Lust on the Loose (36 page)

Which one, she
pondered, would she have first? Thomas, the younger, was bigger and
she longed for the full-up feeling she knew he would give her as he
stretched wide her long-neglected cunt. It might be best, however,
to let Giles fuck her first and then big Thomas, coming second,
would open her further. What a problem for a maiden aunt! Perhaps
she'd let them choose, she didn't want to show favouritism.

Minty Hush had
her eye on the royal box. The drink Lionel had brought her had not
had an effect for a while. And when things began to hot up, clothes
began to fly and a flushed Lionel had turned to her expectantly,
she had pushed him away.

'Ask her,' she
had said, angrily pointing to a buxom nymphet congoing raunchily in
the aisle amidst a crunch of groping bodies, 'she's just your
type.' To her chagrin Lionel took the rebuff in his stride and now,
as Minty was only too aware, he was fucking the nymphet
doggie-fashion over a row of seats, his hands juggling the generous
pears of her dangling breasts.

It was while
watching this display that the urge had hit Minty, like a match
flaring in her loins and lighting a fire that now raged unchecked
throughout her body. God, she needed a fuck!

But Minty was
not someone to throw herself to the mercy of chance, even in the
throes of lust she calculated. She had not been to bed with anyone
who wasn't worthy of a colour-supplement profile for years and she
wasn't about to start now. Which was why she slipped out of the
auditorium and crept up the stairs to the royal box.

Her luck was
in. The detective assigned to Prince Roger now lay on the lawn
outside on top of Lavender Roe, his trousers round his
size-fourteen feet.

Minty boldly
entered the box and found herself witness to an act of royal
buggery. Inez lay across two chairs, her rosy rump thrust upwards
to receive Prince Roger's diminutive but willing member in the
tight little hole of her anus.

'Good
gracious,' he said, 'it's Minty Hush. Where did you spring
from?'

'I wondered,'
said Minty, seizing her opportunity, 'if I might have a private
word with you, sir.'

'You can have
anything you like. I'm a great fan of yours, you know. But just at
the moment I'm a bit tied up.'

Minty bent her
mouth to his ear and whispered, 'I'm surprised you want to put your
cock in that particular orifice, sir, you don't know who's been
there before you.'

'Eh?'

The Prince
stopped pumping.

'We ran an
investigation on Inez for the programme, sir, but we didn't dare
show it. There's been an army of Spanish playboys up her bum before
you.'

'Good Lord.'
The royal dick jerked rudely backwards, vacating its cosy home in
some haste. Inez cast a bemused look behind her and was obviously
surprised to see they were not alone.

'Get lost for
a bit, will you, Inez? I've got some things to discuss with Miss
Hush.'

Inez opened
her mouth to protest but the royal hand fell with a smart slap on
her exposed buttocks. It rose again but Inez had got the message
and she scampered out of the door clad in nothing but her blouse
and suspenders, shooting Minty a venomous glance as she did so.

Minty was
unfazed. She presented her back to the Prince, her curves tightly
delineated in form-hugging satin of canary yellow.

'Perhaps, sir,
I can provide a substitute for your attentions.' And she began to
pull the material of her dress upwards over the backs of her thighs
to her hips, revealing a deliciously curved derriere, whose twin
cheeks were flimsily veiled by matching yellow knickers. She bent
over to present her bottom to its best advantage, the sheer
material stretching taut over the full moons of her buttocks. And
as she felt rough fingers tugging the underwear impatiently down
her thighs, then delving feverishly between the tender rounds of
her cheeks, she thought to herself, 'Scoop!'

Billy Dazzle
watched in amazement as members of the Marian Mucus troupe, this
time authentically naked, twirled and pirouetted in the centre of
the stage. He compared legs and breasts and pubic muffs - or the
absence thereof - while at the same time marvelling at their grace.
They flew through the air as light as thistledown, their long legs
scissoring open, their little buttocks twinkling, their high small
breasts scarcely wobbling on their chests. Two of the girls had
shaved their pussies and, though he was a good twenty feet away, he
imagined the neat pink valves between their legs opening and
shutting with each bound of their buoyant limbs.

A knot of
admirers avidly watched the show. Every so often one of the dancers
would twirl away from the group and pick herself a man from the
crowd to exercise her lithe skills upon. Then she would return to
the dance, her thighs glistening with a film of spunk, a satisfied
grin upon her face.

'What a
remarkable scene, dear boy,' murmured a gravelly voice in Billy's
ear. 'It's positively Dionysian, isn't it? We are privileged to be
present at one of the great orgies of our age.'

Billy
immediately recognised the fruity tones of Peregrine Carstairs, the
television arts presenter. His was a name to conjure with, a
profile on one of his programmes was a passport to celebrity on the
Hampstead dinner-party circuit. Billy, fortunately, had no such
ambitions.

'You ought to
make a programme about it,' he replied.

'Alas, the
forces of repression would rise against us. We'd probably lose the
franchise. I am, however, thinking of featuring the Mucus nymphs.
They are remarkably talented.'

At precisely
that moment, as if to demonstrate his point, the tallest of the
dancers beckoned to a trouserless man in the crowd. Ushering her
chosen partner to the centre of the stage, she instructed him to
lie flat on his back and hold his penis perpendicular to his body.
Then, with a skip, a run and a flying leap she did the splits upon
the lucky fellow, skewering the head of his impressive member in
the moist little notch of her hairless cunt. She sank upon it with
the grace of a future prima ballerina, her arms describing a
classic arabesque, her large pointed nipples dark smudges in the
half-light.

'I see what
you mean,' said Billy.

'You are a discerning young man. I've been watching you. You
stand aloof from the crowd and observe. However, I wonder if I
could persuade you to participate on this memorable occasion? How
would you like to suck my
thing
.'

Billy was
suddenly jolted from his envious contemplation of the dancer's
undulating buttocks.

'I'm sorry,
Perry,' he said. 'Though naturally I'm flattered, your kind of
thing is not mine.' And he fled, fast.

Billy was not
remaining aloof for any particular reason. He had not abstained
from Arnold's punch - far from it - and desire burned in his loins
just as furiously as it did in others. However, this was indeed a
unique occasion. All around him were luscious women - beautiful,
expensive, pampered, exotic women - and, for once, they were
stripped of their inhibitions. He could have almost any of them for
the asking. So he looked around for one he really wanted.

He found her
in a box at stage level which was partly filled with lighting
equipment. Imogen sat in the near darkness coolly smoking a
cigarette. There was an empty chair beside her and Billy subsided
into it.

'I've just
been propositioned by Peregrine Carstairs.'

'Poor Perry,'
said Imogen, 'he's having a tough time finding a partner tonight. I
had half a mind to tell him to try Prince Roger but Minty Hush has
jumped the queue.'

'My God, I
didn't know the Prince was gay.'

'According to
Inez, he's a latent bumboy. Apparently he tried to bugger her so
she ran off and left him to Minty.'

'She'll soon
straighten him out.' Billy had no doubts on that score. He knew for
a fact that Minty Hush was a persuasive performer once she had
warmed up.

'I suppose
you've come to claim your bonus,' said Imogen, blowing a cloud of
smoke in his direction.

'Well...'
Faced with her imperturbable stare, Billy was struck by a sudden
failure of confidence.

'Get on with
it, then,' said Imogen. 'Fuck me if you want to, I won't stop
you.'

She took hold
of the bodice of her white satin dress and jerked it down to her
waist. Her soft ripe breasts spilled out, the long pink tips firm
and pointed. She continued to smoke. With her free hand she cupped
her left breast and squeezed, pushing the nipple into greater
prominence. Billy remembered how she had displayed her breasts for
him before.

She smiled.
'You like them, don't you?'

'Yes.'

'I suppose you
want to see the rest.' She didn't wait for a reply but reached down
and pulled the hem of her dress up to her waist so that the
expensive gown lay bunched in a band around her waist. She braced
her feet apart on the floor and thrust her pelvis forward. Her legs
were long, her nylons were sheer, her thighs were firm. She wore no
panties and her cunt was framed by the thin white straps of her
suspenders. She ran a hand through her bush, fluffing the hair up
and out, teasing it away from the long crack that ran from north to
south between her legs.

Billy sat
motionless, his eyes focused on those teasing fingers, his heart
pounding in his chest.

The
half-slumped figure of Imogen slowly finished her cigarette while
she played with her pussy for Billy's pleasure. She was excited
now, he could see that. Her vaginal juices glistened on her probing
fingers. She dropped her cigarette butt and ground it out with her
heel.

Both hands
were now in her wide-open crotch, one at the top of her split, two
fingers splayed downwards in a vee, opening her treasure to his
gaze. She plunged the fingers of her other hand into the pretty
mouth of her cunt, in and out in an obvious rhythm, her top hand
rubbing over the hood of her engorged clitoris.

Billy watched
her inviting bosom rise and fall as her breath came harder and
faster. He resisted the temptation to reach out and grasp those
tempting, trembling mounds of flesh. He was determined to wait
until he had seen iceberg Imogen melt completely.

She came in a
frenzy, her hand buried almost to the wrist within her, her left
forefinger flicking over her clit. Her head tossed from side to
side, disturbing her elaborately styled hair which now tumbled down
her swan-like neck. Her eyes were closed and her mouth hung open
and she made no sound apart from a succession of breathy grunts
which were swallowed up in the tumult around them.

Billy waited
until she had completely finished and she lay slack and dull-eyed
in front of him. Her thighs lolled apart, revealing her wet and
puffy pussy lips.

He got to his
feet and began to undress.

'Don't take
your clothes off,' she said, 'take your cock out.'

'You do it,'
he said, stepping close to her, his bulging crotch on a level with
her head.

She did as she
was told, unzipping him in a trice and prying his whole tackle into
the open. One hand was around his shaft, the other cupped his
balls. Her eyes sparkled.

'My secret
weapon,' she said. 'I'd better show my gratitude.'

She lowered
her head and sucked his aching knob into her mouth, running her
tongue around the cap. She let it slide from her mouth and licked
the length of his shaft to take first one ball, then the other into
her mouth.

'Mmm,' she
said. 'I think you do deserve your bonus after all.'

Billy fell to
his knees between her thighs and held the head of his penis against
her enlarged clit, thrilling her sweetest spot.

'For God's
sake, put it in!' she hissed.

'You really
want me to, Imogen?'

'Yes, I do. I
want that big thing in me to the root.'

Billy could
not hold back any longer, sliding his swollen member down the
length of her split and thrusting it between the lips of her gaping
pussy. She twined her legs behind his back, locking her ankles
together, whimpering with pleasure as she did so. Her arse was now
completely off the seat, giving him free access to fondle and
squeeze her firm bum cheeks as he swung his big tool deep into the
delicious channel between her legs. Their mouths locked and they
kissed hungrily.

It did not
last long. The pent-up passion could not be restrained for more
than a minute or so. She began to come first, this time in a long
sustained moan that rang out through the auditorium, and his groans
mingled with hers as the two of them shivered the course of a
cataclysmic orgasm.

When it was
over she pushed a lock of hair from out of his eye and kissed him
tenderly.

'I'm sorry to
tell you this, Billy, but you're fired.'

'What do you
mean?'

'What I say,
that's why I was reluctant to grant you your bonus. You see, I
never fuck the help.'

She jostled
her loins companionably against him. His cock was still hard within
her.

'However, now
you're off the payroll, I don't see why we can't socialise.'

'Is that what
you call it?' said Billy, grinning now, after all he had only lost
a client, not a career.

Her hand was
now between their bodies, ringing his cock at the base where it
thrust between her pussy lips. 'Come on, private dick, socialise me
again...'

Danny was
flagging. In order to keep a clear head he had laid off the booze
and so had failed to benefit from Arnold's inspirational punch. And
the more he flagged the more in demand he appeared to be.