My Darcy Mutates…

by Enid Wilson

Now that I had him positioned as I wanted, I took out a pair of scissors to cut up his Armani suit jacket and trousers, and the Ralph Lauren’s shirt. You needn’t be alarmed. I’m not a psychotic woman. I wouldn’t use the scissors on W.D’s cock or his beautiful body. But I enjoyed every minute of shredding those hateful clothes which made him look like a Greek god every day.

  By the time I had him down to his underwear, he was starting to wake up. I could see his sinfully long eyelashes batting. Then his eyes opened and he looked groggily around.

  He tried to move his legs and then his hands.

  He raised his head and had a look at his body.

  “What the fuck are you doing? Untie me immediately!”

  “You’ll only hurt your wrists if you pull like that again,” I said sweetly.

  “Then untie me this instant, Beth!”

  “Not until after I have my revenge.”

  “What revenge?”

  “You told Binkley that I’m too prim and proper, dull and boring.”

  “You are! Look at your clothes. You’re buttoned up to the neck, black on black, without even a necklace or earrings to break the monotony.”

  “You’d better shut up.” I held up the scissors and smiled at him menacingly.

  He clamped his mouth shut and looked at me with the first trace of fear.

  My heart laughed but kept my face expressionless. He didn’t know that I only intended to cut off his remaining underwear.

  I knelt down besides him and did just that. Hmm, he really is like a Greek god, very well endowed. I had only ever been with a couple partners before, and W.D. from this angle looks huge, even though he’s not aroused at the moment.

  Then I stood up. Put the scissors away and started to undress myself. I did it slowly, intending to tantalise him.

  First, I shrugged off my serviceable jacket. Then I hooked a finger on its collar, walked near him, swayed it along his chest and circled it around his cock.

  Ah, he loved the caress. His arousal sprang up immediately.

  I tossed away the jacket and took off my shoes. Then I started unbuttoning my black shirt, starting at the neck, while I used one of my bare feet to trace a line along his thigh.

  I could see the vein on his leg pulsing, and his shaft grew larger.

  When I took off the shirt and revealed the leather-laced corset underneath it, his eyes nearly popped out.

  I moistened my lips. “Do I look prim and proper now?” I asked in a sultry voice.

  “Take off your skirt and I’ll let you know.” That was his coarse reply.

  “Arrogant pig!” My eyes flashed with anger, and I used my toe to stroke his balls.

  He gasped and panted.

  I didn’t obey his order but unlaced the corset instead. Once it was off, I started fondling my breasts seductively.

  His gaze followed every movement of my hands. He swallowed hard, and his cock stood up even straighter.

  Only then did I unzip my skirt, wiggle my butt and let it pool at my ankles.

  His pupils dilated and his hands balled into fists upon seeing me with garter belt and stockings only.

  “Yes, I never bother with underpants.” I took the pin from my hair and shook my unruly mane to life. Then I walked near him, stepped over him with my right foot, and slowly lowered my body to sit on him.

  He raised his head as my breasts neared, clearly wanting to taste my nipples.

  I straightened slightly, not allowing him to lick them.

  “Do you like the feel of my stockings?” I rocked my body forward and backward, letting him feel the texture of my stockings.

  “Your pussy feels better than the polyester.”

  “Pig!” I might not be rich but I paid tons for my sexy lingerie. His foul mouth needed punishing. I grabbed his shaft and gave it a hard squeeze.

  He yelped, but I couldn’t be sure if it was from surprise, pain or ecstasy.

  “I’m a stud, not a pig,” he retorted through gritted teeth.

  I burst out laughing. “Whatever you’re, you’ll beg for mercy.” Shifting position, I lowered my head and swallowed his rod. When I started swirling my tongue around it with vigour, he raised his hips in helpless thrusts and came within minutes.

  His seed was hot and salty. He had such abundance that it overflowed from my mouth.

  While he lay panting hard on the floor, I went to his mini bar and took out a bottle of chilled champagne.

  I flicked a few icy drops onto his manhood. He sucked in air. I poured some more, washing away his cum. He gasped again as the cold liquid struck his hot flesh.

  “Beg me to stop!” I commanded.

  He bit his lip and refused to comply.

  “Stubborn bull!” Well, I wouldn’t waste a whole bottle of quality champagne on his cock. Raising the bottle, I drank from it thirstily as my hand kneaded his rod with rough force.

  After a few minutes of loud moans and cries, he came again. This time, his seed spewed everywhere, spattering onto my breasts and stomach.

  “Ah, two orgasms in such short successions. Is that a record?” I asked.

  His eyes had rolled back as if he was dead. “Yessss.” He whimpered the word out.

  “Well, let your dull and boring Beth take you to new heights.” I poured the remaining champagne over my breasts, allowing it to wash away his hot fluid. Lowering my upper body over his face, I teased his mouth with them.

  At that, he came back to life, his lips parting to take in my nipple. His tongue wetted and teased it, sending hot blood rioting through my body.

  I raised my bottom and slid my wet pussy along his shaft. His limp cock twitched once, twice, and then jerked upward, abruptly rigid. I didn’t hesitate, impaling myself on him with force.

  Ah!

  Ah!

  Both of us cried out loudly as we joined together. I lowered myself, engulfing him to the hilt, my body stretching to the maximum. I had never experienced the invasion of such a thick, hard cock before. After all, he’s more than ten inches taller than I am, and his shaft was undoubtedly the largest I had ever fucked.

  My wet inner muscles felt torched by fire. Like the detonation of a bomb, heat burst into my womb, and my body felt torn open by his rod.

  Our skin pulsed together. It took me several minutes to absorb the physical and emotional impact of our union.

  He bit his lip, thrashing beneath me, then cried out, “Fuck me hard!”

  I had no qualms about following his order, this time. I raised my butt and then pushed down onto him, hard and loud. He thrust up, as well, matching my rhythm, bucking like a wild stud determined to throw me. Like a crazy rider, I rode him in a frenzy. My fingertips dug into his chest as I impaled myself on him again and again.

  Every time his tip pierced the opening of my womb, I squeezed his rod and hips more tightly. My nails scratched at his torso. When we finally came together, my pussy was flooded with his burning seed.

  After Elizabeth finished the violent erotic scene in the story, she saved the document, switched off her computer and went home.

  The next day, when she returned to work, she found that Mr. Darcy was acting oddly. He seemed to stare at her, more and more openly. For the past six months, Elizabeth had worked with the man for many hours in the office. She also knew him socially, since her sister Jane was dating his best friend, Charles Bingley.

  He never spoke much about personal matters during those social occasions, but he did engage with her in heated debates about everything and anything. And he glared at her frequently, but nothing like today. She could feel him gazing at her breasts and bottom, following her body movements. He wandered in and out of her office for no reason at all, and he called her into his office more often than usual.

  By five o’clock, she was more than ready to call it a day and leave. But a last-minute summons from the great man meant she was in for another round of work.

  By eight o’clock, the office was deserted. Her concentration on the current design was broken by the
buzz of the intercom.

  “Miss Bennet, please come into my office.” His deep voice seemed laced with menace.

  Elizabeth bit her lip and replied, “Yes, Mr. Darcy.”

  She straightened her pencil skirt, tidied her wayward hair with an extra pin and walked into his office.

  He looked at her without a word for a long while. Then he stood up, turned the monitor towards her and said. “Please explain to me what this is.” As Elizabeth advanced towards his desk, he moved away and walked to the door.

  When she saw the file open on his computer, her mouth gaped open. It was her erotic story. How had he found the folder and cracked her password?

  The click of the lock made her whirl around.

  “What are you doing?” she asked shakily, seeing that he was removing his suit jacket.

  “What you wanted me to do.” He walked towards her, dropping his jacket on the floor. When he reached her, he picked her up and sat her squarely on his desk.

  “You don’t understand. It’s just a story,” she protested, gobsmacked as he unbuttoned her jacket.

  “You’re Beth and I’m W.D. What’s so hard to understand?” He breathed in heavily, then kissed her hard.

  When he thrust his tongue into her mouth, she surrendered. Drawing back, she admitted having been attracted to him for a long time, despite his demeaning words about her appearance and his constant criticism of her work. Then she kissed him back passionately.

  When they came up for air, he explained quickly, “I’ve always found you very handsome, handsome enough to tempt me. My initial comment to Charles was just a ruse, to cover up my over-enthusiasm for your alluring body. I was hypercritical of your work because I was frustrated every time I came near you.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re interested in me?”

  “I’ve been having steamy dreams about you for nearly six months now.”

  “And I have written over 400 pages of erotica about you!” she confessed, and blushed crimson.

  “I don’t like your story one bit.”

  “What?”

  “My hands were tied in your story. I prefer this.” Darcy used his strong hands to tear open her shirt, sending buttons everywhere. “What? No leather-laced corset today?”

  She licked her lips and shook her head. “But I can wear one next time, if you ask nicely.”

  He flipped open her front-clipped bra, and her lush breasts sprung free, as if begging for his attention.

  He squeezed one, and the nipple puckered, tall and hard. He lowered his lips to kiss it. Then he licked and suckled it, as his other hand plucked the twin peak.

  Her body felt weak. She used her hands to support herself on the desk as her head lolled backward.

  Suddenly, his hands abandoned her breasts and parted her legs.

  “Don’t wear a pencil skirt in future!” he demanded huskily.

  “What do you know about women’s skirts?” she panted.

  “A-line skirts are my preference.” He pushed her tight, narrow skirt up to her waist and pulling her towards the edge of the desk. “Hmm, no garter belt. And why the underpants?”

  “I might be persuaded to leave them at home if you ask nicely,” she said, provoked.

  He grinned, showing his lovely dimples. “But you don’t like me being nice.” He tore off her underpants roughly and then unzipped his trousers.

  She looked at his arousal with wide eyes. “You really are huge.”

  He laughed heartily, then spread her legs wider. As he lowered his head to kiss her mouth, he plunged into her hot sex with one mighty thrust.

  Her arms weakened as she savoured the force of his burning shaft. She slowly reclined on the desk. His mouth didn’t follow her. He used his palm to fondle her pert breasts, pushing, stroking, brushing and stimulating the creamy globes. His hips thrust in and out, forward and backward. His mouth gave out the sexiest moans and cries of ecstasy as his hard shaft created sparks inside of her.

  His pounding didn’t stop until she finally succumbed to the hot waves of arousal inside her body and screamed out as she reached climax.

  It took her a few minutes to return to earth. She could feel his arousal, still big and hard, deep inside her.

  “You didn’t come?” she whispered.

  He wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead and said, “I wanted to please you.”

  She didn’t know what more he could do to please her. She had just experienced the most amazing, most mind-blowing orgasm her body could create.

  But she was about to be proven wrong.

  Darcy withdrew from her, picked her up and lowered her carefully onto the floor. Then he flipped her over, so that she knelt on all fours. With skilful hands, he worshipped the gorgeous twin globes of her behind, then reached beneath her to tantalise her breasts, rousing her from her satiation.

  As her breath became shallower and her body tingled with anticipation, he pounded into her from behind. One hand slid from her breast to her satin belly, and then to her swollen apex. Using his fingers to rub her bud in front, he pushed into her from the back at frantic pace.

  She was once again encountering an out-of-body experience. His strong, muscular body was touching her in places and ways that she had not been touched before. Their hot, sweaty bodies rubbed together. Her moans were echoed by his.

  Her inner muscles were stretched and smarted, near their limit. Her thighs were forced wide by his. Elizabeth was nearing her peak, but this time she was determined to bring him with her. She squeezed him tightly, every time he plunged into her to the hilt.

  Finally she couldn’t hold out any longer. Her soul flew off to the sky as her body shuddered in ecstasy – and felt him come violently, as well. His whole body was fitted tightly into hers as he shivered and trembled, spurting his seed into her body again and again with explosive force.

  The feeling was beyond words. Her erotic hero on paper was nothing compared to Mr. Darcy in real life. He was like a sex god, existing purely for Elizabeth’s satisfaction.

  What happened after that day? Elizabeth still wore a tight pencil skirt, serviceable bra and plain underpants to the office. And he tore several of them nearly to shreds during their late-evening office interludes, which lasted for nearly a month. Luckily, Darcy foresaw such events and stocked plenty of pretty replacements for her in his private closet.

  She abandoned the 400 pages of erotica and concentrated on her real-life sex god for the rest of her life, achieving four children and countless mutual orgasms about which she could boast with him, in delicious privacy.

  About The Author

  Enid Wilson loves sexy romance. Her writing career began with a daily newspaper, writing educational advice for students. She then branched out into writing marketing materials and advertising copy.

  Enid’s novels, In Quest of Theta Magic, Bargain with the Devil and Really Angelic, received several top reviews. Bargain with the Devil has been ranked in the top 50 best-selling historical romances on Amazon USA, while Really Angelic in the top 30 best-selling Regency romances on Amazon Canada.

  Enid loves to hear from her readers. You can contact her at enid.wilson28@yahoo.com.au or www.steamydarcy.com

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