by Candy Quinn
The pleasure reached beyond my limit. I could feel my mind starting to fracture and break apart in the euphoria. My body shook, the sweet trickle of bliss shooting through my skin from my hips, from my nipples, to my fingers, my toes, to my brain, to my heart but it was beyond my ability to process. My eyes flickered rolling back into my head and I felt my face comforted by the bed. I had fallen into a blissful heap, tongue lolling out, eyes staring at nothing. But dad kept going. Kept pushing, kept fucking me harder, pushing onward and onward, turning over the burning pleasure until it started climbing again and I shook my head, I couldn't take it.
I gibbered, words mixing together in my rising pleasure. But then I was suddenly drawn out of my pleasure, my mind lifting even higher, higher above the fog, feverish and frightening, the growing heights of pleasure brought me a weird clarity, somewhere in the eye of the storm. I could feel his grip harden, his hips thrusting harder, his need growing and I clamped down around him, drawing him in. I slammed back against him, rolling my hips back to meet him.
"Make me yours, fill me with your seed, do it. Cum inside me daddy!" I cried out. He grunted, his pace quickening, intensity growing and the familiar needy thrusts shot cum deep inside me, the warmth flooding my bringing a satisfied smile to my head as I leaned back, biting my bottom lip turning back to look at him, kissing him. This is what I wanted, I could feel the hole inside me filling, filling with the love we shared. He hugged me tightly to the bed, kissing me on the cheek. I was so enamored, so drunk on him, his scent, his strength, his touch.
"I-I uh don't know how to explain this. This is wrong in every way." He dumbly shook his head staring at me. "I can't reconcile my need for you and your role with me." I stilled his doubt, reaching with my lips across to kiss him. Then I leaned back, turning my eyes up at him from the bed. "Daddy, my role is obvious if you paid any attention. I'm a troublemaker, I'm your troublemaker." I punctuated this with another kiss. He smiled and brought his hand across my stomach possessively. "Promise you'll only ever be my troublemaker." He murmured into my ear. I giggled and kissed him again. There could be no doubt in my mind, I was finally full.
* * *
Cecilia Lawrence is a Melbourne based graduate with a bachelor's degree in Philosophy. When she isn't reading through racy romance novels, she's cycling to work thinking about ways to write them naughtier.
See all my latest works at www.irresistibletaboo.com
9
The Brat’s Proposition
By Ophelia Stephens
I'm in trouble. More than half an hour late for my curfew and tipsy, because my best friend persuaded me to taste that delicious fruit punch she made for her party tonight. It was super delicious, but also a lot more toxic than the taste suggested.
I am staggering down our driveway, trying to regain composure.
"Okay, Lizzy, you got this," I whisper to myself when I reach our front door and start searching for my keys.
It is so ridiculous anyways. A high school graduate who still has a curfew! I will off to college in just a few months, hundreds of miles away from home. How do they think they can control me then?
Luckily, my mother is not home tonight, because she is away on another 'business retreat' weekend, or so she says. Her suspicious behavior during the lasts months rather suggests that she is having an affair. Sneaking around, having secret phone calls that she abruptly ends when someone enters the room, staying late at work - and these 'retreat' weekends her firm keeps having. It is already the third this year. How can John, my stepdad, be so stupid?
He is home, though. Her loyal spy, who will scold me in her place and make sure that my misbehavior will come to her knowledge.
It takes me forever to find my key. My purse is so messy and big - and I am so drunk, more than I realized before. I thought that taking a little walk home would do me good, clear my head and lessen the alcohol's impact on my system. But if anything, I feel even more drunk than I did when I left my friend's house.
"Ha!" I exclaim as I finally find that damn key. I start fiddling with it at the lock, but getting the key inside appears to be just as complicated as finding it in the black hole that is my pursue.
I shriek in surprise when the door suddenly opens, seemingly by itself.
I am looking up, meeting the stern eyes of my handsome stepfather. His dark, thick hair is ruffled and wet. He is wearing his workout clothes, a tight fit shirt that shows of his remarkable and broad chest and basketball shorts - and he is covered in sweat.
If he wasn't my stepdad, I would say he looks insanely hot right now. Ah, what the heck. I'll say it even though he is my stepdad!
I stare at him with my mouth half opened, dumbfounded by his sexy appearance and the fact that I have broken the rules - again - and am pretty sure that he is more than tired of hearing my excuses.
"Liz," he greets me, raising his eyebrows. "Are you drunk?"
I straighten myself up and shake my head.
"Of course not, daddy," I reply, my voice as sweet as it can be. "You know I'm not allowed to drink. Why would I do that?"
He shakes his head, sighing with exhaustion.
"Lizzy, Lizzy," he mumbles. "I can smell the alcohol on your breath from here, there's no point in lying to me."
I frown at him.
"It was just a little bit!" I try to protest. "Please, I don't want to get in trouble..."
He sighs and steps aside for me to enter the house. "Come in, you must be freezing out there."
He's right, it is way too cold outside, especially considering my outfit. I am wearing one of my short and tight fitting party dresses. Skimpy towels, my mom calls them. I only brought a light cardigan with me since it was still light and rather warm outside when I left. But my getup is definitely not appropriate for the current temperatures. My intoxication probably saved me from suffering too much, though.
I stumble inside, trying to get pass my stepdad, but instead bumping right into him as I lose my balance.
"Careful there!" He warns as he catches me in his undoubtedly strong arms. "How on earth did you get home like this?"
I shrug, still leaning against his chest. He is tall, so much taller than me, even now that I am in my heels. And so freaking muscular! His upper body appears to be hard as rock underneath his sweaty shirt. I knew that he is toned and strong, with the amount of time that he spends lifting weights in our basement gym or jogging around the block, it comes as no surprise. But damn, he feels good.
I cannot help but wonder if he has a real sixpack under there. It definitely feels like it.
"Sorry, daddy," I slur, drunkenly rubbing my face on his chest.
He grabs me by the shoulders and pushes me away.
"You need to get to bed, young lady," he orders. "I cannot believe you dare to show up this late again - and drunk! What will your mother say!"
I look up at him, alarmed. "Please, can we not tell her? She's gonna freak, you know what she's like!"
He lets go of my shoulders and closes the door behind me.
"She only wants what's best for you, Lizzy," he says as he turns around again, setting his dark eyes on me. "I wouldn't feel comfortable keeping this from her. You out there, missing curfew, drinking and doing god knows what at that party!"
I frown again. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Where there boys at that party?" He wants to know.
I laugh at him. "Of course! My friends! We're not in kindergarten anymore! Don't be ridiculous!"
"Well," he says. "All I know is, your mom has no interest in becoming a grandma all too soon."
I gasp with indignation. "Oh my god - that is such bullshit!"
And with that, I turn around to stagger up to my room, leaving him standing at the door, with his buff arms crossed in front of his chest.
"And besides," I add, turning around when I am half way up the stairs to look down at him. "I'm a virgin! Nothing for you guys to worry about!"
* * *
Why on earth did I say
that? It must have been the alcohol speaking.
Of course, he has nothing to reply to my little revelation. I hear him come up the stairs shortly after I have closed my door behind me. He is heading straight for the bathroom, probably to take a shower after his workout.
A wild idea gets ahold of me as I peel myself out of my tight dress. He is going to be naked in there. And if I am lucky, the door might be unlocked.
Should I dare to? Right now, there's nothing more I would like to do. To surprise him while he takes a shower, just to have a little peak, that is. I just need to see.
But it needs to be fair. If I get to see him, he should get a glimpse of me, too. Right? I am already in my underwear, pondering how much I would be okay for him to see. All? Just my boobs? They are quite big for my rather slim frame, and young and perky. Any man would enjoy them, I am sure. Especially when he is only used to seeing my mom's aged tits. No woman her age can keep up with an eighteen year old, I am sure.
If I keep my bra on, it would not be much different to me wearing a bikini. He has seen me in that before, so it wouldn't be new.
I decide to let go off the bra and allow him to see more than what he is used to seeing at our pool during summer. It wouldn't be fair otherwise.
I sneak out of my room, wearing nothing but my cute little panties, light blue with a slightly ruffled hem. I am sure he will love it. He would be stupid not to.
The water of the shower is still running when I step out in the hallway. I am walking - staggering - on my tiptoes, which is ridiculous, because he wouldn't hear me either way.
The bathroom is at the other end of the hallway, rather far away from my room. I place my hand on the doorknob and carefully and very, very slowly turn it until I hear the click sound that tells me the door is open. Unlocked, just as I have hoped.
I take a little peak inside before I dare to enter. His workout clothes are spread on the floor and the shower curtain is closed.
How do I want to play this? My tipsy brain makes it hard to come up with a clever plan. I just want to see him! And I want him to see me. I need to see what that gorgeous, buffed chest really looks like.
So, I step inside, leaving the door ajar behind me. He has been showering for a while now and should be finished soon. I don't want to surprise him while he is still in there and risk him to slip in the bathtub. Maybe the smartest thing to do is to wait for him to come out and see me, brushing my teeth at the sink. I need to do that anyway.
Just as I expected, his shower ends shortly after I positioned myself in front of the mirror above our sink, brushing my teeth like a good girl. I instantly turn around to face the shower, when I hear him tear the curtain away.
"Lizzy!" He exclaims in shock as he notices me. He is so surprised, he even forgets to cover himself. Lucky for me!
And oh my god, he is yummy! His broad and wet chest is even more toned than I anticipated. A clearly visible set of muscles forms his tummy and chest area. He has a sixpack, alright. And more than that.
A faint line of dark hair leads the way down to his center, where he sports an enormous cock. It is completely soft when I first lay eyes on it, but still so incredibly meaty and big, I can only imagine what it must look like when it hardens. I need to see...
"What the fuck!" He yells at me, as my eyes are still fixated on his beautiful member. Did I see it grow below my gaze just now? I think, I did!
"Oh, I'm sorry," I slur, seductively playing with the toothbrush in my mouth. "I needed to brush my teeth and didn't feel like waiting, daddy."
He frowns at me. But I can see his eyes flinching, moving up and down my body in just a heartbeat. They linger on my firm, big breasts for a moment, before he can take them off of me to look up at my eyes. I can tell he likes what he is seeing. He wants to put his hands on my tight and young body. I may not be as ripped as him, but I do have a body that every boy at my school lusts after - and I am very aware of that.
I spit in the sink and put my toothbrush away to approach him.
Sadly, John just remembered that he is completely naked and hastily puts a towel around his waist as I stroll towards him.
"Aww," I say, making a sad face. "That was such a beautiful sight, daddy. Why are you stealing it from me?"
"Geez, Lizzy what the hell is wrong with you?" He breathes. "Get out of here! And for god's sake, cover yourself!"
I look up at him and pout. "Why, daddy? Don't you like what you're seeing?"
I observe him as I reach up and seductively cup my large breasts, pushing them together and kneading them the way I know he would love to.
He stares at me. His lower jaw slightly drops as he watches me massaging my tits before his eyes. I can feel my center tingling with lust like it never has before. Damn, he is hot. I wouldn't mind him being my first.
No, I want him to be my first!
"Lizzy!" He warns, now grabbing me at my shoulders and pushing me away. "Stop that, now! You are drunk!"
He gets out of the shower and dashes past me. I smile as I see the bulge beneath the towel he has covered himself in.
He grabs one of the large towels from a shelf and throws it at me. More to chase me out than for me to actually wrap myself in it, I assume.
"Out! Now!" He snaps at me. "I will not tolerate your drunken behavior any longer, young lady!"
Drunk, right. Even my tipsy brain understands that he won't dare to touch me while I am intoxicated. Even though, I am bar far not as drunk as he thinks I am.
But he can't know that, right?
I pout at him. "But daddy, I'm dizzy... will you bring me to bed?"
He looks at me, furious. "No, I think you're perfectly capable of doing that by yourself. Now, leave!"
I sigh and turn around, admitting defeat - but just for tonight.
* * *
I don't even have a hangover the next day. Not even the slightest headache. That should tell him how sane I was. I was easily sober enough to realize what I want.
Him. I want him. I still do, even with my completely sober morning brain. I want this gorgeous, sexy man to be my first. And I want that perfect cock to stretch me until I feel truly full.
Wouldn't it make sense, too? To have my virginity taken by someone with experience - not a little High School boy who gets so excited he climaxes within the first two minutes, or even worse, who hurts me?
I am certain that John is a great lover. And a gentle one. Despite my mother apparently having grown tired of him. But she is not a good standard to go by. I have never seen her with a man for longer than just a couple of years before she dumped them. And she has been with John the longest, almost five years by now! That must mean something, considering her usual cheating behavior has just started to show up a few months ago.
John is sitting at the kitchen counter, having his morning coffee and some toast, when I stroll downstairs in my extremely short pajama pants and a tank top that barely manages to cover my breasts. No bra, of course.
I come straight out of the shower, my long wet hair is falling down on my shoulders, leaving little streams of water that are running down my shoulders - and my breasts.
The aim is to drive him wild with desire, wild enough so he cannot resist, knowing that I am not drunk and completely in control of what I truly want.
"Good morning!" I say, casting him an innocent smile as I hop over to the coffeemaker.
He looks up from his newspaper and returns my greeting, a lot less enthusiastic, of course.
I can feel his eyes on my behind as I pour myself a cup of coffee. He is checking me out for sure. I am proven right when I abruptly turn around and he quickly draws his eyes away from me.
"How are you feeling?" He asks, without looking at me. "Hungover?"
"Not at all!" I pipe. "I am feeling great."
"Good," he says. "You were quite... out there. Promise me, that'll never happen again, will you?"
I stroll over to the counter, standing opposite of him while I add some milk to my coffee.
He looks up at me, his face stern. "I should. She would want to know."
"But daddy," I protest. "I wasn't even that drunk! You are totally exaggerating!"
He raises his eyebrows. "I think you were pretty plastered. With the way you were behaving..."
"Why?" I hum, innocently peaking at him as I sip on my coffee. "I wasn't doing anything I wouldn't do again. Even right now."
He clears his throat, unable to return my look. "I highly doubt that."
I narrow my eyes and place my coffee mug on the counter between us.
"You don't believe me?" I ask. "I could show you right now!"
I make a move to take off my tank top, but he stops me by grabbing my right arm. His grip is tight and decisive. It almost causes me to moan.
"Would you please stop that!" He hisses. "What has gotten into you?"
I make a sad face. "You didn't like what you saw, daddy?"
He lets go of my arm and frowns at me. "That's irrelevant."
"It's not to me!" I object. "You know, I am a little insecure about myself... some girls at school said my boobs are too big for my body frame."
He doesn't reply anything, but just shakes his head and makes a move to continue reading his paper.
"So, you don't agree?" I press. "You think they look good? Not too big?"
He doesn't reply anything, but just shakes his head and makes a move to continue reading his paper.
"So, you don't agree?" I press. "You think they look good? Not too big?"
I pull up my shirt until my boobs spring free, seductively bounding in front of him. Of course, he cannot resist the urge to look up. And again, I can see the lust in his eyes, the undeniable desire to take my virgin body just as I want him to.
And again he looks away as quickly as he looked up.
"No, you're fine," he mumbles, staring down on his paper.
"Fine?" I ask. "Just fine?"
He sighs. "You have very nice boobs, Lizzy. Nothing wrong with them - now, cover yourself up, will you."