her.

  After mom left with an assload of his money, Charles downsized from the six-bedroom mansion on the west side to the modest two-level home in the valley. I got my own apartment on the other side of the city, close to the college I was attending. I almost never heard from mom anymore, which was fine with me - I was more than ready to finally be rid of her.

  But I did keep in close touch with Charles and Max. In the short time he was my step-dad, Charles had been great. Kind and supportive, but also a strict. I had a thing for strict men. They send delicious chills up my spine, and Charles’ need for order and control made me pulse with need. Charles hated it when rules were broken and wasn’t afraid to lay down the law when necessary, and I loved being ordered around by him. Sometimes I’d break little rules, just to see what he’d do. Nothing too serious, of course. I’d sort the recycling wrong or forget to clean the bathrooms how he liked them done. I’d do it on purpose and I made sure he noticed, because I really liked it when he was stern with me.

  A lot.

  It totally made me wet when I got a dressing down from him. I’d sit there on the couch in front of him while he lectured and chastised me for not following his house rules, then I’d scurry off to my bedroom and masturbate furiously, coming over and over, screaming his name into my pillow as I pictured him taking me and fucking me as hard as he wanted.

  But now that I was practically Max’s nanny, I didn’t have to scurry off anywhere. Whenever I babysat little Max and he went down for his nap, I’d bee-line it to Charles’ room, where I’d undress and stretch out on his bed, spread my legs wide and pretend he was standing over me, giving me orders and making me his little sex slave.

  What made it even more naughty was that when I started looking after Max, Charles told me that his bedroom was off-limits. He never said why, he just said I wasn’t allowed in there. Of course, the second he left the house, I immediately went in and looked around. It was too tempting not to! But, in all the times I snuck in there to finger myself or hump my step-dad’s pillow or something, I never saw anything weird. I’m not sure what he was trying to hide, but the fact that I was breaking one of his rules so overtly did make my masturbation sessions that much more titillating. Thinking about how he’d punish me was enough to make me gush all over myself, and the comforter.

  It also didn’t hurt that Charles was basically a cross between a navy seal and a male model. I know the fact that I’m obsessed with him was kind of gross considering he was used to be my step-dad and all, but he was definitely the hottest man I’d ever seen in my entire life. A face that would rival any movie star with a chiselled jaw and high cheekbones underneath golden, hazel eyes. He had broad shoulders and muscled arms, rippling pecs and washboard abs. His legs were as strong as tree trunks and he had hands the size of dinner plates. He more or less made me want to rip my clothes off and beg him to fill me up with his seed. I wanted nothing more than to have this perfect specimen’s baby. To be his forever.

  But that would never happen. Obviously.

  The house was silent and dark as I made my way in from the small foyer. I yawned as I wandered into the kitchen in search of a little snack before heading up to the guest room. With a yank, I opened the fridge door, light spilling into the dark kitchen. I leaned in, but another yawn threatened and I decided to check on little Max before heading to bed. I was already wearing my pyjamas. When Charles had called earlier, I had been just about to climb into bed. He’d been so frantic about the restaurant that just I threw my coat on over my PJs and flew out the door.

  I climbed the stairs and at the top of the landing and could see a dim light coming from underneath Max’s door. His nightlight. I pushed the door open a crack and saw the little boy sleeping peacefully in his big-boy bed, completely unaware of the world. Smiling, I closed the door before making my way around the corner and down the hall to the guest bedroom.

  As I rounded the bend, I noticed the master bedroom light was still on which was strange. One of Charles’ house rules is always turn off the lights when you leave a room - always. He must have left it on in his rush to get to the restaurant. I paused at his door to flick the switch off when something on the ground caught my eye. I wasn’t trying to snoop - I’m no snooper. I chronic masturbator, maybe, but I don’t look through his things when I’m in there.

  But, there it was. Just sitting there on the carpet by the door, and I couldn’t tear my eyes off of it.

  A leather riding crop.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I stared at the short black leather whip juxtaposed on the creamy, white carpet of Charles’ bedroom floor, my brow furrowed in confusion. Why did he have a horseback-riding crop? He didn’t have a horse. He wasn’t a rider. I’d never even heard him talk about horses.

  Curious and confused, I bent down to pick up the out-of-place item. Not being an especially graceful person, I wobbled a bit and lost my balance, accidentally bumping open the bedroom door with my ass.

  “Shit,” I muttered and regained my bearings. I stood and looked into the bedroom for a spot to put the strange little whip. The room looked as it always did. A large, kind-sized bed sat in the middle of the far wall, with a couple bedside tables bookending
it. A dresser and a walk-in closet were to the left and an ensuite bathroom to the right. He had hung a large mirror over a sizeable chest of drawers opposite the bed, and a laundry hamper sat in the corner. The only thing that looked out of place was a red Rubbermaid storage bin sitting on the bed, its lid half popped off.

  Strange, I thought to myself. I’d never seen that in here before.

  Eyeing the bin as I tiptoed into the room, I gently placed the riding crop on the chest of drawers underneath the mirror. I drummed my fingertips on the wooden surface as I stared at the bin’s reflection in the mirror. I knew it was wrong to snoop through Charles’ stuff. It’s one thing to rub one out on his bed, but I’d never snooped through his things before. But the strange discovery of the riding crop had made me very curious, and unfortunately, curiosity always got the better of me.

  With a glance back at the door to make sure little Max hadn’t wandered down after a bad dream, I snuck across the room, popped off the lid of the bin placing it beside the bed. I peered inside. If someone were watching me, they would have seen my eyes go as wide as saucers, because that Rubbermaid bin was stuffed to the brim with hardcore BDSM gear. Stunned and with my jaw gaping open, I pulled out ankle and wrist restraints, collars with spikes on them, butt plugs and anal beads, floggers of varying sizes and colours, paddles in varying sizes and colours, nipple clamps and ball-gags, and vibrators and dildos galore. Swallowing heavily, I picked up a massive, 10-inch glass dildo with one hand and a matching glass butt-plug, bigger than my fist, with the other.

  Suddenly, I realized I was feeling a lot less tired.

  Double-checking the door, I scrambled up on the bed and spread the various tools and instruments around me. I had no idea Charles was into stuff like this, but it was fucking hot as hell to find his little box of treasures. I could feel heat flood my groin as I sat cross-legged on the bedspread and looked at the items spread around me. I picked up a nipple clamp and tested it out on my finger. It bit into my fingertip, it’s little teeth digging into the soft little pad of flesh sending shivers of excitement up my arms and into my core. I could only imagine what that would feel like on a sensitive, soft little nipple.