Sleeping Cutie's Two Daddies (reluctant taboo sleep sex erotica)

by Riley Rourke

  Sleeping Cutie’s Two Daddies

  Taboo sleep virgin defloration and ménage erotica

  by Riley Rourke

  *

  Smashwords Edition

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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  Sleeping Cutie’s Two Daddies

  Whomp.

  Whomp-whomp.

  Slapping my required-unless-you’re-insane flip flops against the tile leading to the dorm bathroom always made me giggle a little. A lot of things do, I guess, but that’s one of my favorites. I tend to head down at weird times. I like to shower in the middle of the afternoon, right around lunch, whatever – when most of the girls who live in this place are off doing other things.

  Why? I’ve got a confession.

  I’m a virgin.

  Yeah. Seriously. I’m A twenty-one year old college girl who hasn’t ever even let a guy get to third base. And no, before you ask, I’m not some kind of weirdo. I just...well, I never found the right guy is all.

  Whomp.

  Laughing at the echo, I pulled open the door to the common shower room and put all my stuff on the faded blue shelf outside the stall. That’s one of the best parts of girls’ locker rooms, or bathrooms or whatever. We all get separate stalls. Guys? They get to stand in a big circle and shower while they all stare at each other’s dicks.

  Oh lord, Gia. You’re blushing because you thought of a bunch of naked guys soaping up. How ridiculous are you? There I stood, blushing, alone in a bathroom.

  Like I said. Virgin.

  I’m such a virgin it hurts sometimes. My girlfriends will watch porn or whatever and laugh about it, or talk about their boyfriends and the stuff they do when it’s supposed to be lights out and I just can’t handle it. I get all red-faced, giggly, and ridiculous. But that’s what happens! I can’t help it. We’ll go out for a beer, although I never drink any, since you’re not supposed to have any alcohol ‘even in your belly when you come back to campus’ here at St. Mary’s.

  See? That’s me. I’m such a dork I follow the rules that nobody ever follows. But hey, that’s just me. Anyway, the girls will get talking about all the stuff their boyfriends do to them and I do a whole lot of blushing. At the same time though, I feel things that I feel bad about, no matter how much everyone else talks about how good it feels.

  One time, I let Brad Preston stick his hand under my shirt, and the way his hand kind of rasped over the mauve fabric of my bra made my...er...nipples get really hard. I knew that happened when it was cold, or I got wet or whatever, but that was the first time someone else made me feel like that. And of course, as soon as he did, I made him quit and didn’t call him for a week.

  Back to the shower thing – why do I go in the middle of the afternoon when no one’s around? Well...

  That afternoon was just like the rest of them. I went to morning mass, finished my two Thursday morning history classes and started to have my feelings. I got out of my little shower shorts, and tight t-shirt I loved to wear, but only when I was pretty sure I was alone because it was really embarrassing the way guys looked at me when I wore it. Then, as soon as I figured the shower was hot enough and I stepped under the water, the drops hit me on the chest.

  Little beads of water ran down my between my breasts, past my navel and slid around my down there. I loved the way it felt. The wet trickles circling me, and how when I put one of my legs up on the soap dish, how the stream of water massaged me in my special place.

  Starting to make sense why I take my showers in the middle of the day?

  I closed my eyes and ran my hands through my hair. Heat from the water splashed all over my...well...what is there to be embarrassed about? The water caressed my belly, ran down between my legs, and tickled the sensitive nibs on my tits. I always liked that word. It makes me feel so naughty to say, or even think, but I like the way it sounds.

  “Does it feel good when I put my hands on your tits?” A soft, vague voice echoed in my mind. My fantasies never really had faces but they always had a voice, and it was always the same one. It’s weird, but in these little daydreams I have when I touch myself, I always hear my step-dad Ben’s voice. It’s even weirder that I don’t feel bad about it at all. Of all my dumb hang-ups, that doesn’t even register. It’s just a fantasy, you know? Ben would never actually do anything like what I imagine. Never in a million years.

  “Mine too,” I fantasized. Two men. That was enough to get me blushing again. Having a fantasy about my daddy? No big deal. But two guys? Yeah, that was crazy. “Does my little girl like her other dad’s hands on her tits? On her big, round, tits? These nipples are so hard, sweetie. So, so hard. Do you want me to suck on them?”

  The new voice belonged to my second step-dad. It’s a long story. My mom was pretty rough on herself when she was growing up. Of course, she did her ‘growing up’ after I was born. Ben was the first guy she hitched up with after my real dad left, and he did a lot of raising me while my mom did a lot of partying.

  “Yes,” I whispered into the empty shower. “Suck my tits, and...oh that’s good...”

  I slid my hand between my legs and stroked as I pinched my nipples.

  “You like how my fingers feel?” The second voice, which belonged to Drake, my mom’s current husband, asked in a whisper. “You want me to put them in you?”

  I bit my lip and slid my middle finger in my hole. The water had a little surge of heat, like it does some times that accentuated the burning I felt deep in my center. I’d wanted this for so long but just never found the right guy.

  But, at least in my imagination, I’d found two of them. At the same time.

  Gia, you dirty girl. I couldn’t help by smile as my finger slipped all the way in and I cupped my hand around myself, grinding my palm against my clit.

  “Oh, feels so good,” I whispered. My voice bounced off the shower walls. I heard a noise outside the bathroom and held my breath, but it was nothing. Just someone going down the hall. Closing my eyes, visions of my two daddies returned. Both Ben and Drake were fit guys – my mom would of course tolerate nothing less, but Drake was a life-long swimmer. Really lean and trim, where Ben was a weightlifting guy; big and bulky and muscly. I couldn’t decide which type I liked better, so I guess my mind made up its own solution.

  “How about this?” Imaginary Drake said. I ran my hand along the outside of my thigh to simulate his dick on me. Just the thought of the word made me giggle involuntarily.

  “Yes,” I moaned. I slipped another finger right in beside the first and started turning them in slow circles in opposite directions. God did it ever feel good. I wanted to really do this so bad that it hurt sometimes.

  It wasn’t that I was embarrassed about the other girls talking about their boyfriends. Not really. It was that I was ashamed at how bad I wanted to do all that stuff. I was just too shy. Too damn shy.

  I pushed hard with my palm, making it go in the same little circles my fingers did, and couldn’t help but grunt softly.

  “I think our baby girl wants my cock, what do you think, Ben?” My two fantasy daddies exchanged a glance and I reached down to find that both of them were big and hard and standing straight up.

  A third
finger went inside me. I started dragging my fingertips along the front of my sex, right over a little place that made me wiggle with pleasure. In and out, a little faster, a little harder, I pumped my hand as the water bounced off my erect nipples and my breath tightened in my chest.

  “Do you think she wants one?” In my imagination, Ben paused to kiss my neck. In reality, my knees were starting to go a little weak and I was beginning to shake. “Or do you think she wants both?”

  Immediately, I got a deliciously naughty vision of me on top of my daddy Ben, his dick so deep in me that it hurt, and Drake standing behind me, his hands kneading my tits, and his rock hard cock pushing on my...no, no, no, it couldn’t be. I’d never even thought of someone doing that, but...

  I slipped the tip of my thumb inside my puckered ring as my pussy started to squeeze at my others. Even that tiny bit, just the tip, sent pleasure snaking up my back. The muscles in my core all flexed up at once, and then, just as I urged my thumb a little deeper, I bit my lip to keep from screaming.

  The water on my chest, my knees wobbling, both of my private places sucking and squeezing my fingers, I was so close. I held my breath until my lungs burned, then just as my shoulders began to shake and my muscles all relaxed at once –

  Bzzzzt!BZZZZZZZZT!

  My phone was vibrating against the shelf. My mind got all fuzzed up, and visions of my two beautiful dads turned into a vision of my phone falling to its death on the tiles of the bathroom.

  I threw the towel around my waist and snatched my phone off the shelf right before it took a nose-dive.

  “Hello?” I grabbed it and answered before looking. When I glanced down to tighten my towel, I realized that I had a bright red flush all over my chest.

  “Gia!”

  Holy – it was Ben!

  “God I’m glad you answered. Listen, I hate to do this on short notice, but you know I’ve got Kyle this weekend.” Kyle’s my half-brother.

  “I don’t really keep up, but sure? What’s going on?”

  He took a deep breath. “If you’re not busy, I have a big favor to ask you.”

  “How did I know?”

  “Because you’re a genius!” He laughed. “Look, I’ve got-”

  “Let me guess. You’ve got something you have to do and you want me to come over and babysit?”

  “Er...yeah. Kinda.”

  I didn’t mind. I liked doing it actually, and hanging out with Ben was just a bonus to spending time playing kid’s videogames and pretending I was doing it for Kyle. But after the session I’d just had in the shower, I had a couple of naughtier thoughts. Of course, nothing would ever happen. They were just dumb fantasies.

  “Kinda? How can you need me to ‘kinda’ babysit?”

  In response, he just laughed. “Can you help me out? I’m seeing someone you might not expect me to –”

  “It’s fine,” I cut him off. He was dating. He’s a good, single guy. He had a right to find some happiness. I didn’t need to butt in. “Whatever you’re doing is your business. Yeah, of course. I don’t get out of work until about eight or so. Is that okay?”

  “Perfect. You sure you don’t want to know who I’m going out with?” He asked.

  “Nope. Your life, your business. See you at eight.”

  He said goodbye and hung up. While it was true, I didn’t want to get all in his business about his love life, after the fantasy I just had, there was a fleeting moment when I imagined it all coming true. Me babysitting for a few hours, then him coming home with my other dad, and both of them seducing the little girl they raised. Wooing me and doing all the wonderful, naughty, fantastic things that my friends talked about their boyfriends doing.

  I shook my head.

  It’ll never happen. Never in a million, billion years. Just not possible.

  Still though, none of my friends ever talked about a threesome. Well, except for Bridget once. And it was an accident. Nothing like this. My insides burned just thinking about it. I had to stop. It was never going to happen, anyway, and the only thing that nursing the fantasy would do was make my four hour shift at the video store really unbearable.

  *

  It was unbearable, but only because I had a visit from not one, but three of my ‘favorite’ customers. “Guy who asks for new release list” and then stands there as I recite them was followed by “guy who rents a pile of dirty movies and hides them under a regular movie”. After the two of them, I thought there was no way “guy who hits on me” was coming in, but he most certainly did.

  Anyway, as soon as my shift was over I headed to Ben’s house.

  The drive took about a half hour, which included a stop off at an ice cream shop on the way because work sucked and I had no idea what sort of a mood Kyle was in. Five year olds have a lot of them of course, but most involve some level of screaming. When I showed up, Ben was just closing the door.

  “He’s in the living room. I just ordered a pizza, and the dude is watching Finton and Fergus? I don’t know. Some kid’s cartoon.”

  He had the name comically wrong, but I knew what he meant. Also, there was someone else in the front seat of his car, but whoever it was didn’t look very effeminate. My first thought was ‘Ben is gay?’ instead of ‘oh he’s going out with a guy to the bar to watch a game’ which probably says something about me. He was in such a hurry though that it almost immediately slipped my mind.

  “Well,” Ben said with a smile. “Thanks again. I owe you one. Maybe two. I won’t be gone very long. Maybe when I get back we can play some Parcheesi or something?”

  I grunted a laugh.

  “Maybe you have something else in mind? Anyway, won’t be gone long. Couple hours, maybe. See ya soon.” He hopped in the car, shut the door and was down the driveway by the time I realized he was gone.

  Yeah, I have something else in mind. Damn right I do. I pinched myself for being so dirty-minded. I had to quit that and I had to quit it soon. Inside, Gia, get inside. Playing with that kid will get your mind off things.

  Kyle was in a surprisingly un-screamy mood, which was cool, so we just kinda sat around and ate some pizza, watched some kiddy cartoons and played a game or two, which reminded me, as weird as it might sound, of being around Ben when I wasn’t much older than Kyle.

  Like I said about my mom, she was always going-going-going and never had much time for either me or my daddy. Ben never really liked it, but for some reason, Drake puts up with her intensity a lot better than Ben ever did.

  This is gonna sound really, really lame, but Ben was the ‘rock’ in my life. He taught me how to ride a bike, and get up whenever I fell. That lesson really stuck with me, the getting up one. It works with everything, not just double-tired little vehicles. When my first boyfriend dumped me, I spent all night crying about it to Drake, since I started dating late, and Ben was already gone, but his voice was in the back of my mind.

  “Just keep on getting back up, sweetie,” I remembered him saying. “No matter what, life can’t kill you until it does. And then, what is there to worry about?”

  He used to laugh and laugh every time he said that, and I never really got it until later. He was right though. Nothing ever got me down because of him. Nothing got me worked up, depressed, or anything else. He taught me how to be strong. How to be a good person, and all that, and I loved him for it. He also was the first man I ever teased. God, this is so embarrassing to admit, but as a little girl, I would put on the most ridiculous outfits I could find and traipse around trying to get Ben’s attention.

  He never gave it to me of course, but good Lord did I ever try. Then again, I was so young that I didn’t even really know what I was doing. My concerted efforts to get attention didn’t really start until Drake came into my life.

  Drake, Drake, Drake. What is there to say? First of all he’s almost unrealistically gorgeous. He’s got these dark blue eyes that work just perfectly with the dark, wavy hair. I could tell what my mom saw in him from the first time I saw him. I was sixteen, obnox
iously curvy, and actually just obnoxious in general if I’m being honest. But I was still, you know, Gia. Meaning, shy and awkward.

  I never believed, not really, that I was anything but a plain, boring, homely girl. My mom is smoking hot, even now pushing 40, she’s got it.

  Anyway, by the time she brought Drake home, I’d developed a very honest and earnest enjoyment of the male form, shall we say. I’d stolen a couple of her lingerie catalogues and devoured the male models. I’d even discovered the joys of shower-time while everyone was gone. God I was loud back then. I’d lie on my back in the bath tub, turn the water on warm and let it bounce between my legs. I could do that for hours at a time if I was left alone.

  Before she brought Drake home with her, I’d usually spend my time fantasizing about those underwear models. Afterwards, though...

  And it never struck me as wrong. As shy and utterly helpless around men, or even boys my own age as I was, the idea of trying to steal my mom’s boyfriend was just a kind of a game, I guess. Besides, it was all just fantasy. Nothing ever happened, and why would it? He had my mom, and she was a thousand times the woman I ever thought I was. Until one day, when I was wandering around the house in my too-tight shirt that I had worn since I was just starting to grow...you know...grow.

  “You look just like your mom, you know?” Drake had said. He wasn’t letching or anything, at least when I was looking anyway. He just looked me in the eyes and paid me the biggest compliment anyone ever had; that I, the awkward little Gia, looked like my gorgeous mom.

  That, of course, really got me fueled up. My fantasies got naughtier and more outlandish, and I started to throw myself at him. Short shorts, workout sweats that barely fit over my still-growing tits, the whole nine yards, you know? But never once did he pay any attention. Every now and then, he’d drop one of his lines. He’d tell me I looked like my mom, or that I looked especially good this day or that day. But it was all totally innocent.