21 Taboo Tales

by Robin Pressley

  “I’m not asking,” he growls. “You’d better clear that little schedule of yours. I could really use you tonight, Anniston.”

  His free hand comes up to cup my breast and he lightly pinches my stiffening nipple through my shirt.

  “Of course,” I breathe, as my finger traces the outline of his rock hard cock through his jeans. “I’ll be wide open tonight, Daddy. You can use me any way you want.”

  Caught in the Act

  1. JODELLE

  Despite his protests that he’s not sleepy at all, by the time we reach the top of the stairs, little Tristan is already snoring lightly on my shoulder. I carry him down the hall to his room, and gently lay him into his bed, careful not to jostle him awake. I can’t help smiling at how adorable he looks in his little Batman jammies.

  He mumbles lightly in his sleep as I pull the covers over him too tuck him in, still insisting that he’s not tired, even though he’s already off in dreamland.

  Before I leave him, I take a moment to watch him sleeping. He’s such a little angel, and all I can think is that I want one. I want a little baby of my own. I know I’m way too young to be thinking about that kind of thing. I’ve got college to finish, and then I need to find a career. Most of my girlfriends don’t plan on having kids until they’re almost thirty.

  Some of them don’t even want kids.

  Well, not me. I want a baby as soon as possible, especially a little sweet pea like Tristan.

  I give him a peck on his forehead and then tiptoe out of the room, pulling the door shut behind me. It will be a couple of hours before Tristan’s daddy will be home, so I head to the living room to kill the remaining time watching TV.

  As I step down the big curving staircase to the first floor, I can’t help but marvel, as I always do, at how amazing this house is. I mean, it’s practically a mansion, and it’s decorated in a modern style that is elegant but still very comfortable and homey.

  But I wouldn’t expect anything less from the home of a wealthy architect like Lance Erickson.

  Lance is a widower and a very eligible single daddy. Besides having a great career and being a perfect father, he is handsome as a mug and sexy as all get-out. If he ever decides to remarry, he’s going to make some lucky lady very happy. In fact, the reason he went out tonight was for a date.

  I chastise myself for the twinge of jealousy I feel about that.

  I can’t lie. I've had an enormous crush on Lance ever since I first started babysitting for him back when I was still in high school. But he would never be interested in a younger girl like me. Sure, I’m in college now and basically an adult, but I’m sure he still sees me as a silly little girl.

  Still, and girl can dream, right?

  Um, no. I’m being way too pervy thinking about things like that. Lance is completely off-limits. Not only is he like more than twice my age, but he’s also my daddy’s best friend. Even just entertaining such an idea for a moment seems totally taboo.

  I just need to relax and get my mind on a different topic.

  Lance always tells me to make myself and home. After Tristan is in bed, I can get anything I want from the fridge and watch whatever I want on TV. I plop down on the plush sofa and turn on the TV, as usual, but this time I get a big surprise.

  On the TV’s menu screen there is a channel I’ve never seen before.

  An adult channel.

  I know that I shouldn’t, but, well…I just can’t help myself. I mean, Tristan is sound asleep and Lance won’t be home for a few hours. There’s no harm in taking a little peek, right?

  I’ll admit, I’ve just gotta find out what turns Lance on.

  Making sure the audio is turned down nice and low, I play the last movie in Lance’s history. It starts about halfway through the video where Lance must have left off.

  What pops up on the screen certainly excites me. It’s a handsome older man’s face. He’s not nearly as hot as Lance, but he’s got a similar look—short dark hair streaked with sexy gray strands, and a nice layer of short salt-and-pepper scruff lining his jaw.

  But the guy in the movie is making an expression that I’ve never seen on Lance’s handsome face before.

  He’s wincing, almost as if he’s in pain, but the way that he’s grunting and groaning makes it pretty clear that it’s the exact opposite. The camera slowly pans down his body. For an older man, he’s got a nice, chiseled physique. I’ve never seen Lance shirtless before, but I know he loves to lift weights and he runs every morning, and I can just tell he’s hiding an amazing, hard bod under his dress shirts.

  I can’t help pretending that the man on the TV screen actually is Lance, and I fantasize about kissing my way down that rock hard abdomen, tasting the salt and tang of his hot flesh.

  Already, my body is starting to tingle with arousal. My nipples pebble beneath my top, and a warm slick feeling pulses between my thighs.

  Then, as the camera pans lower, I gasp.

  It’s not that I’m surprised to see a woman taking the man’s long, thick cock inside her mouth. I mean, I’ve seen a few dirty movies in my day. No, what surprises me is the way the woman looks.

  She looks a heck of a lot like me.

  Okay, she’s not a spitting image, but she has the same small frame and fair skin and the same long, wavy strawberry blond hair. If the man in the movie could be a stand-in for Lance, the younger girl who is eagerly bobbing on his cock could most certainly be a stand-in for me.

  But surely that is just a coincidence, right?

  Whatever. This movie totally fits my fantasy, and that’s all that matters right now. Almost without realizing it, I find that I’ve slipped my index finger between my lips and I’m sliding it in and out, sucking it lightly.

  On the screen, the girl gives the man’s head a nice wet lick. I mimic with my finger.

  The only problem is that my finger is so darn little. I need something with some girth. Something that can massage my throat and make my eyes water, running my mascara like the girl in the movie.

  I pause for a moment and look around.

  God, this is so fucking wrong. What on earth am I doing? When Lance told me that I could watch whatever I wanted on his TV, I don’t think this is what he had in mind.

  Then again, there’s nobody around to see me. Tristan is sleeping in his bed, and Lance still won’t be home for a long time. Even though I know it’s way too naughty, I just can’t help indulging my forbidden fantasy. I keep watching.

  Now the man shoves the girl roughly onto the bed. She’s naked and sprawled in front of him, begging for his cock. But he doesn’t give it to her right away. Instead, he teases her, rubbing his throbbing head up and down her slit and over her obviously aroused clit.

  Goodness, that’s so hot.

  Without even thinking, I have slouched low on the couch with my legs spread apart. My finger is on the button of my jeans, absent-mindedly circling it.

  I wouldn’t dare. Would I?

  Somehow my button comes unfastened. Did I do that? I swear it’s like my naughty little fingers are acting of the own accord. I slide my zipper down, just enough so that I can comfortably slide my hand down the front of pants and under my moist panties.

  Oh fuck.

  I didn’t realize just how sensitive my clit had become until I touch it. It’s absolutely aching with desire. Running my fingers through my slippery folds, I swipe my natural lubrication over my tingling nubbin and begin to work it. I’m rubbing myself to the same rhythm that not-Lance is rubbing his cock on not-me.

  Within seconds, my clit doubles in stiffness, until it’s like a hard little pearl in pants. Through some sympathetic connection, my nipples become more erect too. With my free hand, I squeeze my breast, pinching my tender, tingling peak through my shirt.

  “Please,” both the actress and I beg at the same time. “I need your hard cock inside me.”

  The man on the screen finally obliges her, positioning his blunt cockhead against her hungry opening. As he thrusts forwar
d, penetrating her to this hilt, she lets out a gasp and clasps the bedsheets in her fists.

  At the same moment, I slide my finger inside my pussy. It feels good, but it’s not enough. I need something to stretch me. And I need something longer too. My finger isn’t quite long enough to touch my special place inside.

  I swear, the next time I babysit for Lance, I’m going to have to bring one or two of my toys.

  What I really want is to have Lance here, pounding my tight little pussy with his hard cock. I wonder how big he is? He’s a tall, manly guy, so I bet it’s bigger than average a least.

  But I sigh as I realize I’m never going to find out.

  Even though Lance is obviously into younger women, as his choice in erotic movies reveals, he’s totally off-limits. I mean, for one thing, he’s my employer. But more importantly, he’s my daddy’s best friend for crying out loud. Even just thinking about getting it on with him is beyond taboo.

  Still, I need him here now.

  That’s when I get an idea that’s way, way too naughty. I seem to be getting a lot of those tonight.

  Pausing the movie, I hop up off the couch.

  2. LANCE

  Where the fuck is she going?

  I watch intently on my phone screen as Jodelle hops up off the couch and runs quiet as a cat out of the living room. Unfortunately, I only set up two hidden cameras—one is concealed in a stuffed animal in Tristan’s room. The other is hidden inside of a throw pillow on a chair in the living room. They both connect to an app that I can use to check in from my phone.

  Jodelle is my best bud’s daughter, so I have no doubt I can trust her. She babysat little Tristan many times while she was still in high school. But after she left for college, I had to get a new baby sitter, and I installed the hidden cameras just to make sure the new girl was taking good care of my boy

  Maybe I’m overprotective—I guess it comes from being a single dad

  Since Jodelle is back home for summer vacation, I hired her to babysit again tonight. Tristan really loves her. So much so, he even told me he wishes she could be his mommy. I know I can trust Jodelle, so why did I check the hidden camera app just now?

  I don’t know what I was expecting, but I certainly wasn’t expecting to get a show like what she’s putting on in my living room.

  I honestly don’t know what the fuck to think right now. On the one hand, I should be pissed that this girl is diddling herself on my couch. On the other hand, I’m ashamed to say that I was totally entranced. The way her beautiful lips parted as she fingered herself and squeezed her tit had my dick rock hard.

  In fact, I was so wrapped up in watching her, I damn near forgot that I’m sitting in the middle of a fucking restaurant.

  I glance around the luxurious, dimly lit restaurant. All around me, men and women are sitting around white-clothed tables, chatting and laughing breezily as they eat their meals. Meanwhile, I’m over here with a fucking hard-on, sweating bullets because I feel like a damn cradle-robber.

  But I didn’t ask for this shit. My blind date left to run to the little girl’s room, so I thought I would take the opportunity to check in and make sure everything was okay at the house. At least that’s what I tell myself.

  I certainly wasn’t expecting to see the babysitter with her legs spread and her and down her pants.

  Even less did I expect to have that image affect me the way that did. I’ve never been more turned on in all my life. My hard cock is pulsating with need, and beads of sweat are popping up all along my brow and neck.

  Fuck, this is so wrong. This girl is half my age. Shit, less than half.

  The thing is, as much as I feel like a pervert, it turns out this little babysitter has got me beat. Because now she’s scampering back into the living room, and she’s got something in her hand. It takes me a moment to register what it is.

  Then it hits me. She went into my closet and got one of my dress shirts. Not a clean one off the hanger, but a dirty one from the hamper. And now, as she settles back onto the couch, she’s pressing it to her face and inhaling with deep breaths, like she’s trying to get high off of it or something.

  And the damnedest part is that it seems to be working.

  She’s getting high on my scent.

  One hand is back down her jeans, and the motion of the fabric at her crotch makes it clear that she’s really going to town down there. Meanwhile, her other hand has the shirt held to her nose.

  This dirty little princess isn’t just rubbing one out. She’s fantasizing about doing it with me.

  “Fucking shit,” I breath through clenched teeth.

  “Everything all right, Lance?”

  I snap out of it and nearly knock over my full wineglass in the process. My date, Charlene, has come back from the restroom, and she’s settling back into her chair.

  “Uh, yeah,” I say, trying to think quick, which isn’t easy when I’ve got the afterimage of a squirming, masturbating angel burnt into my mind’s eye. “Just checking some stocks on my phone.”

  “Oh,” Charlene says, fiddling nervously with her wineglass. “Is one of your stocks doing poorly?”

  “Yeah,” I say, mopping my brow with my napkin. “This young company that I’ve invested in. It looked like a sweet deal, but it turns out she’s into some dirty business.”

  “She?”

  I swallow a big gulp of wine.

  “Sometimes I refer to stocks as ‘she.’ Kinda like how people do with boats, you know?”

  “Oh, I see,” Charlene says, trying her best to feign interest. “So what happened with that company, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “She…I mean they were withholding some important information from their investors. Now they are deep in the pink.”

  Charlene gives me a quizzical look.

  “I mean red,” I blurt. “They’re deep in the red. So fucking deep…”

  She knits her brow. Charlene is an attractive woman. Striking even. Honestly, she’s a real catch, especially for a guy my age. My partner at my architecture firm set us up on this date, which is the first I’ve been on in years. I was reluctant at first, but I figure I ought to get back into the game. If not for me, I do need to be thinking about having a female presence in the house for little Tristan.

  The thing is, there is a female presence in the house right now, and it’s driving me up the wall. My cock is so fucking hard just thinking about Jodelle that it feels like it’s in danger of breaking off.

  “Are you sure everything is okay?” Charlene asks. “You’re pouring sweat.”

  She’s right. It’s rolling down my forehead like I just ran a marathon.

  “Yeah, just a little hot in here is all.”

  “Really? I think it feels a little chilly.”

  I’m dying here. Dinner be damned. The most delicious morsel is at home right now fingering herself and getting off on the smell of my dirty laundry. I’ve gotta have another look at what she’s doing. But I can’t do it here at the table. Tucking my hard cock up behind my belt and waistband, I stand up.

  “Excuse me,” I grunt, as I lurch toward the back of the restaurant. “I gotta hit the head.”

  I know I’m being a bad date, but I just can’t help myself.

  Bursting into the bathroom, I rush back to an open stall and pull out my phone. What I see when I open the app nearly bowls me over on my ass.

  Not only is Jodelle still playing along with the dirty movie on TV. She’s really getting into character as well.

  In the porno scene that she’s watching, the guy has the girl bent over the side of the bed and he’s banging her hard from behind. Jodelle is playing along. She’s on the couch with her jeans and panties down around her ankles and her ass up in the air. Her hand is reaching back between her legs, and she’s got three fingers inside her sweet little pussy.

  Fuck me that tight little blossom of flesh looks just like heaven.

  She’s got her face buried in my crumpled shirt as she works herself over, sh
ivering and shuddering with ecstasy.

  Just out of curiosity, I pop my earbuds in as well. She’s moaning lightly and whispering something, but it’s quiet, and I can’t quite make it out.

  Someone knocks on the door of the bathroom stall.

  “Fuck off!” I snap viciously.

  “Sorry,” a voice stammers from the other side.

  This gorgeous girl is turning me into a complete psycho, and there’s not a thing I can do about it. Much more of this and I’m gonna be beating my chest and howling at the moon.

  On the TV, the actors change positions. The man lies down on his back, and the woman straddles him, riding him like a cowgirl.

  Jodelle, meanwhile, pops up and starts looking around the living room.

  What’s she’s looking for?

  My question is soon answered. Her half-naked body grows larger as she approaches the pillow that has the camera hidden inside of it.

  “Oh no,” I breathe. “Not the pillow.”

  The camera goes all crazy for a minute, and then it steadies again, giving a view of the ceiling. A moment later Jodelle straddles the pillow, but she doesn’t seem to see the tiny camera that is hidden inside.

  As she positions her hips over the pillow, her perfect, tight little cunt fills half of the frame. She starts riding and grinding herself onto the cushion as she looks down, staring right into the camera without even realizing it.

  Staring right into my soul.

  Now I can hear what she’s saying, and it takes my horniness to a whole new level that I didn’t even think was possible

  “Come inside me, Daddy,” she whines. “I want you to fuck a baby into me.”

  3. JODELLE

  I’m stretched out on the couch with my nose in my e-reader when I hear the keys jingle in the lock.

  Wow, Lance is home a little earlier than expected.

  I guess his date didn’t go so well. That makes me happy, but I immediately feel guilty. He’s a nice, hard-working single daddy, and he deserves some loving. As much as I’d like to be the woman to give it to him, I know that’s impossible. He’s big-time off-limits. And I’m stupid for feeling jealous. His love life is none of my business.