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Into The Dragon's Den

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Peter Jones is not impressed. Mere moments into your pitch, it would seem that he had made up his mind. His eyes dart quickly across your product as he absent-mindedly gnaws at his lower lip. "I'm going to stop you there." He holds up a hand, halting your speech in its tracks. "I'm sorry, but I don't see how your product could create even the slightest profit margin." Your lips involuntarily part, shocked at his curt interjection. As you begin to retort, he interrupts again. "No, no really. I'm serious. Your turnover is not nearly enough, even with the increased profit projected with my money."

Unable to stop your hands from trembling, you clasp them together. "Maybe one of the other dragons will invest in you today, but for that reason", he continues, "I'm out."

Anxiety builds within you as one-by-one the dragons drop out, until just Richard Farleigh remains. He purses his lips, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Well I, for one, am very interested. I think you have a fabulous idea. I think your product is going to sell fantastically well." Nodding to himself, he pushes his fingertips against each other. "I'll give you the full amount" after pausing dramatically, he goes on, "for the percentage offered."

Clasping your hands together, you cannot help but jump slightly. "Thank you so much!" You cheer, grinning broadly. After exchanging a quick 'thank you' and 'I look forward to working with you', you turn to descend the stairs behind you. Just before you can take your leave, Farleigh‘s voice echoes behind you: "Before you go, actually. I was, erm, wondering if I could take you out for dinner tonight." He asks it like it isn’t a question. After a slight pause, he waves towards the cameras, off-handedly adding, "They're not rolling anymore."

Before you have a chance to respond, Peter leans forward suddenly, taking clear issue with Richard's comment. "Now hold on just a minute. This is wholly unprofessional." He gestures towards you, aggressively. "And it's unfair on her. I highly doubt you'd be her first choice."

Turning to you with a scoff, Farleigh crosses one leg over the other. "Right, well. Who would you want to take you home tonight?" After brief murmurs of protest from Peter, he follows up with, "Well, that's what we're really asking; isn't it?" Frozen in place, you glance from Peter to Richard. Your brain feels scrambled, unable to comprehend the proposition you are being made. Inevitably, your lack of an answer prompts them to push you further. "Can't you decide?" Richard pushes.

Becoming increasingly uncomfortable, the uninvolved dragons flee the den, Debra muttering something about professionalism under her breath as she leaves. Encouraged by the crimson shade of your cheeks, he continues. "Perhaps you would like both of us, darling?" The comment causes Peter to smirk, biting down hard on his thumbnail. When you swallow, it seems to confirm Richard's suspicions.

"Hmm, is that so?" Peter muses, a smirk playing on his lips. He turns to Richard and the pair exchange a glance. "That can be arranged." Peter murmurs, observing you pensively.
Summoning the courage to make demands from such influential millionaires, you inhale sharply. "I do want you both; but separately." Your words stop short of a whimper. Mere moments ago, your heart had been racing for substantially different reasons.

Chuckling, Peter's eyes flick again to Richard's. "Feverish little thing, isn't she?" The two share a laugh.

Richard shakes his head, adding, "We'll have to make good use of that."

An idea seems to spark within Peter. "Can't wait until after dinner, can you?" He grins, staring at you as if he could devour you in an instant. "Poor little thing wants us now, Richard."

They were managing to make you squirm in place. Already, your arousal was making it harder for you to breathe regularly. Taking a laborious breath, you glance back and forth between them, managing to nod slightly as you observe their interactions. "Would you like her first, Richard?" Farleigh grins, sharp teeth showing as his lips parted. "I'll take her second. You can have her first, Peter." This was almost definitely the answer Peter was hoping for. As he stands, his tall frame towers over you. He must be a handful of inches over six foot. Just as Richard leaves the room, Peter places an arm on your waist. His blissful touch lingers and he leans towards you, breath tickling your ear as he whispers, "Sit on my table." It was an invitation you couldn't refuse. Still in his vice, you move around him, stepping backwards until you feel the cool laminated wood against your thighs. Gently but firmly, he guides you onto it. When you’re seated, Peter edges closer, forcing your legs apart with one of his. Suddenly, he’s rubbing his thigh between your legs. You’re starting to become dazed, feeling a slow build inside of you until, even more suddenly, he is no longer there.

“On the floor.” Peter growls, placing a hand on each of your shoulders to push you down forcefully. From where you now stand, your knees buckle and you drop, legs stinging from the impact.

Before you have the chance to think, he’s unzipping his suit trousers. At this height, it’s easy to see his cock strain against the fabric. The tip of his right shoe nudges at your knees, working its way through them to the top of your thighs. “Your company was never going to become self-sufficient.” He mused, freeing his fully erect cock. “I bet even after I see the cute little face you make when you come, I still won’t want to invest.” His shoe running up and down the outside of your underwear was all you could fathom; until his member forced its way into your mouth. A cry of shock was all you could muster before your pleasure began to occupy your mind once more. His movements significantly hastened, keeping a pace that was beginning to make you lightheaded.

Grabbing onto the sides of your face, he began to fuck your mouth. Desperate to please him, you avidly lick the tip of his cock, attempting to stimulate him as much as possible. His breathing has become ragged. Uneven huffs fill the silence of the den. Peter yanks at his tie, loosening it until he can pull it over his head. Still moving his foot, he leans over you until he can pull both of your hands behind you; tying them to his desk. Your lack of resistance seems to surprise him, as he whispers, “Good girl.”.

Those words send you into overdrive. Your tongue swirls around him and you can’t help but moan as you grind sloppily against his shoe. The vibrations cause him to jerk forward, letting out an almost inhuman moan as he begins slamming himself into your face ferociously. Tears well up in your eyes reflexively but the noises he’s making are enough to send you over the edge regardless. Your hands thrash against their confinements and you jerk forward, continuing to ride his shoe through your orgasm. A sinister chuckle erupts from Peter, which is quickly interrupted by a wanton moan. Between shivering breaths, he manages to speak. “Quick little whore.” Sweat glistens across his forehead as he continues to thrust. “Do you have any idea how expensive these shoes are? You’ve ruined them.” His eyes flutter closed as he continues, “Your arousal will permanently stain.” The whimper that you let out as he trusts particularly hard is enough to make him finish. Ropes of his seed spray across your tongue and down your throat. He pulls himself from your raw lips, wiping the tip of his cock on your cheek. Without a second glance your way, he turns towards the stairs. “Richard!” He calls, zipping his trousers back up. “I’m finished.”

There is a moment before Farleigh enters in which you are alone in the den. Shakily, you stand, smoothing your skirt and running frantic fingers through your hair. As Richard enters, he takes a moment to admire you. “You certainly look… used.” He smirks, making his way towards you. “I bet Peter didn’t treat you nearly as well as I will.” The lust clouding over his eyes makes your heart begin to race again. Taking your hand in his, he guides you out of the den. “There’s an office at the end of this corridor that will be perfect for us.” His hands are so much larger than yours. In the office, there is just enough light to make out it’s small black couch and grey rug.

“Take a seat, darling, you look shaken.”

You do as you’re told, perching yourself in the middle of the couch. Anxiety is beginning to bubble within you. Kneeling on the floor in front of you, Richard plants kisses along your thighs, working his way towards your already soaked underwear. At your entrance, he stops, looking up at you through lidded eyes. “You can tell me to stop at any point.” He soothes, placing his lips against your underwear. He licks the entire area. Farleigh’s saliva seeps through the fabric, mingling with your arousal. To your dismay, he removes his mouth, moving his face closer to yours. “I need to hear that you want this, sweetheart.”

Closing your eyes out of embarrassment, your answer is barely audible. “I do.”

“You do, what?”

Shame creeps up your throat as you respond again. “I want you to make me feel good, Richard.”

His right hand wrapping around your throat makes your eyes jerk open. “Beg.” His command sends shockwaves through you.

Your voice is unsteady, but you desperately want to comply. “Please, Richard, please.” As his left hand drags across your clothed center, your breath hitches.

“Please, Sir.” He orders, tightening his grip until you begin to feel lightheaded.

Desperate to feel his mouth against you, you crack. “Oh god, Sir, please pleasure me.” It feels shameful, hearing yourself sound so needy. “Please fuck me with your tongue.”

Farleigh removes his hand from your neck and uses it to steady himself before gripping your underwear between his teeth, dragging it off of you, leaving you exposed. His breath dances across your sensitive skin. Finally, he uses his thumbs to pull you apart, pushing his tongue inside you. His defined nose rubs against your clit as he jerks his tongue in and out of you. Occasionally, he pauses, moving slightly upwards to lick and suck your clit. It’s hard to imagine having been hornier in your life. As you feel your climax approaching, you grasp fistfulls of his hair, squeezing his head between your thighs. “Richard, I’m-!” You’re barely able to comprehend that his face is no longer where it should be.

With a wide grin, Richard stands, leaving you panting below him; denied. Wiping glistening arousal from his cheeks, he slips a finger into his mouth to taste you. “My, you’re eager.” Farleigh undid his belt, grasping it firmly in one hand. “Selfish little thing, aren’t you? Am I supposed to get nothing in return for treating you so well?” When you don’t respond, Farleigh strikes his belt across your thigh. A mixture of fear and arousal washes over you. “Bend over, whore. Offer yourself to me.” You comply, knees pushing into the carpet as you place your elbows atop the sofa. Wild eyes trail over you and he exhales. Once your skirt has been flipped upwards, the sound of his zipper is barely audible behind you. “Do you want me to fuck that dripping pussy of yours?”

Bracing yourself for the sensation, you nod. When it becomes clear to you that more is needed, you stammer, “Please, sir.”

As the tip of his cock runs along your folds, he groans, leaning forwards to place a kiss on your back. “Have you thought about this before?” Each word sends hot breath dancing across your skin.

“All the time.” In order to reward you for your confession, he nudges the tip of his cock inside you. Desperately, you continue, “I used to watch the show every night. When I saw you, all I could think about was what you would do to me.” This grants you another few inches. Moaning much louder than you intended, you push your entrance towards him.

“Did you come on our show just to see me?” Even though it really isn’t the truth, you nod. “Dirty fucking girl.” Suddenly, he’s fucking you, ramming into you so forcefully that you’re thrown forward with each thrust. There is no feasible way you could take all of his cock; it’s huge. Yet, as it touches you deeper than you’ve ever experienced before, your cries are of pure pleasure. You don’t want him to go slower; or more gently. You want him to fuck you exactly as he pleases. As he appears to be nearing his finish, you can’t help but gasp, releasing a strangled moan as you beg for him to come. “Oh God, Richard, please let me make you come.” Your words are definitely having an effect on him. “Use me, Sir. Please fill me with your cum.” His thrusts become sloppy as he hunches over you, pressing his sweaty form against yours.

With a fierce growl, he digs his hands into your hips. “Come for me, slut. Let me hear what sweet little noises you make when you orgasm.” His demands draw your climax nearer. “I’ll make you scream my name.” Immediately, his thrusts rapidly accelerate. Whilst one hand remains firmly attached to your hip, the other snakes around you until you can feel a large finger rubbing your clit in circles. That does it. “Oh, Richard. Oh, sir. Oh god, you’re making me-!” Feeling dizzyingly overstimulated, you orgasm, feeling your walls spasm against his cock.

“Christ-!” He groans animalistically, fucking you so hard you have to fight to stop your head from smacking against the sofa’s back. A chorus of my fucking whore, dirty little whore tumbles from his mouth as he explodes inside you. You babble something incoherent about his cock, muffling your sobs of relief with your forearm. His chest heaves as he removes himself from you with a shudder. Using his index and middle finger, he pushes some of his spend that has spilled out of you back inside. “Where it belongs.” He whispers. Before you can turn around, you hear the door click shut, leaving you alone, in the dark, to search for your underwear.