21 Taboo Tales

by Robin Pressley

  Underneath his heavy, muscular body I feel so small and safe and protected. His masculine musk envelopes me, and I know that I’m his now.

  “You own me,” I whisper against his thick, bull neck, and he clutches me even tighter.

  I don’t know how long we lie like that together, just breathing and sweating and holding each other. It’s the most perfect moment, and I want it to last forever.

  But at last, he pulls himself off of me—and out of me.

  “Come on,” he says with a smile, offering his big rough hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up, little one.”

  He pulls me up and leads me to the showers in the back of the gym. The cool water is refreshing after our hot and sweaty workout. Jared soaps me up, his fingers cleansing and exploring every recess of my naked body. After, he lathers my hair with shampoo and massages my scalp with his strong fingers.

  “Mm, that feels good,” I sigh, leaning back into his hard muscles. “Jared, what if…”

  I let my words trail off.

  “Yes?” he asks.

  “What if you got me pregnant?” I ask him. “I’m not on the pill.”

  He spins me around to face him, and he locks me with his gaze.

  “And you’re not going to be on the pill,” he says, his voice insistent and commanding. “If I didn’t get you pregnant this time, it doesn’t matter, because I’m going to breed your sweet little pussy again and again until you’ve got my baby in your womb, understand?”

  I nod, grinning from ear to ear as the water splashes down on my naked body.

  “That will give me all the more reason to protect my little girl,” he says with a smile as he rinses my long hair. “As if I needed more of a reason. Okay, there you go, sweetie. All clean.”

  “Mm, just in time,” I giggle, running my fingers over his broad, wet chest. My hands look so tiny against his massive frame.

  “Just in time for what?”

  I slide my hands around and cup the hard muscles of his sexy butt, and his cock stiffens against my belly.

  “Round two,” I say. “And round three. And round forever.”

  Riding the Pole

  1. CHELSEA

  “Woo, go girl!” Lisa shouts, flinging dollar bills onto the stage. “Shake that booty!”

  I can’t help but giggle at her antics. Lisa is totally getting into this, and it’s no surprise, since coming out to the strip club was her idea in the first place. Now she’s going wild and making it rain like she’s in a hip-hop video or something.

  The woman shaking her booty on the stage in front of her is Candy. She’s not just any stripper. Actually, she’s our friend and our pole fitness instructor from our gym. Ever since Lisa found out that Candy was not only a pole fitness instructor, but an honest-to-goodness pole dancer at the local strip club, she’s been begging Candy to get us into the club so we could watch her perform.

  “Wow, that was awesome,” Lisa exclaims with a big grin as she slips a dollar into Candy’s garter. “That’s for you, coach.”

  Lisa takes out one more crisp bill and hands it to Candy.

  “And that is for Chelsea,” Lisa says, pointing at me and laughing. “I want you to really sex her up!”

  “You’ve got it, babe,” Candy says with a grin.

  “Ah, no!” I yelp, but I’m laughing as Candy steps down from the small stage, straddles my lap, and begins gyrating her hips. She sees that I’m blushing so she goes easy on me with the lap dance. She knows I’m not as wild and outgoing as Lisa. Still, it’s all in good fun.

  The strip club is located on the outskirts of town, and it’s called The Booby Trap. It’s twenty-one and up, but Lisa and I are both only nineteen. However, since we are friends with Candy, she was able to sweet talk the doorman into letting us in for the night.

  I have to admit, I’m glad we came. This is a lot of fun. Normally I’m pretty introverted and timid, so getting out for a wild girls’ night like this is a lot of fun.

  However, as Candy is playfully giving me a lapdance, I notice that some of the men in the joint are looking on with dirty, lustful expressions on their faces. At first, I think they are just looking at Candy since she is, you know, a topless stripper after all. But as I glance around nervously, I realize some of the guys are actually checking me out too, like I’ve become part of the show.

  My cheeks flush with heat and my ears burn with embarrassment. This is so not me—I mean, I’m like the total opposite of an exhibitionist. Not like Candy and Lisa.

  “Yeah, work it, ladies!” Lisa shouts, loving the attention that we are getting. She starts tossing dollar bills at both of us.

  My eyes dart around the room at the men watching us. They are wide-eyed with desire, licking their lips. It makes me very uncomfortable to be the center of attention like this, but at the same time, underneath my embarrassment, there is a tingle of desire.

  Then my gaze lights on a familiar face, and my heart stops cold.

  Oh shit, it’s Lance. My daddy’s best bud.

  He’s sitting close to the wall in the shadows, behind the other rows of leering men, which is why I didn’t notice him right away. The expression on his face is cold and stern, and the muscles in his jaw are working tightly.

  He does not look amused. Not one bit. I wonder how long he has been here.

  My daddy is super strict and protective of me as his little girl. But I think Lance might even be stricter and more protective. One thing is for sure, he’s definitely going to tell Daddy I was here, and then my goose will really be cooked. Daddy will probably ground me for the rest of the summer, and I won’t be able to have any fun until I go back to college in the fall.

  I rattle off the list of offenses in my mind: I’m at a strip club. I’m here illegally since I’m under twenty-one, even though I’m not drinking. And to top things off, I am getting a dirty lap dance while every guy in the place watches.

  Fuck, is Daddy ever gonna be pissed.

  But that’s not the worst of it. Knowing that Lance is watching me is getting me a little hot and bothered. My nipples are going stiff beneath my top, and worse still, a warm, wet feeling is pulsing between my thighs.

  Oh my gosh, what is wrong with me? Why am I such a little perv all of a sudden? This is Daddy’s best friend I’m talking about. I should not be feeling this way about him.

  “Candy, wait,” I say, putting my hands on her G-string clad hips to make her stop grinding me for a moment.

  “Is everything okay?” she asks. She was getting a little carried away and lost in the moment, and now she’s concerned for me.

  “N-no problem,” I stammer, hoping like hell she doesn’t notice my pebble-hard nips or the dampness between my legs. “I…I just need to go to the bathroom real quick!”

  I push Candy off me and hop up from my seat, rushing to the bathroom at the back of the bar.

  “Hey, where are you going?” Lisa shouts after me, “You’re not leaving, are you?”

  “I’ll be right back,” I promise.

  As I walk away, I sense the men’s eyes turning away from me and back toward Candy as she hops her topless self back onto the stage.

  Why did he have to be here? Why oh why did Lance have to be here?

  Once I’m in the bathroom, I duck into one of the stalls and pretend like I’m peeing. But really I’m just checking my panties and cleaning up the wet mess between my legs. Fortunately, it felt like more moisture than in really was, and it didn’t soak all the way through my shorts.

  As I’m cleaning myself up, all I can see in my mind’s eye are Lance’s piercing eyes glaring at me.

  The thing is, it’s not the first time I’ve felt that intense stare of his.

  You see, Lance lifts weights at the gym where we do our pole fitness classes. The dance studio where we practice is in a different room, but we always leave the door open so that it doesn’t get too hot in there. Well, the door is right next to the water fountain, and it always seems as though, whenever our pole fitness class star
ts, the men in the weight room coincidentally become very very thirsty.

  Like I said, I’m really not an exhibitionist, but Lisa talked me into doing pole fitness classes with her, and I fell in love with it instantly. It’s a great way to get toned and limber.

  But I do have to admit, there is something sexy about the way the men watch as we practice. The feeling of their eyes raking over my scantily clad body always gives me a little shiver of excitement.

  And I get the most excited when the man watching is Lance. Most of the other men try to be sneaky about it, pretending like they aren’t ogling us. But Lance doesn’t care. He’s totally brazen about it, sipping his water from his little paper cup as his cool, deep eyes watch us dance.

  I can’t be sure, but it seems like he mostly watches me.

  At first, I was nervous he would tell Daddy, who totally doesn’t know about my pole fitness classes, and probably wouldn’t be cool with it. But as far as I know, Lance has never tattled on me. Somehow, I doubt he’ll be so forgiving tonight.

  After I wash my hands and check myself in the mirror, I leave the bathroom and step back into the club. The speakers are pumping a remix of some cheesy classic rock tune, and the bass is thumping hard. I try to forget about everything that happened and just enjoy the rest of the evening. I’ll deal with the consequences tomorrow.

  But as I’m crossing the room to where Lisa is seated, I get a sudden surprise. A man’s hand roughly grabs my ass, giving it a hard squeeze and making me yelp.

  I whirl around with fury in my eyes.

  2. LANCE

  This kind of place isn’t really my scene, but the boys dragged me out here for Tony’s bachelor party.

  I mean, the place is called The Booby Trap for fuck’s sake. How cheesy is that?

  As far as I’m concerned, bachelor parties are fucking stupid. If you are ready to settle down with your life partner, then why the hell would you feel the need to go out for one last hurrah, flinging your hard-earned dollars at naked women?

  This will be Tony’s third marriage, and he’s not even forty yet. Kind of proves my point, I think. But I keep my mouth shut. My plan is to just grit my teeth and get through this.

  That plan goes out the fucking window as soon as I lay my eyes on her.

  Chelsea. Sweet young Chelsea.

  My first thought is to wonder what the hell an innocent girl like her is doing in a place like this full of drunk horny men leering at naked, gyrating women. I’m pretty sure this place is twenty-one and up, and Chelsea is only nineteen. I know that because she’s my best friend’s little girl, and her birthday was just a few weeks ago. I got her a card and some spending money to help her out when she goes back to college.

  And now here she is throwing that money away on strippers? I should be pissed.

  But my ability to be pissed at her is totally negated by my irresistible attraction to that beautiful, little body of hers. Fuck me, man. I’m in a damn strip club full of big-titted naked women, and the only girl I have eyes for is the one who’s totally off-limits. My best friend’s daughter.

  I’m not used to seeing her like this. Usually I see her around the neighborhood in a t-shirt and jeans. Don’t get me wrong, she always looks good like that, and despite her kind of tomboyish way of dressing, I’ve still noticed those delicious curves she’s been developing, believe you me.

  Normally I’m able to tamp down my desire for her. But tonight she’s dressed to the fucking nines, and she looks sexy as hell. She’s got on a tiny, glittery top that shows off her lovely tits, and a pair of shorts that make her butt cheeks play peek-a-boo when she walks.

  And the sexiest part of all, she’s wearing a pair of heels that make every sensuous curve from her calves up to her booty go bling.

  I hate to admit it, but right now my cock is as hard as Portland cement inside my jeans. I’ve got the hardest boner of my life, and it’s all because of my best buddy’s little girl.

  “Hey, Lance,” Tony calls to me over the annoyingly loud music. “You doing alright pal? You seem tense. You look like you need a lap dance, bro.”

  I shake my head and make a nix signal with my finger to my throat, but Tony ignores me. He’s had way too many shots already tonight, and he’s practically out of it. He’s going to be a fucking mess in the morning, that’s for sure.

  “Hey sweet cheeks,” he hollers to one of the strippers who is strutting by. “Here’s a twenty. Give Mr. Doom-and-Gloom over there a lap dance, and see if you can’t put a smile on his face for me.”

  Before I can get away, the stripper is all over me, grinding her bare buttcheeks against my lap.

  “Oh my!” she gasps, looking at me wide-eyed over her shoulder. “Well, aren’t we excited! Damn, you’re as hard as a rock down there baby.”

  She thinks I’m hard for her, but she’s wrong. There’s only one girl who can have that effect on my dick and she’s sitting right over…hey, wait a fucking minute. Where did she go?

  Chelsea isn’t in her seat anymore. In the few short moments while this stripper had me distracted, she must have gotten up and gone to another part of the club.

  Half-panicked, I scan the bar, trying to see where the hell my precious baby girl ran off to. I really don’t like not knowing where she is, especially with all of these drunk horny men around.

  Without Chelsea in my field of vision, my cock starts to soften, and the stripper on my lap goes into a panic of her own. She starts grinding on me extra hard, since apparently her sense of self-worth is based entirely on her ability to give her clients a woody.

  “Hey, whatsa-matter, mister?” she asks, as her assiduous grinding has zero effect on my cock.

  “It’s all right, sweetheart,” I say, gently pushing her off me. “That’s enough of that.”

  She shrugs and trots off to find a more enthusiastic patron, while I rise and wander through the bar, trying to find the girl that I really want.

  I tell myself it’s just me being protective. I only want to make sure that Chelsea is okay. But I know that’s only half the story. What I really want is her, naked and spread for me, so I can bathe my cock in the sweet nectar between her legs.

  Christ, I really am a sick pervert to be thinking about my buddy’s girl like this. I need to get my fucking head examined. But first I need to find Chelsea.

  And right on cue, I see her. She’s coming out of the restroom and heading over to where her friend is sitting. I duck into the shadows, not wanting her to see me. I don’t want her thinking I’m some kind of stalker.

  But what happens next has me seeing red.

  Some drunk creep who was eyeing her earlier sees his opportunity to pounce. He sneaks up behind her and claps his grimy hand on her butt, making her yelp with surprise. She whirls around to slap him, but he catches her wrist, and a look of fear washes over her face.

  Hot magma courses through my veins as I charge across the room, and every atom of my being is trembling with fury.

  Nobody, and I mean nobody, manhandles my little princess like that.

  3. CHELSEA

  “Hey, creep!” I shout, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  I can’t believe nobody is helping me out here. I mean, sure the music is so loud that it’s drowning out my angry shouts, but still—doesn’t anybody see the way this jerk is groping me?

  “I’m gettin’ me a piece of that sweet ass is what I’m doing,” he shouts back. “Don’t pretend like you don’t like it, you little whore. I can tell you’re just begging for this cock.”

  While he speaks, he reaches down with his free hand and grabs his own crotch for emphasis.

  I make a face like I’m going to barf, which doesn’t require much acting. I try to pull away, but this creepy guy keeps hanging onto my wrist.

  “I wouldn’t touch your tiny dick if you were the last creep left on earth,” I shriek, nearly boiling over with outrage.

  People around us are starting to take notice, but still nobody is doing anything. Seri
ously, what the fuck is wrong with people?

  “Oh yeah?” the guy growls in my face, his breath hot and stinky. “Maybe you’re a rug muncher, huh? I saw how much you were loving that little lap dance earlier. You just need a real man to fuck you straight, you dumb little cunt—”

  My vision is a bit blurry from the hot tears brimming in my eyes, so I don’t see clearly what happens next. Plus, it all goes so quick that it’s over in a split second. But before the creepy asshole can get another toxic syllable out of his ugly lips, a giant fist rocks his chin like a cannonball.

  Creepster’s head snaps to the side so hard that it nearly turns around backward. His grip on my wrist instantly slackens and his legs turn into wet noodles. Before his limp body can drop to the ground, another giant hand reaches out and grabs his collar, hefting him up so that only his toes are touching the floor.

  It takes me a moment to realize that the man holding him is Lance. In fact, he doesn’t even look like a man so much as a demon from hell. His face is red with fury and thick, throbbing veins are popping out all over his tense neck and temples.

  “Are you okay?” Lance asks me, squeezing the words out through his clenched teeth. “He didn’t hurt you, did he, princess?”

  The music has cut off and there’s a commotion as people come running to see the fight—if you can even call it a fight.

  I nod at Lance, too awestruck to even answer his question with words.

  Satisfied that I’m unharmed, he turns his attention back to my harasser. Lance is shaking him and shouting profanities and threats too obscene to even repeat. But creepy-man doesn’t hear a word of it. He’s out like a light, his head lolling limply as Lance shakes him.

  But Lance is in full-on bloodlust mode. I’ve never seen him this pissed. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone this pissed.

  “Lance,” I say, placing my hand on his shoulder, “It’s okay, Lance. He’s had enough”

  Lisa has come running over to make sure I’m okay, and Candy is right behind her, clopping along awkwardly in her extra-high clear heels. Lance’s buddies are also running over to back up their friend, although he really doesn’t need any help.