James pushed two fingers deep inside me and curled them, stroking the walls of my pussy, and I exploded in orgasm. My body quivered as I moaned with pleasure.
“Get up!” James suddenly shouted. He pulled me onto my feet. “Go to the bedroom. March!”
I turned toward the room and he smacked my ass, hard. It surprised me so much I jumped in the air. I scurried down the hallway, eager to obey, as James followed step by step with that slow, confident swagger of his. I was sitting on the edge of the bed when he entered the room and dropped his shorts.
“Oh my god,” I gasped.
His cock was long and meaty, growing before my eyes. I was salivating, I wanted it so badly. I fell to my knees, submitting to James, taking his rigid shaft in my hands as I guided the swollen tip between my lips. James’ cock was so thick it completely filled my mouth, and I was afraid I might choke on it. I took as much of him as I could inside my mouth, running my lips up and down his length, letting him dominate my mouth.
“God damn, that feels good,” James groaned. “Oh, shit, Ellie. Oh, my fucking god, this is amazing.”
I felt his ass clench, and I opened wide as James thrust himself down my throat, erupting with hot, delicious cum. He thrust and shot a second load that sprayed even deeper. I greedily swallowed all of it down.
“Shit, Ellie,” James sighed. “You really are all grown up, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“And you know how to follow orders.”
“Yes, sir. I do.”
“Then lay your ass down on the bed.”
James guided my body down. I was lying on my back. He took my ankles in his hands and jerked my body toward him, until I was perched on the edge of the bed, and he peeled off my drenched-wet panties and spread my legs wide.
“That’s a pretty little cunt you have,” he grinned.
He kissed my pussy, his tongue spreading me open as his fingers probed inside as a series of orgasms ricocheted through every ounce of my being.
James grabbed my ankles again and spread me apart so wide I thought I might break. He pinned me to the bed with all his weight, his naked body pressing down hard on top of mine. My body was aching to be impaled by his cock.
“Fuck me, Daddy!” I begged.
“You’re a bad girl,” he sneered. “It’s time for Daddy to punish you.”
“Yes, Daddy! Please, give me my punishment.”
James pushed his hard, stiff cock against my cunt, attacking my pussy.
“Get the fuck in there,” he growled at his own cock. “Damn, Ellie, you’re too fucking tight.”
“This is my first time,” I admitted. “Please be gentle with me.”
“You picked the wrong man if you wanted it gentle.”
James forced himself savagely into my cunt, stretching me beyond all possibility. I screamed as he drove deeper inside, filling me with his thickness. My pussy had never felt anything like this. The fullness was incredible. He thrust himself in and out, in and out, as I moaned and wailed. It felt so good I couldn’t stand it. I orgasmed again, the walls of my cunt pulsating against James’ cock as he rammed into me.
A ragged moan escaped James’ lips when he exploded inside me. I felt his seed drizzling the walls of my pussy as a feeling of unbelievable satisfaction washed over my tired and spent body. James let his cock linger inside of me a moment longer, then withdrew, his cum running from my pussy and down my thigh.
“I never knew it could be so good,” I murmured contentedly.
James wrapped his arms around mine, our naked bodies entwined and our hearts beating in unison, as we drifted off to sleep in the master bedroom of the family cabin.
VII.
Three months later, James and I were married. Six months after that, I gave him the son he always wanted. We named our beautiful little boy William, after my Paw Paw.
Our marital bliss was put on hold when the United States Army called James back up for active duty. He re-deployed to the Middle East and was gone for an entire year this time. He was serving overseas when our second child, a little girl, was born.
I will never forget the look on James’ face when he saw her for the first time. The airport was bustling, with harried passengers rushing to and from their flights. Paw Paw, Grandma and Izzie were each holding edges of the WELCOME HOME banner I had painted for James’ arrival.
“Here he comes!” Grandma exclaimed.
Tears of joy streamed down my face. I threw one arm around James’ neck as he twirled me in circles, just as he had following his first return from Iraq. But this time I was being careful not to jostle the precious little bundle held against my breast.
“Meet Olivia,” I said, pulling back the blanket to reveal her smiling face.
James choked back a sob.
“She has your eyes,” he said.
He took Olivia in his hands and gently bounced her, as she erupted in riotous giggles. Little William was trying to crawl up the tree trunks of his daddy’s legs. James rubbed his knuckles against his son’s head, the way he used to tease me when I was little. Handing Olivia back to me, he scooped up his son, beaming with pride.
“Come on,” he said, taking my hand in his. “Let’s go home.”
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The Fireman’s Hot Little Brat
He bent me over his knee. “I’ll teach you to run away from home.”
Mason is a sexy firefighter with blue eyes and broad shoulders. When he’s not saving lives, he keeps a watchful eye over Chloe, his naive and fertile college girl.
For months, little Chloe has been nursing a major crush on the man who raised her. When Mason comes home burned and bruised after a long shift battling fires, Chloe succumbs to her forbidden desire, and she kisses Mason when he least expects it.
Chloe’s kiss threatens to tear them apart ... until fate thrusts them back together. Overcome by passion, Mason gives every inch of himself to his little princess. Chloe’s first time is unbearably hard and deliciously deep, because Mason will stop at nothing to give her the baby she craves.
I.
Oh my god, I can’t believe I kissed my stepfather. I should have known it would be a terrible mistake.
I’m not talking about some innocent, little peck on the cheek, either. I planted my lips right on his mouth, giving in to my forbidden desire—something I swore I’d never do.
What a dumb idea.
I don’t even know why I thought a man like Mason, my stepdad, would be interested in someone like me. Someone a little too curvy. Someone a little too—oh, I don’t know—related by marriage.
Of course, the whole thing started innocently enough. I had good intentions. Mason is a firefighter, and this morning he came dragging through the front door, completely exhausted from a twenty-four-hour shift.
I was watching TV when I heard the door open.
I looked up and my heart nearly broke when I saw him. He was limping sl
ightly, the hard-cut muscles of his chest filling his white T-shirt, swelling heavily with every weary breath. Soot smudged one of his cheekbones, and I saw nothing but sadness in his clear blue eyes.
“We lost today,” he mumbled.
“We Lost” was Mason’s way of saying that a fire victim had died on his watch. Mason thought he should be able to save everyone. He demanded that of himself—perfection. But in his line of work, it was impossible to always be the first to arrive on the scene. Sometimes a home, or a family, was beyond saving. The best that could be done was getting the fire under control and preventing it from spreading to other homes in a neighborhood, averting an even bigger catastrophe.
But you didn’t tell Mason that, at least not when he was grieving.
I got up from the couch and met him by the front door, wrapping my arms around his narrow waist, burying my face in the firm contours of his chest, my perky breasts pushing into his hard abs. I breathed in his familiar scent, like aftershave and sandalwood, and noted the additional scent of soot that had permeated his skin. Despite taking a shower before coming home, he had been unable to scrub off the unmistakable odor of the home that had burned to the ground.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.
“No, Chloe. Not really,” he said, his rough hands against the small of my back. “I’ll be okay. I just need a minute to unwind.”
Mason gave my waist a gentle squeeze. When I returned the hug, the curve of my hip pressed against his outer thigh, and he grimaced. With his teeth clenched he inhaled suddenly as he broke our embrace.
“You’re hurt,” I said.
“It’s nothing,” he replied. “Just a little burn. Occupational hazard, you know?”
Although Mason was joking about it, I could tell he was really in a lot of pain. When I was a little girl, I remember my mom doctoring Mason after he came home with various scrapes, bruises and burns. She would lovingly daub ointment, wrap bandages and do whatever else was required to nurse him back to health. Ever since Mom died, it was just me and Mason on our own.
“Let me see it,” I said.
“That’s not …”
“Mason,” I said, flashing him a stern look. “Let me see it.”
At first he looked like he wasn’t going to follow my instructions. But then he grimaced again. I had to help him, even if he wasn’t willing to help himself. When I grabbed his belt buckle he took over, unfastening the belt and unzipping his tight blue jeans. He gingerly slid the jeans down, revealing a pair of tight, black boxer briefs. I tried not to look at the bulge in the front of his shorts, but that was impossible. His package was huge. I couldn’t believe my eyes, and I suddenly realized my mouth was watering as I felt that familiar heat tingling between my legs.
When Mason groaned it snapped me back to reality. His jeans had been stuck to the burn, and when he pulled down the denim the movement had reopened the sticky wound.
“Damn it,” he grumbled.
“Sit down right there on the couch,” I said, and “I’ll get the first-aid kit.”
II.
Moments later I was kneeling beside Mason, using the tip of my finger to delicately brush the medication on his thigh. The burn was not one of his most severe injuries, but it would probably leave a scar.
I unpeeled an oversized Band-Aid from its wrapping and used both my hands to flatten it on Mason’s thigh, covering the burn so it could begin to heal.
My fingers traced around the burn, the touch of his skin on my fingertips jolting me like electricity surging through me. Being so close to Mason, him wearing nothing but that tight tee and his even tighter underwear, was really turning me on. I felt the arousal stirring inside me, the dewy wetness gathering between my legs. Maybe it was my imagination, but the bulge in Mason’s shorts seemed to be swelling, too, pressing insistently against his form-fitting shorts.
“Where else are you hurt?” I asked.
Mason grinned. “You’re not gonna like this one, little girl,” he said.
“Try me,” I replied.
He lifted up his T-shirt, revealing a thin but deep laceration across his delicious washboard abs.
“Told you,” he smirked.
I would show Mason who’s boss. I guided his shirt upward, and he pulled it over his head and tossed it aside. Now he was sitting there in nothing but his shorts, his big, hard body exposed to my hungry eyes.
Now to bring the pain. I drizzled rubbing alcohol on a wash rag and mopped it across the wound. Just as I suspected, he scowled as the alcohol seared the wound, reducing the chances of infection. Satisfied that he had suffered enough, I daubed the cooling ointment on my fingers and massaged it into the cut, my hands running across the ridges of his hard stomach.
Mason took care of his body, that was for sure. Some of the other firefighters had let themselves go, but Mason was a bit more determined to stay in shape, certain that his physical fitness would help keep him and others alive.
I had admired those abs for years. It was one of his nicest features, along with his cute little hard butt and his biceps, and his blue eyes, and … you get the picture. I developed a major crush for him when he and Mom got married, an attraction that only grew over the next several years.
Now I was eighteen and all grown up.
With my hands still resting on Mason’s abs, I looked upward, drinking in the up-close view of his bulging chest and those impossibly wide shoulders, before my eyes settled on his mouth. His lips were full and somewhat pouty, despite the trace of a cocky grin that had always driven me crazy.
I wanted to feel those lips against mine. I wanted to submit to his embrace, to be dominated by his tongue, and I had trouble thinking of anything else. The mound between my legs was beginning to feel extremely sensitive, practically begging to be filled.
Throwing all caution aside, I ran my fingers up Mason’s chest, then around his neck, and I pulled myself toward his mouth. My lips brushed against his. For a moment he did not return my kiss, but I continued, and his mouth parted slightly as he delicately nibbled my lips. His tongue parted my mouth and dipped into mine, caressing my tongue.
None of the boys at school had kissed like this. Mason knew what he was doing. I was incredibly turned on and getting wetter. I could tell he was becoming more aroused, too, his kisses more insistent, his mouth pressed hard against mine. Suddenly he pulled back and nibbled my neck, which felt so tingly and good my body shivered as I gasped out loud.
I ran my hand over his lap, and his crotch was rock-hard, his shorts tightened almost to the breaking point. I caressed the bulge, and to my surprise it continued to swell, becoming even more rigid.
Mason let out a ragged breath, enjoying the sensation of my fingers massaging his cock and balls. There was nothing I wanted more than to free that cock from those shorts and stuff all of him into my mouth, to suck him off and drink down his cum.
I reached for the waistband of Mason’s shorts to pull them down, and he grabbed me by the wrist, his fingers digging into my skin. Shocked by his violence, I tried to pull away, but he would not let go.
“We can’t do this,” he said. “You’re my daughter.”
“You mean stepdaughter,” I replied.
“No, Chloe,” he protested. “I promised your mother I would take care of you, to raise you. I can’t betray the vow I took.”
“You were a wonderful guardian. But now I’m a woman.”
I took his free hand and mashed it against my breasts. He took one of them in his enormous hands and squeezed so hard I thought I might cry out in pain. A devilish look crossed his face. I knew he wanted me, all of me. If only he would just take me, then and there, on our couch.
Instead he let go of me and stood up, putting distance between our lust for each other.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t.”
I burst into tears. What a fool I was to think I could seduce my own stepfather. I was so humiliated I never wanted to see him again.
“If you’re go
ing to treat me this way, then I’m leaving and never coming back,” I screamed.
Too Big Taboo Bundle: Naughty Brats, Forbidden First Time, Man of the House Page 3