I can’t believe it’s really happening. I’m participating in a sordid contest where billionaires measure which girl can take it deepest in her sweet spot. They call it a Pussy Depths Challenge, which is disgusting and crude. What kind of name is that?
Yet I’m not shocked by these things anymore because I’m used to it. Not only that, but I’ve come to expect it, believe it or not. What’s happened to the old Ava who wanted to go to graduate school for religion? Would my professors or my professional mentors approve of a dirty contest like this? Definitely not.
Yet, it’s because of graduate school that I’m doing this. Due to Carver’s deal, I stand to get a recommendation letter from the Pope himself as well as all of my future tuition paid. That means I’ll be accepted into my first choice school no problem, and be able to live comfortably for the six years of the program.
But is it worth it? I guess I’ve been compartmentalizing during my stay on the island. I keep telling myself that this is a different Ava from the real Ava who lives in the real world. Here, no one knows who I am so I can act out and do things I’d never even consider in my real life. Even more importantly, the moment I step onto the plane to get back to the mainland is the moment that I “forget” everything that happened here. I’ll never tell anyone where I disappeared to, or the source of my newfound riches. Instead, this is a past that I’m planning to bury.
But now, I’m here to win because my future depends on it, and because I know that’s what my Daddy wants. What Daddy wants is what Daddy gets.
Besides, Carver has been good to me. He’s used my body day and night, but at the same time, he’s also exceedingly kind and generous. He makes daily deposits into my bank account, as if they’re nothing to him.
“Again?” I ask when he steps over to his cell phone, getting ready to type in his bank account number.
“Again,” he confirms. “You did so well today, sweetheart. You took ten inches no problem, so I just want to give you a little reward.”
I lie back and sigh. To be honest, sometimes I have doubts. What girl wouldn’t in my place? I keep telling myself it’s about the money and the recommendation for graduate school, but who am I kidding? Carver is irresistible and I’d probably do this all for free, if he asked.
After all, it’s hard to keep my hands off Carver Temple. With his deep growly voice, laser-blue eyes and rough, strong hands, my body often melts into a mess before he’s even touched me. I adore the way he laughs too, and how he explains situations that I’d never be able to figure out on my own. Take the federal government’s Economic Opportunity Zone program, for example. You’d never think I’d be interested in something having to do with tax cuts and capital investment, but Carver actually made it interesting for me.
“What are EOZs?” I’d asked one day at breakfast as he read the paper. “Are they some weird alien?”
My lover chuckled, his blue eyes glancing at me over the paper.
“No, sweetheart, they’re a new investment vehicle designed to spur investment in downtrodden areas.”
I nodded. I’d gotten that much on my own.
“But why are they so popular now?”
Carver smiled wryly and closed the paper.
“They’re popular because they make rich people like me richer, even though they’re designed to help the poor. You see, capital naturally flows to the highest return yet lowest risk opportunities, and EOZs represent that.”
I nodded, trying to absorb everything.
“Yes, but what does that mean?”
Carver thought for a moment, and then began to explain.
“It means that rich people who invest in downtrodden areas will get tax deferrals on the original capital invested, and their investment gains will be tax-free if they keep their money in place for ten years.”
I wrinkled my nose. That was all well and good, but there were still a lot of questions floating through my mind.
“But how are particular areas designated as EOZs? Isn’t that what determines what helps people?”
Carver grinned and winked at me.
“Smart girl, because you just got to the crux of the conversation, sweetheart. That’s what all this hullabaloo is about. Some zones designated as EOZs actually aren’t poverty-stricken or downtrodden at all. Lobbyists for large real estate firms as well as major investors pushed this legislation through Congress, and that’s why there’s an exposé about it in the New York Times now. Because basically, rich people have created a tax shield for themselves, and it’s being marketed as a “once in a generation” opportunity.”
I nodded, thinking.
“So all these luxury condo developments and mega-malls aren’t going to benefit the working class, are they?”
Carver nodded.
“Probably not, sweetheart. There will be some trickle down, certainly, but most of the residents of EOZs wouldn’t be able to afford a luxury condo.”
Suddenly, I squinted at him a bit, shaking my head with confusion.
“Wait a minute, are you also investing in EOZs?”
He remained calm, taking a sip of his coffee.
“I am.”
I squinted at him some more.
“Are you building luxury condos and mega-malls and the like using EOZ money?”
To my relief, Carver shook his head.
“No sweetheart. I’m a billionaire but I’m not a heartless bastard. My money’s invested in EOZ funds that are looking to give back to the people who live there. We’ll be investing in small businesses in EOZ communities with an environmental bent, or which purpose includes some social benefit function.”
I let out a large exhale.
“I’m glad,” I said, smiling at him. “There are so many ways to go wrong, but it seems like you’re doing right here. I’m so glad you’re not one of the billionaires out to enrich themselves.”
One corner of his mouth went up in a wry grin.
“Yes, sweetheart. I’m happy about that too, but to be honest, money is money and I’m not running a charity either. Sure, I try to do the right thing, but sometimes what the right thing is isn’t always so clear. Most opportunities are a mix of the good and the bad, and you just have to make the best decision you can given the information you have on hand during that time.”
I nodded, floored by his words. After all, Carver wasn’t just demonstrating his intellect, but also his ethical judgment and philosophy of life. Not only is this man a machine when it comes to making money, but he’s more too; he cares about people and the world, and wants to do right given his enormous resources and personal sense of responsibility.
As a result, how can I not fall in love with a man like this? He’s incredible: generous, but with generosity tempered by practical realities; giving, yet also hyper-aware of the ramifications of his giving; and loving as well.
Because Carver is absolutely loving to me. He treats me like we’re really dating, even though I know we’re not. I know I’m his plaything for the duration of my stay at Maruba, yet he doesn’t make me feel like a possession that can easily be discarded.
“Are you okay?” he asked one night after a particularly hot and heavy session. “I can go back to my room.”
“I don’t mind,” I said, snuggling up against him and enjoying his warmth. “You can stay if you want.”
But he merely chuckled.
“No sweetheart,” he said, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. “You just took ten inches twice tonight, which makes twenty inches, and you need to get your rest. If I slept here too, you’d be taking thirty inches and things would start getting uncomfortable.”
I giggled at the thought, but the truth was this man has become the center of my universe because I love chatting with him, and I also adore making love to Carver. He’s insanely good-looking with those laser blue eyes, rough yet gentle hands, and most of all, his enormous tool. My mouth waters thinking of the ten inches, and I lie back now. It’s his contest, and I want him to win, so I smile while spreading my legs in welcome.
“Oh Carver,” I sigh, everything else fading to black except for him. “Yes, do it.”
I can hardly believe that we’re about to participate in the Pussy Depths challenge, but it’s true. Yet I’m not afraid nor ashamed because I’m with Carver, and that’s what makes things okay.
“That’s my good girl,” he growls, eyes gleaming as he kneels between legs. “Ignore everybody else. Just pretend it’s only us. Now lift your knees sweetheart, and juice a little for me.”
Everyone else, including the triplets, Amelia and the other billionaires have already faded into a gray haze. I lift my knees as Carver requests, pulling the robe off my body so that I’m nude except for my high heels. Then I reach down and pull the lips of my pussy open, showing him my wet hole.
“Right there,” I say throatily. “Put it in.”
He doesn’t waste a second. Slowly, he slides the pink toy into my depths, easing it into me. I throw my head back and let out a low moan, my huge breasts heaving. But five inches is easy and within seconds, it’s buried to the hilt.
Carver moves back a bit, while keeping his hand on the handle so that that everyone can see that the dildo is fully embedded in my depths. The two other billionaires’ eyes gleam as they applaud lightly.
“Great,” smiles Brett. “You’re next, Evan.”
With that, Evan approaches Amelia with his tool of choice as Carver slowly slides the pinkness out. I sigh again, letting out a moan and then press my thighs together with a sly smile at him. He leans forward and kisses me, pressing his lips to mine.
“You did so amazing, sweetheart,” he rasps. “We’ll definitely be going for gold.”
When our lips break apart, I look over and see that my friend Amelia, so shy when we arrived three months ago, is now taking a five-inch dildo all the way into her slick folds. She, like me, is all ripe curves and lush curls. She spreads her legs wide for her man and literally mouths Evan’s name as he pushes it in deeper.
“Yes, sweetheart,” he growls at her before bending his head to put a kiss on her clit. “You’ve done amazing.”
With that, he too shows the audience her capabilities, and then pulls it out.
“They’re our real competition,” Carver rasps in my ear, nodding at Evan and Amelia. “I know she’s your best friend, but I also know you can do better than her.”
I lightly bite his ear.
“I know that too,” is my whispered reply. “You can count on it.”
Sure enough, the triplets are ridiculous because frankly, they’re just not well-suited for this type of contest. In fact, one of the triplets bows out during this early round after thirty seconds or so. She looks tight down there, and unfortunately, she’s too tight inside. Brett can’t worm the toy into her despite repeatedly coating it in lube and finally the blonde sits up and snaps her thighs shut.
“I’m out,” she huffs angrily before storming out of the room, her heels clacking on the floors. “This is total bullshit.”
Brett merely shrugs.
“Bye Tandy. At least I still have Mandy and Candy,” he says, smiling at the remaining two girls. Obediently, they lie back and spread their legs, and Brett’s able to nudge the five-inchers into both of them. But it doesn’t look easy. I can tell they’re struggling, and they’re already nervous about the upcoming round.
“Six inches is next,” whispers Carver in my ear. “Are you ready?”
I nod as he tweaks my nipple and then walks over to the table once more. He picks up another tool, this one a bright pink shaft with the word “six” written on the bottom. It’s fat and bulbous and I go wet just seeing it.
Again, Carver’s technique is so good and it goes right in, slippery and slick.
“Oh!” I moan. “Yes!”
“There you go, folks,” he rumbles to the gathered audience. “Ava’s done it again.”
Sure enough, the bright pink is deep in my twat, and I cream wetly, welcoming the hard length. Carver pulls it out with a deep sucking sound and then presses an open-mouthed kiss to my hole.
“You’re doing so well,” he hums against my tenderness. “We’re going to win this thing for sure.”
But not so fast. Just like last time, Amelia takes six with no problem, and Evan grins when he pulls the toy out, dripping with her female nectar. Damn. They’re still in the game. But also just like before, another one of the triplets is eliminated within seconds. This time it’s Mandy storming off without a word as her blonde hair flies with rage.
In the next round, Candy, Amelia and I are all able to manage seven inches, although you can see Candy’s expression fill with strain as Brett pushes the toy deep inside.
“Ugh,” she grunts like a pig. “Ugh ugh.”
I smirk because I didn’t think it was ugh at all. In fact, my toy felt really good inside, and Carver’s still stirring it around inside me lazily just for fun.
When we get to eight inches, you can see that Candy wants to back out, but Brett urges her on.
“You can do it, sweetheart,” he rasps. “Come on, relax, relax, relax. I promise I’ll buy you a Bugatti if you hang on.”
It must be the word “Bugatti” that does it because then we hear a pop and then the toy goes all the way in. What in the world? What possibly could have been the source of that popping noise? But Candy’s on a roll.
“Oh god,” she moans, her face a rictus of mixed pain and pleasure. “Eee!”
The girl’s done good but unfortunately, nine inches is where Candy can’t hang with the big boys anymore. No matter how much Brett tries to coax his woman, she shakes her head vehemently, even with the toy stuck halfway inside.
“Enh!” she huffs emphatically. “I can’t!”
Finally, Brett succumbs and bows out.
“Gentlemen, it’s all you,” he rumbles with a shurg. Meanwhile, Amelia and I are still enjoying the hard lengths buried deep inside. Carver slides the toy out and leans in close to my ear.
“Are you ready sweetheart? Because you know ten is going to be the real thing.”
I giggle a bit, lifting my head to look at him. This is going to be fun because Carver himself is physically ten inches, and as he nears me with his hot, dripping cock, I cream a bit in anticipation.
“Yes, sweetheart,” he rasps while nudging my hole. “You can take this, easy-peasy.”
But it’s not easy because it never is. Each time is like the first time. He pushes inside and it’s so snug as always. I throw my head back and moan again, but he’s just so huge and commanding.
“Breathe,” he whispers in my ear. “Breathe, sweetheart, you’ve done this before.”
Finally, he’s buried balls deep and I let out a huge sigh.
“Ohhhh,” is my relieved exhale. Carver gives me a few pumps and then pulls out, leaving me empty.
“What?” I whine. “Why didn’t you finish?”
“Oh I’ll finish,” he says with a sly smile. “But let’s see how Amelia and Evan do first.”
Because sure enough, Evan’s approaching Amelia with hungry eyes and as I watch with surprise, Amelia lifts her knees and pulls her pussy apart, welcoming him. He slides in with no trouble and in fact, his balls slap audibly against her bottom. What the hell?
Brett chortles from the viewing station below.
“I guess it’s a tie,” he grunts. “Who knew that two of my brothers, who are both ten inches, would find two women who could take them? It’s a miracle.”
But then Evan withdraws, his pole gleaming and slick with Amelia’s juices. My friend tosses her head and moans, still hungry for her man. But Evan smirks and speaks.
“I don’t believe in ties,” he says. “In fact, I propose a tiebreaker. Back door. Ten inches. Are you game, Temple?”
Carver starts, looks at me, and then looks at Evan and nods. Meanwhile, I’m filled with apprehension. Ten inches the back way? Does that mean what I think it means? My heart races as I realize what’s coming next.