“STEP-father,” I pointed out.
“That doesn’t matter. I’ve raised you since you were a baby, and that makes you my daughter. Please, when we get home, just pretend like this never happened.”
“Yes sir,” I mumbled, crying for like the third time that night.
Truthfully, I would never forget our kiss. I didn’t know how we would ever continue living under the same roof as if nothing had happened, as if there was no attraction between us. But when Daddy made a decision, that was the end of the discussion, and I knew not to question his judgment. It broke my heart, but I would do what he said.
We drove home in silence. It was the longest five-minute car ride of my life.
III.
I kicked off my heels, fell into bed and went to sleep without even bothering to take off my dress. What a messed-up night. I slept hard, too, having strange dreams, until I was awakened by the chirping of my phone. I groggily looked at the screen, amazed at the number of missed calls and text messages.
All from Richard.
He was waiting for me on the street in front of our house. A glance through my bedroom window revealed him just standing there, under a street lamp, watching my window. When he saw me he motioned for me to come down. I was conflicted. Even though he had treated me like a jerk, I couldn’t deny that I had feelings for him. Even so, he had no excuse for the way he had behaved at the Kozy Kumfort.
Go away, I texted.
Please, he responded. Give me a minute to talk to you …
That’s all I ask …
After that, if you want, I’ll leave you alone forever …
His last text moved me a little. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to leave me alone forever. He was a jerk, but Daddy had rejected me and now I was alone. If I lost Richard, my romantic prospects would be in shambles.
You get 1 minute, I replied, then crept from my bedroom and down the stairs in my bare feet. I probably looked like a wreck, but Daddy might notice any lights being turned on. It was after 3 o’clock in the morning, but he was a light sleeper. I turned off the burglar alarm and turned the hinge of the front door, wincing at the sound of the door creaking open. Everything seemed louder in the still, dark quiet.
Richard saw the door open and began to rush from the street, up our long driveway. I motioned for him to stay back, but he ignored me and kept coming. In the faint city lights, his expression and body language told me he was beyond agitated. I should have turned and ran back through my front door, then and there, but I did not. I thought I could reason with him. He grabbed my shoulders in his surprisingly powerful, slender arms. His hands were shaking with rage, rocking my entire body like a rag doll.
“This was supposed to be our night,” he said. “I had it all planned out. Then you had to ruin everything.”
“Richard …”
“Shut up, you dumb little bitch!”
He was shaking uncontrollably, his clenched fingers digging into my shoulders. Terribly afraid, I tried to break free from his grasp, but he held on too tightly.
“You want to run away now?” he muttered. “Go ahead and try.”
Richard let go of me with one of his hands and reared back to slap me hard across the face. His eyes were crazed with rage and he was shouting. His open palm swung down to strike. His hand was flying toward my face when its trajectory was broken by a much larger force. Daddy! Daddy grabbed Richard by the arm, then punched him in the jaw with his other fist. Richard tumbled backward, rolling across our lawn. He writhed on the ground for a moment and then looked up, realized what had happened, and stumbled in a daze toward his car.
Daddy scooped me in his arms and carried me back inside our house. The tender expression in his eyes soothed and calmed me as he carried me up the stairs, to my bedroom, where he lay me down and tucked me into bed.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I said.
“My sweet little girl,” he replied softly, his rough fingers running through my hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Daddy pulled the covers up to my chin and kissed me on the forehead, then turned to leave.
“Daddy?” I asked as he was nearing the door. “Would you let me hug you for a while, the way I did when I was a young girl? Only until I fall asleep.”
“Of course, sweetie,” he replied.
Daddy slipped under the covers and I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in the hard contours of his chest. The heat of his sturdy body warmed me. We lay facing each other, my body snuggled into his, and he draped his arm over my body, pressing me into my bed. It felt so good, so natural, to cuddle with my daddy just like I was a little girl again. No Richards in the world could ever bother me as long as Daddy held me in his embrace.
Instead of helping me fall asleep, the closeness to Daddy excited me. I loved his manly scent, like aftershave and expensive leather. I could feel his warm breath and I realized his mouth was only inches from mine. It reminded me of our kiss in the car earlier that evening. It was wonderful while it lasted. Reliving the memory, I snuggled in closer to Daddy and was surprised to feel a firm and growing bump pushing into my tummy.
Lost in a fantasy of the things that bump could do to me, I didn’t even realize that my body had begun to undulate in a rhythm of my own desire, grinding into his bump, enjoying the way it swelled against me. It was making me wet. My body seemed to change positions ever so slightly, allowing the hardness to rub against the sensitive place between my legs. My body moved against his firmness, letting it stroke the place that felt so good. I was entranced. All thoughts melted away as I focused on the pleasure.
Daddy groaned. He was obviously enjoying himself, too, his erect penis jammed against his ever-tightening suit pants.
“I want you, Daddy.”
“It’s wrong,” he grimaced, fighting to hold in his desire.
“Nothing could be more right,” I said. “You’re the only man I ever wanted.”
Overcome by passion, Daddy pulled my hair, drawing my face up to his. He kissed me firmly on the mouth, my lips parting to accept him. He strong hands groped my body, drawing up my dress so he could grab my ass and pull my tighter to him. I fumbled with the buttons of his crisp white shirt and he pulled my little dress up, over my head, exposing my body to the night. He tossed the dress aside and drank in the view of me lying beside him in the bed.
“You are so fucking sexy,” he said. “I never realized how badly I wanted you until now.”
He kissed me again, then dropped his trousers, freeing his enormous cock. It sprang free, landing against my body. I gasped at the enormity of it. I could not imagine that thing going inside my little body.
“It won’t fit,” I said, apprehension flooding my emotions.
“I’ll make it fit,” Daddy said.
He tore off my satin panties and threw me sideways on the bed, spreading my legs and drawing my body up to his face. His tongue explored the folds of my cunt. I could feel myself getting so wet as he parted me open, dipping his tongue deeper inside, caressing the area around my throbbing little clit. All my senses seemed to surge down between my legs and a ragged moan escaped my lips. My back arched, driving his tongue harder inside me. Daddy sighed with pleasure, tasting me and making me writhe with his tongue.
“Fuck me, Daddy,” I cried. “Fuck me, please.”
Daddy growled and pulled me down. He was having his way with me and throwing me around like my body was weightless. He threw apart my legs, spreading me wide, and I could feel the immensity of his weight pinning me to the bed. His rock-hard cock pushed against my wet cunt. Daddy worked the throbbing tip of his dick through the lips of my pussy. I closed my eyes shut, willing my tiny body to accept him. He pushed gently, but he was too big.
I clenched my teeth, trying not to whimper from the pain, but when he shoved himself into me he broke me wide open and I screamed. I had never felt anything like this. He stuffed me with his hard cock, the shaft penetrating slowly but irreversibly deeper into my flailing body. The
pain was mixed with a strange feeling of fullness. Although my pussy was aching, I never wanted him to stop.
His pace quickened, in and out, in and out, and he reached a hand down and toyed with my clit. The pleasure was unbearable, swelling inside me. Something was about to explode. The orgasms rocked me like waves of ecstasy. I screamed again, this time in euphoria, my pussy twitching and pulsating against the hardness of his shaft.
Daddy’s body tightened and he plunged harder, harder. I could not believe his cock was pushing so deep inside me, impossibly deep, and he groaned and tensed and the hot wet cum shot from his cock, spraying the innermost reaches of my cunt. Each thrust shot me full of his load. I accepted all of him. I was incredibly sore, but entirely satisfied. My contented body went slack, and my breathing slowed. Daddy gently drew his cock out of me, and I could feel his seed dripping from me.
He held me in his strong arms, and I could feel his heart beating through his bare chest. I had never felt so close to a man, so close to Daddy.
“Zoe,” he said, “my little girl.”
“Yes, Daddy?” I replied, my fingers toying with the hair on his powerful chest.
“I love you.”
At that moment, in Daddy’s arms, those were the only words I needed to hear. I snuggled closer, and he held me through the night.
The Brat in His Bed
Laura is an obedient little lady. She always does what she’s told, even when an older woman kicks her out of her own bed.
Now the innocent, young darling has no choice but to curl up with the alpha billionaire of the house, her provider and protector. Naive Laura never intended to give in to her forbidden desires. But now she’s in his arms, and he’s in complete control. Only he can decide whether to satisfy their deepest longings—hard and without protection.
I.
I could tell by the look on Mom’s face that she was in a terrible mood. She had just crawled out of bed and joined me and Daddy at the breakfast table, a ratty bathrobe tied around her waist. Her hair was a jumbled rat’s nest mashed on one side where it had lain heavily against her pillow.
She squinted through crusty eyes.
“What the hell are you looking at?” she asked me.
“Nothing,” I said quickly, turning back to the pancakes that Daddy had made for me. Daddy always made pancakes before leaving town on business. A way of atoning for the fact that he wouldn’t be around, and I would be stuck with his wife, my mom.
It’s strange to me how different they were, both in temperament and appearance. Mom used to be a real knockout, with long legs and perky tits, but she had really let herself go in the past few years. Daddy had kept himself as trim and fit as ever. At 43 years old, he could have easily passed for his early 30s, if you ignored the prematurely silver-white hair on his head and eyebrows. I personally loved his hair. It made him look powerful and wise, like the Fortune 500 CEO that he was.
Daddy was dressed impeccably in tailored suit pants and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His dark suit jacket was draped over the back of his chair at the kitchen table as he flipped pancakes for Mom, who sat grouchily slumped in her chair across from me.
“I slept like crap last night,” Mom said.
“I’m sorry, dear,” Daddy replied.
“It’s all your fault, you know,” she continued, gathering steam. “You buy the most expensive mattress in the store, but you can’t even do that right. My back feels like it’s about to snap in two.”
Mom knew good and well that she is the one who insisted on the oh-so-special mattress that Daddy bought for her, but Daddy doesn’t argue. When I was younger and Mom went on one of her tantrums, Daddy would often yell back, standing up for himself. It had been years since their last real argument, though. It was obvious to me that Daddy didn’t care what Mom said. He got that look in his eyes like he was tuning her out, that nothing she said mattered. I knew that he only stuck around for my sake, and to think I wasn’t even his real, biological daughter.
Mom had gotten pregnant from some dirtbag who screwed her a few times in the back seat of a Toyota Corolla. He bolted as soon as she told him she was expecting. The man who would eventually become my stepfather was Mom’s boss at work. He was her shoulder to cry on, her support. When I was born, he was the only person in the room who wasn’t on the medical staff. He was the first person to hold me.
He told me about it once, the first time he saw me. He cupped my tiny body in his hands and marveled at me, my wiggling toes and fingers, the fine hair that had already begun to grow on my head. I opened my eyes and looked at him, not crying, and he knew then and there that he wanted to be the man who raised me.
A week later, he proposed to Mom. Two months later, they were married. Two years later, the company Daddy had founded went public, and we were millionaires. We’d never have to worry about money again. Everything we ever needed or wanted would be provided for.
I couldn’t understand why Mom treated Daddy so badly, why she was always lashing out at him.
Daddy set a plate of pancakes in front of Mom. She smeared on butter and drizzled the pile with hot syrup.
“And now you’re leaving us again,” Mom said between bites of the piping-hot pancakes. “Always leaving. Always gone on some business trip.”
Daddy didn’t respond. It’s like he didn’t even hear her. He turned to me, instead.
“You look great today, kiddo,” he told me. “Better not let any boys see you. They’ll be begging for your phone number.”
Daddy’s compliment made me smile and blush. I knew he was just being nice and giving me a little self-esteem boost. There were no romantic prospects on my horizon. I had not even been on a real date since my high school boyfriend dumped me shortly after his graduation ceremony. He was heading off to college, and I was entering my senior year. A year later, it still hurt to think about our breakup. He was having the time of his life at a big university, a notorious party school, while I stayed home watching “Glee” reruns in my pajamas.
In less than two months I would be heading off to college, too, as a hopelessly inexperienced eighteen-year-old virgin. I would surely be the only girl in the dorms who had never known the taste of a cock in her mouth, or felt a man’s stiff rod stretching her pussy. I couldn’t even imagine what a penis would feel like, although I gave myself a little tingle just thinking about it.
My parents were eating their pancakes at the breakfast table, completely unaware of the naughty thoughts racing through my brain. How embarrassing. My own pancakes were getting cold. I was lost in thought, but Daddy brought me back to reality when he got up from the table and nuzzled my long, brown hair.
“You be a good girl, Laura,” he said. “Take care of your Mom for me. I’ll be home in a day or two, as soon as I close the deal in San Francisco.”
He leaned over and planted a kiss on my forehead, then leaned in to kiss Mom, too. She turned away, and his kiss landed on her cheek. Daddy didn’t seem to notice her rudeness. He squeezed my shoulder, grabbed his suit coat and briefcase, and the next thing I knew, the door was shutting behind him. And I was alone with Mom.
“Take my plate to the sink, would you?” she asked, stuffing the last little bits of pancake in her mouth. “I couldn’t possibly do the dishes with my back aching like it is.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” I said.
Mom leaned back in her chair and belched as I carried our dirty plates to the sink.
“Bring me those Oreos, would you?” she asked.
I handed her the cookies. She carried them into the living room and turned on the TV. Mom could spend hours watching “Law & Order” and all the CSI shows.
After finishing the dishes, I went to my room, where I spent most of the day listening to music and texting my friend Allison, who was in the midst of a major life crisis because her boyfriend was slow to respond to her latest Snapchat.
WTF? she kept texting. WTF??
When it was time for bed, I slip
ped out of my T-shirt and shorts and tossed them into my dirty-clothes bin, and I stood in front of the mirror in my bra and panties. I studied my body for signs of imperfections. I was thin as a stick, and my tiny boobs were practically nonexistent, like two little hills gently rising from a flat landscape. I reached behind my back and unhooked my bra. My little brown nipples stood erect from my white chest. Some of my classmates had developed bigger tits than these when we were, like, 11 years old.
I touched my breast and played with my nipple, watching myself in the mirror. I wondered what it would be like for a man to touch me like this. I was getting wet until I thought of my ex-boyfriend. That was a sore subject.
Putting the ex out of my mind, still teasing my firm little nipple, my other hand drifted down to my panties. My fingers slid below the waistband, to my delicate mound, and I caressed myself above the fabric, tracing the outlines of my folds. My eyes closed, and a soft murmur escaped my lips. As my fingers wandered, so did my mind. It felt like being in a dream, like the fingers touching me, teasing me, belonged to someone more experienced, a man who could guide me and teach me.
Too Big Taboo Bundle: Naughty Brats, Forbidden First Time, Man of the House Page 17
