After Hours: Black Lace Classics Read Online Free PDF

problems started drifting into her consciousness, and then Bill put in an appearance with his wounded puppydog eyes and his big red cock. Before she knew it, her nipples were puckered above the waterline and she was rubbing them with her fingers and feeling hopelessly horny.
    She stretched her legs out restlessly beneath the water and her breasts bounced as she moved. Critically she gazed down at them. She had lit candles around the tub before undressing, lavender-scented ones to soothe stress – and oh, boy, did she need that – and the soft warm glow from them highlighted her tits beautifully.
    She put her hands under them and lifted them higher, and thought suddenly of Bill’s dark head hovering there, of his hot mouth sucking at her. Restlessly her palms moved over her nipples, scuffing them into heightenedsensitivity, and then her fingers tweaked them, pulling them out and onto Bill’s imaginary tongue.
    Nice.
    The noises from the kitchen were growing frantic. Venny slid her butt down further in the bath and opened her legs. Keeping one hand busy at her tits, she slid the other down between her legs and felt the hungry twitch of sensation there as she touched herself.
    She thought of Bill’s body as she rubbed steadily at her clit, making the ultra-sensitive tissues there scream for even more. Dark hair and solid shoulders and cheeky blue eyes.
    Wait. Blue eyes?
    Bill was changing into someone else. The body-frame was lighter, taller. The eyes – yes, they were blue all right. And the hair was dark, but it was gelled up into spikes. Her ripe and ready pussy was suddenly crammed with a feeling of emptiness, and she pushed two fingers inside the entrance. Wet from the bath and from her own silky juices, she jammed her fingers frantically deeper as the face came into focus.
    Oh, this wasn’t Bill.
    This was trouble. This was someone she’d seen, someone she vaguely knew, someone who had now elbowed Bill to one side, who had usurped her usual gang-bang line-up of fail-safe film stars, all of whom were guaranteed to make her come hot and hard.
    Her questing fingers moved faster, faster. She blanked out the face, made the man back into Bill. But before long, he was back, and she was too creamy, toodesperate and too filled with longing to push him back out again.
    He was in her. It wasn’t her fingers driving her to a frenzy, it was his cock. She jammed in another finger. He was big. Not, perhaps, as thick as Bill, but certainly big, plenty big enough for her. His teasing smile and impudent eyes were more serious now, because he was intent on her, hovering over her on his elbows, bending now and then to kiss her throat, her breasts, her lips, her shoulders.
    Oh, this was good. The bedroom they inhabited in her mind was lit with bronze, slanting afternoon sun, and a soft breeze swept coolingly over their fever-hot bodies from an open window. As the man pushed at her, so Venny’s fingers pushed too, until her fingers and his cock were one and the same, a single pleasure-giving unit.
    Venny’s legs flopped wide open. Her eyes closed, and her breath came in shallow pants. She was no longer aware of the sounds from the next room; there was only this, this man whose hips seemed to be boring her into the mattress, hammering her into it like a nail into a wall.
    Every time he thrust up into her, her buttocks lifted to meet the thrust, arching her up against him. He murmured filthy words of encouragement in her ear, saying what a greedy little whore she was, how she loved taking his cock inside her, didn’t she? And oh, yes, she did. She had to agree, because if she didn’t he would just keep on fucking her like this forever, however exhaustedshe became. He would just go on and on humping her.
    The thought of that was too much. Venny’s orgasm crashed over her, smashed her back onto the bath – not the bed. Her fingers were crushed by spasms so intense that she let out a brief scream of delight.
    Dry-mouthed, and with her