Lust Quest (7 page)

“
You
?” he echoed. “
You
wouldn’t fall in love?”

“I mean, Crystal,” I grinned sheepishly. “She wouldn't fall in love.”

“Sounds like you're going through an identity crisis.”

“As I said, I become engrossed in my work.”

“To the point where you actually become the character?”

“No, no. I ... I'm my own person, Alan. Crystal is a fictitious character in my book, nothing more.”

“Who are we, really? What are we? Perhaps we're all figments of our imaginations.”

“How do you mean?”

“Perhaps we act out our fantasies to the point where we become fantasy characters. As they say, you are what you think you are.”

“What do you think you are?”

“Lost, I suppose. I drift around wasting my time with this and that while life passes me by.”

“Like a ship. What about your music?”

“I suppose my music has shaped me. I try to come across as a Bohemian, but it's not the real me. I have no idea what the real me is. The inner man, and all that.

Who are you?”

“I'm ... I'm just plain and simple old me. Have your coffee before it gets cold.”

57

Alan's philosophical ramblings made me feel uncomfortable. The real me? I didn't want to know what lurked within the depths of my subconscious. But I did want to be like Crystal. She was fast becoming a role model, someone to look up to and admire. She had a streak of Bohemian in her. She was a mysterious woman of great depth. A complex character, she was looking for something that probably didn't exist.

What was I looking for?

“Let's talk about you,” Alan said, sipping his coffee. “What are you like?”

“Terrible,” I laughed. “I've had too much sex with too many men, I drink too much ...” Hesitating, I wondered whether it was Crystal or me talking. “I'll try anything once and, if I like it, I'll try it again and again.”

“Did you like last night?”

“Last night has gone. Like a page of a book, turned over and ...”

“Gone but not forgotten. Did you like it?”

“I ... Yes, I did.”

“You can always turn back to that page.”

This was my chance to play the role of Crystal, I mused. And the chance to experience sexual acts I'd never even dreamed of. Alan had the equipment and I was hungry to learn. No one would ever know what I'd got up to in the privacy of my flat, I tried to console myself. No matter what I did, it would be my secret. I wouldn't even tell Jackie. I could fuck, have Alan lick and finger my bottom-hole, sperm over my breasts and ... and when Crystal had finished with him, she'd spit him out.

58

“I want you,” I said huskily, standing before him. “Unveil my body.” As he tugged my skirt down, I felt as if I was dreaming. The room spinning, my mind out of control, I allowed him to slip my panties down my thighs and gaze at the most intimate part of my young body. I didn't know what I was doing. I wanted to experience cold sex, crude sex, raw sex, but ... but what? Were the confines and restrictions of society goading me to conform? Was Crystal trying to rule my head?

Feeling Alan's hot breath on the fleshy pads of my vaginal lips, I shuddered as his tongue delved into my sex crack and tasted me there. My clitoris swelling, my arousal soaring out of control, I breathed deeply as he licked the full length of my valley of lust. Valley of lust? I'd been reading too much of that dirty book. Was it dirty? No, I concluded as Alan teased my clitoris with his wet tongue and sucked it into his hot mouth. It was heavenly.

“God, no,” I breathed as my orgasm stirred deep within the very core of my being. My legs trembling, my heart racing, I parted my feet wide as he expertly sucked and licked my swollen clitoris until the explosion of orgasm ripped through my defenceless body. Never had I known such incredible sensations as I clung to his head and shook violently. Never had an orgasm immersed me so deep into the sea of sexual satisfaction. Again and again my clitoris pulsated, transmitting tremors of sheer lust through my young body. Alan's fingers entering the tight shaft of my pussy sending me into raptures of pure sexual elation, my juices of lust squelching, a feeling of pure decadence gripped me. I was pornographic. Life was pornographic.

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“Fuck me,” I gasped as he thrust his fingers in and out of my tightening pussy.

“For God's sake, fuck my cunt.” My orgasm receding as he slipped his fingers out of my drenched pussy, I lay on the floor and slipped my panties over my ankles. The power of lust had overwhelmed me, I knew as he positioned himself between my parted legs and pulled his penis out. His knob pressing against the dripping folds of my inner lips, I let out a rush of breath as his male length thrust deep into my tightening vagina. Rocking his hips, his solid knob battering my cervix, he gasped and grunted in his fucking as I cried out in my ecstasy.

“Fuck me harder!” I screamed, my body jolting with the forceful pistoning of his rock-hard cock. His balls slapping my firm buttocks, I listened to the beautiful sound of my vaginal juices squelching as my pussy tightened around his shaft, lovingly hugging his solid organ. I was Crystal, I mused, my clitoris swelling against the pistoning shaft of his magnificent cock. I was Crystal in all her sensuality, her depravity, her feminine glory. “Come inside me,” I murmured, desperate for the feel of sperm gushing into my cunt, bathing my cervix. Cunt. It had been over a year since I'd been fucked and spunked, I reflected. And I was desperate to hear the heavy breathing of a man fucking my cunt and spunking up me.

“Yes,” he breathed, his sperm finally shooting from his knob and filling my cunt. “God, you're beautiful.”

“Call me Crystal,” I gasped in my sexual delirium. “Tell Crystal that you're fucking her cunt.”

“I'm fucking your cunt, Crystal,” he murmured, obviously perplexed by my request. “Coming in your beautiful cunt, Crystal.”

60

My second climax finally erupting within my ballooning clitoris, my juices of arousal gushing from the bloated opening to my cunt and wetting my inner thighs, I rolled my head from side to side as Alan fucked me senseless. On and on he fucked my quivering body, his sperm filling my cunt, his knob pummelling my ripe cervix until he finally collapsed in a trembling heap on top of me. The smell of sex filling my nostrils, the burning shaft of my cunt gripping his deflating cock, I swam in a warm pool of self-satisfaction. I'd done it, I reflected through the sexual haze of my mind.

I'd been fucked and spermed. Crystal had been fucked.

“You're something else,” Alan breathed as he raised himself on his arms, his cock sliding out of the spermed sheath of my tight cunt.

“You weren't too bad,” I murmured dismissively. Was I being cruel?

“Was I too quick for you?”

“I'm used to men lasting at least... No, you were OK.”

“Why did you want me to call you Crystal?” he asked, zipping his trousers as I clambered to my feet.

“Why not?” I grinned. The time had come to spit him out. “You'd better go now.”

“Go?”

“I have things to do, Alan.” Why was I being so cold and cruel?

“Oh, OK. Will you be in the pub this evening?”

“I don't know what I'm doing yet. I might be. There again, I might not.”

“Perhaps I'll call round again tomorrow,” he said, hope mirrored in his dark eyes as he moved towards the door.

61

“Whatever,” I smiled, grabbing my panties from the floor. “I might not be in tomorrow. And if I am, I might be busy.”

As he left, I flopped onto the sofa and hung my head. I'd behaved like a common slut and then treated him abominably. He was a nice person, and I'd been cold, cruel and heartless. I'd also acted completely out of character. Clutching my panties, I began to wonder whether I was losing my mind. Crystal was a fictional character, I reminded myself. She wasn't a reflection of my inner self, she didn't exist.

She was nothing more than words. Nothing more than a figment of my pornographic imagination.

“Yes?” I snapped, grabbing the ringing phone.

“Hi, it's me,” Alan the ex said.

“And?”

“I ... I thought I might come round.”

“Again?”

“Are you all right, Jade? You sound odd.”

“I'm fine, Alan. What do you want?”

“As I said ...”

“OK, come round - if you have to.”

Slamming the phone down, I reclined on the sofa and grinned. Another conquest, another plaything, I mused. But why was I doing this? Reading a dirty book hadn't turned me into a wanton tart. And writing my own mild erotica certainly hadn't affected me. I desperately wanted to be like Crystal, I concluded. Having led a 62

sheltered life, experiencing boring straight sex with my one and only boyfriend, I wanted to live like Crystal. But Crystal wasn't real. She was a fantasy, a dream. I recalled leaving a cinema and wanting to be like the heroine of the film. I'd tied to act like her, tried to become her. I wanted to be like Crystal.

Waiting for Alan to arrive, I paced the lounge floor. I felt as if something deep within me had been woken. Prince Charming had kissed Sleeping Beauty, and given her life. Alan the musician had fucked me, and given me life. And now Alan the ex was coming round again to ... to what? Fuck me? Was Jackie planning to give me life?

63

he doorbell finally ringing, I raced through the hall, realizing that I was still T clutching my wet panties. Did Crystal wear panties? Wondering whether to send Alan the ex packing, I pondered on ringing Jackie and inviting her round to play with his dick. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea, I giggled inwardly, opening the door to Alan the ex. Alan the bastard.

“Oh, it's you,” I breathed dismissively, tossing my panties beneath the hall table.

“You don't seem very pleased to see me,” he murmured dejectedly, following me into the lounge.

“Why should I be pleased to see you, Alan? I saw you this morning, and now you're here again.” I didn't mean to be rude to him. There again, perhaps I did.

“I don't know. I just thought that, after ...”

“What is it you want from me?”

“Want? I don't want anything.”

“I thought you might want coffee or another blowjob.”

“Well, I suppose ...”

“I'll fill the kettle,” I sighed, leaving the room.

I don't know what it was that bugged me about Alan. I didn't want revenge. If anything, I was pleased to be rid of him. Had we still been together, he'd have been trying to force his cock into my mouth and I'd be shunning his advances. I didn't know what it was about myself. Something was getting to me, I knew. Something was 64

bugging me. Perhaps it was that I'd wanted to have my romantic novel published and was now being forced to write erotic fiction. Forced? I was becoming desperate for money so, in effect, I
was
being forced. I was prostituting myself.

Taking the coffee to the lounge, a blend of sperm and vaginal juice running down my inner thighs, I gazed at Alan the ex. Had he come round for another blowjob? More than likely. He’d come to visit the pornographess in the hope that she’s suck him off and swallow his spunk. Feeling decadent, a wicked plan coming to mind, I sat on the sofa and began talking about sex. Sex with Alan the musician, how he fucked me senseless, how made me come again and again.

“I don't really want to know, Jade,” he finally sighed, plonking himself in the armchair.

“Sorry, I was forgetting that you don't have a sex life at the moment.”

“It's not that.”

“Now that Angela’s thrown you out, you don't have a tight, juicy cunt to fuck and spunk.”

“What?” he gasped, his face grimacing.

“I didn't mean to say that,” I murmured, wondering where the crude words had come from.

“God, you've changed.”

“We're all changing, Alan. Changes bring about changes. So, you were saying?”

65

“I don't want to know what you and your boyfriend do in bed. You're so different, Jade. You're not the girl I once knew. What's happened to change you so much?”

“You leaving me, that's what changed me. That's when I began to live.” Or had I died?

“I wasn't that bad, was I?”

“You seemed to think that you owned me. You were possessive and became insanely jealous if I chatted to other men. I felt restricted, suppressed, suffocated. If I went anywhere without you, you questioned me, gave me the third degree. Look at that hen night I went to. Who did you meet? Who were you talking to? How long were you there? Was there a male stripper? Did you talk to any men? Did you go straight home afterwards? It nearly drove me mad. I was sad when you left me, but also relieved. I wasn't going to tell you this but, you said that I was no good in bed and complained because I never sucked you off.”

“I didn't mean ...”

“Yes you fucking did, Alan.”

“OK, OK. There's no need to get riled about it.”

“Your obsession, your jealousy and continual suspicion and questioning ...

That's what drove me to ... Shall I tell you what it drove me to?” I didn't know what I was saying. “I didn't want your cock in my mouth because, towards the end of our farcical relationship, I was sucking someone else off.”

“
What
? You were cheating on me?”

“You were screwing Angela, so don't come the fucking moralist with me.”

“Who was he? Anyone I know?”

66

“You didn't know him. We were at school together. We used to play about in a haystack down on Turner's Farm. I bumped into him about three months before you left me. And we fucked and sucked and licked each other.”

“Christ. And I thought ... I don't know what I thought. Or what to think now.”

“I'll tell you what I think ...” I began as the phone rang. “Wait there.”

Grabbing the phone in the kitchen, I was pleased to hear Jackie's voice. I hadn't told her about Alan the ex and decided to update her. She went very quiet when I said that he'd been to see me that morning and had turned up yet again. Thinking that she was worried that I might take him back, which would spoil her plans for a threesome with musician Alan, I asked her what the problem was.