Lust on the Loose

by Noel Amos

  'Fantastic!' she replied, tugging off her panties to reveal a veritable forest of wild and tangled pubic hair. 'Down into the jungle, young man, and don't bother coming up for air!'

  The French actress Monique Aragon insisted on sucking his penis till the spunk frothed on her bee-sting lips. 'It eez my specialitay. Ozzerwize I don' write no cheque. OK?'

  Grace Garter, the schlock novelist, and her agent, Marilyn Savage, came in together.

  'Be gentle with me!' pleaded an exhausted Billy.

  'You must be joking!' said Grace as she settled her big soft buttocks squarely on Billy's face. 'Gentleness would ruin Marilyn's reputation, wouldn't it, darling?'

  'You bet,' replied the piranha of the literary world as she snapped her sharp white teeth over the head of Billy's valiant tool.

  His howl of anguish was muffled by a mouthful of hairy quim.

  'Billy - Billy! Are you OK?'

  A familiar voice was calling from afar and firm hands were shaking him by the shoulders. Billy's eyes opened reluctantly. Candy Kensington's big brown orbs were staring directly into his. Concern was writ large on her lovely face.

  'Candy, I'm sorry. I don't think I can manage any more.'

  She laughed. 'Don't worry, Billy, the show's over. You've done your bit. In fact, you saved the day.'

  'Thanks.' He sat up wearily and took in the fact that Candy was as naked as he was. 'What's been going on? I hope you haven't been molesting Brick again.'

  'Fat chance. I had to go to work just like you. Bianca Fleece is a hardcore lesbian and there were two others who swing both ways. I wasn't letting any of them out till they had paid their dues.'

  'And what was that, exactly? I'd love to know your rate per minute.'

  'Well, you shan't. But you can call me the best little fund-raiser in London. Now, shall we go and see if our honoured guest is still alive?'

  Brick was more than just alive, he was bubbling with good humour.

  'Hey, man, what a trip!' he cried, punching Billy on the arm. 'That's the most fantastic afternoon I ever spent in my life. You are a genius!'

  Billy smiled modestly and Candy announced that her chauffeur was standing by to drive them both back. She'd take them herself if she wasn't so (yawn) utterly exhausted she could hardly stand. Billy sympathised but he thought he detected a hint of disappointment in Brick's eyes as he eyed Candy's carelessly buttoned blouse and its generous display of shadowy cleavage.

  'There's just one more thing,' said Candy and she swivelled her eyes meaningfully along the hallway.

  Billy turned to see, smiling at him in a predatory fashion, the statuesque figure of Joanna Knickerbocker. His heart sank.

  'Oh God,' he muttered.

  'They wouldn't leave. They said they were waiting for you.'

  'Yoohoo, Brick!' called Joanna. Billy squared his shoulders and stepped forward, it would be better to fob them off straight away with sincere apologies.

  At that moment Nicole Knickerbocker stepped from behind her mother and shamelessly lifted her T-shirt up to her chin, baring her chest for all to see. Her huge pert breasts, pink bulging rounds of taut youthful flesh, wobbled hypnotically before their eyes. The words of excuse died in Billy's throat and from behind him he heard a gasp of indrawn breath.

  Suddenly a broad figure strode past him, arms outstretched in welcome, as Brick bore down on mother and daughter.

  'Hello, ladies,' he cried, 'I wondered where they'd been hiding all the pretty women! How'd you all like to come back to my apartment for tea?'

  The Knickerbockers squealed acceptance with one voice.

  'Once more unto the breach then, Billy,' said Candy with a sly smile on her face. 'I'm sure you can rise to the occasion.'

  Chapter 49

  It was mid-afternoon when Betsy received her next unlikely visitor. Her mind had been taken off the matter by the arrival of Arnold with an armful of roses. She had entertained him in the customary way and consequently now walked rather gingerly to the door with just a flimsy wrap thrown over her aching charms. Arnold was a bruising lover. His compulsive talk of marriage was flattering but daunting. She wasn't sure if she was robust enough to withstand his romancing for any length of time.

  These were the thoughts buzzing through her head as she opened the door to a pretty dark-haired girl in a denim jacket and a lime green mini-skirt that scarcely covered her crotch.

  'Yeah?' said Betsy, genuinely curious. She wasn't used to female visitors.

  'Sorry to bother you, but do you know where I could find Billy Dazzle?'

  Betsy rolled her eyes heavenwards. 'For crying out loud! Who do you think I am? His fucking wife?'

  The girl was completely unfazed and continued to chew a mouthful of gum in a noisy, loose-lipped fashion. Her big black eyes, however, darted curiously at Betsy, noting her dishevelled state.

  'Got you out of bed, have I? Sorry. The thing is, he's not down in his office and I need to see him urgent. You're a brass, aren't ya?'

  'What?'

  'You know, on the game. "French chest for sale", that sort of thing. You sure you don't know where Billy Dazzle is?'

  'No.' Betsy began to close the door.

  'Here, hang about - can I ask you a question?'

  'You already did and I can't help you.'

  'No, something different. Tell me, how much do you charge?'

  Betsy's irritation boiled over. She stepped forward and grabbed the girl by the collar of her jacket.

  'Push off, you little bitch,' she hissed into the other's startled face, 'and don't you or any of your funny friends come and bother me again.'

  The girl's lips froze in mid-chew and her pupils grew large with fright. An irate Betsy, some four inches taller, her hair a wild golden mane around her scowling face, was an intimidating sight.

  However, the girl stood her ground and said meekly, 'I'm sorry, miss, I didn't mean to be rude.'

  Betsy relaxed her grip, aware that perhaps she had over-reacted.

  'The thing is,' the girl pressed on, 'I need some advice - how do I get to be a tart like you?'

  Betsy couldn't understand why she had invited Amanda in, especially with Arnold asleep in the next room. Maybe it was guilt - she had nearly thrown the poor kid down the stairs - or maybe an instinctive recognition that here was a girl with possibilities. Those eyes, almost black but flecked with hazel lights, were fabulous. Betsy had always been a good judge of the competition.

  'Why,' she asked when she had sat the girl on her sofa and made her a mug of tea, 'should a nice kid like you want to be a prostitute?'

  Amanda grinned, 'Cos I'm sick of handing it out for free - or near enough. I don't call a Four Seasons pizza and a tenner a proper return for letting a feller get his leg over.'

  'Have you had lots of boyfriends?'

  'Are you kidding? I'm very popular down our way, always was - even before I left school.'

  Betsy nodded. She had been popular at school, too. 'But the men I know,' continued Amanda, 'only want one thing and they want it on the cheap. I was thinking of moving up west and putting it on a professional basis. Like you. Do you think I could?'

  Betsy shrugged. 'Why not? The only thing that separates the amateurs from the professionals in this business is that we get the cash up front.'

  'I mean, do you think I look good enough? You're so tall and blonde I can see why men would cough up to get at you. I'm worried I'm not special enough.'

  Betsy laughed. 'Are you serious? You honestly don't know how gorgeous you are?'

  'Well, my Uncle Danny says I'm the hottest little teenager he's ever had. But he fucks my mother too and she's gross, so I think he might not be the best judge.'

  Betsy took a long look at the girl sitting next to her. She was bedraggled and nicotine-stained, her dress sense was abysmal and she continued to chew gum even as she slurped tea. She also mangled the English language in the funny London accent that Betsy still found difficult to understand. Evidently this was not the most sophisticated lady
in town. Nevertheless, there was something about her. The long dancer's legs, the big black eyes, the full red lips all screamed out that this girl was a guaranteed cock-stiffener at a hundred yards on a foggy night. A germ of an idea took root in Betsy's brain.

  'Would you mind taking your clothes off?'

  Amanda leapt to her feet and, without hesitation, began to strip. Betsy watched with half a smile on her face as clothes began to fly across the room - scruffy denim jacket, creased white blouse, garish red bra and pale green skirt - leaving her clad in just a pair of clumpy lace-up flat shoes and thick blue leggings that clung like a second skin to her hips. She wore nothing beneath them and a thick bush of flattened pubic hair bulged obviously at the junction of her thighs.

  She kicked off her shoes and turned away from Betsy to bend over and slide the remaining garment down her legs. As she did so Betsy drew in her breath, 'Wow,' she said, 'that's a great ass!'

  'Do you think so? I'm worried it's too big.' Amanda looked round at her rear end critically, grasping her left bum cheek so the creamy flesh spilled over her fingers.

  'Honey, if you want to be a model or a dancer you're right - it's too big. But if you want to give a man something to hang onto in this crazy world then it's perfect. I bet none of your itchy-fingered "uncles" have ever complained.'

  'I suppose not.' Amanda grinned sheepishly and ran her hands up to her breasts which were high and buoyant, each trembling orb topped by a cute red nipple standing out like a ripe raspberry. 'And what about my boobs?'

  Betsy got to her feet. 'Child, you're a walking wet dream and you know it. And I can't hang around telling you you've got outstanding tits. How about going to work?'

  'What? Right now?'

  'Sure. I've got a guy next door and we'll soon find out whether you've got what it takes. You'll make money, too.'

  'OK.'

  'Good girl. I have a hunch you'll be fabulous. Now, you need some pretty things - let's see what might fit.' Betsy turned to a large chest in the corner of the room and began to rummage through the drawers.

  'Let's try these,' she said, and helped Amanda put on a white lacy suspender belt and matching stockings. The shoes she produced - elegant high heels in white leather - were too big but both agreed that that didn't matter much.

  'That's great,' said Betsy, 'from the waist down anyway. The white garter belt sure sets off your little black muff. Let's see what else I can find. Unfortunately you'll never get those bazookas into any of my bras.'

  She hunted some more and found a diaphanous pink top that fell in a tantalising gauzy screen over the girl's sumptuous tits.

  'That'll do,' Betsy pronounced, having made Amanda parade up and down the room. She wobbled a bit in the unfamiliar shoes, setting her breasts quivering, but Betsy knew that was no disadvantage where men like Arnold were concerned.

  'Two things more,' said Betsy.

  'Yes.'

  'Do you like big dicks?'

  'You bet!' Amanda nodded her head enthusiastically. 'What else?'

  'Lose that fucking gum. Forever.'

  Chapter 50

  Tea at Brick Tempo's apartment was not an elaborate affair. He produced a large bottle of Thorny Cactus sour mash which he insisted that mother and daughter Knickerbocker drink neat. Of course, they'd have drunk neat bleach if he had asked them. In Billy's opinion the alcohol did not excuse what followed, the women were so fired up by events at Candy's that they were practically having orgasms just being in the same room as Brick Tempo. Nevertheless, Joanna attempted to observe the proprieties.

  'It's so kind of you to invite us, Brick. Superstars like you must be constantly pestered by fans. It is a rare privilege for us to share a private moment or two with you, isn't it, Nicole?'

  'Oh yes!' agreed the daughter.

  'Believe me, ma'am, the pleasure is all mine. I just love to meet my admirers, that's how I learn about life. For instance, young lady, what exactly does that slogan on your shirt mean?'

  Nicole pirouetted coyly, holding the T-shirt by its hem so all could see the words and the formidable swell of flesh beneath. She took a deep breath, 'Well—' she began.

  Her mother cut in quickly, 'Nicky, don't you dare!'

  'But, Mummy...'

  'I will not have you haranguing poor Brick with your infantile politics on such a nice afternoon.' Joanna turned to Brick, 'It's a badly made and horribly expensive piece of designer tat that has caused countless arguments in our house.'

  Brick nodded sagely then smiled at Nicole who was on the point of tears.

  'I see,' he said, 'but leaving politics aside it is rather unusual and I was wondering if I could buy it from Nicole.'

  Mother and daughter regarded Brick curiously.

  'I have a theory about clothes. I think fashion is a kind of material memory, if you know what I mean. Take that vest. It couldn't come from any other time or place in the history of this planet. Julius Caesar would never have worn it nor Napoleon nor even JFK, because it's a snapshot of now. Yes sir, I want it!'

  Billy listened to this speech with admiration. There was no need for Brick to go through this elaborate charade to get Nicky's tits out into the open but he could see that the singer was enjoying himself.

  'I tell you what,' continued Brick, bearing down on the open-mouthed girl, 'you can have my shirt in exchange. Or my jeans - or any of my clothes. Take your pick.' And he began to undress, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off his broad bronzed torso.

  'C'mon, Nicky,' he roared, 'what are you waiting for?'

  But the girl was frozen to the spot, mesmerised by the sight of her idol kicking off his cowboy boots and unzipping his jeans. He stopped when he was down to a pair of pale blue briefs that barely covered the straining bulge of his genitals. The bar of his big penis lay sideways across the flat of his stomach, almost poking through the material. He put his hands on his hips and gave a little pelvic bump in Nicky's direction. 'Don't be shy, honey, take what you want.'

  Nicky swooned. She pitched straight forward into Brick's arms and he lost no time in peeling the T-shirt upwards and over her shoulders, at the same time appearing to administer to her the kiss of life.

  The two of them stood there swaying in the middle of the room, joined at the mouth. Nicky's big breasts bulged out at the sides as she ground herself against Brick's chest, her arms wrapped around his neck.

  The coveted T-shirt lay on the floor by Joanna's foot. Billy shot a glance in her direction to see how the respectable society mother was taking the sight of her half-naked daughter locked in the arms of one of the era's most celebrated degenerates.

  Joanna smiled coolly back at Billy. 'She's not a bad girl really,' she said. 'I think a little rebellion is to be expected at her age, don't you?'

  The teenage rebel now had one hand on the waistband of Brick's briefs, clumsily easing the elastic down over the stiff prong of Brick's cock. The unsheathed pink glans sprung into view and Billy could have sworn that Joanna's pupils grew twice as large at the sight. She gulped hungrily at her Thorny Cactus as the girl's eager fingers delved deeper to cup the singer's balls, revealing the thick stem of his prick as she did so.

  Joanna laid a hand casually on Billy's knee. 'I'm so glad you could arrange this little tea party for us. It was really very kind of you, considering we had never met before.'

  The hand slid upwards to Billy's thigh.

  'Well...' he said, suddenly aware that Joanna's attentions were not, after all, entirely unwanted, 'I'm bound to help any friend of Candy's.'

  In front of them Nicky's little shorts were being eased over her tight round bum as Brick's big hands swiftly undressed her. Obviously the old skills of girl-stripping had not deserted the rock star during his years of deprivation.

  Joanna's hand had now unzipped Billy's trousers and his loins were alive with anticipation as her cool fingers slipped inside his fly.

  'I adore Candy,' said Joanna, 'she does such good work, wouldn't you agree?'

  Billy agreed - he'd h
ave agreed to anything as Joanna's hand closed on him and began to work the slippery skin of his foreskin back and forth across the tingling head of his throbbing member.

  In fact mother and daughter were manipulating cock almost in unison, as Nicky fingered Brick's big boner while Joanna wrapped her sweet fingers around Billy's agitated stem.

  By now Nicky had been undressed down to her sheer black leggings which were stretched taut over the prominent ovals of her buttocks, revealing the pale gleam of white flesh beneath. The girl was on tiptoe, still hanging onto Brick's neck with one arm, her mouth pressed tight to his, wriggling her pelvis backwards and forwards. With a stab of excitement Billy noticed that there was a large hole in the crotch of her leggings through which, on the back thrust, he could glimpse short gingery pubic curls and the glistening pink lips of a well-lubricated vagina.

  Brick's big hands were roaming over the girl's ripe arse, squeezing and kneading the pneumatic flesh, gripping the cheeks and pulling them apart, then probing lower between her legs. With a grunt of satisfaction he found the hole in the thin material and pushed a thick forefinger within, straight between the lips of Nicky's slippery pussy.

  'Oh Mummy,' she howled, 'he's got his finger right up my twat!'

  'Nicole,' replied her mother sternly, not breaking her rhythmic frigging of Billy's cock, 'you know I told you never to use that word!'

  'Sorry, Mummy, but - ooh, he's found my clitty!'

  'Nicky, please!'

  'But he's rubbing my clitty - ooh, that's fantastic! Oh, Mummy I think I'm going to come!'

  'Don't be disgusting!'

  'But I can't help it! Brick Tempo's got his finger up my cunt! He's rubbing my clitty! Oh God, Brick Tempo's going to make me come. Oh, oh, OH!'

  And the exquisite rounds of Nicky's bum, on a level with Billy's face as he sat beside her mother on the sofa, jerked backwards and forwards in a blur on the probing digits of Brick's big hand. Over her shoulder, hidden from the tight-lipped but dexterous Joanna, Brick grinned at Billy and winked.