The Making of a Kingpin Ch. 04

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Hung young jock thug targets rich family.
22.5k words
4.52
88k
70

Part 4 of the 8 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 05/13/2014
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Please note this piece is fantasy not reality and should not be seen to condone any of the behaviour described. All characters are aged 18 or over. Feedback welcomed, please let me know if you have ideas for future chapters.

*****

I awoke blearily and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the sunshine now streaming into my room. As my eyes started to focus I saw from the clock on my bedside cabinet that it was already mid morning.

Moaning slightly I sluggishly lifted myself out of bed, which creaked slightly as I did so. Images from the night before raced through my mind. It had been yet another one of those dull, boring house parties that my girlfriends seemed to so enjoy.

Thankfully my best friend Tamara had brought along a bottle of vodka so we had been able to get hammered together, which sort of made the evening bearable, even if I was paying for it now.

I couldn't even remember who had been the host of this one. The guys at Barts were so lame. Even the so-called jocks who played on the lacrosse and water polo teams were pathetic. I mean sure most of them were pretty hot, with their muscled bodies and handsome all-American faces.

But they were just so boring. So generic. So vanilla. I needed a bit of spice, a bit of zest but I felt like I was suffocating in mediocrity. I needed a real man, but these were just boys. Boys that I could wrap round my little finger as easily as taking candy from a baby.

I laughed cruelly as I remembered their efforts last night to impress me, seeing their desperate puppy dog faces desperate to get some action. Men were so weak. All I needed to do was bat my long, flowing eyelashes, shake my wavy brown hair and click my fingers and they would do whatever I wanted them to.

The only fun I was able to have last night had been winding up these pathetic saps, luring them in with my many physical charms and then spurning their advances, swatting them away like irritant flies.

I had a reputation across the school for being an ice queen and it had been well-earned. I never did any chasing, I just let guys chase me. And boy did they chase. Well I thought, looking down at my naked body as I lay on my bed, why wouldn't they?

I had a knock-out figure and everyone knew it. My firm breasts were large and plump, my hips were narrow and small but most impressive were my long legs which just seemed to go on and on and on. But I knew that my face put even my body into the shade. Blessed with high cheekbones, a petite nose and plump lips I knew I had the pouting face which would allow me to make lots of money as a model once I had left this pathetic school.

I loved watching the look in a guy's eyes as they gawped at me, seeing their desperate lust, watching them stuttering and losing all their self-confidence. It made me feel so powerful, so in control. I could make them do anything I wanted, like a puppet master controlling all the strings.

Of course it helped that everyone knew that I was the richest girl in school. I mean everyone was rich at Barts, but our family was the richest of the lot. God bless my dad, what he lacked in looks he more than made up for in business flair. And that mattered, so much. While Barts was a placid place on the surface in reality it was riven with competitive bitchiness and one-upmanship, among the parents as much as the students.

So I loved seeing jaws drop when I hosted parties as people realised that what they thought was big was actually tiny compared to our mansion. But that was nothing compared to the day a few months ago when I drove into the parking lot in my brand-spanking new Ferrari F430. It had taken weeks to nurdle the money out of my dad but he couldn't resist the charms of his little princess forever.

The looks on everyone's face as my long legs stepped out of the gleaming car were a sight to behold. So everyone knew that I was the most powerful girl in the school, with guys fawning over me and girls desperate to befriend me.

Part of me loved it all. Loved making other people do what I wanted. Loved being treated with adulation. Loved getting my own way all the time. But another part of me hated it. Hated the tedium of it all. Hated the lack of challenge. Hated the boring tranquillity.

I even had the token boyfriend, Brandon. We'd been going out for over a year now after I finally agreed to his unceasing passes at me. He was the closest to my type at my disposal with a strong, muscular, powerful build.

Of course, he was the captain of our school football team and I loved to watch him play. He was so powerful and aggressive on the field. Unfortunately, this seemed to disappear when he was off the pitch.

He had a smooth, handsome face and would not have looked out of place in an Abercrombie & Fitch advert. But he was so eager for me, so desperate to please me that just like all the other suckers in my life I could get him to do what I wanted, when I wanted.

Another disappointment was his performance in the bedroom. Given his impressive physique, height and athleticism I was expecting to be impressed but was let down badly when I finally let him advance from making out and allowed him to sleep with me.

He seemed to have no idea what he was doing, forcing me to take the lead. And the equipment he was working with was also inadequate in satisfying my growing sexual needs. What made it even worse was that his bulky frame only made his cock look even smaller by comparison.

When erect his dick could only measure about four, thin inches so that when he jumped on top of me and started pumping away I could barely feel a thing. Luckily he only usually lasted a few minutes and I had learnt how to act out an orgasm so that he felt like he was a sexual champion.

I yearned to be satisfied, truly satisfied. I heard my girlfriends giggle as they described what it was like to be fucked by a guy who was packing more than Brandon could offer and was sorely tempted to get out there and enjoy some real action.

The only thing holding me back was my desire to maintain my status amongst the elite social circle I was part of. That meant remaining cold and aloof, that meant maintaining the respect of my peers, that meant keeping the hottest, most desired guy in the school on a short leash. More than anything it meant not being a slut.

That was the deal. Accept a lack of sexual fulfilment in exchange for social power. From the outside it must have looked like I had it all, but really it felt like I was trapped inside a prison. A beautiful, attractive, privileged prison, but a prison nonetheless.

I couldn't wait for the end of this school year to end so that I could get out of this awful, sterile environment. And as I considered the remaining months which would need to be endured I sighed in frustration.

I only had myself to blame. At 19 I should be out of school but stupidly I had begged my dad a few years ago to let me study for a year at a top European school. I thought it would be just the ticket to escape but it turned out to be a carbon copy of Barts just colder and bleaker without my home comforts. So all I had achieved was to extend my time in self-imposed purgatory.

I stood up and reached down under my bed and fished out a box which rattled as I lifted it up. As I opened it my face lit up as I looked down at the toys which had helped keep me sane over the last few months as my sexual appetite grew exponentially.

This was the only way I was going to get any release and I looked hungrily down at the large, black dildo which took pride of place on top of my assortment of toys. I reached out and grabbed hold of the smooth plastic shaft.

For some reason using a black dildo really did it for me. Perhaps it was because it was so taboo. The idea of dating a black guy in our community would be about as welcome as a bucket of sick. And so every time I used it to get myself some release it felt so liberating, a momentary escape from my dreary, plain existence.

Just as I began to lift the heavy tool I heard movement at the door. Moving with incredible speed I had closed the box and placed it under my bed just as I saw the family maid appear in the doorway.

"Juanita!" I shouted angrily, "How many times have I told you to knock?"

"I'm sorry Miss Grace," she said quietly, her head bowed to the floor. "But, your mother asked me to wake you to have your breakfast with her."

I groaned internally. This was one of my mother's annoying habits, she had a desire to feel like we still had a real, emotional connection when in reality we had long had a distant, frosty relationship. Still I didn't want her to get angry, it wasn't worth the aggravation.

"OK, tell her I'll be down in a minute."

The maid shuffled away and I hastened to get dressed. As it was such a lovely day and I had no plans I decided it was a day to lounge by the pool and soak up some sun.

I wandered over leisurely towards my huge triple wardrobe which was bursting at the seams with a wide variety of outfits. I quickly found the bikinis and rifled through them to find the right one.

Even just the touch of my hand against my huge black sex toy had sent a shock of sexual energy through me and so I impulsively picked out my sexiest two-piece bikini.

They were plain black and had a lacy feel, more like lingerie than swimwear. It provided a nice contrast with my relatively pale, white skin. The bikini top was strapless and barely reached high enough to cover my now hardened nipples while the thong bottom was so small that it left my toned ass completely exposed. Thankfully I had just shaven my lady garden or that too would have been on show.

I strutted down the stairs. I knew that I looked smoking hot and it made me feel good to be flaunting it even if I couldn't do it in front of other people at least I could do it in my own home.

As I entered the kitchen and approached the table my mother looked up at me and immediately pulled a face. "What are you doing Grace? That outfit is completely inappropriate. Go and put something else on right now!"

Giving her one of my trademark withering stares I jibed, "Just because you could no longer fit into this outfit, doesn't mean I shouldn't be able to wear it. Anyway, I'm just going to be lounging around by the pool today so why do you care?"

My mother's cheeks had reddened at my insult and she looked sheepish, evidently wanting to get along. "Well ok, as long as you're only wearing it around the house I suppose it wouldn't do any harm."

I smirked in triumph as I sat down and Juanita hurried to serve me.

As we talked I appraised my mother and realised my taunting, not for the first time in my life, had been a little bit harsh. Kaitlin was not the lithe, trim teenager who had fallen in love with my father but she was not unattractive.

In fact she had aged pretty well and in many respects was an older version of me. Our faces and figures were very similar and we both shared flowing brown locks of hair, but as she had aged Kaitlin had started to sag a bit here and there, her tone starting to fade and she had filled out a little, becoming more curvaceous.

She had also changed in other, less natural ways. As the wife of the richest man in town she had been able to afford a few cosmetic enhancements. The most obvious was her boob job, which had enlarged her already sizeable rack to a pair of double Es and suited her status as a trophy wife. Kaitlin had also indulged in the odd nip and a tuck here and there to keep her looking more youthful than her advancing years.

Even in her current demure outfit she oozed sex appeal and I could tell why my dad still seemed to love her as much as the day they had met. Her busom pushed out against the plain cardigan she was wearing, causing the buttons on it to strain, while her short skirt showed off her strong legs.

Finally we had both finished eating and I could make my escape. "I'm just heading out to the pool then mom, want to make the best of this weather!"

"OK love," she replied. "I'm going to be out the rest of the day. I'm meeting up with Chloe and the rest of the girls." What she meant was that she was going to go and drink a bottle of wine with a few of the other boring trophy wives, only good at spending their husband's money.

"OK," I replied indifferently.

"Juanita," I called, "help me put this sun lotion on".

When I got to the pool I laid myself down on a lounger and started to soak up some rays. It was so quiet and peaceful and I was so glad to be able to get some alone time without the incessant babble of tedium which seemed to surround me wherever I went.

It wasn't long before I heard some male voices, laughing and joking, and then a splash as bodies entered the pool at speed. I didn't bother to open my eyes. I knew who it would be: my annoying little brother Nate and his latest squeeze.

He was annoying me more than usual at the moment. I couldn't believe that he had become inseparable from this Scott boy. It was bad enough that he was flaunting his gayness, but now he was doing it with a guy from the shitist neighbourhood in town.

God only knew where he had been or who he had been in. After all the hard work I had done to maintain my social standing, he was busy undermining it. I'd confronted him about how stupid he was being but he wasn't having any of it, as though a spell had been cast over him and he had lost all use of his critical faculties.

Still it would probably prove to be a phase which would burnout, I just had to be patient, and so I did my best to screen out the noise and relax myself again.

After about half an hour I started to feel a bit stiff, so I got up to sit down in a chair by the pool for a bit. As I looked across it though I was forced to take a sharp intake of breath out of surprise. There weren't two guys in the pool, there were three. I recognised my brother and his boyfriend but not the guy who was with them.

As I focussed in on this stranger I felt a shiver race down my spine, despite the heat of the sun beating down. I could only see his head as his body was submerged in the pool. But what I saw seemed to have had a profound physiological effect on me.

I took a few deep breaths to steady myself. The face that I was now intently focussed on could be described in just one word: masculine. His strong, rugged features screamed both strength and danger. This was a man's man, not the effeminate boys I was used to dealing with. His skin was a deep, dark brown, bronze even and seemed to glisten in the sun.

The guys were messing around, with lots of splashing and jostling, but it seemed that my movement had not gone unnoticed and I saw this strange man turn and look at me, straight in the eye. Even though he was still a good thirty feet away our eyes connected as though they had been locked together.

I fought to control myself as I looked into his emerald green eyes, which smouldered with a blazing power. I felt a thrill of excitement flood through me. It was like looking at the sun, both exhilarating and dangerous in equal measure.

I felt something which I hadn't felt in a long, long time. Uncertainty. My life was so mundane and mapped out. I knew how every scenario would unfold well before it did, knew how everyone would react, knew what they would do. But this dark, handsome stranger was something new. I could sense it. He had an aura of masculine power which I'd never encountered before and it was making the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

A small part of me felt scared, frightened. I might be bored of my world but at least I was in control of it. What was would happen if I lost that control? What damage could I do? But a larger part of myself was excited and eager to find out what would happen.

All of this flashed through my head in a second and before I knew it the mystery man had said, "I think I'll leave you guys too it." His voice was deep and rasping. It was exactly the kind of voice I would have expected a man like this to have and it only heightened my sense of intrigue.

I looked across and saw my brother and Scott were in each other's arms, their bodies entangled within each other and their lips drawing inexorably closer together. But before they met my brother shouted back, "Yeah, thanks Troy, I think your brother is just fine with that," before he turned back to Scott and plunging his face forward so that their mouths smashed together.

So this was Scott's brother? Well I guessed that made some sense now that I examined him more closely there were definite similarities. But it was like Troy was the colour version and Scott was the black-and-white one. His features just looked stronger, more defined, more imposing, more sexy.

The thought of the word sent more shivers through me and I felt my pussy twitch in excitement. My lack of release earlier was starting to show as a feeling of desire swept over me.

And now Troy was walking through the water towards me. His large frame, forcing the water roughly aside as he made fast progress. Quicker than I had expected he had reached the small ladder on the side nearest to me and was starting to rise out of the water.

I watched, transfixed as he slowly rose out of the water. First his powerful, broad shoulders came into view. He lifted his arms and ran his hands through his short, dark hair and in the process showed off his meaty biceps. These guns were fully loaded that was for sure. I'd seen muscled jocks before but nothing on this scale, I knew instinctively that one punch from those beasts would send any of them tumbling to the ground.

And then I saw his torso break the surface too. Water clung to his body, making him appear darker and causing his muscles to glow and twinkle in the hot sun. I felt dazzled as I saw the light bounce off every crevice on his washboard abs. I could feel my jaw starting to slacken as I admired how shredded he was.

His upper body looked so commanding, like a battleship that could sink a flotilla. There was a taper in from his shoulders down to his waist but it was only slight. I had never seen anything like it. This was a man who was built to take control, to dominate, to lead.

But all these thoughts were driven from my mind as more of his body emerged. And this time my jaw did drop and I gaped open mouthed at the sight before my eyes.

Troy was almost entirely out of the pool now and I was astonished to see that he was stark naked, without a stitch of clothing to hide his modesty. But then I saw that he had absolutely nothing to be modest about.

My eyes were fixed like a laser on the magnificent organ between his legs. Hell it was more like a fully-fledged symphony orchestra than a mere organ. Even after being in the cold pool his prick looked huge.

It was an even darker shade of brown and seemed to reach impossibly far down his muscled thighs. And then, behind his shaft I saw his two wrinkled plum-sized balls. My mind was in meltdown now as I thought about those balls and I couldn't help but think about how much cum this stallion would produce.

My girlfriends loved to gossip about how big all the guys in school were. But from what they'd told me Troy was in another league altogether. I had never seen, or even imagined anything like it before.

Troy was walking towards me now. It was a strutting, confident walk which you would expect from someone who owned this impressive mansion, not someone visiting from the dodgy end of town. But none of that mattered now.

All my attention was taken up by watching his dick, which was now swinging up and down as he covered the ground towards me. It was like a huge elephant trunk, thick and fleshy, getting bigger and bigger as it got nearer and nearer.

When he finally reached me Troy pulled up a chair and sat down next to me.

"You must be Grace. You look even hotter than Scott described."