Filthy Daddy's Taboo Erotic Sex Stories

by Amira Bradford

  Sophie was sprawled, half-dressed, on the hood of her own car, staring at her naked mechanic. He had a body she'd only fantasized about, including the thick red shaft jutting from his groin. Her mouth watered and she licked her lips as she eyed it. She wanted to taste him too, to slide her tongue over his long penis, to slide that throbbing erection into her mouth, her throat. "I want..." she started, her eyes lifting to his. She saw the desire and enjoyment in his brown eyes.

  "Later," he grinned, stepping up between her legs, "When I owe you a favor for letting me fuck you." He had a hand on his cock and his fat head was rubbing up and down her swollen slit. She let her head fall back as she moaned.

  "I guess..." she conceded as his head fit against her pussy and she felt the first stretch of her muscles around his thickness. "Oh, God, Jeremy..." Her moan trailed off as he slowly pushed his penis into her, stretching, filling, overwhelming her. Her legs lifted and his hands guided them, his calloused palms on the back of her thighs as he lifted them so he could push deeper, penetrate to the hilt.

  She felt like his cock throughout her body, from the hot steel rod throbbing inside her pussy, to the heat and pleasure that suffused her limbs and made her quiver for more. Jeremy rested her ankles on his shoulders, his hands stroking her breasts, then settling to the hood on either side of her as he watched the pleasure flood her face. She was wrapped so tightly around his cock, he wasn't sure he could breathe. But the sensation of her inner muscles fluttering against his thickness was not something he was willing to give up.

  Finally her eyes opened and met his. Drowning in her blue depths, he drew his cock back and thrust. Again. Again. Each stroke had breath gasping from her lips and had pleasure flashing through his system. He fell into a fast rhythm, instinctively knowing he'd never last and determined to make her cum again. He wanted to feel her cum on his cock.

  In. Out. Sophie wrapped her hands around his wrists and closed her eyes, arching her back until his cock hit that magic spot. Even as she gasped, he leaned and bore down, thrusting again and again to the same spot, his hands moving to hold her hips still so he could hammer pleasure into her body. She felt him swelling against her pussy walls, his already thick cock becoming even more so. Each thrust was forceful, a battering ram to her pussy, to her core, and she cried out again and again.

  Jeremy was grunting, groaning as he drove them both to orgasm. He couldn't savor her body; his only thought was more, more. Again and again he thrust into her until her eyes flew open and she arched up off the hood. Her pussy clamped around his cock and he groaned as his head went light and the blood surged to his balls. Even as her inner muscles started to relax, her cum enveloping him, his balls clenched and his cock pulsed. His own thick cum shot up into her.

  Sophie cried out, bucking under him, as he ejaculated once, and again, and again. He fell onto her, pinning her to the hood, as he emptied into her. She shuddered and went limp beneath him, her hands stroking up his back, curling in his hair. When he could breathe, Jeremy shifted back, sliding his spent cock free, then lifted himself on his elbows and gave her a cocky grin. "Mighty nice car, Miss Kendall," he drawled, "And a sweet little body to go with it."

  She returned the smile. "I guess you know your cars," she murmured, "And your favors."

  "I'd say you're paid in full, baby," he growled, nipping lightly at the corner of her mouth before giving her a kiss. "In fact, I might even owe you one."

  "I'll be happy to collect," she pressed a kiss to his jaw, then ran her tongue over his day's growth of beard. "I know exactly what I want."

  The End.

  Mystery Girl

  He had been looking at her for the past twenty minutes. She was in a conversation that seemed to be boring her.

  "Why don't you just go talk to her?" asked his best friend Mike.

  "Because I don't know her, and she already has someone entertaining her." Ken replied with some attitude.

  "Well it doesn't seem like she wants his company." He replied looking her way." Or you could go over and offer to buy her a drink."

  Ken knew Mike was just trying to help but it was becoming irritating. He had been with Tonya for three years, and not sure if the break up would be permanent.

  "Look, find out her name and I'll go talk to her." Ken replied, looking away from the mystery girl.

  Mike looked at him skeptically, then decided he meant it. "I'm serious Ken. If I find out her name and you don't go talk to her, I'm going to knock some teeth out." Mike looked out at the crowd, "come on!"

  Mike had pulled him through the crowd to some girl named Ana, "Ay yo, Ana!" Mike yelled over the music.

  Ana was an average sized girl with straight hair, almond shaped eyes, full lips, a body men craved and most women envied. Tonight she wore a red halter top, a mini skirt and strap heels.

  "Yo Ana, who is that girl over there by the bar?" he said pointing to the mystery girl.

  "Oh, that's my girl Kay," she replied with a Spanish accent. "She don't talk to a lot of guys, she picky." She looked over at Kay and waved when she looked. "so if you trying to get with her, you have to have the right equipment," she said looking back at them.

  "Oh, she's not for me, Ken been looking all night. I just thought I'd help him out. I am looking at something I like though." He replied winking at her.

  "Well, I think I can help you and Ken out with your problems," she replied winking back. Grabbing both by the hand, she led them over to the bar.

  "Kay!" Ana yelled. Kay looked towards them with thankful eyes. "Hey Kay, these are my friends," she pulled Mike and me in front of her. "This is Mike," she tapped his arm "and Ken." She said tapping Ken's arm.

  "Hey," Mike and Ken both said at the same time.

  "You looked bored with that guy, so I thought I'd bring Ken over to keep you company." She pushed me forward.

  With a confused look on her face she said, "Um... ok, hi Ken."

  "Well ok then, Mike and I are going to go dance and you can talk with Ken; how does that sound, great!" she winked at me and pulled Mike away to the dance floor.

  He looked down to see that Kay was staring up at him. "Um..do..do you want to go sit down?" He asked timidly.

  She nodded yes, so Ken led her to the table he had sat at with Mike. After a few silent minutes he looked back at Kay. She seemed to be in deep thought. "Are you alright?" he asked.

  "Um, yeah. It's just that Ana going to end up leaving with Mike and she drove me here. Even though I told her I didn't want to come." She looked at Ken.

  "I can drive you home," he suggested.

  "I don't even want to be there. They are going to end up going home and doing the...well you know." She replied with distaste.

  "You can stay at mine and Mike's place until the morning," he offered.

  She looked at him and he could tell she was going to say something smart.

  "WHAT KIND OF--" she began only for me to cut her off.

  "Look, I didn't mean it that way. I just was saying you could stay there for the night or I could leave you here." He replied defending himself. They both looked up at the surroundings when a guy walked by and winked at her

  Looking back at Ken with shock and disgust she said, "Ok then, I think I'm going with you."

  On the way back to Ken's house they talked about random things; music, how they met thier best friends, parents and more. When they reached the house, they went inside.

  "Um, you have three options to sleep," he said looking at her. She was looking around the room and then her eyes landed on him again.

  "What are they?" she asked.

  He sat down on the couch then replied "My room, Mike's room or the couch."

  She sat down beside him "Wherever you think is more comfortable." She replied.

  He looked at her then replied "Well, my room would be more ideal; for the simple fact that I don't know how Mike's room looks and the couch may hurt your back."

  "Where will you sleep?" she asked

  "I can withstand either
one."

  "Ok then," she said looking around. "one question."

  "Yeah?"

  "Where is the bathroom?"

  Looking at her and the back to the TV, "Come on ill show you." Turning off the TV, he went to the stairs with her following. They went up stairs and stopped at the first door on the right. "Here we are."

  "Thanks." Kay walked into the bathroom, locked the door and walked over to the sink. She splashed cold water on her face, and then used a tissue to take off her mascara. After drying her face and hands, she took one last look in the mirror and left the bathroom.

  Walking out of the bathroom, she ran into Ken. "Oh my god!" she gasped "I'm sorry I didn't realize you were standing there." When she spoke, there was a hint of a Spanish accent her didn't hear before.

  "It's ok, now I know next time not to stand so close." He laughed.

  "Why were you standing there in the first place?" she asked with a hint of anger.

  "I was waiting so I could show you where you were going to sleep."

  Searching his face, she saw that he was just trying to be nice. "Well then, lead on."

  Ken looked at her, then chuckled. Thinking to himself, 'Boy did I pick up a feisty one.' Leading Kay to the room he was saying to himself, 'Wow, don't I have to thank Ana and Mike for this one.'

  Reaching the room, Ken said, "here we are." Looking around the room, Ken thought his room was fine. It had a king sized bed, 2 dressers, a nightstand, a chair and a 24 inch flat screen TV.

  Looking around the room then at him she said, "looks perfect."

  "I'll be back in a few minutes," he stated walking out the door.

  Kay put her purse down on the long dresser, then moved to looked around the room. Ken returned a few minutes later with new bed sheets, a blanket and pillow cases. He put the stuff down, then started to strip the bed.

  "Do you want help?" she asked

  Looking over his shoulder, he said, "No it's ok, just sit down."

  She watched him move about, the whole time wondering why he was being so nice. Ken finished the bed then looked at her; she seemed to be in deep thought as before.

  "Well the bed is made," he said examining her face.

  Shaking her head she looked at him and then the bed, "Oh okay, thanks again."

  Ken searched her face for any reason on why she had zoned out.

  "Do you always do that?" he finally asked.

  Looking at him with surprise, "What do you mean?"

  "Do you zone out all the time? Because, It seems like you do it a lot." Still searching her face for an answer he moved over to the long dresser. Opening the first drawer he had grabbed a pair of boxers. Closing that drawer he open another, and pulled out sleeping pants and a shirt.

  He looked Kay up and down then asked, "Do you want a shirt or something?"

  "Um...sure"

  Ken handed her the shirt and she smiled at him. Looking at her he realized she had a nice smile and a dimple on her left cheek. Ken stared at her, becoming captivated by her beauty. She had dark brown tight curled hair, perfect lips, not quite almond shaped eyes, a light caramel complexion, and to top it off, a perfectly shaped body.

  Realizing he was staring, he turned to look at the clock on the nightstand, it read 12:30.

  "Well I guess you probably want to go to sleep. I'm going to take a shower and watch some TV downstairs, so if you need me, I'll be in either place," he said, walking out the room and closing the door behind him.

  Walking down the hallway he thought, 'Wow a beautiful girl in my bedroom. How did I even manage that? Oh yeah Mike and Ana wanted to be nosy.'

  Once he reached the bathroom, he stripped out of his clothes and turned on mostly cold water. Even though it was more than he could handle, he just wanted the thoughts out of his head. Twenty minutes later, he got out, dried himself off, dressed and went downstairs.

  About an hour and a half had passed, finding nothing to watch, he settled for an old comedy. From the stairs he heard someone call him.

  "Ken?"

  Looking at her with awe, he replied, "Yes, Kay."

  "I couldn't sleep, so I thought that you could keep me company," she replied looking like a little kid.

  "Um... sure, what did you have in mind?"

  "I just thought we could talk some more and hopefully I would end up sleeping."

  Looking at her wearing his shirt, waiting for him; seeing her like that brought back a feeling he only had with Tonya. Looking her over one more time he asked, "Do you want to stay down here or go upstairs?"

  "Upstairs would be better I guess."

  Ken turned off the TV and light, and followed her up the stairs. Ken had fallen back on purpose, just so he could see the way she moved. Once they reached the room, Kay crawled under the blanket, while Ken laid on top. Ken laid on his back and crossed his arm over his eyes. Feeling someone looking at him, he looked over at Kay. She was propped up on her right arm looking at him.

  "Hey, you have hazel eyes! I hadn't noticed," She exclaimed

  "Changes depending on my mood," he replied covering his eyes again.

  "Oh," she said looking at his face. "What are you feeling right now?"

  Uncovering his eyes and looking at her he replied, "A lot more than I realized."

  Feeling that the conversation was getting personal, Kay changed the subject. Once again they talked about random things until Kay fell asleep.

  Looking down at Kay, he thought, 'This is a great girl and I hope this isn't a one night thing.' As if sensing he was thinking about her she moved closer to him; which made some of her hair fall in her face. Gently, he pushed it out her face, but her reaction surprised him.

  She put her head on his chest and slung her arm over his middle. Still shocked by what she'd done, he waited a few minutes until he felt she was sleeping again. After a few moments, he wrapped his arm around her waist.

  'Definitely something I don't want to lose!" he thought to himself.

  The End.

  Three Strikes, I'm Out?

  My heart skipped a beat when the boss stopped by my cubicle, and I'm sure I blushed when his eye caught mine. I was on the phone with a client, and suddenly very conscious of my end of the conversation - especially when the boss smiled and gave me a thumbs up as he listened - but also eager to get off the phone so I could find out why he had stopped by to see me. My position was very much an entry-level one, so even though I knew him to be a hands-on leader, it was unusual that he'd stop by a cubicle like mine. For a moment, I indulged the thought that he would ask me out, but quickly focused on work again, conscious that he was listening carefully to my phone conversation.

  "Nice work, Bailey," he said, reaching out to shake my hand, "glad to hear such a professional approach with our clients over the phone!"

  "Wow, thanks, Mr..."

  "No need to be so formal, Bailey," he interrupted me, "please, call me Jason."

  "Oh, really? Well, thanks, Jason! So, what can I do for you?"

  "Well, I'm a little disappointed in you. You know we've been trying to put together a team for the softball league, and yet you don't share with me that you were a star on your college team?"

  "Well, that was a few years ago. And I don't know if I'd use the word 'star'..."

  "Are you kidding? We're not exactly a pro league, we need every decent player we can get! And once Laura in accounting spilled your secret, I looked up your college stats. If you hit only half as well as you did your senior year, you'd be a great addition to our lineup! Oh, and I really need a catcher I can count on."

  "So you're the pitcher?" I really hadn't thought much about playing since graduating two years back and deciding to focus on my career. But the thought of being able to play with Jason - I still couldn't believe he wanted me to call him Jason - was definitely a selling point. I'd had a huge crush on this guy since the first time we'd met.

  "That's me - pitcher, wrangler of new members of the team, pretty much a utility man when it comes to keeping this team runni
ng. So, are you in?"

  "Sure, count me in. When do we practice?"

  "Well, unfortunately I'll need you to jump right into a game - our first game is Friday. You up for it? Our next practice isn't until next Tuesday."

  "Sure, what the heck. Why not!"

  "Alright, I'll make sure we have a uniform for you tomorrow, and I'll e-mail you the full schedule and directions to the field where we play. Thanks so much, Bailey, knew I could count on you to be a team player - literally!"

  My phone rang again, and Jason said, "Alright, back to work - see you tomorrow!"

  *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

  I had to admit, it was exciting to be back on the field again, especially without the pressure of playing for a winning college team. A few of the colleagues I already knew greeted me when I arrived at the field that Friday evening, and I was quickly introduced to those I hadn't met. It was an odd feeling at first, putting on the catcher's gear, but I soon felt at home as I crouched behind the plate, awaiting the first delivery from Jason. I had a great top of the first, throwing out a runner who attempted to steal second, and was having a great time catching pitches again. Slow-pitch was a big adjustment from the fast-pitch I'd played in college, but I quickly remembered the pleasure of being part of a team, the joy of competition.

  Jason had put me in the lineup as the cleanup hitter, a vote of confidence which I wore proudly as I marched up to the plate for my first at-bat, with two of my teammates on base. Swing, strike one. Wow, I was way ahead of that pitch. I thought I'd made the adjustment by playing catcher, but apparently I was still off. Oh well, shake it off. Swing, strike two. OK, Bailey, calm down. I called time, stepped out of the batter's box, leaned the bat against my legs, and reached up to adjust my cap, tightening the hairband holding up my long blonde ponytail. Alright, this is it. Swing, strike three. I sulked back to the bench and hung my head. I hadn't struck out swinging since, like, ever!

  One at-bat was just one at-bat, I told myself. Harder to tell myself that when the game was over, and I'd gone 0-4. My teammates were fine with it - after all, it was my first game, and it was just for fun anyway! Oh, and we'd managed to win, in spite of my complete inability to hit anyone in. But my inner athlete had returned, the competitive spirit that had made me a successful college player, and I was humiliated by being unable to catch up to - or I should say, slow down for, the balloon pitches from the opposing pitcher.