Read Lust on the Loose for Free Online

shall we do it?'
    'Well—'
    'I rather
fancied the bathroom, meself. Come on.' And she thrust her empty
glass at him and set off, leaving him to follow.
    Somewhat
bemused by the turn of events Billy grabbed the bottle and headed
after her through the door of the sitting-room and into the
bedroom. The room was empty but the sound of running water from
behind the door in the far corner betrayed Ms Pert's whereabouts.
The door opened a few degrees and Tracy's head popped out.
    'Have you ever
interviewed anyone in the bath before?' A slim naked leg appeared
from behind the door, the foot prettily pointed, fuscia pink
toenails gleaming. 'Give me a minute,' she said, 'then I'm all
yours.' Head and leg then vanished.
    Billy looked
frantically round the room. Evidently he had been mistaken for a
reporter about to do an interview and in that capacity he was
missing a couple of vital accessories. He put the champagne and
glasses amongst the clutter on the dressing-table and searched his
pockets in vain. Whatever the virtues of Gio. Armani suits they do
not come equipped with pencil and paper.
    'OK, Maurice,'
came Tracy's voice, 'I'm ready.'
    Billy grabbed
the phone pad and pen from the bedside table, snatched up the
champagne and stepped eagerly into the bathroom. Whoever this
Maurice was, he was missing out.
    Tracy Pert, Britain's Bustiest Beauty (according to the Dog ), was reclining in an
enormous bathtub filled almost to the brim with steaming froth.
Only her beaming face rose impishly above the bubbles and, to
Billy's heartfelt disappointment, of the National Treasure Chest
there was no sign. Yet the thought of what pink and succulent
feminine delights were concealed by a mere carpet of foam set his
imagination racing. As he sat on the stool at the side of the bath
he smiled his best wolfish smile and handed her a replenished
glass.
    'What do you
think?' she said, stretching out one rosy arm to take her drink. 'I
read that all the big stars do this so I got some bubble bath
special. Only don't tell Pandora. Cheers!'
    They clinked
glasses conspiratorially, Billy ogling the dimpled hollows of her
throat as the steam rose and the bubbles popped around them. What
Maurice may say to Pandora he had no idea but he, Billy Dazzle, was
on a separate mission and so far he was doing brilliantly. All that
he desired was in his grasp, so to speak.
    'Right, Tracy,' he began, 'tell me all about your role
in Two-way Letch :
That was the title of the TV sitcom she was shooting - he knew that
much.
    'Oh Gawd,' she
moaned, 'must I? It's only a walk-on, more of a wobble-on, if you
ask me. They didn't hire Tracy Pert the actress, they hired a pair
of charlies. As I see it, I'm being exploited.'
    'Oh dear,'
said Billy sympathetically, recharging her glass. The bubbles were
bursting fast now. Delectable areas of Tracy-flesh were gradually
inching into view. 'But if you think that, how do you feel about
the glamour photos that have made you famous?'
    'Oh, I love
them, they brought me millions of fans. But that's all in the past,
now I want a proper career to fulfil me as an artist and a
woman.'
    Billy loosened
his tie. The heat in the small room was stifling. He was sure he
could just make out the tip of one delicate pink nipple bobbing in
the surf. He continued his Maurice act, pretending to scribble
notes as he did so.
    'I understand
your agent is about to launch you into a whole new career.'
    'Oh yeah? On
my fat fanny! She's the one who's holding me back. She's got all
these fancy people on her books and they get all the high-class
gigs. Me, I just get the wobble-ons.'
    And Tracy
polished off her third - or was it her fourth - glass of champagne,
banging the receptacle down on the tiles dangerously as she warmed
to her theme. Billy had spotted the second nipple now, its pretty
crinkled nose peeping out of the foam, while beneath the suds the
bulk of her entrancing bosom lay as yet unseen.
    'Do you know,' she said, 'she's organising this big charity
gala