Take All of It September 2019

by Scarlett Skyes

  My mother left on the Friday and on Saturday morning, resolved to my fate, I went out back to the workshop for what I thought was going to be a mind-bogglingly boring day. With a deep breath, I smoothed my skirt, opened the door, and stepped inside.

  The first thing I saw was Dan kneeling beside some piece of scrap metal with a dusty seat on top, some kind of tool in his hand that made a clickety-clackety sound as he twisted and tightened something. I rolled my eyes. This was the kind of thing you were supposed to pay the help to do, wasn’t it?

  The second thing I noticed was that Dan was shirtless, wearing only jeans, boots and a liberal amount of engine grease over his lean torso. My sarcastic greeting caught in my throat as I watched his muscles flex with the use of the tool.

  I knew, of course, that he was no couch potato, but I’d never seen him in this light before. My tongue snaked out and licked my lips before I could even think about it, and I shook my head to clear it. That came out of nowhere.

  Dan looked up and gave me a quick head-to-toe scan. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

  There it was. That… base attitude. How could someone so rich act so much like a commoner. One day, I’d find my Prince Charming and I’d never have to deal with a rough-cut man like this again.

  “What? This is what I wear.”

  My white, button-up shirt was form-fitting and classy, and I always liked the way my favourite white knee socks contrasted with my black skirt and shoes. A light scarf provided a splash of colour and I, for one, thought I looked nice, it was a smart-casual ensemble suitable for many social occasions, like…

  “You look like you’re going to fuckin’ high tea or some shit,” said Dan.

  “One can hope,” I retorted.

  “Well, we’ve got other plans for today,” he said with a mysterious edge to his voice that managed to tug my eyebrow upwards as I crossed my arms.

  “Whatever. So what kind of bike is this?” I asked, trying to at least fill the time with something.

  “Do you know anything about motorcycles?”

  “No.”

  “Then it’s a fuckin’ motorcycle.”

  *****

  I watched him for what felt like five lifetimes, occasionally handing him a tool that he pointed at and asked for. My main dilemma was finding something to lean against or sit on that wouldn’t make me irreversibly dirty. Eventually I decided on a sheet from a pile on the ground, which I draped over a stack of tyres.

  Piece by piece, the three dimensional puzzle strewn around my step-father started to look more and more like a real machine and I had to admit, there was something unexpectedly intriguing about how well he worked with his hands. I bit my bottom lip when he grabbed some stubborn part of the bike with both hands and every muscle in his body seemed stand out like he was carved from stone until, with the sound of wrenching metal, it came loose and he unscrewed it.

  I wondered what it would be like to allow a man like Dan to lay his hands on me. The thought of him, all rough and dirty, so different to all my other fantasies, made my heart go pitter-patter a bit. Just when I was daydreaming about his touch on my ass I realised I was leaning forward intently, probably with a stupid look on my face, and he was looking back at me.

  Dan gave me an almost imperceptible, yet knowing, smile and stood, retrieving some gas from the bench and pouring some into the fuel tank as I sat up straight, trying to force the blood not to flow to my cheeks by an act of sheer willpower. I failed.

  “Hop on,” said Dan, tilting his head in the direction of the bike.

  “What? Why?”

  “Get your fuckin’ ass on this seat. Now.”

  I startled at the harshness of his voice. For a man who swore so much, I was caught off guard by how much venom he was able to put into it when he really wanted to. It was the kind of voice you didn’t question twice.

  With a wary eye on my billionaire step-father, I stood and made my way to the bike, which still had no wheels and was being held up by some kind of heavy metal stand. To swing a leg over, I had to gather up my skirt, and it didn’t escape my notice just how much attention Dan paid to the flash of bare skin on my thighs.

  I blushed again. That look had no hint of innocence to it. Carefully, I held my skirt down at the front and threw one leg over the seat, settling myself as best I could.

  The padding was soft, but a bit rough and with a noticeable ridge that ran right down the middle from front to back. Squirm as I might, that ridge just seemed to be in the right place push my panties against my pussy.

  To my surprise, Dan hopped on behind me and I cringed at the thought of all that engine grease so close to my spotless white shirt. I could almost feel a tingling all over my back at the proximity of him, could practically feel the heat of him.

  “C-careful of my shirt, you’re dirty.”

  “Maybe it’s time you got a little dirty, Kate,” said Dan, leaning against me.

  “Ugh!”

  I scrambled to get off, but Dan’s powerful hands grabbed me at the hips and forced me back down again until I stopped struggling. His legs were on either side of mine, hugging me from my ass almost to my knees and I could feel that lean body pressed against my back as he spoke quietly in my ear.

  “I love you little English roses. Everything that comes out of your mouth in that sexy fuckin’ accent sounds like you think you’re royalty, but underneath it all you’re the filthiest bitches in the world.”

  Dan’s hand’s, still in my hips and upper thighs rubbed inwards maybe a fraction of an inch, but it was enough to make me gasp and flinch at the sensation of those fingertips heading for my most precious treasure. Something was very wrong with what was happening here, but he didn’t rub any further.

  Instead, he reached forward, turned a key and then stood up, kicking something downwards on the right hand side as he sat back down on the seat behind me. Immediately, the engine roared to life, sounding healthy and strong despite the bike still looking a long way from finished.

  However, regardless of how it sounded, the more important thing was how it felt. The motor vibrated powerfully and that strange ridge inside the padding of the seat seemed to concentrate those sensations right on my inexperienced and completely unsuspecting pussy.

  I’d never dreamed of using a vibrator like the more vulgar girls at school had talked about, so I was unprepared for that sudden barrage of sensation. As Dan sat down it was almost like I was on the other end of a see-saw and I shot up, almost scared of how good that brief moment had felt.

  Once more, Dan’s hands found my hips and pulled me back down, pulled me hard against him. Instantly I was assaulted by the powerful thrumming of the motorbike again and looked around almost in a panic.

  My step-father, my mother’s own husband, shouldn’t have his hands on my hips like that. He shouldn’t be pulling me against him between his legs like that. I certainly shouldn’t be having these kinds of feelings while this close to the man of my house either.

  He surely couldn’t realise the kind of effect the gas-powered miracle between my legs was having. I tried to tell myself that, but the way he was pressing against me told me otherwise.

  “How are you feeling, Kate?”

  “Um…”

  Dan leaned against me even harder, making me lean forward too, and my clit pressed against that vibrating ridge. My jaw dropped and my eyes bulged for a moment before I started breathing faster and I closed my eyelids.

  “Here’s how it’s gonna be, princess,” Dan said, “things are gonna change around here. You hear me?”

  The motorcycle worked away between my legs like the world’s loudest brainwashing device. It was almost impossible to think with that sheer pleasure being hummed into me.

  I could feel his breath against my ear, his stubble against my neck, that hard muscular body against my back and those hands on my hips, holding me against him, against this wonderful thing underneath me. It was so damn wrong, but my brain had apparently disconnected my legs and no
matter how much indignation I tried to muster up, I couldn’t even try to escape again.

  Dan continued as if my steadily-increasing breath-rate was an affirmative. “It’s about time you started paying a bit more fuckin’ respect. You understand?”

  Oil tycoon squeezed me with his hands and I nodded, probably willing to agree to anything if he’d just let me stay right where I was. The way he was pressing against me, putting his hands where no step-father should, ignoring all the rules, and holding me against this pleasure-machine, was driving me crazy.

  The vibrations on my clit were making something happen, something on a scale that even now threatened to be like a nuclear bomb in comparison to the bottle rockets of my previous orgasms. Dan’s lips brushed my earlobe and I moaned, a sound completely lost under the cacophony of the motorbike.

  “That’s a good girl. Good girl,” he repeated.

  A pulse of ecstasy flashed from my clit to my tummy and echoed around my body. Dan had always been so distant, so authoritarian, before that hearing his praise made me feel like I was glowing, as inappropriate as the whole situation was. Some part of my brain was flooding me with the warm-fuzzy hormones, doing its damndest to encourage me to seek out that acceptance and attention.

  “We’re gonna have some fun today, really bond. You do exactly what the fuck I say and you’ll enjoy yourself. You don’t and… well, let’s not get into that. Got it?”

  I nodded again, overwhelmed by his self-assurance, desperate for his approval and most of all not wanting the incomparable pleasure I was feeling to stop before I arrived at the spectacular final destination my body was promising me. It wasn’t going to take too long at this rate.

  “Put your hands up there on the handlebars and don’t let go unless I tell you,” he said.

  Complying as quickly as I could, I reached up and grabbed the rubber grips. The position put even more pressure on my clit. Dan scooted even closer against me and another spark of shameful pleasure jolted from between my legs when I felt a huge hard bulge pressing against my ass.

  Oh my God, the first cock I’ve felt and it belongs to my step-father, I thought. I wanted to feel disgusted with myself, ashamed, but it was so hard and so big, I was almost proud to be able to have that effect on such a powerful and experienced man.

  “Don’t you move those hands,” he warned.

  Not taking his own advice, Dan’s hands slid upwards from my hips to my belly, pulling my top up a little bit as he no doubt left black streaks of engine grease on my shirt. My knuckles went white, gripping the handles with all my strength to stop myself from pushing his hands away as they approached my breasts.

  “That’s it, good girl, don’t fight it…”

  I looked down at the same time as I felt those strong hands move on to my breasts, seeing the black-grey smudges he left everywhere he touched. No gentleman would subject a lady to that… so was he no gentleman or was I no lady?

  “Mmmm,” he breathed, giving my tits a hard squeeze that made me gasp and jump at another spark of pleasure, “you feel fuckin’ good, Kate. You’re gonna be my little slut today, aren’t you?’

  Little slut was going a bit far, wasn’t it? I mean, the bike had me behaving out of character, but did that mean I was a slut? Dan squeezed harder, almost to the point of pain, and I yelped, barely managing to keep my hands on the handlebars.

  “Answer me, you little fucktoy. Say ‘I belong to you, Daddy’”

  My fantasies had always involved being gently caressed all over my body, being worshipped like a goddess and made gentle love to, I couldn’t fathom why this was making me so hot. Dan was holding me tighter, more possessively that I would have thought possible, squeezing my tits and crushing me against him at the same time he slowly ground that bulge at the front of his pants against me.

  He was treating me just like the fucktoy he had called me, rather than the lady I had always imagined myself to be. I was powerless to help the way it made me feel, all I knew was that I didn’t want it to stop.

  “I belong to you, Daddy,” I whispered.

  “Louder.”

  “I belong to you, Daddy!” I yelled over the growling engine.

  It felt like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders, like I was relieving myself of responsibility for my actions. I’d always been uptight, careful not to step outside the bounds of what somebody of my station should do, to give up control was like coming out of prison.

  Dan’s right hand moved over to my left breast, his arm consequently wrapping around me even further, as his left hand travelled over my upper chest and my neck. When he paused over my throat I thought he was going to choke me, I could feel all that power in his grip, but instead he continued upwards until that hand was on my jawline, applying firm pressure until I turned my head towards him.

  He looked down at me like a dangerous animal pondering whether this timid rabbit would be good to eat or not and my heart thundered in my chest as I returned his gaze through half-closed eyelids. Was this going to be my first kiss?

  Every breath I took brought his manly scent inside me, the engine grease, the musk, the faint undertones of money. They could bottle it up and label it ‘power’ if they wanted to make a fortune.

  I licked my lips just in time for when the alpha predator who had me in his clutches made his move and kissed me. This was not the kind of kiss that would gently wake Sleeping Beauty from her supernatural slumber, this was the kind of kiss that would steal her breath away.

  Dan held me just where he wanted me, kissing me hard and deep as he groped my breasts unceremoniously. Under my shirt and bra my nipples were standing to attention, more erect than I could ever remember them being and so hard they almost hurt when Dan wasn’t kneading and rubbing at them.

  I moaned into the kiss as a buzzing ball of pleasure grew in my belly like I was pregnant with ecstasy, every hum and throb of the motorcycle fed it until I thought I might explode. Dan pulled back, and I strained after him eagerly for a few inches but couldn’t keep up.

  “Twist the right handle,” he said.

  I did so and the engine revved hard enough to make my eyes go wide. As I slowly twisted the throttle, and the pitch of the motor under me went higher and higher, I knew I was about to cum right in front of my step-father, hell, I was going to cum whilst in his very clutches, he was going to feel every quiver and spasm of my forbidden pleasure.

  It was almost impossible to hear over the noise, but Dan was saying something to me. Aside from the racket, it was almost impossible to concentrate too. Words had no place in this situation, only primal moans and pleasure had any meaning, but I tried desperately to hear him, to please him.

  “Look at me,” he said, over and over again.

  It was easier said than done. As my orgasm approached I had to fight an urge to squeeze my eyes shut that was almost as powerful as when I sneezed, but somehow I thought I managed it.

  I couldn’t be one hundred percent certain because the moment that ball of sexual energy burst in my belly, making me feel like I was being electrocuted by pleasure, my vision kind of glazed over for a second. I held my breath as if I might be able to contain the explosion, but the pressure built and built until I let it out in a mindless moan of bliss, my muscles flexing and trembling with the strain.

  All I could feel was ultimate pleasure and all I could see was my billionaire step-daddy. The two became hopelessly entwined in my mind as the most powerful climax of my life seemed to rewire my brain.

  Finally I went weak in his arms and my hands slipped off the handlebars. The motor wound back down to idling speed and teased out every last modicum of my orgasm as I panted up at him wordlessly.

  “Now it’s my turn, princess,” said Dan.

  My step-father turned the key off and the engine spluttered to a stop between my legs. Dan dismounted behind me and picked me up as if I was a bride being carried over the threshold. I glanced down at the seat to see a huge wet patch where I had been sitting and couldn’t believe I ha
d made such a mess.

  Even more unbelievable was that Dan was taking me to the pile of sheets to take my virginity. The same person who had married my mother and been the only man in my life was going to me my first.

  The Kate that had woken up that morning would have turned her nose up at the idea, but she hadn’t yet had the orgasm I just did. She didn’t know how good it felt to have control taken away.

  Dan dropped me on the surprisingly soft makeshift bed and stood over me, drinking me in with his eyes as he undid his belt buckle, followed by his button and zip. I rose to my knees, all too aware of my post-orgasm dishevelled hair, the black handprints all over my tits and the taste of him on my lips. I gave him my most defiant look.

  “Make me do it, Daddy,” I said in my most carefully enunciated Queen’s English.

  Dan smirked. “Just like your mother.”

  Smack!

  I didn’t have any time to ponder what his words might mean before his hand came out of nowhere and slapped me square across the face. I fell to my side on the sheets felt the sting for a moment before warmth blossomed on my cheek and Dan was on top of me, forcing me face-down.

  His arm wrapped around my neck, not to squeeze, just so he could grab on to my shoulder and hold me still, although I could feel those hard muscles of his against my throat and knew my life was in his hands. I could also feel his bare cock pushing against my skirt, aligned right down the crack of my ass, and despite the slap, despite the orgasm, despite everything, that huge specimen of manhood dominated my thoughts.

  “I am going to fuck the bejesus out of you, little girl,” said Dan.

  I bit my bottom lip in anticipation and Dan grabbed my wrist with his spare hand, bringing it behind my back and placing my fingers on his impossibly huge cock. Everything went still for a moment as I tried to come to grips with the kind of size he was packing. It felt like it might be the equivalent of trying to stuff the Washington monument into a coin slot.