“Fuck, this amazing,” he rasped, his mouth dangerously close to my pussy again. “Fuck, I’m jealous of this dildo.”
Because then I felt the toy press up against my entrance. It was so big, so hard, so filling that I moaned as it breached me, slightly uncomfortable as a recent virgin.
“Ohhh,” I moaned, my face mashed into the carpet. “Ohhh,” I cried as I held my butt cheeks even wider, offering myself.
“That’s it,” Nick ground out, sliding the dildo in even further. “You can take it, it’s smaller than me,” he smirked. And slowly, he began a slide in and out of my female channel. I was plenty lubed up already, both from his sperm and my own cream, and Mr. Stiffie slid in and out with no problem, rubbing up against me at the most delicious angle, stroking my g-spot.
But Nick had plans.
“Oh!” I squealed when he brushed against my asshole, stroking the tight pleats, making the pucker tingle. “Oh!” I sighed again when his digit popped in up to the first knuckle. “Ohhhhh fuuuck,” I moaned as he felt around that dark passage, fucking me in both holes.
“I can feel the dildo through your ass wall,” he said roughly. “I can feel it moving in you, you’re so fucking tight.”
And the dirty words sent me over the edge. It was just too much for my untested body. I was getting diddled two ways by a gorgeous man and my stamina, my ability to hold out was undeveloped. I exploded like a rocket all over Mr. Stiffie, my ass and cunt clamping down, spasming over and over again as I screamed into the rug, my body shaking with electric shock. I screamed again and again, not caring who heard, my ass jerking on his finger, almost popping it out as I bucked up and down on the fake penis.
And after it was over, I was a mess, panting and heaving on the floor, my face pressed against the thousand dollar Persian rug, cream running heavily down my thighs as Nick pulled the dildo out with a long, slow slide.
“Fuck, it’s wet,” he said, studying the rubber. “There’s so much nectar on this, it’s a shame to waste.”
And with that he held it in front of my mouth to lick. Once again, I obediently opened and let my tongue trail up and down the plastic, tasting my own cream, the ambrosia that my pussy produced in such copious quantities around this man.
“Oh god,” I moaned, completely sated, a total fuck doll for this man. “Oh god.”
And Nick just chuckled evilly, gazing at my prone form, my curves white and luscious spread out before him, breasts heaving, ass and pussy just fucked.
“This is exactly how I like my women,” he remarked. “Freshly fucked with more to go.”
And with that I closed my eyes, knowing that my boss wasn’t done with me yet … not by a long shot.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Tammy
The next day, I popped out of bed at the appointed hour, eager to get to work. Of course it wasn’t because I was so devoted to my job as a typist. It was because I wanted to see Nick again, gaze at his massive form, feel it below me, above me, on me, in me.
I skipped out of my apartment and headed to the bus stop when a voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Miss? Miss? Miss Jones? Over here.”
I turned suspiciously. Up in the Bronx, stranger danger is everywhere and you’ve got to keep your wits about you. Acknowledging a random male wasn’t good form for a woman who wanted to stay safe.
But the guy who greeted me was wearing the most ridiculous costume, making me titter slightly. He had a chauffeur’s cap on complete with a three piece penguin suit and a twirly moustache like a circus barker.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” I asked, struggling to keep a straight face.
The man merely bowed, immune to my repressed giggles. He probably got it all the time. Instead, he gestured with a white gloved hand to a black sedan at the curb, bowing at the waist.
“I’m here to take you to work,” he said with a pseudo-British accent. “Mr. Martin’s requested that I escort you to and from Luxor Corp. every day here on out.”
I frowned. Was this some sort of joke? I’ve never had a car pick me up before, it’s always public transportation for me. Besides, how did he pick me out of the morning rush crowd? I could have been any of the women walking by.
“How do you know who I am?” I asked suspiciously.
The chauffeur merely bowed again.
“Mr. Martin asked me to look for a beautiful young woman and you’re the only possible candidate this morning,” he said graciously. “Mr. Martin described you as ‘ravishing,’” he added.
I colored, my insides growing warm.
“Oh my god, he did?” I said softly, eyes wide, heart beating a million miles a minute. And when the chauffeur nodded and smiled, I slid into the car then, letting the luxury surround me like a down blanket. Wow, it was so fancy inside, buttery leather upholstery, free bottled water and classical music playing in the background. But how had Nick known where I lived? How did he know about my heinous commute?
Suddenly my cheeks colored. Of course he knew, the alpha male was my boss, he knew everything, from how much I made to where I lived and what school I attended. It was probably all available to him at the touch of a keystroke on the Luxor mainframe.
But as the scenery whizzed by bringing me closer to work, sheer happiness began to suffuse my body. Joy that the big man cared about me, had ordered car service for me, that he was concerned about my safety, my well-being. I smiled, blissed out, leaning back in the soft upholstery, beaming with happy vibes.
And the shockers didn’t stop there. When I waltzed into reception, still floating on cloud nine, Norma signaled to me.
“Tammy, I’ve got your new keys right here,” she said, jingling a chain at me.
“Oh what for?” I paused. “Am I getting a locker somewhere, maybe in the company gym?”
And Norma smiled gently at me.
“No, HR’s placing you in an executive suite for the time being. Have you heard of Le Meridien Hotel?” she asked, confidentially lowering her voice. “Luxor keeps a couple apartments in the hotel for VIPs,” she confided. “And you’re going to be living in one of them.”
My cheeks colored as I gasped.
“But- but why?” I asked. “I’m just a no one from the typing pool.”
“Who knows?” smiled Norma. “But take it from me, my dear. Count your blessings. Maybe it was a mistake by HR, a glitch in the computer, but no need to let on.” Switching back into a normal volume she said, “The movers are packing your stuff up now, it’ll be at the Meridien by close of business today.”
And my mouth positively gaped. Movers were at my shabby home right now packing my stuff? I was moving into a luxury apartment by the end of the day? It was like Cinderella leaving her hovel and being magically transported to the palace.
Zombie-like, I walked to my cube, unseeing, unhearing, dropping limply into my chair. There could be only one explanation for this. Nick. Mr. CEO must have arranged it all, the car, the new housing, the movers, everything. Scratch that. He must have told someone to do it, and presto, it was done.
I stared blankly at my computer screen, my hand limp on the mouse, unable to focus. What had I gotten myself into? What had started out as a fling with the boss was now turning my life upside-down with new digs, a new commute, a new everything. Was I ready for this? Was this what I wanted, to have an alpha male in charge, taking care of me, keeping me?
But another rush of happiness suffused my form, washing over my body in waves, my eyes growing bright, sparkling as I thought about the billionaire. Nick cared. He really cared about me, wanted to make sure I was safe, that I wasn’t killing myself getting to work each day, that I lived in a nice place instead of a rat-infested hidey-hole up in the Bronx.
And it made me so happy, made me feel like I was really someone, that I mattered to someone. I’d never had this feeling before, I was always an afterthought, my parents working class folk who were too tired trying to put food on the table, the few friends I had disappearing after a few years. Th
is was the first time that someone out there was paying attention, making me feel special and wanted.
So I hummed happily as I typed away, smiling from ear to ear as my keyboard clattered. It was all good. Nothing could wreck my good mood.
And sure enough, a message popped into my inbox just as I finished the last document.
Come by, it said. I’m waiting.
I almost jumped out of my chair with eagerness before forcing myself to take a few deep breaths and keep calm. Don’t be such a puppy! I warned myself. Nick’s done a lot but you don’t want to look like a silly lap dog licking his hand.
Except at this moment I was ready to lick any part of Mr. Martin, any part that he’d let me touch. So trying to look normal, I smoothed my skirt and let myself into the women’s restroom again. As usual, no one was inside and I made my way to the handicap stall, pressing the release for the hidden door. Impressive, I thought, peering inside. Nick’s already installed the new lights, it looks great in here.
And practically skipping through the maze I swung open the door that led to the private bathroom. Sure enough, the billionaire was waiting for me in the small space, pulling me into his arms, dropping kisses on my neck as I leaned into that big body.
“Mmm, my best girl is here,” he murmured into my skin. “Fuck, you feel good.”
And I giggled, pressing my curvy body against him, practically gluing myself to that hard frame.
“I’m glad you fixed the lights,” I teased coyly. “That was quick.”
He groaned into my neck.
“Don’t want you falling over and tripping,” he replied. “Can’t have my best girl laid up and unavailable.”
And I just cooed.
“Is that your toolbox?” I asked coyly, looking up at him through my lashes, grinding my hips a bit against his hardness.
And the big man threw his head back and laughed, showing off perfect white teeth. Because the question had two meanings. On the one hand, I was referring to his package, the rigid shaft pressed against my belly, hot, pulsing, ready to go. But on the other, there literally was a toolbox in the corner of the bathroom, shiny and made of red metal. I figured he’d used it to change the bulbs in the passageway, it was probably filled with nuts and bolts and all sorts of handy items.
“Does that box look familiar to you?” he whispered in my ear, nuzzling my neck. “Does it ring a bell?”
I threw it another glance. Nope, it looked completely normal, like something you’d pick up at a hardware store.
“No, why?” I asked. “Is there something I should know?”
He laughed again, amused.
“I just thought since you’re an expert with sex toys, you might recognize it.”
I flushed then.
“Oh I get it, you keep your toys in there right? It’s not filled with nuts and bolts, it’s filled with X-rated stuff, right?”
The big man hummed in my ear.
“You’ll see little girl. Or more accurately,” he said wickedly, “you’ll feel.”
He started pulling away from me to reach for the toolbox but I didn’t let go of him immediately. Instead I draped both arms around his neck, keeping him close, my little mouth determined.
“I wanted to tell you,” I whispered against his lips, looking deeply into his eyes. “That I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done. The car service, the apartment, the job, everything.”
And the big man chucked me under the chin.
“Glad you like it,” he rumbled. “Because you were too far away in the Bronx. I live at the Meridien too, you know,” he added with a sly smile.
I gasped again. Oh my god, I’d be living in the same building as Nick?
And he nodded, reading my mind.
“That’s right baby girl. Your apartment is right next to mine and I’ll be knocking on your door to borrow a cup of sugar soon,” he said with a grin.
I positively melted then.
“My sugar’s all yours,” I purred, rubbing my breasts against his chest, positively mashing myself into his big frame. “Come as often as you like.”
And the big man groaned then, his hand slipping between my thighs to test my cunt, feel the wetness there. But before we got too carried away, he turned back to the toolbox and said, “I do want you to use this thing.”
Confused, I shook my head.
“Use what?” I asked, perplexed.
“The toolbox,” he replied. “You didn’t think I was just going to fuck you vanilla, did you? No baby girl,” he added, touching the tip of his finger to my nose. “That’s not the name of this game. The tool box is going to take your pussy and fuck it hard as I watch.”
I pulled back for a moment, confused. What? How?
The big man laughed again, the sound emanating from his deep chest.
“The toolbox is a fucking machine,” he said. “Literally, a machine that fucks.” Disentangling my arms, he hoisted the box, balancing it on the counter before opening it. Before my amazed eyes, he pulled out a silver rod about eight inches long.
“Watch this, baby,” he said. “You screw this into the side, and then attach this,” he said, pulling out a dildo. “It comes with a couple attachments, your choice. There’s an anal probe, a vibrator, let’s see what else …”
I gasped as my pussy ran, titillated and shocked.
“You mean like a Sybian? I ride it?”
My cheeks were flushed red at the delicious dirtiness.
“No baby, you don’t ride the toolbox because there’s no way to get on top,” he murmured into my year. “Watch,” he commanded, and flicking a remote, the dildo began to thrust forward and back horizontally, obscene, disgusting and yet such a turn-on. I gushed again, seeing that plastic dong jab back and forth, imagining it in my pussy, filling me up, stretching me.
And Nick just laughed.
“Turns you on, doesn’t it?” he rumbled into my ear. “Makes you a horny little slut.”
And while the machine pumped away, his fingers traced over my slit again, this time making their way up my inner channel. I sighed and squeezed my internal muscles, welcoming his fingers, loving the feel of the dirty slide.
“Get on your knees,” he rasped in my ear. “Show me your cunt animal style.”
And with a soft whimper I obeyed, getting on all fours on the bathroom floor, flipping up my skirt to show off my wet cunt. Nick’s eyes opened appreciatively, his pupils dilating.
“Baby you have one of the most beautiful pussies I’ve ever seen,” he murmured, running his hand over my dripping slit, slowly pulling my panties to the side so that my fat pink lips were revealed. “Fuck, I love how you’re so fucking wet already.”
And I mewled softly, arching my back, wiggling my hips against his hand. Even though I’d only sampled dick once before, I was a cumslut now, begging him, willing him to put something, anything into me.
And the big man laughed deep in his throat.
“Don’t worry baby girl, I’ve got just the thing for you.”
He grabbed the toolbox off the counter, the dildo still jabbing back and forth obscenely and put it on the floor behind me, propping it up on a small stool so that it was exactly at pussy height. Grabbing the remote, he slowed the thrusting motions so that they were sensuous slides as opposed to aggressive stabs. Spitting into his hand, he wet the fake dick and lubed it up for me.
“Not that you need it,” he growled, eyeing my hungry cunt. “You’re wet enough as is.”
And as I moaned, he pointed the fake dick at my vaginal hole and slowly brought the dildo closer, closer, until the head just touched my pussy lips on each thrust.
“Fuck baby, this looks amazing,” he ground out, his eyes glued to my secret space. “Fuck.”
And I was perfectly still, feeling the head of the dildo kiss me on each return, thrusting against my lips, my wet hole creaming hotly with anticipation.
But when Nick moved the machine forward again, the dildo slid to the side instead of inside me, curving a
nd bouncing off my cunt, almost bending in half.
“Wha?” I half twisted around, my eyes large as I gazed at the big man, and then the machine.
“Sorry baby, let me try again,” he said. Lining up the tool box again, he pointed the dildo at my wet hole, aiming more carefully this time, trying to get it into my cunt.
But the same thing happened, the rubber bouncing off my labia, curving almost in half as it rebounded, the stupid thing vibrating senselessly.
“What the hell?” he ground out, really annoyed now. “What the fuck is wrong with this thing? Your pussy’s small but it’s not impossible to get into, I did it.”
I nodded, just as desperate, wiggling my hips.
“Maybe if you turn it off and let me back onto it, that’d be easier,” I whispered, choking with pent-up desire, my body literally shaking with need. “Let’s just try,” I breathed.
And Nick nodded, turning off the machine so that the dildo was stationary, pointed at my pussy. Slowly, I backed up so that my nether lips kissed the head again, the slick rubber parting my labia, making me moan and shiver.
“Oh fuuuck,” I cried, pushing my hips back slightly. The dildo slipped in a bit, maybe two inches and I squirmed at the feeling, my pussy getting stretched, my cunt filled.
“That’s it baby,” rasped Nick. “Fuck yourself onto the dick, show me you need it, push that hot cunt back like the slutty cunt it is.”
And slowly I did as told. My eyes closed, my head thrown back as I concentrated, I fucked my hips back, forcing the dildo into myself, the shaft going deeper and deeper, my pussy sucking the plastic in.
“Ohhh!” I cried. “Feels so fucking good.”
And I threw my hips back once more, wiggling my ass, forcing the dick up my internal channel until it was fully embedded in me.
“Did you like that?” I panted, looking at the big man. “Did you like seeing me impale myself on this fat cock?”
And the man just laughed throatily as he stroked my ass, grabbed a cheek and squeezed hard.
The Billionaire's Kitten: A Fake Marriage Romance Page 22