The Big O (An OTT Insta-love STANDALONE) (4 page)

I was still recovering from my very first kiss, his movie star kiss, my body trembling with need and want, as he set me back down on the couch.

“Lie down, my princess,” he ordered, his gaze devouring me. Hunger glinted in his jewel-toned eyes.

As gracefully as I could, I repositioned myself so that I was spread out across the couch. A pillow rested under my head.

“How will you know if I’m a good fit?” God, I wanted this job so badly I could taste it. But not as badly as I wanted this sex god’s mouth all over me. Lust pulsed through my bloodstream, my heart beating as fast as a jackrabbit’s. I’d never felt this way about a man before.

A wicked smile played on his lips. “I’m going to find out now. But first you need to answer one job interview question.” He paused. “Are you on birth control?”

I nodded, too afraid to ask what this query had to do with a job. I’d been on the pill for a long time to help with my menstrual cramps.

“Good.” Smiling, he told me he’d been tested and was clean, whatever that meant, then looked me up and down, his laser-sharp eyes lingering on places they shouldn’t be. I felt myself flushing.

“Mr. King, are you sizing me up?”

He chuckled. “You could say that. Your sense of humor is very refreshing.”

My acting teacher said I was a natural-born comic. Having been laughed at most of my life, I’d developed a sense of humor as a defense mechanism. It had helped me become thick-skinned, no pun intended.

“Thanks.” I tried to act as cool and calm as possible. But on the inside, I was falling apart. I’d never had such a powerful, instant attraction to a man, and my body didn’t know how to handle it, especially when he was mentally undressing me.

He then growled like a hungry bear. My already rapid heartbeat quickened.

His hand moved to his fly. My wide, unblinking eyes never strayed from him as he unbuttoned it and then zipped it down. The grating sound of the separating metal teeth sent goosebumps to my flesh. My breasts quivered. As still as my heart could be, I watched as he shoved his pants down along with his boxers in a single swift move. My breath hitched in my throat while my eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Holy guacamole! His cock was now pointing right at me. Okay, I was no expert on cocks, but his was big. I’m talking humongous. Maybe the mother of all cocks. I let out an audible gasp and then shifted my eyes to his. I desperately needed a cold shower.

“What do you think, Olive?”

He expected me to think? Say something when this monstrosity was practically in my face? Okay, maybe this was all part of the job interview. I prayed to God. Please let me find my voice. I needed this job. And I needed him. Thank goodness, God heard me.

“Mr. King, I must say you look much bigger in person than you do on TV.”

He cast his eyes down at his cock, curling one of his large hands around the thick base. “Yes, Olive. An excellent observation. I’m a
lot
bigger.” He put special emphasis on the word “lot.” Trust me, there truly was no need.

“Okay, Olive, now let’s find out if you’re a good fit.” His pants halfway down his legs, he inched closer to me. I could smell his virility. A combination of his natural scent and an expensive woodsy cologne. I wanted it everywhere. If I could bottle it, I would douse my entire body with it. With him. Eyeing me lustfully, he continued.

“If indeed you are, one of your job requirements will be to wear a skirt or dress to work everyday. I don’t believe in dressing casually. It takes away from job performance and efficiency. Do you agree?”

I nodded like a stupid bobble head doll, thanking my lucky stars that I’d decided at the last minute to throw on a skirt to look like a “professional” respondent. Plus, a skirt helped camouflage my size. With another swift move, he shoved it up, exposing my big girl undies and my ample thighs. A shiver skittered down my spine.

He shook his head and tsked. “Olive, Olive, Olive.”

All hope of a job evaporated. My heart sank to my stomach. Damn my fat thighs!

“My princess, your legs are spectacular, but those panties have to go. So let’s get rid of them now.”

I tried processing his words, but had no time. On my next heated breath, my Fruit of the Loomers were gone. Ancient history. Torn off my big bottom with his bare hands like a Neanderthal. I didn’t need to glance down to know my pussy was fully exposed. Holy moly! And the worst thing was I didn’t mind. What on earth was wrong with me? I was lying here, half naked, letting a man I knew for less than a half hour undress me and I was loving every minute. I tried to relax as he crawled onto the couch.

Sitting back on his calves, the eye of his cock stared into my face while those below his thick brows stayed glued to my pussy. Focused on the little patch of flax between my inner thighs.

He caressed it, the tender touch of his fingertips making me all aflutter.

“Wow. You’re a natural blond.” He brushed his fingertips against my silky cluster of curls, polishing the shimmering triangle as if it were gold. “And you’re so buttery soft.”

“Thanks,” I peeped.

“Now, Olive, spread your legs,” he ordered, “or I’ll spread them for you.”

No need. The way he looked at me with such lust and warmth in his eyes made me want to please him. Make him happy so I obliged.

Every nerve in my body buzzed as his fingertips moved to my pussy and began to stroke the sensitive folds.

Oh my God! Squirming with the delicious pleasure he was giving me, I let out a moan.

“Jesus, Olive, you’re so fucking hot and wet for me. You’re dripping with need and desire.”

Then he moved his thumb to my clit and began to vigorously rub it. Call 911. I was on fire. I bit down on my lip to stifle another moan, but the erotic sound escaped anyway.

“Are you okay, Olive?” he asked in his deep voice, picking up his pace.

Panting, I nodded once again. Was I
really
okay? Capital N-O! I was out of mind. Lying here with my legs spread with a devastating stranger, who had just destroyed my panties and now was playing with my most private parts. Giving me exquisite sensations that were sending me orbiting. The real shocker, I was letting him. In fact, I was aching for more.

“Please don’t stop,” I cried out, so close to coming.

He smiled. “You’re doing great, Olive.”

“Does that mean I get the job?”

“We’re about to find out.”

Without warning, he withdrew his hand from my pussy. His fingers were glistening with my juices.

“Wait! What are you doing?”

My eyes widened as he licked his soaked thumb.

“Mmm. You taste delicious. I should glaze my donuts with your sweet icing.” After another lick, he circled his long fingers around the base of his giant shaft. Let me tell you, this was no Twinkie. It was hard and rigid like a steel rod.

“Next activity,” he said as he rubbed it along the spots where his thumb had been, coating the tip with my slickness.

As I sucked in a breath, he lifted one of my legs over a broad shoulder, spreading me further. He then anchored his hand on the back of the sofa, and with the other, inserted his humongous cock inch by thick inch into my entrance, stretching me apart.

“Oh my God,” I wailed, with equal parts shock, pain, and want.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted, pushing his cock in deeper. “Relax, princess.”

Was he kidding? Relax? When his enormous cock was ripping me apart? Should I tell him? Rather than overthinking it, I gave into the moment and the gorgeous beast of a man, who was about to change my life.

Slowly but surely, by the time he hit my womb, my inner muscles relaxed and were clenching around his enormous erection with little discomfort.

“You feel so fucking amazing,” he hissed as he slid his length back down.

“You do too.” A girl with an appetite, I’d never felt so sated.

On the next beat of my heart, he was pummeling me like a barbarian, hitting some magic spot inside me I never knew I had. I heard myself moaning and groaning, then the moans and groans morphed into whimpers as an orgasm began to build, the intensity so great I didn’t think I could hold on.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!” I breathed out over and over. Holy smoke! My “O”-for-ovaries were going to implode.

As my orgasm broke loose, giant waves of ecstasy rolled through my body, taking every molecule with them. I balled the fabric of his jacket as three tiny words escaped my throat: “I love you.” A whirl of psychedelic colors spun in my head. Even in my delirious state, I was conscious I’d said them and I knew I couldn’t take them back. Perhaps, our moans, groans, and pants drowned them out. Okay, confession. Who was I fooling? I meant them. At this moment, I loved this man with my heart and my soul, both body and mind.

“I’m not done with your sweet little pussy. You’re going to come for me again,” he growled, not slowing down his pace. “And again.”

“Okay,” I managed as he continued to pound me. I still couldn’t believe what was happening. That I was letting this man ravage me. My burning want and need for him negated any second-guessing or rationality. And so did my ecstasy. I was drawn to him like a magnet, unable to resist.

“This time, I want to hear you scream out my name,” he breathed against my neck, pumping harder and faster, his balls slapping against my clit. I could no longer hold back.

“O-O-O-O-O-wen!” His name spilled out of my mouth in frantic pants as he took me over the edge yet again. With one more deep thrust of his hot pulsing length, I exploded with an encore, my body, convulsing with his, my heart beating out of my chest.

His own explosive orgasm met mine with a sonorous sigh of my name. So beautiful…like a song. Emptying himself, he collapsed upon me, his large body caging me.

After several long minutes in this position, he whispered in my ear. “You’re a perfect fit, my Olive. The job is yours.”

As much as I should have been thrilled, uncertainty dampened my spirits. Was his heart also mine? He was all I wanted. I was head over heels in love.

H
oly shit. I’d fucked a lot of women. But I’d never fucked a woman like Olive.

She was so hot, so wet, and so tight. I swear she felt like a virgin, but I knew with the way she fucked me there was no way. The thought of another man fucking this ravishing woman sent my heartbeat into a frenzy as I cleaned myself up in my private bathroom. A red streak made me think she might be starting her cycle, but that didn’t make fucking her any less delicious. My soft cock felt much like a fresh jelly donut…sticky, gooey, and still warm from the oven.

When I re-entered my office, Olive was straightened up on my couch, her skirt pulled down over her shapely thighs. Her pretty face still flushed, she sat cross-legged with a notepad on her lap. God, she was cute. Ready to get started. I had to fight back the urge to uncross those legs, hike up her skirt, and fuck her all over again. My cock flexed at the thought, remembering she was pantyless. Just a thin piece of fabric separated my cock from her pussy. My cock grew twitchy.

She gazed up at me with those chocolate brown eyes. “Sir, should we go over my job responsibilities?”

Her voice was so sweet, genuine, and pure. Like homemade powdered sugar. I pondered her question.
Let’s see, I want you to let me fuck you senseless, make my babies, and give me blowjobs on command.
Trying to control these lewd thoughts and my arousal, I cleared my throat.

“The usual, Olive. Coffee and a donut first thing in the morning…screen my phone calls…answer my emails…set up my meetings. I expect you to obey and not question my orders. Can you handle this?”

Her face brightened. “Oh yes, sir. I’ve been waitressing, so I’m really good at taking orders.”

So, she was into serving people. I liked that about her. In fact, it was one of the many things I already loved about her.

“And there will be some major assignments which I’ll expect you to complete.” I paused as something came to mind with urgency. “Like your first one.”

While she kept her eyes on me, I ambled over to my desk and opened the top drawer. I pulled out the black silk mask I sometimes used for an occasional nap and then slammed it shut. Scrunching the mask in my hand, I headed back to her, thinking maybe I should have just fucked her over my desk. Maybe later.

“Olive,” I said, looming over her. “On your knees.”

Wordlessly, she did as I asked. She looked up at me. With my six-foot-four frame, I towered over her.

“Yes, sir?” she squeaked, the expression on her face communicating how eager she was to please me.

“Have you ever done a blind taste test?”

“No, sir. I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s very simple, Olive.” I unfolded the mask. “I’m going to put this mask on you and you’re going to taste something. When you’re done sampling what I share with you, you’re going to describe the experience and tell me how it compared to other similar experiences. Your opinions, much like in the focus group, will likely prove to be very valuable.”

She smiled that adorable dimpled smile. “Ooh, that sounds like fun. I’ve done stuff like that at the restaurants I’ve worked at. You know, tried out two versions of the same dish to help the chef or owner decide which one tasted better.”