Massively Taboo 50

by Izzy Slam

  “Fuck me sideways, Lilly. You’re are the sexiest woman I ever laid eyes on. And I laid eyes on a lot of women in my life.”

  I smile at him, and he steps forward to brush his thumbs over my erect tissue. I hiss and the heat builds between my legs.

  “I’ve cum plenty of times in that mouth and ass of yours this week. Now it’s time for me to claim that virgin pussy.”

  I bite into my lip and nod my head.

  “Get over here and undress your daddy then.”

  Feeling my body tremble from head to toe, I walk to him and unbutton his shirt. His chest is dusted with gray and black hairs, and I run my fingers through them, listening to him grumble in pleasure.

  I then wrap my fingers around his cock and pump up and down several times, his warm pre-cum oozing out into the palm of my hand.

  “Oooh, yeah, baby…”

  I undo his belt and let his pants fall to the floor, and he kicks everything aside—shoes, pants, shirt—so that the both of us are completely unclothed and ready to consummate. He picks me up and carries me to our king-size bed, laying me down and getting on top of me. I can feel his erection press between my legs, but his kiss takes over every thought I have right now.

  I wrap my ankles around his waist and grind my pussy over his shaft, feeling my clit throb from needing to cum.

  “Dammit, baby. If I fuck you right now, I won’t last long. I need you to suck me off first.”

  He leans down and swipes his tongue along my tender buds, and my flesh tingles. “Mm, I want your cock in my mouth, daddy.”

  He growls and lies down next to me, instructing me to straddle him in a sixty-nine position. I’ve never done anything that kinky, but it seems to be pretty easy.

  “Bring that pussy over here,” he groans, cupping my ass as I lower my head to his cock.

  I feel his tongue lick me right away as he gropes my round bottom, and the moment I sink down on his cock, I can tell he won’t last long. Using my fingers around his base, I pump quickly up and down while sucking on his crown.

  His breathing becomes ragged, and within minutes, the both of us are grinding our organs in each other’s mouths. He sucks softly on my clit while sticking a thick finger up my asshole, and when I sink my lips down to the root of his cock, both of us cum at once.

  His cock dances inside my mouth as my clit does the same. I fondle his balls as he finger-fucks my ass. And before I know it, my pussy is dripping with need.

  Without going soft, my husband grabs me by the hair and tugs me off his cock. He lifts me in the air and tosses me about, and the next thing I know, I’m on all fours, and he’s kneeling behind me, angling his cock to my entrance.

  “Did I mention I want you to have my babies?” he grits out.

  “What?” I say, twisting my head.

  He lets out a somewhat evil laugh as he pushes into my folds, stretching me open.

  “You heard me, baby. I want that belly to get nice and big.”

  I’m trying to process what he’s saying, but as his fingers press into the flesh of my hips, and I drop my head to the bed, he plunges deep into my cunt. There’s a slight sting, but it’s over in a split second. And the way his meaty shaft is filling me up, grinding in and out of my tight, virgin pussy, my mind and body goes to mush.

  “This is my home, and my pussy. You belong to me, so if I want you to get pregnant, that’s what’s gonna happen.”

  I love how he’s laying claim to me. I let out a moan of pleasure as he fucks me with fury, his balls slapping against my clit and bringing me close to the edge.

  “Oh fuck … that’s such a tight pussy…”

  “Fuck me harder, daddy!” I cry out, needing to feel his cock take me harder, faster.

  He growls and tugs on my hair, quickening his movements. His hips slam into mine, and right as I reach my climax, fluid pulses out of my pussy, making me scream in pleasure.

  When he slaps my ass with fury and roars, I know he’s dumping a load inside of me. My pussy welcomes it, and I even try to clench my walls tighter to hold in his seed. He slams in and out of me, eventually slowing his movements and letting his fist fall from my hair.

  He lies next to me and pulls me in a loving embrace, planting kisses along my back.

  “I love you, daddy.”

  He groans into my neck. “I love you, too, baby girl. For always.”

  Claimed by the Ex-Con

  ***

  It’s the wild, wild west, and after losing both parents in a fire, 18-year-old innocent Ella Logan doesn’t know much about the big, bad world. But she does know one thing: when she spots Dyer Wilson walking out of the jailhouse and eyeballing her from head to toe—all six feet of him, covered in big, bulging muscles and long, facial hair—she ought to scurry on home before it gets dark.

  But Dyer has other plans. He’s been locked behind bars for several years and is desperate for the touch of a woman. An innocent woman would be even better. And the second his gaze falls on the raven-haired beauty, he vows to make her his, no matter how “pushy” he has to get.

  ~Ella~

  “It’s starting to get dark. Do you need me to walk home with you?” Annie asks as we leave Milo’s Tavern.

  “Then who will walk you home?” I reply with a smile.

  Normally, it’s still light outside when we finish dinner, or whatever fun afternoon activity we get involved with. But it’s that time of year when the sun decides to call it quits earlier and earlier.

  “This is true,” she laughs.

  “It’s all right. It usually only takes me about fifteen minutes from here. I should be back before it gets pitch dark.”

  “All right, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I watch Annie disappear, her home just around the corner. I feel a little envious. Not that she lives closer to town than I do, but that she has a family waiting for her.

  Last year, my parents perished in a hotel fire as they celebrated their twentieth wedding anniversary, leaving me all alone, an only child. Because my daddy had built our humble cabin, and my mama had planted quite an extensive garden when I was younger, I’ve managed to take care of myself over the past eleven months. But there’s no doubt I feel the sting of being alone here and there.

  I got a part-time job working for Miss Bertram, a local seamstress, and it pays enough to provide me with the necessities as well as a couple of luxuries here and there—such as dinner out with Annie and a new dress every now and then.

  I do wish I had a man around, especially lately, as my libido has been nudging at me pretty hard. I find myself masturbating regularly, fantasizing about a man having his way with me, taking me like a woman ought to be taken. But it seems like all the once-eligible men around here are now married and no longer available.

  My nights consist of a quiet dinner, followed by a hot bath by candlelight. At least my daddy added on a bathroom with a full-size tub before he passed so that I can enjoy total submersion when I wash myself. It’s been inside that four-claw, cast-iron beast that I have explored nearly every inch of my body with my hands, aching for the touch of a man.

  As I head up the hill to my home, I pass the jailhouse, conveniently situated at the end of the long row of buildings along Main Street. It’s been a while since I’ve seen much activity around it. Our sheriff does a good job of keeping the riffraff under control. But just as I pass this evening, the door opens and out walks a man, accompanied by the sheriff. He’s larger than life, darn near the size of my former stallion. He’s got a full head of hair, but it appears neatly cropped. His thick arms are dusted with dark strands, and his beard goes all the way to his chest, pointing to a “V” that makes him look a little sinister.

  “You did the crime, but you done the time, Dyer. It’s been a real pleasure having you around, but I don’t ever wanna see your ass in my cell again, ya hear?”

  The sheriff slaps him on the back and turns around, walks back inside, leaving Dyer all alone on the porch of the jailhouse.

&n
bsp; Dyer. His name is familiar. And as I stand there staring at him, I remember who he is. Dyer Wilson. He was arrested several years ago, charged with multiple accounts of theft. At the time, he had a history of taking things that weren’t his to take. I never saw him before the arrest. He wasn’t a local around here, just visiting from some place in Montana. Because believe me, if I had seen him, I would definitely remember that. Good lord, any woman would.

  And right now, as he clods his big boots down the steps and sees me staring at him, giving my body a full sweep even though I’m covered from neck to toe in a peach colored dress, I realize he’s now a free man.

  And I have to walk home. Alone. As the sun sets.

  Wonderful.

  ~Dyer~

  It’s been almost two years since I seen the light of day. I can’t believe the sheriff wouldn’t release me while the damn sun was still shining. Now I’m forced to find a place to hunker down for the night, then hope I can find a little work for a few days. Just enough to buy a horse so I can ride on out of here and find a nice little town to settle down in. Hopefully, a town where everyone doesn’t know about my history of fuck-ups. A town where I can meet a nice woman who’ll forgive me for my past mistakes.

  I wish I hadn’t done what I did, but I try to live with the motto of no regrets. My past—all twenty-seven years of it—shaped me into the man I am. And while there were nights I thought I’d rot from the inside out as I sat in that fucking cell, I made it out alive.

  From here on out, I vow to avoid taking things that don’t belong to me. From this day forward, I will only take what does belong to me.

  The sheriff pops me on the back before releasing me on my own. And my breath catches in my fucking throat the moment I lay eyes on the beauty that stands in front of me. She’s dressed casually in a long, flowing dress, but there’s something about the way her face glows in the setting sun that makes me take pause. Her dark hair shimmers in the dying rays, and I can see the blue of her eyes all the way from where I’m standing.

  She seems to be caught off guard, but I can’t help but look her up and down and then back again. I don’t know if I’m scaring her or not, but when I start walking down the steps to introduce myself, she darts her head away from me and scurries off. I watch her walk up the hill, towards a clearing in the woods, and she turns around once, picking up the pace when she can see that I’ve stepped down to the dirt road to keep an eye on her.

  Fucking hell, she is the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. And given the way my cock is swelling inside my pants, it definitely wants a little one-on-one time with her. I have to find out if she’s got a husband. Fuck, even if she does, I may have to persuade her to let me have a little sample. Just a little rub and tug while I lick her delicate pussy, which I’m sure tastes just as sweet as her angelic face looks.

  I can already tell that being good will have its challenges, especially if this thing of perfection lives here. Because I’ve already decided I’m sticking around for her. Yep. She belongs to me, and I’m going to take her.

  I glance across the street and see a man standing outside of the corner store, stuffing some tobacco in a pipe. Maybe he knows who she is. He sees me approaching him and offers a nod.

  “Evenin’, sir.”

  I have to assume he didn’t catch me leaving the jail. Not too many people call an ex-con by the name of “sir.”

  “Evenin’. Nice night for a smoke.”

  “Sure is. You got a pipe? I’ll share some.”

  “No. Thanks. I got a quick question. That woman that just passed by?”

  He glances up the road, just in time to see her heading through a clearing past the mill.

  “Yeah? What about her?”

  “Just wondering if you knew her name?”

  He gives me a curious look and I know I need to come up with something that another man could sympathize with. “Only reason I’m asking is because I’m looking for a place to settle down. Thought I might hire one of the local ladies to cook for me here and there. Single ladies, I might add.”

  His lips lift into a smirk. “I understand. Well, that right there is Ella Logan. Far as I know she’s single. Young, too. Lost her family last year in a fire down in Winslow. She might be happy to oblige a young man like yourself.”

  “Thank you, sir. Maybe I’ll catch up with her tomorrow.”

  Ella Logan. Just the inkling of a possibility that she’s single makes my dick throb. I head inside the store, and grateful the sheriff was nice enough to release me with a little money, I use a few pieces of change to buy a single rose. Then I head on up the road, following the same trail Ella took. Maybe I can find her house, clarify once and for all if she really is single.

  ~Ella~

  After I make it home, I get everything ready to draw a hot bath. I’m a little rattled by seeing Dyer, in more ways than one. First, I’ve never been around to watch a prisoner being released. Secondly, I wouldn’t have expected to feel an attraction to such a wild looking thing. Who knows how dangerous he is. And he’s just going to be … walking around, a free man.

  When I hear a knock at my door, not long after getting the bath water heated on the wood stove, I nearly jump out of my skin. I don’t ever have visitors this late. And when I pull open the door, I can’t believe it when I see Dyer Wilson standing there, towering over me like a wild beast. He’s also holding a rose.

  I throw a hand to my mouth and he seems a little surprised.

  “It’s okay, ma’am. I ain’t here to start trouble.” He passes me the rose, and I take it from him, wondering what it’s for.

  “Can I help you with something?”

  “I sure hope so. You’re Ella Logan, right?”

  Dear God. He knows my name? “Yes. How did you know?”

  His smile melts my reserves just a bit, making me feel warm all over.

  “I enquired with one of the locals and he happened to inform me that you might be in need of some help around here, what with your family being gone and all.”

  I chew on the inside of my lip and glance down at the flower, still covered in a small amount of dew along the petals’ edges. “I’m … not sure what you mean. Help with what exactly?”

  Dyer looks past me and slides his hands inside of his pockets. “May I come in, Ella?”

  I’m not sure if this is a good idea. But if Dyer Wilson’s only crime was theft, and he’s not a violent criminal, I ought not be afraid. Not like I have anything worth stealing anyway. If he is a violent criminal, my telling him to get lost won’t do any good.

  He’s here on a mission. Might as well let him spell it out.

  “Sure, come on in.”

  I step aside and he walks in, floating his gaze around the cabin. “You got a cozy place here, Ella. You really live all alone here?”

  I swallow down the nervousness and nod. “Yes, I really do. My Ma and Pa perished last year in a horrible accident. I don’t have any siblings to take care of. Blessing and a curse, I suppose.”

  “How old are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “I’m eighteen. But I’ll be nineteen next month.”

  He nods and eyes me up and down again. Heat ripples through me, and I shudder, lust suddenly flowing through my veins, unapologetically.

  “Sorry to hear about your family. Look, I won’t beat around the bush, Ella. My name’s Dyer Wilson. I just got out of jail. I ain’t never hurt anybody, but I did some thieving, got caught, paid my dues.”

  I gulp and nod, looking once again at the flower and lifting it to my nose to catch its sweet scent. Dyer takes a few steps toward me.

  “I need a place to stay, and in return, I’ll do whatever you need around here. I’ll hunt dinner—quail, deer, whatever you like—fix that bad spot in your fireplace …” Oh god, he noticed? “I’ll chop down trees and gather wood for the upcoming winter and use whatever’s left over to build you a bigger house.”

  I suck on my lower lip, not sure how to respond. His dark eye
s pierce through me as he waits for me to say something. “You want to stay here? In this tiny, little house?”

  “Yes, I do. Surely you could use a little help. Young thing like yourself living all alone without a man to do the hard labor must be a challenge.”

  I think about all I’ve had to manage. I used to have to tend to the horses, but I ended up selling them. Mr. White has to bring me my firewood in his wagon every few weeks, which costs a little extra. Managing the garden, bringing in water, canning food for the winter, keeping track of all the other things … yes, it’s a bit much at times. And it sure would be nice to have some quail with my stew.

  “I suppose I could let you stay for a little while. You’d have to sleep on the couch, though. I only got the one bedroom.”

  He licks his lips as they spread into a smile. “Ella, I’d sleep on the floor if I had to.”

  I giggle. “Very well, then.”

  Dyer looks at me with so much need as he slides a hand through his hair, and I feel a stirring between my legs.

  No. I can’t allow myself to even think those thoughts about him. I can’t be with an ex-convict. My parents would roll over in their graves if they knew I was even housing such a man in the home my daddy built.

  But if that’s the case, if I’m not supposed to be attracted to bad men, then why is my body betraying me right now?

  I put the rose he gave me in a small glass of water, then offer him the bath so he can clean up. I’m sure he hasn’t had a proper washing in a long time. While he’s in there, I go through my parent’s things—mostly clothes and other memorabilia that have been tucked away in a box. I find some clothes that look way too big for my daddy. I think they belonged to an uncle at some point. But they look like they’d fit Dyer.

  I knock on the door of the bathroom. “Dyer?”