21 Taboo Tales

by Robin Pressley

  You can’t imagine what it does to a man, having a luscious little college girl who isn’t his daughter prancing around the house in her revealing clothes. So far I’ve managed to keep my shit in check, but the fact of the matter is I’m totally obsessed with Megyn. She’s all I can think of as I lie alone in my bed at night, knowing she’s sleeping right down the hall from me.

  She curls up next to me on the couch, and I put my arm around her as she snuggles against my body.

  “Hey, what’s that?” I ask her, noticing a strange rubbery bracelet on her wrist.

  “Oh, this thing?” she says. “It’s a, um… it’s a Fitbit. You know for tracking your physical activity and whatnot. I’m just trying to be a little more…healthy!”

  “That doesn’t look like a Fitbit though,” I say, taking a closer look.

  “Oh yeah, it’s actually a generic brand. It’s cheaper, but it’s just as good.”

  There’s something in her voice that makes me think she’s not telling me the whole truth about the bracelet, but I don’t push it. I know when I was her age I didn’t want older adults prying into every detail of my life, and I certainly don’t want to do that with Megyn. I try my best to give her some space.

  The problem is that she doesn’t seem to want to give me any space. My heart rate is accelerating from the way her soft, ripe body is pressed into me. Her head is nestled against me, and I can smell the fruity, floral scent of her shampoo. Everything about her drives me wild and makes every muscle in my body tense with need.

  But it’s a need that she can’t relieve. She’s off-fucking-limits.

  I’ll have to deal with this by myself. Later, when I’m in the shower, I’ll take all of my frustration out on my hard, aching cock. I’ll pump my dick into my tight fist, imagining I’m pumping it into Megyn’s tight little pussy instead. And when I finally blow my load, I’ll be dreaming that I’m shooting it straight into her fertile little womb.

  But in reality, it will just wash down the shower drain. What a fucking waste, but that’s how it’s got to be.

  “Well, that’s great you’re making more healthy choices,” I tell her. “But just so you know, you look absolutely perfect the way you are, Megyn.”

  She blushes and smiles up at me. God, she’s dangerously cute.

  “Thanks, Evan.”

  She gives me a quick peck on the cheek. Her lips are so soft against my scruffy jaw. Then she hops up from the couch, grabs her bag off the floor, and heads upstairs.

  “But there’s always room for improvement, right?” she chirps as she goes.

  After she’s gone I just sit there in a daze. The only improvement I can think of for her body would be if she was carrying my baby in her belly.

  Inappropriate, Evan. Totally inappropriate.

  3. MEGYN

  It’s been nearly a week now since Luna gave us our Eroto-whatchamacallit bracelets. You know, the Clitbit. Almost one week, and I’ve still got nothing, despite practically rubbing my little love nub almost raw every night.

  I can’t show up to our get-together empty-handed. I’ve got to get at least one solid orgasm in before then.

  And so here I am, almost two in the morning, my legs spread wide while I diddle myself in the cold glow of my laptop screen.

  I’ve got about twenty freaking browser tabs open as I try to find some porno that will give me what I need to get myself off. First I tried some softcore stuff, but that didn’t do the trick. Then I dipped my toe into some gentler hardcore porn. I tried some “porn for women” and “porn for couples,” and I did like that better. It showed everything, but in a more sensual and aesthetic way. But when that didn’t get me there either, I went all in. Hardcore gangbangs, whips and leather BDSM stuff. Lesbians. Anal. I’ve tried just about everything except a National Geographic show of orangutans getting it on.

  I flop back onto my pillow, exhausted and sweaty, but unfulfilled. My poor little clit is sore from all this rubbing.

  What the fuck is wrong with me? I feel like I’m on the verge of tears here. I just know I’m gonna show up tomorrow and all the girls will be talking about the amazing orgasms they had. Why can’t I have that too? Just once. Just one little orgasm is all I’m asking.

  I go back to working my clit lightly. I’m not quite ready to give up for the night.

  Closing my laptop, I try instead to use my imagination. In the darkness of the room, I try to conjure up my imaginary lover between my legs. I pretend the swirling pad of my finger is the tip of his tongue as he flicks my tender clit. I imagine raking my fingernails through his thick hair as he eats me.

  My free hand slides under my shirt and squeezes my breast, rolling the taut nipple between the thumb and index finger. In my fantasy, it’s my imaginary lover’s hand touching me, squeezing me there.

  I can feel a little tension building up within my core. Something is definitely happening, but it’s not enough.

  My fingers go at it even harder, rubbing my clit intensely, trying to force an orgasm to happen.

  And then something crazy and totally unexpected happens. In my mind’s eye, my dream lover raises his face from my needy apex where he’s been feasting. Even though it’s my fantasy, it’s totally out of control now. My subconscious has taken over. The face that I see smiling up at me from between my thighs makes my heart skip a beat.

  It’s Evan. I’m imagining Evan is eating out my virgin pussy. The man of the house. The man who helped raise me.

  I don’t know where the fuck that came from, but the really crazy part is that the tingly, bubbly feeling inside me grows a little more. I’m not absolutely certain, but I think I see the little green light on the bracelet blink once.

  Oh fuck!

  I immediately stop what I’m doing. This is totally inappropriate. Evan is completely off-limits and I shouldn’t even be thinking about him like that. Oh god, what in the world is wrong with me? Not only am I a freak because I can’t cum, but now I’m also a total perv too.

  I lie still on the bed, afraid to continue. It’s just so wrong. So deliciously wrong…

  Stop it, I tell myself. You are not going to get off thinking about Evan, and that is that.

  Although, if I’m going to be honest, it’s not a complete surprise. I’ve always had an enormous crush on Evan. When I was a little girl, it was just one of those cutesy things. Like, for example, I would ask him to marry me because I was too young to understand how these things work.

  I mean, technically he could marry me. We’re not even related. But it just feels so, I don’t know…taboo.

  As I’ve gotten older and my body has started filling out, I’ve definitely caught Evan checking me out. And if I’m going to be completely truthful, I’ve done more than a little bit to encourage that attention.

  Whenever I’m hanging around the house, I love to wear my skimpiest little shorts and tops, and I get a little thrill from parading my scantily clad body in front of him. I can feel his eyes raking my exposed skin, and it feels so fucking good. I want to show him more. I want to show him everything.

  I get a lot of attention from guys at college too, but for some reason, Evan’s manly attention is all I care about.

  The other day when we were on the couch together, he told me I look perfect. God that made me cream so hard in my panties. In that moment I wanted him to touch me so bad. I wanted him to just rip my clothes off like the fucking savage I know he can be. I wanted him to claim me right there on the couch. I wanted him to spear me with his throbbing hard cock. I wanted him to cum inside me and make me pregnant.

  So wrong, Megyn. So freaking wrong.

  I roll over and pull my comforter around me with a sigh. This isn’t going to happen tonight. Who am I kidding? It’s not going to happen ever. I’ll just have to face the girls tomorrow, and hopefully they won’t make too much fun of me.

  4. MEGYN

  “Finally,” Luna says as I come trudging up to the table and take a seat. “What took you so long, Megyn.”

>   They got the same booth at the coffee shop as last time. But this time I’m the last to arrive. The other girls, Luna, Celia, and Brit are all there already. They’ve been waiting impatiently for me to finally show up

  “I know why she’s late,” Brit says with a grin and kicks me playfully under the table. “She was trying to get one more diddle in before you read the results.”

  I blush a little, not so much because of Brit’s joke, but because I’m so nervous and embarrassed about what the results are going to reveal.

  A kind of cute guy that works at the coffee shop swings by the table and asks me if I want something to drink. I notice that the other girls already have their coffee drinks. Before I can answer the waiter, Brit butts in.

  “She’ll have an extra large Fap-pucino.”

  “A frappucino?” the guy says, pretending like he missed Brit’s the joke.

  “Just a small iced coffee please,” I tell him.

  He nods and wanders off to get my order.

  “Oh come on, that’s pretty funny, right? Fap-pucino.”

  “I guess,” Celia says, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, Luna, everybody is here now, so you can show us the results. I mean, we all know Brit’s gonna be the big winner, but I still wanna see how I did.”

  “Right,” Luna says, taking an iPad out of her bag. “Actually, Brit and I were both pretty close—Neck and neck.”

  “Oh come on!” Brit teases. “You probably doctored your own numbers, you cheater.”

  “Remember,” Luna says, “We’re not tracking sex here, we’re tracking orgasms. And as you well know, I’ve got an extensive arsenal of robo-dicks.”

  Luna isn’t lying. She showed us her collection of vibrators one time, and it’s pretty insane. She is so skilled with technology that she even built some of them herself. She always says that she prefers her robo-dicks to the real thing because they don’t come with any emotional baggage. That’s Luna for you.

  “Well, let’s have a look!” Brit exclaims, grabbing for the tablet.

  “Okay, okay. Chill.” Luna says. She holds the tablet where we can all see it. “Right, so you can see that—as expected—Brit is in the lead with over five thousand G-units this week.”

  “Wait, what the fuck are G-units?” Brit asks.

  “Yeah,” I chime in. “Like, the hip-hop group?”

  “No, no, no,” Luna sighs, obviously irritated by our ignorance. “They are Gräfenberg units. Look, have you ever heard of the G-spot?”

  We all nod.

  “It’s named after Dr. Gräfenberg, the scientist and gynecologist who discovered it.”

  “God bless Dr. Gräfenberg,” Brit giggles.

  “Anyway,” Luna continues, “His lesser-known contribution to sexual science is the Gräfenberg unit, otherwise known as the G-unit. It’s a measurement for quantifying orgasmic energy.”

  “Okay…” Celia says.

  Luna goes on with her explanation. “So, Brit had the most, with over five-thousand G-units worth of orgasms this week. But I was right on her tail with approximately forty-five hundred.”

  “How did I do?” Celia asks, leaning in to get a closer look.

  “About fifteen hundred,” Luna says, pointing to the chart. “That’s still pretty respectable, honestly.”

  “Yeah,” Celia sighs, sounding a bit disappointed. “It was a busy week for me. Well, how about Megyn? How did she do?”

  My heart sinks into my stomach. I try to magically will myself to disappear, but it doesn’t work.

  “Yeah, about that…” Luna says.

  Shit. I can feel my skin crawling. I can’t believe I let them talk me into this.

  “I don’t even see her on the chart,” Brit says.

  “You know,” Luna says, “I think there may have been a little glitch. Maybe Megyn’s data didn’t get recorded. I mean, you did have some O’s this week, right?”

  “Well, not really, I wasn’t feeling so great. Actually, I’ve been on my period,” I lie.

  “Really?” Brit asks, “Whenever I’m on my period, I can’t get enough. There’s no better cure for the cramps than a nice big orgasm.”

  “I mean, there is a little bit of data there for Megyn, right?” Celia says, pointing at a barely visible dot on my chart.”

  “Maybe,” Luna says. “That’s tiny though. Barely a blip. Megyn, did you get some action last night?”

  I shake my head, unwilling to admit, even to myself, my naughty, dirty thoughts about Evan.

  “Oh well, probably just a glitch. Anyway, better luck next week, Megyn.”

  The other girls don’t say anything else about it. I can tell they’re just being nice. But I know that they must be wondering why the hell I didn’t have a single orgasm all week. God. This is the most embarrassing day of my life.

  And I get to look forward to more of the same next week.

  Great. Just great.

  5. EVAN

  I wake up in a cold sweat. It’s the middle of the night. When I finally get my bleary eyes to focus, I see that the digital clock on the nightstand reads 3:01. Shit, it's always a bitch getting back to sleep, and I've got work in the morning.

  I was dreaming about Megyn again. Christ this is getting out of control. Not only does she invade my thoughts all day long, but now I can’t even get her out of my head when I’m sleeping.

  This dream was a real doozy too. The things we were doing together were beyond dirty. And I was calling her name as we did it.

  Fuck, I hope that I wasn’t actually calling her name in my sleep too. Jess’s room is at the far end of the hall, so she wouldn’t have heard me. But Megyn’s room is right next to mine. If I called her name loud enough in my sleep, she might hear it. That would be…awkward to say the least.

  I try to relax. It’s after three in the morning. Jess and Megyn are both asleep. Nobody heard me. It’s all good. I just need to get up, take a piss and go back to sleep.

  There’s an en suite bathroom attached to my master bedroom, but the toilet was on the fritz yesterday, and I didn’t have a chance to fix it yet. I’m going to fix it today, but just for tonight, I have to share the other bathroom down the hall with Megyn.

  I roll out of bed wearing just my boxers, and I trudge sleepily out into the hall. The lights are off, so I have to go slowly feeling my way along the wall. At last, I reach the bathroom. I step inside, shut the door, and flick on the lights.

  Oh shit. When I look in the mirror, I realize I’ve got a raging hard-on, probably from that dream I just had about Megyn. And since I’m only wearing boxers, it’s poking all the way out through the open fly. Good thing nobody else was out there in the hall—that could have been seriously embarrassing.

  I shuffle over to the toilet, and I have to wait for a good minute before my boner goes away so I can piss. Finally, I’m able to do my business, and afterward I go over to the sink to wash my hands.

  Scattered all over the bathroom counter are Megyn’s girl things—hairbrushes, makeup, perfume. I know there are tampons in the cabinet too. No pills though. As far as I know, she’s not on birth control.

  I wonder if she’s had sex with anybody? A gorgeous girl like her surely gets a shitload of attention from the guys at her college. Just thinking about that—thinking about some young punk looking at her that way—fuck, it just makes my blood start to boil.

  Her body isn’t for anybody else. It’s only for me. For me alone to look at. For me alone to touch. For me alone to fuck and impregnate.

  What the fuck am I thinking? I shake my head, trying to rattle the crazy thoughts out of my brain. I chalk it up to my half-asleep state. The more civilized parts of my mind are still slumbering. Right now only the most basic caveman parts of my brain are still functional.

  Like for example, all this thinking about Megyn has got my stupid cock rock hard again and poking out of the front of my boxers.

  Fine. I’ll take care of that when I get back to my room.

  Before I step back into the hall, I scope
things out to make sure nobody else is out there. It seems like the coast is clear, so I step out into the dark hall and wander back to my room.

  When I get there, I swing the door open and step inside.

  But it’s not my room. It takes my mind a second to realize what I’m looking at, but once I do, I know I’ve done fucked up big time.

  It’s Megyn’s room, not mine, and she’s sprawled out on her bed with her computer beside her. She is wearing a shirt but her lower body is completely naked and spread wide, her raw wet pussy on full display in the dim light of her laptop screen. Her fingers are working furiously at her clit, practically abusing it.

  And there are tears in her eyes. She’s crying. She lets out a gasp when she sees me standing in the doorway.

  I feel such a weird mixture of emotions in this moment. Part of me wants to just take her in my arms and tell her that everything is going to be all right. But under the present circumstances, I can’t do that of course.

  Half-panicked, I don’t even try to say I’m sorry. I just turn around to leave as quick as I can. The problem is that my cock is still rock hard, so as I spin around, the head of it smacks the door frame like a hammer.

  “Fuck.” I inhale through my gritted teeth.

  I pull the door shut behind me and find my way to the right door—my door. All the while I’m cupping the aching head of my cock with my palm. Jesus that hurts like a motherfucker. I sit down on the bed and try to process what the fuck just happened.

  I guess because I’m not used to going down that hallway at night, I misjudged and went to the wrong door. Being half awake didn’t help any.

  But I also wonder if it wasn’t some kind of deep-seated subconscious desire that led me to her door.

  Well, no point in getting all Freudian about it.

  I flop back onto my bed with a groan. I’m double fucked. After seeing Megyn’s lovely little pussy spread wide open like that, there’s no way I can just go back to sleep without some kind of release. But my cockhead is still sore from smacking it against the door frame.