Lust Under Licence (20 page)

'Take off your
knickers!'

Petra's head
jerked up, she could have sworn she had actually heard the words.
The woman opposite was grinning at her.

'Take off your
knickers,' she repeated, 'that's what someone always says to the
heroine in those books.'

'Oh,' said
Petra. 'You're right.'

'Of course.
And the silly girl goes around bare-arsed for the rest of the
story. You can imagine what happens then.'

'Quite.' Petra
nodded, not wanting to appear ignorant.

'So now you
can put the book away and talk to me. If you'd like to, that
is.'

Behind the
spectacles the stranger's eyes were almond-shaped and hazel-hued.
She had a wide curving mouth that tugged upwards at the corners.
She didn't look kind but she did look interesting. Petra was
surprised to find she did not resent being bullied like this. She
put the book into her briefcase.

'What do you
want to talk about?' she asked.

'Your pretty
little cunt, of course.'

The woman's
smile was still in place but Petra felt as if she had just been
doused in cold water. 'You can't talk to me like that!' she
spluttered.

'Why not? If
you don't like it you can go and sit somewhere else.'

'I could
report you.'

'You could but
there's no point - who'd believe you? Anyway who's reading
pornography around here? Not me. If I were a man, of course, I'd
never get away with saying something like that. But, then, if I
were a man I wouldn't dare.'

Petra stared
at her, aghast. There was no arguing with what she said.

'So, take off
your knickers and hand them over,' continued the woman. 'Unless
you're not wearing any.'

'Of course I'm
wearing knickers.'

'What
colour?'

'White.' Why
did she say that?

'How sweet.
Let me see.' It was the recent encounter with Inspector
Quartermain, Petra later reasoned, that caused her to comply. That
all-too-vivid scene had been replayed frequently on nights she had
cuddled up with only the Wand for company. The woman opposite her
had the same mocking arrogance of the inspector and the same
confidence that her will would prevail.

Petra stood
unsteadily, supporting herself with one hand as the train rushed
on. With the other hand she raised the skirt of her short summer
dress.

'Oh yes,' said
the woman, leaning forward to gaze at Petra's bare white thighs,
'you're quite a curvy little thing, aren't you?'

The hem of
Petra's skirt had now reached the vee of her pantied crotch and her
hand shook as she lifted it the last few inches to reveal
herself.

'White
indeed,' said the woman, 'I rather hoped you'd be lying so I could
punish you. Never mind, I'll find some other reason.'

'What?' Petra
couldn't believe she was doing this.

'Take them off
quickly.' The voice was harsh. 'Show me your cunt, slut, and hurry
up.'

The words hit
Petra like blows to the face. She fumbled her panties down her
thighs and fell back onto her seat to slip them over her shoes.

'Who said you
could sit down? Stand up at once!' hissed her tormentor and Petra
jumped to her feet, her panties now in her hand. The woman snatched
them from her and pressed them to her lips.

'They're
soaking wet,' she pronounced with a hoarse laugh. 'You delicious
little baggage. My, are we going to have fun! Now, let me have a
good look at you...'

And as the
train rushed onwards Petra held her dress high and eased her feet
apart. Maybe she was going crazy but she couldn't help herself. The
woman leaned forward till her mouth was an inch from the impudent
curls of the exposed pussy. Her eyes were on Petra's most intimate
secrets like a torch beam at midnight and her breath caressed
Petra's itching clitoris like a warm breeze off a summer sea.

'Oh God, oh
God, oh God,' she moaned softly.

Though her
persecutor had not even touched her, Petra knew she was about to
come.

When Tom
offered Chas the use of Christina's beautiful bod in exchange for a
stake in Euphoria, he had no idea how was going to deliver. But the
gleam in Cross's eye told that somehow he had to find a way.

The outcome
was a surprisingly formal dinner party in Shani's luxurious Chelsea
flat. It was not the kind of place Tom had envisaged for the singer
but she was not a predictable woman. The rooms were large, the
ceilings were high, and the windows were wide. An interior designer
had doubtless been at work but the effect was personal - warm,
luxurious, seductive.

Shani was in
Tom's confidence - she had to be. She'd laughed when he'd told her
about her conversation with Chas.'

'I can fix
Tina,' she'd said, 'but why should I? What's in it for me?'

'Power. And a
bigger slice of the cake. We'd be in a unique position, for God's
sake - we'd control our own record company.'

'OK,' she'd
said, fixing him with her snake-charmer stare. 'Just don't fuck me
over, white boy. I'm a witch, remember?' Tom knew that well enough.
He'd seen it in the way she hypnotised her audience and manipulated
the girls in the group. And in the way she cast a spell over
Tina.

After dinner
Shani led her guests into the living room. There were only three of
them - Chas, Tina and Tom.

'Why have I
got to be there?' Tom had asked Shani

'Because Tina
wants you to be,' had been the reply. 'Besides, don't you want to
watch?'

Right now he
was watching Shani kiss Tina beneath the mistletoe. It was a week
before Christmas and all of them, he realised with a
cock-stiffening jolt, were game for an early present.

Tina wore a
black cocktail dress that finished at mid-thigh and was held up by
two thin straps. Her blonde mane was piled high baring the long
white stem of her neck. The pale flesh of her shoulders gleamed
like porcelain. Shani turned her to face the two men and she obeyed
like a puppet, her eyes cast down. One strap was off her shoulder.
She made no move to replace it.

'Who's first?'
Shani whispered into her ear.

To his
surprise, Tina said softly, 'Tom.'

Her big brown
eyes bored into his as she kissed him, her mouth wide and wet, her
tongue darting inside him like a little fish. In his arms she was
light and slender but the flesh of her back was warm to his touch.
She wound an arm round his neck and pulled him down onto a large
soft sofa. Somehow her dress had fallen to her waist and one small
perfectly curved breast was in his hand.

Tom was at a
loss. This was surely not what was intended.

But the nipple
was big like a nut in his palm and his other hand was on the full
curve of her buttocks beneath her skirt. If she wore panties, they
were so small as to be undetectable.

He managed to
turn her head so he could look back into the room, expecting to see
a very unhappy Chas.

But Chas was
far from discontented. He and Shani were locked in each other's
arms beneath the mistletoe and his hands were roving the seat of
her scarlet stretch pants. As Tom watched, her loose silk blouse
was detached from her shoulders and fluttered to the floor.

Tom was
troubled. Events were marching on seemingly out of control - Tina's
small hand was now inside his jeans wrapped around the stem of his
rampant tool - and he was possibly on the brink of blowing the
biggest deal of his life.

Tina had his
cock out now and had slipped the knob into the hot little furnace
of her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down on it eagerly and
reached between his legs to palm his balls. From the way she
handled him Tom knew she was not experienced in the activity. On
the other hand, enthusiasm was intoxicating. At any second he was
liable shoot down her throat.

She took her
lips from him just in time and sat back on her haunches between his
legs. His purple cock wagged in her face, glistening with spit. She
grinned up at him. 'Is this what my mother used to do to you?' she
said, mischief dancing her eyes.

Fortunately he
didn't have to answer for, at that moment, a big black nipple was
thrust between his lips as Shani smothered him. Her midnight mane
of hair fell around him and his hands closed on her pneumatic
flesh. He heard a squeal and a cry from Tina but he couldn't see
what was happening for the lights had gone out. However he could
guess. There was a moan in the darkness nearby and a sticky kissing
sound. Shani lay rigid and unmoving on top of him, his cock in her
hand and her tit still in his face. It was as if she was waiting
for something to happen.

'God, Tina,'
came Chas's voice in the darkness, followed by scuffling, slippery
noises.

'Oh, oh, oh.'
That was a female voice, small and tender.

'Do you like
that?'

'Oh yes.'

'And
that?'

'Please, Chas,
please...'

'And
this?'

'OH!'

On top of Tom,
Shani's body began to shake. For a moment he wondered if she were
upset. A foolish thought, he realised, as he recognised a fit of
silent laughter. On the floor now there were unmistakable sounds:
of flesh colliding in ascending rhythm, of complementary moans and
sighs and of sticky in-out noises as cock cleaved cunt.

Shani was
moving off Tom, pulling him by the hand. They left the room as
silently as they could - not that it mattered as Chas and Tina were
rattling the furniture. Nothing less than an earthquake would have
shaken them out of their stride.

In the hall
the pair of them could not contain themselves. Shani pushed Tom
into the nearest room and they sobbed their laughter into the
covers of a large bed.

Tom recovered
first and looked at Shani's long gleaming body quivering beside
him. All she wore was a leather corset which lifted her big
coffee-coloured tits and left bare the forested tangle of her pussy
mound. In the forest her long madder-hued cunt lips gaped and
gleamed. Tom's cock still jutted from his jeans, wet and eager and
in no mood for merriment.

He slid it
into her in one, covering her mouth with his, hugging her sumptuous
body tight. At once the laughter died in her throat and the
coal-black eyes burned into his. She fought him for a second or
two, as if by reflex. Then her long limbs relaxed and a yellow
flame, like a distant candle, flickered deep in her pupils. Her
loins moved with his and her mouth opened and she drew him in.

She was hot
and sweet and intoxicating and, much as he wanted to, he couldn't
last long. Fortunately she was primed too. They convulsed and came
in succession, him first and then her, swallowing the stiff sword
of his cock with her voracious loins, her pelvis dancing against
him.

She pushed him
off her at once.

'There's
millions of guys in the world who'd pay a fortune to do what you've
just done,' she said.

'Not
forgetting the girls.'

'Them
too.'

From the next
room there came a high-pitched moan.

'Tina's just
tuning up,' said Shani.

'I didn't
realise she could be so enthusiastic,' said Tom sliding his hand up
a soft-sheened thigh.

'Oh, I did,'
said Shani, opening her legs to allow him access.

Tom had no
reason to doubt it.

Petra knew her
behaviour was shameful. Standing there on the train, holding her
dress high to reveal her nude pussy mound to a complete stranger -
that was shameful. Shameful and glorious. She couldn't help
herself.

The dark woman
simply stared at her bared pubis and Petra came. The strength
melted from her legs and she hung on to the luggage rack with her
free hand as her pelvis jerked convulsively. She could feel the
petals of her cunt opening before the woman's penetrating gaze. She
could smell the perfume of her own excitement thick in the air. And
she danced like a puppet and orgasmed in the woman's face.

The sound of
the carriage door sliding open broke their spell. Petra fell back
onto the seat in a confused and blushing heap, pulling her skirt
hastily down her thighs.

'Good morning,
ladies,' came the sound of a cheerful voice. 'I trust you are
enjoying the journey on this delightful morning. May I remind you
there is a buffet car on this service, providing a variety of
delicacies - though I would recommend from personal experience that
you steer clear of the croissants.'

Petra stared
at the tall youth in uniform as though he were a man from Mars. The
intrusion of everyday reality into this fantasy journey was hard
for her to take. Her companion, on the other hand, was not fazed
for a moment.

'I suppose
you'd like to see my ticket, Inspector.'

'I would
indeed, madam, though I'd prefer to be called Phil. We're user
friendly these days, especially to attractive ladies travelling in
first class.'

The woman
flashed Phil a smile as she flashed her ticket. She looked
positively flirtatious.

Petra reached
for her handbag but the dark woman suddenly grasped her hand,
preventing her from opening it.

'It's all
right, darling,' she said to Petra, 'I've got yours here.' And she
held out her other hand to the railway inspector.

Phil looked
bemused as he took the white scrap of material from her. Petra
froze, rigid with panic. She knew what he held in his hand.

'Bloody hell,'
he said as he unfolded Petra's tiny panties. Then, bonhomie
instantly replaced by suspicion, he demanded, 'What's your game
then?'

'Just a little
user-friendly fun,' said the woman. 'My friend's lost her ticket
but she can show you something else instead.'

Petra said
nothing, the other woman was in control. She could feel the juice
seeping out of her onto the seat beneath her bare buttocks.