Curve Lullaby (A BBW Billionaire Wicked Short) (2 page)

Flaming red hair spilled across a bed pillow. Pale white flesh, clearly every bit as padded as Betty’s body, was partially hidden by the muscular male body atop her. Both Charlotte and the male actor were naked. He had her legs pushed apart, his cock buried between them.

Back arrow -- PLAY.

Exhaling slowly, I tried to stop the quiver rolling through my body as the
Sleeping Beauty Productions
credits appeared on the screen. I watched Charlotte stop at a hotel on a dark highway. The same actor who had been fucking her in that last image handed her a key across the hotel’s front desk. I fast forwarded through her undressing and pulling a bottle of sleeping pills from her purse. I kept fast forwarding as she swallowed one and settled into a deep sleep in which she toyed with her body as the door to her hotel room slowly pushed open.

The actor peeked inside the room, his tongue wetting his lips when he realized she was masturbating in her sleep. I hit play as he slid onto the bed next to her, his hand replacing hers between the plump thighs. He kissed Charlotte in her sleep, his fingers stroking deep into her pussy as his thumb pressed up and down her clit.

So wrong. So very wrong.

I closed the video player once more, determined it was the final time. Frustrated tears brimming my eyes, I returned to the main Sleeping Beauty folder and counted how many subfolders it contained.

Fifty-eight!

My philanthropist boss -- who could pretty much have any woman he wanted -- had fifty-eight files of sleeping women, probably all of them large-bodied beauties. My cheeks flushed hot and frustrated tears escaped my eyes.

Two years of working for Cole and not once had he looked at me in any way that wasn’t good-natured professionalism. Even if he liked big girls, he wasn’t interested in me. At least not while I was awake.

Scowling, my gaze landed on the last folder. My brain did a double take at the name.

Sweet Titania

Cole had hired me because I was an English Lit major. The HR manager had showed her displeasure at his even interviewing me, telling me I probably wouldn’t get the job because an understanding of economics and supply chains and a billion other business sounding things were required. I had entered his office that long ago day in a cold sweat and furious I’d wasted time and money to show up.

An hour and a half later, I had walked out of his office with my first job after graduating college and at a salary twice what I expected. I also left knowing Cole was a major Shakespeare fan and I had barely bested him in an impromptu quote contest of the Bard’s works. So the name of the Queen of the Fairies in
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
on a porn folder jumped out at me.

Unable to resist, I clicked straight to the movie and started watching. Unlike Betty and Charlotte, the setting wasn’t contemporary. An armored knight approached a castle on horseback. The drawbridge was down. Everywhere he passed, he encountered people who had seemingly fallen under a spell as they went around their daily business, their bodies frozen in sleep as they slouched over a harp or rested next to a broom.

He passed lords and ladies -- beautiful, thin ladies in fine gowns, their throats and hands covered in jewels, some with their clothes in disarray. On he went, up the tower’s spiraling stairs to its highest floor. He forced a door open by throwing his suited body against it over and over until the thick wood surrendered.

I hardly breathed as he approached the bed and pulled back the heavy silk curtains. The camera looked in on a sleeping woman. Dressed in red silk, she slept against more red silk, her blonde hair fanning across the pillow next to her.

Slowly, the knight removed his armor. When he lifted his helmet, I gasped at the dark brown hair with its thick waves because it reminded me so much of Cole. My nipples brushed against my bra and blouse as they thickened and my breathing grew heavier. I waited, rolling my lips between my teeth as the knight shed the rest of his clothing.

He had built up a sweat walking the steps and battering the door. Drops of perspiration glistened on his tan skin. I pressed pause so I could slowly devour the details of his body. Long powerful legs, a broad chest that narrowed at the waist.

Seeing just how similar he was in form to Cole, I squirmed against the leather seat and quickly resumed watching the movie. The knight pulled the bedding away from the sleeping blonde. Seeing that her nightgown went all the way down to her ankles, he retrieved a small blade from his pile of clothing on the floor.

Slowly, he cut the fabric from her body...

My hand dipped from the mouse to my clenching thighs. A groan escaped as I realized there wasn’t enough give in the front panel of my skirt for me to spread my legs and press against my mound through the fabric. Casting a guilty glance at the office door, I reached along Cole’s desk and clicked a button on the remote.

Hearing the mechanical sound of the door locking, I lifted my bottom just enough to pull my skirt up to my hips. With my attention back on the computer screen, I shoved my hand down my panties just as the knight spread the blonde’s legs.

Time seemed to slow as he leaned over and fondled her breasts, his knee pressed between the split of her legs to rub against her mound. The woman began to move in her sleep, riding his knee as her bottom did a dance of short circles. He pulled away, smiling as she moaned in a low, mournful manner.

Lowering his head to her mound, he pinched her labia apart to show the camera how wet her pussy had become. Then he licked it, making it even wetter and earning him another moan from her sleeping lips. He licked again, his fingers exploring her wet interior as I rubbed my own frantically up and down my clit.

Fuck!

I couldn’t remember the last time I had been so turned on. My fantasies of Cole had always been hot, but it had been harder and harder for me to come thinking about him, knowing I could never hope to interest him beyond poetry and good deeds. Now, with the dark haired knight and the blonde sleeper so close in coloring to me, my entire body was on fire with need. My ass lifted and bobbed in the chair. I wanted something in my pussy but, casting my gaze around, I couldn’t find anything.

I rubbed harder, listening to both of the actors moaning and grunting as the knight moved up her body and pushed his thick cock into her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I pinched at my nipples as I rubbed at my clit, hoping the pain would draw me away from the deeper ache in my empty cunt long enough that I could come. The knight found relief before I did, my body still painfully aroused as he rolled the blonde onto her stomach.

Seeing him spread the cheeks of her full bottom, a strangled cry clawed its way up my throat. His tongue pushed between the cheeks, its tip lightly stroking at her anus as he fucked his fingers into her pussy.

The chair protested beneath me as my hand picked up speed. I pressed hard against my clit, fingers moving in a blur as the knight’s dirty little backside kiss brought the sleeper’s eyes open. She cried out in ecstasy and I joined her a second later, liquid squirting from me to wet the leather beneath my round bottom.

Too aroused to be mortified that I’d just squirted on a three-thousand dollar chair, I continued to punish my sore cunt, rubbing at it as the knight pulled the sleeper’s sweet ass onto his thick cock, roughly fucking her until her moans and delighted screams brought the entire castle awake and I squirted a second, and then a third, time.

With every bone in my body melted by the heat of my arousal, I collapsed into the chair as the naked couple made their way down the staircase hand in hand.

A barking laugh disturbed me, more so when I realized I was the one making the harsh noise. My cream still moist on my thighs, I closed the movie and erased the file history. With the evidence of my trespass clear from the computer, I straightened my clothes and carefully cleaned Cole’s chair, blushing furiously the entire time.

Finished, I looked at the clock, shocked at how much time had passed. I had less than ninety minutes to find the real South Bend file and get the preliminary report finished before Cole was back in the office.

Planting my ass in his chair once more, I realized how sensitive my flesh remained, how much my cunt and nipples ached with the need for more rubbing. Blowing a blonde strand of hair obscuring my vision, I forced my hands to the keyboard and typed every variation of “South Bend” I could think of in the folder finder until I finally came upon “South Vend” and laughed.

One small typo, one giant discovery of my boss’s secret kink.

**********

Five minutes after I finished printing the report and walking it on shaky legs to Cole’s desk, he sauntered past my desk.

“I have something for you, sweetling.”

He kept walking, forcing me to follow after him. Filled with apprehension, I watched him settle into the chair I’d made a mess of less than two hours before. His mouth dipped at one corner as he fiddled with the levers below the seat that would lower it and keep his knees from hitting his desk.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “Forgot to put it back.”

Picking up his carry-on, he waggled his eyebrows at me as he unzipped the bag. “Seat’s still warm.”

I felt my cheeks color with an embarrassed rush of blood. If the chair was dry, I didn’t care how warm it was. Except I didn’t want him wondering why I had sat at his desk for so long.

“I started on the art center’s project after I finished South Bend,” I lied. “But I couldn’t get the Excel file to work. I didn’t know one spreadsheet could even have that many fields!”

“I’m not sure about that project.” Reaching into his bag, he removed a small box wrapped in gold-colored paper. Placing it on the desk, he slid it toward me. “Let’s send the file to the forensic accounting team first and make sure all that data isn’t hiding something.”

Nodding, I wrapped my hand around the box. It wasn’t unusual for Cole to bring me little presents when he’d been gone for a few days. He knew I had to work extra hours when he was gone. The number of messages tripled and I often had to spend time at his desk finding one file or another to send to him or fax to someone else. Extra money found its way into my paycheck at those times, too, but the gifts were his personal way of thanking me.

Grinning at him as I unwrapped the present, I somehow managed to put aside the memory of me sitting at his desk earlier that day, skirt around my hips and my hands down my underwear. Pulling out the dark brown perfume bottle with its golden cap, the memory came back in a hot rush.

V by Clive Christian

Not even two ounces, I knew the bottle cost at least four-hundred dollars. I offered a small laugh as I started to return the perfume to its box. “Thank you, but you weren’t gone that long.”

Stretching an arm across the desk, he stopped me. Gently, he pulled the box from my hand. The dark steel eyes glittered like the edge of a sharp blade as he settled against the back of his chair. Crooking a finger at me, he smiled.

“Come here.”

How many fantasies of mine starring the man in front of me had started with those same words and gesture?

At least a dozen.

Fighting the urge to blush or run from the room crying in embarrassment, I meekly rounded the desk to stand in front of him. Capturing my wrist, Cole applied a trace of the perfume to my heating flesh.

Leaning in, he inhaled deeply, his eyes drifting shut as he did. “They say the
V
is for the initial of the creator’s daughter, but I think they’re lying.”

Releasing my hand, he looked up at me, mirth warming his gaze. “What do you think?”

I brought my hand up to my face and took a whiff. Orange blossom curled across my senses, followed an instant later with the deeper scent of rose and a small polish of chamomile. “It’s lovely, but you really weren’t gone that long. It was a light week overall.”

His lips pursed as he returned the box with its expensive perfume to my waiting hand. Reaching into his bag, he spoke over his shoulder at me. “But not a light weekend, I’m afraid.”

“Oh,” I answered, seeing the very thick folder he pulled from the bag. My chest deflated slightly and I realized I was disappointed. His gifts usually weren’t so personal or expensive. Subconsciously, I had read more meaning into the perfume than I was aware of. And the real meaning was that he wanted me to work at least part of the weekend.

He handed the folder to me. “The DC area MWR sent me this.”

I nodded. MWR stood for Morale, Welfare and Recreation, an organization that worked to improve the lives of military families. I had fielded calls from their office earlier that week.

“They had funding for temporary housing near Walter Reed for family members that fell through at the last minute.” A deep frown etched its way across his handsome features. “If they don’t replace the funds by the end of next week, they’ll lose matching funds that have been pledged.”

My stomach hollowed as I flipped through the folder. The housing was for family members of soldiers at Walter Reed for medical treatment. A lot of them were soldiers returning from the war who would need surgeries and rehabilitation before returning home.