Read Online After Hours: Black Lace Classics by Crystalle Valentino - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Crystalle Valentino
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her and Caspar. Well, that’s marriage for you. You know how you can tell if a marriage is heading for the rocks?’
‘Nope,’ said Venny, seeing Micky pass by arm-in-arm with a dinky little blonde vampette. They were dancing so close together that you’d need a machete to get them apart. She watched Micky’s hips rubbing againstthe blonde, and noted the rapt, dazzled expression on the blonde’s face. God, she was almost at the point of orgasm, thought Venny, turning away.
‘They move, they build an extension, or they have a baby. They’ve moved, right? You just watch. Next comes the extension, then the baby. Then it’s off to the divorce courts and change partners.’
‘You’re such a cynic,’ said Venny.
‘I’m never wrong.’
‘And you’d be waiting to comfort Caspar, I suppose?’
‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’ Dani crowed with delight. ‘He looks so wrung out, poor sweetheart. Do you think they still fuck? Do you think she climbs on board him every night, slips his cock up her and puts those stupendous great tits of hers to his mouth so he can suck her nipples? I bet she does. No wonder he looks shattered. She must take a lot of keeping up with.’
‘His brother’s here, too,’ said Venny, pondering interestedly over the vision of Flora and Caspar in a fucking frenzy.
‘Caspar told me he was. The tall gorgeous bloke with the spiky hairdo. Nice eyes, too. Micky.’
‘He’s a chef,’ said Venny.
‘Is he?’ Dani’s eyes widened. ‘Well, that’s just great. You’re looking for a chef.’
‘Yes, but not him,’ said Venny.
‘Why not him?’
‘Because he’s trouble.’
Dani tutted and leaned confidingly towards Venny. One of her nipples brushed tinglingly against one ofVenny’s, and Venny experienced an almost unbearable flash of heat. God, I’m drunk, she thought. Being drunk always got her incredibly randy.
‘Honey,’ said Dani with a smile, ‘you need that sort of trouble. Desperately. Take it from me, you do.’
‘What I need is to lie down,’ Venny informed her stiffly. She had to speak stiffly, because she was afraid that if she didn’t keep rigid control over her speech, she would start slurring her words. ‘Next door. Right now.’
‘What, already?’ Dani looked around at the heaving merry-making crowds. ‘The evening’s young, babe.’
‘I am going next door,’ said Venny carefully. ‘To bed.’
‘Well … OK,’ said Dani with a regretful shrug.
Venny started to weave her way – stepping carefully, because she was drunk, and when she was drunk her knees seemed to go in the most alarming fashion – across the room to the door. She cordially and carefully thanked Flora and Caspar, and nodded and smiled her way towards the exit. Basking in a rare sense of achievement, she opened the door. She’d made it, drunk though she was, without falling over or embarrassing herself in any other way. And then she realised that someone had followed her out into the cool, airy corridor. It was Micky Quinn.
‘Glad I caught you,’ said Micky, closing the door on the party noise. Still the Latin beat thrummed through the walls. Suddenly the corridor outside the flat seemed cold and empty to Venny. ‘Look, my cheque book’s in the car. Walk me down and we’ll settle up now, OK? Save me posting the cheque on to you.’
‘No, I—’ started Venny, but he had taken hold of her elbow and was guiding her towards the ratchety old steel-cage lift. Micky stepped inside, taking Venny with him. She propped herself against the wall of the lift and watched as he closed them into the steel cage and pressed the button for the ground floor. The lift lurched after a stuttering moment or two and started edging its way downwards. This was not high technology or high speed, this lift. In fact, all the residents had complained to the builders who had refurbished the warehouse block about the lift being so slow; but the builders had insisted that the character of the building called
‘Nope,’ said Venny, seeing Micky pass by arm-in-arm with a dinky little blonde vampette. They were dancing so close together that you’d need a machete to get them apart. She watched Micky’s hips rubbing againstthe blonde, and noted the rapt, dazzled expression on the blonde’s face. God, she was almost at the point of orgasm, thought Venny, turning away.
‘They move, they build an extension, or they have a baby. They’ve moved, right? You just watch. Next comes the extension, then the baby. Then it’s off to the divorce courts and change partners.’
‘You’re such a cynic,’ said Venny.
‘I’m never wrong.’
‘And you’d be waiting to comfort Caspar, I suppose?’
‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’ Dani crowed with delight. ‘He looks so wrung out, poor sweetheart. Do you think they still fuck? Do you think she climbs on board him every night, slips his cock up her and puts those stupendous great tits of hers to his mouth so he can suck her nipples? I bet she does. No wonder he looks shattered. She must take a lot of keeping up with.’
‘His brother’s here, too,’ said Venny, pondering interestedly over the vision of Flora and Caspar in a fucking frenzy.
‘Caspar told me he was. The tall gorgeous bloke with the spiky hairdo. Nice eyes, too. Micky.’
‘He’s a chef,’ said Venny.
‘Is he?’ Dani’s eyes widened. ‘Well, that’s just great. You’re looking for a chef.’
‘Yes, but not him,’ said Venny.
‘Why not him?’
‘Because he’s trouble.’
Dani tutted and leaned confidingly towards Venny. One of her nipples brushed tinglingly against one ofVenny’s, and Venny experienced an almost unbearable flash of heat. God, I’m drunk, she thought. Being drunk always got her incredibly randy.
‘Honey,’ said Dani with a smile, ‘you need that sort of trouble. Desperately. Take it from me, you do.’
‘What I need is to lie down,’ Venny informed her stiffly. She had to speak stiffly, because she was afraid that if she didn’t keep rigid control over her speech, she would start slurring her words. ‘Next door. Right now.’
‘What, already?’ Dani looked around at the heaving merry-making crowds. ‘The evening’s young, babe.’
‘I am going next door,’ said Venny carefully. ‘To bed.’
‘Well … OK,’ said Dani with a regretful shrug.
Venny started to weave her way – stepping carefully, because she was drunk, and when she was drunk her knees seemed to go in the most alarming fashion – across the room to the door. She cordially and carefully thanked Flora and Caspar, and nodded and smiled her way towards the exit. Basking in a rare sense of achievement, she opened the door. She’d made it, drunk though she was, without falling over or embarrassing herself in any other way. And then she realised that someone had followed her out into the cool, airy corridor. It was Micky Quinn.
‘Glad I caught you,’ said Micky, closing the door on the party noise. Still the Latin beat thrummed through the walls. Suddenly the corridor outside the flat seemed cold and empty to Venny. ‘Look, my cheque book’s in the car. Walk me down and we’ll settle up now, OK? Save me posting the cheque on to you.’
‘No, I—’ started Venny, but he had taken hold of her elbow and was guiding her towards the ratchety old steel-cage lift. Micky stepped inside, taking Venny with him. She propped herself against the wall of the lift and watched as he closed them into the steel cage and pressed the button for the ground floor. The lift lurched after a stuttering moment or two and started edging its way downwards. This was not high technology or high speed, this lift. In fact, all the residents had complained to the builders who had refurbished the warehouse block about the lift being so slow; but the builders had insisted that the character of the building called
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