“I bet your husband would let me do this,” Johan laughed cruelly, forcing my hand to glide up and down his shaft. “Just like you let me, earlier…”
“Johan–”
“I know I’m bigger than he is, aren’t I?” he sneered, his voice dripping with arrogance. “So just let me fuck you for him…”
Suddenly, he reached forward and grabbed my blouse, tearing it open recklessly to expose the black bra strapped around my large, full breasts.
“JOHAN!” I screamed, my tits bouncing as I recoiled away from him. “YOU–YOU CAN’T DO THIS–”
In a single movement, he bent down and picked me up, tossing me onto the bed.
“STOP, JOHAN!” I cried, cowering on the bed, my breasts heaving as my breathing became ragged. “THIS IS MADNESS!”
“Let me fuck you, Nikki,” he growled, climbing onto the bed. “Let me fuck you and I’ll let Danny break my record tomorrow…”
“Johan–Johan, no,” I whimpered, trying to crawl away. “Wait–”
“We both know this is why you came here tonight,” he cried, grabbing my jeans and roughly unbuttoning them. “To do this, for Danny…”
A surge of adrenaline shot through me.
“You know Danny needs me,” Johan said, moving on top of me as he began to pull my jeans past my hips. “You know you need to do this for him…”
Somehow, these words cut through the tumult inside me. Because Johan was right.
I was here in Sydney because Danny needed me to be here for him. I was at this tournament, in this hotel, because Danny needed me to be here for him. And I was on this bed, with this aggressive young white man, because Danny needed me to be here for him.
With shocking clarity, I remembered my purpose as a mother.
I would do anything for my son. Even this.
“You–you have to cheer for him,” I stammered softly, rolling onto my back to face Johan. “You have to be a real friend to him…”
“Whatever you want, Nikki,” he said, his face lighting up victoriously as my black cotton underwear came into view. “Anything for you…”
“If I do this,” I said, my voice trailing off as he tossed my jeans onto the floor. “I won’t let you hurt Danny. I swear to God, if you ever hurt my son…”
“I wanna fuck your tits first,” Johan said, ignoring my words and straddling my midsection. “I’ve been dreaming of these tits since I was 13…”
“I’m serious, Johan!” I tried to sit up on my elbows, but he had me pinned to the bed beneath his body. “Promise me! Promise me that you’ll never do anything to hurt my son.”
“I promise,” he said hurriedly, gazing down at my body. “God, I can’t believe this is really happening…”
For a moment, I just looked up at him, watching him drink in my body. The look of pure lust in his eyes shamed me, but I was more ashamed of what it made me feel.
I’d never been someone’s obsession before, a trophy to be claimed, a land to be conquered. The feeling was electrifying, a cocktail of anger and shame and excitement and fear that I’d never tasted before.
For all his swaggering confidence, it was evident in Johan’s eyes that he never really believed that he would actually find himself in this position. But there he was, a 19-year-old college boy, poised with his oversized cock at full mast, the prone, supple body of his friend’s beautiful, big-breasted Asian mom lying there beneath him.