Turned Out! (BBW Erotic Romance) (3 page)

I relaxed some of my tension and let her stroke me.

***

B
ryce 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.

***

H
e 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.

***

T
en 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.