But Tucker shrugged.
“I know right? But it’s their life not ours. And you, baby girl, are moving in stat.”
And so my stuff was packed up and brought to the loft by movers the next day. Everything happened so quickly, I guess it was good that I’d never unpacked most of my things.
“Just put her things in the master bedroom,” Tucker directed authoritatively, pointing to a box of my personal items. “Everything into the master.”
And I just shook my head, sighing. Really? Seems like we were playing house right away, a man and wife snug in their home, taking care of each other, sharing each other’s bodies, each other’s lives. But the alpha male was authoritative, so sure of himself, that I found myself swept along with the tide, more breathless than anything, without time to reflect.
But I was adamant about at least one thing. I wasn’t giving up my place on the Lower East side no matter what Tucker said.
“Break your lease,” he growled when he found out. “Why pay rent when you’re living here now?”
I just sighed gustily.
“First,” I said, “We have no idea when your friends are gonna be back so we’ll need a place to stay when they do.”
“Yeah but we could use a hotel,” he interrupted. “That’s what hotels are for.”
I shook my head. The big man seemed to have a completely different relationship with money than me, with the way he’d signed off on the thousand dollar moving bill, how nonchalant he was about putting up good money every night to rest our heads.
“Tucker, hotels are expensive and besides we couldn’t fit all this into a hotel room,” I said wryly, gesturing to the boxes. “We don’t have that much, but still, this isn’t gonna fit in one room.”
But the big man shrugged, unconcerned.
“We’ll find a way,” he said carelessly, “We’ll figure it out, it’s just logistics,” he winked. I shook my head, sighing. Of course, as part of the concierge industry, Tucker took all this in a stride, getting people and things to different places was his specialty after all. But the big man wasn’t done yet. He frowned at me for a moment, studying my outfit. I was dressed in a plain black skirt and white blouse for work, nothing fancy, my shoes a little scuffed but still serviceable.
“Baby girl, you don’t have many clothes, your things probably would fit in a hotel closet,” he said wryly. “In fact, I always see you wearing the same stuff and that’s no way for my best girl to live. Here,” he reached a big hand for his wallet. “Go shopping and buy yourself some nice outfits, treat yourself,” he said with a smile.
And I was touched to the bottom of my soul, but I couldn’t take money from a delivery man, someone who probably needed every cent he had. The offer of carte blanche was kind, but far too generous.
“I appreciate the gesture, I really do. But it’s okay,” I said gently. “City government’s not a fancy place, my clothes are fine for my job.”
But Tucker shook his head again, a stubborn frown appearing on that handsome face.
“No honey,” he growled low in his throat. “I see you wearing drab office clothes, and that’s not how my best girl lives. Buy yourself something new,” he said persuasively. “A couple new things, heck, a whole new wardrobe if you want. Here,” he said again, pressing the plastic into my hand. “Take it,” he growled roughly.
And my fingers closed because it was easier not to fight. Besides, I didn’t have to use it, the credit card could stay in my purse just to appease my lover. But as I curled my fist, I realized this item wasn’t your average rewards card. It wasn’t heavy for one, made of metal instead of plastic, and the surface was a matte metallic rose, glinting slightly in the light.
“What is this?” I asked curiously. I’d never seen something like this before, and I squinted a little, trying to read the print. The words read “JP Morgan” in script on the upper right corner, but everything else looked normal, just a Visa logo and a chip embedded on the left side.
“Yeah, pretty awesome, right?” said the big man, an eyebrow raised. “I get so much grief for the pink color, the guys are always saying that no real man would use it,” he said, rolling his eyes.
I squinted at the card again. It was incredibly beautiful and classy-looking, a deep grey overlaid with blush and I ran my fingers over the smooth, cold surface. Where did something like this come from? How did Tucker get it?
But the big man just chuckled, reading my mind.
“Baby, I get so many miles from that account, it’s like they’re paying me to use it,” he said with a smirk. “Take it,” he added again persuasively. “Even if you don’t wanna buy more work clothes, at least buy some new lingerie for yourself babe. We’ve ruined so many of your panties, you must be down to nothing now.”
And I blushed, sliding his card in my purse. It was true, our sex play was often so adventurous, so naughty, that my panties got trashed all the time, not to mention that they were soaked through so often that I had to change in the women’s restroom at work so the smell wouldn’t alert my co-workers to my constantly wet cunt.
“Okay,” I murmured, nodding. “Will do,” I agreed with a shy nod.
And that was that. Tucker definitely had a way with words, a way of persuading me to do anything and everything he wanted, in bed and out.
But there was still the issue about my old apartment. I was determined to keep my place on the LES in case things didn’t work out, in case I needed a hidey hole to lick my wounds, a retreat when the going got tough.
So taking a deep breath, I confronted the issue head on. And I used all my weapons. I waited until we were in bed, Tucker at his most vulnerable, his most pliable, to make my case.
“I’m not giving up my lease,” I said slowly, taking a deep breath. I wanted to be transparent and open in this relationship, not hide things from the get-go. “I know my stuff’s here now, but I’m keeping my old place just in case,” I said slowly.
The big man lifted an eyebrow at me.
“Why?” he said smoothly.
“Well, you know,” I answered helplessly. “What if we don’t get along? I mean, we practically just met, who knows if we’re really compatible?”
There was truth to those words but the big man wasn’t hearing it.
“You think we’re incompatible?” he growled, nodding downwards. Because we’d just had a hot session and his dick was still in my ass, still deep up my rectal canal, tickling me, making me stretch with ecstasy.
I clenched my anal muscles, hoping to punish him but that only made him groan with pleasure.
“No seriously,” I said, mock threatening. “We only just met and I can’t take the chance. I mean, I’m a divorcee, I’m sensitive okay? If you’d walked the gauntlet like I did, you’d also want some insurance.”
And that made Tucker stop for a moment, looking deep in my eyes as he paused.
“You think I’m like your ex?” he rumbled casually, too casual.
“No of course not!” I sighed. Geez, he could be so clueless sometimes. “I wouldn’t be with you, would never have moved my stuff in if you were like Gary,” I said softly. “But once burned, twice shy, I always buy insurance now.”
And Tucker just shook his head, looking at me contemplatively, taking in my face, my breasts, my narrow waist.
“Little girl,” he said harshly. “I would never do that to you, I’d never treat you the way Gary did,” he said, his voice filled with emotion. “In fact, I’ll fuck up anyone who hurts you, you know that.”
And I reflected on his words for a moment.
“I know Tucker, but if you were the one who hurt me, would you pay the price, go through hell to get me back, show you’re sorry?”
And the big man nodded.
“That’s a good question,” he said seriously. “And I understand why you’re asking, you’ve been through hell and back,” he paused for a moment. “But the answer is yes, absolutely yes, I’d walk through coals if I hurt you, I’d never forgive myself. The pr
oblem is internal, honey,” he said gently. “You’re amazing but your self-confidence is wrecked because of what happened with Gary,” he spat the name.
I pondered for a moment.
“You think so?” I asked slowly. “You think that I’ve lost perspective on life because of what I’ve been through? That I’m settling for less?”
And the big man growled then.
“Well, I don’t know if you’re settling, you’re with me after all,” he said with a sly grin, always confident and assured. “I mean, would you say that you’re settling now?” he asked roughly, grinding his hips against my butt cheeks. And I sighed again, feeling his big shaft move even deeper up my ass, the tip reaching up my GI tract, making me feel good, unable to reply.
And Tucker just chuckled, sensing my paralysis.
“See honey? You have to understand, you’re vulnerable,” he continued as I panted. “You’re amazing baby, and don’t let that fuckwad ex of yours make you think otherwise. If I hurt you, I’d be the first one to kick my own ass.”
And he was so genuine, the emotion so strong in his eyes that I forced myself back to reality, taking his face between my palms, cupping that strong jaw.
“I know, Tucker, I know,” I murmured against his lips. “And that’s why I want to do something special for you.”
I kissed him deeply, once, twice, feeling his dick twitch in my ass, come back to life and moaned breathily into his mouth before shifting my hips back, pulling back my pelvis so that his cock slid out. Oh fuck, it looked good, the hot pink man meat slightly chafed from my dryness, slicks of white cum on the side.
And reaching over to my nightstand, I picked up the bottle of wine we’d been sharing. We’d had a luxurious dinner and brought the wine upstairs to savor in bed before getting naked, the ultimate in decadence, lying between the satin sheets while swilling a full-bodied, rich Cabernet.
“This was an expensive bottle honey, thank you for getting it for us,” I purred, looking up at him between my lashes.
He kissed me then, our lips locking, his tongue flickering deep into my mouth, the remnants of the cab still there, tangy notes of red grape mixed with hints of citrus.
“You like?” he growled. “I picked it up at that new place down the street, you know the one that has about a million selections, it’s a fucking cellar.”
And I giggled then because that was perfect.
“Oh good,” I purred. “A good selection is important because look honey, look what I’m doing, this is all for you.”
And Tucker’s eyes were rapt as he stared at me. With a slow, languorous slide of my tongue, I licked the bottleneck suggestively, like I was hungry and it was a huge dick to be consumed. I swirled my tongue around the green glass, leaving moist slicks of saliva, and once it was lubed and ready, I guided the green bottle down my body until the head pointed at my pussy.
“Fuck me with it, big boy?” I invited. “Push it into my cunt?”
And Tucker was only too happy to oblige. His big hands seized the wine bottle, gripping it tight as I hoisted one leg over his shoulder to spread myself wider, give him better access.
“Fuck baby, you’re so wet,” he rumbled, staring at my pussy hungrily, licking his lips as if anticipating the taste, and with a quick flick of his wrist, the bottle was in.
“Ohhh fuuck,” I moaned gutturally, the cool glass going hard up my swollen walls. The neck was dick-sized but otherwise the sensation was completely different, the makeshift penis cool and smooth with no ridges, no hotly beating veins. But still it filled me and felt fucking good in my vag, I started juicing relentlessly.
“Yeah fuck me,” I whispered, “Do it, do it.”
And Tucker started pounding me with the wine bottle then, shoving it in deep before withdrawing, smears of fluid coating the deep green glass, the elegant swan neck of the bottle turning a milky white.
“Fuck,” he grunted, never taking his eyes from my trashed cunt. “This is what I love about you, you’re such a fucking slut.”
And I threw my head back and screamed, the admission didn’t bother me at all.
“Oh yeah,” I panted between heaves. “I’m your whore, your personal fuckslut.”
And Tucker’s eyes flamed with fire then, my words so incendiary, so hot that it only goaded him into action. Without losing a beat, the big man pulled the bottle out of my pussy and with the next thrust, shoved it into my ass.
“Oh fuck!” I shrieked. “Oh fuck fuck fuck!” Because although he’d just been up there, I wasn’t prepared at all and the invasion took me by surprise, chills running up and down my spine as my pussy and ass tingled and clenched, both holes clamping down with pleasure. “Oh fuck!”
But Tucker was a man with a mission and he wasn’t letting up. He swung his arm vigorously, impaling me again and again on the bottle, forcing it deep up my rectum, going so far I was sure it was going to pop out of my throat.
I screamed and shrieked, trembling and shaking until I couldn’t take it anymore. The incredible sensations coursing through my cunt, the violation of my ass, how it was so stretched, so pummeled, was overwhelming and I creamed like an overflowing geyser, the white spilling out of my cunt and running all over his hand as he fucked me below.
“Ohhhh,” I moaned, throwing my head back, my body open to his gaze, his touch. “Ohhhh!”
“That’s right baby girl,” he panted, still going at it hard in my ass. “That’s how my little butt slut takes it.”
And I came again at the dirty words, the tremors shaking me from head to toe, electric sparks coursing from my clit to my nips, my swollen folds snapping and clenching with desire.
“Ohhh,” I moaned again. “Tucker, Tucker, fuuuuck.”
The big man watched, a sly smile on his face even as he slowly eased off, stilling his movements, eating up the sight of my pink pussy coming down from heaven, short jolts, small twitches taking over from the tremendous waves.
“Fuck, I love seeing you come,” he growled, reaching a finger to my hole and scooping up some of that white before bringing it to his mouth. “You taste good, baby girl,” he ground out, sampling my cunt juice.
And I took it one step further.
“Oh really? I taste good?” I said slyly. “Hand me the bottle.”
And he passed it over, hand shaking, sensing what I was about to do. Because yeah, I was with the man I adored and nothing could stop me, nothing could hold me back. Opening my pink pucker seductively, I slipped the bottle between my lips, tasting my own musky ass scent.
“Oh mmm,” I murmured. “Oh mmm.” The ass to mouth was incredible, I loved sampling my own butthole, getting a whiff of what Tucker ate every night. And true to form, the big man wasn’t missing out today. He slapped my butt, making it sting, before worming a finger to my anus and slipping it in, stirring it a bit, making sure it got good and nasty up there. Then without missing a beat, he popped it out and brought it to his lips.
“Baby girl, there isn’t a part of you that doesn’t taste good,” he rumbled. “And we’re starting over at square one now.”
I sighed then, my body going limp. I’d just been fucked in the pussy and ass with a wine bottle, my lover eating my musky butt scent. And he wanted to start over? That meant the horizontal games had only just begun, and I was in for another hard loving tonight.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Tucker
Laurie’s amazing, so down-to-earth and genuine, without a mean bone in her body. I know I’ve said it before, said it a million times, but this girl is the real thing. She’s curvy, giving and generous, which is especially touching because she doesn’t exactly make much working in City government. Yep, she’s a civil servant and I haven’t seen her paystub, but this new administration isn’t exactly known for its generosity to employees.
And I like it because she’s refreshing, so different. These last few months have me staying in every night, eating dinner with the brunette, relaxing, lounging, talking about our day before heading to bed an
d drilling that sweet pussy over and over again. It’s a complete change from my previous life as a man about town, banging a different cunt every night, coming into work in the mornings with my dick wet from a strange woman’s cream. All the mindless fucks took their toll and I used to be pretty cranky, a fucking asshole to everyone around me. But now my attitude at NYC Concierge has improved, and a lot of folks have noticed.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” growled my cousin, eyeing me one morning. I’d been whistling slightly while staring at some spreadsheets, relaxed, lounging back in my chair. We have an open office plan so there are no walls, everyone sits in the common area, including me.
I shrugged my shoulders, Hunter was always up in my business. It was his job, I’d hired a family member as COO to keep me in line, speak truth to power, but still, even I admit the change in my personality was a one eighty.
“Nothing,” I said casually. “Why?”
Hunter just eyed me suspiciously.
“It’s ten a.m. and I haven’t seen you take a drink yet,” he growled. “And yet you seem okay, you’re not a raging lunatic punching walls.”
I guffawed then. Yeah, sometimes I’m intense, really intense because I ask so much of myself, and I want everyone to give a hundred and fifty percent. Shit, I worked so hard for my baby and it killed me that NYC Concierge was a “job” to some people, nothing more than I paycheck. I try not to hire those folks, they don’t have the dream, the vision to get the company off the ground.
But Hunter was right. Everything about me had changed, I’d skipped my morning drink more by accident than anything else. Because with Laurie, there was no need for the alcohol, no need for the extra push. Instead, I got my push from her sweet pussy wrapped around my cock in the grey light of dawn, her pulsing snatch milking me, draining me of my jism so that I could focus during the day, my body sated yet humming, ready to go. I swear, it was the best drug, an adrenaline shot that lasted and lasted until I got home, ready for another dose of that curvy body.
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