The Training of Fallen Angels Read Free

blue shirt and dark shorts, the latter revealing muscular, tanned legs. The shorts seemed unnecessarily tight, and there was a promising bulge at the crotch.
    ‘D’you want a coffee?’ she asked, quietly.
    ‘That’d be great, yeah,’ he replied as he settled back on the seat and crossed his legs.
    ‘I’ll just go and dry my hair, then I’ll make you one.’ She moved into the bedroom and closed the door. What am I doing? she thought to herself. The postman? Has it come to this? She sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and took up the hairdryer and a brush. The rush of hot air played through her long, golden tresses as she stared into the dressing-table mirror. ‘He may only be a postman,’ her reflection seemed to be saying, ‘but he
is
pretty gorgeous!’
    Lisa quickly finished drying her hair and let the towel slip to the floor. She looked round the room for something suitable to wear. Janet’s little dressing-gown would still be lying on the floor in the bathroom where she’d left it. She opened the wardrobe and grabbed the first thing that came to hand. It was a long, white shirt that had actually belonged to Phil. She pulled it on and quickly fastened the buttons, leaving only the top one undone, then stood before the mirror.
    The shirt came down to a couple of inches above her knees. It was too large for her, of course, except across the chest, and her mountainous globes and erect nipples were clearly defined through the thin cotton. She undid two more buttons to ease the tightness of the material. Her breasts pushed the shirt apart to reveal a deep, tanned cleavage. She smiled proudly to herself and opened the door to the sitting room.
    She gasped suddenly. Her visitor was sitting as before on the sofa, but now he was carefully studying the precious photographs in her album. She moved over to him quickly before he could close the book. To her relief she saw that he was looking at some of her older snaps, the ones that had been taken before her metamorphosis. He looked up at her and smiled, glancing appreciatively at her mode of dress.
    ‘Who’s this?’ he asked, as he pointed to a photograph of her as she had once been.
    ‘Just a friend,’ she lied. She took the album from him and pushed it under some magazines that lay on one of the other chairs. In doing so, she bent forward with the expressed intention of giving him a fleeting glimpse of her naked bottom. She turned quickly. He was certainly looking in the right direction. He looked up and smiled innocently.
    ‘Coffee?’ he reminded her.
    ‘Oh, yes. How d’you like it?’
    ‘Black, please, no sugar.’
    Lisa hurried into the kitchen and switched the kettle on. She glanced back nervously into the sitting room a couple of times as she prepared the coffee. The album remained under the magazines. She wondered for a moment if she would have minded that much if he had looked at the more explicit photographs of her and Janet. But no; the sight of Phil’s impressive equipment might have put him off completely.
    She carried the two, steaming mugs back into the sitting room and set them on the table before sitting opposite her visitor. She leant forward and picked up her drink, taking her time to ensure that he was able to have a good look down her cleavage. Then she leant back and pushed out her chest blatantly. He licked his lips nervously and reached for his mug. His hand was shaking. Some of the hot liquid spilled over the side and over his fingers. He set the mug down again quickly.
    ‘Careful, you’ll burn yourself!’ Lisa put her own drink down and moved to kneel at his side on the floor. She took his hand in hers and put his fingers to her lips. She looked up at his handsome face as she delicately licked the coffee from his skin. His expression had suddenly become serious and questioning.
    ‘Oh, sorry,’ she said as she dropped his hand self-consciously.
    ‘It’s all right. It was nice.’
    ‘I’m sure it was,’ she said, standing