Perfect Game: A Single Mom & Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Amy J. Wylder

  “I’m going to come and get you tomorrow evening”

  “No”

  “I’ll be here by nine.”

  “I said …” I took one look at that face of his and my body gave in. “Show me a night to remember then playboy.”

  …

  I was ready to take off my red dress with some padding in the bra and six-inch heels. Can’t let Mr. Playboy see me full dressed.

  Claire offered to babysit for me, and I asked her. “Why are you giving me every opportunity to see a man who doesn’t want anything to do with kids?”

  “Because I’ve never seen you get ready so quickly before? And you look very sexy tonight. He’s going to be a very happy man.”

  “A complicated man. What can make somebody like that happy?” Then

  “A good woman” -

  “Not me. He has his past. And I have mine”

  “Why are you saying that with such a cheery face? Most people have to be depleted and upset.”

  “I’m trying a new tactic: smiling even when I’m close to grey hairs.”

  “Tonight, is your chance to get to know him a little better.”

  Me and Jonathan ended up soaring in his mazda on the main roads and through green lights with stories to tell. “All I want, is a woman of the night.” I sniggered and patted my palm against the body of his painfully shiny mazda as he drove. I didn’t want to fingerprint the work.

  “You can have anything you want. It’s just a pity you don’t want kids” –

  “I don’t know. Women use their kids against me and I don’t think it’s right!” He yelled. “Not saying you”

  “It’s only the second date. I can’t make no promises.”

  He grinned, then placed on the radio and the Beatles blasted back at us. “So, it’s a date?” He seemed to accelerate the speed and I fastened my seat belt. “It scares me that we are connecting so soon since my ex … I knew you were a fast mover deep down.”

  “And I know you’re more than just the google results I find often cropping up. I think you play up to an image?”

  “Nah. I got lucky. And met you when I needed a refreshing experience.”

  I took offence, “I’m not an experience. Keep learning about me playboy. Your money is only half of what interests me about you.”

  “Then let me spend a little on you. I say we should rent a limo? I got more than seven bottles of champagne in the back.”

  “Oh my God. Are we going to drink all that?”

  “Nope. We are going to go swimming with them.” He smiled. I returned a flirty wink and a flash of my bare shoulder underneath the cardigan. And I forgot that still, this wealthy fitness instructor was not keen on potentially getting to know my daughter. But since my ex-husband … I just needed to breathe. And that’s what drove me deeper into mine and Jonathan’s attraction.

  And then we arrived, after hitting miles-per-Jonathan and ending up renting a limo and parking it near to where he had a boat that he was renting on weekends. “Me and you are going to get on my super yacht this Saturday. Part-time rental.”

  “It’s mine and Marie day.”

  We got into the limo before he says, “bring her.” He hadn’t realized Marie was the name of my daughter. And I didn’t care to tell him.

  “And my friend Steven”

  “Bring your whole workplace. I want to have a good time. Get over the past!” He screamed out; “come on get in! This champagne won’t open itself.”

  After the teasing and rubbing against each other, I started undoing his shirt in the back seat as Jonathan arose to open the sunroof before I dragged him down and reeled him in for a sloppy kiss that I never knew I had within me. I was letting go. And it felt awesome!

  The kiss was so sloppy that we laughed and released the champagne cork that hit the car - roof and spilt all over the well-padded leather-black seats. Jonathan laughed hysterically as the fizz slipped all over as I held the bottle upwards and poured it down our closed gullets. We were wasting champagne bottle worth more than a five-thousand-car. And we weren’t even consuming any alcohol.

  Jonathan clumsily fumbled to open my shirt buttons that seemed unwilling to budge – so I slapped his hand away playfully and passed another champagne bottle. He poured it down his throat like a waterfall and then doused some all over mine and his head - before he dispensed it all onto the street with the words, “this is how you have a good time!”

  “Pour some … no wait!” I was in stiches at how close we were becoming drenched in such a short time. I shed tears of joy, and Jonathan pulled me into an embrace - but let go saying, “you’re not Taylor reincarnated, are you?”

  “Who’s that? But I didn’t give him time to answer, and pulled Jonathan in again, “Are we going to have sex?” I kissed him until we both tasted the others breathe. Then came the scrambled fingers to take off his shirt in haste! And we kissed enthusiastically until the buttons gave way.

  I reached the last button but struggled to get Jonathan’s arms out of the shirt. He tried to help me the best way he could, but only ended up tangling himself until I had to climb over to pull-it from various areas from the back. After a couple of tugs, Jonathan pushed himself forward so that my efforts weren’t exhausted.

  “One more tug!” I chuckled and gave the shirt one more pull and it came off, with Jonathan now shirtless and bearing his torso. Lap sitting time commenced, with my aroused eagerness being carried onto the middle seat by Jon so I could playfully ride his crotch with his trousers on whilst I eased myself on top.

  We made – out a little better than before with our tongues hungrily circulating inside of the others with slip-outs that landed on the cheeks.

  As me and Jonathan went deeper down each other’s throats, he gently brought down the straps of my red dress and came to find a Victoria Secrets bra: with padding that sparkled in his eyes. It got me excitable, so I scrambled Jonathan’s hair until it became completely dishevelled. Then lowered both hands to unbutton his belt buckle - while Jonathan pulled my shirt down until he could see my bare chest and arms.

  Jonathan then went for the bra - strap at the back while I messily leaned into him seeking a cuddle. His fingers managed to undo the first one as my left arm cupped his neck and I began to gyrate on his lap, while still being close to his chest. He unbuckled the next, and off came his belt that I got rid of and tossed to the side. “We won’t be needing that anymore.”

  “You better get rid of this bra to.”Jonathan slung the bra to the side and took one of his hands to support the clumsy squeeze of my breast - muscle whilst he sucked on the left nipple pleasingly. He did it in the same way a calf suckles on an udder: licking and sucking while I unbuttoned his trousers and slipped my hands down with a gently rub back-and-forth on his manhood that started to evolve from all the excitement.

  I could feel Jonathan’s tension as he groaned, so I flung my head back like a rodeo queen that jerked on his pogo – stick. He paid me back by moving from nipple to nipple with his tongue hanging out and having to catch me at the opportune moment because I was having too much fun.

  Then when the rodeo ride stopped, I bent forward as if to kneel in prayer in-between his legs and Jonathan knew that it was time to shift himself against the side of the door, so I could begin liposuction on his piece. I removed it all quickly: his ted baker trousers and then his Calvin boxers that fetch a pretty penny.

  Jonathan steadied himself as I pretended to drunkenly lift the champagne bottle and sucked the neck teasingly with a sensual delight that stirred his crotch into a sonar radar. He reached for my breast when I leaned in at a proximity exaggerating the moans as the bottle went deep into my throat.

  The thirst in him was surreal. To the point where he couldn’t take it anymore, so grabbed the bottle and flung it behind; handled both sides of my face and lowered it so I could swallow him whole. I wanted Jonathan to dictate the tempo of my personal vacuum - suction as his grip handled the head- bobbing-up-and-down like’s he’s slammed me ag
ainst a desk

  I sucked … Jonathan moaned … then came the eye-roll to the top of his head as I glimpsed and measured his pleasure factor: which displayed the sockets bursting widely with the whispered groans of; “hell – yeah, fuck - yeah!” That came repetitively in waves that left Jonathan close to breathlessness.

  He held my head just above the tip of his penis and glared seductively into my eyes while I worked on taking my skirt and Victoria secret undies off. Jonathan eyes this and started to rub his long – john with the same words; “hell – yeah, fuck – yeah” – then I lowered my neck and wound the window to create room to climb on top of him.

  Jonathan used his index finger to stimulate my clitoris as I got on top. I closed my eyes as the stimulation gradually started to build into small and sudden moans that could only be heard when Jonathan strained his ears.

  It aroused him, as Jonathan’s middle finger found it’s way into my vaginal opening and rubbed me there until my moans increased with volume. I got wetter and slid down his stripper pole: fixing myself into place whilst I gripped his broad shoulders and proceeded to look him in the eye as I ascended, and then came back to his lap.

  The car started to squeak like an annoying mouse as I rode the pole with dynamism to really flatten him onto the seat. We hollered with pleasure, and Jonathan hung onto the back of my neck as my head stuck out the car - window with my eyes closed.

  Jonathan came to the point of reaching his peak, as I felt the erupted tingle that caused his palm to press harder around my neck as we groaned in unison. The volume and tension elevated with the feeling of his hands that shook and lost control. But the moment diminished when I looked him in the eye and lost my breathe within our sweatiness and nudity.

  I climbed off, and Jonathan didn’t say a word as I brought my head back inside the limo. “I think,” he was breathless and flustered, “I should take you home as it’s almost 4 am?”

  “Sorry to stop. Just … my daughter must be taken to school in the morning. You can come and get me another night, if you like?” I hoped he would agree.

  “I think you read my mind.” We both got ready and analysed the mess we made before getting out and making out way to the mazda. Jonathan stopped, and I really wanted to go home.

  He stared at his yacht: white and navy-blue paintwork all over, 2 large cabins for guest, with an upper deck that could hold a small group of people, and an area where you could sunbathe at the front with two American flags on the side. This is what we were glued to at four in the morning.

  “Nice boat.”

  “Thanks. Not mine. Just renting. You hungry?”

  “A little peckish. But, we should go?”

  “Can I pick you up Friday?”

  “You’ll be seeing me Saturday.”

  “I know. I just … don’t think I can wait that long.”

  When Jonathan dropped me home, I was already half – way out the door wiping the evidence from the rims of my mouth because I looked like somebody who had something to hide. The neighbours would no doubt think I was up to no good. One curtain drew back to have a nosey. And that made me smile, because that neighbour said since my ex-husband I was never having fun anymore.

  Jonathan came out the car, and I kissed him on the cheek with a little touch-up of my chest area, so he could have a gawp. He drew me in and gave my ass a spank when I playfully ran away from him. But I avoided looking into his eyes, and Jonathan tried to get that pleasure from me: again, and again with a tight squeeze, but I just had to leave him wanting more before my cheeky grin and pounding heart had to disguise one vital thing: I had fallen to soon.

  Chapter 4

  Jonathan

  I couldn’t sleep. And I barely ate. Sandy avoided me with unanswered calls after I made my rounds with my busy schedule to try and take her out for dinner, lunch, breakfast, a cruise. Anything! I just wanted to be around her. But the next few days was full of excuses from Sandy closely spending time with her daughter. It was selfish of me, but I figured a night experienced in that limo needed to be repeated.

  Even to try and get Sandy’s number was a tough one. So, I resorted to a call or two when she was at the single mother’s fitness programme via their contact number. But she had been off sick and finding an excuse to pop-in was wasted on attempts from other women who offered to fill the void that Sandy seemed disinterested to complete. I had to laugh it off, and politely give them the cold shoulder.

  And after two weeks of not seeing Sandy, I did try and date a few women. But it never got anywhere because my guilt would not cease from preferring to take her out. And weeks passed as I spoke to fitness gurus, helped people get back into shape, and ran for a charitable cause. The money came in, and the offers to date me flocked. But all the time I would make it a habit to check on the single mother’s programme that would soon be coming to an end in three weeks. A lot of women had seen results when Jennifer sent me the memo on how well it was going.

  I needed to find a way to get Sandy onto that boat. And her friend Steven, who recently helped with training the mothers at the centre was a good start as we were on friendly terms. I parked up and got out, he was purchasing a coffee.

  “Jonathan Mains … what brings you out here?”

  “The fact that I don’t want you hearing my name on the telephone line anymore. You must think I’m a little too interested in Sandy?”

  “No. No. But … well … I have to do what the mother hen says.”

  “So that time I called, and she was sick …”

  Steven comically bit his lip. “She was sitting right next to me. I’m sure you heard her?”

  “I did.” I grinned. “And still I’m here asking if you both would come to a party tomorrow on my yacht as special guests?”

  “It’s Saturday, tomorrow right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Marie and Sandy day. She never breaks it for her baby.”

  “Oh. Marie is her daughter’s name?”

  “Yep. And I hear you aren’t a fan of kids?”

  “I don’t know. Sandy has got me wondering if that’s the reason why she won’t answer my calls?”

  “Her daughter’s her world. And she’s tired of having fast-guys, like yourself, knock her up and leave her dry. Her ex-partner was like you. Only worse that he got her pregnant and then let her know that afterwards.”

  “That’s horrible” –

  “So, you can see why she might be a little reluctant?”

  “Steven, tell Sandy that I really want her to be there. And bring Marie, I can arrange a little play area for her.”

  Chapter 5

  Sandy

  I went to that boat party, after Steven told me that Marie was more then welcome to come. And when we got there, there was a few other kids her age. Which surprised me and Steven, but we rolled with it.

  When I spotted him, we had that same look the first time we met: not knowing who should stop staring first! But I dragged and stopped that beating and brought Marie down into the play area. When I came back up the music was blaring, and Jonathan’s friends were dancing at the top. Steven was chatting to a girl, and I decided to explore the boat, but didn’t know Jonathan had the same thing in mind.

  “Glad you came”

  “Jee … you startled me! Don’t sneak up on a girl like that.”

  “How else could I get your attention? You ignoring me … it hurts.”

  “Yeah. Well, not wanting to acknowledge that I have a daughter is worse.”

  “Come into this room.” We walked in, and I knew it what would happen when I saw the bed.

  “Nice ploy.”

  “Is that all you think I’m after?”

  “What else? I have a daughter, and that makes us incompatible.”

  “Let me meet her”

  “Why?”

  “So, you can see that you’re wrong about me. That you shouldn’t assume me saying I don’t like kids include yours.”

  “So, you’ve said it. Now what?” I trie
d not to flirtingly say this.

  Jonathan scratches his head with a cheeky grin, “Well … there’s the bed.”

  …

  Jonathan relaxed on top; put on protection; lubed; and then entered me from behind and eased himself gently. I didn’t know how to feel. Or what to say during the bouts that he pummelled and tunnelled inside - with the right hands - working the right places on my breast.

  It was a lying down doggy style, I could feel his groin digging my own into the bed. We were meshed together in the same pattern that awoke his stamina each time he needed to have a breather. Jonathan kissed me all over my back and stroked my hair until I elevated my neck for him to grip onto.

  He gripped, and I groaned with delight as his whole body forced me into submission. Stroke-after-stroke, and no stoppage started to occur when he spread his legs apart; held his hands far enough to gain a foundation on the bed and started to really smack and bounce my vagina-hole.

  I buried my face into his duvet as I could really feel the gentleness of his fingers. And each time, Jonathan would come to the side of me and apply the slow-grind that had me closing my eyes and holding onto my pillow, so I didn’t make too much noise.

  Two of his guest were in the room next door, and by now, me and Jonathan had gone past subtly quiet. I tried. And tried. But I needed to release a moan. “Oh.” And then Jonathan had me up on all fours and his hands gripped the side of my waist, when suddenly, he shook, and I helped him to thrust-galore with one hand on his behind.

  We worked to keep his wood alive, but it wasn’t easy. I exchanged roles and let him observe whilst I did the hard work of backing-up into his garage with my buttocks inclined to excite Jonathan. The only thing he had to do was place one hand on my back and feel the force that I brought. Each bump gave him a reason to fiddle with my lady garden from below.

  But I shafted his hand away, which turned him on, and continued to reverse, reverse, reverse, reverse - until I had to bury my head and let Jonathan take over. And he probed his woodpecker until we were both pleading for a new law that stated we could go all night. It went on long enough with Jonathan still inside me, but no longer with the energy to roll-with-the-punches.