Alphabetical Orders by Amelie Read Free Book Online

Michelle is married to a cop, I get to find out who’s doing things they’re not supposed to be.
    Take Mr Rogers at number 33. You’d never have taken him for a crook. It turns out he’s going to be on trial soon for fraud. Just imagine. And him just living down the road.
    I love all of the work she does at the tips of my fingers. She files and buffs and pushes back those cuticles so that when she’s ready to apply the varnish, my hands look like they belong to someone else. A princess, perhaps. Michelle reckons I should sign up with an agency and become a hand model. One of these days I might just take her up on the idea.
    I always pick my colour to go with whatever I’m going to be wearing out on Saturday. If I’m not sure, I take the dress along and get Michelle to pick for me.
    When I leave the beauticians, I feel like a goddess, I really do. I can’t wait to get to show them off and to use them on my man.
    There’s something about watching my nails rake over Simon’s chest that really turns me on. I love to plough through his chest hair and scratch at his skin. When I get carried away, I’ve been known to draw blood. It makes me feel all animal to claw at him like that. And that feels orgasmic.

O is for Oh My Gosh
    F or my hen night, the girls thought it would be funny if they put on something a little special. A bit of grown-up entertainment if you like.
    I didn’t know anything about it.
    They’d hired a disco bus to start off with. We drove through town and screamed at everyone we saw. It was fabulous. There was a bar and a stereo to die for and there was a sparkling ball in the middle of the ceiling that threw diamonds of light around the walls. We were having a great time singing and dancing in the back and I didn’t want it to stop.
    We did stop, though. Or rather we were stopped. By the police.
    The officer came in looking like thunder. There’d been complaints, he said, about raucous behaviour. On top of that, someone had reported that bottles were being thrown out of the window.
    He stood there in the middle of the bus and sniffed at the air. Everyone went quiet.
    “Is anyone here smoking cannabis?”
    It was ridiculous. “Of course not. Look at us. We’re respectable women.”
    It was true we were all respectable most of the time. When I looked around I realised that we looked as if cannabis might be the least of our vices.
    He came closer to me, wrinkling up his nose. “It seems to be coming from your direction. Could you please stand up and lean against the wall for me, darling?”
    “Don’t you bloody darling me...”
    “Just turn around please.”
    I gave him the hardest stare I could manage, but I did what he asked. I knew I wasn’t carrying anything illegal. The worst he could get me for was wearing a Learner badge under false pretentions. I turned, leant over to the wall and held on.
    The officer patted the inside of my legs. He worked his way up my back and then along my arms. He worked back towards my shoulders and then, completely out of the blue, he grabbed my tits and gave them a firm rub.
    “Jesus,” I shouted at him and turned around ready to slap him in the chops.
    I stopped my hand from swinging at him as soon as I saw the enormous grin on his face.
    All my hens screamed and cheered and then the sound of some bizarre cabaret music filled the coach.
    “What the...?”
    The policeman unbuttoned his jacket and ripped off his shirt with one hard pull.
    I finally got it.
    The guy swung his hips at me and gyrated in my direction. He took off his cap and revealed a shock of red hair. He rubbed himself up against me and I started to press back.
    As the music continued, he took off his clothes item by item. In the end, all that was left was a thong with a huge leather pouch at the front.
    He took some oil from a pocket from the jacket he’d thrown on the floor and poured it over his chest. I was to rub it in. I didn’t need to be asked. I reached over and admired the blue