Executive Engagement

But as it turns out, no dice. Just a really gorgeous bathroom with some sinister, slate-grey floors.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Darcy says, lowering me to my feet.

The floors are heated, which I approve of. I'm still cold from our little fuck against the freezer.

I am sooo making Darcy feed me that ice cream after this.

"Cleaned up?" I ask. "I thought you wanted to fuck me again, honey."

"I do," Darcy says, and he pumps his cock in his fist to prove it. Just a glance at that and my pussy throbs, sending Darcy's cum leaking down my thigh.

Fuck. He's n

ot kidding.

"Don't like me dirty? And here I thought that's how you preferred your women."

"Oh, I love you dirty," Darcy says with a wolfish grin. "But I intend to take you to bed after this, so we'll have to clean you up first."

He pinches one of my nipples just hard enough to make me yelp and to send another glob of his cum down my thigh all at once. When he pulls his fingers away, they're coated in whipped cream.

He sucks them clean in like, the sexiest way possible. All succulent lips and noisy tongue.

"Bath or shower?" I ask,

Darcy rushes at me, gathering me up in his arms. When he kisses me, he tastes creamy and sweet.

Whipped cream or my wet pussy? Could be either, but I have the express pleasure of knowing that it's both.

Darcy's kisses turn into more fingering, and the fingering turns into Darcy pushing me around his master bathroom by the sensitivity of my clit.

He has me up against the wall. Bent over the sink. Perched on the edge of the bathtub.

All so fast and so close to orgasm that I can't think straight. Fucking Darcy is apparently just like that: sometimes, it's a blur—but God. What a gorgeous blur it is.

At some point, while I'm humping his hand like a bitch in heat and begging for him to make me cum, Darcy turns on the shower. The bathroom fills with steam so thick, you could slice off a piece and have it for dinner.

It fogs up the mirror, until Darcy shoves me against it and reaches between my legs to finger me from behind.

"Oh, fuck!" I curse. "God, Darcy—please. Pleeeeeease. I want to come for you, please let me! Let me come—let me come!"

Darcy pulls me away from the mirror by my throat. Now, the imprint of my body is there on the mirror for a few seconds before it fills in with fog again.

I can see both of my tits, huge and round where they were pressed hard against the reflective surface. My handprints. The open O of my moaning mouth.

"You're a perfect slut, Lizzie," Darcy breathes against my ear. He pulls me against him harder. His big, meaty manhood is harder than I've ever felt it as it presses between my ass cheeks. "You'll come again. And again. As many times as I make you. But first..."

He forces his cock into the valley of my ass and presses his cockhead against the pucker of my asshole.

"I thought we were keeping it clean," I hiss in surprised delight.

"I thought you liked me dirty," Darcy sneers, twisting my words and using them against me.

It works. It so fucking works.

"Your cum. Lube," I say, pushing my ass out.

Darcy's cock slips between my pussy lips, which coat him in his slick, pearly cum. Daringly, I rock back even further so I can slide my clit against his cock too. I don't know how I can have orgasmed this many times and still be needing more.