I moan again, louder this time, and then his mouth is on mine, and then my lips are too busy to do anything but kiss him. I lick at his tongue like a fucking animal, and he forces his own tongue into my mouth like he needs to show me who’s in charge here. His teeth sink into my lower lip as he forces all twelve glorious inches of his iron-hot man meat into my glowing little pussy, and it happens.
I’m orgasming for him, unbelievably, again.
“God! FUCK! DARCY!”
“That’s right, Lizzie. Say my name. I’m the only man who can make you come like this—over and over again, with no end in sight and no relief.”
“DARCY!” I scream again.
“And you will, Lizzie. You’re going to orgasm for me over and over again now. Until your sanity blurs. Until you’re not even a person anymore—until you’re just a fucking pleasure doll, made to take cock and feel good and nothing else.”
“Oh my god, DARCY!” I whine. Maybe beg. Maybe plead.
Because right on the edge of the last orgasm, there’s another. And another. I’m coming so much, so hard and so fast and in such quick succession, one after another, that I’m not going to be able to make words soon.
Even now, every time I try to search for something to say back to him, my head only produces fragments:
Please! Fuck! Darcy! OH! Pleasepleaseplease—
So that’s what I say to him.
It only makes him fuck me harder.
“Those are whore words, Lizzie,” he growls, sinking his teeth into my neck. “Are you a whore?”
“Y-yes!” I cry. “I’m your whore!”
“Goddamn right you are.”
Darcy slides both hands beneath my ass, picking me up. My legs wrap around his waist as he spins us, slamming the freezer door closed and fucking me against it. The force of our bodies hits so hard, the refrigerator door swings open in response, and in a moment of clarity in my desperate orgasming, I see it.
Right there in the door.
So close, I can fucking reach it.
Oh my god.
No way.
Will Darcy might have filled his apartment with futuristic furniture. His kitchen might be totally stocked with expensive gelato and fine wine. But everyone has their weakness, and I’ve just found where Darcy keeps his.
He might be too good for cooking wine, but apparently he’s not too good for Reddi-wip.
Just as I feel Darcy’s balls tighten and his cock throb inside me, preparing to pump my pussy full of his cum, my fingers curl around the red and white can. Darcy’s mouth opens to moan my name, and that’s when I do it.
While Darcy’s balls empty cum deep, deep inside me…
While his cock sprays my cunt full of his thick, creamy cum…
I aim the nozzle of the whipped cream into Darcy’s sexy mouth and I fucking blast him with it.
The space between us explodes in sweet, creamy goodness: in Darcy’s mouth. Across his cheek.
In his hair.
God—in my hair. It fountains up over our heads and rains back down on our bodies.
For a moment, Darcy almost looks annoyed. But then I see that dark, sexy, signature Darcy grin shine through it, and he starts fucking me even harder.