Taboo: Night At The Erotic Museum (Step Dinosaur Foursome)

by Daisy N. Chains

  There was no doubting the craving that swallowed me—I felt truly in heat. And what I was doing was working. The Dragon moved back, so its cock was momentarily free from my grasp. He gripped me by the hips and flipped me over with his mighty arms, before ripping my jeans down and my knickers off with his talons. A couple of skilful flicks were all it took, and I was nude except for my boots, my neatly trimmed pussy uncovered. He raised me and retained me at his midsection height, my arms and legs dangling.

  The Dragon was obviously fired up, and it was evident the more my husband complained, the more the blood-flow raced down to the beast’s penis. And it was becoming clear that I was soon to be on the receiving end.

  The beast began to rotate me as if I were a new car in a showroom, showing me off to my husband. I'm not being arrogant when I say that I have great toned legs and a taut bubble butt, with cheeks like a firm peach. Jeff was observing with enraptured focus, gazing at my ass and no doubt feeling as though I was his property, as the Dragon's tail playfully whipped my buttocks.

  If my pussy was dripping before, I was now near to flooding as streams of love-juice trickled down my trembling thighs. The Dragon carefully laid me down on my back, on a big tree stump.

  "Valerie, are you ok honey?" asked Jeff, all color still completely drained from his usually rosy cheeks.

  "Of course I'm ok, silly. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm really starting to enjoy myself," I said calmly, Jeff now fully realizing the extent of my arousal.

  As I lay on my back, I gazed up at this sizeable legendary creature before me and felt an eager longing. There was something so dominantly sexy about him, unlike anything I had formerly experienced. The Dragon rubbed his cock, whacking it up and down, making it as stiff as he could. It looked about as long as my arm, and thicker than my wrist.

  I traced my hands down to my pussy again. It was juiced-up and slick, ready for anything the Dragon had in mind. He squatted down like a powerlifter, and pressed the head of his cock up against my flushed entrance. I spread my lips apart to grant him admission.

  The mammoth beef forced itself in, and my tight snatch clamped around the girth. The sensation was glorious—immediate sharp suffering made tolerable by the intertwined bliss that ignited bits of my subconscious that had never before been triggered. The Dragon proceeded to nail me.

  Crouching, with the soles of his feet firmly on the ground, he pumped me with a brutal urgency, his solid pelvis stretching me open while his sturdy cock stuffed my pussy. I felt every inch of his cock, every measure of its great length pressing and kneading my insides. At that moment it felt like the world revolved around his girth, as if the only reason I existed was to be enveloped around his dick.

  Dazed and euphoric, I glanced to my side and looked at Jeff, helplessly bound to the tree and mortified. However, he was clearly excited. He lowered his head to look down at himself, and no doubt felt slightly second-rate. Usually so gallant about his own penis, he was now vacant and useless.

  My groans bombarded my husband’s eardrums like a violent storm, and I could tell he wished there was something he could do. But I knew some part of him was taking pleasure in this—watching his wife getting banged by a mythical reptile, and the bulge in his slacks confirmed this. I think he felt a sense of perverse pride, that the Dragon desired me so much. And I was getting it, taking it. No doubt about it I was pleasing the Dragon, and it withdrew so that just the tip of his gigantic junk was in me, before thrusting back in mercilessly. It was unbelievable and stimulating and at the same time excruciating and gross.

  The Dragon drilled and drilled—I could feel his shaft expand and thicken further as legendary blood ran through it. I could sense he was getting near.

  "Oh Christ, wait for me, I'm not quite there yet," I pleaded, eager for him to keep pounding me until I came. "Hang on, please, just wait a minute," I begged the beast, the exhilaration and soreness driving a tear to my eye and more juice to my snatch.

  I was now absolutely into it, howling in delight as the Dragon penetrated me, over and over. Astonishingly, Jeff had managed to free one of his hands. But, instead of using his free hand to untie himself, he apparently had a more pressing issue to deal with, as he fumbled with his zipper. Soon, he was very busy with his hand between his legs, frantically masturbating as he watched.

  It was weirdly titillating, having this huge colossus fucking me while my husband wanked over us. Dear readers, if you had asked me how my vacation was going to pan out, I would never in a trillion years have been able to forecast this.

  I pumped my hips towards the Dragon's dick, hollering and screeching louder than ever. The monstrous erection spasmed inside me, angry and ready.

  He grabbed me by my waist and lifted me up in the air. He fucked me like he was polishing himself inside me. I was like a wriggling, living blow-up sex doll. I hung there, impaled. I started to orgasm, multiple times, over and over again. I felt my pussy walls expanding, and his size felt like it was going to go right through me and come out of the top of my head. Yet another wave of ecstasy and affliction ran through me. I almost blacked out. The Dragon gave an untamed cry and let loose a flood of sperm that dispersed like a garden sprinkler on full blast, a hot gush of dense sludge that forced me off his cock. I hit the floor, landing on my back on the mud, cum flowing from my abused snatch.

  The Dragon threw his hands up in the air and opened his mouth, and as he did so a fiery breath tore through the air like a flame thrower, singeing Jeff's eyelashes. An ear-splitting roar of glory and pleasure accompanied it, and the Dragon's dick aimed itself straight at me. It rippled and vibrated, as the Dragon beat his own chest like a gorilla, and another fountain of snow-white jizz flew through the air like Christmas party poppers, showering down upon me and completely cum-covering me. I knew the Dragon had big balls, but this was ridiculous—he had more cum than a hundred men.

  The beast let out something that was similar to a contented chuckle, as Jeff came too, his load tiny by comparison as he ruined his leather loafers.

  I had cum in me, and on me. The sperm indiscriminately filled my womb, paddling.

  I lay there for a moment or two, stunned but regaining my senses. I felt pride in the fact that I had made this legendary creature orgasm—I had tamed the wild beast and fulfilled its natural primal desire. I felt the lukewarm, sticky cream-pie dribble out of me. I touched a blob of it and brought it to my lips. There was a lush taste to it and an almost rubbery consistency that really whet my appetite. I cupped my hand and caught it as it dripped, before bringing it to my mouth and gulping it down. For the first time since our encounter with the Dragon, I began to smile.

  The beast glanced about with a barbarous grin, displaying horrifying huge fangs and a satisfied glint in his eyes. He waved his tail and sprinted off into the depths of the jungle.

  At that point I had no idea whether it was possible for a human woman to get impregnated by a dragon. But given the amount he had ejaculated I figured it was pretty likely. Jeff had managed to untie himself, and crawled through the dank soil over to me.

  I thought back to the Dragon's expression, still raw in my mind. He could hunt, he could harvest, and I could help feed. I sure had the bountiful mammaries to do that. I was sure it was cozy in his cave.

  “Let’s never come back here,” muttered Jeff.

  “Sure, sweetie,” I said softly.

  I kind of meant it. But when we got home to the city, I booked a flight back here instead.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  By

  Daisy N. Chains

  I gazed out of the window at the ocean, admiring the sun’s orange-peel-like reflection on the rolling waves.

  “Hey lil sis! Table four needs their appetizers.” I heard a voice from over my shoulder. God, I hated it when she called me that. Just because her dad was banging my mom didn't mean shit.

  I shook my head. “I know they do, Sally. I'll get to it when I'm good and ready.”

  I guess I wouldn't have minded, and wou
ld have acknowledged her more if she wasn't such a bossy-boots at work. Being a waitress wasn't my ideal occupation, but it was made bearable by the fact that the restaurant we worked in was aboard this monumental cruise vessel. And it wasn't as though this job was forever—it was just a temporary thing to do after finishing college, to make ends meet. The travelling and sunbathing out on the deck was nice, so I did enjoy certain parts of it.

  Sally was a year older than me. And I guess she wasn't so bad. Already the men on the ship had started to notice her, and twist and turn with blatant admiration every time she strolled past. But I was capable of turning a few heads myself.

  Every shift Sally took this ‘mom’ position. Just because she got paid slightly more—which was because of the slight age gap. I know someone had to be in charge, but earlier she had completely ignored me when I told her about the strange-looking ship I'd seen silhouetted on the horizon. I wasn't trying to be funny, I had seen the ship, looking all dark and menacing, unlike anything I'd spotted on the seas previously.

  I guess we were friends outside of shift hours, and maybe I did treat her like a bit of a slave-driver whenever we were working. And this particular evening, I was taking the orders and Sally was at the till. A sluggish drip of patrons came and went, most grabbing a quick bite to eat before heading down to the bar to drink the night away. Our eight-customer rush thinned back out and the place was almost empty again. It was a pretty easy job, and I was grateful for the paycheck. I dealt with table four and thought about the strange ship again.

  I got why Sally ignored me about it. I did joke around a lot, but this was genuine. I was on my way to the restaurant when I spotted it. It looked black and old. And kind of dirty. Our ship was obviously way bigger, but this other ship looked mean, kind of sinister. I contemplated telling the Captain about it after my shift. But I figured he probably knew—this was a pretty hi-tech cruise ship we were aboard—I’m sure they had radars and all that other stuff and had spotted it a mile off. It was probably no threat. I'd probably watched too many movies.

  ‘Frickin pirate ship’ were the very first words out of my mouth when I saw Sally in the restaurant, but she clearly wasn't interested. Perhaps I had said ‘Frickin pirate ship’ a few too many times, but it wasn’t like we were that busy with clientele.

  I had just finished re-stocking the napkins when I glanced up and saw some new customers walk in. A family. They took a seat, and I gave them a couple of minutes to peruse the menu before I walked up with my pad and pen, ready to take their order. The man cleared his throat.

  I offered a smile. “Hi there.”

  The husband and wife were already looking pissed and drained. The mother had placed her child, who was sat in a big plastic carrier, on the seat beside her. I looked at the little youngster. You’re why Mommy and Daddy are acting like weenies, I thought to myself, and couldn't help but chortle. The hubby with the throat clearing issue spoke first.

  “Can I take your order?” I offered.

  “We’ll have two mediums. One a margherita, the other pepperoni. You get that, missy?”

  My smile had gone. “For real?” I sighed. “One margherita, one pepperoni. Both mediums.”

  “And I’ll have a coffee.”

  “And I’ll have a diet coke," added the wife. And then, as if to explain why her husband was a dick, “Not enough sleep. Kids, y'know?”

  “Fortunately I don't,” I said. She looked a little shocked at my reply. “Comin' right up,” I added, and walked back behind the counter to the kitchen.

  After giving the chef the order, I walked back to the counter, and saw Sally standing there, her hands on her hips. I knew some words I probably didn't want to hear were about to come out of her mouth, and I braced myself for what my darling 'sister' was about to spit out.

  “Is that drinks tray going to sit there all day?” She moaned, and walked past me towards the kitchen. I couldn't help but giggle at her pathetic power trip.

  Just then the door opened again, and I caught a smell of something kind of strange. I readied myself to greet the new customer and offer them a window seat when I laid eyes on what, and who, it actually was. He lowered his head as he walked into the restaurant to avoid whacking his cranium on the door frame. He was wearing a big black hat, and had an eye patch over his right eye. For a moment there I honestly thought that there was some fancy dress party going on down in the bar. But man, I was wrong.

  My eyes felt like they were too big for their sockets as I stared at the man, shocked at what I was witnessing under the bright fluorescent lighting of the restaurant. The man muttered something as he strode forward, at no one in particular, and walked into the centre of the room. His chin was slightly pointed, underneath a black goatee beard, and his mono-brow was a dense caterpillar that hovered above his serious, shadowy eyes. Gappy teeth were visible through his open lips. I opened my mouth—either to scream or sob, I wasn't sure at that point—but no noise came out except a silent gasp. Too frightened to talk, I turned my back to the pirate and caught Sally’s eye through the steel rack that split the kitchen area from the serving counter. ‘Frickin.’ I mouthed at her. She narrowed her eyes at me, baffled. ‘Frickin. Frickin. Pirate. Ship.’ I mouthed it more carefully, but it was futile. Sally was one dumb bitch.

  “Becca?” she shouted. “I can't hear you!”

  “Pirate!” I said in a half whisper, half shout, at last getting my voice back.

  “Huh?” Sally said, and walked around the rack, out to the counter area. She now had a full view of what I was talking about. I swear she was contemplating complaining that I hadn't offered the man a seat, when she realized what I had been trying to tell her. “Holy shhh...” her words trailed off.

  Just then, the Captain's voice came over the Tannoy. “Alert! Alert! Everybody report to deck. We have an emergen—” Those were the only words that would be uttered over the loudspeaker, as they were followed by rustling, muffled shouting, and a strange squelching noise.

  "What the fuck is going on?" I whispered to my stepsister, who usually seemed to have all the answers. But this time, she stood silent with her jaw wide open.

  She was very pale, and my knees felt like they were about to crumple, but I gripped the countertop to steady myself. We stared at the man. With a huge grubby hand he removed the absurd hat that he had rested onto his mono-browed head, uncovering his skull 'n' bones bandana. On a normal guy, it would have been an act of polite etiquette, taking off one’s hat when entering a dining establishment. However, I got the feeling the pirate was merely readying himself for something. He undid his shirt, revealing an extremely hairy chest, his bulging muscles rippling underneath.

  The chef, along with the handful of customers and waitresses started to panic. The cut-short loudspeaker announcement had definitely raised some immediate concerns. Some clambered for the exit and escaped, some got up from their table and stood there gawping. The pirate effortlessly picked up a table and flung it across the doorway, preventing anyone else from getting out. He meant business, that was for sure.

  The new parents and their baby were the only people stuck in the restaurant with us, which now felt more like a death trap. Me and Sally cowered behind the counter, still unseen, and watched with enraptured attention.

  Suddenly, the pirate turned his head and stared straight at us. Sally screamed, but I just looked on in horror as the man leered at us.

  “Leg it!” I instructed to my sister, now taking charge. She could talk a good game, but I could take control when it mattered. I grabbed her hand and we ran out from the counter and headed for the door. We were struggling with the overturned table that was blocking the exit, when we heard heavy footsteps behind us.

  We turned around, stunned, waiting to see what the pirate's next move would be. Amazingly, he didn't seem so interested in us all of a sudden. He had stopped still, a couple of feet from us. He glanced around the room and sniffed loudly. He had caught a whiff of something. Something he seemed to like.

&
nbsp; He turned and paced towards the family I had taken the pizza order from, just minutes earlier. The throaty man was cowering behind the table, his wife sat petrified.

  “Run to the kitchen!” I yelled at the woman, but it was too late. The pirate clutched the woman around the waist, grabbed a handful of hair and flung her, belly-down on the table.

  “Richard, help!” she wailed, battling and hammering at the pirate's hands, but it was no use, he was far too powerful.

  Richard didn't do anything, he just hid where he was.

  “Hey, leave her alone!” I yelled, really finding my courage, but the pirate wasn't listening.

  He ripped off the woman's blouse and snapped her bra at the back, letting her fat, fleshy breasts hang free off the edge of the table.

  The pirate started caressing the woman's jugs. He was doing it in a gradual, deliberate fashion, pushing in continuous motions. I got the impression he had done this before. He seemed pretty good at it. The woman made tiny sighs and yelps as he did so. I spotted moisture leaking from her nipples, and it started dripping down onto the floor beneath her. I became aware of what was going on, as I felt my pussy pulse under my work pants.

  The pirate bent over and craned his neck up, as if drinking from a high school water fountain. He squeezed a nipple hard, and a jet of snow white milk sprayed through his gappy teeth and into his awaiting mouth. He got on his knees and lapped at the small puddle of milk that had pooled on the floor, like a kitten to a bowl. The woman was visibly shaking and trembling. When he had licked up the mess on the floor, he raised his head and tongued and suckled on the woman's tits like a baby piglet. More and more milk flowed out down the pirate's throat and he gargled and gulped away.

  “I’ve flown the Jolly Roger, I’ve sailed the seven seas, but I’ve never sucked two mammaries as bountiful as these!” the pirate sing-songed.