21 Taboo Tales

by Robin Pressley

  What we are doing is so beyond wrong it’s not even funny. But Heston’s eyes show no signs of disapproval.

  Finally Tucker and Neil’s pulsing orgasms subside, and we lie there panting for a moment as Heston towers over all three of us. But he doesn’t give me long to rest.

  “All right,” he growls, “Get her up and put her on the couch. It’s my turn.”

  A minute ago I couldn’t believe the Heston was even going to allow this to happen, but now I’m even more surprised that he’s actually gonna fuck me. He’s the disciplinarian of the group. He’s the strict one.

  But he’s also the alpha.

  “Now!” Heston demands, and Neil and Tucker do exactly as he says. Not even waiting to catch their breath, they spring into action, lifting me up and carrying my limp, sweating body to the couch. I’ve already been used in every way imaginable. But it seems that Heston has one last act in mind.

  “Spread her out,” he commands as he approaches and towers over me, his hard cock glistening with my saliva and drooling precum.

  Neil holds me down on the left side, and Tucker gets my right. They spread my legs apart as Heston gets into position.

  “Heston,” I whine as he rubs his head against my slick clit. “Please…”

  “You like getting attention from older men?” he asks as he grips his shaft and angles it into position. “Well now you’re gonna get all you can handle.”

  With one forceful thrust, he seats himself balls deep inside me, and I immediately come again as his long, thick cock penetrates me to my deepest core. Lucky for me, my pussy is already stretched and gaping from Tucker’s cock, so it swallows Heston’s pole relatively easily.

  “Shit, you really are a sensitive little thing, aren’t you?” he grins.

  While the other two men hold me, Heston draws his length back until his cockhead slips all the way out, and then he thrusts into me again. And again.

  “Fuck, baby girl, you look so sexy like that,” Neil purrs as he holds my arm and leg.

  I know I must look like a total mess right now. My body is ravaged. My hair is tangled and messy, my makeup running, my skin slick with sweat and sticky with Tucker’s cum. Meanwhile Neil’s load is leaking from my ass.

  Heston picks up the pace, pounding my pussy with a hard and heavy rhythm that jolts my body and jiggles my tits.

  “Is this what you want?” he grunts. “You want to get fucked by your Daddy’s friends.”

  “Yes!” I scream, “Yes, yes, please don’t stop, Heston! Please don’t stop fucking me!”

  The television is still on in the background, but the sound of the announcers is drowned out by the much louder sounds of the hard fucking that Heston is giving me—the wet slap of his pelvis and balls against my flesh, the huffing and panting of our heavy breathing, and the slippery sounds of suction coming from my squeezing pussy.

  It’s so raunchy. So pornographic.

  But still I want more. Maybe Heston is right. Maybe I am just an insatiable little brat. I want him to spoil me rotten. And I want him to spoil my pulsing, quivering pussy.

  “Come inside me,” I breathe.

  “Trish,” Tucker says, sounding slightly surprised.

  “Please,” I beg, “Please come inside me, please…”

  As I lose myself in the throes of my biggest orgasm yet, Heston plunges himself balls deep in my sweltering depths. His roar is so loud it rattles the pictures on the walls, and I feel his liquid warmth spreading through my insides.

  He’s coming inside me. My Daddy’s best friend is fucking me raw and unprotected, and he’s coming inside me.

  It’s a huge pregnancy risk, but I don’t care.

  At last he pulls back, and his cock slides out of my hole with a loud squelch. Tucker and Neil both lean over to inspect the damage.

  “Beautiful,” Neil says. “That’s the sexiest little cream pie I’ve ever seen.”

  At last, Heston lets me rest. We all lie there together, panting in the aftermath. The cigars are still smoldering in their ashtrays, and the guys start to puff them as they gaze at the mess they made of me and caress my helpless, naked body. Heston takes his sweating glass of Scotch on the rocks and rolls it across my feverish forehead to cool me down.

  “Good girl,” he says at last. “You were fucking amazing.”

  And those words of praise from this dominant alpha are the real cherry on top. They make everything that happened even more special.

  Suddenly, there is a ding from the side table, and Neil checks his phone.

  “It’s your Daddy,” he says to me. “Looks like his meeting is gonna run longer than expected. He says he won’t be back till late tonight, but we’re all welcome to stay for the next game.”

  Tucker grins and grabs the TV remote, turning up the volume. A new game is starting, and the team captains are marching out to the middle of the field for the coin toss to pick who goes first.

  “Hey,” I wheeze from where I’m lying sprawled on the couch. “Let’s make a bet. I say it will be heads.”

  A big grin splits Heston’s face. It’s probably the biggest I’ve ever seen him smile.

  “All right, brat,” he chuckles. “What are the stakes?”

  Deep in the Jungle

  The rainforest is alive with the chirps and calls of exotic birds and wild monkeys. I adjust my olive drab cap to better shield my eyes from the sunlight strobing between the gaps in the jungle canopy as we hike through the dense foliage. Water drips and hot steam rises in coils from the damp ground.

  “Fuck, these mosquitoes are eating me alive,” Zoe groans ahead of me.

  She swats the back of her neck with a hard smack, leaving a little red smear of blood on her fair skin.

  “Screw the bugs,” Chloe huffs and puffs in the back. “My feet are killing me. How much farther do we have to go?”

  “I don’t know,” Phoebe says mopping her sweat-drenched brow. “But I feel like I’m about to die from dehydration over here.”

  Dr. LaCroix turns around and gestures with a finger to her lips for everyone to be quiet.

  “Remember, girls,” she says softly, “We must stay aware of our surroundings and be as quiet as possible. We don’t want to distract Dr. Goodman. Here, Phoebe, I’ve got some extra water.”

  She passes her sloshing canteen back to Phoebe who snatches it away and starts guzzling water greedily. Dr. LaCroix just shakes her head and continues marching ahead into the jungle.

  Honestly, I don’t know why the other girls are complaining so much. We all knew when we signed up as research assistants that it was going to be a long and arduous expedition deep into the heart of the Amazon.

  I think Zoe, Chloe, and Phoebe all imagined it would be some kind of tropical paradise. A way to get some easy college credits over the summer. Now they are learning that’s not the case.

  But I for one am not concerned with the bugs or the sweltering heat of the dark, dense rainforest. Nope, all of my attention is focused on one thing, and that is the man at the front of our little group—Dr. Tanner Goodman.

  Ahead of us, he is swinging his big machete to cut a path through the looping vines and thick underbrush.

  The man is like a real-life Indiana Jones—he’s got the sexy hat and everything—but with the body of the Rock. The short sleeves of his tight-fitting khaki jungle shirt are rolled up to show off his sweat-sheened arms which are bulging with muscles and covered all over in authentic tribal tattoos. I’m not talking about some tats that he got at a parlor downtown. These are the real deal, acquired on an expedition deep into the jungles of Papua New Guinea.

  Dr. Goodman is a botanical researcher who has traveled the world searching for native plants that contain compounds that can be used for medical purposes.

  That’s why we’ve ventured so deep into this dangerous jungle. We are searching for the fabled pink banana of the rainforest—a rare fruit that the locals claim is a natural aphrodisiac with properties that restore virility in aging men. Basically it�
�s supposed to be like natural Viagra times ten.

  If anyone is going to be able to find the pink banana, it’s Dr. Goodman. The man is a genius in his field.

  But his credentials aren’t the only thing that’s rock solid about him. He’s also got an incredible, firm looking bubble butt under his tight-fitting khaki shorts. Yeah, he definitely squats. Seriously, I can’t take my eyes off of that thing as he twists his hips, heroically slashing a path for us through the jungle.

  A deep blush washes through my cheeks when he suddenly turns around and catches me with my eyes locked straight on that delicious booty of his. At least he can’t look inside my mind to see how I was daydreaming about squeezing those juicy glutes while he pumps me.

  But Dr. Goodman is so serious and focused on our mission that he doesn’t seem to notice.

  Of course he doesn’t. He’s a stern and experienced older man. I probably don’t even register on his sexual radar. To him, I’m just a silly little girl.

  Besides, a nerdy little virgin like me probably wouldn’t be able to handle a big, rough man like him. But I just can’t help it. I’m not into the college boys my age. What I want is an experienced older man to sweep me off my feet.

  I guess that’s why I’m still a virgin even after a whole year at college.

  “Amber,” Dr. Goodman calls, gesturing. “Let me have another look at that map.”

  Walking past the other girls and Dr. LaCroix, I move toward him, my head lowered in the hopes that the bill of my cap will cover up my girlish blush. I so need to learn how to act like a mature adult around Dr. Goodman, but it’s just too darn hard when he’s got the top three buttons of his shirt open to show off the deep striations of his muscular pecs.

  I drag the map out of my pack and unfold it, handing it to him so he can have a look. While he studies the map, I take a minute to study him.

  Beneath the brim of his hat, his eyes are bright and intense. So much so, I almost expect the map to just burst into flames like someone had focused the sun on it with a magnifying glass. A bead of sweat runs down the masculine arch of his nose. His square jaw lined with short, sexy scruff ticks as he concentrates. He takes a swig from his canteen, and I love the way his tanned throat works up and down as he swallows.

  While he’s got his head tilted back like that, all I can think is how bad I want to plant my lips on his hot skin and give him the world’s biggest hickey. Just thinking about that—about the flavor of his skin—makes my nipples pebble beneath my blue tank top and a warm, slick feeling pools in my panties beneath my brown shorts.

  Gosh, Amber, get yourself under control.

  Once he’s done drinking, Dr. Goodman expels a super masculine breath of satisfaction and drags the back of his arm across his chin to wipe away some dribbles of cool water. He jabs his finger at the map.

  “We’re getting close, Marie,” he says over my shoulder to Dr. LaCroix. “This is close to the spot where Dr. Longwood went missing.”

  A trickle of sweat rolls down my spine and into my butt crack, making me shiver. I can sense a slight tremor of apprehension run through the other girls too.

  Dr. Longwood. He was a British professor who got lost in this very jungle. Shortly before he disappeared, he claimed to have found the pink banana, and we have been using his recovered journals and maps as the basis for this expedition.

  But the chilling question remains—what happened to Dr. Longwood? Did he fall down a ravine? Was he eaten by wild animals? Or worst of all, was he captured by cannibals?

  That thought makes me shudder again.

  Dr. Goodman seems to notice my fear and apprehension. The faintest hint of a smile curls at the corner of his perfect, full lips and he places his big, calloused hand on my bare shoulder, instantly raising my body temperature by a couple of degrees.

  “Don’t worry, Amber,” he says in that rumbling, gravelly voice of his. “No matter what happens, I’ll be here to take care of you.”

  He looks around at Dr. LaCroix and the other student research assistants, Zoe, Chloe, and Phoebe.

  “And that goes for all of you,” he adds with a nod.

  But somehow I can’t help but feel like his touch has marked me out as special. I want so badly to be more than his little map girl. All I want is to please this rough and steadfast older Alpha professor.

  “I think you’re right,” I tell him. “We are getting very close, Dr. Goodman. We’re going to find that pink banana soon, I just know it!”

  He nods as I fold up the map and stow it back in my pack.

  “That’s right,” he says gruffly. “And then we will change the world. There are a lot of women out there who aren’t getting their sexual needs met the way they should be. But with the powerful virility compound of the pink banana, we’re going to change that.”

  Hearing him talk like that sends a pulse of warmth thumping between my legs. I mean, talk about a generous man. He doesn’t care about the wealth and accolades this drug would bring him. He’s just worried about making sure the women of the world are getting off properly.

  I can only imagine how generous he must be to his partners in bed.

  But before I have a chance to start contemplating that thought and really ruining my already drenched panties, a strange rustling sound comes from a thicket of leaves nearby. Dr. Goodman turns his head to listen. He raises his hand to silence our little group.

  Dr. LaCroix and the girls instinctively move closer to the big, strong professor.

  There is more rustling in the jungle. This time it sounds like footsteps. And the sounds are coming from all around us.

  One thing is for sure, whatever is running around out there, it’s not a predator of the four-legged variety.

  As the sounds grow closer, the girls start to panic. Unable to control herself any longer, Phoebe lets out a shrill scream.

  “Run!” she shouts.

  “No,” Dr. Goodman commands. “We can’t panic. We must—“

  But it’s too late, the girls are already crying and scrambling away down the trail that Dr. Goodman has made with his machete. I guess they think they can run all the way back to the village, but they don’t get far.

  There are three soft whizzing sounds, followed by three thunks.

  The girls freeze in their tracks. Zoe swats at the back of her neck again, but this time it’s no mosquito. It’s a bright red feather attached to a dart that is buried in the skin of her neck.

  One by one the girls keel over and collapse into the foliage.

  “Damn,” Dr. Goodman snarls. “Poison darts.”

  “P-poison?” I gasp.

  Holy shit, are they dead? And are we about to be dead too?

  There are more whizzing sounds and something stings the back of my neck like an intense bee-sting. However, it instantly becomes numb.

  “Amber! Marie!”

  Dr. Goodman tries to catch us both, but as I collapse and my vision goes dark, I see that the big, muscular professor has several darts protruding from his back and shoulders as well. He sinks to his knees.

  Shit. We’re totally screwed.

  ***

  Gradually I come to. My body is being rocked back and forth in a soothing way, and sunlight from the rainforest canopy flickers across my eyes. My cap is missing, and my long hair is hanging upside down to brush the forest floor.

  The good news is that I’m not dead.

  The bad news is that I don’t think that’s going to be the case for long.

  Tired groans and sighs come from either side of me. I look around to see the other members of our expedition. We are all tied up by our wrists and ankles and hanging from thick wooden poles being carried by half-naked natives with black bowl cuts wearing nothing but loincloths and body paint

  As I look at the pole I’m dangling from, all I can think is that it’s the kind of set up for roasting big game over a fire.

  Yup, we’re going to be cooked and eaten by cannibals. Now I wish that poison dart had just killed me instead of
knocking me out.

  The other girls are starting to wake up too, and they are taking the situation even worse than me. Soon all three of them are screaming at the top of their lungs despite the efforts of Dr. Goodman and Dr. LaCroix to calm them.

  But when one of the natives shouts a gruff command and threatens them with the business end of his primitive spear, they shut up fast enough.

  We continue onward until the jungle opens into a clearing with a small village of grass huts. There is a large stone pyramid in the middle of the village, and I can only assume that it is some sort of temple. Even in this precarious situation, I have to admit that it’s an impressive structure.

  The natives carry us inside. The interior of the pyramid is a dim, triangular room lit only by a few torches at each of the three corners, sending flickering shadows bouncing around the high stone ceiling.

  There are other natives inside, many of them wearing what appear to be ceremonial masks. There is a round, raised platform in the middle, and at the far end, there is a primitive throne where a masked man is slouched, surrounded by topless women. Some of them are fanning him with jungle leaves while others kneel at his feet running their hands over his legs.

  Okay, I’m guessing this guy must be the chief.

  As we are brought in, the man leans forward in his throne, and says something to the other natives. His voice is full of surprise. But something sounds different about it. And I notice that his arms and legs are hairier than the others.

  He shouts some commands at the other natives. They set us down, and slide the poles out of our restraints. With stone knives, they cut the bindings on our ankles so we can stand up without toppling over, but they leave our hands tied.

  The natives are all staring at us, their eyes flickering in the light of the torches. The other girls are whimpering in fear and clustering near Dr. LaCroix, who is trying to comfort them.

  I instinctively move closer to Dr. Goodman. He is shirtless now—I guess the natives removed it when they retrieved their poison darts from his back—and the hard, sculptured muscles of his torso shine in the torch light

  Meanwhile the chief has risen from his throne to inspect us. We all get a big shock when he addresses us in English with a perfect British accent.