He inserts another finger into my pussy and starts pounding his knuckles against my pelvis.
The force of his movements are making my entire body shake against his hand. My breasts begin bouncing up and down in tandem with his hand’s rhythm, and my nipples are now constantly being stimulated by the pinching of those binder clips.
After much stimulation, I just can’t take it anymore. I need to come.
“Darcy, I want to come on your face! Please don’t make me hold it in any longer!” I wail. Darcy’s fingers become even more intense.
“Beg for it, Lizzie. Tell me why I should let you come,” Darcy orders, coyly.
I think for a moment, which is insanely difficult when you’re on the verge of squirting cum everywhere and trying to hold yourself from doing so. “Darcy! Please let your little slut come! I can’t take it anymore with all of the pleasure you’ve brought me. I want to show you how much I love all of this!”
Darcy smiles, and his words take me to another level of submission. “Good girl. Come for me, Lizzie. Come on my fingers and squirt all over my face like a good little whore.”
I want to please. I want to obey him.
Promptly, before Darcy even finishes giving me his permission, I flood cum all over his fingers and against his hand and wrist. He pulls his fingers out of me, and his face sits right in the path of my cum to squirt all over his cheeks, his nose, his chin, even all the way up on his eyebrows.
He places his hands against my outer thighs and butt cheeks and just holds on as I spray my nectar all over his face.
My hips gyrate as my cum spills everywhere against him. I’m moaning loud and expressively and even grabbing my breasts near my clamped nipples. The sensations are overwhelming, and I’m orgasming blindly.
I have no idea what else in the world is happening. I don’t even know what color the walls are or where the rest of Darcy is right now. It’s all a blur.
As I lower from my climax, Darcy brings his hands to his face, and he wipes my juices off his cheeks, as well as his other defining features, similar to the way a car’s windshield wipers scrape rain droplets or snow off a windshield. Only instead of pushing it all to the side, Darcy places his fingers into my mouth one by one and requires me to lick each of them clean before pulling them away.
“Thank you, Darcy,” I utter without thought. I’m damn grateful for this amazing experience.
Darcy leans in and kisses my forehead.
It’s crazy. He’s so dominant, so intimidating. But at the same time he’s still so caring and loving. I feel safe but uninhibited.
I’m fucking happy.
Darcy places his hands on my clavicle. He traces my collarbone with his thumbs, and his fingers travel along my shoulders. Soon his hands are running down to my forearms. A chill runs down my spine, and goosebumps present themselves all over my body, but especially intense where he’s touched.
I sigh heavily and close my eyes just enjoying the sensation.
His hands find my wrists, and he caresses from the top of my forearm down to my palms. He’s relaxing my body. He grabs my wrists tight and holds them together for a moment, contemplating his next move.
Darcy releases my arms from his grasp, and he brings his hands to himself.
He unties his necktie and straightens it out in his wingspan. He stares at me with a devilish grin. That fucking smile gets me every time.
I’m burning for more from him. I want to take him any way I can, but I don’t dare make the first move. The anticipation is much too thrilling to spoil it all.
He brings my wrists together again, this time with his tie in his hands. He wraps it around my wrists separately and pulls tightly together, forcing my wrists to touch. He wraps around again for good measure before tying off the tie, a confusing and ironic yet still appropriate makeshift bondage tool.
My arms are now bound behind me, and Darcy is in full control. I couldn’t fight him if I wanted to, but let’s be honest—I have no desire to.
Darcy caresses my body up and down, just admiring my curves and my assets. He starts up at my hair. He touches the crown of my head and runs his hand to the back of my skull and massages my scalp some before gripping his hand into my hair and pulling my face to his, giving me a sudden, passionate, rough kiss.
When he pulls away, his hands travel down to my neck and shoulders, and I tremble at the brush of his touch against my skin. It’s so softhearted but so controlled.
I ache for more. I desire his gruffness.
“You know, Darcy. I know you’re easing into all of this, but I really really wouldn’t mind taking things a step further. I want to play in your world,” I assure him.
He stops for a moment and thinks again to determine his next move. He’s staring off at his desk again. I can see his gears turning, and when he finally has it, his eyes light up, and he almost bounces in his steps around the desk to the drawers.