“One orgasm just isn’t good enough for her,” I add. Now I’m licking the cum off his shirt. Beneath the linen fabric, I can feel his perfect abs. They’re warm and hard beneath my tongue.
“Nothing is good enough for her.”
“I bet she drinks only expensive wine too.”
“Completely empties my wallet,” he agrees. “But she’s worth it.”
“Is she?”
I raise my eyes to him, and hold his gaze as my fingers grip the lapels of his suit jacket. Slowly, very slowly, I lick up the delicious stream of cum clinging to it. I stick out my tongue and show it to him before I swallow.
“Absolutely,” he breathes.
“And why is that, Mr. Darcy?”
I’m practically sitting on his lap now, and I feel his hands curl beneath me to grip my ass.
“Because,” he says, shifting his hips. Suddenly, his dick is cradled perfectly between my pussy lips. I can’t help but whimper as it presses against my swollen, horny clit.
“She lets me fuck her like this.”
What does like this mean, you ask? In Darcy’s case, like this means grabbing me by the ass and painstakingly lowering me onto his cock. Inch. By. Inch.
The first inch is just the tip. Darcy’s cockhead is fat and sensitive, and despite the workout that I regularly give myself on camera, I’m still almost too tight for him. He moans as he sinks into my pussy. It’s the sexiest sound in the world.
The second inch. He’s biting his lower lip with that cocky Darcy confidence. The kind that could get him any woman in the world he wants. He could seduce any woman in the world to take his cock. He could afford to pay any woman in the world for the same thing without even half the effort.
But he doesn’t want just any woman. He wants me.
That thought makes me hump my hips toward him, trying to drive him deeper inside me and end this prolonged agony of waiting. But Darcy has a cruel streak, and worse—he has a plan.
The third inch. The fourth.
Now I’m whimpering and cooing like a total slut. He’s so close to sliding up against my G-spot that it makes my teeth ache.
The fifth inch. The sixth.
Finally, I feel the thickness of his dick stroking my pussy exactly the way I wanted it to just a second ago. But instead of feeling satisfied, I only want more.
The seventh inch.
“Please,” I whine, rocking my hips back and forth in his hands.
“Please what, you little cock addict?”
SMACK! He slaps my ass and lowers me onto inch #8.
“M-m-more,” I beg.
“Patience.”
The ninth inch.
He’s as deep inside me as any other man has ever been. Nine inches is usually something worth bragging to your girlfriends about, over brunch and mimosas the next morning. Darcy makes nine inches look like nothing more than an appetizer.
Ten inches.
My whole body’s shaking. I put my mouth on his, desperately kissing his lips. I need to be fucked. Roughly, thoroughly fucked.