Lust on the Loose (15 page)

'So you're
Sergeant Sophie,' she said. 'I can see why she took a shine to
you.'

'Where's
Pandora?' asked Sophie. 'She shouldn't have left you on your
own.'

'But you're
here now, aren't you? The force's finest fanny has arrived to
protect me from my own husband. How thrilling.'

Sophie looked
round at the clutter - empty bottles, dirty glasses, rancid
takeaway bags, overflowing ashtrays. It was a mess. Patsy looked a
mess, too: her hair was ragged and unwashed, her blouse crumpled
and, despite the bravado, she was obviously wound up.

'We'll have to
move you,' Sophie said, looking round. 'This place is too easy to
find. It's on the ground floor, the locks are no good, there's
access from the garden at the back. And it's a pig sty.'

'Well, don't
look at me, dearie. This is how the great journalist lives. The
worst of it is that the fridge doesn't even work. There's no ice
for the gin.'

Sophie pulled
a face. 'I'll have it warm then.' And she flopped down on the baggy
sofa amongst a pile of newspapers. A cat erupted from beneath her
and scurried off with a mew of complaint.

Patsy fetched
fresh glasses from the kitchen and poured two generous slugs of
Gordon's. 'Cheers,' she said and lit up a cigarette. 'I've had lots
of visits from the Old Bill in my day but this is the first time
I've ever offered one a drink.'

Sophie raised
her glass in salute and took a solid hit. Neat, lukewarm, it tasted
disgusting and burned as it rolled down her throat.

'So, where's
Pandora?'

'Dashed off
half an hour ago, done up to the nines. She's got a girlfriend, you
know.'

'Dozens, I
imagine.'

'No, this is a
special friend. She rang about an hour back and there was quite a
conversation. She took it in the bedroom but I heard every
word.'

Sophie took
another mouthful, waiting for Patsy to continue. The gin didn't
taste quite so bad now.

'It seems the
loved one spent a torrid night of passion with a man and rang up to
tell Pandora that, on balance, she preferred cocks to cunts. It was
meant to be "let's cut out the naughties and remain good friends" -
you know the kind of thing. However...'

'She talked
her round?'

'They're
having dinner. She said you were coming to babysit. I don't think
she's planning to return tonight. Not until she's licked Tracy into
shape, that is.' Patsy grinned knowingly over her glass and Sophie
smiled back. Both parties could imagine what such a licking might
entail.

'Maybe you're
not so bad, considering you're the law,' Patsy went on, pouring
them both another. 'You were a big hit at lunch. Pandy got back at
four with your short hairs between her teeth.'

Sophie
blushed. She didn't want to dwell too much on their lunch at
Emmeline's but she had to hand it to Pandy, that woman knew how to
suck pussy.

'It was you I
wanted to talk to,' she said, 'about Danny.'

'Bugger him,
he's in Spain with a big-titted tart from Brum.'

'Don't count
on it, Patsy. We thought he might come back to shut you up. Now I
can tell you he's on his way.'

'Really?'
Suddenly she didn't look so cocky.

'I heard this evening. Your friend from Birmingham rang in to
say Danny read the
Blizzard
this morning and went ape-shit. He flew out this
afternoon.'

'But didn't
you pick him up at the airport?'

'We missed
him. I don't know how. I only know we hadn't got him by eight this
evening. He could be here any minute.'

'Oh shit.'
Patsy lit another cigarette and knocked back her gin. She gave
Sophie a long, appraising look. 'You don't look like much in the
way of protection. Why haven't I got a couple of beefy guys? Three,
maybe one to take me to bed and the others to stand guard.' She
laughed boozily.

Sophie was
beginning to feel a little woozy herself. 'Don't worry, Patsy, I
might not look tough but I'm very... resourceful. If he shows up,
he's mine.'

'Oh yeah?' The grin was back on Patsy's impish face. 'I might
hate the bastard but he
is
my husband.'

'I don't mind
assistance. We could take him on together.'

'Right!' They
clinked glasses.

'Seriously,
Patsy, we've got to get you out of here. We'll go tomorrow. I'll
think of somewhere.'

'Make it a
lumberjack training camp. Or a boys' sixth form college. Or the
Chippendales' hotel suite. Somewhere there's men. Lots of guys with
muscle and sweat and big swinging dicks.'

'Patsy, you're
drunk.'

'And horny.
I'm cock-starved. Danny's pals keep me so penned in no man dares
come near me: I've had one fuck in six months and it was so
fantastic I'm permanently on heat. I even let Pandora suck me off
I'm so randy these days.'

'Tell me about
the guy.' Sophie didn't want to talk about Pandora.

'He's a
smart-arse, but cute. I had him tailing Danny and he took some
great pictures of him bonking bimbos at this orgy. They ran some of
them in the paper but most of them were unprintable. Billy's got a
real nerve. He hid up a tree to get the photos and got so carried
away he fell out, right in the middle of all these naked gangsters
and their tarts. But he managed to run off and I got my
pictures.'

'Who is he?'
Sophie was all ears.

'Billy Dazzle.
He's a private detective, though I don't know that he gets much
work.'

Billy Dazzle -
so that was the name of the clown who had upset her plans to
capture Danny last time. Sophie slotted the information home in her
brain. Patsy was gabbling on, warming to the memory of her recent
tryst.

'I'd always
fancied him but never did anything about it. I used to think I'd
stay faithful to Danny anyway even though he was bonking half
Romford. Silly cow. Then when I got the photos off Billy and we
were looking at all these rude goings-on, I knew I just had to have
him. There were some really naughty shots. All these great big
willies thundering up sopping fannies, people banging away in
groups - I wish I had them here to show you.'

Sophie was
glad she hadn't - or else there was a good chance Patsy would spot
her amongst the revellers, bending over to take her share of those
great big willies. Sophie had not been able to divorce herself from
the action, she recalled, after all it had been incumbent upon her
to play her part to the full.

Patsy, in
order to get more comfortable, had slipped out of her tight
mini-skirt and sprawled in a collapsing armchair opposite Sophie,
her plump brown thighs spread wide apart. Sophie's eyes were drawn
to the black bikini panties drawn taut over the bulge of her pubic
mound. In particular, she noted the smudge of damp now spreading in
the vee of Patsy's crotch as she continued her tale.

'We just stood
there looking at all these dirty photos spread out on his desk,
discussing which ones we liked best and what turned us on. It was
really exciting. He had his hand up my skirt, wandering all over my
arse and I had his whopper in my hand. God, it felt good. The first
I'd touched in months!'

Patsy had now
slid her hand inside her panties, perhaps unconsciously, and was
obviously fingering herself as she spoke.

'He pulled my
knickers down and put it up me from behind, with me sprawled over
the desk right on top of these photos. I think I came the moment he
put it in, it just felt so fabulous. And he just went on and on,
jabbing his dick in and out and kissing the back of my neck and
saying these fantastic filthy things in my ear.'

'Like
what?'

'Oh, all about
how he'd always fancied me and the way my jiggling tits just drove
him wild and what a great little arse I had and how he was going to
pull out at the last moment and shoot his load all over my bum and
rub the spunk into my cheeks.'

'Ooh, I like
the sound of that!' Sophie was getting quite turned on herself.
'And did he?'

'No. He got so
carried away talking about it that he couldn't hold back and he
started ramming in and out of me till he shot off inside my pussy.
I'm not complaining. I was so far gone I passed out for a moment.
The funny thing was, when I came to I was looking right at this
picture of Danny being sucked off. Once upon a time I'd have been
shattered just to see it but, in the circumstances, I had to laugh.
Pandora says that was a key moment in my liberation.'

'You told
Pandora about it?'

'She wants to
know everything about me, she says it helps her get the right feel
for my story.'

A
companionable silence fell. Sophie watched Patsy's fingers
fluttering inside her black panties. Her other hand was in the open
flap of her blouse rolling a stiff nipple between two scarlet
fingernails. Her eyes were closed and her breath was coming in
short hard pants.

'Patsy, does
Pandora have a vibrator?'

'In the
bathroom.'

'If I go and
get it, will you promise to tell me the rest of what you and Billy
got up to?'

But Patsy
couldn't answer. Her hips were thrusting rhythmically as her
fingers worked away beneath the damp cotton and the first moans of
orgasm were already spilling from her mouth.

Sophie sighed
in resignation and poured herself another drink. As the cries and
moans of Patsy's pleasure filled the room she began to unfasten her
jeans. A long night lay ahead.

Billy sat in
his office in the dark. From upstairs came the sounds of Arnold and
Betsy still in the throes of passion. It was incredible. How long
had it been now? Three hours? Four? They had moved into Betsy's
bedroom which was just above Billy's room. The wail of Betsy's
umpteenth orgasm rang through his head like a bell. He
absentmindedly nibbled one of Arnold's biscuits. He felt very small
indeed.

The mystery of
his permanent erection raged on. Between his legs glowed and
throbbed the biggest boner of his life. After he had crept
downstairs he had taken his cock out and looked at it, given it a
good shake and, shivering with pent-up lust, in a few quick strokes
had shot his load into a wad of paper tissues. That, however, had
not solved his problem. His cock had remained obstinately erect,
teak-hard and unyielding.

Now, some
hours later, it was still as stiff as ever. He fretted. Perhaps
this recent surfeit of sex had done him some physiological damage?
Could he be suffering from some rare disease of the dick which
meant it would never subside? That would be terrible. Imagine going
round the rest of his days with a permanent erection. Think of
visiting his mother or helping an old lady across the road - a
lifetime of humiliation and embarrassment flashed through his mind.
He'd have to have special clothes made. Throw out his entire
wardrobe and invest in handmade garments designed to conceal the
pole in his pants. And what about public toilets? It was a
frightful prospect.

What Billy
wanted was his equipment back to normal. He longed for the return
of his regular appendage that went up and down on command, like an
aeroplane undercarriage, so he could land and take off at will.
There was no obvious advantage in life in being permanently primed
for the act of fornication.

The phone rang
once more, interrupting his depressing reverie. Who the hell could
this be?

'Billy, it's
Candy Kensington. You must come at once.'

Billy was
astonished. He floundered. He had never expected to hear from her
again.

'Billy, you
must help me. This is an emergency.'

And indeed it
did seem like one. This was a different sounding woman to the
haughty bitch who had thrown him out of her house earlier in the
day.

'What's the
problem, Candy?'

'Oh God, it's
awful. I've got a spider in my bath.'

Twenty minutes
later Billy stood in the imposing portico of the Kensington
mansion. He knew if he had any sense he'd have gone home hours ago
but the throbbing between his legs had not abated and the vision in
his mind of Candy Kensington's long bare legs led him on.

As he stepped
inside the door Candy threw herself into his arms, a sweet-smelling
bundle of loose hair and soft flesh wrapped in a silk kimono. She
was sobbing out loud, spilling tears into the crook of his
neck.

'Oh Billy,'
she said, 'I'm so pleased to see you, it's been ghastly.'

One hand
between her shoulder blades, the other on the curve of her hip,
Billy thrilled to the glow of her body heat through the thin
material.

She held him
close, embracing him with the whole length of her and seemingly
unconsciously rubbing her belly against the spike of his
erection.

'Come on,' she
said at length and led him up the stairs and through a vast bedroom
into a bathroom that was merely large; it glistened with mirrors
and marble tiles and gold taps. The bath was sunken, with room
enough for three. It made the spider seem positively minute. It sat
peacefully by the plughole, probably the least malevolent insect in
the whole of Northwest London.

'Right,' said
Billy, deciding to make the most of this opportunity for heroism.
He removed his jacket and handed it to the damsel in distress, who
stood hesitantly behind him. In all honesty she did appear to be
petrified.

He resisted
the obvious temptation to turn on the bath tap. Instead he took a
credit card from his wallet and a tooth glass from the sink.

'What are you
going to do?'

'Just watch.'
And he popped the glass over the spider and the card between the
glass and the bath. The spider obligingly stood on it and was
flipped into the tumbler. Billy held it aloft triumphantly.