Daddy's HUGE TABOO collection (20 books from Horny House Series)

by Adrian Amos

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” daddy calls out, his own body seizing as he holds my legs in the air.

  “Get me pregnant, daddy!” I scream as his cock starts pumping, laying waste to my pussy as he shoots every ounce of his cum through the broken condom, filling my pussy up as I hang in the air.

  His breathing ragged, him rooted inside me, he finally with great effort begins to pull out. “Lets let it settle,” he says. He restrains my legs, continuing to hold them up, letting his cum ferment in me. I can feel his warm goop draining into me, absorbing into my vaginal walls, nourishing me.

  I can almost feel my eggs yearning for his sperm, begging for it to fuck them like daddy fucked me, to make them complete like he completed me.

  He gave my pussy life, and I hope to give him life as well.

  “Daddy, I want you to keep fucking me every day, all day. I'm yours.”

  He smiles, slapping my ass and making me squirm.

  This might just be the best therapy yet for my addiction. Even if it ends up not working, the least I can do is steal his heart so that he never leaves.

  - - -

  Daddy, Can You Help Measure Me?

  I'm so jealous. I'm stuck as a bridesmaid, when all I want is to be a bride.

  My mom is getting married again at the age of 45 to a younger man. I'm 19, and all I've wanted is to get married, to get pregnant, and to start a family. Seriously, it's all I've ever dreamed of: to have a strong man who takes care of me. I don't want anything else in my life.

  And I think the worst part about this wedding is that the man she's getting married to is my dream guy. Darren is 36, a beefcake, and runs his own gym. His has the tiniest strands of gray starting to take hold in his hair, and I never knew how much something like that could turn me on. I never knew I had an interest in older men like that.

  But Darren's not just any older man. He's been my daddy for a few years now, the man who's taken care of me when my mom's out of town. He cares so much about me, way more than my shitty father ever did, that I melt a little whenever he calls me his little princess.

  But lately I've felt like I've wanted so much more than that. I know it's selfish, but I don't want him as just my daddy, I want him as the man who's inside me as he takes care of me. I want him to whisper his nickname for me into my ear as he fucks my pussy good. I fantasize about that all the time, so much so that I feel like a slut with how much time he occupies in my brain.

  And yet he's going to be with my mom. Ugh, she's already been married once before! It feels like she gets a heaping of seconds before I even get my first plate.

  My mom's too annoying at well. She doesn't listen to Darren all the time; I swear she resists him way too much, ignoring him or avoiding him all together. It makes me so mad! If I was Darren's, I'd do whatever he told me. I'd cook and clean and be an amazing wife. He could take me whenever he wanted, because deep down I'd know I was his, and I'd want him inside me so I can show him my appreciation.

  That's just more chances to have his babies, anyway! I'd let him come in my pussy every night. I'd be his and he'd be mine.

  I sigh. But instead of my dream life, I'm here in my room measuring myself for my bridesmaid dress. At least I should be. I'm just so unmotivated at the moment.

  “Princess?” I hear from my door with a simultaneous knock. “What are you up to?”

  I don't want to dampen his day, so I pick myself up and give him a smile. “I'm just measuring myself for my dress.”

  “Measuring yourself?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I just want to see how I measure before I let the lady at the shop measure me. That way, I can compare numbers, in case they get something different.”

  He laughs, his wide chest shaking as his head tilts back. “You are so neurotic, princess. That's why I love you.”

  I blush. The feeling in my stomach when he tells me he loves me? It's like a sharp stab through my soul. I always wonder if he knew how I felt about him, if when I tell him that, he feels anything similar.

  I wiggle my nose. “I love you, too, daddy.”

  “Well, let me know when you're done so I can drive you over there.”

  “What do you mean drive me over there?”

  “Yeah, about that. Your mom said she had something to do, so I said I'd take you to get fitted.”

  “That's just like her,” I huff. She never seems to show me or Darren the time of day. It bothers me so much that I can't even be excited that Darren is taking me himself.

  “Oh, don't be like that.” He comes close to me, giving me a hug. “You know she loves you. She's just got stuff on her mind.” His big arms wrap around me as I inhale his masculine musk, basking in everything about the man. I can feel his well-developed pecs through his t-shirt, and when I lean in close, I can feel the bulge in his pants through his mesh shorts.

  When I shift in his arms, rubbing against him, I feel the bulge twitch, coming to life from my touch. Oh, daddy, if only you knew how much I wanted to take your cock out of your shorts! It feels even naughtier that you're totally unaware of my feelings.

  “Daddy,” I say, “I swear I care for you more than she does.”

  He smiles as he looks down at me. “Sometimes I think that to.”

  “Really?”

  “Umm,” he hesitates, “Well, yeah. Your mom's just a busy woman, that's all.”

  I roll my eyes, making sure he notices my disgust. “Well, I'm never too busy for you.”

  He hugs me hard, poking me in the side, eliciting giggles from me as I struggle against his fingers in my ribs. “No, no you're not! My little princess is always here for daddy!”

  “Stop it, daddy!” I gasp, laughing uncontrollably, “I can't breathe!”

  He lets go and I fall back onto the bed, working to catch my breathe. It's things like that that drive me wild. Daddy's always there for me, even when I feel awful: he can say or do things that make me leave all those worries behind.

  “You okay?” he asks, laughing alongside me.

  I nod, my stomach curling in knots. I wish he knew; I wish I could tell him. I don't want to let him be unappreciated.

  “So...” I trail, “Why are you marrying my mom anyway?”

  He's taken aback. “What do you mean?”

  I shrug. “Well, if she doesn't appreciate you like I do, why would you marry her?”

  “Hmm. That's a tough question.”

  Is daddy actually expressing doubt?! I knew he was making a mistake, but does he actually think he is, too?

  He snakes his head toward me, bringing it close to my face. “Because then I wouldn't have you as my precious little daughter.”

  “Daddy!” I exclaim. “I'm being serious.”

  He purses his lips, looking as if he's hiding something from me. “Maybe, but I don't think it's appropriate to talk about it with you. I don't want you thinking anything is wrong between your mother and me, or between you and me.”

  “You should be honest with your feelings, daddy. It does no one any good if you're not happy. I'd be incredibly sad if you weren't happy in your marriage. You deserve a woman that will always make you happy.”

  He looks at me, his brow furrowed in thought. He looks like he wants to say something to me but shakes his head. “It's not that simple.”

  “It is to me.”

  “You're young, though.”

  “And you're old and foolish.” I shake my head, and he smiles. “Plus, I'm not that young.”

  “No, you're not. You're a grown woman.” I catch his eyes flicking to my chest and back up, almost as if he did it unconsciously.

  Daddy! My heart skips a beat when I realize what just happened. That was sneaky, but I definitely noticed him looking at me. The way he looked at me and said 'woman' sounded like an implication he's unaware of or just not acknowledging.

  Daddy has feelings for me, I just know it! I'm so excited, but I keep my cool and refrain from jumping up and down like a spaz.

  Then I think of something. I just have to get h
im to show it. He's uncomfortable with them because he wants to see me as his daughter, but he shouldn't be! If I show him that I'm not uncomfortable with them, then he shouldn't be. He should be able to take me whenever he wants.

  “Daddy, can you do me a favor?”

  “What is it, princess?”

  I bring out the measuring tape that I had picked up from mom's closet. “Before we go to the store, can you help measure me?”

  “Help?”

  “Yeah, it'll be faster. Not only that, I'm having trouble reading the numbers on the tape when I have it around me. I don't want to take it off and lose my place.”

  He nods quickly, “Absolutely, I can do that. What do you need me to do?”

  Daddy is my big bear, and I'm going to make sure he gets a good look at all the honey he can have if he just admits his feelings to himself. I'll make sure he won't be able to resist a taste.

  One step at a time.

  “Let's start simple. Measure from my shoulder down to my arm.” He pulls out the tape measure, gently placing it on my shoulder as he stretches it down my arm. I'm wearing a tank top, so my arms are uncovered. We do both arms, his meaty fingers gently caressing my skin as he lays the tape down. That simplest of pleasures ignites me, sending goosebumps out from each spot he touches, like a ripple in the pond of arousal.

  I lift my chin up. “My neck.” He measures around it, the tape like a choker daddy's placing on me to signal I'm his. I have no idea what I'm doing; I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to be measuring for a dress, but neither does my daddy, so all I have to do is guide him along.

  “Let's do my waist next.” As daddy kneels in front of me, I lift my tank top slightly, letting daddy get a close view of my tiny, flat stomach.

  “You better suck this gut in if you want to look good.”

  “Daddy!”

  He smirks, “I'm just kidding. I don't think you even have anything to suck in.”

  He's wrong, because the second his hands fall on my stomach, I immediately freeze and hold my breath, my stomach tightening as his hands run around it. My tummy churns, daddy's touch like a mixer that roils my guts, and I swallow hard to keep anything from coming up.

  “What's wrong?” he asks.

  “That feels good,” I mutter.

  “It feels good? What, this?” He places he huge hand flat on my stomach, palming it like a basketball. I flinch, his touch making me shiver. I even feel a pulse in my pussy, the warmth of his hand warming other parts of my body!

  “Yes, that! Daddy, don't tease me!”

  He smiles, “Sorry, princess.” He pulls the band away, and I regret saying anything when his hand leaves with it. That is exactly the type of butterflies I want daddy to give me everyday. I shouldn't tell him not to tease me when that's all I want from him!

  “Now my hips.” When he reaches to circle me, I stop him. “Hold on, daddy. Don't rush. We need this to be accurate.”

  I unzip and unbutton my shorts, letting them fall to my ankles.

  “What are you doing?” he asks, nervously. It's that apprehension that I crave, because it means he's afraid of what he might feel if I start turning him on.

  “We need this to be super accurate. Especially if I want a good looking, form-fitting dress. I can't let you measure me and my shorts throw it all off.” I step out of my shorts and kick them away. I wish I'd worn some of my sexy panties, my black lace thong or my peach boy shorts that make me look like I'm nude. But I didn't expect this to happen today, so all I've got on are my normal white, cotton panties.

  He clears his throat, “Hmm, okay.” He expands the band around my butt, bringing it taut around me as he finishes the circle just above my pussy. The pressure his hands lay on the bump above my slit conducts electricity, the shock making me clench in anticipation. I love his touches, even if he's not doing any of it on purpose.

  “Now my chest.”

  “Your chest?”

  “Yes,” I explain, “I need a bust size.” As he stands up, I reach down and pull my tank top over my head, revealing my plain white bra. He looks at my tits, but then looks away out of courtesy.

  But I don't want his courtesy. “Daddy, you need to look. We need an accurate measurement.”

  He nods, “Okay.” He circles the band around my back, tightening it between my tits. It almost looks like his hands are fumbling a little more with this particular measurement. He utters a number before quickly removing the band.

  “Hmm,” I hum, pretending to ponder the news. “I don't think that sounds right. It sounds off, like it's too big.”

  Then I have a fake eureka moment, snapping my fingers and nodding, “Oh, I know what's wrong.” I reach back and undo the snaps to my bra, letting it slip off my shoulders and down onto the ground.

  Daddy spins around, looking away. “What are you doing?!” he panics. His modesty is so cute, I could pinch myself at thinking up this situation.

  “Daddy,” I chastise him, “Will you stop it?! Don't make me say the word 'accurate' again. Now come on, I'm your little princess, and you said you would help me.”

  “But, baby...” he says, shaking his head.

  “Daddy,” I pout, “We need to do this.”

  He takes a deep breath and turns back toward me. He looks down at my tits, my nipples in full view for him for the first time ever, and then back at my eyes. I lift my arms up, giving him the go ahead to wrap his hands around me.

  He throws the loop over me, bringing it together between my tits, pressing them down slightly as he tightens the measure.

  “Center it, daddy. It has to be over my nipples.”

  He slides the measure down, the hard plastic rubbing over my nipples, making me bite my lip out of desire.

  “Hmm, do it tighter, daddy. I want my boobs to pop in my new dress.”

  I can see it in his eyes: lust coloring his vision as he doesn't resist my words anymore. He pulls the tape together, squeezing my tits down hard. “Like that, babygirl?”

  “Yes, daddy, that feels good.”

  “Baby, this... this feels wrong,” he says, as his grip on the measure slackens.

  “It's not wrong at all, daddy. It's what I want.”

  “But what if your mother sees this. You in the nude; me with my hands all over you.”

  “Mom's not here, daddy. And I told you, we need accuracy.”

  He shakes his head, “Not like this.”

  “Oh,” I say, making fun of him. “I'll show you why accuracy is important. Stand still.” I take the measuring tape from him. I run it along the same places he did to me: his shoulders, his chest, his stomach. Each time I cross over a mountain of muscles: his thick deltoids, his bulging pecs, his rock hard abs.

  “You can't make a good suit for a big man like you without knowing every nook and cranny of your body. Otherwise, you'd tear it to pieces just by flexing your muscles.”

  I bend down in front of him and circle it around him. I almost giggle when he flinches just like I did when the measure circles his butt. But I'm not as gentle as he is, grazing my forearm over his cock as I pretend to measure him.

  “I felt something pretty hard under there,” I chuckle.

  “Baby, what are you—“

  I grab his waistband and pull his shorts down, revealing his thick cock.

  “Princess, Jesus!” he gasps.

  “See, daddy, I know you like what we've been doing. Your penis doesn't lie, not like you do.” He's semi-erect, his cock growing by the second. Daddy doesn't move, looking down at me, waiting to see what I'll do.

  I can't believe daddy's letting me do this! I was bold before, but now I feel unstoppable.

  “See, daddy? I'll show you why accuracy is important. If I measured you right now, it'd be a lie. We wouldn't want people to think you don't have as big of a cock as you actually do.”

  I wrap one of my hands around his huge cock, feeling him pulse in my grip. The feel of his flesh in my palm is one of the most amazing sensations ever. I've never touched a
dick before, but the spongy softness, loose skin, and thickness so hard that I can barely fit my hand around it feels like nirvana.

  Daddy moans, “Oh, baby. Why are you grabbing daddy's dick?”

  “So I can make sure I measure you right.” I begin to stroke his huge cock, pulling the skin back and forth, tight and loose, running the length of him.

  “Oh shit,” he groans.

  Seeing my daddy moan in pleasure makes my pussy wet, a sudden blast of pleasure emanating through me. I'm not letting daddy go until he fucks me, right here, right now.

  I stroke him faster, coaxing his cock to harden. “Come on, daddy, I need you to get harder.”

  When daddy starts straining, he says, “Fuck, that's as hard as I go, princess.” I let go and his cock bobs up and down as daddy flexes it.

  “So lets see,” I girlishly evaluate. I bring the tape measure up and wrap it around his cock, tightening it and feeling his dick throb in my hold.

  “You're about six inches around, whatever that means.” I don't know if that's big, but daddy's dick looks very thick to me, so big that it's almost scary to think about.

  I pull it along his shaft, measuring from base to tip. “And maybe a good 8 inches long.”

  Oh my God, daddy's huge! I never imagined he'd be this big. It never crossed my mind when I fantasized about him.

  I must have been staring slack-jawed for a good long while, because daddy chuckles, “You like what you see, princess?”

  I nod, not able to vocalize my wonderment.

  “What are you going to do about it?” he teases.

  I feel my mouth start to water, as for some reason the thought of taking him in my mouth comes to the surface. I'm so inexperienced with all this stuff that I'm not even sure why I would think that. I only ever think about daddy in my pussy, not my mouth. I can't help but ask. “Can I... suck on it, daddy?”

  “Mmm, yeah, I think you should.”

  I circle his thick cock with my hand and guide it toward my mouth. As I stretch my mouth open, I realize now just how big daddy really is. I have to open to the brink of dislocating my jaw before I can get daddy inside me.