Afternoons of a Woman of Leisure (9781101623565) Read Online Free PDF Page A

shades, she thinks. All of the shades must be pulled. “Hello?” she calls again, taking a step inside.
    Suddenly, she is yanked and grabbed, a gloved hand clamped tightly over her mouth. Joanna struggles instinctively, twisting back against the body behind her, but it grips her hard and an unfamiliar voice calls her “Bitch” and tells her to stop, immediately, or he will beat the shit out of her.
    Joanna stops, breathing hard. Even through her terror, a part of her is smiling, glad that he knows, glad that he wants her this way. She is pressed against the wall, facing it. Hands tie a blindfold around her head. “Don’t move,” he tells her, starting to feel her, roughly but slowly, descending her sides as if he were searching for a weapon. The gloved hands pause at her heaving breasts, taking in the outline of the bra beneath her shirt, then move down Joanna’s stomach to the top of her skirt. A hand lifts it from beneath and carefully feels between her legs, testing the dampness that already fills Joanna’s underpants. She feels the skirt fall again.
    â€œYou’re coming with me,” the voice says. “Don’t try to scream, or I’ll hurt you. Understand?”
    Shaking, Joanna nods. “Please . . .” she starts to say but he seizes her mouth again.
    â€œDon’t bother,” he says. “I’m going to do what I want with you.” He holds her hands together behind her back and pushes her a few steps forward, then turns her. “Up,” he says. Joanna climbs. At the top of the staircase he pushes her sharply to the left. She feels a door open in front of her, then close behind. He turns her roughly around and presses her back, against a wall. A gloved hand glides over her neck and Joanna gasps.
    Suddenly her wrist is seized, lifted to shoulder height and swiftly fastened to the wall. Then the other wrist. She pulls against the fastenings and feels leather chafing her skin. His breath is on her face and she senses his closeness. Then a fumble at the small of her back, the sound of a zipper, slowly coming undone. Joanna’s skirt slips to her feet. “Let’s see what you look like,” he says quietly.
    â€œNo,” Joanna whimpers, and he laughs.
    â€œOh, but I think yes.”
    Fingers unfasten the buttons of her shirt and she feels it come apart, exposing her bra, her belly, the upper edge of her underpants. Slowly, he moves the fabric aside and up, folding it behind her shoulders. A hand glides over her breastbone and slides up to casually cup her cheek. “I’m going to fuck you so hard,” the voice confides, and Joanna moans.
    He grabs her head and kisses her deeply, filling her mouth, roughly sucking her tongue. “So hard,” he says again. Joanna pulls at her straps.
    A hand creeps between her legs, fingering the damp fabric. She twists from it but it follows, slowly gathering the cotton. “You’re wet,” the voice tells her, as if this is something she needs to be told. “By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll be dripping, won’t you?”
    â€œNo,” Joanna pleads, but his answer is the sound of tearing lace, his gloved hands ripping at the bra. She hears his sigh as it comes apart and he pushes it aside, over her shoulders. The hands take frantic possession of her breasts, rubbing and pressing them, then pinching the nipples between leather fingers.
    â€œI’m going to suck your tits,” he informs her, then does, slowly, between his teeth. Joanna writhes, wild on the edge of pain. “You love it, you little cunt,” he whispers, reaching behind her back to slide his hands firmly over her ass. She feels his cock, pressing through denim at her pubic bone where he thrusts, briefly, showing her his own stiffness and heat.
    Then he sinks to his knees and smells her loudly, rubbing his nose between her sticky thighs. A mouth bites at her underwear