I could see the vein on his leg pulsing, and his shaft grew larger.
When I took off the shirt and revealed the leather-laced corset underneath it, his eyes nearly popped out.
I moistened my lips. “Do I look prim and proper now?” I asked in a sultry voice.
“Take off your skirt and I’ll let you know.” That was his coarse reply.
“Arrogant pig!” My eyes flashed with anger, and I used my toe to stroke his balls.
He gasped and panted.
I didn’t obey his order but unlaced the corset instead. Once it was off, I started fondling my breasts seductively.
His gaze followed every movement of my hands. He swallowed hard, and his cock stood up even straighter.
Only then did I unzip my skirt, wiggle my butt and let it pool at my ankles.
His pupils dilated and his hands balled into fists upon seeing me with garter belt and stockings only.
“Yes, I never bother with underpants.” I took the pin from my hair and shook my unruly mane to life. Then I walked near him, stepped over him with my right foot, and slowly lowered my body to sit on him.
He raised his head as my breasts neared, clearly wanting to taste my nipples.
I straightened slightly, not allowing him to lick them.
“Do you like the feel of my stockings?” I rocked my body forward and backward, letting him feel the texture of my stockings.
“Your pussy feels better than the polyester.”
“Pig!” I might not be rich but I paid tons for my sexy lingerie. His foul mouth needed punishing. I grabbed his shaft and gave it a hard squeeze.
He yelped, but I couldn’t be sure if it was from surprise, pain or ecstasy.
“I’m a stud, not a pig,” he retorted through gritted teeth.
I burst out laughing. “Whatever you’re, you’ll beg for mercy.” Shifting position, I lowered my head and swallowed his rod. When I started swirling my tongue around it with vigour, he raised his hips in helpless thrusts and came within minutes.
His seed was hot and salty. He had such abundance that it overflowed from my mouth.
While he lay panting hard on the floor, I went to his mini bar and took out a bottle of chilled champagne.
I flicked a few icy drops onto his manhood. He sucked in air. I poured some more, washing away his cum. He gasped again as the cold liquid struck his hot flesh.
“Beg me to stop!” I commanded.
He bit his lip and refused to comply.
“Stubborn bull!” Well, I wouldn’t waste a whole bottle of quality champagne on his cock. Raising the bottle, I drank from it thirstily as my hand kneaded his rod with rough force.
After a few minutes of loud moans and cries, he came again. This time, his seed spewed everywhere, spattering onto my breasts and stomach.
“Ah, two orgasms in such short successions. Is that a record?” I asked.
His eyes had rolled back as if he was dead. “Yessss.” He whimpered the word out.
“Well, let your dull and boring Beth take you to new heights.” I poured the remaining champagne over my breasts, allowing it to wash away his hot fluid. Lowering my upper body over his face, I teased his mouth with them.
At that, he came back to life, his lips parting to take in my nipple. His tongue wetted and teased it, sending hot blood rioting through my body.
I raised my bottom and slid my wet pussy along his shaft. His limp cock twitched once, twice, and then jerked upward, abruptly rigid. I didn’t hesitate, impaling myself on him with force.
Ah!
Ah!
Both of us cried out loudly as we joined together. I lowered myself, engulfing him to the hilt, my body stretching to the maximum. I had never experienced the invasion of such a thick, hard cock before. After all, he’s more than ten inches taller than I am, and his shaft was undoubtedly the largest I had ever fucked.
My wet inner muscles felt torched by fire. Like the detonation of a bomb, heat burst into my womb, and my body felt torn open by his rod.
Our skin pulsed together. It took me several minutes to absorb the physical and emotional impact of our union.
He bit his lip, thrashing beneath me, then cried out, “Fuck me hard!”
I had no qualms about following his order, this time. I raised my butt and then pushed down onto him, hard and loud. He thrust up, as well, matching my rhythm, bucking like a wild stud determined to throw me. Like a crazy rider, I rode him in a frenzy. My fingertips dug into his chest as I impaled myself on him again and again.
Every time his tip pierced the opening of my womb, I squeezed his rod and hips more tightly. My nails scratched at his torso. When we finally came together, my pussy was flooded with his burning seed.
After Elizabeth finished the violent erotic scene in the story, she saved the document, switched off her computer and went home.
The next day, when she returned to work, she found that Mr. Darcy was acting oddly. He seemed to stare at her, more and more openly. For the past six months, Elizabeth had worked with the man for many hours in the office. She also knew him socially, since her sister Jane was dating his best friend, Charles Bingley.
He never spoke much about personal matters during those social occasions, but he did engage with her in heated debates about everything and anything. And he glared at her frequently, but nothing like today. She could feel him gazing at her breasts and bottom, following her body movements. He wandered in and out of her office for no reason at all, and he called her into his office more often than usual.
By five o’clock, she was more than ready to call it a day and leave. But a last-minute summons from the great man meant she was in for another round of work.
By eight o’clock, the office was deserted. Her concentration on the current design was broken by the buzz of the intercom.
“Miss Bennet, please come into my office.” His deep voice seemed laced with menace.
Elizabeth bit her lip and replied, “Yes, Mr. Darcy.”
She straightened her pencil skirt, tidied her wayward hair with an extra pin and walked into his office.
He looked at her without a word for a long while. Then he stood up, turned the monitor towards her and said. “Please explain to me what this is.” As Elizabeth advanced towards his desk, he moved away and walked to the door.
When she saw the file open on his computer, her mouth gaped open. It was her erotic story. How had he found the folder and cracked her password?
The click of the lock made her whirl around.
“What are you doing?” she asked shakily, seeing that he was removing his suit jacket.
“What you wanted me to do.” He walked towards her, dropping his jacket on the floor. When he reached her, he picked her up and sat her squarely on his desk.
“You don’t understand. It’s just a story,” she protested, gobsmacked as he unbuttoned her jacket.
