Taboo The Collection Page 7

  “You can touch it,” he urged.

  It seemed to wink at her. She reached for it hesitantly, wrapping her hand around it, mimicking him. Her slender, delicate fingers encircled its girth. He groaned and thrust gently, almost imperceptibly, into her hand. He moved her fingers up his shaft, so she was holding onto the mushroom-like tip, and showed her what to do, his hand covering hers at first, moving it up and down, again and again. He moaned when he let her hand go and she continued the motion. Excited by his response, she went faster, matching her movement to his breath.

  “That’s it, baby, god, yeah… good girl… faster,” he urged.

  Her arm was tired, so she switched hands and he shifted and threw his head back when she did. She found the tingly feeling coming back between her legs and she longed to touch herself there, but she didn’t want to stop pleasing him. She found a quick solution, pulling her wet panties aside again and stroking him against her. The tip of him rested right against her tender button, and she rubbed it there.

  “Oh no,” he moaned, looking down to see his cock pressed against his daughter’s little pussy. “No, no.” His denial was weak, and she pressed him harder against her.

  “Yes, Daddy,” she whispered, her hand slick on him. “I want to be all yours, forever and ever.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he said, his breath ragged. “What are we doing?”

  “Please, please,” she whispered, her hand tugging awkwardly at his firm flesh.

  He growled, relenting, grabbing his cock out of her hand. He positioned it at her tight, virginal hole, spreading her lips with his fingers.

  “Don’t move,” he told her sternly. She obeyed him. He was using his daddy voice. He pressed his hips upward, easing her open. She whimpered, feeling a sting, a slow burn between her legs. He let the tip rest just inside of her, putting his hands on her hips.

  “Honey,” he whispered. “This may hurt, just a bit at first… but it feels so good for Daddy… god… are you sure?” His eyes, dark with lust, convinced her. She so wanted to please him.

  “Yes, Daddy, yes,” she said. “Put it in me.”

  He used his hands to ease her hips down, sinking slowly into her flesh. Darla felt tears sting her eyes. He was stretching her so wide open! It felt as if she might tear in two! He did it slowly, inch by inch, watching her face the whole time, seeing her biting her lip, squeezing her eyes closed, and then held her still for a moment when he was as deeply into her as he could go.

  “Ahhhhhhh god, you’re so tight,” he gasped, looking down at her smooth pussy lips wrapped around his shaft. “Oh Darla, it feels so good. I have to fuck you!”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  It was she who began to move, rocking gently on top of him. His eyes widened at the sensation, jammed into that too-narrow fold that somehow was making room for his enormous hardness. She saw his hesitation, and she said something she thought might encourage him, although her face flushed and the words felt too big in her mouth.

  “Fuck me, Daddy!” She wrapped her thin arms around his neck and pressed her little breasts toward his face.

  He turned into an animal then, nipping at her breasts with his lips, thrusting up into her with abandon. Darla was taken aback at first at the violence of his movements, the way it made her teeth jar and her ponytail bounce, but she soon found herself overwhelmed with feeling, the sensation between her legs an achingly sweet cross between pleasure and pain, something beyond comprehension as her daddy’s big cock moved in and out of her tiny sheath, impaling her again and again.

  He grunted and growled, fucking her harder now. “Ahhh fuck I’m gonna come. God help me, oh, no, yessss, I’m gonna come! Darla! Fuck!”

  She held him tightly, arching her back, and she saw a splash of headlights on the ceiling above. She knew instinctively it was her mother’s car. Her heart lurched.

  “Oh Daddy, hurry, I don’t want mommy to catch us!” she urged, and he arched up to meet her with a yell, coming hard, his body convulsing. Her tiny pussy simply couldn’t hold it, and it seeped back out of her immediately, pooling on his lower belly and running down his scrotum.

  She jumped off him quickly, tugging her skirt and shirt down. “Daddy, hurry! Mommy’s home!”

  His startled look was almost comical, his cock and balls bunched up over his zipper. She could see what had impaled her still pulsing in a wet nest of black hair. He tucked everything back in, zipping himself up, and quickly buttoned his long coat.

  “Oh god, oh my god, what have we done?” He sat forward on the couch, putting his head in his hands. Darla heard her mother coming up the walkway. She moved to sit next to her father, slipping her hand into his.

  “It’s ok, Daddy,” she told him. Her heart was racing, knowing they didn’t have much time. “I love you. I won’t tell.”

  He gave her a pained look, swallowing hard and closing his eyes briefly. “I love you, too, Darla,” he told her, his voice barely a whisper.

  “I promise.” She kissed his stubbly cheek just as her mother came into the house. She slipped upstairs, letting them argue it out, why her mother hadn’t been home, how he constantly inconvenienced her like this, how she had a life too, you know. Darla sat at the top of the stairs, her panties still wet with her father’s cum. She knew she had him, now, in a way she never had before, in a way she’d always wanted. She’d wanted him completely, had watched with envy how he looked at Irene, even at baby Carrie, had ached to have him all to herself. She’d never understood his leaving, and now it felt as if he had finally come home.

  Only she heard the tremble in his voice when he called up the stairs to say goodnight to her before he left, and she eagerly called down to him, “Goodnight, Daddy!” boldy standing and lifting her skirt, pulling her panties aside so he could see her put her fingers deep inside like he had done. She was unbelievably sore there. His face reddened, but his eyes glazed over slightly and he looked at her in a way he never had before. It made her flush, too. She blew him a kiss and turned, hurrying off to her bedroom to bury her hot, red face into her pillow.

  Tina (Daddy’s Favorites)

  Cacomorphobia.

  Tina had texted the question to the instant-answer site Cha-Cha on the Internet and they came back right away with the response. Yes, there was a technical name for someone who was afraid of either becoming fat, or afraid of being around fat people. In fact, it was the same word.

  She was cacomorphobic. Her political science teacher made them cover current events every week, and Tina always brought in articles about diet, health, nutrition. The latest article she’d shared with the class claimed a new study showed girls were more afraid of being fat than they were of cancer, nuclear war, or losing their parents.

  As far as she knew, it was true. It was definitely true for her.

  Hell, cancer would be great. Didn’t it make you lose weight? As for her parents, her dad was already gone. She lived with her mother—who was also cacomorphobic, but who also happened to be pencil-slim—and her stepfather. If she could trade her parents for being thin, would she? In a heartbeat. Well, at least her mother.

  And then there was nuclear war—the ultimate weight-loss solution.

  Tina stood nude after her shower, hands on hips, looking into the beautifully carved, wooden full-length mirror her mother had set up as “incentive” in the corner of her room. She was fat, there was no doubt about it.

  Her hips were rounded, not straight and slim like her mother’s. Why, oh why, had she gotten her father’s chubby genes? Her lower belly was distended, protruding. Her thighs weren’t thighs, they were more like the thick flanks of a horse. And her bottom?

  She twisted a quarter-turn, staring at the rounded-bubble swell of her ass. Just like that old song—baby got back! And her breasts! Why couldn’t she have tiny, perfect, hard little plums? No, she had to have fat, ripe cantaloupes.

  Tina twisted back and forth, surveying, wishing she could trade her body in for another model, one that could
wear bikinis and mini-skirts and little white tank tops. She just wanted to be one of those girls who bought tiny little bras with the hooks up front instead of a fat row of three in the back.

  The funny thing was, if she closed her eyes, her experience of her body was very different than when she was standing in front of the mirror. She liked her curves in the dark, the way her belly dipped at her navel and rose again, a little hill, before the edge of her pubic hair. Her skin was smooth and soft, especially on her thighs, which were well-muscled from years of playing soccer.

  Why was it so pleasing to the touch, but so unappealing to the eye?

  She closed her eyes, remembering how Ray had put his hands up her shirt in the backseat of his Jeep, the windows as steamy as a shower mirror, squeezing and kneading her breasts like bread dough. The boys had been fascinated with her breasts since sixth grade, when they first started to bud. Ray, her first real boyfriend, had been no exception.

  But while Ray was happy to feel her up in the backseat or in her parents’ basement, he wasn’t so keen on taking her to the movies or out to dinner. When she’d accused him of not wanting to be seen with her, he denied it—but then senior prom came around and he took Susan McNaughton instead, confirming what she’d suspected.

  And if there’d been any doubt, the conversation she overheard in the girls’ bathroom cinched it. When Susan McNaughton told Liz O’Neal that Ray was taking her to prom, she said, “I heard he was going out with Tina Vale?” Susan had laughed and replied, “That heifer? Please. He’d have to rent a crane!” They had cackled together about it while Tina hid, red-faced, in the bathroom stall.

  She thought college would be better, but so far the boys had been the same—they liked to stare at her tits, but the girls who got asked out were the ones who wore skinny jeans and halter tops.

  She was ashamed of her own fantasies, of finding a boy who would take her out to dinner and compliment her on her hair and how she looked in her dress, who was proud to have her on his arm. It was true—she wanted to be eye candy.

  She kept her eyes closed, letting her hands move over the soft slope of her belly, up her ribs. Her breasts were very heavy in her hands, her coffee-colored nipples sensitive. Luann, her best friend and extremely flat-chested, had once told her girls with large breasts didn’t have as sensitive nipples as girls with little ones, but their health teacher had dispelled that myth. Thank goodness they’d been allowed to submit anonymous questions in the suggestion box!

  Her nipples were super-sensitive. She’d even made herself climax that way before, and Ray used to make her come just from sucking on them. She could suck her own if she wanted to. When she’d told him that, he’d made her prove it and she had. Smiling at the memory, she lifted her breast to her mouth, sticking her tongue out to lick it. God, that was good. She felt right between her legs.

  She rolled her fat nipple between thumb and forefinger, letting her other hand drift slowly down between her thighs. Her pubic hair was dark and curly and she parted her labia with her fingers, finding the hooded little button of her clit. How could something so small make her feel so good?

  She bit her lip, circling it—far too sensitive to touch it directly, not yet—feeling her breath coming faster, her nipples growing harder, the skin around them pursed. It made her breathless, wobbly, like her legs wouldn’t hold her.

  Better—safer—to do this in bed, she decided, opening her eyes and trying to avoid her flushed-cheek reflection in the mirror, water beading on her shoulders from her wet tangle of hair.

  That’s when she saw him standing in her doorway, his hand still on the knob, eyes wide and glassy, mouth agape.

  “Christina,” he managed, choking the word out. The look in his eyes was like nothing she’d ever seen, his gaze sweeping her body as she bent to retrieve her towel, realizing too late that she’d just given him quite a view of her behind. “I was… looking…”

  “Daddy!” She whirled around and held the towel in front of her, covering her breasts and belly. It fell only to the top of her thighs. “You’re supposed to be at work!”

  “I was…” He blinked, looking past her now, his eyes avoiding hers. He was dressed for work in a suit and tie, tall and handsome. She’d heard the girls in his office call him “Mr. Hot Lawyer” and his mother complained they all shamelessly flirted with him. “I had to get… I thought you might have seen the…”

  “The what?” she squeaked, too embarrassed and humiliated to say more. Her blood was still coursing, hot through her veins, her pussy wet and throbbing from her touch, but her pulse had done nothing but increase since he’d opened her door and surprised her.

  “Never mind.” He shook his head, looking dazed, his gaze still focused somewhere behind her. There was a dark look in his eyes, like an animal stalking prey, and it made her feel like blushing.

  Tina glanced over her shoulder and flushed, realizing the mirror revealed her completely naked from behind. When she turned and met his eyes, the look had intensified.

  “I’m sorry,” he apologized hoarsely. “Never mind.”

  “Daddy—” she whispered, but he left, shutting the door behind him.

  * * * *

  Thank god for Dropbox. She’d had a major disaster senior year when her English Lit term paper disappeared off her hard drive, and now she always, always saved her work somewhere in the cloud. Her stepfather’s laptop was going to have to do—her own was locked in Luann’s car, forgotten in the back seat, and Luann was out on a date. There was no way to get it back in time, and her French essay was due in the morning.

  Tina opened her stepfather’s Dell, waiting for the welcome screen to pop up. Her parents were due home any time—they’d gone to some charity thing her mother was involved with—but she knew her stepfather wouldn’t mind if she used his computer. She’d done it before.

  The screen that appeared surprised her. Password protected? Since when? Frustrated, Tina tapped her fingernails on the desk, trying to remember what they had used to lock all the “adult” channels on the television. She and Luann had figured it out—twice—just to see if they could. At first it was their address. Then it was her stepfather’s birthdate.

  She typed in her stepfather’s birthdate. No luck. 1234? No. Her mother’s birthday? No. Damnit. She could be here doing this all night! My birthday? She typed it in and the screen unlocked. Success!

  If the password screen had surprised her, what came up next utterly shocked her. There was a video open, with the title, “BBW Gets It Good.” BBW? What’s that? The image was stilled, but it was clear what it was—a heavyset girl with dark hair and eyes, reclining on a bed with her legs spread, her breasts cupped in her hands, while a guy with a very hard cock knelt between them.

  “What the hell?” she whispered, licking her lips and leaning in to get a closer look. She knew her stepfather watched porn—that’s why the adult pay channels had been locked—but not this kind of porn. The girl on the screen wasn’t the usual dyed-blond porn-type with long, tanned legs and fake breasts and a tiny waist. This was a real girl, about her age, she guessed—thick and curvy. Her breasts were definitely real. She could tell.

  Tina clicked the little triangle in the middle of the screen to make the video play. The sound was off, but she watched as the guy parted the girl’s chubby thighs, her pussy shaved smooth, her lips swollen, red and fat as he smacked them with the head of his cock. The girl’s head went back as he slid his cock home. She reached for him, and her breasts began to sway as he fucked her. Yep, definitely real, Tina noted.

  She found the sound and turned it up, frowning when nothing came out of the speakers. Then she noticed the ear buds on her stepfather’s big, antique desk, plugged into the laptop. She slipped them into her ears, the sound of fucking filling her head, sending a hot jolt of excitement down between her legs. She followed the sensation with her hand, cupping her mound, rubbing it over her panties—she was wearing just those and a t-shirt, ready for bed—as she watched the girl on the s
creen get pounded.

  She looks like me. She did—at least a little. Definitely her body type, and even her coloring.

  “Ohhhh Daddy, yes, fuck your little girl’s tight baby pussy!”

  Tina gaped at the screen, her breath caught in her throat. Of course, the older man fucking the younger girl on her stepfather’s computer wasn’t really the girl’s daddy. That would be illegal. And wrong. But… but somehow the thought that it might be, just the fantasy of it, made her pussy ache like it never had before.

  Tina leaned back in the big leather chair, putting one foot up on the seat so her legs were spread, rubbing her clit through her panties. Her arousal was so instantaneous, they were sticky already, the crotch damp as she tugged it aside, letting her fingers play in her wetness.

  “You like Daddy’s big cock?” the guy on the screen growled, pulling the length of it out so she could see it glistening before driving it back in, deep.

  “Yes, Daddy! Oh yes! I love your big fucking dick inside me!” The girl used a kind of sing-song voice, high and sweet, and the man groaned, grabbing onto her breasts as they swayed on her chest. Tina watched as he squeezed and kneaded them, just like Ray used to do to her. Then he rolled her over to her belly, making her get up on her hands and knees.

  “Oh god,” she whispered, watching as the girl did as she was told, putting her bottom up high, her cheek resting against the mattress. She could almost feel that thick, hard cock sliding into her like that, from behind, those big hands gripping her.

  “You’ve got a gorgeous ass, baby,” he groaned, slapping it as he began to pump himself inside her. “Just fucking gorgeous.”

  Tina flushed at his words, her clit throbbing under her fingers as she rubbed herself, watching the couple on the screen fucking harder, faster, really getting into it now. She was too, so close to coming she was quivering all over. She knew she had to hurry—her parents would be home soon and she didn’t want to be caught on her stepfather’s password-protected computer. In fact, she was so close, she probably wouldn’t have heard it if one of the ear buds hadn’t slipped from her ear at that moment.