Still, there was fun to be had here; fun for both of them in a little play-acting.
Abruptly Micky pushed Venny back against the wall. She hit it with a thump and a gasp of surprise. He followed her, pressing his body hard against the front of hers, staring into her startled eyes from inches away.
Venny could feel Micky’s erection pressing against her. ‘Do you know,’ he said softly, menacingly, ‘what I am going to do with this?’
He brandished the imitation penis under her nose. Venny nearly went cross-eyed trying to look at it. Her eyes went back to his.
‘No,’ she said with feigned wariness.
‘Use your imagination,’ he suggested, then stepped back and hauled her forwards, flipping her deftly over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. All the air went out of Venny as her midriff hit his hard-muscled shoulder. She often forgot, because he was slim and compactly muscled, just how strong he was, how strong he had to be, to withstand the workload that was an everyday part of being a professional chef. But she was aware of it now, meltingly aware in every sinew and cell of her own body.
Micky went into her bedroom, still carrying her, kicking the door closed behind them. He dropped her across the bed, where she bounced judderingly. He stood over her, watching the quiver of her breasts until the motion was stilled. Venny looked up at him. She was panting and her breasts rose and fell agitatedly with each quickened breath. She was enjoying herself, eager to see what he would do next, but she had to admit that the three men’s unexpected entrance had been a bit frightening, and she was using the adrenaline rush of fear to stoke the fire of her own lust for gratification, playing the weak and helpless female to his marauding warrior – and enjoying every second of it.
‘Please don’t hurt me,’ she whispered pleadingly, while her eyes danced and played lusty games with his.
‘Maybe I ought to,’ said Micky roughly, playing along too as he tossed the vibrator onto the bed and quickly stripped off his white shirt. Venny gazed admiringly at his sparingly muscled but gorgeously well-toned torso, his strong well-defined arms. Her eyes slipped lower.
‘God, you are such a randy little bitch,’ said Micky, seeing where her eyes were resting. They both looked down. His upright cock was pressing against the material of his trousers with an urgency that surprised neither of them. ‘You want it, don’t you? You want it up you, hard and hot.’
Venny nodded slowly.
‘Say it,’ hissed Micky.
‘I want it,’ said Venny softly, gazing up at him with her eyes all slumberous with desire.
Holding her eyes with his own, Micky undid the button at the waistband of his trousers. With a sharp movement he pulled down the zip on his fly; then he kicked off his shoes and pushed the trousers down and off. When he straightened he was naked, but one hand concealed his balls and his tumescent cock from her hungry eyes. Cupping himself, Micky came down onto the bed, opening her legs with a rough movement and moving up between them. Exposed and wet with longing, Venny lay there and waited to see what he would do now. Still Micky kept himself hidden from her, and she wanted, wanted desperately, to see him, to touch him.
She reached out as if to do so, but Micky snapped: ‘No. Turn over.’
Hesitatingly, Venny did as she was told. She shivered with a delicious sense of dread at how cold he sounded, how very controlling. Almost brutal. She shivered again, her nipples rising to urgent peaks that tormented her so that as she turned face-down on the bed she rubbed them furtively on the dark red velvet throw that served as a bedcover. Um, she loved velvet. Particularly on her nipples when they were so hard, so desperately in need of stimulation.
‘Say it all. Say you want it up you, hard and hot,’ ordered Micky, yanking two pillows from under the cover and thrusting them under her pubes. Hopelessly aroused, she ground her pudenda into the pillows. ‘And stop that,’ he said. ‘I’m going to pleasure you; I don’t want you pleasuring yourself. Now say it.’
Venny squirmed, feeling his hard furred thighs moving in close behind her where she lay spread-eagled, her bottom hiked up in the air by the pillows. If she was any the less rabid for sex from him she would have felt incredibly embarrassed. He must be able to see everything – her anus, her snatch, her lust-swollen labia, even surely a teasing glimpse of her clit, swelling hungrily within its little hood.
Suddenly she heard a steady humming start up. She saw Micky reach out for the lubricating jelly she kept on the bedside table, but she couldn’t see what was going on behind her and it was starting to worry her slightly. What was he going to do with her?
‘Say it,’ he ordered again, his voice husky with passion.
‘I want it,’ groaned Venny into the velvet cover. ‘I want it up me, hard and hot.’
‘Take it, then,’ he murmured, and she felt him slip between the widespread cheeks of her bottom. Oh, he was big. Hugely, satisfyingly big, and she wriggled back as far as she could, ready for him, more than ready. Micky easily found the waiting wetness of her and pushed in a little; and as he did so Venny abruptly realised from the strange rubbery feel of him that this in fact was not him at all, that this was the vibrator. She let out a faint moan of protest and pleasure as the steadily thrumming thing went deeper into her, deeper, and suddenly Micky pushed it hard, all the way into her, so that she was filled utterly, and the tiny protrusion at the base of the vibrator pressed firmly upon her clitoris.
She gasped and squirmed as the thing moved against all her most sensitive places, tears squeezing out from between her lashes as she screwed her eyes tight shut, becoming nothing but an entity designed for receiving sensation. And such sensations. The vibrations from the fake penis seemed to generate sparks from everything it touched. Micky pushed it relentlessly in and out of her, as if this huge cock was his own, as if he personally was fucking her. At every thrust her clitoris was bombarded with startling shafts of pleasure.
Her soft inner walls, flowing with moisture to more ably accommodate this rubbery intruder, were pounded by wave after wave of almost unbearably exquisite feelings. Her G-spot was assailed time after time by the most excruciatingly intense stimulation until she couldn’t bear it a moment longer and her climax gripped her. She screamed once, loudly, and then caught in the grip of her orgasm pushed back in a desperate rhythm to milk every last drop of pleasure from it.
Finally she lay still, spent; but Micky had only just started. He eased the vibrator out of her; Venny moaned, missing it instantly, wanting it back inside her, but helpless to do anything right now but lie there and wonder what the hell he was going to do next. The humming stopped. Distantly she heard a wail.
‘What the hell?’ asked Micky.
‘It’s Dani,’ she mumbled into the coverlet. ‘Come inside me now, please, Micky. Right now.’
‘God, haven’t you had enough yet?’ he whispered, bending over her back, slipping his hands between the overheated skin of her midriff and the coverlet, then easing them up until they cupped her breasts.
Venny moaned again, squirming pleasurably back upon the pillows until her still needy cunt connected with Micky’s hard, muscular thigh. She rubbed herself against it like a cat, and like a cat she purred with pleasure as she did so.
‘Hot little bitch,’ said Micky, his body curving over her back as he smoothed his hands over the big pale globes of her breasts. He tweaked her nipples almost painfully as he kissed and bit at her neck, making Venny squirm even harder with lust.
She could feel his rough, crinkly pubic hair tickling her left buttock as he leaned hotly over her; she could feel the rigid, heavy length of his erect cock resting upright against her bumslit. Micky squeezed her nipples harder, and Venny experienced a fluttering echo of her first orgasm. Her fingers clawed madly at the velvet throw. One of his hands left her breasts and slipped back between their sweat-sticky bodies. He pushed his penis down, reversing its cosy position between her legs, and she moved back eagerly, expecting him to come inside her vagina; but instead Micky pressed his damp glan
s to the little puckered ring of her anus, and pressed forwards, moving with extreme gentleness until he was lodged just a little inside this forbidden place.
Venny considered protesting. She had never been buggered before, and wasn’t entirely sure that she really wanted to be buggered now, but Micky was being so excessively careful with her, easing in, just easing so smoothly, so steadily, and then tickling her clitoris with the fingers of one hand, arousing her all over again, overcoming her doubts, overcoming the sudden restrictive tightening until he was in, completely inside her, and she found to her amazement that she loved it.
‘Oh, you like that?’ Micky cooed against her shoulder, kissing her hot skin as he gasped, mustering all his self-control so that he should not climax too soon while lodged inside so deliciously forbidden a place.
‘You’re so tight,’ he complained aloud, groaning as he fought for restraint, keeping still for long tortuous moments until the urge to come, and come right now, had passed.
‘Tighter than in the front?’ asked Venny almost shyly; she wasn’t used to talking during sex, but Micky seemed to see it as part of the pleasure, and could talk dirty enough to drive her completely insane with desire.
‘Much tighter. Feel that.’ And he pushed in, right up to the hilt, but so gently, so carefully, before drawing back his swollen rod. A droplet of sweat dropped from his brow onto Venny’s back, and he licked it away with slow enjoyment, tasting her sweet milk-scented skin, his own saltiness. ‘Tight, see?’
‘Mm, tight,’ groaned Venny, sprawled on the bed without a movable bone in her body. She felt as limp, as spineless and relaxed, as a jellyfish.
‘That’s it, relax. Chill,’ he said encouragingly. Too late, thought Venny. This was wonderful. Her tightness and the huge dimensions of his penis combined to generate a heady elixir that she found she couldn’t get enough of. She was so sensitive to every move he made, and he was just as badly affected; she could tell that by his tortured breathing, by the heavy pushing of his rock-hard balls against her buttocks, by the spasmodic movements of his hands as they grasped her waist, held her still for him.
‘Jesus, I’m going to come,’ Micky gasped through clenched teeth. Venny didn’t care in the least. She wanted him to come, she wanted to feel that happening to him while he was in her forbidden place. She turned her head, smiling lazily, enjoying this so very much; and caught sight of their reflection in the mirror on her dressing table through the wild tangle of her hair.
With a careless movement she swept her hair back, and looked at the tableau so unexpectedly revealed to her. She could see herself lying prone on the bed, could see her raised hips resting on the pillows and the full soft undercurves of her breasts. She watched, fascinated and aroused, while Micky pushed his hands under her thighs and lifted them up on either side of his waist, creating a wheelbarrow effect, her as the barrow, him as the pusher.
And push he did now as she subtly altered shape inside, allowing him even greater access. Venny watched him, his straining shoulders as he held her up gleaming under a gloss of sweat, his head scrunched down onto his neck and his face screwed up in intense concentration. His buttocks were clenching and unclenching furiously as he pushed, withdrew, pushed and withdrew from his tight nest. The flame tattoo was clearly visible, glowing red and angry and seeming almost to ripple and come alive as his muscles moved restlessly under his skin.
But again his control was amazing. While she was all but biting the coverlet with the extent of her excitement, he paused again, paused and pressed hard on that slow-down spot that was situated between his anus and his cock. He threw back his head and his face was momentarily contorted as if in pain. Turned on by the sight, Venny moaned and writhed briefly, but he had her totally in his control, holding her immobile while he set the pace.
‘Oh, Micky, please finish me,’ moaned Venny.
Micky’s contorted face softened into a grin as he paused and stared, panting, at her tousled head. Seeing which way she was facing, his own head turned fractionally, and he saw the mirror. Their eyes met in the mirror.
‘Why, Venny Halliday, what a wicked girl you are,’ he murmured. ‘You’ve been watching me.’
‘Mm,’ said Venny, having to lick her terribly dry lips before she could speak now. She could feel a thunderous, cataclysmic orgasm hovering in the pit of her belly, in her breasts, in her clit and her cunt and her arse, her soft arse where he was lodged as hard and unbending as a maypole thrust up in spring.
‘Say please, then,’ said Micky, holding her gaze in the mirror before glancing down almost admiringly at the thick root of his cock, settled so cosily against the puckered gate of her anus.
Venny squirmed and then relaxed hopelessly. ‘Please, then,’ she muttered. ‘Please! Please, you bastard, come on, do it, finish me – please!’
Even before she’d finished hissing her wanting and needing at him like a curse, Micky moved, pulling out from her almost completely. Venny, watching in the mirror, saw the slick and thick redness of his heavily lubricated cock slip out of her, and then she saw it and felt it plunge back in. Again and again he drew right back, then launched himself into her anew. His hands dug almost painfully into her waist but she hardly felt it. Her entire being was focused, completely centred, on the building sensations he was causing her to feel. She seemed to open and open ever further for him, like a flower opening to the sun. Finally she collapsed forwards onto the coverlet, clutching at it, muffling her own screams with the thick red velvet as she came again, ferociously, wave upon wave of acute bliss that left her feeling wrung out and as lifeless as a rag doll.
‘Jesus,’ moaned Micky, and she felt him coming too. His cock grew harder, fuller, and then she felt the wild pumping of his ejaculation. Every muscle in his body seemed to be straining towards this final victory. When at last he relaxed, sinking back onto his knees behind her, he let her thighs drop back to the bed and then put his arms around her waist, pulling her up against his body so that she knelt in front of him. His hands slid up and cupped her breasts, and his hot mouth kissed the curve of her neck, his chin scratching at the ravishingly sensitive skin there in the most delightful way.
‘Darling, darling Venny,’ he murmured against her feverish skin, letting his penis slip free of her at last. It lay heavy and wet and still stiff against her buttock. Irresistibly Venny reached a hand behind her to stroke it, admire its size, its strength. ‘Don’t even think about it for the next ten minutes,’ said Micky on a half-stifled laugh, his voice muffled by her neck.
‘I can’t promise not to at least think about it,’ Venny chuckled, warmed by the way he was cuddling her so close. So many men were remote after lovemaking, yet Micky loved to cuddle, to hug and sleep close after coition, then wake in the morning and start all over again. And he’d called her darling. Darling Venny. She thought that was sweet, really nice. Of course it didn’t mean that he didn’t say exactly that to every other girl he slept with, she reminded herself sternly, but, somehow his saying it made her feel special, appreciated.
‘Well, maybe I can give you something else to think about. To distract you,’ said Micky, kissing her, making her shiver all over again with the feel of his mouth against the ultra-sensitive skin of her throat.
‘You can try,’ she whispered happily, sinking back against him as he linked his arms around her waist. His cock was still remarkably full, but sinking to half-mast now. She snuggled her buttocks against it.
‘Only I was thinking,’ said Micky, biting her ear, ‘that I might sell the hut. You’re right. The market’s buoyant, demand’s high. I’d get a really good price for it.’
Venny glanced back over her shoulder at him in surprise. ‘But you said—’
‘I know what I said. I said it was more important to me than money, and it was. It is. But I’ve been thinking that it could be good for both of us to get things on a more equal footing. So look. I could sell the hut, and sink some of the cash from the sale into the restaurant, we can agree a sum between u
s. I can buy myself into a partnership with you. I know you’ve got cash flow problems, anyway, and I thought—’
Venny stiffened. ‘What do you mean, “you know”.’
‘Well, of course I know,’ said Micky mildly. ‘I see the takings, and you tell me they’ve doubled since I’ve been here.’
‘They have.’ Venny was beginning to get a horrible creeping feeling about all this.
‘There you are, then. And you were at the bank when we had that little shunt, weren’t you?’
‘And you jumped to the conclusion that I was having cash problems?’ He’d jumped to the right conclusion there, thought Venny with rising irritation. And it was true what he was saying; he had seen the number of covers they were doing now, and she had told him that takings had doubled, and maybe she had brought this whole damned thing on herself by being loose-lipped with him, but she had trusted him. She had thought he had integrity. She had thought that what they had together was something rather more than a business opportunity.
‘It showed up on the computer, too,’ said Micky, nibbling delicately at her earlobe.
Computer? thought Venny. What computer? He couldn’t mean her computer? There was only a till link downstairs, and all her accounts and personal information files were blocked by passwords. No. He couldn’t mean her computer.
‘Do you mean the computer in my office?’ she asked numbly, thinking that she really, really didn’t want to hear the answer, but she had asked the question now, it was too late, too late. She thought of Caspar, his brother, the IT specialist. Oh, no, she cringed. Oh, no. Micky was trying to screw his way into a partnership with her – just like Bill Thompson had, just like that very first rat of a man had. That was what men did, in her experience. Screw her, get their hooks into her money, then dump her. She had thought Micky was different. She had certainly hoped so. But she had very obviously been wrong.
‘Look, I’ll own up to the fact that I had Caspar help me check out the accounts,’ said Micky apologetically, perhaps feeling the sudden chill wind of Venny’s disappointment.
After Hours: Black Lace Classics Page 14
