Anything For Him. Lily Harlem
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Название: Anything For Him

Автор: Lily Harlem

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Эротика, Секс

Серия:

isbn: 9780007491612

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ to pay the bills. What about you? Have you had any sexy thoughts about me?’ I reached for my wine.

      ‘I did, sort of. I was looking at a website about female ejaculation and wondering if you were a spurter when a weird thing happened. This woman appeared at my window, staring in at me, even though it was starting to rain.’

      Wine burned the back of my throat. I inhaled but no air went in. With my fist I thumped my chest and eventually dislodged the offending dribble of Merlot. I spluttered and coughed, wheezed and gasped. Finally, breath returned and I re-read his last words.

      A woman appeared at my window.

      There was no doubt about it. Not now. Today Liuz and I had met. Breathed the same air, walked the same path, connected our eyes in a glorious moment of two fates colliding. But it had all happened so fast and I hadn’t been the woman I wanted to be.

      I sat my bare ass on the chair and willed sane thoughts. I had to play it cool. There was no way in hell I was going to let him know that had been me studying him as the rain began to pour, balancing in a very unladylike way on his shrubbery and looking through his window like some crazy Peeping Tom.

      ‘That’s odd,’ I replied. ‘Did you know her?’

      ‘No, I had never seen her before. But she looked at me as though she recognised my face.’

      ‘That is strange. Then what happened?’

      ‘She ran off, towards the High Street.’

      ‘Didn’t you chase her? Find out what she wanted?’

      Thank goodness he hadn’t.

      ‘No, I was only half dressed, couldn’t be bothered.’

      ‘Why were you only half dressed? Been jerking off again?’

      Change the subject.

      ‘No, not today. I was just hot, must have been the humidity before the storm. I might jerk off later, though, thinking of you, thinking of fucking you, from behind, my hands in your hair, pulling your head up to the ceiling so that your spine feels like it will snap under the force of my thrusts.’

      ‘Sounds like a plan.’ My pussy clenched at the image of my back bowed by the severity of his tight grip on me. I loved it when he put images into words like that.

      ‘I can imagine how your pussy would feel on my cock, but what about your hair, how would that feel in my hands, Aniolku?’

      Ah, I knew what he was doing. I wasn’t a journalist for nothing. Probing questions were my business. ‘Why?’

      ‘I need to know so I can build up the picture in my head.’

      I pulled at my long blonde ponytail. A stab of regret tugged my heart. It would have to go. It was exactly the same as the woman who’d looked through his window this afternoon. ‘It’s black, and barely enough to sink your hands into. It’s short and spiky.’ As I spoke I reached for a pair of scissors from my pen pot. Letting my hair loose, I gulped the rest of my wine then began to cut.

      ‘I love black hair,’ he responded. ‘Short black hair I can grab and pull by the roots. I want to hold your head firm, your ass firmer as I fuck you.’

      Shivering with desire, I glanced at my feet. They were splattered with dark paint and each slice of the scissor blades delivered a new creamy tendril to the floor around them. As I watched, several thick strands landed over my toes. On the rise of my left foot, an exceptionally long piece fell and balanced.

      ‘Would you like me to fuck your pussy from behind?’ he asked.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘I think you would do it good.’

      ‘It’s more than that.’

      ‘It is?’

      ‘Yeah, I know you by now, Hannah. You’re a slut, a dirty bitch. You would like me fucking you from behind because then it’s impersonal. I could be anyone taking you hard and fast, using your body to get my release and satisfy my big, fat dick.’

      OK, that was it, the time had come. I’d had enough of skirting around the main event. I knew what Liuz looked like and I was more attracted to him than I could have ever dared hope. If we didn’t move this on soon I would combust. One-handedly I typed back. ‘Why don’t I come over tomorrow and be your slut?’

      ‘I never thought you’d ask, Aniolku. I’m getting so bored of my own hand.’

      He thought I would never ask!

      All the damn time I’d been waiting for him to pose the question and all I’d had to do was ask.

      So whereabouts do you live in Brixton?’ I dropped the scissors on the desk and ran my fingers through my short hair. It was about two inches all over, including the fringe.

      ’78 Woodstone Road, flat 2.’

      ‘What time?’

      ‘Nine.’

      ‘OK.’

      ‘One more thing.’

      ‘?’

      ‘I will leave something on the door handle. You will wear it the entire time you are with me.’

      ‘?’

      ‘Trust me, Aniolku, I know what you need more than anyone else you have ever been with.’

      I waited another minute to see if he elaborated on this detail. He didn’t, so I went back to painting. My mind whirred as my brush flew over the wall, adding in symmetrical abs and long, hairy shins.

      Finally.

      Finally we had a meeting set up. At his bedsit too. I could hardly believe it.

      I glanced at my watch. It was early evening. This time tomorrow I’d be getting ready to take the bus to Brixton once more. With a sudden flourish, I reached over and displayed Liuz’s jerking-off photo on my screen. Hit print, ten copies.

      Soon, within hours, I would hear him coming, feel him tremble as his cock spurted into me. There was no doubt in my mind we would fuck tomorrow. Too much had passed between us for it not to get carnal and dirty on our first meeting. Sexual tension sizzled through cyberspace with each email we’d sent, right from the word go. He’d coaxed out my secret thoughts about sex. I’d felt safe somehow, telling him sordid fantasies anonymously. His reactions were always positive, encouraging. When I worried I was kinky he’d replied: ‘Aniolku, it is only kinky the first time you do it.’

      So now, after all my soul-baring, Liuz knew I had a seedy desire to be taken roughly. Degrading, dirty sex was my thing. He knew full well that a dinner date and movie was not necessary for him to get a fuck. Just a series of perverse, crude emails and an address would get me wet and slippery and spreading my legs.

      I was a slut.

      I was a wet, СКАЧАТЬ