Little Brats Jenna: Forbidden Taboo Erotica

by Selena Kitt

  Her wet sex throbbed imagining his words were meant for her. Oh God, that was so wrong, but when she closed her eyes, she could see it. She could see him doing it to her, bending her over, fucking her, hard, stretching her, making her writhe. She was, technically, still a virgin at nineteen, but she’d played with toys enough to know she’d popped her cherry long ago.

  In fact, some of best masturbatory fantasies she’d ever concocted had been about her stepfather. She would never have admitted that to anyone, but it was true. The man was impossibly kind and beyond sexy. It had proven to be a dangerous combination when she’d taken up the sport of masturbation. And for a while, she’d done it almost constantly—in the shower, in bed, on the couch late at night watching soft porn on Cinemax, but so often, it had been Scott’s cock she was imagining buried inside of her.

  She imagined him now, as she closed her eyes and unzipped her jeans, sliding her hand under the elastic of her panties to finger herself, circling her clit with her thumb. It was his cock she pictured, plunging deep inside of her. She clutched the letter in her hand, reading his words over and over, pretending they were for her. All for her. He wanted to take her, fuck her, fill her.

  “Oh Daddy,” she whispered, eyes half closed as she rubbed herself toward climax. “Fill my pussy. Fill your baby girl’s pussy with all that hot cum. I want all of it, Daddy. Give it to me! Oh now! Give it to me, Daddy!”

  She shuddered all over as she came, her body bucking under the covers, hips thrusting as if he were inside her, filling her completely. Ohhh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She gasped, clutching his letter to her chest, a slow, steady ache beating with the rhythm of her heart.

  He was in jail, pining away for a woman who could care less. She’d stolen his money and tossed his letters, unopened, in the back of a drawer.

  I’m going to save him.

  The fantasy took shape in her mind, a small smile curling the corners of her lips.

  The letter had ended with him begging her mother for a conjugal visit. He said he’d been on his best behavior and had earned it. She imagined the thrill of going into a prison and being locked in a room with a criminal, having sex when she imagined any guard could walk in if they wanted to. I mean, she’d seen it happen on TV shows, so it wouldn’t be impossible.

  Jenna turned off her light, tucking the letters into her pillowcase, before drifting off to sleep.

  * * * *

  Waitressing took its toll on her, mentally and physically, but at least it helped pay her college tuition. Her father had stopped paying, and her mother said she didn’t have enough to make ends meet. Of course, Jenna knew now, that wasn’t exactly true. She came into the house, tossing her jacket onto a kitchen chair, her only thoughts focused on a hot shower and curling up with her stepfather’s letters.

  The rest of his letters were full of pleas, asking his wife to come see him, to bring Jenna. And then, there was the talk of sex. So much sex. The letters were sticky with her juices, she’d read them so much.

  Jenna opened the fridge, perusing the contents, but a sound made her freeze.

  She cocked her head, frowning. It can’t be. But it was. It was her father’s voice. Her biological father, Keith, hadn’t bothered to come around much since her parents divorced. Not that he was much of a dad before that either. Mostly, he yelled and berated Jenna’s mother, or talked about his get-rich-quick schemes. He was determined to strike it rich someday.

  The sound of his voice in her house made no sense, but nothing surprised her anymore. Her entire world seemed to be built on lies.

  She inched up the stairs, avoiding the creaky one, third from the top, creeping down the hall to the bathroom that adjoined her mother’s room. She was hoping it would be cracked enough that she could listen. It wasn’t, but she could hear them, her mother and father, their voices, not their words.

  Taking a deep breath, she slowly, carefully eased the bathroom door open and peered through the crack. She had to stifle a gasp, putting her hand over her mouth to prevent any sound from escaping.

  Her mother stood naked at the end of the bed, facing Jenna’s father, where he sat on the bed. Jenna couldn’t quite register what she was seeing.

  “On your knees.”

  Her mother sank down in front of him as the man unbuckled his jeans. Jenna had never seen her mother humbled this way. Jean MacKenzie was always in control, always in charge. She’d ordered Scott around like he was a child—or, at least, she tried to. He’d quickly tired of it, but that was just who she was. Jenna knew she would never change.

  So seeing her mother on her knees for her ex-husband was a shock.

  “Do you want that cock?” Jenna’s father pulled out his erection, shoving his jeans down just far enough to do so. “Tell me, whore.”

  “Yes,” Jeanie whispered, licking her lips. “Please. I want it.”

  “You’re going to get it.” He grinned, inching forward to touch the head to her lips. “I’m going to fuck your mouth until you choke.”

  Jeanie made a low, pained noise in her throat as she looked up at him.

  “Did it miss it, even when you were fucking that young stud?” Jenna’s father yanked his cock away from her when Jeanie leaned in to take it into her mouth. “You did, didn’t you? Did you think about me when you were fucking him?”

  “Yes,” she admitted with a vigorous nod. “I was only ever thinking of you.”

  “My God, you’ve gotten fat.” He sneered, slapping her cheek with his cock. “I told you, I’m not going to be as tolerant as the gullible fuck you married. I want my wife back, you hear me?”

  “I’m trying.” Jeanie whispered the words. “I swear, Keith, I’ll be beautiful again for you.”

  “He might not have cared if he was fucking a cow every night, but I sure as fuck do.” Jenna’s father grabbed his ex-wife by the hair and guided her mouth toward his engorged cock. She opened her mouth willingly enough, accepting his length. “You got your chubby little fingers on all that money and you blew up like a balloon.”

  Keith guided Jeanie’s head, forcing her mouth on him, his cock sinking in deep.

  “If I knew our plan to steal all that dumbfuck’s money was going to cost me your figure, I would’ve kept tighter reins on you.” He grunted as he reached the back of her throat. Jeanie gagged but he ignored the sounds, grinding his hips, eyes closing momentarily. He was clearing enjoying the sensation, maybe even the choking sounds coming from his ex-wife’s throat.

  Jenna stared, wide-eyed, aghast, not quite understanding his words, although they were beginning to sink in. Slowly. Like a dream.

  “No one knows you like I do.” Keith began to withdraw his cock, looking down at Jeanie with a half-smile on his face. “Do they, baby?”

  “Mmmppphh.” Jeanie’s eyes watered as she looked up at him, and there was such adoration in her eyes, Jenna was shocked by it.

  “Tell me.” He withdrew completely from her mouth, his cock wet and glistening with her saliva.

  “No one else,” Jeanie gasped, drool sliding down her chin. “No one knows me like you. No one.”

  “Damn right.” He grabbed his cock and smacked her with it again, first one cheek, then the other. “If you hadn’t gotten us caught, we’d have his whole company right now. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, wincing as he smacked her face again with his cock, his hand fisted hard in her hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “You almost fucked the whole thing up.” Smack. Smack. “And I’m going to continue to punish you for that.”

  “I deserve it.” Jeanie sniffed, her lower lip trembling. She had her hands behind her back, Jenna noticed, although her wrists weren’t bound. “I’m yours, Keith. Use me.”

  “I intend to.” He yanked her hair back and Jeanie yelped as her ex-husband leaned down to look directly into her eyes. “You are mine. You will always belong to me.”

  “Yes.” She nodded, although her movement was restricted by the grip he h
ad on her hair. “Always. Always.”

  “I’m not going to fuck you.” His eyes glittered as he spoke. “Not until you start looking more like a human being instead of a cow. Do you understand me?”

  Jeanie nodded again, but no words came out.

  “Until then, I’m only going to use your mouth.” He ran his thumb over her lips. “I won’t fuck that wet pussy you’ve got for me until I can see a gap between those fat thighs.”

  Jeanie whimpered, but again agreed with a slight nod.

  “You’re not to touch yourself. You’re not to make yourself come. You understand me?”

  Another half-nod. Jenna felt sick, watching this exchange. She couldn’t believe this man was her father. He’d always been an angry man, and she’d often wondered why her mother put up with his temper, but she was beginning to understand.

  “And if you don’t get your body back, Jeanie.” Keith snarled at her. “I’m going to take every bit of that cash—it’s all in my name, sweetheart—and I’ll leave you. Alone. You don’t want that, do you?”

  “Nooo.” Jenna’s mother howled. “I’ll be good. I promise. I’ll do everything you ask. I won’t mess up again.”

  “Good.” He gave a satisfied nod, moving both hands in her hair before shoving himself deep into her throat. Jenna winced at the motion, how rough he was, but Jeanie moaned, squirming on the floor in front of him, hands twisted behind her back.

  “I’m going to use that fucking mouth.” Keith thrust, shoving his cock deep into her throat, making Jeanie gag on his length. “Take it, you fat whore! Choke on my dick!”

  Jenna cringed, but Jeanie actually moaned as her ex-husband fucked her throat, so fast and hard Jenna wondered how the woman could possibly breathe. She knew she should go, but the sight of it fascinated and sickened her at the same time, her father fucking her mother’s mouth like that, her mother completely submissive, letting him use her.

  “Ahhhh yeah!” Keith cried out, shoving the woman’s head down to the base of his cock. “Take it! Swallow my fucking cum! Don’t you spit it out! Swallow it! Swallow it all!”

  Jeanie choked and gagged, but her throat worked as she swallowed her ex-husband’s load, tears streaming down her face. Jenna gagged herself, involuntarily, and covered her mouth to keep in the noise.

  While Keith withdrew, quickly zipping his pants and buckling his belt, Jeanie didn’t move. She stayed on her knees, her face wet with saliva and tears as she looked up at him.

  “My little cock whore.” He tilted her chin up, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

  With that, he was gone, out of the bedroom. Jenna waited to hear his footfalls on the stairs before creeping back to her own room. She sat on her bed, trying to make sense of everything she’d witnessed. The last shred of what she thought she knew about her mother and father had crumbled before her eyes.

  They planned it.

  It seemed impossible, but the proof had presented itself before her very own eyes. It hadn’t just been her mother stealing money from Jenna’s stepfather. This was something else altogether. Everything, from the beginning, had been a lie. Jeanie’s divorce from Keith, her subsequent quick marriage to Scott. This was nothing but another one of Jenna’s father’s get-rich-quick schemes.

  And it had worked.

  Well, almost.

  They were still planning on getting control of Scott’s company, when he got out of jail. How much longer would that be? Jenna wondered. How much time did she have?

  * * * *

  That night in her room, she took out the stationary she’d stopped to buy, and began to write a letter to her stepfather. She had only the vaguest idea of a plan, but the poor man needed something, someone. It was the least she could do. She started out writing as herself, telling him how much she missed him, wondering if she should tell him what she’d overheard. But what good would it do? She didn’t have any proof.

  She took out the first letter she’d read, the one that had turned her on so much she was forced to touch herself, reading his words over and over. Just looking at the paper made her wet now, Pavlovian. She’d climaxed so much to that letter, she was surprised the words hadn’t been worn away.

  Her mother had married him, but she didn’t love him. She’d never loved him, never wanted him.

  But Jenna did. She wanted him so much it was hard to breathe, hard to even admit.

  She tossed aside the letter she’d begun, grabbing a fresh sheet of paper, and wrote:

  Dear Scott,

  I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know I haven’t written, but I felt so awful, so guilty for what happened. I know what I did was wrong. Your self-sacrifice has made it even harder for me, knowing you’re in there, and I’m out here, while you did nothing wrong.

  Yes, I do miss you. I miss you so much it hurts. I’ve been so distraught, so afraid. I don’t know what to do with myself, without you. I know I’ve broken your heart and that breaks mine. I know there are no excuses for what I did. I can only say I’m sorry. That you have forgiven me, that you took the fall when I didn’t even ask it of you—I am so grateful.

  I know I don’t deserve a man like you.

  Love, Jeanie

  She couldn’t find anything else to say in this first letter, but the man deserved an apology, even if it was a fake one. Hell, in her mind, the man deserved a medal. She longed to tell him what she knew. What she really wanted was to tell him how she felt. But she knew he would never allow anything between them. He still believed Jeanie loved him, had loved him all along. He was pining for a woman who had tricked him into marriage so she could steal his money. It made Jenna sick.

  Those last words she’d written in the letter were true. Jenna’s mother didn’t deserve a man like Scott. Jeanie and Keith deserved each other.

  And Scott deserved so much more.

  She put the letter in an envelope, addressing it and peeling off a stamp to affix in the corner. Satisfied, she slipped it into her purse. She’d mail it on her way to class tomorrow.

  Jenna crawled into bed, sliding her hand into her pillowcase to find the letters. She flipped through, finding her favorite, that first letter, when her stepfather had written about his longing, his passion, his desire for his wife. She could almost imagine it was her he wanted. If he only knew…

  She skimmed the letter, his words swimming, imagining it was his fingers sliding under the elastic of her panties, circling her throbbing clit. He would touch her with such tenderness, take her with such rough passion. Not like that scene she’d watched play out between her parents. She shuddered when that image recurred, pushing it away.

  No, Scott would grab her, take her, but he wouldn’t humiliate or hurt her. She knew him, far better than he probably ever realized, when they were living under the same roof. She’d watched him come into the house all sweaty after work, stripping off his shirt on the way up the stairs to the shower, unaware anyone was watching. She had seen him stroking his cock on his bed while she hid in the adjoining bathroom. She had heard him cry out and shoot his cum so far it splashed the hard planes of his chest.

  She could picture it all, every movement, every grunt and growl. Her fingers slid into her wetness as she played this fantasy out in her head, knowing it would never come true, but enjoying it anyway. She longed for him, to feel his hands cupping her breasts, rubbing her between her legs, even teasing her ass, making her yelp and squirm. She wanted his mouth on hers, sucking her nipples, licking at her aching clit.

  And she wanted his cock. Oh, that beautiful cock. She’d wanted it a long time, but she’d been too afraid to think of it, too afraid to admit it. But she wanted him in her mouth. She wanted his cum burning her throat. She wanted him to drive into her, pounding her virgin pussy until she screamed and came all over his cock.

  “Oh Daddy, fuck me,” Jenna whispered, fingering herself, knowing it wasn’t nearly enough. He would stretch her much wider than this. He would fill her completely. “Fuck me hard! Pound your little girl’s pussy! Pump that cock in m
e! Do it, Daddy!”

  She licked her lips, head thrown back, her clit pulsing with pleasure. So close now. So very close.

  “I want you to come all over me,” she murmured, imagining him between her legs, jamming his cock so far into her, the way she did with the dildo hidden in her drawer, so hard it hurt. “Give me that cock, Daddy. Let me make you come.”

  It was that image that sent her over—Scott rearing back, yanking his cock out of her wet hole and presenting it, slick and hard, over her belly. Jenna grabbed and tugged it in her little hand, imagining that first explosion of cum burning across her belly as she began to climax. The contractions forced her pussy to snap closed around her plunging fingers and she cried out, imagining the second stream of his white, hot sticky cum shooting so far it made it to her open mouth, giving her a taste, before he showered her breasts with more of the stuff.

  “Oh God, oh, Daddy, oh yes, yes, yes.” She shivered, her muscles tight, but starting to relax, even as the tiny pulses of pleasure continued. “I want you. I love you. Please.”

  She turned her hot face to bury it in her pillow, thinking about the letter in her purse. Was she really going to do this?

  Her pussy spasmed again, as if giving her an answer.

  Yes, she was going to do this.

  And next time, it wouldn’t just be a letter of apology. Next time, she’d find the courage to write a sex-filled masterpiece.

  * * * *

  Her legs trembled and she was afraid she might actually collapse as the female guard searched her, the woman’s fingers patting down over her breasts and then hard between her thighs, before moving over her ass.

  Was she really doing this?

  She was. She was about to see him again. Except she wasn’t Jenna, she was Jeanie, at least according to the driver’s license she presented when she arrived.

  “You cut your hair.” The woman guard noted when she glanced at it.

  “Yes,” Jenna had agreed, hoping she wasn’t going to get busted.

  But it was all going as they’d planned. Without a hitch so far.

  She couldn’t have done it on her own. She had enlisted the help of a more deviant mind than hers, the man who cooked at the diner where she waitressed. She’d concocted a different story for him, of course, as to why she had to see her stepfather, posing as her mother. Something about righting a wrong—which wasn’t really that far off—and the man had agreed to help her.