Hot Pursuit (14 page)

‘You're not going to answer that one?' Anne asked as Lucy unfastened the scarves from her wrists.

Lucy released her ankles from their loose bindings at the footboard and took over Anne's position on the bed. Not letting herself be troubled by the exasperation at having to concede a round of the game, she remained silent until her hands and feet were secured. Patiently, she allowed Anne to climb on top of her before considering her own question.

Passion and the night's sultry warmth had coated both their bodies with a viscous sheen of perspiration. Anne's thighs were clammy against her ribcage but, rather than spoiling Lucy's mood, the stickiness of their flesh only added to her excitement.

‘Go on,' Anne coaxed, lowering her cleft closer to Lucy's mouth. She pushed a hand between her legs and splayed the pink lips of her sex. The flesh was polished with a lustre of wetness and the bead of her clitoris throbbed like a tempting beacon. Grinning madly, clearly basking in the unreal pleasure of the game, she said, ‘Ask a question.'

Lucy stared up at her, looking beyond the inviting haven of her pussy. The desire to devour was unconscionably strong, but the game-player within her wanted to see Anne squirm with the same delightful discomfort that she had just been made to suffer. ‘What were you doing in the service station?' she asked sharply.

Not waiting for a reply, acting as quickly as the restraints would allow, she buried her nose in the musky depths of Anne's sex. The musky scent was as invigorating as she had known it would be and she
drank its sweet flavour before rolling her tongue against the slippery lips.

Anne bit back a moan and Lucy could feel tension tightening the mousy-blonde's muscles. Her voice seemed to come from faraway but Lucy couldn't work out if that was because Anne was trying to distance herself from the pleasure, or simply because the woman's thighs were now clamped around her ears. ‘I was eating a chicken dinner,' Anne confided. ‘As I remember, it was a bit on the nasty side. You should know. You finished it, didn't you?'

Lucy pulled her face away, knowing Anne was teasing and astounded that a norm could treat her so frivolously. Glaring indignantly, not allowing herself to be swayed by Anne's devilish grin, she asked, ‘Why were you in the service station? How come you were a hundred miles or more away from your family and friends, and all on your own?' Without waiting for an answer, she returned her mouth to Anne's sex. Burying her tongue deep inside, feeling the pulse of muscles clench greedily around her, she swallowed the rich syrup of the mousy-blonde's arousal.

Anne writhed easily above her, drinking deep breaths before responding. When she spoke her voice was made low with excitement. ‘I was taking a life-sabbatical,' Anne decided. ‘The people I went to college with, especially the potheads, would have said I was taking time out
to find myself
. That's what I was doing in the service station.'

‘And, have you done that?' Lucy grunted the question between intimate kisses. ‘Have you found yourself?'

Anne grinned and shivered as another thrill of pleasure cascaded through her slender frame. Her breasts jostled enticingly as she revelled in the rising bliss. Lowering her voice, whispering the words like a
practised seducer, she confided, ‘No. I didn't find myself. You found me.'

Lucy quietly cursed herself for suggesting this game, cursed her own conflicting urges of arousal and curiosity, and then cursed Anne for giving answers she didn't want to hear. It seemed that each time the mousy-blonde spoke she gave away more about her growing affection and Lucy knew that every moment they spent together would make it more difficult when she and Anne had to go their separate ways. Those thoughts sapped the pleasure of licking at Anne's sex, and Lucy's enjoyment of being bound beneath her. She continued, knowing that her new friend was close to orgasm and not wanting to spoil Anne's pleasure with her own grim mood.

‘Go on,' Anne said, gliding her cleft wetly from side to side. The sticky labia left a wet residue over Lucy's nose, lips and jaw. ‘Ask another question,' she insisted. ‘Ask whatever you want.'

Lucy collapsed back against the bed and glared up at her. ‘Why were you trying to find yourself? From what you've said before it sounds like you had everything in your life: a good career, a respectable home, a dependable man who wanted to marry you. Isn't that everything a girl could want?'

Anne's smile evaporated and Lucy thought she looked like the despondent young woman she had first seen in the service station. ‘I don't want to play this game any more,' she said, slipping off the bed. She walked to the room's minibar, her naked body briefly illuminated by the glow of the headlamps that shone against the curtained window. Swigging at a miniature bottle of scotch, and grimacing at its undiluted taste, she glared sullenly at Lucy and said, ‘I guess the game was a draw.'

Bewildered by the sudden shift in her temperament, Lucy pulled herself free from the loose bindings and
went to her side. Anne tried to move away from her embrace at first but Lucy was determined and eventually she held the mousy-blonde's naked body against her own. The smell of the freshly consumed scotch was ripe and unpleasant on her breath but Lucy was beyond caring about such trivialities. She was more concerned by the inexplicable distress she had caused. ‘What did I say?'

‘You know bloody well what you said,' Anne grumbled. ‘You talked about boring bloody careers, boring bloody homes and dependable bloody blokes as though they were all I could ever aspire to.' When Anne raised her head her eyes were bloodshot with the threat of tears and her lower lip trembled. ‘You were mocking me, weren't you?'

Lucy shook her head, stunned that she had touched such a raw nerve. ‘It was just a question for the game,' she said honestly. She squeezed Anne tighter, appalled that she could have inadvertently caused such upset and anxious to make amends. When Anne finally relented, and returned the embrace, Lucy was treated to a surge of relief stronger than any emotion she had felt all evening. They walked slowly back to the bed, exchanging hurried kisses as a way of bridging the gap that had almost come between them.

‘I was bored with the monotony of a humdrum existence,' Anne said eventually. She stared toward the window, her frown momentarily deepening as her gaze fixed on the twin circles of headlamps that shone against the curtains. Unconsciously she massaged Lucy's bare breast, teasing the stiff nipple between her finger and thumb. Lucy didn't think she was aware of the pleasure she was exciting because her features were haunted by a faraway look. ‘You probably wouldn't understand,' Anne continued softly.
‘I'm not sure I get it myself. But I was eager to exploit the desire for something different. Can you understand what I'm saying? Or do I sound like one of those potheads from my old college?'

Amazed by the answer, sure it meant something that she hadn't dared hope, Lucy pushed Anne back against the bed and licked her cleft with fresh frenzy. This time there was no need for restraints and, when their bodies joined, Lucy thought it was the union they had been waiting for since they first met. Their initial encounter in the service station and their brief liaison in the adjacent motel, both seemed like inconsequential preparations for this moment. Anne wrapped her thighs over Lucy's shoulders, holding her in place and bucking her hips idly backward and forward. Lucy caressed as much skin as was available, stroking Anne's hips, waist and chest, then reaching for her breasts and kneading urgently. Her fingertips caught the thrust of Anne's nipples and she tugged more forcefully on the straining buds of flesh. She heard the mousy-blonde groan, knew the sound was borne more from pleasure than pain, and made her grip fractionally tighter.

All the time she kept her tongue buried deep in her new friend's sex. The rich flavour of Anne's musk, the exotic fragrance of feminine arousal, plastered Lucy's mouth and added its own rich hue to her own growing arousal. Kneeling on the floor, fervently trying to coax her tongue deeper, she nuzzled against the thrust of Anne's clitoris and tightened her grip on both nipples.

Anne groaned again, this time adding words of encouragement for the brutal treatment she was enduring. Her responsiveness was apparent and Lucy could sense that when the mousy-blonde finally reached her orgasm, it would be the most powerful
yet. She idly speculated that she would probably reach her own peak from simply lapping at her new friend something about Anne engendered an empathy that Lucy had never encountered before but that was only one of myriad haphazard thoughts that jumbled through her mind as she lost herself in the pleasure.

The noise of the revving engine grew louder but Lucy considered herself beyond caring about the distraction. She was lost in discovery of Anne's body and it would have taken a lot more than the distant growl of a parked car to properly distract her. Even when the noise became more impatient, the guttural trill reaching a level that shook the glass in the window frames, Lucy barely heard the sound. She was lost in the thrall of Anne's scream of release and her own reciprocal orgasm.

The climax started between them, with Anne's inner muscles clenching spasmodically and forcing her to thrash manically on the bed as the pleasure took its hold. The muscles in her thighs locked against Lucy's shoulders and she briefly raised her buttocks away from the bed, burying her own shoulders deep into the mattress. As the first wave of orgasm scorched through her she collapsed into the cotton sheet and screeched with undiluted joy.

Lucy continued licking, delirious with her own unexpected release and anxious to sate Anne with another climactic burst. She felt dizzy from exertion and elation but she was intent on taking Anne to those heights she had just relished and keeping her there for as long as she was able.

Anne brushed the back of her hand against Lucy's face.

When their eyes met, she didn't need to speak to say that the orgasm had drained her. Lucy wordlessly
lifted her head and was happy to join her on the sweat-soiled sheet. It was while they were lying together, exchanging kisses and murmuring their gratitude, that Lucy noticed the intolerable noise that was coming from outside.

The car was now revving loud enough to rattle the glass in the windows. The noise was so loud it threatened to spoil the magic of the moment and Lucy knew she couldn't stand it any longer. Excusing herself to Anne, she leapt from the bed, went to the motel door, and bawled for the driver's attention.

She had known it wouldn't be the Isis. Sending Donald and Ginger to wait outside a nearby motel called the Welsh Dragon, while she and Anne escaped to the Red Dragon, had been part of her plan to ensure a decent night's rest. But still, there had been a moment when she feared they might have discovered where she was really hiding. Glaring at the driver of the Ford, not caring that she was naked, Lucy pointed behind herself and called, ‘My friend and I are trying to fuck in here. Why don't you piss off and rev your engine somewhere else?' She watched the vehicle until the Ford had sheepishly reversed out of the car park and disappeared into the night.

Closing the door quietly, turning to see that Anne still lay on the bed, she was touched by a thrill of excitement at what the night still had to offer. Her expectations of more pleasure were dashed as soon as Anne spoke.

‘This adventure we're having,' she began.

Lucy frowned, intuitively sensing the question before it was asked. She thought of silencing Anne, maybe reminding her that they had stopped playing the question-and-answer game, then realised that would be cowardly and unfair. ‘What about our adventure?' she asked simply.

‘How long is it going to last?'

Lucy's frown deepened. She hadn't intended keeping Anne's company for this long. And, if events went according to her current plan, she could see they would go their separate ways before tomorrow evening. It was regrettable but she could also see it might be unavoidable. As much as she was enjoying the companionship of her new friend, and knew their relationship could develop into something so much more satisfying, there was the chase to deal with first and that had to rank as her main priority.

‘How long?' Anne repeated. Uncertainty made the words tremble.

Lucy couldn't bring herself to say what she had planned for tomorrow. Flexing a reassuring smile, trying to shape her answer so it was honest without revealing too much, she said, ‘Our adventure should last long enough to satisfy us both.' Turning her face away, not wanting Anne to read the truth lurking beneath her false smile, and despising herself for offering false hope, she said, ‘It might even last longer than that.'

‘I'm looking for the library of deeds,' Ginger's pet blonde confided. ‘I've been told I need to seek help from a man called
the record keeper.'

The elderly figure puffed out his narrow chest and gestured to the room around them. ‘This is the library of deeds,' he declared. Holding a thin hand over his breast he added, ‘And I am the record keeper. Who are you and what do you want?'

Ginger's pet blonde swallowed uneasily. She glanced behind him at the library and her eyes grew wide with wonder as she tried to take in the three storeys of wooden filing cabinets that lined the walls. Their honey-coloured lustre added a golden sheen to the light, dispelling her anticipation of spending a day in gloomy drudgery. A collection of leather-bound tomes dominated one corner, a small table and two wingback chairs sat to the side of the record keeper's desk, while the rest of the room appeared devoted to the storage of deeds of indenture. The knowledge that her own documents were certainly kept here, and those of Ginger and Lucy and a thousand or more just like them, made the blonde feel humbled. But she brushed those considerations aside when she caught the stern tone of the record keeper's voice. Regarding him with unquestionable deference, studying him
meekly from beneath fluttering eyelashes, she began her hesitant introduction with the words, ‘My mistress sent me here.'