Lust on the Loose (10 page)

Frozen with
embarrassment, Billy thought he detected a snort of derision before
she finally said, 'So that's what all the fuss is about. I hope
Candy Kensington is easily impressed.'

Billy
retreated hastily to the bath. 'What do you expect? I've been
giving my all to Tracy Pert as instructed. I'm not some performing
flea.'

'Huh.' Katie was not appeased. She had now collected all of
Billy's clothes and was evidently about to depart. She could not
resist a parting shot, however. 'The insect analogy is revealing,'
she said, 'though
worm
is the variety I would have chosen.'

After she'd
gone Billy luxuriated in the foam and raged inside over the insults
he had suffered. Katie Crisp was undoubtedly a haughty cow with a
very funny way of getting her kicks. And the nastier she got the
sexier she looked. The way she bristled with contempt seemed to
make her flesh writhe against the stern confines of her severe
suit. He couldn't forget that pristine patch of white thigh and the
shapely suspendered leg that she had flashed at him the other
night. Or the way the rounded moons of her buttocks had wiggled
inside her tight skirt as she marched briskly ahead of him down the
corridor a few moments ago. How he'd love to hold her across his
knees and paddle the pearly white cheeks of her bum until they
turned a flaming puce! That would teach her to sneer at his
cock.

It was true,
however, that the actuality of sex, as opposed to the distant
prospect, was currently beyond him. He badly needed some sleep and
didn't relish the prospect of meeting this Kensington woman. She
sounded snobbish and cranky and temperamental - some of the
character traits he favoured least. The assumption by Almond and
Crisp that he was some kind of superstud was frankly ludicrous and
he couldn't believe that any rich society hostess would welcome
advances from the likes of him.

There was a
knock at the door and a man's voice called out, 'Breakfast.' The
door swung open and a tray bearing a coffee pot and other enticing
accoutrements swung into view carried by a man in a white coat who
was so tall that his head appeared to scrape the door lintel as he
entered.

'Sorry to
barge in, old boy,' he said, 'but I was told your need was
urgent.'

The stranger
smiled, an expression that transformed his cadaverous features. He
placed the tray on top of the sink where it sat neatly to form an
ad hoc table. 'Milk? Sugar?' he enquired as he began to serve.

As a grateful
Billy watched him pour a life-saving cup of coffee he realised that
the white coat was an apron tied at the front in the style of a
professional waiter. 'Are you the in-house tea boy?'

'Chef,
actually. From The Holy Mullet next door. Mind if I join you?' he
added, indicating a second cup on the tray. 'It'll save me coming
back for this lot later on.' And he sat companionably on the loo
seat and sipped his coffee.

Billy had been
thinking. 'You're famous, aren't you? The Holy Mullet - that gets
written up in all the fancy magazines. You're um—'

'Arnold Brie.
Yes, I have recently been flavour of the month in certain quarters.
Have a cookie, I've just baked them.'

'Blimey,' said
Billy as he eagerly sank his teeth into the softest and most
delicious biscuit he had ever tasted, 'I'm deeply honoured.'

'Oh no,' said
Arnold, 'the pleasure's all mine. Actually, I wanted to talk to you
and this seemed a good opportunity.'

'To me?
Why?'

'Well, I'm
told you're an expert on women.'

'What?'

'And I need
help. I can't go to doctors or therapists or anyone like that
because it's not that kind of a problem. I thought maybe I could
consult you professionally.'

'I'm a
detective!'

'But you
specialise in sex cases, don't you? That's what Katie told me. And
I have a case for you.'

'Oh. Christ,
Arnold, you bake a bloody good biscuit. This breakfast is making me
feel a hundred per cent better.'

'So you'll
help me? I'll pay twice the going rate.'

'Well, put
like that, maybe you should come to my office for a consultation.
I'd give you a card but...'

At that moment
the door burst open and in marched Katie Crisp, a miraculously
clean set of clothes over her arm. Arnold leaped hastily to his
feet to pack away his tray of goodies. And as he exited he grinned
at Billy and said, 'Don't worry, I'll find you.'

A big
barrel-shaped man, dressed only in a pair of swimming shorts and
espadrilles, sat under an umbrella by the side of an Olympic-sized
swimming pool, reading a newspaper. From the villa behind him
emerged a statuesque blonde, clad as extensively as he, bearing a
tray of refreshments. She set it down on the table beside her
companion and placed in front of him a tumbler filled to the brim
and beaded with moisture. It was a scorching hot day.

The man did
not look up but carried on reading intently. The woman extended her
gorgeous frame along the length of a sun-lounger, arranged a pair
of dark glasses on her head and leant back to lift her face to the
blazing sun. Sun lotion glistened on the full mounds of her already
bronzed and naked breasts. For a few moments there was complete
silence save for the clink of ice in the woman's tall gin and tonic
as she lifted it to her lips.

Suddenly the
man leaned back and threw the newspaper from him in obvious
ill-temper. Its pages flew apart, settling like fallen leaves
across the woman's all but nude body.

'Oy!' she
objected loudly. 'What'd you do that for?' She pronounced 'you' as
'yow'. She came from Birmingham.

'Read it,' he
ordered, 'read the fucking thing for yourself.' And he drained his
beer in one long gulp.

'No thanks,'
replied the girl, pushing the paper away and rearranging herself
comfortably, 'you know I'm a victim of an impoverished education. I
can't read.'

'You can read
cheques well enough. And designer labels, when it suits you.'

'That reminds
me, you owe me some money. I popped into Malaga yesterday. I bought
a new dress to replace the one you ripped off me on Saturday night.
Actually, I bought a few. I know what you're like.'

'Fucking
country!' he muttered. 'Fucking sun! Rotten beer. Fucking funny
food.'

'What's got
into you?'

'Fucking
brainless tarts who ought to keep their mouths shut.'

'That's a bit
rich, Danny Fretwork. You shouldn't say that to a girl who's given
you the best of her mouth already this morning. It's not my idea of
fun to hand out blow-jobs before breakfast.'

'As it
happens, Beverly, I was not referring to you, though I could have
been. I was talking about Patsy.'

'Patsy? What
Patsy?' she asked, suddenly alert.

'My wife, you
silly cow.'

'Oh. I thought
you were divorced.'

'Not yet and
I'm likely to be a widower before I'm a divorcee.'

'Oh dear, oh
dear. What's she done?'

'I keep
telling you, read the paper.'

She groaned in a resigned fashion but languidly picked up a
fallen page which by happy chance contained the first instalment of
Patsy Fretwork's confessions to the
Blizzard
.

She tittered
as she read and then laughed out loud in a high-pitched irritating
shriek which set her expansive breasts quivering. Danny snarled at
her. He'd go over and smack those big tits for her if she didn't
shut up.

'This is a bit
of a laugh,' she said. 'Did you really ask her to measure your dick
with a ruler on your first date? She makes you sound like a right
prat.'

Danny reached
across and swiped the paper from her grasp with a great hairy paw.
'Shut up.'

'But you
wanted me to read it, Danny,' she said, aggrieved.

He took one of
her sumptuous breasts in his hand and squeezed it. Despite its size
it disappeared almost entirely in his big fist.

'Ow!' she
squealed. 'You don't have to take it out on me, Danny.'

'No, but I'm
going to all the same. Take your knickers off.'

'Ooh, you big
beast - what are you going to do?'

'You'll
see.'

'We could go
indoors. You know, have a siesta before lunch.' But she was already
stripping off for him, removing her bikini bottoms seductively and
dangling the scrap of fabric in front of his face. 'I'm not sure I
want to be fucked out here in the open. You'll have to catch me
first.' And she set off along the terrace, her breasts bobbing, her
arse cheeks jiggling. Danny eyed her as she ran off, looking over
her shoulder at him and giggling.

Inside he was burning up; he wanted revenge for his
humiliation in the
Blizzard
. He wanted a heart-to-heart
with his beloved Patsy. He could imagine the smirk on her face
already. Just for now, a little workout with Bimbo Bev might
relieve the pressure. He shucked off his swimming trunks, revealing
a thick stubby tool emerging from the forest of hair at the base of
his belly. He set off after her, moving swiftly despite his bulk, a
great hairy powerful gorilla of a man.

Beverly
allowed herself to be caught on the other side of the pool. Smack!
A great palm descended on her left buttock, flattening its creamy
curves, sending the breath out of her body. Smack, smack, smack.
The hand came down again and again, whacking the white flesh,
turning it scarlet.

'Ooh Danny,
ooh! No! No!' she screamed, pressing her cunt mound hard down on
his thigh in her excitement. 'Oh no, that's too much! Stop now,
please.' And she wriggled again, harder and harder.

Danny reached
for a bottle of suntan oil that stood on a nearby table and poured
a large pool of ointment over her flaming buttocks. He kneaded her
bottom fiercely, digging his massive fingers deep into the pink
moons of flesh and making her squirm. He spread the cheeks wide and
the perfect star of her bumhole winked up at him invitingly from
the crack of her arse. Thrusting two fingers deep into the wet slit
of her pussy, he took her in a pincer hold around the fork of her
body and pressed the head of his thumb up into that tempting
opening. Then, with his other hand, he aimed a large gob of lotion
splat into her rear.

'Oh no, Danny,
not up my bum, please.' And she wriggled frantically in a futile
attempt to escape his grip.

'Now now,
Beverly, you loved it last time.' And his thumb, its passage well
greased, slid into the vestibule of her arse, disappearing up to
the knuckle. She redoubled her efforts to shake him off but
succeeded only in burying the digit further inside her.

'Oh God,' she
groaned, a hint of resignation - and of excitement - in her
voice.

'You see,' he
said triumphantly, jamming his thumb up her back passage and
thrusting his fingers simultaneously into her pussy hole, 'you love
it, don't you. If I keep this up you're going to come, aren't
you?'

She didn't
reply but moaned wordlessly, her hips now bucking in time to his
thrusts, her arse and cunt eagerly eating up the fierce fingering.
Suddenly he stood up, lifting her with him and threw her face down
on a nearby sun-bed. She flopped down like a doll, her big breasts
splaying out from under her body, her legs spread to reveal her
pink wet quim, her bum cheeks still raw and flaming from the
spanking. Danny eyed her with a predatory gleam in his eye. He knew
she loved his animal brand of fucking.

'Kneel up,' he
commanded. 'Stick your arse out so I can see where I'm going to put
my dick.'

She obeyed at
once, pulling her knees under her and thrusting her bum out
obscenely. Without being asked, she reached round with both hands
and spread apart her cheeks, revealing every delectable millimetre
of her hairless crack, from the distended eye of her pretty pink
anus down to the splayed purse of her quim. Danny smoothed oil into
his rock-hard organ. He had her well-trained, there was no doubt
about that.

Then he was up
her. His thick prong charging straight up her bumhole with no
finesse, no civilities, just brute strength. A loud groan rang from
her prone body as she took his weight and her slender frame rippled
beneath him as he sawed in and out of her bottom, stuffing his fat
organ up her rear tunnel with the energy of a sprinter. But this
sprinter was determined to make the race last, he was out to
extract every nuance of pleasure from the delicious body bent
beneath him.

His stomach
slapped against her quivering bum flesh as he bulled into her. He
had both arms around her now, massaging and mauling a big soft tit
in each of his massive hands. Little mewing noises were coming from
her mouth as he prodded and pounded. He knew that she now had a
hand between her legs, playing with her pussy lips and stroking the
hard nub of flesh at the top of her slit as she sought her own
satisfaction before he finished. The thought that she was wanking
away beneath him while he fucked her arse sent an electric thrill
through his body and he prodded and delved and pinched and smacked
away at her wanton flesh on the verge of delirium.

And then he
came, his energy redoubling in unbelievable fury, as he pumped,
pumped, pumped and finally exploded deep inside her glorious
bum.

For a moment
he lay on top of her, a dead weight, panting his breath into her
ear like a dog. Then he was on his feet leaving Beverly in a
bruised and crumpled heap.

A slim
Spaniard in a white coat was standing by the patio door, a tray of
food in his hands. It was possible he had been there some time.
Danny strode past him, his fat dick now dangling damply between his
thighs, a big grin on his face.

'Placido,' he
said, 'bring me a sandwich upstairs. And then get the car out,
we're going to the airport.'