What if Mr. Darcy had an odd friend?
Looking through window at the pristine snow, Elizabeth Bennet gave a deep sigh. The tranquility of the natural scenery didn’t ease her mind. It was her fifth day of work at Pemberley Ski Resort, near Wilder Kaiser in Austria. She knew she shouldn’t be here, but she couldn’t make herself to leave. After all, what was the chance of her meeting him ever again, even though this was one of his most famous business ventures?
She thought about their roller coaster “relationship”. Did we actually have a relationship? she asked herself.
William Darcy and she had met in a tennis class in Sydney. Staying there to oversee a business merger for a few months, he had taken time out in the evening, joining the local suburban tennis class. The facility and the coach, though not first class, seemed quite professional to Elizabeth.
But she overhead him talking to his friend, Charles Bingley, snickering at the sub-standard coach, the poorly maintained court and the hopeless fellow players – like herself. “She’s tolerable, I suppose,” he said, “but not good enough to play a mixed double with me.” Those had been his exact words. Who did he think he was? Rafael Nadal? Roger Federer?
To her utmost satisfaction, she’d had a great time showing him how good she was, playing a mixed double against him. Wickham and she demolished Caroline Bingley and the arrogant man in a 6-2, 6-1 win. Since then, Darcy had been glaring at her, eavesdropping on her conversations with others all the time.
Besides seeing each other in court, Charles was dating Elizabeth’s sister, Jane, and so Darcy and she saw each other frequently. She soon learned that his sneering attitude extended to her mother and younger sisters. He found them noisy, crude and vulgar.
Offended by his pompous manner, she took every opportunity to taunt and tease him. Busily triumphing over her success at goading him, she was utterly unprepared, one night soon after the match, for his sudden declaration of love and lust.
They were trying to recover a lost ball in the bushes besides the tennis court when he suddenly pressed her against a tree and kissed her senseless. His tongue and hands were like magic, setting her whole body on fire. Forgetting about his conceited behaviour, she responded passionately to his advances.
When they stopped for air, he declared himself to have been madly in love and in lust with her since their first meeting. He asked her back to his place to continue the “mutual groping”. At that, her wit returned, and she lashed out at his arrogance, conceit and haughtiness. She told him that he would be the last man she would shag, especially since learning about his involvement in persuading Bingley to dump Jane, and about his mistreatment of Wickham, his old friend.
In anger, she tried to leave, but he grabbed her arms, wanting to explain. She ended up shoving her knee against his balls, leaving him to cry in pain.
A few days later, however, it was she who was crying, for having misjudged him.
He retreated to London and sent her an email to explain everything: He had talked to Charles and found out what happened. He did ask his friend to cool down the fast romance and make sure of where his heart was. He didn’t know that Charles’s sister Caroline would spread vile lies, persuading Charles that Jane had moved on to a bigger fish.
He also explained his dealings with Wickham, who was involved in drugs, women and gambling. He even provided evidence of how Wickham had schemed money from Darcy’s sister, Georgiana, and broken her young and innocent heart.
A few weeks after Darcy’s explanation, Bingley had returned to Sydney and made up with Jane. Elizabeth also berated herself for listening to Wickham, a mere casual acquaintance she had met at the tennis club, over someone she had grown to know much better over more than a month’s time.
But did she really know Darcy better? How could she not have noticed that he loved her? How could she forget his gaze, his tolerant smile over her teasing, his subtle catering to her wishes when they were together, and his occasional brushing of his hand over her arms, her fingers, her back? Looking back, they all made sense now.
She regretted not staying to hear him out and to resolve her misunderstanding. She was sorry for hurting him, both physically and mentally. He had confessed that he had been an awkward teenager, and that he hadn’t expected to grow tongue-tied and feel a lack of confidence again when he fell in love with her. He was sorry to have forced his passion on her, and he understood why she found him lacking...
Elizabeth found that she could read his anger, sadness, love and resignation in his email.
Did she regret him? Certainly he was smart, tall and sizzling hot. But those were simply external attributes. Could she truly fall for a stuck-up snob who looked down on everyone?
As a result of those questions and uncertainties, she had never replied to his email. But now, up on the mountain, she was finally receiving her answer.
Darcy was no snob. He had been a caring brother and compassionate soul to everyone at Pemberley Ski Resort and in the surrounding little villages.
He had come here in his early twenties, and had happened upon a devastating avalanche. Several villages were covered by the snow, with lives lost and businesses destroyed. He helped Mrs. Reynolds, who lost her entire family in the accident, to rebuild her home. He donated a great deal of money and devoted many weeks each year to helping the community. He opened his resort here as a means of regenerating growth in the area. And he did it right. The place was prosperous and full of happy laughter now, and nearly everyone Elizabeth met had a glowing story to tell about Mr. Darcy.
She had no chance of seeing him again; indeed, Mrs. Reynolds said that he was not expected at the Resort for the remainder of the winter. Isolated from him, however, Elizabeth understood for the first time that she might actually have been attracted to him, right from the beginning. That would explain her indignation over his slight, as well as her constant attempts to tease him in an attempt to spark a reaction from him. It also explained why she liked being with him, and why she had kissed him back so passionately.
She sighed again, then decided to earn her keep by opening the letters that had just been delivered by the postman: bills, junk mail, bookings and more bills. None of it interested her…until she came upon a pink envelope with a card inside, addressed to Mr. William Darcy and marked ‘private.’
Tomorrow would be Valentine’s Day. Could this be a Valentine’s card from his present girl friend? Did he have a lover now? Why had it been sent here?
Elizabeth racked her brain, thinking hard. She had been feasting on gossip magazines since she arrived, but she hadn’t seen any recent photos of him with any women.
“Private, but not personal. I’m the secretary here…” she murmured. Curiosity was killing her. After a few minutes of deliberation, she decided to open the card.
It was a cheap, bland Valentine’s card with a red heart on the front. Inside were a few short sentences of nearly illegible writing, marred with many blots:
My dear Darce,
I t’s time of the y ear. Get your 3 inches out and s hag
some girls wit less.
Ig ore their comp ains and en joy yourself!
Your best friend
B
“Shit!” Elizabeth dropped the card and swore, “What did Bingley tell him to do?” She picked up the card and read it again, with growing indignation. “Get your 3 inches out and shag some girls witless? Ignore their complaints and enjoy yourself? What sort of best friend is Bingley? Should I tell Jane about it? Why would any girl want to complain if Darcy shags her? I certainly wouldn’t complain. The man is scorching hot! But hang on! 3 inches! What does he mean, 3 inches? How many centimetres is that?”
Elizabeth scratched her head and wished she had done better in class with mathematics. She hated the imperial system. Luckily, Google was right in front of her. She typed in “length converter” and clicked on the first website.
Three inches = 7.62 centimetres.
She looked at the ruler on her desk, right in front of her eyes. Surely that couldn’t be! Such a hot guy couldn’t be so badly endowed. He was tall, and his hands and feet were big. His shoulders were broad, his biceps strong. She thought back to their tennis lessons. He usually wore loose sport trousers, so there was no way she could tell about…other measurements. Anyway, she had not ogled him. Well…that wasn’t entirely true. She might have ogled him a little bit – his legs and torso. But not there!
I understand why you found me lacking...
She thought back to what he had written in his email. Could it be true? “Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Darcy!” she whispered in sympathy.
“What are you sorry about, Elizabeth?” asked a deep voice from behind her, making her jump.
Elizabeth shoved the card into the pocket of her jeans, turned and saw Darcy’s big frame silhouetted in the doorway. He was encased in a thickly layered ski suit, but she could still see his muscular physique, handsome face and soulful eyes.
“I…,” She gasped, then gathered her courage and gave him a bright smile. “I didn’t find you lacking. Will you give me a second chance? You know…for the mutual …groping.”
His eyes widened and his pupils dilated. Taking her hand, he led her out of the office to his room, at the far end of the resort.
While they walked hand in hand, she vowed to show him her love and to make certain that he enjoyed himself, despite of his deficiency.
He led her into his room, pressing her against the door the moment they were inside, not sparing any time to switch on the light. He gave her a sizzling hot kiss, nipping at her upper lip and then thrusting his tongue against hers. It traced an erotic path along her inner muscles, making her blood flow rapidly through her body and pool at her apex.
On and on, he caressed her mouth, pouring his longing from the past few months into the kiss.
His cold hands tore at the buttons on her blouse and her front-clipped bra, winning access to her sumptuous breasts. As his fingers puckered her nipples into hard peaks, his tongue drove even more deeply into her mouth. She felt nearly choked by his violent action.
Grasping his shoulders, she dug her fingers into his back. As if sensing her vulnerability, he slowed the tempo. His hands began to shape, palm, knead and fondle her twin peaks tenderly, while his tongue made love to her mouth slowly.
The fluid of arousal flowed through her, and she felt herself reaching the peak. Shivered violently, she climaxed, still standing with her back to the door. As her legs weakened, she nearly collapsed onto the floor.
Breaking from the kiss, he picked her up and placed her on his bed. His mouth moved quickly, drawing an alluring path from her lips down her throat, then between her deep cleavage and on to her navel.
Then his hands made quick work of her jeans, taking them and the panties off in one go. He marveled at her lush body in front of his eyes. Parting her legs, he lowered his mouth and slid his tongue along her folds, while his thumb rubbed her bud.
Her body bucked under his ministrations, but his strong hands shifted to hold her hips on the bed. With his forceful tongue, he thrust into her wet entrance, invading her hot inner core. She squirmed and moaned aloud, begging him to relieve her suffering.
He was merciless in his attack. He suckled her bud and thrust his tongue in and out, on and on until she screamed out in abandon, reaching her second orgasm.
In its aftermath, Elizabeth was in a haze as she noticed him stripping off his thick ski suit. Before she could see his body properly, he settled between her parted legs. She wrapped her hands around his neck, gazed at him and said, with a firm voice, “William, I love you, no matter what. Make me yours.”
He returned her gaze and replied, “I love you, too, Elizabeth.” Then he nudged her legs even further apart and thrust into her.
OMG, he was so big and thick! She nearly blurted out the words.
Even though she was fully aroused and wet to the core, she found her muscles stretched to the limited. She panted heavily as he pushed more and more into her. Every cell in her body was torched by his hot, hard shaft. His hands moved to her breasts again, squeezing them hard as she panted in response.
She instinctively raised her body and wrapped her legs around his waist to accommodate his invasion. With a sudden swift thrust of his body, he pushed right to the hilt, grazing the entrance to her womb with his tip.
Elizabeth’s eyes rolled back, and she believed she was in heaven again. Then he began to move. He pulled away, right to her entrance, then rammed into her hard, pounded into her again and again. The sound from the encounter of their sweaty bodies, their moans and their cries, created a kind of sexually charged music in the room. To her astonishment, she realized that she could reach that higher paradise again. After endless minutes of ardent thrusting, he finally drove into her with such a mighty surge that his tip fitted itself against her very core. At that, she cried out in ecstasy and reached her third peak, trembling and convulsing on and on, until she squeezed him so hard with her inner muscles that he shouted out in bliss. He shivered, poured his essence into her and collapsed on top of her.
When they finally returned to earth, he rolled away from her, then pulled her to lie on top of him. He switched on the bedside lamp, wanting to devour her lovely body with his eyes.
Her eyelids felt heavy but her gaze suddenly snagged on the sight of her jeans on the floor…and the pink envelop spilling out of the pocket.
Bewildered, she raised her head, took a look at his relaxed body, and asked him in wonder, “William, why did Charles send you a Valentine’s card?”
He looked at her in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“He said you only had 3 inches! But you’re huge!” Then, embarrassed at discussing his size, she blushed and covered her cheeks with her hand.
“Oh. That,” Darcy said as understanding dawned on him.
“I felt sorry for your...” Words failed her, and she raised her little finger to show him what she meant.
“You asked me to make love to you because you felt sorry about my …?”
“No. I would have made love to you, no matter what. I love you.” She lowered her head and kissed away his concerns.
When they stopped for air, he said, “The card wasn’t from Bingley. It was Billy who wrote it.”
“My cousin Mr. Collins? Why would he send you such a strange card?”
“I knew him in my teens. One year, he came to the Hunsford camp with my aunt. It was around Valentine’s Day. He made out with a girl, one night. The next day, when we were both in the toilet, we overheard the girl outside, laughing about his size with some of her friends.”
“Oh dear.”
“Oh dear, indeed. He took a look at me and burst into tears, lamenting his small size. I comforted him, telling him that size didn’t truly matter. I assured him that he would find someone who loved him for what he was. Since then, he has counted me as his best friend. He sends me a Valentine’s card every year. He said we should encourage each other, in such a lonely time.”
Elizabeth frowned. “But he said ‘take your 3 inches out and shag some girls witless.’ He was joking?”
Darcy’s face turned bright red. “He said, back then, that I looked to be 9 inches. But you’ve seen his writing. He must have blotted the 9 into looking like a 3. I’ve received similar cards from him, in the past, each messier than the last.”
“9 inches? That’s nearly 23 centimetres,” she murmured, and glanced at his lower body.
Their talk had clearly aroused him, for his manhood was standing tall and proud. Elizabeth stretched her small hand out, as if to measure it.
Darcy would have none of that and smacked her hand away. “If you want to measure it, I know a much better method.”
Rolled her onto her back, he thrust inside her again.
And that is how they came to spend the night and all of Valentine’s Day measuring and discussing the relative merits of the metric system.
What if Mr. Darcy expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love might be supposed to do?
Elizabeth Bennet slowly awoke to the sound of a phone ringing, the caress of a man’s strong hands on her breasts, and his growing hardness pressing importunately against her bottom.
One of his hands left her momentarily.
“Yes…No…Yes…Hmm…Ok…Bye.” The sound of the man answering the call roused her from her lingering stupor, for it sounded like…Mr. Darcy!
She opened her eyes and stared straight ahead.
“Shit!” she swore under her breath, for what she saw was his office.
She lowered her glance as his tan, dark-haired arm settled back on her white breasts again.
From the waist up, she was without a stitch of clothing. And his big, hot hands were slowly rubbing and pinching her nipples.
She sucked in a deep breath and squirmed, then swore, “Shit,” again as she felt his firm arousal prod her butt cheeks. She was completely naked, without anything covering the lower part of her body, either.
How did I get here? she wondered wildly.
The decorations in his office reminded her that it was Christmas. Events and images flashed through her mind: Caroline Bingley, the Human Resources dragon, laughing behind her back, the day before. The orange woman had snickered at her, saying that Elizabeth was a prim and proper tomboy who wore a buttoned-up shirt, trousers and short hair, a boring, fat lad who didn’t know how to have fun with men.
After that, Elizabeth had shopped for the most alluring and feminine frock she could find, to shock the acid-tongue woman at the office Christmas party. With a constant supply of wine and champagne to bolster her courage, she had flirted and laughed with nearly every man in the company.
She remembered that her big boss hadn’t seemed to like her new behaviour. When she saw Mr. Darcy withdraw from the festivities with a frown, she followed him into his office, determined to make her serious boss have some fun.
Actually, she had done a lot more than that. She remembered, after a bit of happy banter, how she had pushed him down to sit rigidly on the chesterfield couch, feeding him sips of bubbly from her own mouth until…
“Elizabeth, my love,” Mr. Darcy murmured, close to her ear. His deep, velvety voice made her shiver. Then his tongue stroked her earlobe, before nipping and sucking on it.
She trembled. Her mind couldn’t concentrate any more. As his hands squeezed and cupped her breasts to sensual heights, she panted and cried out in low moans.
Arching her body involuntarily, she felt one of his legs push hers at an angle. Granted access, his impressive shaft slid along her outer folds from behind, making her apex ablaze.
One of his hands left her twin peaks and travelled down to her pubic hair. His demanding fingers rubbed and tweaked her sensitized nub from the front. The dual attack rendered her instantly afire and soaking wet.
Elizabeth grabbed onto his arms, bracing herself as she felt him position himself at her entrance. When he pushed into her, stretched her tight and tender inner muscles insistently, she let out a loud moan.
This super-big boss of hers was jumbo-sized, invading her in a way she had never experienced before. She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut as sensation of friction and scorching heat spread through her core.
He pushed in, inch after inch, slowly, steadily, relentlessly, until at last he reached her hilt. Suddenly, she remembered this ecstasy of his manhood inside her, recalling it from the last time. She had been in control then, straddling him, using gravity and determination as she lowered herself onto his impressive girth. Panting, she had confessed to him she had never before done the deed in any way but the missionary position, on a proper bed. After she took control and fucked him wildly while he continued to sit stiffly on the sofa, she told him it had been the best sex she had ever had.
Now he was invading her from behind, filling her in places she didn’t know could be filled, creating another unforgettable dream. But when he started to pull out and push into her rhythmically, building to a neck-breaking speed, she knew it was a wonderful reality instead.
His sizzling mouth was biting her neck. His burning hands had returned to pluck at her throbbing nipples while his blazing shaft pounded into her with maddening urgency. After endless minutes of amazing sensory assault, her body couldn’t take it any more. She screamed out his name and dug her fingers deeply into his forearms as she rode out the highest climax she had ever reached. The waves of it crashed through her body for ages.
Still quivering with delight, she felt him pump into her in a frenzy of quick pulses and then freeze, his tip stopped at the depth of her womb. Growling savagely, he blasted his essence into her. His teeth bit into her shoulder, and his convulsions prolonged the orgasm she was still experiencing.
Her body was on fire, torched where their skin touched, where his mouth and hands stroked, and where his manhood throbbed. Her mind was satiated for a long time, and she whimpered in protest when he finally withdrew from her and turned her to lie on her back.
He brushed the wayward curls from her sweaty face and lowered his mouth to kiss her eyelids.
When she opened her eyes, she was greeted by the brightest of smiles on his face. His emerald gaze bored into her. The lovely dimples made him look like a young man of twenty, instead of a mature businessman of thirty five.
He smoothed his hands along her body, then lifted her left hand. He kissed each of her fingers, and a glinting light made her eyes widen.
“What…?” She swallowed hard.
“We’re engaged, my love,” he said, and leaned down to kiss her deeply.
She squirmed in astonishment, and accidentally pushed him off of the sofa.
He laughed and pulled her down on top of him, then rolled to pin her gently beneath him.
Once again, her concentration was broken by the sensation of his lips and tongue. He pressed his muscled frame against her on the rug, guiding her legs up to wrap around his waist, and she felt him spring to life again.
Is this man Superman? she wondered wildly as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
His tongue thrust into her mouth as his hard rod searched, shifted, and then impaled her anew. Her body was wet and ready, still hot from their last encounter. Insatiable, he plunged into her again and again, on and on, a dance of delirious delight.
This time, they reached their peak together. Their moans and groans filled the office and echoed in their ears. When he collapsed on top of her, she loved the feeling of connection with this big man.
Slowly, she returned to earth. He sat up to relieve her of his weight, and settled with his back to the chesterfield. Then he pulled her up to sit on his lap.
“You’ll move in with me today, won’t you?” His deep voice brought her back from the hazy clouds.
She gazed at him, finally remembering how, after their first coupling, he had pulled her to his desk, set her down on his chair and retrieved something from the top drawer. Kneeling in front of her, buck naked, he had proposed to his equally naked personal assistant.
“I’ve loved you passionately, since not long after you started working for me,” he had explained. “I started carrying my mother’s ring with me, this last month. The sparkles of the diamond remind me of your eyes.”
She’d smiled at the unconventional proposal from her naked boss, then impetuously agreed. He, in turn, had slipped the beautiful diamond ring onto her finger and they’d celebrated with a tender and slow lovemaking, on his desk! He’d confided that it had been one of his fantasies for quite a while.
Wow, so he’s fucked me senseless four times in the past few hours, Elizabeth now thought. Suddenly she remembered she had indeed been ‘senseless’, no doubt dulled by the alcohol. Didn’t she dislike her arrogant boss?
“Umh…Mr. Darcy…” she stammered.
“William.”
“Umh…William…” The rumbling of her stomach startled both of them. They stared at each other, then broke into chuckles. She had never seen him so carefree.
“We’d better feed you with food, too.” He winked and pulled her to stand up.
While she was debating how to tell him that she’d been drunk when she agreed to his proposal, he dressed both her and himself quickly. He seemed very capable at slipping her into her bra and panties, and then sheathing her in her tight black cocktail dress.
Once that was done, he wrapped his hand around her waist and led her out of the office. As a young man violently in love, he chatted non-stop how much he loved her, all the way back to his townhouse in Knightsbridge. She found she couldn’t edge in a word to hamper his enthusiasm.
His elderly housekeeper greeted them at the door.
“Mrs. Reynolds, you remember my personal assistant, Elizabeth Bennet?” He made the introduction warmly.
Elizabeth’s face turned bright red as the elderly lady looked her up and down. Darcy still had his arm around her waist, and Elizabeth felt sure that Mrs. Reynolds knew they’d had sex, because Elizabeth’s hair and dress were dishevelled.
“Miss Bennet. Merry Christmas.”
“Mrs. Reynolds. Merry…Christmas.” Damn, why can’t I talk normally? Elizabeth thought. Must be the effect of Mr. Darcy’s hand rubbing my waist.
“Elizabeth and I are engaged. She’s moving in here. We’re a bit hungry right now. Do you have any goodies?”
Oh, great! Now he’s announced it to the world.
“Oh, William, that’s wonderful news.” Mrs. Reynolds gave him a kiss on the cheek before hugging Elizabeth tightly. “I have some sandwiches in the fridge. You didn’t bring any personal belongings with you yet, Miss Bennet?”
“Mr. Darcy…William…rushed me here…”
“Of course I did! I didn’t want her to change her mind about moving in.” He winked and pulled her into the kitchen.
By the time they finished the sandwiches, another person came into the kitchen.
“Well, William, you certainly stayed at the office party a lot longer, this year,” his sister said cheerfully. "What kept you?"
“My fiancée and I were…occupied.” He smiled at Elizabeth, who felt her blush spread to her chest. Did he have to tell everyone what they had just done?
Georgiana squeaked and flung herself on him. “Congratulations, brother!”
“You remember Elizabeth Bennet, my personal assistant these last six months. My sister, Georgiana.”
Georgiana then hugged Elizabeth warmly. “You can call me Gigi. And thanks for taking my dull and overbearing brother off my back.”
“Georgiana!” he chastised.
She stuck her tongue out at him and continued talking to Elizabeth. “I didn’t have much chance to talk to you, last time, but I’ve heard so much about you! He laughed over how you gave him a dressing down for bad dictation.”
Elizabeth remembered the incident, which had transpired just three days after she started working for him. She had made a few mistakes in her typing, and he was furious with her. In turn, she had told him that she’d never had that kind of problem with her bosses before. She suggested that he dictate closer to the recorder, not with his head wandering around in every direction.
Darcy also remembered the incident. He had been annoyed with Caroline for hiring such a badly dressed personal assistant for him while he was away. He had only taken Charles’s sister out a few times, to some business functions, but she seemed to think that she owned the company – and him!
After his initial attack on Elizabeth’s taste in clothing, he had found her efficient, intelligent and refreshing. By the third day, he had begun to feel attracted to her. His gaze followed her everywhere, as he enjoyed the fantasy of stripping the hideous business suit and trousers off of her and doing wicked things to her voluptuous body everywhere in the office. That was the true reason why the quality of his dictation had slipped.
He’d scolded her for the typing mistakes but she, in turn, gave him a fiery dressing down. Her temper was refreshing. Since then, he had been in love with her. He hadn’t asked her out on dates because they were working days and sometimes nights together anyway. And on the weekends, because her sister Jane was already dating his friend Charles, Darcy and Elizabeth often saw each other socially, as well.
He loved that she was unafraid of him, and that she didn’t fawn over him. Instead, she spoke her mind, both professionally and socially. They often had heated but inspiring debates. He treated her more as a friend than as an employee. It had become more and more difficult for him to reframe from expressing his love to her, but he was still unsure of her family. Her mother and younger sisters sounded, and behaved, like gold diggers.
But when she’d turned up at the Christmas party dressed like a glamorous sex kitten, and had proceeded to flirt with every man there, he was jealous as hell. He resolved to talk to her after the Christmas party, then retreated to his office to calm the green-eyed monster. But she followed him into the office, where she not only told him but also showed him how to have fun.
And, boy, had he had fun! He had never been ridden by a wild woman before. Strangely, he found that he loved this domination by his petite love. He’d experienced the best climax of his life when she rode him to oblivion, and he was ecstatic when she agreed to marry him. Their subsequent love-making sessions had been as marvellous as the first one. He hadn’t know that he was capable of shagging her four times in such a short span of time.
The phone rang again, and he answered it curtly.
“Yes?…Wickham…hell…”
Elizabeth watched as Darcy stalked out of the kitchen to continue the conversation. Then Mrs. Reynolds excused herself, leaving Elizabeth to remember her other objection to him. Besides their initial clash at work, she had also heard George Wickham, a junior in admin, speak about how badly Darcy had mistreated him, preventing him from dating Georgiana.
“This Wickham…he’s your boyfriend?” Elizabeth asked Georgiana.
“He was dreaming!” Georgiana exclaimed. “William and Wickham grew up together. I was much younger. When I was in junior high, Wickham wanted to date me. Come on, he’s so old! Like my brother. Who would want an elderly brother as a date? Wickham made a nuisance of himself, and my brother told him that he would fire him if he continued. It took that to make his yucky behavior stop.”
Elizabeth gritted her teeth. She had been taken in by a delusional stalker! “Georgiana and I love each other so much, and her brother separated us. We vowed to keep our chastity till she reaches 21, and then run away together.” Those had been Wickham’s melodramatic words. “Why did Mr. Darcy hire him in the first place? Just because they were friends?”
“Wickham is my father’s godson, so William took care of him whenever he could. I told William he should have washed his hands of him ages ago. Godson, my ass!”
At that point, Darcy walked back into the kitchen. “Georgiana, good night. Elizabeth and I are tired.” He arched his eyebrows at Elizabeth when he spoke. Then he pulled her upstairs, to his room.
So, what should I do now? she wondered. He didn’t mistreat Wickham. He might have been a bit arrogant in that dictation incident, but he’s smart, serious and responsible. He loves me to bits, and he sure knows how to fuck me senseless…
While she was still mentally debating the relative merits of keeping or breaking the engagement, he pulled her into the bathroom and started divesting them both of their clothes. In moments, she was a lost woman. Again.
When they married, six months later, she teased him that it was his bedroom ability that persuaded her to stay in the engagement long enough for her to fall in love with him.
He retorted that she had certainly taken her time, giving him ample opportunity to prove that his abilities extended to the office, the bathroom, the bedroom, and almost everywhere else inside his townhouse and country estate.
“Well,” she answered, contented in his arms, “a good personal assistance ought to be thorough. Don’t you agree?”
What if Mr. Darcy and Wickham had a fight?
People around the world were outraged that convicted billionaire William Darcy was given an unbelievably light sentence, serving only a day at Meryton’s charity co-op, Ice Cream Vision.
“How difficult can it be to be an ice-cream taster? It’s a dream job, not a punishment,” a woman in London said.
“That rich brat must have bribed the fat judge at Meryton,” a man from New York claimed.
On April 1st, 2008, Darcy pleaded guilty at Meryton Court to a charge of reckless assault against his former friend, George Wickham. Darcy was sentenced to one day of community service.
Computer whiz kid Darcy was staying with his friend, Charles Bingley, at Netherfield Mansion, in the town of Meryton a year ago, when the incident occurred. During a party hosted by Bingley, Wickham became drunk and verbally abused a local woman whose name was withheld from the press.
Darcy got involved in an altercation with Wickham about the woman, hitting Wickham on the face several times with an expensive pair of shoes, giving his victim a black eye and a bloody nose.
The Berluti boots, Rapieces Reprises, looked extremely stylish, especially with their innovative orange hue color. Sadly, they were an unwanted gift from Bingley’s sister Caroline to the billionaire, with an original price tag of $1,830. She claimed to have encrusted the pair of shoes with a million-dollar diamond heart, which was lost during the brawl and never recovered.
The photo of the billionaire being handcuffed by the Meryton Police, his clothes in disarray, was featured by tabloids around the globe for several months. Today, he will serve his sentence at Ice Cream Vision, an organisation which produces and distributes free ice cream for poor children in the neighborhood.
The Meryton Weekly
“Now cut open the last ice cream tub lengthwise. What do you see?” asked the Quality Control manager of the day, whose name was Elizabeth.
Darcy did as he was told and replied, with a deadpan expression, “I see ice cream.”
“It’s Marble Fudge!” she said sternly. “The fudge should be evenly swirled throughout the container. If there is too much, or not enough, or if it is not properly distributed, then the product is rejected.”
“Who would care about such a thing? Children get a Marble Fudge to eat, not to look at it.”
“We care about our quality, Mr. Darcy!” She now had her hands on her hips. “So, what is your verdict?”
He lifted the carton up and took a quick glance. “Seems fine to me.” Then he tossed it back onto the lab bench with a bang, accidentally knocking other cartons of ice cream around, splashing half-melted ice cream everywhere.
She jumped away, but some of the ice cream got onto her face and clothes. “That’s no way to treat our beloved creations,” she exclaimed, clearly annoyed. “Not to mention the mess you’ve made of the lab and of my clothes.”
“I can help you clean up.” He pushed her down to sit on the bench, then leaned over to lick a smear of vanilla from her nose.
She tried to shove him away, but he had his arms wrapped tightly around her.
“I’ll report you to the authorities!” she cried.
“Report away,” he murmured, and sucked a drop of chocolate ice cream from her earlobe.
A shiver ran through her body, and she braced her hands against his broad chest. “Mmm,” she moaned, “I think I’ll sell the story to the press instead.”
He lowered his mouth to taste the strawberry ice cream on her smooth throat. “I can pay you far more to keep your mouth shut.”
Her head dropped back as she chastised him. “I’ll tell your wife that you played nooky at work.”
“My wife is playing nooky with me now.” Grinning, he parted her legs and positioned himself between them. Then he pulled down the neckline of her shirt, baring her gorgeous breasts. He used both hands to squeeze them hard, and said, “These cherry ice cream cones are in perfect shape. They will definitely pass my QC.”
Capturing one hardened nipple between his teeth, he devoured the cherry, making her moan more loudly. Sticking out his tongue, he brushed it over her pink skin. Then his hands abandoned her bosom and headed south, busily unzipping his trousers and ripping off her panties.
“What kind of community service is this?” Elizabeth demanded weakly, slipping her hands into his trousers to grab his tight bottom. “Why should you get to enjoy your judicial punishment?”
He raised his hand and glanced quickly at his watch. “The official sentence ended fifteen minutes ago,” he said, and lowered her to lie flat on the bench top. “Now the unofficial sentence and taste-testing begins.” With that last word, he grabbed her hips and thrust his manhood into her hot entrance.
“Ah!” she screamed in delight. Her hands flew out to grasp the bench, upsetting more ice cream onto their bodies in the process. She felt his thick, rock-like shaft impale into her sensitive inner muscles again and again, scorching every pore in her passage, spreading the fire from her core down to her thighs and toes, and up to her belly and breasts.
“Yes!” she cried out as he continued to rapidly grind his shaft against her womb. His hands flew to her twin peaks, fondling and kneading them vigorously.
When he lowered his head and used his mouth to nip up a large mouthful of Marble Fudge and push the icy, creamy liquid between her lips, it tipped her over the edge.
The chilled fluid made the muscles inside her mouth tremble, resonating with the inner convulsions she experienced as she crested to her peak. Her legs wrapped tightly around his hips, sealing his cold belt buckle against the feverish muscles of her inner thigh.
As she arched her body up, he yelled out loud and spilled his burning seed into her.
Oh, what a tasting! Darcy wanted to try more flavors, preferably in a variety of positions. The thought made him hard entrance and turned her over.
A passion-weakened Elizabeth found that she was in for another amazing temperature treatment. Her naked breasts were now pressed against the cold lab bench, while her buttocks were pounded repeatedly by her husband’s sweaty, burning body. Yet again, she was amazed by how he managed to last and last in order to bring her to peak after peak of pleasure.
The billionaire convict William Darcy was seen departing from Ice Cream Vision three hours after he was supposed to have finished his community services. He left the premises grinning, in the arms of his wife, Elizabeth Darcy, who was believed to be the local woman originally at the centre of that fight with Wickham. The Darcys married six months after the assault.
People demanded an investigation into Darcy’s sentencing. They suspected that bribery was involved in having him assigned for community service at an organisation started up by his wife in Meryton. Will this odd job for the rich boy teach him to better control his anger in future? Only time will tell.
The Meryton Weekly
What if Mr. Darcy participated in a reality show?
“William, please? Please! Have I ever asked you for a favour?” Georgiana Darcy clung to her brother’s arm, shaking it and pleading with him.
“Georgie, you ask me for favours every day.” Darcy was busy reading a scientific report, and didn’t look up at her.
Georgiana grabbed hold of his report, thrust it aside and said, “But this is my first job! Lady C is so kind to have given me the job of Production Assistant. This is her new quiz show. Please! What will you lose by agreeing to compete?”
“What kind of quiz show is it again? And the name?”
“I don’t know the details yet. Lady C just asked me to find four celebrity participants who have a good general knowledge of life. She said they would be paired up with four ‘normal’ participants. The four pairs compete for half an hour for each of three episodes. The winners will get a prize. The losers will have a little bit of a joke played on them. It will be shown on Channel 12 next season at 9.30 pm on Tuesday nights. And the points you earn will be converted to cash and donated to the charity of your choice.”
“Your aunt has produced a lot of rubbish, through the years, and Channel 12 generally broadcasts stupid shows. Can you imagine what my fellow researchers would say if they saw me on a stupid quiz show?”
“But you’re helping charity – and your family! Lady C said she’s had a difficult year, and I’m new in the business. If I do a good show, I might be invited to work on something bigger and better, like 'When the Maiden Meets the Prince'.”
“I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with this show. You’re rich and elegant, and you can have any European prince you care to name.”
“But it’s like pairing Cinderella with Prince Charming. I’ll be the fairy godmother.”
“Why you would want to be a fairy godmother is beyond me!” He sighed. “Who have you persuaded, so far?”
“I got Charles and Richard. I just need you and one more.”
“Well, at least Charles and Richard will share in the embarrassment.”
She beamed. “Thank you! Here’s the contract. You can ask your lawyer to have a look, but once you sign it, no backing out, understood?”
“Just get out of my study now. I need to finish reading that report.”
Lydia Bennet was badgering her sisters in much the same way, on the phone.
“Come on, Jane and Lizzy, you have to help me. This is my big break in TV, my first PA job. What’s so difficult about being on a quiz show? You two are the intelligent ones.”
“9.30 pm on Channel 12 is the doggy bit, Lydia. You know their shows aren’t my kind of shows,” Elizabeth said.
“But Lady C is reputable for serious productions. She made The Strongest Link and Sale of the Decade. Do you really think she would do anything too stupid? And she said she needed someone with good general knowledge about life.”
“So?” Elizabeth was still uninterested.
“Jane, I heard from the other PA that Charles Bingley would be on the show.”
“Oh, then we’re lost!” Elizabeth exclaimed.
“Why did he agree to do it?” Jane asked. Jane had exchanged goo-goo eyes with Bingley throughout his stay at the Bennet Outback Resort in Boobie Hill, two months earlier.
Things had been heating up when Bingley was suddenly called back to Sydney on business. They still kept in touch via email and phone, but they hadn’t been able to see each other again since his departure.
“He is a family friend of Lady C, apparently. You don’t want to miss a chance to get cozy with him again,” Lydia said.
“How long will it be?” Jane asked.
“We’ll be filming on a small island in Fiji. That’s an additional incentive to compete. We’ll stay there for a week. Imagine! A week on a romantic island with Charles Bingley. And the winners and participants will be given prizes, too.”
“Does that mean that Darcy the Bighead will be there, too?” Elizabeth recalled her run-in with Darcy during his stay with Bingley. Darcy had met her at a party, where he had the audacity to say that she was ‘only tolerable, not pretty enough to dance with.’ For the remainder of his stay, Elizabeth had challenged his opinions at every opportunity, which was pretty often since Jane had liked to drag Elizabeth along when she first met up with Bingley.
Lydia replied, “Darcy? I don’t know. He is a boring scientist with such a high IQ that he’s sure to win if he competes. I don’t think Lady C would want him on her show.”
“Lizzy, please, do say you will go with me,” Jane pleaded. “You don’t know any of the other participants?”
Elizabeth asked.
Lydia crossed her fingers and said, “Not yet”. There’s no need to tell Lizzy I’ve asked cousin Collins, too. She’ll blow a gasket if she gets paired up with him.
When the eight participants met at the plane to Fiji, there were some happy and some not-so-happy reunions.
Jane and Charles were so delighted to see each other, they practically jumped into each other's arms. They stuck together, ignoring everyone else, most of the time.
Darcy was furious with Georgiana for not telling him that Caroline the Climbing Ivy would be there, too. On the other hand, he was ecstatic to see Elizabeth the Little Hottie again. He’d had the hots for her ever since he stayed with Bingley at her family resort.
Elizabeth had half-expected Mr. Bighead, so she was not very surprised at seeing him, but she was livid with Lydia for inviting Collins the Sticky Gum. She was sure the week would be a torture, because Collins always imagined himself to be in love with her, and stuck to her, every chance he had. Her only consolation was that Charlotte, her best friend, was also there. The only contestant she didn’t know was Richard Fitzwilliam. He seemed to be a friendly guy, so there might still be some joy left in the week.
They were each given a simple bungalow. For just three episodes of TV, the production company sure spent a great sum of money, Elizabeth thought.
After settling in, everyone gathered at the resort’s ballroom, which had been turned into a TV studio with a lot of props and many people working.
Lady C announced, “Thank you for joining our show. Just a word of warning – anything you say or do in the studio will be filmed. We will use some of the more interesting bits as bloopers, so think before you say or do anything stupid here. But, of course, we won’t be filming outside.
“Now, on to the details. You will be the first participants on our show. There will eventually be nine episodes, and you will compete in three of them. We will film here three times, with two different sets of participants after you folks.
“The format of our show is very simple. We pair you up into four groups, and then you answer some questions, play some games and do some role-playing. All of you will receive a small personal prize for participating, and your points will be converted into cash to be donated to a charity of your choice. The final winner of the third episode will win a prize of two nights at the next island. Before any of you say that you’re too busy for the prize, I have asked our PAs to clear your calendar for two more nights, in case you win. The losers, however, will receive a ‘torture’.”
“Torture!” all of the participants exclaimed.
“Lydia, you didn’t say anything about that!”
“Georgiana, I’m going to kill you!”
Lady C cleared her throat and said, when silence fell, “They didn’t know. The format of the show was a secret. Anyway, it's not a real torture, just a trick, like dumping cold water on you, that sort of thing.”
“Lady C, you never produced anything this stupid.”
“Darcy, shut up. This is not stupid. This is entertainment. As you may remember, we asked you to fill out a form of what you like and dislike. We'll be making you face your fear. You, for instance, hate spiders, so we may put a spider on you if you lose.”
People burst into laughter. No Spiderman, our Mr. Bighead, Elizabeth thought.
“Now, as to the pairings…”
Caroline waved her hand enthusiastically and said loudly, “I want to pair with Darcy!” Then Bill Collins moved near Elizabeth and yelled, “I’m here with my beautiful Lizzy.”
“Be quiet! The pairings and your costumes were decided when you selected your drinks just now. We have assistants watching here, so no exchange is allowed. As you see, all of the men have blue cocktail glasses and the women all have red ones. Now, if all of you will take the stirrer out and bite off the cherry, you will see a number there.”
“A penis-shaped stirrer! What sort of show are we on?”
“Shut up, Richard! Caroline Bingley, what is your number?”
“Four,” she replied reluctantly.
“All right, ‘four’ is for a costume from Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.”
“But, damn it, that’s ugly! I won’t dress in such ugly stuff.”
“William Darcy?”
“Three,” Darcy announced, and breathed a sigh of relief. At least, I won’t be paired up with the Climbing Ivy. It would be good to pair up with Little Hottie...
“‘Three’ is for Batman and Catwoman.”
“With the mask?”
“No, we want the audience to see your face. Jane Bennet, what is your number?”
“One.”
“‘One’ is for the Indian costume. Richard Fitzwilliam, what have you drawn?”
“Two.”
“‘Two’ is for ancient Greek costume.”
“Charlotte Lucas?”
“I’m with Richard, I have two.”
“Bill Collins?”
“Four. Can I change? I don’t want to be with this hyper lady here. I want my Lizzy.”
Good. Caroline and Bill deserve each other, Elizabeth thought. But that means I’m either with Charles or …
“Charles Bingley?”
“I’m with this angel! I got one.”
Yes! Darcy shouted in his mind, Little Hottie is with me!
“Show yours, Elizabeth Bennet!”
“I have three.” Elizabeth turned to look at Darcy. She hadn’t talked much with Mr. Bighead yet, but he had been staring at her during the whole trip to Fiji. I hope he’s as smart as he said. I don’t want any torture.
“I don’t like the pairing. I’ll quit if I’m not paired up with Darcy,” Caroline said petulantly.
“Miss Bingley, I warn you. You have signed the contract, agreeing to participate in the show. If you quit now, I can sue you. However, since I can’t allow any disruption to the filming, that is why I have security men and women here. For cases like this,” Lady C said. “Annesley, take Miss Bingley to the Number Four changing room and see that she changes into the required costume.”
“What are you doing? Let go of me!” Caroline was kicking and screaming. People couldn’t hide their laughter when they saw her carried over the shoulder of a strong, heavy-set security woman.
“Georgiana, you never said I would be handcuffed to Elizabeth and strapped to the seat!” Darcy said. His left hand was tied to Elizabeth’s right one.
“Lydia, why does this costume have so many seams? They seem to fall open at any time!”
“Quiet, everybody! Just be patient and all will be revealed. And now here’s our host, George Wickham.”
“Yuck! That slimy man.”
“Oh, I think he’s quite charming.”
“His charm is all fake.”
“Let’s begin the show. If you all calm down and answer the questions, you can get out of your handcuffs and costumes much faster.”
After a brief introduction, Wickham started the quiz.
“Name the location of one of the first two sperm banks in the world.”
Buzz!
“Richard and Charlotte?”
“Tokyo.”
“Correct. In which country did the oldest sex manual, Handbooks of Sex, originate?”
Buzz!
“Richard and Charlotte?”
“China.”
“Correct.”
“Hey Lady C, I thought this show was about general knowledge. Why are all of the questions about sex?”
“Cut! Darcy, you’re wasting everyone’s time. Isn’t sex a part of life?”
“Yes, but I’m a serious scientist. I refuse to participate in such a stupid show.”
“You can refuse to answer any question, but then you and your partner will lose and receive your torture in the end. It just shows your fellow scientists that you’re less knowledgeable than your playboy cousin.”
Richard groaned. “Now, Lady C, do you have to tell the world I’m a playboy? How can I chat up the pretty ladies here, if they know who I really am?” He flashed a grin.
“Shut up, Richard! Now that you know more about the show, we can tell you the name of it. Wickham!”
“Yes, my Lady. Welcome to Sexpert Challenge, a fun new show.”
“What? Sexpert Challenge!”
“How can I face my colleagues when it comes on air?”
“Damn!”
“Lydia, I’m going to kill you!”
“Georgie, you will be dead, too!”
“Let’s roll tape,” Lady C shouted.
Wickham resumed his questioning of the contestants. “Who was the author of Fanny Hill, Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure?”
Buzz!
“Darcy and Lizzy?”
“Henry Cleland.”
“Correct. According to The Sexual Anatomy of Woman by W. F. Benedict, a girl of fourteen has breasts weighing how many kilograms – 5, 7 or 10?”
Buzz!
“Charles and Jane?”
“7 kilograms.”
“Correct. Who was the actress who played Deep Throat?”
Buzz!
“Bill and Caroline?”
“Lindsey Lovelace.”
“Wrong. The correct answer is Linda Lovelace.”
“Fuck!”
“Cut! Caroline Bingley, mind your language. We can’t broadcast foul language.”
The quiz continued for several more minutes before Wickham announced, “We have now finished the first segment, ‘Foreplay’. Let’s recap. Richard and Charlotte are leading, at 70 points. Bill and Caroline are at the bottom with 50 points. Richard and Charlotte, you two get to choose the torture box for Bill and Caroline.”
“Fuck! Let me go! I don’t want to participate. I don’t want any torture.”
“Cut! Wickham just continue and ignore her. We will tape all her outbursts and show her worst moments later on the show.”
“Fuck! You can’t do that! I’ll get my lawyer to sue you if you show me in any bad way on TV.”
“My, my. I’m so afraid! Let’s roll the tape.”
Wickham cleared his throat. “Richard and Charlotte, which torture box would you like to inflict on them?”
“Charlotte, you choose.”
“Such a gentleman,” Wickham remarked.
“I hate Number 4, personally, So let’s inflict Number 4 on them.”
“Number 4? Let me see, it’s… Ah, yes. Let’s meet the cockroaches!”
The lighting in the room dimmed, and a spotlight shone on two cockroaches dangling down from the ceiling onto Bill and Caroline. Both of them screamed and tried to break away from their handcuffs or move off from their chairs.
But they were strapped securely in place, each with one hand cuffed to the partner. When the cockroaches were lowered onto their bodies, they both used their free hand to try to flick them away, but the strings attached to the cockroaches were very strong. The contestants’ screams were deafeningly loud.
Luckily, the torture lasted for less than a minute. The strings were withdrawn, and the cockroaches ascended quickly toward the ceiling.
“Didn’t either of you notice that those cockroaches were only plastic?” Wickham asked, flashing a devilish grin.
Everyone in the studio except for Bill and Caroline broke into chuckles.
“Fuck! That’s not funny at all.”
“And now for the second segment of our game, ‘Arousal’. We have fitted each of you with a lie detector, and we will now ask you a question. If you answer truthfully, the light on the console in front of you will turn green, and a chime will sound. If you lie, the light will turn red, and something…interesting will drop down. Each one of you will be asked only one question. It’s really very easy. And now for our first question... Richard, have you ever had sex in your parent's bed?”
“No way!”
A rat dropped down onto Richard’s head. He jumped and yelled loudly.
“Just a fake rat. But what a naughty boy! Testing out your parent’s bed,” Wickham said. “Now, Charlotte, it’s your turn. Have you ever looked at men's underwear in a catalogue just to ogle the models?”
Charlotte hesitated before answering, “Yes.”
Ding! The light turned green.
“Good girl! And with a healthy appetite! Now Bill, have you ever been to a strip club?”
“No, I’m a teacher. I have to uphold…”
A cup of cream was dumped onto him.
“Hey, the lie detector didn’t work! I’ve never been to a strip club.”
“Admit it, man! There is nothing wrong about going to a strip club. Now, Caroline, have you ever had a cosmetic surgery?”
“Of course not!”
A bag of honey was dumped onto her. She screamed and cursed about the mess.
“Famous model with fake body parts! I wonder which part you had done. How unfortunate that I can only ask one question! Now, Charles, have you ever taken part in a threesome?”
“No, that’s gross.”
Ding!
“What a straight guy! Now, Jane, have you ever gone to work wearing no panties?”
“No way. I’m not that kind of girl.”
Ding!
“What an angel! Now, Darcy, have you ever fantasised about having sex with any of the women in this room?”
Darcy blushed. Should I tell the truth? “Yes.”
Ding!
“Who’s the lucky one?” Wickham asked.
Darcy only glared at Wickham.
William only knows me here. So he fancies me mad! I’ll visit his bungalow tonight, Caroline thought with satisfaction.
“Now, Elizabeth, have you ever had sex on a plane?”
“A member of the ‘mile high’ club? No, I haven’t had the privilege of joining it yet.”
Ding!
“Let me tell you how to register as a member, after the show.” Wickham winked at her.
Elizabeth smiled calmly, but Darcy wanted to punch his dirty mouth.
Then next round of the quiz continued. At the end of the first day of shooting, Darcy and Lizzy discovered that they had won. Bill and Caroline lost again, and were treated to the latest torture, as two bags of cold water were dropped onto their heads. That sent them into squeals, while everyone else laughed.
“The winners of the first episode, Darcy and Lizzy, will be rewarded with a treat. Which lucky pouch would you like?”
“Elizabeth, you choose.”
“No, you answered most of the questions,” she said to Darcy. “You choose.”
“Hey now, Darcy and Lizzy, always so polite, how about I choose for you?” the flamboyant Richard offered, barging in.
Darcy glared at him and nudged Lizzy’s arm. “Number 3, please,” Lizzy said.
“Lucky Pouch 3. Let me see… Ah! A full body massage with Fiji’s miracle rocks.”
“Good, I can use a massage,” Elizabeth said.
The straps on the chairs were loosened for Darcy and Elizabeth, but they were still handcuffed to each other on one hand as they were led to their changing room.
“Hey, Lady C, why is the camera still rolling? I thought you said you wouldn’t be filming us outside of the studio. And why are we still handcuffed together?”
“The treat is part of the show. Of course we’ll be filming it. What is your problem? There is nothing objectionable about being filmed while you’re given a massage.”
Darcy glared at her, but she ignored him. The changing room was set up with a double bed behind a screen. Darcy and Elizabeth moved to sit on the bed.
“Annesley, help them take off the clothes,” Lady C instructed.
“Hey, I don’t need help. Just take off the handcuffs and I can do that myself,” Elizabeth said.
“Miss Bennet, the handcuffs won’t be taken off until we finish the day’s filming. That is why we fitted you with costumes that have so many seams. It is much easier to tear them off. We won’t film you naked, don’t worry. The crew will stay behind the screen until you settle face down on the bed with towels covering your bottoms.”
“Lady C, this is the dumbest thing you have ever done! How can you involve Georgiana and me in such a scheme? I don’t want this so-called treat! I just want to go back to my room and rest.”
“Shut up, Darcy. You have no choice. Annesley, move!”
The heavy woman came to tear off Darcy’s costume first. He tried to fend her off but she was strong. After the leather top and trousers were torn away, she placed her hands on the waistband of his jockey shorts.
“Hey, I can get a massage with my underpants on!”
Rip!
The underpants were torn off, as well. Darcy flopped immediately onto the bed, face down, to hide his manhood, pulling Elizabeth down at the same time.
Elizabeth, who had observed him being stripped, was highly amused at first, and quietly amazed that he sported such six packs on his broad torso. She hadn’t paid much attention to him after his arrogant remarks, but his thighs were strong and muscular. His whole body was a surprisingly healthy tan colour. She had expected him to be pale and sickly, as a nerdy scientist was supposed to be…but then, when she caught a glimpse of his manhood, she had swallowed hard. One way or the other, it looks as if I gave him a most appropriate nickname. What a really BIG head! And his butt, so tight!
She was concentrating too much on Darcy’s body to notice that Annesley had moved on to her. The big woman tore off Elizabeth’s leather top, exposing the red bikini bra underneath. To spare herself further embarrassment, Elizabeth laid face down beside Darcy and let Annesley remove the rest of her clothing from behind.
Darcy felt his arousal building when he saw her gorgeous breasts cupped in the red bikini top. Unfortunately, she laid face down when Annesley stripped her naked, so he didn’t get to see more of her lovely breasts. But he couldn’t keep himself from watching her taut creamy bottom. All too soon, their lower bodies were covered with towels. Then the camera crew and the Fijian masseurs came in.
Elizabeth and Darcy were treated with fragrant oil and experienced hands that kneaded and rubbed. Then several hot rocks were placed on their backs.
Unconsciously, they turned their faces toward each other, peeking through half closed eyes at each other’s naked flesh. Darcy’s gaze focused on her creamy peak shaking against the bed while Elizabeth’s eyes rested low on his body, taking in his tight butt under the towel. They each fantasized about what they wanted to do with the other’s bodies.
Elizabeth tried to be stern with herself. Remember, Mr. Bighead thought you were not pretty enough! What a pity! I wouldn’t mind testing his big equipment. Truly, it’s not a sin to lust after a condescending man…
Darcy, too, was giving himself a lecture. Remember, Little Hottie has a tacky family! What a pity! I wouldn’t mind shagging her for days. Truly, it’s not a crime to ache for an unsuitable woman…
“Cut!”
It was a relief for Darcy and Elizabeth when the camera crew and the masseurs left the changing room. The massage was relaxing but the presence of others and the sexual tension between them was stressing.
In her hurry, Annesley dumped the key of the handcuff and Darcy and Elizabeth’s normal clothes on the double bed, then left without releasing them.
When the door slammed shut, Darcy was the first to move. He moved to his knees on the bed, dislodging the small towel covering his butt.
Elizabeth eyes widened when she caught sight of his naked flesh again. When Annesley had removed his clothes earlier, she had already thought he was big, but he seemed to have grown even larger during the massage. How can he have an arousal just from lying there? Was it the massage that aroused him, or me?
She saw him searching among the clothes. Then she heard him moan and noticed that he had grabbed hold of her red lacy bra, instead of the key to the handcuff.
He dangled the intimate apparel in front of her eyes and said, “Very sexy!”
She turned to grab the bra from him, then realized that the move was a mistake, for she saw his eyes widen as his gaze zeroed in on her breasts and then moved lower to the dark triangle at the apex of her thighs.
Anxious to get away from his voracious gaze, Elizabeth tugged the bra harder, accidentally pulling Darcy off-balance and he tumbled down onto her half-turned body. She now had this big impressive man on top of her, with one of his hands linked to hers with a lacy bra and the other linked with a handcuff. His rigid arousal pressed against her hip, and his long legs tangled with hers.
The impact gave her an electric shock. She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself, but that made things even worse. The aroma of warm coconut oil and the musky scent from his body flooded her nostrils, and the expansion of her chest made her touch his more closely. His torso was smooth from the oil and the sweat. The pressure of the hard muscle instantly made her nipples peak.
They exchanged a hungry look, and then meshed their mouths together for a sizzling kiss. Their tongues duelled in rapid movements, and their hands hastily explored each other’s bodies. Darcy hadn’t let go of the lacy bra. He rubbed Elizabeth’s body through it, giving the caress an additional dimension of sensation for both of them. He was extremely fond of her breasts. He weighed the creamy globes and rubbed the nipples with his fingers fervently.
With one hand restricted by the handcuff, Elizabeth moved her other hand to explore his back and taut butt cheeks, squeezing and sizing every bit of his big body.
In the course of the exploration, she settled on her back, with him fully on top. His hard shaft found its way between her thighs and teased her secret lips. She moaned out loud and nearly came in that instant. Then a voice broke through her ecstasy, and she heard him asking, “Elizabeth, are you safe?”
“Safe?”
“Yes, are you on pill? I’ve no condom.”
“Damn! No!”
“Damn!”
They hugged each other tightly for a moment, and then broke away as if they had been scorched by fire.
Darcy rolled from her body and lay on his back.
Both of them took deep breaths.
After endless minutes, Elizabeth moved to find the key.
She removed the handcuff and rose to put her clothes on with her back to him.
When she turned back to look at him, his eyes were closed and he was still breathing hard. He had pulled his shorts over to cover his manhood.
“You’re okay?”
“Can we wait and talk after dinner?” He asked.
“I guess so.”
“You go first. I still need a few more minutes.”
With a last lingering look at him, she left the changing room.
When Elizabeth walked into the dining room, she felt awkward. It was one thing to lust after an arrogant man you didn’t like, but to nearly have sex with him while handcuffed together was another; and they hadn’t talked much since meeting again for the show.
I hope he won’t think of me now as a loose and easy woman who jumps into bed with just anyone. Will he ask me to spend the night with him? Should I or shouldn’t I?
With that troubling thought in mind, she put on her most serious and distant look when her gaze clashed with his across the dinner table. He was sitting there with a closed expression. Caroline was all over him on one side, and Richard on the other.
Elizabeth sat down in the only seat available, between Charlotte and Jane. They greeted her cheerfully and asked, “How was the massage? Did you enjoy it?”
She couldn’t help but blush and murmured, “So so.” She glanced at Darcy, not sure if he had heard their question.
Apparently so; she could see that he was blushing, too. To divert the group’s attention, she asked in turn, “Where’s Lydia? I want to chew her out royally for landing us all on this ridiculous show.”
“Both your sister and Georgie are hiding from us,” Richard said from across the table. “I was going to bite Georgie’s head off when I next saw her; but then I thought, if not for her, I wouldn’t have met all the lovely ladies from Boobie Hill.”
“I can’t imagine what sort of silly games they will have tomorrow. As a teacher, I feel that it’s highly improper for me to engage in stupid games. If it weren’t for my sweet Elizabeth, I wouldn’t ...” Collins said.
“At least it will be good for the business. They mentioned the Bennet Outback Resort several times when they introduced Jane and Lizzy,” Charlotte said, cutting off Collins when she saw that Elizabeth was embarrassed by his endearment.
“Darcy, you have to tell us – who’s the lucky lady you fancy?” Richard asked.
Caroline, who had one hand on Darcy’s shoulder and another on his arm, sat up straight. Seeing Darcy turned bright red, she came to his defence. “Mr. Playboy, it’s none of your business who Darcy fancies.”
“I see, Miss Ivy, that you don’t delude yourself into thinking that Darcy fantasises about you.”
“Miss Ivy? Delusion? What do you know about my relationship with William?”
“Isn’t your nickname Climbing Ivy? I thought Dar… Ouch!” Richard yelped in pain. “Who kicked me?”
“I didn’t know you were afraid of rats, Richard,” Bingley said, diverting the attention from his sister.
“My torture was nothing. Imagine mixing honey, cockroaches and fake breasts together! It will make for the most interesting gossip when the show airs.”
“Richard Fitzwilliam, if you say one more time that I have anything fake, I’ll sue you!” Caroline swore.
“Aren’t those fake eyelashes that you have there?” Everyone except Caroline broke out into chuckles. “Charles, can your sister sue me if what I said is true?”
“Leave her alone, Richard.”
“But she barged into my conversation with my cousin, not the other way around. Now Darcy, fess up, who’s the lady?”
Richard elbowed Darcy and then suddenly snapped his fingers and said, “I know! Is it Lady C? Did you have a Mrs. Robinson fantasy about her when you were young?”
On hearing that outrageous speculation, Darcy choked on his wine and started to cough, glaring at his cousin.
Elizabeth burst out laughing. “Richard, you really are too funny!”
“Funny? Miss, I think you have no taste at all. Mr. Playboy’s gross to imply that William might ever have such a thought.” Caroline said.
“Oh, Caroline, relax! Richard is our resident comic relief. Darcy and I are used to him.” Bingley said.
The banter and conversations continued, but no one was able to get a name from Darcy.
His plan to have a private conversation with Elizabeth was repeatedly foiled by Caroline, who kept close to his side all evening. When Elizabeth left to retire for the night, he thought about following her to her bungalow, but he still couldn’t shake Caroline off. In the end, he only managed to escape when he went to Richard’s room.
“How long will you be with Richard?” Caroline asked forlornly.
“A long time.”
“I brought you a present from Paris. I want to give it to you tonight.”
“Tomorrow’s fine.”
“What’s your room number? I can wait there for you. Maybe you can give me your key.”
Darcy shuddered and insisted, “Tomorrow.” He then escaped into Richard’s room and slammed the door shut.
Caroline was extremely vexed about the turn of events. She had thought she could force Darcy to reveal his fantasy tonight. She didn’t mind giving the man a taste of her fabulous body. This would be a small step towards her grand plan to become Mrs. Darcy.
Why did he have to retreat to that blasted playboy’s room? I wished I had paid more attention when they gave out room keys...
She was deep in her thoughts when she bumped into Annesley. “Hey, look where you’re going, big lady!”
“Sorry, Miss Matchstick!” Annesley retorted.
Caroline was ready to put Annesley in her place…but then she saw that she was carrying a clipboard of papers.
“Is that logistics? I need to talk to William Darcy about something urgent. Can you check his room number for me?”
“I’m not supposed to give out that sort of info.”
“Here’s $20. Just check!”
Such a nasty woman! “Keep your money, Miss. Luckily for you, I’m in a nice mood tonight. William Darcy? Let me check… Ah. Room 12.”
Caroline almost ran back to her room, forgetting the need to walk elegantly at all times. She decided to spend two hours to primp and perk her body up for the rendezvous with William. A facial, an orange-scented bath and a full-body oil treatment should do it. He was bound to be back to his room after two hours.
Knock or not? Better go through the balcony door. It’s so hot tonight, I’m sure he’ll have it open. And what a treat for him! Under the full moon, a perfectly toned body waiting to fulfill his every fantasy...
Caroline’s seduction plan was working out as well as she could possibly have wished. Under her sensual silk wrap, she wore only an orange see-through negligee. She wasn’t wearing a bra or panties. Why hide the perfect body when I had paid so much for it?
She was right on time, for once. And, to her immense satisfaction, she found the balcony door of Room 12 wide open. But before she could sneak in to present herself as a present to Darcy, she heard a woman moaning loudly.
“So, you fantasised about me all those times? Why didn’t you tell me earlier? No, don’t touch it like that. Do it like this. Yes! Thrust harder. I haven’t had an orgasm for decades…”
Caroline nearly fainted by the door! How could you, William! With that ancient witch, Lady C!
She crept on trembling legs off of the balcony, then ran back to her room as quickly as she could. After she slammed the door shut, she picked up the vase of flowers and threw it against the wall.
Her anger only subsided after she had smashed several other pieces of furniture in the room. Exhausted, she sat down on her bed. Can I ever forgive his transgression? I didn’t know he had a thing for old wrinkled woman.
The practical side of her responded, what’s the difference? He’s still loaded. You'll still have private jets, enormous yachts and all the designer clothes you want. The thought of all the beautiful designer clothing finally calmed her down. It’s worth it! She decided, then threw her tired body down on the soft mattress and went to sleep.
Outside the balcony of Room 12, a man sucked his cigarette hard, breathing in and out non-stop. It was his third consecutive one. He was unwilling to return to the bed. Such a demanding woman! Her skin was like sand paper! And her breasts sagged like hanging cucumbers! Such a lot of hard work, just for the position of a TV presenter! Damn!
Darcy was annoyed that he hadn’t been able to find a moment all morning to talk to Elizabeth again. Everyone was gathered in the studio, as the shooting would start soon.
“Dear boys and girls, new costumes for a new day,” Lady C said.
“What did she have for breakfast? She seems so cheerful this morning.” Richard whispered to Darcy. The latter shrugged, but Caroline, who was standing right next to them, heard their exchange and shuddered.
“Do we get to change partners?” Collins asked.
“Sorry, my dear, no such luck. You’re still stuck with Miss Supermodel. Now, all the gentlemen, please look under your coffee cups. There is a number written there. Richard, what number do you have?”
“Four.”
“That is the cowboy and cowgirl costume. Collins?”
“One.”
“That’s the lion and leopard costume.”
“Damn! Why do we always get the worst one,” Caroline pouted.
“Bingley?”
“Three.”
“That’s the Pirates of the Caribbean costume. And that means that Darcy got two. That’s the Regency costume. And now for our first game, ‘Practise The Shot!’”
Two temporary horizontal bars were set up in the studio, spaced 2 metres apart. The female contestants were behind one bar, the men behind the other, with each pair of contestants facing each other across the divide. Each person had both hands handcuffed to the bar but spread slightly apart, and they were tied with a string at their waist.
Another string soon dropped down from the front. On the men's side, a banana was tied at the end of this vertical string, touching the ground. On the women's side, a tube 8 cm (around 3 inches) in diameter with openings on both ends was hung from the string.
“The game’s really quite easy. Richard, Charles, Darcy and Bill, you just have to sway your body to swing the banana to hit the golf ball here into the tube of your partner. You’ll score 10 points when the shot goes through. Of course, the lovely ladies on the other side can help to receive the balls by moving slightly to position the tube better for your shot. We'll have an assistant put the golf ball in the mark right in front of the men, and another assistant on the women's side to keep the score. So let’s practise the shot!”
Elizabeth couldn’t help laughing at Darcy. Gone was the nerdy scientist look. Also gone was the hot batman look. Along with his pristine tight shirt, waistcoat, trousers and riding boots, there hung a funny-looking small banana. He swayed his hips left, right, forward and backward, in every possible angle, but the golf balls just wouldn’t cooperate. He sent some balls to Caroline’s side, some to Jane’s and one even as far as Charlotte’s.
“Look at Bill! Use your feet to help,” Elizabeth yelled to him.
“That’s cheating!”
“They didn’t say you couldn’t use your feet. Quick! Or we’ll lose.”
Darcy followed her instruction and used his feet to help kick the banana to hit the balls. Finally, he put some through the target, but they still lost the round to Bill and Caroline.
“Bill and Caroline, which torture box do you want to inflict on them?”
“No, no torture for my sweet Elizabeth!” Collins said.
“Yes, no torture for William,” Caroline added.
“Sorry, Bill and Caroline. We can’t break the rules. Darcy and Elizabeth, how about you two choose a number?”
“Three,” they said in unison, and looked at each other in surprise.
Wickham took out the note card from the torture box and said, “Oh, this is really no torture at all. Elizabeth, you just need to sit on Darcy’s shoulders while he jogs around the studio three times.”
“But I’m in Regency dress!” Elizabeth protested. “How can I sit on his shoulders?”
“Just hike it up. Do you want me to help?” Wickham asked, and winked.
“Let’s not waste time. Annesley, help her mount Darcy.” Lady C said, losing some of her cheerful countenance upon seeing Wickham’s flirty manner toward Elizabeth.
Elizabeth was hot and flustered. To hike up her dress indecently in front of millions of TV viewers was embarrassing enough. But, to top it off, Darcy was grasping her naked thighs too tightly. Despite that, she didn’t feel at all safe on her perch, because he was very tall. When he started to run, she felt as if she was sitting on top of a three-storey building, about to plunge to her death, so she bent her body lower and held tightly to his jaw, with her breasts practically resting on the top of his head.
In truth, Darcy had lost the game because he was so distracted by Elizabeth’s low neckline. Her gorgeous breasts almost spilled out of the dress every time she laughed or bowed down to receive his balls. Now he was hyperventilating from holding her creamy thighs steady on his shoulders and feeling her secret lips rubbing the back of his neck. To make things worse, she bounced her breasts against the top of his head at every stride and held his throat tightly. He felt like he was going to be suffocated. He just hoped that no one would notice his bulge in the tight trousers of his costume, or suspect the true reason why he ran so awkwardly. I may expire from the lack of oxygen, but my dead body will be fully aroused!
When the torture run was finally finished, he was eternally grateful for Annesley’s help in relieving him of Elizabeth, amid the chuckles of other people in the studio.
“Now for the second game: ‘Fill The Bottle.’ Blindfold the men, and then handcuff their hands behind their back!”
Once that was done, three special bottles were pinned onto various parts of the costume of each female contestant. The bottles were small and light, made of plastic so they didn’t weigh down the costume. The pin was moulded onto the waist of the bottle, leaving the top open and easily accessible.
“Ladies, here are some marshmallows. Place one between your partner’s teeth, then put your hands on top of your head and don’t drop them at any time. We will deduct 5 points if you do so. You can tell your partner where the bottles are and instruct them to push the marshmallows down the bottle. Each bottle must have at least one piece of marshmallow. Each one will earn 10 points. Any extras he can push in will earn him 5 additional points. If your partner drops the marshmallow, our assistant will give you another one to place between his teeth. That is the only time that you’re allowed to drop your hands from your head. Is that clear?”
“Bloody silly game!”
“So embarrassing!”
“I don’t want to play!”
“Shut up, every one! Now spin the men around and lead them near their partners!”
When Darcy was led near Elizabeth, she said, “Open your mouth! Here’s the marshmallow. I have one bottle near my right ni… chest, one near the… inside of my left thigh and one at the base of my spine. Which one do you want to try first?”
On hearing the locations of the bottles, Darcy eyes widened under the blindfold and he swallowed hard, accidentally gobbling the marshmallow down his throat.
“What did you gulp it down for? We’re losing precious time!”
“Sorry, give me another one quickly. Let’s start with your breast, uhm, chest.” He could feel blood cruising down his body. Sweat broke out on his forehead.
Elizabeth put another marshmallow between his teeth, then moved nearer. When his chest touched her body, he started crouching down a bit, as he was taller than her. First, his jaw touched her right shoulder. Then he went lower and traced his way farther down her body.
Soon, his jaw felt her nipple. So hard and firm! How I want to nibble on it! Don’t think of that. You will disgrace yourself in front of everyone. He was about to swallow again, but he remembered the marshmallow, so he stopped. Right underneath the nipple, he could feel the bottle.
To find the bottle opening, however, he had to lower his face onto her breast. He breathed in the scent of lavender; then, through the fabric, his nose grazed the hard tip of her nipple. He could feel his arousal cresting, and he froze.
“Drop it in!”
Elizabeth’s breathless words startled him from his sensual trance. He shuddered, mouth gaping slightly open, and dropped the marshmallow onto the floor.
“Not again!”
Without waiting for him to recover, Elizabeth grabbed another piece from the assistant and placed it between his teeth.
He still had his mouth near her nipple. “Quick! Push it into the bottle.”
Darcy obeyed, but the bottle opening had been specially made to be slightly smaller than the size of the marshmallow. He couldn’t just drop it in. Instead, he had to stick his tongue out and thrust the marshmallow into the opening.
As the bottle was dangling below her nipple, and her partner’s head was bowed there, Elizabeth couldn’t see whether he was successful. But she could feel the breath from his nose, blowing hot air onto her nipple. She then felt his mouth pushing down against the bottle, putting weight on her costume and stimulating her sensitive tip. She could also feel his tongue sticking out, grazing her peak as he thrust the marshmallow into the bottle. She could sense the heat gathering at her legs, making them trembled. She nearly dropped her hands from her head, because her whole body seemed to be on fire.
“Finally!” he said after pushing one in.
“Now, down to the bottle pinned on the inside of my left thigh,” Elizabeth said weakly and placed another marshmallow between his teeth.
Darcy crouched farther down. His nose and mouth traced from her right nipple diagonally down to her left thigh, leaving a hot path across her body.
The bottle was pinned to Elizabeth’s body in a most naughty way. Both the front and back panel of the dress were pinned together with the bottle, making the dress look like trousers. The bottle was hung about 10 cm underneath her womanhood, on the inside of her left thigh. She therefore had to stand with her legs wide open to allow Darcy’s head to move into position there. She could feel her panties growing wet as she sensed Darcy's nose and mouth near her sex.
Darcy was not doing much better. He breathed in her womanly scent, and he could feel the heat of her body rising through the fabric of her dress. The bottle was so close to her apex that he practically had to touch her there, in order to reach the opening of the bottle. After attempting several angles, he finally managed to stick the marshmallow into the opening.
Thrusting it down into the bottle itself posed more of a challenge. His tongue seemed to have developed a will of its own. It wanted to thrust upward toward her hot entrance, instead of down to the bottle. In the end, the tongue won over the mind, sliding over the fabric and across her secret entrance. He could imagine her lips separating under the relentless pressure of his tongue...
“What are you doing?” Elizabeth was shocked by his move and backed away, which sent him stumbling to sit on the ground. As if in slow motion, Elizabeth saw the marshmallow drop down from the opening of the bottle onto the ground.
“Damn! We’ll have to start all over again.”
Luckily, other contestants were not doing very well, either. At the end of the game, it was the team of Charles and Jane that lost the round, as Charles had been so distracted by Jane’s body that he’d dropped most of the marshmallows anywhere except inside the bottle. They were then treated to a torture: he had to do 20 push-ups with Jane riding on his back.
Another silly game was played, to conclude the second day of shooting. At the end of the day, Bill and Caroline won and were granted a mud spa. Charles and Jane lost and were treated to their final torture, with Charles jumping rope with Jane riding on his front – this time until they reached 50 jumps non-stop. Charles had no complaint, as he enjoyed shaking with Jane very much.
When Darcy entered the dining room, he was relieved to see that Caroline was not there. He gave Elizabeth a hot gaze. She was sitting with Jane and Charlotte again.
Richard greeted him. “Darcy, did you hear about Caroline?”
“What about her?”
“She had an accident in the mud spa, and the production company is taking her back to the mainland for emergency treatment.”
“I hope it’s not serious. Bingley, didn’t you want to go with her?”
“No, apparently she just needs the attentions of a plastic surgeon for a few hours.”
“A plastic surgeon?”
“Yes, it seems that one of her false body parts couldn’t stand the heat in the mud spa.” Richard winked and burst out laughing, “Sorry, Bingley. No offence to your sister, but I never knew fake breasts were so delicate. My medical knowledge seems to be seriously lacking. It’s just that I can imagine your response on seeing her with two different sizes.” With that, he turned aside to talk to Collins.
Most of the people around the table tried not to laugh, but they all had silly grins on their faces, even Bingley. The dinner atmosphere was much better without Caroline there, except for the constant fawning of Collins over Elizabeth.
When the dinner was finished, Darcy thought he might be doomed to another wasted day with no chance to talk to Elizabeth. Charlotte seemed to prefer talking to Collins more than Richard, tonight. She distracted Collins to the pool area but, unfortunately, Richard had Elizabeth’s attention. Darcy, however, was not going to give up so easily, so he followed them toward the beach.
He was jealous of the easy manner in which they joked, teased and chatted. Why is it that she does nothing but challenge me, when we were together? We never converse comfortably. Damn Richard! Always chatting up pretty girls and leaving them! His mood became darker and darker as they progressed further down the beach.
When Richard playfully splashed some water on Elizabeth, dampening her sundress and making her squeal and retaliate, Darcy found that he had had enough. After several frustrating days, seeing Richard flirting with his Elizabeth was simply too much. He grunted a good night and stormed off to his bungalow, refusing to become a third wheel
He took another cold shower, to cool down all his violent thoughts about Elizabeth and Richard, but instead found himself recalling the scenes of the past two days, just Elizabeth and him alone, he with all the liberty in the world to kiss, bite, lick and fondle her naked body.
Not surprisingly, the cold shower didn’t do much to lessen his arousal. He stalked out of the bathroom in a foul temper, naked and erect, only to come face-to-face with Elizabeth, who was tapping on the open balcony door and already had one foot in his room.
Elizabeth’s eyes widened like saucers upon seeing his raging asset. She opened her mouth and stuttered, “You… You said… you… wanted to talk, but you ran… off so suddenly from Richard and me…and so I…I…”
On hearing Richard’s name, Darcy's violent emotions returned in full force. He pulled Elizabeth into the room, slammed the door shut, and pressed her against the glass with a scorching kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth, pushing in and out, imitating the action he longed to apply her other entrance.
Elizabeth was unprepared for his violent reaction, but her body welcomed his rough ministrations. She wrapped her arms around his neck and used her tongue to play aggressively with his.
His hands tore open her damp, front-opening sundress, sending buttons flying. He then flipped open her bra, the better to fondle her twin peaks. Matching the thrusting rhythm of his tongue, his hands squeezed both of her breasts, hard and then softly.
Darcy was on fire. Kneeling, he pushed down her panties impatiently and threw them over his shoulder. Then his hands moved to worship her sex, pleasuring and wetting her. After a few minutes of rubbing, he could feel that she was ready for him. He rose and pulled her legs up to wrap them around his waist; then he lodged his huge manhood against her entrance and flexed his hips.
Despite her highly aroused state, she was very tight. He could only thrust into her a short ways before he had to slow down his tempo. He moved his hands to rub her breasts and folds, hoping the fondling would relax her.
Elizabeth moved her hands to rest on his shoulders and raised her body higher. Her legs also moved higher on his waist. Thanks to this new position, or to his continuous ministrations, or both, Darcy was able to push his thick shaft into her further. Her muscles engulfed him, giving him the greatest of pleasure. With one further mighty thrust, he drove himself right to the hilt. He could see her eyes roll back, and she let out a loud moan. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and her legs squeezed his waist.
He moved his hands to her creamy bottom. Urged on by her dreamy expression, he started to thrust in and out, faster and faster. The hard thumping sound against the glass balcony door matched their loud moans. After endless minutes of such frenzied mating, Elizabeth screamed out upon reaching her peak. Darcy thrust in and out a few more times before surrendering to the beguiling demands of her contracting inner muscles and spilling himself into her. The pulsing and orgasm lasted for a long, exquisite time.
When Darcy finally calmed down a bit, he moved away from the balcony door and collapsed onto the bed, carrying Elizabeth with him still. He then arranged her on top on him. She bent at her slender waist, pressing her breasts to his chest as he caressed her hair and back.
“Was I too rough?” he whispered to her ears.
“Wow! That was absolutely out of this world.”
“Yes, for me too. I have never had such a great climax in my whole life.”
The rough coupling and the sexual tension of the past two days had exhausted them both, and they soon drifted off to sleep.
Several times during the night, they awoke and pushed each other to more orgasms, more slowly and sweetly.
Near dawn, after they had savored another satisfying session of love making, Darcy said, “We didn’t used a condom the first time. I’ve never done that in my life. I’ve never slept with a woman without protection.”
“You were like an animal that had been starved for too long. And I haven’t chewed you out royally, yet, for licking me during the marshmallow game. What if they caught you on camera?”
“I couldn’t help it. They put on such naughty games, and I've had the hots for you for some time.” He shook his head in wonder. “Tonight is a record for me – six trips to heaven.”
“You’re lucky it was me. I don't think Caroline's fake body parts could withstand your continuous heat and pressure,” she said, and winked.
Darcy laughed out loud.
Elizabeth beamed. “You should laugh more often. You have dimples, and they make you look absolutely adorable.”
“Seriously, though...is it a likely time of the month for you to get pregnant?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been that good at keeping track of such things. I want you to know that you’re quite the exception; I have never slept with a guy I wasn’t in a relationship with. In fact, you’re only the third chap I’ve ever slept with.”
“I know you don’t sleep around. You’re not the type. And you’re so wonderfully tight. I was the irresponsible one here, making love with you without protection. I've been on fire for you ever since I stayed at your family resort, two months ago.”
Elizabeth raised her head in surprise. “But you said I was only tolerable, and not pretty enough to dance with!”
Darcy groaned and apologized. “I was being pigheaded then, because I didn’t want to go to Boobie Hill. I was very busy at that time, but all my friends and family said I had buried myself in my research for far too long, and they kicked me off to take the holiday with Bingley. I hadn’t even looked at you clearly when I made that snide remark. Not long after that, I found you amazingly attractive, smart, caring, funny…”
“Hey, no need for all the flowery words. You’ve already gotten into my pants.”
“So, would you move to Sydney with me, after we finish shooting here?”
“Move to Sydney! You’re moving way too fast. I found you condescending, only a few days ago…”
“What? How could you sleep with me if you didn’t even like me? I thought…”
“I told you that you were an exception. I guess I started lusted after you when I saw your big…asset during the massage. I couldn't help myself, even if you had looked down on all of us when you were at our Resort.”
“Your mother was money-grabbing. She pushed Jane and Lydia shamelessly at Bingley and me. And your three younger sisters were trashy. Of course, you and Jane are totally different. To be honest about it, I never wanted to be associated with a tacky family…but I would be, for you.”
Elizabeth stared at him, furious. Then she left the bed and pulled her clothes on quickly. Legs apart, hands on hips, she snapped, “You’re the most arrogant and conceited man I have ever had the misfortune to meet and sleep with. No one can choose their family. I know my mother and sisters are loud and trashy, but I love them just the same. Do you mean to forbid me from seeing my family if I move to Sydney with you? Do you think all the money in the world could induce me to abandon them? Dream on! If you don’t like my tacky family, you had better pray that you didn’t make me pregnant. Otherwise, young Master High-and-Mighty Darcy Junior will have tacky origins, too.”
“Elizabeth, you mistook me. I’m not good at words…”
Darcy sprang up from the bed and tried to detain her, but she shook him off and stormed out of his room with a loud bang on the balcony door.
He sank down onto the bed, held his head in his hands, and groaned. Stupid man! Why did you have to put your foot in your mouth? Admit that you will willingly house 10 of her trashy family members if you can have her as your girlfriend. Clearly, neither your money nor your bedside manner move her. She only bedded you because she wanted to test your equipment. No love lost there. She loves her family with a passion, and you just trampled them into the ground. And she may be carrying your little junior. Damn. Damn!
Caroline was gone for a day. Luckily, the shooting could afford to stop for a day, as the production team needed to work on the props for Episode 3.
She came back in the foulest mood. Her quick trip to the mainland to salvage the right implant had only been marginally successful. Now her breasts were slightly unbalanced, to her critical eye.
She also came back to find Darcy in a terrible mood. He wouldn’t talk with anyone, except to growl or frown. And, of course, she couldn’t put her seduction plan into action that night, as the new breast might not survive another puncture.
By the time the next morning came, she was numbered among the people who were in a dreadful mood.
Darcy and Elizabeth’s tempers were shocking. He desperately wanted to explain his affection to her and plead with her again to come live with him. She was severe with herself for sleeping with Mr. Bighead without protection and then enjoying his lovemaking again and again throughout the night.
Her frame of mind darkened when she was shoveled into a big hotel suite with Darcy and a few assistants. She was then helped into a sexy French maid outfit while he donned a normal business suit with a waistcoat. She knew the role-play would be ghastly! She needed to get her hands on Lydia so that she could kill her.
The costume featured a flame-red corseted short skirt and a deep v-neck, black lace accents along the hem, trim and detailed side-lacing, garters, back zipper, ruffled lace panties, black ruffled lace sleeve bands with a red bow accent, black thigh-high fishnet stockings, white lace cap and white apron, a black feather duster and a pair of 4-inch high heels.
The assistant told them that the day’s challenge would be shot individually, inside several suites. An hour before their session, the assistants would come back to set up the lighting and explained the rules to them. For the time being, however, they would leave, locking them into the suite to relax.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. How can I relax in this sexy Frenchmaid gear, with a big bed and Mr. Bighead within arm’s reach?
Once the assistants were gone, Darcy took Elizabeth’s hands, knelt in front of her and said, “Elizabeth, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken about your family like that. I’m …awkward with strangers and I’m… socially inept. That’s why Georgiana, Richard and Bingley always push me into big social functions, in the hope it will smooth out my rough edges. I I…like you a lot. I want to spend more time with you. I’ll try my best to get to know your family. Will you give me another chance? I can take a few days off, after the shooting. May I come and stay with you? Then we could get to know each other a bit better.”
Elizabeth wanted to shake him off, at first. But since he was apologizing, she let him continue. He did look sincere in his apology, and the fact that he was willing to come back to stay with her family again won him a huge brownie point. Is he worth the time? She looked him in the eye, and saw his anxiety and eagerness. Of course, he is smart and handsome. He’s nice to his friends and family. He just didn’t smile and didn’t talk with other people enough. And he’s so damn hot in bed!
“All right,” she conceded, “you may consider yourself to be on parole here. But one wrong move and I’ll send you packing.”
Darcy was so happy that he hugged her tightly and gave her the silliest grin. “And if I behave well, you will think about moving to Sydney with me soon? I’ll never forbid your family coming or you visiting them.”
“It’s way too early to think about that. Let’s see how we go for a few months before we talk about moving in together.”
Her reply put a dent in his happiness, but he reasoned that it was still a big step better than the day before.
He tried not to look at her, as she was so damn sexy in the French maid costume. They held hands and chatted comfortably for about an hour, until the production crew came in again.
“All right, we’re ready for you now. This is a role-play where we won’t give you any script. You two will walk into this set and we’ll have an actor here to play along with you. Denny here has a script about a scenario and he will prompt you on, but we won’t tell you what the scenario is until you walk in. If you find the role-play too silly and don’t say a word, you will lose the game and end up with a torture. The wittier and cheekier your role-play, the more points you will earn. We won’t ask you to do anything indecent. After all, we’re bound for free-to-air TV. We will show everyone’s role-play tomorrow. You can vote for your favourite one then. We have also invited some other people to judge the role-plays. All the scores will be added together to decide the winner. In the event of a tie, another role-play will be shot.
“Ok, ready? Let’s roll the camera for episode 3 with Darcy and Elizabeth.”
When Darcy and Elizabeth walked onto the set, Denny came forward, shook their hands and said, “Good that you’re here, Darcy and Elizabeth!”
“Thanks,” they replied.
“Okay, you two sit on the bed. Let me look at your CVs.”
Denny then sat on one of the chairs, a bit farther from the bed, “Husband and wife porn stars! How many porn movies have you two made together?”
Both Darcy and Elizabeth were speechless. They looked at each other. What kind of role-play was this?
Elizabeth recovered first and said, “Umh…Six. We’ve made six movies together.”
“Great! Tell me your six favourite positions then. I mean privately, not in the movies. You still shag each other privately, I suppose?” Denny winked.
Darcy was still speechless, so Elizabeth replied, “Oh, the other …night we had the …traditional missionary position, doggie style …woman on top …standing up, on the side and 69 position.” She turned bright red, thinking back to what they had done, the other night.
“Wow, you two sure know how to practise. So, Darcy, which parts of Elizabeth’s body do you like most?” Denny was scripted to get responses from both participants, and so he directed the question to him.
“Umh…the chest. Definitely her chest,” Darcy said, glancing sideways at Elizabeth’s barely contained breasts in the corset.
“What do you like about her breasts?”
“Umh…very firm…and soft to sq…touch.”
“Are they good to suckle?”
Darcy turned bright red and wanted to explode. Silly game! I’m going to kill Georgie! “Yeah,” he replied in a barely heard voice.
“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Do you like to suckle Elizabeth’s breasts?”
“Yes!”
“And what do they taste like?”
Darcy wanted to smash Denny’s head. He replied reluctantly, “Strawberry.”
“I can see a good glimpse of her breasts here, but not the strawberries. What a pity!” Denny joked and received a glare from Darcy.
“So, this is a production about a French aristocrat taking advantage of his maid. Darcy, you stated on your CV that you speak French. Use the formal tense, as you’re the master. Can you give me a few dirty lines?”
“Umh…Ouvrez vos pattes.”
“Open your legs!” Denny translated. He must have been selected to host the role-play because he could speak French. “Good. A few more?”
“Repliez sur la table.”
“Bend over the table! Excellent! How about ‘You have big tits’?”
“Il y a du monde au balcon.”
“Cool. Now, Elizabeth, it says here that you don’t speak French, right?’
“Correct.”
“Pas de problème. No problem. Here is the script for the screen test.”
“Cut! Okay, we’ll give you 10 minutes to read the script. You don’t need to memorize it as actors are allowed to hold scripts when they do a screen test. When you’re supposed to carry out an action – for instance, if there is kissing involved – you don’t actually need to kiss if you don’t want to, I suppose, but for a real-life screen test, of course, a real kiss would be needed. We know you’re just participants on this game show, so you may not be comfortable with all of the acts written there,” the producer said.
As Darcy and Elizabeth read the script, their faces grew redder and redder.
The next day, Darcy was sitting next to Elizabeth, holding her hand under the table. They had spent another steamy night together after their role-play. Now they were gathered with the others at the resort’s ballroom to look at and vote for the clips from the role-plays. Besides the eight participants, some TV crew members had also been asked to be part of the judging panel.
Lady C said, “As you’ll recall, those participants who didn’t have a script for their segments were prompted by our hosts. Even when we gave the participants scripts, some didn’t follow them. There is a score sheet in front of you. Please rate their performances according to how witty, sexy, funny, and entertaining you find the role-plays. First up are Caroline and Collins. Their role-play is entitled ‘Collins Collins Pumpkin Eater.’”
When the film rolled, the audience could see Caroline, wearing a sexy orange bikini, kicking and screaming as she was placed inside a large, semi-transparent orange pumpkin shell. Collins stood to one side, wearing a farmer’s costume. The host for the segment was Wickham.
“Farmer Collins, I’m Reporter Wickham from Agricultural Australia Monthly. I see you have grown a special pumpkin for this year’s Agricultural Show. Indeed, you appear to have made your wife into a pumpkin. Why did you do that?”
“She likes to wander… . She shags with Richard there all the time,” Collins said stiffly.
“What? Why would he mention me there?” Richard protested. “Is he reciting from a script?”
The film rolled on. “What sort of fertilizer do you use to make her grow?” Wickham asked Collins.
“Well…mmm…dog shit, cow manure, mmh…food scraps… You know. The normal sorts of fertilizer,” Collins continued.
“How does she react to such rich fertilizer?”
“She loves it. She has to have it twice a day, every day of the week.”
“No wonder she has grown to such a size. We have some cow manure here. Can you show us how to apply it?”
Wickham handed Collins some dark-looking stuff, which the latter splashed and dumped onto Caroline.
“Stop it! Stop it! This is gross!” Caroline screamed. She was definitely not following a script. Her head and face were marred with the dark-hued shit.
“Miss Pumpkin Caroline, what’s so gross about it?” Wickham asked.
“Get this yucky stuff off of me! Why do I have to partner up with this toad? Why can’t I have a nicer outfit? I’ll sue your pants off, bloody Lady C!”
Lady C interrupted the film and said to the group, “Don’t worry about that last bit. It will be cut out.”
“Interesting! Farmer Collins, your pumpkin can talk back. She called you a toad. Should you do something about her?”
“Yes. This pumpkin is…very annoying. It doesn’t know how to stop talking. Let me try rolling and spinning her around.”
Collins proceeded to rotate the pumpkin with Caroline trapped inside.
“Stop, you toad! I’m going to throw up!” she screamed.
“Farmer Collins, I have heard that, despite your constant arguments with Miss Pumpkin Caroline, you’re in fact very fond of her. Some neighbours tell me that you love your unfaithful wife very much. They saw you pampering her. Can you show us how you do that?”
Wickham handed Collins a broom, which Collins used to brush Caroline from head to toe, mashing the fake manure all over her face. Then a bucket of water and a toilet brush were handed to him. He proceeded to pour the water all over her and brush her down.
“I’m going to kill you…” she threatened shrilly.
Their role-play continued for a few more minutes. At the end, Collins peeled off Caroline’s bulky pumpkin shell to reveal her sexy orange bikini once again. He attempted to give her a few kisses and fondle her a bit, to make the whole role-play sexy, but Caroline was furious. She grabbed the broom and toilet brush and chased Collins around, smashing his head with them.
Nearly all of the people in the studio watching the clip were laughing their heads off. Caroline and Collins were neither looking at nor talking to each other.
Lady C cleared her throat. “Now Charles and Jane, as Wild Tarzan and Jane. The host for this segment is Denny.”
The couple were both in sexy animal costumes. Against a jungle backdrop, Jane appeared to be unconscious. Denny, in an ape costume, pointed to Jane’s body and asked, “Tarzan/Charles, what do we have here?”
“An angel…? No, something like me,” Charles replied.
“Not very alike.”
“How so?”
“This one has two balls here and you don’t.” The ‘ape’ pointed from Jane’s breasts to Charles’s chest and said, “Squeeze them and tell me what they are like.”
Charles’s eyes widened. “Squeeze her breasts in front of …?”
“Why do you call them ‘breasts’?”
“I… heard some other apes say it,” Charles improvised.
“Squeeze!” the ape said, and elbowed Charles.
Charles knelt down near Jane and cupped her breasts lightly, making her moan.
“Oh, it moves. How did the round balls feel? Are they as hard as coconuts?” the ape asked.
“Of course not. They are firm but soft to touch.”
“It seemed to have trouble breathing. You should give it some air.” He elbowed Charles again.
“How?”
Ape/Denny grabbed Charles, kissed him on the mouth, and said, “Like that. Or do you want me to give her air?”
Charles pushed the ape away and bent over Jane to give her a soft kiss on the mouth. She gasped and her eyes opened.
“Well done, Tarzan/Charles.” The ape poked Jane’s shoulder. “What’s your name?”
“Jane.”
“How did you find Tarzan’s mouth?”
“He’s …soft. Quite nice.”
“And how did you feel when he squeezed your breasts?”
“Mmm…nice.”
“Tarzan/Charles, look under her animal-skin skirt and see if she is different below, too,” the ape suggested.
“What? No way!” Charles and Jane protested.
“I’ll look, then, if you don’t.” The ape moved, but Charles stepped protectively between the ape and Jane.
“Oh, you two are so boring!” The ape threw a tantrum. “Entertain me!”
“Why should we? I’m Tarzan. I should be the one commanding in the jungle.”
“So you want me to entertain you with Jane here?” Ape pretended to chase Jane. She squealed.
Charles turned, picked her up and ran. Jane wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.
The role-play neared a close with the ape chasing them into the jungle, through slippery foam. After a few slips and falls, both Tarzan and Jane, soaking wet, looked very sexy. Their performance also made many people in the studio laugh out loud.
“Next we have Richard and Charlotte as Crazy Cop and Innocent Housewife. Their host is Wickham.”
“Officer Richard, who have you got there?” Wickham asked Richard. They were in a holding-cell setting.
“A housewife named Charlotte. A neighbour complained that a ring was missing, and she was caught lurking in the vicinity.”
“Okay, Charlotte, hands on the wall, legs apart. Officer Richard, search her.”
Richard obeyed and patting his way quickly down Charlotte’s body, touching her only in inoffensive places.
“Hey, what did they teach you at the Academy? Search the lady thoroughly – or do you want me to take over? What do you say, lady? Which one of us do you want?”
“Not you. Officer Richard, please!”
“Move your butt, Officer.”
Richard moved closer and ran his hands first over her arms, then moved towards her breasts.
“It’s a ring we’re talking about, Officer. You need to conduct this search slowly and thoroughly!” Wickham barked.
Richard slowed his tempo and moved his hands to cover her breasts. Both Richard and Charlotte were clearly flustered.
“Anything, Officer?”
“No, nothing.”
“What? She doesn’t have any breasts?”
“Sir, she doesn’t have any ring hidden there.”
“Okay then, move down to her other hiding space, Officer Richard.”
Richard’s breathing became quick and shallow. He moved his hands down her belly and then to the triangle at the apex of her legs.
“Found anything?”
“Nothing.”
“Turn her around and tie her to the bars, wrists and ankles apart.”
“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” Charlotte yelped.
“Now, you tell Officer Richard where you hid the ring or he’ll have to use his top-grade interrogation technique.”
“I want a lawyer! You can’t do this to me!” Charlotte screamed.
Wickham handed Richard a gun, “Housewife Charlotte, this is a water gun. Fess up. Where is the ring?”
Charlotte yelled and called Wickham all sorts of names.
“Aim at her mouth to shut her up.”
Richard did as was told.
“Damn, Richard, do you have to be so obedient?” Charlotte was blazingly angry now.
Richard grinned. “Sorry, he’s the boss.”
“Now, let’s see what you learned about shooting at the Academy. As you can see, her white sundress has three red circles. Use them as your targets.”
The audience’s attention was drawn to Charlotte’s white costume, which sported three red spots, each roughly 5 cm in diameter, placed 5 cm above her three most important areas.
Richard aimed and shot at the first circle above Charlotte’s right breast. As the water touched the fabric, the material started to dissolve.
“Damn! They’re made of rice paper!” Charlotte said.
His on-target shot left a 5-cm hole above her right nipple, allowing the audience to catch a glimpse of the flesh there.
“You’re crazy! Who thought of such a thing?” Charlotte yelled.
“Officer Richard, the suspect accuses you of being crazy. Show her your crazy water gun.”
Richard seemed to enjoy Charlotte’s outburst. For the past few days of their pairing, he hadn’t seen her lose her calm once. Privately, he thought that she looked rather magnificent when she was angry.
With a devilish grin, he proceeded to shoot water at the circles above her left breast and above the apex of her thighs, exposing two more erotic holes, revealing tantalizing glimpses of Charlotte’s body for the audience to see.
The role-play ended when Richard was ordered to kiss and fondle his captive into submission. Their role-play earned a lot of applause and whistles from the audience. Charlotte blushed red, while Richard’s face wore a silly grin.
“And now for Darcy and Elizabeth, our Husband and Wife Porn Stars Team. Denny’s the host.”
The film rolled to show the initial interview of Darcy and Elizabeth, applying for roles in a porn movie.
“This porn is about a French aristocrat taking advantage of his maid. Now action!” Denny continued.
Elizabeth, in her sexy French maid’s gear, carried a tray of hot chocolate into the bedroom setting, prepared to serve her master, who had just come back from a business meeting.
“Monsieur, your hot chocolate,” Elizabeth said.
“Put it on the bedside table.”
“Darcy, you need to put some French accent in your line,” Denny added.
“Put it on the bedside table.” Darcy repeated with a heavy French accent.
When Elizabeth bent to place the drink down there, her ruffled lace panties were visible under the short skirt. Darcy moved behind her to trap her near the bedside table.
“Monsieur!”
He took the mug and drank a mouthful.
Denny came to stand beside them. Taking Darcy’s hand, he placed it on Elizabeth’s right butt cheek. “Pinch and continue.”
Darcy pinched her bottom slightly.
“Monsieur, what are you doing?” Elizabeth whirled to face Darcy.
“The chocolate is not hot enough. I … want something… hotter.”
“What do you mean, Sir?”
“The next action sequence is Darcy pushing you onto the bed. He parts your legs, smells your chatte – that’s your pussy, in French – uses the feather duster to play with you, and then mounts you. Both of you must act to give me the best fake climax you can. This is a screen test. If you two want the roles in our production, you have to give me the loudest moans you can manage. Now action!”
When Darcy appeared reluctant, Denny elbowed him, urging him to move.
Darcy leaned toward Elizabeth, making her topple onto the bed. The action made her body bounce on the mattress, her breasts shaking enticingly under the corset. He bent down and parted her legs slightly, but he still seemed reluctant to bend down and smell her womanhood in front of the camera.
“Hey, man, do you know how to act? If not, move aside and I can show you!” Denny came forward and put a hand on Elizabeth’s leg.
That alarmed Darcy. He exclaimed, “Don’t touch her,” then bent down and smelled her womanhood through the lace panties. It was a heavenly smell. He wanted to lick her there again. He could feel his arousal coming on.
“Continue.” Denny said.
“Votre chatte est brulante. I love your …hot chocolate! It has a …rich aroma.”
“No, master,” Elizabeth protested and tried to kick and shake him away as the script instructed.
Darcy held her legs and then took the feather duster from her hand. He traced the duster over her creamy flesh where it was exposed by the corset, then moved slowly down the front of her body and past her apex to the insides of her thighs.
The slow ministration made Elizabeth moan aloud and abandon her struggle.
“Now you’re all clean for your master,” Darcy said, and moved up over her as if to mount her body.
“Il y a du monde au balcon, wench. Don’t pretend. I saw you… peeking at me when I took my bath, last night.” Darcy said.
“I couldn’t help myself. You have the sexiest body,” she murmured.
“Call me Master.” Darcy then smacked her hip lightly.
“Master, you have the sexiest body.”
“So you admit to wanting me, wench?”
“Oui, monsieur.”
Darcy then imitated the thrusting actions, burying his face against the deep V of her bodice.
“Hey are you two professional porn stars? How come the moaning and screaming were so boring? Move over Darcy, let me demonstrate!” Denny said.
His words prompted Darcy and Elizabeth to moan and scream loudly, exhibiting more passion as the fake thrusting actions began to excite them both. Luckily for them, only a few minutes passed before Denny called “Cut!”, signaling the finish of the role-play.
Watching, Darcy and Elizabeth recalled how, at the end of the filming, they had breathed a sigh of relief, collected their normal clothes, uttered a hurried goodbye and scrambled out of the suite.
When they reached Darcy’s room, he slammed the door shut and said, “Repliez sur la table.”
Elizabeth eyes widened, “You want to continue the roleplay?”
“Bend over the table, wench, or you will be up for punishment. Do as I say!”
“Non, monsieur,” Elizabeth winked and protested. Darcy turned her around and bent her over.
“Ouvrez vos pattes!”
“Non, monsieur!” She was determined to defy his order.
Darcy smacked her bottom and said, “Open your legs, wench!”
“Ouch! That hurts!” Elizabeth continued to protest, still refusing to obey.
“Then you will be punished for the entire night for disobeying your master. ”
He used his knee to nudge her legs apart. His hands squeezed and cupped her breasts through the corset. He then freed his arousal, pushed her lace panties aside and thrust into her hot, wet womanhood from behind. Their coupling was intense and loud. And again they forgot protection.
They didn’t come out for dinner that night. The French maid costume and feather duster proved very useful. Darcy said a few times “Votre chatte est brulante”, or your pussy is hot in French, throughout the night. He liked to drink her hot chocolate, and he dusted her down with the feather duster even more thoroughly…
Darcy and Elizabeth were roused from their reverie about the steamy night they’d spent by admiring whistles from the audience in the studio. It seemed the clip of their role-play had ended and the audience had liked it quite well.
So, who won the Challenge and two days of relaxation on another deserted island?
Richard and Charlotte. They earned many points from the judges, who thought the water-gun shooting sequence was hilarious.
And who lost?
Surprisingly, not Collins and Caroline. It was Charles and Jane. It seemed that their role-play was neither hot enough nor funny enough, as compared to others. They were treated to the final torture of a painful full-body waxing (with their swimming costumes on).
But what happened to our favourite couples?
Georgiana made her way back into Darcy’s good books by arranging for Elizabeth and him to go off to Fiji without Collins and Caroline.
From there, they traveled back to Boobie Hill, where Darcy stayed on his ‘parole’ for a week. Then after three months of long distance romance, Elizabeth moved to Sydney. She rented a small apartment and worked in a travel agent. Their romance continued.
Darcy finally managed to persuade her to move in with him, five months later. Then six more months passed before she said yes to his marriage proposal. The High and Mighty Darcy Junior didn’t make an appearance for yet another year, But the happy couple then had three more children. Not surprisingly, the nerdy scientist was extremely diligent in his research, planning and implementing an endless array of sexy games and role-plays to spice up their matrimonial love lives.
Bingley and Jane flew to Sydney after Fiji, where she
stayed there for three months before tying the knot. They had two children together.
Richard and Charlotte carried on a hot affair for about three months before they drifted apart.
As for Collins and Caroline, they eventually each found other targets to stalk, after four years.
Why so long?
It’s because Sexpert Challenge was a huge success for Lady C Productions. The show remained the top-rated program for Channel 12 over seven seasons. The saucy format and the successful romances of Bingley and Jane, as well as Darcy and Elizabeth, all contributed to the success of the show.
As for Collins and Caroline, they both gave up their old jobs and became an ‘odd couple’ who were invited to many comedy shows and events. They were so busy with their appointments that they didn’t have time to stalk.
One thing that continued to make Elizabeth and Darcy uncomfortable, however, was that every time they encountered Caroline, she would hint that Darcy had strange tastes in women, at which point she would attempt to console Elizabeth privately.
And what about our famous TV-industry couple? Lady C was very satisfied with Wickham’s performance, both on- and off-screen. She kept him with her for many years. But as she grew older, she became increasingly interested in S&M. Wickham tried to leave her several times, but his spending habits and sexual proclivities had become so dependent on her that he had to return, each time, after a few months of straying. In the end, he became the most infamous ‘boy toy’ in the industry.
What if Mr. Darcy was a foul-mouthed chef?
“Jane, I want you to raise your bloody voice and give Lydia the shit! She’s late and she’s lazy. She cooks the crappiest oysters I have ever eaten. She skips out of the kitchen and flirts with all the male diners. Longbourn Restaurant will not survive another six weeks if you don’t begin acting like a boss,” Charles Bingley yelled at the top of his voice.
His furious expression made Jane Bennet burst into tears. She pulled open the back door and ran out of the kitchen.
He hurried after her. “Sorry, sweetie!” he called from the doorway. “I didn’t mean it. It’s only written in the script. You know Darce. He’s the opinionated one here. Jane, wait!” Charles took off his microphone and chased after her.
“Follow them!” Darcy yelled at the camera crew, the muttered, “Great!” sarcastically to himself and stormed off to the walk-in pantry to cool off, “Now we’ve lost the cast. I don’t want to be stuck here! I’ll die of frustration.” He sat down on a barrel of olive oil and dropped his head into his hands. He loved food and he loved the walk-in pantry. As a boy, he had often hidden in the pantry at Pemberley when he was chased by his cousin Richard.
Celebrity chef Charles Bingley was the face of “Heat Up the Kitchen Table,” but he was not the foul mouth personality he portrayed in front of the camera, a larger-than-life character who helped restaurant owners around the world to rescue their businesses. In reality, he was the forever cheerful man who was renowned for indecision.
The format and success of the show were due more to its quiet and insightful producer, William Darcy. Darcy was a successful businessman and media mogul with an arrogant and perfectionist attitude. He had scripted many of the initial controversial confrontations on camera which had served to launch Charles and the show into fame and win the hearts of struggling restaurant owners.
The crew of the popular television show was filming in Meryton, trying to rescue a family restaurant, Longbourn. It had quickly become apparent that head chef Jane Bennet was a doormat who let her sous-chef and youngest sister Lydia trample all over her.
In Darcy’s eyes, the mother and business manager, Fanny Bennet, was a nervous wreck who only wanted to marry off her daughters to any wealth patron who happened to pass through, and woman who should never have worked in a restaurant. She cried and screamed under the slightest pressure, as well as whenever she couldn’t get her own way from her husband. The head waitresses, Mary and Kitty Bennet, were forgetful and slack. The father hid in the upstairs office with his books all the time – not accounting books for the restaurant, but books from his personal library on philosophy and history. No wonder the restaurant was in dire need of a rescue.
The only person worth a glance was Elizabeth Bennet, the second eldest daughter. Actually, she was worth many glances. She had dark, curly hair, intelligent, bright eyes, witty conversation and a lovely smile, not to mention a body perfectly suited to his taste.
Darcy would never understand how Charles could prefer the skinny, willowy type like Jane. He himself was definitely a ‘meat’ lover who liked his woman voluptuous.
But Elizabeth didn’t work in Longbourn Restaurant. She was a chocolatier who owned and operated three shops called Pure Indulgence. Chocolate was Darcy’s weakness. And he had soon discovered that her chocolate was pure heaven. She had been using her profits to subsidize the ailing Longbourn for the past year, and it was she who had written to “Heat Up the Kitchen Table” to ask the show to help rescue the restaurant.
Darcy had met with Elizabeth several times before the shooting was due to begin. It wasn’t the norm, but Charles had fallen in love with his angel, Jane Bennet, immediately after meeting her, and so he had persuaded Darcy to come for the preshow meetings in Meryton, where he spent hours monopolizing Jane’s attention while Darcy and Elizabeth were left to “entertain” each other. Darcy thought that Elizabeth liked him. She certainly seemed to like to get a rise out of him in a sweet, arch way, always arguing with him about this and that, although never flaunting herself. And he had certainly been getting quite a rise every morning since he met her. She had been featured prominently in different positions in his erotic dreams for days, now.
The problem was that no woman in London, or anywhere else, had held any interest at all for him, since then. To be honest, he hadn’t been seriously interested in anyone since his father died. The occasional Friday night out wasn’t worth a mention.
Elizabeth was different. She tempted him too much and too fast. But he was a billionaire businessman with a family who relied on him and a self-made fortune. He had been chased by the most beautiful women in the world for years. He would not act on his infatuation yet, particularly not with a woman who had such a troublesome family.
That was why he had delayed the shooting at the Longbourn Restaurant for almost five months, distracting Charles with other urgent projects. Two weeks ago, however, Darcy’s and Elizabeth’s paths had crossed accidentally. He was attending a food and wine function in Kent with his cousin, only to discover that she was exhibiting her chocolate creations there. She was as tempting as her Pure Indulgence. And that blasted Richard had used every possible minute to flirt and chat her up. Darcy was green with jealousy and almost tongue-tied, at first. But he drew comfort from the fact that she kept talking and teasing him, despite Richard’s efforts to monopolize her.
Darcy now believed that Elizabeth still liked him very much, even after a five-month absence. Maybe she had been waiting for him to take the first move. So here he was, finally arriving with his crew to shoot the episode about Longbourn. He hadn’t produced the series personally for a while, but he had come anyway. Two weeks on, however, he had seen her only once or twice. He hadn’t had the opportunity to put things out in the open with her yet, but he was determined to do it soon. He had finally admitted to himself, just this morning, that he needed to make love to her soon or he would lose his insanity.
“Where the bloody hell are you, Darcy?”
Elizabeth’s voice startled him from his reflection. He was about to reply when the pantry door was pushed open with such a force that the hinges nearly flew apart. He was confronted with the sizzling hot vision of the pocket-sized dessert goddess wearing a red, silky halter top and tight white jeans. No wonder her chocolate sells so well. I wouldn’t mind visiting her shop every day if she wears clothes like this while serving me.
Darcy calmed his thoughts and spoke politely. “What can I do for you?”
Elizabeth walked a step closer to him, her hands on her hips. It was a most distracting sight for Darcy. As he was still sitting, his eyes were almost on the same level as her cleavage. And what cleavage! She was furious and breathing so hard that Darcy couldn’t help hoping the seam of her top would burst.
“What can you do for me? Can’t you wash your mouth out and rewrite your script for Charles a little bit more politely? Did you know that you had him saying ‘Fuck you!’ over 40 times in that script? Jane has a delicate heart, and she can’t take all this foul language and yelling.”
Lord, I’d love to fuck you too, again and again! Darcy thought. He was exhausted. He hadn’t been able to sleep well for months now, due to the erotic dreams he was having about this woman. On top of that, the shooting hadn’t been going smoothly, as Charles was too damn distracted by his angel. And now this woman was thrusting her breasts in front of him, invading his space with her sexy scent. He wanted to pull her onto his body and stop her yelling with violent kisses.
But he chose not to do that…yet. The pantry was not the right place.
Instead he replied politely again. “It’s the truth. You want us here to rescue Longbourn, and we need her to act like a boss. Otherwise, there will be no Longbourn Restaurant any more.”
“Can’t you make the pill a bit sweeter to swallow? Do you have to ask Charles to swear every three minutes?”
“But that kind of television sells. I bet the footage with Jane in tears and Charles comforting her will shoot the ratings rocket-high.”
Elizabeth was getting angrier and angrier. Her mom and younger sisters had been biting her ears off for bringing in this rescue team. Jane was under a lot of stress and avoided talking to her at all. Creditors were knocking at her door. She couldn’t keep subsidizing Longbourn much longer. It might well sink her own shops, too.
She had come in to see the late-night shoot, just in time to see Jane run off in tears. Elizabeth’s heart ached, and she was torn between running to comfort her or staying to read the riot act to the arrogant producer. She disliked Darcy all the more because, during their first meeting, she had overheard him telling Charles that she was so plain that she wasn’t worth a minute of his time. Since then, she had delighted in teasing and making fun of Darcy, to get revenge for that conceited remark, even though she found him handsome, intelligent and business-savvy. And she hated him all the more after meeting him in Kent again.
When she’d seen Charles chasing after Jane, she’d decided to confront Darcy. She stepped closer still and almost breathed her words on his nose. “You’re only interested in your show. You’re a cheat! You don’t care about any of the restaurants you promise to save. Bloody arrogant cheat! I’d have been much better off to hire a business coach to help us than getting us onto your rubbish show.”
The one thing Darcy hated most was when people questioned his honesty. His blood boiled, and he stopped her from yelling at him in the way he had most been wanting to.
Surging to his feet, he used one hand to grab her by the waist and pull her close. She stumbled and fell heavily against him. With his other hand, he held her head and bent to kiss her violently. He poured all the frustration from his erotic dreams into the kiss. When he sucked on her upper lip, it tasted of pure dark chocolate. Then his tongue pried her lips open and thrust into her mouth, which tasted of hazel nut and milk chocolate. He rammed his tongue into her mouth, twirling, pushing, withdrawing, thrusting again and again, telling her silently how he wanted to possess her body.
Elizabeth struggled at first, trying to push away from him and stand on her own. But after his tongue invaded her mouth, she was lost. She wrapped her hands around his neck and ground her body against his. His six-pack muscles gave her the most stimulating sensation! Her nipples peaked and her stomach lurched.
His hands smoothed over her naked upper back and grabbed her bottom through the jeans, squeezing and rubbing her cheeks. She was much more responsive than in his dream. He untied her top, then sank back into his chair and pulled her down onto his lap, reaching around her to plant his hands on her treasure mounds. They were firm and bouncy. Her skin was smooth and her nipples hardened like rocks.
He felt a huge arousal coming. As she rubbed her bottom over him, he nearly came in that instant. He tried to slow his body down, but her breasts were more than he could resist. He squeezed and fondled them with avid interest, making her moan and squirm on his lap.
The friction was too much. Maddened, he pushed her to stand up and rose with her, tearing at her jeans. He succeeded in opening them and forcing them, along with her tiny panties, down her legs.
Elizabeth gasped, feeling the cool air on her body. Inside, however, she was boiling and eager for action, too. She unbuttoned his shirt and kissed his hairy chest.
“You’re the most arrogant person I know,” she murmured against his skin as he caressed her mound, “but you’re just piping hot!” She pushed her hands down his trousers and grabbed hold of his butt. Her fingernails teased the crest of the cheeks, sending shivers down Darcy’s spine.
He abandoned his caress of her apex and tackled his trousers, pushing them and his boxers down in one go. Then he pressed her against the shelves, kissing her, kneading her twin peaks, rubbing his arousal against her, bombarding her with rich sensations all over her body.
“I want you. I can’t wait!” He growled like a hungry lion, then pulled her legs up to wrap around his waist.
“Me either. I’m so hot!” Clinging to him, Elizabeth suckled his earlobe and dug her fingers into his back.
He supported her creamy bottom and teased his shaft against her entrance, not entering, just touching and opening her secret lips.
Elizabeth moaned aloud with the contact, and he echoed her. She was so wet that she could feel her essence flowing down her body.
Darcy was hard and huge, unable to bear another tease. He pushed his thick manhood into her, slowly at first because she was so tight and small. Inch by inch, his body invaded, sinking into her warmth.
Elizabeth was speechless and breathless. Darcy was strong and powerful in every inch of his body. He stretched her muscles and skin, on and on, conquering every pore and surface of her inner self. He was so slow and patient that she kissed him passionately to urge him on.
At that, he sensed her needs and thrust deep into her with one mighty final push. She screamed out loud, feeling a molten sensation in her core, as it had never been touched and stretched so deeply and intensely before.
Then, raising her, he withdrew almost his whole length from her before pounding into her again. His potent manhood warred with her soft, moist muscles. His hands manipulated her bottom as he slammed into her again and again. The friction, the wetness, the pounding, their moaning and breathing created an intense, erotic rhythm in the pantry. On and on, he thrust into her, until she felt as if her blood were boiling and radiating throughout her body. She felt weightless, shivering and convulsing as she reached heaven.
Her whole body went limp. He drove into her for a final few times and then he also lost control, trembling violently as his seed fountained up into her.
Then he sat back down on the barrel, with her straddled on his lap. The two of them still hugged each other tightly, enjoying the aftermath of their earth-shattering mating, with their bodies still linked together.
Slowly, a sense of reality returned. They were in the final stages of dressing in silence when Darcy suddenly blurted, “Shit! I forgot the condom.”
Elizabeth pulled open the door and walked into the now deserted kitchen. The back door was locked, and the restaurant in the front was pitch black, the only light coming from the pantry.
She steadied herself against the kitchen table. It’s 2 o’clock in the morning! He had been fucking her senseless for almost an hour. She was angry with herself for allowing him to make love to her without protection. He seemed to make her forget herself completely. She was supposed to hate him. “Luckily for you, I’m on the pill,” she said tightly.
“There’s still no excuse for me. But you’re so hot that you make me forget everything.” Darcy wrapped his arms around her from the back, kissing her neck tenderly.
She shivered and tried to turn away from him. “No need for flattery. I know you find me a ‘plain Jane’ who isn’t worth a minute of your time.”
“Shit! You overhead that?” He let go of her and raked his fingers through his hair in embarrassment. “I wasn’t myself, that night I met you. I hadn’t even looked at you properly when I said those words. But I was hooked on you before the night out.”
She turned, craning her neck to look him in the eye. “But I hate you.”
“Hate me? I thought you liked me.”
“Arrogant, conceited man! Why would I like you?” She scowled up at him. “Richard told me you deliberately delayed shooting the episode about Longbourn because you wanted to separate Charles from the woman with the ‘objectionable family.’”
“Fucking gossiping Richard! I’m going to strangle him, next time I see him.”
“Do you deny separating Charles from Jane? She was heartbroken for months!”
“Richard got it all wrong!”
“But he talked about somebody being ‘like a horny rabbit, wanting to fuck the woman senseless, every time he sees her.’ And he said ‘her mother and younger sisters were too much trouble, so he chose to delay shooting for nearly five months.’”
Darcy was furious with Richard. “I didn’t use those vulgar words. And I wasn’t talking about Charles and Jane. I was talking about you and me.”
Elizabeth stared. “Shit! You’ve had the hots for me for that long?”
“I can prove it. I have condoms in my wallet.” Darcy pulled out his wallet and slammed the condoms in different colours on the kitchen table one after another. “They are there to remind me that I have lusted after you for all these months. And I’ll use all of them with you, all night long, if I can get my hands on you again, one day.”
Elizabeth eyes widened on seeing the number of condoms he pulled out. His hands were braced on either side of the kitchen table, trapping her there. He was breathing hard, his six pack rising and falling rapidly.
He looked magnificent when he was angry.
“So…you didn’t find me plain? And you didn’t scheme to separate Charles and Jane?” she asked.
“No.” He shook his head with vigour.
“Then what are you waiting for?” She wrapped her hands around his neck and tried to pull his head down for a kiss. “The condoms are waiting.”
Darcy raised his hands and stopped her. “Actually, I have a different position in mind for each different-coloured condom.” He then turned her around and pushed her to lie on the kitchen table, face down. He lowered his head and kissed her earlobes, neck and naked back, trailing hot, wet kisses over her body.
Elizabeth shivered. She felt chilled as the front of her body pressed against the cold stainless kitchen table. But she felt hot as his lips were scorching her back. Blood rioted in her body again.
Without further foreplay, he unbuttoned her jeans and bared her creamy bottom to his assault. He shoved his trousers down, pulled on the blue condom, joined her on the table and drove into her from behind with one mighty thrust.
Holding her hips, he thrust into her like mad. His arousal was hot and hard, slamming into her core, deeper and deeper. Elizabeth screamed and wriggled her bottom to meet him, thrust by thrust. Primed as they already were, their mating was rough, hot and fast, and they quickly reached a simultaneous climax.
Not long afterwards, they retired to Darcy’s hotel to test out other positions and discuss strategy for how he could best handle her family. Both skipped work for the day, blissfully unaware of the firestorm of publicity that hit Longbourn when the restaurant’s sous-chef, Lydia, reported to the police that a thief in the night had raided her kitchen, stealing two dozen oysters and leaving behind an unused silver condom on the kitchen table.
What if Mr. Darcy participated in another reality show?
“Thanks for tuning in to Celebrity Dancing Shoes. Welcome to everybody in the studio and the millions of viewers at home! I’m Charles Bingley and this is my co-host, that elegant but annoying sister of mine, Caroline Bingley.” Charles flashed a big grin at the camera, earning a smack on the arm from Caroline.
“Hello everybody! Just ignore Charles. He has grown up to be quite silly. I’m sure you’re all familiar with the format of our highly successful show as it enters into its fifth season. We take celebrities who have had no formal dance training and pair them up with professional dancers. Over the course of ten weeks, the celebrity has to learn ballroom, Latin and several other forms of dance. Each week, during our live broadcast, one couple is voted off, based on a combination of the scores they received from the judges and the votes they received from the viewing audience. If the scores are tied for two couples, the one with more audience votes wins.”
“Tonight is our final competition of the season. In Week Eight, there were only two couples left. Our first gentleman is William Darcy, a very good friend of mine. The world-famous artificial-heart inventor pairs up with waltz champion Ann de Bourgh. The money raised from your votes for him goes to the Heart Foundation.” Caroline said, “And George Wickham, our home-grown Bollywood heartthrob, unfortunately pairs up with British rumba champion Eliza Bennet.”
“Why ‘unfortunately’?” Charles asked. “Elizabeth is beautiful, talented and hot!”
“Which is unfortunate for all of our female viewers at home,” Caroline explained, “since Miss Eliza has put her hands all over George’s body for so many weeks. The viewers, I’m sure, would like to trade places with her. And George’s charity is ‘No More Bullies.’”
“Darcy has a lot of female fans out there, too,” Charles stated, rallying for his friend. “Although the judges have said that he learned and executed the techniques of every dance very well, they do agree that he has been too uptight, not showing any emotion when he dances with Ann. As a result, he hasn’t been receiving very good scores from the judges. Week after week, I’ve expected him to be voted off, but my handsome friend must have thousands of female fans voting for him, because he’s still here tonight in the final.”
“As for George and Miss Eliza, they have been leading every week,” Caroline noted with a dazzling smile for the camera. “His dancing techniques are not as precise as Darcy’s, but George is more entertaining and charming on the dance floor, and he matches well with Miss Eliza.”
Charles held up a cautioning finger. “But our ‘devil’ judge, Frederick Wentworth, said on Week Seven that he sensed that George’s ‘sincerity’ might well be fake, and he believed that there was tension between the partners. And he gave them a very low score of five.”
“That sent the gossip magazines and talk shows into a frenzy,” Caroline added smugly. “Everyone heard, at the beginning of the series, that Bollywood George seemed to be very taken with Miss Eliza. He has been seen visiting her home in Meryton, taking her to nightclubs and, in fact, leaving her place on a few early mornings in ‘not so tidy’ attire. In fact, I recall a headline from a gossip magazine during Week Five that claimed that Miss Eliza was caught buying a home pregnancy test kit. It read, ‘Small-Town Hoofer Preggers by Bollywood Bad Boy!’”
“Caroline, I’m sure that was pure gossip!”
“Was it?” Caroline held up a colorful tabloid magazine.
“Here’s a headline from Week Seven, when Miss Eliza was said to have come out of a local clinic with tears in her eyes. ‘Dumped Dancer Seeks Abortion.’”
Outraged by Caroline’s deviations from the script, Charles deftly changed the subject. “Then both couples should thank our producer, Jimmy Forester, who has introduced a fateturning twist. We announced two weeks ago that the remaining couples would switch partners for the final two weeks of the competition. Darcy is now paired up with Elizabeth, and Ann with George. Let’s roll the camera and see our new couples in training.”
In the first film clip, a hot and flushed Elizabeth, who had apparently just finished a training session, was interviewed by Caroline. The latter was dressed impeccably in an orange princess dress accentuated with a multicolour silk scarf and a two-storey hairdo.
“How lucky, Miss Eliza! You got to pair up with William and even stay as a guest at Pemberley, his impressive country estate, for two weeks. How did a small-town girl like you fare? I image his ballroom is bigger than your entire house. I hope you didn’t get lost in the corridors.”
“There are a lot of lovely trees, flowers, birds and small animals on the grounds here. I love being able to lose myself in Nature when I finish a day’s training.”
“Miss Eliza, we saw your shocked reactions when we announced the switch of dance partners. Was it because William was heard saying you only had a ‘tolerable figure’ and that your mother was ‘coarse and mercenary'?” Caroline asked, her tone snide.
“Oh, did Darcy say that? Remind me to introduce him to my uncle. You could say that he is even more ‘coarse and mercenary’ than my mom, since he is in the gold mining industry,” Elizabeth replied, and grinned.
She then added in a serious but sweet tone, “I’ve been training with George for eight weeks. Naturally, I wanted to complete the competition with him and win the trophy. I was just shocked with a swap so late into the series. I’m a professional, though, and I'm sure I could teach even a skeleton to dance well.” Gossip magazines often laughed at Caroline, saying that she walked and danced like a skeleton dipped in orange paint because she was so thin, behaved so arrogantly and wore orange clothing all the time.
“Oh, you wanted to win the trophy with George? How touching! Then the off-camera rumors must be true. Are you pregnant?”
“You seem awfully interested in home pregnancy kits, Caroline…” Elizabeth winked while Caroline’s face turned deadly red. “As for me, I only went to the pharmacy to buy high blood pressure pills for my mom. Perhaps you need some? You look quite red now. Maybe you have high blood pressure, too.”
The footage stopped there, and the studio audience broke into a fit of laughter.
Charles couldn’t help but laugh, too. Then he continued, “The gossips did absolute wonders for our ratings. Last week, we did a recap of our couples’ journey to the Finals, to allow our newly formed couples two weeks of bonding time, and over 5 million viewers tuned in to watch.”
“Here is some further footage from that two weeks of intense training,” a red-faced Caroline said, when cued by the production team. She would kill Jimmy after the show. She had specifically asked him to cut out that “high blood pressure” footage.
Now, on camera, Pemberley’s ballroom appeared, where a casually dressed Darcy met up with Elizabeth. He looked serious and pensive.
“Miss Bennet. How do you do, today?”
“Hi, Darcy. Why so formal? I’ve seen you frequently over the past eight weeks. Even if you won’t call me ‘honey,’ like George does, I’m sure you can do better than ‘Miss Bennet,’” Elizabeth replied teasingly.
She had also known Darcy socially for the last few weeks, as her sister Jane was dating his good friend and host, Charles. She had also learned about how he had mistreated George, regarding an inheritance from Darcy’s dad. George also said that Darcy was a playboy with a number of kept women. As a result of that, along with his remarks about her figure and her mom, she found him arrogant and conceited, and enjoyed taunting him, every opportunity she had.
“They may be filming us secretly now,” Darcy said.
“Why should you be afraid to get comfy with me in front of the camera? We have to dance a rumba together during the Finals. You know that the rumba is a sensual dance. It should be like making love with me in front of the camera, so you'd better get used to it.”
“I’m not very good at this – at being comfortable with women,” he said, and blushed.
“Really? Just imagine that I'm your lover number 18.”
“What?”
“Just something George said… That you had gotten comfy with quite a number of women.”
Darcy’s eyes shone with anger. He said coldly, “George is vulgar and a bad influence, Miss Bennet. I hope you haven't paid too much attention to what he’s said, and that you haven’t slept with him, as the gossip magazine claimed. I would also hope…”
Elizabeth grew angry, too, and suddenly pressed her body into a surprised Darcy. She wrapped her arms around him, positioned her hands on his butt and smacked him with force. “Okay, Mr. Gossip, let’s concentrate on our job. Here is Lesson One on how to touch your partner, rumba style,” she said archly.
The footage stopped and Caroline cried out, “Scandalous! No wonder some gossip magazines claimed that Miss Eliza was a …”
“Wow, Caroline,” Charles interrupted hastily, “do you think our sly producer has any more secret footage to show us before the dances begin?”
The light in the studio dimmed, and the announcer said, “Dancing the rumba certainly is like making love! So let’s see if William Darcy really can make love with a stranger…in a sensual rumba.”
Standing in the centre of the darkened studio, Darcy trembled when Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his back and pressed every inch of her body to his. The music began, and she smoothed her hands down his back as she swayed her body down at the same time, leaving absolutely no space between them.
He felt like he was being electrocuted. The sensation of having her hot breasts drawing a zig-zag path from his chest to his belly, and down to his thighs was beyond words. He hoped he wouldn’t have an erection in front of millions of TV audiences. He told himself to remember the routine…but all he could remember was the previous night.
What had happened last night?
When he’d first met Elizabeth at the launch of the season, he hadn’t paid much attention to her. She wasn’t an eye-catching blond like her sister Jane…but he couldn’t help noticing that she danced with passion, even partnered with a low-life like Wickham. After her dance routines, Elizabeth’s eyes would shine and glisten. A lovely crimson colour would blossom under her creamy skin. Her breasts would seem about to burst through her tight top, as if begging for a squeeze. Her butt and thighs were tightly toned, ripe for fondling. And, best of all, she would smile and laugh with joy, as if she had just successfully completed the world’s most difficult challenge.
Darcy had wanted to write her off as a loser who only wasted her life partying away, but then he began to encounter her frequently at social functions with Charles and Jane. He soon learned that she was, in fact, a dance teacher and a nurse.
She was witty, intelligent and independent. In fact, she was altogether different from the fake women who frequented the ‘old money’ circle. She didn’t need plastic surgery or high fashion to enhance her beauty. She didn’t need a rich man to satisfy her shopping or spending needs. He particularly admired her sincerity and her loyalty to Jane, their family and her friends.
He felt it was rotten luck that she had gotten herself entangled with Wickham. Darcy was strongly attracted to her, and she was off limits to him, not least because he didn’t want to be Wickham’s successor, thereby giving Wickham a chance to gloat.
In the two weeks since switching partners, Darcy had been in big TROUBLE. He had the hots for Elizabeth, and it didn’t help that she was staying at Pemberley, with her room only a few doors from his.
He could feel her soft curves, and inhale her fragrant lavender scent and spicy hot breaths during rehearsals. Scene after scene of sexual fantasy flashed through his mind, and he was in a constant state of arousal, day and night. That was why he had chosen to wear loose trousers all the time, excusing his awkward walking to all the dancing practice. He had been like a zombie, with no thoughts except those about her hot body.
Darcy, extremely embarrassed, was sure that Elizabeth knew about it, because she had to touch his body during the dance. Since he was seriously distracted by his sexual fantasies, he didn’t learn the routines and techniques as quickly as he had with Ann. That frustrated Elizabeth a lot, and she increased their hours of training from six to sometimes as many as ten hours a day.
The long sessions and constant nagging from Elizabeth finally got to Darcy. After training from 8 am to 4 pm non-stop the day before, Elizabeth was still not happy with his performance and wanted to extend the training till 7.30 pm, right before dinner. But he couldn’t bear the tension of holding her body for another second. He refused, stomped his foot, stalked out of the grand ballroom and shut himself up in the library.
Elizabeth decided to let him cool down. Around 7 pm, however, she was determined to talk to him again and to persuade him to put in two more hours of training after dinner.
She knocked on the library door with an ‘I’m the teacher, and so you had better behave’ expression on her face.
After several knocks, he still hadn’t responded. She was getting pretty worked up, and she banged even more loudly on the door.
Bang! Bang!
Her fist was raised in preparation for banging on the door the third time, and so she was unprepared when it opened and she suddenly came face-to-face with a muscular bare chest. She couldn’t hold back her hand.
Bang!
She left a red mark on Darcy’s naked torso.
“What the hell?” He felt the pain and growled.
Embarrassed, Elizabeth wanted to apologize but, hearing his growl, she couldn’t resist defending herself. Slipping past him and kicking the library door shut to prevent others from hearing their argument, she yelled back, “You brought that on yourself! You left the training like a spoilt child and then refused to open the door when I knocked nicely.”
His eyes widened. He couldn’t believe she was blaming him when she was the one who had smacked him.
“I was asleep, you crazy woman! I didn’t hear your knock, at first. And I didn’t leave the training like a spoilt child. I left after 8 full hours.” Raising his hand to his left chest, he massaged the flesh where her fist had landed, then turned slowly and walked to the couch at the far right-hand side of the room.
It was Elizabeth’s turn to widen her eyes. She had seen many bare-chested men on beaches before, but his shoulders were broad and muscular. His chest was smooth except for some hair near his belly button, tapering down to disappear into the waistband of his black –
— underpants! He's only wearing underpants! Elizabeth thought, panicked. Words tumbled out of her mouth. “You’re the crazy one! You’ve danced with me for two weeks with your erection pressed against me the whole time. Luckily, the TV crew was only there for one day to shoot our training. And now you open your door to me in your underpants. Are you a pervert?”
Darcy froze in his path towards the couch and wheeled to look at her. She was standing there, legs apart, hands on hips, her lips opened as her face turned red. His sleepy head cleared abruptly, for Elizabeth’s pose looked somehow familiar to him. Pictures raced through his mind, and he suddenly made the connection. Yes, from my Internet research about how to tell whether a woman is interested, this surely is an aroused woman! He became aroused immediately, happy that Elizabeth had the hots for him, too.
“There you go again!” Elizabeth took a step forward to scream right into his face. “Can’t you get one of your women to keep your little Willie down, at least for a few minutes? We have a dance competition to win tomorrow. I don’t want my reputation ruined by your animal insti…”
He had had enough of her accusations. He pulled her by the waist, closing the gap between their bodies. Then he mashed his lips against hers to silence her. He poured all his weeks of admiration, lust and frustration into the kiss, biting her lips and thrusting his tongue into her mouth.
At the same time, his hands were busy branding her body. First, her tight butt needed fondling. The thin cotton of her dress was no barrier. Secondly, he ran his hands down her thighs, feeling their strength and smoothness. Then he freed one hand to cup her breast. It was pert, the perfect size for his big palm. When the contact caused her nipple to harden, he couldn’t help but pinch it, while his other hand pushed aside her G-string so that he could slide his fingers in to trace her secret lips.
Elizabeth’s hands came to wrap around his neck. Good, she likes it – no resistance. He slipped one finger into her entrance. It was tight, and she threw back her head, giving a loud moan.
Feeling her legs begin to buckle, he picked Elizabeth up and placed her on the large couch, which he had had custom-made to fit his six-foot frame. To his satisfaction, there was plenty of room on it for the two of them.
Elizabeth was in a haze. She didn’t understand why she wasn’t protesting. She didn’t like him at all. He was a known womaniser! But he was also handsome and intelligent, nothing at all like George, who talked non-stop about his famous and exciting career. He didn’t talk much, most of the time, but when he did, he expressed the most fascinating and fresh ideas about medical issues and the care of patients. His hands and tongue were like magic bands! Maybe two weeks of non-stop sensual dancing and living together had muddled her head, too.
Thinking back to the Is she interested in you? research, He followed its advice and pushed down the spaghetti straps of her cotton dress, baring her wonderful breasts. Thrilled by the sight, he suckled and squeezed her nipples.
Elizabeth felt a hot flush race through her body and moisten her G-string.
Continuing with his experiment, he pushed the skirt of her dress up to her waist and hastily pulled off her G-string. He devoted one hand to the continued worship of her breasts while he moved down to enable his lips to settle on the curls at the apex of her thighs. He breathed in her scent, and found that it was heavenly and utterly unique.
When he parted her thighs more widely and lowered his head to trace his tongue along her entrance, Elizabeth felt torched by fire. She arched her back, offering herself.
His hand left her breasts and moved down to part her secret lips. He thrust his tongue in and out, tasting her.
It was too much for her. Within a few scant minutes, she screamed in ecstasy and came.
He raised his head from her womanhood and stripped out of his underwear, then lowered his body onto hers, chest to chest, hips to hips. “Look at me, Elizabeth. I want to be inside you now. I have been thinking of this moment for weeks.”
She tried to fix her gaze on him but she was still on her high and couldn’t concentrate.
He kissed her mouth and stroked her breasts while he slowly pushed the tip of his erection against her wet entrance and then rocked his hips, entering her. That brought Elizabeth back from the other world. His manhood was so much thicker than his finger or tongue! She felt as if her insides were fully stretched, and the feeling was unbelievable. He was very hard and yet irresistibly smooth, creating a strong, silky friction deep inside her body.
He reached down to raise her feet to wrap around his waist. Then he pushed hard into Elizabeth, all the way to her womb. He closed his eyes and let his body savor the sensation. He was tightly enwrapped, intimately squeezed. Blood seemed to have stopped flowing to his brain, intent instead on shoot through other regions of his body like heated missiles.
His body was on automatic pilot. He thrust in and out of her, again and again. His hands pleasured her breasts. His mouth danced a tango with hers. He lost track of time until the missiles burst from his body, flooding her with his seed. Then he collapsed on top of her.
When he finally returned from heaven, he clasped her tightly, then rolled onto his back, moving Elizabeth on top of him. Only then did he notice that she had tears on her face.
“Oh my god, did I hurt?”
“It hurt at first. You’re a big man.”
“And then?”
“And then what?”
“Did it still hurt after the ‘at first’? I’m so sorry – I was concentrating on getting to the heaven myself and I don’t even know whether you came or not.” He was embarrassed. His research had warned that men should give pleasure to their women first.
“You have a one-track mind!”
“Sorry. Researchers are like this. So?” He urged.
“So what?”
“Did you come?”
“I screamed.”
He looked stricken. “Did I hurt you that much?”
“I twisted my body until it ached.”
“Oh, that sounds bad! Did you want me to stop earlier?”
“My body felt torched by fire.”
“Damn!” He felt terrible about hurting her. He covered his eyes with his hand and wished he could bury himself in a hole.
“And then I had a huge climax that went on and on,” Elizabeth whispered.
He dropped his hand and stared at her. “Are you teasing me, woman? I thought you didn’t come.”
Heartened, Darcy was ready to roll her over to “punish” her again. But he saw that she had fallen asleep. Carefully, he slid from beneath her and got to his feet, gazing down at her in wonder…then froze when he saw that there was blood on her bottom.
Hurrah! She never slept with Wickham, after all, Darcy thought. Then a new thought struck him. She was a virgin and I didn’t use any condom! We may have created a child. Mental images of little boys and girls with his unruly hair and Elizabeth’s glistening eyes running wild on the Pemberley grounds flashed through his mind.
Good! Tomorrow after the competition, I’ll ask her to move in with me, and we can get married soon afterwards.
Then another picture forced its way into his mind. He imagined hearing a high-pitched voice at his dining table – Elizabeth’s mother. She was talking about marrying off her younger daughters to his rich cousins or friends. Meanwhile, Elizabeth’s younger sisters, done up in trashy outfits, were flirting with all of the male members of the party.
All right then, he decided, no one from her family except Jane will be allowed to attend any of our gatherings.
He shuddered at the thought of Elizabeth’s coarse family members, and the involuntary movement startled Darcy out of his gloomy reverie. Aware again of his dark studio, he looked down at Elizabeth’s sleeping form and whispered aloud, “Let’s win this competition…and then we will have to talk.”
“Well now, William and Elizabeth, your hair and makeup are done, so I’ll leave you for half an hour to rest and talk about the strategy for your next dance. No one is allowed to disturb you. There are some sandwiches here, if you’d like them. Then, at 8.45, I’ll come back with the costume team to help you get ready for your freestyle dance. Just make sure you don’t mess up your hair and makeup in the meantime. By the way, congratulations on earning four 9's with your rumba!” With that, Louisa Hurst, the production assistant, shut the door and left them alone together.
Darcy saw a high-spirited Elizabeth turn in her chair. With glittering eyes, she said, “That was a great performance! You finally nailed it.”
“Finally, we have a moment to ourselves.” He left his chair, knelt in front of her, took her hands and said, “Frankly, Elizabeth, I liked the private dance we did last night on my couch even better. Our rumba just now has left me hot and unfulfilled.”
“You’ve got nerve mentioning last night!” she said, and he felt her trying to pull her hands from his.
“Why not? You and I both enjoyed it. We could relive it right now, you know.”
He lowered his head and meshed his lips with hers before she could say another word. He parted her lips with his tongue and traced her inner mouth thoroughly for several minutes. He liked the fact that her trembling tongue was playing duels with his.
His hands pushed the bathrobe aside and bared her shoulders and creamy breasts. His mouth reluctantly left her sweet lips and moved down to her delicious breasts. He laved and suckled one hardened nipple while his hand pinched the other one hard.
“Don’t!” He heard her moan.
“Too painful?”
“We shouldn’t be doing this. Someone may come in.”
“We have half an hour to ourselves. Louisa said so.” He stood up and turned away to lock the door.
When he turned back, he saw that Elizabeth risen, too, and turned her back to him. In the mirror on the wall, he saw that she had casually pulled her bathrobe up to cover her breasts, but not all the way up onto her shoulders.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he heard her whisper.
He walked back, wrapped his arms around her waist, pressed himself against her back and traced wet kisses from her earlobe to her neck and down to her bare shoulder. Then he untied the sash of her bathrobe. His hands cupped, weighing and rubbing her breasts eagerly.
He felt her shiver, and he looked into the mirror. His dark hands were a startling contrast to the snowy white skin of her breasts. Her lips were swollen by his kisses. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, half shut. The long hair piled on top of her head was in danger of falling down. This image of a sensually rumpled Elizabeth sent him into full arousal.
He pushed her bathrobe down to pool at her feet. Then, impatiently, he got rid of his. Looking into the mirror, he devoured her with his gaze, from her tiny belly button to the lush triangle at the apex of her thighs.
One of his hands left her breast and traced a hot path down her belly. “This is sweeter than last night. I didn’t get to look at your lovely body before you slipped out of the library,” Darcy signed.
Suddenly, he felt Elizabeth tremble. She turned and wriggled out of his touch.
“Damn! What are we doing here? Put your bathrobe back on!” she demanded breathlessly. Crouching down, she picked up her bathrobe, pulled it on and moved behind a chair.
“What’s wrong, Elizabeth?” Reluctantly, he also picked up his bathrobe and put it on.
“Everything is wrong!”
“Why?” Walking near her, he tried to take her hands. “I thought we had something really good going on here. I want you to move in with me after the competition.”
She stared. “You want me to move in with you?”
“Yes! I want us to get – ”
“You’re disgusting! You want to know what’s wrong? I’ll tell you what’s wrong! I gave my virginity last night to a womaniser who is arrogant and conceited. He cheated a childhood friend out of his multi-million dollar inheritance. He likes to look down his nose at family and friends whom I love a lot, even with all their faults. I just now nearly let him fuck me in a TV studio which may have cameras hidden somewhere. And now, he wants me as his live-in play thing!”
“Why are you so interested in George? He’s a low-life.”
“Oh yeah? Well, you’re high and mighty! I just hate rich men who use their power and position to strip away other people’s rights.”
“Rights? His rights? Why do I have to listen to this crap?” He walked to the door, unlocked it and was ready to storm out when Louisa burst in with three girls from the costume department.
“What have you two been doing? I told you, no messing up the hair and makeup!”
“We were … practicing our freestyle,” Elizabeth and Darcy replied in unison, then glared at each other.
It was 3 in the morning. Darcy watched Elizabeth leave the after-show party. He’d noticed that, like him, she hadn’t had much to drink, the whole night. He followed her at a discreet distance.
Luckily no one delayed his departure. She was heading towards the garden of the hotel, not back to her room. The garden was deserted, and she settled on a bench at the farthest end, behind some trees.
Summoning his determination, he approached and said quietly, “Miss Bennet, sorry to disturb you.”
She stiffened in surprise. “What do you want now?”
“You hurled some serious allegations at me, earlier. I would appreciate a chance to defend myself.”
“Allegations? They were the truth.”
“You have already listened to Wickham. Wouldn’t it be unfair not to listen to me, as well? I thought you were a defender of people’s rights.”
She glared at him, but she kept her silence. He took it as a sign to continue.
“Wickham is the son of my dad’s PA, and he’s a year older than me. My father was very fond of him, from the time he was born. When his father died suddenly when he was ten years old, their family was in a bad shape. Dad settled them in a cottage within Pemberley. George and I played together when we were young.
“My father paid for his education at a boarding school and later in university. When my father died, ten years ago, he left a piece of property in Brighton that Wickham would inherit when he turned twenty-five. Dad also left Wickham a senior position in our family business, Pemberley Finance, if he wanted to work for us.
“My Uncle Andrew was the executor of the will. Wickham approached him and said that he didn’t want to wait four more years for the property, nor did he want to work for us. Instead, he wanted to become an actor and move to Hollywood, and so Uncle Andrew settled with him the market value of the property and the equivalent of four years’ wages in the position he could have had in Pemberley Finance. All in all, George was handed more than five million dollars.
“He went to Hollywood then. Within a year, though, he’d spent all of the money. Then he came back and demanded more money and a job in Pemberley Finance. Uncle Andrew refused.
“It seems that my uncle learned that Wickham had been quite wild since his late teens, partying, drinking, doing drugs and gambling. My father and I didn’t know much about that, at the time. Wickham must have gone to great lengths to hide his bad habits from my father, during his lifetime. And since I had become obsessed with medicine by the time I turned thirteen, I didn’t know about George’s excesses, either.
“After Uncle Andrew refused his demands, Wickham disappeared from our lives…until last year. That’s when my younger sister went on a three-month cultural exchange program in Mumbai. She met Wickham there. Apparently he had gotten himself established in Bollywood.
“Georgiana, who was sixteen at that time, had been very fond of Wickham when she was young. She was soon persuaded to Wickham’s version of events, and she dated him for several weeks. One day, unannounced, I flew to Mumbai to surprise her. I arrived at her apartment and found that Wickham – that low life – had tied her to the bed, naked, with a camera rolling. He and a co-star were trying to…to force themselves on Georgiana.
“I’ve never felt so violent in my life. I nearly killed both Wickham and the other bastard. Only Georgiana’s crying stopped me. I smashed the camera and kicked them out. They hadn’t succeeded with their evil deed, but Georgiana felt utterly broken. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t bear to go out of the house. She had hideous nightmares every night for over six months.”
“Oh my god! Did you report it to the police?”
“Georgiana couldn’t face it. She begged me to take her back to Pemberley immediately. She said she had already slept with Wickham a few times, and so she was afraid, if we reported it to the police, that Wickham would claim that she was just a rich, spoilt brat who wanted to capture a threesome on tape. She didn’t want to risk facing such humiliation.”
“How is she now?”
“These past six months, Georgiana has been doing much better. She has gone back to school and is spending the summer holiday with my cousin Richard.”
Elizabeth stared at him intently. “Then what George said about you being a womanizer…that must be lies, too!”
He could feel color suffusing himself, but he met her gaze as levelly as he could and answered, “I had never been with a woman, before last night. I didn’t even know how to tell whether you’d had an orgasm, that first time. I’m so awkward and stupid in these things...”
“What? Are you telling me that you were a thirty-year-old male virgin? That can’t be true! Not in this day and age!”
“I know I’m… weird.” He swallowed hard. “But I was… traumatised by Wickham when I was thirteen.”
“That bastard! What did he do to you?”
“I can’t… tell you. I’m sorry. It’s just too painful to talk about. But the result was that I swore off of girls and women during my teenage years, when I should have been lusting and chasing after them. Then I discovered my passion for research. My mom… died slowly of heart failure. I saw her fade away over a two-year period. I wanted so badly to find a way to replace her heart.
“Even now, I seldom go out to social functions except fund-raising events for the Heart Foundation and the annual dinners of Pemberley Finance. Uncle Andrew and Cousin Richard take care of the business. On those occasions, I ask my cousins Ann, Sophie, or Cassandra to go as my partner. I only agreed to this show because Charles said that I could use it to raise people’s awareness of heart disease by talking about it in front of millions of TV viewers, rather than burying myself in research.
“I’m uncomfortable around strangers, especially someone as… expressive as your mom and younger sisters. I did say to Charles that your mother was coarse and mercenary, and that I’d prefer not to spend too much time with them. I apologise for that. I now know that I should learn to be comfortable with your family, because I…I want to have a life with you.
“When I asked you to… move in with me, I was thinking of that as our next step towards marriage. After all, we didn’t use any protection. You could be… pregnant.”
“Marry me? Are you crazy? We haven’t even gone on a date!”
“True, but you said yourself that we had been seeing each other frequently for the past weeks. You always challenged and taunted me. And you gave your first time to me. I thought that meant that you loved me as I love you.”
“How can you love me? I’m just a nurse in a small-town hospital, a nurse who happens to love to dance. You’re a world-famous artificial-heart inventor, with money to burn.”
He shook his head in stubborn negation. “You’re witty, intelligent, loyal and hot, entirely different from the fake women in the old-money circle. I was… attracted to you almost from the very beginning.”
“But you said I only had a tolerable figure!”
“That was… before I had really looked at you. Not many days after I said that, I found that I was fantasising about your body. I had so many erotic dreams about you that I started to conduct some research…”
“Research? On what?”
“On how to tell whether a woman is interested in you,” he said, pausing a minute before he continued. “Anyway, it seems that the information I gathered from the Internet was wrong. I’m sorry that I misunderstood you. Thank you for listening to my explanation.”
Darcy stopped again. He wanted Elizabeth to refute him, but she didn’t say anything, continuing to scowl at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat and said, “Will you at least promise to tell me if you discover that you’re pregnant?”
“I’ve been on the pill for months, to control my irregular periods.”
His heart squeezed. He supposed he should be relieved, but he wasn’t. He found that he could barely mask his disappointment and sadness. There wouldn’t be a little boy or girl with his unruly hair and Elizabeth’s glittering eyes after all. “Oh! Well then, I won’t… take up any more of your time, then. Goodbye, Elizabeth. Thank you for coaching me for the past two weeks, and for choreographing two brilliant dances. I’ll treasure the memory of these two weeks forever.”
He turned and walked back to the hotel. He had hoped she would stop him but she just sat there, not even saying goodbye to him.
A week had passed: 7 days, 168 hours or 10,080 minutes without Elizabeth. Darcy shut himself in the library. He wasn’t doing any research. He was simply spending every possible minute on the couch. He wanted to breathe in the remains of her lavender smell. He wanted to relive the moments when he was enwrapped and squeezed hard.
He also watched the recording of their two dances together, over and over again. He loved the rumba because Elizabeth was willingly touching every inch of his body. He could still remember her breasts tracing a dangerous path from his chest down to his thighs. Then she had moved to his back, using her breasts to draw another zigzag path from his shoulder blades down to his bottom, sending shivers through him.
After that, it had been his turn to smooth his hands all over her body, from her shoulders down to her ripe bottom. Then, turning her around, his hands had smoothed their way up from her thighs to her taut belly to the sides of her breasts.
Afterwards, their bodies were pressed together, chest to chest. He pulled her right thigh up to his hip by bending her knee. It was strongly reminiscent of the position in which they made love. Afterwards, she’d wrapped her hands around his neck while he pulled her clinging form around the dance floor. It was an erotic, sensual dance, like the mating of a loving couple.
The freestyle had been entirely different. He now understood why Elizabeth had choreographed such a dance. It was a reflection of her dislike of him. It started with a tango and ended up with a samba. First, Darcy tried to court Elizabeth in a nightclub setting. She slapped him on the face and they engaged in a hot, high-tension tango well-suited to their true feelings at that time, for they had still been angry with each other about what had happened during the break. The fight in the tango was a furious exchange reflected in their eyes, facial expressions and body language. They tore their Latin costumes to pieces in the process.
Elizabeth was left in a samba bikini with glistening fringe, and he was in a tight, sleeveless T-shirt and shorts as the tango music faded, giving way to a samba rhythm.
Seemingly tired from their fight, he sat down on a chair. Elizabeth jumped onto the one opposite and shook her generous breasts, creating a waterfall with the fringe, taunting him. Every time he shook his body samba style on the chair and pretended to kiss her breasts, she moved just out of his reach.
Elizabeth jump up from the chair and danced around the perimeter of the dance floor. He chased after her in samba moves, then pretended to slip and laid half down on the floor, still shaking his body. She came back to him, placing her feet on either side of him, then shaking her body fiercely while she moved all the way past his thighs, his waist, his chest, until she stood over his head. Half-reclined on the floor, shaking samba style, he eyed her glittering body at close range…
Watching the video, he could still remember with exquisite precision how his body had shivered when he saw her sex passing so close above his mouth. He had longed to lick her. It was a raunchy moment of erotic tension between two stubborn lovers, each of whom wanted to win over the other.
Finally, he jumped up, chased her down, and scooped Elizabeth onto his shoulder, positioning her face-down, bottom-up. He was supposed to smack her lightly to end the dance but, a bit angry, he had smacked her bottom with more force than necessary. The music stopped. The dance was over.
With applause ringing in his ears, Darcy turned her away from the camera and gave her bottom a hard squeeze before he put her down. After he released her, she had glared at him the whole time as they received their scores and won their trophy.
He had just finished watching another round of the recording when he heard a knock at the door. He didn’t bother to get up from the couch. He simply called, “Come in.”
The door opened and Elizabeth, dressed in a long dark windbreaker and high heels, came in, shut the door and locked it.
Am I hallucinating? He wondered wildly, and jumped up to stand beside the couch. He was bare-chested, wearing nothing but underpants that sported stains from where he had gratified himself while he watched the recording. “Elizabeth!” he croaked.
“William, I…”
“Don’t say a word! Let me find my jeans and T-shirt first.” He hastily pulled on his clothes, tidied his hair with an unsteady hand, sat down behind the massive desk and gestured Elizabeth to sit in the chair in front of it. “Now, what can I do for you, Miss Bennet?”
Taking her time, she sat down. Then she squared her shoulders and said, “You were very unfair, the other night in the garden of the hotel.”
Darcy's heart fell. He’d held onto a tiny hope that she had come for another reason.
“Unfair? How?”
“I let you talk, uninterrupted. But then you walked away before I could say my piece.”
“You have more to say about my failings?”
She bit her lower lip. “Not yours, but…the low-life’s.”
“Did he do something bad to you, too? I should have killed the bastard in India, while I had the chance!” He jumped up from his chair, came around the desk, paced two steps towards Elizabeth and stopped. Then, with a sigh, he went back to sit down behind the desk. “Sorry, Miss Bennet. Please continue.”
“The gossip magazines were right.”
“But you didn’t sleep with him.”
“No, it wasn’t me. But he was sleeping with Lydia, my youngest sister. I introduced them, just two weeks into the show. He got her pregnant. I blamed myself, and I bought the pregnancy test and checked out the clinics for her.”
“But Lydia was only 15 years old. Did you report it to the police?”
“Lydia said no. She said she loved him. But the bastard denied responsibility and said he didn’t know how many men she might have slept with, before and during their time together. In the end, she miscarried.”
“That was why there was so much tension between you two, towards the end of the season.”
“Yes. I asked Jimmy Forester to let me pull out, to say I was ill or had a dying relative. Of course, I couldn’t tell him about Lydia. I just said flatly that I couldn’t dance with George anymore. Forester said he would think about it, and then he pulled the partner swap trick. I think he believed that the low-life was sexually harassing me, and that he would be less likely to do so with Ann.”
“But why did you defend Wickham then?”
“I didn’t. I just don’t care for your high and mighty attitude.”
He dropped his gaze from Elizabeth’s tense face and looked down at his hands, feeling that all hope was gone. She never liked me at all.
“It was a brilliant trick. It did wonders for the ratings.”
He said dully, fighting to retain his self-control, holding onto whatever topic was available. He barely notice when Elizabeth stood up and walked towards him.
“Just good for the ratings?” she whispered in his ear.
Darcy was caught off guard. He automatically pushed himself and the chair sideways, moving away from Elizabeth…but also inadvertently opening his thighs for her to move in and stand between them. Reluctantly, he looked up. She smiled down at him, tender and teasing. “Didn’t you like the switch in partners?”
“Mmm…” He wasn’t sure how he should answer. He didn’t want to anger her with any stupid words from his mouth while she was smiling.
“Didn’t you like our samba?” She pulled her iPhone out of the pocket, pressed a button and placed it on his desk. As samba music filled his ears, Elizabeth untied the sash of her windbreaker and pushed it off her shoulders to reveal a yellow samba bikini with glittering beads and fringe.
Darcy’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He was having trouble breathing.
He watched as she put her hands on top of her hair. She began to wiggle her breasts in front of him in a rhythm that bewitched him. She then took one of his hands and placed it on her cleavage.
He felt the earth move. His hand got to touch her creamy breasts again and again as she shook them for him. She continued to dance, moving forward toward the junction of his thighs.
He felt his arousal stretching his jeans. He wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her body against his, stopping her dance. His head now joined his hand, resting on her breasts. He breathed in deeply, absorbing her lavender scent.
“You don’t hate me anymore?” he asked, and raised his head to look her in the eye.
“I never hated you,” she said softly. “I told myself that I didn’t like you…but after you were gone, I stayed in the garden for a long time, thinking about us. I admitted that you were handsome, hot and intelligent, even on the night we made love. I don’t believe I would have slept with you if I weren’t attracted to you. Then you explained everything to me about the low-life and about your…awkwardness.”
Hardly able to believe what he was hearing, he said, “Why didn’t you let me know earlier – that night? Or this past week? I spent 10,080 minutes without you, and I was in despair!”
“I had to work out my feelings. And I was waiting for you to come back to me again.”
“But you refused me. I thought you would want me to respect your decision. And I…I was afraid of more rejection.”
“But I'm afraid, too! You’re a handsome, incredibly rich man. I worried that, after a few days, you would come to your senses and wouldn’t want to bother yourself with me.”
“Never! You’re a beautiful, hot, talented woman. I don’t understand why you were still a virgin at 22.”
“I was too busy with dancing and studying. And a lot of the men in Meryton thought that John Lucas, my dance partner, was my boyfriend. Actually, he's gay. And then, when I was partnered with Wickham, he just seemed too…smooth.”
Darcy found that he could breathe again. “I’ll have to thank John, the next time I see him, for helping you save yourself for me!” Lowering his head, he licked her cleavage.
That made Elizabeth moan.
He stood up, picked her up, swept the paperwork from the desk and laid her upon it, her legs dangling over the edge. He parted her thighs and leaned his body on her, then asked, “What are we going to do now?”
Her eyes sparkled. “You’re going to make love to me on your desk. Isn't it obvious?”
“Well, yes. But I mean, are you going to be my girlfriend or something?”
She arched her eyebrows playfully. “Let me think! I’ll give you an answer after I score the performance you’re going to give in the next few minutes.” She flashed him a brilliant smile.
“In that case, I’ll implement one of the findings from my recent research.” His hands palmed her breasts and smoothed over them in a circular motion, making her nipples harden…but the beads and fringes were a hindrance. He fumbled and searched. “Where have you hidden the clip?”
“On the back.”
Darcy put his hands underneath her and tried to open the clip. He couldn’t see where it was, so he rolled her over onto her stomach.
She put her elbows on the desk, trying to turn her head to see how he was doing.
“This opening mechanism is more complicated than a car engine!” he grumbled.
“I have every confidence in your ability to persevere.”
“Finally!” He flipped open the clip. “I swear that I’ll invent a simpler opening for a bikini top.”
He was about to roll her over onto her back again, but then he was distracted by her glittering bottom. It made him remember the final move of their freestyle, When he’d had her on his shoulder. He felt a sudden urge to smack and squeeze her bottom again, preferably naked.
Undress her, man!
He pressed hot kisses on her neck, then down her spine. In one swift movement, he stripped down her bikini bottom and tossed it over his head, baring her delicious derrière.
She gasped.
He gave her a playful smack on the right cheek.
“What are you doing?” Elizabeth demanded, glaring at him over her shoulder.
He gave her another soft smack on the left side.
“William!” she scolded.
He parted her legs, lowered his mouth and kissed her inner thighs. Her bottom shook and wiggled on the edge of the desk. He then slid a finger into the secret of her sex. It slipped in easily, for she was already wet. He slid another finger in while tracing her secret lips with his thumb, and Elizabeth trembled.
“Oh, William,” she moaned loudly.
He pushed both fingers in and out of her, slowly at first, then increasing the pace. He saw her arch her upper body, and felt her inner muscles contract just before she cried out. Her elbows sagged, and she let her upper body sink back onto the desk.
Darcy pulled out his fingers, moved his hands to pull her upper body up from the desk slightly, then squeezed and massaged her breasts while he pushed his thick manhood into her from behind with force.
“Oh yes, William!” she screamed.
It was heavenly. He closed his eyes for a second and savoured the feel of her tight, wet muscles around his manhood. When he opened his eyes, the sight of their naked bodies joined together aroused him further. He felt his sex grow even larger inside her.
He saw her arch her upper body as she held herself up with her elbows and turned slightly to watch him. Her eyes were half closed, her lips parted, and her breathing had become shallow. He shifted one hand from her breasts and held her hip, while his other hand continued to pleasure her twin peaks. He pulled his manhood nearly out and pounded into her again with force.
The samba music played on, a musical incitement to riot.
He stayed inside her for a moment, grinding his tip against her womb, then pulled nearly out and thrust hard into her again. Her breasts shook with the rhythm of his pounding.
Their moans and screams became louder and louder. He felt her muscles contract around him in a wave of tremors, and couldn’t control himself any longer. His body shivered and bucked, and he spilled his seed into her, then collapsed onto her back.
After recovering for a few moments, he said smugly, “Hello, Miss Judge. What is the score for my performance?”
“Mmm… a seven.”
“Only a seven?” He had hoped that he would earn a 10 and convince her to become his girlfriend, his lover, his wife and, soon, the mother of his children.
Heartbroken, he pulled himself out of her and collapsed into his chair, his whole body sagging.
He sensed her turning to look at him, but he was too depressed to respond. He heard her cross the space, and then he stiffened in delighted surprise as she sat on his lap. “Of course a seven,” she murmured sweetly. “You will need years and years of my private training to improve enough for me to award you a perfect 10.”
“You teasing woman!” He wrapped his arm around her waist and gave her a tender kiss. “So, you are my girlfriend now?”
“Yes.”
“Will you move in with me?”
“My suitcase is outside.”
“Will you marry me?”
“Maybe, once you’ve improve on your skills enough to get an eight,” she said, and laughed.
“And that would take how many years of training?”
“Oh, at least until I reach twenty-five.”
“But that’s three years away. Please, Elizabeth, no more than a year. Don’t you know that, according to research, the earlier you become a mother, the smarter and healthier the babies will be? ”
“You talk too much about research! Just shut up and kiss me.”
In the end, they got married after two years of living together. Each year, they celebrated the loss of their virginity in the library with new dance moves. Even their four children were not allowed to disturb them on such nights.
As for the scores, Elizabeth never once awarded him a perfect 10 during their fifty years of marriage. She said it was important for a truly dedicated student to keep learning.
Darcy branched out in his inventions, not on simpler bra clips, but with ideas on how to help nurses and doctors to better care for their patients. Pemberley Inventions, when floated in the London Stock Exchange, was a huge success.
What if Mr. Darcy was a difficult boss?
Bloody arrogant pig! Elizabeth Bennet swore under her breath and saw her boss of six months walk out of the office.
Mr. William Darcy is the most arrogant jerk in the universe! she swore again.
He had demolished her hard work of an entire week in just a few minutes, criticising the design as ‘dull’ and ‘boring’.
It’s now nine o’clock in the evening, and she vowed not to waste another second slaving for him.
On the deserted office floor, she knew the best way to vent her anger. She called up her story folder, typed in the password and started writing.
Who does he think he is? W.D knows nothing about me. I confess I have feasted on the sight of him, time and time again. His physique is that of the ideal male model: six feet four inches, broad shoulders with hard biceps. His bottom is perfect and his thighs muscular. The curly hair on his chest goes wonderfully with his perpetual tan. His unruly hair begs to be ruffled. His eyes are dark and intense, and his lip begs to be passionately kissed.
He told a friend that I was a prim and proper spinster, a dull and boring secretary who did his bidding well enough, but that he wouldn’t take me out to a function. I might blend so well with the white wallpaper that people would bump into me without even noticing.
I’ve had enough of his vicious tongue. I have planned my revenge. This is the big day. He has instructed me to stay behind to work on an urgent project.
I’ll let him see just how prim and proper I’m—not! Since I’m only five feet two inches in height, there’s no chance for me to succeed with this revenge unless I use drugs, so I went to the pharmacy and bought a packet of travel sleeping pills.
It’s near eight o’clock, and the office is deserted. He asked for coffee to be brought in. “Immediately!” He used his clipped tone, as usual. I cut one pill open and put a quarter of it into his coffee cup. I don’t want him to be unconscious for too long. I made the coffee the way he likes it, then stirred it frantically.
When I brought it in, I waited for him to drink it all while I kept busy around the files near the corner of his office. After a few minutes, I could see his eyelids slowly closing. I couldn’t suppress the smile on my face. I danced out of his office and went to my desk to retrieve my bag.
Then I walked back into his office, locked the door and pulled him down from his chair onto the floor, ever so carefully. I didn’t want to injure him. He needs to be somewhat conscious when I deliver my revenge.
I took out the ropes from my bag and tied his ankles to the legs of the desk. Then I raised his hands above his head and tied them to the legs of the couch nearby.
Now that I had him positioned as I wanted, I took out a pair of scissors to cut up his Armani suit jacket and trousers, and the Ralph Lauren’s shirt. You needn’t be alarmed. I’m not a psychotic woman. I wouldn’t use the scissors on W.D’s cock or his beautiful body. But I enjoyed every minute of shredding those hateful clothes which made him look like a Greek god every day.
By the time I had him down to his underwear, he was starting to wake up. I could see his sinfully long eyelashes batting. Then his eyes opened and he looked groggily around.
He tried to move his legs and then his hands.
He raised his head and had a look at his body.
“What the fuck are you doing? Untie me immediately!”
“You’ll only hurt your wrists if you pull like that again,” I said sweetly.
“Then untie me this instant, Beth!”
“Not until after I have my revenge.”
“What revenge?”
“You told Binkley that I’m too prim and proper, dull and boring.”
“You are! Look at your clothes. You’re buttoned up to the neck, black on black, without even a necklace or earrings to break the monotony.”
“You’d better shut up.” I held up the scissors and smiled at him menacingly.
He clamped his mouth shut and looked at me with the first trace of fear.
My heart laughed but kept my face expressionless. He didn’t know that I only intended to cut off his remaining underwear.
I knelt down besides him and did just that. Hmm, he really is like a Greek god, very well endowed. I had only ever been with a couple partners before, and W.D. from this angle looks huge, even though he’s not aroused at the moment.
Then I stood up. Put the scissors away and started to undress myself. I did it slowly, intending to tantalise him.
First, I shrugged off my serviceable jacket. Then I hooked a finger on its collar, walked near him, swayed it along his chest and circled it around his cock.
Ah, he loved the caress. His arousal sprang up immediately.
I tossed away the jacket and took off my shoes. Then I started unbuttoning my black shirt, starting at the neck, while I used one of my bare feet to trace a line along his thigh.
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.
“You’re Beth and I’m W.D. What’s so hard to understand?” He breathed in heavily, then kissed her hard.
When he thrust his tongue into her mouth, she surrendered. Drawing back, she admitted having been attracted to him for a long time, despite his demeaning words about her appearance and his constant criticism of her work. Then she kissed him back passionately.
When they came up for air, he explained quickly, “I’ve always found you very handsome, handsome enough to tempt me. My initial comment to Charles was just a ruse, to cover up my over-enthusiasm for your alluring body. I was hypercritical of your work because I was frustrated every time I came near you.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re interested in me?”
“I’ve been having steamy dreams about you for nearly six months now.”
“And I have written over 400 pages of erotica about you!” she confessed, and blushed crimson.
“I don’t like your story one bit.”
“What?”
“My hands were tied in your story. I prefer this.” Darcy used his strong hands to tear open her shirt, sending buttons everywhere. “What? No leather-laced corset today?”
She licked her lips and shook her head. “But I can wear one next time, if you ask nicely.”
He flipped open her front-clipped bra, and her lush breasts sprung free, as if begging for his attention.
He squeezed one, and the nipple puckered, tall and hard. He lowered his lips to kiss it. Then he licked and suckled it, as his other hand plucked the twin peak.
Her body felt weak. She used her hands to support herself on the desk as her head lolled backward.
Suddenly, his hands abandoned her breasts and parted her legs.
“Don’t wear a pencil skirt in future!” he demanded huskily.
“What do you know about women’s skirts?” she panted.
“A-line skirts are my preference.” He pushed her tight, narrow skirt up to her waist and pulling her towards the edge of the desk. “Hmm, no garter belt. And why the underpants?”
“I might be persuaded to leave them at home if you ask nicely,” she said, provoked.
He grinned, showing his lovely dimples. “But you don’t like me being nice.” He tore off her underpants roughly and then unzipped his trousers.
She looked at his arousal with wide eyes. “You really are huge.”
He laughed heartily, then spread her legs wider. As he lowered his head to kiss her mouth, he plunged into her hot sex with one mighty thrust.
Her arms weakened as she savoured the force of his burning shaft. She slowly reclined on the desk. His mouth didn’t follow her. He used his palm to fondle her pert breasts, pushing, stroking, brushing and stimulating the creamy globes. His hips thrust in and out, forward and backward. His mouth gave out the sexiest moans and cries of ecstasy as his hard shaft created sparks inside of her.
His pounding didn’t stop until she finally succumbed to the hot waves of arousal inside her body and screamed out as she reached climax.
It took her a few minutes to return to earth. She could feel his arousal, still big and hard, deep inside her.
“You didn’t come?” she whispered.
He wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead and said, “I wanted to please you.”
She didn’t know what more he could do to please her. She had just experienced the most amazing, most mind-blowing orgasm her body could create.
But she was about to be proven wrong.
Darcy withdrew from her, picked her up and lowered her carefully onto the floor. Then he flipped her over, so that she knelt on all fours. With skilful hands, he worshipped the gorgeous twin globes of her behind, then reached beneath her to tantalise her breasts, rousing her from her satiation.
As her breath became shallower and her body tingled with anticipation, he pounded into her from behind. One hand slid from her breast to her satin belly, and then to her swollen apex. Using his fingers to rub her bud in front, he pushed into her from the back at frantic pace.
She was once again encountering an out-of-body experience. His strong, muscular body was touching her in places and ways that she had not been touched before. Their hot, sweaty bodies rubbed together. Her moans were echoed by his.
Her inner muscles were stretched and smarted, near their limit. Her thighs were forced wide by his. Elizabeth was nearing her peak, but this time she was determined to bring him with her. She squeezed him tightly, every time he plunged into her to the hilt.
Finally she couldn’t hold out any longer. Her soul flew off to the sky as her body shuddered in ecstasy – and felt him come violently, as well. His whole body was fitted tightly into hers as he shivered and trembled, spurting his seed into her body again and again with explosive force.
The feeling was beyond words. Her erotic hero on paper was nothing compared to Mr. Darcy in real life. He was like a sex god, existing purely for Elizabeth’s satisfaction.
What happened after that day? Elizabeth still wore a tight pencil skirt, serviceable bra and plain underpants to the office. And he tore several of them nearly to shreds during their late-evening office interludes, which lasted for nearly a month. Luckily, Darcy foresaw such events and stocked plenty of pretty replacements for her in his private closet.
She abandoned the 400 pages of erotica and concentrated on her real-life sex god for the rest of her life, achieving four children and countless mutual orgasms about which she could boast with him, in delicious privacy.