Little Brats Jenna: Forbidden Taboo Erotica (3 page)

“No one knows you like I do.” Keith began to withdraw his cock, looking down at Jeanie with a half-smile on his face. “Do they, baby?”

“Mmmppphh.” Jeanie’s eyes watered as she looked up at him, and there was such adoration in her eyes, Jenna was shocked by it.

“Tell me.” He withdrew completely from her mouth, his cock wet and glistening with her saliva.

“No one else,” Jeanie gasped, drool sliding down her chin. “No one knows me like you. No one.”

“Damn right.” He grabbed his cock and smacked her with it again, first one cheek, then the other. “If you hadn’t gotten us caught, we’d have his whole company right now. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she whispered, wincing as he smacked her face again with his cock, his hand fisted hard in her hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“You almost fucked the whole thing up.” Smack. Smack. “And I’m going to continue to punish you for that.”

“I deserve it.” Jeanie sniffed, her lower lip trembling. She had her hands behind her back, Jenna noticed, although her wrists weren’t bound. “I’m yours, Keith. Use me.”

“I intend to.” He yanked her hair back and Jeanie yelped as her ex-husband leaned down to look directly into her eyes. “You are mine. You will always belong to me.”

“Yes.” She nodded, although her movement was restricted by the grip he had on her hair. “Always. Always.”

“I’m not going to fuck you.” His eyes glittered as he spoke. “Not until you start looking more like a human being instead of a cow. Do you understand me?”

Jeanie nodded again, but no words came out.

“Until then, I’m only going to use your mouth.” He ran his thumb over her lips. “I won’t fuck that wet pussy you’ve got for me until I can see a gap between those fat thighs.”

Jeanie whimpered, but again agreed with a slight nod.

“You’re not to touch yourself. You’re not to make yourself come. You understand me?”

Another half-nod. Jenna felt sick, watching this exchange. She couldn’t believe this man was her father. He’d always been an angry man, and she’d often wondered why her mother put up with his temper, but she was beginning to understand.

“And if you don’t get your body back, Jeanie.” Keith snarled at her. “I’m going to take every bit of that cash—it’s all in my name, sweetheart—and I’ll leave you. Alone. You don’t want that, do you?”

“Nooo.” Jenna’s mother howled. “I’ll be good. I promise. I’ll do everything you ask. I won’t mess up again.”

“Good.” He gave a satisfied nod, moving both hands in her hair before shoving himself deep into her throat. Jenna winced at the motion, how rough he was, but Jeanie moaned, squirming on the floor in front of him, hands twisted behind her back.

“I’m going to use that fucking mouth.” Keith thrust, shoving his cock deep into her throat, making Jeanie gag on his length. “Take it, you fat whore! Choke on my dick!”

Jenna cringed, but Jeanie actually moaned as her ex-husband fucked her throat, so fast and hard Jenna wondered how the woman could possibly breathe. She knew she should go, but the sight of it fascinated and sickened her at the same time, her father fucking her mother’s mouth like that, her mother completely submissive, letting him use her.

“Ahhhh yeah!” Keith cried out, shoving the woman’s head down to the base of his cock. “Take it! Swallow my fucking cum! Don’t you spit it out! Swallow it! Swallow it all!”

Jeanie choked and gagged, but her throat worked as she swallowed her ex-husband’s load, tears streaming down her face. Jenna gagged herself, involuntarily, and covered her mouth to keep in the noise.

While Keith withdrew, quickly zipping his pants and buckling his belt, Jeanie didn’t move. She stayed on her knees, her face wet with saliva and tears as she looked up at him.

“My little cock whore.” He tilted her chin up, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

With that, he was gone, out of the bedroom. Jenna waited to hear his footfalls on the stairs before creeping back to her own room. She sat on her bed, trying to make sense of everything she’d witnessed. The last shred of what she thought she knew about her mother and father had crumbled before her eyes.

They planned it.

It seemed impossible, but the proof had presented itself before her very own eyes. It hadn’t just been her mother stealing money from Jenna’s stepfather. This was something else altogether. Everything, from the beginning, had been a lie. Jeanie’s divorce from Keith, her subsequent quick marriage to Scott. This was nothing but another one of Jenna’s father’s get-rich-quick schemes.

And it had worked.

Well, almost.

They were still planning on getting control of Scott’s company, when he got out of jail. How much longer would that be? Jenna wondered. How much time did she have?

* * * *

That night in her room, she took out the stationary she’d stopped to buy, and began to write a letter to her stepfather. She had only the vaguest idea of a plan, but the poor man needed something, someone. It was the least she could do. She started out writing as herself, telling him how much she missed him, wondering if she should tell him what she’d overheard. But what good would it do? She didn’t have any proof.

She took out the first letter she’d read, the one that had turned her on so much she was forced to touch herself, reading his words over and over. Just looking at the paper made her wet now, Pavlovian. She’d climaxed so much to that letter, she was surprised the words hadn’t been worn away.

Her mother had married him, but she didn’t love him. She’d never loved him, never wanted him.

But Jenna did. She wanted him so much it was hard to breathe, hard to even admit.

She tossed aside the letter she’d begun, grabbing a fresh sheet of paper, and wrote:

Dear Scott,

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know I haven’t written, but I felt so awful, so guilty for what happened. I know what I did was wrong. Your self-sacrifice has made it even harder for me, knowing you’re in there, and I’m out here, while you did nothing wrong.

Yes, I do miss you. I miss you so much it hurts. I’ve been so distraught, so afraid. I don’t know what to do with myself, without you. I know I’ve broken your heart and that breaks mine. I know there are no excuses for what I did. I can only say I’m sorry. That you have forgiven me, that you took the fall when I didn’t even ask it of you—I am so grateful.

I know I don’t deserve a man like you.

Love, Jeanie

She couldn’t find anything else to say in this first letter, but the man deserved an apology, even if it was a fake one. Hell, in her mind, the man deserved a medal. She longed to tell him what she knew. What she really wanted was to tell him how she felt. But she knew he would never allow anything between them. He still believed Jeanie loved him, had loved him all along. He was pining for a woman who had tricked him into marriage so she could steal his money. It made Jenna sick.

Those last words she’d written in the letter were true. Jenna’s mother didn’t deserve a man like Scott. Jeanie and Keith deserved each other.

And Scott deserved so much more.

She put the letter in an envelope, addressing it and peeling off a stamp to affix in the corner. Satisfied, she slipped it into her purse. She’d mail it on her way to class tomorrow.

Jenna crawled into bed, sliding her hand into her pillowcase to find the letters. She flipped through, finding her favorite, that first letter, when her stepfather had written about his longing, his passion, his desire for his wife. She could almost imagine it was her he wanted. If he only knew…

She skimmed the letter, his words swimming, imagining it was his fingers sliding under the elastic of her panties, circling her throbbing clit. He would touch her with such tenderness, take her with such rough passion. Not like that scene she’d watched play out between her parents. She shuddered when that image recurred, pushing it away.

No, Scott would grab her, take her, but he wouldn’t humiliate or hurt her. She knew him, far better than he probably ever realized, when they were living under the same roof. She’d watched him come into the house all sweaty after work, stripping off his shirt on the way up the stairs to the shower, unaware anyone was watching. She had seen him stroking his cock on his bed while she hid in the adjoining bathroom. She had heard him cry out and shoot his cum so far it splashed the hard planes of his chest.

She could picture it all, every movement, every grunt and growl. Her fingers slid into her wetness as she played this fantasy out in her head, knowing it would never come true, but enjoying it anyway. She longed for him, to feel his hands cupping her breasts, rubbing her between her legs, even teasing her ass, making her yelp and squirm. She wanted his mouth on hers, sucking her nipples, licking at her aching clit.

And she wanted his cock. Oh, that beautiful cock. She’d wanted it a long time, but she’d been too afraid to think of it, too afraid to admit it. But she wanted him in her mouth. She wanted his cum burning her throat. She wanted him to drive into her, pounding her virgin pussy until she screamed and came all over his cock.

“Oh Daddy, fuck me,” Jenna whispered, fingering herself, knowing it wasn’t nearly enough. He would stretch her much wider than this. He would fill her completely. “Fuck me hard! Pound your little girl’s pussy! Pump that cock in me! Do it, Daddy!”

She licked her lips, head thrown back, her clit pulsing with pleasure. So close now. So very close.

“I want you to come all over me,” she murmured, imagining him between her legs, jamming his cock so far into her, the way she did with the dildo hidden in her drawer, so hard it hurt. “Give me that cock, Daddy. Let me make you come.”

It was that image that sent her over—Scott rearing back, yanking his cock out of her wet hole and presenting it, slick and hard, over her belly. Jenna grabbed and tugged it in her little hand, imagining that first explosion of cum burning across her belly as she began to climax. The contractions forced her pussy to snap closed around her plunging fingers and she cried out, imagining the second stream of his white, hot sticky cum shooting so far it made it to her open mouth, giving her a taste, before he showered her breasts with more of the stuff.

“Oh God, oh, Daddy, oh yes, yes, yes.” She shivered, her muscles tight, but starting to relax, even as the tiny pulses of pleasure continued. “I want you. I love you. Please.”

She turned her hot face to bury it in her pillow, thinking about the letter in her purse. Was she really going to do this?

Her pussy spasmed again, as if giving her an answer.

Yes, she was going to do this.

And next time, it wouldn’t just be a letter of apology. Next time, she’d find the courage to write a sex-filled masterpiece.

* * * *

Her legs trembled and she was afraid she might actually collapse as the female guard searched her, the woman’s fingers patting down over her breasts and then hard between her thighs, before moving over her ass.

Was she really doing this?

She was. She was about to see him again. Except she wasn’t Jenna, she was Jeanie, at least according to the driver’s license she presented when she arrived.

“You cut your hair.” The woman guard noted when she glanced at it.

“Yes,” Jenna had agreed, hoping she wasn’t going to get busted.

But it was all going as they’d planned. Without a hitch so far.

She couldn’t have done it on her own. She had enlisted the help of a more deviant mind than hers, the man who cooked at the diner where she waitressed. She’d concocted a different story for him, of course, as to why she had to see her stepfather, posing as her mother. Something about righting a wrong—which wasn’t really that far off—and the man had agreed to help her.

She probably wouldn’t have dared it, if their correspondence hadn’t increased to a fever pitch. She’d become a slave to the mailman, intercepting letters from the prison so her mother wouldn’t find them. Jeanie and Keith were seeing each other more openly now. Her mother had actually expected Jenna to be happy about it. That was a laugh.

But as long as Jeanie was distracted, Jenna could keep writing to Scott without incident or interruption. And she had. They had exchanged sexual fantasies again and again, increasing their output at a fever pitch. Jenna pleasured herself every night, often multiple times, reading his words to her. And they were to her, now, she was sure of it. Yes, he thought he was writing to his wife, but he kept saying how changed she was, how different, and of course, that was true.

Because he was communicating with his stepdaughter, not his wife.

The deception was hard to maintain, but she had a plan. It was finally coming together. 

She had filled out all the proper forms, the background check was completed, and she’d practiced her mother’s signature again and again. They made their “J’s” exactly the same. Now it was time for Scott MacKenzie to have a conjugal visit with his “wife.”

Jenna had thoroughly researched conjugal visits. She was surprised to find internet chat rooms about the subject, but now she knew that many female visitors were afraid of being watched during sex in the apartment used for conjugal visits that was housed within the walls of the prison. She learned that many female visitors requested the lights be off completely in the room, so no pervert guard could watch.

It was perfect. The room would be dark, and Scott wouldn’t know until it was too late that he was having sex with his stepdaughter, not his wife. And Jenna had six hours alone with him—even if she had to pretend to be her mother,

“Well,” the woman guard, looking down her nose at Jenna, made her feel like a common criminal herself. Her heart was beating fifty miles an hour and she felt the guilt like a weight on her chest. “Here we are.”

They stopped at an unmarked door. Jenna felt her knees wanting to give out again.

“The room is dark, as requested,” the female guard gave her a knowing look. “He’s waiting inside. Soap, condoms and lube are on the night stand. You look scared, Mrs. MacKenzie. First time?”

“Yes. My first time,” Jenna replied truthfully, although she meant it in more ways than one.