Ramona Scarlett’s Giant TOO TABOO Mega Bundle (Twenty Story Step Taboo Household Erotica Box Set)

by Ramona Scarlett

  “Daddy… Daddy, you’re ripping me apart,” I moved, shuddering as my body struggled to adapt itself to the intrusion into me ass. I writhed around his cock, feeling even the tiniest movements he made, loving the way he grunted and groaned inside of me as I moved.

  “Daddy, you like it, don’t you? You like being in my ass…” I moaned, gripping one of my nipples so hard I felt like it might bleed. He just pulled my head back by the pigtails and began to plow his cock into my ass, marrying each vicious thrust with an animalist, bestial grunt.

  “Fuck, Kelly, you’ve got an asshole like an angel,” he groaned. I squealed in delight, each of his strokes pressing my pussy down onto the bathroom counter. I squeezed my eyes shut once again. I practically couldn’t deal with the sheer intensity of the pleasure and pain. Staring straight into the bathroom mirror in front of me, I marveled at what a slutty, filthy sight we made: my father, such a handsome, distinguished man, absolutely defiling his pretty little daughter, doing such filthy, nasty things to her…

  “More, daddy! Tell me that I’m your good little slut!” I all but screamed, hoping against hope that no one else in the house would hear.

  “That’s right, baby doll. You’re daddy’s good little slut!”

  Hearing that was enough to push me over the edge. I moaned, letting myself go. I felt my body shudder and shake, orgasm ripping through me as my pussy spurted juices all over my father and my ass clenched and unclenched around my father’s turgid cock. That must have pushed my father over the edge to because moments later, I felt his cock start to spurt inside of me, pumping and filling my tight canal with his hot, sticky seed. He doubled over me, gripping me tight by the hair as he emptied his balls into my young, soft, pink, and formerly virgin ass. My father had just cummed in my ass, just filled it up with his seed. I would never be able to forget this and I loved it. I loved the way his touch, the feeling of his cum and his sweat and his love, felt seared onto my flesh.

  Finally, he pulled out of me with a lewd pop.

  “They grow up so fast…” I heard him mumble to himself as he zipped himself up and stumbled out of the bathroom, leaving me alone in a puddle of cum and spent passion.

  Seeded By My Step

  “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his face showing no emotion. Even as he waited for my answer, he was sliding my shirt up over my head. I never wanted him to stop…

  Eighteen year old Nora has just discovered an amazing secret about the man of the house—one that will change her relationship with him entirely! Suddenly, she finds herself feeling new passions, new desires for her step, the man who raised her and took care of her ever since she was a child… And she’s not the only one who feels that way… Now, she’s fantasizing about all the nasty things he could do to her, even about the idea of being seeded and bred…

  Summer is about to heat up with this taboo tale of sensual step romance and spice! Don’t you dare miss it!

  “She’s not your daughter, Chris. She never was and she never will be.”

  The words hung in the air like a sword of Damocles, about to fall and destroy everything I had ever known, ever valued.

  I froze in my tracks when I heard those words. It was late one spring night, a few weeks after my eighteenth birthday. I was padding down to the kitchen for a glass of water, eyes heavy with sleep still, when I noticed the light on in the living room. The bright green numbers on the oven told me it was past three in the morning, so what was anyone doing up at this hour? I started to head towards the light when I heard my mother say those words.

  “Angela. What the hell are you saying? You can’t be serious.”

  I heard my mother’s frustrated sigh.

  “Do the fucking math. You were deployed twelve months. I had Nora two months before you came back.”

  “That’s close. Maybe she was… late.” It was a last, pathetic chance to make things right.

  “Chris, she wasn’t late. She’s just not yours.”

  I hid behind the doorframe and peaked around its edge. There, in our manicured, suburban living room—it could’ve been on Mad Men or Leave It to Beaver, it was so tastelessly outdated—sat my mother and the man I had thought was my father. Mom, prim and upright, still in her flowy “I Wish I Lived in Northern California” outfit from earlier today, clutched a glass of white wine, her fingers stretched like pallid spider webs across the glass. Daddy, his strong body crumpled on the couch, slowly swirled a tumbler of whiskey. The whiskey swirled slower and slower until his hand finally stopped.

  He wasn’t old by any stretch of the imagination. Out of all my friends’ dads, he was the youngest, at 41. I was 18, so that would have made him 23 when I was born. Where was he deployed then? Bosnia? Somalia? I know he saw fighting, and I know he was a hero: we get a nice Christmas card every year from the mother of a wounded private he dragged three miles through hostile territory to a medic’s station.

  My dad was a big man. Not fat, understand—just big. He stands 6’4, maybe 6’5 when he doesn’t slouch. He played football in high school and joined the Marines as soon as he graduated. He started working in construction once he got out and even though his light brown hair is starting to gray just a little bit, he looks like he could be ten years younger. His shoulders and chest go on forever: one of my earliest memories is lying on his belly as a toddler and stretching my head up to reach his heart. I felt like my entire face could disappear in the expanse of his chest and never be seen again.

  But this, this was something I’d never seen. He looked defeated. He looked crushed. He looked… like someone else. I was so used to seeing my father, dusty and dirty from a day of work but happy, with a bright, toothy grin on his face.

  “So, what are we going to do now?” he said finally, looking up at my mother pathetically.

  “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t make this work. I haven’t wanted this for years.”

  “Sharon, let’s work this out. We’ll see someone.”

  “You said you would see someone after you came back from the service. You’ve been saying you’ll see someone for years. I can’t do this anymore, Chris. I can’t deal with the nightmares, I can’t deal with your panic attacks, I can’t deal with the way you… You change. I’m sorry.”

  My father was silent. I knew he had some issues after he came back but nothing ever seemed that bad to me. What the hell had they been hiding from me?

  “Who was it?” my dad said after a few moments.

  “Who?”

  “Nora’s father. Her real father. Her biological father,” he said, as if editing each statement with another one.

  “You don’t know him. He was a friend from high school.”

  “Do you still see him? Does he know?”

  “No and yes.”

  He downed the rest of his whiskey in one gulp. “And he… He never wanted to be part of her life? He never cared?”

  “He was a dumb kid, just like me. He knew she’d be fine so… Why worry about it?”

  My dad went quiet again.

  “I’ll be going to stay with my parents for a while,” my mom said. “I think it’s best if Nora stays here to finish up her senior year. Once she’s settled at college, we can go through with the divorce. Do you think you can take care of things here for the next few months?”

  “Do I really have a choice?”

  My mom shrugged.

  “You always have a choice. You could run away too.”

  Neither of them said anything for a while. Finally, my mom disappear up the stairs, to bed. I wanted to go to my father, to hug him and hold him and tell him I’d always love him, regardless of whether or not we were linked by blood. I just couldn’t will my body to move. I couldn’t cross the threshold into the goofy 1950’s living room and curl up with him on the couch and tell him that everything would be all right. Instead, I glided out of the kitchen and back to my bedroom, for a sleepless night.

  ~

  It took waking up the next morning, after finally falling bac
k asleep around five, for the revelation to really sink in. Christopher Miller, the man I thought was my real father for the past eighteen years, was… a stranger? No, that couldn’t be true. He was still my father, as much as my mother was my mother, as much as it counted, at least. He was just like a step-father.

  And then my mother… leaving. That upset me less than I thought it would. If anything, I was just angry—angry at her for cheating on my dad while he was overseas, angry at her for leaving him now, and angry at her for not trying to understand whatever issues he was having.

  I figured they would tell me sometime in the morning or after school. We’d have a big, family meeting. They would sit me down and tell me the “truth,” assure me that they both loved me very, very much and this wasn’t my fault. I had seen enough TV to know how these things worked.

  Besides, the thought of it just being my dad and me wasn’t that bad. He’d always been more fun than my mom. We’d have pizza for dinner every night. I was already accepted to college, so he didn’t care if I did my homework or not. He wouldn’t nag me about practicing violin.

  And I could do whatever I want with him, since he’s not my dad.

  Woah, where did that thought come from? Lying in my bed, I mentally recoiled. He was my dad, for Christ’s sake. Even if we’re not related by blood, I couldn’t possibly think about that.

  But I did. Oh boy, I did. My mind took off: suddenly, he looked totally different to me. Not only was he my daddy, ready to pick me up and kiss my bruises and drive me to track meets, but also… a man. A man with needs, wants, desires. A man built like a Norse god who could still pick me up and throw me over his shoulder if he wanted, or into bed…

  I was blushing. This was disgusting, I told myself. And even if it weren’t, there’s no way he would be okay with it. My daddy was an honorable man. He didn’t mess around with things like this.

  Full disclosure: I was still a virgin. My friends didn’t know this (I told them I lost it at sleep away camp when I was sixteen) and I had never had a real boyfriend. Sure, I kissed Todd Adams a couple times under the bleachers at football games and he had awkwardly grabbed my ass while we made out but that was actually as far as I had ever gotten. Between track, violin, and homework, who had time for a boyfriend, let alone sex? It was just too much to manage!

  I got up and went to the bathroom. I dropped my pajamas on the floor and took in my naked body in the full-length mirror. I’ve always been pretty small for my age. I’m 5’1 and I don’t think I’ll keep growing. That probably should have been a tip off that I wasn’t my father’s daughter. I wonder how short my biological father was?

  I’m skinny too, from running track. Frankly, I think I look way younger than I really am: I’ve got small tits and my face is cute and girlish. I get mistaken for a freshman all the time. I’ve got my mother’s red hair, blue eyes, and freckles, along with her pale complexion. Or maybe that’s my biological father’s pale complexion? Maybe I’ll never know.

  I turned on the hot water in the shower and as I got in, I imagined my dad coming into the bathroom all of a sudden. He’d be naked, his… His cock would be erect. Without saying a word, he’d get into the shower behind me, wrap me up in his arms. I’d feel his hot lips on my neck. Maybe he’d pick me up so he could kiss me better? He’s strong enough that he could do that. He’d be so gentle at the same time. And when we were finished, he’d kiss me one last time and tell me how this would be our little secret…

  I dropped a hand down to my pussy. I began to stroke myself. In a few minutes, I was bracing myself against the shower wall, biting back torrid moans as I climaxed in a beautiful explosion that made my knees buckle. I stood there for a moment, savoring the after glow, the warm water washing over my hot body, the shame and the passion present in equal amounts.

  After my shower, I got dressed. I picked out a cute little plaid skirt and a white blouse. It made me look like a Catholic school girl—in fact, I had used it as part of a Halloween costume to that very end a few months prior. I unbuttoned a couple of the top buttons to show off my cleavage but then I remember that I didn’t really have any and the shirt just made it look like I had gotten distracted halfway through dressing.

  It was about that point when I looked myself in the eye and said aloud:

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  I buttoned up my blouse and went down to the kitchen. The smell of coffee greeted me, along with my dad, dressed in jeans and an old t-shirt. He managed hundreds of construction workers now, and this was what he wore to work every single day.

  “’morning, daddy,” I said as sweetly as I could. He glanced at me and smiled, though it was a pretty weak smile.

  “Hiya, sweetheart,” he said over his coffee and the sports section of the paper.

  “Daddy, were you and mom up late last night? I thought I heard voices. Maybe I just dreamed it.”

  My father’s smile disappeared. He put down his coffee.

  “Your mother and I had a talk last night and… We’re going to be spending some time apart for a little bit. She just left for grandma and grandpa’s.”

  “Why?” I asked, sitting down. “What happened?”

  “Well, sometimes, we just need time apart. All couples are like that.”

  “Did something happen?”

  His face darkened.

  “No… Nothing happened. But it’s just going to be you and me here, for a while. Until you go off to college.”

  I met his eyes.

  “Are you and mom getting a divorce?”

  “We… might.”

  I put my hand on his. “Can I stay here with you? Do I have to go live with grandma and grandpa too?”

  “You’re eighteen now. You can do whatever you want, sweetheart.”

  “Well, I want to stay here with you. You’re my dad.”

  I thought he was going to cry. He squeezed my hand. All the while, I was yearning to hear the truth from him.

  ~

  I was totally distracted at school. Fortunately, everyone else had senioritis and my teachers were just happy I had shown up. All my friends could talk about were prom dresses and who would ask whom to the dance. I hadn’t been asked yet and I wasn’t all that surprised… I figured I would just go with a group of friends, anyway. Boys could wait until college, I had always figured.

  Or maybe my dad could take me to prom? No, now that was a truly ridiculous idea.

  After school, I had one of my last track practices of the year. I spent most of it chatting with the junior girls—they were all aflutter, planning college visits for the summer. It was an easy, lazy practice and over all too soon.

  As soon as I got home, I stripped off my shorts and t-shirt, my sweaty socks and the sports bra that I probably didn’t really need (have I ever mentioned how small my boobs are?) and hopped in the shower. I was tired enough this time that I wasn’t even tempted to touch myself… Much. I found my fingers absent-mindedly drifting up to my nipples, but that didn’t mean anything.

  Our teachers had basically given up on assigning us homework, so I had nothing to do. I texted some friends to see if anyone wanted to go out for ice cream and while I waited to hear back, I changed into my bathing suit (a bright, neon blue bikini that I LOVE) and went into the back yard to swim in our pool. It’s a pretty tiny pool and kind of pathetic compared to how big some of my friends’ pools are, but that’s Arizona for you.

  As I floated on my back, I stared up at the pink sky and watched it darken with each passing minute. I tried to keep an ear out for my phone, in case someone texted me back, but I must have nodded off, because the next thing I remembered was jumping at the slam of the screen door leading into the backyard.

  “Did you do your homework?” my dad asked as he stepped out of the house. He was flushed and sweaty from a day of work, and carried a recently opened bottle of Corona with him.

  “No homework,” I said with a grin. “My homework is to relax.”

  “Sounds nice. I wish my tea
chers had given me that assignment.”

  “Should’ve gone to college,” I shot back. Maybe this sounds mean, but it isn’t: dad always thought college was kind of silly, while I and my mother were pretty much obsessed with it. He liked to point out that he never went to college and now, he made plenty of money and he had great benefits as a result of being in the services.

  My dad set down his beer and stripped off his shirt. His burly, tanned chest and back were revealed to me, covered in a handful of nicks and scars incurred on the battlefield and the construction site alike. He had already changed into shorts and now, he performed a regulation-perfect dive into our pool, stopping short of going too far and crashing into the other side. He came up, shaking water from his head like a dog.