Rick was unloading the plates, balancing the second one and a jug of OJ. When he glanced over at me, I thought he'd drop them both. His eyes fell to my chest and my cheeks caught fire. I guess that bra was worth the hefty price tag after all.
I bat my eyes at him. "Everything okay?"
He gave his head a shake and turned back to setting the table. "Everything’s perfect." He pulled out a chair, his biceps flexing. "I hope you brought your appetite.”
For food and other things. "It looks delicious, Rick!"
When I sat down beside him, a sliver of glee coursed through me as I saw that he hesitated before moving to the seat a few feet away. Was he breathing me in? Was he imagining me underneath my clothes?
He flicked open the OJ and poured it into his cup, almost sloshing the liquid past the rim. He was understandably nervous—it was the first time we'd ever been alone, just him and me.
"So," he said brightly, breaking the silence. "How are your classes?"
I bit into a strawberry, capturing his gaze and holding it. I pulled my arm down, chewing the fruit nice and slow.
"I'm taking some fun classes," I said after I swallowed. "Western Civ...human sexuality." I smirked when I saw him shift in his seat. "You okay?"
His face was blank, but something flittered across his gray eyes. "I'm fine. How's the omelet?"
His attempt at a subject change wasn't lost on me. "It's delicious." I brought the fork to my mouth and jutted my tongue out against the metal. "Did you ever take human sexuality, Rick?"
He let out a guffaw. "Should we really be having this conversation, Allison?"
"Why not?" I shrugged. "I’m eighteen. We're both adults."
"Yes, but it's really not appropriate lunch conversation."
I brought the fork down. "Ah, I get it. You're from a time where men galloped around on white horses and opened doors and the like."
"Allison," he said, warning in his baritone voice.
"Candy was five cents and the idea of sex before marriage was blasphemy." I leaned in, the neck of my t-shirt dipping dangerously low. "And what about sex between relatives, Rick? You know anything about that?"
He froze, stunned by my words. After he had a moment to gather himself, he dabbed at his mouth with a napkin and pushed from the table. "We'll just forget you said that."
As he turned to go, I reached out and stopped him. "I don't wanna forget." I took his hand and put it on my breast. "I want you, Rick."
He stepped away, his stoic face good and red. "You don't know what you're saying. You don’t know what you're asking of me."
I pushed up from the chair and stood dangerously close to him, my hard peaks brushing his hard chest. "And you don't know that every day since the day I've met you I've touched myself, waiting for the right moment." I stared up at him. "Waiting for you to take me."
"Ally-"
"You can fight me if you want," I said with a cat-like grin. "Hell, that'll make it more fun. But I know you want me." I reached out and gripped him, feeling the solid swell of his desire. "Eventually, we're gonna fuck. Why not make it sooner rather than later?"
When his eyes narrowed, the smile fell from my face. He stepped forward, making me stumble back until I hit the rim of the table.
"You're a naughty little girl, aren't you?"
"Rick," I said, the fear making my core squeeze with delight, "I'll be whoever you want me to be."
The air went out of my lungs as he grabbed my wrist and spun me around. My back was to him, my arm a slash across my body. I let out a moan as I felt his member move against my back.
"Y-you like it rough, huh?" I got my answer as he released his grip and slammed me onto the table. Glasses skidded to the edge and plates rattled as my breasts smushed against the tablecloth.
He reached around and unbuckled my jeans. I wiggled out of them willingly. I didn't know what he was gonna do to me, and the suspense quickened my heart in my chest.
His hand was callous against my bare cheeks as he grazed over the surface. "God, you've got a hot little ass." He pulled his hand away. "And a dirty little mouth."
I cried out when his hand made contact with my bottom, slicing through the moan that rose in my throat. The pain blossomed over my rear, and I clamped my muscles. "Not so ha—"
He smacked my bottom again. Harder. I tried to wriggle away, but those muscles I'd admired held me still. As he hit me a third time, tears welled in my eyes.
"Say you're naughty," he boomed behind me. "That you deserve to be punished."
I gulped. "And you won't spank me anymore?"
He slackened his grip and let me turn to face him. "If you say it, I won't tan your hide."
A tear coursed down my cheek. "I-I'm naughty. And deserve to be punished."
He pulled back. "Good girl." But as soon as I stood up straight, he grabbed me like I was nothing, tossing me over his shoulder.
I flailed about, fear bubbling in me. "What're you doing? I said what you wanted!"
He sat on the couch, and I spilled into his lap. He kept me from rolling onto the coffee table, holding me steady over his knees, my bottom bare.
I shook my head. "No more spanking—you promised! You—" My words became jelly as he caressed my cheeks tenderly. My body still trembled with left over shock from my spanking, but the tide of pleasure was consuming it as Rick kept touching me.
I sucked in air as he spread my cheeks.
"You’re so beautiful," he whispered.
I exhaled and felt the release all over my body as he took a finger and traced the length of my honey slit, getting his digit nice and wet with my juices. I wanted him to jam it in my hole, but I didn't want to do anything that would revert back to the spanking.
He kept teasing me. "How does it feel?"
"Good," I said hoarsely. "It feels so good."
I groaned with elation when he pushed a finger inside my moist hole.
"You're so wet," he said, his voice laced with desire. "So wet for me."
My core smacked and squished against his finger as he plunged it in and out, exploring my carnal depths. I was putty in his hands, locked in his erotic embrace—and I never wanted him to let me go.
He pulled his finger from my juicy hole and removed his arm from my waist. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me up, arching my back until my head was upside down and in line with his. Even flipped, I could see the desire burning in his eyes.
"I want you to sit on my cock, Ally. I wanna feel those lips sucking on me. Swallowing me."
He released my hair and I bounced down, the pain accompanied by shards of pleasure. I scrambled from his lap and stood over him. He unzipped his fly and his member snapped to attention, pre-come oozing from the head.
I took a step forward, but he held up a hand. "Take off that shirt. Let me see you."
I pulled the tee over my head and beamed when his eyes bulged as he took in my chest. I reached around my back and unhooked my bra. My breasts sprang free, the peaks hard as rocks.
"God, you're beautiful," he moaned, stroking his length. "I've gotta have you—I've gotta have you now."
I didn't waste any more time. I sauntered over to him, steadying myself on one knee on the left side of his hips, then slowly impaled myself on his pole. His throbbing girth stretched me with every inch, making me grit my teeth in beautiful agony. He filled me up—there was no room for right or wrong or coherent words. We talked gibberish; we grunted as we gave in to our desire.
I rode him like a woman possessed, bouncing and thrashing and clasping him to me. His hands were in my hair and dug into my back. My peaks were in between his teeth, battered and licked and sucked, adding to the sensations that pulled me under. I was drowning in ecstasy, but I didn't want to go to the other side before he came inside me.
My body spasmed uncontrollably as the bottom fell out of the world. I made howls that shook the house’s very foundation. My core clenched and unclenched in sporadic rhythm. My orgasm was more intense than anything I
’d ever felt.
"Oh God, I'm coming!" he screeched, clasping me to him as his body quaked. "I'm coming!"
I felt the spurts of his liquid desire as he unloaded inside me, his lust swirling with my own. We stayed like that, in post coital bliss, until our collective breathing changed from frenzied to normal.
I let out one last moan as I pulled from him, sinking onto the cushion beside him.
He turned to me, his face hard as stone. "We can't ever talk about what we just did, Ally. What just transpired...the activity..."
I slid off the couch, swiping my clothing and tucking it into the crook of my arm as I walked to the shower. "What activity?" I said cryptically, over my shoulder.
I pushed into the guest bathroom and as soon as the door closed, I fell back against it, my body shaking. He was better than I imagined. No dream I conjured up did him justice.
I stepped into the shower stall, beads of water pounding my flesh. I had more than just dreams now. Next time I touched myself, I'd think about lying across my stepdad's knees.
MY MOMMY THE PORN STAR by Kirsten Rose
Brock
It had been far, far too long since Brock had gotten laid. He was a 24-year-old college student; he should be drowning in girls. Yet he hadn't fucked anyone in what felt like forever and he never would have thought in a million years that it would happen in his insignificant little home town. He had spent years of his life here and he honestly thought he had met every female in town. And yet here he was, visiting his stepmom for the summer break, and less than 24 hours after arriving he was about to get it on with a woman who started coming onto him in the grocery store of all places.
He was so excited about breaking his dry streak that it was nothing short of a miracle when he managed to get Tiffany through the front door and up to his mom's guest room without blowing a load in his pants. Tiffany was one of those girls who would've never given him the time of day years ago in high school, but now that Brock was well out of his awkward phase and keeping himself in good shape, he didn't have quite as much trouble landing girls. A girl like Tiffany, however, that was something to be proud of.
With her golden blonde hair, fully, pouty lips, and perky tits with nipples that pressed against her shirt as if trying to break out, Tiffany made him weak in the knees. He fell onto the bed first and Tiffany followed, climbing on top of him and grinding into his crotch without ever removing her lips from his. She tasted just as sweet as he'd imagined. She pressed into his cock hard and even through his jeans he swore he could feel her wetness.
"Oh god," she whispered as her lips briefly pulled away from his, "you feel so fucking hard." She grabbed his cock through his jeans and squeezed; he moaned into her mouth. She giggled. She rose to her knees and her fingers popped the button on his jeans, then slid open his zipper, and finally peeled away his dark cotton briefs until his cock was free.
"Holy shit," she gasped. "You're amazing." He wasn't sure if she was talking to him or his dick, but either way he liked it. Her cold fingers wrapped around his thick manhood and he breathed in sharply at the feeling. Her grip tightened and she moved her hand up and down, stroking him slowly. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the bedspread beneath him.
"You like that?" she asked. He nodded. Then she climbed off of him, kneeling over to the side, where she bent down and rolled her lips over his warm prick.
"Oh fuck," he said in a loud whisper. She didn't say anything in return, instead moving her head back and forth along his cock. Her lips were soft against his sensitive flesh and the way her tongue slid up and down his shaft made him acutely aware that he could cum way earlier than he intended. He pushed his fingers into her hair, watching them disappear in her curls. He wrapped his hand around her scalp and gently pushed her into him, his hand bobbing up and down with the motion of her sucking. He'd never been the type to just grab a girl by the hair and face-fuck her. Even the women who wanted it and successfully talked him into getting rough, he was always timid and reluctant about it. He'd by lying, though, if he said there wasn't a tiny bit of excitement in the control.
After five minutes had passed and Tiffany showed no signs of stopping, Brock realized that he might have to stop her himself before he came. He could sometimes cum multiple times in one session, but it had been so long since he'd been with a woman he didn't want to chance blowing his load and not being able to fuck her.
"Hey,” was all he said as he pulled her away.
"You don't like it?" she asked, her lips curved into a playful frown.
"I like it a little too much," Brock joked. "Why don't you take those pants off?" Tiffany flashed him an aroused smile and bit her lip, then her fingers went to work unfastening her jeans. He watched in awe as the denim and cotton panties slid away to reveal an enticing "V" of dark brown hair, pointing the way to the slick, waiting lips of her pussy. Brock snapped out of his aroused haze and swallowed for what felt like the first time in minutes. As her jeans hit the floor she slipped her feet out of them, doing a little dance, shaking her midsection back and forth in mesmerizing rhythm.
"You like what you see?" It was rhetorical, of course. She was well aware of the power she held over men. Brock didn't respond, simply smiled and reached out, cupping her ass cheek with one hand and pulling her into him. Her snatch stood an inch away from his face when he plunged into it. It wasn't the ideal position for eating her out, but he made enough headway to taste the sweetness of her pussy and get her moaning.
"Oh my god, Brock," she wrapped her delicate hands around his head and held him there; she didn't push him into her. It was as if his position and movement and just everything that was happening at that moment was absolutely perfect and she didn't want anything ruining it.
Then something ruined it.
A bubbly pop song that he didn't recognize came, muffled, out of the purse that she had flung onto his nightstand. He was already fully invested in ignoring it when she broke away, turning towards the sound and fishing her phone out of her purse.
"It can't be that important" he half-joked, but got no response other than "shit."
"What's wrong?" he asked. The phone was already back in her purse and she was moving towards the clothes on the ground. It was over. "Oh, it's nothing," she said. "Well not nothing. I gotta go."
Brock's mouth hung open. "Really?"
"Yes," she said as she pulled up her panties. "Sorry, it's an emergency."
Brock tucked his cock away, swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. "You just said it was nothing."
"I have to go, okay?" Her pants were almost around her waist now. "I really am sorry. You're a sweet guy."
"Thanks, I guess," he replied. Her attitude was suspicious, like maybe she suddenly had some crisis of conscious and regretted coming over.
"This was fun. Though the blue balls won't be," she laughed.
He gave her a smile, though even he didn't know how genuine it was. He started to get up off the bed and she stopped him.
"I can show myself out," she smiled and pointed to the laptop that was sitting on the corned desk. "You stay here and take care of yourself."
She gave him a quick peck on the lips and disappeared out the doorway and down the hall. He listened for the front door opening and when it didn't come he briefly considered that she could be stealing all of his mom's knick knacks. When the door eventually opened and shut, he pushed the worry out of his mind.
What he couldn't push out of his mind was his cock, which was still hard and firm. He had no intention of letting it go to waste, so he made his way over to his laptop and fired it up.
A notification popped up in the bottom right corner telling him he had a new email. He would've left it for later, but the subject line read "check out this sexy cougar" and in his current state he found it hard to ignore. He clicked the box, which took him to his email. He didn't recognize the address, but it didn't look like a spam address and the email was just linking him to a site he went to all the time anyway. It
was entirely possible that it was a friend whose email address Brock just didn't recognize. He was likely thinking with his cock rather than his brain, but he threw caution to the wind and clicked it.
The video opened on a pair of tits - never a bad way to start - that clearly belonged to a cougar. They were full and robust despite the woman's age; there were hints of the sagging that inevitably plagued every woman but she fought it valiantly. Her nipples were a dark red, darker than most, and they were hard and firm. Brock had pulled his cock out almost automatically and was already rubbing his palm against the head. It had already gotten a little soft, but it wouldn’t be for long. The woman's face was obscured by the head of the man she was currently making out with. The camera panned down and followed the man's hand as it cupped her tits before running down her body and sliding into her slit. She moaned as his fingers disappeared inside of her and that moan brought Brock back to a full erection. The man spun her around and bent her over a sofa. Her spread her pussy open for the camera and pressed his thumb into her. The woman moaned loudly and Brock squeezed his cock, stroking up and down. The camera panned around as the man pushed his cock into her and started fucking her doggystyle over the couch.
Brock could hear his own breathing as he picked up speed, his hand becoming a blur of pleasure that was encompassing his cock. He was matching the intensity of the man on the screen as he fucked the woman, their flesh smacking together with each thrust, her swollen tits swinging back and forth as slight ripples passed through them. Her face was turned away from the camera and all Brock could see was her straight dark hair. He wanted to see her expression, but the silver lining was he could picture any woman in that role. He started to mentally flip through all the older women he'd wanted to fuck over the years. There were a lot.
Before Brock could decide on a lucky lady, the man ripped his cock from her pussy and started jerking off. It was time for the money shot. Brock was close, too; he loved when he timed it just right. The woman spun around, her magnificent tits swinging wildly. Brock felt an orgasm begin to course through his body; subtle sensations heading towards his cock. Then the woman's face was in plain view and there she was: Brock's stepmom, Sophia, taking a full load on the lower half of her face. He froze, something he didn't even think was possible this close to orgasm. There he sat, his cock in his hand, watching his mother lick cum off of her lips. He didn't know what to do. It was his mom, the woman who had raised him. Even more alarming was the fact that his hard-on wasn't going away.
Taboo Greatest Hits, vol 2 Page 27
