by Enid Wilson
After that, it had been his turn to smooth his hands all over her body, from her shoulders down to her ripe bottom. Then, turning her around, his hands had smoothed their way up from her thighs to her taut belly to the sides of her breasts.
Afterwards, their bodies were pressed together, chest to chest. He pulled her right thigh up to his hip by bending her knee. It was strongly reminiscent of the position in which they made love. Afterwards, she’d wrapped her hands around his neck while he pulled her clinging form around the dance floor. It was an erotic, sensual dance, like the mating of a loving couple.
The freestyle had been entirely different. He now understood why Elizabeth had choreographed such a dance. It was a reflection of her dislike of him. It started with a tango and ended up with a samba. First, Darcy tried to court Elizabeth in a nightclub setting. She slapped him on the face and they engaged in a hot, high-tension tango well-suited to their true feelings at that time, for they had still been angry with each other about what had happened during the break. The fight in the tango was a furious exchange reflected in their eyes, facial expressions and body language. They tore their Latin costumes to pieces in the process.
Elizabeth was left in a samba bikini with glistening fringe, and he was in a tight, sleeveless T-shirt and shorts as the tango music faded, giving way to a samba rhythm.
Seemingly tired from their fight, he sat down on a chair. Elizabeth jumped onto the one opposite and shook her generous breasts, creating a waterfall with the fringe, taunting him. Every time he shook his body samba style on the chair and pretended to kiss her breasts, she moved just out of his reach.
Elizabeth jump up from the chair and danced around the perimeter of the dance floor. He chased after her in samba moves, then pretended to slip and laid half down on the floor, still shaking his body. She came back to him, placing her feet on either side of him, then shaking her body fiercely while she moved all the way past his thighs, his waist, his chest, until she stood over his head. Half-reclined on the floor, shaking samba style, he eyed her glittering body at close range…
Watching the video, he could still remember with exquisite precision how his body had shivered when he saw her sex passing so close above his mouth. He had longed to lick her. It was a raunchy moment of erotic tension between two stubborn lovers, each of whom wanted to win over the other.
Finally, he jumped up, chased her down, and scooped Elizabeth onto his shoulder, positioning her face-down, bottom-up. He was supposed to smack her lightly to end the dance but, a bit angry, he had smacked her bottom with more force than necessary. The music stopped. The dance was over.
With applause ringing in his ears, Darcy turned her away from the camera and gave her bottom a hard squeeze before he put her down. After he released her, she had glared at him the whole time as they received their scores and won their trophy.
He had just finished watching another round of the recording when he heard a knock at the door. He didn’t bother to get up from the couch. He simply called, “Come in.”
The door opened and Elizabeth, dressed in a long dark windbreaker and high heels, came in, shut the door and locked it.
Am I hallucinating? He wondered wildly, and jumped up to stand beside the couch. He was bare-chested, wearing nothing but underpants that sported stains from where he had gratified himself while he watched the recording. “Elizabeth!” he croaked.
“William, I…”
“Don’t say a word! Let me find my jeans and T-shirt first.” He hastily pulled on his clothes, tidied his hair with an unsteady hand, sat down behind the massive desk and gestured Elizabeth to sit in the chair in front of it. “Now, what can I do for you, Miss Bennet?”
Taking her time, she sat down. Then she squared her shoulders and said, “You were very unfair, the other night in the garden of the hotel.”
Darcy's heart fell. He’d held onto a tiny hope that she had come for another reason.
“Unfair? How?”
“I let you talk, uninterrupted. But then you walked away before I could say my piece.”
“You have more to say about my failings?”
She bit her lower lip. “Not yours, but…the low-life’s.”
“Did he do something bad to you, too? I should have killed the bastard in India, while I had the chance!” He jumped up from his chair, came around the desk, paced two steps towards Elizabeth and stopped. Then, with a sigh, he went back to sit down behind the desk. “Sorry, Miss Bennet. Please continue.”
“The gossip magazines were right.”
“But you didn’t sleep with him.”
“No, it wasn’t me. But he was sleeping with Lydia, my youngest sister. I introduced them, just two weeks into the show. He got her pregnant. I blamed myself, and I bought the pregnancy test and checked out the clinics for her.”
“But Lydia was only 15 years old. Did you report it to the police?”
“Lydia said no. She said she loved him. But the bastard denied responsibility and said he didn’t know how many men she might have slept with, before and during their time together. In the end, she miscarried.”
“That was why there was so much tension between you two, towards the end of the season.”
“Yes. I asked Jimmy Forester to let me pull out, to say I was ill or had a dying relative. Of course, I couldn’t tell him about Lydia. I just said flatly that I couldn’t dance with George anymore. Forester said he would think about it, and then he pulled the partner swap trick. I think he believed that the low-life was sexually harassing me, and that he would be less likely to do so with Ann.”
“But why did you defend Wickham then?”
“I didn’t. I just don’t care for your high and mighty attitude.”
He dropped his gaze from Elizabeth’s tense face and looked down at his hands, feeling that all hope was gone. She never liked me at all.
“It was a brilliant trick. It did wonders for the ratings.”
He said dully, fighting to retain his self-control, holding onto whatever topic was available. He barely notice when Elizabeth stood up and walked towards him.
“Just good for the ratings?” she whispered in his ear.
Darcy was caught off guard. He automatically pushed himself and the chair sideways, moving away from Elizabeth…but also inadvertently opening his thighs for her to move in and stand between them. Reluctantly, he looked up. She smiled down at him, tender and teasing. “Didn’t you like the switch in partners?”
“Mmm…” He wasn’t sure how he should answer. He didn’t want to anger her with any stupid words from his mouth while she was smiling.
“Didn’t you like our samba?” She pulled her iPhone out of the pocket, pressed a button and placed it on his desk. As samba music filled his ears, Elizabeth untied the sash of her windbreaker and pushed it off her shoulders to reveal a yellow samba bikini with glittering beads and fringe.
Darcy’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He was having trouble breathing.
He watched as she put her hands on top of her hair. She began to wiggle her breasts in front of him in a rhythm that bewitched him. She then took one of his hands and placed it on her cleavage.
He felt the earth move. His hand got to touch her creamy breasts again and again as she shook them for him. She continued to dance, moving forward toward the junction of his thighs.
He felt his arousal stretching his jeans. He wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her body against his, stopping her dance. His head now joined his hand, resting on her breasts. He breathed in deeply, absorbing her lavender scent.
“You don’t hate me anymore?” he asked, and raised his head to look her in the eye.
“I never hated you,” she said softly. “I told myself that I didn’t like you…but after you were gone, I stayed in the garden for a long time, thinking about us. I admitted that you were handsome, hot and intelligent, even on the night we made love. I don’t believe I would have slept with you if I weren’t attracted to you. Then you explained everythi
ng to me about the low-life and about your…awkwardness.”
Hardly able to believe what he was hearing, he said, “Why didn’t you let me know earlier – that night? Or this past week? I spent 10,080 minutes without you, and I was in despair!”
“I had to work out my feelings. And I was waiting for you to come back to me again.”
“But you refused me. I thought you would want me to respect your decision. And I…I was afraid of more rejection.”
“But I'm afraid, too! You’re a handsome, incredibly rich man. I worried that, after a few days, you would come to your senses and wouldn’t want to bother yourself with me.”
“Never! You’re a beautiful, hot, talented woman. I don’t understand why you were still a virgin at 22.”
“I was too busy with dancing and studying. And a lot of the men in Meryton thought that John Lucas, my dance partner, was my boyfriend. Actually, he's gay. And then, when I was partnered with Wickham, he just seemed too…smooth.”
Darcy found that he could breathe again. “I’ll have to thank John, the next time I see him, for helping you save yourself for me!” Lowering his head, he licked her cleavage.
That made Elizabeth moan.
He stood up, picked her up, swept the paperwork from the desk and laid her upon it, her legs dangling over the edge. He parted her thighs and leaned his body on her, then asked, “What are we going to do now?”
Her eyes sparkled. “You’re going to make love to me on your desk. Isn't it obvious?”
“Well, yes. But I mean, are you going to be my girlfriend or something?”
She arched her eyebrows playfully. “Let me think! I’ll give you an answer after I score the performance you’re going to give in the next few minutes.” She flashed him a brilliant smile.
“In that case, I’ll implement one of the findings from my recent research.” His hands palmed her breasts and smoothed over them in a circular motion, making her nipples harden…but the beads and fringes were a hindrance. He fumbled and searched. “Where have you hidden the clip?”
“On the back.”
Darcy put his hands underneath her and tried to open the clip. He couldn’t see where it was, so he rolled her over onto her stomach.
She put her elbows on the desk, trying to turn her head to see how he was doing.
“This opening mechanism is more complicated than a car engine!” he grumbled.
“I have every confidence in your ability to persevere.”
“Finally!” He flipped open the clip. “I swear that I’ll invent a simpler opening for a bikini top.”
He was about to roll her over onto her back again, but then he was distracted by her glittering bottom. It made him remember the final move of their freestyle, When he’d had her on his shoulder. He felt a sudden urge to smack and squeeze her bottom again, preferably naked.
Undress her, man!
He pressed hot kisses on her neck, then down her spine. In one swift movement, he stripped down her bikini bottom and tossed it over his head, baring her delicious derrière.
She gasped.
He gave her a playful smack on the right cheek.
“What are you doing?” Elizabeth demanded, glaring at him over her shoulder.
He gave her another soft smack on the left side.
“William!” she scolded.
He parted her legs, lowered his mouth and kissed her inner thighs. Her bottom shook and wiggled on the edge of the desk. He then slid a finger into the secret of her sex. It slipped in easily, for she was already wet. He slid another finger in while tracing her secret lips with his thumb, and Elizabeth trembled.
“Oh, William,” she moaned loudly.
He pushed both fingers in and out of her, slowly at first, then increasing the pace. He saw her arch her upper body, and felt her inner muscles contract just before she cried out. Her elbows sagged, and she let her upper body sink back onto the desk.
Darcy pulled out his fingers, moved his hands to pull her upper body up from the desk slightly, then squeezed and massaged her breasts while he pushed his thick manhood into her from behind with force.
“Oh yes, William!” she screamed.
It was heavenly. He closed his eyes for a second and savoured the feel of her tight, wet muscles around his manhood. When he opened his eyes, the sight of their naked bodies joined together aroused him further. He felt his sex grow even larger inside her.
He saw her arch her upper body as she held herself up with her elbows and turned slightly to watch him. Her eyes were half closed, her lips parted, and her breathing had become shallow. He shifted one hand from her breasts and held her hip, while his other hand continued to pleasure her twin peaks. He pulled his manhood nearly out and pounded into her again with force.
The samba music played on, a musical incitement to riot.
He stayed inside her for a moment, grinding his tip against her womb, then pulled nearly out and thrust hard into her again. Her breasts shook with the rhythm of his pounding.
Their moans and screams became louder and louder. He felt her muscles contract around him in a wave of tremors, and couldn’t control himself any longer. His body shivered and bucked, and he spilled his seed into her, then collapsed onto her back.
After recovering for a few moments, he said smugly, “Hello, Miss Judge. What is the score for my performance?”
“Mmm… a seven.”
“Only a seven?” He had hoped that he would earn a 10 and convince her to become his girlfriend, his lover, his wife and, soon, the mother of his children.
Heartbroken, he pulled himself out of her and collapsed into his chair, his whole body sagging.
He sensed her turning to look at him, but he was too depressed to respond. He heard her cross the space, and then he stiffened in delighted surprise as she sat on his lap. “Of course a seven,” she murmured sweetly. “You will need years and years of my private training to improve enough for me to award you a perfect 10.”
“You teasing woman!” He wrapped his arm around her waist and gave her a tender kiss. “So, you are my girlfriend now?”
“Yes.”
“Will you move in with me?”
“My suitcase is outside.”
“Will you marry me?”
“Maybe, once you’ve improve on your skills enough to get an eight,” she said, and laughed.
“And that would take how many years of training?”
“Oh, at least until I reach twenty-five.”
“But that’s three years away. Please, Elizabeth, no more than a year. Don’t you know that, according to research, the earlier you become a mother, the smarter and healthier the babies will be? ”
“You talk too much about research! Just shut up and kiss me.”
***
In the end, they got married after two years of living together. Each year, they celebrated the loss of their virginity in the library with new dance moves. Even their four children were not allowed to disturb them on such nights.
As for the scores, Elizabeth never once awarded him a perfect 10 during their fifty years of marriage. She said it was important for a truly dedicated student to keep learning.
Darcy branched out in his inventions, not on simpler bra clips, but with ideas on how to help nurses and doctors to better care for their patients. Pemberley Inventions, when floated in the London Stock Exchange, was a huge success.
Amateur Erotica
What if Mr. Darcy was a difficult boss?
Bloody arrogant pig! Elizabeth Bennet swore under her breath and saw her boss of six months walk out of the office.
Mr. William Darcy is the most arrogant jerk in the universe! she swore again.
He had demolished her hard work of an entire week in just a few minutes, criticising the design as ‘dull’ and ‘boring’.
It’s now nine o’clock in the evening, and she vowed not to waste another second slaving for him.
On the deserted office floor, she knew the best way to vent her anger. She called up
her story folder, typed in the password and started writing.
Who does he think he is? W.D knows nothing about me. I confess I have feasted on the sight of him, time and time again. His physique is that of the ideal male model: six feet four inches, broad shoulders with hard biceps. His bottom is perfect and his thighs muscular. The curly hair on his chest goes wonderfully with his perpetual tan. His unruly hair begs to be ruffled. His eyes are dark and intense, and his lip begs to be passionately kissed.
He told a friend that I was a prim and proper spinster, a dull and boring secretary who did his bidding well enough, but that he wouldn’t take me out to a function. I might blend so well with the white wallpaper that people would bump into me without even noticing.
I’ve had enough of his vicious tongue. I have planned my revenge. This is the big day. He has instructed me to stay behind to work on an urgent project.
I’ll let him see just how prim and proper I’m—not! Since I’m only five feet two inches in height, there’s no chance for me to succeed with this revenge unless I use drugs, so I went to the pharmacy and bought a packet of travel sleeping pills.
It’s near eight o’clock, and the office is deserted. He asked for coffee to be brought in. “Immediately!” He used his clipped tone, as usual. I cut one pill open and put a quarter of it into his coffee cup. I don’t want him to be unconscious for too long. I made the coffee the way he likes it, then stirred it frantically.
When I brought it in, I waited for him to drink it all while I kept busy around the files near the corner of his office. After a few minutes, I could see his eyelids slowly closing. I couldn’t suppress the smile on my face. I danced out of his office and went to my desk to retrieve my bag.
Then I walked back into his office, locked the door and pulled him down from his chair onto the floor, ever so carefully. I didn’t want to injure him. He needs to be somewhat conscious when I deliver my revenge.
I took out the ropes from my bag and tied his ankles to the legs of the desk. Then I raised his hands above his head and tied them to the legs of the couch nearby.
