Lust on the Loose (9 page)

'Oh God,
Tracy,' he breathed, 'that's better. Under the bed, listening to
you, was just torture.'

'Ssh, Billy,'
sighed Tracy, drawing his face to the luscious mounds of her tits
and feeding a fat pink nipple between his lips. Wriggling the firm
flesh of her bottom against his thighs, she began the process of
relieving his tensions and mending his bruised ego. She gently
posted up and down on his body, cradling his tense and desperate
cock deep within her, soothing its hurts and easing its
frustrations.

Billy lay back
and took his medicine. Such sweet medicine it was. He nuzzled and
sucked at her opulent tit-flesh as she worked her magic on his
aching loins till all the aches and pains of his long wait were
soothed away. And then, more urgently and with tantalising skill,
she began to rekindle his desires.

She leaned
sideways away from him, still holding his cock captive in the
skilful mouth between her thighs. Her hand was now at the junction
of their bodies, palming his balls, fluttering along his shaft to
the point where their hair meshed, fingering him like a clever
flute-player in a teasing tuneful fashion that set his pulses
racing and his member thrusting urgently into her sweet crack.

'You are a
sexy witch,' he breathed into her face, fondling and pulling her
big lolling tits, thumbing the pebble-hard nipples, sucking on her
pouting lower lip.

'I've got to
live up to my reputation,' she responded, continuing her
titillating ministrations. 'You poor boy, you're so stiff, so hard,
you must have had a terrible time listening to me and Pandy. I hope
this makes up for it just a little. Your balls are so big,' she
said, cupping and jiggling them. 'I bet you're just loaded with
spunk for me. Why don't you let me have it? I can take all you've
got. Don't wait for me. Come on, shoot it up me! Up my cunt! Fill
me up with spunk!'

'Oh Tracy, I—'
Not surprisingly Billy was not capable of withstanding this kind of
treatment and he thundered into her in a rutting fury as his cock
fountained his pent-up lust deep within her irresistible body.

'God, Tracy,'
he panted as he lay on his back, recovering his breath, 'that was
probably the most wonderful fuck I've ever had.'

'Until the
next time,' she replied.

'No, I mean
it. I think you're incredible.'

'So what are
you going to do about it then?' she asked. 'I mean, weren't you
going to turn me into a film star or something? Wasn't there a
phone call you were going to make?'

'Oh yes,' said
Billy, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. 'Unfortunately I
don't think I can get hold of him right now, it's too late. I've
got a meeting first thing in the morning and I'll fix something up
then. I promise.'

He smiled at
her happily, his kinks now cheerfully smoothed out. 'So what's with
Pandy, Tracy? Leaving the sex out of it, she doesn't seem your
type.'

'I suppose not. She's got more brains than all my family put
together. A lot less commonsense, mind you. She interviewed me
for
The Rag
, it's a
feminist mag she edits on the side. She says it gives her a break
from the sexist trash she has to write in the
Blizzard
.'

'What does she do for the
Blizzard
?'

'Women's page
stuff, price of nannies, all that sort of thing. Only now she's got
a big assignment, that's why she was in such a flap. She's holed up
with some gangster's moll doing her story - Danny Fretwork's
wife.'

'Christ!'

'What's
up?'

'Nothing. Go
on, tell me why you've got your paws in each other's knickers.'

'God, you're
crude. That's one of the reasons why I like Pandy. She values me as
a woman. She encourages my artistic aspirations. As far as she's
concerned I'm not just a pair of tits.'

'Well, I value
you as a woman too, Tracy. You're a caring, nurturing sort, I can
tell. Frankly, I value women like you much higher than any man I
know.'

'Come off it,
you're a sexist pig like all the rest. You're quite cute
though.'

'That's just
as well because I don't think I can leave just yet. My clothes are
still soaking wet.'

'Oh dear,' she
said.

'In the
circumstances I hope it won't be an inconvenience to you if I
stayed here for a bit. Maybe we could order something from room
service to keep us going.'

'Keep us going
for what?' she asked suspiciously, her eyes widening as she glanced
down his body to where his red and glistening tool stretched in
sticky splendour across his belly.

'Well, Tracy,
there are one or two things we haven't yet got round to. Don't get
me wrong but I'd hate to be the only guy you've slept with who
hasn't had the pleasure of fucking your magnificent tits.'

'Oh no.
Honestly, Billy, I don't think I'm up to it.' But she couldn't
disguise the grin that was already spreading across her pretty
face.

'I might have
known,' she said as he straddled her torso and laid his stiff and
gleaming tool along the creamy ravine between the sumptuous hills
of her marvellous breasts. 'I suppose you expect me to hold my tits
around your cock while you jerk off over me.'

And she did
just that, hefting a big boob in each hand and folding the soft
mass of tit over his rigid member.

'Oh God, Tracy,' moaned Billy as he began to pump his cock in
and out of the valley of flesh, 'that's
fantastic!
'

'It should
be,' she muttered, bestowing long licks on the top of his helmet on
each up-thrust, 'how else do you think I became a star? Now, hurry
up and cream my tits!'

Two - Bonking
USA

Billy
presented himself in Reception at Almond Artistes shortly after the
opening of business the next morning and was admitted to Imogen's
office at once.

She looked him
over with a sly smile on her face. He knew he looked a sight. The
once-impeccable suit was crumpled and still damp, his hair was a
tangled mess and a bite mark showed clearly beneath his left ear.
Nevertheless success shone from his unshaven features.

'Been on the
razzle, Mr Dazzle?' said Imogen slyly. 'I presume it's mission
accomplished.'

'And a tough
one it was too,' said Billy. 'I can't tell you precisely what I've
been through.'

'I wouldn't
want to know. So, what's the story? Has Tracy got another
manager?'

'No, but she's
got a new friend. A close one. A feminist journalist called Pandora
Britches has been telling her that displaying her breasts to the
nation is not the best use of her talents. So now she wants to be
taken seriously as an artist. There's an obvious solution to this,'
added Billy, 'give her a spot in your charity gala for dead cats,
or whatever it is, and she'll be sweetness and light once
more.'

'Oh hell.'
Imogen's face lengthened.

'What's the
problem? Surely that's easy. You are arranging the event, aren't
you?'

'Well, yes and
no. I can't have a page-three pin-up on the same bill as Melissa
Melone and Sebastian Silk.'

'Why not? It's
all in a good cause, surely? Can't she just jiggle around to her
new record? I guarantee she'll impress all the gents.'

'I can see
that she's impressed you but we can't have her doing that sort of
act in front of the great and the good - it's meant to be a
cultural occasion and not a live sex show. Though I suppose it
might loosen up a few starched shirts to have her flaunt herself in
public. The tabloids would go for it.'

'There you are
then,' said Billy.

'Not quite. I
don't have the last word on who performs. Have you heard of Candida
Kensington?'

'The rag-trade
heiress?'

'She's the
real inspiration behind this gala. Poor Pussy Rescue is her new
thing.'

'What's
that?'

'It's in aid
of abandoned cats, it aims to fund luxury catteries and sponsor
kitten adoption. It provides grants to have catflaps fitted, buy
rubber mice and calves' liver for neglected moggies. It's a very
fashionable cause right now.'

'Never heard
of it.'

'You obviously don't live in the real world, Billy. Anyway,
this is her do and she asked me to recommend likely performers.
Naturally, many of my people were delighted to take part,
particularly since it is bound to be one of the big events of the
summer season. It is going to be prestigious. Sebastian Silk has
composed a special suite of songs in honour of the occasion and
they will be premiered by Melissa Melone, the world's leading
soprano, whom I recently had the honour of adding to my client
roster. There's also the Marian Mucus
corps
de ballet
and many other distinguished
performers from the quality spectrum of the arts.'

'What about
Brick Tempo?'

'Yes, he's
also appearing. Brick is one of the most brilliant live acts to
have survived since the sixties.'

'He's also a
dope-head and a sex-fiend. I wouldn't have thought he'd fit the
image.'

'You'd be
surprised at the appeal of the artist who is a reformed rebel.
Though I must admit you've put your finger on one of my main
anxieties. Katie was right about you.'

'I'm
sorry?'

'She said that
you were not just a pretty face.'

'Really? That
tight-arsed Katie Crisp said that about me?'

'She obviously
hadn't seen you after a night on the tiles with Tracy Pert. You're
a complete mess, you know.'

'Sorry. I
thought you'd like my findings as soon as possible. Now I'm on my
way home to clean up.' And crash out for twenty-four hours, he
thought to himself. Delightful though it had been, the encounter
with Tracy had knocked nearly all the stuffing out of him. On
reflection, forty-eight hours should do the trick.

'So, Billy,'
Imogen was saying, 'assuming I agree to include Tracy - and if it
would solve my problem I must confess I'm all in favour - it's now
a question of persuading Candida Kensington, who is one of the
biggest snobs I have ever encountered. It's worth a try but you'll
have to help me out.'

She picked up
the phone and tapped out a number. Before Billy had time to draw
breath she was speaking. 'Candy, darling, how are you?'

The response
was fulsome and as she listened, making the odd sympathetic murmur
in her turn, she motioned Billy to take a seat. Finally she spoke
again. 'Candy I've met the most wonderful young man and you simply
must see him as soon as possible. He's wild about Poor Pussy Rescue
and is burning to make a contribution. I think he's just what
you've been looking for.'

She paused to
listen to the other's response, then her face crinkled into a smile
and she made an elegant thumbs-up gesture at Billy as she said,
'Why, that's marvellous. He's called Billy Dazzle and he has the
most fabulous baby-blues. Your search is over.'

Imogen
replaced the phone, a triumphant gleam in her eye. 'There we are,
that's fixed. She'll give you lunch today, just the two of you. Why
don't you try and work some of that famous Dazzle magic on
her?'

'But Imogen—'
Billy was flabbergasted by this sudden turn of events '—couldn't
this wait for another day? I'm not at my best just now, I need to
go home and—'

'Don't worry,
Billy, I have every confidence in you. Go and see Katie, she's next
door. She'll straighten you out and give you Candy's address.'

Billy stared
at her blankly, unsure whether to protest further. And what did she
mean about a search being over?

Imogen fixed
him with a steely glare. 'You're not going to let me down are you,
Billy? I'd be most disappointed to discover that you were
overrated.'

Katie Crisp
took one look at Billy and pulled a disdainful face. Without
pausing to wish him good morning she ordered him into a lift and
they ascended to the top of the building in a frosty silence.

Upstairs there
was no evidence of the business of Almond Artistes. Here were
expensive service flats and Katie led Billy down a richly carpeted
hallway, through a sumptuously decorated bedroom and into a large
bathroom. She turned on the bath taps and squirted some luxurious
bath oil into the water.

'Take your
clothes off,' she barked.

Billy stood
rooted to the spot.

'Hurry up,'
she said in her best schoolmarm voice, 'we've not got much
time.'

Billy took off
his jacket - what else could he do? 'You'll find everything here
you need to turn yourself into a respectable human being, if that's
possible. There's shaving gear and deodorant in the cabinet.'

'Look,' Billy
said as he perched on the loo seat and slowly began to pick at his
shoelaces, 'there's something I forgot to say to Imogen. I've got
to phone Tracy about Orlando Verdi. She thinks she's going to star
in an art movie.'

'I'll mention
it to Imogen,' said Katie, now on the floor at his feet impatiently
tugging at his shoes and socks, 'but first I've got to get you
looking presentable, so hurry up.'

Billy got to
his feet and undid his trousers. He had no intrinsic objection to
undressing in front of La Crisp - especially if the arrangement
were reciprocal. Alas, the current circumstances were rather akin
to a small boy dropping his pyjamas in front of matron. He stepped
out of the garment and stood before her clad only in his thin
cotton briefs. Katie, still on her knees, unceremoniously yanked
them down to his ankles. 'For God's sake!' yelled Billy in
outrage.

'We have to
clean your underwear as well, you fool,' she replied but she was
staring intently straight at Billy's dangling genitals. For once
Billy's cock was shy and retiring under the spotlight of feminine
curiosity. But as Katie continued to scrutinise him he felt blood
begin to flow in a familiar fashion. Sure enough, his tool was
thickening, rising to the challenge of her gaze like an old
warhorse answering the call to battle. Eventually it stuck, halfway
to full erection, and waved in her face like an obscene carrot.