I wanted to plant my seed in her fertile depths. I wanted to put a baby inside her.
It took every last ounce of my strength as a man to resist those primal urges. It wasn’t right to think of her that way. Even seeing her spread-eagle and in the shuddering throes of an orgasm, it just wasn’t right.
I don’t remember if I said anything or not, but I turned away and slammed the door behind me.
Shit. My dick was so fucking hard it hurt. I had to do something about it, and fast. I tried the next door down the hall, and I finally found the bathroom I had been looking for in the first place. I had never jerked it so furiously before (although I have done so many times since). All I could see was that misty expression of lust I had seen her eyes. As I got closer to blowing my load, I held my fist still and tight and thrust into it, imagining I was thrusting into my sweet little Justine. I gritted my teeth, choking back the moans welling up in my throat, and then busted a nut so hard that I almost expected it to crack the tile wall.
After I cleaned up my mess and caught my breath, I took a few minutes to compose myself. I couldn’t believe what I had seen. The image of that girl, that beautiful perfect girl, squirming and spasming as she got herself off was burnt into my mind’s eye like an afterimage of the sun.
And who had she been thinking of while she was doing it? Probably some scrawny dope from her college. That idea made me angrier than hell, but I did my best to suppress the feeling.
One wrong door, one fleeting moment, and my whole world had been shattered. I knew I was obsessed. I tried to tell myself it would pass. But deep inside I knew.
I went back down to the pool, trying to play it cool. I sure as fuck wasn’t going to mention what happened. Only once did I allow myself to glance up at the house, at the window that must of been hers. I thought I saw the curtain move, but that was probably only my imagination. But just the very thought of her was already making me hard again. I jumped into the pool before any of the guys could notice my raging boner, and I had to soak for a good fifteen minutes before it finally cooled down.
In the following weeks, I couldn’t get Justine out of my mind. She haunted my heart and my loins. I would lie in bed until the early hours, replaying that scene of her over and over in my mind. But my replays were different from reality. In my fantasies, I gave into my desires. Devouring her. Lapping the sweet juices running between her legs. Running my hands over every inch of her naked flesh. Coating her insides with hot streams of cum. Claiming her body and marking her as my fucking territory. Mine and mine alone.
***
I honestly didn’t think I’d ever be looking between Justine’s legs again. Not in real life. And especially not in these circumstances.
We got a noise complaint tonight from one of the neighbors that some college kids were throwing a house party that was getting noisy and out of hand. I and a few other cops had come to break up the party. I had just stepped in the front door when I turned and saw Justine’s lower half disappearing out that window.
Seeing her flawless flesh again sends shivers racing through my body. All the desire I’ve been working so hard to contain is rushing back. But on top of that is my desire to protect her. To possess her. To have her all to myself.
Did anyone else get the same view I just got? I turn to my right and see some young punk in a tie-dyed shirt with a beard that looks like it’s made of armpit hair, and which probably took him a year to grow. I see that his eyes are wide and staring directly at the window that Justine slipped out of. He’s licking his lips. He saw her ass. Son of a motherfucking bitch.
I grab his shirt in my fist and yank him toward me.
“What the hell do you think you’re looking at?”
I’m trembling with fury and he’s trembling with fear. He can’t even get any words out, he’s just blubbering, on the verge of tears.
“Nick, chill man.” It’s Jenkins, another cop. “Chill, he’s just a kid. What the fuck man?”
I look up and catch my reflection in a mirror on the wall over the sofa. My face is purple with rage. Thick veins are bulging up my neck and across my temples. Fuck me, I’m out of control. All because this college punk was checking out Justine’s hot little ass. Who can blame him really. The kid has good taste. But that ass is not for public viewing. It’s mine and nobody else’s.
Fuck sharing. I’m going to stake my claim.
What the fuck am I thinking? I can’t do that. Not with Justine. Not with Bud’s daughter. It’s wrong. It’s so fucking wrong. And yet…
“Nick, put him down. He’s just a fucking kid.”
I snap out of it. Jenkins is right. This young college punk is practically a kid. But there are men around. Other cops. What happens when one of those men catches sight of my baby girl in her skimpy skirt. She’s outside and alone in the dark. I should be protecting her.
I drop the goofball kid and he collapses like pile of dirty laundry. Then I head outside to find Justine. I don’t know what I’m going to do when I find her. But I do know that I have to find her right fucking now.
3. JUSTINE
“Well, well, well. What have we here?”
I stumble out of the hedge, scooch my skirt back down to cover my panties, and raise one hand to shield my eyes from the painfully bright light that’s shining in my face.
“Trying to make a run for it were you?”
It’s a cop. His voice sounds young. He can’t be much older than me. But he’s keeping the light right in my eyes so I can't really get a good look at him.
“You shouldn't run from the police. You can get in a lot of trouble for that. A lot of trouble.”
He’s obviously enjoying lording his authority over me. Creep. He slowly runs the light down my body and bare legs. Is he seriously checking me out? What the actual fuck? He brings the light back into eyes again and steps closer.
“I might be willing to go easy on you,” he says in a low creepy voice. “I'd hate to see a pretty little thing like you get in trouble. But you have to make it worth my while.”
He reaches out and picks a twig out of my hair. I squint into the spotlight.
“Lenny,” a deep baritone voice booms from the darkness at the other side of the yard. “What's going on over here?”
The cop named Lenny swings the light to where the voice came from, and there’s Nick, his arms folded across his chest, muscles bulging. He looked pissed. Really pissed. The muscles in his jaw are working, like he’s really making an effort to restrain himself. I’m completely relieved to have Nick here now, even though I know I’ll probably get in a lot of trouble.
“Get that damn light out of my eyes,” Nick says to Lenny.
Lenny immediately does what Nick says and flicks the flashlight off.
“This chick was trying to make a run for it,” Lenny mutters, gesturing toward me with his thumb. He clearly understands that Nick is the alpha male here. He’s deferring to him. More than that. He’s afraid. Even in the dark and half blind from the flashlight glare, I can see the fear on his face. He knows that Nick could rip him limb from limb if he chose to.
But why is Nick so pissed? Is he really that protective of me? Just that thought hardens my nipples under my top.
My vision is still a bit sparkly as my eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness. I hear other voices in the distance. Some of the guys and girls are still running out of the house. Others that have been caught and are talking to the cops and making excuses. Nick unfolds his arms.
“It just so happens, Lenny, that I know this ‘chick.’ It just so happens that she's the police chief’s daughter.”
Lenny's eyes open wide. He starts apologizing but Nick cuts him off.
“Go see if you can make yourself useful somewhere else.”
Lenny nods and scampers away.
“You,” Nick says, pointing at me, “Come with me.”
I can tell he’s still pissed, but I’m not sure if he’s pissed at me. He’s so fucking intense.
I walk be
side him and we go around to the front of the house. There are a few other cops out there and some guys and girls who weren't successful at escaping.
Nick has his thumbs through his belt loops, and he’s walking with a large-and-in-charge swagger. He’s wearing a short sleeve uniform shirt that really shows off his buff, powerful arms. They’re covered in tattoos from his days in the army. The thick bulging muscles of his thighs and butt are straining against his tight blue pants. I can’t help fantasizing about sliding those pants off to taste the smooth, tight skin underneath.
Walking next to Nick, all my feelings for him come rushing back to me. The tummy butterflies, the pounding heart. There’s even a faint throbbing between my legs.
I remember how he saw me that day on my bed with my legs spread wide and my finger on my trigger. I should have been mortified, but the truth is I thought it was hot, and I still do.
I want to show him everything. I want him to watch me cum as I squirm on my bed. And I want so much more than that. I desperately want to wrap myself around him, clutch that perfect butt, and hold on for dear life as he pounds me over and over and over again. I want his cock, his naked cock, buried deep inside my pussy. Nothing between us. I want him to fuck a baby into me.
God, it’s so wrong though. I mean, he’s a grown man. He wouldn't feel that way about a girl like me, right?
“Justine,” he says, breaking the silence between us, “your father would be really disappointed with you.” He’s trying to make his voice cold and stern, but he can't hide the warmth underneath.
“Nick, you don't have to tell my parents about this, do you? Can't it just be, y’know, our little secret?”
He cocks one eyebrow. I wonder if he’s thinking about our other unspoken secret. He has kept that one. At least as far as I know. He must be remembering that day, because his eyes flicker down my body and back up again. He does it so quick I almost miss it. But my skin starts to tingle from his glance.
“I'm surprised your dad let you leave the house dressed that way.”
My cheeks flush. He gestures to my pierced belly button.
“And I doubt he even knows about that, does he?”
If Nick is trying to make me feel like a little girl, he’s doing a heck of a job. But you know what? I don't really mind—as long as I can be his little girl, at least for tonight.
“You don't like it?” I ask, looking up at him from under my lashes.
A cocky smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, but he doesn't say anything.
My phone buzzes in my handbag. It's a text from Stacey.
Babe, U OK? Where R U????
“Don’t go anywhere Justine,” Nick says, then turns away for a moment to say a few words to another cop. The party is pretty much broken up at this point and some of the cops are starting to pull away. I text Stacey back that I’m with “a friend.” Within like one nanosecond she texts me back a reply:
Hot guy?
She includes a stupid amount of fire emojis. I don't say yes. I just send her back a winky face. Almost impossibly quickly she comes back with about a dozen hearts and another message:
Luv it! Thats my girl! Tell me all about it later!!!!
Nick finishes talking to the other cops and saunters back over to me and says, “All right, Justine. Time to call it a night. Come on, I'll take you back home.”
He puts on his helmet, and I suddenly realize he’s talking about his police motorcycle. My lady-boner starts swelling as Nick straddles the bike and starts it up.
4. NICK
I can’t believe how hot Justine looks. As she walks toward me, her breasts jiggle under her top. The way she swings her hips should be a crime. Maybe it’s the way that tiny little skirt squeezes her, or maybe she’s doing it on purpose just for me. Either way, she’s driving me wild, and I have to struggle to hide it.
And then there’s another part of me that wants to make her cover up. I just feel so damned protective of her. The way that creep Lenny was drooling over her made me sick. When I saw that, my first impulse was to rip his fucking head right off. But I kept myself under control. I don’t want Justine to see my bad side.
And now the way she’s standing there looking at me with her hips cocked, all I can think about is how good it would feel to gather her up in my arms and kiss her tender mouth, to strip off her clothes and feel the shape of her warm naked body pressed to mine.
But I can’t. It just ain’t gonna happen. She’s off. fucking. limits.
I’m going to be a gentleman and give her a ride home, and that’s that. No funny business. No hanky-panky. Nothing. I’m just doing my job as a cop—to protect and serve.
Although my desire to protect her runs so deep it’s almost primal. And I want to serve her in ways I don’t even dare name.
But I’m just going to give her a ride home.
Like a gentleman.
Fuck.
“All right, Justine. Time to call it a night. Come on, I'll take you back home.”
She looks down at her feet, a funny smile playing across her glossy pink lips. She kicks a pebble on the sidewalk.
“Nick, I can't go back to my parents’ house tonight. I told them I was spending the night with my friend Stacey.”
“All right, look,” I say, “I'm willing to give you a pass. But just this once, OK? I'll give you a ride back to your friend's house.”
“Well,” she says, “the thing is…”
“Yes?”
“The thing is Stacey was with a boy, and I don't know where she is now. I think she's not at her house now, so…”
“So?”
She blurts it out, “Maybe I could stay at your house Nick!”
It’s a dangerous suggestion. My mind is telling me it’s totally wrong. But other parts of me—the parts that are lower down—are telling me it’s oh so right. Still, I have to resist.
“Justine, I don't know if that's such a good idea.”
“Just until the morning, Nick,” she pleads. “I promise promise promise I won't bother you or keep you up.”
She doesn't realize that her mere presence in my home would keep me wide awake all through the night.
But the pouty lilt in her voice is enough to crumble my already weakened defenses. I know that I shouldn’t, but I agree. I nod to the seat behind me and say, “All right, get on.” I try my best to keep my voice cool and emotionless, burying the intense feelings boiling inside me.
She does as I tell her, and climbs onto the bike behind me. Fuck, her skirt is totally too short to be riding a motorcycle. The soft smooth skin of her inner thighs presses against my hips. She wraps her arms around my midsection and holds on tight.
Why does this feel so right? I can’t figure it. On paper it’s all wrong, but the reality is just the opposite. My brain and my heart are arm wrestling right now, and I don’t know which one’s going to win. But I do know that my cock and balls are cheering for the heart. Fuck me, I’m in trouble.
I rev the motor and we rumble off into the waiting darkness. We follow the backroads, so we don't see any other cars. The houses and trees flow by in a shadowy blur.
5. JUSTINE
My arms are wrapped around his body, and I can feel his ripped abs through his shirt. I want so badly to run my fingers up and down them. I want to slip my fingers in between his shirt buttons and touch his skin.
I lay my head against his back. He is as hard as stone, like a concrete pillar. I breathe in deeply. Even with the cool wind of the road blowing over us I can still smell him. It’s a raw masculine smell, alive and dangerous. There is a part of me that doesn't want this ride to end. He’s so in control right now, and I feel so safe and comfortable holding onto him. I want to ride with him forever. I turn my head to rest my other cheek against his back for a while.
We hit a big empty straightaway and he feeds the throttle. The rumble of the engine vibrates the whole bike, and the vibrations come up through the leather cushion of the seat and hit me right between my legs. God it fe
els so good. I tilt my hips into the sensation.
My short skirt slides up my hips even farther, and all that’s between me and the thrumming leather of the seat is the thin lacy fabric of my underwear. The motorcycle is massaging me, and I start creaming so hard in my panties. I close my eyes and inhale Nick's scent again and let myself go.
I fantasize about him forcing me up against a wall to frisk me, my legs spread in a wide stance, my back arched for my man. I imagine him standing behind me with his hands on my hips. His hands that are so big and strong they could almost go all the way around my waist. I imagine the feel of his wooden nightstick, so hard and so smooth, gliding over my tight cleft.
Oh god, the bike is really vibrating now, and I have to clench my teeth to stifle the noises that are bubbling up inside me. NIck is making me come so hard and he doesn't even know it. There are tears in my eyes from the whipping wind and from my effort to restrain my screams of pleasure.
I need Nick inside me. I don't care. I have to have him tonight or I just know I’m going to die.
I let my hands drift down his trunk. My fingers have a life of their own. They wander down to the crease of his hips, to his crotch, to the tight bundle between his thick thighs. I knead it. I caress it. I feel Nick's whole body grow rigid.
As we cross an overpass, he whips the bike over to the narrow shoulder and stops the bike. There are no other vehicles around. He sets the kickstand, turns, and swings one leg over the bike so that he is sitting sideways. He wrenches off his helmet and it clatters to the ground. His eyes are full of fire.
“What the hell are you doing, Justine?” He rasps. It sounds like he wants to yell but the words are lodged in his throat.
“I want you Nick.” It’s a dumb thing to say. It doesn't even begin to encapsulate what I’m feeling right now. But it’s the best I can come up with, so I say it again.
“I want you.”
I touch him again between his legs and he is hard. Not just a little bit. He’s all-the-way hard. I can feel the perfect shape of his shaft through his pants. I can feel it pulsing.
21 Taboo Tales Page 2