A laugh escapes my pursed lips. “Frank, you know I make no excuses. That’s just how I’m wired and I’m not going to fucking change for anyone.”
We shoot the breeze for a couple minutes before Frank hangs up. Filling my lungs with air, I bow it out up into the air.
The internet paints me as some sort of a bad boy; a billionaire playboy, but the fact is I don’t believe in emotional attachments. To me it’s all a game. The thrill is in the hunt. I see a woman I want and I hunt her mercilessly, until I have her. Then, when the thrill wears off, I start hunting again, for someone else who tickles my fancy.
There are three things that really matter to me in life. One is money…lots and lots of money. The second is power. I like having power over men in business and women in bed. The third is that sweet, inviting spot between a woman’s legs.
I don’t let emotion get in my way. Emotional attachment is for wimps.
***
I grab my case and head through the door of my New York headquarters. As I have said, I don’t like New York, but since here and London are the two biggest financial centers in the world, and I have to visit often enough, I ended up buying real estate and setting up offices in both.
My ever present bodyguards Leonardo and Jeffrey, as usual, discreetly walk a few feet behind me. They know just how to blend into the shadows, and I never have to watch my back. I know they are always there if ever I need them.
A man like me has many enemies, some I am not even aware of. I have broken up too many companies and pissed off the former employees; slept with too many wives and won too many poker games, not to have a host of people who would rather see me dead, or worse, bankrupt.
It’s a nice sunny day outside and I am walking briskly toward my business appointment a few blocks away. Then boom, out of nowhere, this young woman comes crashing into me. The force of her impact against my bulky frame sends her sprawling to the pavement.
Poor little thing, she picked the wrong man to bump into today.
I am about to offer an apology, even though I’m not at fault, when I peer down on the pavement into the most beautiful eyes imaginable. They are grey and cat-like, almost hypnotic in appearance. I mean the kind of eyes a man would want to wake up and just stare into every morning.
She mumbles an apology and I offer my hand and quickly pull her off the ground. Now that I am able to get a good look at her, I do a double take. She is a looker.
This one is fine as hell. Girl, you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen and trust me I have seen many.
She is tall and has meat on her bones, but sensuously curvy and the face of a Miss Universe Pageant contestant. I mean a big, beautiful young woman, with a small waist for her size, broad hips and a round, fucking ass that must be causing many men to be jacking off at nights just imaging their dick wedged between those butt cheeks.
To make matters worse she has these bee-stung lips, and all I can think of are those lips curling around my cock and sucking me off. Shit, I can feel the canon unfurling in my boxers pressing against my zipper.
Her seductive eyes flicker apologetically at me, like a little puppy that has lost its master. For a moment, I am lost in them.
This girl makes my chest tight, my heart careen in my chest.
She is fucking impossible to believe.
In my thirty-one years in existence, I can’t remember a woman making such a first impression.
She apologizes profusely and says her name is Riley… Riley Hamilton.
Riley, even her name is fucking cute.
She is a plus size model and late for an assignment, but I can’t let this creature from outer space just disappear like that, so I offer her my business card.
Riley accepts my card and hurries off to her casting call and I stand for a minute, looking at her sexy ass sashaying along the Manhattan streets. Then, she looks back and notices me staring. She blushes, turns and disappears into the throng of pedestrians.
This must be my lucky day. I like what I see.
Shaking off the cobwebs from my brain, I speed along to my appointment, but my mind keeps coming back to Riley.
The scent of her perfume.
The color of her eyes.
The way she looked at me.
Suddenly, I feel a hunt coming along.
I think I want this one.
CHAPTER 3
Riley
I scamper along the busy Manhattan streets in my best Usain Bolt impersonation and end up being a few minutes early for my casting.
“Phew.” I let out a sigh of relief. There is no way I wanted to be late for my first modeling experience.
The casting is being held in an imposing office building in downtown Manhattan. With my heart in my mouth, I push open the large door and hands my rather thin portfolio to the smiling receptionist who politely ushers me inside.
I am a bit embarrassed because I am sure most of the other plus size models have much more imposing credentials. If you know me though, that still does nothing to damper my confidence. I am that kind of a girl.
There are a few other models already sitting inside the waiting area. All perfectly coiffed and made up..
In case you weren’t aware, many beautiful women are, well let’s just say, very insecure. They eye each other, pick out flaws and make mental criticisms. We are really funny creatures if you ask me.
I give my competitors the once over. “No threat,” I whisper to myself, trying to pump up my confidence.
You see, if nothing else, I am a very confident young woman. Sometimes it gets me into trouble, but I have never doubted myself, my looks or my abilities. I always examine myself objectively and I know I possess the looks and the body to be a plus size model.
I can feel the eyes of the other girls on me as I enter, but pretend not to notice. I have gotten used to the stares that comes with having such a thick and curvy body.
This “Go See” is for a major international sporting line which is looking to launch its new spring collection and wants to enter the plus size market, but they want some fresh, new faces, not the usual plus size crowd, hence the call for models like me.
It’s a major gig and though I am still raw, the agency felt it would be a good experience for me to do the casting, even if I don’t get the job. They told me not to get my hopes up too high, but just to do my best and gather the experience.
Experience my ass. I want this.
I am gonna blow them away.
About an hour passes when I finally get my call. It’s now my turn to meet with the casting crew.
Bring it on Riley. Bring it on.
I am shepherded onto what appears to be a large studio set up, with cameras, lights and loads of clothing racks.
“Hi, I’m Jonathan.” A rail-thin man who appears to be his late twenties, offers me his hand.
“A pleasure to meet you, Jonathan. I am Riley”.
I can feel the adrenaline pumping in my chest, but funny enough I am not nervous. I am on a positive high. I was born for this.
His hands are soft, but firm and welcoming. Jonathan quickly scans through my portfolio, pausing to nod here and there, mumbling to himself and then returns his gaze toward me.
He proceeds to examine every inch of my face and body before going over to the photographer. The two engage in animated conversation for a few minutes. I watch them exchange fervent glances in my direction and I detect a sense of excitement in their rather lively discussion.
Don’t get ahead of yourself, girl.
Jonathan eventually strolls back over to me.
“I like your look, Riley. You are a very striking girl. Now, let’s see if our cameras love you as much as we do.”
My heart is racing, but I try not to show the excitement coursing through my veins.
Keep it steady, Riley. Stay even keel.
“Look, we are going to take some test shots of you in a few of pieces from the collection. Just act natural and do your thing,” Jonathan says.
What follow next is thirty of the most fascinating minutes of my life. It is one thing to be doing photographs for a portfolio, but it’s almost orgasmic for me to be posing with a photographer for the first time, while trying to land a modeling job. This is what I have always dreamt about as a little girl growing up in my small town and it’s everything I thought it would be… and more, much more.
Riley, you were born for this.
I am in prime form today. I rock all the angles and remember tips that my modeling coaches taught me at the agency, along with some of my very own signature poses. I may not have had sex in real life, but I pretend I am making love to the camera.
What camera? Stop fooling yourself, Riley. You are pretending you’re making love to that hunk Ethan.
Yes, I’m looking into the lens, but imagining it’s Ethan’s blue, brooding eyes. My body is twirling to his command.
My goodness, I can’t seem to get this guy outta my mind.
I have never been so turned on by a man I just met, in my entire life.
There is silence in the room, save for the click of the camera and the voice of the photographer shouting instructions. The director wants young and hip… the kind of “you got to wear me look” and that is just what I’m giving him.
Throughout the shoot, I notice the look of amazement and pleasure on the faces of Jonathan and his team. This causes me to pump up the volume of my performance even more.
This is a big contract and I want it. Hell yes, I want it.
The final section is for me to model a pair of sexy jeans shorts. This one I particularly relish. I know my long legs, too-tiny-for-a-curvy-woman waist and my ass are my best assets and as I put on the shorts and look in the mirror, I smile for the first time since starting the shoot. Damn it, I look dynamite in the design.
The shorts segment is a wow factor for me and when the director finally yells for a wrap, Jonathan seems all beside himself with excitement.
Shooting now wrapped up, I am greeted by an enthusiastic Jonathan who introduces me to Carter, the main designer for the clients “Playa”.
“You model like a real pro, baby,” Carter gushes. “I haven’t seen your portfolio, so tell me, what kind of experience do you have?”
“I have none. This is my first casting,” I reply confidently. I am shaking in my boots, but show no signs of it on the outside. I know I have done well, but it seems my lack of experience is going to haunt me today.
Carter lets out a low whistle. “I never would have guessed. Tell me about your background… and gosh, I’m excited here baby…what’s your personality like?”
“I am just a small town girl and what you see is what you get.” I manage a seductive smile. “Let’s just say my personality can be summed up in one word… big.”
Carter cracks up.
“Well said, girl. What do you think of the Playa designs? Are they something a young, hip girl like you would wear?”
I am no fool. I have a pretty good head on my shoulders and had read up as much as I could about Carter and his style, so I’m able to make some interesting observations about his clothing.
Carter and Jonathan seem rather pleased at my answers and both shake hands with me before departing to handle other models.
I dress and let myself out. I am so freaking excited.
Man, this is the life. If sex is anything like this, I can’t wait to have Mr. Right screw me.
Outside the building, with the cool evening breeze smacking me in the face, a feeling of euphoria washes through my core.
I jump and punch the air.
If this is what modeling is like, there is nothing else in life I want to do. This is the shit.
CHAPTER 4
Ethan
Her lips are curled around my thick, hard cock and she is sucking as if her life depends on it. Her sister is kissing my chest, running her velvet-like tongue up and down like a vibrator. Her teeth slip and graze the head of my rigid shaft.
“Take it fucking easy, doll.” I give her an evil stare. I resist the urge to shove my prick down her throat as punishment for almost biting my tool, but her lips are so fucking soft and succulent and save her from a deep gagging.
Lying on my back, looking down at the twins making love to me, is like looking into a darn mirror. They are identical, both with long blonde hair, bountiful breasts and taut nipples. Just the kind of bodies I like.
Sex to me has never been about personal pleasure. Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy having an orgasm, but the thrill is dominating a woman, leaving her helpless and asking for more as I fuck her silly.
These girls are darn talented and the first set of identical twins I have ever taken to bed. But, they have done their bit, enough of the messing around, it’s time for me to take over and lay some dick on them.
I know their names are Joan and Johanna, but for the life of me I can’t tell them apart, so I won’t even try.
Grabbing the back of twin number one’s head, I shove my prick further down her throat. She gags slightly, but hangs in there like a trooper. I like that. Score a point for her.
Number two has some great nipples. I curl my fingers around them and squeeze hard. She winces, but grunts in satisfaction.
“Stop,” I command.
The twins reluctantly cease their pleasuring and look up at me.
“Lie on your backs, both of you.”
Like obedient puppies, both lay back sprawling.
What a scene I see unfolding before me. They are both clean shaven, save for identical landing strips on their Mounds of Venus.
Can’t wait to land by big prick on those strips and watch them squeal.
I slither over to number one and run my tongue between her legs. Her body shivers in anticipation. My tongue gently brushes her clit and she moans. I feel her moisture coating my tongue and I lick faster and faster. Her thighs clench around my head as my tongue slides inside her, working her open, lashing her and driving her wild. Her body shakes uncontrollably as if she is going to pass out.
My finger slips into her twin and I proceed to gently probe her insides. She is gushing like a stream.
I take turns fucking both of them with my tongue. My passion rises as they moan and groan.
“Both of you, get off the bed… stand at the side and bend over,” I command, again.
They reluctantly jump up and do my bidding, saddened no doubt at the loss of my tongue just as they were about to orgasm.
My monster uncoils from its lair, as the twins both spread their legs, giving me ample access to the inviting space between their legs.
I rub the head of my prick against number one’s pussy, while my hands explore the roundness of ass. She backs up against me, allowing me to sink deep into her. She lets out a sigh, as my cock disappears between her legs. I grab her ass cheeks and fuck her hard, spearing into her until she starts screaming all manner of unintelligible sentences. With each stroke of my cock, I slap her ass, until she goes crazy.
“Oh, my god Ethan…you are going to fucking kill me. But don’t stop,” she grunts. I spank her harder and drive into her again and again. Just as she is about to cum, I pull out and enter her twin sister.
“Put it back in,” she begs.
“Who the fuck are you telling what to do?” I bark at her. “Shut the fuck up and let me fuck your sister.”
There are no further words from her. Bitch knows when to shut the fuck up.
Number two is wet and steaming and I bang her from behind. She is a screamer and I love a woman who screams when she is being screwed. That sets me off big time.
I don’t spank this twin. I reach down and clasp my hands around her neck while I fuck her. She chokes, but I grip her tighter. She screams louder, a mixture of pleasure and pain.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” she grunts, barely able to speak as my hands tighten around her neck. Her eyes begin to pop out of her head. She is almost losing consciousness.
Yes, I am a bad bo
y. I am fascinated with death, or being close to death. I love choking a woman while I am fucking her, until she is literally lifeless. There are just a few other feelings to compare with holding her life in my hands and at the same time having the power to make her orgasm.
I feel number two’s body contracting on my prick and I know she is about to blow her stack. I release one hand and pinch her jugular, the most erotic vein on a woman’s body. She explodes, bathing my cock with her love juice.
I reach over and furiously finger her sister, until she too orgasms.
Two women coming for me at the same time…one almost to the point of death, what more could a man ask for in life?
I pull out of number two and flop on the bed. I have no need to orgasm. I don’t often do, unless it’s with a special girl.
“Out,” I command once again and the beautiful twins gather their clothes and retreat into the adjoining bedroom.
I sigh and stretch out on my massive king-sized bed, in my penthouse apartment high above the city…somewhere in the clouds. Sweat glistens off my massive body. I suck in air, until my breathing slowly returns to some semblance of normality.
This is what life is all about…living on the edge.
Suddenly, however, for some strange reason, my mind drifts to the silly girl I had bumped into today.
Damn, she was beautiful.
The thought of her sends a surge through my loins.
Something is happening here. Maybe I need to see her again.
Yeah, I want to see Riley again and look into those gorgeous cat-eyes.
CHAPTER 5
Riley
It’s a long walk home, but I am not in the mood to take a taxi or ride the subway.
Feeling more alive than I have ever been in my entire life, I take out my cell phone and dial Alex’s number which he answers after a few rings.
His Prize Model (A BBW Romance) Page 2