Little Brats - Quesa: Forbidden Taboo Erotica (2 page)

“Hey, wait,” he protested. “Qesa. Babygirl, you have to stop. You have to get off.”

“Si, Papa.” She bit her lip, bumping her panty-covered crotch up against his cock. “I want to get off…”

“Qesa!” he cried. “No!”

“Yes, Daddy,” she urged, glancing between his stunned face to his erection, standing straight up, pointing at her navel. Her t-shirt was short, barely covering her belly button, the rise of her breasts pulling it taut. She licked her lips, hands going to her own thighs, her nails digging into the soft skin there to keep herself from touching him just yet. She wiggled her hips, making a tiny circle, bumping his sac, watching his hard cock bounce.

“Qesa, stop! You have to go,” he hissed through gritted teeth, his hands fisting the worn comforter. “Babygirl you can’t do this with Daddy! Fuck!”

The last word came when she dared to touch the head of his cock, lightly running a finger over the drop of precum glistening over the tip. In response, Qesa moved her other hand to cover his mouth, shaking her head at him. She moved her hips, following the longer measures in the song instead of the short beats.

“Now, shhhh, Daddy,” she whispered. “You don’t want Mommy to hear. You know she takes long showers. I promise, I’ll go as soon as the water stops. Until then, let’s dance. We have time for one dance.”

She removed her hand from his mouth and he let out a low hissing sound as she moved slowly to the music. Her hips rolled and rocked and for a moment he just watched her on top of him. Then his hand went to his cock, rock hard between them, stroking as she squirmed faster on top of him. The knuckles of his fist rubbed along her wet pussy, through her panties. It felt so good, she had to stifle a scream bubbling up inside her chest.

Lifting herself and thrusting her hips forward, the wet crotch of her panties clung to her pussy lips as they brushed his cock, making him jerk in response. A strangled cry escaped his lips and he re-angled his hand, rubbing his cock against her upper thighs, her aching pussy, all to the beat of the song, in time with each hot, low, bass note.

Qesa grabbed his wrists—she had to really pull to get him to release the death-grip he had on his cock—and moved both of his hands above his head, settling her chest against his. She nuzzled his stubbly cheek, his breaths coming hard and hot against her ear as she turned to talk into his.

“Let your babygirl do all the dancing, Daddy. You just listen to the music. I’ll make you feel really good.”

Rising back up, she slide her wet, material-covered pussy over his erection, letting the hard, wet flesh run back and forth as his girth opened her folds. He moved with her, picking up the beat.

“Ah, babygirl, the way we work together,” Rafe whispered.

“Yes, Daddy, we move so good together, don’t we?”

He nodded, his face pulling into a grimace, dry fucking her, letting the ridge around his head rub against her clit, the material of her soaked panties creating a hot friction between them. It didn’t take many more measures of the song for her orgasm to build, rocking her world from the inside out. She saw stars behind her closed lids that danced right along with the two of them.

She felt the first stream of his warm semen hit her clit, drawing out her own volatile contractions, as the last verse of the song began to play. With the next rock of his hips, this one much more exaggerated, the head of his cock slipped out from beneath her, sending a stream of cum up his chest, like white paint, spattering his fading tattoos.

“Look what you did to your Baby Girl,” she giggled, her voice still low as she raised her hips, pushed them his way to show him the outline of her pussy, soaked, the thin material clinging to her, leaving little to the imagination. He looked at her and licked his lips.

The final run of the chorus drowned out her thoughts, leaving only the feel of him against her as she fell forward, languishing in the tiny pulses still wrecking her. His hands went around her back, holding her close for one heavenly, final minute.

She heard the water stop and kissed him quickly, a hard press of her lips to his, then climbed off him to slip back to her room.

As Qesa closed her bedroom door, she heard her mother’s voice yell from the bathroom, “Will you turn that music down?”

Qesa was already in the sound booth warming up when her stepfather came in. She returned his warm smile, feeling that heat spreading through her body, remembering. Biting her lip, she turned her head away, letting her body sway. She continued with her warm-up vocals, locking eyes with him, enjoying the way his gaze strayed occasionally drink in the suggestive movements of her limbs and torso. He watched quite a while, obviously enjoying her show, before he motioned for her to come into the production area.

She opened the door, leaning against it, hip cocked. “Yes, Daddy?”

“We need to look at what we got down on the tracks so far.”

“It sounded great earlier—better than great.” She dropped him a coy wink.

“Yes… yes it did.” A slow smile spread over his face. “But, when I could, ah, concentrate a little better, I found some concerns.”

“With what?” she huffed.

“Last line of the chorus.” He raised his eyebrows at her questioning him. It was true, his suggestions were always good ones, even if she didn’t like the extra work they often involved. “That last ‘Si, Si, Si! Yes, Yes, Yes!’ in particular, needs more life, some energy. More excitement. Maybe we can get that from you in another recording with the video? I can layer the vocals again. I’ll set things up to record vocals and image. What do you say? You up for the challenge?”

“Oh, you know I am.” She crooked her finger to have him follow her into the booth where they changed the backdrop and shot videos of her singing. They had to get creative with the limited space they had.

“I can’t get in there with you,” he protested.

“Oh, yes, you can,” she countered, continuing to crook her finger. He had set up the camera and now leaned over the laptop, pushing buttons, typing things on the keys. He was a whiz with all the software, and the used Mac he’d picked up was old, but it did the trick.

“Come on, Daddy.” She winked, turning and swinging her hips seductively, hoping he’d follow. “You want excitement and energy? Let’s do this.”

When she turned to find his big frame filling the tiny space, she smiled and pressed herself against him, sliding her arms around his neck.

“There you are,” she purred, sliding a hand down to the crotch of his jeans, feeling his erection. “Now I can give it all I’ve got.”

“I always knew you were hot,” he murmured, biting his lip when she raked her nails over the denim. “But I never know how naughty my babygirl was.”

“Oh, stick around, Daddy. You have no idea.”

Turning the chair around in front of the mic, she pulled him to her, making him sit in it, his back to microphone. She gave him a view of her cleavage, spilling out of her tight tank top as she bent to unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans. He gave a low growl, the sound filling the room, which was designed to enhance the music.

She straddled him, arms around his neck, and he grabbed her hips. She could tell he was expecting a repeat performance of their early morning grind together, but she had a much bigger production in mind.

“This how you plan on warming up?” he asked, his cock hard under her.

“Gonna do a lot more than warm up.”

She stood, quickly pulling her panties down and stepping out of them. He watched with wide eyes as she ran her hands over her full hips, swaying with her body’s own natural rhythm, playing out a siren’s dance.

“Oh, babygirl,” he groaned. “Your beauty… may just be the only thing that can rival your talent.”

She just smiled, letting a hand rub over her mound, fingers moving into her folds, feeling the heat radiating there. Falling to her knees, she let her fingers dance over his hard, muscular thighs, playing with his cock, bringing it fully life. He gripped the chair, watching her stroke him, her fingertips lingering over veins, circling the ridge of the head, rubbing over his damp opening.

When his eyes closed, head going back, she bent down to take him into her mouth, feeling his leg muscles tighten, his breath catch. She let her tongue flick at him as she took him inch by inch between her lips.

“Ohhhh Qesa,” he groaned as she worked him. “This is so wrong. You know, babygirl, we shouldn’t be doing this…”

“But your babygirl’s gonna be a star,” she murmured, eyes dancing as she looked up at him. “And everyone knows that superstars get whatever they want.”

“And what do you want, babygirl?” he asked, looking at her through half-closed eyes.

“You, Daddy,” she breathed. “I want you.”

Her mouth slid fluidly over him, up and down, making him moan and fist her dark hair.

When she released him, coming up to standing, she straddled him again, seating his erection between her wet folds. Rolling her hips over him, the head slipped into her easily, pushing at her pulsing hole.

“Oh, Daddy, this is just what I need,” she whispered. “I can feel the excitement building up in me like a tornado.”

“That’s my Qesa,” he panted. “Taking down everything that stands in her path.”

“Nothing stands in my way,” she agreed, licking her lips. “When I set my mind to something, you know I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Whatever it takes,” he moaned as she forced him inside of her, sitting fully in his lap, thigh to thigh, pushing him deep. He was so big and thick, her pulse increased immediately, her stomach fluttering with arousal.

She grabbed onto his shoulders, using them to stabilize herself as she began to fuck him, getting him hard and wet for the next round of her performance. Her wetness made sweet, squelching noises as she moved up and down on his cock for a while. Then she settled into a fast, rocking rhythm, feeling him rubbing deep inside.

“I heard you last night, Daddy,” she murmured, slowing her hips a little, teasing. “I heard you talking about my sweet, juicy ass…”

He moaned, shaking his head in denial, but it was no use.

“You like it, don’t you?” she whispered, leaning in closer to breath into his ear. “You want to fuck me there, don’t you, Daddy? You want to fuck my ass?”

“Oh God,” he cried as she squeezed her muscles tight around him. His hands went to her ass, squeezing, kneading her flesh. “Qesa, please.”

“Please what?” she teased, feeling him spreading her cheeks. “Please can I fuck your ass? Is that what you want to say?”

“Ahhhh, what are you saying?” he gasped.

“That I’m going to make all your dreams come true, Daddy.” She leaned back to look at him. “I’m an ass girl—always have been. I want you there.”

He stopped and looked at her, gaping, his emotions tightening his face, clouding his eyes.

“I want you to fuck me in my ass, Daddy,” she told him. “Remember, babygirl always gets what she wants.”

She rose up slowly, letting him slide out of her throbbing pussy. Her asshole puckered at the thought of his cock gaining entry and she had to breathe deep and remind herself to relax as she took his cock in her hand, rubbing it slowly between the round globes of her behind.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered. “You’re serious?”

“Yes, Daddy.” She nodded, feeling his spongy head pressing at her tiny, puckered hole. “Very serious.”

With that, she used her own weight as leverage, closing her eyes as the head of his cock eased slowly past that first, tight ring of muscle. She pushed through the initial pain toward that sweet pleasure rush, feeling the stretch and burn as he filled her more and more. Qesa clung to him, her chin on his shoulder, feeling his hands gripping her behind, hearing the way his breath caught as she squeezed him.

“Easy, easy,” he whispered, pulling her gently into the saddle of his hips.

Qesa reached for the remote behind him, turning on the camera, the music coming through, the song just starting. Behind them was a red velvet curtain, the perfect backdrop. Her stepfather barely noticed the music, or maybe he just didn’t care, his fingers digging deep into her hips.

Then she started singing.

Her stepfather smiled at the sound of her voice, each chorus taking her higher as she took him deeper and deeper. When he bit his lip and opened his mouth to moan, she sang even louder as she rocked on top of him. The motion was the perfect dance. Her pussy pulsed and dripped all over his belly, forcing her to really concentrate on the vocals, using her heavy breathing to her advantage.

Each time the chorus came around, she sang, her voice taking on more energy, pushing her higher and higher. Her body moved closer to the precipice and she worked to keep a tremble out of her voice. Rafe fucked her back hard, rolling her hips, forcing himself deep into her ass. It made her want to scream at the top of her voice. It was the perfect edge she needed.

And then he came.

She felt him holding his breath as he bucked up, filling her ass with loads of his cum, waves of it erupting up his shaft, seeding deep into her bowels. Qesa really wanted to scream now, because she was coming too, her climax ripping through her body, making her feel dizzy and faint. They came together, bodies moving in the most perfect harmony she’d ever experienced, and she utilized every ounce of her excitement. Emotion took her over completely as she cried out, “Si, Si, Si! Yes, Yes, Yes!” with every hot pulse of her climax.