Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
He shrugs.
“Well, I wasn’t going to offer you money as in cold, hard cash. I was going to offer you a recommendation for graduate school from the Pope himself. And in addition to that, I’ll pay for tuition for however many years, if you’re interested. That is, only if you’re interested. Of course, money can’t buy you everything, but I’m sure that a recommendation from the pontiff can’t hurt.”
I gape at him.
“How did you know I was thinking about applying to Ph.D. programs in religion?” I whisper. “I haven’t told anyone about it.”
He grins.
“Let’s just say a little bird told me,” he says smoothly. “This is the Billionaires Club, sweetheart, and we know everything. But what do you think of my offer?”
I stop to ponder, ignoring the fact that I’m currently chest to chest with Carver, my nipples trailing through his chest hair. His enormous cock is still buried between my pussy lips but I’m no longer throbbing and aching with need. Instead, I’m imagining possibilities. Me, freed from student debt. Me, going on for a graduate degree when no one else in my family has even finished college. Me, with the Pope’s recommendation in my file.
“The Pope doesn’t know me,” I say slowly. “How could he possibly write me a recommendation?”
Carver shoots me an indulgent grin.
“Sweetheart, he doesn’t have to know you. He just has to meet you once, and then one of his assistants will write the letter for you. Imagine that: a recommendation from the Vatican with the Vatican’s seal and Papal stamp. Who wouldn’t do a double take when seeing that?”
I feel dizzy and light-headed but make myself stay upright in his lap.
“Okay fine. But what would this competition entail?” I ask in a tight voice. “Who’s in it? And do we sign a contract or something?”
Carver grins.
“First things first, sweetheart. This competition is with girls you already know: Amelia and those triplets.”
“Amelia?” I sputter. “She’s agreed to this?”
Carver grins, flashing that movie star smile again.
“Well, she will after my friend Evan gets through with her. And yes, those triplets will be competition too, which is why we have to get you stretched out.”
“But there’s three of them!” I gasp. “How is that fair?”
Carter shrugs.
“Each girl is her own team. If anything, they’re at a disadvantage because their host, my friend Brett, is going to have to coach all three of them through the competition.”
I almost stop breathing for a moment.
“So you’re my coach?” I ask slowly.
“Of a sort,” Carter drawls lazily.
I stare at him.
“And what does that mean?”
He shrugs, like a man without a care in the world.
“The usual. I get you warmed up, stretched out and relaxed for the main event, and then after you win, I get the glory of knowing that I helped groom a champion.”
I narrow my eyes at him.
“I’m not a show pony, Carver. I’m not going to bounce and trot just because you say giddyup.”
But that’s where things go off the rails because the billionaire gets a knowing gleam in his eyes then.
“Oh really?” he says in a low voice while trailing one large finger down my nipple. Shamefully, the pink crest hardens and pops right back up, as if dying for his mouth. “Well, if I’m not your coach, then I’m not sure what I am. But that’s okay sweetheart, because I think it’s time to practice for this dirty competition regardless of my title. Are you ready?”
And before I can reply, the billionaire’s mouth descends upon mine and I cry out in pleasure at his masterful touch.
8
Carver
It’s almost the end of Ava’s three month stay on the island and she’s been a star student. She’s absolutely luscious and gorgeous, with curves that bounce and cream, not to mention that she’s delightfully responsive.
“Oh Carver,” she moaned last night while twisting in the sheets. “Just like that, yes.”
I’d finished with a roar, spending myself inside the sweet girl. But now, it’s time for the real thing. It’s competition day and I have no doubt that we’ll win because we’ve been practicing non-stop day and night. During her waking hours, Ava walks around with a toy inside her pussy, stretching her out. Then at night, I insert a number of different dildos before taking her with my cock. She screams and writhes but is always able to juice heavily while accepting my length.
And that’s why I think we’re going to win. I have a massive tool, ten inches long and as wide at the base as a soda can. Most women aren’t able to take me all the way. They’re only able to accommodate five or maybe six inches. Some can go up to eight, but only the sweet Ava has been able to cushion the full ten like a champion.
She smiles shyly at me while taking my arm. The luscious girl is dressed in nothing but a filmy robe, the dusky vee at her thighs totally visible through the transparent material. She’s wearing kitten heels that help pop her breasts forward, with her hair hanging in ringlets down her back. How I selected such a gorgeous, slutty woman, I’ll never know.