Lust Quest (30 page)

“Can I help you?” the lad asked as he peered through the shelving.

“I’m just looking,” I smiled. “Actually, there is something I’m after.”

“What’s that?” he asked, walking around the shelving and standing next to me.

“Candles, ornamental candles.”

“Ah, this way,” he smiled.

Following him to the back of the shop, the china lighthouse massaging the tight sheath of my vagina, I wondered whether he’d like me to suck him off. I could kneel before his and take the purple plum of his penis into my wet mouth. He’d gasped as I wanked his solid shaft and licked the silky-smooth surface of his knob.

He’d pump his spunk into my mouth, the white liquid bathing my tongue, jetting to the back of my throat.

“Here we are,” he said, waving his hand at a shelf lined with candles.

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“They’re beautiful,” I smiled, my cunt tightening around the lighthouse. “And very expensive,” I added, looking at the price tags.

“They’re hand made, madam.”

“I see. I’m sure I’ll find one that’s the right size.”

“The right size?” he echoed, his dark eyes frowning.

“My boyfriend is away on business at the moment. I’m sure you understand why I need a candle.”

“Oh, er ... Yes, of course” he stammered. “I’ll leave you to choose.”

Returning to the counter, he was obviously stunned by my revelation. Slipping the lighthouse out of my drenched vagina, I placed it on the shelf and grabbed a huge candle. My feet apart, my knees bent, I pushed the candle between my swollen outer lips and forced it deep into my spasming cunt. The sensations creeping into my contracting womb as I walked towards the door, my clitoris swelling, I pray that the waxen phallus wouldn’t pop out of my cunt and land on the floor. I thought I was safe enough as I left the shop and started walking down the street. That’s one way to shoplift, I chuckled inwardly. Turning as the lad called out, asking me to step back into the shop, I frowned.

“What’s the problem?” I asked, following him through the door.

“There’s a candle missing,” he said accusingly. “I know my stock well, and there’s a candle missing.”

“Are you suggesting that I stole it?” I gasped.

“May I check your bag?”

“No, you may not,” I returned, feigning shock.

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“Then I have no choice other than to call the police.”

“All right,” I conceded. “I don’t have time to hang around waiting for the police.” Opening my bag, I emptied the contents on the counter. “There. Are you happy now?”

“But ...” he stammered, staring open-mouthed at my bag. “I don’t understand.

The candle was on the shelf when you were looking at them.” He frowned. “I think I know what you’ve done with it,” he murmured. “I’ll call the police and let them deal with this.”

“There’s no need to do that,” I smiled. “If you believe I have the candle hidden, then search me.”

Looking me up and down, he reached out but hesitated. I lifted my skirt, revealing the hairless lips of my pussy, my wet sex slit. His eyes wide, his mouth hanging open, he stared in disbelief at my naked pussy. Urging his to search me, I stood with my feet wide apart. He knelt on the floor, gazing longingly at the wet crack of my vagina. Would he dare to slip his finger into my hot cunt? I pondered.

“I haven’t got all day,” I breathed. “Are you going to body-search me or not?”

“I know you have the candle,” he muttered.

“Then, look for it.” This was excellent material for my dirty book, I mused as he gazed at the dripping crack of my pussy. “Are you going to search me or not?”

Reaching out, he tentatively slipped his finger between the rise of my fleshy pussy lips. His fingertip slowly entering my vagina, I gasped and bent my knees.

Finally driving his finger into my cunt, he looked up at me. He could feel the candle, I 276

knew as he prodded the end of the wax shaft, but was he able to pull it out? Finally standing upright. I lowered my skirt.

“May I go now?” I asked.

“Er ... Well, I ...”

“You want your candle, don’t you? Let me look for it,” I grinned.

Kneeling before him, the candle pressing against my cervix, I tugged his zip down and pulled his semierect penis out before he realized what I was up to.

Retracting his foreskin, I moved forward and sucked his purple knob into my hot mouth. Gasping, he mumbled something as I took his swelling glans to the back of my throat. I was in my element, I mused as I moved my head back, my lips hugging the rim of his knob. The salty taste driving me wild, my vaginal muscles tightening around the candle, I was desperate for his sperm.

Wanking his solid shaft as he trembled on his sagging legs, I wondered at my crude behaviour. The metal post, the lighthouse, the candle, and now sucking a stranger’s knob ... There was research, and there was blatant decadence, I mused, sucking hard on the globe of his rock-hard penis. I wasn’t going to change now, I knew. There was no returning to the days of romantic novels and shopping trips with Jackie. I’d go shopping alone now. Seeking male shopkeepers, I haul their cocks out and suck them to orgasm. Why pay for goods when I get them for nothing?

“God,” the lad murmured, clinging to my head to steady himself. His sperm jetting into my gobbling mouth, he let out gasps and moans of pleasure as I drank 277

from his throbbing glans. My mouth overflowing as he pumped out his orgasmic cream, I repeatedly swallowed. On and on his sperm gushed, and I wondered when he’d last drained his balls. Perhaps I’d become a regular customer, I mused, waking his solid shaft faster, sustaining his orgasm.

“No more,” he finally gasped, his knees bending, his spent penis slipping out of my wet mouth.

“Did you enjoy that?” I asked, rising to my feet and licking my lips.

“God, yes,” he breathed, tugging his zip up.

“So, we still haven’t found the candle.”

“No, no. It doesn’t matter about the candle.”

“I thought you might say that. Well, I’d better be going.”

“Will you ... I mean ...”

“Call again? Yes, I think I will. I’ve enjoyed shopping here. I’m sure you’ll see me again.”

Leaving the shop, I couldn’t help giggling as I walked down the street. The candle massaging my vaginal flesh, the taste of sperm lingering on my tongue, I pondered on finding another shop with a young lad serving alone. No, it wasn’t right, I mused. I wasn’t a prostitute, for goodness sake. There again, it would be fun. Daring myself to do it again, I stopped outside a small shoe shop. There was a middle-aged man leaning on the counter. It might be worth browsing, I decided, entering the shop.

“May I help you?” he asked, walking towards me.

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“I’m looking for some boots,” I replied. “I noticed a red pair in the window.

I’m not sure what size I am.”

“Ah, yes,” he grinned. “They’ve only just come in. Take a seat and we’ll see what size you are.”

Sitting on the low bench, I stretched my leg out as he knelt on the floor. He was too busy measuring my foot to notice that I’d parted my thighs. My hairless vaginal flesh was blatantly displayed, I knew as I parted my thighs further. He finally looked up and froze. His eyes almost popping out, his mouth wide open, he gawped at my young pussy. Finally looking up at my face, he cleared his throat and announced that he was going to fetch a pair of boots. He was gone for some time, and I wondered whether he was wanking. I also wondered what the hell I was doing by showing my hairless pussy to strangers. I hadn’t just changed, I’d become another person, I ruminated as he returned with a pair of red boots.

“These should fit you like a glove,” he smiled, brushing his dark hair away from his face. I reckoned that he was in his forties, probably married, and probably in need of a slut. “If you’ll lift your foot,” he said, kneeling before me. Raising my leg, I watched his expression as I swung my other leg to the side and exhibited the yawning ravine of my dripping cunt. He must have thought that he was dreaming as he fiddled with the boots. His eyes transfixed on my pussy slit, his hands trembling, he mumbled something and stood up.

“Another size,” he grinned. “I won’t be a minute.” I followed him as he went through a door at the rear of the shop. My cunt milk streaming down my inner thighs, 279

I watched as he reached up to a shelf. He was still shaking, his hands trembling as he grabbed a box. Turning, he noticed me and dropped the box to the floor. He knew what I wanted as I walked towards him, I was sure. Kneeling, I tugged his zip down and pulled his limp penis out of his trousers. He said nothing, standing still as I took his soft shaft in my warm hand and slowly wanked him.

“Come on,” I murmured, pulling his heavy balls out and fondling his shaft.

“Wake up for me.” Retracting his foreskin as his penis began to stiffen, I sucked his purple globe into my wet mouth and ran the tip of my tongue around the rim. Leaning against the shelving as I wanked his solid shaft, my tongue exploring the velveteen surface of his swollen knob, he gasped with pleasure. The boots were mine, I knew as he let out long low moans of pleasure. Eyeing the label on the box, I could see that they were my size.

His balls rolling, his shaft twitching expectantly, I moved my head back and forth, fucking my wet mouth with his beautiful cock as he breathed heavily. My body rocking with the mouth-fucking, I kneaded his huge balls and wanked his veined shaft. He was about to come, I knew as he rested his hand on my shoulder. His body becoming rigid, his swelling, he groaned as his sperm pumped into my mouth.

“Ah,” he breathed as my mouth filled with his gushing spunk. “Ah, yes.”

Again and again his bulbous knob drove to the back of my throat, sperm dribbling down my chin as he mouth-fucked me. Did his wife do this to him? I pondered, gripping the globe of his cock between my spermed lips and tonguing his slit. Did she 280

suck him off and swallow his spunk? I doubted it very much as he double up as if in pain. His glistening cock leaving my mouth, I grabbed the box and stood up.

“These are the right size,” I grinned, moving to the door. “I don’t owe you anything, do I?”

“No, no,” he gasped, tugging his zip up.

“Good. I’ll probably be shopping here again.”

“Yes, of course.”

“I like the service, and you’ve been most helpful.”

Once in the street, I couldn’t stop grinning as I walked along the pavement. I could have anything I wanted, for nothing. Well, almost nothing. Licking the sperm from my lips, I was about to call into a coffee shop when I noticed Jackie across the road. She’d already seen me and came trotting towards me waving and calling.

“New shoes?” she asked, eyeing the box.

“New boots,” I replied. “What are you up to?”

“Just window shopping. I don’t have a great deal of money at the moment.

You’re obviously doing all right. Have you been paid for the book?”

“Er ... No, not yet.” The candle slipping out of my wet vagina, I held my thighs together. “I was just going to have a coffee,” I said. “Want to join me?”

“Yes, good idea.”

Walking into the shop, I headed for the loo while Jackie found a table.

Slipping the hot candle out of my wet pussy, I placed it in the box with the boots. It 281

would come in very useful, I mused, brushing my hair before leaving the loo. If I ever found myself without a rock-hard cock to play with, which I doubted I would, then I’d have my candle. Joining Jackie, I placed the box on an empty chair, hoping she wouldn’t want to look at the boots as she asked me whether I’d heard any more from Crystal Marshall.

“No,” I lied as the waitress brought two coffees over. “She was interested in my writing and we had a chat, that was all. We haven’t made plans to keep in touch.”

“It’s funny that she should contact you like that,” Jackie murmured pensively.

“We’d talked about her, you using the name in your book, and then she makes contact via Alan. And you’d heard nothing from him for a year or so,”

“Yes, it is odd,” I smiled.

“It’s funny that Alan knew Crystal in the first place.”

“He met her at some party or other. Talking of which, when’s your next ...

What should I call it? Orgy?”

“We’re planning one for the weekend. I take it that you’ll be coming? Excuse the pun.”

“I don’t know yet. I’m hoping to see Crystal again, so ...”

“I thought you hadn’t made plans to keep in touch.”

“No, I meant ... I meant Angela. She said that she’d keep in touch.”

Sipping our coffees, we chatted about this and that, catching up on the gossip and rumours. I couldn’t stop thinking about Crystal as I listened to Jackie’s account of one of her sex parties. Was she thinking about me? I pondered. After the things I’d done to her naked body, I doubted that she’d forget me in a hurry. Wondering whether 282

she’d make contact, I decided to call at her cottage. It would be interesting to take a look at her writing. And I wanted to discover a little more about her running off and causing all that trouble with the police. Reckoning that Alan knew more than he’d let on, I decided to visit Crystal that evening.

“Right, I have to go,” I said, rising to my feet.

“Already?” Jackie asked.

“Yes, I have one or two shops to call in to and then I must get on with some work.”

“OK. Are you busy this evening?”

“Er ... I’m not sure what’s happening. I’ll ring you.”

“I suppose the coffees are on me?”

“Oh, thanks, Jackie,” I smiled. “I’ll give you a ring.”

Leaving the coffee shop with the shore box under my arm, I decided to try my trick in one last shop. I was pushing my luck, I knew. But I was becoming hooked on the game. Game? I pondered. Was I a prostitute? Taking goods in exchange for sexual services, I supposed I was. I was supposed to be an author, not a whore. But I was beyond caring. Besides, I liked sucking rock-hard cocks to orgasm and swallowing sperm. And if I got a new pair of boots in thrown in, then why not?