TABOO TALES(erotica)

Andre shook his head, his thoughts derailed by the sight of her white teeth trapping her plump lower lip. His mouth worked to reply to her compliment, but he’d lost the ability to speak. His trapped erection was painfully straining against his shorts, and he didn’t dare let her think he was being a creep.Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

He jumped up from the couch, pulling away from the delicious feel of her body. “I–I need to use the bathroom.”

He saw her eyes lock on the ridge pressed against his shorts, then he fled to the only room he could go to with a door to put between them. Between her soft touch, her closeness, and her biting her lip, his libido had gotten away from him.

He had to get relief.

-=-

What was wrong with her?

Cassandra watched Andre rush away and almost called out to him to apologize. He made her a wonderful meal, cleaned up after her, and she rewarded him by teasing him unmercifully? After what he’d been through? What kind of monster was she?

She turned the TV off as it’d lost its appeal. Standing alone in the living room, she looked back at the sofa, wondering if she should open it up into its bed form. She might pick up his masculine scent from the sheets.

Cassandra froze as she contemplated lying on the bed. She was out of control!

Instead, she stiffly walked out of the room and down the hall, pausing outside the bathroom door. She moved closer.

“A-are you okay?” she asked softly.

She heard an odd grunt, then he spoke, his voice tight. “Yes.”

“I’m going to bed. Thank you for dinner.”

“Mmm-hmm,” was his response.

She pulled back, guilt coursing through her. She opened her bedroom door and slipped inside, closing it behind her. Her mind flashed to the image of Andre’s erection pressing against his shorts again.

She needed relief. Maybe once she’d appeased that need, she’d get her rational mind back.

She pulled the rubber cock from her drawer with the small tube of lube and sat back on the bed. She pushed her yoga pants down, freeing her big ass from them and sliding them down her legs. She needed to be naked, so the shirt and tank came off next. She recalled Andre’s powerful hands on her as they’d been when he’d protected her in her doorway today. She imagined them undressing her.

Cassandra shook her head violently. Fuck, she was getting too excited!

Laying back on the bed, she grabbed the dildo and lube but realized she was already very wet, so she rubbed the thick head of the rubber cock against her opening and felt it dip inside. Her mind recalled the tent in Andre’s shorts this morning, and she shoved the dildo deeper. She gasped at the feel of it forcing her walls open as it sank deeper inside.

Touching her clit, she jolted from how sensitive she was. It wouldn’t take her long.

She began thrusting the fat fake cock into her as she rubbed her clit in circles, and her body arched–so fucking good! Andre’s dark eyes watching her intensely flashed into her mind, and that was it. She pulled a pillow over her face as she screamed her release into it.

Wave after wave coursed through her body as she held that image in her memory.

When it finally slowed, and the pulses eased, she felt completely wrung out and deliciously tingly. Fuck! That was a big one!

She tried to keep the pleasure front and center for as long as she could, but the crushing guilt would not be denied its turn.

Why did she only achieve such bliss from something she knew was so fucking wrong!

-=-

Andre slowly cleaned himself up after the eruption he’d experienced when Cassandra spoke softly to him through the door as he stroked his cock toward his release. Her voice had caught him by surprise and triggered a colossal orgasm. He’d barely been able to answer her, and he was sure she knew what he was doing. That’d sent another surge through him, but he’d contained his moans.

When he heard her bedroom door close, he opened his eyes and saw he’d made a mess of the bathroom wall. Shit! That was more powerful than usual.

After he cleaned himself, he cleaned the wall and floor and ensured both were spotless once more.

He scowled at the man in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. Why couldn’t he be a normal brother for a sister who was so wonderful! She’d rescued him, given him a roof over his head, and paid for the food on his plate. This was how he repaid her.

She’d asked him why he didn’t have a girlfriend, and he couldn’t tell her how none of them compared to her. Most of them were obsessed with being skinny and maintaining their position in the school’s social ranking order. None of them attracted him as Cassandra did. None of them had the wit to carry a conversation. He knew Cassandra had a brilliant mind. He could sense her frustration with her job, and he was so proud of her attending college to get the certifications required for more challenging and lucrative work. He had to support her efforts, ease away all the distractions preventing her from reaching her goals. He could do this.

He just had to keep his need for her under control.

Principal Harry Wallace sat at his breakfast table and stared in dismay at the photo on his cell phone. It’d come in sometime late last night, mailed from an account for a student he knew had died in a tragic car accident months ago. He’d contacted a few teachers this morning and got replies they’d also received the image from the school’s email system.

The photo had obviously been taken in the school’s shower room, as he could see the school colors on the wall behind the young man. He also noted the picture had been scrubbed of its information tags, so he had no clue as to its source other than the dead account the message had come from. He sent a note to Jerry Garlin to ask him who might have been present when the image was taken, assuming it was taken recently. He believed it was, as that matched the instant gratification nature of today’s youth.

The Gym Teacher’s response returned, saying he’d investigate.

Harry sighed. This was a public relations nightmare! The school district commissioner was going to find out about this, and heads might roll. He needed to be proactive and do everything right. He’d have to call in the techs to find out how an account that should have been removed was used to flood the school’s mailboxes with this illicit image. Maybe they could remove the message from every mail account!

He sent a request for a meeting with the entire tech team in his office at nine AM.

He needed to know who the student in the photo was as well. A message to Mrs. Whitmore should resolve that, as she had an uncanny ability to match student faces to names. She’d been working in the office for over thirty years.

With a worried sigh, he rushed through his morning routine and headed off to school.

His head would not be the one rolling for this.

-=-

The school was buzzing with the story of the nude photo in everyone’s inbox. From the students to the faculty, the illicit image had been mailed to them. The students who’d initially refused to set up their school-based accounts scrambled to do so. Some were too late, as the school’s tech team sent a purge through the network to remove this message from the inactive account. The students who had received it now found the email was gone.

Not to be denied, the sharper students had already copied the attachment and spread it beyond the bounds of the school’s network. It popped up on popular social media sites, links were shared back into the student accounts, and soon its exposure grew exponentially, expanding far beyond the school population.

Andre was one of the students who paid little attention to the school’s digital services and never reviewed the emails they sent out. He also had no interest in social media, so he had no accounts there to receive anything.

When he arrived at school that morning, he was hidden within his usual hoodie and baggy jeans. Earbuds in his ears, Winterfylleth’s album, The Threnody of Triumph, playing to drown out the noise of his thoughts, he spared little attention to the school’s other occupants.

His garb made most overlook him, but he was sensing a difference. Eyes were following him. Just a few at first, but enough to make him notice. He didn’t know why they were looking at him. He thought he witnessed hate, disgust, curiosity, and even lust, but without context, he was lost.

Andre went to his locker and grabbed his books for his first class. As he made his way there, he picked up the impression that more eyes were aimed at him, and his nerves buzzed.

He took his seat as the other students filed into the class. Their general noise level was higher than usual, and he paused his music to take in the chatter to pick up some clues about what they were so excited about.

“I can’t believe that’s him!” “Who took it?” “What a creep!” “So fucking hot!” “Why does he hide himself?” “It had to be Fisher!” “Why is he here today?”

Brigette Harrison, sitting to his left, leaned closer with a little smile on her lips and his eyes locked on hers. She seemed to be reading his face. “You don’t know what’s going on, do you?”

He frowned and shook his head slightly.

“Mr. Marin!”

Everyone quieted down and looked to the doorway where their teacher, Mrs. Phillips, and one of the main office workers stood.

“Come with us. The rest of you settle down,” the teacher barked sharply. Then she looked at Andre, who was standing. “Bring your books.”