I've got more daddy issues to share with you...
Happy Halloween, my dirty darlings. Are you ready for four new tales of daddy/daughter taboo?
Daddy's Milk Maid - Zoey's hormones are out of control and she can't stop producing milk. Now her fertile body is begging for relief. Can Zoey's father restrain his hunger for her swelling breasts, or will he drink from that forbidden spring?
Master of the House - Nikki's about to discover that her gentle step-father isn't the pushover he appears to be. When this self-proclaimed bad girl questions his authority, he teaches her a lesson in extreme submission that she'll never forget.
Sharing Daddy's Fetish - An open laptop. An obscene video. A surprising reaction. When Savannah discovers her father's secret fetish, she is even more shocked by her arousal. She should be frightened, or angry! That would be normal, right? Instead, this shy daughter becomes obsessed with granting her father's perverted wish: Taking her while she sleeps!
Unspoken Connection - Erin and her father are closer to each other than the rest of their family, their bond a source of strength and comfort in trying times. When the two of them learn about a taboo affair, their initial shock is soon replaced by a mutual arousal. Curiosity leads to excitement, and from excitement to a taboo exploration of their own.
This collection of four erotic shorts is 36,000 words and for readers 18 and up. The bundle is $3.99 but is now available on Smashwords for 25% off!
It was awkward to walk her back to her bed with all the sobbing and squeezing and sniffing, but eventually we settled onto the mattress. I cradled her head against my chest until the tears wet my shirt. "I'm a f-f-freak!" she stuttered.
I stroked her hair. "No, baby," I murmured. "Everybody's got something. I've got this trick knee. Your mother grinds her teeth--"
"That's not the same!" she cried. I chuckled as she burrowed into my chest. "Stop laughing!"
"I'm sorry, princess. I really am. You're right, it's not the same, but a lot of people have stuff like this they have to deal with--"
"Like this?!" she moaned. She pushed off my chest and sat up. Her thick hair whipped back as she ripped her shirt up over her breasts. They jutted out from her purple bra, the skin pinched where they could not be contained. Her eyes burning, she glared at me, forcing me to confront her pain. "They hurt, dad!"
They hurt me, too. Zoey's formerly modest chest had swelled in so short a time. Stretch marks ran along either side, but they could not diminish how succulent her new breasts were. Two big wet patches spread out from the center of the purple cups, proof of the life-giving milk they had absorbed. "What am I supposed to do?" she moaned. "I can't go out like this. Even if I wanted to," her voice broke, "they hurt so bad..."
I gently slid my hands around her bare sides. I felt her ribs quiver like a birdcage on a string. "Honey, you need a bigger bra. That might help with some of the pain."
"What about the milk?" she sobbed.
"One thing at a time," I said. "First you should probably take this off."
"Okay," she sniffed. "Can you help?"
"Uh?" I barely survived my last encounter with my daughter's naked breasts. But my reservations melted under Zoey's teary gaze. She was too upset to help herself, so I just shut my mouth and slid my hands around her back. The bra snapped like it had been set on a hair trigger. Her breasts were so big that they pushed the cups down to her belly before I had a chance to avert my eyes. "Wow," I gasped out.
Zoey pulled the bra off her arms. She clutched her breasts, which were now swollen to the size of cantaloupes. Milk dribbled from her nipples, vibrant white on bubblegum pink. She gazed up at me shyly. "'Wow?'" she echoed.
"I'm sorry, honey. They're just so big."
"Bigger than mom's?"
"Much bigger," I said. "Much...much..." I was having trouble closing my mouth, so I tried swallowing. Unfortunately, my mouth was too dry for that.
Zoey blushed a light vermillion. "I feel a little better," she said. "But there's still so much pressure. What do women do when they have babies?"
"They nurse, honey."
Zoey's beautiful face crumpled on itself. "But I can't! I hate this! I hate my body! I hate--!"
I went with my first instinct, though whether it was the instinct of a man or a father I just don't know. Her shriek was cut short as my lips encircled her nipple. Unable to stop my fingers from seizing the jiggling flesh, I filled both my palms with her breasts. Forcefully, I began to suck.
The change in Zoey was instant. Her sob transformed into a moan as my teeth gripped the swollen nipple. As I sucked her sweet milk, her hands clutched at my back. "D-daddy!"
Words can't do it justice. It wasn't just the flavor of her colostrum that made me hard, it was the act of sucking itself. It was filling my mouth with that tender, perky nipple and squirting new life onto my tongue. My daughter was fertile. She tasted fertile. This was proof that my little princess could harbor and nourish a child. It was a shame that there was no baby, I thought. It felt selfish to hoard this frothy reward.
Zoey's nails dug down to my skin as I sucked harder. I squeezed her other breast until the milk squirted over my cheek. Zoey's clipped intake of breath seemed to invite another suckle, so I pulled my lips away and sealed them over the other tit. I fondled my daughter unapologetically and mashed my face into her pillowy cleavage. I stopped my sucking only to rearrange myself and free my stiff cock from my inseam. I also used the pause in the action to listen for my wife.
When I turned back to my daughter, she was staring at me with wide, unreadable eyes. I held her gaze until I could resist no longer. I licked around her creamy areola and suctioned once more onto her pink nipple. It squirted across my tongue, and I swallowed it loudly.
Zoey was silent save for a few moans of relief. She knew, just as I did, that no matter how helpful this desperate tactic may have been, Beth would probably not be pleased to see us. When I finally reeled back to breathe, she offered her right tit to me. "Can you do this one again, daddy?" Her shy eyes batted at me through the tears.
I didn't take the tit right away. Instead I held her cheeks in my palms and kissed her salty cheek. "Yes, baby. I'll do anything for you."
She grabbed my shoulders and planted a hot kiss on my milky lips. It was close-mouthed, but the hunger was evident in its swiftness. "Thank you, daddy," she whispered. "Does it taste bad?"
"It tastes so good," I groaned. She offered herself to me again and I slipped her pert nipple in my mouth. "Good," she moaned, "...because it feels good."
I cupped my hands under both heavy globes and gave them an appreciative squeeze. "Does that feel good? When I massage them?"
"Yesss," she sighed.
I couldn't remember when, if ever, I'd held a pair of breasts like hers in my hands. They were so full and firm. Their size on her small frame would convince anyone she'd gotten implants, but one touch and their suspicions would be laid to rest. She was soft all the way through, and wonderfully springy. If I squeezed overmuch, Zoey didn't protest. If anything she moaned louder when I sucked from the other nipple and squeezed its delicious juice into my mouth. "Thank you," she sighed. "Oh, that feels so much better. I want you to do this all the time!"
I pushed my nose between her breasts and licked up her chest, where the tears and milk had mingled. "I can do that," I muttered. "I want to do that."
"You do?" she said. We were sinking. We were sinking down on the bed and she had her palms on my cheeks. No, not palms. She was pushing her breasts together, over my face. She was squeezing herself against me, rolling her tits into my nose and chin. Fiercely, I bit down on the doughy flesh. She winced in delicious agony. "It's...it's not just my boobs that are sore," she whispered.
I knew that. The doctor said her baby-making hormones were cranked to eleven. One day she might feel sick, but the next? She was so horny she could barely stand. That was what the doctor stayed behind to tell her. She said she could manage it by herself, or if she had a boyfriend. But Zoey was too shy for boyfriends.
Gently, Zoey's hands touched the top of my head...and pushed me down. I began to kiss towards her bellybutton. "Where is it sore, baby?" I asked. I shivered like a nudist in the arctic circle, unable to believe this was happening.
"Here," she said, and ran her palm between her thighs. "It's like my body knows there isn't a baby in there...and it wants one."
"No, I can't do that, Zoey." But I didn't stop kissing her.
She made a whiny sound in the back of her throat. "We can be careful. So careful. Mom won't know." She was lifting her thighs, spreading her knees as I glided lower still. The zipper was between my fingers. I was pulling it down, watching her wiggle out of her jeans, even as I told her I couldn't...
Zoey sat up on her elbows. My eyes followed the slope of her heavy tits, then struggled to climb to her wicked smile. "Do you want to fuck me, daddy?" she asked.
I had to resist. How could I resist?