Read The Billionaire's Curvy Submissive (BBW Billionaire Erotica Novel) for Free Online Page B

spare townhouse on the
upper west side, and by his wife’s orders!
    Claire blushed whenever she remembered
returning back to the children’s store she worked at after spending
the afternoon being forcefully penetrated by her boss’s virile,
irresistible husband. With her pussy still throbbing with the
effort of accommodating such an impressive cock, Claire had
shuffled into the store and come face-to-face with her lover’s
wife, Cheryl. Cheryl, whose middle-age was hidden under copious
amounts of cosmetics and Botox, was a rail thin and testy woman who
was quick to disparage and harass her employees for no apparent
reason other than to elevate her own sense of worth a hair’s
width.
    “What took you so long?” Cheryl had demanded,
“Where are those papers Parker wanted you to pick up?”
    Claire stared dumbly at her boss for a moment
before she remembered Parker’s lazy excuse for getting her up to
his fuck pad. She shrugged hopelessly, which only sent Cheryl’s
eyes rolling further back into her head. Claire hoped that they
would get stuck there, leaving her free to spread her legs for
Parker right in the middle of the awful, godforsaken children’s
store if she wanted to. Who knows? Those toy pellet guns might make
for some interesting foreplay.
    “I don’t know who’s more of an airhead, you
or him,” Cheryl growled, crossing her toothpick arms across her
chest.
    “Yeah, who knows,” Claire said, “Do you mind
if I leave now? It’s my day off, and I have dinner plans with—”
    “Good God,” Cheryl gasped, “Do you do
anything but eat, Claire? I told you that I’d let you have my extra
appetite suppressant drops if you wanted to do something about that
belly. How do you expect to attract a guy with that perpetual
winter coat you wear?”
    “Some guys like curves,” Claire said,
fighting to urge to add, “Just ask your husband.”
    Cheryl laughed, coldly, “Oh, honey. That’s
just what the magazines say when they’re trying to be less
discriminative about fatties. Men don’t want a plump, juicy woman
to jiggle around in bed. They want finely tuned and toned sex
machines.”
    “Oh... I get what you’re saying,” Claire said
sarcastically, “Men want cold, detached, emotionless fembots with
fake tits, asses, teeth, and hair.”
    “Basically.”
    “I’ll take your advice under consideration,”
Claire said, shaking her head in amazement as she stalked out of
the store. How could Cheryl be so blind to her husband’s desires?
They clearly were not on the same page about what constituted the
perfect woman. Parker had been plenty happy to sink his fingers
into Claire’s fleshy hips, her lusciously full ass. Actually, he’d
been so enthralled by her body that things had gotten more
aggressive than Claire had anticipated.
    Since Claire had lost her virginity at the
perfectly passable age of seventeen, she’d only had sex with guys
who were very much more like boys than men. They humped like
overeager puppies, and drooled about as much. There was no finesse,
no consideration to their lovemaking. Just pure hormones and sloppy
execution. Claire had never even had an orgasm by one of them!
Sure, she’d become an expert at pleasuring herself, but Parker had
been the first man she’d been with, and boy did he have his way
with her.
    “I’m just so new to all this,” Claire said to
Savannah, snapping back to the present moment of her bedroom, “I
mean... things got kind of rough.”
    “Like, how rough? Whips? Chains?”
    “No... just a, uh... A gag? And some...
choking?”
    “Holy shit, Claire! You’re a submissive!”
    “What? No, it’s not freakish like that!”
    “You say freakish like it’s a bad thing,”
Savannah said, excited, “Don’t you see? There this whole other side
to your sexuality that you get to explore now. It's gone unnoticed
because you insist on dating acne-ridden vermin with pencil dicks
and mommy issues.”
    “Ow,” Claire winced, “Too far!”
    “Sorry,”