Mega Huge Collection of Rougher Daddies Taboo Sexy Stories for Women
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Written by Lara Friedman
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1-150 Taboo Erotic Sex Story!
Enjoying the View
"I'm running over to Wal-Mart, do you need anything?"
Julie was leaning into my office, wearing something low-cut as normal. She had humongous tits, and even though she was married, she enjoyed showing them off. She wasn't skinny, and not the best looking woman around, but those boobs looked incredible under the shirts she wore. During the winter, I'd always wait for the weather to get warmer so more cleavage would be shown. Today, she didn't disappoint. I was ready to get up and take a break, so I said that I wouldn't mind going also, and offered to drive. She told me that she had the minivan, so we could take her car.
We got in the car, and I just had a great view of her tits through the shirt she had on. Whenever we went over a bump, they jiggled, and I started getting hard. Those boobs were humongous, how could I NOT? We stopped at a light, and she reached down into the console to check her phone...and showing me cleavage. I just wanted to put my hand down her shirt and feel them. Then...I was busted.
"Enjoying the view?" she asked as she pulled away from the light and neared the Wal-Mart parking lot.
I knew what I WANTED to say, but felt that since we worked together and were both married, I had to play it cool. "Um, what view, the strip mall there?"
Turning into the lot, she chuckled aloud. "No, I meant down my shirt. That IS where you were looking, right?"
"Well, I did notice things," I tried, seeing where that would go. Suddenly, we were parking in a spot along the side of the building. She shifted into park and turned towards me. "Well, I was hoping you noticed my tits."
"And why were you hoping that?" Yeah...I was getting harder, and didn't try to hide it. I definitely wanted her to notice that!
Inhaling, like she was trying to gather the fortitude to say something bold, she said, "Because I like knowing you're looking at my tits. They're 40Fs, and hopefully, they make you hard."
I looked away from her face and down at her chest. Her cleavage was awesome. "Ok, now I am looking," I said with a laugh. She looked down at my crotch, and said, "Yeah, and it looks like they're making you pretty damned hard, too!"
We just sat there, still belted in. Her eyes were glued to my bulging crotch, and my eyes were on her tits. After what seemed like a few minutes, she just put out her hand, touched my leg, and moved her palm slowly up to my crotch. Feeling her hand rubbing my hardening cock through my pants, I groaned, said 'fuck it', and reached out for her tits. Putting my hands under them, I rubbed them though her shirt and bra, noticing her nipples hardening up.
We simultaneously took off our belts, and she said, "move into that seat", pointing at the captains chair behind my seat. She let go of my pants, and I quickly moved into that seat. Julie was right behind me, reaching for my belt. Undoing it quickly, she reached into my pants and pulled out my hard, throbbing dick. "Holy fuck, THAT is what I wanted!" Her hand gripped the shaft tightly, and started moving up and down as precum started seeping out of my tip. Loving the feel of that, I growled, and reached out to her tits. She stopped jerking me off to take off her shirt and unhook her bra. I moaned seeing those gigantic tits, and started squeezing them. While her hand went back to fisting my dick, I was playing with her hard nipples and pushing them together, imagining them wrapped around my cock.
"Baby, you know what?"
"What?", I asked.
"I really need to eat that cock. I mean, I am just dying to shove it in my mouth and get a huge fucking load of your cum out of that huge, beautiful prick!!" Before I could even say a word, she shoved her face down onto my cock and took every single inch of my meat until I felt her tongue flicking my balls. She then started to fuck her own throat with my dick, making the most awesome slurping, sucking, and gagging noises while I watched her awesome titties shake in my hands.
After about a minute of heavenly cocksucking, she removed my throbbing dick from her throat, and pulled back so that her tits were no longer in her hands. Grabbing my saliva-covered cock, she wrapped her fingers around it tight and started jerking me off HARD. Looking up at me, she said, "I know what you want."
Moving closer, she gently placed my cock in the middle of her incredible cleavage, and wrapped her big, fat titties tightly around it. Pushing them together, I could barely see the tip - and DEFINITELY couldn't see the rest of my cock! I inhaled as she started moving those tits up and down my dick, from the tip down to my balls. Picking up speed, the head of my cock was hitting her in the chin, so she slurped it loudly each time that she brought her cleavage down my shaft. My eyes were blurring up because the feel of those huge soft tits squeezing my throbbing meat. This was something I had jerked off picturing so many times, tittyfucking this woman's huge melons! Between the sounds of her slurping on the tip each time it came near her lips and the slapping of her tits against my thighs and the sight of my happy cock tightly between them, I knew I was going to unload all over her.
Hearing me start to growl, she asked me if I was getting close. I nodded, and watched her smile as she intently fucked my cock with her awesome boobs. "Mmmm...now I have to decide if I am going to eat that hot fuckin load or let you spray it all over me," she said. "Decisions, decisions!"
Hearing her say something about taking my load brought me to the edge, and I exploded. She was expecting it, because she looked down at my hard cock poking out of her cleavage and took a big dollop of cum that hit her square in the bridge of her hose. She quickly let go of her tits and just lowered her mouth onto my dick and throated it, going all the way down to my balls while swallowing load after load. I was fighting to keep my eyes open, because I wanted to remember the picture of her sucking down my hot cum while having every inch of my dick down her throat with a string of cum across her face. Finally I stopped convulsing, as she ran her mouth up and down my shaft while gently rubbing my balls.
This would definitely give me something to think about every time I saw her in the office from now on!!
The End.
Rhonda's Life after Capture
Six months ago, Rhonda had been a thirty-four-year-old waitress in the mess on an Altruvian space station and trading post. Her job paid well, if only on account of the value of the station and its distance from any well-settled territory. Three months ago, she was still working in the mess, but she wore a navy uniform and carried a pistol. The station had been mobilized for war -- although everyone said the enemy were sure to lose, the Canberrans had taken to raiding even merely economic Altruvian assets. Rhonda was fit for her age, brunette, narrow-waisted, with a generous bust and wide hips. Today, Rhonda was a ponygirl slave in the stable of a Canberran lord whose starships had made a daring raid on her station in the darkest days of the war, shortly before Canberra brought the conflict to its ignominious and untimely end.
Rhonda was standing in the cobblestone courtyard at the center of the lord's expansive stables. Her wrists were bound tightly together behind her back; the leather cuffs were clipped both to the tight metal band that sat just above her waist, and to the metal ring that joined the two parts of her crotch-strap. Whenever she leaned forward, her wrists shifted the strap upward, making it dig uncomfortably into her pussy. She was leaning forward now.
She could hear the swift movements of her master behind her. "Bitch -- present," he said -- this meant she was to spread her legs and bend over, allowing him to easily inspect her crotch-strap from behind. As she stood in that very uncomfortable position, he tightened the straps that
held her gear together behind her back, making the strap dig into her even more uncomfortably. She stumbled slightly, trying to keep her balance on the high hoof-boots.
Her day, which she understood was meant as training, was difficult -- the lord whipped her often and hard as he sat in the dogcart behind her, which for some reason was much more heavy than it had ever been before. Rhonda's crotch-strap chafed and the buttplug attached to her tail felt like it would pop out if only it were not held in so tightly by the outfit she was forced to wear. She clamped down on her bit as she put her weight into hauling the cart.
Her training continued at a high intensity for a week, and then she was rested for three days straight, to her relief. On the fourth day, she found out why -- she was stuffed in a wire mesh cage barely big enough for her and put in the dark hold of a hovercraft, and when the door of the transport finally opened, she was at a country racetrack. The sun was out and the day was heating up, but the racetrack had been newly soaked with water and the dirt was loamy and wet. Some hills covered with sparse Canberran shrubs were set behind the track; and in front of it, there stood a set of tasteful white pavilions, adorned with flags, and the Canberran gentry were readying themselves for a day of drinking lemonade and watching their buxom ponygirls toil and sweat.
As Rhonda backed between the whippletrees, she bent forward as she had been trained, and the strap dug into her pussy and chafed as always. Today, her master tightened it harder than he ever had before, and she whinnied, stuck her ass out and prepared it for his whip as she felt him climbing up into the carriage. Girls to her left and right, probably recently acquired Altruvian spoils too, bent over in the same humiliating position, gesturing with their asses as if to invite their owners' lashes on their soft skin. Rhonda scraped a hoof against the ground, readying herself for the race.
When it was over, her ass and thighs were striped with the marks of her master's whip. Her thigh-high boots and bare thighs were splattered with mud from the dampened track. Her pussy was scarlet and sore from the chafing strap. She had not won, but she had outpaced a few of the girls.
She thought she might be given a rest, and her wiplash marks treated, but her master decided otherwise. He took a piece of cord with a loop in one end, slid it over her head, and yanked downward sharply. He tied it to the iron ring in her pussy so that she was forced to walk about in a bent-over position, wobbling on her hips and with her ass sticking out. He led her on a leash as he talked to his friends and colleagues at a cocktail party under the largest pavilion. She was oft-admired, but instead of any tender touch she was apt to receive a smack on the rump.
The End.
Amateur Night at the Blue Nile
"Are we nearly there yet? This doesn't look anywhere classy." Clarissa tried to keep the petulance out of her voice. She knew she should be flattered by the stretch-limo and the Dom Perignon, glass number three of which was fizzing its way down her throat, but why the hell were they driving about dingy back-streets?
"Relax," her companion said. "Shoreditch is the new Soho. Home to all manner of delights. Where we're going is a different type of exclusive." The way he said it made her shiver like a thousand bursting champagne bubbles.
She tugged her white mini-dress, the one he had insisted she wear, down her bare thighs as a sop to demureness. Pearl earrings and necklace complimented; hair was swirled into a chignon. The picture of youth and beauty, sweet and languid as on the day of her debutante ball. The man beside her should be proud to have her grace his arm?though admittedly he looked fine in that tuxedo, carrying his upper body-mass with such suaveness and composure. Maddeningly he refused to fawn on her. Well she'd pander to his ego a while longer. Snare him the indirect route.
"We're here."
She looked about and saw nothing but a warehouse district. The limousine was wheeling towards one massive entrance sealed off by an iron partition.
"Gavin, we're not anywhere." She weighted the use of his name with condescension. Her father having introduced him as 'Mister McClain', it satisfied her to do so. She mightn't be the world's greatest secretary and employing her might have been a favour, but she'd got higher attributes and he'd damn well learn to acknowledge them.
"We're somewhere very particular," he responded, hand resting on hers, engulfing it. Despite her willowy height she felt little beside him. "Do you really think I'd take out a girl like you and not give her a night to remember?" She looked into his dark eyes and shivered anew. They drank champagne and her womanly pretentions dissolved in girlish excitement. Clarissa had no idea what was going on, but suddenly it felt like adventure.
The car paused, then a metallic rumble announced the partition's rising and they rolled into a huge floodlit space. A warehouse, swept clean but abandoned by all industrial pursuit.
"Where the hell is this?"
Gavin smiled wordlessly as the grey-uniformed chauffeur opened her door. She climbed out, her date joining her as she stared around the vast empty space. Nothing remarkable, aside from subterranean rhythms vibrating through the soles of her stilettos.
"Come with me." She took the proffered arm and the click of her heels echoed through the concrete hall as they walked to a downward-stairway at the rear. Music soaked though the walls as they descended around corners and Clarissa's heart pounded in time. She was about to be made privy to some delicious secret. One final corner and they confronted a miked-up and dinner-jacketed flunky guarding an iron door.
"Gavin McClain and companion. We're on the guest list."
The stone-faced guardian cracked a smile. "That's quite all right, Mr McClain. Have a good night sir."
"Thank you. I intend to. Birthday boy arrived yet?"
"He has, sir. He's being looked after."
"Very good."
Clarissa would have voiced her puzzlement, but her partner was guiding her through the now opened door into a covert reception area, till she could recognise the tune playing. "Inside and Out. I like this song. Gavin, where are we?" Gavin exchanged words with receptionist, as Clarissa tried to peer further. Then his arm was at her back and he was steering her down a curving passageway.
"Welcome, my dear, to the Blue Nile."
The corridor widened into a shimmering river of aqua-marine light. It bathed Clarissa and sucked her like a powerful current inside the high-ceilinged venue. Blue-white enveloped her like she was drowning in liquid crystal. Shimmering sexiness, enhancing the tide of beautiful patrons, male and female. Clarissa spun three-sixty, drinking it all in?the sparkling granite-topped furnishings and smooth undulation of the interior walls. "This place is amazing! Why don't I know about it?"
"It has a way of keeping its secrets. Drink?"
"Yes. Blue Lagoon." She giggled at succumbing to the power of suggestion.
The broad avenue split and curved around a circular central bar, to which Gavin proceeded, leaving Clarissa to wander. Male patrons were dressed to the same level of refinement as her boss, their partners?in some cases numbering more than one?all high-class slink and poise. She gazed to points around the bar where the walls appeared to curve into chambers discreet from the rest of the room. Each one was flanked by security, a distinctly-coloured glow at odds with the blue of the main bar radiating from within?ochre, maroon or emerald. A young couple paused at the maroon entrance, the male partner flicking a card from his breast pocket for the security guy could check it. Granted a cursory nod, the couple passed through to be swallowed by the room's mysteries.
"What's with the all those crafty spaces around the sides?" Clarissa inquired, as Gavin returned with drinks.
"A Nile special feature." He pressed the Blue Lagoon into her hand and sipped his Scotch. "Themed lounges for guests who require, shall we say, some down-time. There's the Arabian Room, Egyptian naturally, a bit of sequined ooh-la-la in the Moulin Rouge ... And others more daring elsewhere. Staffed on request."
Clarissa was not sure whether to be entertained or appalled. "Is this place a ..."
"It's what
you want it to be. Somewhere to drink, dance, socialize ... or to indulge in fantasy. The lounges are an option, as is the erotic cabaret. The Nile is only as exotic as any patron desires."
She stared at him, music thrumming through her body. His expectations eluded her, as did the precise nature of what she wanted herself. He was the only boss she'd ever had and her job hung by a thread, but she did not want to be out-manoeuvred in some sexual fantasy of his. "How exotic an evening were you banking on, Gavin?" She added an imperious tilt to her chin. "Are you expecting to show me around a lounge?"
"I wouldn't be so presumptuous," he said. "You're here as my guest, Clarissa, not my employee. And a girl like you must be so used to West End nightclubs and Michelin star restaurants. So at the risk of offending, I thought I'd surprise you with somewhere different. Purely to enjoy the ambiance and a frisson of danger. You're a girl who embraces danger now and then, right?"
Clarissa's lower belly warmed, not only due to her cocktail. She didn't like to admit how much this man fascinated her. "Maybe." She smirked, clinking his glass with hers. "And I'm not offended. It's nice to be brought somewhere so ... exclusive. Is it really such a big secret?"
"Put it this way ..." His mouth at her ear made her shudder. "You were lucky not to be blindfolded en route."
"Blindfolded?"
"Silk of course, in keeping with the establishment. Permanent members are concerned about anonymity. Cameras and recording equipment get confiscated and result in immediate expulsion. So, most guests are kept in the dark, literally, regarding location. I had to make a special arrangement on your behalf. Didn't want you to be too disconcerted on the way here."
"I'm flattered." The thought of a silk blindfold had Clarissa's heart speeding once more. "So why do you get preferential treatment?"
"The Nile's owner is a friend. And I assured him of your discretion."
"You know me that well? Sure I won't blab?"
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