Taboo: Night At The Erotic Museum (Step Dinosaur Foursome) Read online

  Shaznay's cries filled the dusty museum air. The Dinosaur's musky aroma wafted along, tingling my nose, a half-pleasant half-filthy scent that discreetly aroused me, as I felt my knickers dampening.

  No doubt about it, there was an acute thirst coming from between my legs that spread through me like a common flu, and my hands slowly started to rub over my own body. I realized I was not alone, for my sister was doing the same. She had traced her hand down into her knickers and was playing with herself, flicking her clit as if to make sure it was still there.

  We observed, in a stimulated daze, as the T-Rex removed his digit from Shaznay's ass. As if we were psychically connected, me and my sister calmly removed our jeans and panties, and got on all fours either side of Shaznay, offering ourselves to our magnificent captor. And there we were, all three of us in a row, our asses presented, ready and willing. From behind me I heard a mighty roar—the Dinosaur liked what he saw, the reflection of his prehistoric phallus swaying on the glass of the cabinet before us.

  I felt a huge finger at my wet and ready pussy, and as I glanced to my right I saw that he was doing the same to Larissa. His mammoth digit felt bigger than any man's penis—certainly bigger than any I had taken—and I relaxed as I let it slip inside. Luckily he had filed his nails on the particular fingers he was using, or that could have proved fatal, and as me and my sister pounded our hips back he slid deeper. He proceeded to finger-bang us with a sense of urgency, spearing us with purpose.

  He lowered his head again and outstretched his tongue, this time aiming it towards Shaznay's pussy. As he finger fucked me and my sister, he probed his tongue into the security guard's snatch, and there we were—a trio of jiggling tushie.

  This ancient animal poked and filled and lapped his way inside our orifices. Shaznay still showed no sign of hesitation, and was taking pleasure in every second, truly enjoying the way this thick tongue was filling her up. None of us had ever been licked or fingered like this before, the feel of primitive fingers and tongue, hot breath on our thighs and butts. There was discomfort, but there was more delight. My eyes dilated, my moans hastened and my mind expanded. Dunes of joyfulness filled me, as my clenched fists beat the floor.

  Pounding back and forth, all three of us squirmed and squawked, faster and louder. We wound and ground, twisted and turned until we couldn't take it anymore and simultaneously we craned our necks and shrieked up to the ceiling. As the T-Rex's amazing tongue lapped at her clit one last time Shaznay came, crying out with a glorious level of intensity.

  Mine and my sister's climaxes would follow shortly after, squirting around our respective wide digits and drenching the Dinosaur's hands.

  All three of us ladies turned around and kneeled before the mighty T-Rex. It seemed we all had the same thing in mind, and so did the Dinosaur. My eyes widened and my heart beat faster. He was masturbating his tremendous cock and aiming at straight at us.

  I still couldn’t believe the size of it. My mind flashed back to my ex’s penis, and as I mentally compared them, there was positively no comparison. The Dinosaur's big green serpent stood to attention as he gripped it securely, rubbing his pre-cum into the rippling flesh of his shaft. It looked like a wild beast, ominous, his balls swinging between his legs. He commenced to pick up pace and jacked his pole ferociously, as if he hadn’t cum in weeks, keen to reach his imminent climax.

  Almost without thinking, I let out a big exhale of breath. The dinosaur turned his head abruptly, locking his big brown eyes with mine.

  He worked his dick and roared, a raucous noise of exultation and gratification. His cock twitched and jerked, and fountains of Dino-spooge travelled through the air like streamers thrown at a summer fair, blasting into my face and into my awaiting mouth. I gulped hard and fast, as the Dino emptied his balls all over me. I was drenched.

  Larissa lay on her back and opened her mouth. I leaned over my sister and spat a mouthful of spunk into her throat. She sat up and gargled as Shaznay lay on her back and opened her mouth. Larissa leaned over Shaznay and spat the gobful of jizz into her throat. Shaznay sat up and gargled, as I lay on my back and opened my mouth. Shaznay leaned over me and spat it back into my throat. I sat up, smiled sweetly, winked at the dinosaur and took one final massive gulp, before wiping my lips clean with the back of hand.

  We felt proud of ourselves. We had triumphed in making this beautiful prehistoric creature burst, in befriending the outrageous beast and fulfilling his inbuilt cardinal craving. I felt the tasty, gooey seed warm in my tummy. There was a yummy thick relish to it and a practically yoghurt-like quality to it that meant I could've stomached more. But the Dino was drained.

  The T-Rex glanced around with a ferocious massive smile, displaying extraordinary giant pearly-whites and a laid back expression on his face. He emitted a low volume roar, as if to say thanks, before strolling off into the dark depths of the museum.

  I heard a sigh from beside me. Shaznay looked embarrassed. “What the... did that actually just happen?”

  I paused prior to responding. “Did that actually just happen as in ‘I don’t believe that was a real T-Rex’, or ‘Am I dreaming’?”

  “No.” She shifted her eyes from left to right and suddenly started to look very uncomfortable. Her voice grew soft. “I mean... did you guys honestly just get in on that with me?”

  I gazed at the cracked flooring from where the beast had stomped about before he shot his load. “You mean... you two have a thing going?”

  Larissa laughed. “Wow. Just wow.”

  Shaznay's cheeks looked flushed as she shrugged her shoulders and offered a knowing smirk. Her shame seemed like it ran to her bones. “I... I can’t summarize it. I'm qualified to be an accountant. It's complicated...” She paused for a moment. “But it's so wrong, it's right.”

  I shook my head. “Jesus. No wonder you wanted the night shift.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Bonus Stories …

  By

  Daisy N. Chains

  I unzipped the large tent and crawled out into the evening air. It was pretty much dusk, and a gorgeous dark blue light filled the clearing in the forest. Peter lay on top of his sleeping bag near the dying fire, still immersed in sleep. I looked around and took in my surroundings, everything looking slightly different now night was on its way. The only other tent belonged to my mother, who was cuddling and bottle-feeding my young baby. I sure needed a break from looking after my youngster, and greatly appreciated my mom's keenness to take care of her, while I caught up with my own thoughts. I needed my own space from time to time, that was for sure. Peter was planning to share my mom's tent—they were married after all.

  I inhaled deeply. God, it felt good to be out here. If I'm being honest, I had actually wanted a hotel room in the nearby town, but Peter had insisted on outdoor camping right here in the forest. Up until now, the most remarkable thing in the location had been the fire pit we had built upon arrival. I looked at Peter's head, lying so close to the glowing remnants of the fire. So close, and yet so far. Man, he was a jerk sometimes. Well, most of the time.

  When my mom had started dating him, I thought Peter was a pleasant enough guy. The same age as my mom, and not someone I'd typically talk to, or meet in day to day life, but it seemed as though he made her happy. And whatever made her happy, made me happy. At first. The persistent reminders from Peter and my mom that I should refer to him as 'Dad', even though he'd only been around for a couple of years was, quite frankly, asking a bit much of me. Peter could be unbelievably rude at times. Yes, my weight had increased a little since childbirth, but surely that was acceptable—it comes with the territory. It's not as though some middle aged man who happened to have married into my family had any right to even mention my weight. And it wasn't as though I was even fat anyway. Of course, his belly was to be ignored. ‘Podgy’, he’d called my bottom last weekend. I'd almost pimp-slapped him then, but I let it slide. I was genuinely proud of myself for not making a scene about it. The insult had offended m
e a little, and there was no way I'd forget about it. When we returned to the city, I'd have it out with him.

  In regards to my appearance, let's get things into perspective. I'm 20 years old, and getting pregnant was never my intention. I am a part time model with considerable curvature and a tanned complexion. My boobs are like two sun-kissed spheres, that jiggle like jelly when strapless and jut out confidently when crammed into one of my tight tops. My legs are slender, and my abdomen firm. I have absolutely no problem getting attention from the opposite sex—hence that one unprotected night which resulted in the baby my mom was now nursing.

  The sun was setting, and Peter eventually stirred from his kip and glanced up at me. I frowned at him from the other side of the fire pit, where the stump-log was still smoldering with dim reddish embers deep in its centre. “Hey Charlotte,” he said, before yawning loudly. I grimaced. But as I looked at his perfect white teeth I couldn't help admitting to myself that he actually looked quite handsome where he lay, the fire's subtle light illuminating his chiseled features.

  “Hey Daddy.” I rolled my eyes.

  Peter acted distressed and baffled. “You upset or something?”

  I crossed my arms as I looked down at him, trying my best to have an expressionless face. “Are you being serious?”

  “Sweetie, don’t be like that. This is about the weight thing, isn't it? You know you’ve put on a couple of pounds. But just on your ass. I was just saying it out loud. I actually meant it as a compliment. You’re truly being ludicrous.”

  I was so pissed I was starting to lose the capability to form rational thoughts. Maybe it was Peter's fault. Or maybe it was the fact that I hadn't gotten laid in a while. Being a single mom sure had its downside. But before I said anything horrible, or a whole lot worse, I kicked a small pebble in the general direction of the fire, crossed my arms and briskly stormed off into the woods. “Charlie! Really? Come on. Come back here and talk to Daddy about this.” He no doubt watched my fat ass as I vanished into the gloomy treeline.

  "Catch you later... Dad," I whispered to myself as I walked on into the blackness.

  I strolled off the path and wandered uphill, the boggy greenish grass under my shoes squelching as I fearlessly treaded forward, still mad but also still totally appreciating the recently-lost load from my stomach that I'd been lugging around for the past nine months. The forest was far denser around here. The trees seemed much taller, almost threatening.

  My annoyance died down just before I discovered I was truly lost. I turned around, at long last not concentrating wholly on Peter, and came to the realization I had no idea where the heck I was. I acknowledged I couldn’t be too far, simply because I hadn't been walking for that long. I stopped and looked up, but the leaves and branches were too dense to see the stars. The forest was pitch black, so I stood silently and tried to listen to the sounds around me. I heard chirps, the soft rustle of wildlife, and a softly babbling brook. I loved the outdoors, usually, but at this moment in time I was wishing I was in a nice comfy hotel room. I knew camping wasn't going to be the best idea. I tried to hear voices, anything human, hoping maybe that my mom and Peter were chatting and I was still in earshot of them. It would help to fend off real dread. I held my breath and listened.

  No voices. And I could no longer hear the twittering birds, and the sound of the babbling brook was so soft that I practically couldn’t hear it at all—I couldn't even determine which direction it was coming from.

  I halted dead in my tracks, and my cardiovascular system felt like it hopped up into my throat, as I listened to a very strange, deep sound. There was no way a man could have made the noise. For some reason an image of a bull flashed though my mind. I tried to calm my nerves, and told myself that it if it was a wild boar, or cow, or something, then it was probably miles away, and probably completely harmless. Absolutely nothing to worry about.

  I heard it again. The growl went on for several seconds longer than the last time. My ears pricked up and my hearing tingled as I thought about what really made that sound. My legs started to shake. I decided to turn around and walk in the other direction. But walking in the other direction may not have been the smartest move, because I had no idea whether that was the way back to camp or not. I was well and truly fricking lost. I was searching for the path from which I had come, but the further I walked, the more lost I felt. This really was now a test not to panic, not scream, not run like a scared child. I'm a young woman, for Christ's sake. I could handle this. I was determined to keep my head and I'd get there. Eventually.

  The growl sounded once more, but now it was a great deal nearer, as if it was coming from right behind me. I turned around suddenly in an effort to try to see what made the noise, but there was absolutely nothing there, just the deep, dense woodland.

  I felt a giant hand over her mouth area from behind, taking hold of me firmly. I yelled into the rugged palm, my muffled scream silenced. Another arm held my hips, its large muscles controlling me firmly and forcefully.

  Now absolutely Panic-stricken, I was about to attempt another shriek, but my visual world shifted. The blackness of the forest turned to white, and I passed out where I stood.

  I dreamt that I was lying on a soft, white cloud, floating high up in the sky. The softness of the cloud felt like silky pillows, comforting me. It felt so relaxing and peaceful. It felt so real. I didn't want this dream to ever end. However, a terrible feeling washed over me, as I came to the realization of what my true predicament was. My arms felt very heavy, awkward, and I detected a metallic rattling, as I opened my eyes.

  I was in a dim, drab room, like some sort of cave, chained to the wall, my arms outstretched and bound, my legs free. Looking around at my surroundings, I saw in the dancing candlelight that I was not alone. I was thankful for the fact that there was a man chained to the wall to the right of me. And even though it wasn't my favorite person in the world, I was deeply grateful that he was here too. It was Peter. My so-called 'Daddy'. He was chained in a similar fashion to me, although his eyes were closed, unconscious, his strong body hanging limp like a puppet on a string.

  "Hey," I said, in a half-whisper, half-authoritative tone, twisting my neck as far to my right as I could, so I could say the words right into his left ear. "Peter. Pete. Dad! Wake the fuck up."

  Nothing. He didn't even stir. He was out cold.

  A sinister presence was cast dramatically into the claustrophobic cave-room. I yanked against the sturdy chains, but they were fastened securely. They weren't budging.

  “Sweet Mary. Mother of God,” I mouthed silently, my eyes as wide as a raver on 3 ecstasy tablets.

  Dear readers, I wouldn't lie to you. This is what happened on that dark July night. This is the truth. This is my story, and this is what I saw.

  In walked the Minotaur. He seemed bigger than I remembered from the beast that grabbed me in the depths of the woods. He stood tall, approximately 7 foot in height, his frame vastly well-developed. He had the head of a bull, and the body of a man. My eyes scanned down the length of him. He was wearing white boxer shorts, his human legs ripped and muscular. His hoofed feet stood securely on the gravelly floor, his long tail flicking from left to right rhythmically behind him. I was frozen stiff. Where he had obtained those white boxer shorts from was a mystery that would remain unsolved, but no doubt the previous owner of the Calvin Klein branded underwear was now wandering around in the forest, naked. Or worse.

  I had always thought that a Minotaur was a mysterious beast of fantasy and legend—just a kid's story. But not this one. There he was before me. I let out a scream, a loud ear-shattering cry that I had no control over. Peter still didn't move. As if in response, the monster let out a tremendous roar, a booming, thunderous yell from the bottom of his lungs that caused the candle-holders on the walls to shake.

  My eyes were carefully concentrated on the creature, and he in turn calmly looked back at me. He was human in an animal way and animal in a human way, an uneasy blend of bull and body-b
uilder. But when I gazed into his eyes I witnessed a heart and soul look back. There was definitely intellect behind that animal face, there was psyche and awareness. I wondered what the hell it wanted from me.

  It was almost as though he was looking for something, examining me with his eyes, as if I was the strange one and he was completely ordinary. His gaze lowered slightly, and stopped at my tight-fitting top, under which my fat, lactating breasts heaved up and down with every quickening breath.

  He walked over to me. He reached out with both hands, firmly grabbed at the hem of my top, and with one lightning-fast motion tore my garment right down the middle. The remains of my top hung from me like tattered rags, as his dark eyes ravaged my full breasts, now rather weakly concealed underneath my bra. He grabbed at my bra in a similar fashion, before ripping if right down the middle. My tits were now fully exposed, bare and vulnerable in the dingy cave, the flickering candlelight bouncing off my twin orbs. He lowered his head and opened his mouth underneath my left breast, perfectly lined-up with my hard, stiff nipple. He put his thumb and forefinger either side of my erect nip, making goose-bumps appear on my dark-pink areola.

  The beast yanked at my nipple as if it were a cow’s udder, horizontally milking it. A gush of hot, white milk spurted out in a girly ribbon, into his open mouth.

  "Oh man." I whimpered. But it didn't actually feel too bad. It was kind of nice to have my full tit alleviated.

  The Minotaur took one big gulp. A trickle of my milk dripped from his mouth and down his chin, splashing against my quaking feet.

  He moved his head to underneath my right breast, but this time he didn't reach out and grip it. He leaned forward and placed his leathery, full lips on my hard nipple, and began to suck, like a baby kitten too its mother's teat. My protein-filled liquid sprayed out in a thick string, into his mouth and down his throat. He sucked away and glugged down as much of the ‘shake as possible, and I watched in disbelief as I felt my breast being emptied.