Boy Toy Chronicles
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PROLOGUE
I look down at the woman on her knees in front of me—her eyes wide and filled with lust. She sticks out her tongue and starts licking my cock like she’s a cat, and my dick is her paw.
Lick lick lick.
It does nothing for me but going by her moans of pleasure; she’s clearly enjoying it. And that’s what I’m here for.
For her enjoyment.
“Say my name,” she says.
Shit. What the fuck is her name?
“Oh…that feels so good…ma’am.” I tilt my head back for extra emphasis.
This makes her moan louder. “You know I like it when you call me ma’am. It’s so naughty.”
No, I didn’t know that. But at least it saves me from trying to remember her name.
She keeps on with the tiny licks while I try hard to stay…well, hard. I close my eyes and picture the cute little redhead with the horn-rimmed glasses from Biology class. I imagine it’s her on her knees in front of me with her pouty red lips wrapped around me—my hands in her hair, gentle but controlling.
Ma’am moans and I picture Red looking up at me, her eyes wide, smiling around my…
“Okay!” Ma’am shouts, interrupting my thoughts.
My eyes snap open just in time to see her standing and wiping her mouth. “I’m ready for you to fuck me now, Tyler.”
“Okay,” I agree. “Where do you want it?”
“In my vagina,” she says incredulously. “I’m not like that.”
A chuckle escapes. “I mean where would you like me to fuck you? Bed? Couch? Shower?”
Her eyes light up.
“How much extra for all three?”
CHAPTER ONE
I leave Ma’am sprawled on her bed, naked and fully satisfied as I zip up my pants and throw my shirt over my head. “Your payment’s on the dresser,” she says.
Nodding, I make my way over to the pile of cash. Once I’ve made sure it’s all there, I turn to her and pretend to give her the once over, licking my lips as I do. She’s not a bad looking lady, especially for someone in her forties. She’s just needy. And I make sure I’m exactly what she needs. “Until next time?” I ask.
Sitting up, she reaches over and grabs my waistband, pulling me to her. I grasp her wrists and remove her hands. Then I wave a finger in her face. “Nuh uh,” I scold mockingly. “You only paid for the hour.”
She pouts. I guess she thinks it’s supposed to look hot. Or cute, at least. I pat her head twice and turn around, ignoring her pleas to stay another half hour.
Then I skip down the stairs, glancing at the pictures of her and her husband hanging on the wall. Shaking my head, I mutter, “Poor bastard.”
The front door opens and Cynthia walks in.
I know her name because she, too, is one of my clients. Younger, much hotter—think Sofia Vergara minus the really thick accent. It also helps that she sucks dick like a Hoover. Unlike… fuck. I should really make sure I get her name before her next appointment.
“Mr. West,” Cynthia says, bringing in some groceries. She’s an in-home chef for the elite around here.
I nod in greeting. “Cynthia.”
“Pleasure to see you.”
I wink and come up next to her, placing my hand on her waist. She lets out a tiny gasp. “Oh, Cynthia,” I whisper, “The pleasure is always mine.”
***
I get to the frat house with a half hour to spare before class. Chase is in his usual spot; sitting at his desk in the den. “West,” he says without looking up from his computer.
I slump down on the chair on the other side of the desk.
“You done with Mrs. Robinson?” he drawls, his thick southern accent coming out full force.
“Who?”
“Gail?”
“Who?”
He sighs and looks up. “You had an appointment just now. Did you forget?”
“Her name’s Mrs. Robinson?” I laugh. “No shit?”
Chase shakes his head at me. “You had a client complain last week that you forgot her name. They’re paying you good money, West. And they do that because—”
“Okay,” I interrupt. “I get it.” I throw the cash on the table.
He counts it.
“Five hundred. It’s all there.”
He hands back my share—two hundred—and goes back to his laptop. I start to get up when he says, “House meeting tonight. Don’t forget.”
“I know.” I roll my eyes at him. “I’m the one who called it, asshole.”
He looks up now.
I glare back.
Then he smiles. “Have a good day, Prez.”
Prez—that’s me—also known as Tyler West.
6”2’, brown hair, green eyes, athletic build, and passionate about making women happy—or at least that’s what my profile says.
I’m also president of the Kappa Nu Tau house. Or, as it’s known on campus the Kunt house. Sure, we should be offended, but generations of our brothers didn’t have a problem with it so neither should we. About a year ago our main source of funding died. And when I say died, I mean the seventy-year-old alumni had a heart attack underneath a twenty-two year old blonde with the hugest, fakest tits any of us had ever seen. The girl happened to be his son’s fiancée. So you can guess what happened when his son got hold of his assets and realized that Pops—that’s what we called Sherman Heywood, owner and operator of Heywood Industries, a large pornography company—was dumping hundreds of thousands of dollars a year into his old frat house. The asshole son took away our funding, but kept his cheating fiancé. Clearly, the guy had a bad grasp on his priorities. He never went to college, choosing instead to live off his father’s wealth, so it makes sense that he wouldn’t understand brotherhood if it came up and licked his golden asshole.
I look down at the woman on her knees in front of me—her eyes wide and filled with lust. She sticks out her tongue and starts licking my cock like she’s a cat, and my dick is her paw.
Lick lick lick.
It does nothing for me but going by her moans of pleasure; she’s clearly enjoying it. And that’s what I’m here for.
For her enjoyment.
“Say my name,” she says.
Shit. What the fuck is her name?
“Oh…that feels so good…ma’am.” I tilt my head back for extra emphasis.
This makes her moan louder. “You know I like it when you call me ma’am. It’s so naughty.”
No, I didn’t know that. But at least it saves me from trying to remember her name.
She keeps on with the tiny licks while I try hard to stay…well, hard. I close my eyes and picture the cute little redhead with the horn-rimmed glasses from Biology class. I imagine it’s her on her knees in front of me with her pouty red lips wrapped around me—my hands in her hair, gentle but controlling.
Ma’am moans and I picture Red looking up at me, her eyes wide, smiling around my…
“Okay!” Ma’am shouts, interrupting my thoughts.
My eyes snap open just in time to see her standing and wiping her mouth. “I’m ready for you to fuck me now, Tyler.”
“Okay,” I agree. “Where do you want it?”
“In my vagina,” she says incredulously. “I’m not like that.”
A chuckle escapes. “I mean where would you like me to fuck you? Bed? Couch? Shower?”
Her eyes light up.
“How much extra for all three?”
CHAPTER ONE
I leave Ma’am sprawled on her bed, naked and fully satisfied as I zip up my pants and throw my shirt over my head. “Your payment’s on the dresser,” she says.
Nodding, I make my way over to the pile of cash. Once I’ve made sure it’s all there, I turn to her and pretend to give her the once over, licking my lips as I do. She’s not a bad looking lady, especially for someone in her forties. She’s just needy. And I make sure I’m exactly what she needs. “Until next time?” I ask.
Sitting up, she reaches over and grabs my waistband, pulling me to her. I grasp her wrists and remove her hands. Then I wave a finger in her face. “Nuh uh,” I scold mockingly. “You only paid for the hour.”
She pouts. I guess she thinks it’s supposed to look hot. Or cute, at least. I pat her head twice and turn around, ignoring her pleas to stay another half hour.
Then I skip down the stairs, glancing at the pictures of her and her husband hanging on the wall. Shaking my head, I mutter, “Poor bastard.”
The front door opens and Cynthia walks in.
I know her name because she, too, is one of my clients. Younger, much hotter—think Sofia Vergara minus the really thick accent. It also helps that she sucks dick like a Hoover. Unlike… fuck. I should really make sure I get her name before her next appointment.
“Mr. West,” Cynthia says, bringing in some groceries. She’s an in-home chef for the elite around here.
I nod in greeting. “Cynthia.”
“Pleasure to see you.”
I wink and come up next to her, placing my hand on her waist. She lets out a tiny gasp. “Oh, Cynthia,” I whisper, “The pleasure is always mine.”
***
I get to the frat house with a half hour to spare before class. Chase is in his usual spot; sitting at his desk in the den. “West,” he says without looking up from his computer.
I slump down on the chair on the other side of the desk.
“You done with Mrs. Robinson?” he drawls, his thick southern accent coming out full force.
“Who?”
“Gail?”
“Who?”
He sighs and looks up. “You had an appointment just now. Did you forget?”
“Her name’s Mrs. Robinson?” I laugh. “No shit?”
Chase shakes his head at me. “You had a client complain last week that you forgot her name. They’re paying you good money, West. And they do that because—”
“Okay,” I interrupt. “I get it.” I throw the cash on the table.
He counts it.
“Five hundred. It’s all there.”
He hands back my share—two hundred—and goes back to his laptop. I start to get up when he says, “House meeting tonight. Don’t forget.”
“I know.” I roll my eyes at him. “I’m the one who called it, asshole.”
He looks up now.
I glare back.
Then he smiles. “Have a good day, Prez.”
Prez—that’s me—also known as Tyler West.
6”2’, brown hair, green eyes, athletic build, and passionate about making women happy—or at least that’s what my profile says.
I’m also president of the Kappa Nu Tau house. Or, as it’s known on campus the Kunt house. Sure, we should be offended, but generations of our brothers didn’t have a problem with it so neither should we. About a year ago our main source of funding died. And when I say died, I mean the seventy-year-old alumni had a heart attack underneath a twenty-two year old blonde with the hugest, fakest tits any of us had ever seen. The girl happened to be his son’s fiancée. So you can guess what happened when his son got hold of his assets and realized that Pops—that’s what we called Sherman Heywood, owner and operator of Heywood Industries, a large pornography company—was dumping hundreds of thousands of dollars a year into his old frat house. The asshole son took away our funding, but kept his cheating fiancé. Clearly, the guy had a bad grasp on his priorities. He never went to college, choosing instead to live off his father’s wealth, so it makes sense that he wouldn’t understand brotherhood if it came up and licked his golden asshole.
