Turned Out! (BBW Erotic Romance) (6 page)

She smiled as she slipped her hand under her other breast as he changed nipple.  Demon or fetish, she didn’t think that he would ever leave her nipples in peace.

As he started to slowly stroke back and forth inside her, she visualized the funny picture they would make to an onlooker.  They were practically the same height, but bizarrely his legs were longer than hers, though men tended to have shorter legs than women of the same height. His head barely reached past her breasts when they were in the missionary position.  At first they had both been a little self conscious about it, but they’d soon realized that it was the best of circumstances—he was happiest with his head on or near her breasts.

Bryce was now thrusting smoothly in and out of her.  Every time he came to the precipice, he pulled himself back from the edge.  Changing positions: alternating her legs on his shoulders, then placing them both there; positioning her on the end of the bed and taking her from the front and then the back; lying back and letting her ride him as he sucked on her nipples and then finally moving into the missionary position again and driving himself into her with more vigour until she clamped around him and triggered a ball-cramping climax.

“I think your pussy’s got me hypnotized,” he said a few minutes later as he snuggled his face deeper into her bosom.  “I used to jerk off every chance I got.  Even in the toilets at work.  Now I don’t want to come unless I’m inside you.”

“You poor thing,” Lorna chuckled and kissed the top of his head.

Bryce still couldn’t believe how much he enjoyed curling up with a woman to sleep.  In the past he always turned his back on his sleeping partner, even Rachel.  For one thing, he feared that they would accidentally knee him in the balls. They had all been flesh and bone with no cushion; Lorna was firm but soft and he loved nothing better than to sink into her warm flesh.  Her breasts made the best pillow ever.  These days he slept like a log; before he used to go to bed at midnight and be up, tossing and turning, two or three hours later.

“Would you take Rachel back if she wanted you?” Lorna asked about an hour later, her voice low and thick with sleep and exhaustion.

He barely made out the words, but his answer was immediate and decisive, “Hell, no!”

“Good.”  Lorna sounded surprised and pleased at his response.

It surprised the hell out of him too.

All he’d wanted and prayed each waking day for seven months was that Rachel would come back.  The fact that she treated him badly hadn’t mattered.  As a matter of fact, the more she treated him badly, the more love he’d felt for her.  She hadn’t cared about his feelings, hadn’t cared about leaving him without a word and in debt to his eyeballs.

She had left him so bitter, he had harboured a secret malice against women.  Lorna had borne the brunt of that spite—not in a verbally or physically abusive way—in the offhand, careless manner he had treated her.  Rachel had turned him into the person who had felt the need to treat someone else as badly as he had been treated.

No, he didn’t want her back for anything.

And he certainly wouldn’t leave Lorna for her.

He wouldn’t leave Lorna for
anyone
.

She treated him like a king.

She made him feel ten feet tall.

And her pussy...damn if he could ever get enough of it!

I smiled to myself, almost limp but still nestled in her welcoming heat.

Just as I’d predicted.

Like a dealer giving free cocaine to a user to get him hooked, Lorna had given him the pussy freely and now he’s addicted to her crack.

He hadn’t seen the danger of BBW loving.

He hadn’t understood that once you go BBW, you can’t go back.

He had been blissfully unaware that he was being totally and utterly turned out!

*****

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Turned Out!,
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exy xxxx

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I
kept my eyes closed and moaned as strong hands roamed my body, first my nipples, tweaking them firmly until they were standing erect as proof that I desired him, then they moved down to the junction of my thighs and dipped into my honeypot in search of nectar.  More proof that I was here because I wanted him and not because I was tied to him by a contract I’d signed when I was not of legal age to do so.

My mother used to say that you can get used to anything if you put your mind to it.  With the arrogance of youth I had doubted her at the time, but after eight years, five months and eleven days of having his hands touch me, I’ve become resigned to my fate.  It helps that I imagine younger, stronger hands in place of his and a lithe, hairless chest pressing against mine instead of the grey mat I wanted to trim or shave...or pluck out strand by strand.

“So wet for Daddy.”  The rumble of his voice was indicative of the size of the man: a bear and covered in hair.  I believe in the Bible and all its teachings, but presented with specimens such as the man positioning himself at my entrance and about to thrust himself inside me, roughly so that I have to cry out in pain as he likes me to, I find it hard to believe that apes weren’t our forefathers—or at least his.  “So wet and eager for Daddy’s cock and still as tight as a little virgin.”

Any woman would feel tight given your nine-inch salami, you hairy mammoth!

Just one session with Matthew would cure any woman with a craving for a well-endowed man.  I forced my body to relax as he started pounding into me, full strokes from tip to base.

Thankfully he wouldn’t last long; the one thing the man, who needed to control everyone and everything around him, couldn’t control was his ejaculation.  He was the poster child for premature ejaculators, but at fifty-five you would think that he would have mastered the art.

“Your tight pussy is going to make Daddy come quickly, baby.”

And of course, something or someone else was always to blame for his failure or inadequacy.

***

“Y
ou’ve been holding out on me, babygirl.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked wondering what he would do if he knew just how much I kept from him.

“You didn’t tell me that you know Remington Ross.”

My heartbeat thundered in my ears.  For a moment I couldn’t hear anything above it. 
Oh shit!
  Had I spoken the name aloud when I’d come?  The one thing Matthew had going for him was the ability to eat pussy.  His big tongue felt good pushed deep inside me.  But, I realized with a breath of relief, my earlier orgasm had been low key—pleasant but not earth shattering.  I hadn’t even moaned.

“We were in the same class in secondary school, but I haven’t seen him in years,” I explained.  Well, not outside the television and my dreams.

“Daddy needs to know that kind of information, babygirl,” Matthew reprimanded, lifting my chin to stare into my eyes.  “I’ve been talking for months about going up against that bastard for the government gold contract and you didn’t think to tell me that you know him personally?”

“I don’t know him personally,” I protested.  “I couldn’t just call him up and have a conversation!  If we met in the street he would probably walk straight past me.”

Remington would certainly do that, but not because he had become too elevated to talk to common folk like me.  He was furious with me long before he made his first million.

“Don’t be so modest, babygirl.”  Matthew’s fingers tightened on my chin.  I tried hard not to wince to give him the satisfaction.  “I spoke to one of your old classmates and he told me that you two were hot for each other.”

“Matthew, that was ten years ago.  The man has probably since had more girlfriends than I’ve had hot dinners!”

“
He
the one?”

“Yes.”  I could have played for time and asked which ‘one’ he meant, but the topic was the reoccurring theme of our weekly sessions: the fact that I wasn’t a virgin when Matthew and I had first slept together three months after my seventeenth birthday; the fact that he’d thought he was getting unspoiled goods when he’d paid for my mother’s cancer treatment in the US and had me sign a contract of ‘pussy on tap’ for ten years or until I repaid the money in full.  He would waive the interest, he’d told me, smiling magnanimously as if he’d expected me to thank him.  I hadn’t since he would have been enjoying my young pussy instead of the interest in the time it took me to earn or save the money.

“You let that fucking bastard take what was mine!”

I steeled myself for the blow I knew was coming, but it still rocked my head backwards against the headboard.  Some men don’t know their own strength.  Matthew’s one of them.  He was born centuries too late.  He was built to be hunting wildebeest on the Serengeti and wrestling with the odd lion which crossed his path.  “Why didn’t you tell me that
he
was the fucker who popped your cherry?”

“Matt, it was long before you,” I lied, tentatively flexing my jaw and hoping that it wasn’t going to be noticeably swollen as it had been five months ago when he had given me the previous ‘love tap’ as he liked to call them.  “It was just one time.”

“One time?” Matthew laughed and hugged me against him.  “The little fucker obviously didn’t have what it takes to keep my babygirl satisfied.”

I snuggled my head onto his shoulder and he snickered, taking the action as confirmation of his statement, as I had meant him to.

At sixteen, Remington was ten times a better fuckman than you, you overgrown jackass!

“No, don’t go to sleep.”  He shook me as I settled against him, intending to lull him to sleep by faking sleep myself.  “I have a little proposition for you.”

What now?

“Yes?”  I didn’t want to sound eager, but I had to show a little enthusiasm or risk another backhanded slap.

“If you can get close enough to Ross to get some information I need, I will consider your debt to me repaid in full.”

I would walk on hot coals to be free of the ruthlessly controlling bastard, but take on Remington?  I wouldn’t waste my time—the man was too far out of my league.

“Matt, there’s no way I could even make an appointment to see Remy, much less get close to him.”

“Remy?  Is that your little pet name for him?”  Matthew asked casually, but his hand tightened in my shoulder-length hair until a few strands ripped free.  “Babygirl, don’t underestimate the power of your tight pussy.  I’d thought that I would get bored within a year, but eight years on and I still find myself impatiently waiting for Wednesday.”

Wednesday: the day his wife Maude chairs the Women’s Group meeting at Mount Caramel, the local Pentecostal church.

“Are you saying that you want me to sleep with him?”  Matthew didn’t share.  He was an only child—his mother had probably taken one look at him and decided one of him was enough—so he hadn’t learned the skill.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he reminded me.  Another couple of strands were torn out.  “This government gold deal is big, babygirl.  Bigger than anything Daddy has ever handled and the only person standing in my way is that
fucker
Ross.”

“Matthew, the man lives in the States.  How would I get to meet him?”

“Don’t worry about that, babygirl.  Daddy will set you up not far from his apartment and his main office in Manhattan.  Tenders have to be in for February.  That gives you three months to work your magic on him.”

Oh God, I would kill for three months in the USA!  Three months away from the gorilla.  Three months of seeing my little sweetie whenever possible.

***

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