Chapter 3

Amber stormed around her sleek L.A. apartment, her long, straight blonde hair whipping as she raged, her voice a shrill bark cutting through the minimalist space. “That little bitch Mia quit—can you believe it? Left me high and dry after that fuck-up, and now I’ve got to do my own camera work like some amateur!” She flung a cushion across the room, her tan face flushed with fury, her curvy body still humming from Tyrell’s pounding the day before.

Jake sat on the couch, his sandy hair mussed, his fitness-vlogger frame tense as he tried to be supportive, his voice soft but strained. “Babe, I’m sorry, that sucks—how can I help?” She barely glanced at him, her narcissism a live wire, too wrapped up in her own drama to notice his fraying patience.

She’d calmed him down when she got home from Malibu, spinning a web of half-assed excuses to soothe his hurt over the viral livestream. “I lost control, Jake, it was a mistake,” she’d cooed, her blue eyes wide with fake sincerity. “I only sipped that champagne, but there must’ve been something in it—roofied or some shit, I don’t know, I wasn’t myself.” She’d tossed in a teary, “I didn’t mean for it to happen,” leaning into his smitten trust.

He’d swallowed it, nodding like a puppy, mumbling, “Okay, babe, I believe you.”

Now, though, his support wobbled as she paced, her bitchy edge sharpening, and she snapped, “Quiet, Jake, I need to film,” shoving him aside as she grabbed her phone, setting it up on a tripod she’d dug out of Mia’s abandoned gear.

Her sweet face clicked on like a switch, her pouty lips curling into a giddy smile as she started a selfie video, her voice all bubbly charm. “Hey, lovelies! Oh my gosh, I’m back from the most insane date with Ebony Ascent, and I have to spill! My guy, Tyrell—whew, where do I start? He’s this tall, ripped thug with a vibe that just owns you, and let me tell you, he fucked me senseless!”

She giggled, brushing her hair with her hand, her blue eyes sparkling for the camera. “He pinned me against the glass wall, his huge black cock stretching me so wide I couldn’t think—pounded me standing up, then slammed me against the villa window ‘til I was screaming. I came, like, five times, maybe more, clawing his back, begging for it—he’s a machine, you guys, cummed in me three times and didn’t even slow down!”

She leaned closer, her tone conspiratorial, still sweet. “It was so intense, I didn’t even realize we were livestreaming the whole thing—oops! But it’s just a little bonus for you, a slice of my real life, right? Tyrell’s cock—oh my God, it’s massive, thick, veiny, the best I’ve ever had, no contest. Ebony Ascent set this up, and it’s everything—you need to try it!”

She giggled again, shrugging off the scandal, then flashed a sign-up code onscreen. “Use my code ‘AmberGlow’ when you join—it’ll get you in, and I’ll get a little commission, so help your girl out! Seriously, Tyrell’s dick is worth it—sign up, lovelies, you won’t regret it!” She blew a kiss, shutting off the recording with a satisfied smirk, uploading it to Instagram without a second thought.

Jake’s face darkened as the video ended, his voice tight. “You said it was a mistake, Amber, but you’re bragging about how awesome it was—what the hell?”

She spun on him, her sweet mask gone, her bitch-rage erupting. “Oh my God, Jake, shut the fuck up and get out of my apartment! You can’t fuck worth a damn anyway—your tiny dick and that quick little squirt? Pathetic!” She sneered, ridiculing him, her voice venomous. “Tyrell fucked me ‘til I couldn’t walk, and you’re whining like a baby—get out, loser!” Jake flinched, his eyes wet, but he grabbed his jacket and bolted, the door slamming behind him as she scoffed, her narcissism unfazed, her breakup a footnote to her clout.

Alone, Amber flopped onto the couch, her phone lighting up with notifications as her video racked up views—50K in minutes. She roamed to Tyrell’s Instagram, noting his followers had shot up to 100K overnight, his grid a parade of shirtless clips—flexing at the gym, smirking at clubs, his raw power and sexual magnetism leaping off the screen. She watched, still awed by his chiseled physique, his dark skin gleaming, his thug edge a pull she couldn’t shake. The thirsty comments from women piled up, explicit and desperate:

• “Tyrell, ruin me like you did Amber—PLEASE!”

• “That body, that dick—I’m begging for a hookup, king!”

• “Hottest man alive—date me, I’ll dump anyone for you!”

• “Saw the livestream, need that thug cock in my life—DM me!”

Her pussy ached, a traitor to her anger, as she scrolled, his dominance replaying in her mind—Jake’s limp performance a ghost next to it.

Her phone buzzed mid-scroll—Tyrell’s DM: “Liked your video, princess—sounds like you’re ready for round two.”

She bristled, her bitchy pride flaring, and fired back, “Fuck you,” her thumbs slamming the screen. But a minute later, her pussy throbbing, her resolve crumbled—she DM’d again, “Fine, let’s meet,” her anger no match for the need he’d ignited. She tossed the phone aside, staring at the ceiling, her body humming with anticipation, her million followers and their frenzy a distant roar as Tyrell’s pull tightened its grip.

Amber stepped out of the elevator into Tyrell’s downtown L.A. penthouse, the city skyline glittering through the floor-to-ceiling windows, a stark contrast to her simmering anticipation. She’d dressed to kill for him—blonde hair glossy and loose, a tight black mini-dress hugging her curvy body, the hem barely covering her ass, paired with strappy stilettos that clicked on the hardwood. No bra, no panties—just a thong so tiny it was a whisper, her tan skin shimmering with body oil, her blue eyes sharp with intent. She wanted to fuck, her pussy aching since his DM, Jake’s pathetic memory fueling her need for Tyrell’s raw power. She tossed her hair, preening as she strode in, expecting him to pounce the second he saw her.

Tyrell lounged on a leather couch, shirtless, his chiseled chest and bulging arms gleaming under the penthouse lights, low-slung jeans hinting at the massive cock she craved. He smirked, eyeing her up and down, his dark gaze predatory. “Lookin’ hot, princess,” he drawled, but before she could strut closer, he leaned back, unzipping his jeans. “Blow me first—suck this dick.”

Amber froze, her bitchy side flaring, her lips curling into a sneer. “What? No, I came here to fuck, not just suck you off,” she snapped, hands on her hips, her voice sharp with entitlement. She expected him to cave, to want her pussy too much to argue, but his smirk vanished, replaced by a hard glint as he stood, towering over her.

His hand lashed out, smacking her across the face—not hard enough to bruise, but sharp enough to sting, her cheek flaring red as she gasped, stunned. “Suck my dick or get the fuck out,” he growled, his tone icy, commanding. “I got plenty of white pussy on speed dial—don’t need your attitude.”

Shock flooded her, her jaw dropping, but beneath it, awe surged—his power, his manliness, the sheer dominance in his stance overwhelmed her. Her bitchy pride crumbled, her pussy twitching despite her frustration, and she nodded meekly, her voice small. “Okay, fine,” she muttered, sinking to her knees on the hardwood, her stilettos scraping as she faced his unzipped jeans, his cock already half-hard and massive.

Tyrell sat back, spreading his legs, his thick, veined shaft springing free as he pulled it out, a beast that made her breath hitch, her awe from the villa flooding back. “Start slow, lips only,” he instructed, his voice firm, one hand resting on her head, fingers tangling in her hair.

She obeyed, leaning in, her pouty lips brushing the fat head, tasting the pre-cum beading there—salty, musky, intoxicating. She kissed it, then parted her lips, taking the tip in, sucking gently as he groaned, his hand guiding her. “That’s it, nice and easy,” he said, controlling her, his grip steady but unyielding, and she moaned softly, her pussy dripping into her thong despite her earlier rage, the act stoking a heat she couldn’t deny.

“Deeper now—halfway,” he commanded, his hand pushing her head down, his cock sliding further into her mouth, stretching her lips wide. She gagged slightly, her throat tightening, but he held her there, his fingers tightening in her hair. “Relax, bitch, take it,” he ordered, and she did, her tongue flattening against the veiny underside, her gag reflex easing as she sucked, her head bobbing at the pace he set—slow, deliberate, luxurious. Her hands rested on his thighs, feeling the hard muscle beneath, and she whimpered, her frustration melting into need, her pussy clenching as he dominated her, his control a turn-on she hadn’t expected. Mia wasn’t here, no camera, just them—and yet she felt exposed, owned.

“Faster—use that tongue,” Tyrell said, his voice rougher now, his other hand joining the first, both gripping her head, guiding her deeper still. She sped up, her lips sliding along his girth, her tongue swirling around the head each time she pulled back, then diving down, taking him to the back of her throat. He groaned louder, “Fuck, yeah, like that,” his hands forcing her rhythm, pushing her until her nose brushed his pubic hair, his musk filling her senses. She moaned around him, drool slipping down her chin, her eyes watering as she sucked, her pussy soaking her thong, dripping onto her thighs. She hated his smugness, his slap, but her body betrayed her, aching for him, his power a drug she couldn’t resist.

“All the way—deep-throat it,” he growled, his hands relentless, shoving her head down until his cock filled her throat, her lips pressed to his base. She choked, gagging hard, but he held her there, his shaft throbbing as she struggled, then adjusted, her throat opening under his command. “Good girl, take that thug dick,” he praised, his tone degrading yet approving, and she sucked harder, her head bobbing fast now, her moans vibrating around him. Her pussy pulsed, wet and empty, her frustration a distant echo as she gave in, her long, luxurious blowjob a surrender to his will. She felt his cock twitch, his groans deepening, and she knew he was close, her awe at his size, his stamina, driving her on despite herself.

Tyrell tensed, his grip tightening, and he came, flooding her mouth with hot, thick cum, more than she could handle. She swallowed, gulping desperately, but some dribbled out, streaking her chin, her mini-dress, as she pulled back, gasping. He chuckled, releasing her hair, his cock still hard, glistening with her spit. “Not bad, princess—you’re learnin’,” he said, smirking as she knelt there, dazed, her pussy dripping wet, her frustration tangled with lust. She wiped her mouth, her blue eyes glaring up at him, but her body hummed, hooked on his power, his control, the smack still stinging her cheek a reminder of who owned her now.

Then Tyrell grabbed her, his cock still rock-hard, not softening a bit. He lifted her like she was nothing, tossing her onto the leather couch, her black mini-dress hiked up, thong long gone. She landed on her back, her blonde hair splaying out, her tan legs falling open as he loomed over her, his massive black cock throbbing, glistening with her spit. He smirked, kneeling between her thighs, and teased her dripping pussy with the fat head, dragging it along her swollen lips slow and deliberate, driving her wild with need. She moaned, her hips twitching, her blue eyes locked on his shaft, her frustration from the blowjob morphing into raw hunger.

He pushed in, slow and deep, his thick cock stretching her pussy inch by inch, the veins rubbing her walls as he sank to the hilt, balls brushing her ass. Amber groaned, her hands clawing the leather, her body trembling as he set a teasing pace—long, languid strokes that filled her completely, then withdrew almost fully, leaving her aching for more. She tried to hump back, to speed him up, her hips bucking desperately, but he pinned her down, his muscular arms caging her, his weight pressing her into the couch. “Fuck, Tyrell, faster,” she whined, her voice a needy rasp.

He chuckled, holding her still. “Look at you, horny little slut—tryin’ so hard for this dick,” he taunted, his tone smug, rubbing in her desperation as he kept the slow, torturous rhythm.

Her swearing erupted, anger flaring through her lust. “Asshole, fuck me harder, damn it!” she spat, her nails digging into his arms, but she was hooked, her pussy clenching around his massive black cock, unable to resist.