Buzz, Buzz!

A random naughty bit

Liz sighed with exasperation, took a gulp of her gin and tonic, and tried once again to interrupt her friend in full flow at the other end of the phone.

"Charlotte, hang on just one minute! I do not need fixing up!" She was quite emphatic and managed to silence Charlotte for once. "I told you, I'm off men, given them up as a bad job, I am not, repeat not interested! So I will come to the party but please don't tell any of those sharks you work with that I'm interested in them, OK?"

"There are some cute blokes here, Liz, and they're not all sharks!"

All Charlotte heard down the phone in reply was a derisive snort.

"Anyway, what are you doing? When are you going to get here?"

"I'm trying to dry my hair and put my face on while slurping a gin and tonic but someone keeps phoning me up and slowing me down!" Liz said, laughing. "The taxi will be here any minute."

"OK, I get the point! I'll see you later. Come and find me as soon as you arrive."

Liz rang off, turned up the volume on her CD player, and carried on getting ready for the party. Her best friend Charlotte worked for a big investment firm in the City, and had invited Liz to the firm's Christmas party. The parties were legendary, and Liz was looking forward to the evening with only a small sense of misgiving. She was pretty sure that she could resist Charlotte's persistent attempts to set her up with some corporate lawyer or fund manager, and if Charlotte was determined to fix her up, then Liz would insist that she opened her Christmas present at the party. Liz giggled as she checked that the small oblong packet was in her handbag. Well, if Charlotte was going to embarrass her, then she had to expect revenge.

Liz walked out of the lift and into the party. The company had certainly gone all out this year, she thought. The huge top floor boardroom had panoramic views, and if she had been at all romantic, Liz would have sighed at the city lights shining below and the stars twinkling above. She scanned the room, reassured herself that the reason she had sworn off men was not there, and entered the fray. She spotted Charlotte in the throng, clutching a glass of wine and gesturing expansively, obviously in the middle of a heated discussion with the three smartly dressed executives who were held in her thrall.

"Lizzie!" Charlotte called and waved as Liz made her way over. "Here, have a drink."

She grabbed a glass of wine off the tray carried by a passing waiter, handed it to Liz and kissed her on the cheek.

"You look gorgeous! Let me introduce you. Guys, this is my best friend Liz Bennet, Liz meet Richard, Charles and Mark."

"Hello," Liz said politely, flashing warning glances at Charlotte. She caught Richard looking her up and down, and would have sworn that he almost licked his lips. She made polite conversation for the minimum amount of time she could get away with before making her escape.

"Don't you dare, Charlotte!" she hissed when she got the chance.


"You know exactly what I mean. I'm not having a repeat of last year."

"No danger, you know he's gone to the New York office."

"Good. Snobby bastard."

"I still think he had a bit of a thing for you," Charlotte grinned. "Maybe you misheard him, or misunderstood him."

"Charlotte, stop it. And no more games, OK? You've been trying to set me up with guys all year, I know your tactics now."

"Yeah, and I know yours," Charlotte laughed and began to tease Liz with a recital that had been heard several times before. "You've got your own house, a nice car, a good job, lots of independence, why do you need a man?"

"You've obviously heard what I've said, so why don't you listen?" Liz retorted, grinning.

"What about sex?"

"What about it?"

"Don't you miss it?" Charlotte asked.

"Haven't you ever heard of vibrators?" Liz said, and burst out laughing, making several people turn to see what all the hilarity was about.

Charlotte was called away by her boss, and Liz glanced at her watch. The party had been in full swing for over an hour, everyone who was due to be there was bound to be present by now, and she could relax. A reminder of last year's party was mercifully not going to happen. Liz saw that Charlotte was deep in conversation, so she walked back towards the entrance to look for the ladies' loo. As she walked into the corridor, the lift doors opened and she froze in her tracks.

"What are you doing here?" she spat.

"I could ask you the same thing," William Darcy answered sharply. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he stared at her, feeling equally shocked.

"I was invited," Liz said.

"So was I," he said, stepping out of the lift.

They stared each other out, neither willing to give way.

"I was here first," Liz said.

"I work for the company."

"In America."

"Yes, in America, but I'm back for Christmas. Not that I have to explain myself to you."

"Oh, that's just typical," Liz said sarcastically. "The great William Darcy doesn't explain himself to anyone."

Despite herself, she could feel her senses beginning to stir in a way they hadn't since .... well, since this time last year. Her mouth had gone dry and she licked her lips. William's reply was strangled in his throat as he was hit by a wave of desire. She hadn't changed. Her eyes still flashed angrily at him, her chest still rose provocatively as her anger made her breath rapidly.

"Ha!" he snorted derisively, stepping closer.

"Is that the best you can do?" Liz retorted.

"You know it isn't," he said, stepping towards her once more so that she backed away.

"Woo hoo, don't we just fancy ourselves?" Her mind was racing now, sure she was blushing, angry with herself for still being attracted to him despite everything.

"Speak for yourself," he snapped, unable to tear his eyes away from that gorgeous pouting mouth that was drawing him ever closer. Liz was now trapped, her back against the wall, and William was looming dangerously close.

"I usually do."

He could no longer hold back. He covered her mouth with his, kissing her with a sudden flaring passion.

"What do you think you are doing?" she hissed, putting her hands on his chest to break them apart.

"You know exactly what I'm doing," he smirked, as aware as she was that she had begun to return his kiss before pushing him away.

"Don't you dare!" she managed to gasp before once again he plunged, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her towards him. The feeling of his firm body pressed against her removed what little resistance she had, and she began to kiss him as ardently as he was kissing her.

"Not here," he said, grabbing her hand and turning at the sound of the lift door opening. He pulled her into the empty lift and pushed a button, closing the doors. She leaned provocatively against the rail at the back of the lift and licked her lips.

"Don't do that."

"Why not?" she grinned

"You know why not," he growled, pinning her against the wall and pressing his hips against hers. They arrived at the floor William had chosen.

"This way," he said, pulling her swiftly after him into an office at the end of the corridor. This time it was Liz's turn to trap him against the door as he turned the key in the lock. She slid her hands around his waist and pulled his shirt out of his trousers.

"You've been keeping in shape," she said, running her hands over his flat muscled stomach. He groaned at the feeling of her touch on his bare skin, and reached round to unzip her dress. He slipped it off her shoulders and began to nip at her neck with his teeth.

"So have you," he murmured as he stroked his fingers down her back and around her waist. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders and began to unfasten his shirt as he pulled off his tie then impatiently yanked the half-buttoned shirt over his head. Her dress fell to the floor and she quickly undid his trousers. Scooping her up in his arms he crossed the room and sat in a large leather chair, placing her astride him. She pressed herself against him, his erection straining his shorts as he felt her thighs squeezing him. He undid her bra, threw it to one side and rolled her nipples between his fingers as they quickly hardened. She gasped as he flicked one nipple with his tongue then sucked it into his mouth. Writhing against him, revelling in the intensity of the feelings he was delivering, she could feel him moving his hips under her. He began to push her panties away, but she grabbed his hand to stop him, wanting to both prolong the pleasure he was giving her with his mouth and torment him a little.

"Perhaps I am your sort after all," she teased.

"Never doubted it," he mumbled, moving his attention to her other breast whilst removing his hand from her grip and stroking the inside of her thigh. "Thought of nothing else all year."

She reached down and eased his shorts off as he lifted her slightly away from him and finally removed the only obstacle in his way. He threw his head back and moaned as she held his erection and slid herself against him, using him to increase her own arousal.

"Oh Lizzie," he gasped. "Why do you think I came back?"

She kissed his throat as she continued to rub herself against him, becoming even more slippery with each move of her hips. He began to play with her nipples again and she closed her eyes and whimpered with pleasure, knowing that she could wait no longer.

"For me?" she managed to whisper as she slid herself onto him, taking him inside her.

"Yes, oh yes," he cried.

As he moved inside her she lost all sense of anything apart from his touch, his fingers on the tenderest part of her, his mouth on her breast, the feeling of him filling her completely. Where his body met hers she felt ecstasy, and she thrust against him as she felt the waves of pleasure building. He forced himself to hold back and watched her cheeks flush and her breath come in short gasps as she quickened her movements, jerking against him and moaning as she came. He could last no longer, and thrust himself against her, causing her to cry out as her pleasure intensified and he exploded inside her.

William kissed her tenderly once they got their breath back, enfolding her in his arms.

"So, you do like me a little bit?" he teased.

"Well, maybe there might be something better than a vibrator after all," she replied cheekily. "But I'm still giving Charlotte one for Christmas."

This story arose from a typo in chat one night, and was written in about five minutes flat, as you can probably tell - but people seemed to like it. It was fun to write, anyway

The Angel Gachael

The Angel Gachael sat upon Cloud Nine and gazed down upon the earth. He was entranced by that beautiful blue marble floating in the dark blue sky, its oceans swelling, its green fields and forests blossoming and blooming.

What with all this blossoming, he was finding it very difficult to focus on his angelic duties (stopping the minor angels selling fake ID to the cherubs, keeping the cherubim away from the nun's enclosure especially when they had fireworks up their hosts, and persuading the Holy Ghost to stop jumping out and shouting "boo!" at newcomers). It was all too exhausting. Finally, he managed a decent lunch break, and sat down to enjoy his Caesar salad, delivered by "Et-tu bruteo" services. "About time", he thought grumpily. "If we were unionised I'd get minimum wage AND regular off duty, instead of which ..."

He was snapped out of his mood by glancing at the teleoscope, a handy gadget available only to senior angels for spying on, or rather, keeping a special eye upon, those mortals whom the angels designated as needing special care. Gachael had long since decided that a certain Elizabeth Bennet needed his special care. No matter what century, it seemed that her story was destined to include heartache and misunderstanding. Gachael had heard of reincarnation, and knew that certain belief systems thought that coming back as a dung beetle, or even a cabbage, was all part of the great plan, but he felt that Ms Bennet's constant reincarnation as a hurt, puzzled, and yearning soul was just too much. As he looked at the scene unfolding at the far end of his teleoscope, he felt an awful sense of deja vue.

"You must allow me to tell you..."

FLASH! Bolts of lightning snapped across the lens of the teleoscope.

"Long have I waited..."


"I know we perhaps got off on the wrong foot but I wondered if I could take you out for dinner?"


Snooty look, slap on the chops, chin thrust in the air as she turned to stalk away. It was always the same result.

Gachael sank back into his chair feeling quite dispirited. This Darcy guy seemed to have no clue as to how to approach a woman. It was obvious that he fancied the girl, had done for centuries, one only had to glance down the teleoscope to see that much. If only he could get a clue as to how to approach her. Some kind of divine inspiration.


He sat up and glanced around fearfully. The only problem with being in the service of an all powerful omnipresent being was that you could never tell which direction he was shouting from.


"Over here, sunshine."

Gachael glanced down as a golden sunlit path opened up before him. He scampered eagerly along the path until he was brought to a halt by a blinding light.

"I just can't seem to get the batteries sorted out on this heavenly beam thing," said God, handing a rather large torch to Gachael. "Can you fix it?"

"Yes I can," said Gachael, twiddling a small knob on the side of the torch. "There you go."

"Cool," said God. "Now, you're due a day off. It hasn't escaped my notice ("Not much does", thought Gachael) that you've been rather interested in a young lady called Elizabeth Bennet ("Actually, it's the Darcy guy..."). "And all things considered, its about time she had some luck. So. Choose your century, and off you go. Back here by curfew though. Suit you?"

"Yes, sir!" said Gachael, turning away to run to the library to research which century to choose. Not that he needed to do much research. As he ran he rehearsed the lines in his head, and played the scenes in his mind.

Early nineteenth century, oh Mr Darcy, swoon at the touch of a hand. No thanks.

Victorian England, ankles. Swoon, hmm, not quite enough.

Twenties, flappers, music swirled past him. Bombs fell, people ran screaming for shelters. Cars raced past him; loud music played. He was lost in a world he could not fathom. Gachael gasped at the speed as everyone seemed to swirl around him until he felt himself fall and his head hit something hard. His eyes closed as his world turned to blackness.

"Will?" Elizabeth nudged the comatose body of her fellow climber. She had not wanted to take on this dull man. Her darling sister Jane had fallen in love with a goofy guy named Charles who was seriously into rock climbing. Unfortunately Charles had a friend named Will. The most snooty, tongue tied, awkward snob it had ever been Elizabeth's misfortune to partner up a rockface. They had met up at Jane's flat the night before, and as they finished dinner the goofy idiot had made some comment about not being tempted by girls who weren't handsome. Handsome? What, was he into lesbians or something? Anyway Elizabeth was far too cool to be put off her climbing by a moron like him. She had gone to bed, focusing her mind on tomorrow's climb. Gachael's Reach, it was called. Everyone reckoned it was a misprint in the climbing guide book, but everyone still wanted to do it.

Now here she was at the bottom of the climb. Will had taken a fall from what was essentially a really easy move. Elizabeth was surprised that he had missed the move and annoyed that she was being held back.

Gachael opened his eyes. Narrowing them, he peered at the girl. Elizabeth! Cool! It had worked. He had managed to get himself into the body of Will Darcy. Unfortunately, whereas he might have been quite good in the body of William Darcy, 19th century gentleman who knew his way round a dance floor, he was not quite so competent as Will Darcy, 21st century bloke up a rock face.

"Elizabeth," he sighed.

"Oh, thank Christ for that, you're alive," she sighed, with a touch of exasperation in her voice.

"Yeah, well, he'd probably fix it," Gachael sighed.


"Oh, nothing," Gachael said, perking up at the sight of Elizabeth in a tight vest and lycra leggings. "Oh...."

"Are you alright?" Elizabeth asked, catching him as he seemed to swoon.

"Yes, my dear," he gasped as she caught him in her arms.

"Damn, I though this was supposed to be the other way around," thought Gachael as he swooned. "The boy is supposed to catch the girl."

"Oh Darcy," sighed Elizabeth. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

He had to keep his eyes closed for a moment just to give himself time to think.

"OK, she thinks I'm Darcy, but I'm an angel. Keep it real, man, keep it real."

"Oh Elizabeth," he said, opening his eyes and allowing his eyelids to flutter oh so tenderly.

"Darcy," she sighed.

"You've saved my life," he said softly, as he kissed her and gently caressed her.

He rolled her onto her back in the soft grass, and slowly eased her clothes away from her body, kissing her tender skin as he uncovered it and the night air caressed it.

"What if someone sees us?" she whispered.

"No-one will see us," he murmured, knowing that it was true, as no-one can see when angels make love.

They moved together, their sighs and moans reaching the heavens as hands upon skin and lips upon lips brought forth feeling of joy and delirium.

"You are truly an angel," sighed Elizabeth as she sank back satiated into the grass.

"You have no idea," said Gachael, seeing the sliver of icy gold on the horizon that heralded the start of a new day and the end of his free pass from Heaven.

"Goodbye, my love," he whispered.

"Don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Elizabeth rolled onto her side and gazed into Darcy's face. He was alive, and next to her, and as she grabbed onto him and pulled him towards her, she felt closer to him than she ever had before.

Up on Cloud Nine, the Angel Gachael sat back with a satisfied smirk on his face. Not only had he broken with convention and got Elizabeth and Darcy together at the start of a story, he'd also managed a pretty good out of body experience himself. Result!

This is a daft short that goes with one of the epics, "Someone Like You" - I still think its funny as it stands, but you can let me know what you think

Meg's story

Day 1 In the snug. Was snoozing in my chair when grumpy pants stomped in and shoved me off. Humph. Put my chin on my paws and peered up at him through my long eyelashes, but he was having none of it. Damn, but that man needs a woman. He didn't even notice that I'd crept out to the kitchen and managed to snaffle a couple of sausages while Mrs R wasn't looking.

Day 3 Yay! We're going on a trip! Himself is packing, and the Landrover is in the yard. Wonder where we're going? Hope it's a long way. He lets me stick my head out of the window, I love all those smells and I look so cute with the breeze fluffing up my ears.

Day 4 Damn! He went without me. Took the babe magnet. Why, I can't imagine. Who needs a flashy red sports car when you can drive a Landrover that's coated in yummy mud, half full of straw and sacks, and smells of sheep?

Day 5 Snoozed on my chair in the snug.

Day 6 - 12 See previous entry. What do you expect? I'm a dog!

Day 13 He's back. Talk about long face. He didn't even need to push me off my chair, one look and I was gone. My bet is, some babe really pissed him off while he was away. No-one gets that foul tempered unless they're really frustrated. And I mean, really, really frustrated. Oh, I think I just have to pop across the fields. Apparently, there's a v cute collie moved into one of the cottages. He's a collie, I'm a collie: he's mine.

Day ... Did I say I was going to keep track of days?

Anyway, back to himself. OK so he was foul for a while. Kicked doors, stared at the phone. Then suddenly, hey, sod women, he's cool! Farming rules OK. My man is back! We've been up on the moors. Chased some grouse, like, they're such a laugh, I go woof, they go wirrrrr, they fly even lower than the RAF over these moors, I swear one day one of them is going to look over their shoulder at me as I run after them, and go "slap bammm!!" into a rock. Then he'll love me. You know how much a brace of grouse cost at the market? And I can bring them in for free. He don't need a woman, what woman would bring him his dinner in her mouth?

Today, we walked up the hill. He sat on that big rock, the one that overlooks the house and the yard. He didn't see the ants, but I saw him scratching that cute bum of his as we walked back down ... anyway, he put his arm around me and sighed as he gazed at the view. I'd like to think it was me he loved, but I know in my heart that he's got his mind on some bit of totty. No doubt something he met when he was down south. Damn these southerners. Will have to bite a few pheasants. That will win him over.

Day 94 in dog years Hey where did he go? He went off somewhere. OK, if he's going to play fast and loose with my heart I'm going down to the cottages to see Butch.

Day 137 Damn, dog years go by so flipping fast! He's back. According to Mrs R, he was in London. Yeuch. You know, if you live in London, your owner has to pick up your poop in a plastic bag? And they think they're the masters? Yeah right.

Day something or other Jeez, counting stuff, why do you people do it? Anyway, we started off having this totally cool day today. Up on the moors, it was chucking it down with rain, and I so totally had this rabbit in my sights. Then Mr grumpy dropped a rock and destroyed my concentration. Ooh I could give him such a talking to. If only he understood. He reckons he does, but he doesn't know the half of it. He thinks he's so cool working with the boys, then, get this! He gets into the Landrover, drives down the top road in a total rainstorm and comes across a damsel in distress! If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it. Broken down car, we pull over, this totally gorgeous chick under the bonnet, hey talk about wet T shirt contest, no wonder he pulled over. But then he got back in the Landrover and shooed me out of the front seat like I was nothing! Hey wait just one minute mister! She may well have cute nipples in the rain but does she smile when she presents you with a dead rabbit at midnight? No, I thought not. Damn, I'm still in the back. Ooh, she leaned over and stroked my ears. I might like her after all.

Day 197? Oh ho ho. I have nothing to feel guilty about. You want to know who was creeping across the landing tonight? Hehehe. If he doesn't give me the crunchy bits off his bacon tomorrow morning, I'm telling the hens. And believe me, once the hens know, everyone knows.

Day 199 I don't believe it. One minute, it's all fabulous leftovers and plates to lick, the next minute he's gone again! And in the babe magnet. Damn that car. Mind you, the girl was kind of cute, she stroked my ears like she meant it, and when the two of them were curled up in front of the fire I almost got a lump in my throat. Then I thought to myself, who are you, bloody Lassie? Like anyone would make a story out of my life. At least I have my chair back.

Day ... who knows? And who cares? It's my chair, it's my snug. He can just go and .... oops he's back.

Day whatever You will not believe this. Himself, romantic hero (yeah right) chased down to the south and asked Ms wet T shirt to marry him. And she said yes! She can obviously cope with eau de damp sheep, my 2nd favourite smell after eau de moo poo, and she doesn't mind living with the hens from hell (if they hadn't sold the photos to OK, me and Butch could've made a go of it). But best of all, not only does she know exactly the right spot on my ears, but when the two of them are snogging on the rug in front of the fire, I get my chair back. Result!

This is the first "hot" story I ever posted - it's not exactly classic literature, but I still think it has a certain something - what do you reckon?

Icicle Works

"Have you ever wanted to be tied up?" William asked, leaning back against the bed head. He was pleased with himself for deciding to whisk Elizabeth away for a weekend, and even more pleased with himself that it had turned out to be a weekend of the sort of sensual pleasures of which he had dreamed.

"Sometimes .... how about you?" Elizabeth answered, thinking fast, as a wicked gleam appeared in her eye.

"Mmmm" he sighed. "I quite like the idea."

Before he knew what was happening, she had grabbed a silk scarf from the bedside table and tied one of his hands to the frame of the bed.

"What are you doing?" he said, surprised.

"Tying you up," she answered, as she pulled at his other arm and tied his wrist to the bed head, spreading him wide. "You said you wanted it."

William knew from the tone of her voice that she was planning on doing something to his body, something that would make him squirm and cry out for more, something that would make him feel on fire and melting as the same time. He longed for her touch as she sat back on her heels and gazed at his naked form stretched before her, tied down and helpless. A wicked grin crossed her face.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, beginning to feel nervous.

She smiled and plunged her hand into the ice bucket beside the bed. The ice bucket that had previously contained the pure pleasure of champagne, but now seemed to contain only elements of torment.

She produced an ice cube, and slowly drew circles around his nipples as he began to squirm. She bent towards him and sucked on one nipple as she circled the other one with the ice.

She leaned over him, the feel of her breasts brushing against him teasing him, as he couldn't move his arms to touch her. She kissed him slowly, tasting his lips with her tongue. Hungrily he responded as he began to feel very aroused. Elizabeth grabbed another ice cube, and began to move slowly down his body, the ice making the trail that her mouth followed. As she crossed his stomach, he began to groan.

"Elizabeth, no, don't Lizzie, please, Liz nooooo!"

She stroked the ice along the length of his erection, then as she cupped his balls in the hand still holding the ice, she took him in her mouth The heat of her mouth around him, the feeling of her lips holding him whilst her tongue flicked at him and her ice cold hands gently squeezed him made him arch his back and fight against the bindings holding his hands.

"Lizzie please, let me, oh God, I want you, what do I have to say ...?" he begged, longing to be free so that he could touch her body, caress her, lick her, do to her what she was doing to him.

She grinned, a filthy cheeky grin, and slowly slid her body up his, her hard nipples tracing lines across his chest, as his mouth gaped and tried to reach her.

"What do you want, Will?" she teased, turned on by the desire in his voice.

"Let me," he gasped. "Please let me suck you!"

She pressed her stomach against his as her breasts came within range of his mouth.

He leaned forward to take her in his mouth as she pulled back.

"Don't ... Lizzie, please, let me."

"Let you what?"

"Let me lick your nipples. You know you like it." Suddenly he realised he had one card to play. "You like it when I take you in my mouth, you like it when I bite you and suck you hard," he whispered, trying hard not to sound as if he was begging.

She leaned towards him as he put his tongue out and quickly flicked her nipple, making her gasp.

"See? Let me do it again."

She leaned towards him and allowed him to take her in his mouth, and as he sucked and licked at her, she pressed her body against him, feeling his hardness pressing into her stomach.

She eased herself away.

"One more thing," she sighed.

She put her hand in the bucket once more, drew out a handful of ice and put it in her mouth. She grinned at him as she rolled the ice cubes in her mouth then slowly lowered herself.

"No Lizzie, don't ...."

Her ice cold mouth sank down upon him, and took him in.

"Ohhhhhh my gaaaaa ohh Lizzie!"

She pulled away from him, quickly straddled him and took him inside her in one swift movement.

"Oh fuck!"

The switch from cold to heat was driving him insane. His back arched and he didn't know whether to scream or cry at the sensations she was forcing upon him.

Just as suddenly she slid off him and he was left bereft for one moment.

"You're not going to do the ice thing again are you?" he gasped.

"I might do," she grinned, then swivelled round and straddled him once more.

This time as she took him in her mouth, he had something to lick.

Slowly he stroked his tongue along her already wet opening. Knowing that she was already aroused only stirred him more, and he began to stroke his tongue rhythmically against her. As she took his erection in her mouth he pressed his tongue against her and slowly moved it back and forth, feeling her grip him with her lips as he did so. She sucked him hard and groaned, the vibrations in her throat making him moan out loud.

She didn't want to move from the wonderful wet feeling he was producing. But she knew suddenly that she wanted him to fuck her. Really fuck her, so she turned once more, held him upright and sank onto him in one swift movement.

He gasped and shut his eyes as he sank into her heat, the only thing he could think of being surrounded by hot wet flesh as she squeezed him tight. He began to move his hips under her, trying as hard as he could to push as much of himself into her

"I want you Lizzie, I really want you," he groaned.

"What do you want, Will?" she whispered provocatively.

"I want to fuck you, really fuck you ... do you want it?"

He knew that tormenting her with the prospect of a good hard fuck was his best chance of being released. His wrists were beginning to feel sore from the amount of struggling he had done against his bindings. He would promise anything in order to secure his release.

Quickly she undid his bindings and within a split second she was on her front.

He scooped his arm underneath her and lifted her hips.

"I think you want this," he said as he thrust in one fast hard movement into her.

She was so wet he nearly lost it in his first movement, but as she moaned underneath him., he controlled himself.

"Like it?" he said as he began to move in and out of her

"Harder, Will," she gasped, wanting him to fill her, feeling him reach her in her favourite ways.

They were both on their knees now as he placed his hands on her buttocks and spread her as wide as he could. He reached round with one hand and began to touch her, tease her with his fingers while all the time he pulled himself out of her as far as he could then slowly slid back in.

She was moaning underneath him now, pleading with him, groaning and begging him to go faster. His fingers played with her as he began to increase the pace. His thrusts became deeper and harder until he was pushing all of himself into her, wanting to bury his body in hers and he realised that his cries were drowning out hers.

He was going to explode. He could feel himself throbbing inside her, she was getting tighter and tighter around him as he felt he would burst.

She cried out as the waves of ecstasy took her over, losing all power of thought as she writhed and pushed herself against him, feeling him come inside her as they both cried out together.

He collapsed on top of her, panting, sweating, and wrapped his arms around her.

"Fuck me, that was good!" he gasped when he'd got his breath back.

She turned and looked at him with a very cheeky expression in her eyes.

"Want to do it again?"

Spice 'n' Jaspers

Note from the author: A not entirely definite period of history which may be contemporary, more or less or exactly.

Darcy is from Derbyshire, obviously, what with it being the best county and all that; Elizabeth is kind of unspecified northern; Bingley, although coming from the south went to University in Newcastle and hence decided (correctly) that being a northerner is much more desirable than being a snotty southerner like Caroline, and hence has adopted a cod Geordie accent. Other accents are scattered at random

And if anyone understands any of this, I'll go to the foot of our stairs.

Scene 1: the Netherfield Ball, kind of. Darcy surveyed the party, a heaving mass of cavorting bodies which did little for his sense of propriety or his desire to join in. Soon enough, he was joined by his pink-cheeked, slightly sweaty friend.

"Howay, man, why aren't ye dancin'?" Charles Bingley asked.

"There's nowt on t'floor as'd tempt me," Darcy answered. "Th'art dancin' wi' best of 'em."

"Aye, Ah noo, she's purely belter!"

"She looks well enough."

"Ye should ask her sister," Bingley suggested, pointing out a pretty looking girl sitting by herself.

"Nay, that lass does nowt fer me."

"Why aye, man, she's a canny lass," said Bingley. "Not bad lookin' and smart an' all."

"That's as maybe," Darcy answered. "But Ah'm not chasin' after any old bit of skirt, tha knows."

"Suit yerself," Bingley said and threw himself once more into the chaos of the dance floor.

Elizabeth, for 'twas she sitting alone, had heard the disparaging remark and headed across the room to have a natter with her mate Charlotte, casting a piercing look at Darcy as she passed him.

"Hey up, Charlotte," she said, approaching her friend. "You should've heard what that snotty beggar stood there said about me."

"What, him as looks like he's got a broom handle stuck up his backside?"

"Aye, that's the one," Elizabeth replied, whispering and giggling with Charlotte in such a way as to make Darcy feel most discombobulated.

Scene 2: Later "Nye, Daircy," said Caroline in a particularly annoying and piercing tone. "Aye saw yew and mai deah brother talking about the ladies at the party tonight. Weren't they all most dreadful common taipes?"

"Dunno about that," Darcy answered in his blunt northern vowels that Caroline had decided must be expunged as soon as she married him. "Sum of 'em looked areet."

"Damn," Caroline swore under her breath. "He hes a naice hice but no sense of propriety et all."

Scene 3: same time, somewhere else "Now then me ducks," Mr Bennet said to his daughters late that night. "Muther tells me you lasses had young men taking an interest toneet."

"Ooh, arr, so they did, arrr," Mrs Bennet chipped in, giving away her west country origins which she had so desperately tried to hide.

"Not me," said Elizabeth.

"I'm in lurve!" sighed Jane, having read far too many trashy magazines lately.

Scene 4: months later, at Hunsford Elizabeth was startled by a loud knock at the door.

"My," she thought. "Whoever's knockin' me up has a firm hand."

She opened the door and was amazed to find Darcy standing there. He'd tried to be nice to her in his strange Derbyshire way, forever popping up in odd bits of the countryside when she'd gone for a walk, but to call on her unannounced was rather alarming.

"Now then flower," he said brusquely.

"Now then," she replied.

"Now. Ah shan't beat about t'bush," he continued. "Tha's a grand lass, an' ah fancy thee. What dost say? Shall us marry? Or if tha don't fancy gettin' wed, we could always live over t'broom."

"Ye cheeky get!" Elizabeth replied. "Ye treat me like nowt for months and then turn up expecting a snog, a grope and a promise? Nay, be off with ye!"

And Darcy, chastened, slunk off into the night.

Scene 5: umm, London or some other disreputable place Meanwhile Elizabeth's tarty little sister, who let's be honest was a bit of a slapper, had done a runner with a squaddie.

"Oh George," Lydia sighed. "You look so sweet in your uniform."

"Less of the chatter, Lyds," he said slimily. But before he could kiss her, the door of their not so secret hideaway was pounded down by members of the Bill, and in a flurry of London accents Wickham was arrested and locked up for being a bit of a perve because Lydia had forgotten to tell him she was only 15.

Scene 6: later, in the country somewhere.

Darcy and Elizabeth strolled along the country lane, allowing Jane and Bingley to open up quite a lead, enabling both couples to have some privacy.

"There's summat I've got ter say," Elizabeth announced suddenly. "Me Aunty said y'd helped sort out our Lydia. She can be a right daft cow, an' me Dad won't do nowt to tell 'er to behave, an' me muther's a right soft touch an' all. Meself, I think she needs a right good slap, but maybe this do wi' George will bring 'er to 'er senses. Anyway. Ta. On behalf of all'or'us."

"S'oright," Darcy replied, embarrassed. "Ah did it for thee, not for thi family. Tha father couldn't sort out a bad lot like Wickham hi'sen, an' 'twas least ah could do."

"For me?" Elizabeth sighed.

"Oh aye," Darcy answered. "Ah'd do owt for thee."

"So, ye still like me?" Elizabeth whispered.

"Oh petal, ah love thee!" he declared. "Dost like me?"

"Oh aye!" Elizabeth sighed.

"Shall us get wed?"

"Oh aye!" she sighed once more as he swept her up in his strong Derbyshire arms and into a happy ever after ending.

The End

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