Taking another sip of my scotch, I realized that my cheeks actually hurt from smiling for the last four hours. My speech at the Regional Nursing Association Conference had gone better than I could have ever expected. Then I shook hands and answered questions for what seemed like forever. Finally, my friends pulled me away for a celebratory drink at the hotel bar, and here I sit, laughing and regaling the day with my trusted colleagues and confidants.

But all good things must come to an end. I had thought ahead this morning, I knew parking would be a mess and that I might not want to drive home tonight, so I had ordered an Uber that brought me here this morning and was set to pick me up at 11:00 p.m. tonight. At eleven on the dot, I received a text notifying me that my ride was out front. Hugs all around, I said my goodbyes, with everyone agreeing that we shouldn't wait so long to get together next time. After air kisses, I was off to meet my ride home.

As I walk through the lobby doors, the cool night air hits my face, and I inhale, feeling refreshed. I see the black sedan with the U in the window, and since there is no one else waiting for a car this late, I assume it must be for me. Sliding into the back passenger seat, I let out a deep sigh and lean my head back against the headrest. I take just a moment to let the excitement of the night wash away from me. Then I say to the driver, "Good evening, you still have my address from this morning, correct?"

He utters only, "Mm-hmm."

I figure he is as tired as I am after a long day, so I think nothing about it.

Again, I lean my head back on the seat, close my eyes, thinking past the success of tonight and forward in anticipation of my date with Mr. Darcy tomorrow. I left him a message this morning asking if he would like to make it a video date but have not heard back yet. I make a mental note to check my computer again before I go to bed tonight and begin thinking about clothing options just in case. I let the hum of the engine and the rhythmic rumble of the tires lull me into a trance. The car drives in what appears like an endless string of twinkling Christmas lights in an ebony sea to my tired eyes. We are still within the city proper, so I know we have a bit to go before getting to my house in the suburbs.

"How did your speech go, Jill?"

My eyes popped open as if I had been punched right in the gut. That voice! How can it be here? The voice. So foreign to me in this small space that I nearly choke on the musky feel of it. My bewilderment goes on for several seconds until I can finally put only two words together. "Mr. Darcy?"

"Yes, Jill, it's me."

The casual tone of his voice is maddening. It was as if this was already on the calendar with no reason for me to be shocked. Almost as if to say, "uh, duh, Jill."

"But I don't understand. Why are you here? How did you know where I was? How did you know that I was using an Uber? How is this even possible?" I was unsure whether to be freaked out and call the police or be incredibly turned on by this romantic gesture. And while I had my hand on my phone, I could also feel that a fire started to burn inside me. No one had ever done anything like this for me before, creepy or not.

"Jill, no need for you to worry about the details. I am here now, and I will take care of the rest. You just relax."

The warm syrupy quality of his deep and confident voice poured over me, and I did relax. My head was yelling, "Creepy Stalker Psycho Killer!" But the rest of my body was saying, "Who cares?" It was visceral, uncontrollable; I was powerless to this voice. I dropped the phone back into my purse and relaxed back into the seat again.

"Jill, I asked you a question."

I racked my brain, thinking through the very few words we had exchanged so far. "Oh, yes, the speech went very well. Thank you for asking, Sir.” My hand flew up to my mouth, and I internally chided myself. I remembered yesterday when I oddly wanted to end every sentence with sir; it was so silly. And now, I swear I heard him chuckle.

"And I see you chose the attire I recommended. Very good. You look quite confident and smart."

"Thank you." I stopped myself short of adding the sir this time.

"I am glad that you have had a successful day. We must celebrate, and I will not take no for an answer."

I knew there was no point in refuting Mr. Darcy at this point. So, I sat in the car seat, hearing his voice reverberate through the car like a bass drum. The sound waves both chilling me and embracing me all at the same time. As I closed my eyes, I could feel how excited I was to be this close to him, to be enveloped but that voice. My chest bellowed with increased breath, my nipples tingled with excitement, and I could feel the juices of arousal soaking through my tailored black pants onto the car seat. All this, and I still had not even seen his face in the dark night.

About fifteen minutes later, that homing beacon that we all have told me that we should be very close to my home. I opened my eyes and began to pick up my bag, but when I looked up, I realized that we were on the other side of the neighborhood.

"Mr. Darcy, I'm sorry they must have given you the wrong address because my house is on the west side of the neighborhood, back there. So, you will have to make a left up here and go back to Mulberry Lane."

"Shhhh. I told you that I’d take care of everything else, didn't I, Jill?"

"Well, you did, but..."

"No, the answer is yes. And I will. So, stop talking and trust that I will take care of all your needs."

"Okay," I said, almost in a whisper. It wasn't that I felt reprimanded; there was no malice or hostility in the voice. It was more that I felt silly for asking. Why would I need to ask when this powerful, fatherly, protective voice says he will take care of things? So, I sat in anticipation of what was coming next, how were we going to celebrate, where were we going? All the while, the fire in me grew hotter.

Mr. Darcy drove to the section of the neighborhood where the school and the public park sat, encircled by homes filled with the very families that filled those classrooms and monkey bars. He pulled in, parked the car, hopped out quickly so I still couldn't catch a glimpse of his face in the overhead light, and said, "Wait for me," before closing his door. He came around and opened my door, reached a gentlemanly hand in, and escorted me into the cool night.

I looked up, desperate to see my suitor's face but what I found was a strong chin, a dark moustache, and a black mask covering much of the rest of his face. Mr. Darcy smiled at the slight pout of disappointment on my face. He leaned down and kissed me softly.

"Don’t worry, all will be revealed in time tonight, as long as you are a good girl,” he whispered in my ear so softly and in such a low tone that I wondered if I had imagined it.

Was it the breeze, was it a car engine in the distance, or was it honestly that voice that said, “If you’re a good girl”? All that registered in the millisecond before my knees buckled, and his arm immediately caught me, pulling me back upright.

“I think I had a bit too much to drink earlier,” I stammered

“Mm-hmm,” came in a vibration more than a voice, and now with a smirk that I could see. It was a cheeky smirk that filled me with the butterflies of a little girl and the lust of a woman.

He took my hand as we began walking into the park. It was dark except for a few post lights here and there. We passed the jungle gym and the slide, the picnic area, and the merry-go-round. We came upon an open space with no trees or play equipment around. There were a few benches and a Maypole, but the site is hidden from the soft yellow light nearby. I recall this being where the kids would play football or softball after school, and there are three-legged races at the Octoberfest. But tonight, I see it differently. There is a blanket already laid out near the Maypole, and several things are on the bench, though I cannot make them out, and there is a folding chair near the bench.

Mr. Darcy leads me to the folding chair and invites me to sit. He kneels in front of me, takes my black patent heels off, sets them neatly to the side of the chair, and begins to rub my tired feet.

“Jill, tonight is about us. I want you to learn that I will always respect and protect you, but I also want to make your wildest dreams come true. Do you understand me, Jill?”

I am hypnotized by the voice that glides into my ears, as is the ever-present bass line to the symphony of music playing in my body. And now add the steady rhythm of him rubbing my feet, never wavering from the waltz beat, one-two-three, one-two-three. So many sensations are happening that I can’t even remember his question. My nipples are piercing through my shirt, while the lust growing in my core explodes through my entire body. I am on fire! My brain is trying to think of a reply just to say something!

I squeak out again, “Mm-hmm.” Rolling my eyes internally, I think to myself, yet again, Jill! Why do horny and stupid go hand-in-hand with you?

“Okay then, we will proceed. For tonight, I want to introduce you to some of the things that will make your dreams come true. You may be wondering why we are here in the park,” I nod when Mr. Darcy looks at me for affirmation. “I decided that we needed a neutral place, to begin with, and I suppose that I could have taken you to the best suite in a fancy hotel, but I love the stars, and it is a beautiful night, so here we are.”

“Come with me,” again he takes my hand and escorts me to the bench where there lay three seemingly innocuous items: a long, beautiful peacock feather, a thick silk ribbon, and a man’s tie. Mr. Darcy tells me to touch the items and run my hands over them to see there are no surprises. We have a seat on the bench, and Mr. Darcy asks, “Jill, do you remember what I promised you moments ago?”

“Umm, that you will respect me?”

“Jill, I need you to hear me, and I need you to know this. I promise that I will always respect you and protect you, and I will make your wildest dreams come true. Do you understand?”

My head clearer now, I say, “Yes, I understand.”

“Okay, then repeat it back to me.”

“You will respect and protect me but will make my wildest dreams come true.”

“Okay, good girl.”

Oh, holy hell! I was quite sure if I hadn’t been sitting down, my knees would have buckled again. And again, another visceral response, now not just to the voice, but the voice calling me a “good girl”! I could feel the liquid starting to slowly run down more and more from deep inside me, running down my vaginal walls, rushing over my g-spot, gushing out my love hole, and flowing from my lips, drenching my panties, as if there was even a dry spot left on them.

What the actual fuck? What just happened here? My brain is reeling a mile a minute. I am a strong, independent, well-educated, well-spoken woman, and two words from this masked man leave me in a puddle of goo, literally, on the floor? Ah, hell no!

Yeah, it sounded good in my head, just like Dorothy’s lion punching the air, right up until the flying monkeys flew over the yellow brick road. But then, Mr. Darcy kept true to his word.

“And because you are a good girl,” he reached back and released the mask shielding everything above his nose. Did I hear angels singing, “Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah?” Or was I just in a heightened state of arousal? Okay, probably the latter. But he was so gorgeous. Not like a debonair actor or sculpted-pro-athlete. But rather like a dad who changes the oil, coaches little league, and takes his daughter to ballet. The kind of man who watches-what-he-eats (but never turns down your apple pie) and still makes love to you like your very first-time sort of way. Yes, gorgeous in every woman’s dream sort of way!

This time when he leans down to kiss me, I am ready, and we kiss passionately on the bench under the stars. I moan softly at his tenderness, and when it turns to urgency, I follow his lead without a misstep.

Mr. Darcy pulls away, stands up, and says, “Jill, take your jacket off, fold it neatly and set it on the bench.” I obey, though still not entirely sure why, until Mr. Darcy says, “Good girl.”

The praise, his praise, is exhilarating. It is taking me beyond lust to a whole new level. What is this? Is it need? Craving? My breasts, my velvet lips, and my very core need to fulfill him so that he will fulfill me.

“Next, Jill, take your shirt off, fold it neatly and set it on the bench.” I hesitated, looking around, weighing the pros and cons. We were in the dark, and there was no one around, but that could change on a dime. On the other hand, I so wanted to go down this path with him. It was just like wearing a bikini top at the pool, right? So, I removed my red silk blouse, folded it neatly, and placed it on top of my jacket.

“Good girl,” drew from his lips like the long, emboldened notes of a pipe organ.

“Next, your trousers, take them off, fold them neatly, and place them on the bench.” I hesitated a little longer this time, having the same discussion in my head, but again landed on the fact that it is just like wearing a bikini to the pool, right? So, I removed my trousers, folded them neatly, and placed them with the other clothes.

“Good girl,” again rang the pipe organ in the night air.

I could feel the breeze rush between my legs and hit the hot nectar that was resting there. The cool air accentuated the torrid juices running down my leg, as well as those pooling in my bikini briefs. I did not know how much more I could take before pleading with Mr. Darcy to please end this and take me home to bed, but I was going to try to stay calm.

“Next, your panties, Jill, take them off, fold them neatly, and place them on the bench with the others.” My thought of the two of us at home in my bed stopped cold!

“What?” I ask Mr. Darcy, “Here?”

“Yes, Jill, here. Take off your panties here.”

I thought long and hard. This was not like wearing a bikini to the pool. I looked around at all the houses, it was late, but you just never know. Kid’s curfews were coming up, and they could be taking a shortcut through this park to get home. The fire in my stomach turned into a pit of coal.

“What happens if I say no?” I asked, less confidently than I would have liked.

“Jill, what did I promise you?”

“To always respect and protect me and to make my wildest dreams come true.”

“Good girl. And if I punished you for being uncomfortable with something that I asked on our first night together, would that be respecting you?”

“Umm, no?”

“Correct. So, if this is where your comfort lies, that is fine.” Again, that voice envelops me like a warm blanket that rekindles the fire inside me. Making me want to run up and kiss Mr. Darcy, but somehow, I knew it was better to wait.

“Now, just a few more things I think here. Sit down on the bench, Jill.” I sat down on the end opposite my clothes and the three items. Mr. Darcy goes behind the bench, stroked my hair and my shoulders, and said, “Jill, I am going to show you how we play with these three things. If you feel uncomfortable at all, you tell me, and we will stop, okay?”

I nodded in affirmation, unable to muster words as his touch consumed me.

Mr. Darcy first took the man’s tie, he put one of my arms on either side of the bench's armrest, and he bound my hands together. I focused as he did this but never stopped Mr. Darcy. I never felt uncomfortable, just anxious. He came around in front of me, kneeling to look me in the eye, and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am.” Internally, I high fived myself for producing actual words!

“Good girl.”

But my elation was short-lived as I thought to myself, if he doesn’t stop that, I will not have any juice left!

Next, Mr. Darcy picked up the long silk ribbon. It reminded me of the ones that my mother used to make sashes with for our dresses. Mr. Darcy gently pulled the hair back from my face and then tied the ribbon over my eyes as a blindfold. When I realized what he was doing, I inhaled sharply and tilted my head, but when Mr. Darcy asked if I was okay, I paused and said, “Yes.”

From behind me, Mr. Darcy leaned down and kissed my cheek, then my shoulder, then the back of my neck. He whispered, “Good girl,” into my ear on the faintest breeze, made a shiver run down my spine, and electricity run straight from my ear to my pussy. It was undeniable.

My hips rocked, my back arched, and I moaned as, “Oh, God!” escaped my lips. I knew my desperation was evident to him. Why was he doing this to me?

He was still planting kisses across the back of my neck. Or no, was he touching my leg, my upper thigh? It was so soft it was hardly discernable. Then his lips on my shoulder, but this whisper on my other arm. How was he doing this? The feather! Now I could see that long, beautiful peacock feather in my mind’s eye. Between that and his lips, he drowned me in the softest touches that felt like they were crushing me with desire. Everywhere and nowhere, because I could hardly feel each graze, but as every hair stood up on my body, I knew I was being touched.

I moaned in response to this litany of communication with my skin. I couldn’t see it, I couldn’t grab it, but I knew it was there. I tried unsuccessfully to pull my hands free of the restraint, so I could pull off the blindfold or grab Mr. Darcy and kiss him with all the passion that he had built up in me. But with no success, all I could do was sit and revel in this ethereal contact that I would never have thought possible. A similar thought passed through my mind as the one the night before, is it possible to orgasm just from someone touching my skin or kissing my neck because it’s about to happen?

“How do you feel, darling?” came the masculine, husky voice that just might drop me over the edge of the orgasm cliff at this moment.

Panting, I whisper, “I need you!”

“Good, then I think we are done here, and we should retire to your home if that is alright with you?”

I nod fervently as Mr. Darcy unties my hands and removes my blindfold. As I start to re-dress, Mr. Darcy lays one hand on my forearm and says, “Why bother with that?”

Without further question, he takes my hand and escorts me through the park to the car.

“What about all of the things you left behind?” I ask as we drive the few short blocks to my home.

“Do not worry, my girl; as I said, all is handled, and you do not need to worry about a thing.”

Without a GPS or any guidance, Mr. Darcy pulled into my driveway moments later, came around to my door, and escorted me into my own home. He led me up the stairs into the bedroom, where there were beautiful flowers on every surface and candles casting a romantic glow over the entire room.

“But, how?” I started to ask, but Mr. Darcy touched one finger to my lips gently to indicate silence.

Still, a little voice in the back of my head quietly asked, “Creepy Stalker Psycho Killer?” But I quickly shook off that feeling of doom and gave into the romance, passion, and spontaneity of the evening.

In one smooth motion, Mr. Darcy pulled me close, danced me towards the bed, and unhooked my bra, so as he picked me up and sat me back down on the bed, my bra fell off, and my breasts burst out of their containment. With just as little effort, Mr. Darcy grabbed my hips and removed my bikini briefs in one fell swoop.

I lay naked and exposed, with Mr. Darcy just staring at me, but as I start to cover up, he stops me and says, “You will never cover up this beautiful gem again.”

Tears fill my eyes, and my fires are fanned. Mr. Darcy is naked within seconds and in the bed next to me.

He kisses me deeply as his fingers slide down my collar bone, between my breasts, down my stomach, across my hips, over my mound, and glide easily between my juicy lips.

“Oh, I see you have enjoyed the evening’s festivities,” he offers, in a lion’s growl with just a touch of sweetness like honey. It was a rhetorical statement as we both knew I was ready to erupt with orgasms like a no-longer-dormant volcano.

He kisses me hard as he pushes his finger deeper into me, rhythmically, over, and over. Then he adds a second finger that slides in so easily, pulsing to the rhythm of a song I can now hear, my hips pulsing to the same beat. I moan into his kiss, then I arch up and scream, “Oh, Mr. Darcy!”

My walls squeeze around his fingers like a constrictor, and he feels the waves of orgasm pulse through me. When he senses me start to relax, he moves quickly between my legs and kisses me passionately again, pushing his stiff shaft slowly into my tight, wet pussy.

“Aahhhhh,” I moan, not expecting the penetration so quickly after my orgasm. I knew his cock looked big, but I had no idea how enormous it would feel as it filled me completely. I pushed up against him, and he thrust down on me, and I screamed when I felt his pelvis touch my ass. Holy fuck, he was deep!

Mr. Darcy raised my hips just a bit, sliding a pillow underneath for optimal pleasure, then he slowly started pumping in and out. Building up steam, he leans down and sucks on my big tits that are way more than a mouthful. I help by feeding him a hard, pink nipple upon request. This only makes him pound faster.

I am moaning and screaming his name, as well as various other profanities, till we are rocking the bed. Mr. Darcy pulls out of me, flips me over on my hands and knees, and spanks my lily-white ass. I scream in equal parts, pain, and pleasure. When Mr. Darcy sees the red spot appear on my ass, it only serves as a spark; he spanks me harder on the other cheek again and again. Each time, pounding my cunt faster, harder, and deeper.

We could each feel the volcano ready to erupt in us. “Jill, you will cum with me; get ready.”

“Jill, we are going to cum on three.”

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Now, Jill, cummm! Cum with me now!”

We both explode in ecstasy, drenching each other in that moment of euphoria while screaming each other’s names.

We collapse on the bed in a pool of cum and sweat, but neither of us cares. Mr. Darcy pulls me close and kisses the top of my head. “Oh my, you are a good girl, aren’t you?” he sighs deeply. I feel that visceral, uncontrollable tug deep down, but this time, the liquids have already drained, and at this moment, I have fulfilled him, and he has fulfilled me.

“We will sleep well tonight,” I say with a yawn.

“Oh, my girl, you have had a long day with your speech and your introduction, so you may rest tonight, but going forward, please know, this was just a small taste.”

I pop my head up and look at Mr. Darcy in disbelief. Mr. Darcy kisses my forehead and laughs a deep, belly laugh as joyous as Santa on Christmas morning.

To be continued in Chap 3…