Billionaires and Black BBWs: Billionaires and Black BBWs, #1

By Topaz Knight

Shonda is a beautiful Black BBW who is also an incurable romantic. When oil rich billionaire George walks into her plus sized lingerie boutique to shop for a friend, a steamy affair begins when they discover their shared passion for public sex.  With her heart always on her sleeve, Shonda quickly begins to fall for George only to be taken by surprise on the day that his fiancee walks into her store, telling Shonda to stay away from George.

Please note that this is an EROTIC SHORT STORY. It's 35 pages long.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Topaz Knight
• Release date: Nov 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9781501435348

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Billionaires and Black BBWS

by Topaz Knight

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Text Copyright © 2014 by Topaz Knight

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Shonda, you looking kinda big here on these Insta grammy photos.

What!? Mom when did you get on Instagram? How did you even find me on there?"

What, you think cause I live out in the woods and I’m in my 70s that I don’t know what the kids are up to on the Internet?

Shaking my head in exasperation, and at a loss for words, I just stared at my mother over FaceTime, taking in her wild silver curls and red lips.

Girl, you already extra curvy, you need to watch that figure, plus you still single. But you’re young enough to pull some of it off you, if you just get it together, scolded my mother, rambling off, as always, about my weight.

Not even in the mood to get into it, I quickly got off the phone. Mom, I gotta go. I’ve got to get the store set up for the day. Chat ya later.

Yeah, okay.

I threw the phone down in disgust and looked at myself in the long mirror in the back office. I was rocking a pair of ‘skinny’ black jeans that looked like they were painted on my ample frame, grey-suede stiletto ankle-booties and a matching cropped sweater that featured a plunging neckline that made the most of my 38DDD bustline and baby-pink lace bra. My mop of wild afro curls were wrapped up high in a bright orange bandana with just the right amount of flirty curls falling forward into my cocoa-colored face. And just that morning, two men — idiots really — had cat-called to me as I was bent over, lifting up the gate to the store.

Turning around to admire my big butt, I winked at my own reflection. Whatever. I looked good.

Unlike my mother, I wasn’t in a rush to get myself married off. I was waiting for Mr. Right, though I did dabble every now and then with Mr. Right Now.

Hey, a girl has her needs.

Hearing the soft chime of the bells that announced a visitor to the boutique, I sashayed out of the office and into the front of the store.

A tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a well-tailored suit stood in the middle of the