And I sat back, thoughtful, mind whirling. Because even this idle chit-chat revealed a lot about the big man, taking me by surprise. Troy had amazing depth, amazing empathy, amazing insight. He was responsible for babies, he knew that if their parents didn’t get paid, there would be no food in small mouths. He was aware of his incredible obligations, that the world was no tiny plaything, that he had responsibilities, a heavier burden than a regular man.
And it surprised me because I’d always thought rich people had it easy. Their money was like a cushion, they could sit back on an inflatable raft and trail their fingers through the water, a cocktail at their side. But obviously, my pre-conceived notions weren’t true because Troy was telling me that he cared about people, he cared about the people who worked for him, he cared about prisoners even, and … he cared about me. Because even now, he was sliding a steaming omelet towards me, fluffy and delectable, studded with bits of ham and red and green peppers.
“Ohhh,” I licked my lips in anticipation. “Looks delicious.”
He grinned knowingly.
“Honey, I made you two just in case,” he said, gesturing to another omelet on the other side of the counter.
I choked. Wasn’t the second one for him? I couldn’t possibly eat two, these things were huge. But he nodded.
“I ate when we were at the boutique, they fed me dinner while you were looking over some gloves. So eat up baby, I want you to put on weight.”
Put on weight?! Was he blind? No way, I could barely squeeze into the women’s section at some of my favorite department stores, I was gonna go up another size or two if I put on weight.
“No Troy, I couldn’t possibly,” I squeaked. “Two omelets? I’d burst!”
But he looked at me approvingly.
“I want you to burst baby, I want you to put on some poundage, you look amazing now but you’d look even better heavier. Twenty pounds,” he growled, eyes devouring me, seizing on my breasts, the huge girls softly rounded in my sweater. “Twenty pounds would do it.”
I flushed then, aware of how curvy I was, how I exploded everywhere, my ass falling off the stool in all directions, so round and luscious.
“Twenty pounds?” I protested again. “That’s crazy talk, there’s no way.”
But the big man grinned at me once more, reaching forward to cup a huge tit in one hand, weighing it in his palm, squeezing gently through the soft fabric, making me moan and gasp.
“Yeah, twenty pounds,” he muttered more to himself than anyone. “That’d make these girls swell up to Double H’s, you think?” he asked, eyes flashing up to meet mine. “Double H sounds about right, shit, you’d be busting out of lingerie, it’d be so fucking sexy.”
I positively melted then, nipples hardening visibly, jutting through the sweater like pebbles, begging to be touched. And the big man growled, trailing his fingers over the hard nubs, softly stroking in circles, then pinching suddenly, making me yelp, tingles shooting straight from my breasts to my cunt, making me grow embarrassingly wet, dripping from the love play. Because I wanted it, oh fuck yes, I wanted him so bad, I was ready to spread my legs for him right here on the kitchen floor.
But the big man was still mesmerized by my tits, the perfect teardrop ovoids.
“Yeah, Double H’s,” he rumbled, eyes on my body, softly niggling the underside of my other breast now. “That sounds fucking amazing.”
And with that, he pinched that nipple too, making me jolt in my seat, almost fall off the chair.
“Stop,” I panted, face flushed, trembling. “Stop or I won’t eat anymore of this delectable omelet.”
And he halted immediately.
“I usually don’t let women tell me to stop, I’m the boss and this is my house,” he rumbled, “but I’ll make an exception here because nothing gets between my baby and her food,” he added. “Nothing, not even me. Now eat,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Eat because we’re going to a basketball game afterwards.”
Basketball? I was flustered by the twists and turns in the conversation, from cooking to jails, to his past, to weight gain, and now to basketball. And I admit, I wasn’t much for sports. I’ve always been a klutz, someone consistently picked last in PE, no matter what we were doing. But the big man chuckled deep in his chest again.
“Honey, I want you to enjoy this week with me. I want you to have a good time, to let loose, to learn about the world, open your mind, open your body,” he said, chucking me under the chin before dropping another kiss on my lips. “So eat because we’ve got things to do, and you’re gonna have the time of your life once we get to Madison Square Garden.”
I gasped again. Madison Square Garden? Wasn’t that a premiere venue in Manhattan, where the best events were held, Taylor Swift, Lady Gaga, even the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show? We were going to MSG? And knowing Mr. Black, he probably had courtside seats, up close and personal. So of course, I obeyed. Because my owner, my captor, wasn’t treating me like a slave girl, someone he bought to meet his physical needs. He was treating me like … I paused, almost not daring to believe it. He was treating me like a girlfriend, I thought to myself, and a flush spread over my chest. I was like a girlfriend to him, even if only a temporary one, and suddenly, I too, wanted to make it work. I wanted to make this week special, wanted to make it unbelievable, extraordinary even, so that Troy Black would remember me after I was gone.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Troy
“Come on,” I grabbed her hand and led her over to an elevator. “This way.”
The brunette bit her lip but followed laughingly behind me. Ellie was fun to be with, game for anything, dressed now in tight jeans and a sweater that hugged her chest. Sure, the jeans were designer and the sweater the finest cashmere, but anything would have looked good on this girl. She was so fucking beautiful that even now, I wanted to ravage her here at stadium, tear off those new clothes with dozens of people milling all around us.
“Troy,” she said, “where are we going? Are there seats on the ceiling or something?”
I swatted her ass as we stepped into the elevator, uncaring who saw. Shit, she was so beautiful and all mine.
“Not quite the roof,” I murmured, hauling her in for a kiss. “But close.”
Because the elevator zoomed up quickly, like we were shooting into the sky. But it wasn’t the sky. We were headed to the owner’s box, a glass cube above the court, looking down upon the crowd, the throngs of fans cheering. It’s one of the benefits of the Billionaires Club, partial ownership in a number of sports teams, and fuck yeah, I’d joined partly for this perk. I wanted to be able to jet all over the United States, catching the best games live action, because shit, sports teams are an investment like anything else and it’s important to keep tabs on your bets.
Because I’m no dummy. Everything is an investment to me, from the mansion in New Jersey, to the commercial properties I own, to a sheep farm I had in New Zealand, shit, even what I’d paid for this girl. But yeah, things were turning out different from anticipated on this particular investment. Because I thought it’d be nothing more than a few good fucks, some hot pussy on my dick, but here I was, holding the girl’s hand, clasping her close to me like we were on a real date, laughing genuinely at her jokes. And so I took a deep breath. Shit, thing were out of control, I was so fucked.
But the brunette giggled again, eyes dancing with mirth.
“Troy, really? Right now? The elevators could open at any second.”
Because my hands were ravenous, they’d already burrowed under her sweater, tweaking lightly at those nipples and my dick was already stiff as a board.
“Fuck yeah, right now,” I growled, hauling her sweater up over her breasts so that those huge orbs dangled in front of me. “I don’t give a fuck who sees.”
And with that, I lowered my head, pushing a bra cup down to suckle at one pink nipple, rolling the hard tip in my mouth. And my little girl is a good one. Instead of pushing me away, instead of saying “No,
” the brunette merely tipped her head back, arching her chest to push more breastflesh into my mouth, her hips grinding subtly against me.
“Yes,” she murmured. “Ahhh, feels good, oh!”
And my hard-on, which was already stiff, went rock solid then. Because fuck, I hadn’t penetrated this girl yet. I’d been squiring her around, taking her shopping, even cooking for her, like she owned me and not the other way around. What the fuck was wrong with me? I should have had this girl bound to the bed already, nude and spread for my pleasure and instead, I was dating her, taking her out, showing her the world.
But the elevator dinged then, so I popped off, pulling the cashmere down once more, and led her into the private owner’s box. Ellie’s eyes were dazed, cheeks flushed, boobs heaving from the attention, steps still wobbly as she followed me into the suite.
But she gasped when she realized where we were.
“Oh my god,” she murmured, looking around with wonder. “It’s amazing.”
Because an owner’s box is designed for comfort and luxury, with the best view of the court and every amenity at your fingertips. There were a number of plush viewing seats, each with personal consoles to watch multiple channels, satellite TV at your fingertips. There was also a spread in back with all sorts of fruits, cheeses, wine and beer. But most of all, it was the box itself that was amazing. Because plush beige carpeting padded our footfalls, and the glass viewing pane was floor to ceiling, almost like we were hovering above the court in a transparent spaceship.
The brunette immediately ran over to the windows, pressing her hands against it, taking in the masses heaving below, the players warming up, food vendors selling hot dogs and drinks.
“Wow,” she gasped, stepping back slightly, wobbling in her heels. And I knew what had happened. The glass looks inviting, and it’s a hundred percent safe, reinforced, triple-paned plexi. But at the same time, you don’t realize how far up you are until you’re right up against it, and the effect can be dizzying. Even I got vertigo sometimes, the box was an aerie in the skies, eagles could nest here.
So I pulled Ellie back into the safety of my arms, nuzzling that sweet neck.
“Don’t worry, I gotcha,” I murmured against the skin under her ear. Fuck, she was so fragrant and soft, so inviting, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. I had to have her.
“Get naked,” I commanded, big hands running over those curves, sensuously stroking up and down the beautiful acreage.
The girl flushed, caramel brown eyes soft and melty.
“What? Here Troy?” she whispered.
And I nodded.
“Right here, right now. No one’s gonna come in.”
And slowly she nodded, making to step away from the window and into the interior of the box, away from the crowd where we could be seen. But I hauled her back so that we were mere feet from the edge.
“No worries, the vertigo goes away quick, you’re gonna be fine right here,” I rasped hotly into her ear, pulling that sweater up. “I want you naked.”
And she gasped again.
“But people will see,” she protested softly, “I mean, we’re high up, but still, if anyone wanted to, they could look up and see us.”
I grinned at her.
“That’s exactly the point,” I rumbled. “You’re so fucking beautiful, so fucking luscious that I want that naked body right here, I want people to know I own you, that I’m the man that fucks this beautiful body.”
Ellie’s cheeks colored.
“Oh god, Troy,” she whispered, flushing slightly with excitement, a new vista opening. “Oh god.”
But the time for games was over.
“Off,” I commanded. “Clothes off. Now.”
And with trembling hands, she obeyed. The brunette moved so that she was two feet from the glass, the events of MSG churning below us, the blare of the starting buzzer sounding out, and slowly pulled the cashmere over her head. I growled, appreciative, encouraging.
“You’re fucking beautiful and I’m gonna fuck you hard right in front of all these people.”
She colored at my dirty words, but it made her hot too. Because slowly she unsnapped her bra, letting the material drop and cupped those bountiful breasts in her hands, offering them to me, pink nips stiff and pointy.
“Like this?” she murmured throatily, caressing the soft white flesh. “You want to fuck me til my breasts bounce up and down, for all the world to see?”
And my cock shot to diamond strength then, straining against the stiff material of my jeans. Fuck, the dirty mouth on this girl was absolutely amazing, I wanted to hear her talk nasty to me, take my cock and tell me how she loved it.
So I nodded, eyes gleaming, body on full alert.
“Keep going,” I ground out. “Off.”
And smiling knowingly at me, the brunette shimmied out of her jeans, stepping out of the material so she wore nothing but the tiniest bit of pink over her pussy, the material so fine, so transparent that I could see the curve of her lips, how that hot clit stuck out between her labia, stiff and achy.
“Mmm,” she murmured, running her hands over her boobs, caressing the heft, then down her sinuous waist and over her hips. “Daddy want a look?” she said wickedly just before hooking her finger into the crotch of her panties and pulling them to the side, baring that sweet cunt. “Does it look good, Daddy?”
And I had to have her then. I had to taste, to feel, to penetrate and I was out of my clothes in a flash, on my knees before the beautiful girl, breathing against her pussy, letting that steaming flesh feel each exhale.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” I ground out again, reaching my fingers up to lightly stroke her nub. “Fuck.”
And the girl leaned back so that her back pressed against the glass, stabilizing herself a little, spreading her legs to let me in.
“Unnnh, Mr. Black,” she moaned, eyes drifting shut as I drew circles around her nub, feeling the pulsing throb, how achy and stiff her clit was. “Oh, feels good!” she whined as I pinched the hardness, giving it a quick slap before soothing it once again, rubbing my finger along the bottom of that protruding button.
“Fuck you’re hard,” I rasped, tearing my eyes away from her pussy to look up at her heaving boobs. Her tits were huge, delectable, pendulous above my head, the pink crests begging to be licked and sucked.
But I had a job before me and that was this gorgeous pussy. So I pulled apart her labia until those pink insides shone, glistening at me, until I could see right up her channel and leaned in for a taste. And fuck, but she was heavenly. I ran my tongue up one side, getting a deep lick and then skated across her clit, niggling it with my tongue before going down her other labia, sucking that sweet flesh.
“Mmm!” Ellie moaned above me, her voice rising into a high whine. “Mmm!” she cried out, legs going weak. And I grinned to myself because this was a virgin and Ellie had no experience. This was probably all new to her, getting her pussy sucked by a man.
And unlike a lot of dudes, I live to lick cunt. I adore the taste, craving the softness, the engorged flesh, and the best feeling is when a woman comes hard on my tongue, mouth pressed up against her hole, drinking her juices, feeling her spasm again and again on my lips. In fact, I consider myself a pussy aficionado. Every woman tastes different and I fucking love sampling the nectar, drinking the honey from their hot holes. So yeah, I was in my element and Ellie’s pussy was one of the best, perfectly formed, her labia fleshy, symmetrical, the white pulled apart to reveal steaming pink insides, dripping with ambrosia.
So I went to town. With one finger, I rubbed her nub, giving her a series of swift, even strokes, propelling that sweet body upwards as my mouth devoured her pinkness. Pulling her labia back, I sampled every inch of her inner skin, touching my mouth to the hole where my dick would go, even lapping the nectar on her inner thighs, the excess juice that smeared everywhere. But there was something more, something that only a virgin could give.
“Turn around baby, turn around and f
ace the glass,” I rasped into her folds.
The brunette’s eyelids fluttered softly, dazed, sensuous, but she obeyed without a word, turning so that her hands were pressed against the glass pane. But the thing about being with a curvy woman is that they’ve got huge breasts, and in this case it wasn’t just Ellie’s hands pressed against the glass. Oh fuck yeah, her tits were smashed up against them too, the cold surface a stimulant against her nipples, her hot flesh leaving steamy imprints.
“Oh god, they can see me,” she cried out as I laved her pussy from the back, running my tongue all the way from clit to asshole. “Oh god, oh god, they can see.”
And I grinned into her moist flesh, lapping at her hole once more, savoring the trickle of pussy juice on my tongue.
“Sure, they can see,” I rumbled. “And I want them to see.”
Because despite Ellie’s cries, I was sure that all any curious passerby could see were two huge white orbs smashed against the glass, maybe with the imprint of her hands too. There was no way anyone could really see what was going on unless they had binoculars. But MSG is designed so that every seat has a decent view of the game, and the Knicks are pretty good this year, fans were probably focused on the game and not watching me fuck my gorgeous girl in public. Although shit, I was so turned on from all this that I was considering going for more, I wanted people to see me run my huge dick into that sweet cunt, wanted her to cream visibly, boobs shaking as I owned this hot body.
But for now, baby steps. So yeah, I tongued her pussy from the back, ripping her panties off so she was completely nude, that huge white ass hefty and round, squeezing and massaging the flesh. And spreading her open once more, I once again found the proof of her virginity, slipping my tongue against her hymen, licking it.
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