Delivering the Virgin(14)

Fuck, twenty pounds? That'd make my body go from curvy to Jessica Rabbit proportions, I'd be poking out here, there, everywhere.

And that's exactly what the big man wanted, judging from the way he was  eyeing my bod while nodding to himself, licking his lips as if  anticipating the extra acreage, the extra mileage he'd get if I had a  couple pounds more.

"Fuck yeah," he confirmed. "Twenty more pounds," he rumbled.

And I just shook my head, rolling my eyes.

"Tucker, with twenty extra I'd be busting out of all my clothes. If you  think I'm busting out now, just wait and see with another twenty."

But the big man just laughed. "Do it for me baby," he whispered into my  ear. "Put on that extra poundage for me and I promise I'll buy you a  whole new wardrobe, whatever you want, clothes, shoes, everything."

I just rolled my eyes again because there was no way Tucker could afford  it on his salary. He was a delivery man and there was no way NYC  Concierge could be paying him enough to outfit me with a whole new set  of clothes.

But I let it go because my stomach had growled again and I was really,  really hungry. While we were talking, he'd led me to the dining room and  the décor took my breath away. Oh fuck, there was an exquisite dining  set, all gleaming mahogany, set with silverware that sparkled and shone,  dishware so fine it was like looking through an eggshell.

But the food itself was even more appetizing. Because Tucker had ordered  pizza, sure, but this wasn't Domino's or Round Table. Three steaming  pies were laid out on the table, three artisanal pizzas with fancy  toppings like arugula and Iberico ham interspersed with blobs of the  finest hand-thrown mozzarella.

"Oh my god, what is this?" I asked dumbfounded. Again, I'm a girl who  usually eats Little Caesars, so this was about ten steps up. "Where'd  you get this?" I asked, my mouth watering already, the savory tomato  scent tickling my nostrils.

And the big man just grinned.

"Baby, I said beer and pizza but I wasn't going to order fast food or  any shit like that. Hell no, I want you to eat your fill, how else to  put on twenty pounds?" he added wickedly, throwing a sly glance my way.  "This stuff is from an artisanal pizza place down the street that also  brews their own beer, here take a sip," he offered.

And I licked my lips as he filled a stein with the amber liquid, the  glass immediately beading with sweat. Fuck, it looked good and I  couldn't wait to feel the beer trickling down my throat, I was hardly  the hoity-toity type who only drinks wine from France. I mean, I love  wine and wouldn't turn down a glass but I like beer too, I'm happy with a  Bud or a Coors Light on occasion, it's a throwback to my roots. So I  nodded happily as Tucker topped off the stein, careful blowing on the  foam before handing it over to me.

"Mmm," I moaned as I took a gulp of the good stuff. "Mmm," I moaned  again. It was frothy with a deep earthy scent, exactly as beer should  be. And my eyes flipped open to find the big man staring at me.

"Fuck," he rasped harshly. "It was like seeing you drink my sperm, how much you love it, how you eat it up."

And I smiled wickedly at him.

"I do love it," I cooed. "I love tasting it, wanna give me a sip, now before dinner?"

I could see the big man debating the offer, fighting an internal  struggle before shaking himself, literally jerking his head in an effort  to stay sane.         

     



 

"I'd love to baby girl, only too happy," he rumbled, eye-fucking my  lips, tracing that perfect pink pout. "But for now, you've got twenty  pounds to put on and fuck if I'm not gonna help you do it. So sit, baby,  sit and indulge."

And with that, he heaped a plate with three slices of pizza, three  steaming, aromatic slices of pie topped with melty cheese and all sorts  of yummy toppings. My mouth watered looking at the stack of goodies, I  couldn't wait to dig in, my taste buds were already standing up in  anticipation, my stomach growling even louder. But Tucker wasn't done  yet. Taking a slice in his hands, he folded it in half before holding it  out to me.

"Open little girl," he commanded.

And I obeyed immediately. Like a baby bird, I parted my lips and Tucker  fed me a bite of pizza, watching as I chewed then slowly swallowed.

"Tastes good, huh?" he noted with satisfaction. "We just need to get through this plate before we move onto other things."

I gasped.

"The entire plate? All three pieces? Tucker I can't, each slice is like a  quarter of the pie, that's way too much," I protested. "We have to  split it, or just save it for tomorrow, cold pizza is still good."

But Tucker growled, his brows lowering.

"No fucking way," he declared. "This is all for you and you're going to  eat every bite, every scrap if I have to feed you myself. Here," he  said, pushing my beer at me again, "take a sip, the liquid will help it  go down easier."

And choking a little, I sipped at the beer, letting the alcohol trickle  down my throat. Because what choice did I have? The big man was going to  get his way no matter what, another bite already ready in his hand.

"Open," he ground out again. And once more, like a doll, I parted my  lips to take another huge bite of pizza, this time the cheese  practically spurting into my mouth, the tomato sauce tangy and warm on  my tongue.

"Mmph!" I moaned in delight, chewing and swallowing slowly. "That was  soooo good," I admitted, my taste buds alight with new sensations.

And Tucker just smiled, satisfied.

"See?" he said smugly. "I know exactly what my girl likes, what she wants, what she needs."

And I heated up all over again. Oh god, his words sent a thrill all over  my body, my heart beating quickly, my lungs growing tight. I was "his  girl"? Tucker knew what I wanted, what I needed? Oh god, oh god. Because  what would it be like to give it up to this man, to fall entirely  within his thrall, let him take care of me? I wandered into dreamland  for a moment, envisioning my future. Oh yeah, days and nights with the  big man, him coming home sweaty and warm, sharing a shower before  dinner, him feeding me morsels, loving my curvy form with every sweep of  his eyes, every stroke of his hands before we tumbled into bed.

And I smiled at him then, in love already, in love with my future, with  everything his blue eyes promised. But there were still so many things  that I didn't understand about the man, things that made no sense, and  this was as good as a time to ask as any. So between mouthfuls, I tried  to get some answers.

"Tucker," I began after swallowing another heavenly bite, "how are you  able to live here?" I questioned, gesturing with my hand to the  luxurious space, the fancy furniture. "I mean this is such a pricey  neighborhood. Or do you get really good tips?" I stuttered, coloring  slightly. Oh god. I'm not great at thinking things through and hearing  my words out in the open made me realize how rude it sounded. Oh fuck,  I'd just violated an unspoken rule not to ask about someone's income,  even in a roundabout way.

But Tucker was all smooth sailing, unruffled, unperturbed.

"Yeah, these are nice digs aren't they?" he asked, glancing around at  place before picking up a second slice of pizza and pulling off a small  piece of singed crust with his fingertips, frowning. If I wasn't  mistaken, he was picking only the best parts for me, discarding any food  that looked less than pristine, like I really was his woman, his  treasure, deserving of only the very best. I grew warm all over again,  tingles running through my body, my cunt growing soft and moist, loose  in anticipation of him. And when he leaned over to feed me another  morsel, I immediately took it, my brown eyes wide, supplicating.         

     



 

But he hadn't forgotten my question.

"This place belongs to some friends of mine," he threw out casually.  "They're letting me housesit while they travel in Europe, probably  sunning themselves on a big white yacht in the Mediterranean," he said  wryly. "Hey, some folks caught the internet boom and made a bunch of  cash back in the day, it was good times all around."

And I chewed nodding. I remembered when the papers always seemed to be filled with some young billionaire with a baby face.

"I know," I said wistfully. "But it passed me by. I mean look at me," I  said gesturing to myself. "I work in City government and am barely paid  minimum wage, I only wish I were one of the lucky ones."

Tucker frowned a little before speaking.

"You tell me if you need any money, okay honey?" he said softly, his eyes fixed on mine. "You let me know right away."

And before I could open my mouth to protest, he went on.

"Besides, I dunno," he said slowly. "Having a shitpile of money doesn't  mean you have it all. I mean, these are friends of mine, so I know them  pretty well and they're not exactly the happiest dudes on earth. They  still have problems, just different ones," he shrugged. "Nothing that  you or I would understand or even care about, but problems just the  same."