TABOO MEGA BUNDLE: Wet & Ready (40 Hot Short Stories, First Time, Menage and More!)

by Olivia R. Gasm

  As a pair of dark blue jeans flew across my room and onto the bed, I could hear Chris open the bathroom door. Finally! I took a few steps backwards and looked down the hallway, seeing him walking towards his bedroom, stark naked and rubbing his groins with a black towel. Damn. He had a really nice ass. Not that I hadn’t seen it before, but I didn’t mind seeing it again from time to time.

  As if he could feel my eyes on his firm behind, Chris suddenly turned his head and glanced over his shoulder, noticing me watching him.

  “It’s free.” He winked.

  I felt like a mole popping out of a hole in the ground where I stood, peeking at him through the doorway with now–blushing cheeks. Ugh.

  “Finally, thanks.” I said and he dove into his room, closing the door quickly behind himself.

  I walked up to the laundry basket and started to undress quickly, shoving my slacks and tank top deep into the hamper before wrapping a towel tightly around my young body. I wasn’t going to walk naked down the hallway like he did, because I wasn’t insane!

  Once in the bathroom, I tossed my pink towel into the sink. The tiled floor felt like ice against the bottom of my feet when I stepped off the bathroom carpet, and I quickly made my way into the shower cabinet. The floor in there was still wet and warm from Christian’s shower.

  I stood still for a moment and breathed in the fresh smell of his shower gel. His scent was still lingering in the air, and it smelled so good. I could have stood there and smelled it for hours—or at least until the scent went away. Either the company that made the gel was really good at what they did, or Chris just smelled really good naturally. It’s probably the latter.

  I turned on the shower and let the water rain down onto my chest, dripping down across my body and slowly making me wet. Slowly, I turned the heat warmer and warmer. I like it hot. My hair was tied up into a high pony tail so that it wouldn’t get wet—because thanks to Chris’s hour–long shower session, I didn’t have enough time to wash and dry my hair, although I’d washed it just last night so it wasn’t really a big deal—and I was careful not to splash any water onto my head.

  Chris had just been standing in this exact same spot just a few minutes ago… naked. I couldn’t help but to imagine him and his naked body. I imagined his hands all over me, washing me and lathering lotion between his hands and rubbing them against my breasts. Meanwhile, my hands would slide down across his body, touching the log between his legs… A shiver shot across my body, making my nipples stiffen up. The thought of sharing the shower with Chris was making me feel hot on the inside.

  My hand slowly slid down across my torso and in between my legs, gently caressing the outer parts of my folds. I penetrated them with my fingers, brushing against my sensitive clit with my fingertips. The sensation caused me to let out a quiet moan. I craved for Chris’s touch more than ever—and the fact that I couldn’t have him just made me want him more! Although… I could always have the pleasant pressure of the shower faucet, pressed up against my clit and slowly massaging it.

  I took the faucet and held it lowered it down between my legs, feeling my heart beat with excitement as I slowly aimed it downwards. The hot water rushed against my pussy and made me jerk my hand back—the sensation was too strong. I moved my hand down to my pussy instead, stroking and caressing the outer folds gently. My pussy was becoming wetter and wetter, and it wasn’t only because of the water raining down onto my body.

  I lowered myself down to sit on the floor, my back sliding against the wet tiles on the way down. The floor felt hard and cold against my buttocks, sending a shiver throughout my body and out to my fingertips. My pussy was craving for Chris’s touch, but I settled for my own petite fingers, spreading and teasing my wet slit.

  My folds were warm and swollen with blood, throbbing pleasantly against my fingertips while I touched myself. I let one of my fingers slide down towards my opening and circle it slowly. The clear, sticky lubricant in my pussy stuck to my skin as my finger brushed over it, and I could feel my inner walls contracting with need.

  I probed myself gently, gasping quietly as my finger penetrated the wet hole. My pussy clamped tightly and welcomingly around my finger, but it craved for something else—something bigger. But I didn’t have anything bigger.

  My toes curled up when I started to move my finger in circles inside my pussy, stroking against my wet walls. My hand, which was clamped tightly around the shower faucet, moved itself down as if guided by instinct, and I could feel the hot water wash over my pussy again. I closed my eyes and pressed my head back against the shower wall, rolling my neck slowly from side to side. It felt so good—but I still wanted more.

  My finger found itself on the massage button on the shower faucet, the one that increased or decreased the water flow. I pressed the shower faucet against my pussy mound and pushed down the button, feeling the powerful blow of water against my skin. I twisted the pressure knob slightly until the jet felt less like an assault on my being, and more like a gentle, erotic kneading. Perfect.

  My teeth clasped around my bottom lip with excitement as I moved the faucet down lower. The beam suddenly slid over the mound of my pussy and onto my sensitive clit, stimulating it roughly.

  “Ah!” I gasped.

  The feeling was intense, causing me to press my foot against the wall firmly. I moved the faucet slowly up and down over my pussy, massaging it like I would with my hand. An orgasm was building up inside of me quickly—the powerful sensation of the water beam was usually enough to bring me to orgasm within a minute, but my record was eight seconds.

  My legs were starting to shiver and I threw my head forward, not caring about the strands of hair that fell onto my wet body. Suddenly, there was a loud bang on the door. It startled me and my eyes shot open, but I kept masturbating. I was so close.

  “Stop wasting the water!” Chris yelled and laughed, as if he was only doing it to tease me. Was he doing the same thing earlier..? “We have to go soon!”

  “I–I’m coming.” I called back, the image of Chris stroking his stiff cock fresh in my mind.

  I started to move the finger inside my pussy back and forth rapidly, imagining that it was Chris’s cock that was probing me. The feeling was too much and I finally went over the edge, my fingers gripping the shower faucet so hard that my knuckles turned white. My pussy exploded and started sending waves of pleasure throughout my body.

  A certain feeling took over my mind—the feeling of calmness and happiness. I lowered the faucet down, breathing heavily, and slumped my body backwards against the wall. I let the water run against my leg and closed my eyes, feeling the last waves slowly fade away. My pussy was pounding enjoyably, and my hair was wet. It had gotten quite steamy inside the shower.

  I muttered quietly to myself, annoyed by the fact that I’d have to dry my hair after all.

  I heard footstep outside the door and thought about Chris, and then it hit me—I’d never seen his cock. I wonder if it’s long or thick. Or… both? I thought to myself. I wish I’d asked him to join me in the shower… I shook my head when I realized that I was getting lost in my thoughts again, and quickly turned off the shower and got out to dry myself.

  After drying my body with my towel and opening the door to the hallway, I peeked outside before running down the hallway to my room. I wanted to make sure that Chris wasn’t there—I was shy like that. We were half–siblings after all.

  Back in the safety of my own room, I put on my chosen outfit and started to dry my hair. About a quarter of an hour later, I was done. Almost. The only thing I had left to do was my make–up, which was never easy. In the end I decided to keep it simple, with a single layer of mascara, and blush on my cheeks to accentuate my cheekbones.

  I strolled down the corridor and skipped down the stairs, still feeling slightly uncertain about my outfit—what if I’m not fancy enough? —but once I saw my stepfather, who was wearing wrinkled jeans and a t–shirt, I knew that I’d chosen well. My mother was with him as well,
leaning against the kitchen arch and glaring at the clock on her wrist. Surprise, surprise, we were waiting for Christian!

  I sat down on the armrest of the sofa in the living room, listening to my mom yell at Christian that she didn’t want to be late. My stepfather, Andreas, didn’t seem to be in a hurry, and he joined me in the living room to wait.

  “You look good.” He said and smiled at me, giving me a much–needed confidence boost. I felt insecure about my plus size sometimes, and maybe he knew that… not that I cared about Andreas’s opinion.

  Chris came down the stairs a moment later. He was wearing slim jeans and a striped, button–down shirt that was open, showing the dark blue t–shirt underneath.

  “Are we going yet?” He asked as he passed the doorway to the living room. Our eyes met for a brief second, but the feeling it gave me lingered for a long time. His gaze made me feel different—similar to the way that Tony had made me feel, before I found out about what he did.

  “Nice sweater.” He said nonchalantly and leaned against the sofa next to me with his arms crossed over his wide chest. He poked me gently with his elbow and nodded towards his father. “I bet he’ll have an emergency at work again.” he teased, knowing that Andreas always seemed to have the perfect excuse to leave these parties whenever he got bored. It was understandable really—my mum dragged him along every time she was invited somewhere.

  “Mmyeah.” I mumbled, glancing down at the spot where Chris’s and my thighs were touching. I could feel his heat against me despite the layers of clothing between us. If only there could be… less.

  “What are you thinking?” Chris’s breath felt hot against my ear as he whispered into it, and it send a tingling sensation across my body. I wanted to tell him what I was thinking, but I didn’t dare—how would he react if he knew how I felt about him?

  It was better to be just close friends, than to not be friends at all.

  “Well wouldn’t you want to know?” I said teasingly and shoved my elbow into his ribs with a grin. He grinned back at me and stood up—perhaps to retaliate—just as my mother came around the corner with a serious look on her face.

  “Alright. Chop, chop! Everyone out!” She called out and clapped her hands.

  Andreas drove us to the party in his dark grey SUV. Chris wanted to drive (he had just gotten his driver’s license) but Andreas wouldn’t let him—he never even let my mother drive his car because it was ‘his precious’—and Chris settled for riding shotgun instead, leaving me in the backseat with my mother. I was slightly disappointed to be seated with such boring company, but I sucked it up for the next ten minutes. Then, my stepfather drove off the main road and onto a fancy–looking driveway, which was positioned in front of a fancy, three–story brick house.

  It looked like a colonial–style mansion, and I felt envy immediately. I wished that I could live in a house like that one day—majestic, with a nice garden and many rooms, probably a spiral staircase and clean marbled floors that clacked loudly when you walked across them. It would be a bitch to clean, but if I was that rich I’d probably have maids and all sorts of servants…

  “Pretty nice.” Chris let out, and judging from the expression on his face he was about as amazed as I was. His eyes wandered immediately to the many cars in the driveway—most of them dark and sleek, with tinted windows and silvery rims.

  “Hey mom, these people are loaded!” I commented.

  She didn’t answer anything but an offended scoff.

  “Yup, just take a look at that fountain over there.” Andreas pointed out the window and towards a fountain with trickling water and a cherub statue extending from the middle. “Probably worth more than our entire house.”

  My mom punched his arm softly, and I was starting to get the feeling that she didn’t like the people who lived here, which made me wonder why we even came to begin with, since she was clearly bitter. Well, it didn’t matter anymore, we were already here.

  When we got out of the car and started walking up the driveway, I started to feel bad about my clothes—maybe it was formal after all… The atmosphere was a little bit awkward too, mostly because of my mother’s clearly negative attitude. I had a general bad feeling in my stomach about the whole thing.

  After ringing the doorbell two times in a succession, the door suddenly swung open to reveal the hostess standing inside. She was tall and blonde, wearing a beautiful, yet casual red dress. I was saved—it was a casual party!

  “Hey, Ivy!” The woman chirped. “I’m so glad you could make it.” She reached out and took my mother’s hands in hers, squeezing them joyously. My mother didn’t seem nearly as enthusiastic, but she tried.

  “Of course we came!” She responded and dove in for a hug. “Here is my husband Andreas and his son Christian.” She said, waving her hand towards the group. “And this moody girl here is Tessa, my daughter.” She put her hand on my shoulder and smiled down at me.

  I felt embarrassed at my new–found title, but I guess I had earned it…

  “Tessaaa! I’m so glad to meet you.” The blonde woman exclaimed happily. There was a strange edge to her happiness, like she didn’t truly mean it. “I’ve heard so much about you.” She continued as she motioned for us all to enter her home.

  “Moody girl, huh.” Chris snickered into my ear as he walked past me into the house. He hadn’t been around when I was going through my rebellious phase a few years ago, so he didn’t know what my mother was referring to. I grinned at him shyly, not sure if he was asking a question or just making fun of me like always.

  Entering the house was like walking into a wall—that’s how thick the perfumes and scents were in the air. It smelled like a combination of roses and delicious food, and I couldn’t wait to find out what they were serving.

  The lobby was glorious; spiraling stairs led from the corner of the room, which was lit up by an extravagant roof chandelier. The walls were made of wooden panels which had been stained dark red, and the interior design was focused on modern shades of white and black. I liked it.

  The others started removing their shoes and I mimicked them, assuming it was a preference of the host. I guess it would get messy if you held a party with a few dozen guests and they all wore their shoes inside.

  “There are some snacks on the kitchen island. For now, I’m trying to keep everyone in the lounge and the patio. Dinner will be served in an hour or so, but until then—get comfortable!” The lady in red instructed us.

  Before I knew it, she, my mom and Andreas had all disappeared into another room, leaving me and Chris alone. Now it was time to either socialize with other people, or find a corner to hide in for the rest of the evening. I sighed and decided to follow my stepbrother as he went down the hallway in another direction.

  “You figure the kitchen is this way?” He asked, turning his head to look at me.

  I shrugged apathetically, because I really had no idea. “Let’s find out.”

  At the end of the hall, there was a large, open room with a fireplace that casted the room in a cozy yellow glow. The roof opened up to the second floor, and you could see the upstairs loft room from the two divan sofas in front of the fire, where people were seated and having a drink while chatting. Cool. I thought to myself, quietly scanning the crowd for anyone I might know.

  Suddenly I heard a voice that I recognized coming from the middle of the room, and my stomach sank like a rock. I’d sworn to never talk to her again for the rest of my life. Stephany… She looked like her usual self—a freaking bimbo—with her long blond hair tied up into a ponytail, wearing a tight–fitting pink dress that looked like it was made just for her. She was the kind of woman all men wanted, and I wasn’t surprised to see a bunch of guys lingering around her already. Why did she have to be here?!

  While I was staring at her from across the room, she suddenly looked up and our eyes met instantly. Fuck me. I thought and flinched, turning my head towards the fireplace instead. Please, don’t come over here, please. I begged. I didn’t
want to talk to her, knowing that every word that came out of her mouth was poison. Oh, did I mention that she was the girl who fucked my boyfriend? Yeah, I wouldn’t mind if either of them fell into a deep hole and never came out.

  “Tessa!” She roared from across the room. I turned my head to see her walking towards me, an enthusiastic smile plastered on her perfect, smug face.

  “I didn’t know you were invited!” She let out and tried to hug me, but I leaned backwards awkwardly as soon as she extended her arms. Months had passed, but I still held a grudge, even though it was mostly that assholes fault and not hers.

  “Yeeaaaah…” I let out slowly. “Hey, Steph. Nice to see you again.” I tried my best not to sound like a sarcastic schmuck, but it was hard.

  The scent of strawberries wafted through the air and into my nostrils—great, she fucking smells wonderful too. I suddenly felt bad for not putting on any perfume myself.

  “You too!” Stephany smiled, looking at my body up and down in one quick glance.

  Chris appeared at my side, holding a plate of snacks in his hand.

  “Hey there.” He said and took a big bite out of a cream cheese–filled salmon roll.

  “Hello and welcome!” Steph lunged forward, throwing her arms around Chris and practically pressing her silicone–filled breasts up against his body. With a piece of uneaten salmon in his mouth, Chris held his arms up in confusion and stared at me over her shoulder, his eyes screaming “Who the hell is she?” or something similar.

  “Did you enjoy the salmon roll?” She asked with a flirtatious wink.

  Chris swallowed quickly. “Oh yes, I do! Did you make them?” He sounded impressed, and the jealously stung like a dagger in my heart. Against the will of my pounding heart, I kept a neutral expression on my face, pretending to be interested in what the she–beast had to say.