Ramona Scarlett’s Giant TOO TABOO Mega Bundle (Twenty Story Step Taboo Household Erotica Box Set)

by Ramona Scarlett

  Anyway, I still didn’t know what it was, so I used the next tool in my candy investigation tool box (CSI: Claire Sucker Investigation!): I began to bob my head up and down on the lollipop, sucking it as I did and scraping it ever so gently with my teeth.

  My daddy seemed to like the way I was tasting the lollipop because he was sighing and moaning and running his fingers through my hair. He especially seemed to like pushing my head all the way down onto the lollipop, so that it went all the way back to the very depths of my throat! That didn’t feel so great and I felt tears coming to my eyes each time he did this. Still, I knew the only reason he could be doing it was because he was trying to help me taste that delicious lollipop and figure out what it was. I was sure my daddy wanted me to work at his store but I knew he just had to be fair and give me the same interview as he gave to all the other girls! I was glad that I had the blindfold on because I didn’t want my daddy to see me starting to cry from the lollipop bumping against the back of my throat, or from the way it cut off my supply of oxygen.

  “That’s my good little Claire-bear,” he offered and those words made me feel tons better. When he said that, I felt like I could do this—like I could figure out what that lollipop was! I still had no idea but from the way it was twitching and trembling in my mouth, growing hotter and hotter with each second it spent between my pink little lips and with my hot, wet tongue wrapped around it, I had the feeling that it wouldn’t be long before I knew what it was.

  I whimpered and moaned onto the lollipop, trying to show my daddy how hard I was working. Suddenly, the lollipop seemed to change. It began to spasm in my mouth! How strange—I’d never known a lollipop to do that and, as you know, I’m something of an expert! The lollipop twitched and spasmed and seemed to tighten in my mouth before exploding, shooting streams of something sticky and gooey down my throat. I kept my cool, though, swallowing the cream spraying out of this wonderful, mysterious lollipop as it came. I devoured each spurt, swallowing it down like the creamy ejaculation from the eclairs my daddy sells in the summer around Bastille Day. As the spurts of creams slowed to a halt, however, I was no closer to knowing what it was.

  Then something even crazier happened: as I swallowed the last droplets of the salty, sticky cream, the lollipop began to shrink! It seemed to grow limp and flaccid, so that I could roll it around in my mouth. My daddy had been sighing and grunting this entire time and he rubbed my head affectionately now.

  “So, Claire-bear, any ideas what that was?”

  My face fell. The limp lollipop popped out of my mouth, a trail of my saliva attached to it and droplets of cream dribbling down my chin.

  “No, daddy,” I said sadly. “I still don’t know.”

  “That’s because it was a trick question,” my daddy said warmly. “Don’t beat yourself up too much over it. It was a special lollipop you’ve never tasted before.”

  I heard the zipping noise as my daddy put the lollipop away. A special lollipop I had never tasted before?! I couldn’t believe such a thing existed. Had my daddy been keeping his special lollipop from me until I turned eighteen?!

  “Daddy, why haven’t I tasted it before? Why did you keep your special lollipop from me?”

  “I only let the girls who work for me taste my special lollipop. Even your mom doesn’t taste my special lollipop anymore.”

  “Why doesn’t mommy taste your special lollipop? I bet she’d like it,” I said sadly.

  “Well, to be honest, your mom never really liked tasting my special lollipop in the first place. I would have to beg and plead with her to get her to try it and even when she did taste it, she wasn’t very good at licking it. You, on the other hand, I’ve trained to lick and suck lollipops ever since you were a little girl. You’re a real pro at it and you just showed me that. Besides, your mom has other lollipops she likes to lick and sometimes, she even gets paid money to lick them. I don’t mind, as long as she brings home the dough.”

  “Oh, okay. I think I understand,” I said, even though I totally didn’t understand. Oh well! My gym teacher, Mr. Emerson, said pretty girls like me don’t really have to understand things. He told me this while he helped me stretch for the President’s Fitness test last year…

  “But anyway, you passed this part of the interview, sweetheart. You passed with flying colors: you identified the two lollipops and you persevered when tasting my special lollipop and even managed to squeeze the cream out of it!”

  “Yay! Thank you, daddy! Does this mean I have the job?”

  “Not quite. You see, sweetheart, a Neitzel’s candy girl has to be sweet. And there’s only one way to make sure you’re sweet enough to be a Neitzel’s candy girl.”

  “What’s that, daddy? You know I’m plenty sweet!”

  “Oh, I know you act sweet but I need to know if you’re really sweet.”

  Wasn’t I sweet enough for daddy? I had no idea what he was talking about but I was suddenly worried that I had done something wrong. How was I going to prove to my daddy that I was sweet enough to be one of his candy girls? Did Rachel have to prove she was sweet? Her lips and tongue sure were sweet and she and I use the same brand of lip gloss…

  Without removing my blindfold, my daddy helped me to my feet. He gently bent me over and table and flipped up my skirt. I yelped in surprise. He could see my bare butt!

  “Daddy! What are you doing?”

  “No underwear today? Why’s that, Claire-bear?”

  “I… I forgot…”

  “Well, no harm there. It actually makes the next part of the interview easier.”

  I was blushing bright red but I was glad that it made the interview easier. I was especially glad that my daddy seemed to like the sight of my bare butt! I think I have a pretty cute butt: it’s tiny and pale but very, very round. My butt cheeks could probably fit in the palm of your hands! They fit in my daddy’s palms, that’s for sure, as he rubbed and massaged my butt, stroking me and spreading my cheeks apart. I was really blushing now, because he could see my cunny AND my butt hole! That must be gross but maybe daddy likes things like that! Besides, he’s my daddy so he’s seen me naked tons of times, though not since I was a little kid and he would give me baths.

  “This is the next part of the interview,” my daddy said softly. “I’m going to taste you to see how sweet you are.”

  “Daddy, where are you going to taste me? And how?”

  “Why, right here, sweet heart.”

  I felt something soft and wet sliding around my cunny. It slid in the creases of my thighs and up to my wet little hole. It slid all over my wet little cunny lips and my smooth little mound. It felt… incredible!

  “Daddy, what are you doing?”

  “I’m tasting you, Claire-bear,” he said softly.

  “Is… Is that your tongue?”

  “It sure is.”

  “Oh, daddy, it feels so good,” I moaned as he dipped his tongue inside of me, spreading me wide with his hotness. I groaned and balled my hands up into fists. God, but this was so good!

  “And you taste pretty sweet, baby doll,” he whispered.

  “Really, daddy?” I whimpered back.

  “Really. But I need to keep tasting you to make sure you’re sweet enough to be a candy girl. My candy girls need to start off sweet and stay sweet.”

  “Okay, daddy, taste me as much as you like!” I never wanted him to stop. Did he do this to Rachel? Maybe that’s what they were doing on their sleepovers… I’d have to get in on this tasting the next time she slept over! Maybe I’d have Rachel taste me too! And I could taste Rachel!

  “Daddy, do you taste all the girls who work for you?”

  “Of course I taste them all. Not only do I taste them all, I check each week to make sure they’re still as sweet as the day they started. Or sweeter, even!”

  “Oooooh, daddy…” I moaned. He was licking me just right, sliding his tongue up and down, up and down, over my pretty pink cunny lips. This was perfect. Now, he was licking my little clitty. I
squeezed my eyes shut hard, feeling butterflies in my belly. Oh boy!

  Suddenly, I felt an intense fire in my belly that spread throughout my whole body. It was like electricity was shooting into my fingertips and toes. I let out a scream and I was suddenly worried that I could be heard in the front of the store. That probably wasn’t good for business but I didn’t care! I was exploding with sweetness for my daddy!

  “Oh, daddy, what’s happening?!” I moaned.

  “Mmmm, you’re giving me all your sweetness, baby Claire-bear,” he murmured into my cunny. I sighed and moaned as the feelings very slowly subsided.

  “Daddy, that was… Incredible.”

  “Mm, and you were very sweet. You’ve passed that portion of the test. There’s only one part left.”

  “Really, daddy? What’s that?”

  “A candy girl has to become one with the candy she sells. Are you ready to become one with daddy’s special lollipop?”

  “Of course, daddy! I’ll do anything to be your candy girl!” I exclaimed.

  I heard daddy unzipping his special lollipop again. I didn’t have any idea what he meant by becoming one with his special lollipop but I sure was excited to try it! I love everything about candy and everything about my daddy, so I knew I was ready to become one with his lollipop. Besides, I’d spent so much time preparing for this interview and I was doing so well. I wanted this so badly, there was no way I would fail now!

  Then I felt it! Daddy’s special lollipop, pressing against my cunny! It made sense, I guess! It was like the first two parts of the interview were being combined in this, the final piece of the interview puzzle. My cunny was so wet and sloppy from the way my daddy had been licking and kissing and suckling it that it gave way really fast and stretched open wide for daddy’s special lollipop and wow, did that feel incredible! It slid right in, so, so deep and I let out a loud moan, squeezing my eyes shut tight as his special lolly went deep, so deep, into me.

  “Oh, daddy, am I becoming one with your special lollipop?”

  “You’re on your way, baby girl. You’re on your way. Spread your butt a little wider for daddy.”

  “Oh, yes, daddy, anything! Make me your candy girl!” I moaned and pressed my hips back against him as he pumped his special lollipop deep into my sweet, pink cunny. I hoped I felt like soft, sweet chocolate engulfing his special lollipop! I loved the feeling of it inside of me and I hoped that this would be a regular part of the job.

  “Oh, daddy, do you make Rachel become one with your special lollipop?” I moaned as it slid in and out of me.

  “All the time. And Kelsey too. I just gave it to Kelsey earlier today. She’s not as good at it as you are,” he murmured, his words interspersed with moans.

  “Daddy, when you hire me, can I be in charge of Kelsey?”

  “Oh, I think we could arrange something,” my daddy groaned, gripping my butt cheeks hard. Suddenly, the lollipop was pounding into me faster and harder, spreading me open wide! This was incredible! It ached but in a sweet, delicious way, like the ache you get from eating too much candy!

  “I could train Kelsey to lick a lollipop like me and become one with your special lollipop just like me,” I moaned, biting my lip as that lollipop invaded my wet, creamy depths. “She’ll be all our customers’ favorite when I done with her! And I’ll spank her if she doesn’t get it right, just like you did with Rachel that one time!”

  “Oooh, Claire-bear, you’re so nice and tight,” my daddy moaned. I didn’t really know what he was talking about—I guess my cunny—so I just moaned back.

  “Yes, daddy, I’m your candy girl. Make me your top candy girl!”

  Suddenly, I felt the lollipop inside of me begin to twitch, just like it had in my mouth. I knew what was coming and I was so excited to take that hot, sticky candy cream deep in my cunny! I felt it begin to spasm and then, stream after stream of the hot cream began to pour out of it, filling up my tight little cunny. I moaned and my daddy did too! I guess he was really enjoying seeing me become one with his special lollipop!

  As it had before, the lolly became soft when it was done pouring out its cream. It slid out of me with a delicious sounding lollipop pop and I sighed, feeling the cream dribble out of my cunny and down my bare legs.

  “You can take your blindfold off now, baby Claire-bear,” my daddy said. I heard him zipping up his lollipop again and when I took off the blindfold, I saw him smiling real big.

  “Congratulations, baby girl. You’re going to be my newest employee!”

  I flew into my daddy’s arms and planted a big kiss on his lips! I tasted myself on there and I was pretty surprised—it didn’t taste sweet at all! No matter, though. I had done it! I passed the interview!

  Finally, I was going to work in my daddy’s candy store!

  BOOM!

  The thunder smashed through my room again. I shook awake, my heart pounding, sweat clinging to my bare skin. My sheer white tank top and underwear were soaked clean through. I might as well have been competing in a wet t-shirt contest, something I definitely never did while on spring break with my cousins last year.

  Thunder storms. I hate thunder storms.

  I’d hated thunder storms ever since that night, fourteen years ago. I was only four then and my mom and I were driving home from my grandparents house. She had just remarried after my dad left us and it was a pretty happy time all around. My new dad, my step-dad, Jim, was out of town on business. Unlike my biological dad, he had a job—a real job that meant he had to travel but one that brought home a salary fat enough that we didn’t have to worry about money anymore and my mom could stop working the weekend shift at Hooter’s.

  I don’t really remember much of that night, except the way the country highway curved. I remembered thinking that it reminded me of a slinky, the way it would sling us from one side of the road to the other. The rain pelted our car like hail and every now and then, a flash of lightning would reveal the highway to us, bright as day.

  I must have dozed off, because the last thing I remember from that night is waking up in intensive care, unfamiliar faces all around me. I assumed it was just a dream and I think I nodded off after that. My memory is fuzzy until about a week after the accident, when I remember my grandparents visiting me, friends from school crowding around my bed in the hospital with my homeroom teacher hovering protectively over me, and Jim, my daddy, sitting by my bed every night, a silent sentinel who held my hand for hours on end.

  I only have a few scars on my lower back from the accident but time has faded them. The other scars, the ones inside, still remain. Thunderstorms have terrified me ever since.

  I climbed out of bed, on the verge of tears. Here I was, a girl of eighteen years, an adult, for Christ’s sakes, and I was terrified of a stupid storm. A stupid, stupid storm. God, how I missed my mother—even though I barely remembered her.

  It was the summer after my senior year and even though I was happy to be going off to college in the fall, I had always hated summer. I hated summer because that meant the thunderstorms would start up. Summer is thunderstorm season here in the Midwest and they come on, fast, without warning, cutting through a serene night like a knife shredding silk. There were times when I had to pull off the highway during a storm and hide in the back seat because my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

  I felt like a child. I caught sight of myself in my bedroom mirror. Maybe I looked a little like a child too. I’m pretty petite, with small perky breasts and a round, compact butt that could fit in a big man’s hands pretty easily. I always got mistaken for a freshman in high school, even when I had been there for four years. My big, blue eyes and pouty, innocent red lips probably don’t help things.

  It also didn’t help that I was clutching my fluffy white teddy bear, Alphonse. My daddy got him for me right after the accident. I had slept with him practically every night since I could remember. It was just about the only thing that made me feel safe and comforted now. Except, of course, for my daddy himself.


  I padded out of my room and down the hall of our house. We moved a year after the accident, because there were just too many memories at the old house. My daddy started his own business, a consulting company, which he could run from home so he could take me to school and pick me up. It turned out to be very successful and we were pretty well off from the time I turned thirteen on—we could afford to go on fancy European vacations, we could afford for me to get a car when I turned sixteen (and not just a hand-me down—a brand new cherry red Mustang convertible!), and we could afford for me to go visit colleges and take classes at different campuses every summer.

  The floor felt cool against my bare feet. I found my way to the master bedroom down the hall. I eased the door open. Inside, lying in a crumpled mass on the bed, was my daddy, snoring softly. He’s a big, handsome man. He was in the Army once upon a time and even as he’s gotten older, he’s still incredibly fit and well-muscled. I could see his broad chest rising and falling with each breath, the moonlight filtering in through the window casting a light on his sculpted abs. Every morning, he got up and went for a five mile run, breaking up the miles with push-ups, pull-ups, and crunches. As far as I knew, he hadn’t missed a day in years.