Lust Quest (16 page)

Taking a seat, I wondered how Jackie was getting on at the orgy. Perhaps I should have gone, I ruminated, wondering what I was doing in a pub with an underage boy as he brought the drinks over. Orgy? No, it was best that I kept away from such things. I was becoming bad enough as it was without taking part in orgies.

“You're OK,” the lad smiled as he sat beside me.

“Oh, thanks,” I replied with a chuckle. “I'm Jade, by the way.”

“My friends call me Mog. Don't ask why.”

“I won't. But I will ask how old you are.”

“Almost old enough to drink this,” he grinned, taking a gulp from his pint.

“And you?”

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“You're not supposed to ask a girl her age,” I giggled.

“Why not? I reckon you're ... I'll go for nineteen.”

“That'll do. How old is your girlfriend?”

“Libby? She's fifteen.”

“Is that all?”

“Yeah. Too young really, but there we are. I'd be better off with a girl like you. Where do you work?”

“I ... Oh, there's my friend.” I waved at Alan who held his guitar up and grinned. No doubt he was wondering what I was doing with a young lad. It might be an idea to say that he was my brother. “So, your girlfriend's only fifteen?” I said, turning and facing Mog.

“That's right. She's still at school, of course.”

Better off with a girl like me? I pondered as he talked about his girlfriend. I wasn't a cradle-snatcher, but he was rather good looking. No, I daren't get involved with a young lad. I was having trouble enough with men in their twenties, and women. Wondering why he was called Mog, I found myself gazing at the crotch of his tight jeans as he drank his beer. So young and fresh and ... No, I mustn't.

My hand seemingly moving of its own accord and settling on his thigh, I wondered what the hell I was playing at. He reacted immediately by placing his hand on my inner thigh and running his fingers up my short skirt to my tight panties. Talk about a fast mover, I thought anxiously. But I'd instigated the physical contact. As he pressed his fingers into the warm swell of my panties, I looked around to see whether 144

anyone was watching. The illicit act taking place beneath the table, we were safe enough. But I couldn't allow him to go any further.

“Mog,” I whispered urgently, again wondering at his strange name as he massaged my vulval cushions through my wetting panties. “Mog, don't.” Ignoring me, he pulled the crotch of my panties aside and slipped his fingers into the wet valley of my yearning pussy. Trying to push him away without attracting attention, I gasped as he drove a finger between the wet petals of my inner lips and thrust deep into my tightening vagina. “Mog, no,” I breathed, involuntarily parting my thighs to give him better access to my spasming sex sheath.

My hands trembling as he massaged the velveteen walls of my drenched cunt, I felt my clitoris swell and pulsate. What the hell was I doing sitting in a pub with a stranger's finger up my cunt? Not only a stranger, but a young lad. Despite his youth, he knew exactly what he was doing. Slipping his wet finger out of my hot sex sheath, he moved up the engorged valley of my vagina and gently massaged my ripe clitoris. I couldn't allow myself to come, I thought, breathing deeply as I quivered and writhed in my rising ecstasy.

“No, Mog,” I breathed, grabbing his arm in an effort to stop him. Saying nothing, he glanced around the pub as he continued to masturbate me. I looked at the stage to see Alan setting up his equipment. People were too busy drinking and chatting to notice our intimate game in the shadowy corner. I again made a perfunctory move to halt Mog, but had succumbed to my arousal. My clitoris pulsating, I knew that I was going to come and prayed that I'd not cry out.

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“You've got a nice cunt,” Mog breathed in my ear as I shook uncontrollably.

His crude words driving me wild, my body becoming rigid, I lowered my head and bit my lip as my clitoris exploded in orgasm. Gasping, stifling my moans of illicit pleasure as he expertly sustained my mind-blowing climax, I clutched his thigh. On and on my orgasm rolled, my juices of lust gushing from my neglected cunt and soaking my panties. Praying for my pleasure to subside, my whimpers growing louder, I parted my thighs and tossed my head back.

His fingertip deftly encircling my pulsating sex bud, my skirt almost up over my stomach, I grimaced as my orgasm peaked. My womb rhythmically contracting, my clitoris pulsating wildly, I prayed that no one was watching as I slipped into a state of semiconsciousness. Again, I drifted in swirling clouds of pastel colours, the voices and laughter in the pub fading into the distance as my mind flew away. On and on I rode the crown of my orgasm, the beautiful sensations rocking my very being, shaking my soul.

“Are you OK?” a distant voice finally asked. Slowly opening my eyes, the sounds of the pub growing louder, I looked about me as Mog pulled my skirt down to conceal my drenched panties. “Hey, you all right?”

“Yes, yes,” I gasped, shuddering my last shudder as my clitoris pulsated in its deflating. “You shouldn't have done that,” I admonished him, my face burning as I grabbed my drink.

“Didn't you like it?” he smiled.

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“Of course I bloody well liked it,” I whispered. “But not in a pub surrounded by people.”

“The danger of getting caught makes it more exciting,” he said as I gulped down my drink.

“You might think so, but I don't.”

My body finally calm, I brushed my long blonde away from my flushed face as I reclined in the chair. My panties had slipped into my sex crack, my juices flowing from my burning pussy and soaking into the material. My arousal high, my womb fluttering, I needed another drink, I knew as Mog finished his beer. But I wasn't going to get wrecked on vodka and invite him back for coffee. Would Alan expect to come back to my flat for a blowjob? I'd have to leave the pub before he’d finished playing, I decided as Mog placed his hand on my naked thigh.

Groping for his zip as he massaged my drenched outer lips, I managed to pull his erect penis out. His shaft felt warm, granite-hard, and I again wondered how old he was. Old enough, I decided, moving his foreskin up and down over the globe of his youthful cock. He gasped and closed his eyes as I wanked him faster.
Payback time
, I thought wickedly as the band started playing. All eyes focused on Alan as his guitar wailed, I looked down at Mog's erect penis. He was a big lad, I observed, pondering on slipping beneath the table and sucking his glans into my sperm-thirsty mouth.

Groaning as if in pain, he trembled uncontrollably as he pumped out his sperm. I could feel the tepid liquid running over my fingers and down my hand as I continued to wank his beautiful cock. His orgasm seemingly never-ending, his sperm 147

gushing in torrents from his young knob, I had it in mind to take him home with me and initiate him in the fine art of clit sucking. No doubt he'd already experienced oral sex, I mused, his body shuddering wildly as the last of his spunk jetted from his purple glans and ran over my hand.

“Bloody hell,” he breathed as I released his deflating cock. “You're OK.”

“Why, thank you,” I smiled, lapping up the white liquid from my hand as he watched in disbelief. He must have thought me a whore. I
was
a whore.

“I'd better go and sort myself out.” Zipping his jeans and standing up, he grinned at me. “Don't go away,” he said. “I like you. You’re a cool bird.”

“A cool bird?” I frowned. “Will you be in the park tomorrow?”

“I can be. Will you be there?”

“Yes. About eight?”

“OK. Hang on, I'll be back in a minute.”

As he walked through the crowd, I made my way to the door. Guilt consuming me, I left the pub and hurried down the road. I shouldn't have allowed him to slip his hand up my skirt. And I should never have wanked him. Cutting through the park, I pondered on Jackie and her orgy. What were things coming to? I wondered. Jackie at an orgy, me picking up a young lad in the park and ... I was definitely going to return to normality, I decided. I'd go home to bed and start afresh in the morning.

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he phone was ringing when I woke at nine the following morning. Pulling the T quilt over my head, I guessed that it would be Jackie wanting to know why I'd not gone to the orgy. I couldn't talk to her, not until I'd fully woken. I couldn't face listening to the sordid details of her sex session with three men and another girl. Had the men all entered her orifices at once? I pondered. One in her pussy, another up her bum and the third fucking her mouth?

Memories of Mog filtering into my mind, I slipped my hand between the welcoming heat of my thighs. My outer lips sticky and swollen, my sex crack drenched with my juices of desire, I wished I'd brought him home and ... What the hell was I thinking? I wondered. I had to forget about crude sex. Crystal Marshall haunting me, Jackie inviting me to a sordid orgy, wanking a young lad in the pub ...

“A fresh start,” I breathed, slipping out of bed and heading for the shower. I'd made my decision and was determined to stick to it. Jackie might be happy with her life of debauched sex, but that wasn't the way I wanted to go. I'd originally thought that I'd meet a decent man one day and settle down. Not launch myself into one crude sexual encounter after another in the name of cold lust.

After my shower, I had poached eggs on toast for breakfast and took a cup of coffee into my den. I didn't want to get the dirty book up on screen and decided to go through my romantic novel. I was backtracking, I knew, but wasn't going to throw away three year's hard work. Reading through the book, I laughed when I reached the 149

end of chapter two. Elizabeth, the heroine, slipped into the bedroom with her husband-to-be and closed the door. In comparison with Crystal's sordid exploits, Elizabeth led a totally sheltered life and was virtually asexual. Was that the real me? I wondered.

“Jade, it's David,” the familiar voice announced as I answered the phone at midday. “I've been reading the manuscript. It arrived this morning.”

“That was quick,” I said. “I only posted it ...”

“You've done it, Jade,” he said enthusiastically. “You've hit the nail right on the bloody head.”

“You like it?” I asked surprisedly.

“Like it? It's fucking brilliant. The sex is ... is just incredible. Where the hell did you get your ideas from?”

“Er ... My imagination, I suppose.”

“Chapter six is ... It's amazing stuff. When can you finish the book?”

“Well, I don't know.”

“I'm showing it to a publisher this afternoon. They'll take it, I have no doubt about that.”

“That's

good.”

“You don't sound very excited.”

“I am. I'm a little surprised, that's all.”

“OK, you get writing and I'll be in touch. We'll talk about money and get the contract drawn up. Speak to you soon.”

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So much for making a fresh start, I mused, bringing the dirty book up on the screen. Was writing smut my forte? At least I'd earn some money, I reflected, wondering why I'd not asked David how much he thought I'd get. The way my finances were going, every penny I earned would help. I had to work hard now, I knew. The romantic novel would have to be shelved for a while. Trying to forget about Mog and the dreadful act I'd committed in the pub, I got stuck into the book and managed to get in a good day's work.

Jackie rang and complained that I'd neither turned up at her so-called party nor bothered to answer the phone and informed me that I'd missed a really good night.

She was keen to call in and see me and, as I'd got on pretty well with the book, I agreed. I was determined not to fall prey to her lesbian charms and end up having sex with her. As much as I wanted to slip my tongue into her hot vagina, I had to stop thinking about lesbian sex. It was wrong, I knew only too well. What I'd done in the pub had also been wrong, but I'd at least been with a male. Was I trying to justify the fact that I'd behaved like a wanton tart?

When I answered the door to find Mog standing on the step, I almost had a heart attack. This was all I needed, I thought anxiously, wondering how on earth he'd found out where I lived. Had he got chatting to Alan before leaving the pub? No, Alan wouldn't have given him my address. So how the hell had he traced me? More to the point, what did he want? And this was supposed to be a fresh start?

“What are you doing here?” I breathed, looking up and down the street, although I didn't know what I was looking for.

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“I've come to see you,” he said as a matter of fact.

“How did you know where ...”

“I saw you leaving the pub last night and decided to follow you. I was about to go into the loo and happened to see you leaving. I thought you might not want to see me again.”

“Mog, I ... You'd better come in for a minute.”

Taking him into the lounge, I prayed that Jackie wouldn't turn up and get the wrong idea. I should say, the right idea. I was pretty annoyed to think that he'd followed me to my flat, but I had walked out on him which was extremely rude of me.

He was dressed in tight blue jeans and a white T-shirt, and looked even younger than before. My insatiable clitoris swelling, my mind torn, I didn't know what to do. Again telling myself that I was starting afresh, I tried desperately to push all thoughts of sex from my mind.

“I told you I'd meet you in the park,” I said firmly.

“Yes, but when I saw you leaving the pub ... You could have at least said goodbye. After what we did, the least you could have done was tell me that you were leaving.”

“I know. I'm sorry, it's just that ...” Looking him up and down, I frowned.

“How old are you, Mog?”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters to me. I'm twenty-one, and I can't ...”

“OK, I'm eighteen.”