TABOO:BATION — 50 SHADES OF FORBIDDEN SHORTS novel Chapter 17

ALWMSD: FUCK ON THE KITCHEN COUNTER 1

The sun was streaming into the kitchen, turning the white marble counters into bright sheets of light. I was standing at the stove in just pants and no shirt, the smell of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee filling the air. I looked like a normal man doing normal things. But in reality, this was my way of making myself feel less guilty after what I did yesterday.

But even as I flipped the eggs, I was anticipating something: the sound of Angel’s feet approaching the dining area.

Then I heard it. The soft, rhythmic pat–pat–pat of bare feet on the hardwood.

“Good morning, Daddy,” the sweet voice whispered from right behind my ear.

I turned my head slightly. Angel was standing there, dressed for school. She was wearing a tiny black pleated skirt that barely covered her thighs and a crisp white button–down shirt. Her hair was pulled back, but a few blonde strands fell over her face. She looked like the perfect student, but the look in her eyes was anything but academic.

She didn’t wait for me to answer. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around my waist, pressing

her chest firmly against my bare back.

“Good morning, baby,” I called back. “How was your night?” I asked the normal, regular question any father should ask. But the memories flooded my head, sending heat to my body. I knew exactly how her

night was.

“Thanks to you, Daddy,” she murmured into my shoulder. “I had the best dreams ever. I kept feeling you

everywhere.”

My heart did a somersault. “Angel, stop,” I said softly, though I didn’t push her away. “I’m making breakfast for the family. And… you don’t get to talk like that in public.”

“Sorry, Daddy, I thought since it’s just us.

I nodded, concentrating on the pan.

“Mmm, this smells good,” she said, her hands sliding down my bare stomach. 1

“What are you making?”

“Omelets and bacon,” I rasped.

“Where’s Mummy?” she asked, her voice getting lower.

I nodded toward the large glass window over the kitchen sink. “She’s in the yard. She’s been on a conference call for twenty minutes. She’s busy.”

Through the glass, I could see Elena. She was pacing near the rose bushes, her phone pressed to her ear, waving her hand as she talked. She was right there–maybe thirty feet away. If she turned her head at the right moment, she’d see us through the window.

Angel didn’t let go. In fact, her grip tightened. Her hands started to move, her palms grazing the fabric of my grey sweatpants. My breath hitched.

“What are you doing, Angel?” I asked.

“I was wondering…” she said, her fingers tracing the outline of my pockets. “Can we have another lesson today? Just a quick one?”

“Your mom is right there, Angel,” I reminded her, my voice cracking. “She could walk in for a coffee refill at any second. It’s too risky. We need to eat, and you need to get to school.” 1

“Oh… that’s true,” she said softly. But she didn’t move. Her hand lingered right at the base of my belly, her thumb dancing near the waistband of my pants. I could feel my body responding. The “tension” from yesterday hadn’t gone away; it had just been hiding. I was already getting hard, a thick, heavy pulse

“Daddy,” she called.

“Daddy, you’re tense too,” she whispered. “It seems like your dick wants it just as much as my pussy does.”

Fuck! She wasn’t wearing any panties. She reached a hand down between her legs, her fingers disappearing into the slit. She worked her fingers for a second, then pulled them out.

Damn.

They were glistening, soaked in a thick, clear, shiny liquid.

“See, Daddy?” she whispered, holding her hand up so the morning sun hit her wet fingers. “My pussy is leaking already. It’s crying for your dick. How can you say no to your student when she’s this prepared?”

That was it. The last thread of my control snapped. I didn’t care about the eggs. I didn’t care about the neighbors. I didn’t even care about Elena standing thirty feet away with her back turned. 2

I grabbed Angel by the waist and spun her around. I bent her over the cool marble counter, right in front of the window. Her hands slapped against the stone, her chest pressing down. In this position, we were looking directly out at Elena. I could see the back of my wife’s head. I could see her moving her lips as she talked into her phone. 1

“Let’s take a quick lesson, sweetie?” I growled. 1

I reached down and pushed her skirt all the way up to her waist. Her pale, rounded ass was perfectly framed by the morning light. I ran my hand over her skin, feeling the goosebumps rise. So smooth. I reached between her legs, my fingers finding the soaking wet slit I had tasted just hours before. I ran one finger slowly down the length of her, from the top of her bud down to her opening.

“Ohhh…” Angel let out a soft, long moan, her head falling forward.

“Shh,” I warned, leaning over her so my chest was pressed against her back. “Watch your mother, Angel. Watch her while I do this to you. See how close she is? This is what happens when you want a lesson so bad.”

I slid my finger inside her, feeling the heat and the tightness. She was so ready, so slick. I could feel her pulsing around my finger, her body already begging for the real deal. I looked out the window, watching Elena laugh at something on the phone while I stood there, one finger deep inside her daughter, right in the middle of our family kitchen. The danger made every touch feel like a lightning strike.

“Daddy… please,” she whimpered, her hips bucking back against my hand. “Please… put it in now. I need this lesson badly.”