Delivering the Virgin(19)

And after it was all over, I collapsed on her plush form, our bodies  sweaty, glued together with a sticky film of various fluids.

"Fuck little girl," I ground out. "You're gonna kill me with this sex shit."

And the brunette just tittered, her breasts jiggling as they cushioned my chest.

"I know," she said sweetly. "And Tucker, I want more, again please."

And with that, my dick came again, more semen pumping into her butt,  twitching and jerking in her anal chamber. Because what I'd suspected  all along was true. This little whore, my personal fuckdoll, was perfect  for me in every way.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN


Laurie




I yawned, lazily, still in the tub. Tucker would be back soon and it was  gonna be good times tonight, the way it is every night. Because I've  moved in with him in the Tribeca loft, even though it doesn't really  belong to him.

"But when will your friends be back?" I asked, puzzled. "I mean,  wouldn't it be easier for you to move in with me, so that they don't  walk in on us  …  on us  … " I murmured, a little shy.

But Tucker finished my sentence.

"Walk in on us having sex?" he said with an eyebrow lifted. "Baby  there's nothing more that I'd like. Fucking you in public, other dudes  watching those tits bounce up and down as my dick goes in, jealous as  fuck? That's my dream, baby girl, that's my dream."

And I just laughed because the big man could be so impossible. Even when  I tried to get serious again, he brushed off my question.         

     



 

"Don't worry, they're sailing the Mediterranean for god knows how long,"  he said nonchalantly. "I wouldn't worry about them coming back and  giving us the boot."

"But surely they'll be back sometime," I said, puzzled. "I mean, this apartment is so gorgeous, who wouldn't want to live here?"

But Tucker shrugged.

"I know right? But it's their life not ours. And you, baby girl, are moving in stat."

And so my stuff was packed up and brought to the loft by movers the next  day. Everything happened so quickly, I guess it was good that I'd never  unpacked most of my things.

"Just put her things in the master bedroom," Tucker directed  authoritatively, pointing to a box of my personal items. "Everything  into the master."

And I just shook my head, sighing. Really? Seems like we were playing  house right away, a man and wife snug in their home, taking care of each  other, sharing each other's bodies, each other's lives. But the alpha  male was authoritative, so sure of himself, that I found myself swept  along with the tide, more breathless than anything, without time to  reflect.

But I was adamant about at least one thing. I wasn't giving up my place on the Lower East side no matter what Tucker said.

"Break your lease," he growled when he found out. "Why pay rent when you're living here now?"

I just sighed gustily.

"First," I said, "We have no idea when your friends are gonna be back so we'll need a place to stay when they do."

"Yeah but we could use a hotel," he interrupted. "That's what hotels are for."

I shook my head. The big man seemed to have a completely different  relationship with money than me, with the way he'd signed off on the  thousand dollar moving bill, how nonchalant he was about putting up good  money every night to rest our heads.

"Tucker, hotels are expensive and besides we couldn't fit all this into a  hotel room," I said wryly, gesturing to the boxes. "We don't have that  much, but still, this isn't gonna fit in one room."

But the big man shrugged, unconcerned.

"We'll find a way," he said carelessly, "We'll figure it out, it's just  logistics," he winked. I shook my head, sighing. Of course, as part of  the concierge industry, Tucker took all this in a stride, getting people  and things to different places was his specialty after all. But the big  man wasn't done yet. He frowned at me for a moment, studying my outfit.  I was dressed in a plain black skirt and white blouse for work, nothing  fancy, my shoes a little scuffed but still serviceable.

"Baby girl, you don't have many clothes, your things probably would fit  in a hotel closet," he said wryly. "In fact, I always see you wearing  the same stuff and that's no way for my best girl to live. Here," he  reached a big hand for his wallet. "Go shopping and buy yourself some  nice outfits, treat yourself," he said with a smile.

And I was touched to the bottom of my soul, but I couldn't take money  from a delivery man, someone who probably needed every cent he had. The  offer of carte blanche was kind, but far too generous.

"I appreciate the gesture, I really do. But it's okay," I said gently.  "City government's not a fancy place, my clothes are fine for my job."

But Tucker shook his head again, a stubborn frown appearing on that handsome face.

"No honey," he growled low in his throat. "I see you wearing drab office  clothes, and that's not how my best girl lives. Buy yourself something  new," he said persuasively. "A couple new things, heck, a whole new  wardrobe if you want. Here," he said again, pressing the plastic into my  hand. "Take it," he growled roughly.

And my fingers closed because it was easier not to fight. Besides, I  didn't have to use it, the credit card could stay in my purse just to  appease my lover. But as I curled my fist, I realized this item wasn't  your average rewards card. It wasn't heavy for one, made of metal  instead of plastic, and the surface was a matte metallic rose, glinting  slightly in the light.         

     



 

"What is this?" I asked curiously. I'd never seen something like this  before, and I squinted a little, trying to read the print. The words  read "JP Morgan" in script on the upper right corner, but everything  else looked normal, just a Visa logo and a chip embedded on the left  side.

"Yeah, pretty awesome, right?" said the big man, an eyebrow raised. "I  get so much grief for the pink color, the guys are always saying that no  real man would use it," he said, rolling his eyes.

I squinted at the card again. It was incredibly beautiful and  classy-looking, a deep grey overlaid with blush and I ran my fingers  over the smooth, cold surface. Where did something like this come from?  How did Tucker get it?

But the big man just chuckled, reading my mind.

"Baby, I get so many miles from that account, it's like they're paying  me to use it," he said with a smirk. "Take it," he added again  persuasively. "Even if you don't wanna buy more work clothes, at least  buy some new lingerie for yourself babe. We've ruined so many of your  panties, you must be down to nothing now."

And I blushed, sliding his card in my purse. It was true, our sex play  was often so adventurous, so naughty, that my panties got trashed all  the time, not to mention that they were soaked through so often that I  had to change in the women's restroom at work so the smell wouldn't  alert my co-workers to my constantly wet cunt.

"Okay," I murmured, nodding. "Will do," I agreed with a shy nod.

And that was that. Tucker definitely had a way with words, a way of  persuading me to do anything and everything he wanted, in bed and out.

But there was still the issue about my old apartment. I was determined  to keep my place on the LES in case things didn't work out, in case I  needed a hidey hole to lick my wounds, a retreat when the going got  tough.

So taking a deep breath, I confronted the issue head on. And I used all  my weapons. I waited until we were in bed, Tucker at his most  vulnerable, his most pliable, to make my case.

"I'm not giving up my lease," I said slowly, taking a deep breath. I  wanted to be transparent and open in this relationship, not hide things  from the get-go. "I know my stuff's here now, but I'm keeping my old  place just in case," I said slowly.

The big man lifted an eyebrow at me.

"Why?" he said smoothly.

"Well, you know," I answered helplessly. "What if we don't get along? I  mean, we practically just met, who knows if we're really compatible?"

There was truth to those words but the big man wasn't hearing it.

"You think we're incompatible?" he growled, nodding downwards. Because  we'd just had a hot session and his dick was still in my ass, still deep  up my rectal canal, tickling me, making me stretch with ecstasy.

I clenched my anal muscles, hoping to punish him but that only made him groan with pleasure.

"No seriously," I said, mock threatening. "We only just met and I can't  take the chance. I mean, I'm a divorcee, I'm sensitive okay? If you'd  walked the gauntlet like I did, you'd also want some insurance."

And that made Tucker stop for a moment, looking deep in my eyes as he paused.

"You think I'm like your ex?" he rumbled casually, too casual.

"No of course not!" I sighed. Geez, he could be so clueless sometimes.  "I wouldn't be with you, would never have moved my stuff in if you were  like Gary," I said softly. "But once burned, twice shy, I always buy  insurance now."