In my defense, Darcy's dick kind of renders every other cock in the world irrelevant.
He wraps a second fist around it, just to hold it steady while he focuses his efforts on the tip. Oh, fucking hell. I'm wet. Dripping wet. There's just something about that—the fact that he actually needs two hands to control that bad boy—that just does it for me.
It does it for me bad.
"Why don't you join me, Lizzie?" he offers graciously.
"Leave it to a billionaire to try and screw his way into a free show."
"I could try to screw my way into something else, if you'd prefer," he smirks. "I was just thinking that you look awfully idle over there. Why not give me something to look at?"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I say, squeezing my knees together, trying to get a hold of myself.
Darcy's smile widens, and he tips his head back, all cocky and arrogant.
It's a good look on him. Too good.
Now I’m biting my lip.
"I think we both would," he says. "Spread your legs for me. It would be ungentlemanly of me to be the only one getting off. Don't you agree?"
Right on cue, my knees open up on their own for him.
Shit. Apparently, I do.
"Well, when you put it like that..."
"Good," he growls. "I want you to touch yourself too, Lizzie. Lean back, finger that dripping wet cunt of yours...and listen to my voice."
Darcy's gaze on me is so heavy, I can actually feel it as I scoot down in the seat and spread my legs open a little wider.
I should be used to this by now. Men watch me do this all the fucking time during work hours. But to do it for someone after hours feels…different.
Coming for a bunch of faceless guys, anonymously pouring money into my bank account across a computer screen is fun. It makes me feel good about myself, I get off, but at the end of it all, it's just a show. A
gig. Something I do for the return. Something that keeps my monthly budget thoroughly in the green.
I do it for the pay. Everything else is a fringe benefit.
Doing it for Darcy, though. That's something else entirely.
I stroke my pussy lips with two fingers, already feeling the steaming hot slickness that the sight of his cock has caused there. When I decided not to wear panties for this little adventure, I was feeling confident. Now, for the first time, I'm feeling totally exposed.
"Look at me," he commands.
I raise my eyes to meet his. He's staring at me with brutal intensity and my clit throbs. Darcy is totally eye-fucking me right now and I can't bring myself to look away.
I think about pretending that he's just another fan and realize I can't. It's the same feeling I had when he was chatting me during that first show he watched.
This man couldn't be just some other guy even if he was actively trying to be. Everything about him is electric. Visceral. Too hot to handle. More than any other guys I’ve met.
"You get off for a lot of men," Darcy is saying. My gaze lowers to his fists as he pumps his cock with them. "Something of a talent of yours, isn't it?"
"Do you like that?" I ask.
I shouldn't give a shit about what he likes or doesn't like...but I do.
"I like that you're confident in your sexuality. You know what turns you on. You know what you want."