Richard knew now what it felt like to be a wanted man. Every stranger they passed seemed to stare suspiciously into his eyes, every police constable was regarding him with a quizzical expression-probably running through his mental file of dangerous criminals, about to stretch out a strong, uniformed arm and grab him by the shoulder!
But they strolled through the ticket barrier at Charing Cross railway station without incident; and although Richard caught a glimpse of his hunted, anxiety-ridden expression in the reflected glass of the public telephone kiosks, nobody was really paying him any attention. He shuffled nervously from one foot to the other, wishing Spencer would hurry up with the telephone call. Standing here by himself, jostled by the rush-hour crowds, Richard felt conspicuous and transparent: certain that at any moment he would be recognised and dragged back on the next train to Fernleigh and the dreaded school…
It had been Spencer's plan to abscond. Left to his own devices, Richard would have suffered whatever punishment was meted out to him and resigned himself hopelessly to his fate. But Spencer had decided that he, personally, had already taken all the discipline and petty restrictions he could stomach. It was time to leave, time to break forever the chains which still bound him to his unreasonable family.
And Richard-required to make up his mind in the space of a few brief minutes-had thrown caution to the wind, packed as many of his clothes and belongings as he could cram into a single suitcase and joined Spencer on an early morning train from Fernleigh to London. Surprise was the boys' greatest advantage. Apparently chastened and terrified at being caught out-of-bounds, nobody suspected that they would have the audacity to run away from the school that same night. With reasonable luck, Spencer told Richard as they pulled in to the London terminus, their absence hadn't even been noticed yet. And now that they had safely arrived in the metropolis, it would be easy for them to quietly disappear-swallowed up without trace among the millions of drifters, students, hippies and others who roamed the streets, coffee bars, clubs and parks of England's capital city…
But Spencer didn't intend that they should be homeless. He had frequently spoken to Richard about a woman named Elizabeth Hayes; and he was now telephoning her, making arrangements for them to stay at her “open house” until they settled independently in London and decided on the easiest means of earning a living.
“What did she say?” Richard pulled open the door of the kiosk immediately Spencer replaced the receiver.
“Don't worry!” Spencer laughed. “I told you everything would be all right, didn't I? She says that she can't wait to meet you! You're going to be another stray waif for Elizabeth's collection!” He grabbed Richard's arm and steered him through the thinning crowd towards the broad pavements of The Strand-glancing at the big clock above the station exit. It was now ten a.m.
“I've just got enough money on me for the 'bus fare,' Spencer told him, breaking into a run as a Number 74 double-decker started to move away from the stop. Richard jumped on the platform, following Spencer upstairs and feeling a knot of excitement pulsing just above his heart. If only half the stories he had heard about Elizabeth Hayes were true, then the wealthy nymphomaniac was going to be quite an interesting character! She might provide an amusing diversion for him while he made plans to gather sufficient funds to get to Beirut… and Lisa!
For this was still Richard's main objective. He wanted more than ever to continue his intimacy with the girl who had been both his childhood and his adolescent lover; and although his intellect warned him that such a liaison-locking them together in adult life, also-could destroy them so far as more normal relationships were concerned, he couldn't resist the urgent impulse to return to his stepsister…
Elizabeth Hayes opened the door to them and stood in the jamb, her watchful green eyes taking a methodical inventory of their appearance and their physique. A faint smile creased the corners of her rather full mouth, and then she stepped aside-sweeping them through into the hallway with an expansive, theatrical gesture that reminded Richard irresistibly of a prima donna.
Her apartment, located in one of the new blocks of flats overlooking the Kings Road in Chelsea, was lavish and cluttered with a weird assortment of pop- and op-art paintings, kinetic sculptures which revolved slowly and sparked with multicoloured lights, obscene but artistically designed figurines and a mountainous heap of ragged-looking manuscripts…
(Richard learned later that these were some of the works of art donated to Elizabeth by her numerous “kept boys”: small tokens of appreciation for services which she had rendered to them).
Elizabeth had a pot of percolated coffee bubbling on an electric ring, and after Richard had consumed three cups of the black, steaming stimulant, he felt more relaxed in her presence. He sat back, his body sinking luxuriously into the soft cushions of a settee, letting Spencer do all the talking; conscious that Elizabeth's eyes remained fixed on him, regarding him with a frankness that-a year or two ago-would have made Richard uncomfortable. She listened while Spencer explained the circumstances of their leaving Fernleigh, nodding her approval, but saying very little. Spencer seemed to feel very much at home. He stretched his legs out on the deep pile of the carpet, crossing his ankles and grinning confidently at Richard-winking at him as if to remind the boy that he could expect the seduction to begin at any moment…
Elizabeth either failed to notice Spencer's implied lewdness, or she had long ago ceased to care what her boy-friends thought of her. She was a tall, attractive woman; her body slender but well-curved, the movement of her breasts under the man's shirt which she wore betraying ample evidence that they were generously buxom-and unfettered by a brassiere. Her long, showgirl's legs were concealed by a tight-fitting pair of white slacks: their crotch so snug that Elizabeth's pubic mound could be seen bulging like a small child's penis, straining against the tautly-swathing material and clearly unrestrained by panties.
But Richard found himself more interested in the challenge of her clear green eyes. They held him, commanding his attention, a heady, hypnotic quality to them which made him feel as if he were staring into two dry pools of bright jade. She apparently misinterpreted his steady, inquiring gaze. Richard was curious about her, wondering about the kind of experiences she had suffered-wondering why Elizabeth chose to confine her lovers to youths rather than mature men. But she took his appraisal for sexual interest-probably because she was unable to believe that anyone was concerned with her other qualities-and Elizabeth rose from her chair, a faint and resigned smile on her lips. As she stood over him, Richard could smell the giddy jasmine scent of her perfume; and then she was reaching down for him-drawing him to his feet, her very long fingers crooked into his armpits.
“It's time to examine you, darling!”
Elizabeth's voice became husky as she let her fingers slide down his body and press searchingly into his hips. She was almost as tall as Richard, and wisps of her loose, auburn hair tickled his forehead as she leaned closer to him.
“Slip your clothes off, there's a good boy!” she urged in a whisper that was pregnant with erotic meaning. “I like to see if my guests are worthy of my hospitality before I let them stay with me! Come along, you mustn't be shy! See?” she coaxed him. “Spencer is already undressing… he knows what's required of him!”
Richard glanced at his friend. Nodding encouragement, Spencer was indeed disrobing; shucking off his shirt and trousers, kicking his feet out of his shoes and then lolling back in an armchair to peel off his socks. Nervously, Richard ran his tongue over his lips. He felt travel-stained and grimy, for one thing. And he would have preferred to be alone with Elizabeth-the idea of sharing her with Spencer suddenly filled him with distaste. But the woman again misunderstood his expression…
“Poor boy!” Elizabeth soothed. Her hands stole up to his jacket buttons and swiftly opened them. “You're bashful, aren't you? You think I might not be pleased with your body? Don't be silly-I'm sure you're very well-equipped, Richard! Here… let me help you… I really must see what you have to offer me…”
Her busy fingers soon removed his jacket and shirt, and they caressed arousingly through the string-vest-rubbing temptingly at Richard's nipples, the long nails scratching across the boy's tiny teats-before Elizabeth hauled the undergarment over his head. She worked his trousers down, helped him out of his shoes and socks with her eyes fastened on the bulge where Richard's prick rested beneath his Y-front briefs, but allowed him to keep the pants on while she turned to Spencer and beckoned him closer.
When both boys were standing on front of her, Elizabeth knelt between them. She put her hands on their thighs, caressing slowly up and down from their knees to their groins, watching intently to see the first sign of stirring at their pricks. Elizabeth leaned closer and Richard could feel her hot breath on his bare leg: this, combined with the incessant, arousing movement of her fingers as they stole along his thigh, brought his sex slowly to erection-and she exclaimed greedily as the flesh thickened before her eyes, ignoring Spencer now, concentrating all her attention on the younger boy… slipping her hand beneath the tight elastic of his underpants and pressing her fingers into the warm, hairy skin on either side of Richard's stiffening cock.
“My!” Elizabeth whispered. “You are a horny darling, so big and strong-and I haven't even touched it yet, have I?”
She swiftly repaired this omission, tugging his briefs urgently over his hips and dragging them with unseemly haste down Richard's legs. The penis quivered, moving strongly in its excitement as Elizabeth brought her palms together around the shaft and closed them tightly in a praying attitude. Its dark-red crown and the pinker meat of its upper length bulged thickly from between the woman's fingers: gathering a fresh surge of power as it felt the warm, massaging pressure against its middle. With deliberate slowness, Elizabeth began to rub the cock in her hands. She brought it away from Richard's belly, forcing the swollen dart to thrust at an acute angle from the boy's abdomen-sticking out almost horizontally, the hard flesh jerking in fierce protest but unable to escape from her firm, kneading clasp.
Elizabeth held his prick in this position for several moments, relishing the power she was exerting over his proud virility. Then, still keeping one hand wrapped securely around the shaft, she proceeded to tuck Richard's sex between her thighs! A flush of pain went through him as his penis was eased under the woman's legs and made to rear up thickly against her trouser-covered cunt. But Richard controlled himself, refusing to give voice to his discomfort, staring down as the swollen, erecting cock disappeared from view and Elizabeth moved her hand from it.
The crisp white linen of her trousers made the boy's prick throb violently: through the material he could feel her compressed slit-its fleshy lips writhing gently on top of his weapon-and Richard boldly put his hands on Elizabeth's bottom, fondling the cheeks immediately his fingers came to rest on her arse-globes; pulling the woman more tightly against him and returning the hot, taunting stare of her eyes.
Elizabeth smiled, already well satisfied with her new “discovery”. She unbuttoned her shirt but left the garment closed across her breasts, although the deep inner curve of the spheres swelled proudly into view-the pink rims of her nipples also poking nudely out-as Elizabeth raised both her arms and began to wiggle her hips, rocking her body backwards and forwards in a mocking “dry-fuck” that brought beads of perspiration to Richard's forehead.
Slowly, like a particularly sensuous stripteaser, the woman shrugged her shoulders until the shirt slipped reluctantly over them, then fell backwards to the floor behind her. She lifted her arms again: offering the smooth, hairless hollows to Richard's mouth-swaying the right side of her body towards him so that he couldn't mistake her invitation. Still caressing her buttocks, Richard buried his lips in Elizabeth's armpit. He kissed the warm, perfumed flesh, his nose nudging into the hollow and his tongue stealing out to lick around and around-tormenting the sensitive skin until the woman writhed and sobbed with pleasure. But she kept her arms high above her head, forcing herself to submit to the wet tickling, squeezing her thighs sharply together and compressing the boy's cock in her beautiful anguish.
Spencer evidently knew what was expected of him, for he came to Elizabeth's side and, stooping, pressed his mouth into her other armpit! Together, Richard and Spencer gave the nympho a resounding, prolonged kissing and licking; their tongues working into the now-salty-tasting flesh and making the woman moan in wild, gasping cries that raised their own lust to a tense urgency.
Richard moved his face first. He sucked down the soft skin until his lips were moving deeply into Elizabeth's right breast, and when they came to the stiff protuberance of her teat his mouth seized the nipple violently, gripping the red stalk and stretching it hungrily between his teeth. Spencer followed suit: and now they were both feasting on her titties-pulling at the globes and forcing them to swing away from each other, their firm flesh distended, their teats elongated in two inch-long crimson buds.
Elizabeth shuddered ecstatically. She continued to clench and unclench the muscles of her thighs-giving Richard's tightly-held knob a tremendously fervent wanking. When she finally released it, the penis was stained to an angry crimson; slapping back against the boy's belly and glowing with a fierce, mottled power.
Gasping and shivering with lust, the woman stood with her legs spaced widely apart, the limbs shuddering inside her skin-tight slacks, waiting while Richard and Spencer fumbled them down her thighs. As he tugged the waistband over her pubis, Richard saw that his assumption was correct: Elizabeth wore no panties, and her mons veneris was extremely well-pronounced. Protected by a triangular bush of ginger hair, the hard mound formed a thick, curving portico to the wet, fishy-smelling slit which gaped below it; a gash which was already bubbling with come-traces of the colourless, pungent fluid glistening down the flesh of her inner thighs. Directly the slacks were completely removed, Elizabeth sank on her knees in front of the boys. She brought her head urgently down on Richard's cock, slithering her lips along the fat shaft as it entered her mouth and then sucking wildly on the knob-grunting and hissing between her teeth as it twitched in a vigorous pulsing under her tongue…
When she had feasted long enough on this penis, another one was awaiting her pleasure!
Spencer quickly thrust his larger, thicker shaft into Elizabeth's face-and when she had gobbled it completely within her mouth, he grinned at Richard, nudging the boy over the woman's bobbing head and holding his thumb up in a victory sign!
Richard refused to acknowledge the smile or the gesture. He felt suddenly ashamed that he was a party to this scheme: taking advantage of Elizabeth's craving for young men in order to tide them over a difficult financial period. It was degrading, somehow… and the correct word for what they were doing flashed into his mind, turning his shame to anger. They weren't gigolos. That was too respectable a word for what he and Spencer had become. No, an apter phrase was “male prostitutes!”
His brow darkened and his disgust manifested itself in a sudden urge to spoil the plan which they had so carefully hatched. It was clear to Richard that Elizabeth wanted to dominate the love-play. She obviously derived a great deal of her pleasure from forcing her lovers to submit to her positions: metaphorically snapping her fingers as if they were hounds on a leash…
Very well! He would wreck their chances of an easy, self-indulgent life in London by refusing to cooperate!
While Elizabeth was still busy with Spencer-her lips smacking loudly as they slid lustily up and down the boy's throbbing, strongly erect cock-Richard moved stealthily behind the woman. He slid his arms around her waist, sinking his fingers into the softness of her belly, and heaved violently!
There was a gulping, slurping noise as Elisabeth's mouth came abruptly away from Spencer's prick, followed by a sharp, angry cry of protest.
“You little bastard! What the hell do you think-”
Richard twisted her over onto her back and the full weight of his body crushing down on top of Elizabeth smothered the rest of her outraged shout. Before she could resist him, he had forced open her legs-lunging his cock up between her thighs and pinning her to the carpet, his strong young hands grasping her wrists and holding the woman's arms flat above her head.
Richard was prepared for a desperate struggle, but Elizabeth suddenly went limp: her body relaxing under him and her flashing green eyes softening and becoming moist with a new kind of desire.
“Oh, you bad boy!” she breathed. “You couldn't wait, could you? You had to take me now-while your prick was burning so hotly! And I'm so helpless!” Elizabeth said faintly, her expression pleading and vulnerable. “You could do anything you wanted with my body, couldn't you? Please treat me gently, don't fuck me too roughly, my darling! I promise not to struggle…”
It was hopeless. Richard realised that with this kind of jaded, insatiable sophisticate, any form of kinky behaviour was acceptable: especially the pretence that she was a demure young innocent about to be raped!
But he couldn't stop now. His own lust was boiling through his loins, heating his cock and making it yearn to sink deeply into a wet, tightly-squeezing cunt. He jabbed the crown of his sex forward-ramming it past the invitingly parted lips of the woman's quim, crying savagely as it entered the slit and fucked higher and higher into the juicily-moist hole…
“Ahhh! Ahhh, darling! More gently… please, oh, don't treat my poor pussy so cruelly!”
Her voice told Richard that she meant exactly the opposite-and he made a piston of his cock; working it in and out of her dribbling cunt until Elizabeth slurred her enticing endearments, the words becoming a low, grateful moaning-punctuated with sharper cries as he fucked in a wide, sweeping arc, screwing the length of his sex so that it turned thickly around; stirring into the wet pudding of her quim and provoking the woman into a series of swift, violent climaxes…
But Elizabeth wasn't satisfied with this one-man fucking-however pleasurable and tinged with overtones of rape it might be. She summoned Spencer to her side with an imperious inclination of her forefinger, and turned her head to greet his prick as the boy crouched down and offered his well-sucked weapon to her mouth. It sank between Elizabeth's lips again-a grateful sigh escaping her as she felt the two most sensitive orifices of her body being filled with thick male meat!
Spencer's testicles were fondled until they ached by her inquisitive fingers, the nail of one digit scratching persistently at the thin fold of skin at the hilt of his cock; tormenting him ceaselessly until the boy suddenly jetted out a stream of spunk-straining urgently forward, the hairy base of his knob pressed to Elizabeth's mouth, while the sperm gushed down the woman's throat.
The taste of his ammonia-flavoured seed sent her into a near-hysterical frenzy: and as Elizabeth sucked Spencer's prick, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of the thick spunk it was ejaculating, she bounced madly up and down beneath Richard's fucking loins-her buttocks rising from the carpet and her crotch pulsating so rapidly that her young stud felt his juice rising in answer to the woman's crisis-
He rode with punishing, brutal strokes into her cunt, trying to fuck in and out as many times as possible before the orgasm erupted, finally shaking and sobbing as the mighty wave of climax took possession of his body and carried him into a white-hot haze of ecstasy.
Richard's spending was glorious and sustained. He hammered again and again at Elizabeth's slit, pouring his rich milk into the red hole, wanting to fill her with the cream until it ran out of her mouth and her ears…
But the victory belonged to Elizabeth. As he collapsed, drained of sperm and energy, across the woman's body, Richard knew that she was well-content with his performance. Instead of forcing her to reject him, he had won his spurs in her estimation: showing himself to be a worthy addition to her “stable” of well-paid lovers!
All right, he vowed angrily. If that's what she wants, then I'll be the best damned cowboy she's ever had! I'll fuck her day and night-until her cunt is so sore that she screams for me to stop! And I'll take her bloody money and her presents… I'll earn them, and I'll enjoy them! What does it really matter, anyway? Beirut was just a dream, a schoolboy's fantasy! I'd starve out there-or be shipped home by the fucking Consulate! Lisa can manage on her own. She's got Miss Wynter to take care of her… and now I've found someone to look after me!
A transformation was etched into Richard's features as he made this promise to himself. The eyes now lost their final trace of wistful innocence; the mouth set into what was to become a permanent, cynical hardness. He knew, for one brief, disappearing moment, that he was tasting the bitter fruit of corruption… but that insight quickly faded, leaving him determined to enjoy his new life to the full-no matter what price he had to pay for Elizabeth's patronage…
Sullen-faced, Richard forced his tired body into alertness and prepared to fuck his mistress again.