After Hours: Black Lace Classics (23 page)

‘Perhaps I should shower first?’ asked Venny worriedly. She was sure no man would appreciate smelling another man’s come on the woman he was about to seduce. Or was he going to seduce her? She looked at the bottle. It was extra virgin olive oil, from Dani’s comprehensive store cupboard. Dani dashed it over stuffed roasted purple peppers when they were hot from the oven, or used fresh crusty bread to mop it up
from a saucer. Venny almost laughed aloud. Perhaps he was irritated by her antics with Anton, after all. Perhaps he was going to baste her arse like a joint of meat, and attempt to stick it in the oven to cook.

‘Come on, roll over on your belly,’ said Micky, taking up the bottle and unscrewing the cap. Venny obediently bounced herself over onto her front, aware that her breasts swung outrageously as she did so, aware too that the erection which was so well hidden by the generous cut of his trousers was still there, faintly outlined. She heard the harsh intake of his breath as he looked at her tits, and again as her high-coloured buttocks were presented to him.

He wants me, she thought. He wants me desperately. And secretly she pressed her sex a little harder into the softness of the mattress, relishing the sensation of pressure it brought her. She felt the slight chill of the oil flow onto the dip at the base of her spine. A little gasp escaped her. The oil flowed between her bumcrack and down either side of her waist, wetting the sheet beneath her just a little. Then Micky’s hands skimmed over her skin, following the path the oil had taken. Into her slit, then back out and up to her waist, then down one side of it, and back and over to the other side of it; then again his hands slipped into her slit, and back again to her waist. Venny gasped and writhed as his hands delved between her legs, then bit her lip with frustration as they left her and caressed her waist instead.

Then, when she was just about to protest at this
torture, Micky poured more oil from the bottle. It rolled glutinously over her hips and again into her already very moist slit, and then his hands very gently began to massage the olive oil into her bruised buttocks.

A lush scent rose from the oil as it was warmed by the friction of his hands; it was the scent of olive groves on baked Mediterranean hillsides, of the crushed fruit as the presses went to work on the precious little juice-packed orbs.

Micky’s hands moved over her tender buttocks with a smooth but not overly gentle action. He knew, of course, that this caused her a slight degree of pain, but Micky knew all too well that a little pain is an aphrodisiac when combined with a great deal of pleasure.

‘Good?’ he murmured, dropping a kiss on the lower slope of her back.

‘Mm,’ said Venny dreamily, feeling that her whole lower body was suffused with heat and hunger. In the mirror she saw him take up the towel and wipe his hands briefly; then he unbuttoned the neck of his shirt, tugged it out of the waistband of his trousers, and in one swift, graceful movement pulled it up and over his head. He tossed it aside. His torso was tanned from the English summer sun, from Sundays in the park and naps on Caspar and Flora’s balcony. Venny stared at him in frank admiration. He was so lean, so toned. The curtains were still pulled over in the bedroom and the sun’s vivid light was softened and diffused by their dark red fabric.

Caspar and Flora, thought Venny.

‘Are they expecting you next door?’ she asked him, as he tipped more oil into his hand.

‘No. I was just dropping in,’ said Micky. He grinned to himself. ‘They were probably in bed anyway. That’s where they seem to spend most of their time, these days. Dani’s worked wonders with their lovelife, I can tell you.’

‘Good old Dani,’ said Venny lazily.

‘Caspar thinks she should take up couple counselling. Sex therapy.’

‘She’d be good at that,’ admitted Venny, thinking of Dani stark naked but for a few body piercings and a cowgirl hat, counselling nude couples while refereeing their lovemaking and joining in with her usual enthusiasm. ‘She’d enjoy it, too. Oh, that’s so good.’

Micky’s hands strayed from her buttocks into her wet cleft again, anointing her with the oil until she really couldn’t tell where her own wetness ended and the oil began. His fingers slid lower, bypassing the achingly open mouth of her pussy to dip between the swollen lips and brush tantalisingly over her overexcited little clitoris. It twitched and strained hungrily with every sweeping pass he made. Venny groaned.

‘Oh,’ she gasped, and then her legs stiffened, her toes digging into the mattress, her fingers clenching and bunching up the soft Egyptian cotton as orgasm gripped her. ‘Oh!’ she cried out, as Micky’s fingers rubbed even harder and the delicious throbbings became almost completely overwhelming. She shuddered and clung to the bed as the last luscious quiver died away.

‘Good?’ asked Micky.

‘Oh,’ gasped Venny, and heard him chuckle.

‘Turn over now,’ ordered Micky. Feeling almost boneless with satiation, Venny rolled over and lay there like a landed fish, gazing up at Micky as he applied the towel to his hands once again. When they were free of oil, he unfastened the waistband of his trousers and unzipped himself. His erect penis sprang out of the opening like a cosh, and Venny stared at it, feeling, incredibly, that she was ready for more from him, as much as he wanted to give.

Micky was kicking off socks and shoes and squirming out of his trousers as he knelt up on the bed between her wide-open thighs. When he was finally stripped, he took up the bottle of oil again. Holding the base of the shaft of his big cock with one hand so that the skin was pulled right back, he dribbled a little of the oil onto its pink and quivering head.

Venny watched as Micky caught his breath. She could imagine how that must feel, the cool of the oil on the hot tip of his penis. With admirable control Micky placed the bottle on the table once more, and then softly ran a fingertip across the opening slit in his glans, rubbing the olive oil into it; then he swirled the oil all around the tip with hypnotically slow movements. His breathing was quickening, Venny noticed, as he caressed himself. Then he took the shaft of his penis between the thumb and forefinger of one hand while holding the skin back at the base with the other. With a hard upthrust of his hips, he smoothed the oil all the way down the shaft,
then released the base and rubbed upwards, taking the foreskin up and over his ultrasensitive glans as his hand slipped over the tip. Then he pulled down, tugging the skin furiously back against the crinkling black hair and the bulbous hardness of his balls.

‘Is that good?’ murmured Venny, enjoying the show enormously.

‘Lovely,’ sighed Micky, as he continued to masturbate between her open legs. He was panting now, very near to losing control. The movements of his hand were becoming a blur of speed. Venny felt her own sex heat and twitch with the excitement of watching him pleasure himself.

Finally he could take no more; but to Venny’s surprise, instead of bringing himself off in a jolting fountain of come, Micky moved quickly closer between her thighs, pulling her legs up and over his shoulders. She gasped a little in surprise, but couldn’t pretend that she wasn’t ready. Her nipples were almost as red as Dani’s in the scarlet-toned light of the bedroom, and Micky could see how swollen and hard they were. When Micky started to penetrate her, she let out a little groan of pleasure. With her hips lifted high as they were and her legs up around his neck, she knew that he would be able to get into her very deeply – particularly as she was so very wet, and he was slathered in oil.

Hungrily Micky thrust his hips hard against the undercurves of her buttocks, pushing his cock deep into her. The feeling of exposure, of an almost unbearable depth of penetration, drew a startled cry from Venny,
but the sensation was intensely pleasurable, not painful. She breathed again as he drew back a little, but within an instant he was pushing inside her up to his limit again.

Micky paused a moment while his cock was lodged deep inside her. When she was in this position, thought Venny, Micky’s full penis felt every bit as big as Robert Fielding’s big purple baton. But she wouldn’t have liked to risk such deep penetration with Robert, who was a stranger and who might thrust too hard; with Micky, she felt that he would always consider her comfort and satisfaction, even at the expense of his own.

Oh, the feeling of him so deep inside her was just too delicious! As he pushed his lust-driven stalk into her again, Venny groaned with the extent of her pleasure. She tried to wriggle against him, to satisfy the building tumult of desire that was starting to flood over her; and Micky read the signs. Keeping one hand on her thigh to steady her while he was pushing in and out of her, he applied his other hand to her damp thatch of pubic hair. From there, he pushed three fingers down into her wet cleft. The tips of his fingers touched his slick cock as it pistoned in and out of her, and the fleshy pad at the base of his fingers pressed hard against her clit’s little hood.

Venny lay back and just let the whole thing happen. She wished it could go on forever, this madly building climb towards an explosive ending; their mutual climax. And this time her control proved better than his. Micky came in an orgy of thrusting and grunting, pushing
his cock so far into her that she felt she was going to explode. A cry that was almost a sob escaped her, the feeling was so sweet, so very intense. His pumping cock delivered its tribute of seed and he was beginning to slow down in his movements when the plateau she had been gliding along towards the goal of her second orgasm suddenly sheered away and she fell in a shower of sparkling sensations, crying out, clutching at his hips, taking him into her so crazily that she felt they might be welded together forever.

Finally Micky slipped his juice-covered and reddened cock out of her. He fell to one side of her on the bed, like a bee that had stung and then expired. He was panting in the enclosed heat of the bedroom, trying to draw breath. So was she. Her whole skin felt slick with sweat; a miasma of sexual steam hung over the bed, scenting the air with their exertions.

‘Venny Halliday,’ said Micky when he managed to breathe again, ‘you are the best fuck in the whole of London, do you know that?’ His head turned on the pillows and his eyes met hers. Their blue looked darker, almost black, in the low light.

‘You too,’ said Venny. Her legs felt like jelly. The muscles all along her inner thighs were shaking from the force with which he’d spread her legs. She rolled over so that her naked tits rested upon his sweat-slippery chest. Playing lazily, Venny guided one of her full teats with her hand, until their nipples kissed. She brushed her nipple, broad and swollen, against his smaller, chocolate-brown medallions of flesh, and bit
her lip a little as sensitivity made her tit shiver, made her nipple tighten into a bud of lust.

‘No!’ laughed Micky, displacing her hand on her tit with one of his own. He weighed her fleshy globe with every appearance of enjoyment. ‘No more, you crazy woman. I’m finished, I’m done. Turn over.’

She was pretty well finished herself, so Venny was happy to oblige. She turned her back to him, and still keeping his hand on her breast Micky cuddled in against her back, his whole long hard body curving in around hers, so they lay like spoons in a drawer. She sighed and felt strangely happy and content. His penis was at half-mast now, dribbling against her buttock, and Micky tucked it down between her legs.

‘Comfy?’ he asked, his teeth grazing the nape of her neck. His head was lying on her hair, keeping her trapped there – pleasantly trapped, she thought. Nothing she would object to.

‘Yes,’ she said, wriggling down against his flagging cock.

Micky chuckled. ‘Go to sleep,’ he murmured and, to Venny’s surprise, she did.

Venny was awoken by something hard pressing against the base of her spine. Something hard, and silky, and hot. She stretched, coming out of a very pleasurable doze, and wiggled her bottom down onto the offending object. She heard a groan behind her, and a hand skimmed over her breast, the palm lightly brushing against the point of her tit until it became more pointed
still. She opened her eyes, and remembered where she was, and with whom.

‘Oh …’ She yawned. ‘What’s the time?’ The light filtering through the closed curtains looked dimmer, she thought.

She felt Micky move, straining around so that he could see the glowing numerals on her little alarm clock. ‘Ten to three,’ he said, and kissed her shoulder.

‘Ten to
three
?’ Venny sat up suddenly. ‘But we’ve been here since half-past ten,’ she complained. There were things to do. She’d abandoned her paperwork. Micky had to get back to his restaurant. Dani would be back at any minute. She was amazed that she had slept so long. She never usually slept during the day.

Guess I was just relaxed, she thought, sinking back onto the bed again. Micky was here; she was friends with him again; everything was fine.

‘Tell me everything’s fine,’ she groaned, putting an arm over her eyes.

‘Everything’s fine,’ said Micky obligingly. ‘Let’s take the rest of the day off.’

Venny took the arm away and looked up at him as he leaned over her, his upright penis nudging her hip now.

‘OK. But is everything really all right? Really?’ she persisted.

‘We’re all right again, aren’t we?’ said Micky reasonably.

Venny stared up at him. ‘I missed you,’ she said.

‘Missed you, too,’ said Micky with a grin. ‘Particularly your lovely wet little pussy. Self-abuse is overrated as a
pastime, you know.’

‘I’m glad you’ve got your own place.’ Venny thought and then added: ‘I’m not glad that you’re not working at my place. I mean that I’m pleased it’s worked out for you. It has, hasn’t it?’

Aware that until they had got this conversation out of the way, a fuck was going to be out of the question, Micky leaned back on an elbow and gazed into her eyes.

‘Sure it has. We’re doing up to forty covers a night, which isn’t bad for a new restaurant. And the patrons seem happy – at least, they keep coming back, and they tell their friends to come, which would suggest that, don’t you think?’