Lust Quest by Ray Gordon Read Free Book Online Page B

men have been ... You never fingered and licked my bottom.”
    “Is that what you're into now?”
    “You bet I am. I suppose we weren't compatible. Perhaps we were too young.”
    “We're older now, Jade.”
    “Older and wiser. Give me a ring some time.”
    “Yes, I will.”
    “Right, I have a lot of work to do. The money's been pouring in,” I lied.
    “Things are really looking good.”
    “I'm pleased to hear it,” he smiled, finishing his coffee. “I'll ring you, then.”
    “You do that.”
     
    Seeing him to the door, I felt a mixture of emotions. I felt sorry for him, I felt like a tart, and I was overwhelmed by a terrific sense of elation. Tasting his sperm on my lips as I closed the door, I pondered on my book. At least I was a little more confident now. Not only confident about writing erotic fiction, but confident with myself. Two Alans? I reflected, imagining sucking two knobs at once. I couldn't believe that I'd sucked two men to orgasm within a matter of hours. At this rate, I'd be bashing out chapter after chapter of unadulterated filth. I was set to be a pornographess.
     
    At this rate? Which sexual act would I experience next? I wondered. I wasn't out to experience every crude act imaginable. Alan the musician had been a one-off.
    And as for Alan the ex ... I felt that the situation was running away with me, soaring out of control. All this because David had suggested I write erotic fiction, I reflected.
    50
    It was probably best to forget about both Alans. Was it best to forget about my clitoris and masturbation? Definitely not, I concluded as I poured myself another cup of coffee. Again pondering on anilingus as the phone rang, I tried to imagine what it would be like to have my bottom-hole licked. Quite pleasurable , I decided, realizing that my panties were becoming very wet.
     
    “Jade, David Stevens,” the dark brown voice breathed as I answered the phone. “I've put a book in the post for you.”
    “Another dirty one?” I asked, rather too expectantly.
    “No. Well, not really. It's a dictionary of naughty words.”
    “Smutty
    words?”
    “No, no. Proper words such as huffle.”
    “What on earth does that mean?”
    “Shagging someone's armpit, to put it bluntly.”
    “Fascinating, I must say. And this book's going to help me write erotica?”
    “If nothing else, it might give you some ideas. By the way, I was talking to a publisher this morning. I mentioned you and he came up with an idea.”
    “Oh?”
    “A diary of a Victorian lady. You know, what she got up to sexually and the like. We thought you might include letters in the book and ...”
    “That's a dreadful idea, David,” I returned, recalling Jackie mentioning a book in the form of diaries. “Besides, I've already started the novel,” I blurted out.
    “Great! What's it about?”
    “Sex, what else?”
    “Give me a rough outline.”
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    “I'm not saying anything. You'll read it when I'm ready.”
    “The first two chapters, that's all I need to ...”
    “When they're ready, you'll have them.”
    “OK. Get off the phone and hammer that keyboard.”
    “I will. Speak to you soon.”
     
    Hammer the keyboard? Hammer out filth? Feeling that I was losing my bearings in life, I began to wish that I'd never met David. He'd put ideas into my head, ideas that were haunting me, rattling around in the back of my mind and confusing me. I'd always been strong, known what I'd wanted and gone for it. As with the romantic novel, I reflected dolefully. I'd thought I'd known what I'd wanted only to waste three years chasing a dream. Perhaps I did need someone like David to guide me in the right direction.
     
    Mooching into my den, I hammered the keyboard for an hour or so and then read my work from the beginning. There was a story, of sorts, but it was weak. The plot was obviously nothing more than a vehicle to carry the sex. Grabbing the mouse, I made a rash decision and deleted all I'd written. “Truth is stranger than