‘That’s your T-spot,’ whispered Micky, running a trail of light kisses over her shoulder. ‘Did you know that?’
Venny shook her head dumbly. She felt embarrassed by her lack of knowledge. She also felt that she might come immediately, just from the pressure of his hand there. It moved in a circle, exerting a steady but relentless pressure.
‘Come on, put the skirt down,’ ordered Micky, ‘I want to see everything.’
Venny complied helplessly. Her eyes opened and Micky was still stroking her stomach, his head bent over in an attitude of intense concentration as he stared at her naked pubes. His hand slid down, parting the lips of her sex. Venny leaned back instinctively, arching herself towards him. Her clitoris twitched eagerly as his fingers found it, trapped it between them, and squeezed.
‘Oh, God,’ moaned Venny, falling back onto the couch. Micky moved closer, the fingers of one hand working her smoothly while the other lifted her leg over his shoulder, stretching her wide apart for him. Venny lay back and watched, panting, while Micky slid a cushion under her hips, lifting her up until she felt as exposed and vulnerable as a gynae patient in the stirrups.
The backs of her knees were resting on his shoulders, and he was still moving those fingers on either side of her trapped and tingling clit, when suddenly he pulled back, grabbed the wine bottle and leaned over her again. He manoeuvred up onto his knees between her legs, and tipped her hips back a little higher, then trickled the sparkling Vouvray into her cunt. The bubbles exploded against her flesh like tiny bombs of sensation. The chill was like ice against the fiery heat of her groin. She gasped and squirmed.
‘Don’t you dare come yet,’ warned Micky, bending his head.
What the hell was he going to do now? wondered Venny as Vouvray trickled down between her buttocks, tickling her almost unbearably. Then Micky’s head dipped down between her legs and he started lapping the wine from her slit with his tongue.
Mindlessly Venny arched her back. Her arms went back above her head in complete surrender. Oh, that felt so incredibly good! Her fingers grabbed the plush cushions above her head and dug into them like crazy. She felt like every nerve in her body had been wired up to the National Grid, hypersensitised and jolting with the power of the charge that was going through it.
Then she felt him slipping inside her – but he was cool, not hot. She opened her eyes and looked down, trying to see past his dark, busily working head. His penis was not inside her. He had slipped one of the bananas from the bowl in instead. And now, as she groaned and lifted herself higher to accommodate this unusual offering, he had it lodged firmly, half inside her, half out; he peeled back the skin of the fruit and started to eat it from its position between her legs. As he nipped pieces from the fruit, the part of it trapped inside her jerked, stimulating her until she streamed with wetness.
He took his time. No matter how much she pleaded with him to come inside her, to hurry, she wanted him now, Micky just carried on at a leisurely pace, replenishing the Vouvray that soaked her so that she no longer knew which was her own juices and which the wine, eating the banana – and only when he had finished eating and drinking his fill from her convenient portal did he move his body up over hers.
‘Goodness, aren’t you wet?’ he observed as he dipped the head of his cock down and nudged it against her opening. He pushed it into her, just a little, just teasing her with it when she was desperate and wanting it all. ‘What a naughty, wet, lustful girl you are,’ he cooed against her ear, making her shiver with sensation. He kissed her mouth, his tongue sparring lasciviously with hers.
‘You want some more?’ he asked, gazing intently into her eyes.
Venny groaned, nodding.
Micky pushed up, just a tiny bit, and Venny’s hips made a lunge for him, trying to drag him deeper. He pulled back, denying her, but stayed inside her just enough to drive her wild with anticipation.
‘You’re so naughty, I think I’m going to have to cuff you,’ said Micky, reaching down to her jacket pocket and bringing out the feather-covered cuffs she had earlier in the evening used on him. He fastened them to her wrists, then held her wrists prisoner in one of his hands, above her head. ‘That’s better,’ he said with a roguish smile. ‘Now I can do anything I like with you, Venny. Anything at all.’
And, saying that, he pulled out of her. Venny nearly screamed in rage and frustration. She looked down between their bodies and saw his cock, reddened with passion, twitching with hunger and slick from her juices, still standing perkily upright between his thighs as he reached behind him. He turned back to her holding a ripe, fuzzy peach. Bending over her, he gently lodged the soft furry fruit over her opening, then moved further down the couch so that he could devour it, literally eat it from between her legs.
As he bit into the peach and Venny felt the cool juices flow down over her skin, Micky returned his fingers to her hungry little clit; and this time he was even more tortuous with his caresses. He squeezed her little bud between his fingers, pulling it out from her body, then letting it go. Then he squeezed again, and let it go – and so on, until she was groaning and writhing and begging him to hurry.
Finally the peach was eaten. Micky tossed the stone aside and moved up her body again, slipping his cock back into its hot, wet mooring between her thighs. This time there was no teasing half-measure. This time he pushed up into her until his penis was lodged inside her up to the hilt. He pushed in so firmly that the sensation of him filling her up was sudden and almost shocking. His balls, full and hard, slapped firmly against her. Venny let out an involuntary scream and pushed down madly to meet him.
‘Oh, yes,’ she breathed. ‘Do me, Micky. Do me now.’
‘Is that what you want?’ he teased, leaning over her, the hot length of his body pressing her down into the couch.
‘You know it is,’ she whispered, and he kissed her, and she tasted the sweet fruitiness of the peach and the muskiness of her own sex on his mouth.
Slowly Micky began to thrust inside her. The man’s control seemed almost inhuman, thought Venny, inasmuch as she was capable of sane thought at all. She was no more than a female fucking machine now; all she wanted was for him to finish what they’d started. But Micky seemed in no hurry. His thrusts into her were deep but leisurely, and Venny cried out again, feeling the glimmering threat of her orgasm hover closer as he did so.
‘Good?’ Micky murmured against her ear, biting the lobe quite hard.
‘Yes. Good,’ she breathed.
Micky’s hand went down between their bodies to rest upon that ragingly sensitive spot on her belly he had touched to such effect before. He pressed gently, and the sensation seemed to explode through her veins – his hand pressing, his penis thrusting. His hand slid down further still to trap and squeeze her clitoris. With a scream she felt her orgasm begin, her hips writhing in a crazy rhythm all of their own.
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 wh
ispered 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.
Chapter Eight
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 reass
emble 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.
After Hours: Black Lace Classics Page 10
