by Abby Angel
He pulls out just enough for me to get a nice, hard suck on his cockhead and a quick breath of air. Then it’s halfway, slamming into the back of my throat.
The next thrust feeds me three inches more. With nowhere to go but down, he takes my throat. It feels so fucking good that I moan involuntarily. The vibrations rattle up and down the length of his shaft, and right on cue, he gives me more. And more. And more.
My whole body is on high alert. I totally can’t breathe, but I’m like, so in love with it. He’s pounding away at my mouth, slamming into me so hard and fast I can’t even see straight.
All I can think is how I’ve been fantasizing about this moment since he first popped into my chat room. How I haven’t been able to get him out of my head for three fucking days, and now he’s literally inside me, using my mouth like I’m just another escort whore.
But then he pulls my head back, and from the way he’s staring down at me, I can tell that one thing has changed. He looks out of control. Totally unhinged.
Both of our chests are heaving. It feels like if one of us was to make the slightest movement towards the bed, he’d have my legs wrapped around his hips in an instant while he plows me like a highway in Canadian winter.
There’s a long string of saliva running from my lips to his huge, throbbing dick. I slurp it back up noisily as I swallow his cock again with renewed energy.
Because I’ve got him.
Because I know, no matter if Darcy has more money than any one man has any right having, I’ve finally given him something he can’t pay for.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “Fuck! God, Lizzie, give it to me. Fuck yes!”
I hum a garbled string of pleasure noises as I bob my head up and down, taking all of him in my mouth like I was goddamn born for this.
“Mmm—fuck, Lizzie. I’m so close…if you keep that up, I’m going to come—I’m going to—”
And that, dear reader—that, of all times, was when disaster struck.
“Lizzie?!” I hear a voice bellow from downstairs.
You can say what you like about Catherine the Great, but her timing is nothing if not impeccable.
I can feel Darcy stiffen at the sound.
“Lizzie…” he rasps.
I plunge my mouth back down on him again. I’m not stopping. No. Absolutely not. I’ve earned this cock, and I’m taking it.
It was Darcy’s dumb idea to leave the door unlocked in the first place. He’s not getting out of this now.
“LIZZIE!” Catherine screeches again.
“Lizzie,” Darcy echoes, gasping.
“LIZZIEEEEE!”
“Oh, fuck—Lizzie!”
He explodes on my tongue, coating my entire mouth with delicious, creamy cum. Either he’s been holding it in for a few days, or he just produces insane amounts of it on demand, because my mouth is full of it. I have to pull my head back and release his cock from my lips just to keep it all in.
As Darcy stares down at me, with some insane mixture of disbelief and admiration that I can’t imagine a man like him feels very often, I swallow it all with a smile.
We barely have our clothes back on by the time Catherine bursts in. There’s suspicion in her eyes as her gaze passes over us—but since she can’t tell that my bra is still unclasped beneath my tank top nor that Darcy’s fly is still undone, she doesn’t have a leg to stand on.
“Well, Mr. Darcy,” she asks. “Have you seen everything you need to see?”
Darcy licks his lips and looks over at me. He’s still obviously basking in a delicious afterglow. I’m just desperately trying not to laugh.
“Ah…yes, actually,” Darcy tells her. “Yes, I do believe I have.”
Darcy
“So, are we still good to go on this Bennet Babe acquisition?”
My lawyer, Chuck, proceeds to tell me a bunch of legal jargon about all the odds and ends of such a deal. I’m only half paying attention to what he has to say. I can’t take my mind off Lizzie.
I have a mental image seared into my brain of Lizzie’s mouth wrapped around my hard cock. I’ve never been with anyone who really knows how to use her tongue. It takes me a couple seconds to realize Chuck is waiting on me for a response.
“Yeah, we’re all good to go,” I say, not entirely sure if that’s a good response for whatever question he just asked.
“How was your tour? Must’ve been something to actually be inside the mansion where it all happens,” Chuck says. There’s something different about the way he asks this. He leans in a bit closer as though he really wants to know what I thought of my experience.
Chuck Bing is a good friend of mine. He’s an excellent lawyer. He knows his way around a courtroom no matter what the case may be. He naturally helps me with these types of business ventures, but he also does divorce cases on the side.
He has a bit of a reputation in his firm because he only represents women going through divorce disputes. And while he would never admit it, on account of it being unprofessional and all, apparently Chuck sleeps with all the women he represents. He always gets them good settlements, so it makes sense the women would be a bit appreciative.
“The mansion was great. There was one girl, Lizzie, you know who she is, right?”
Chuck nods his head in affirmation.
“She was amazing. Really business savvy girl. She could have a good future in this company if she works hard enough.”
“That’s all fine and well. How about the mansion itself? Does it seem structurally sound, or do we need to move the girls to a new location?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t really paying attention to the support beams. Lizzie insisted everything was fine with the mansion, so—”
“You seem awfully infatuated with this Lizzie girl,” Chuck interrupts. His eyebrow cocks upward.
I’ve known Chuck for too long to keep anything from him. I don’t mind though. I know I can trust him.
The only thing I can think about right now is seeing Lizzie again. My cock gets hard just thinking about her. And my first impulse isn’t to hire an escort to take care of it for me. I want to see Lizzie again. For longer this time, in a place where we can be alone and not be disturbed.
I want to be with her for hours, thrusting my cock in her mouth until she gags like last time. I need to fuck her.
“Lizzie made a real impression on me,” I say.
“Cut the shit,” Chuck replies. “You fucked her, didn’t you?”
“We had a quickie.”
Chuck begins putting paperwork back inside his briefcase. It’s clear the business portion of our meeting has ended. He obviously realizes it’s time for us to talk sex.
“Not bad,” Chuck says. “How was her pussy? From what I’ve seen on the live shows, she has a tight little thing down there.”
“Actually, we didn’t fuck completely,” I admit.
“Bullshit.”
“Serious. She gave me a blowjob, but something came up before we could really fuck.”
Chuck doesn’t press the matter any further. He knows I’d have no reason to lie to him. If I’d actually fucked her, I would tell him and anyone else who would listen.
“Well, if you want to close that deal completely, I recommend, as your lawyer, to do it before this deal closes,” Chuck says. “If you fuck, and then something happens, it’ll be a lot easier to deal with before you’re technically her boss.”
I stand up from my desk and look out the window. It’s a fantastic view of the city. I can’t help but think about all the girls I’ve fucked in this office.
Sometimes I’ll just have them blow me under the desk, like that escort the other day. Sometimes I’ll fuck them directly on my desk. There’s nothing hotter than bending a woman over and having her scream your name while you’re overlooking the city.
I wonder if a passing helicopter or some loner with a telescope has ever spied on me fucking in here. I wouldn’t mind in the slightest. I would hope watching me fuck a beautiful woman would be the highlight of a person’s
day.
“I know how to keep it professional,” I finally say.
“That’s one of the reasons I like working with you, Darcy,” Chuck responds. “You know to how to separate business from pleasure.”
“Can you really say the same thing?” I ask of him. Chuck smirks. He knows what I’m implying.
“I only have sex with the women I represent, after the divorce is finalized. At that point, we’re just two people in an office. She’s a grateful former client while I’m the guy who got her fifty grand a month in alimony. But once this deal closes, you’re working with Lizzie for the long haul. If you want to fuck her, do it now. And that’s my professional opinion.”
Chuck gets out of his seat, picking up his briefcase. He takes out his smartphone, looking at the time. He starts rushing toward the door as though he just remembered something important.
“Listen, I have to head out,” Chuck says. “Jane’s having her live show soon. She’s my favorite. Did you get a chance to meet her while you were at the mansion?”
“Briefly,” I say.
“You didn’t fuck her, did—”
“No, I didn’t.” But it certainly would have crossed my mind—if I hadn’t had a singular focus on Lizzie. I mean, hell, all the Bennet babes are insanely attractive.
I could die a happy man, to be in bed with all of them at the same time. One by one, they would all take turns hopping on my cock, riding it until they came. But after Lizzie sucked my cock, I’d be satisfied fucking her alone in a room, passionately and roughly.
Chuck leaves, seemingly satisfied with the progress of our meeting. I stare out the window again, unable to get Lizzie off my mind.
I think it over. But I know Chuck is right. I need to fuck her. I need to get her in this office, bend her over the table, and fuck her until I cum inside her. So I better start acting quickly. I need to do this before the deal is finalized.
At the moment, I still have a rock-hard cock. I take it out and start masturbating while looking out the window. I wonder if anyone can see me through it. If anyone is, I hope they fucking enjoy the view.
Lizzie
Does Lydia even notice how well the late afternoon sunlight plays off her amazing body? As she stares at herself blankly in the mirror, it's clear she doesn’t. Yeah, it's just a day at work, but we're all somewhere else.
As they get ready for their cam shows, Lydia and Jane are thinking about their future, while I'm simply floating in the beautiful haze enveloping my life.
Jane and Lydia share a look that tells me that there's swirling gossip about me. I can't have that, but the only way to stop it is the truth.
Just as I'm about to open my mouth and blab gleefully, Lydia suddenly interrupts her ritual to chip in her two cents about whatever she thinks is going on.
"Look, I can't blame ya, girl. I don't know what job you've got, but you're being smart. As we all need to be. Nothing's guaranteed in this business." Lydia goes right back to her lipstick. She's so misguided. I need to end this shit now.
"Do you guys actually think I'm leaving? I mean, I know I have some down time right now, but really?"
Lydia and Jane give each other that look again, but Jane is beginning to break a bit. She realizes how flimsy their premise is, but she's not ready to give up yet.
"Why do you seem so, you know, sure about everything? And now you're over-the-top happy for some reason. You're actually glowing."
"Why do you think I’d be glowing, Jane?"
The realization hits her right away. Lydia sees Jane's expression and finally turns away from the mirror. Jane’s trying to hold back an out-of-character laughing fit.
"Some fuckin' tour, huh? I guess you're a pretty good guide."
Lydia finally gets it, and she looks like she's about to keel over. This is the first time I've ever seen her grin like that: stunned and a bit giddy. Lydia busts out in peals of laughter, and this breaks Jane down into her own flood of giggles.
I feel the tension drain from me, and I start laughing myself. These moments are rare, but they feel fucking great.
Jane stops laughing as soon as she can, and I can tell that she's dying to say something snarky.
"Even for you, that's a good catch."
Damn. As much as I want to lob back a sharp retort, I can’t. She's right.
"Backhanded, much?"
That's just about as well as I can do. Jane ignores me. Now that the anxiety's drained from the room, she can go back to adjusting her glittery silver corset.
Let me just take a minute here and tell you about Jane. I don't care who the fuck you are, the first time you see Jane's signature costume you can't help but feel like you've stepped into some futuristic, sci-fi utopia where people are—on average—about a thousand times sexier. Guys are ready to cum all over their keyboards the second Jane appears onscreen, but she doesn't let her audience off that easy.
To watch one of Jane's cam shows is to take a captivating journey down a modern art-inspired rabbit hole that you can’t tear yourself away from until it's all over. With props like black lights, glow-in-the-dark body paint and Mylar balloons, Jane gives her fans an experience like nothing else online.
I look over at Lydia looking at herself in the mirror, inspecting her eyeshadow. Lydia won’t go on camera without carefully checking and rechecking every part of her makeup about a billion times. I think that she's done talking to me now that she's in serious prep mode.
That is, until she blurts out her take.
"I guess you found another job after all. Hope it pays well."
I don't even know what to say, so I keep my mouth shut for a second.
Lydia has no big gimmicks, just a crazy work ethic, and a face and body that has driven many of her fans literally insane. The type of insane that empties savings accounts and IRAs, penalties be damned. The type of insane that maxes out credit cards and applies for payday loans and second mortgages.
Logically, Lydia should be Darcy's favorite. But this isn't about logic.
"No pay, my dear. Just pure bliss."
"Good for you."
Lydia's response is immediate. I know she believes me. Why wouldn’t she?
"I'm happy with it so far. But it has to end soon, right? We can't stray from the rules, and Darcy knows what he's doing. I mean, in a business sense."
Shit, as soon as I start voicing my concerns, I get even more worried. This can't continue while Darcy's actually running the ship.
"Hey, it's fun now, right? When it's over, just choose any other dude in the world to fuck."
Jane's applying her own silvery makeup, and I know she’s trying to be as sweet as she can. But to me, it sounds fucking heartless. I try to explain things calmly.
"I don't want to fuck, or even talk, to any other dude. It’s not about that. There's…I don’t know. There's just something about Darcy. And I feel like I haven't even started. He's like a mystery with a million layers that I want to peel back one by one."
Jane and Lydia share yet another look. They're not suspicious this time. They seem a little amused and a more than a little sorry for me.
"Why don't you take this one, Lyds?"
Weird. That's the first time I've heard Jane use that nickname.
"Just have fun with him. You'll get over it soon, promise. But, look, we're running late."
Now Lydia sounds heartless. They're trying to help, but whatever. I'll have to figure this shit out on my own.
I watch Jane and Lydia leave the dressing room.
Are they really this jaded? Or am I that damn naïve? Wait, isn't Lydia off today? Now I'm really confused.
"Hey!"
Wow, I did not mean to yell that loud, but Lydia and Jane both stop dead in their tracks. Lydia looks around, Jane doesn't bother at first.
"Isn't this your day off, Lydia?"
Now Jane turns around, not to look at me but to look at Lydia. They share yet another fucking look. Lydia turns back to answer me
"I'm guesting in Jane's
show today."
Yeah, of course. I should be able to figure this stuff out by now. I'm ready for them to leave, but now it's Jane's turn to nag me about the same stuff she always does.
"I keep telling you, Lizzie. One girl-on-girl show can be like, a week of solo shows. Or more. And that's for each of us. Just give it a go sometime."
"You do keep telling me that. Well, alright. Break a leg, make that cash. Go get 'em, tigresses."
Now Catherine is hovering outside the door. I know they're running late, but Jane and Lydia just won't give up.
Lydia goes all earnest and tries to convince me.
"Even if we split three ways, the cash is still great. You know how well I do every time, right?"
"I appreciate your generosity, but we've been through this, Lydia. Remember? My rule?"
Lydia and Jane give each other one last look. This time with bright smiles. They both recite the rule to me in unison:
"No first times on camera!"
Damn, have I said it that many fucking times? I get a bit jumpy about Catherine lurking outside—she's about to get real impatient real fast. Luckily, they leave on that note, and they almost make it out the door before something makes Jane put the brakes on to call out to me from across the room.
"If this whole Darcy fling goes bust, you know where to find me."
I look at Catherine, and she's now staring straight at me. Fuck.
With Lydia and Jane gone, Catherine takes a few controlled, very unhappy steps into the room. She doesn’t break her gaze.
Goddammit, Jane. You couldn't resist saying one last thing to me, could you?
"Are you a Bennet Babe?" Catherine knows how to be scary, even with a simple question.
"Yeah. I am."
"Then why are you sleeping with Mr. Darcy? You know the policy about any men affiliated with the site."
"Is Mr. Darcy affiliated with the site?"
I expect her to go full blast at me for that, but she just lets a little sigh.
"You better enjoy this little Darcy dalliance while you can."
I see a flash of pity in Catherine's eyes, then she's gone, out the door in a flash.
Why is everybody so adamant about this stuff? Nobody doubts Darcy's competence, and I'm as excited about his potential for the site as anyone. But what about his potential for my life?
