by Noel Amos
Sometimes Robyn regretted it. If she'd left him in his stained corduroys she might have been able to keep him all to herself. But these days she was not sure if that was what she really wanted. As she waited for him to return she kept glancing at the whip she had placed on top of the television. Knowing that she was going to get her bum whacked gave her a thrill, there was no doubt, but only because she would enjoy a hard penis between her legs afterwards.
She fell asleep before Alistair returned home. He found her curled up on the floor, her small round posterior thrust cheekily towards him. He smacked it.
'Hey,' shouted Robyn, instantly awake, 'that's not fair!'
'Naughty little girls who turn up unannounced deserve everything they get,' he drawled, picking her up and draping her over an armchair.
'What about "Hello, darling, what a marvellous surprise"?' she protested as he peeled her knickers down her long thighs.
'How's this for surprise?' he replied and thrust his cock without ceremony into her spread pussy.
'Christ, Needle, you're some romantic. Aren't you even going to whip me first?'
'Later,' he said, lunging into her at full bore, stuffing his bony tool with brute force deep into her juicy hole. 'Then I'll fuck you all over again, just the way you hackettes on the Bunny like it.'
But he hadn't, he'd fallen asleep on top of her and in the morning they'd had a row about her turning up when she wasn't supposed to. Now, as Robyn peered through the gloom of The Frog in a Bucket looking for her mystery caller, she reflected that there had to be an easier way for a girl to get her rocks off.
Chapter 6
Josie cupped her left breast and weighed it in her hand. It wasn't big but she could hardly be called flat-chested. It was average, pretty much like the rest of her, she reflected. Average face, average height, average tits. Lots of boys had said that she was ravishingly pretty but that was because they wanted to stick their cocks in her average pussy. Most of them were pretty average themselves. Except for Gavin. And Ivor.
She began to squeeze her nipple as she thought of Ivor, teasing it out into a perky pink stub. Most of her life had been average. Swotting at school and university to keep up. Working overtime at this research job in this boring bit of Wales.
Except that what had happened the other night with Ivor had not been average. That had been brilliant. It shone like a diamond next to all the other dull episodes in the chain of her limited sexual experience. Even her times with Gavin weren't thrilling in the same way. With Gavin there was always a hidden agenda, a burden of emotional need that detracted from the sheer pleasure of sex.
Whereas, on the sofa with Ivor, there had just been the feel of his cock in her mouth, the squirt of his juices down her throat and the tingle of his fingers in her pussy. And after she'd put the phone down he'd done just what she'd wanted him to - fucked her like he'd fucked Gwen that night. With her arse half off the seat and her legs around his waist, he'd shagged her long and hard. He'd pulled open her blouse, pushed her bra up over her breasts and had gone wordlessly to work between her thighs.
Just as he had with Gwen, he'd placed a hand on her belly and toyed with her clit, while the other roved beneath her, over her pliant buttocks and into the crack between. When he'd pushed a finger firmly into her anus she'd come off with a scream. His dark eyes had bored into her, drinking in every detail of her soft slim body as she writhed in ecstasy beneath him. It had been delicious.
Her hand was in her knickers now as she thought about it. Her pussy was dripping with excitement, just as it had been for days. Oh God, she thought, I'm going to have to wank again.
'Hey, Josie,' said Gwen, sailing into the small bedroom without bothering to knock and then freezing as she took in the half-naked girl lying on the bed. 'Oops, I'm sorry, were you asleep?'
'It's OK.'
'I've brought you a drink to buck you up. Is red wine all right?'
'Who says I need bucking up?' said Josie, taking the glass nevertheless.
'With your boyfriend far away hallucinating about big-titted blondes, of course you do. Cheers.'
Josie had told Gwen about Gavin's babbling phone call and his fixation with the busty raider. She had omitted her own activities during the course of the call.
'If you ask me,' said Gwen, 'you need a man closer to home to keep your morale up.'
Josie gulped her drink and said nothing. Gwen had turned into a good friend but she may not remain one if she found out about Ivor.
'Why don't we go down to the rugby club? I fancy a little action myself.'
'What about Ivor?'
'He may be my home fixture but who says I can't play away from time to time?'
'Gwen, that's shocking. Do you really?'
'Every chance I get. So what about it some night?'
'I don't know. Anyway, it's the off season, isn't it?'
'Not for the kind of game I'm talking about.' She laughed and drained her glass.
Josie followed suit and said, 'Can I ask you a personal question?'
'Anything, darling.'
'Do you think my boobs are big enough for titty-bonking?'
'What?'
'Don't look so surprised, I really want to know. If Gavin's getting so worked up about doing it over that woman's chest I suppose I ought to make myself available. But mine don't seem substantial enough. Look.' And she squeezed them together with her hands.
Gwen sat next to her on the bed and peered closely at her friend's delicate rosy bosom.
'I see what you mean. You're wondering whether there's enough flesh to go round. A prick might just flatten them out.'
'Yes, what do you think?'
Gwen picked up a tube of moisturiser from the bedside table and pushed it experimentally into the thin line of cleavage. 'Hmm. It sits on top a bit rather than sinking in. And most dicks are a bit bigger than this.'
'Most dicks! You've done a survey, have you?' Josie was beginning to feel a bit hysterical. And tipsy, Gwen had been topping up the glasses with a heavy hand.
'Look at it this way,' said Gwen, 'you might strike lucky and find a guy with a tiny cock. You'd be made for each other.'
She shook with laughter and peeled off her T-shirt. Her large tanned breasts were supported by a black bra with gauzy patterns that revealed the pale flesh beneath. Her freckled cleavage was deep and enticing. Josie felt woefully inadequate.
'Gosh, Gwen, they're gorgeous.'
'Well, yours are gorgeous, too, and you know it. Any guy with taste would adore to rub his knob all over those pretty little boobs. I just want to demonstrate how things work for us large-scale girls.'
By now she had shrugged off her bra and her great brown knockers were swinging free, their weight pulling them downwards ever so slightly. Taking a big tit in each hand, she said, 'Put that tube in the middle.'
Josie did as she was told and the tube vanished for a moment as Gwen folded her breasts over it. Then it reappeared as Josie, entering into the swing of things, began to push it backwards and forwards in imitation of a rearing penis.
'That's it,' said Gwen. 'It's usually best if you lie back and the guy straddles you. Or you can kneel in front of him. Some oil on the tits helps and you've got to give him a good gobble on the upstroke - they all love that.'
'You are rude, Gwen,' said Josie and pantomimed a dick in orgasm, thrusting the tube up and down in little jerks.
'What's very important is to rub the come all over your titties when he's finished. It helps get the feller going for the next round - which, Josie, I guarantee you'll be dying for.'
'Gwen, I am dying for it this very minute.'
There was a knock at the door.
'You're in luck then, girl. That'll be the boys.'
'What?'
'Stay here and don't panic.'
'Gwen!' But she was gone, her big boobs swinging as she left.
Josie slammed the door shut behind her, her heart pounding. From the hall she heard laughter. Male laughter. And cheers - Gw
en had obviously opened the door half naked. Josie didn't know what to do.
The noises and whoops grew muffled; they must have gone into the kitchen or the living-room. Now there was silence. Josie made herself take deep breaths. She began to calm down.
She pulled on a thick sweater and a skirt and sat on the bed, breathing deeply. Five minutes went by. What were they doing? Surely Gwen wasn't so shameless as to start fucking on the living-room floor? Who could say? There must be at least two of them. The thought made her feel funny.
There was a tap at the door. 'Who is it?' said Josie.
Ivor stepped into the room, a look of concern in his big black eyes.
'Are you all right?'
'Go away, Ivor.'
'I thought you liked me.'
'Oh, I do.' It came out rather too quickly. He smiled and sat on the bed beside her.
Josie shrank away from him. 'What about Gwen?'
'She's talking to Terry. Are you hot?'
'No.'
'Well, I am.' And he began to unbutton his shirt.
Josie watched, mesmerised, as he bared his broad chest, then stood and unbuckled his belt. He shucked his jeans and underpants off in one movement and stood in front of her stark-naked. His penis was fully erect.
Josie began to giggle, she couldn't help it. 'Is striptease your only seduction technique?' she asked.
He picked her bodily from the bed and she clung, laughing, to his neck. Her earlier excitement had returned. He was going to fuck her once more and she couldn't wait.
They kissed hungrily, his tongue probing her mouth with a tenderness that surprised her. His hands were under her sweater and palming her breasts, pinching her nipples, then pulling her to him to press her naked flesh against his. She wasn't laughing now.
He pushed her skirt up to her waist and pulled the gusset of her panties to one side. She was sopping wet. He grunted his approval as he tipped her backwards onto the bed and positioned himself over her.
'Oh yes,' she whispered as he pressed the fat head of his tool into her crack, 'put that big thing in me. Shove it right up me. Hurry!'
His eyes were blazing into hers as he thrust home and she pushed her tongue into his mouth and sank her nails into his buttocks as she took the weight of him. She came at once. It was bliss.
He stayed motionless inside her as she calmed down and then began a more relaxed thrusting. She gloried in the feel of his strong hard body on top of hers. She loved the fact that he hardly spoke, he just appeared in her life and fucked her. She'd never had a relationship like it. They said it was what men really wanted from women. She could understand why. It was perfect.
He was doing his clit-tickling, bum-probing trick. It was obviously a speciality of his; he was bloody good at it. She came again, a slow, lingering orgasm this time that left her satisfied for the moment.
'Get off me,' she said. 'I want to do something.'
He obeyed and allowed himself to be positioned as required. He grinned, his white teeth flashing in the half-light as she smoothed ointment over her breasts.
Kneeling between his legs, she held his stiff organ between her tits, trying to envelop him in her cleavage. She kept him there by lacing her fingers and pressing her breast flesh inwards with her wrists. Held captive, his wet prick pressed into her bosom, the red knob-end just inches from her lips.
'Go on, Ivor,' she said, 'fuck my tits.'
He needed no urging, plunging his cock into the slippery hole made by her breasts and fingers. The head thrust up and down, getting redder and redder, the eye in the tip seeming to wink at her as he poked.
'Lick it, Josie,' said a voice behind her, 'give it a good suck.'
Gwen was standing in the open doorway and by her side was a boy Josie had seen with Ivor once or twice. Gwen was naked, her big breasts thrusting out proudly, her pubic bush a wild profusion. The boy - Terry - had his hand between her legs with two fingers hidden inside her. He was fully dressed but his flies were open and Gwen was holding his cock in her hand.
For a moment this extraordinary sight had Josie bewitched and she stopped her lewd movements. Then she did as she was told, dipping her head to capture Ivor's member between her lips, flicking at the glans as it thrust up and then retreated.
Suddenly Ivor groaned as if he had been struck and, on the up-stroke, a bolt of semen shot from his tool, inundating Josie's face and neck.
'Good God,' said Terry, 'that's the horniest thing I've ever seen.'
'Fantastic!' said Gwen and placed her free hand over Terry's fingers, pressing them further between her legs.
Josie said nothing but basked in the approval of her squirming flatmate as she began to rub Ivor's come into her tits.
Chapter 7
'So, Ms Chestnut, what do you think?' said Archibald Monk to Robyn in the dingy snug of The Frog in a Bucket.
Between them on the scarred and beer-ringed pub table lay a large brown envelope. Robyn picked it up.
'Are these the pictures? May I look?'
Monk nodded but Robyn had already reached inside and extracted a dozen black-and-white photographs. There was no one near them in the deserted back room but she instinctively held them close to her body, safe from prying eyes.
'Oh wow. These are fantastic!'
'I thought they might appeal to you.' Robyn shot him a sudden look.
'Not you personally, of course, Ms Chestnut, but your readers.'
'Call me Robyn, for Christ's sake. Yeah, these are just the kind of thing our ten million punters love to drool over. What's the catch?'
'There is no catch. We must find this woman and we need help from the general public. By making these photographs available in your newspaper we hope a reader will recognise her and come forward.'
'A nationwide womanhunt led by the Daily Rabbit. We'll be deluged. The post office will need a forklift truck.'
'I can set up one man on a special hot line, that's all we can spare. You'll have to deal with the calls and mail that come to you. Most of it will be worthless but someone must know who she is.'
'You bet,' said Robyn, examining a shot that showed the half-naked robber reaching to grab a plastic bag of money. 'You'd expect a pair like that to stick in the mind. They're unforgettable, wouldn't you say?'
'If you like that sort of thing.'
'Don't you?'
'I wouldn't admit to it while I'm on duty.'
Robyn eyed the tall Scotsman with interest. Did he have a sense of humour? She found it hard to tell.
'Tell me one more thing, Inspector—'
'Archie.'
'Why haven't you given this to the Dog? You did say we had this exclusively?'
'We are going to ask for cooperation from both of you. But the Daily Dog's leader this morning decided us in your favour. They suggested that my superior, Superintendent Charles Hatter, and the men at his command were not motivated to catch Brenda because she was the wrong gender.'
'I don't get it.'
'The headline read ARE THERE FAIRIES IN THE MAD HATTER'S GARDEN? He is very upset.'
Robyn arrived two hours later for dinner. She thought that was pretty good going considering the amount of work she had put in at the office redrafting the next day's edition. The editor had been ecstatic and had completely remade the first half of the paper. He'd chucked out the intended glamour-girl spread on page three, saying that Brenda made her look like a grade-B slag. It was true, the grainy scene-of-the-crime shots from the security videos had a power all of their own. The robber's curvaceous body and flowing limbs made a vivid image on the page. Robyn had to admit it, she was damned sexy.
DO YOU KNOW THIS BODY? shouted the page-one headline next to a cut-out photo of Brenda in profile. 'The Bunny joins forces with the boys in blue to track down the country's most wanted woman. Be a Bunny Boob-Hunter - ring the Brenda Hot Line today!'
It was hardly Woodward and Bernstein, she had to admit, but they were going to sell a hell of a lot of papers. She'd left the office on a high.
She did not intend to share her euphoria with her dinner companions, however. She was a guest of Wanda Sherman, Alistair's producer, and The Needle did not approve of Robyn discussing her work in public. He would have preferred it if Robyn had done almost anything in the world but work for one of the nation's most notorious tabloids. Now, seated beside the empty chair that had evidently been waiting for Robyn all evening, he shot her a look of pure venom before turning his attention once more to an exotic Brazilian beauty on his other side.
The others were not so disapproving, however. They were making inroads into the brandy and were eager to hear of Robyn's exploits. As she attacked her dried-up salmon, they pressed her for details.
'I can't say,' she protested. 'It's a hot story but you'll have to wait till the paper comes out.'
'Come off it,' spat Alistair. 'Who here would dream of picking up the Daily Rabbit?'
'Actually,' said Barry Cresswell, a TV news editor, 'it's an essential tool of my trade.'
Boos and guffaws greeted this remark and Diana Ardent, the novelist, said loudly, 'It's only because you want to look at the naked boobies.'
'And read about Bra-less Brenda,' added Wanda Sherman. 'It's the biggest story around and the tabloids have got it all to themselves. Are you sure she's not on your payroll?'
Robyn laughed and poured herself another glass of wine; she had a lot of catching up to do.
'I wouldn't mind seeing Brenda's boobies,' said Barry, 'just to check out what the fuss is all about.'
'Buy tomorrow's paper,' said Robyn without meaning to.
'What? You've got her in the Bunny?'
'Well, as a matter of fact... none of you work for the Dog, do you?'
'Don't be stupid,' muttered Alistair, his face like thunder.
'So what's she like?' asked a fair-haired man called Nick.
'Fabulous. I hate to say it, but she's a real knockout. We've got pictures from security cameras and we're running an appeal to see if anyone recognises her.'
'No chance,' said Barry. 'There are only three kinds of breast - big, little and saggy - what do you say, ladies?'