21 Taboo Tales

by Robin Pressley

  I smile and squeeze him with my arms. Then I cry out as he works himself deeper and deeper into me with slow, cautious strokes.

  The head of his cock had a bit of give to it, but his shaft is as hard as stone, and it’s stretching my tight little pussy to the very limit. Even with all that lubrication going on there, it’s an incredibly tight fit. I feel like he might split me in two with his ginormous dick.

  “Does it hurt, babygirl?” Dane asks stroking.

  “A little, Daddy, but I’m okay,” I pant.

  He kisses my forehead tenderly and continues to slide into me.

  He’s fucking into me with increasingly longer and deeper strokes. I look down between my legs and watch in amazement as his huge penis disappears inside me.

  “Breathe, babygirl, breathe,” Dane instructs me.

  I let myself relax and breath deeply. I let myself open up even more for my sexy Daddy.

  And finally, finally, his cock slides home, penetrating me all the way to my epicenter. His smooth heavy balls touching my ass, which is slathered with the natural lube pouring out of me.

  All the pain disappears, replaced by the most incredible sensation of fullness and pure bliss.

  “I can feel you, Daddy,” I gasp. “I can feel you behind my belly button!”

  “Good girl,” he says, caressing me. “Good girl.”

  Dane draws his pelvis back until just the tip is still inside me, then he plunges back inside, filling me up completely again.

  “Oh Daddy,” I whine, “Daddy it feels so good!”

  He does it again. And again. It’s really happening, I realize. I’m not a virgin anymore. I’m really getting fucked. And not just by any old dick. I’m getting fucked by the raw cock of the man I love.

  “Oh fuck, princess, your tight little pussy feels so perfect.”

  I buck my hips into him as he thrusts, letting him fuck his cock even deeper inside me. I’ve never known fullness like this.

  “Harder,” I cry. “Fuck me harder, Daddy!”

  My whole body jolts as his cock slams into me. He cradles my head to hold me steady underneath him as he begins to pound me harder and harder. He’s keeping the tempo slow and steady, but each thrust is rough and forceful.

  “You’re so tight, angel,” Dane moans against my ear.

  My hungry little pussy is getting tighter and tighter as that delicious tension builds inside me. My pussy walls are swelling again and clutching Dane’s cock like it’s trying to hold on for dear life.

  I beg him for more, my words coming out between his jolting thrusts.

  “Harder…Daddy…Harder.”

  His curved cock is stroking right across my G-spot, and waves of ecstasy are tingling through my core.

  “Deeper…Daddy…Deeper,” I beg.

  He’s really pounding me now, his hot throbbing cock penetrating so deep inside me. His balls are clapping my wet skin with each plunge. He’s grunting like a wildman as he wraps his arms around me tight and fucks me and fucks me.

  That feeling is welling up deep within me, expanding to the point of bursting.

  “Daddy,” I whimper under his massive frame. “Daddy I’m gonna cum!”

  “That’s right, angel,” Dane breathes in my ear. “Cum around Daddy’s hard cock.”

  I cry out as the first wave of the orgasm blasts me. It’s as if all of the muscles in my body are tensing and relaxing is waves. My hips buck and twitch, and my body spasms with insane pleasure. My toes curl. My fingernails bite so hard into Dane’s shoulders that bright beads of blood appear.

  “Daddy, I’m cumming!” I scream.

  Then Dane let’s out a deep animal bellow—a roar so strong it rattles the pictures on the walls. He plants his cock all the way to my core, and I feel the liquid warmth of his release.

  He’s cumming. His raw, naked cock is cumming inside me, spurting thick gouts of semen into my depths and filling me with his seed.

  One final shiver of bliss, and he collapses on top of me spent and exhausted. Underneath him, I feel so small, so safe.

  “Kitty,” he exhales, “Oh fuck, Kitty.”

  I stroke my soft cheek against his rough stubble, rubbing him like a little kitty cat.

  Dane rolls over on his back and pulls me on top of him, his dick still planted deep inside me.

  “Kitty, princess, you have the most perfect pussy in the whole world, baby.”

  I can’t help but smile at that and cover his handsome face in a flurry of kisses.

  “How you doing, sweetness?” Dane smiles, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “Are you kidding?” say between pecks. “That felt better than I could have ever imagined.”

  I kiss away a drop of blood where I scratched him with my nails.

  “But I think I hurt you a little,” I say.

  “Don’t be silly,” he chuckles and claims my mouth again in a deep, sensuous kiss. His tongue penetrates me, just as his still-hard cock is penetrating me between my legs.

  “But Daddy,” I whisper onto his lips. “We didn’t use any protection. What if I, you know…”

  He shushes me with his thumb, stroking it along my lower lip.

  “Don’t worry, Kitty. Whatever happens, I will always take care of you,” he says. “I’ll always take care of my little girl.”

  Smiling, I lay my head against the fur of his chest and listen to his beating heart.

  This is the best night of my life.

  Sexual Competition

  1. MEGYN

  “Megyn! Hey, Megyn, back here!”

  Nice, Celia has grabbed the best booth for us in the back of the coffee shop. I weave my way between the tables and chairs. The coffee shop is pretty crowded as usual, mostly with other college students. I try without much luck to avoid bumping people with my butt as I go by.

  Celia must have gotten here pretty early to snag such a good spot for us. But that’s Celia—always on the ball. I see that she’s been working on something while she’s been waiting.

  “Hey Celia,” I say with a grin as I squeeze into the booth, which is admittedly a bit of a tight fit for me. “Whatcha working on?”

  She props her chin on her palm and gives me a dreamy smile.

  “It’s a paper for Professor Skinner,” she says.

  I can’t help but giggle a little, because I know that Celia, like most of the female psych majors, has an enormous crush on Professor Skinner. It’s understandable—he’s a total hottie in a nerdy, older guy kind of way. He’s also a bit absent-minded and oblivious to the attention he gets from his female students, but Celia’s been trying her darnedest to change that. She’s a brilliant student, but she’s gotten into the habit of making lots of mistakes in the first drafts of her papers, just so she can spend extra time with the professor during his office hours.

  “Any progress?” I ask her.

  “Well, he told me I looked nice today!” She gushes. From the way she says it, I can tell she’s been waiting all day to tell someone. I swear, Celia is so freaking cute. Out of all of our friends, Celia’s definitely my bestie. Maybe it’s because she’s a psych major, but she’s just such a good listener and totally gets me.

  “How about you, Megyn?” she asks.

  “Oh, you know, same old, same old.”

  I don’t have have any budding romances or even girlish crushes to share with her, since the art department is completely devoid of hottie professors for me to pine after. The closest thing I have to a sex life right now is sketching nude models once a week.

  “Are Brit and Luna coming?” I ask. I figured they would already be here too since I’m a little bit late.

  As if on cue, I hear Brit’s sing-song voice come wafting over my shoulder.

  “Hello, ladies!” She coos. Below her aviator sunglasses, her cheeks are flushed with a rosy glow.

  “Sorry I’m late, gals. Tommy just wouldn’t let me get away,” she says as she glides in beside me. In a softer, conspiratorial voice she adds, “That guy has got a
fucking talented tongue.”

  “Wait,” Celia laughs, “I thought you were with Bobby?”

  Brit props her aviator shades up on her head as she smacks her gum. She rolls her eyes in an exaggerated way.

  “Celia, Bobby was last week, babe.”

  Brit is totally boy crazy. She’s not kidding—she literally has a different hot guy every week. I swear she’s already banged every good-looking upper-classman at our university, and now she’s working her way through the studs in the new freshman class.

  “So where the hell is Luna?” She asks, pretending to be annoyed.

  “I don’t know,” I say with a shrug.

  “Go figure,” Celia sighs. “She’s the one who gets us all together for a meeting, and she’s the last one to show.”

  While we’re waiting for Luna to finally arrive, we all order some drinks. Brit gets an iced coffee with Stevia. She says iced is better because it makes your body burn calories. I don’t know if that’s true, but I order the same thing, even though I’d really like something sweet and creamy. Celia doesn’t give a flip and orders a caramel latte, and the whole time I’m eyeing it, wishing I had ordered that instead.

  While we’re waiting for Luna to arrive, Brit regales us with all the dirty details of her hookup with Tommy, and all the different positions he banged her in. It makes me super jealous, I’m not gonna lie. But it also makes me kinda hot thinking about it. I’m glad when Luna finally shows up, otherwise I might have soaked through my shorts.

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry, and sorry,” Luna wheezes as she plops her enormous backpack down on the seat and slides into the booth with us. “I had a cuh-razy day at the lab today. Total fucking shit show…”

  She goes into a long diatribe about the goings-on at the lab on campus where she works as a research assistant. Luna is like a freaking genius. Usually only graduate students get the research assistantship positions, but Luna is so bright they made an exception for her. Seriously, I just know she’s going to invent something amazing one day. Just wait, in like fifty years they’re going to make a special Google Doodle in her honor.

  “Anyway Luna, are you going to tell us what this is all about or not?” Brit interrupts her, since most of the stuff Luna is venting about it going over all our heads.

  “Right,” Luna says with a wily grin. “I want to show you guys the little project I’ve been working on lately.”

  She digs into her oversized backpack and comes up with four small, flat boxes. Each one is not much bigger than the palm of her hand. She distributes them around the table—one box for each of us.

  “What is this?” Celia asks.

  “Well, open it up and see,” Luna says, barely able to contain her excitement.

  Ever fearless, Brit pops her box open first. Celia and I follow suit.

  “Um…” Brit stares down at the contents of the box. “Luna, what the fuck is this? It looks like a bootleg Fitbit.

  Brit’s description is pretty accurate. Inside each box is a small black bracelet made of a rubbery material. The only feature on the bracelet is a tiny little LED light.

  “Well,” Luna says, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I don’t particularly appreciate the ‘bootleg’ part, but you are on the right track.”

  Celia and I are both examining our bracelets while Brit is slipping hers onto her wrist.

  “Okay,” I say, “So what does it do Luna?”

  Luna puffs herself up proudly and declares, “Ladies, I present to you the Erotometer.”

  “The Eroto-whatsit?” Brit says, twisting her wrist to look at the device.

  “The Erotometer,” Luna says, a bit disappointed that we all don’t automatically know what the heck she’s talking about. “It’s a device that records personal sexual activity. I guess you could say it’s kind of like a Fitbit for getting off.”

  Celia scratches her head. “You mean it keeps track of how many orgasms you have?”

  “Well, kind of,” Luna says, “But there’s more to it than that. I mean, not all orgasms are created equal, right?”

  Brit and Celia are both nodding, so I nod with them, pretending like I know. The truth is I’ve never had an orgasm, but my friends don’t need to know that embarrassing tidbit about me.

  “Okay,” Luna continues, “So the Erotometer gathers information from the body’s electrical impulses, pheromones, and other physiological data to measure erotic energy—not just how many orgasms you’re having, but also how big they are. Like, you might flick your bean before you go to sleep, but that’s not going to register as high a measurement as, say, getting wet-blasted by the captain of the football team. Make sense?”

  “Oh my god,” Brit gasps, “Luna, you’ve invented the Clitbit.”

  “Erotometer,” Luna says dryly.

  “I don’t know,” Celia says as she slips her bracelet onto her wrist. “Clitbit does kind of have a nice ring to it.”

  Luna ignores her and goes on with her explanation.

  “The design is pretty simple. This green light here blinks whenever an orgasm is recorded. All of the data is sent to a computer in my lab.”

  Brit gives her a naughty look and gestures to everyone around the table.

  “So now you can track our sexual activity?”

  “Basically,” Luna says with a smirk. “As long as you’re wearing the bracelet, I’ll be able to see who’s cumming and how much.”

  “Oh this is too good!” Brit laughs. Of course she likes the idea. Heck, we all know how much she cums already since she pretty much gives us a play-by-play of every hot guy she fucks.

  But I’m getting a little nervous. It would be one thing for my friends to find out I’m still a virgin. But the reality is that my situation is even worse.

  You see, I really can’t cum. I’ve tried and tried by myself, but I just can’t do it.

  “Okay,” Brit says, taking the lead as usual. “Here’s what we’re going to do, ladies—we’re going to have a little race. A competition. We will all wear the bracelets for three weeks. Once a week, Luna will review our data, and we’ll see who’s been cumming like a champ.”

  “Hey,” Luna butts in. “Don’t forget, this is my invention, okay? Hm, but I kinda like that idea. At the very least it will be a good way for me to gather some preliminary data. All right, I’m in.”

  Celia examines the bracelet on her wrist and giggles.

  “Oh fine,” she says. “Count me in too. There’s no way I’m going to win, but just out of curiosity, what’s the prize for our competition.”

  Brit winks at her. “I think this is one of those situations where winning is a reward in itself.”

  “Good point!” Celia chuckles.

  Then they all turn toward me, and my heart stops cold.

  “Well, Megyn,” Luna says, “Aren’t you going to put your Erotometer on?”

  Shit. I was hoping if I stayed quiet they might just forget I was over here. This is my worst nightmare. My friends are all going to find out that I’m not getting any action. Zilch. Zero. Not even from myself. They’re all going to learn my secret—that I’m an orgasmless freak.

  “I don’t know guys,” I say, “I mean it seems kinda weird…”

  “Oh come on!” Brit goads me.

  “Yeah, do it Megyn,” Luna says, “It will really help my research!”

  “Just give it a try,” Celia says, “It’s just for fun. It’s not like we’re going to actually see you doing it, you know?”

  That’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried that they’re going to see I’m not doing it—that I can’t do it. Not even by myself.

  Suddenly our booth in the coffee shop seems tight and claustrophobic. My impulse is to run for it, but Brit and Celia are on either side of me, so I can’t escape. The clatter of coffee cups and people talking in the background seems incredibly loud now. I feel like I’m on the verge of a panic attack.

  My friends are all staring at me, their eyes goading me to say yes.

&n
bsp; “Fine,” I give in, “I’ll do it. I’m in.”

  I slip the bracelet over my wrist, and the other girls smile.

  This is gonna be embarrassing.

  2. EVAN

  I've just gotten home from the office, and I'm sipping a beer in front of the TV when I hear the front door slam. Megyn is home, and she looks gorgeous as always. My heart clenches like a fist at the sight of her amazing body.

  “Hey Megyn,” I say, trying to conceal the tremble of raw lust in my voice. “How’s it going?”

  My feelings for her are totally inappropriate. There’s no way I could ever act on them. I mean, she’s totally off-limits.

  “Hi Evan,” she says, shucking her backpack off her shoulder and plopping down next to me on the couch. “Oh you know, not bad.”

  I can tell from her voice that something is bothering her though.

  Megyn and her mom live with me. Her mom, Jess, is one of my oldest friends. She is not my girlfriend. I mean, Jess is gorgeous, no doubt, but we just don’t see each other that way—we’ve been friends for way, way too long. To me, Jess is just one of my buds. Who just happens to be a woman. And who just happens to live with me.

  And who just happens to have an excruciatingly sexy daughter.

  Jess’s ex-husband—Megyn’s father—was a real piece of shit. He left them when Megyn was still young. Jess was having a hard time both emotionally and financially after that, so I let them move in with me for the time being.

  The thing is, “the time being” gradually turned into years, and finally we just decided to stick with the arrangement, even after Jess got back on her feet. I’ve loved having them around—especially Megyn.

  Well, until recently that is.

  I don’t know exactly how it happened, but at some point, Megyn went from being an adorable little girl to a ridiculously sexy young woman. She’s just so comfortable and used to living with me that she doesn’t think anything of parading around the house in her skimpy little pajama shorts and tight tops. She has no idea the effect she has on me—and on my poor, aching cock.

  I thought I would finally get some relief when she went off to college. But no, she decided to go to the college here in town. They have a great art department, so it was a good fit for her, and she could continue to live at home to save money. I offered to help pay the dorm fees if she wanted to go to school in a different city, but she had her mind made up.