I tried telling Olivia about the man from earlier and she kept interrupting and talking about her uncle.

In a way I was beginning to get irritated as I wanted her to hear my thoughts too, perhaps the pressure I was feeling in between my legs would douse off if I shared my thoughts with her.

"You see, this is one of my uncle's latest whip," she said, pressing a button in between to reveal a champagne cooler, she pulled out a bottle of champagne and the glass, "Help me hold this"

She said, motioning me to hold one of the glasses as she poured into our glasses.

"Oh he has quite an expensive taste" I whispered as I sipped from my glass.

"So tell me about this new guy you have been wanting to tell me about" she asked, crossing her legs.

Finally!

I took a deep breath, taking another sip before speaking, "Babe, that man is a god, you need to see how his presence dominated the cafe, now I know the men in Tampa do little about their appearance, that Man was different"

"Tell me about it!" Olivia leapt.

We were discussing when the car pulled to a stop.

"We are here Madam," the chauffeur said, alighting to come open the door for us.

We had to postpone our conversation until when we were settled on the yacht.

I stepped onto the yacht with Olivia, my heart pounding as my eyes travelled around the vicinity in split seconds.

These people looked rich!!

As much as I tried to match up the energy, I could not help but admit the feeling brewing inside me, that I looked cheap, smelt cheap and felt cheap.

That's how intimidated being in here made me feel.

The sea waves were such a sight to behold, a gust of fresh air brushed against my face as I scanned the deck, feeling partly super excited and nervous.

"This way please" Olivia said, leading the way.

It appeared she knew her way around. Perhaps she had been here several times, she was the one with the rich uncle.

Olivia kept looking around as we walked through.

"There he is" I heard her say, but I didn't see who she was referring to.

As we made our way along the deck, my eyes locked on a familiar figure.

There, under a soft pool of light near the railing, stood the man I had seen at the café in Ybor City.

What the hell!!

Is that who I think it is?

In that instant, my mind spun with wild, vivid images.

I imagined his warm eyes meeting mine and, in a heat of passion, our lips would meet in a passionate kiss.

I felt my pulse race as my thoughts travelled miles around the spheres of flagrant fornication.

For a moment, I was lost -He was tall, with broad shoulders and a square-like jawline covered with nicely trimmed beards. His salt-and-pepper hair was styled perfectly, and his eyes were small, seductive and fierce. He was a daddy! He was all I needed to have a pleasant night's rest, or was it the fullness of his lips as I imagined all the naughty things they would do on my nipple?

I had been so lost in thought, imagining him fucking me hardcore, that I hadn't even noticed Olivia waving her hand in front of my face.

"Hey Uncle, Meet Jules!! And Jules, this is my uncle and godfather, Charles Davenport," she said, introducing us.

I blinked, startled, as Olivia stepped forward with an excited smile. Standing next to her stunning and fashionably dressed Godfather, it was then it dawned on me fully, he was the man from the café.

This has got to be fate playing a fast one on me.

I blushed, feeling a little embarrassed about my dirty thoughts. But as I looked into Charles's eyes, I couldn't help the tension I was feeling inside me.

Shortness of breath, vibrating lips and electricity shooting through my veins as I tried to compose myself.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Juliana," he said with the deepest voice I have ever heard from a man, my vagina was screaming!

I felt a shiver run down my spine as he took my hand and kissed it gently.

Dead!

Did Charles Davenport just kiss my hand? I said in my mind, but I maintained a straight face trying not to show how excited I was. I didn't want to sell myself short.

God knows it took all of me to act like I did not care that just did that. If only my friend knew the abominable things her uncle was doing to me in my head.

I took his hand, still a bit shaken, and managed a small smile. "The pleasure is mine," I replied, whisperingly.

A part of me wanted to escape to the restroom and finger myself aggressively till I came, just thinking about this Man. That's how intense the feeling of doing naughty things to this man was.

Olivia, noticing my distraction, laughed gently and whispered to my heart. "I think your imagination might have taken over for a moment there, Jules."

"What is my niece saying?" Charles asked with a smile on his face

I smiled sheepishly. "Nothing really, I'm sorry. I... I got lost in thought," I admitted, feeling embarrassed that she had noticed.

"Uncle, did I tell you, Jules is a fan of Ivy Luxora?"

"Oh is that so?" He laughed softly.

"Get ready, she has a lot to ask you today" Olivia cooed.

"Please don't take her seriously" I playfully said, trying my best to avoid his eyes.

"So Uncle, what do you have for us tonight?" Olivia asked.

"What would you like us to do?" He asked.

"Anything?" I heard Olivia say.

"You name it and it shall be done my beautiful niece" he said with so much pride.

At this point, my vagina was wailing at the delight that this man was.

Olivia suggested we all take a dip in the hot tub. I partially agreed I was not expecting him to oblige, but he did, much to my amazement.

He looked around and spotted one of the stewards adjusting a lounge chair nearby.

"Gregory, a moment, please"

"Of course, sir. What do you need?" The steward said, walking up to us.

"My niece, Olivia, and her charming friend Jules have just come aboard. I'd like the hot tub prepped-heated, clean, and made presentable. Some soft towels and perhaps a tray of strawberries and champagne as well. Do you smoke?" Charles turned to me.

I was surprised, I had forgotten what to reply and shook my head to show my disapproval with a smile on my face. I did not smoke.

"Okay then, Gregory, you know what to do, run along now" He ordered.

"Very good, sir. Shall I have the mood lighting set as well?

Charles chuckled lightly. "Just a tasteful ambience"

"Understood sir, I will have it ready in twenty minutes" Gregory said, bowing before he walked away.

For over twenty minutes we were talking, I found myself staring and passively contributing, laughing at every small joke even when it barely had any humour attached.

But I was having fun.

We were discussing until Gregory came to inform us that the hot tube was ready.

We were directed to where we could change into our bath suit.

As I stepped out in my bathing suit, Olivia said she needed to take a quick call and would join us shortly.

I couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious I prayed my butt was the right size for him, I hoped my boobs were big enough for him. But when I looked over at Charles, I saw that he was watching me with a hungry look in his eyes. Perhaps, the constraints of social modesty - being that I was his niece's best friend kept him from approaching me already.

I felt my pussy growing extremely wet as I imagined him taking me right there in the hot tub, his hard dick filling me up and making me scream with pleasure. I couldn't help but touch myself as I fantasized about him, my fingers circling my clit as I moaned softly.

"Juliana, are you okay?" Olivia asked, noticing my distracted expression as she walked towards the tub.

"Yeah, I'm just...feeling a little warm," I said, trying to play it cool. But as I looked over at Charles, sipping his wine and peering at me with his tiger-like eyes, I could feel the burning heat waves in his eyes, and I don't know why, but I felt he was thinking the same thing I was.

"How old are you?" He asked, sipping wine and smoking his kush.

"Uncle, you dont ask a grown woman her age" Olivia said with a playful frown.

"23" I responded immediately but recoiled into my shell almost immediately.

As the night wore on, I found myself alone with Charles on the deck. It was just both of us with the moon hanging over us in the sky. I couldn't resist any longer – I leaned in and kissed him, feeling his lips rub against mine.

He groaned, his hands grabbing my ass and pulling me closer. I could feel his hard dick pressing against me, it was the biggest dick ever, turgid, very hard with veins and I knew I had to have him.

"Fuck me, Daddy, please," I whispered, my voice purring with desire. "Please fuck me..."

He didn't need any more encouragement. He picked me up and carried me to a nearby cabin, throwing me down on the bed and violently tearing off my bikini. Just how I wanted it. I watched as he undressed, slipping out of the last piece of clothing - his brief, his muscular body on display for me.

He was very huge and stood like a tower over my fragile body frame. He climbed on top of me, trapping me beneath him, his dick fat around the cap and extremely hard, I feared it was going to snap. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer as he slid inside me. I moaned as he filled me up, his thrusts hard and deep.

I gasped. Air escaped my throat as a wave of excruciating pain rushed through me.

"You are so fucking tight," he groaned, his hands gripping my hips as he tore deeper into me.

"Open me up Daddy, make me yours, dig me, Daddy, please" I cried.

His dick was so big, I wondered if I could last another minute pretending I was enjoying his thrust, my pussy was struggling to adjust to his size.

"Daddy, my pussy is going to fall apart" I screamed.

"You like it, dont you? You like being big daddy's slut?" I heard him say as he pounded harder into me.

"Yessssssss daddy! Yes!!!! Yes," I screamed.

I could feel myself getting close, my orgasm building deep inside me.

"I'm going to come," I gasped, my nails digging into his back.

"Come for me, Jules," he growled, his thrusts getting, heavier, harder and faster.

I screamed as I came, my pussy clenching around his dick as he fucked the waves of pleasure out of me. He followed soon after, his hot cum filling me up as he groaned my name.

Just then I heard; "Jules! You seem lost again!" Olivia interrupted, jolting me back to reality. Fuck, I felt super embarrassed.

"I am sorry, I just can't seem to move on from the crazy situation I had with Richard earlier" I lied.

"Who is Richard?" Charles asked.

"Her Ex-boyfriend, who won't leave her alone" Olivia responded before I could even speak.

"Hope he is not harassing you?" Charles asked, puffing the smoke from his blunt.

"Not at all," I said, sipping my drink.

"Oh Jules, please forget about Richard and enjoy the moment with us, you always wanted to talk to my uncle about his summer 2022 collection, it was one of your faves," Olivia said, nudging beside me.

Charles gave me that,' you should listen to your friend,' kind of look. Before he spoke.

"I dont know where to place your face, but I know you look familiar," he said.

He was right, I was the girl from the cafe in Ybor City.

I sipped the Earl Grey slowly, letting the warmth calm my nerves. Charles had settled across from me at the long neatly cleaned counter, his sleeves pushed up, a faint crease between his brows. He looked more relaxed now, less like the elusive fashion icon and more like a man who enjoyed good tea and even better company.

"This blend," I said, cradling the cup, "it's perfect. Subtle, but strong. Like your designs, actually."

His mouth twitched with a small smile. "You see connections in everything, don't you?"

I shrugged, embarrassed but pleased. "It's just how my brain works. I guess it's the storyteller in me."

"You've got a rare gift," he said, setting his cup down gently. "You don't just write-you feel. That's what made me agree to this as I have been reading your blogs since my niece told me about you."

His words caught me off guard.

Yes Daddy, fuck me already.

I wasn't used to such direct praise, especially not from someone like him. For a moment, I just stared into my tea, unsure how to respond.

"You know," he added after a pause, "most people just want to know about the money, the fame, the 'scandalous details' of the brand's growth. But you... you're interested in the story under the fabric."

He was wrong for this part, really wrong. I was interested in the dick!

I was interested in the meat under the fabric, fuck!

His deep baritone voice was not helping at all

Why was he so slow to pick up the fact that my pussy had turned into brewing refinery by just staring at him.

But I had to play pretend.

I looked up, feeling my cheeks warm. "That's the real story, isn't it? Not the headlines, but the heartbeat."

We shared a quiet smile.

Then, because the silence was starting to feel a little too long, I glanced around and said, "You're so put together. I wonder what you home would look like, I guess beautiful. It would feel lived-in but still elegant. Like someone who reads a lot and appreciates silence."

That was my first shot at him trying to know I wanted a special invite to his house already.

He chuckled. "That's oddly accurate. I like space. I don't do well with too much noise."

"I'm the opposite," I replied. "I love a bit of chaos. The fashion shows, the street markets, the back alleys of cities most people wouldn't bother with. There's always something unexpected."

"Have you travelled much?"

"Not as much as I want to," I admitted. "But I've got a list. Paris, obviously. Tokyo, for the edge. Lagos for colour and culture. You?"

"Been to all three," he said, eyes distant for a second. "But not as a tourist. Always work. Never really had the luxury to wander and enjoy."

"That's sad," I said without thinking. "All that beauty, and you're too busy to take it in?"

He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Maybe I didn't have the right reason to slow down."

There was something about the way he looked at me then-curious, as if he was still working out whether I was the reason or just another observer passing through his world.

I quickly changed the subject. "Did you always want to do fashion?"

God knows the conversation was beginning to taste like burnt fried egg. I was too thirsty for this man to sit through this conversation and not show him how much I want him.

He leaned back in his chair and exhaled. "No. At first, I wanted to build houses. Be an architect. I used to draw buildings in the back of my school books."

"What changed?"

"My mother." His voice softened. "She was a seamstress. Small jobs. Hemming trousers, fixing zips. One day I saw her hand-stitch a gown from scratch. No pattern. Just instinct. It was... magic."

I smiled. "So you inherited the eye?"

"Maybe. But not the patience," he said, laughing. "She always said I was too stubborn to sew straight."

"You know," I said, resting my chin in my hand, "if you ever get tired of anonymity, you'd make a brilliant public speaker. Your voice alone could sell fabric."

This was my second shot, the high witches of whoredom were dancing around my head like stubborn flies .

He raised an eyebrow. "Trying to get me out of hiding already?"

"Not at all," I said, grinning. "But your story deserves to be heard. Even if it's just on tape."

There was a warm silence after that. The kind that didn't feel awkward or empty-just... easy. I caught myself staring at the faint scruff on his jaw, the way his hands moved when he talked. Elegant. Precise.

Those hands certainly looked like they knew where they belonged, inside the warm depths of my vagina and if this man failed to catch this vibe, I dont know what I would do.

Stop it, I warned myself. He's Olivia's uncle. He's also your dream interview. Do not be that girl who falls for the ingredients and gets cooked...

But my imagination was already ahead of me. I pictured him fucking me while standing, thrashing me against the wall upclose, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Saying something soft, just for me. His lips-

I blinked hard, forcing my gaze away. "Sorry," I said quickly. "Got lost in thought."

He tilted his head, amused. "Anything interesting?"

"Oh, you know," I said with forced lightness, "just how I'm going to write the most professional blog post ever without sounding like a complete fangirl."

"You can be honest," he said. "That's what makes you good."

I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could, my phone buzzed. A message from Olivia.

Olivia: Did you thank me yet? Or are you too busy trying to get your next scoop from my uncle?

I nearly choked on my tea and quickly flipped the screen over.

"Everything okay?" Charles asked.

"Fine. Just Olivia being... Olivia."

He chuckled knowingly. "She means well, even when she's meddling."

"She really does," I said. Then I added, more seriously, "She's always believed in me, even when I didn't. If not for her, I'd probably still be writing blog posts for five followers and a dog."

He looked at me intently. "And now?"

"Now?" I smiled. "Now I'm having tea with the one man I've dreamt of interviewing for years."

He seemed to weigh that for a second before saying, "It won't be the last time."

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he said slowly, "if you ever want more access-for future pieces, behind-the-scenes stories, even event coverage-I trust you."

The weight of his words settled on me like silk. "You're serious?"

"Completely."

I stood then, needing to move, needing to process. I wandered toward nothing in particular. I need to rub my thighs together my vagina was aching and begging for his dick.

He joined me, looking over my shoulder. "My parents. That's Olivia's mum there. We were close."

There was something tender in his voice, a softness that made him feel more human, less distant.

"You've got layers to yourself," I said.

"So do you," he replied.

The clock chimed softly in the distance. I realised how much time had passed.

"I should go," I said reluctantly, reaching for my bag. "I've taken enough of your evening."

"You haven't," he said, walking me to the door. "This was... refreshing."

We paused at the threshold. The air was warm, scented with the salt of the bay.

"Thank you, Charles," I said sincerely. "For trusting me. For opening up this much."

"Thank you," he said back, and there was something in his eyes again. Something I couldn't quite name.

I was disappointed. I wanted him eating my couchie, but there he was staring at me.

Just when I had lost all hope for an invite, he cleared his throat and said.

"You should come by my house some time, here is my address. We can have a proper interview then. Keep this a secret from Olivia!"

Definitely!

This part of the tea was forbidden, Olivia was certainly not going to sip this one.