Read After Hours: Black Lace Classics Online
Authors: Crystalle Valentino
‘Bill?’
Bill looked over his shoulder and his conker-brown eyes lit up with pleasure as they met her more cautious green ones. His lashes were black but a bit sparse, thought Venny. And then she thought that she was being over-critical, and she ought to let herself go more, just like Dani said. Loosen up, she told herself impatiently. You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself.
‘Venny,’ Bill greeted her, and turned back to the pot, stirring it gently. Venny could see his balls hanging
down between his legs, and she imagined that she could see the tip of his cock too.
But she probably couldn’t.
In fact, the tip of his cock was probably up around his navel right now, at the head of a giant erection, because the thing they had been side-stepping around for the past few weeks was finally going to happen, and he wanted it even more than she did. For her, there was regret mingled with the excitement she felt. For him, there was just the excitement.
‘Feeling hot tonight?’ Venny joked lightly, and then wondered if she should joke at all. Bill was notoriously prickly, and men were endlessly sensitive about women who laughed during sex. Then the fact that she was having to censor her thoughts and her speech in her own damned restaurant caused a stab of impatience, even irritation, to dull her desire just a tad.
Must be the heat, she thought. Summer in London with its mild micro-climate was often oppressive. And summer in a restaurant kitchen was always hellishly hot, in the low hundreds, and now there was a storm coming in fast, stoking up the humidity to boiling point. They didn’t run to air conditioning. She wished they did, but for the moment she really could not afford it. But at least the venerable old building with its age-blackened beams and peculiarly sloping floors and walls was cooling now that the restaurant was empty.
A sudden thought occurred to her, a thought that was shocking but titillating too.
‘Bill, have you been like that all night?’ she asked, and
her mouth was so dry with anticipation and nervousness of what was to come that she had to lick her lips before speaking.
‘Sure I have.’ He laughed softly, then shook his head. ‘Just joking. Of course I haven’t. Although it was tempting at times, if only to try and cool down. Little Jane was so hot that I told her to wait topless on the tables. She wouldn’t of course. Far too respectable. We were all a bit disappointed. She has such sexy little breasts, don’t you think? Small but high. And you can always see her nipples through those sports bras she wears, like fat little buds.’
Venny declined to comment, feeling her desire slip down another notch. Yes, Jane had delightful little breasts. She would grant her that. But when a man was seducing you, did you really want to hear about another woman’s nipples and how he and the rest of the male staff letched after them?
Hardly.
‘Yes, it must be nice in this heat,’ said Venny tersely. ‘Being small-breasted.’
‘Not a problem you have, though, is it?’ said Bill, with an admiring leer at her front.
This wasn’t going at all like Venny had planned. Every cloddish word he uttered seemed to shrivel her desire for him just a little more. In fact, every time he opened his mouth he was sticking his big foot straight in it. As a teenager, Venny had had a complex about her big tits. Hunch-shouldered and cross-armed on all public occasions, she had desperately tried to conceal
them. Later, she began to see them as a bonus. And so did every man she had ever slept with. Not that there had been that many. She was cautious in love as well as business. All right,
too
cautious. But the habit of holding back, maintaining a distance, was so ingrained with her that it seemed she was never going to shake it off, even if she wanted to. And right now she wasn’t sure she did.
Venny reached the hob where Bill was stirring the pot. From the front, she had to admit, he looked even better. Naked to the waist as he was, she was able to admire his solid chest with its dark flat nipples. Black hair circled them in hypnotic swirls and then feathered down the centre of his chest. His stomach, considering the huge amount he could pack away while raiding the larder after the lunchtime session, was pretty flat. And then there was the apron, which obscured her view until it reached his knees. Then his calves – thick and well-shaped and strong. He was built like a rugby player.
As she drew close she caught a tantalising whiff of his sweat, and an acidic waft from whatever he had in the pan. A blast of heat caught her, too, from the hob. She leaned a hand on the cool counter beside the hob and watched for a moment.
‘So what
is
cybersex?’ she said at last, wondering if he was one of those tedious closet computer nerds, and hoping the explanation was going to be brief.
Bill gave her a warm grin. He was completely unselfconscious about his near-nudity, Venny noted. She found herself wondering what his mouth would taste like.
‘Haven’t you been reading the articles in the press, Venny? Cybersex is hot, right now. The ultimate safe sex. Fantasy and flirtation. All in the head.’
Venny chewed that over. Anything involving computers sounded dull as hell to her. They were tools to do jobs with: nothing more, nothing less. ‘All good sex starts in the head,’ she pointed out. She’d read it somewhere and, what’s more, it was true.
‘Yeah, but it progresses to the body, doesn’t it? And how can it, when one person is in, for instance, Scotland, and the other’s in Tahiti or some Godforsaken hole?’ Bill tutted and stirred the pot a bit. ‘All these women getting hysterical about their partners getting involved with people online! That’s cybersex, Venny.’
Fascinating, thought Venny, not without irony. ‘They could meet,’ she suggested offhandedly.
‘And find each other repulsive?’
‘Well, it’s a possibility.’
‘God, it’s hot. Aren’t you hot?’
‘A bit, yes.’ Venny laughed. ‘You want me to go topless, too?’
‘I’d like that.’ Bill’s face was suddenly earnest. He switched off the hob and turned towards her. He glanced down. ‘You see how much I would like it?’
Venny’s gooseberry-green eyes dipped down to the front of his apron. Below the tightness of the apron’s waist-ties, his cock was forming a small tent. Her eyes flicked back up and met his.
‘Well, why not?’ Heartbeat accelerating, Venny unfastened the single button on her jacket and slipped
the well-cut garment from her shoulders. She draped it over a nearby stool. The black body was still decorous, even demure. ‘How about that?’ she teased with a smile.
‘More,’ said Bill, his eyes taking on a glaze of lust.
Raising her eyebrows at him, Venny slipped her fingers under the body’s spaghetti straps and eased them down over her arms. Shaking out her loosely curling blonde hair in a provocative movement, she pushed her thumbs into the top of the clingy fabric and in one smooth movement pushed the body down around her waist.
‘Enough?’ she asked, then flinched a little as thunder roared overhead and the storm edged closer.
‘Nowhere near,’ said Bill thickly. At least she had his full attention now.
‘OK.’ Venny tossed back one hank of hair, then the other; but, as she did so, she covered each breast with the palm of a hand. Now her hands covered them instead of her hair, and her eyes were teasing.
‘God, Venny,’ he growled, and touched a hand to his urgent, aching penis.
‘Goodness, such impatience,’ she purred, and let her hands fall to her sides.
Bill stared at her breasts like a man spotting a waterhole mirage in a desert. She had always suspected he was a breast man, and she didn’t know what that said about him, but she suspected it meant he was a bit too macho for her taste, perhaps a tad less than super-intelligent.
Well, that was OK. It really was. Tonight, it was just fine, and she let him look, and felt pretty excited herself
just by doing that simple thing. But when it seemed he might stand there all night just looking, Venny felt that perhaps it was time to move things on. She stepped towards him, intending to kiss and caress him, when suddenly Bill moved, and they collided a bit hectically, Venny unable to stifle a giggle. Bill frowned sharply at her levity before clamping his big hands over her breasts with a grip like a Sumo.
Yep, a breast man, she thought, flinching with discomfort. And he was certainly a big man, looming over her, his cock prodding at her stomach. She felt moisture seeping through down there, just above the waistline of her skirt, a tiny hint of pre-come which stirred an answering excitement in her. But Bill was busy kneading her breasts like dough.
Unsubtle technique, she thought, and then, with a conscious decision to stop thinking, she let herself get into it, absorbing the sensation of this man, these big capable hands pushing and pulling at the very sensitive flesh of her breasts. Now he was grabbing a nipple between finger and thumb, and his head was going down.
Oh! That was nice. Venny put her arms around his neck and leaned into his mouth as he suckled her. His mouth was very hot and very wet and her nipple seemed directly connected to her sex by sizzling nerve-endings. Unconsciously her head went back and her hips tilted forwards, and the urgent prod of his cock was as stiff as steel now, while her cunt seemed to liquefy in anticipation.
As Bill’s mouth worked, so his hips began to move against hers. His lips sucked at her erect nipple, and his hips pushed. His whole mouth took the nipple in, and his hips retreated. Over to the other nipple now, and his teeth nipped her quite sharply so that she cried out in a crazy mingling of pain and pleasure. His hips pushed forwards. His tongue paddled over her nipple, crushing her with a weight of delight, making her legs go weak, and then his hips went back, but she placed her hands on the silky skin of his big buttocks and drew them back again to her, urgently.
In a trance of passion, Venny was aware of Bill’s hands working at the apron’s ties. When he tossed the apron aside, his cock, suddenly unrestrained, sprang up between them as if spring-loaded. Almost shyly Bill placed his hands on his hips and looked down at his swelling penis, and now it was her turn to look.
And wow, it was impressive. Bill’s cock was directly in proportion to the rest of him. It was big, red and thick. A rug of black pubic hair framed it like velvet flung beneath a prodigious coral carving. And his balls were heavy, hanging so temptingly between his furred thighs. Venny reached out a tentative hand and touched them, making them swing lightly. Bill groaned and grabbed her hand, keeping it there. She squeezed them obligingly, feeling them start to lift and harden.
‘You like it?’ gasped Bill. He was still pushing his hips forwards almost automatically, and Venny was treated to the sight of his glans rhythmically pushing out beyond his foreskin like a child playing peek-a-boo.
He put a hand to his cock but quickly removed it. He was too aroused to take much more stimulation, she saw.
‘It’s … gorgeous,’ Venny murmured, and felt that mad desire to laugh surface again. She stifled it, knowing he’d be terribly hurt if she let the fast-building guffaw escape. ‘Really, it’s wonderful,’ she affirmed, frowning with the effort of suppressing her mirth.
What was wrong with her? Here he was, a perfectly presentable man desperate to have sex with her, and she was finding it very hard to let go, to get into it. Dani’s right, she thought miserably. I am a control freak, and I even want to control this, and the fact that I can’t is making me nervous.
She just hoped Bill handled his bread dough a little more carefully than he handled a girl’s tits, that was all. She also hoped that he didn’t demand she admire his baguettes on Monday, because she’d crack up.
But then she remembered the other thing she had to do tonight, and realised that would not be a problem. Relax, she told herself. It feels good, doesn’t it?
And it did. It felt a little treacherous too, which didn’t please her or make her particularly proud of herself, but pleasure was pleasure and business was business.
And now Bill had pushed a hand up under her skirt, and with a gasp of surprise she felt him nudge her legs apart. She wasn’t wearing tights: it was too hot for that. Her eyes stared into his as he gripped the fabric of the body at her crotch, and pulled. She felt the fasteners pop apart one by one.
Grinning triumphantly, Bill pushed her legs open further with a rough movement of his hand, moistening his fingers against her with a fumbling movement. But she didn’t dislike his ham-fistedness now. Sticky with heat and desire, Venny found herself panting lightly as Bill quickly freed the fastenings on her skirt. He managed it pretty easily, too; well, this was a man who could shell eggs with one hand. Surely a skirt couldn’t be beyond him.
Bill eagerly pushed both skirt and body down to the floor in one swift movement and suddenly Venny was standing there stark naked except for her shoes.
Maybe it was her surroundings that were putting her off, Venny thought as he looked her over like a dog with a new bone to chew on. A nice soft bed wouldn’t come amiss right now. But this was what she should do more of. Acting on impulse. Taking risks. It was probably good for her karma or some damned thing.
Now she just wished he’d get on with it, but Bill was staring at her crotch in fascination. He put out a big trembling hand and brushed it up over her little pelt of toffee-coloured pubic hair. Venny flinched and felt the sweet, hot surge of lust taking hold of her again. Her clit swelled within its silky wet folds, seeking caresses. Her stomach fluttered madly. Her nipples were outrageously hard.
‘Do you shave this?’ Bill asked hoarsely, having to lick his lips first so that he could speak.
Venny shook her head. ‘It’s called a Mohican,’ she said faintly. ‘The beautician waxes it so that it leaves
just a strip of hair about an inch wide,’ she explained helpfully. It had been agony to have done, and she wasn’t going to bother having it done a second time. Pube-waxing could go in the same bin as extensions and body piercing, as far as she was concerned.
Her unexpected hairdo turned him on. Venny could see that. His breathing grew harsh just looking at it, and his cock twitched hungrily. Bill’s hand reached out and stroked down over her stomach, teasing the skin there into wild tremors of excitement.