Show & Sell: A Dark MFMM Romance

by Abby Angel

  He has me up against the wall. Bent over the sink. Perched on the edge of the bathtub.

  All so fast and so close to orgasm that I can't think straight. Fucking Darcy is apparently just like that: sometimes, it's a blur—but God. What a gorgeous blur it is.

  At some point, while I'm humping his hand like a bitch in heat and begging for him to make me cum, Darcy turns on the shower. The bathroom fills with steam so thick, you could slice off a piece and have it for dinner.

  It fogs up the mirror, until Darcy shoves me against it and reaches between my legs to finger me from behind.

  "Oh, fuck!" I curse. "God, Darcy—please. Pleeeeeease. I want to come for you, please let me! Let me come—let me come!"

  Darcy pulls me away from the mirror by my throat. Now, the imprint of my body is there on the mirror for a few seconds before it fills in with fog again.

  I can see both of my tits, huge and round where they were pressed hard against the reflective surface. My handprints. The open O of my moaning mouth.

  "You're a perfect slut, Lizzie," Darcy breathes against my ear. He pulls me against him harder. His big, meaty manhood is harder than I've ever felt it as it presses between my ass cheeks. "You'll come again. And again. As many times as I make you. But first..."

  He forces his cock into the valley of my ass and presses his cockhead against the pucker of my asshole.

  "I thought we were keeping it clean," I hiss in surprised delight.

  "I thought you liked me dirty," Darcy sneers, twisting my words and using them against me.

  It works. It so fucking works.

  "Your cum. Lube," I say, pushing my ass out.

  Darcy's cock slips between my pussy lips, which coat him in his slick, pearly cum. Daringly, I rock back even further so I can slide my clit against his cock too. I don't know how I can have orgasmed this many times and still be needing more.

  The answer is probably just Darcy. Darcy does this to me. Darcy does things to me that I didn't even think were possible.

  Turning into total whore so desperate for orgasms she has to resort to grinding her pussy against his dick is just one of them.

  "Bad slut," Darcy says. He swats my ass with a dark, cruel. but sexy laugh. "You can come again when I have my dick in your ass."

  "Will it even fit?" Darcy is hung, after all. Like, so hung that if word got out to the rest of the male population, they'd all develop complexes. I don't even want to know how the female population would react if they only knew.

  "I'll make it fit."

  He pushes me into the shower. I stumble in, excited... and just the right amount of scared. My back slams against the jet black tiles as I watch Darcy coming towards me, his cock in hand.

  Darcy has one of those Better Homes and Gardens Magazine showers that only fabulously wealthy would ever bother having installed. It doesn't have a showerhead or anything. Instead, it's like we're standing in the most delicious, steaming hot rain shower.

  The water pours down on us from overhead. I can feel the warmth of the water all the way to my bones. The chill I got from the freezer has vanished entirely now, and everything is hot, hot, hot.

  Especially Darcy's lips as they conquer mine.

  He turns me around after we make out for a few perfect moments. It only gets better from there. My hard nipples slide against the steamy tile as Darcy's hands smooth over my shoulders and my waist. His mouth claims my neck next. And all the while, his cock is pressing against my ass. Hard. A promise that he has every intention of keeping.

  "Beg for it, Lizzie," Darcy says, grabbing my ass cheeks. He spreads them, then kneels. I can feel his mouth just inches from the tightness of my asshole.

  "P-please," I stutter. I'm already grinding my hips against the tiled wall, desperate for more sensation. I'd use my fingers if I didn't think he would spank me for it.

  "Please what?"

  "Please...kiss my tight little pucker, Darcy. Lick it. Stick your tongue inside me! Lick me, lube me up!"

  "Then what?"

  "Fuck my ass! Fuck it like you mean it, Darcy. I want to take all of you. Sodomize me like the fucking slut I am!"

  Darcy's lips press against my asshole before I have to find the words to beg him harder. He buries his face in my tight, firm ass and licks it like a man starved. I can feel him getting me nice and wet with his tongue. So wet that he'll slip right in.

  But it's not just preparation for a good, hard ass-fucking from Mr. Big's 12-inch man meat. It feels good. Amazing, even.

  It's not like when Darcy licks my pussy. He's not driving me to orgasm...quite yet. But with every lick, my clit throbs harder. There's something bad and wrong about Darcy making out with my ass, and it's making me fucking cream.

  He wasn't kidding about staying dirty. Like, at all.

  "Spread yourself for me, Lizzie," Darcy says.

  Just as I'm about to beg him to rub my clit again, he reaches around me and pinches my clit hard between his fingers. I gasp.

  Anything he wants, I'm ready to give him.

  Naked cartwheels? Bulgarian folk songs? Epic poetry about how bad I want his dick? You've got it, Darcy, baby. Right away, sir!

  I reach behind my back and take my ass cheeks in my hands, spreading them apart for Darcy's pleasure.

  And for my own.

  Darcy grinds his cock against my ass until I'm whimpering. Pathetically. Like one of those little Paris Hilton purse chihuahuas with separation anxiety.

  I need this cock. In my ass. Like, immediately.

  But Will Darcy is a fucking tease, and when he won't give it to me, I decide to take it for myself.

  I thrust my ass back hard against Darcy's huge fucking dick.

  I moan. He moans. We moan together as his cock sinks into my ass.

  The tightest hole that I have for him. My throat is excellent for fucking, and Darcy feels incredibly right when he's in my pussy. But now, while he forces his cum-soaked cock into the tightness of my asshole, we're both loving it in ways that I can't totally explain.

  "Fuck, Lizzie. So tight. So fucking--"

  "Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod," I say back.

  Yeah. We've both been reduced to sentence fragments and un-words.

  I've said before that Darcy is big—he's thick. His dick could probably be classified as an automatic weapon. It may or may not be legal in several states. Yadda yadda.

  But when it's halfway to hilted in my ass? Oh, fuck. It's never felt bigger. I can feel myself stretching around him, struggling to accommodate so much glorious, perfect, sexy man meat.

  Every now and then, Darcy slows to a stop and withdraws. That's when I get the feeling that like, fuck. There's actually such a thing as too big and Darcy is It.

  Capital I-cross-the-t. Not just Mr. Big, but Mr. Too Big.

  I hump dildos for a living, for fuck’s sake. There should not be such a thing.

  But I believe in myself—and more importantly, Darcy believes in my ass.

  "Come on, baby," he encourages me, stroking my clit like he's petting me to a soothing climax. "Take me, Lizze. Swallow me up with this gorgeous ass of yours."

  Like, fuck. How can I say no to that? The deeper Darcy gets, the better it feels. Compounded with the pangs of pleasure I'm getting from Darcy's fingers, I'm about to have the most complex, beautiful, intense orgasm of my life.

  He pushes deeper.

  He fucking moans. I fucking moan. We all fucking moan.

  It's so goddamn good.

  I imagine that me taking Darcy's cock in my ass like this is the sexual equivalent of squeezing into a perfectly fitted corset laced tight. Being hugged all around. Squeezed up.

  From the way Darcy's hips are moving behind me, I know he only has a couple of inches left before he's balls deep in my ass. And I'm only a few strokes away from orgasm myself.

  Desperately, I start to rock my hips back against his. Inching myself closer and closer towards our goal.

  "Oh, fuck, Lizzie," Darcy moans.

  "That's right,
" I moan back. "Give it to me, Darcy. Your whole fucking cock!"

  "Take it," he growls through his teeth. "Fucking take my cock, Lizzie!"

  He traps my clit between his fingers, rubbing harder and faster, and that does it for me. My whole body spasms. My eyes roll back.

  And just like that, I end up fucking myself on those last few inches of him, until I can feel Darcy deep in my belly, stroking me in a g-spot that I didn't even know I had.

  "FUCK!" I scream in ecstasy. "YES! YES! YES!"

  Darcy is a yes. Darcy's dick is a yes. Darcy fucking my ass like a man totally unhinged is a huge. Fucking. Yes.

  His hips slamming against my ass.

  "YES!"

  His fingers probing my cunt, the water soaking our bodies, steam all around.

  "YES!"

  His teeth on my neck, sinking into my flesh like I'm a ripe fucking peach.

  "YES! YES! YES!"

  "YES!" Darcy echoes. "GOD YES, LIZZIE! FUCK YES!"

  I can barely keep track of which one of us is yelling which affirmatives as Darcy's balls tense up and his cock twitches inside me, coating my ass with more cum than I thought possible. Earlier, I thought I'd drained him of every drop.

  But Darcy is all man. Apparently, he has cum to spare.

  "Yes," I whine. My voice sounds small. Exhausted. A little bit in disbelief of how well I've just been fucked. "Yes...yessss...yes..."

  "Shhhh," Darcy says as his arms wrap around me. "You're okay, babe. I've got you."

  "I'm m-more than okay," I stutter, leaning back against him. His cock slips out of my ass as it softens. I think about bending down to suck it clean, but I can barely even see straight.

  That was hands down the best fuck of my life.

  And it was Darcy. All Darcy.

  Fuck. Wow.

  "I don't know, honey." Darcy's hands pet my body. My skin is slick with beads of warm water and sweat. "You seem a little out of it."

  "I'm just, uh..." I laugh, trying to figure out how to explain this to Darcy in a way he can understand. "A little cum-stupid."

  "Hmm. Let me see if I can fix that, then."

  Darcy holds me steady as he drops to his knees once more. This time, when he tongues my ass, it's full of his cum. I coo and sigh at the sensation of it.

  His hot cum. His probing tongue. The water. The steam.

  His big, strong hands on my skin.

  When Darcy straightens again, he turns my head to the side and kisses me from behind, squeezing my tits and making me feel like the most ridiculously pampered woman in the universe.

  I taste salt and sweetness and delicious, cummy cream as Darcy presses his tongue between my lips and passes a perfect mouthful of his cum directly onto my tongue.

  "Better?"

  "Mmm. Better," I agree.

  I smile, swallow, and relax against him, just enjoying this moment.

  While it lasts.

  Darcy

  My hands caress Lizzie’s beautiful tits. Having her in my bed is a dream come true in many ways. She’s already ravished me in so many ways, but all I want to do is to get on top of her and fuck her for another hour. As much fun as we’ve had, I know there was another reason I wanted her to come to my penthouse today.

  I hate ruining such a perfect moment with work, but it has to be done.

  “You know, if I buy the company, we won’t be able to do this anymore,” I say. Because I sure as shit haven’t given the game over to fucking Hawk yet.

  “I know,” she replies, “Everyone knows you don’t mix business with pleasure. You’d ruin your reputation otherwise.”

  I want so badly to tell her that I don’t think I can give her up. I want every night to be like this. I want for both of us to fulfill both of our carnal pleasures.

  I want to fill every orifice of hers with my hard cock, and then afterward, I want for us to relax in bed, just like this.

  I’m tired of fucking escorts all the time. I want someone like Lizzie. Someone who understands my body and needs perfectly and who isn’t afraid to do whatever is necessary to leave me completely satisfied.

  And I have to say, I also get some pleasure in satisfying her, too. With escorts, I just want to cum inside them and leave. With Lizzie, I want to try so many positions. I want to get so many toys to try out.

  Lizzie and I have only started to scratch the surface of how we can please one another, and I don’t want it to end.

  I’d love to tell Lizzie all this, but at the end of the day, this is technically a business meeting. I need to keep it professional. That’s why I slowly move my hand down her stomach, across her thigh and on her wet pussy. She turns around, so her back is now facing me.

  “I’ll never understand how you can go from talking business to wanting to fuck in three seconds flat,” she says.

  “What can I say? I’m a multitasker.” I know for an absolute fact Lizzie wants to fuck again, but she’s keeping her cards close to her chest. Perhaps she’s preventing herself from getting too close to me so that if I end up with the Bennet Babes, she doesn’t feel compelled to fuck me all the time.

  “What would be so wrong with dating your boss?” I ask. I already know the answer, but Lizzie wastes no time telling me.

  “Part of your appeal and part of the reason so many companies want to do business with you is that you are a professional. There are numerous businesses these days run by assholes who want to fuck first and do business second. If you like fucking on your own time, that’s fine, but you don’t mix the two.

  “You treat all your female employees with respect, and I can’t tell you how much of a breath of fresh air that is. If you start hitting on and fucking the women who work for you, then there’s a big chance people will want to stop working for you. If you start fucking too many girls, then you really only fuck yourself.”

  Have I said how much I adore Lizzie? A perfectly articulate response. This girl is smart, and that’s why I don’t think I can give her up.

  But she’s right. If word gets out I’m fucking one of the Bennet Babes—and trust me when I say word will definitely get out—then I’ve completely fuck myself. I can’t jeopardize my business just to get my cock wet with Lizzie from time to time.

  Lizzie rolls over in the bed, resting her head on my chest. I put my arm around her shoulder to where my hand rests on her stomach. I don’t grab her tit even though I have easy access to it. I don’t even reach for her pussy to try to get her to fuck me again.

  We simply lie there in silence. And honestly? It’s nice.

  It’s calm and quiet. Even though my cock is hard since she’s pressing her tits against my stomach, I don’t feel the need to fuck her in this very moment. I mean, I wouldn’t say “no” if she asked me to fuck right now, but I feel content without it.

  And that’s when I start thinking about that thing Chuck told me a while ago.

  He said that Lizzie’s job is to be the perfect woman. She’s supposed to say all the right things. She’s supposed to do whatever she can to make guys’ cocks hard.

  What if she’s doing precisely that to me?

  I hate the thought the beautiful woman lying on me is capable of such deceit, but shittier things have happened.

  “What if we could keep it a secret?” I ask. “If I end up owning Bennet Babes, we could work out a system where we see each other at specific times in discreet locations. No one would ever have to know.”

  Lizzie raises her head off my chest and stares at me inquisitively. “I don’t think that would be possible,” she says. “Everyone has a fucking cell phone these days. Besides, it’s not like either of us can exactly disappear into a crowd. You own a multimillion dollar company. I show my tits on camera for a living.”

  I decide to drop the subject. I’ve already revealed my intentions too much. Part of my success comes down to never showing off more than I’m willing to lose.

  I need Lizzie to continue viewing me as the dominant one in the relationship and not as a love-struck little boy
who wants a girlfriend. I don’t want her as my girlfriend. I want her to be the source of every good fuck I have for the rest of my life.

  Lizzie, seemingly realizing she temporarily has the upper hand in our power dynamic, sits up and decides to change the conversation.

  Lizzie

  I’m not sure whether you know this or not—hell, you may be crazy loaded for all I know—but in case you don’t know what it’s like to step into one of those fancy penthouse living rooms you usually only see in photos, well…let me just tell you that those photos do the experience no justice. And the longer you hang out there, the nicer it gets.

  Right now, I’m just listening to Darcy’s melodious voice and living in a fancy real estate magazine.

  “Every poor schmuck who watches your shows, I know what it’s like to be what they most want to be in life. It must drive them fucking crazy, the desire. They have no idea what it’s like—only their own dreams of it.”

  I’ve never seen Darcy with posture this bad, half sitting and half reclining with his terry-cloth robe covering him loosely. He’s talking straight up at the ceiling, into his own brain. I’m not offended, but there’s a thought I can’t shake: this is where the billionaire brews.

  I can sit back and watch, or: “Pasithea.”

  Darcy’s not prepared to get shaken out of his own brain. I sense the sudden stop and the brakes squealing. Usually, he would fucking explode at somebody for making him put on those brakes. Of course, he’s in no position to do that with me—and now he’s intrigued.

  “What was that, Lizzie? What?” Darcy is speaking slow, temping his temper down.

  “Pasithea. That’s part of my email address, and my alter-ego. She’s the Greek goddess of meditation, relaxation.

  “I have a different name as a Bennet Babe, and I don’t seem quite so relaxed there. But, ultimately, I like to think that’s what we bring. Fantasy, excitement, relief, a bit of peace. Fantasy is underrated for that, and vice versa. You seem to understand this.”

  Darcy looks confused, which is rare for him but is funny for me. It’s like someone splashed some weird, new color of paint on his idea palette. “Yeah,” he manages. “I guess.”

  “Pasithea’s also in charge of hallucinations, or dreams, I like to think. I guess Phantasos would make more sense, but he’s no fucking goddess. Anyway, any one of us Bennet Babes can personify a fantasy.”