Make It Taboo, Girl

by Jones, EB

  Will I wake her now? Is it possible to have her completely, fuck her deep, and not trigger her awareness, like a light switch? And what happens when the harsh light of what I'm doing reaches her mind, finds its way into words on her tongue? What then?

  You can't stop now. Not unless she asks you to.

  It's time. In my mind I hear something haunting, like organ music in an open hall, and I hear her voice, high above the low tones, calling me to her. Is it possible to enter another person's dream, to meet them in a place outside, some neutral ground? That's when I see her – an image of her not as she is, but on a bed made of stone, spread out like a sacrifice, her wrists and ankles spread and bound. She calls to me, her eyes black as pits of coal. “Fuck me,” she commands. “Fuck my tight little virgin pussy raw.”

  The Bad Man in me says to take her, take her now. The other man inside me looks on in silence, then turns his head away.

  I know what I'm doing, the depths to which I'm sinking. I imagine I feel the heat of a flame that's too close. And then the picture disappears, and I'm back in the bedroom. I feel sweat on my forehead. She's spread out in front of me. Ready for this final act, this penetration. And I'm beyond choice. It's time to act.

  I approach gently, quietly, until I'm kneeling between her legs. As I look down in the moonlight, I see her form, still sleeping, perfect in its balance. I reach down and pull aside her thong, a flimsy barrier – the final act before I go there.

  I put my cock at the opening of her pussy. I don't know how long I'll be able to last now. Will I lose all self-control after making myself wait during those agonizing moments of torture, pleasuring her while I smoldered with my own desire?

  I begin to push it in. She's tight. And maybe she's still a virgin. You ever thought about that?

  She gasps and lets out a loud moan, the loudest sound she's made thus far. I've gone too far to stop now (Unless she wakes up and tells me to stop. I cling to a shred of my decency). I put both hands around her hips and pump my cock in and out of her tight slit. The muscles of her pussy constrict my flesh as I stretch her out. Her own breathing deepens, and I hear her let out small whimpers of pleasure as my cock slides in and out of her tight hole.

  The bed creaks quietly, and I forget who I am.

  “Ahh, yes,” she whispers. Her eyes are still closed. She knows she's being fucked, knows that her pussy is getting filled up with a thick cock, but she's still asleep.

  Must be a hell of a dream for her.

  I want to make her come. I take a finger and reach down between her legs, to her clit. Her legs are moving back and forth now, in time with my thrusts.

  “Mmm, yes, please, that feels so good,” she says softly, moving her head from side to side, feeling her dream consume her.

  I move my finger in small, rapid strokes on her clit, watching her arousal build. I hear her whimper grow louder, and then she lets out a short, sharp 'ahhh.' Her back arches up off the bed, and I feel the spasm of her pussy muscles, trying their best to milk my cock of all its cum, trying to release me. She moans and shudders with her orgasm.

  You can't come inside her. You have to pull out.

  But it’s too late. I’ve lost control. I look down with disbelief as I fill her little pussy with my cum. Spasming inside her, letting my hot load coat her insides. She’s so young, barely legal. And my friend’s daughter to boot. I can’t believe I’ve just pumped her insides full.

  I take one last look at her beauty, the way she's lying on the bed, her legs still spread out from our sex. The very beginning of a cream pie as my cum begins to ooze out from between her legs.

  As I walk out of her room, I think I hear her say 'thanks', but I can't be sure. Probably just the wind – it is an old house, after all.

  ***

  Breakfast. I can't say I was looking forward to it. At first I try to pretend it was all dream. Which it was, for her. But I know better.

  Still, I put on a good act. I fill the kitchen with the smells of thick slabs of frying bacon and eggs. Mark thanks me for putting them both up for the night, says they'll have to repay the favor. When he says that, I feel my act of treason twist like a knife in my chest, but I smile and pretend that everything is normal.

  And I fucked your daughter's tight little pussy, did I mention that? Do you want to hear how she moaned when she came? Of course I don't say those things out loud. But they echo in my own head. It's a good thing I don't believe in Hell.

  They get ready to leave. Mark goes outside to start the car, and Steph lingers for a moment at the door. She turns to me and takes one of my hands in hers and looks up into my eyes. She smiles for a moment, and –

  Is that recognition, in her eyes? Did she –

  “Next time, don’t be afraid to wake me,” she whispers. “And thank you. I needed that.” She kisses me quickly on the cheek and turns, waving as she walks to the car where her dad is waiting in the driver's seat. I wave back, then watch them back out of the driveway.

  I remember that it's Saturday – I'm going to go help work the line at the soup kitchen this morning. And maybe help an old woman cross the street, if the opportunity arises, for good measure. The thoughts cheer me up.

  And if there is a Hell, there sure is more than one way down, isn't there?