After Hours: Black Lace Classics (13 page)

Micky was thrusting faster, faster. She felt his cock
thickening and lengthening as her spasms coiled around it, clasping it and releasing it in a frenzy. Every forwards thrust of his hips was met with an equally furious thrust of Venny’s own as she sought to prolong her pleasure. Glancing down between their heaving bodies, she could see the thick heavy shaft of his reddened and shiny cock pumping vigorously in and out of her, could see his balls swinging heavily beneath the taut rod of his penis as he moved over her. The muscles in his belly seemed to tighten as he opened his eyes, gasping, to stare into hers.

‘I’m going to come,’ he warned.

‘No, not yet,’ moaned Venny. ‘I want more.’

‘Jesus!’ Micky breathed raggedly, burying his head in her shoulder. She could see the sweat standing out on his brow as he clenched his teeth and tried to delay the culmination of his pleasure. With an almost Herculean effort, Micky grew still above her, his cock lodged deep inside her. ‘This is torture,’ he hissed, his face screwing up with the effort of not spurting into her right now.

Venny lay back with a feline smile. ‘I know,’ she whispered into his hair. ‘Oh, you’ve got so big, too,’ she murmured, moving her hips restlessly against him.

‘There’s a cruel streak in you, Venny Halliday.’ Micky grimaced but almost smiled at her tortuous teasing.

‘Big and horny.’ She moved languorously against him, pressing her naked rock-hard nipples against his chest, flattening the cushiony pads of her full breasts against him so that he could feel every lush curve. ‘But I don’t want you to come yet.’

‘So what do you want me to do?’ asked Micky, his breathing harsh.

‘Let me get on top of you,’ said Venny, and her own boldness surprised her somewhat.

‘OK,’ he moaned, and after a second to more fully regain his composure, he straightened, sliding his slick wet cock free of her. He lay down on his back on the couch while Venny clambered up awkwardly onto her knees, using her cuffed hands to lever herself around. Her breasts swung like bells as she repositioned herself. She straddled his hips eagerly.

‘God, this is even worse,’ complained Micky. ‘Now I can see your tits, and you know your tits drive me mad.’

‘You like them?’ teased Venny.

‘They’re beautiful.’ Micky reached up and clasped each silky globe in his hands. ‘When I saw you outside the bank wearing that blue raincoat, I wanted to rip it off you there and then, and suck your nipples.’

‘Well, you could have,’ said Venny, flushing with pleasure. ‘I wasn’t wearing anything underneath it.’

‘Venny, that’s rude,’ he breathed, but his cock jerked its approval. ‘Not even pants?’

‘Not even pants,’ she affirmed. ‘Just think about that. You could have taken me down an alley.’ She wriggled her hips so that his cock was neatly trapped between her thighs. ‘Unfastened my coat.’ She put her cuffed hands between her legs to find the swollen head of his cock. ‘Pushed me up against a wall.’ She stroked the red helmet softly. ‘And fucked me.’

To demonstrate the delights that might have been
available to him, Venny slid her hands further down until she held his thick slippery shaft; then she guided the tip of his penis up and into her wet and commodious hole, wriggling herself down onto him as if settling into a saddle for a long ride.

‘You can suck them now,’ said Venny when she’d got comfortable, leaning forwards so that one of her large coral-coloured nipples brushed his lips. Micky’s tongue snaked out to lap at her teat; then he lifted his head a little and formed a vacuum around the nipple with his mouth, sucking hard.

‘Oh!’ groaned Venny ecstatically. Micky’s tongue was now paddling the tip of her teat while it was trapped in the hot prison of his mouth. One of his hands gripped her hip, and the other rose to clasp her free breast. He pinched her nipple almost cruelly – perhaps to pay her back for this sweet, sadistic torture she was perpetrating against him. Suddenly the hand that had been resting on her hip was gliding between her legs and pressing hard on her mound so that her clit too was under pressure.

‘No, that’s cheating,’ complained Venny, and she tried to squirm away – but she was too far gone. It was no good. This time her orgasm was less intense but much longer, much sweeter, and her involuntary contractions finally pushed Micky over the edge of reason too. She felt him pumping hard up into her, his hips pistoning violently, felt his cock swell and swell inside her while she rode him. At last he fell back, his arms flung across his eyes in an attitude of exhausted satiation. As the last dregs of her orgasm were drained away, like the Vouvray
he had so avidly lapped from her, Venny fell across Micky’s chest and his arms came down, pinioning her there in a warm hug.

To the soft sounds of the crackling fire and the swoosh of the waves nearby, they fell asleep.

Venny awoke at dawn, just as she always did, her head full of all the jobs she had to do. It was a shock to find herself glued to the back of a hot male body and her eyes opened with something approaching alarm. Micky’s shoulders were inches from her face, moving peacefully as he breathed in sleep.

Suddenly she knew where she was, and with who, which should have made everything OK, but it didn’t. She was miserably aware of having broken one of her own golden rules – never mix business with pleasure. No doubt Micky would say rules were made to be broken, but to her rules were very much made to be adhered to.

But.

Oh, such shoulders. Her sleepy eyes roved down over his back to the well-muscled buttocks. A red flame tattoo flared on the left one, inviting her fingers to trace its flaring outline. Micky flinched in his sleep at her touch, and she drew away with a half-stifled
smile, carefully rose from the couch and tiptoed to the window.

They hadn’t even pulled the curtains across last night. Thinking about last night plastered a smile of pure delight on Venny’s face. It grew broader as she saw the view from the window. The sun coming up all golden and warm tinted the smooth expanse of the sea to the colour of treacle. The beach looked deserted, except for a few foraging gulls down by the seaweed-strewn waterline. On impulse, Venny went to the door and stepped naked out into the new morning. What she hadn’t realised last night in the darkness was that there was a little verandah on the front of the hut, with a hitching-rail like in the cowboy films and two wicker chairs to lounge in.

Enchanted by the chill of the morning against her overheated skin, Venny perched on the rail – watching for splinters – and breathed deeply of the ozone-rich air. Sitting side-saddle, she stared out at the thundering surf and at the birds, and felt something steal over her that, for a moment, she barely recognised. When she thought about it, tried to analyse it, she realised that it was contentment.

‘Venny?’

She turned her head at the sound of his voice. Micky was standing buck-naked in the doorway watching her curiously. Almost of their own volition her eyes trailed down the front of his body to where his penis lay in its black nest; and the touch of her eyes upon him had an immediate effect. Venny watched as his cock
straightened and lengthened; then her eyes lifted and met his.

‘You drive me crazy,’ he murmured, as his erection pushed up strongly against his belly.

In two strides he reached her, pushing her legs apart so that he stood between them. Venny gasped at the suddenness of it, automatically raising her arms so that they fastened about his neck as she wobbled precariously on the slender wooden rail. Micky grabbed one luscious buttock in each hand and, with one smooth movement, lifted her up and onto his cock, pushing into her with a hard and hungry motion that forced a cry of surprise and pleasure from between Venny’s lips.

This time there were no games, only a fierce, quick and elemental exchange of sexual appetites. The speed and urgency with which he came was almost shocking, and she was a little outraged in some dim, distant, cool part of her brain that he could take her like this, without consideration, without foreplay, without anything. But still, with her clit being buffeted by a series of violent impacts that sent shudders through her, Venny came. Her head went back and a cry escaped her that sounded almost like a howl of despair. It mingled with the wild shouts of the gulls further down the beach.

When she came back to herself, she was a little scandalised at her own behaviour. The other huts were some distance from Micky’s, but still – there could have been people walking on the beach even at this early hour. Someone could have seen them fucking like wild animals on the verandah. She was almost pleased
when Micky let her go. She slid onto her feet and went hurriedly inside.

‘Can I use your bathroom?’ she asked over her shoulder.

‘Sure,’ said Micky, following at a more leisurely pace. ‘What’s up?’

Venny looked back at him as he came into the little living area and closed the door behind him. He was still flushed from sex, and his penis was still up, still red and rosy and slick from her.

‘Nothing,’ she said untruthfully, and gathering up her scattered clothes she vanished into the bathroom. She showered quickly, dressed, used his toothbrush to clean her teeth and tried to reassemble the frizzed disaster that was her hair with one of his combs. Finally she emerged and instantly the scent of frying bacon assailed her nostrils. She followed the fragrant trail to the small kitchen area and found Micky there, frying bacon in the buff.

‘That looks dangerous,’ she said, unable to keep a smile from forming. ‘Um – I don’t usually eat breakfast,’ she added cautiously.

‘Venny, you have to eat breakfast.’ Micky looked outraged. ‘Protein’s what you need after last night.’

‘A transfusion is what I need after last night,’ joked Venny, although it wasn’t entirely such a big joke. Her thighs were aching, and she did feel tired. Tired, but also replete.

‘Watch this, will you? I’ll grab a shower.’

He left her there with the frying pan and the brown,
crisping slices of bacon. Venny looked at it helplessly. ‘I can’t cook,’ she shouted after him.

‘I’ll be five minutes,’ Micky shouted back.

‘Hell,’ muttered Venny as smoke began to rise from the pan. She hunted out a plate from the rack, grabbed the spatula, and tentatively scooped the bacon onto the plate. Now what? She dumped the pan in the sink and ran cold water into it. It sputtered like mad and she leapt back. She looked at the rashers. Well, they’d get cold. She fiddled with the stove and eventually located the grill. Finding the appropriate control, she set it on a low heat and shoved the plate with the bacon under it.

There.

‘OK?’ Micky was back, wearing clean jeans and pulling on a white T-shirt. His hair stuck up in all directions. He smelled delicious. His feet were bare.

‘No,’ said Venny. ‘Cooking’s for the birds.’

‘It’s easy when you know how,’ said Micky, retrieving the frying pan and cleaning it up. ‘Shove over, Venny.’

Venny moved aside and leaned on the counter watching him as he poured oil into the pan and cracked two eggs into it. They started to splash and sputter, and she moved back a little.

‘I didn’t think chefs would want to cook when they weren’t working,’ she said, watching as he deftly used the spatula to lift the edges of the cooking eggs.

‘Why not? I enjoy it.’ Micky shot her a grin. ‘Food’s more like a religion to me than a way to make bucks, Venny. It’s a very interesting subject.’

Venny gazed at him sceptically.

‘For instance,’ he said. ‘Did you know that fish and beans are very good for erections? And that too much red meat can ruin your sex drive while bee pollen can promote it? And hot foods are good for passion – chillies and onions and garlic.’

Venny had to laugh. ‘That’s always supposing you both eat the garlic,’ she pointed out.

‘Of course.’ Micky flipped the eggs onto two plates, grabbed cutlery, retrieved the bacon and doled it out. He shot her an acute look. ‘It frightens you a bit, all this, doesn’t it?’

‘All what?’ Venny asked, stiffening.

‘Your own sensuality. The extent of it.’ He was staring at her. ‘I suppose some lover let you down in the past? Did something to hurt you?’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ shrugged Venny, but she felt a blush rise into her cheeks. She remembered the disastrous business deal with her first lover, the way he had schemed to swindle her while at the same time whispering love-words in her ear. Business and pleasure, pleasure and business. She hated, in some deep visceral part of herself, to mix the two. It made her extremely nervous to be doing so again; nervous of hurt and disappointment.

‘You don’t want to talk about it? Well, that’s OK. Come on,’ he said, and in relief Venny followed him into the living room and sat on the couch with him. They ate the eggs and bacon off their laps in companionable silence. Venny dubiously tasted the salty bacon, and then discovered that she was actually quite hungry. Must be
the sea air, she thought. Or maybe all that wonderful sex. Maybe he’s right; maybe I do need protein right now. Whatever, she tucked in and cleared the plate just as Micky cleared his.

‘Coffee?’ he asked when she’d finished.

‘No, thanks. That was great. Really.’

Micky looked at her acutely, as if about to speak.

‘What?’ asked Venny.

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Sure,’ said Venny with trepidation. What now? Was he going to ask her how come she was such a lousy lay? Stupid. Of course, she wasn’t a lousy lay, but she dreaded anything puncturing the afterglow of the night they’d just spent together. One crass remark, and it’d be gone, flat as a pricked balloon after a party.

‘Is your flatmate, Dani, sleeping with my brother?’

Venny stared at him. ‘Um – you mean Caspar?’

Micky smiled. ‘I only have the one brother, Venny. Yes, Caspar.’

‘I can honestly say she isn’t,’ said Venny, relieved that she could at least tell the truth about it, if only by default. She thought of red-haired, voluptuous Flora lying sated in Dani’s bed. But then he hadn’t asked if Dani was shagging Flora, had he?

‘Good,’ said Micky. ‘Because they’re having a few problems at the moment, and I don’t think it would help.’