LOVE'S GAME (BWWM)

3||NICO

"Can you explain yourself, Lorenzo? Why on earth would you let a negro enter my home?" I voiced my anger at him.

"My apologies, sir, but the decision wasn't mine. If I had any say in the matter, I would've prevented her from coming," he interjected.

"Interrupt me again and you're out of a job," I threatened, pacing across the floor of my room.

"Sir, I beg you to reconsider. I need this job. She was sent over from the UEFA headquarters. I had no control over it. Each volunteer received their assignment, and by some unfortunate twist of fate, she was sent here, to your place," he retorted, his last word dripping with sarcasm.

"Are you finding this amusing, eh, Hijo de puta?" I glared at him, my face a mask of fury.

"Lo siento, señor (I'm sorry, sir)," he responded, his head lowered in submission.

"Apologies won't rectify the situation. I want her out immediately. Make it happen," I commanded, my tone harsh.

"I will, sir, but it's going to take some time. We don't want her running to them claiming this has anything to do with, um..." he trailed off, avoiding my gaze.

"Get to the point," I ordered.

"If they inquire why you sent her away, what will your response be, sir? Accusations of prejudice due to her skin color? That would be, um... racist," he ended his sentence reluctantly.

He was correct. I couldn't just discard her without a second thought. I needed to consult with Coach Manuel to devise a strategy.

"Oh Dios (Oh God), what a mess," I grumbled, gazing out at the cityscape from my two-story penthouse.

Regrettably, I had no option but to tolerate this predicament for the time being.

"Alright," I conceded after a while. "Guide her through her duties, help her get accustomed," I finally instructed Lorenzo, who nodded and disappeared hastily.

The stress was beginning to take its toll. First, it was the incessant tabloids and now I had an outsider under my roof. My day was thoroughly spoiled.

Exhausted, I collapsed onto my bed, shutting my eyes to steal a quick nap. I had a party to attend later in the evening, so a brief rest was needed.

For a while, at least, I could escape the harsh reality that was staring me in the face.

After what seemed like five hours, I got up and went straight to take a shower. It was already seven in the evening, and I had to leave for the party by nine. I swiftly dialed Lorenzo's number.

"Good evening, sir. How may I assist you?" his voice came through the phone.

"Inform my driver and security team that I'll be leaving by nine. I'm attending a party at Pacha nightclub later tonight," I said, rather nonchalantly.

"Yes, sir. I'll ensure everything is in order," he replied.

A thought crossed my mind to ask him about the new chef, but I dismissed it. I simply didn't care.

All I needed was a distraction, and that was what I planned to find tonight. I headed to the bathroom with a smirk on my face, anticipating the night ahead.

After bathing and getting dressed, I descended the stairs to my living room. Lorenzo was already at the entrance, flanked by four of my bodyguards.

"Buenas noches, jefe" (Good evening, boss), they greeted me.

"Noche," I responded, flicking my fingers in acknowledgement. My other hand instinctively searched for a glimpse of my new cook, but she was nowhere in sight.

I would be damned if I asked about her

Tick Tock, Tick Tock

Guess I was damned

"Where is she?" I inquired, a frown etching deeply into my features as I addressed Lorenzo.

"I introduced her to the place and left her in her room—one of the guest rooms upstairs. She is scheduled to start work tomorrow," he responded.

"Hmmm," I nodded, signaling my understanding. "Alright, let's move. We can't afford to be late," I added, shifting our focus to the task at hand.

"Sanchez called while you were asleep," Lorenzo began, clearing his throat before lowering his voice to a near whisper. "He wanted to know...how many ladies you would be needing tonight, sir."

"Five," I ordered, my voice unequivocal. "Ensure he gets the message before I arrive at the party." With that command, I strode out, my bodyguards forming a silent procession behind me.

"Yes, sir," Lorenzo's voice echoed behind me.

Tonight promised to be liberating, a much-needed release from the pent-up pressure.

With that thought in mind, I climbed into my sleek Jaguar XJ.

***

"Oh yes Nico, moreeee ahhhh" the blonde's moans filled the air as I pounded her pussy.

She was on all fours on my bed, her hands were gripping the sheets and her head was thrown back in pleasure. Her breasts bounced up and down with each thrust of my cock into her loosed little cunt.

As I closed my eyes, images of my new chef found their way to my mind. I wondered how it would feel like pounding that pink cunt with my dick.

Gosh, I shouldn't think about her, I hated her kind.

I could feel my balls tightening up as I neared climax.

Damn you negro

I pulled out of the blonde's pussy and quickly moved up to straddle her face. She eagerly opened her mouth and took my throbbing cock in.

I grabbed a fistful of her hair and began fucking her mouth as I fucked her pussy. She sucked on my cock like a pro, her tongue swirling around the shaft.

"You're a good whore" I said harshly.
"Anything for you Nico" she replied with a seductive grin.

Sanchez was right when he said the blonde was a pro at fucking but I wasn't just feeling good like I thought I would. I only felt myself reaching climax when I thought of that damned negro with an ass that could make any man go crazy.

"Fuck" I said in between breath as I pulled out of the blonde's mouth and let my load shoot over her artificial tits.
"Oooh naughty man" she said as she licked her lips clean.

I rose swiftly, making my way towards the bathroom for a refreshing shower. As I stared into the mirror, memories of the party came flooding back.

The soirée had kicked off smoothly, and by midnight, I had already singled out a blonde from the five women presented to me. I had then discreetly taken her to my private hotel room, away from the prying eyes of the paparazzi. The last thing I wanted was my photos splashed across tabloids by morning.

I sighed, fishing out my cell phone from the pocket of my jeans to dial Lorenzo.

"Hello, send the car. I'll be downstairs in ten minutes," I commanded.

"Oh, well of co-" I cut him off, ending the call. Lorenzo had a tendency to ramble, which could be quite irritating at times.

Stepping into the cascade of the running shower, my thoughts were dominated by the need to get home on time, to be ready for midnight training. The last thing I needed was to have coach Manuel coming after me.