'Oh,
Ambrosia!'
'Now now,
Sophie, what did I say about addressing me in the office?'
'I'm sorry,
ma'am.'
'That's
better.' Ambrosia sat on the chair in front of her desk and kicked
off her shoes. 'I'm all wound up, I need to relax. Why don't you
come here and help me?'
'Yes, ma'am,'
said Sophie in resignation as she sank to her knees before the
parted thighs of her superior.
'That's it,
Starkers, I'm feeling better already. And while you're kissing my
pussy I'll work out exactly where we go from here in the question
of Danny bloody Fretwork.'
As Billy was
boiling the kettle he heard the sound of a key in the front door.
He glanced up to see Katie Crisp bearing down on him, grim and
efficient in a starched white blouse and black skirt. Nevertheless
Billy couldn't help but think of the perfumed mass of pussy hair
and the creamy white flesh that this severe costume concealed.
She gave him
her customary smirk and said, 'Playing housemaid, are we? Our
little session the other morning must have done you some good.'
'Up yours,
Katie,' he said cheerfully.
'You wish.'
And she eyed the front of his trousers where once more, ever eager,
stood the evidence of her effect on him. 'Can't you learn to
control yourself? Or does my presence make it impossible?'
As Billy
floundered for a suitable response she demanded, 'Where's the
degenerate superstar? Not still in bed, I trust.'
'No, ma'am,'
came the soft voice from the doorway, 'I'm right here.'
Katie was
completely unfazed. 'Good. We can't have you lounging around all
day. Important people want to meet you, God knows why. While you
are here you must earn your corn, as I believe you Yanks say.'
'Yes, ma'am,'
replied Brick obediently, 'whatever you say.'
'Hang on,'
said Billy, 'Imogen told me yesterday that Brick had no fixed
agenda, he could please himself.'
'That's all
changed. Candida Kensington is holding a little lunch party for
some of her friends and she wants him up there by one. I believe
you know the way, do you not?'
'Now wait a
minute, Katie, I don't know whether Brick would find that kind of
occasion to his liking. I'm sure if I explained to Candy—'
'Billy, it's
OK.' Brick had stepped forward and was now addressing himself
directly to Ms Crisp. 'Whatever this young woman says is OK by me.
I'm here to do a job. Besides, I might meet some nice English
ladies who appreciate my kind of music.'
'You'll meet
them all right,' said Katie, evidently unimpressed by the
American's compliance, 'they'll all be old enough to have heard of
you.' And she turned on her heel and left.
'Wowee,'
whistled Brick, 'that's some gal. What wouldn't I give for some
nooky juice right now!'
'That reminds
me,' muttered Billy, heading for the phone.
Arnold Brie
turned up half an hour later.
'Billy!' he
cried, hugging him like a long lost relative. 'I've been looking
all over for you. You've changed my life. I love Betsy. I want to
marry her. We're going to open a gourmet restaurant in the country
and have a litter of children...'
'Put me down,
Arnold! What an impetuous fellow you are. I wouldn't rush into
anything with Betsy, if I were you. Now you're back in the swing,
why don't you try out your wicked weapon elsewhere?'
'Well...'
'There's no
time to talk now. Have you got the stuff?'
'Yes.'
'Follow me.
And remember, you're a doctor.'
Brick was
looking pretty cool in his tight jeans, cowboy boots and soft
leather jacket so fine it hung on his broad frame like spun
silk.
'I thought I'd
best tool up for the ladies luncheon,' he explained as Billy and
Arnold entered the living room.
Billy made the
introductions and noticed with some trepidation that Arnold was
awed by the great man's presence. He forgot to let go of Brick's
hand when he shook it and gazed at him with mouth agape.
'As you
agreed, Brick, I've been telling Dr Brie a bit about the problem
you mentioned earlier. Dr Brie is a specialist in the area of
fading powers and has experimented successfully with herbal tonics.
There's just a chance he may be able to help you.'
Brick had been
looking increasingly sceptical during this speech and now said to
Arnold, 'Is this true, doctor?'
'Oh yes, no
problem, Brick. Hey, it's really great to meet you, man.'
'You can give
me something to perk my pecker up?'
'Absolutely.
Here—' and Arnold produced a small vial with a dropper top from his
pocket. 'Take four drops, two in each nostril, about half an hour
before the action. You'll soon be boffing those groupies just like
the old days. I guarantee it.'
'So it's like
nooky juice?'
'Yes,' said
Billy. 'Take some now, Brick.'
'But we're off
to some old dame's lunch. I'm not likely to need it there.'
'Believe me,
Brick, Candy Kensington's house is where a man needs nooky juice
most of all...'
In the
distance there was the noise of hearty conversation and the ringing
of telephones but in Ambrosia Spicer's office there was silence. It
was broken only by soft sighs and murmurings, the whisper of flesh
on flesh and the occasional hiss of indrawn breath. And the
rhythmic slick-slick sound of lubricated genitals being
pleasured.
Ambrosia
Spicer's skirt was bunched around her waist and her panties were
crumpled around her left ankle. The regions in between were
completely nude, laid bare by Sophie to kiss and stroke and fondle
and admire. Sophie was a conscientious lover and she had taken her
instructions to relax Ambrosia very seriously. So far she had
relaxed her comprehensively twice with her mouth and once with her
fingers and Ambrosia's large prominent cunt was flushed with its
exertions.
Sophie rested
her head on the other woman's thighs and contemplated the pretty
sex delta ahead of her. The long slit lay open and exposed beneath
the brown thatch of pussy fur at the top of Ambrosia's crack. The
fleshy vaginal lips were curled outward like butterfly wings,
revealing the pink and juicy entrance to the tunnel within.
'You have the
loveliest pussy, ma'am,' said Sophie, but Ambrosia did not reply.
She simply ran a hand fondly through Sophie's thick curls and then
firmly pressed her head back into her crotch. Sophie opened her
mouth to resume the cuntal kiss, reaching forward to grip the
other's taut buttocks and slip a finger into the smooth divide
between to gently titillate Ambrosia's puckered arse-hole.
The great
detective began to relax seriously once more. 'Ooh, that's good.
Mmm, yes. And now my clit. Flick it lightly with your tongue. Ohhh,
yes. You know what I like, don't you? Oh Sophie Stark, I swear you
are the greatest cunt-licker on the Force!'
Sophie gripped
Ambrosia tighter, her palms digging into the soft buttocks to pull
the spread pussy onto her eager lips and tongue. Her forefinger was
rimming Ambrosia's bum-hole from the rear, forcing itself into the
tight ring of muscle while she ran the pointed tip of her tongue up
and down the wet pussy slit from the front. The result was all too
predictable as Ambrosia thrust her loins back and forth, forcing
the finger up her arse and the tongue deep into her cunt.
'Oh yes,' she
cried, 'yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!'
And she came
in a final, bucking lurch that pitched Sophie backwards onto the
floor and left her looking up at her superior's widespread thighs
scissoring back and forth in her orgasmic spasms.
Silence was
resumed. Both parties sprawled as they were, catching their breath.
Within Sophie's loins there was an unbearable itch but she didn't
dare do anything about it. Finally Ambrosia spoke.
'Look in the
bottom left-hand drawer of my desk.'
Sophie obeyed.
'There's nothing in it. Just a truncheon.'
'Exactly.
Bring it here and take your knickers off.'
'Ambrosia, you
can't!'
'Oh yes, I
can. Besides, I know you, you're mad about sex. You must be dying
to come off. And since we all know how much you prefer a big thick
staff to a delicate feminine hand then this will do very well.'
'You can't
make me!'
But Sophie was
already unfastening her skirt to reveal her long tanned legs and
shapely loins barely covered by a wisp of panty that was undeniably
wet.
'On your
knees, your arse facing me. I'm going to fuck you
doggie-fashion.'
'You're a
bitch, Ambrosia.'
'You said it. Oooh, you
are
wet, aren't you? It's slipping straight
in.'
'Oh God,
Ambrosia! It's too big! I can't take it!'
'Nonsense,
it's up you already.'
And it was
too, some eight inches of wooden pole were buried deep in Sophie's
snatch as she bent over in front of the still-seated Ambrosia. Her
smooth broad bum cheeks were thrust high and spread wide to reveal
the long furrow of her arse-crack, the pink star of her anus
winking up at Ambrosia as she worked the truncheon in and out of
the pouting pussy lips below.
'How do you
like that, Sophie? You can play with your clit at the same time. In
fact, that's an order.'
'Oh God,
Ambrosia, this is so rude! Suppose someone comes in!'
'You weren't
worried about that when you were sucking me. Besides, they're
probably peeping through the keyhole.'
'Oh no!'
'I'm going to
make you come lots, Starkers. It aids my concentration. Especially
if I imagine I'm doing this to your friend Patsy Fretwork.'
'Oh Ambrosia!
Oh, I'm coming! Oh! OH!'
'Patsy
Fretwork is the one we've got to get to. I think I'll give that
reporter bitch a grilling. I won't get anywhere but it might freak
Patsy out.'
'Ambrosia,
please! Oh God, I think I'm going to come again!'
'Then it'll be
up to you to crack Mrs Fretwork. Got that, Sophie?'
'Yes,
Ambrosia, yes!'
'Good. Do you
want me to stop now, Sophie?'
'Don't you bloody dare! Oh, Ambrosia, that's
fantastic!
'
Billy watched
Brick closely as they drove to St John's Wood in a taxi. Beyond
asking Billy if he was sure Arnold was a real doctor - to which
Billy had responded that he was an alternative practitioner - Brick
had lapsed into his former state of sullen silence.
As they
alighted outside Candy's house, Billy checked his watch. It was
twenty-five minutes silence Brick had taken Arnold's wonder drops,
at any moment now he should achieve lift-off.
A male flunky
ushered them into the house - a young handsome male flunky, Billy
noted. Doubtless he doubled as an artist's model as part of his
duties.
Candy emerged
in a cocoon of seductive perfume, her face a picture of ecstasy at
the sight of her longtime idol. She offered him a slender hand and
Billy watched with trepidation. This should be it, he calculated:
the first touch of finely groomed female flesh on a man starved of
sexual frisson for five years. This surely was the ultimate test of
Arnold's skill.
Billy was not
disappointed. As he later told Arnold, it was like plugging a man
into the national grid. A bolt of electricity seemed to shoot from
Candy's small hand into Brick's large one. His eyes flicked fully
open for the first time in Billy's short acquaintance and all those
grimly etched lines on his face suddenly danced into life as he
bent forward and kissed Candy on both cheeks.
'I sure am
delighted to meet you, ma'am. It's a privilege to be invited onto
your Gala programme and into your lovely home.'
'How do you
do, Mr Tempo?' said Candy, gazing upward into Brick's crinkly
smiling face, familiar to her for so many years and now actually
here in the handsome, larger-than-life flesh. 'I hope Billy is
taking good care of you.'
'I've just got
one complaint about Billy,' he said, his eyes dancing with
mischief, his face close to hers, 'he never told me what a
beautiful woman you are.'
'Oh, Mr
Tempo!' Candy was a lost soul already, Billy could see that. He
dropped his eyes to the crotch of Brick's jeans. Just as he thought
- this could be a most interesting social occasion.
A buffet lunch
had been laid in Candy's vast sunlit dining-room and her guests
were well into the aperitif champagne by the time Brick made his
entrance. The hum of conversation was already substantial but it
noticeably kicked up a level after the rock star's broad shoulders
appeared in the doorway. There was even a spontaneous burst of
applause which Brick acknowledged with a modest wave of the
hand.
As forecast by
Katie, the ladies at Candy's lunch were of a certain age, best
defined as 'middle'. However, they were all women who had suffered
the passage of time with the wherewithal to cushion its worst
blows. Here were trim, pampered and elegantly preserved females
dressed to kill in the most lavish of designer garments. But though
they sported the most expensive accessories that the fashion houses
of Milan, Paris and New York had to offer they were themselves far
from simply decorative. These women wielded influence and
chequebooks. Candy certainly knew her market.
Brick inclined
his mouth to Billy's ear and said simply, 'Hot damn!' From then on
he was borne away into the throng, with Candy on his arm, prodding
and patting his handsome frame at every opportunity as she began
the serious business of introducing him to wealthy wives, business
executives, aggressive charity fund-raisers and even a newly
appointed Cabinet minister.