I could get used to this. There’s that old thought again. You tired of hearing me say it yet?

But it’s true. I’m not normally impressed by such splendor, but every once in a while, I’m reminded about the comforts I get to enjoy. Like stepping in a posh car.

No longer is a car just a way to get between places, with everything else about it being useless bullshit. No, a luxury vehicle makes the entire damn ride feel so smooth and cozy. A cocoon of extravagant hominess that magically transports me everywhere.

I realize I’m slumped halfway down the seat as I stare at Darcy, who’s staring out the window with that electric gaze. No view is safe with that stare trained on it.

“Do you dine like that every night?”

I don’t think Darcy does, but I just want to keep pulling back layers.

He takes his eyes off the view for less than a second. He flashes me that look, and he seems to be half-laughing. I’m learning he loves fucking with me like this.

“Is that what you would want?”

Darcy’s already back to looking out the window as he asks this. I don’t know what the answer is. But I’m still thinking that I could get used to this. I realize my entire life could revolve around fancy-ass wining and dining.

I want to learn every frigging thing about it. I want to visit every Michelin star restaurant in the world. I want to see lovingly plated tasting courses set before me so I can take in the aesthetics before I take in the calories.

“I could get used to it.”

This is my first time using that line with Darcy. I think it’s a good moment for it.

“What are you not used to?”

I don’t know what Darcy means by this question, but it kind of gives me butterflies.

“What do you have in mind?”

I really want to know where Darcy is going with this. Now I‘m sitting up straight in my seat, wide awake. I turn my whole body sideways towards Mr. Big, including my thighs and my knees to send the right message.

“I’m not asking about my mind. I know my mind. I know every damn corner of it, every nook and cranny. I’m not interested in it, not right now. I wanna know what’s in your mind?”

The driver very gently brings the limo to a stop at a red light. There are several cars in front of us, and cars on either side. It’s a busy intersection. Darcy’s looking at me, fucking finally. I better come up with something good.

“Is this a pop quiz? I haven’t studied.”

Is that good? Fuck.

“You’ve been studying your whole life. I’m asking about you, Lizzie. What do you wish you had? That’s what I’m interested in, and I don’t use that word lightly.”

All I want is for Darcy to keep talking, but the light is green and he’s looking out the window again. What do I wish I had? Right now, Darcy, I suppose. That’s this moment. But what else?

I’m relieved when Darcy starts talking again.

“Do you know what’s one of the best things humans do?”

“Hmm. I can’t really think of much that we specialize in. Talking, maybe? Playing the flugelhorn? Oral sex?”

“You’re getting warmer. I’ll just say it: fantasizing. Our minds can create anything, and we can live there, in our fantasies, for a bit. It’s part of being human. That’s also part of how we both make our living. You embody the fantasies of every poor slob who watches one of your shows.”

“I’ve gotta say, Darcy, that I appreciate the ride. Your driver’s doing a fantastic job with it. But what are you driving at right now?”

The limo drifts lightly over to the passing lane, and it feels like we’re floating on air. The exit, a left lane exit, is coming up soon.

Of course, Darcy’s chauffer knows how to get to the mansion by now. That thought gives me a bit of a stir, for some reason. But I do want to know what the hell Darcy’s trying to say.

As we take the off-ramp just a bit too fast, Darcy gets to the point:

“I know you have a fantasy, Lizzie. A scenario that rises above all the others in your head. I’m not just talking about any fantasy, I’m talking about the fantasy. It could be something you think is impossible, something you’re a bit afraid of, something that’s all the above and then some, but it outdoes all your other fantasies. It keeps coming back.

“That’s what I want to hear from you. Not those garden variety bullshit little daydreams. I’m interested in only your fantasy. Before this drive is over, and it almost is, I want to have that knowledge.”

Oh, that. I have a fantasy like that, naturally. No, no one else knows about it. Some shit you just keep to yourself. That fantasy I’m planning to take to the grave. But, damn, the drive is almost over.

I turn away from Mr. Big to face the front of the limo again. I realize that I’m getting ready to spill the beans on this for the first time ever—just thinking about it, I can’t even face Darcy.

I feel my cheeks flushing. I’m not much of a blusher, as you can imagine. I mean, come on. But this…this is new territory for me.

The limo is hurtling down the isolated street, and by now the sky is almost completely dark. In a few seconds, the foot of the mansion’s driveway will be in view and the ride will be over. My pulse is shooting way up, and I feel like hyperventilating. Fuck, here it goes.

“Jane and Lydia, they’re always trying to get me to…”

I can’t even finish. Darcy’s looking right at me. He wasn’t lying, he is interested.

“Take your time, Lizzie. You already started. Explain this to me.”

I swallow and try to find the words.

“Supposedly, girl-on-girl is good money…but I don’t care about that. I just…I want to have a ménage à trios. A threesome. I never have.”

I’m leaving out the most important part of it. Darcy just nods casually.

“Okay. Is that all?”

“I…want it to be for real, not just part of a show. I want to have another girl there.”

I say the last part fast, like I’m getting it out of the way. Darcy is even more casual with his response this time: a shrug.

“You should, then. Fantasy is great, but reality’s even better. Besides, that seems like an attainable goal for you. You should bring your fantasy to life.”

He’s not going to just leave me with that advice, is he? Now that I said it, I’m feeling pretty aggressive about making it happen. Like saying it aloud makes it officially something I have to accomplish or some shit. I don’t want to waste any more time.

“Nice pep talk, but there’s more you could do for me. Are you going to help me attain another goal, or what?”

Darcy’s smiling now, trying not to laugh.

“I’ll do what I can.”

“I want it to happen, tonight. I need your help, though. So, this is another fantasy, not some garden variety bullshit daydream. I want to see you do what you would do alone, while watching one of my shows. I want to see Mr. Big get off right in this fucking car. Right now.”

Darcy looks away for a moment, something seems off to him. But he’s wrong about that: everything is very, very on right now.

“Are you sure you want it this way? Now?” Darcy’s eyes are back on me, and I can feel his signature electricity, but also his warmth.

“That show I did for you, Mr. Big, was not ordinary for me. That orgasm was shattering, and you witnessed all of it. Now I have a new fantasy: I want to see you reach that point as well. We’re almost at the mansion. Do you want to help make my fantasy a reality, or not?”

Darcy picks up an old telephone receiver, part of his limo intercom system.

“Yes, could you circle the block a few times?”