After Hours: Black Lace Classics
Page 11
‘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.’
Venny glanced nervously at her watch. ‘Look, we have to get back. The restaurant.’
‘I know. Give me a moment to clear up, yeah?’
Venny wandered back out onto the verandah as Micky tossed pans about in the little kitchen. She inhaled deeply and avidly drank in the scene with her eyes – the beach, the sun now shining strongly on the cerulean sea, the gulls searching for scraps at the water-line. He probably brought all his women here, gave them that sob stuff about his poor family and this hut being all he had in the world. Got the sympathy vote from each of them, screwed them rotten, and then dumped them like a hot potato fresh from the oven. She’d probably never see this place again.
‘All ready, then?’ Micky came out onto the verandah and locked the door. Venny watched him soberly as he tucked the key into its place under the pot. For God’s sake, hadn’t the man ever heard of security? But she said nothing. He turned to her. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked, a swift frown forming on his brow.
‘Nothing.’ Venny shook herself. ‘Post-fuck blues, maybe.’
He came to her and slipped an arm around her, nuzzling at her cheek with his lips. She swayed into him, inhaling the warm male scent of his skin, feeling the irresistible twitch of his cock as the front of his body connected with hers.
‘There’ll be plenty more fucks,’ he said softly.
Oh, sure, thought Venny. Sure there will. I don’t think.
‘See this.’ Micky pulled her round to face him full-on. He was holding a thin gold-coloured chain, about eighteen inches long and with a small clip at each end.
‘What?’
He pushed her blouse up, baring her breasts. Her nipples puckered instantly in the early-morning chill. ‘Micky!’ she complained, glancing back at the beach. There was a couple down on the shingle, walking a tiny terrier.
‘They can’t see,’ Micky reassured her. He took one of the clips and fastened it carefully to her left nipple. Venny gasped. It was tight, but not painful. More – stimulating, she thought. He fastened the other clip onto her right nipple. Then he gave the chain that dangled between her breasts a tiny tug. ‘Oh,’ said Venny, feeling her stomach tighten with lust, feeling her juices starting to flow all over again. The clips felt restrictive on her nipples, but the sensation was definitely more pleasurable than painful.
‘Wear this at work today,’ murmured Micky huskily, bending his head to give each nipple a salutary lick. ‘And think of me.’ He pulled the blouse back down, concealing her freshly ornamented tits from the curious eyes of the couple with the little dog. ‘Now come on. Let’s get back.’
The rest of the staff were sitting around the table drinking coffee when Venny and Micky showed up, and Venny was amused to note that it was the sight of Micky, not her, which galvanised the sluggish troops into action. He entered like a whirlwind, setting them all chopping and washing and dashing out for supplies.
‘I’m going over to collect my car,’ he told her, when he’d got the place moving. Venny was by then sitting at the table, watching all the activity going on around her while she grabbed a coffee.
‘Fine,’ she said briskly.
He looked at her, and Venny thought that she had surprised him with the coolness of her tone, but he didn’t pursue it. There was a full house for lunch and another for dinner; there wasn’t time, right now, for love-games. Or even post-fuck blues, Venny reminded herself, picking up the post and heading upstairs to her office with it. She could feel the little gold clips pinching at her nipples as her unfettered breasts swayed with each step she took. She loved the feeling; it was deeply erotic and every time she felt the tug she was reminded that Micky had placed the clips there, with the chain looped between them. Feeling distinctly moist at the thought of the pleasure they had shared, she opened the post. It was mostly rubbish – the usual get-rich-quick flyers, platinum card offers and catering supply catalogues – but one particularly fine white vellum envelope made her pause. She slit it open, read the enclosed letter, gave a shriek and immediately picked up the phone to get the kitchen extension. Neil answered.
‘Is Micky back yet?’ she asked urgently.
‘He’s just come through the door.’
‘Well, send him up, will you? And Neil, you’d better come up, too.’
They were both up the stairs and in her office within minutes.
‘What’s up?’ asked Neil.
‘Yeah, where’s the fire, boss?’ asked Micky with an insouciant grin.
‘I love it when she’s like that,’ said Micky to a dubious-looking Neil.
Venny tossed the letter across the desk to him. ‘Look at that. The Blue Ribbon judges are in the area. And we’re not ready for them.’
Micky looked at her, scanned the letter, then passed it along to Neil. ‘Sure we are,’ he said. ‘No sweat.’
Neil was reading the letter. ‘Yeah, Micky’s right. Bookings are up. Everything’s going fine.’ He passed it back to her.
Micky sat on the edge of her desk and looked at her. ‘You see? Everything’s fine.’
‘But we won’t know who they are. They’ll just book like normal customers,’ fretted Venny.
‘Does that matter?’ countered Micky. ‘All our “normal” customers are going away happy – so why shouldn’t the judges?’
Venny let out a sharp breath. ‘You’re right,’ she admitted.
‘Of course I am. Chill, Venny. Have some fun for a change.’ He gave her one of his melting looks. ‘Come on, show Neil your chain.’
Venny looked at him in bewilderment. She was still focused on the letter. ‘The what?’
‘The chain I gave you this morning at the hut,’ Micky reminded her, and his voice had thickened and deepened with the memory.
‘Oh.’
For a moment Venny was totally wrong-footed. Did Micky expect her to take it off and show Neil, or lift up her blouse and show him? She looked into Micky’s laughing eyes and knew it was the latter. It was a dare, she saw that; he was daring her to loosen up, to have fun, to stop being chilly and over-controlling Venny Halliday. His eyes told her that he expected her to bottle out, and that did it. Despite flushing with a heady mixture of embarrassment and arousal, Venny put the letter down and stood up. She slipped off the oatmeal jacket and dropped it onto her chair. She looked a challenge at Micky.
‘You’d better help me with the buttons,’ she purred, and was amused to see a jolt of surprise in his eyes as he realised she was actually going to go through with it.
As Neil watched curiously, Venny moved around to their side of the desk and turned her back to Micky. Moving close to her, Micky started to apply himself to the tiny buttons, starting at the top and working his way down; when the blouse was open and Neil could see that Venny was definitely not wearing a bra – something he’d suspected while watching her walk around the place – Micky ran a caressing hand down over her smooth, naked back, then stood back so that she could turn around.
Venny turned slowly, holding one arm across her breasts to keep the flimsy lemon-yellow material of the blouse in place there. She hitched up a shoulder, allowing the blouse to fall down one arm until that arm was free. Then she changed arms and slid the other one free. Now she was holding the blouse up over her naked breasts and both men were watching her with very close attention. Their avid gazes seemed to flood her with an exultant female power. She glanced down the front of their bodies. Micky was already erect, she could see that clearly. He made no attempt to hide the fact. But Neil was shyer, and kept his hands clasped in front of the bulge in his trousers.
‘Come on, Venny. Let it drop,’ Micky encouraged her. ‘Show Neil the chain.’
Obediently and with a thrill of arousal, Venny gently allowed the blouse to float to the floor. She stood naked to the waist before them, her finely rounded breasts glowing like polished marble in the subdued light of the office, her coral-toned nipples big and blushing to a deeper reddish tone where the two clips were fastened to them.
‘Oh, wow,’ said Neil reverently. ‘What gorgeous tits.’
Micky stepped forwards and gave the gold chain a tiny tug, pulling at Venny’s nipples in the most delightfully painful way. She groaned, and her sexual juices seemed to flow in a torrent. Micky smiled into her wildly dilated eyes and said: ‘Come and look closer, Neil. Look, the clips have made her nipples very sore – and very sensitive.’
Gently Micky unfastened one tiny clip from her left nipple, and rubbed his thumb over the reddened teat as if to soothe it. ‘Better?’ he asked in a husky whisper, leaning close to Venny.
‘No, that’s worse,’ she moaned, and he gave a low chuckle.
At Micky’s urging, Neil stepped closer, and unfastened the other clip. Growing bolder, he bent his sleek dark head and put his lips to the turgid nipple he had set free, and kissed it lightly. Venny’s head went back and the white arch of her throat was an open invitation to Micky. He trailed a line of hot kisses down its length, and then on over her collarbone and down until his spike-haired head came to rest at the other breast. His mouth hungrily sucked in her sore nipple. Venny let out a gasp and clutched at Micky’s shoulder, and then at Neil’s. She looked down, and there were two dark heads tugging at her teats, sucking and licking and biting at them. The feeling was exquisite and incredibly arousing.
‘Oh, God, yes,’ she heard herself muttering hoarsely. ‘Please, yes.’
And it seemed that both men were more than happy to accommodate her wishes. Micky’s mouth was rougher, she thought – pulling harder, sucking more firmly, revealing his more forceful personality – while Neil’s mouth was tender and gentle, almost reticent. Both were utterly delicious, and she was almost sorry when Micky seemed inclined to want to take this very enjoyable game even further. She felt his hand at the waistband of her skirt, unbuttoning and unzipping. She felt the silk-lined skirt slip down around her ankles. She was wearing no knickers.
Now it was Neil’s turn to groan as he drew back a little to stare at the tiny toffee-coloured pelt that adorned her otherwise naked mound. Venny’s dewy slit was clearly visible below it, and her legs were curving but long and graceful.
Micky gave her nipple a tiny teasing bite before releasing it. He too stared at her mound, but again he proved the bolder of the two. ‘Isn’t she terrific?’ he asked Neil, and ran one long-fingered hand down over her fluttering stomach, tangling his fingers into her pubic hair before dipping down even further to slip two fingers between the plump lips of her labia. He spread his fingers, opening her wet centre for Neil’s inspection.
‘Look how wet she is. Touch her,’ he invited, like a gourmet bidding a friend to try a truly excellent titbit. Neil seemed only too happy to oblige. He reached out and pushed two fingers into the opening Micky had made ready for him. Surprising Venny with his boldness, Neil then continued, angling his digits upward until they found and penetrated her vagina. Venny opened her legs a little wider to his questing fingers, aware that Micky was still close and holding her open for Neil, aware of her own panting breaths and the hurried, excited breathing of the two men. She looked down the front of Neil’s body; as he pushed his fingers in and out of her in a seductive rhythm, his cock inside his tight black trousers reared and sank to the same tune.
‘You want to fuck her?’ Micky asked him, placing a fraternal hand on the younger man’s shoulder.
Neil at once regained his sexual shyness. His pumping fingers slowed, and Venny groaned a protest.
‘Don’t stop,’ she begged, pushing down frantically onto him, her wetness making tiny sucking sounds as she clutched at him.
‘Only if she wants me to,’ he said reticently.
Does he think I’m going to fire him over this? Venny wondered wildly. Doesn’t he realise that I want this just as much as he does, that Micky has orchestrated this just like he orchestrates a sumptuous dinner, and that I’m loving it?
‘I want you to,’ Venny gasped. She leaned her nude buttocks against the desk so that he could get into her more easily. Neil, released from his restrictive and mistaken belief that he was doing something wrong, plunged yet another finger into her waiting snatch and found this offering to be instantly and gratefully accepted. Venny moved back until she was actually sitting upon the desk, her legs splayed wide. Her naked breasts swung and bobbed crazily as she got comfortable, straining Neil’s self-control to its limits.
‘See? She wants it,’ said Micky.
He ran a contemplative finger over the tiny questing nub of her exposed clit, then caught it between two of his fingers and tugged it teasingly. Venny cried out and pushed her hips hungrily forwards. ‘Look at that. She wants it desperately,’ Micky pointed out. ‘Have you seen horses mated, Neil? No? Well, there’s always a handler to keep the friskier fillies in order.’ He tweaked her clit quite roughly, and Venny leaned back onto her elbows, more than ready to proceed now. ‘And if the stallion’s having trouble getting mounted, the handler helps him in. Like this.’
Venny watched, panting hotly, while Micky unbuttoned the waistband of Neil’s black trousers and then unzipped his fly. He reached into the slit in a red pair of commodious boxers and pulled out Neil’s fine, bright-pink, naked cock, which was shorter than his own, but very thick.
‘Nice cock,’ he congratulated Neil, and had the audacity, Venny saw, to stroke it, running his fingers up it from its base among a jungle of red matted hair up the shaft to its fierce pink helmet which was already opening its little eye and displaying a tiny pearl of pre-come. Neil seemed not to object to this caress; indeed, Venny thought that he rather enjoyed it, to judge from the sudden mad twitching and rearing of his prodigious organ.
Neil’s fingers, buried up to the hilt inside her, were quickly withdrawn and Neil moved eagerly between her sprawled thighs to lodge his aroused cock where he wanted it most.
‘Ah, not so fast,’ Micky cautioned the eager young man. ‘The handler has to do the tricky parts, remember? The filly has to be still.’ He glanced at Venny, who was writhing with impatience. She grew obediently still. ‘That’s better,’ he praised her. ‘And the stallion has to be assisted, to make certain that his cock goes in properly. Now, Neil.’
Micky firmly took hold of Neil’s turgid flesh and pushed the swollen head down between Venny’s soaking-wet slit. She arched up instinctively, but at a warning look from Micky she grew still again. Venny felt the big organ slip over her clitoris in its little hood, nudging hard at her most tender part. She gasped. Then Micky, taking extreme care and far too much time, she thought irritably, sought out her vagina and with the greatest care pushed the reddened glans up and into her.