Daddy's Bedtime Taboo Sex Stories

by Kelly Fleming

  "This is insane!" Diana thought. "I only had one sherry!"

  When she tried to assume a more modest pose, however, her body was reluctant to comply. She felt herself blushing furiously as she forced her legs into a normal sitting position. Fortunately, other than that same satisfied look that Diana told herself was all in her imagination, Oliver didn't seem to have noticed anything untoward.

  The rest of the evening was without incident, and after Oliver showed Diana to her room, she felt a tentative confidence that her acceptance of the job as Oliver's assistant had been the right choice.

  Laying her head down on her pillow, Diana fell into the deepest sleep that she had experienced in quite some time. When she woke the next day she felt utterly relaxed. If she had dreamed, they must have been pleasant good dreams because she actually felt like she'd had a good sleep instead of feeling like she'd run a marathon, as she usually did when she woke.

  Julius met her at the bottom of the stairs and directed her to the terrace where she joined Oliver for breakfast. He sat at the table wearing shorts and an unbuttoned cotton short. She couldn't help noticing the well defined muscles of his forearms and legs.

  The sun was already quite warm. Without thinking, Diana pulled her blouse from the waistband of her skirt, unbuttoned the bottom three buttons, and tied the tails snugly beneath her breasts. When she realized what she'd done, she was beyond embarrassed and wanted to button up again. "Please," Oliver said waving away her concern, "It's hot and there's no reason to be uncomfortable." And he quickly changed the subject to put her at ease.

  Oliver told Diana that several of his lesser known works were going to be the subject of a new book. Diana's job was to catalog them and create a complete provenance for each using his handwritten notes as a basis. Then he led her to the office where she was to work. A state of the art computer sat on her desk, and she eagerly sat down to familiarize herself with her work.

  The next thing she knew, it was nearly seven. Since Oliver clearly valued punctuality, Diana put her work aside and went into the house to freshen up. On her way to her room, Oliver stopped her in the hallway. For some reason, she became flustered and the lightheadedness returned. Seeing her sway slightly, Oliver took her arm and, looking at her intently, asked if she fell all right.

  "Y- yes," she stammered, not sure of what had come over her. "I think I just spent a bit too much time in front of a computer screen. I should have taken a break."

  Oliver replied "Yes, you may be right. And your office seemed awfully warm, so I took the liberty of sending Morton to town to buy you some lighter weight outfits. I hope you don't mind. You'll find them in your room." He still held her arm as he spoke.

  Although Diana found this to be rather an odd thing for an employer to do, the feeling of his hands on her skin was making her feel oddly tingly. She made a feeble attempt to retrieve her arm, but Oliver held fast. With that same knowing smile, he took her hand in his and glanced at the ring, nodding with satisfaction. "Good. The ring seems to fit you well."

  At this close contact, Diana felt a small chill run up her spine, and she unconsciously pressed her thighs tightly together and clenched her tingling pussy. This time, she didn't even try to resist the feeling. She hadn't felt so sensual in a very long time, and she might as well enjoy it. After all, it wasn't as if she was going to act on it, right? she mused.

  She realized that Oliver was speaking to her and had to ask him to repeat himself.

  "Why don't you go and change now? I'll see you at dinner." As Oliver turned and departed, Diana couldn't help admiring his butt.

  In her room, Diana found an assortment of clothes stacked according to type – shirts in one stack, skirts in another, dresses in another. There were no shorts or slacks, but since she was perfectly comfortable in skirts, she was satisfied and grateful for the gesture. She decided to shower first, leaving her choice of clothes to later.

  Before entering the shower, she tried to remove the ring. It wouldn't come off, however, perhaps because the rather hot weather had caused her fingers to swell. She shrugged it off and got into the shower. Curiously, the spray of water seemed to touch her body as it had never done before. Her nipples were particularly sensitive, and as the water hit them it almost felt as if they were being pinched and tweaked. Having already been aroused by Oliver's commanding presence, Diana allowed the intense feelings to overcome her in private, where he wouldn't be the wiser. Her hand, the one wearing the ring, traveled to the juncture of her thighs. Slipping her ring finger into her slick channel, she brought herself to one of the most satisfying (albeit brief) orgasms she'd ever experienced.

  When Diana emerged from the bathroom, she looked in the dresser for a clean bra and panties but her underwear drawer was completely empty. Looking around the room, she realized that even the underwear that she had worn that day was missing. The Diana of last week would have become quite suspicious, but now she just felt that same tingling – it seemed to emanate from the ring, but that couldn't be – and she said with a newfound insouciance, "Oh well, it will have to be commando until I find them."

  Sorting through her new garments, Diana saw that they all had one thing in common. Although there was a wide variety of colors, the fabric of each garment was soft, silky, and rather sheer, not quite transparent, but sheer enough to make Diana conscious of her lack of under clothing. She hesitated briefly, then shrugged and chose a knee length peasant dress that belted around the waist. If it weren't for a string that tied at the neck, the top might have slipped off of her shoulders.

  Entering the dining room, Diana saw that Oliver had arrived first. His dark eyes bored into hers as she approached. He rose and held her chair out for her. Although he didn't come into physical contact with her, Diana felt as if his hands caressed her arms as she sat. A shiver ran through her.

  "Is everything alright, Diana?"

  "Um, yes, of course. Thank you."

  "You look lovely in that dress," he said, although his eyes never left hers.

  "Thank you. And thank you for the new clothes. They're beautiful and I'm sure I'll be quite comfortable."

  They remained relatively silent during the meal, Diana feeling very conscious of Oliver's masculine appreciation of her flimsy dress, and Oliver intent on keeping Diana in an edgy state.

  After dinner, Oliver escorted Diana to the library, where he flipped a switch and music began to play from hidden speakers. Again, he sat in his "throne", as Diana had come to think of it, and Diana started to sit on the sofa.

  "No, please remain standing," Oliver requested. "If you would, please stand here." He gestured to a spot a few feet in front of his chair. Diana thought this was extremely peculiar, but she found herself obeying silently.

  "Diana," he began, his tone making Diana quite aware of the sheerness of her dress and her lack of under garments. She actually felt her nipples harden, and she blushed furiously at the thought. She wanted to flee the room, but her feet were rooted firmly in the spot where she had been directed to stand.

  Oliver continued. "I neglected to provide all of the requirements of your position. Now that you've been here and I've had a chance to observe you in this environment, I can fill you in on the rest. You see, Diana, I require more of my personal assistant than handling appointments, correspondence, shopping and the like. The right person must be beautiful, as you obviously are."

  Diana was annoyed. What did beauty have to do with being a personal assistant? The strong, independent woman in her wanted to say "I'm out of here!" and storm out of the room, but she couldn't. Not because she needed the job, nor because of any other reluctance. It's just that her feet wouldn't move from the spot. She began to become frightened.

  "Also, my assistant must be a woman of strong character, and she must be susceptible to the ring," he continued.

  At the puzzled look on Diana's face, Oliver smiled in his satisfied way. "Go ahead. Try to take it off."

  Diana struggled and tugged, but the ring wouldn't budge, e
ven though it was not tight or uncomfortable.

  "You can't. Not while I will it to be on you. You see, the ring makes the right woman do my bidding, even if she doesn't want to. It makes a strong woman submissive, while still retaining her desire to be assertive. In other words, you will accommodate me, yet you will inwardly feel resistance and even shame for submitting. Do you understand?"

  "No! I do not understand. This is absurd. I'm leaving!" Diana spoke forcefully, but her body wouldn't cooperate. Instead, she stood rooted to the spot. But still, she wasn't close to comprehending the entire situation.

  "Let me demonstrate how this will work, Diana. Please come closer to me."

  Diana took three steps forward until she stood right before Oliver, their knees almost touching.

  "Diana, I want you to untie the neck of your dress." Unwillingly, she complied. As she feared, the neckline was now so wide that one of the sleeves started to fall down her arm. Ahe wanted to pull it back up, but couldn't bring herself to do it.

  "Now I would like a lap dance."

  "I beg your pardon! That isn't going to happen!" Diana protested.

  "Oh, it will. I assume you haven't given a lap dance before, but the moves will come to you. I assure you, you will give me a very skilled lap dance, and we'll both enjoy it."

  In spite of herself, Diana found herself starting to sway to the music, slowly at first, then with more passion. She made a few twirls in front of Oliver, her dress billowing out and showing her bare thighs, and she put her hands behind her head, raised her hair, and let it fall wantonly around her shoulders. As she moved, she thrust her hips back and forth in imitation of the sex act.

  While all of this was happened, Diana was aghast. She felt sensuous and ashamed at the same time. She wanted to flee the room, and she wanted to feel Oliver's touch on every part of her body. And despite the conflict within her, her body continued to act as Oliver's willing slave.

  Turning her back to him, Diana sat in Oliver's lap, positioning herself over the huge bulge in his trousers. She pressed her very wet pussy into his cock, which she could feel pulsing beneath the fabric. Twisting so that she remained seated , she brought her hands to Oliver's head, gripping his lustrous hair and pulling his head to hers for a deep kiss. "Mmmm," she moaned as her tongue and his did the dance of ages.

  As she writhed, her body wanted more, even as her mind begged her to stop. Oliver felt the moisture seeping from her cunt and knew it was time to move on. He was so hard, he had to fight to keep from exploding and he said through gritted teeth "Turn around and straddle me."

  Diana did as he commanded, turning quickly so that she could return her pussy to its position over his hard cock. He noticed with satisfaction the sheen of sweat on her chest and the hardness of her nipples. In a low voice, almost a whisper, he commanded "Let the dress fall off of your shoulders. I need to see your breasts."

  Diana was shamefully happy to comply. As she continued to gyrate in his lap, her hand reached for the sleeve that held the dress up. Dropping her eyes in humiliation, she slowly pulled it down and allowed the top of the dress to fall to her waist. As she danced, she arched her back as if to offer the naked mounds to him as a gift.

  Staring at her commandingly, Oliver said "Feed them to me."

  Oh God! Must I? Diana thought. Nevertheless, her hands cupped her breasts, each more than a handful of creamy ivory flesh, with tight rosy nipples that pleaded for attention. She brought her breasts together and raised them to meet Oliver's waiting mouth. Not moving his hands but, rather, compelling Diana to submit fully, he lowered his head to her offering. At first, he gave her nipples just the lightest of licks across the tips. At her moan of frustration, he took one nipple into his mouth and he sucked. He sucked the nipple past his teeth, his tongue swirling around it and his lips pulling. Alternating between nipples, he felt her juices now flowing freely from her cunt. He wanted badly to taste them, but that would come in time. First, she had to pleasure him fully.

  "Take my cock from my trousers," Oliver commanded.

  Her hands fumbling with impatience, Diana struggled with the zipper before she felt the hard, smooth shaft in her hands. She sighed with satisfaction as her hands tenderly pulled it from its confinement. She allowed one finger to stroke the velvety tip while both hands marveled in the thickness of Oliver's enormous cock.

  He allowed her the pleasure of anticipation for a moment, then said firmly, "I want you to fuck me."

  Diana hesitated for a moment, her mind retaining a small bit of control, before she hesitantly raised her dress and stood a bit to allow her to position her glistening pussy at the tip of Oliver's upright cock. Tears formed at the corner of her eyes as she realized what she was about to do and could not stop. With a sudden thrust and a cry, she impaled herself, sinking completely and filling herself with Oliver's thick cock.

  "Fuck me! And play with your breasts!" a now panting Oliver ordered.

  Without further hesitation, Diana rose and fell onto his shaft, her tight pussy straining to accommodate his girth. She gripped her own nipples with her fingertips, pulling and twisting. As she moved up on Oliver's cock, her pussy tightened, nearly causing him to howl with pleasure. Impatiently, he pushed her hands away and took her breasts into his own hands. She gasped his stubbled chin rasped over her nipples.

  Diana continued to fuck him hard, rising and falling on him, her wet tightness alternately pounding and clenching.

  She felt the tremors building inside of her. Her mind tried to fight the inevitable, but her body was more than ready. Oliver's satisfaction at Diana's complete submission to him receded as his own climax loomed. Oliver's hips bucked as his cock swelled and gave a final thrust, shooting its load into Diana's hot, hungry pussy.

  Just when Diana thought that she was completely exhausted and didn't have a remaining nerve, Oliver reached between them and found her clit. With just a pinch of his fingers, he sent a shot of excruciating pleasure through her.

  "You'll do nicely," he murmured.

  The End.

  The Boat

  It was quiet.

  It was perfect.

  The light morning breeze had dropped away to the occasional whispering zephyr which did nothing more than take the edge off the heat of the afternoon sun, blazing down from the deep blue Mediterranean sky. The only sounds were the gentle slap of water against the hull and the quiet chatter of birds in the wooded shore. The yacht pulled lazily at the slack anchor chain, and swung slowly, as if it wanted to change its view of the deserted bay, the sweep of white beach backed by the typical Corsican thicket of hardy, thin leafed shrubs and small trees, the rock strewn hills behind, their grass scorched by the long summer, but waiting patiently for the rains to return and mark the end of another season. The only sign of human habitation was the few sheep patiently tearing at the coarse undergrowth on the distant hills.

  She couldn't see all this, but she pictured it in her mind and wallowed in the natural beauty. The heady aromatic smell of the scrub drifted across the water and mingled with the sharper saltiness of the warm sea air. Her closed eyes made every little sound stand out, and she lay and listened to the slap of water, the whisper of the breeze in the rigging and the distant cackling of gulls arguing over a crabshell, washed up in yesterday's storm.

  Perfect. The quiet. The calm. The warmth. Especially the warmth. She concentrated on the almost burning heat of the sun beating down on her naked body, her back soaking up the rays like a plant long deprived of water sucking in the first raindrops of autumn. She shifted her legs a little, and felt anew the heat on her thighs and buttocks and the warmth of the smooth wooden deck underneath her.

  The quiet clink of glasses told her that her companion was awake, and was coming up on deck. She didn't move, just smiled at how lucky she had been in her choice of sailing partner. The pad of bare feet came closer, and stopped beside. There was a gentle scrape and a clink of ice and glass as a tray was put down, and then silence returned.

  The firs
t kiss landed on her sun baked shoulder. Barely touching her, the kiss of an angel, a kiss so light she could hardly tell that it was finished before the lips touched her again, a little lower this time. And a little firmer. This time she could make out the two separate lips and feel their warmth and softness. Gently the lips withdrew again, and moved an inch lower, where they touched, and then pressed, and then gently nibbled her smooth warm skin. She felt them pause here as they explored and tasted her, and widen a little. Almost imperceptibly, she felt the lips joined by a live tongue, which was now quietly licking the sweat and salt from her back.

  The touch moved lower, reaching the bottom of her back now, and pushing more firmly. A low moan escaped from her and she felt the lips on her back tighten and widen as a smile spread over them. More confident now, the kissing continued, nibbling at her back and down onto her smooth sun browned cheeks. She took a quiet deep breath and felt her stomach tense and her hips push, unbidden, down onto the deck. The lips moved lower, tickling the soft underflesh where her buttocks met her thighs. Her hips twitched at the touch, and as she settled her legs opened a little wider.

  The soft caresses started to move down the back of her legs, tickling, touching, licking, feeling. Touch by touch, kiss by kiss, taste by taste. At the back of her knees she giggled and squirmed. But the magic of the lips stopped her from moving or speaking, and she just grinned and waited as her tormentor addressed her calf and heel, the palm of her foot and finally her toes. She bent her leg at the knee to raise her foot off the floor and the warm wet feel of the tongue between her toes made her squirm and wriggle. And long for more.

  A smooth hand clasped the ankle of her raised foot, and gently pushed it to the side. Responding to the unvoiced request she languidly rolled over onto her back, the heat of the sun baked deck searing her skin and the new warmth of the sun soaking into her stomach and breasts. The hand maintained its loose grip, and held her leg off the deck. The lips resumed their exploration of her body, and slowly traced a path of kisses and nibbles up to her knee, and onto the soft skin of her thigh. Her eyes still shut, she smiled an expectant and luscious smile and slipped her legs apart, opening and exposing herself to the exploring lips and tongue. A new womanly scent mingled with the smell of the sea and the aromatic scrub.