by Abby Angel
When he pulls out, the cum drips down onto the escort. I lick it off.
As Darcy thrusts away at my pussy with his massive fucking cock, I slip my fingers between Madeline’s legs and into her slick, tight cunt.
“Take it, Lizzie!” Darcy snarls.
“Take it, Madeline,” I whisper in an echo as I finger Madeline in time with Darcy’s rhythm.
This is like fucking mad. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. Maybe unlike anything I’ll ever feel again.
This isn’t anything that I could ever have with any other man. Judging by the way Darcy is pounding me, he knows it too.
Any other man wouldn’t be able to make me feel safe the way Darcy does.
Any other man wouldn’t make me feel so secure.
Hell. Darcy has two hot, willing women in bed with him. Any other man might have came so many times already; he wouldn’t be able to satisfy even one of us, let alone both.
But Darcy isn’t like other men. And his cock isn’t like other cocks.
“Oh GOD,” Madeline and I moan together.
We’re both at Darcy’s mercy now. I’m edging on another orgasm as Darcy’s insanely big dick pushes inside me again and again, giving my G-spot the time of its life.
And Madeline is right there with me, taking pleasure from my fingers as I give her own G-spot a proper working over with little come-hither motions that make her grind against me like a bitch in heat.
I’m grinding against Darcy in the exact same way. There’s nothing rational or reasonable about this anymore.
It’s pure fucking chaos. Biology. Anatomy. Want and need.
“Fuck yes, Lizzie,” Darcy grunts. He’s pushing his words out through his teeth, and I know he’s going to come any minute now.
Come inside me. As deep as any cock could ever go.
“Fuck yes, Madeline,” I echo. My voice is light, airy. Like my head is in the clouds.
Madeline and I are both whimpering now. She’s totally unable to make coherent words. I’m not much better.
My dirty talk has been reduced to mirroring whatever Darcy is growling as he takes me from behind while he squeezes my throat.
“Take it, Lizzie!”
“Take it, Madeline!”
“Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god,” Madeline whines beneath me.
It’s hard to say which one of us comes first. As it’s happening, it feels like we all come together. All at once.
We stop being three people fucking like absolute animals. We become one pile of cum and moans and pleasure.
It’s transcendental.
It’s madness.
It’s orgasm—plain, pure, simple and fucking glorious.
I honest to God think mine might have hit me so hard that I blacked out a little.
When I’m able to make coherent thoughts again, Darcy is pulling out of me. A rush of his hot, salty cum pours out as my cunt gapes in his absence.
It rains down on Madeline’s smooth, sexy stomach. Big dollops of creamy-white man juice on her taut, tan skin.
“Lick if off, Lizzie,” Darcy whispers in my ear.
He guides by mouth as I scramble to do so before I risk even just one pearl of his gorgeous opalescent cum dripping down onto the sheets. I lap it up off of Madeline’s skin like I’ve been lost in the desert and Darcy’s cum is all I have to drink.
It tastes like love. Oh my god.
If he could bottle his cum, he’d make another billion, easily.
Too bad for the rest of the world, because it’s mine. All mine.
“Not fair,” Madeline pouts from beneath me. She’s staring up at me in the most pathetic pout I’ve ever seen. Beautiful still, but so full of longing that my heart actually physically aches for her.
I know it’s not fun missing out.
“Sharing is caring, Lizzie,” Darcy whispers in my ear again.
And then I remember.
I remember exactly how my fantasy ends.
I move over Madeline, positioning my cunt right over her plump, sexy lips. Generously, I let the rest of Darcy’s cum drip out of my pussy and onto her tongue.
“Mmmm. Oh my god! Yes!” Madeline moans, licking it up like the greedy whore she is.
I’m a greedy whore too, I guess. Because the next second, we’re rolling across the bed together, sharing Darcy’s cum between us, passing it back and forth, adding to it with our saliva until we’ve both got massive mouthfuls of each other’s spit and Darcy’s delicious cum.
We lay back, panting, as Darcy watches us swallow it all up.
“Stay back.” Madeline giggles at him, hugging me up in her arms. “She’s mine now, Darcy!”
Her body is warm, slick with sweat and saliva and cum.
So is mine.
We hold each other and giggle together as Darcy’s gorgeous lips turn downward into a frown.
“I thought you wanted me,” he faux-pouts.
He’s fucking cute when he pouts.
“No, honey. I think I’ll just do girls from now on.”
“Sharing is caring.” I laugh, giving Darcy a smug little shrug of my shoulders.
Darcy considers that for about half a second before he pounces on both of us. I can’t keep track of whose mouth is whose as we slump back into the plush pillows of Darcy’s bed, a wild tangle of limbs and kisses. Totally blissed out.
Darcy
I may keep Chuck around because he’s fun, but at the end of the day, he’s a damn fine lawyer. I don’t know what kind of magic he worked to bend the Bennet Babes deal back in my favor, but the son of a bitch did it. Chuck and I review all the paperwork required for the deal at my desk.
There’s a lot of legal language in these forms I need Chuck to explain to me. I only half-listen. There’s something ticking in the back of my head I can’t quite shake.
And then, like a bullet piercing my consciousness, I hear Chuck say, “You know, once all is said and done, you won’t be able to fuck that Lizzie girl anymore.”
I think back on the night we shared a few evenings ago. The way we made each other cum so forcefully was hands-down one of the best experiences of my entire life.
I can’t imagine being unable to experience it again. It would be tantamount to not being able to enjoy a nice glass of wine ever again. Or being unable to eat steak.
I’d be denying myself a pleasure I so desperately need.
But I’ve spent years building up this business. I can’t allow it to fall to the wayside, even for a woman as fantastic as Lizzie.
“Everything will be all right,” I say. Chuck passes me another piece of paper for me to sign. Chuck says, “Are you sure you’ll be all right with her continuing to do the live cam shows? I trust you won’t fuck her, but are you sure you won’t get jealous?”
“I was actually thinking of moving Lizzie to the marketing team.” I hand back the piece of paper to Chuck, who doesn’t immediately take it.
“Marketing?” he begins. “Are you sure you want to do that? Even if you’re not fucking her once she starts working for you, you don’t want your feeling to cloud your better judgment.”
Finally, Chuck takes the paper from my hand, and he hands me another one. It’s a tedious task, but it needs to get done.
“No clouding of judgment here,” I say. “I actually spoke with her the other night, and she has some good ideas about how to take the company forward. I think she would be a real asset in that department.”
“A real asset, eh?” Chuck asks. “And you don’t think that decision has anything to do with her assets, do you?”
“God damn it!” That response has nothing to do with Chuck’s question. I got a papercut from a file Chuck was handing me. It immediately starts bleeding out, so I call my secretary to have her come up to bring me a bandage.
After the short phone call, I finally answer, “She’s a very smart girl. She understands this industry inside and out. I truly believe she’d be more help in marketing than on camera showing her tits.”
/> “Are you sure you just don’t want Lizzie to meet anyone else? There are a lot of guys out there who would love to be with her,” Chuck says. And there are no doubts in my mind about what Chuck is referring to. I’d be willing to bet a small fortune Chuck has a to-do list of sorts of women he hopes to fuck and all the various positions he’d love to fuck them in.
I can’t help but feel a little angry when Chuck presents this scenario. I know full-well Lizzie could fuck any man she wants.
Chuck would be a good prospect for her. After all, Chuck is fucking loaded.
However, something tells me Chuck would ultimately fall short of Lizzie’s high standards. Being rich is one thing, but the Lizzie I know wants something more out of a partner.
I have a feeling if Lizzie and Chuck were to ever go on a date, he would come across as overly desperate. His neediness would ooze out of him, and Lizzie would stick him with the check and never call him back.
“A girl as beautiful as Lizzie could meet men anywhere,” I say. “Whether she’s stripping in front of a camera or working in a cubicle, men would come from miles away to be with her.” It’s a sad realization I’ve finally come to terms with.
Once Lizzie works here, I can’t fuck her. I won’t fuck her. And Lizzie has needs to be met, and if I can’t fulfill them, then she’ll get them somewhere else.
I imagine it will only take a matter of days for Lizzie’s horniness to catch up with herself, and once I deny her advances, she’ll go elsewhere.
I suspect it will only take a matter of days for myself to end up in a similar position. There’s no shortage of escorts I call, but once I resort to fucking escorts and having them suck my cock, I know it won’t feel the same. It will be like taking methadone. Something to ease the feeling without fully satisfying it.
I hand Chuck the last document to review. He stacks everything into a neat pile and puts them away in his briefcase.
“Well, as long as you know what you’re doing,” Chuck states. “I’ll get these over to Catherine to review, and it should only take a matter of days for everything to be finalized. I’ll reach out once we’re all good to go.”
I don’t respond. I simply watch as Chuck takes his case and leaves the room. As soon as he exits, my secretary, a young 20-year old by the name of Emily, enters with a package of bandages.
She’s beautiful. I mean, why else would I hire her. Chuck stares at her ass as he leaves the room.
Emily takes a bandage out of the case and wraps it around my finger. “Do you need someone to kiss it, too?” she softly asks.
“No, Emily. That’ll be all.” Obviously disappointed, Emily exits the room. And no, I’ve never fucked her even though I’ve imagined her sucking my cock under this desk more times than I can count.
Lizzie
There are some fantasies that you can’t stop thinking about, but there are others that you don’t even know you harbor until they come true. Walking through the corridors of Darcy’s office building, I feel the grand importance in the sky—high ceilings and polished floors. Don’t get me wrong, I do not want to be in a place like this every day, but in this moment it feels like I’m stepping up my game and stepping up in the world.
I could get used to this.
Despite the epic weight of it all, when I open the door to Darcy’s office he’s leaning back in his chair with his imported loafers up on his desk like it’s nothing. Darcy’s shiny shoes are resting right on top of piles of important looking contracts, memos, receipts…damn, why does that make me feel so hot? I notice for the first time that Darcy is reading an actual paper version of the Wall Street Journal.
“What year is it, again?”
Darcy looks up like he’s just noticing me there for the first time. He looks back down at the folded broadsheet. “The year when I can get an intern to bring me the paper every day so I don’t have to pay to read this crap online. This year.”
“You ever hear of a soft paywall? Private browsing? Free shit?”
I already feel like I’m in a time warp watching Darcy with that paper, especially when he folds it and places it down on his desk. Darcy smiles.
“You mean stealing? I’ve heard of stealing. You know, piracy.” Darcy slides his loafers off the desk, crumpling and disorganizing his papers even more. Oh, baby. Seriously.
“Arrr, I’m a pirate, I like to read my phone on the subway instead of a bunch of fucking dead trees. Arrr.” I’m scrunching up my face in an attempt at a sexy, aggressive grimace. Or, at least as sexy as an aggressive grimace can be.
“You don’t take the subway, do you?”
“I take the arrr train from 34th Street. But, seriously: car service all the way from the mansion.”
Darcy places his hands on his desk and leans straight forward. If someone else tried that, it would look ridiculous. When Darcy takes control of his high—powered desk it gives me the beginnings of little orgasmic waves – a preview of things to come.
“That’s the goddamn way to do it, Lizzie. You’re learning well.” I know Darcy’s just trying to get me going. I wouldn’t take that shit from anybody else. With Darcy, I only pretend not to take it.
“I ain’t learnin’ shit from you. That’s always how I roll into the city.”
That old magnetic force is pulling me around towards Darcy’s desk. I’m here for a reason, after all.
Which way will I walk around the desk to get to the main attraction? Around the right side? The left side? I start strutting forward to start.
I’m not working but I’m dressed for the office. I fix my eyes into Darcy’s, willing each clack of my Cole Haan pumps to make his billionaire cock a little less soft. I want to savor the moment before I savor something else.
“You’ve got the swag, Liz.”
I put my hands on my hips, old—school burlesque style. I glare at Darcy across the desk – I’m the teacher about to punish a naughty student after class. An oldie but a goodie. That would make a good photo set.
“The fuck you just call me?”
Darcy lets his hands slide back across the desk as he slowly sinks back into his chair.
“All I said was: You’ve got the swag, Lizziewhoisthesexiestgoddamnthingever.”
“That’s what I thought. And what, or rather who, is your fantasy now?”
Darcy doesn’t answer right away. But, I’m going around the left side of the desk. Sinister. I’m still walking at a snail’s pace—let all twelve of those firm, unyielding inches build in their good time. This is like an appetizer.
Darcy is watching me get closer to him. His eyes are glued—cemented, really—to my deliberate walk. He is starving, ravenous.
I can walk the walk: one foot directly in front of the other, the boundaries of my well-formed ass swinging in and out of tantalizing view. Darcy is still starving, but he’s playing it cool yet again, speaking calmly.
“You know what it’s like now. Fantasy made reality.”
“I do, thanks to you. It’s beyond indescribable. Wait, can something be beyond indescribable?”
I’m losing the act, but we’re both becoming our real selves.
“You don’t have to thank me, Lizzie, if that’s what you’re here for.”
I run my hand across the finished mahogany at the rim of Darcy’s desk. Still getting closer.
“I can thank you with my words, but I agree that I don’t have to. What I use to form those words though: tongue, lips, throat…”
No time for a passionate kiss, no time for making out. I collapse onto Darcy, throwing my hands onto the shoulders of his suit jacket, my face already dangling half a foot above the crotch of his trousers. I lower my face slowly as I slide my hands quickly down the cast-iron sides of his chest, then his abs, and then…I better lift my face up a bit before unzipping what now awaits me.
My body temperature must be running well above a hundred as I focus on Darcy’s diagonally striped tie for a second to keep from having a Richter scale-registering orgasm before things even begi
n. Darcy is still, silent. I grip the tiny pull of Darcy’s zipper between my thumb and forefinger, gently lowering it until it’s almost all the way down.
Without warning, all twelve fully erected inches of Darcy’s own finished mahogany tear violently through the front of his boxer-briefs, sending his pants button flying across the room and leaving his rigid, deep berry-colored cock completely exposed and ready for serious business.
I start by running my tongue lightly up and down the underside of Darcy’s monumental shaft, first a small section and then expanding to cover more and more area. As my intensity ramps up, I pull back suddenly and begin very subtly massaging different parts of the cock with my lips, again building up in intensity more and more until I’m softly kissing, and then licking, up and down the entire length.
I transition seamlessly into taking Darcy’s cock into my mouth—his hands gripping both sides of the chair as I make sure he experiences the most extraordinary pleasure imaginable.
Darcy
Lizzie has no problem taking every ounce of cum I can muster and swallows it without hesitation. She gets up and goes toward the chair on the other side of my desk. She assumes a position of dominance in the chair as though she has all the power in the room.
She may have just sucked my cock, but it’s clear she isn’t willing to concede to me all the power. She knows what she can do to me. And I like it.
“So, tell me,” she starts, “what’s your biggest sexual fantasy?”
“You are,” I utter. All it took was that one question to make my cock rock hard again. I need her to come back around to this side again to get me off.
But I don’t make a move. I want to see where she goes with this line of questioning.
“Bullshit,” she responds.
“It’s the truth,” I say. And I’m only partially lying. Lizzie and I could do missionary for eight hours straight, and I would be 100% satisfied the entire time. She has that effect on me.
“I told you I always wanted a threesome. What’s something you’ve never done but always wanted to?” She leans in a little closer, putting her elbows at the end of my desk. She’s trying to coerce me into telling her, and it’s working.