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Wet For Him

(Taboo Forbidden Erotica)


Sugar Kane


Copyright Sugar Kaze

All rights reserved.

Wet For Him

Book Design by Sugar Kaze

Cover Image Copyright 2017 © Wisky - Fotolia.com,

used under a Standard Attribution License.

***All characters are over 18 and fictional.*** 

I always listen to my parents. Mommy and my step-father always take care of me and make sure that I’m safe. Mommy married my step-father a few years ago, so I’ve called him Daddy ever since. I’m twenty now and all grown up, but I still respect my elders and obey them.


Daddy always tells me that boys want one thing and one thing only. . . THAT thing. I’ve never let a boy touch me. Sometimes, I’ll see a good looking boy at school or on TV and I’ll start to feel warm and achy between my legs. I know it’s wrong and dirty, but sometimes I’ll touch myself there. I’ll put my fingers inside my underwear and everything is so slippery and wet.


I know what the different parts down there are. They made us take a class in school, so I know that I’m turned on by looking at the handsome man and that makes my vagina wet. I know it’s naughty and that my family would say it was sinful to be having nasty thoughts about a man touching me there, but I can’t help myself. Sometimes, I just close my eyes and slip my fingers inside and it feels so good.


One time I snuck one of those fashion magazines into the house. Daddy doesn’t like them because he says they have filthy articles in them about loose women doing bad things. I read an article in that magazine about “The Best Orgasms of your LIFE!” They talked about orgasms feeling like an explosion. I’ve never felt an explosion like that when I touched myself, but I want to. I just don’t want Daddy to catch me.


We aren't allowed to have locks on our doors because Daddy says too much privacy is an invitation to doing dirty things behind closed doors. Usually I wait until late at night when everyone is asleep because of that, but today I saw Daddy working in the yard and he had his shirt off. He was sweaty and he has big muscles, much bigger than the boys I see on TV do.


That warm feeling came over me, and I started to get wet between my legs. I tried to ignore it but nothing worked. All I could think about was Daddy’s strong hands and how much I wanted him to put those hands between my legs. I clenched my thighs together and tried to think about anything else – math class, old people, anything that would stop these dirty thoughts from filling my mind but my mind just kept thinking about the Daddy’s hands and his big, thick fingers and how they might fit inside me.


Finally, it was too much and I slipped away to my bedroom. I shut my door and sat down on my bed, unzipping my jeans enough to slip my hand inside. My fingers brushed the edge of my lips, and they were so wet. My underwear was absolutely soaked, and I wondered if maybe I might really be able to have an orgasm this time. I felt like a live wire was humming between my legs, and I just wanted to close my eyes and imagine Daddy was touching me there.


I laid back on the bed, my fingers stroking my slick flesh. I couldn’t move my hand very much inside my pants, but it was enough to send sparks exploding behind my eyes. I opened my legs a bit wider and tied to angle my hand enough that I could slip a finger inside. My first finger hand just breached my opening when I heard the door open.


I sat up quickly and snapped my legs shut, trying to yank my hand out of my pants without Daddy seeing. No such luck.


“Eva, you left your family to come up here and do this shameful thing to yourself?” Daddy asked sternly. He hadn’t put a shirt on yet, and he was standing right above my bed, so close that I could smell the sharp, male musk of him.


“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I said, my face flushed red with embarrassment at what he had seen.


“Since this was so important, I think you should finish what you were doing.”


“What?” I said, shock filling my voice even as that place between my legs seemed to grow impossibly wetter at the thought.


“I want you to keep on doing what you were doing when I walked in. And you’re not going to stop until I tell you to, baby,” he repeated.


Still blushing, I nodded, “Okay Daddy.”


I pushed my hand down the front of my pants again, watching Daddy’s face as he stared at where my hand disappeared into the denim. My fingers brushed against my sensitive flesh and I shuddered.


“I think you should take your jeans off, baby,” Daddy said, sitting down on the edge of my bed. “No point in doing things halfway.”


Shyly, I pushed down my jeans and pulled them off, leaving me just wearing a pale pink t-shirt and my sensible white panties. I laid back down on my bed, settling myself on my pillow and opening my legs so that Daddy could watch.

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