21 Taboo Tales

by Robin Pressley

  “Et tu Brute?” My dad quirks an eyebrow at Heston who just shrugs. Then Daddy turns his eyes back to me and shakes his head. “Fine, you can stay, but on one condition—and this is non-negotiable, Trish. You have to go and change into something more presentable.”

  “But what’s wrong with what I’ve got on?”

  I make a sweeping gesture over my body. As I do so, I realize maybe Daddy does have a point after all. I mean, my tiny little vintage T-shirt is pretty gosh darn tight, and it’s cropped to show off my belly button. Plus the cutoff jeans I’ve got on down below are scandalously short too. Just imagine if he knew what I’ve got on underneath. My feet are bare, showing off my freshly painted hot pink toenails.

  “For one, thing,” Daddy grumbles, “Those shorts, if I can even call them that, leave half of your dang hiney hanging out…”

  “Daddy!” I exclaim.

  I can’t believe that he’s chastising me for my clothing this way. But even more than that, I’m a bit shocked by the implication of what he’s saying. I mean, sure, if I was dressed up in a skimpy outfit in public, that would be one thing. But these guys are all Daddy’s friends, and they’re all twice my age as well.

  Surely Daddy isn’t worried about his own friends checking out his daughter’s body. Right?

  I mean, these three older men are almost like extra daddies in their own right.

  But as I quickly glance around the room, I notice that Tucker’s eyes are obviously roving over my body, and so are Neil’s. My cheeks and the tips of my ears sizzle with the heat of embarrassment.

  My body has some other strange reactions too. My nipples instantly become hard, and their contour is clearly visible through the thin, stretchy fabric of my vintage tee. But even more surprising is the warm pulse of wet desire that throbs between my thighs. I turn my hips to conceal my crotch just in case any of that shameful moisture should soak through.

  When I turn my eyes toward Heston, however, I realize that he’s not checking out my body at all. His eyes are locked on mine like a pair of heat-seeking missiles, and somehow that intense glare turns me on even more.

  There’s something in his look that seems to say he’s thinking of ways to punish me for being a naughty little brat. I can’t help wondering what he has in mind.

  Meanwhile, Daddy continues with his angry lecture about my inappropriately skimpy outfit.

  “And for another thing—”

  But he is immediately cut off when his smart phone dings, alerting him that he has a text. Grumbling under his breath at the interruption, he drags his phone out of his pocket to check the message.

  “Aw shit,” he mutters under his breath.

  “What’s up?” Neil asks, leaning forward to ash his cigar into a chunky crystal ash tray.

  “Guys, I’m sorry,” Daddy says, “but duty calls. I’m getting called in for an emergency meeting.”

  Daddy is a partner at a big corporate law firm, and he’s a total workaholic. In a way it’s a good thing, because it means he earns a ton of money so we can have this nice house. But the downside is that he always has to go in to the office at crazy times when surprises come up.

  “On a Sunday?” Tucker asks, starting to stand up. “Damn, that sucks man. There’s another game after this one.”

  Daddy motions for Tucker to sit back down.

  “Don’t worry about it fellas,” Daddy says. “You guys should hang out and watch the next game.”

  “Are you sure?” Heston asks.

  “Of course,” Daddy says with a big grin. “Mi casa es su casa, as they say. Just make yourselves at home and help yourselves to anything you want.”

  Before he leaves, he turns to me with a stern look.

  “And as for you, young lady. Remember what I said. I want you to change into something more presentable in front of our guests. And I don’t want you bothering the guys. They’re here to enjoy themselves, and while I’m away, they are all three the men of the house. So you’d better obey them and do exactly what they say. Understood?”

  I flash him a sweet smile and nod.

  “Yes, Daddy,” I answer in a sing-song voice. “I promise to be good.”

  “Good,” he says as he heads out the door. “Hopefully this won’t take long. I’ll let you guys know what’s up.”

  And then he’s out the door and stomping off down the hall.

  I pull my bare feet up onto the sofa and get nice and comfy.

  “So, who’s winning?” I ask as if I care. All I know is that I’m winning when it comes to getting what I want from Daddy and his best buddies, and that’s really all that matters to me. As far as the football game, I couldn’t care less. But I want to at least make an attempt to fit in.

  Heston reaches his big Cuban stogie from the chunky ash tray and takes a big puff, the blue smoke curling sensuously when he exhales.

  “You just gonna ignore what your Daddy told you?” he asks in that rumbly, grumbly voice of his. “About changing your clothes?”

  I pout my lips, knit my brow and give Heston my very best puppy dog eyes from under my long, curled lashes.

  “Aw, do I really have to, Heston?” I plead. “You wouldn’t tell on me would you?”

  Neil and Tucker both just shake their heads and chuckle, but I could swear that Heston growls a little bit. I know the sound didn’t come from that big old bearskin rug on the floor.

  “Hey, I’m not your Daddy,” he snorts before puffing his cigar again. “You do what you want, brat.”

  I slump back into the cushions of the leather couch to pout and sulk. I can’t believe everybody keeps calling me a brat today. It’s so unfair.

  But soon everyone’s attention is back on the game. And even though I don’t have a clue what’s going on or who is even playing, I find myself just naturally getting caught up in their enthusiasm.

  Plus, the most exciting part is that the guys like to bet. A lot. I mean, they make bets on every little thing. Like how far the players can move the ball on one play. Whether or not they will score. They even bet on whether or not the referees will change their call after reviewing a replay.

  And we’re not just talking chump change here. These guys are betting minimum a hundred dollars each time, but usually even more than that. It’s crazy but also really exciting. Even though I’m not betting with them, it still makes it feel like something is at stake.

  Plus, even though I don’t know squat about football, I can tell it’s a tense game. It’s getting near the end, but the score is really close.

  Then right when things are getting good, they take a break and switch to a commercial break, which is secretly my favorite part.

  “Fuck me, look at that,” Neil grunts from his armchair.

  I blush a little because I’m super surprised to hear Neil using salty language like that. But I’m even more surprised by what he’s referring to. There’s a Victoria’s Secret lingerie ad playing, and a group of tall, sexy ladies are strutting around in their undies while their perfect hair blows in the wind.

  “Yeah, just look at that sweet little ass,” Tucker says and whistles as one of the models shows off her thong.

  Oh my God, I can’t believe these guys are talking like that with me in the room. Then again, it is the man cave after all.

  “Can you imagine walking around with a string up your crack like that,” Heston snorts. “It’s gotta be uncomfortable.”

  “Actually it’s not uncomfortable at all,” I chime in. “As long as you get a good fit, you can’t even feel it.”

  Heston quirks an eyebrow at me.

  “Oh really,” he asks. “And how do you know so much about it, young lady?”

  “Come on,” I giggle. “How old do you think I am, Heston? I wear a thong every day. As a matter of fact, I’ve got that exact pair,” I add, pointing to the model who is shaking her booty on the television screen.

  “No kidding?” Tucker chuckles.

  “Yeah,” I say turning toward him with a big smile. “Actually
, I’ve got them on right now!”

  As soon as I’ve blurted out those words, I realize that was probably too much information to be sharing with Daddy’s friends. But they were all talking loose and dirty, and I guess I just got caught up in the moment.

  There’s a brief, awkward silence filled with the sound of creaking leather as the guys shift uncomfortably in their seats. Then, mercifully, the game comes back on.

  “All right, here we go,” Neil says excitedly. “They’ve gotta make this field goal to win the game.”

  “I don’t know,” Heston says. “That’s a sixty-five yard field goal. If he makes that kick, it will be a new NFL record. I don’t think he can do it.”

  “I have faith in him,” Tucker says, “He can do it all right.”

  “Wanna bet?” I blurt.

  I’ve been wanting to get in on the gambling for the whole game, and this seems like as good a chance as any. My gut tells me to go along with Heston on this one. He’s usually right about everything. Plus, if it’s going to be a new record, it seems pretty darn unlikely that the kicker will be able to pull it off.

  “Trish,” Heston warns me.

  “Sure,” Tucker says as a sexy smile plays across his lips. “What are the stakes, Trish?”

  I shrug.

  Tucker’s got a point there. I hadn’t even thought about it, and I definitely don’t have the kind of money these guys do. I mean, I’ve got my bank card, but I don’t roll around with a wad of hundred-dollar bills in my pocket.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Tucker says, his grin widening. “If he misses, I’ll pay you one thousand dollars…”

  He takes a big roll of bills from his pocket, thumbs out ten curled-up hundreds, and sets them on the table next to the smoldering ash tray and sweating glass of Scotch on the rocks.

  “Tucker,” Heston now warns his friend, and I can feel a strange tension in the air.

  “What if he makes it?” I ask, struggling to conceal the tremor in my voice.

  Tucker’s wicked grin spreads.

  “If he makes the kick, then you show us those little panties you’ve got on.”

  I gasp, hardly able to believe that Tucker would have the audacity to even suggest such a thing. I glance around at Neil, but he’s just chuckling as he always is with a twinkle in his eye.

  I’m certain that Heston will shut it down, but he doesn’t say anything at all. He just glares at me with his intense eyes.

  My eyes shift to that stack of bills on the table. A thousand bucks is a lot for a broke-ass college student like me. Okay, fine, Daddy takes care of everything I need, but he really only covers the bare necessities. He’s not shelling out for things like facials and day spas.

  Plus, there’s basically no way that Tucker’s gonna win this bet.

  “Deal,” I say, trying to sound calm and cool, and failing miserably.

  The room gets quiet again as we all turn our attention back to the TV. On the screen, the kicker lines up and boots the ball down the field toward the goalposts. The football flies in a long arc, tumbling end over end as it soars through the air. It’s perfectly centered, but I’m absolutely certain that it will fall short.

  Somehow the seemingly impossible happens. The ball hit’s the horizontal bar of the goalposts, but it still manages to bounce through. The referees raise their arms to signal that the kick was good.

  On the TV, the crowd is going wild. The game just ended with an upset and a record field goal.

  “Well how do you like that,” Neil says with a hearty chuckle.

  Tucker grins at me from his arm chair.

  “Looks like I win,” he laughs. “Time to pay up, buttercup.”

  My cheeks flush with heat and the tips of my ears burn as a strange, uncomfortable feeling coils in the pit of my stomach.

  Surely Tucker can’t really be serious, right? I mean, the only reason he made that bet about me showing my panties is because he thought there was no way he would win.

  I glance around the room, but the other guys aren’t offering any help. Neil is just smiling like always. If anything he should be giving me a hand here. I mean, it’s his fault I’m even in this situation in the first place. He’s the one who first suggested that it would be okay for me to hang out in the man cave after all.

  But Heston, of course, is even less helpful.

  “Well?” Heston says. “You made a bet, and you lost.”

  I cringe back into the corner of the couch, barely able to believe what I’m hearing.

  “B-but…”

  “But what?” Heston asks, the slightest trace of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You don’t want me to tell your Daddy that you welched on your bet, do you?”

  “What?” I gasp in shock. “You wouldn’t actually tell him!”

  Now it’s Neil’s turn to speak.

  “I don’t think he’d be too happy, Trish,” he says softly. “First you directly disobeyed him by not changing your outfit. Second you were gambling, which I’m sure he wouldn’t approve of. And now you’re gonna renege on your bet? It’s not a good look, Trish.”

  I can’t believe it. Neil is supposed to be on my side. Plus, his logic doesn’t make any sense.

  “Oh yeah?” I retort. “And do you think Daddy would be happy to hear what you guys are suggesting right now? Do you think he’d be happy to find out that his best friends forced his little girl to give them a strip tease in the man cave?”

  For a few seconds, the only sound is from the television, where the crowd is still cheering over the incredible victory. The cigars silently burn in the wide notches of the ashtrays. A melting ice cube shifts and clinks in someone’s glass.

  Heston is the first to break the silence.

  “Nobody’s forcing you to do anything here, sweetheart,” he says aggressively. “You’re the one who was practically begging to hang out in the man cave. That was your choice. But now you’ve got to play by the men’s rules.”

  He leans closer.

  “Besides, you’re doing a terrible job of hiding how bad you want to show us.”

  “Heston!” I gasp even louder as the heat in my cheeks doubles.

  “Oh, come on,” he says. “You’ve been getting off on strutting around in front of your Daddy’s friends in your skimpy little outfit, and you know it. Just look how excited you are.”

  His eyes dip to my chest where my traitorous little nipples have stiffened into hard beads. And as much as I try to deny it, he’s right. Being surrounded by all of the testosterone in this man cave is getting me hot and bothered, and it’s making me want to be a naughty girl in front of Daddy’s friends.

  But it’s way too taboo. I mean, it’s like, totally forbidden.

  Still, the way the guys are all staring at me now, I know they aren’t going to let me off the hook. And Heston is right. Part of me wants to expose my little tushy too these older men. As messed up as it sounds, I think I want their approval.

  With a whole freaking flock of butterflies fluttering around in my tummy, I slip off the couch, walk around the coffee table, and stand on the bearskin rug. The thick, warm fur feels nice between my toes.

  “That’s a good girl,” Neil says.

  Unbuttoning my jean shorts and unzipping the fly, I hesitate, glancing around the room at the guys.

  Neil gives me an encouraging nod.

  Tucker slouches back in his seat and sips his whiskey.

  Meanwhile, Heston just glares at me. His stare frightens me, but I kinda like it.

  OK, here goes nothing.

  Bending at the waist, I slide my shorts down my smooth tanned thighs, until they are around my ankles. I carefully step out of them and kick them aside before standing up.

  “Move your hands,” Tucker says casually, making a flicking gesture with his finger.

  I realize I have instinctively covered my crotch with my folded hands. I shouldn’t feel so embarrassed. I mean, all of these guys have seen me in my bathing suit before. Then again, the narrow stri
p of fabric on the front of these panties is super thin, and the shadow of my neatly trimmed pubic hair is visible through the sheer lace.

  “Remember,” Heston reminds me, “Your Daddy said to obey us and do whatever we tell you.”

  Nervously, I spread my hands and let them hang at my sides.

  “Very nice,” Tucker says smoothly.

  He sets down his whiskey glass with a clink and the leather of his armchair creaks as he stands up. He makes a twirling motion with his finger.

  “Turn around,” he says nonchalantly. “Give us a look at that little tush.”

  I just can’t believe how lah-dee-dah Tucker is being about all of this. Like it’s no big deal at all. Has he forgotten that I’m his buddy’s daughter?

  But I do as he tells me. My feet seem to move of their own accord without me even thinking about it. I turn around and show the men my bum.

  “Fuck, just look at that perfect little rump,” Tucker groans. “Damn, Trish, I didn’t realize just how grown up you’d become.”

  “Really?” I breathe as the blush in my cheeks intensifies.

  “Hell yeah,” Neil adds, and I can hear him rising from his chair too. “Those Victoria Secret models have got nothing on you, darling. Your little ass is absolute perfection.”

  “Neil!” I cry, but I can’t hide the giggle in my voice.

  Something about receiving dirty praise from these older men sends sexy chills tingling up my spine.

  “Shit,” Tucker says drawing near, “with a banging little body like that, you must be leaving a trail of broken hearts up there at the college.”

  “Yeah,” Neil adds, coming close on the other side, “I bet you must have to beat them off with a stick.”

  I shake my head.

  “Not really,” I say.

  The two men circle me like a pair of hungry sharks, their eyes unabashedly roving over my body. I can feel my nipples somehow becoming even more erect beneath my top. And they aren’t the only nubbins that are becoming stiff. My clit is practically tingling with arousal now, and my pussy lips are growing full and slippery with moisture.

  “Oh, come on, you don’t have to lie to us,” Neil say, turning me by my shoulder.

  Well, I guess he’s right in a way. I mean, I do get lots of attention from the boys at college. In fact, come to think of it, at every party I’ve always got hordes of horny frat boys trying to get inside my pants.