Let's Pretend We're Married

Author's Note: This story is completely fictional and did not happen. All names of characters are fictional and were made up. Please do not copy and plagiarize my work.

******************

Miami Beach, Florida

Glimmering dots sparked as they moved across the reflection cast across a mirror. A set of green eyes gazed back, glancing down at every detail of her silky black dress. The dots belonged to a set of diamond earrings that were visible beyond her locks of black hair. It had taken an hour to get ready like this in a new designer dress that fit all of her measurements and the right jewelry to stand out. Abigail Ratchford stood tall in a matching pair of black high-heeled pumps. She placed her hands on her hips as she gazed back at her reaction and curled her luscious lips into a grin. The dress featured shoulder straps that covered her tanned skin and a V cut to highlight her busty Double D breasts. This outfit was ideal for a photoshoot on her social media profiles, but not tonight. Abigail was already thinking about making use of it later.

Social media had been a useful tool for Abigail through the years. Now that she was in her thirties, she could say that a great deal of her fame had come from the internet. Once an aspiring glamour model, she had crossed boundaries as a social influencer and entrepreneur. She was dubbed the "Queen of Instagram" by some and the "Queen of Curves" by others, and she was proud of her body. She was heavily influenced by other glamour models, but at this point in her life, Abigail felt she had become an icon herself. Tonight was to be a special occasion, as she was dressed to impress. Her fans online would likely be more appreciative of the heavy cleavage her dress revealed. There would be at least one person tonight who appreciated the sight. In another room in her hotel suite was her friend Alejandro Diego Gutiérrez, or Alex, as he preferred to be called.

A well-groomed black beard and mustache covered his face, matching his short hair. His average body was hidden underneath an outfit consisting of a black suit without a tie. The jacket was unbuttoned, revealing the buttoned-up white shirt he had tucked into his slacks. Alex met Abigail over five years ago at a party similar to the one they were about to attend. Like her, he considered himself to be an entrepreneur but had yet to make his lucky break. He dropped out of college after a night of gambling won him over forty-two thousand dollars. It was the most money he had ever seen in his life. More than enough to pay off his student loans and consider switching to a different career. Whatever that career originally had been was now lost in time. Alex had squandered a good deal of the money, but not before investing it in multiple failed business ventures.

To Abigail, she saw those failures as part of 'get rich quick' schemes. Alex had a certain set of skills as a gambler that gave her the impression he was good with math. She could not judge him since she herself had hustled before with business-related stuff. They hooked up years ago at a party where they both shared drinks before a wild night in a hotel room. Abigail had fond memories of that night, but nothing had come of it in terms of a relationship. Alex was just one of the few men she kept in contact with when she traveled to Miami. He was good in the bedroom, so he was worthy of a hookup while she was single and had the chance to mess around. Alex never left Miami. He was a pure, homegrown man of the city, with ancestry from a Colombian family that had immigrated to the US over forty years ago. Abigail had never asked him about his past, but sometimes she was curious about his family.

The party was at a hotel nearby in Miami Beach. Abigail checked into one of the many Art Deco-themed hotels in South Beach. It was overpriced, but with luxury suites, she felt more comfortable dropping a few grand in Florida. She called Alex shortly after arriving in town to see what he was up to. His first question was if she was single again. Abigail knew he would be eager for a quick hookup, but she had doubts that it would lead to anything. So many times she had seen him, and they had shared dates and slept together, but it never went further than that. She was not ready to jump into another long-term relationship, so having a pitstop with Alex was something she was fine with. Attending the party was his idea. Abigail was amused that something else was distracting him from fucking her. Any other time, Alex could not wait to share a bottle of wine and start getting dirty with her.

Word of this party had spread privately from the V.I.P. rooms of nightclubs and other areas of the city, where only those who knew the right person would catch wind of it. Alex had heard it in passing from the Disco Fever club that the party was being arranged by Matthew McCarthy. The name carried weight for Alex since McCarthy was a big-time hustler across town. He was known for owning a yacht that he usually had his parties on. The man knew how to arrange high-stakes card games, or so Alex had heard. If it was the type of game where one had to pay in cash a few grand to even sit at the table, he wanted in. With no current debt, Alex considered the risks of finding himself in a hole. The thrill that came with gambling was the wonderful feeling of the win. There were few things in life that felt greater when all the chips were stacked on your side of the table.

Few things were comparable to that. His on-and-off again relationship with a famous model was among those things. Years ago, when Kate Upton was seemingly everywhere, he fantasized about bedding a glamour model. Revealing this secret to Abigail gave her something to tease him about. She may not have been at Kate's level of fame, but she made sure to remind him how long their fuck sessions went on. If Abigail had a type, Alex certainly checked off most boxes on the list for what she preferred in a man. He had a dirty mind like her and the stamina to go all night long. It beat the other men in her life who just wanted a quick thrill. Alex often told her, in the heat of the moment, how fuckable her body was. She made sure his cock was placed everywhere it could be to prove her curvaceous form was built to fulfill his desires. He was the right type of man for her in the bedroom, if only their relationships lasted longer than a few weeks.

Without her, he would not have a ticket to this party. McCarthy was another person who called himself an entrepreneur. Abigail had heard of him in passing since he had previously slid into her messages on a social media account and invited her to a yacht party. He was the type of man who offered money to influencers and models to attend his private events. His parties were extravagant, as Abigail could recall. He paid her a couple thousand dollars to show up and look pretty on his yacht three years ago. The one thing she remembered was the amount of cocaine at his party. McCarthy stood over a table as the coke was served in trays, as if delivering a speech. Once people started to treat themselves to the party favors, one man whistled and yelled out a line from the film Scarface. 'You got good stuff here! Class-A shit!'. This was followed by laughter, as Abigail could clearly remember it regardless of whether it happened three years ago or yesterday.

She had that experience with McCarthy to know more about him than Alex did. To her, he was just another rich guy in Miami who had money to spend and was down for hard partying. Alex seemed to think the man could open doors for him and lead to some big break. Yet another get rich quick scheme in the form of gambling, she quietly thought to herself. She did not have the heart to tell Alex that he was setting himself up for disappointment. In all the years she knew him, she did not believe he was the type of man to get involved with someone like McCarthy. Abigail still did not want to spoil his hopes. Maybe it would work out for Alex, and he could get an entry into a high-stakes poker game. At the bare minimum, she wanted to enjoy this date with him. Rarely did she get to attend a party like this with someone else. She was usually there as eye candy for men to take their chances at hooking up.

"Alex! I hope you're ready to go, I don't wanna be late."

Abigail called out in her high-pitched voice while still looking in the mirror. At least this dress would make a fine outfit for her social media pictures. She was not bringing her purse or cellphone tonight. Alex would have his phone and wallet if they were needed. When he finally stomped into the room, she watched his reflection move across the mirror's surface. The man stood in disbelief when he saw the dress hugging her curves.

"Wow, you look fantastic tonight."

Slowly turning around, she offered him a smile. His eyes glanced down from her face to her heavy cleavage for a moment.

"Don't I always?"

"Yeah, always with class."

She curled her lips into a grin before stepping away from the mirror. Abigail pressed her left hand against his chest as her emerald eyes gazed up at his face.

"Are you sure you really wanna go to this party? I mean... you could take this dress right off me and let that start a much more fun night."

Alex let out a sigh. He tried not to blush, but that proved to be too difficult for him.

"I don't see why I can't take it off later tonight after we have some drinks."

Those big green eyes were still gazing back at his face. Abigail did not have to say it. Alex could tell that she did not really want to go to this party. If not for her, he would not have a chance whatsoever of meeting this McCarthy figure.

"I know you don't wanna go. You can be honest with me, Abi."

Shaking her head at him, she sighed.

"No, I really don't. I'd rather order some wine and get the night started. Why do we need to rub shoulders with a bunch of strangers?"

Abigail stepped away from him. Alex's eyes followed her, glancing across his right shoulder as her heels stomped loudly across the floor.

"Look, I get it. You'd rather be somewhere else. It's like I keep telling you, if I can meet this guy and he sets me up, I'll be able to get another big break. All I need is another card game, and I know I can win it."

It would be easy for her to make a snarky response, shooting down his idea, but Abigail could not do that to him. Even if he did get his precious card game, what were the chances of him actually winning? This was going to be a long night, she reminded herself. At least she had hopes of getting back to the hotel and having some real fun. She turned to look back at him, making eye contact before she nodded.

"I'm only doing this for you Alex, because you've been a good friend. It's my way of showing you that I care."

She offered her hand to him.

"Come on, let's go. We can call a taxi once we're out of the hotel."

******************

3 HOURS LATER

Laughter was heard from the downstairs of the large penthouse suite as the party continued into the midnight hours. People laughed while others were dancing to the music heard in the living room. At least thirty people showed up for McCarthy's planned event. The suite was dark, with postmodernist interior design. Grey walls and black interiors gave the place a strange welcome. The staircase had no rail; only metallic steps led up to the private bedrooms. Abigail figured that McCarthy probably did not call this place his home since it did not have any hanging photographs or other belongings one would keep around. Most of the party was spent in the living room and kitchen, where a bartender served drinks. Several people recognized her upon entrance when his bodyguards opened the doors for her and Alex. All of them were complete strangers to Abigail, but they wanted to take selfie photos with her.

This was something she loved, but tonight was not ideal for snapping photos. The people were strangers, and she was well aware of how quickly rumors spread online if she appeared in an Instagram story at a party like this. So far, no drugs were out in the open, but that did not mean they were not already there. She knew McCarthy better than Alex to know he most likely had a few kilos of blow hidden somewhere. Abigail had no desire to find out what party favors he was keeping around. A blonde-haired girl introduced herself as a 'huge fan' to start a conversation with Abigail. Alex had vanished from her within an hour of arriving at the party when he saw the man he had come to see. Matthew McCarthy was tall, with slicked-back blonde hair and a cleanly shaved face. Abigail did not go with Alex, leaving the man to his own business as she shared a drink with a fan.

Another woman approached her, claiming to be an Instagram model. It was funny to Abigail that she was always recognized at events like this. She may not have been a massive celebrity in Hollywood, but nights like this reminded her that she made it. Back home in L.A., she had a podcast that was starting to become a success after launching during the summer. She told some people about the podcast tonight, who approached her and wanted to talk. There was no one attending this party who would make a decent guest for an interview. By the time Alex returned to the living room, she could tell something was wrong. The expression on his face told her enough. He looked dejected and as if he did not want to waste another minute at this party. Abigail felt bad seeing him like that. As Alex stepped closer to her, she offered a smile and threw her left arm around her shoulder.

"Are you alright, hun?"

Alex let out a sigh as he shook his head.

"That guy's a fucking asshole!"

Abigail's eyes widened before she glanced around the room, hoping no one heard his outburst. She had to swallow her breath to prevent herself from bursting into laughter at his words. Alex continued on.

"He says he doesn't know me, so he wants twenty grand in cash before I can sit down at the table. Twenty grand! Who the fuck does he think I am? Like I just walk around with stacks of hundred-dollar bills stuffed in my pockets."

As Alex spoke, a man walked by, offering a smile to Abigail. He looked around the same age as Alex, except with a clean shaved face and short brown hair. He wore a blue tennis shirt tucked into a pair of khaki shorts with a visible brown leather belt.

"Wow, you look just like Abigail Ratchford."

"That's because it's me!"

She giggled as the man blushed and offered his hand to her.

"Wow! I never thought I'd get a chance to meet you! I'm James Spence, and I'm an entrepreneur. You should look me up on Instagram sometime. We can talk business cause I need a model to help promote my new NFTs. I'd love to arrange something in the future."

Listening to this man made Alex cringe. He gave him a dirty look before yelling over him.

"You're an entrepreneur? So am I! Get the fuck out of my face!"

James immediately stepped back, shocked and seemingly intimidated by Alex's rude yelling. He was angry and had to take it out on someone. Abigail moved her hand from his shoulder and looked at him in shock. He would owe her an apology later, but not at this moment in time. She grabbed Alex's hand, pulling him close to her.

"Come on, let's get outta here. This party sucks anyway."

Alex was not done rubbing it in the other man's face. He gave him a smug grin. The type of facial expression to tell him that he was the lucky one who knew a famous model while James didn't. Abigail sighed as her heels clicked and clacked loudly over the blaring music. They had stayed long enough to get people talking, but Abigail was not concerned about any rumors. She would most likely be leaving Miami by the end of the week. None of her friends were at the party anyway. Once she and Alex had walked out of the front door, she let out a sigh of relief. The sound of the music was nothing but bass beats out in the hotel hall. Alex stood there for a moment, thinking to himself.

"Hey Abi, he said something about NFTs. What's that?"

Oh my god, she thought to herself. That was a topic Abigail had no interest in explaining right now. The last thing she wanted to do was put another get rich quick scheme in Alex's head over something he would most likely lose more money over. She rolled her eyes before replying.

"Nothing! Just another waste of money! Come on, Alex! Let's go back to my hotel and chill!"

******************

1 DAY LATER

Sunlight filled all the rooms of the suite, illuminating the cream-colored walls. They were once white, but the sun had faded them to the yellowish color they now had. Checkered tiles covered the bathroom floor, while beige carpeting was in every other room. This hotel had charm with the interior design, but Abigail had been in better, more luxurious suites in Miami. After leaving the party last night, she did not push Alex to stay up all night. It was not the best time to get wild since he seemed to have drank quite a bit last night. Once they got back to the hotel, she let him climb in bed and fall asleep next to her. If they were going to have erotic fun, she wanted him to be well rested. They both got up late in the afternoon. Abigail had matters to tend to over the phone while Alex took a shower.

The first thing she always did was check her Instagram messages. After that, she had to check down the list of social media accounts. Her agent back in California would write her emails if something came up. Managing social media and her modeling had been a hard task, but she managed to do it mostly by herself. Alex had been staying with her at the hotel for the past few days. He lived across the bridge on the other side of town, so it was easier for him to stay with Abigail instead of making that long drive back and forth from Downtown Miami to South Beach. He brought some clothes with him. A pair of leisure shorts and colored shirts to prevent himself from sweating in a dark suit every day he was up here. So far, it had been two nights spent in Abigail's bed, and they had yet to get it on.

She knew it would change soon. Her lustful appetite could not be contained for much longer, as she had no desire to go another day without fucking him. That was the one thing Alex was good at besides spending money. He had the strength and stamina to get down and dirty for hours on end. In the right mood, he was a dominant man who knew how to take control. Abigail was not going to be denied a hard fuck session today. A tingling sensation was already felt between her legs. Last night had been a disappointment for him, so hopefully the man would be in the mood to turn his frustrations into joy by using her body for pleasure. She could have taken the time to model in her fancy black dress, but Abigail did not care about that. A better outfit had been packed for this trip and was waiting to be put on her buxom body. After breakfast had been delivered by room service and Alex wandered off, Abigail saw that as an opportunity to change from her casual clothes into something that would set the mood for the day.

Leaving the bedroom, she wandered to the kitchen. An open pathway led from the living room into the kitchen, where she was sure Alex would find her. She was hoping the sight of her thick booty would catch him by surprise. As Abigail stood there, her large black high heel pumps elevated her height. Sheer black stockings covered her muscular legs, rising up to her thighs. A black thong covered her cunt, rising up with a garter belt attached to the stockings. Her perfect plump ass sucked up the end of the thong, making it barely visible. To complete the outfit, a lacy black bra covered her large, firm breasts. Her fingertips slipped beyond the garter belt to play with the silky black fabric. Silence filled the room to a point where Abigail could hear her own breathing.