tipped towards the ceiling and her tits jiggling, Fifi gripping her thighs, working industriously with her tongue and lapping the moisture spilling from Zara’s pussy. The sight, the noises, the scents, they all swirled around me like an erotic mirage. “Yes.”
She smiled, tightening the strands of hair on her finger. “Perhaps you’d like a private showing.”
Really? Fuck, Christmas had come early. “Well, I wouldn’t like to put you out.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t be. Fifi and I are always happy to get together if the price is right.”
“The price?”
“Yeah, you’d have to pay. I can’t keep giving you freebies, Victor, and let’s face it, you can easily afford it.” She waved her hand at the room, the curled strand of hair falling over her shoulder.
“Well, yes, I suppose.” I took a slug of wine and wished I didn’t have such a straining hard-on. “Have you had enough?” I nodded at her bowl. She’d left a few mouthfuls.
“Yes, thanks. It was delicious, you’re a great cook.”
“It was pretty simple, really.”
“Don’t put yourself down, it was lovely, really tasty and just what I fancied.” She stood, reached for her wine and wandered over to the fire. Her dress had ridden up a little, revealing the bottom curve of her arse cheeks and showing that sexy black lace. “I like being here, Victor, with you.”
“Well, er, good and thanks.” A lovely warm feeling went through me as I walked, a little stiffly, to the kitchen. “I’ll just get rid of these.”
I didn’t bother to sort out the dishes. Keen to get back to Zara, I filled my wine glass and took the bottle to her.
She was staring into the flickering flames. The shadows danced over her pretty features, and her small feet were almost hidden by the deep pile of the taupe hearth rug.
“Here.” I topped up her drink then set mine and the bottle on the mantle, next to a clock and a paperweight my cousin, Ollie, had given me for my birthday last month.
“Thanks.” She took a sip then placed her glass next to mine.
As she moved her arm I caught her scent; amber spice, mulled wine, musk—the musk of woman. Turned-on, sexy woman.
She was close to me, really close, and without her wearing shoes I realised that I was quite a bit taller than her. I looked down into her eyes. Her pupils were wide, her lashes long and dark. She poked out her tongue and licked her lips, coating them in a soft sheen.
I reached out and slipped my fingers into the hair at one of her temples. The strands were fine and soft, threads of silk. I repeated the action on the other side of her head, felt the delicateness of her skull as I angled her face upwards, to mine.
She was crass and officious, sure, but she was also a woman. A woman who wanted to be here, with me. It was time to stop this game and show her what I was all about.
I touched my lips to hers, gently, marvelling at the fragile texture of her and the sweetness of our first kiss. She responded enough for me to know she wanted me, but it was as though, like me, she was enjoying the first meeting of our mouths.
I held her a little firmer, slanted my head and searched for her tongue with mine. Absorbed her wonderful flavour, creamy and wine-laced, no doubt the same as mine.
She slipped her hands up my chest, over my shoulders and linked them at my nape. I shivered, desire prodding me like tiny forks, and squeezed our bodies together. My erection strained against my jeans, and the added pressure of her stomach made my balls tug with an urgency for us to get naked.
Which was the only thing that was going to happen next.
I broke the kiss. Stooped and swung her into my arms, hoisting her high and surprising myself at how little she weighed.
She gasped and then smiled. “Victor?”
“I’m going to make love to you.” I’d said it in a way that left no room for argument. She’d teased me, tempted me, made it pretty damn clear she wanted to have sex with me, and now the time had
She smiled, tightening the strands of hair on her finger. “Perhaps you’d like a private showing.”
Really? Fuck, Christmas had come early. “Well, I wouldn’t like to put you out.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t be. Fifi and I are always happy to get together if the price is right.”
“The price?”
“Yeah, you’d have to pay. I can’t keep giving you freebies, Victor, and let’s face it, you can easily afford it.” She waved her hand at the room, the curled strand of hair falling over her shoulder.
“Well, yes, I suppose.” I took a slug of wine and wished I didn’t have such a straining hard-on. “Have you had enough?” I nodded at her bowl. She’d left a few mouthfuls.
“Yes, thanks. It was delicious, you’re a great cook.”
“It was pretty simple, really.”
“Don’t put yourself down, it was lovely, really tasty and just what I fancied.” She stood, reached for her wine and wandered over to the fire. Her dress had ridden up a little, revealing the bottom curve of her arse cheeks and showing that sexy black lace. “I like being here, Victor, with you.”
“Well, er, good and thanks.” A lovely warm feeling went through me as I walked, a little stiffly, to the kitchen. “I’ll just get rid of these.”
I didn’t bother to sort out the dishes. Keen to get back to Zara, I filled my wine glass and took the bottle to her.
She was staring into the flickering flames. The shadows danced over her pretty features, and her small feet were almost hidden by the deep pile of the taupe hearth rug.
“Here.” I topped up her drink then set mine and the bottle on the mantle, next to a clock and a paperweight my cousin, Ollie, had given me for my birthday last month.
“Thanks.” She took a sip then placed her glass next to mine.
As she moved her arm I caught her scent; amber spice, mulled wine, musk—the musk of woman. Turned-on, sexy woman.
She was close to me, really close, and without her wearing shoes I realised that I was quite a bit taller than her. I looked down into her eyes. Her pupils were wide, her lashes long and dark. She poked out her tongue and licked her lips, coating them in a soft sheen.
I reached out and slipped my fingers into the hair at one of her temples. The strands were fine and soft, threads of silk. I repeated the action on the other side of her head, felt the delicateness of her skull as I angled her face upwards, to mine.
She was crass and officious, sure, but she was also a woman. A woman who wanted to be here, with me. It was time to stop this game and show her what I was all about.
I touched my lips to hers, gently, marvelling at the fragile texture of her and the sweetness of our first kiss. She responded enough for me to know she wanted me, but it was as though, like me, she was enjoying the first meeting of our mouths.
I held her a little firmer, slanted my head and searched for her tongue with mine. Absorbed her wonderful flavour, creamy and wine-laced, no doubt the same as mine.
She slipped her hands up my chest, over my shoulders and linked them at my nape. I shivered, desire prodding me like tiny forks, and squeezed our bodies together. My erection strained against my jeans, and the added pressure of her stomach made my balls tug with an urgency for us to get naked.
Which was the only thing that was going to happen next.
I broke the kiss. Stooped and swung her into my arms, hoisting her high and surprising myself at how little she weighed.
She gasped and then smiled. “Victor?”
“I’m going to make love to you.” I’d said it in a way that left no room for argument. She’d teased me, tempted me, made it pretty damn clear she wanted to have sex with me, and now the time had
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