Daddies Taboo

by Iona Nixon

  The result is, he gets ready for work, we have some coffee and toast together, and he leaves. I stay long enough to shower and get cleaned up and dressed and then I head off to my job. It's interesting. I've been frustrated for a couple months, wanting to resume a regular sex life. Now I've had about the best day of sex ever, which sure solves my earlier yearnings, but now I'm going to have to be frustrated for a few more days.

  For the next three days I saw him for an hour and a half each afternoon, giving him his therapy. We talked a lot. He let me know he wanted to be with me more often and I let him know that I wanted to be with him. I learned that he's also an EMT, needs to take regular refresher courses to keep his rating and that he's also started taking some management courses in the hopes of moving up some levels in the fire department. I let him know that I was going to start on my master's degree and that I needed to find some organized recreational sports leagues so I could keep active and fit, perhaps join a gym. Anyway, he was going to get off work at 7 am on Saturday. Weird hours. So at 7:15 am I was parked in front of his place waiting for him to arrive.

  I see his car turn in and head back to the car ports so I get out of my car and walk up to the door to his apartment. In a moment, he comes around the corner. When he sees me he gives me a big grin and puts his arms around me and kisses me. Seriously kisses me, tongue and everything. I respond and we kiss for a while. "Do you need a shower or to take a nap?" I ask.

  "No, why?" he says as he's unlocking his door.

  "Because I was looking for a reason for you to get naked," I say as I follow him in. "I'd like us both naked as soon as possible." He just grins at me and starts taking his clothes off. So do I. In no time we're both naked and his arms are around me and we're kissing again. In another minute, I'm on my knees making love to that monster of his, the sexiest cock in the world. I love his cock, love to hold it, look at it, lick it, taste it, suck it, deep throat it and then start all over and then over and over again. Then he lets me know how much he loves my body, sitting me on the couch, him kneeling between my legs, giving me an orgasm that's probably even better than the one I just gave him.

  This is definitely the sexiest day of my life. As we're about to go to sleep late at night, Greg tells me that we fucked a dozen times. He means his penis was in me to completion a dozen times, we often changed position a couple times during the fuck. He tells me this as if he's a martyr, that he's been called to perform way beyond normal, that this is twice and probably three times as often as he's ever fucked before. To me, a dozen times over roughly sixteen hours doesn't seem that demanding. Even with time off to eat lunch and dinner, it's not even a fuck per hour.

  Of course, each of those fucks was proceeded by me sucking him, to get him hard if for no other reason. So, at maybe ten minutes each time that means I sucked his lovely huge cock for a couple hours total. I'm also aware that the last half dozen or more times he didn't get as fully hard as he was at the beginning. He was hard enough but a little limber. He slipped out of my mouth often and he slipped out of my vagina often. But he was hard enough to fill me. I was pretty lubricated and aroused so he didn't need to force his way through much tightness so his limber cock still performed o.k. Almost every one of those fucks was also proceeded by his fondling and sucking on my breasts and licking and fingering my pussy. I think he loves my body as much as I love his.

  We fucked in positions I'd never tried before. Him on top, me on top, doggy from behind. I'd never done cowgirl before, on top but facing away from him and I'll admit that his cock reaches places it normally doesn't when I'm in that position. We also did it almost from the side several ways. It's amazing how many positions you can get in and have his cock fill my vagina. Those are when he'd slip out, though, and I spent a lot of time getting him back into me. Just sitting on him worked the best as we got toward sleep time. I'm still hungry for more and I think he's just allowing me to fuck him because he wants to please me. I don't think he's actually very horny anymore so we finally go to sleep.

  The nest morning I wake up ahead of him. I think sex turns me on, it seems to wear him out. But he's not that worn out, big old Frankie is up and hard. Hard like the first time, stiff as a pole. I play with him and suck him and when Greg wakes up I climb on him and we fuck until I cum. Then we take a shower, feeling each other as we wash each other. He's soon on his knees, his tongue up into my pussy, my one leg up over his shoulder to give him room. He's great at this, I love the way he makes me feel. Then he's standing up, sliding that monster into me. I get my legs up around him. He leans me against the wall and we fuck and fuck until we both cum. Perfect way to start a day.

  We get dressed and go out to breakfast. A big ham and eggs breakfast. As we eat, I have a thought. "This is Sunday. I grew up going to church every Sunday morning. Do you go to church?"

  He looks surprised. "I hadn't thought of it but, no, I don't. And I don't know why. I grew up going to church with my family, too."

  "Me, too. I haven't been to church on my own since I started college. You know, I used to complain some time but really I liked it."

  "Yeah, it makes you think of things bigger than just you."

  "Yeah. I guess I should think about starting going again."

  "Me, too."

  We then went to a complex of fields where all sorts of teams play soccer. Greg thought we might run into a team of women my age and learn about what sort of leagues there are. We didn't see any adults, there were just lots and lots of younger people. Wrong day, I guess. We went by a gym where Greg plays basketball with other fire fighters fairly often but again, there were no women's teams playing. I thanked him for thinking of me and kissed him and we both got fairly horny and decided to head back to his place.

  We get naked and eat each other and then fuck and fuck until we both finally cum. We lay there fondling one another and kissing and I start licking and sucking Frankie, wanting to get him up and hard again. I really love working on Greg's cock. Playing with it, licking it, sucking on it, then playing with it some more, just enjoying everything about it. I tell him again as I have often how much I love his cock. It's so big and firm and clean looking, like a perfect representation of sex. So he maneuvers me around until he can lick and suck on my pussy and finger me and tell me how much he loves my pussy. So we put them together and he starts to just pound into me as fast and hard as he can and it's just perfect.

  It'd be great if we could both cum at the same time but we never do. If I cum first he can just keep fucking me. But when he cums, even if I have earlier, I'm left not there yet and wanting more. Which means I try to get him up again so we can keep going and then everything repeats. We can't just stop because I cum if he's still erect and pumping into me. We have to stop, apparently, when he cums even if I'm almost there again. We talk about this and maybe if we work on it we'll finally solve it. But in the meantime, it means we just have to keep on fucking. And we do.

  For all the next week we fuck whenever we have a chance. I come to his apartment, then he goes back on a long three days and we can't and then we can again. His therapy sessions end. He's received all the therapy that's scheduled for him so we can't see each other afternoons. I suggest that I should move in with him, which he thinks is the greatest thing that's ever happened. And I do. I pay one months rent ahead as a form of giving notice to my room mate that I'm moving. We both work at the same hospital/clinic so I don't want to make an enemy over a relatively small amount of money. I'm fairly sure that my moving is going to cause her to move in with her boy friend but we'll wait and see.

  I claim to Greg that I moved in just so I could keep giving him physical therapy but the truth is he's either completely back to what he was before the accident or over 90% there and really doesn't need any more. Besides, all of our physical activity is in the bedroom. Well, some other places at times but mostly in the bedroom.

  So he starts saying we should get married, which is what he suggested the first time I had sex with him. I tell him to just wait
. At first, all I wanted from him was sex. Just his gorgeous cock. I still want that. But I think maybe I want all of him. We need to see how we get along together. I also tell him that marriage means a house somewhere and then babies and the whole family thing with lots of dependence on each other and is he really ready for that because I don't think I am. The result is he starts licking my pussy and sliding a couple fingers into me and that's exactly what I want anyway.

  . . . . . . . . . . .

  I've now been his room mate for three months. A lot of it is very good. I mean, we're both there, sleeping together, so we have sex when we go to bed and sex when we wake up. But we've also got busier. I'm taking a class each week in the evenings and have found some women's leagues so I'm playing basketball on weekends. He has to take classes, too and his work is still that odd schedule of long days and then off for a couple days. So, today, he's off. I have to stay a half hour or so at the hospital where I work to finish up some reports. He surprises me by showing up, he got a buddy to drive him over when their basketball game ended. So, when I finish we walk together to the employee parking lot.

  As we walk I say to him, "We don't have enough sex." What I mean is, we have sex often and I love it. But we don't seem to have time for the sexual marathons we once had when we ate each other and fucked for hours and hours. He just looked at me and didn't say anything but as we get to my car, which is parked in rows of other cars, he puts his arms around me and pulls me against him and kisses me. I kiss back. As we continue kissing, he slides his hand up my leg, pushing my skirt up until he gets his hand on my butt. He starts feeling and massaging my butt as we kiss.

  Then he really surprises me. He drops to his knees, and holding my skirt up with his head and shoulders, starts kissing my pussy through my panties. He gets hold of my panties and starts pulling them down. He has to lean back for a moment as he gets them all the way down. I step out of them with one foot. As my leg is bent, he takes it and puts it up over his shoulder and gets his face back to my pussy and starts seriously licking me. This is just like he does in the shower some times and I enjoy it a lot. He's really good at this, it's as if he really loves my pussy and is hungry for it.

  I look around. We're in a parking lot amidst hundreds of other cars. But there's no one around. The shift changed at least a half hour ago and it's not likely anyone is going to be coming into this part of the lot for hours. Meantime, he's slurping like mad, fingering me and licking me and sucking on my clit and I can't help but make some noises as I reach a small orgasm. I'm sure he can taste it as I emit some fluid. He straightens up, still holding my leg up and aims his lovely big cock into me and starts fucking me, pressing me against the car.

  I love this. He's really pumping into me, filling me, arousing me more and more. I can hear myself grunting with each stroke into me but neither of us say anything he just continues to fuck me. We go on for several minutes. It's great. Then I can feel him push into me extra hard and hold it as his cock starts jerking a little, shooting off into me. We have our arms around one another and we hold each other and kiss.

  As we finally break apart and I get my panties pulled back up to help hold some of his cum in me, we get in the car, me behind the wheel. I lean over and kiss him. "You can do that any time, I loved it," I tell him. "But I bet Security is going to love seeing what the cameras covering the lot will show." I back out of the space and start driving away. "What I meant before is, we never seem to have time anymore for marathon sex. We have sex, like we just did, but it's always just once and we move on. Mostly, I'm still interested in more. Like right now, I'm turned on and you're done. I realize we both work and go to class and have sports and we don't have a lot of time so maybe I'm just going to have to remember that one day when we fucked forever. But I'd love to do it some more."

  Greg grins at me. "Why not stop and buy something take-out. We can go back to our place and get naked. It's, what, almost six o'clock? We can have sex for another six hours maybe. Part way through we can rest long enough to eat whatever we buy now to take back with us. It might not be the whole marathon but we can get in a mini one."

  And that's what we do. As soon as we're in the door, we both get naked. I kneel down in the living room and get that huge, delicious cock into my mouth. I play with it, feel it, suck on it, lick it, suck on his balls, suck his cock some more, deep throat him a couple times. I do everything I love doing, finally bobbing back and forth fast and fully taking him into my throat until he cums. Then I'm on the couch, him between my legs, feeling my breasts and sucking on my nipples and then moving down to work on my pussy some more. Just as I would interrupt sucking him to tell him how much I love his cock, he stops every once in a while to tell me what a delicious pussy I have, and then when I finally cum, he moves up a little and gets his cock into me.

  From the living room we move to the bedroom. We hold one another and kiss and feel each other and tell each other how much we love one another. I've changed, I am telling him I love him by now. Then I suck on him to get him fully hard and climb on him. I fuck him for a few minutes and he rolls us over so he can fuck me. After we both cum, we decide to take that break and eat the Subway sandwiches we'd bought. It's not a gourmet meal but it will give us enough energy to get back at each other again. In fact, after we eat Greg has me sitting on the kitchen table as he eats me some more, his dessert he says, and then fucks me and then we head back to the bedroom.

  It takes a little work from me but I get him up again and we fuck and fuck, changing positions. I have one orgasm after another and he just stays hard, fucking me like mad. Then we take a shower. He repeats what he did to me in the parking lot and we end up back in bed, falling asleep with his cock still inside me. Lovely, lovely evening.

  . . . . . . .

  We get married. Both families coming to the wedding ceremony. We get the house in the suburbs. Then two children, first a girl and then a boy. Ellen is now three, Curt is one and a half. I say to Greg, "We don't have sex enough." Well, we don't. Our days are crammed full. Unless you have children you don't know how they take over your life. Fortunately, they go to bed early enough that we manage, although we're both tired, to eat each other a little and fuck most nights before sleeping. I still love that monster cock of his and he seems to still love my body. So what we have to do is every couple weeks find some one to take the kids for a day, once for a whole weekend, so we can get in what passes for a sexual marathon today. I think I'm as horny as ever, always wanting more. And Greg still complains, smiling, that I'm wearing him out, but manages to get Frankie up often enough to fuck me and fuck me and I love it all.

  The End.

  Devil's Thrill Sonata

  Che un sogno sono stati i miei musica.

  "What a dream my music was."

  I.

  The celebrated Armenian cellist, Tsovinar, was rambling adventitiously about the city, on a bright, chill afternoon in late October. She was to perform, once again that night, at one of the great concert hall which brought the city so much artistic acclaim. According to her usual fixed ways she was amusing herself with people watching, gazing into shop windows, thinking of anything but the approaching dull work that her job had turned her passion into. Not that she was nervous, but she found she came to her work all the fresher for an hour or two of blissful self-indulgence, turning off her mind the way a drunk finds release in the first highly anticipated drink of the morning, or the onanist her middle finger.

  Wandering away from the busiest street of the city, she found herself in a quiet thoroughfare, throwing away the lipstick-stained butt of one stubby cigarette and produced yet another. She has been bothered by a trouble with deep breathing all her life, now her doctor had recently recommended a curious new medicine, smoked, in the form of New World tobacco. "Cigares de Joy cure Asthma," the tin box the cigarettes resided in declared, "Joy's Cigarette's afford immediate relief in case of asthma, wheezing, winter cough, hay fever, and, with a little perseverance, effect a permanent cure. Universal
ly recommended by the most eminent physicians and medical authors in France and Britain. Agreeable to use, certain in their effects, harmless in their actions, they may be safely smoked by ladies and children everywhere." Ladies and children certainly were and it did seem to not only help her lungs, but at times, steady her hand. Tsovinar marveled at the age she lived in, modern medicine could do anything.

  No, not everything. Of late she had been having what her doctor referred to as "female night hysteria;" waking from mystifying dreams full of nervousness, a curious wetness between the legs, muscle spasms, shortness of breath. No one could explain what it all meant, though they did agree she should refrain from too many mentally taxing tasks, avoid thinking of anything indecent and pray before bed. Perhaps it was the indecent part that troubled her so. Even while wearing eyelet, closed-crotch drawers under her skirt, having to open her legs so obscenely wide simply to rest the cello between them made her feel ... vulgar.

  But today she would not think about that. Today she was out for her afternoon constitutional, a dawdling walk. As it was part of her rule, she tried to avoid any music shops she might pass by. She had already ignored three or four without doing more than barely glancing at their plate-glass windows. One though, walking by a large music emporium, brought her to stop, retracing her steps and standing, her head cocked to one side, remaining motionless for a few moments, then went straight to the window and peered in.

  She had not seen anything when she first passed by, indeed, she had merely determined, out of the corner of her eye, that one of the forbidden shops was nearby. Why, then, did she feel encouraged to return?

  The window was stocked, as all such windows are, with instruments, with sheet music, with such paraphernalia as resin, bows, chin-rests, mutes, strings, bridges, pegs. An old Hakhnazaryan, valued at several hundred rubles, lay alongside a set of wooden spoons, an ocarina, a saxophone, all gracefully grouped upon a gilt-edged copy of "Basasael in E Major."