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Bitches were in love with my giant dick. I’m not sure where I got it from, because I’ve been to saunas with my old man a few times, and he doesn’t have shit on me. Rumor had it that my crack whore mother’s father had a giant dick, one that reached his knees. Did he know how to use it though? That’s the question.
I love putting my giant shaft to work. From the instant I lost my virginity, I had a divine mandate to enrich female lives. Bitches go cross-eyed the second they lay eyes on my member, and now that I’m the starting running back on the Sinners this year, that effect only intensifies.
I probably should whine and moan about women taking "advantage" of me when I was a young stud in high school, but the truth is that I loved it. The power. The dominance. Making them come. I was forbidden fruit in every way and the other students in my class didn’t stand a chance. A man amongst boys.
That’s why my desire for Olivia was so strange to me.
Olivia’s mother whoever she is would be my usual type. I like females with experience, ones who know how to use my mammoth shaft. Virgins are cute and shit, but I like a bitch with big titties, a thick juicy ass, who has a thing for pure alpha men. Maybe if she’ll even let me buy her Gucci and Louis, ten times better.
I broke up marriages when I was seventeen. I’d dick some country club bitch down in her marital bed so good that she could never go back to her husband’s saggy ass sixty-year-old dick. That was before this real ghetto banker caught me fucking his wife in her daughter’s room and he pulled a gun on me. Threatened to blow my head off if I didn’t get out of his house.
I had to go undercover after that shit. I shaved my head, got a fuckton of ink, and devoted my every waking minute to football. That’s why I haven’t been as much of a man whore as I was in high school.
Football consumes my life. As Coach says, I’m too big and powerful to get into dangerous situations with women. My presence is needed on the field. When the gods stitched me together in my mother’s womb, they did it with the intention of me playing professional football. Coach tells me that I’ll never have to worry about females again once I make the national league.
Coach doesn’t know that I never have to worry about females, pro team or not. My dick doesn’t let me worry.
Even if I had a smaller dick, my sheer alpha masculine swagger would do the talking for me. I walk into a room and it’s every bitch’s eye on me. I sense it in their yearning expression:they’re wondering how big it is.
Here’s the good news, bitch: it’s big. Very big. And if you let me give you a massage afterwards, I’m putty in your hands.
That’s one thing that separates me from Colt and Brock. I’m a softie at times, even though I’m mainly a badass. I hate having my bitches cook, clean, or do any of that shit for me. I get off when I take care of them after I give them the dicking down of a lifetime. I’m not about all that sensitive shit, but when the time calls for it, I’ll even treat a bitch to a date at the mall.
Olivia’s eyes widen with tears. The sight turns me on to no end.
"Quit being a drama queen, bitch."
She hits my massive thighs with her palms, her lips stretching out. She wants to convince me she wants to stop. Pull my dick out. Give her a chance to breathe.
Ha.
I know women better than Olivia knows herself. One look at a monster stud like me sends them all a bit crazy. They claim they don't want me, but they do. That’s why they come so fucking hard when I slide a finger up their cunt. Half the time, I don't even have to stroke their clit. They’re wet for me because I’m the boss. The top G. The alpha who dominates the shit out of all the weak ass men who these bitches don't actually want.
What woman really wants to fuck an accountant? None.
I plunge my dick deeper into Olivia’s throat, questions swirling through my mind. Her gagged screams echo throughout the hallway, which only makes me harder.
What is it about her that does it for me?
Why is she so hot when she’s an inexperienced virgin?
Why am I about to bust down her throat?
I smirk. "Porn stars don’t give head this good."
Olivia isn’t even trying. Her eyes roll back as she struggles to breathe through her nose. I’m in control, dominating her in every way, shape, and form. She couldn’t swirl her tongue around my crown like some oversexed bitch even if she wanted to. She doesn’t have the skill set.
Damn. Her words from the frat party last weekend flow through my mind. Is she really a virgin? We all assumed she was lying, but what if she wasn’t?
She doesn’t move. She lets me fuck her throat, pillaging her innocence like a Spartan stealing his enemy’s bitch. My throat to fuck. My titties.
Olivia struggles in the hallway, fighting against Brock’s arms. I look up at what he’s doing and stifle a chuckle. His aching shaft is protruding from his khakis. It reminds me of a Chinese finger trap: the harder it fights to free itself, the tighter it’s wedged in there.
Brock’s fingers grip her scalp. He holds her in place, using every bit of his power to let her know that we’re in control. Even when she can’t see what’s happening, he’s dominating her.
Olivia wails when Brock tugs her hair, but I silence her by ramming my dick further down her throat. My tip smashes into her tonsils, triggering her gag reflex, but by now she’s learned not to let it own her. She’ll take every inch of my monster cock. Shewill. That’s a promise.
"No noise." I don't mince words. "If anyone interrupts us, you’re dead."
