Show & Sell: A Dark MFMM Romance

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Show & Sell: A Dark MFMM Romance Page 79

by Abby Angel


  Fuck it, I won't let anyone tell me not to be excited about that.

  Lizzie

  Ol' Hawky is smiling warmly as he steps out the back of his stretch Escalade limo and onto the mansion's winding driveway. I think that’s a good sign.

  He's wearing a pair of boot-cut acid wash jeans that would've been right at home at a mid-level department store in 1990, along with a denim jacket that has the exact same wash.

  What the actual fuck?

  Oh jeez, he’s leaning back into his limo to tell the driver something. I want to get this over with as fast as possible, even if it could be the most important meeting of my life. I have a plan.

  He slams the limo door and just stands there, smiling as the Escalade drives off.

  “Hello!”

  I try to get his attention, so he doesn’t just stand like a happy little plant in the fucking driveway all day. Hawk’s grin stays painted on his mug as he notices me and walks over. I extend a hand, and he takes it into a firm grip as soon as I’m within his reach. He’s still smiling, but his eyes are blank.

  “Do you remember me?”

  He obviously doesn’t. Jesus Christ, is he even smart enough to run this site? I guess it doesn’t matter if he takes a hands-off approach as long as he has the money to run it. Plus, his background is more fitting than Darcy’s.

  “How could I forget?”

  He’s so full of shit. That’s fine, at least he’s being polite this time.

  “I’m Lizzie. Ready to go inside?”

  “I was born ready.”

  Darcy is Mr. Big when he’s watching a cam girl show, but he’s Mr. Darcy when you meet him in person. Hawk Wickham is just Hawk no matter what. He can’t be anyone else. Odd for a performer, but it’s not like he’s known for his acting talent.

  “I take it you remember this area, Mr. Wickham.”

  He’s walking behind me and scanning everything with eager wonder as we enter the mansion.

  “Is Lydia around today?”

  “Lydia? I think she may be off today.”

  I feel like I’m talking to a horny, socially awkward patron of a strip club. I may be wasting my time on this idea.

  “You ladies sure have a nice place. One of the nicest I’ve seen. You deserve it for all the amazing work you do.”

  Okay, not so bad after all. Hawk is finally talking business. Thank fuck. Maybe he’s not as dumb as he looks. Maybe.

  “It doesn’t hurt, Mr. Wickham, but we are professionals here. The best in the industry is what you’re getting with the Bennet Babes.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice. I’ve had more fun jacking myself raw to some of those old show videos than I ever had getting sucked and fucked by some of the porn industry's foremost experts on fuckin’ and suckin’. Of course, I was being paid for that, but I don’t regret my big-ass credit card bill one bit. Goddamn, I feel like a teenage boy again. You should see all those empty tissue boxes...”

  “I'm glad you're enjoying our wares,” I say dryly. It’s totally lost on him. “You can see the very unique value of our company. I think it would be a bargain at any price, but I’m sure you can come up with a good deal.”

  I want so badly to get him on the hook for buying. He seems to understand what we’ve got through his —forgive the expression —first-hand experience. His enthusiasm should be wonderful for the site. Also, I’d have Darcy to myself, without those stupid ethics getting in the way.

  “I never got to see those rooms. Are they really here? I feel like a star-struck fan!”

  The Hawk’s tone has sure changed. Is he horny, in love, or both? I fucking hope he’s not in love with me, though.

  “Oh, the rooms are here, just a short walk away. Are you sure you’re ready, though? I wouldn’t want you to faint with excitement.”

  “I think I can control myself, girlie. But keep those smellin’ salts on hand just in case.”

  I barely keep my eyes from rolling right out of my head. “We’ve got a first aid kit in every room. Follow me, Mr. Hawk.”

  That’s the first time I’ve called him that. I have to be familiar, but not too much. I just need him on the hook for this purchase so my life can continue being wonderful. Hopefully even better now that I’ve met Darcy.

  He walks well behind me on the way to Charlie’s room. I glance around every few seconds to see him looking wide-eyed at everything except me. Phew. It’s not about me, that’s a start.

  I’m already in the middle of Charlie’s room by the time I hear him walk through the door behind me. I do a bit of sashay to turn and face him, trying to keep the mood playful and exciting.

  But now his smile is gone. This is one of the rooms, dude. What the fuck’s wrong with you? Sigh. Time to ramp up the charm.

  “What’s the matter, Hawky? Not what you expected?”

  “It’s…not. Whose room is this?”

  “Oh, come on. This is Charlie’s room. You don’t recognize it?”

  “Charlie. I didn’t see that part of the site. I guess it’s good to diversify.”

  This takes me a second.

  “Oh, no. Charlie’s one of our best cam women. You’d know her if you saw her.”

  “What about Lydia? Where’s her room?”

  Ah, and there it is.

  “That’s next.”

  He perks up in a new way. Before, he was like an excited child. Now, I can see the leering intensity in his eyes. Pretty sure I know where Hawk has been spending all his time on the site.

  Hey, everyone has a favorite. It's like visiting the set of your favorite TV show. For Hawk, Lydia’s room is like Carrie Bradshaw’s apartment, Central Perk from Friends and the Price is Right Plinko wheel all rolled into one. Also, who better to run the site than a fan who also understands the industry?

  Again, he follows me silently through the hall, trailing a few feet behind. This time, I swear I hear cheap denim being stretched, erected into a makeshift tent. Ugh. The Hawkster sure has a one-track mind.

  The second I open the door to Lydia’s space, he bolts in, then slides to a stop in the middle of the room. He just stands there, hands on his hips. Then he slowly rotates back towards me. The big smile is back.

  “Wow. I can’t believe I’m here!”

  Aw, he is excited. How cute. Nothing wrong with that, I guess. To each, his own, right? And he’s too caught up in his bubble of happiness to notice me, which is probably a good thing, too.

  “This is the magic space. Just unique on its own, really. No other place like it.”

  He just continues to take it all in. He’s taking a careful note of minor details of the room, staring at the walls, then the ceiling for some reason. I guess you can’t see the ceiling on camera.

  “Does she have a show today? Usually I get an email alert, but I haven’t checked in a while.”

  Fuck, now he’s getting a boner. This is a total fucking waste of time. Hopefully, I can get him out of here without getting the police involved. Or Catherine, if he’s really being a nuisance.

  “Not for a couple of days. I think she might be out of town. Do you want to see some other rooms?”

  I watch him dig what looks like an old flip phone out of his pocket. Um, okay then. I guess he has better things to spend his oodles of cash on than smartphones? He starts pointing it around the room. I hear camera snap sounds, one after another.

  “Wait a damn minute, baby. I just got here! I gotta get a few snaps, some memories.”

  If this is for his own personal spank bank, dude is even more obsessed with Lydia than I realized.

  “If you own the site, you can take photos of all the rooms. With a real camera, if you’d like. We have those.”

  He closes his dinosaur phone and looks at me for the first time since the tour started. Okay, here we go.

  “What d’ya want, for me to get an iPhone? Or one of those robot phones or whatever the fuck they’re called?”

  “An Android.”

  He looks genuinely hurt.

>   “Hey, I knew that. I just like to have my own style. We can’t all be Will Darcy.”

  Huh. That’s the fucking truth.

  “Funny you should mention that. Mr. Darcy is our top bidder right now.”

  His jaw tightens and he’ squeezes his poor flip phone hard. I think it might break. His jeans crotch is now completely flat.

  “He doesn’t hang out around here, does he?”

  “Oh, Mr. Darcy is here all the time,” I exaggerate. He’s very popular with all of us.”

  Hawk drops his phone on the carpet. He waits a moment before picking it up and pocketing it with resignation.

  “Everyone likes him here?”

  “Oh, absolutely. Everyone everywhere loves him. He’s so successful.”

  Hawk’s hangdog expression dissipates.

  “That’s what he thinks. The days of me just letting Will Darcy win are over!”

  I’ll give this to him: the man sure knows how to storm out of a room. He doesn’t need me to show him out, he’s a man on a mission.

  I feel like giving myself a high-five. The future of Bennet Babes and my future with Darcy are taken care of. I should teach a class on this shit.

  Fuck, now I hear boots clunking slowly back towards Lydia's room. What is it now? I realize I'm smiling a bit as I turn around to see what the hell he wants. Hawk is standing outside the door, trying to hand me his open phone.

  "Before I go, could you type in Lydia's number?"

  Darcy

  “Come on in, Darcy,” Jane says.

  Today’s the day I provide my bid to the owner. Ordinarily, this would be the type of thing I would send Chuck to take care of. It’s just going over numbers and paperwork, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see Lizzie again.

  When I told him I wanted to handle the negotiations myself, I could tell he was smirking over the phone. He knows why I’m fucking here.

  I thank Jane and catch a quick glimpse of her cleavage. Her tits look bigger than Lizzie’s. Under normal circumstances, I would have tried to take her into a back room and fuck her. I bet she’d let me, too.

  She obviously saw me look at her tits. It’s not like I was subtle about it. And all she did was giggle. She wouldn’t make me work for it, not in the same way Lizzie would.

  Besides, Chuck would kill me if he found out I fucked his favorite Bennet babe.

  I know where I can find the owner, but instead of going directly there, I walk around the building for a little bit. After some searching, I find Lizzie in the living room, reading a book. The doorway is positioned behind her, so she doesn’t realize I’m there at first.

  “Taking a break, are we?”

  Lizzie turns around. She doesn’t greet me with a smile the same way Jane did.

  “Oh, you’re here.” She immediately turns back around and goes back to reading her book.

  I come around to the front side of the couch. Lizzie is wearing a low-cut dress that barely goes down to her thighs. In fact, I can just make out the side of her ass. And by the looks of it, she’s not wearing any panties.

  Hell fucking yes.

  “So, what brings you around here again?” she asks.

  “If you just came for me to suck your cock again, you’d be better off finding a prostitute to take care of that for you.”

  I’m able to make out the title of the book she’s reading. The History of Sexuality by Michel Foucault.

  “That’s not why I’m here. Besides, you don’t seem like the kind of girl to just drop on her knees at a moment’s notice. I actually wanted to see if you would join me for dinner sometime,” I say.

  Lizzie doesn’t respond at first. It’s a good move. She’s waiting to see if I’ll panic and try to retract my request. Solid power move. I don’t say anything else. We simply stare into each other’s eyes. It takes all my willpower not to dart my eyes toward her tits.

  “Okay, sounds good,” she says. She picks up her book again and goes back to reading.

  “I’ll text you the details,” I say.

  I head out of the living room, making sure not to overstay my welcome by trying to figure out all the details right then and there. I open the front door, and that’s when I hear a voice.

  “That was a quick meeting,” Jane says from behind me. “Did you already meet with the owner?”

  “Right, the owner.” I begin to remember why I actually came to this mansion in the first place. I head upstairs to take care of the actual business so I can get the fuck out of there before Lizzie sees just how much her acceptance of my offer for dinner pleases me.

  Later that evening, I set out to meet Lizzie.

  I pour her and myself a glass of wine each. Lizzie’s certainly not a cheap date. She insists we get the most expensive bottle of wine Giorgino’s could offer. And of course, I’m happy to oblige.

  It’s always a fun game to see how much I need to spend to get a woman to sleep with me. Some women need to really be wined and dined before they’re willing to let their panties drop. I bet there are some women who would be willing to suck my cock for some fast food chicken nuggets and fries.

  But this woman has incredibly expensive tastes, it seems.

  “You seem to be spending a lot of money on a girl who isn’t going to fuck you tonight,” Lizzie says.

  “We’ll see about that,” I reply. “Perhaps by the end of this meal, you’ll be so enraptured by me, your only coherent thought will be to grab my cock.”

  “Is that what most women want to do to you after the first date?”

  “Is this a first date? I feel like our first meeting could count as a date.”

  “That was a meeting. We were talking business.”

  “Talking is not what I remember your mouth doing.”

  She smiles. The first time I think I’ve seen her genuinely do so. No tease, no smartass-ing. I can tell just by looking at her that she wants to fuck me. She has the same impulse I do. I think if we were both simply willing to indulge in our fantasies, we wouldn’t even be at dinner now. We’d be in one of our bedrooms fucking each other’s brains out.

  The waiter brings our food out, but I have no interest in the $100 lobster meal I ordered. I’d rather be eating out Lizzie’s pussy right now.

  She, on the other hand, has no problem digging right into the food. She’s not going to let me fuck her without a little chase first. That’s all right with me. I don’t mind going on the hunt once in a while.

  “So tell me, what made you interested in my cam show? After all, Jane has bigger tits than me. Most of the mansion’s traffic goes to her.”

  Not true. I’ve seen the financials.

  I take a sip of my wine and tell her.

  “There’s something different about you. There are all these men, trying to get you to show your naked body, and you just aren’t giving it to them without making them work for it. You know what you’re worth, and I appreciate that in a woman. Too many girls sell themselves short and settle for a man who doesn’t appreciate them for who they truly are.”

  “Plus, you wanted to see my tits, huh?” she asks.

  “That was certainly another component,” I admit.

  “I bet you wished I was right in front of you that moment. You wanted to slide your hand in my pussy while you caressed my tits with the other hand, is that it?”

  She doesn’t even lower her voice, and this restaurant is packed. She’s clearly not afraid of letting anyone and everyone know she wants to fuck. It turns me on.

  ““I told you exactly what I wanted to slide where,” I remind her. “You have no idea the other things I want to do to you.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’d rather show you than tell.”

  “Just tell me this. Would you fuck me until I came, or would you wimp out halfway through once you came yourself?”

  “Oh, I’d be willing to work all night to make sure you cum. That’s a promise you can take to the bank.”

  “It takes a lot to make me cum.”

/>   “Well then, I guess, we have a lot of positions to try to see what does the trick.”

  I notice an elderly man at the next table looking in shock at the two of us. I don’t care. Let him listen. I bet this is the first time in years he’s able to get a hard-on.

  All I know is that I have a rock-hard dick and I’m sitting at a table with a beautiful girl with the perfect tits for coming on. I’m in heaven right now.

  You ready to get nasty? Come on, let’s do this.

  Lizzie

  I could get used to this. There’s that old thought again. You tired of hearing me say it yet?

  But it’s true. I’m not normally impressed by such splendor, but every once in a while, I’m reminded about the comforts I get to enjoy. Like stepping in a posh car.

  No longer is a car just a way to get between places, with everything else about it being useless bullshit. No, a luxury vehicle makes the entire damn ride feel so smooth and cozy. A cocoon of extravagant hominess that magically transports me everywhere.

  I realize I’m slumped halfway down the seat as I stare at Darcy, who’s staring out the window with that electric gaze. No view is safe with that stare trained on it.

  “Do you dine like that every night?”

  I don’t think Darcy does, but I just want to keep pulling back layers.

  He takes his eyes off the view for less than a second. He flashes me that look, and he seems to be half-laughing. I’m learning he loves fucking with me like this.

  “Is that what you would want?”

  Darcy’s already back to looking out the window as he asks this. I don’t know what the answer is. But I’m still thinking that I could get used to this. I realize my entire life could revolve around fancy-ass wining and dining.

  I want to learn every frigging thing about it. I want to visit every Michelin star restaurant in the world. I want to see lovingly plated tasting courses set before me so I can take in the aesthetics before I take in the calories.

  “I could get used to it.”

  This is my first time using that line with Darcy. I think it’s a good moment for it.

 

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