Prologue
LORNA
She watched as he approached her friend Marlena and bent to whisper in her ear. Marlena must have heard him over the loud music because she nodded her head and whispered something back to him.
He turned and walked towards the bar.
Marlena turned and rolled her eyes at Lorna. He was cute in the way that only shorter men could be. Lorna knew her friend well enough to know that he was so not Marlena’s type.
He returned with a bottle of beer in one hand and a glass, filled with clear liquid and a couple of ice cubes, in the other. When he handed Marlena the glass, she took it and placed it next to her barely-touched one on the small table she and Lorna were sharing, without a word of thanks.
He stood next to Marlena’s chair, as if trying to build up his courage, while she glanced around the club, looking bored. Finally he turned and asked her to dance. She grudgingly accepted and let him lead her to the dance floor.
She danced with him as though it was an unpleasant chore, and in a way that would let anyone watching know that he wasn’t her man.
After a couple of dances, she obviously decided that she’s done enough to repay him for the drink and danced with someone else.
His embarrassment was visible as he turned to ask Lorna to dance with him.
She accepted…though ordinarily she would have refused.
He had first chosen Marlena–who was four dress sizes smaller–so he must prefer skinny women.
He’d also shown a complete lack of manners by not offering to buy her a drink too, when he’d made the offer to Marlena. Lorna would have declined–she had enough money to buy her own drinks and also she wasn’t stupid enough to let a man buy her a drink without accompanying him to the bar–but she wondered if he was stingy or just broke.
There was an air of defeat about him that spoke to her.
He looked in desperate need of some tender loving care and she had a lot to give.
He would be her next project, she decided there and then.
Some men learn to love when they’re shown love; some take all the love they can get and give nothing in return.
She was willing to give Bryce the chance to prove which of the two kinds he was.
She was also strong enough to drop him like a hot potato, if he turned out to be the latter.
***
BRYCE
When Bryce is in a good mood he calls me ‘Mr Shorty’. When he’s pissed off he foregoes the formality and just calls me plain ‘Shorty’. I hate the name calling. He is only 5′ 6″ and should be the last person to call anyone or anything vertically challenged. But as they say, ‘familiarity breeds contempt’.
He and I are too close for comfort. I would leave him if I could, but the farthest I can get my head away from him is eight and a half inches when I’m hard and a little less when I’m not.
My other end is attached to him, you see.
Yes, I’m his dick.
I’m the thing that dangles between his legs and rules him in most situations.
He has no respect for me and sometimes I have to teach him a lesson.
He and I have completely different taste in women. He likes skinny, model types, but give me a BBW any day of the week. When I give them some attention, they give it back a hundredfold. They give head with gusto, the same way they eat food. And can keep up with me because they have stamina. Skinny women aren’t anywhere as accommodating. Most of them hold out until Bryce buys them dinner and then they just pick at it because they are watching their weight. Don’t know why–there’s nothing there to see! Some of them have to be dined several times before they will free up and often they aren’t worth the wait. Most big girls cook for him–some have even taken him out for meals. And they almost never make a fuss about giving him some pussy.
Bryce wears two-inch inserts in his shoes to make up for his height deficit, but most women don’t realize that he is suddenly shorter once he gets them home and I get to work.
Take this evening for instance. We walked into his favourite nightclub and he immediately walked up to this Ferrari of a woman, completely ignoring the chubby Ford Fiesta beside her. The Ferrari grudgingly told him her name was Marlena, and after he got her a double vodka and tonic, though the one in her hand was barely touched, she grudgingly agreed to dance with him.
He and I dance with taller women all the time. The nice ones spread their legs a bit, reducing the height discrepancy and allowing a brother to get right up in between their thighs. She kept her legs together like her upper thighs were the only things keeping her pussy from escaping and running out of the club. Anyway, after we danced a couple of tunes she let Bryce go, went back to her table and downed one of the drinks. The next thing we knew, a brother almost twice Bryce’s size and height, came over and asked her to dance. She downed the other drink, jumped up and left Bryce without a word. She had danced with Bryce all prim and proper like she was a Sunday school teacher; she danced with the tall fucker like she was a dancehall queen.
By then all the women in the club had hooked up with other men, leaving the sweet Fiesta and an older woman the only ones without partners. Bryce grudgingly asked the Fiesta to dance. She readily agreed, but she was taller than she looked sitting on the stool, sipping her glass of brandy or some similar amber liquid. Her four-inch heels made her at least two inches taller than Bryce and having unsuccessfully tried to get his arms comfortably around her, he dropped them to his side. I could tell that he was regretting asking her to dance. But the Fiesta, probably sensing that he would leave her in the middle of the song, wrapped her arms around his neck, spread her legs nicely apart and placed her fat clit right on top of me and started to move to the music.
By then I was as hard as granite.
Lorna, a beautiful name I thought personally when she introduced herself later, gave me the sweetest dry sex I’ve ever had. If she had been wearing a mini or something more convenient than jeans, my man Bryce would have whipped me out and had her right on the dance floor. I know that because he has done it before in that same club. The lights are so low you can barely recognize faces.
A couple of times Bryce has pulled women he thought were good looking and when he got them outside under the street lights he almost ran and left them. The club is known for two particular types of women: skinny and ugly, or chubby. The skinny ones were always ugly, guaranteed. The chubby ones were often pretty, but there were no guarantees.
Lorna was good looking, thank God.
After the party, Bryce offered her a lift home. She had planned to share a cab home with Marlena, but the skinny Minnie went home with the big, muscle-bound fucker and left her girlfriend stranded.
On the way to her house Lorna put her hand in Bryce’s trousers and released me. Phew! I had been dying, confined in his boxer shorts. She had nice, spongy hands. Their softness felt so good against my hardness I nearly came as she stroked me.
“Do you want to come up for a while?” she asked when Bryce pulled up in front of her end-of-terrace house.
“I live with somebody,” he lied.
In other words he was telling her that he would fuck her but couldn’t offer any commitment. This is what he does to bigger women all the time. Yet, they are the ones who have always treated us the best.
“I’m not asking you to marry me,” she responded coolly.
“Alright, I’ll come up for a short while.”
As soon as they’d entered the door, Bryce pulled her back against him.
“Take off your heels,” he instructed, already reaching around to unzip her jeans. She kicked off her shoes and made to turn and face him. Instead he pulled her thong and jeans off together and kept her facing away from him.
“Do you have a condom?” she asked
“Yes,” he replied and quickly pulled one from his pocket and capped me.
Bending her over in front of him, he plunged me inside her with one stroke.
Her pussy was wet but tight.
“Aah! Aa-ah! Easy!” she moaned, but Bryce kept hold of her hips and kept banging away.
It’s the one thing I hate about him. If he pulls a skinny woman, he treats her like glass–lots of foreplay and kisses and tender lovemaking. Whenever he pulls a big woman it’s like he wants to punish her for being fat–little or no foreplay, a kiss or two only if she insists, and rough sex.
But she was tight. I couldn’t hold out for long. Soon I was shooting into the condom and imagining it was into her warm, dark depths.
“Are you hungry?” she asked as Bryce zipped up his flies and prepared to leave. “I’ve got some chicken breasts marinating for tomorrow. I can throw them under the grill or pan-fry them. They’ll be ready in less than half an hour.”
There is nothing Bryce loved more than breast. Women’s breasts, chicken breasts, he loved them almost equally.
“Actually, I’m a bit peckish,” he admitted and bent to take off his shoes. He would have probably kept them on, and retained the vital two inches of height, if her carpet wasn’t a lush, thick cream or her doormat didn’t specifically say, ‘Shoes Off, Please’.
Her place was banging, almost like a man’s crib with tons of high-tech electronic equipment. It was clear that she’d bought them for their performance and not their prettiness as most women do. She had an eighty-five inch Samsung HD TV that Bryce knew had set back more than he earned in a year, the Bowers & Wilkins Zeppelin Loudspeaker System for iPod that he wanted badly and Xbox One.
I knew right away that Bryce was going to come back to her pad again, if only to enjoy her toys.
“I’ve got full satellite subscription, if there’s anything you want to watch,” she said, pointing to the TV.
“Thanks.” Bryce looked around with envy. “You’ve got a nice place here.”
Lorna shrugged. “My parents left me the house when they moved back to Grenada. I’ve spent quite a bit on it over the last eighteen months and finally it’s coming together. I just need my snooker table now and I’m done.”
Snooker table? Bryce would give a lung to have one he could play on whenever he wanted.
“What do you do for a living?” He asked the question as though he thought she was a jewel thief or a hooker.
“I’m a lawyer at Lovells,” she told him as she headed to the kitchen. “Have a look around while I put on the chicken breasts.”
Bryce stood in shock where she’d left him.
Working for the sixth biggest law firm in the UK, she was living his dream.
He had left University College of London clutching his Upper Second degree in Law optimistically, but had soon realized that he had only just started the journey to being a lawyer. Things had gotten progressively tougher from then onwards.
Last year he had given up in defeat and taken an administrative job with Lambeth Council after he had failed to get a training contract with any of the hundreds of law firms he had applied to.
He heard the hiss as Lorna placed the chicken breasts onto a hot griddle or pan, and instantly the smell of herbs drifted into the room. Minutes later she came back into the room with a chilled bottle of champagne.
“Don’t worry about getting drunk,” she told him. “I have a spare bedroom. Well, I have two, but I’m using one as a gym.”
I admired Bryce for keeping his big mouth shut for once and not asking her how often she used it. At a glance I would say never, but then he hadn’t been to a gym lately himself and was becoming decidedly podgy. It would have been the classic pot calling the kettle black. He took the champagne and popped it with an almighty bang. It was the expensive stuff and he gave a sigh of appreciation when he took a sip.
“Those breasts should need turning about now.” Lorna put her champagne flute down and hurried back to the kitchen.
She stayed for a while and then returned with four large nicely-browned breasts on a silver platter and homemade potato salad. Like me, I know Bryce wondered if she had been expecting company later or if she had planned to eat them all by herself.
She knew how to cook, though. Bryce had three pieces of the breasts and loaded his plate with potato salad. She had the other and a forkful of the salad.
And typical Bryce, as soon as he finished eating he wanted sex. At least this time, mellow from the food and the champagne, he played Mr Loverman. Or maybe he had gained a new respect for her.
She wasn’t nearly as big as her baggy top had suggested. Women always got that shit wrong–baggy clothes make big women look bigger but make skinny women look skinnier. I see it all the time, women trying to disguise or hide their bodies in clothing that make the flaws they want to cover more noticeable.
As soon as he peeled off her bra I knew that Bryce was going to stay the whole night. She had the kind of nipples that he liked to fall asleep sucking on. When she went down on her knees in front of him, I was startled and furious when he pulled her back up. What the fuck was he thinking? The woman was going to give me some attention and he stopped her?
But to my surprise, he lay back on the bed and let her climb on top of him for a 69–the chicken or the champagne had definitely gone to his head!
Her pouty lips were as soft as her hands and soon she had me deep inside her mouth. If I could talk I would have asked her to marry me there and then. I was sorry when Bryce pulled me free and turned her over, until I remembered the tight, slippery warmth that I had occupied embarrassingly briefly earlier. I vowed to redeem myself this time.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll see stars,” he warned as he spread her legs wide.
He could confidently say that because he knew that I was primed for and ready for anything.
“God, yes!” Instead of backing down, she spread even wider and wiggled her hips impatiently. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a man, I need you to fuck my brains out.”
At any other time, her words might have dampened my spirit a tad–the men in London had to be stoned, crazy or gay to let prime pussy like this go to waste–instead her words made me harder.
As soon as Bryce put the condom on me, I slid right into her like a warm knife through butter.
Lorna bit her bottom lip but a stifled moan escaped her.
“Damn girl, you fit me like a glove!” Bryce groaned and pulled all the way out to try the fit again.
It felt just as good sliding in the second, third, fourth…hell, who had time to count?…time. Her pussy was like warm silk. Except silk isn’t greedy. Silk doesn’t grab on and hug you like a long-lost relative. Silk doesn’t feel like it’s eating you, or make sexy sounds to let you know how much it’s enjoying swallowing you whole.
I felt the cum gather and readied myself to shoot it so far up in her womb it would take a week or two to travel back down.
“Let me loosen you a bit, babe.”
I groaned as Bryce pulled out, moved slightly to the side and replaced me with two fingers.
I was stunned for a minute. Why the hell was my man being so considerate? He usually doesn’t care if he has to tear up a pussy.
What the fuck?
“Give me a nipple,” he commanded as he squeezed another finger inside her.
Ah! The penny finally dropped. This wasn’t Bryce being considerate about her. It was all about Bryce being considerate about Bryce. He had sensed that I was going to embarrass him with another quick ‘draw, aim and fire’, and had taken matters into his own hands.
Lorna gave the nipple of her right breast a quick tug to harden the big juicy morsel further, cupped its weight and offered it to him like ambrosia to the gods.
Bryce sucked it into his mouth like he was starving.
“Oh, Bryce,” she moaned and started to move her hips in a frenzy.
She came fast and hard. Poor woman had been on the boil since he had taken his satisfaction earlier and then pulled out and left her hanging.
Knowing that he could now come when he wanted and with no disgrace, Bryce quickly climbed back on top of her.
Her pussy was slippery with her juices but I had to fight past her contracting muscles. Bryce hooked his toes under the footboard and gained the upper hand in the fight.
It was over in less than no time.
“O fuck!” my man Bryce groaned as I made good on the promise to aim for the back of her womb.
He collapsed his full weight onto Lorna like she was a down-filled mattress and lay there without a thought for her comfort.
A skinny woman would have complained that he was squashing her and pushed his ass off. Instead Lorna cradled his head closer to her breasts and whispered, “Thank you.”
I don’t think she was thanking him for his performance or the fact that he’d made her come. I sensed that she was grateful to have someone to wrap her arms around.
Bryce was too busy sleeping to respond.
***
The smell of coffee wafted through the room what seemed like only a few hours later.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
Bryce opened his eyes as Lorna placed a tray with a steaming mug, toast, sausages, bacon and eggs onto the bedside table.
“Good morning,” he mumbled in return as he rubbed his eyes and sat up in the bed.
“I’ve put out a new toothbrush and a clean robe in the bathroom for you,” Lorna informed him as he pushed the duvet aside and swung himself off the bed. “Don’t be too long or your breakfast will get cold.”
“I won’t be a minute,” he promised, making no attempt to hide his huge morning boner as he made his way to the en suite.
He had every right to be proud of me. I was in full glory and if I didn’t know that he liked his belly more than anything else in the world, I would have had him bend her over the bed.
He was as good as his word, just having a pee and quickly brushing his teeth before returning to the room. He left the neatly folded, fluffy white bathrobe where she’d placed. My man’s not stupid–he had seen the way her eyes had devoured me when he had thrown the covers back.
“Get back into bed,” Lorna instructed and placed the tray, which was now on a convenient little table, over his lap. “I’ll grab a shower while you eat.”
She was wearing a robe that looked similar to the one Bryce had ignored, but in pink. Her behind bounced as she walked away and as Bryce picked up his fork and attacked his meal, I envisioned attacking her from the back while she pushed that glorious ass right back at me.
Noticing that Lorna had also placed a remote control on the tray, Bryce picked it and aimed it at the large TV on the wall which he hadn’t noticed before.
He was deep into a replay of a football match when she came back into the room smelling so good I wanted to eat her.
He didn’t take his eyes off the screen as she towelled herself dry, applied lotion to her skin and pulled a strapless dress over her head. He didn’t notice that the dress had a wide skirt nor did he notice that she hadn’t put on any underwear. He didn’t notice that she had dressed for easy-access fucking…but I did.
“I’m going down to prepare the ingredients for lunch.” Lorna reached over and took the table off him.
“Thanks.” Finally remembering his manners, Bryce turned and smiled up at her. “It was good.”
“You’re welcome.”
She smiled back and it brought out deep dimples in her cheeks.
How had l missed them before?
I fucking love dimples…in the cheeks or on the butt…love them.
“Don’t be too long.” Bryce used the same words she’d used earlier.
He’d obviously noticed them, too.
“I won’t,” she promised and walked to the door, the tray with the now completely empty utensils in her hand.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Bryce jumped up and headed for the shower. I knew without asking that he was getting ready to pounce on her as soon as she returned.
He and I share some commonalties. Dimples on a woman are our weakness, but he isn’t connoisseur enough to appreciate them anywhere other than on her face. Foolish man.
By the time Lorna returned, he was propped up in the bed, still watching the match he’d watched the day before but dressed in the bathrobe, freshly showered and shaved.
Not being in the discomfort…sorry, comfort of his own home, he hadn’t initially planned to shave–preferring to give her beard burn than risk getting razor bumps himself. He had learned through trial and error what worked for him. Seeing the top of the range Wilkinson Sword disposable and the L’Oreal Paris Men Expert products she had laid out had changed his mind.
Cynic that he was, Bryce had stopped for a moment to try and recall if he’d felt stubble or seen any trace of a five o’clock shadow on her face. She could have bought the products for herself. No, he’d decided with an inner sigh of relief after a minute’s contemplation–her chin was as smooth as her bottom.
She was just a woman who knew how to treat a man right. Even the toothbrush he’d used wasn’t one of those cheap ‘dozen for £1’ varieties but a battery-operated Oral B. He doubted that it was one she had bought for herself. It was a manly blue; both her electric and manual toothbrushes were pink.
There was no doubt about it, the items were bought with a man in mind–unlike her living room, her bedroom was ultra feminine. Everything pointed to the fact that she was the ultimate in preparedness.
“Come here,” Bryce commanded. The words came out more like a caress than the order I’m sure he’d intended.
She was already getting under his skin and the idiot didn’t even know it.
She smiled and slowly sauntered closer, her breasts, the swell of her belly and her thighs jiggling.
Throbbing with anticipation, I watched her come and realized with a shock that she wasn’t the sad, can’t-get-a-man-to-fuck-me victim I’d thought she was. Her body was all compliance, but there was a glow of dominance in her eyes.
She was an undercover player.
She would play Bryce’s game until she had him right where she wanted him–like a dealer giving free cocaine until the user was hooked.
“I was tired last night,” Bryce warned as he pulled her onto the bed. “That’s the only reason your brains are still in your head and not splattered all over the walls.”
“I can’t believe I said that!” Lorna laughed, filling the air with the sexy, throaty sound that seemed to come effortlessly from the recesses of bigger women.
“I’m glad you did.” Bryce kissed her long and deep. “I like to know where I am with women.”
“And I like to know where I am with men.”
“Do you have a medium-sized dildo?”
“You want to know that because…?” Lorna pulled herself slightly away and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
“I don’t want you getting too sore, too fast.”
Eh? Since when does he give a fuck?
He pulled her closer and whispered in her ear, “I’m going to be in and out of your pussy for the rest of the day.”
Ah! I saw past Bryce’s attempt at being solicitous. He needed some backup–her tight pussy had already made a fool of us twice–we needed reinforcement.
“I have just the thing.” Lorna gave another of her sexy laughs, leaned over and reached into the bottom drawer of her bedside cabinet.
The toy she pulled from a protective sheath was about half an inch shorter than me but much slimmer. It was made of clear, polished glass and a good replica of a cock.
“Perfect.” Bryce took it from her and laid it on the bed. Then he rolled, taking her with him, and reversed their positions. “Let’s get down to business.”
As he pulled the soft top of the dress downwards to free her breasts, Lorna pushed the robe off his shoulders and ran her hands over his back. As he cupped her breasts in his hands and started to nibble on one and then the other, she reached between them and freed me from the folds of the cotton prison that had trapped me but not prevented me from standing proudly erect.
Her hand closed over me and stroked slowly up and down, firmly but not insistently, as though she instinctively knew that though I craved some attention, coming was not the object.
I relaxed some of my tension and let her stroke me.
***
Bryce sat back on his heels between Lorna’s spread legs, his left thumb against her clit as he pounded the dildo buried inside her back and forth. Her head was thrown back against the pillows in ecstasy as she cupped her breasts and pinched her nipples as he’d earlier instructed.
Watching her, he felt a sense of power he hadn’t felt since crossing the finishing line ahead of the taller, more popular, more powerfully-built boy in the final of the Under-16s 100m sprint on School’s Sports Day.
All eyes had been on the other boy–the gold medal had practically had his name on it. But, although he’d had only the fifth fastest time in the line-up, Bryce had known that if he ran the perfect race he was in with a chance.
The gods had been smiling down on him that day. Everything, including the best start of his life, had come together perfectly. Bryce had savoured the moment of stunned silence before the crowd had acknowledged his triumph.
Nothing in life had come as close.
Until now.
Watching Lorna give herself completely over to pleasure made him feel like a maestro: a concert pianist on a Bösendorfer, a gifted violinist on a Stradivarius…giving untold pleasure with the touch of his hands.
“Suck on your nipples for me, babes.”
It was the only thing he wanted to do, but couldn’t from his position.
She complied without question, pushing her left breast upwards and bending her head to take the nipple between her lips. Not all women could achieve that. Her breasts were the big, soft yet firm kind that were perfect for the purpose.
“Now the other one,” he commanded, increasing the thrust of his hand.
“Don’t stop.” Ignoring his order, she grasped the sheet on other side of her, lifted her hips off the bed and rotated her hips like she was dancing to a fast paced Soca song until she climaxed with a loud, “Yesssss!”
“Turn over and let me spank your fat ass for disobeying me,” Bryce threatened and rolled her onto her stomach.
His tone wasn’t as offensive as that sounded. The word ‘fat’ was more like the complimentary ‘phat’.
He threw the wide skirt of her dress up and stroked her ass before slapping me against each side a couple of times.
You call that a spanking, my man?
Poor, poor Bryce. He was hooked and he didn’t even know it.
He reached the box of Durex Mutual Climax condoms Lorna had on the table and quickly covered me. Then he positioned himself behind her, raised his arms and clasped his hands behind his head.
“Now back that ass up and fuck me like your life depended upon it.”
Lorna reached behind and grasped me as she scooted back until the back of her thighs touched the front of his.
She leaned forward as she placed me at the gateway to heaven, and slowly impaled herself. She moved slowly forward and then back again, wiggling her hips to adjust to my size.
“I said, ‘fuck me like your life depended upon it’!” Bryce reminded her and brought his hand sharply down on her right ass cheek.
“Sorry, baby,” she apologized and quickened the tempo.
Bryce tried to play the ‘dan’, tried to think only of his pleasure while she did all the hard work, but within minutes he had her swinging breasts in his hands and was meeting her every backward motion of her hips with a forward thrust of his own.
“Fuck, babes, I’m going to come,” he groaned, baring his teeth like a rabid dog. “I’m going to come so fucking…hard.”
He collapsed onto her back and humped her like the dog he’d looked seconds ago and kept going until I was emptied inside the condom.
She lowered herself onto the bed and he stayed on her back as he fell into a light doze.
“Let me get up and cook something,” Lorna said minutes later, moving her shoulders to rouse him when he showed no intention of getting off her. “You can stay and catch a five.”
“Ok, babes.” Bryce rolled off and buried his face into one of big, soft pillows.
You’re no cook, but you could have offered to help, I fumed when she quietly shut the bedroom door behind her.
He ignored me and snuggled deeper into the pillow.
***
He didn’t wake until Lorna put her hand on his shoulder to wake him.
“Food’s ready,” she said, smiling down at his sleep-lined face. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“I could eat a horse,” he replied.
Or two.
My man just loved to eat.
“You’ll have to eat cow instead. The butcher was fresh out of horsemeat.”
“That will do nicely.” Bryce grinned as he gave himself a good stretch before picking up the robe, which had somehow found itself on the floor, and slipping his arms into the sleeves.
It was a couple of inches too long for him. He had to tie it tightly at the waist to avoid tripping over the hem. Lorna had obviously had a six-footer in mind when she bought it.
“I’ll just go grab the steaks. I left them to rest for five minutes,” she told Bryce as they headed towards the dinning room. “Everything’s on the table.”
“And smells good!”
Bryce’s stomach rumbled as he took a seat at the table. You would think that he hadn’t eaten since last week.
“They aren’t big, so I did two for you.” Lorna returned wearing oven gloves and carrying two plates. “I didn’t want to wake you to ask so I did them medium. I hope that’s okay for you.”
“Just how I like them,” he assured her, his mouth watering as she placed the plate with two fairly large rib-eyes in front of him.
As ravenous as I knew he was, he shocked me by getting up and pushing the chair in for her as she sat down.
That pussy of hers must have some kind of strange voodoo powers! Bryce never, never, let a woman come between him and his food.
“If you keep feeding me like this I’ll go home, get my things and move in,” he threatened as he piled his plate with baked potatoes, roasted vegetables, two nicely brown Yorkshire puddings and ladled gravy onto everything with a heavy hand.
“I wouldn’t mind.”
“Yeah right.” Bryce sliced off a nice hunk of beef, swished it around so that it was coated with sauce and popped it into his mouth with an audible sound of appreciation.
“I’m serious.”
“Nah.” Bryce stopped chewing and stared at her.
“I am. Now that my parents have moved back home I miss the company,” she explained. “I could rent one or both of the rooms, but I don’t need the money.”
Unlike Bryce.
“Lucky for you,” he grumbled and shoved another loaded forkful into his mouth.
Just like that he was back to his old, jealous, surly self. She seemed to be rolling in cash while he was drowning in debt.
“I’m up to my eyeballs in debt,” he explained as the pause lengthened uncomfortably.
“You could give up your–,” she began.
“I have a mortgage,” he interrupted, pissed off that she’d assumed he was renting.
“Then rent it.”
“You’re crazy.”
She had to be–offering him everything he desperately wanted on a silver platter.
“I’m not.”
Bryce shook his head and continued eating.
He had massive credit card debt and a huge student loan. He had resigned himself to being in debt until he was forty. The mortgage wasn’t a problem, although he had bought the one bedroom flat when prices were at an all-time high. The market had dropped off, but the property was in a good area. If he could hold onto it, its value would eventually rise.
“Give it some thought,” she encouraged. “I know I hardly know you but it feels like we were fated to meet.”
“Fated?” Bryce put down his fork and quickly glanced around as though he was checking for the quickest escape route away from a mad person.
“We don’t have to have a relationship…if that’s what you want,” she told him. “We could be friends.”
“Friends?” he queried, doubt coating the word. “What would be in it for you?”
“Companionship. Cooking for someone else for a change was really nice.” She sighed, stuck her fork into a small floret of broccoli and ate it. “Just having someone else in the house feels good.”
“And you don’t want me to pay anything?” he confirmed.
“Nothing. Not a single bill and not for food,” she verified. “You could move in tomorrow if you like.”
“I’ll have to think about.”
He didn’t really.
What was there to think about?
Even if he stayed with her and kept his own place, he would save on bills and food.
He didn’t need to think about it.
He just didn’t want to seem too eager.
“Take all the time you need.” She smiled as she reached for her Cabernet Sauvignon. She gently swivelled the dark red liquid in the wine glass, the long stem between her fingers, inhaled the aroma and then took a sip. “There’s no time limit on the offer.”
“What would you get out of it?”
“As I said before, companionship mainly, but if it would help you financially that would make me even happier.” She smiled at his questioning look. “I know how lucky I’ve been having my parents leave this house to me. My dad was only a bus driver and my mother a school cook, but they worked hard and saved even harder. Paying a mortgage was tough for them. ‘It’s like serving a life sentence’, my mother used to say. They didn’t want that for me.”
“You’re lucky. My father went back to Jamaica when I was seven…chasing behind a woman young enough to be his daughter. People tell me that I have several younger brothers and sister. My father doesn’t keep in touch, so I have no idea. I’m my mother’s only child, but I was practically raised by my grandmother from the moment I was born. My mother didn’t even…breastfeed me.” He had to pause for a moment to regain his composure. “She didn’t want to spoil her breasts, my grandmother said. She’s here, but she would faster beg me for a pound than give me one.”
“My mother is the total opposite.” Lorna cut off a sliver of her now-cold steak and chewed it thoughtfully before continuing, “My father would kill for me. I’ve been blessed and I’m looking for a way to pay things forward.”
Bryce almost choked as his food became lodged in his throat.
When he had been a young idealist he’d lived by the ‘pay it forward’ creed: helping out at youth centres; mentoring troubled younger boys and helping in his local community in any way he could.
Then, one evening Rachel Chilton had walked into Forest Gate Youth Centre and into his life.
She had come to collect her younger brother and he’d made sure that she’d collected his number as well. Of mixed parentage, she had been stunning to look at. He had asked her out to dinner the next Friday, sure that she would refuse. She had accepted eagerly and he’d been flattered, thinking that she wanted more of his company. He’d soon realized that eating out in fancy restaurant was one of her three favourite things; being pampered and exotic holidays were the others. Caught up in the headiness of having a woman of her calibre on his arm, he had changed his life to fit around hers. Within months, he’d no longer had time and money for anything or anyone else.
He had known what a difference he’d made in many of those young boys’ lives. The guilt of walking away had never left him.
He had paid it forward, even if only for a while.
Perhaps the time had come for him to get something back.
“Give me a week to thing about it.”
He would come over to her house as often as he could in that time to get a feel for what living with her would be like.
“Absolutely not a problem,” she assured him.
He was beginning to think that it would really not be an issue for her.
And more importantly he didn’t have to be her man, if he didn’t want to.
He would fuck her when he got the urge, but after being seen out and about with Rachel on his arm, there was no way he could be seen with Lorna.
It would be like driving a Lamborghini one day and a Dacia the next.
He’d had to sell his beloved BMW 4 Series convertible to pay off a £25K high-interest credit card when no other lender would allow him a 0% interest transfer balance deal. But, unless a person was an expert or car enthusiast, they would never know that the second-hand 3 Series model he now drove cost him seven times less.
The same could not be said for Rachel and Lorna.
They were like chalk and cheese.
The only thing they had in common was their gender.
***
Ten months later, me and my man Bryce were sitting pretty and feeling on top of the world.
The letting agents had found a tenant for his place before he had fully moved out. Proving that Lorna had known what she was talking about when she’d advised him to go for one of the more upmarket, well-established property management companies.
He had argued that paying an exorbitant fee would defeat the purpose of the exercise, but she’d counter argued that paying a little extra would be more beneficial in the long term–not only was his property less likely to be vacant for any length of time, more prominent companies attracted a better class of tenant, so the property was more likely to be in good condition when it was handed back to him.
Even after they’d taken their fee, Bryce had more than enough to pay his mortgage and put a good chunk of change towards his debt, sometimes as much as £2K a month. He had predicted that he would be debt free in a year and was well on target.
He could leave Lorna tomorrow and manage on his own just fine.
She had helped in other ways too. When he’d told her about the difficulties he had had getting into a law firm to do his pupillage she had worked with him and after fifty-five rejections he was now due to start with a small law firm in three weeks.
At first she had made him angry by seeming to dismiss his claims that he couldn’t get a place because he was black. He had argued that as a black woman she was less threatening and therefore more acceptable to white employers. But he soon realized that it wasn’t that she was dismissing the idea that prejudice existed, what she was advocating was that he worked twice as hard if he wanted to get ahead. She’d graduated with a First and ensured that she worked hard to keep her place in the prestigious firm. She relished the challenge of it, she’d told him.
She and Bryce were now both looking good: he had beefy shoulders, ripped arms and a six pack; she still had her banging curves but her waist was smaller and her stomach almost flat.
They spent an hour in her home gym before leaving the house and most evenings they played a game on her Xbox or Wii Fit.
She had confessed that before he moved in she used to regularly order the set menu for four from the local Chinese takeaway and polish off most of it in one sitting. Bryce didn’t confess that he himself had lived at the local Sams–he had eaten so much fried chicken in the last year I’m amazed that he hadn’t grown feathers.
They cooked healthy meals together and ate to their hearts’ content. Though most of Bryce’s clothes were in the spare room, they spent every night in her queen-sized bed. And unlike his previous women, she had no problem with Bryce laying his head against, or fondling her breasts at odd times of the day. Nor did she have a problem with him sometimes sucking on her nipples when he fell asleep at night. She’d never disrespected him or treated him like he was less of a man for needing the comfort of her bosom.
They were having fun…until they decided to go back to the club and celebrate her twenty-sixth birthday with a few of her friends.
The first person we saw was Marlena in a short, tight, white dress, but wearing flat shoes as though she had plans to dance with a vertically-challenged man that night. I soon realized that that man was Bryce.
Lorna had obviously told her about me–why else would Marlena be suddenly and shamelessly giving Bryce come-hither looks, and right in front of Lorna?
Women never learn, no matter how many times wiser women tell them–never tell another woman, or man, how sweet your man’s cock is. It just makes them want to suck or fuck it for themselves.
Bryce danced with Lorna and Marlena almost equally. Most people watching would have thought that he was Marlena’s man, not Lorna’s. When they left the club, they walked Marlena to her car. She had driven because she couldn’t afford the £40 return fare by taxi now that she didn’t have Lorna to pay it. They had always agreed on going halves beforehand, but she couldn’t help it if her friend was a fast draw and always had the cash in her hand before Marlena could even open her purse.
Lorna stroked my head nicely on the way home and I got myself ready for some nice, juicy pussy.
But, when we got to her house Bryce said that he had to go see a friend. At that fucking time of night! And told her not to wait up, that he might sleep over and come home late tomorrow.
It was embarrassingly obvious where he was headed, but Lorna once again displayed the class I’d come to admire her for. She smiled and waved him on his way.
Bryce sped away from the house as though he was on a mission.
As soon as he was out of sight of the house, he stopped and took a piece of crumpled paper out of his back pocket. He programmed an address into the Sat Nav Lorna had bought him when she realized that he didn’t have one, and followed the directions of the woman’s insipid electronic voice.
Ungrateful fucker, I fumed. You had to sell your previous Sat Nav because of one skinny bitch, now you’re using the brand, spanking new one bought by a kind, loving BBW to chase another skinny fucking Minnie.
The door of the ground floor flat opened as soon as he pulled up to the house.
I was unsurprised to see Marlena waiting for him, decked out in a red lacy bodysuit and nothing else.
As soon as she closed the door she flung her thin arms around him. “I can’t wait to see the monster that Lorna’s been telling me about.”
Bryce kissed her as he pushed the bra of the suit aside and fondled her breast. She was so skinny her chest was concave. Her breasts looked like a ten-year-old girl’s, except they were droopy.
I was furious! He gave up nice fat pussy and big, round breasts for this!
I refused to rise to the occasion. When Marlena put her hand on me I would have bitten her if I had teeth.
My boy Bryce’s not silly, we have been together for twenty-five years and he knows immediately when I intend to act up. He knew that I would make him look like a punk if he didn’t desist.
“Sorry, I just came to tell you that Lorna and I are a couple now,” Bryce explained, moving away from Marlena’s groping hand. “I have to get back before she misses me.”
Totally lame my man Bryce. I winced. You drove half way across London to tell her that? That’s why telephones and even more conveniently mobile phones were invented–to relay messages over distance.
“Didn’t you understand what I was telling you in the club?” Marlena demanded. “You can stay here tonight, if you want to.”
“Thanks, but I can’t play your girl Lorna like that.”
“You prefer that fat heifer to me?”
“As a matter of fact I do,” he confirmed.
“You must be after her money!”
She was partly right. Bryce would have never stayed with Lorna if she didn’t have shit together, but he had never taken a penny from her. Yes, living with her was saving him a bundle, but she refused to take money even for groceries, telling him that her food bill was smaller even with him eating at her house because she wasn’t buying takeaways three or four times a week like she used to.
“I’ve never taken a cent from your friend,” Bryce denied angrily.
“You are nothing but a man whore,” Marlena retorted. “I was with her shopping the day she bought you that shirt!” She poked a bony finger at his chest. “She may not be giving you money but she is spending a ton of it on you!”
Okay, so Lorna had bought him a couple of shirts and had insisted on buying the suit he had worn for his successful interview with the law firm. The ones he’d owned were dated; the one Lorna had bought him was tailor made. Not only did it fit him perfectly, accentuating his now leaner body, its cut somehow added inches to his height. He was grateful for it, but he had made her promise not to buy him anything else.
“Lorna is generous and you know it as well as I do.” Bryce didn’t deny Marlena’s accusation, but he knew something that she didn’t realize he did. “I was at her house when you came to borrow that £1000 pounds two weeks ago.”
He had been hiding in his bedroom, partly because he was ashamed to admit that Lorna was his woman and partly because he hadn’t wanted to mess up his chance of sleeping with Marlena at some point in the future. He had heard their conversation and soon realized that Marlena made a habit of borrowing from her friend, but didn’t appear as keen to pay it back. She had been apologizing for already owing Lorna three and a half grand.
“That bitch! She never told me you were there!”
“Don’t call her a bitch!” I was surprised to hear the anger in Bryce’s voice as he headed for her front door. “She’s worth ten of you.”
“You mean she’s ten of me,” Marlena sneered and moved to slam the door in his face.
Bryce blocked it with his foot. “At least she looks like a grown woman with ripe breasts and a round butt. I would feel like a paedophile fucking you!”
He turned and walked away, leaving her spluttering with rage behind him.
***
“I thought you were staying over at your friend’s house,” Lorna muttered sleepily, turning over as we got into bed with her.
“I missed you, baby,” Bryce told her, lifting the short, barely-there nightgown and trying to slip me into her snug warmth.
Instead she pushed him away, turned on the bedside lamp and looked him over.
“That shade of lipstick is not your colour,” she informed him coolly. “And Glow smells better on Marlena than it does on you.”
“Baby, I’m sorry!”
“Did you fuck her?”
“No!”
He would have probably lied if he’d had to, but I heard the relief in Bryce’s voice and knew that he was glad that he could give her an honest answer.
“OK. I believe you this time, but don’t ever let it fucking happen again.”
“Baby, I promise you it won’t.” I was shocked to hear my man Bryce pleading–he usually told big girls straight up that he would fuck whom he liked and they had better be grateful that he was fucking them at all.
Lorna smiled suddenly. “Go have a shower.”
Bryce sagged with relief before rushing off to do her bidding.
He was back in record time, entering the room as naked as he was born and with me standing to attention, ready for some pussy.
Lorna was lying on her side, propped up high against the pillows.
Her skimpy nightgown didn’t cover her big, beautiful ass and Bryce immediately jumped onto the bed and reached for her.
“Now that you’ve stopped smelling like a French whore, we can talk.” She put her hand on his chest and held him at bay.
“Talk?” Bryce wrapped his hand around hers and placed it on my head. “I need some pussy bad, baby.”
“Not until you hear what I have to say,” she said firmly and moved her hand to his thigh.
“Talk then.” Bryce sulked as he fell back against the headboard and stared up at the ceiling. “But make it fast.”
“Do you know how sad you looked the first time I saw you?” she asked softly.
His head snapped in her direction as he asked incredulously, “I looked sad?”
“Yes,” she confirmed. “You were strutting around like you owned the world, but your eyes told a different story.”
“I wasn’t the one who invited a man to move in with her after one night of fucking,” he reminded her.
“I did that for you, not me,” she replied calmly, not taking offence as he’d expected. “You looked as though you had the weight of the world on your shoulders, like life had kicked you in the teeth.”
“Rachel, my girlfriend, had just left me,” he admitted to her for the first time.
“Rachel?” she asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “A white girl?”
“Mixed. Beautiful…and as high fucking maintenance as they come.”
“What happened?”
“She found a richer man…or a bigger fool to take care of her,” he said bitterly.
“Fool?”
“I was a complete jackass when it came to her.” He took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “I ‘maxed’ my credit cards and nearly lost my house because of her.”
“Ah!” She nodded as though she’d finally found the answer to a question that had been bothering her. “I did wonder why you had so much debt and yet so little to show for it.”
He couldn’t dispute her statement. When he had moved in, she could have clearly seen that he hadn’t owned a lot. After Rachel had left, he had taken a hard look at his finances and realized that he had to sell anything that would help keep the bailiffs from his door.
He had listed them all on eBay: jewellery, watches, clothes, shoes, iPad, Sat Nav and even his TV.
Selling his Beemer had been the hardest. He had bought it brand new and customized it to his own specifications. When he had driven around London on a warm day with the hood down and Rachel at his side, men had stared with envy. Losing it had hurt like hell. Almost as much as losing her.
“From the moment I met you I’ve been playing a game.” Lorna’s words brought him back from his reminiscence with a bump. “I know that you thought you were playing me, but we were both playing the game.”
“You were playing me?” he demanded, sitting up straighter and glaring at her. “How could you have been fucking playing me?”
“By pretending to be a weak, desperate, fat woman who would do anything just to have you. By letting you think that you could fuck me any way you choose to.” She got off the bed and stood beside it with her arms akimbo, her nipples poking through her negligee like bullets. “Well, let me tell you something, Mr Man: I love this body. Size zeroes can live on celery sticks; I will freely partake of the bounty Mother Earth has provided. And I’m as strong as fuck! Just ask anyone in my office. They don’t mess with me because they know I break balls.”
Bryce instinctively covered his crotch with his hands as he stared at her. He had never seen her angry before. She looked as though she meant business.
She looked…magnificent!
“You’ve been fucking me on the down low,” she continued. “We’ve been together for almost a year and I haven’t met any of your family or friends. I didn’t give a shit because I figured they might be just as broke ass as you.” She held up her hand when he opened his mouth to object. “And except for that first night, you have never sucked on my pussy again, although you act like you would die if I don’t give you head. Truthfully, I didn’t give a fuck because I’ve got toys that can work my clit way better than you can.”
“Why didn’t you say–?”
“Some things a woman shouldn’t have to say!” she interrupted scornfully. “I’m sure that you had your tongue all up in Rachel at every given opportunity!
“I…” Bryce couldn’t deny it. The worst thing was that Rachel hadn’t been as quick to reciprocate. Whenever she voluntarily took his cock into her mouth, he knew it was going to cost him.
“I see the way the system emasculates black men and thought if I could help just one it would be worth doing. I was going to let you stay for a year, give you a chance to get your shit together before I kicked your ass out,” she informed him.
“No, baby, no!” Bryce scrambled across the bed and tried to put his arms around her. She backed away. “Please, Lorna–”
“I don’t need a fucking man,” she told him scornfully. “I chose to give you love, tried to cherish you because it didn’t seem as though anyone else had ever done before, not because I was so fucking desperate for love myself. You walk taller and with more confidence these days. Your debt is almost clear…I was waiting to see what you would do once you didn’t need my help anymore.”
“Baby, it’s not about the money.” As he said the words, Bryce realized how true they were. He wrapped his arms around her, using his strength to keep her captive. “I never introduced you to my family because I don’t have any. At least no one close since my gran died three years ago. My friends are mostly idiots. They don’t date black women and they can’t appreciate the beauty of a woman over size 10. I was like them…a total idiot…until I met you.”
Lorna made a derisive sound in her throat and tried to break free. Bryce held her in place, firmly but effortlessly, relishing the new strength he had gained from working out regularly since he’d met her.
“I love your body,” he whispered into her ear. “Love your big, sexy breasts. Love your–”
“You just have a mother complex,” she accused.
“I don’t care what I have. I don’t care if it makes me a ‘motherfucker’.” They both laughed. “All I know is that I want you and no one else.”
“Really?” Lorna twisted out of his embrace with a sudden, hard movement and took a couple of steps backwards. “Then why did you drive all the way across London to fuck Marlena?”
“She was unfinished business that I thought I had to finish.” He took her hands in his and smiled. “I don’t. If I hadn’t gone to her house tonight, I wouldn’t have realized that.” She pulled her hands free and crossed them over her chest, looking totally unconvinced. “Baby, I know I don’t take you anywhere, but it’s because I’m working hard to clear off my debt and not because I’m ashamed of you.”
“Really?” Lorna repeated. “Anyone seeing us at the party tonight would have thought that Marlena was your woman and I was some fat friend you were doing a favour.”
She was so right he couldn’t deny it.
“I messed up big time. I know I did. But believe me, baby, back in the day there was no way in hell I would have walked away without fucking her.” He took her hands in his again. “I’m a changed man. Give me a chance to prove it to you.”
“How will you do that?”
“I wanted to surprise you, but…those two weeks I told you to take off in February? I’m taking you to Jamaica. You said that you’d never been and–”
“You want to take me to Jamaica?”
“Yes. I’ve already paid down a deposit on the trip. Once I clear my last credit card, I’m going to pay it off in full.”
“Oh, Bryce, I don’t know what to…”
For the first time in their relationship she was speechless.
“You deserve it and more.” He dropped to his knees in front of her. “And I’m going to eat your pussy so good, you’ll throw away all those fucking vibrators.”
“Oh yes?” she said, her voice challenging his words.
“And to make it up to you, not only am I going to eat your pussy every day for the next year, you won’t have to give me head in return.”
Lorna laughed at the ridiculous suggestion. “You think I don’t like giving you head? You think I don’t like hearing you scream my name like I’m your mama?”
“It’s time to show you who’s the daddy,” he threatened and lifted her bodily.
“You’ll hurt yourself,” she warned.
She was thrilled, though. It was clear to see.
“I can handle you, baby,” he boasted and threw her onto the bed to prove his point.
My man, Bryce, I thought with pride. Six months ago doing that would have given you a hernia.
He grabbed the side of her thong, ripped it and quickly did the same to the other side.
“Very caveman,” she laughed, raising herself slightly off the bed to let him pull the ruined scrap of material from under her. “Are you going to beat your chest next?”
“I’m going to beat your fat clit, baby. Give it some good licks.”
Her laughter at the double entendre quickly turned into a moan as he suited action to words.
He didn’t mess about: swirling his tongue around her clit; lashing it, pulling it into his mouth and sucking on it like a sweet, sticking two fingers deep inside her and reaching for her G-spot as he worked her clit, and then backing off just before she climaxed to start the torture again.
“Yes, baby, eat my pussy.” She buried the side of her face into the pillow as he scrapped the edge of his teeth along her clit. “Aaaah!”
She felt totally out of control.
She couldn’t anticipate what he would do one moment to the next.
Vibrators got the job done. She could control the intensity, the speed and when she came.
Control is so fucking overrated, she thought, her toes curling as she finally lost it.
“Still think your damn vibrators are better than me?” he taunted and then pushed his tongue deep inside her.
“No. No.” She squirmed and tried to push his head away. “Give me a minute.”
“You’re acknowledging that I’m better,” he confirmed.
“You’re the best, babes.”
His thumb had replaced his tongue and was creating almost as much havoc with her senses. Another climax was quickly building. She sucked in her lower lip and closed her eyes as he bent his head to take a swipe at her clit as he sunk two fingers inside her again.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
She ignored him, lost in her own pleasure.
He removed his fingers and straightened up.
The sudden loss of sensation was a shock.
Her vaginal walls cramped as they closed around emptiness.
“Open your eyes and watch me eat this motherfucking pussy.”
“I’ll watch,” she promised, cupping the back of his head and guiding him back down between her legs. “Eat it good for me, baby.”
She tried to hold his gaze as he strummed his tongue along her clit like he was beating a mini drum, and quickly lost the battle.
Arching her head back into the pillows, she lifted her hips clear off the bed and came all over his tongue.
My man Bryce was just getting started.
Rolling her limp body onto its front, he pulled her hips up and positioned her as he wanted: head on the pillows in front of her, legs together and ass in the air. He straddled her body and briefly stood admiring the way her small waist flowed smoothly out into the flare of her hips, before bending so that his knees were on either side of her hips, and positioning his cock at her entrance.
“This is going to be a rough ride, baby.”
He held her firmly by the hips as he slid slowly inside her and back out to the tip again. He repeated the motion again and again, and with increasing momentum. The muscles in his arms and legs rippled as they took the strain and soon his skin glistened with moisture.
“Oh yes, baby.” Lorna grabbed a handful of pillow on either side of her head and held on for dear life. The head of his cock was producing a flicker of sweet pain each time he buried it inside her. She tilted herself up and met his next forward thrust with a twist of her hips. “So sweet, baby. So fucking…sweet.”
She continued to tilt her behind upwards and rhythmically rotate her hips. Every time she thought she’d reached her maximum, her body tilted fractionally, driving Bryce harder and deeper.
“Yeah….yeah…yeah…yeah.” Bryce uttered the word each time he slammed his cock home.
“Fuck me, baby.” Lorna felt the tremors start deep within her. She reached beneath to finger her clit and trigger her explosion. “Fuck…me.”
“Fuck!” Bryce stiffened, trying to hold back as her pussy walls massaged his length, but it was too late. He gave her two more slams of his hips and let go. And then, weak as a kitten he collapsed onto Lorna’s back. “Fuck.”
Lowering her body to the bed, she reached around to hold Bryce’s head in place against the back of her neck. She loved the weight of his body on top of her after sex. She wanted him right there, sweat and all.
Bryce didn’t need further encouragement. He lay there for several minutes thinking how close he had come to throwing away the best thing that had ever happened to him.
It wasn’t the fact that she had money, though not having to spend his on her had caused a huge improvement in his financial position.
It was her positivity, her drive and her indomitable spirit.
She had showed him that hard work and determination do eventually pay off–if he had given up after his fifty fifth rejection, he wouldn’t now have the job he’d desperately wanted. Each time he’d failed, she had commiserated with him for a short while and then helped him work on a better strategy for the next selection process or interview.
He’d always wanted to be the big man; providing for and protecting his woman. Lorna didn’t need him to do either. He suspected that in a fight she would probably stand at his side, rather than behind him, and help kick his opponent’s ass. Instead of bothering him, the thought made him smile.
He had been so focussed on clearing the debt that had hung oppressively like an albatross around his neck, he hadn’t spent time thinking of the things he could do to please her. She wasn’t Rachel; she would have appreciated small gestures. He could have been doing so much more for her, things that would have cost him nothing but a little of his time.
Her home had every convenience, including a two-person sauna in the gym. They had a great time together staying in and enjoying the comfort of her home, but he had no doubt that she would have enjoyed a Sunday morning walk or jog together. It had never once occurred to him to suggest it.
He wasn’t a good cook, but instead of sitting, drinking a beer or a glass of wine while she did everything, he could peel or chop something. Hell, he could even let her teach him how to cook properly, so that he could surprise her with the occasional breakfast or meal in bed.
He did his own ironing because no one had ever been able to do it to his satisfaction, but he had never offered to do hers. Her work clothes were mostly expensive and dry clean only, but he had sat back and watched her iron other items. That wouldn’t happen again.
She liked to dance–he’d seen that clearly the first time they had met in the club and again tonight–but he’d never once taken her to a party on a Saturday night. It would have cost more than he was willing to pay. The admittance fee and two or three double Hennessey for her would have derailed his carefully thought out debt-clearing plan.
She would have paid in a heartbeat, he knew, but he had too much pride to stand back and let a woman pay for him. Though, if he’d asked, she would have given him a wad of cash in advance to cover their expenses for an evening out to save him embarrassment. But, she was already doing way too much for him. He couldn’t take her money, too.
She had a state-of-the-art sound system. Yet, he had never once selected some music from her extensive library, dimmed the lights and taken her into his arms and slow danced.
That would have cost him nothing.
And boy did she know how to shake her ass off! Marlena rubbing herself all over him hadn’t distracted him from noticing the men checking Lorna out on the dance floor when she had been dancing with her girlfriends. Even when he was dancing with her, his hands resting comfortably on her butt, some men had been watching them on the sly. Lorna had worn flats and with his trusty inserts, he had been taller than her.
The men hadn’t been watching because he and Lorna made an odd couple, he realized, a smile breaking out on his face. They had been envious.
He had been paranoid about her putting on a pair of the high heels she loved and making him look like a young boy out with his mother. But without any prompting from him, she had worn flat shoes and he had breathed a big sigh of relief.
But he knew how much she loved her heels. She had dozens of pairs: sexy, feminine ones for play and sturdier, more no-nonsense ones for work. They elongated her legs and made them look ten times better.
All of her friends, except Marlena, had been wearing high heels in the club.
She had worn the flat shoes for him. The next time they went out, he would insist on her wearing some sexy heels. Hell, if celebrities like Kevin Hart and Pharrell Williams could walk around proudly with their arms around women who towered over them, so could he!
Lorna’s kindness still amazed him. And it wasn’t just him. Once they’d been chatting while she cooked their Sunday dinner and she’d mentioned the amount she paid to various charities through payroll giving, and he’d almost fallen off the kitchen stool. She’d explained that most of it would have been taken in taxes anyway, but he had still winced–the amount was almost half of his salary.
Her heart was as big as an ocean.
She was big hearted and badassed.
Big assed, too.
And big breasted.
She was big everywhere.
He smiled at the thought.
Well, big everywhere except…
Fuck time again! I stirred as soon as Bryce’s thoughts strayed to Lorna’s sweet, tight, wet pussy.
He covered her hand with his, brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles before sliding to the side and off her body. “Turn over, sweetness.”
Lorna obligingly rolled onto her back.
Her nightgown had ended up around her upper chest and neck. Bryce carefully lifted her arms one and then the other and took it off her.
“This one is on me,” he said as he got on top of her. “Just lie back and enjoy.”
“You’re on fire tonight.” Lorna laughed and spread her legs further apart so that he could settle more comfortably between them.
“On fire only for you, babes.”
He cupped her head and kissed her like he hadn’t seen her in years. She kissed him back, wondering what had gotten into him.
His hands roamed her body, finding places to caress and linger before going on.
And all the while his tongue was playfully battling with hers or plunging deep into her throat, or he was nibbling on her lips.
Why was he suddenly being Mr Tender Lover?
And why was she worried when she’d secretly longed to see this side of him?
He kissed his way down to her breasts as he hooked her right leg over his hip.
“Put it into my mouth,” he told her as his lips hovered centimetres away from her hard nipple.
He was close enough to do it himself, but Lorna cupped her breast and offered him the erect bud. He sucked it into his mouth as he slid into her, inch by slow inch.
Instead of withdrawing when he reached the pinnacle, he remained sheathed and slowly circled his hips, pressing deliciously against her clit while giving her his full length.
“Oh, yes.” Lorna closed her eyes and relaxed back against the softness of the pillows behind her.
It was bliss having him treat her like he thought she could break. His lovemaking had gentled from the initial ‘rough and ready’, but had lacked real tenderness until now. She had known that he was battling numerous demons. Perhaps he had finally beaten a few tonight.
She smiled as she slipped her hand under her other breast as he changed nipple. Demon or fetish, she didn’t think that he would ever leave her nipples in peace.
As he started to slowly stroke back and forth inside her, she visualized the funny picture they would make to an onlooker. They were practically the same height, but bizarrely his legs were longer than hers, though men tended to have shorter legs than women of the same height.
His head barely reached past her breasts when they were in the missionary position. At first they had both been a little self conscious about it, but they’d soon realized that it was the best of circumstances–he was happiest with his head on or near her breasts.
Bryce was now thrusting smoothly in and out of her. Every time he came to the precipice, he pulled himself back from the edge. Changing positions: alternating her legs on his shoulders, then placing them both there; positioning her on the end of the bed and taking her from the front and then the back; lying back and letting her ride him as he sucked on her nipples and then finally moving into the missionary position again and driving himself into her with more vigour until she clamped around him and triggered a ball-cramping climax.
“I think your pussy’s got me hypnotized,” he said a few minutes later as he snuggled his face deeper into her bosom. “I used to jerk off every chance I got. Even in the toilets at work. Now I don’t want to come unless I’m inside you.”
“You poor thing,” Lorna chuckled and kissed the top of his head.
Bryce still couldn’t believe how much he enjoyed curling up with a woman to sleep. In the past he always turned his back on his sleeping partner, even Rachel. For one thing, he feared that they would accidentally knee him in the balls.
They had all been flesh and bone with no cushion; Lorna was firm but soft and he loved nothing better than to sink into her warm flesh. Her breasts made the best pillow ever. These days he slept like a log; before he used to go to bed at midnight and be up, tossing and turning, two or three hours later.
“Would you take Rachel back if she wanted you?” Lorna asked about an hour later, her voice low and thick with sleep and exhaustion.
He barely made out the words, but his answer was immediate and decisive, “Hell, no!”
“Good.” Lorna sounded surprised and pleased at his response.
It surprised the hell out of him too.
All he’d wanted and prayed each waking day for seven months was that Rachel would come back. The fact that she treated him badly hadn’t mattered. As a matter of fact, the more she treated him badly, the more love he’d felt for her. She hadn’t cared about his feelings, hadn’t cared about leaving him without a word and in debt to his eyeballs.
She had left him so bitter, he had harboured a secret malice against women. Lorna had borne the brunt of that spite–not in a verbally or physically abusive way–in the offhand, careless manner he had treated her. Rachel had turned him into the person who had felt the need to treat someone else as badly as he had been treated.
No, he didn’t want her back for anything.
And he certainly wouldn’t leave Lorna for her.
He wouldn’t leave Lorna for anyone.
She treated him like a king.
She made him feel ten feet tall.
And her pussy…damn if he could ever get enough of it!
I smiled to myself, almost limp but still nestled in her welcoming heat.
Just as I’d predicted.
Like a dealer giving free cocaine to a user to get him hooked, Lorna had given him the pussy freely and now he’s addicted to her crack.
He hadn’t seen the danger of BBW loving.
He hadn’t understood that once you go BBW, you can’t go back.
He had been blissfully unaware that he was being totally and utterly turned out!
*****
The End