The Big O (An OTT Insta-love STANDALONE)

by Nelle L'Amour

  Stepping on my tippy-toes, I flung my arms around his broad shoulders, jumping up and down like a kid in a candy shop. Donut King was my candy shop. I so loved Donut King donuts and couldn’t get my fill of them. I felt the same way about the Donut King himself. I loved him and couldn’t get my fill of him. An orgasmic rush of happiness filled every crevice of my being.

  A huge ear-to-ear grin spread on Owen’s face as I smacked a kiss on his lips; wearing his mother’s vintage platforms made them easier to reach. “Oh, Owen! You’ve taken me for donuts!”

  “This is the original Donut King shop. The one my father opened in the fifties. The one that started it all.”

  I glanced up at the big neon sign and it indeed mentioned it was the original. The words “Serving fresh donuts since 1959” flashed beneath the big pink donut. I was in awe as Owen continued, remorse creeping into his deep voice.

  “Sadly, we may have to close it down as business has been terrible. The Starbeans next door is killing us.”

  My eyes shifted to his competition and the long line of people waiting for its doors to open. The Donut King was already open for business, but there wasn’t a soul inside. My heart ached for Owen as he escorted me inside the deserted store.

  It looked like all the other Donut Kings I’d been too. It had a funky retro feel to it that was fun and uplifting. The color scheme took its inspiration from a pink frosted sprinkled donut—mint green, hot pink, aqua, and chocolate brown. Though there were several fifties-styled booths for dining-in, a see-thru glass case dominated the cozy space in which trays of neatly arranged, mouth-watering donuts in all varieties were arranged in rows. It didn’t look like a single donut had been purchased. Behind the glass counter was another counter with coffee machines, napkins, cups, and paper bags. The tantalizing aroma of the freshly baked donuts and coffee made me giddy.

  From a backroom, a buxom redheaded woman who looked to be in her early sixties, emerged. She was wearing a short-sleeved pink dress with a white apron bearing the company logo and was carrying a large tray of freshly baked glazed donuts. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of Owen.

  “Owen! How wonderful to see you!”

  “Good morning, Marge.” Owen seemed equally glad to see her. The sadness in his eyes gave way to a cheerful glint.

  “Can I offer you a donut?” she asked as she set the tray inside the counter next to the others. “They’re fresh out of the fryer and still warm.”

  “Yes, and a cup of coffee with extra cream and sugar. Make that two of each.”

  Owen introduced us. I soon found out that Marge was his mother’s best friend and had been working at this location since the store’s opening. With her crinkly but vibrant toffee eyes and her deep, husky voice, there was a warmth to her that I found instantly appealing. Owen was obviously very comfortable around her and introduced me as his girlfriend.

  While I felt myself flushing the color of a pink frosted donut, a warm smile lit up Marge’s face.

  “So nice to meet you, Olive. It’s about time Owen settled down.” Her twinkling eyes darted to my dashing companion. “And young man, you look like you’ve picked a winner. Not only is she beautiful, but there’s something about her that reminds me of your mother.”

  Owen wrapped a brawny arm around my shoulders. “Yeah. She’s special. A keeper for sure.”

  I was tingly all over as Marge readied our order. “Will you be staying or taking it to go?”

  Owen glanced down at his watch. “We’d love to stay, Marge, but we’re short on time. I have to get into the office. We’re doing a new commercial and have a full day of casting. Thanks to my princess, we’ve come up with a whole new marketing strategy.” He gave me a little squeeze. “Fingers crossed it’s going to turn things around.”

  Marge sighed. “From your lips to God’s ears. Business has been terrible.”

  Owen shot her a wink. “Hang in there, Marge. I’ve got a good feeling about things.”

  With a hopeful smile, Marge handed us our donuts in small paper bags along with the steamy hot coffees in paper cups. I could feel the warmth of the donut right through the bag and the aroma was intoxicating. We exchanged goodbyes and headed out the door. The line for the Starbeans had doubled.

  “Fuck Starbeans,” I heard Owen mumble under his breath.

  “Wait just a second,” I murmured, coming to a standstill.

  I hadn’t had breakfast and I was starving. Unable to resist, I took the warm donut out of the bag and bit into it.

  “Oh. My. God,” I moaned as the sweet dough melted into my mouth. I’d never had a donut straight out of the fryer. As much as I as loved Donut King donuts, none had ever compared to this. I think I had gone to heaven and come back. After swallowing, I took another big bite.

  “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!” I screamed out, licking the sweetness of the glaze off my upper lip, my eyes half-shut as I savored the divine pastry. Pure ecstasy!

  Suddenly, I felt all eyes on me. I heard a chorus of “huhs” from the Starbeans customers.

  “What are you eating?” asked the woman closest to me.

  I took one more giant bite and savored it in my mouth. More moans spilled from my lips.

  “A freshly made glazed donut,” I managed, the scrumptious warm dough still in my mouth. I took a sip of my coffee to wash it down. “It’s unbelievable.” I took another sip of the steaming hot beverage. “And this coffee is SOOOOOO good!”

  “Screw Starbeans. I’ve had it with waiting in line for the damn store to open.” She stalked off, heading right into Donut King.

  To my utter amazement, she wasn’t alone. One by one, the Starbeans customers left the long line and followed suit until there were only a few people left.

  “Holy shit!” exclaimed Owen. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” He hooked his arm into mine. “C’mon, princess. We need to help, Marge. She’ll never be able to handle this crowd all by herself.”

  Five minutes later, I was behind the counter serving coffee while Marge dished out donuts from the counter to eager salivating customers and Owen rang up the orders at the cash register. Many were ordering boxfuls, and every variety was disappearing off the shelves. While most did take out, every table in the place was full, with some waiting patiently to sit down.

  “How are you doing, hun?” asked Marge as she arranged a dozen donuts into a box.

  “I’m good,” I replied, putting a lid on another coffee. My waitressing experience, in fact, made me a pro. Not only was I quick, but I was also loving every minute of serving customers and putting big smiles on their faces.

  Marge laughed. “I don’t know what just happened. It’s like a hurricane drove them in.”

  “I know what just happened,” chimed in Owen. There was a huge grin on his face. My heart thundered at the sight of him. His jacket off and sleeves rolled up, he looked so sinfully adorable in his Donut King apron. And oh so deliciously sexy.

  “Marge, you don’t have to worry about your job. In fact, I want you to put a big sign up on the window: ‘Help wanted. No experience needed.’ The only qualification they need is that they must love our donuts.”

  “Yesiree!” replied an elated Marge.

  “I love your donuts and am looking for a job to pay my way through college,” said a thin nerdy type, who looked to be my age. Maybe a little younger. He’d obviously overheard the conversation.

  Owen gave him the once over. “What’s your name?”

  “Nathan.”

  “What’s your favorite donut?”

  “Can I pick three?”

  “You’re hired, kid. Get to work!”

  “Cool beans,” said Nathan, consuming his donut in almost one bite as he jogged around the counter to help out. Marge told him to wash his hands first, and in no time, was instructing him what to do. The two of them seemed to hit it off immediately, and in no time, he was affectionately calling her “mom.”

  We were operating like a well-oiled machine. In the short time I’d known Owen, I’d
never seen him happier. No one recognized him from his television commercials because he looked so different on TV with his fake full beard, gold crown, and padding. One woman, however, finally did.

  “You’re the Donut King from TV!” she exclaimed as she handed him her credit card.

  “Yup,” said a blushing Owen as he processed her payment.

  “Well, you tell whoever invented these donuts that they put the O back into donuts! They’re out of this world good. I’m bringing a box of them to my office for all my co-workers.”

  “I will.” With a big smile, he handed her a receipt. “Thank you. I hope your colleagues equally enjoy them.”

  This big, arrogant man could be so sweet and humble. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and hug him, but I was too busy. The pace hadn’t slowed down.

  Finally, Owen caught a break and, to my total unexpected delight, he wrapped his arms around me from behind and, parting my hair, blew a warm breath on my neck. The sensation made my skin prickle, and I almost spilled the coffee I was pouring.

  “You know what I’m thinking, Olive?” he whispered in my ear.

  “No,” I said innocently as he nuzzled my earlobe and drew me into him. I could feel a hard bulge against my backside. The tingles I’d felt earlier came back to me so forcefully my toes curled.

  “I’m thinking I’d like to undress you and lay you out on the counter, decorate you with donuts, and devour you.”

  “Oh!” I squeaked out.

  “Jesus, Olive. Every time you say that word, no matter how loud or soft, you drive me crazy. How am I going to get through my workday without having you? I think my cock just grew a mouth and it’s watering for you.”

  Well, something else was definitely watering. My pussy! I was so soaking wet my thighs were sticking. Maybe I shouldn’t have made him agree to abstinence in the office. It was going to be just as hard for me to get through the day without having him between my legs or in my mouth. I wanted him so badly. I was just going to have to use my imagination. The vision of me lying naked with donuts all over me filled my head and in my mind’s eye, I could see him playing with pink sprinkled donuts around my nipples, sucking my buds right through the holes as he dusted a powdered sugar one all over me. Only yesterday, I was a virgin who was clueless about sex and now I knew how to pleasure a sex god and was having kinky fantasies. As he rocked his hips against me, my arousal poured through me, heating up every molecule of my body. I let out a little gasp.

  An unexpected voice brought our embrace to an abrupt end. Nathan.

  “Excuse me, sir. There’s a customer wishing to pay up at the register.”

  “Um uh, right,” stammered Owen, breaking away from me and blushing once again. Equally embarrassed, I cast my eyes down at his crotch. The gabardine fabric had molded into a ginormous tent. I chuckled silently. Yes, he was definitely going to have a hard time keeping his pants on today.

  The power of donuts was a curious thing.

  We got to the office at ten o’clock. It took almost three hours until the crowd at Donut King died down. Truthfully, it was the most fun I’d had in years. I hadn’t been behind the counter of one of our shops since I was a kid. I used to love to help my parents out after school and on weekends. I always knew I’d one day turn their mom and pop shop into an empire. Donut King would rule the world.

  In the car, Marge called me and told me she’d sold out. Holy shit! That hadn’t happened in a decade. Most of the time, she was stuck with trays of donuts, which we donated at the end of the day to homeless shelters around the city. While it was a good write off, it certainly wasn’t good for our bottom line. But if my hunch was right, things were going to turn around. I just hoped in time. My creditors were hounding me, especially Mallory’s father, Burton. I had a big balloon payment coming up and I didn’t know how I was going to pay it. We were operating in the red and if we missed the payment, the stock would for sure crash and we might go out of business. Fingers crossed Jaime Zander’s sexy new advertising campaign would turn things around big time.

  But if it worked, he wasn’t the first person I’d be beholden to. My first and biggest thanks of all belonged to my Olive. She had walked into my life and rocked my world. It was virtually impossible to think of anyone or anything else with her sitting outside my door in my mother’s stunning donut-print dress that brought out all her lush curves and her pink glow. I fantasized seducing her, slowly pulling down the zipper, revealing the soft flesh of her back inch by sweet inch, and then sliding it off her until she was in my arms dressed only in her silk underwear and platform heels. Impulsively, I buried my face in the vase of roses Olive had picked for me. Their fragrant scent wafted up my nose as I inhaled them. It made me crazy with lust, the petals reminding me of her beautiful pussy which I’d deflowered only yesterday. How could I sit here with my raging hard-on and not fuck her over my desk? My earlier fantasy, the one in the shower, flashed into my head as I eyed the donut-flavored lubricant that sat on my desk. Fuck. If was going to get any work done, I was going to have to toss it because I’d be thinking of fucking her senseless every which way if I didn’t.

  As I reached for it, the clack of footsteps distracted me. I looked up. It was Clint, dressed for a change in a lemony suit with a pencil skirt that exposed her sinewy legs and an open jacket that revealed her small tits brushing against her blouse. She had the body of a runner, lean and so taut it looked like it could snap in half…so unlike the soft lush curves of my beautiful Olive that I just wanted to sink my cock into. Lifting her glasses on top of her head, she screwed up her face and glowered at me.

  “Where the hell have you been?” she snapped. “Jaime Zander and his team have been here since eight o’clock.”

  “Why didn’t you call or email me?” And watch your fucking mouth.

  “I accidentally left my cell phone home. And I didn’t have the time to keep running to my office as I had to entertain the hoard of actresses, who are auditioning for the spot and lined up outside your conference room.” She paused, her eyes shooting daggers my way. “Something you new ‘assistant’ should have been doing, not me! That fat pig deserves to be fired!”

  Rage bubbled in my blood. It took all I had not to throw her out my office. The words, “You’re fired,” were on the tip of my tongue, but I gritted my teeth to hold them back. I couldn’t afford to fire my insolent marketing head right now with so much riding on the line. Clenching my fists so hard my knuckles turned white, I shot eye daggers back at her.

  “Don’t you ever again say something nasty about my Olive.” My voice rose with every word.

  “Did you call me, sir?” came a sweet voice at the doorway. My eyes shifted from the thorn in my side to the love of my life.

  “Olive,” I breathed out, my voice softening. “Grab your notebook. I want you to attend the casting session with me.”

  Clint shot me a scathing look and then one at Olive. Without saying another word, she stormed out of my office right past her. I swear I heard her call Olive a whore under her breath, but maybe it was just a huff. I let it go, melted by the sight of the woman of my dreams. Man, I wanted to fuck her, but I couldn’t afford to let Jaime and his team wait any longer. And I promised I wouldn’t. Rules were meant to be broken, but promises were sacred.

  I thought the casting session would never end. I glanced at my watch. It was now going on seven o’clock. I’d lost count of how many women I’d seen try out for the part of The Big O Girl. I turned to Olive who was taking notes and keeping track. She told me this was number 220, the last girl we were seeing. Fuck. I’d seen over two hundred girls and not one cut it. Hopefully, this one would.

  The problem was that all the girls auditioning for this coveted role were cookie-cutter wafer-thin starlets or models, who’d probably never eaten a donut in their lives. They reminded me of some of my stuck-up skin and bones hook-ups, who I never wanted to see again. Women with no substance either mentally or physically. Donut King was a down-to-earth brand, and despite th
e sexy direction our new marketing campaign was taking, I needed a down-to-earth spokesperson to sell our donuts. That I knew for sure. We were not selling sex, but dreams.

  Feeling somewhat despondent (and partially because I hadn’t been able to get to my safety deposit box to retrieve my mother’s ring), I told Jaime’s assistant to hold off on sending the last girl in. I needed some questions answered first.

  “Jaime, where’d you get all these girls?”

  “We put out a major casting call yesterday right after our meeting, using the specifications your marketing director Mallory gave to us.”

  While Mallory smirked, the muscles behind my eyes tensed. “And what exactly were they?”

  “At least five-nine. Under a hundred twenty pounds. Big tits even if surgically enhanced. Previous major modeling experience required. Thanks to my wife, I was able to convince some Gloria’s Secret models to try out for the part.”

  Fuck. And fuck Clint. That was so not my image of The Big O Girl. She needed to be hefty and wholesome—exude sugary goodness. Someone who could sell both donuts and dreams. Really have an orgasmic experience when she bit into a donut. Maybe this last auditioner would.

  “Send in the last girl,” I told Jaime’s energetic assistant. Fingers crossed she would cut it.

  I inhaled a deep breath as she entered the room. My heart sank. She was more of the same. No different from the others. A skinny bottle-blond Amazon with head to toe surgical enhancements. To most men, she might have been a wet dream, but to me she was as bland as toast without jam. I quickly read over her headshot vitals. Great. Her last big job was doing an infomercial for a dietary supplement that was guaranteed to make you lose pounds fast. Something told me this girl wasn’t even capable of a Big O and probably faked all her orgasms.