by Hayden Ash
The fantasy only lasts a few moments, however, because I know that Ginnifer would feel so much better. Nothing about her or her body is fake. Her curves are entirely natural, and she has a pure quality to her these women could never have. I just want to protect her and take care of her and make love to her like she’s never been made love to before. But, as I force myself to push these thoughts out of my mind, I realize that this setting is not helping, and actually making things worse because no one in here is nearly as great as she is to me.
“Hey, Vince, I’m taking off back to the hotel. My stomach is ripping me the fuck up!” I lie.
“Oh shit, yeah, head home my guy! Watching a big guy like you throwing up monster-sized vomit is not exactly my idea of a good time!” Vince laughs. “Looking forward to your speech tomorrow, by the way! TOP TEN!”
“TOP TEN, YOU ALREADY KNOW!” I yell back—referring to Vince’s obsession of making it into the top ten wealthiest people in the world. It’s a vision we both share, but, unlike Vince, I want there to be a woman by my side when I cross that line.
I exit the strip club and hop in the Bugatti that Vince had delivered for all of us to enjoy, while we’re in town for this convention. Within two minutes, I’m already flying down the freeway, desperate to simply reach the hotel and go to sleep.
My phone buzzes and I grab it out of my pocket.
“Hello?” I ask.
“Hi, um, is this Micah Scott?” A young, female voice asks me.
“It is,” I say.
“This is Ginnifer,” the voice says.
Suddenly, the blurred weariness I’ve been slowly succumbing to is erased, and I’m brought back to full awareness—my adrenaline pumping hard through my veins.
“Oh, hey, how are you, Ginnifer?” I ask.
“I’m so incredibly embarrassed to admit this, but I sort of got your number from your check-in information. I just…really needed to speak with you.”
“Concerning?” I ask.
“Concerning what I said to you in the lobby before I left. Well, um, it’s a lie. I’m not with anyone. I’m completely available…for you. And, I would really, really like to see you…tonight, if possible. Maybe, at a bar?”
“I’m actually exhausted, and I have to get up early, so I’m probably just going to head to sleep. But, I appreciate you calling,” I say.
“Oh, no, I understand. It’s…this was idiotic, I’m sorry. I, um, ok bye,” she says then hangs up.
For the rest of the trip, I think about how much I want her, but how much I shouldn’t have her. I do not know why she would lie to me, but the fact that she did certainly lets me know that she isn’t as interested in me as I had initially thought. She should remain a fantasy never to be lived out. I know that I can’t take any more pain in my life right now.
I reach my hotel and give my car to the valet. Then, I head into the lobby and hop in an elevator just before it closes.
The ride up to the top floor feels excruciatingly long, but finally, I reach my penthouse suite.
I open the door and Ginnifer is standing there in the middle of the suite. She’s been crying, but even know she looks incredibly beautiful to me.
We stare at one another for a while, not sure what to say. And, then I run at her quickly and lift her up in my arms and press her up against the glass wall of my suite that overlooks the entire city. She runs her hands through my hair wildly, as I pull down her pants and panties. She pants hard as I put my thick fingers in her pussy. And, feeling so incredibly horny for her and only her, I know that there’s no time for foreplay, and rip my pants and briefs down and enter her.
Ginnifer III
His cock is so thick and full of blood as it goes in and out of me, relentlessly stroking my pussy at just the right angle—causing my limbs to twist and buckle uncontrollably.
“Keep fucking me, daddy…” I whisper in between moans.
And, I hold onto his enormous arms, large borders covered in tough, rugged skin. His vast, muscular chest presses against my breasts—radiating their powerful strength onto them, and making me feel so safe even as I dominated by this man who’s almost three times my size.
And as I slide deeper down onto his cock, I discover that my fears of him being the cliche big man with a little dick to be as far from the truth as is humanly possible. It feels me up, chokes my pussy with his size and strength that I’m not sure how much of it I can take, and I’m in Heaven right now—never wanting this moment to end because I’ve never been with anyone close to his size and skill in my entire life.
I finally see the masculinity that was missing in all of the men I’ve been with in the past. My fear that men were something only to be feared and that a huge, fierce man who could have any woman he wanted would only hurt me was preventing me from experiencing anything like this. It was preventing me from ever being with a man like Micah. A man who takes what he wants, who has the strength to dominate me in every way, who has the maturity and discipline to master me and to guide me into a brand new world where I can finally relax and be myself because I’m so confident that he knows what he’s doing and because of that I trust him to take care of me and my body.
He throws me on the bed and glides over me. I see us in the mirror and am shocked by our size difference. He is the hulk, and I am simply a barbie doll in his arms. He stares down at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he has ever seen—like he’s in love with me and I realize that he is a man who’s size and strength obscures how emotional he actually he is in a way that makes me soak with pleasure because I know that this moment in time means something to him. I’m not just his woman of the night or even his woman of the week or month or year. I’m real to him. He sees me. And not only accepts me as I am, but he also loves who I am.
“You were better than I was ready for…” I whisper in his ear.
His eyes become glassy with tears, even as his huge cock continues to dominate my fragile pussy splitting me open and knocking out most of my other senses.
And, I cum repeatedly on his perfect dick, and when he kisses me finally, it feels so sweet and so unique that I start to cry because I’ve never had a man be so transfixed by me as he is right now.
Then, as I start to blackout from all the pleasure, he pulls his giant cock out of me and cums on my stomach. I get on all fours and suck it dry.
Then he passes out and pulls me into his arms where I fall asleep with him.
Epilogue
Ginnifer IV
The morning light enters through the glass wall and wakes us up.
I become anxious thinking about the fact that he’s on a business trip, and it’s highly unlikely that I will ever see him again once I leave his room this morning. This is even more likely because he is a billionaire, and this is how billionaires live. Taking whomever they want—based on simple whims and comfortable conveniences, but, inevitably, return to the women that more neatly fit into their lives—women they are sectioned off as those who billionaires marry. I do not fit into his world. I’m the furthest thing from the ideal woman for him.
I slip out of his arms and push myself reluctantly out of bed. I want to stay with him. I want him to make love to me again, but I know that I wouldn’t be able to stand the possibility that he’ll wake up and pretend like he doesn’t even know how he ended up in bed with me. So, I slip on my clothes and walk over to the bathroom to fix my hair, so it isn’t so apparent that I just had sex.
In the bathroom, I breathe and remind myself that I need to walk out of this bathroom and straight out of the suite, because if I see him lying there in the bed, I will get weak, and it will get progressively worse from there.
I turn the knob and open the door, but am shocked to see Micah standing there waiting for me. He remains still—his huge muscles glowing in the morning light, and his giant cock hanging in between his thick, powerful legs looking so delicious.
“You’re dressed?” He asks.
“I, um, I know how this goes. You don’t have to
…” I begin saying.
But, before I can finish my sentence, he wraps his arms around me and kisses me hard on my lips.
And, then, he undresses me slowly—taking his time to take off each piece one at a time.
Then, he picks me up and cradles me in his arms and carries me back to the bed.
Then, he lies next to me and gently grabs my face—turning it towards him. He wipes the tears that have started falling down my cheek and says:
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours.”
BOOK 4: Please, Daddy?
Lorelei I
This is the way we break into a thousand pieces.
The thought echoes through my mind like flickers of flames spitting out of a fireplace. My eyes fill up with tears of empathy for my friend as she cries in my arms—another abrupt end to a doomed love story.
“What did I do so wrong?!” Lexi asks me.
“Nothing,” I say, stroking her hair. “When a guy cheats on you, it’s never about you. It’s always because he’s a fucking loser.”
“Do you ever just feel like every guy is that way, though?” She asks me.
“All the time.”
“Ok, so then it must be us!”
“No, Lexi, don’t say that!” I sigh. Shit, maybe it is us.
“The only real man in our lives is your stepdad, Christian,” Lexi says.
“Christian is not my stepdad. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that!” I say.
“Your ‘temporary guardian’…whatever,” Lexi says. “The way he treats you…sure, he buys you Versace and Dior just because it’s a Tuesday, but it’s the way he looks at you.”
“How does he look at me?” I ask.
“Like he loves you…like, actually loves you. I mean, I know it’s just a platonic thing, but it doesn’t feel that way. When he looks at you, it’s like he forgets his own fucking name. That’s all I want from a guy…that when he sees me in a crowd, I take his breath away,” Lexi tells me.
As Lexi spends the next hour crying on my lap, I think about Christian. And, I think about the time that we met—when I showed up at his front door with nothing but a huge duffle bag over my narrow shoulder, about to tip over because it was so heavy. And, I remember his eyes, such a deep blue, and such a contrast to his fierce, black hair. He towered me over that day and looked down at me—already protecting me with his mere presence.
And, I recall feeling so weak in the knees, because here was this guy who looks like one of those Ancient sculptures of a Greek God, smelling incredible, and a smile that’s just so ravishing that I felt like I might faint. He grabbed my hip. He held it powerfully in his tremendous grip and never broke eye contact with me. Then, out of nervousness, I took his hand off of me, and I’ve regretted it every minute of every day since then.
I know that he wants to fuck me. I know that when I walk around in nothing but my panties, he gets incredibly hard, and has to relieve himself in the shower. And, when I hear the shower running, I lean against the bathroom door, and finger myself, while I listen to him quietly stroke his cock, and imagine that we’re in that shower together—his hand firmly planted on my soapy bottom, and my hands on his thick dick.
But, Lexi is wrong about the way that he looks at me. Christian could never love me. He can have any woman he wants, and I’m just a homeless girl he decided to give some shelter until she got back on her feet.
“At least, we’re going to Hawaii in a few weeks,” Lexi says, breaking me out of my thought spiral over Christian.
“Oh shit, I totally forgot about that!” I say.
“What? You know today is the last day to get your permission slip signed and submitted to the History Department?”
“Why do we need permission slips? We’re eighteen, not eleven,” I say. “This school is so fucking weird.”
“From what I hear goes on at the senior trip, it’s probably to protect the school from a lawsuit from our parents,” Lexi tells me.
“Eh, fuck our parents,” I say.
“Lorelei, our parents are from the .0001 top percentile of wealth. They could seriously fuck this school up and shut it down in like a day if they felt like it.”
“Oh, right,” I say. “Well, I guess I gotta’ this thing signed then because I’m not missing this party. It will be the last time I see a lot of you all…”
“I know. Please, make sure you get it signed, Lorelei. I really need you!”
Christian I
“I told her that she probably needed to get ass implants or she would lose him, and she had the nerve to get mad at me and tell me that I was hurting her self-esteem!” My date tells me.
I look at her, and then at the window—the daylight pouring through the quiet restaurant. Then, I pour myself yet another glass from the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, because this has been a really tough date to get through without falling asleep.
“I mean the truth is the truth. Women like us need to be able to compete with these stupid, young sluts running around here. Men have higher expectations these days, you know?” She continues.
“I guess…” I answer.
“I mean, you know, you’re a plastic surgeon, right?” She asks me.
“Yes,” I say, the boredom I feel causing my eyes to drift to sleep.
“Well?”
“Well, what?” I ask.
“What do you think?” She asks me.
“What do I think about what?” I ask.
“The fuck?! Are you not listening to me at all? I knew this date was a waste of my fucking time. There was another guy who asked me out that I turned down for this. What a fucking mistake,” she says, shaking her head. “You know what? I should call him to pick me up…yes, that’s what I’ll do!”
My date picks her phone off the table and starts dialing a number. Then, I grab her hand before she can dial another key.
“What the hell?” She barks.
“Do you honestly think that I’m going to allow you to disrespect me by calling another man, while you’re on a date with me?” I ask calmly.
“Let me? How the fuck do you think you can stop me?” She asks.
“Simple, like this,” I say.
Then, I get to my feet and start heading for the door.
“Miles, put the bill on my tab. Let Ms. Smith order anything that she wants off the menu,” I say as I walk out the door.
Outside, I stand in the cold and wait for my driver to pull around the corner and up to the restaurant. Where am I meeting these women? They’re all so utterly wrong for me.
My driver pulls up to the curb and runs out to open the door for me.
As I step inside the backseat, I think to myself that to some advice I was told the billionaires who were formerly my mentors and who’s fortunes I surpassed before I was thirty—one. They would say to me that I had to get used to a different sort of woman. These women would never love me, never love anyone, because they didn’t love themselves. They would allow me to have affairs only to be able to earn a fantastic divorce settlement. If I ever had a down period financially, they would threaten to leave me, and if I ever had a fantastic quarter of earnings, they would emasculate me to keep me from feeling good enough about me to feel like I could ever meet another woman who would want to be with me. This is the way of things for billionaires, they told me because we are expected to be with a specific type of woman. Well, I refuse. I’m my own man, and I’m going to live my life my way. They might cut me out of their little “society,” which will mean missing out on certain lucrative deals. But, I’m not a slave, and love and romance are too important to sacrifice for anything.
Lorelei II
“Friday night and you decided to be here with me?” I ask Christian cutely.
“Not now, honey,” Christian tells me, pulling out his phone. “What restaurant would you like us to order from tonight?” He asks me.
“Nonsense, I’m going to cook for you!” I tell him, grinning.
“Oh, really, now? You must want som
ething…” he says, smiling in fake suspicion.
“Oh, Christian, you read me like a book!” I giggle.
Christian steps closely towards me—the sole of his dress shoe, clicking loudly against the hard floor. He’s so close that I can smell his subtle, crisp scented cologne. I look up at those intensely dark blue eyes of his as his big, muscular body casts a shadow all over me.
Then, he touches my hips. I stop breathing and feel an intense throbbing in my pussy. Time seems to slow down as he stares down at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and I look up at him knowing that he’s the most amazing man that I’ve ever met.
“You know you can call me…”
“No,” I say quickly, on instinct. “I…can’t.”
He puts his forehead against mine and then touches my cheeks.
“Then, why are you shaking right now?”
“You know it’s complicated, Christian…” I whisper.
“Yes, I understand,” he whispers.
And, as he walks away from me, I feel like I’m falling off of a cliff into jagged rocks. I don’t want him to go anywhere. I want him right here. With me. Taking me like I know he wants to and like I know that I want him too—more than I’ve ever wanted anything. But, I’m just so afraid of being hurt. It would be so much easier if he didn’t love me.
And then, like a miracle, I notice the permission slip on the dining table my mind starts to work at double time, and I realize that there might be a way to have my cake and eat too without ever having to get too emotional about it.
Christian II
I walk slowly into my study, grabbing an empty glass from the shelf and some cognac from my special collection.
