Sucker for Her Curves (A Billionaire, BBW Extreme Seduction Story)

by Christa Wick

  Still rubbing methodically at her backside, Alt leaned to whisper in Daisy’s ear.

  “You need milked, beautiful.”

  Her hips jerked again, a groan ripped from her throat at his hot words and relentless touch.

  “Let me help you,” he coaxed. “Let me take the pressure away.”

  She swallowed convulsively, her body beginning to rock back and forth, her breasts dragging against the floor over and over, her milk streaking the marble.

  Alt wrapped his hand around her throat, gently forcing her upward until she was on her knees, her torso erect, her ass bouncing lightly against his legs as he moved behind her.

  The back of her head cradled itself against Alt’s cock as he reached down, his hands plunging past the neckline of her blouse and beneath her bra. He pulled the absorbent pads out and let them fall to the marble with a wet smack. Finding that her bra had a front closure, he groaned and released the clasp, freeing her cream filled breasts and, for one brief moment, reducing the pressure restraining them.

  His hands closed around her breasts, the size of her globes too large to be restrained even by his large, masculine hands. Squeezing at the sides, he forced them together, his thumbs pressing down from the top as his fingers pressed upward, tugging and kneading, rocking against her as the back of her skull rubbed along his cock.

  With a growl, Alt ripped her shirt, shredding the front of the fabric so that fine strands floated in the air. He dragged the bra up and off then seized her breasts again, plucked sharply at the nipples until he found just the right pressure and angle to make them squirt thick streams.

  A dreamy sigh escaped him before he turned rough again, his voice raw as he spoke.

  “Let me smell more than the sweet cream squirting from your breasts, Daisy,” he demanded. “I want the perfume of your pussy. It was so strong in the examination room.”

  Letting her self-determination be lulled to sleep by the way he tugged and rocked at her, Daisy lowered her hands to her waistline, unzipped her pants and pushed them lower down her hips, her fingertips lingering near her mound.

  “Stroke yourself for me, spread your slick juices, smear them, feed them to the air.”

  She gasped, Alt’s words driving her to the edge of a climax. Shoving her hand between her thighs, she fingered and palmed at her juices, raking wet fingers through her pubic hair, wiping her palm on her belly before she parted her labia and one thumb tracked up and down her clit. Her body turned jerky, the last of her control evaporating in the space of a few strokes.

  Daisy pitched forward, her palms smacking on the wet marble tile. She couldn’t stay upright any more. With a moan, Alt draped himself across her back, one hand planted alongside hers while the other squeezed at her breast. His pants were down, his cock between her thighs and sliding against the line of her pussy, the fat head finding her sensitive clit.

  His lips against her ear, he whispered hot against her flesh. “Let me in, Daisy. Let me unlock that last door inside you.”

  “Yes,” she groaned, her mind rinsed clean of patents and percentages, consent and coercion, her sole focus the unrelenting ache between her legs.

  Alt pushed in fast and hard, no barrier between his cock and the clutching interior of her pussy. His teeth fastening on her shoulder, he rammed his cock deeper, alternating between long, swirling strokes and vicious thrusts.

  “Keep touching yourself,” he growled.

  She reached down, gasping, screaming, crying, and rubbed at her clit until her eyes rolled up in her head, her spine jerked and she collapsed onto her elbows, hips wild like a bucking mare.

  Alt released her breast, reared back and fastened his hands around her hips, holding her immobile as he delivered his hardest thrust yet then froze, his release untangling inside her in thick, jetting streams.

  Chapter Three

  Daisy’s body continued to buzz with satisfaction, more satisfaction than she had ever experienced from the act of climaxing, but her mind quickly clouded with worry.

  And embarrassment.

  “I’ll have fresh clothes brought up for you,” he soothed, coaxing her onto her feet. “But there’s more for us to do—more for me to do.”

  Daisy couldn’t think, couldn’t anticipate what was running through Alt’s mind when he said those words.

  She offered a blank stare in response.

  “Your body feels good right now, but you haven’t reached the euphoric state.”

  She could neither nod nor shake her head. How was she not in a euphoric state? Parts of her had to be. Her pussy still thrummed, still threatened another climax with the slightest slide of her plump labia over her clit.

  “Trust me, Daisy. We are not finished by a long shot.”

  Kicking his pants off, he urged Daisy to step out of hers then carefully navigated her away from the slick pool of her milk that turned the marble floor into a hazard.

  “What is this?” she asked as he led her down a gray hall of closed mahogany doors.

  “It’s my home when I’m in the States,” he answered, stopping until they reached a door midway down the hall. “It takes up the whole of the top floor.”

  “And when you’re not in the States?”

  “I live in a castle,” he chuckled. “Complete with a dungeon.”

  The way he said the final word sent chills down her spine, but they weren’t the dreadful kind of chills she would have expect only a few hours before. They were the kind of chills that demanded to be chased away by the lick of a hot tongue or the warm press of thick, masculine lips.

  The tongue could be thick, too, her thoughts careened. And it didn’t have to lick. Probing was entirely acceptable.

  Alt opened the door onto what had to be the master suite, the same gray and Botticelli blue dominating the color scheme.

  Placing Daisy on the center of the bed, Alt disappeared into the master bathroom, emerging with towels colored a soft rose. Before positioning the towels beneath Daisy, he brought her another cold bottle of water and bid her drink.

  She sipped when he reminded her to, raised her ass when he told her to do so, and waited patiently as he returned to the bathroom and ran several washcloths under hot water.

  Coming back to the bed, Alt sat beside Daisy and gently wiped one of the washcloths over her breasts. The heat and his gentle touch caused the nipples to begin leaking again. She closed her eyes, disturbed by the sight—but not the sensation. And she didn’t want to un-see everything.

  She liked looking at Alt, even if his mouth seemed too generous for the harsh planes of his face and the rough day’s growth of beard. She liked looking at the way his gaze had grown soft as he slowly cleansed her flesh. And when she saw him draw that thick lower lip into his mouth and bite at it, she thought she would come just from looking at him.

  When he actually lowered his mouth to her breast and surprised Daisy by sucking on the nipple, her mind unraveled.

  Still sucking, Alt stretched out next to her, a fresh, warm cloth in his hand as he stroke at her pussy, washing away the sticky combination of their fluids, melting them with the heat and the sensuous glide of his hand along her mound, between her labia, over her clit.

  Putting aside the cloth, he massaged between her thighs while he continued to gently suckle at her breasts. She curled her palm around the back of his head, lightly holding him to her. Daisy’s entire body relaxed, the sucking and stroking bringing her to an almost hypnotic state. She didn’t feel shame at the fluid released into Alt’s mouth or that it ran in thick rivulets down the sides of both breasts. She wasn’t embarrassed about the very different wet mess between her thighs, its deep, secret smell filled with fertile undertones.

  Her hips began to dance from his touch. Her hand pressed more insistently at the back of his skull.

  “Patience, beautiful,” he counseled, slipping lower down the bed. “I promised you euphoria.”

  She blinked, slow, her thoughts unable to coalesce into words.

  Again, sh
e wondered—was this not euphoria?

  “Now, Daisy,” Alt promised. “Now I’m going to show you exactly what I mean.”

  His head descended between her thighs, his hands pushing at her plump flesh, widening the spread of her legs to make room for his powerful shoulders. Curling one hand across her mound, Alt pushed two thick fingers of the other hand into her pussy, the digits curled so that they only shallowly penetrated her.

  Then he took his first slow lick against her clit.

  “Oh…”

  That gentle utterance was what she heard in her mind, but the room echoed with a full throated scream of ecstasy. Later, she might look through the haze of pleasure and analyze just where he had been touching inside her, the curl of his fingers rubbing against her Skene’s glands.

  But at the moment, she was just a woman being slowly driven out her mind by the thoughtful, tender worship of her body.

  Over and over Alt rubbed just inside her gate as he nuzzled her clit, the hand against her mound rhythmically squeezing the plump flesh. Right and left, up and down, his tongue chased the pearl hiding under the hood of her clit, bullying and soothing it in turns. Her nails clawed at the bedding, her need to touch him warring with the fear that she might scratch and scratch deeply.

  On and on, up and up the sensations of his tongue and hands drove Daisy until she was looking down on their bodies, at Alt in a prostrate position, sucking and licking and stroking her until she floated at the edges of the room, the ceiling at her back, and at her own body, opening to him, tears streaming down her cheeks, her breasts slick with the milk his touch produced, both of them in danger of drowning in her release as her climax rumbled through her slow, hard and completely out of control — like a churning, indomitable avalanche.

  Feeling the hard jerks of Daisy’s body, Alt soothed his hands up to her hips, holding her down as he continued to suckle at the swollen pearl of her clit. Daisy bucked with a hard keening cry, her arms reaching toward the ceiling, toward the image of her face looking down on her in zen like contemplation.

  With the last jerk of her spine, Daisy froze, only her clit and the deep interior muscles of her pussy moving, dancing, contracting, squirting to fill Alt’s greedy, meticulously thorough mouth. His face rode her pussy past the last contraction and then he moved up to where they were eye to eye, his warm, naked body pressing against her side.

  “Now, beautiful, you see?”

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  For that moment, it felt like she could see and understand everything.

  Chapter Four

  “What do you mean, I can’t return to school?”

  “Just for two weeks,” Alt assured her, rotating her hand and placing a pen in her open palm. “You need this week’s injection and we have more work to do.”

  “More work?” Fresh suspicion danced in her gaze as she looked at the hall beyond his office, the same hall that led to the master bedroom.

  A grin splashed across his face, but he quickly wiped it away. “Well, yes, the bedroom is our laboratory. As are other room’s in the penthouse.”

  Rolling her eyes, she scooted her chair so that he wasn’t so close to her. This time, when she did it, he maintained the space between them instead of immediately closing the gap. Even with another dose of the antidote to the injection calming her body, his simple presence threatened to have her soaking through her blouse and begging him to take her again.

  Would women really sign up for this kind of drug?

  Certainly, it felt amazing when it was happening. But what about afterwards? The effect was on her body—not his.

  “I need to understand more than how much of a percent I’m getting,” she said, raising a scolding finger and shaking it at him. “And don’t tell me it’s proprietary.”

  “Explaining it would take too much time and interfere with your next injection,” he answered, a furrow running a squiggly line across his brow. “It’s critical that you get the next injection.”

  “Well, can you give me the injection then give me more capsules.”

  “Theoretically,” he conceded. “It would be safe for you, at a minimum.”

  “Dr. Alt,” Daisy laughed. “I do believe you’re pouting.”

  With a mock growl, he took the pen from her and forced her palm onto the front panel of his pants where his cock throbbed big and hard. Her nipples jerked like divining rods in the direction of his genitals at the same time the mouth of her pussy opened wide in ready invitation.

  “Give me the injection,” she said, extracting her hand from his grip. “And bring me the capsules.”

  With a definite pout, Alt left the room, returning about ten minutes later with a syringe, disinfecting swabs and three of the antidote capsules. Sliding it out of the fluffy white robe he’d given her to wear, Daisy offered him her arm. She watched with a professional interest as he thoroughly disinfected the spot where he would inject her, and how he carefully raised the vein then smoothly inserted the needle without her experiencing so much as the sensation of being pricked or pinched.

  “The observations would have far more clinical value without the capsules interfering.”

  “Oh, is that what’s upsetting you?” she asked, half playful, half concerned. “That my desire for informed consent is interfering with your experiment?”

  He bit at that thick bottom lip, his gaze a challenging blue. Without directly answering her question, he looped his hand through Daisy’s ash brown hair and pulled her close. “I’m going to spank you later.”

  Her heart did a little back flip, that damn tickle resurfacing so that her lungs ceased to work.

  “Water,” she rasped, reaching for one of the capsules.

  Alt chuckled at her distress but quickly retrieved a fresh, chilled bottle.

  “I’m trying to decide,” he teased as she dissolved the full capsule in the bottle. “Whether to spank you before or after the milk bath. There are pros and cons for each scenario.”

  Milk bath? Spanking?

  Letting the threat weave its way into Daisy’s thoughts, Alt stood and went around his desk. Opening the top right drawer, he pulled out more swabs and a second syringe. Rolling up his sleeve, he cleaned the spot then plunged the needle into his skin. Finished, he pulled out a computer tablet from the middle drawer, powered it up and typed in his access code.

  “I hope you read fast,” he said, sliding the tablet across the desk then jabbing a finger at the remaining antidote pills. “Because I’m not taking one of those damn capsules.”

  Chapter Five

  Standing naked in Alt’s master bathroom as he filled the tub with hot water, Daisy tried to wrap her head around the research she had finished reading a few minutes prior.

  Thinking, however, was beyond difficult. The last capsule had worn off, warm milk dripped from her nipples and Alt was every bit as naked as she was, the head of his erection bobbing in the air like a snake scenting prey. Thinking was not what she wanted to be doing right then. Her eyes drifted shut, her mind picturing in bright detail what she wanted.

  Fucking, being fucked, riding that big cock, having his thick yet masculine lips latched onto one of her breasts and sucking—sucking hard. Fingers manipulating her breasts, squeezing milk from them, manipulating her pussy, slicking her thighs from how amazing everything felt.

  A quiver raced through her, the sensation biting at her nipples and clit.

  When she opened her eyes and looked at Alt, she found him studying her, his gaze sensuous and one hand stroking his cock.

  “Get in the tub,” he rasped, releasing his erection to hold the hand out as a steadying brace.

  Accepting the assistance, Daisy gingerly lifted one leg and stepped into the water. The tub was massive, bigger than anything she’d seen for a bathroom in any magazine or television show. She could have laid flat, floating, her arms extended and her fingertips would only barely graze the sides.

  “Hands and knees,” Alt ordered, sitting on the side of the tub.
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br />   She offered a side glance at him, her gaze questioning. The tub was not only long and wide, but deep, she’d have to keep her chin held high if she did as ordered if she didn’t want to gulp in water.

  “Hands and knees,” he repeated, his tone uncompromising and his face narrowing.

  Heat sizzled through her in response to the stern look. She should have been telling him to go jump off the roof of his million dollar penthouse, but the chemicals zipping through her body had different ideas. She sank down in compliance.

  Pheromones — that was part of it. But humans weren’t known to have sex pheromones, no matter what perfume and similar companies tried to convince gullible buyers. There had been tantalizing studies done with Androstenone, but actual human pheromones had never been isolated.

  Until the Pharmalten trial.

  And now her body was going crazy.

  “Ass up,” Alt growled.

  She sighed, finding the growl sexy when it should have been infuriating. She lifted her ass, the position combined with keeping her chin lifted forcing a deep downward curve in her spine, her shoulders flaring back and her breasts weighted with fresh milk hanging heavy in the water.

  The drag was exquisite. Neck straining with effort, her lips parted, Alt surprising her by sliding a finger into her mouth. She closed around it, sucking, tongue swirling, her body rocking back and forth to create waves that glossed against her skin.

  His free hand followed the curve of her ass, down the cleavage of her full bottom, skating over her perineum to penetrate her pussy with thick fingers. She groaned around the digit in her mouth. The hot water and downward pull on her breasts had milk leaking from her in a steady, heavy drip. She could smell it in the water, its delicate, subtle odor mixing with the more pungent, musky smells of her aroused pussy.

  She moaned again, muscles gripping at the fingers invading her sex.