EROTICA: 10 GROUP MMF FIRST TIME TABOO BRAT SEX STORIES (MEGA COLLECTION BUNDLE: Man of the House, MFF, MMF, Alpha Men Gang, Menage Romance — BONUS FREE BOOK: Stepbrother Forbidden Romance)

by Sophia Taboo

  “Listen, Timothy,” I said, “this is the only way that I can have a baby. I never married before I met your dad, and I have no intention of ever being unfaithful to him. But he’s not able to get me pregnant. He won’t accept that fact, but if I was to become pregnant, and the baby was to resemble him, he would be so happy. And I…” I got lost for a moment. The years of horrible dates, terrible boyfriends, hopeless night after hopeless night of wishing for the perfect man to appear so I could marry him and carry his child caught up to me for the span of a breath, but I pressed on. “I could finally have child.”

  Tears were welling up in my eyes. I could see that he was softening but reluctant. I didn’t know how else to say it, but I said the only thing I could think.

  “You are my only hope of ever bearing a child.”

  He stared at me as I sank into a kitchen chair. He leaned back against the counter next to the fridge and considered his position.

  “He’d never know?” he asked.

  “He’d never know,” I confirmed.

  “And it’s all done separate, I mean, I go, then you go?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Oh man,” he shook his head, took a breath just the way his father did, then looked at me with those blue eyes, those cloned blue eyes, and said, “When do I go in?”

  I couldn’t even speak. I leapt up out of the chair and embraced him, my arms around his muddy, sweaty neck. He smelled like a locker room but I didn’t care.

  “Thank you, Timothy,” I wept into his shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “Just,” he said, disengaging from me, “don’t mention it. Seriously, please, don’t mention it.”

  He took his sandwich and his rugby bag and marched up the stairs in a daze. I stood in the kitchen and breathed. I was going to have a baby. At last I was going to have a –

  The key turned in the lock and in marched Robert.

  I wiped my eyes, took a cleansing breath, and went to the cabinet for a glass. I poured myself a glass of tap water and was halfway through drinking it before he was in the kitchen with me. I finished it off as he opened the fridge and dug out a bottle of beer.

  “Hey honey,” I said smiling, “how was work?”

  “Fine,” he grunted, taking his beer and marching straight into the garage to work, I assumed, on his model cars. Fine by me, I thought. The less I have to hide what’s happening right now, the better.

  Chapter 5

  The next morning, I was practically glowing. I tried to keep my happiness and excitement under control until the boys had left for work and school, but I was overjoyed. I made coffee and breakfast for everyone and saw Robert off at 6:00 AM as usual. He was still uncomfortably silent, but in a few weeks, he would get to say, “See! I told you we’d do it!” and all would be well with the world.

  Timothy came down the stairs as soon as the door closed and he stopped at the base of the stairs, looking me in the eyes as I stood at the front door. I latched it and asked him what was the matter.

  “I need to tell you something,” he said. My heart slammed into the back of my throat and my stomach felt like a bag of snakes.

  “Okay,” I managed to say.

  “I can’t do it,” he said plainly.

  All I could do was stammer, like that same fish that he was yesterday.

  “I can’t go to the hospital and do this,” he elaborated. “I just hate being there too much. There’s no way I can… um…” he indicated downward with his eyes, “you know… if I’m in a hospital. I, um…” he faltered again but forced himself to press on, “I tried last night while I thought about a hospital, and I couldn’t… you know,” he indicated downwards again.”

  “Oh,” was all I could think to say.

  “But,” he said, “I don’t want to totally leave you hanging.” Something was making him very uncomfortable. And there was something different about him this morning. I couldn’t tell what it was.

  “There’s one other way, and I think it gives everyone what they want, when you think about it,” he said. His hair! I realized. And his clothes! He’s actually dressed and he’s done his hair! He looks, rather nice, I thought. Why is he dressed and looking rather nice, I worried silently.

  “And what is that?” I asked hesitantly.

  He took a step closer, descending the last two steps from the staircase and coming just a foot away from me, his sky-blue eyes lining up with mine.

  “The ‘natural way,’” he said simply.

  “Oh my God, Timothy,” I exclaimed and backed away, bumping into the front door. “Are you serious?”

  “I’m completely serious,” he said taking another step closer. “I thought about it all night. There’s no way I can do what I need to do to help you if I’m at a hospital, but if we do this the ‘natural way,’ I’m sure I can give you what you need.”

  He took another step closer. My heart was pounding in my chest like a jackhammer. There was something else about him right then, I couldn’t describe it if I tried, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

  “I want to help you have a baby, and I want to make my dad and you happy,” he said, stepping so close to me now that my breasts brushed up against his stony chest. “This is how I can do that.”

  His hand crept around my waist, cupping my lower back and pulling me closer to him. Our breathing synced up as we stared into each other’s eyes. His smell was intoxicating.

  “Timothy,” I said weakly, “this is wrong. In-vitro is one thing, but this?”

  “I know,” he said softly, his lips brushing up against my ear, “but this is how it’s got to be.”

  His mouth trailed down my neck, and he placed one, two, three soft kisses down his path to my shoulder. My neck craned of its own volition to allow him whatever room he needed to do what he was going to do.

  His left hand stayed where it was on my back, his right hand came up to brush aside the collar of my black blouse. His mouth continued down my shoulder and he kissed my collarbone again and again, making his way toward my center. My head lolled out of the way without me thinking about it as his right hand moved from my shoulder to cup my breast. He squeezed and my knees buckled every so slightly as a wave of pleasure moved through me. He massaged my breast as his mouth continued its path of kisses along my right collarbone and up the right side of my neck to my ear. He took my earlobe, small pearl earring and all, and sucked it into his mouth. I tingled from head to abdomen, my thighs beginning to spread and warm against his body.

  His mouth kissed along my cheek until his lips hovered above mine, brushing lightly against them. Our breaths intermingled, but of us on a razors edge, and he pressed his lips against mine with a passion I had long forgotten could exist. His tongue slid past my teeth and into my mouth where it wrestled with and slid against mine. Where did he learn to kiss like this? I thought, not really caring.

  I kissed him back with every part of my being and pressed my body against his. My arms wrapped around his neck and my fingers buried themselves into his shaggy black hair.

  His hands moved to the buttons of my blouse and began to undo them. As he moved from button to button, his knuckles brushed against my breasts and my nipples grew hard, making their presence known through the sheer fabric of my bra and blouse. I was getting wet and I didn’t even realize that I was grinding my inner thighs against him. I could feel his cock growing and hardening as I moved against him and I wanted to continue to feel it.

  He reached the bottom button and his hands cupped my breasts once again, massaging and shifting the fabric out of their way. My hands fell off of his neck and he slid my shirt off of me like water. He took me firmly in his grip and squeezed me, pressing his tongue once more deeply into my mouth. My fingertips squeezed into his back, his muscles rippling at my touch, my nails scratching him not enough to hurt, but enough to elicit a grunt of pleasure from him.

  He found the clasp of my bra and fumbled with it, trying to smoothly remove it. After a few tries, he found where the hook an
d eye met and was able to unclasp it. I giggled in spite of myself as I let the black lace bra slide to the floor. His head pulled back for a moment and he gazed at me, topless in our living room, his hands on my waist, his cock hard and pushing his jeans away from his thighs. In that moment, there was the chance for me to stop this. This is wrong, I thought. This is not my husband. This is my stepson. But the thought wasn’t as strong as he was. Before I could allow the thought to take hold, he pressed me up against the front door, and slid his hands down the back of my skintight white pants. He cupped and squeezed my ass and I felt my pussy open, the folds getting wet and inviting what I now knew was coming.

  He slid his hands around to the front, never letting my mouth leave his, and we both fumbled with each other’s pants buttons. I unhooked his belt and unbuttoned his button fly. He maneuvered my zipper down and, using my pants like stirrups, pulled me to him. We rolled through the room, our backs sliding and rolling across the banister and walls until we were up against the arm of the couch.

  I pressed him up against the couch and reached into his pants, grabbing his cock in my hand and squeezing its steely hot hardness. I began to rub him up and down his shaft, my left hand caressing his broad, muscular chest. He grunted with pleasure and I paused, letting go of him only long enough to slide his jeans down his powerful thighs for him to step out of them.

  I stood back up, only long enough to grip my own pants and slide them down, over my ass, and down to the floor, where I stepped out of them and stood before my naked stepson, his massive erection throbbing with desire. For a breath, we admired each other. Then I was on him again.

  I kissed him passionately and felt his cock throb and grind against my thigh, trying to find its way into my hot, wet pussy. I felt myself drip a little as the tip of his cock brushed against my pussy’s lips. When was the last time I actually dripped? I thought.

  Suddenly, he grabbed me around the waist and inverted our positions. Without knowing how, I was facing the couch, the fabric pressing into my thighs, and he was behind me, his strong hands holding me around my stomach and pelvis. He slid his cock down my ass and in between my legs. I tilted my pelvis back for him to give him the ideal angle. I reached back with my left hand and took him in my hand. He let me guide him, slowly, straight into me. He pressed himself inside me as I let go of his cock and grabbed onto his ass with my same hand, my body twisting to have more of his skin against mine. He pulled back and thrust in again, his confidence growing, and his cock growing, if it was possible, even harder.

  His hands now both gripped me on the pelvis and he pulled me against him to dive as deeply into me as he could. I had to let go of him and put both hands on the couch to keep myself steady. I whipped my hair to the left and looked over my right shoulder at this immensely muscular young man driving his cock into me over and over again. He was like David. He was like Adonis. He was Apollo.

  I worked my pussy slightly up and down while he worked back and forth into me. Together, we created a new kind of friction, a new way for man and woman to shove themselves together that had never happened before. His thrusts grew faster and faster, and my breathing matched their speed. My heart was racing. Sweat dripped off of my nipples and splashed onto the couch as he craned over me, his enormous thighs pushing my legs further and further apart, his massive cock pounding into me, filling me to the brim. He moved faster and faster, and his fingers dug into my hips, holding me in place, ensuring that I would feel every inch of pleasure he was giving me.

  He moaned as I squealed, my breaths coming faster and faster, and with each one a mouse squeak growing in volume, heedless of who may hear. His right hand suddenly grabbed onto my shoulder while his left stayed on my hip. He pulled himself into me like a machine and I released an enormous scream of volcanic pleasure as I shook and came once, twice, and a third time, each one blending into the last creating an immeasurably long orgasm. As I crested at the absolute peak of my pleasure, he thrust hard and came into me, shooting his young, virile, fertile seed into me, filling me up with what I hoped would be the ingredients to make a child. He shook and came again, throbbing and dripping into me, holding himself against me to keep his semen inside, not wanting to waste a drop. His torso collapsed atop mine and we stayed like that, pressed against each other, spooning to such a degree that we’d become one person for a short time. His hands stayed wrapped around me, making me feel safe and secure. I breathed into the couch cushions and he breathed into my back.

  Finally, slowly and in unison, we stood. He slid out of me and I felt a tremor shake through me as he did. I turned and looked at him, this demigod of fertility. He stooped and kissed me one last time, holding my shaking and sweaty body against his. He pulled away slowly and carefully, smiled, and placed his hand over my womb. He nodded, gathered up his clothes, and walked up the stairs. I heard the shower turn on, and as I collected myself and got dressed, he came down the stairs, smiled at me once more, and went off to school.

  Chapter 6

  Robert had driven me to the hospital in an absolute fervor. He was the picture of the doting father-to-be. He made sure that he double checked everything – the bags, the supplies, the luggage – everything every day, so when the time came, we just picked up and went. I’d never seen him drive so carefully.

  I made sure he called Timothy on our way, using the Bluetooth in his car radio.

  “I’ll be on a plane tonight,” his son said from the other end of the radio.

  The labor was torturous. Even with the epidural it was almost unbearable. But Robert never left my side. He stood there and let me crush his hand and yell and scream. Nothing fazed him that day.

  Our daughter was born at 6 lbs., 5 oz. and 17” long on the nose. She was perfect. And the next morning, she met the whole family.

  Timothy had flown in on a red eye, heedless of the weather warnings and storms coming in.

  “It’ll be worth it,” he had said over the phone from the airport.

  When he arrived, he came straight to the room. The early morning sun was streaming in through the blinds, and his father was asleep in one of those horrible chairs right next to my bed.

  He crept in, trying not to wake his father, but Robert popped up anyway and marched proudly over to his son.

  “What do you think, huh?” Robert asked, extending his hand, which Timothy took and shook. “She’s perfect isn’t she?”

  “What’s her name,” Timothy asked.

  “Caroline,” I said.

  “Sweet Caroline,” Timothy said, still holding his father’s hand, but looking me in the eye. He smiled and said, “Yes. She’s perfect.”

  His Daughter's Cherry

  Chapter 1

  I sat spellbound in front of the computer’s ghostly haze; my light-green eyes transfixed by the tempting image of a beautiful young woman sprawled across her luxurious double-bed. I was completely naked in my black swivel-chair, my muscular body bathed in the monitor’s translucent blue light while my eyes darted over the stretches of tanned skin left exposed by the woman’s tiny cut-off jeans and pink tank-top. I was supposed to be working on a position paper for an upcoming seminar, but the cravings of the flesh are annoyingly persistent. Subsequently, my weekend research had become yet another extended session with my cunningly devised surveillance system, and the only head getting a workout was the tumescent, pink one at the end of my massive shaft.

  I spat into my hand and smeared it over my erection until it was drenched and glistening. My hard, huge cock throbbed between my fingertips as I gently squeezed and relaxed, the pressure from my warm hand generating a sweet, pulsing sensation in my groin. My shoulder-length brown hair rustled against my shoulders as my hand worked feverishly between my bare thighs, the wet, smacking sounds of my urgent masturbation disturbing the silence of my increasingly regular nighttime vigil. One day Jeanne is going to catch me, and no amount of marriage counseling will fix that car-wreck, I thought bitterly as I extended my free hand and stroked the outlines of Dawson�
��s sumptuous body on the screen. So distant, yet so achingly close…

  I was ensconced in the relative privacy of my study, and there was nobody around to watch me as I trailed the cursor across the radiant blonde’s scantily-clad body. Degrees from my alma maters hung on the wall, their flowing black script praising my intellectual prowess in the field of social psychology. Framed certificates from the mayor’s office professed the fantastic work Dr. Evan Reed had done in the community, and the family photos draped in shadow seemed to underline the normal, well-adjusted man I was supposed to me. I was an attractive, well-built doctor with a beautiful, successful wife and a precocious young stepdaughter who had recently been accepted into an Ivy League university. How many more blessings could a person have, and why was a supremely fortunate individual like myself hunched over in the dark with a raging boner clasped in his spit-slickened hand? Well, as I know from my extensive research into the darker corners of human nature, there is no limit to the depths of depravity lurking beneath even the most tranquil of surfaces…

  I wonder what my respectable friends would think of me now, I wondered idly as I caressed my stiff dick and allowed myself to fall once more down the most forbidden wormholes of desire. I wonder if they would even recognize my face as my lips shudder and my eyes burn with a passion so fierce it threatens to consume the life I’ve worked so hard to build. I ignored the blurred reflection of my face while I leaned forward and pressed my lips against the blonde’s sun-kissed midriff. I imagined what that sweaty slice of flesh would taste like, how it would feel to dip my tongue into her navel and trace the contours of her ribs with its slippery tip. Fairly pedestrian desires perhaps, but the hot blonde lounging on the bed wasn’t just any random piece of ass. Dawson was my unbelievably sexy stepdaughter, and I was sneaking a wank while observing her with my artfully placed video-cameras!