The Jim Morrison Heist Pt. 03

The stitched leather headband with two feathers in back of her head evoked a native American Indian motif. Jallen doubted this babe would know the difference between an Indian reservation casino in Montana and Les Ambassadeurs in Mayfair. Like Zoey, she wore more eye make-up than a hooker or a kid playing with mum's cosmetics while mum made a quick run to the greengrocer. Her pouting red lips pursed, ready to chat Jallen up, or suck hard enough to put a dent in his forehead. With every step her naked breasts moved with insouciance under a beaded vest, the vista below her belly button a luscious garden of superlatives. Jallen met the brunette's gaze evenly and held it. The closer she got to him, the more the tingling in his loins increased, a red flag but not one to let trouble him now. He'd never grown complacent with the variety of females he had attracted young and old, but this honey ruled them all.

Zoey couldn't've picked a better time to busy herself at the card table. Jallen wouldn't be surprised if James Bondage had his hand up her skirt by now. But he wouldn't be the only one getting his fingers wet. With a final shaking of abundant flesh the brunette drew to a stop right in front of him. Jallen smiled, she returned it. He fought the overpowering urge to glance downward to sneak a surreptitious peek at her crotch, but up this close to any woman it was unadvisable during the first impression phase, not if he wanted to make a new friend anyway. The brunette would notice and it could well be game over before he even made his pitch.

When the girl in the Indian costume didn't speak, he said, "To me, women always look better across a room than close up, but you're an exception."

He extended a friendly hand to shake hers. They shook and the mere touch of her hand sent another thrilling surge through his wedding tackle.

The girl said, "Aww, now that was sweet. And original. Usually I get a cliché."

"I write all my own dialogue," he declared.

"I thought I knew you," she said with no apparent disappointment, "but you're not him."

He refused to be rattled by such an obvious challenge and shrugged. "It would have been a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, we can still meet. This is, after all, a social gathering."

"That it is. I'm Jallen Delete, professor, Hogfarts Magick College."

"Dripping Spring, freshman, Knightsbridge U."

"Charmed," he said, and raised the back of her hand to his lips. This permitted the cautious glance down he'd been waiting for. The reaction behind his zipper was unmistakable. He developed a lump in his throat too and struggled not swallow, another surefire tell that all women recognized and a definite no-no in sexual politics. Dripping Spring wore a curious pair of flamboyant crotchless pants that advertised a thong losing the battle to conceal the split bisecting her pussy. It hadn't been so apparent as she wove through the clusters of partygoers to talk to him. To encourage more conversation he asked, "So did you think I was somebody else from across the room?"

Her burst of laughter prompted a trembling of her wonderful breasts. Jallen almost saw one of her nipples. "You looked vaguely like an old friend of my dad's."

"Hope you're not disappointed." Old friend of her dad's. The cheek! He was only forty years older than the girl (forty-five or fifty tops) but, forewarned, knew better than to mention the fact. Before she could answer he steered the conversation in another direction: fact finding. "Are you here with a friend?"

"Plural. Friends. Fellow students at school."

"For me, that's a coincidence in reverse. I got invited by a student of mine."

She turned to peer around the room and sighed for effect. "Runesgate Manor is far from what I expected. Whoever heard of an underground mansion, and a circular one at that?"

"Very rum, yes, there's a satantic subtext in there somewhere. Before I set a foot inside Runesgate I knew a little hocus pocus would be simmering in a cauldron or two."

"What can you expect? Summer solstice, sex magick."

He shrugged. "Where have your friends got to?"

"They ran into some Jin Elikt guys they know. Those people are in charge of security for this blowout."

Just like the Hell's Angels at Altamont, thought Jallen, but didn't draw that analogy for Dripping Spring. She wouldn't know what the hell he was talking about. "You're not the first one that's told me that. I was under the impression the jigh-normous dog Pug and the Dan Dan Man were the bouncers here."

She made a face. "That old fart?"

"Pugmire is intimidating though, he's big as a Volkswagen."

"That is one huge bow wow. And don't forget about that horny gypsy with the sword and the shotgun in the parking lot."

"What parking lot? Still, they're two layers of security."

"I know what you mean, but my girls say Jin Elikt are the real muscle inside the premises."

He asked, "They're a magick sect secret society or some rubbish?"

"They're a bunch of goons is what they are. Brown shirts under any other name, getting their jollies beating the crap out of people."

"An unsettling common theme in history, been going on since Hitler, probably longer. I'm not old enough to know."

Zoey had told Jallen to beware of a certain Mssr. Noir. Could he be the boss man of Jin Elikt? These people were far more threatening than a Black Veil vampire. More unanswered questions stacked up in his head, but he didn't ask Dripping Spring any of them. Politics bored him; the top priority in his mind wasn't waging war but making love. Dripping Spring seemed more interested in that than Zoey, so love the one you're with.

The brunette girl sighed. "Guess it doesn't make that much difference, there's enough magickers at Runesgate to start a brand new country: Black Veils, witches, warlocks, sorcerers, Golden Dawns, wizards, you name it. But my girls wanted to go to this summer solstice thingy so here I am."

Jallen had nothing else to say on the subject, stared glumly at his feet then remembered Miss Dripping Spring's exciting thong. He tried not to be as obvious as her panties with the visible pubes squashed under the thin material. An uplifting thought.

He suggested, "Want to mingle, get a drink, both, none of the above?"

"Let's just walk around some and get to know each other."

"Works for me, do you want to lead the way?"

"Sure, you can follow me if you'd like."

He didn't mind that she took the lead because of the opportunity to check out the view from the rear. Before long Jallen got beside her and tested the water by taking her by the hand. She didn't disengage.

"Who are you here with, professor?"

"One of my students named Zoey invited me. She's very taken with cards obviously. Right now she's at a table trying to win some of Lady Rowling-Boyle's money. Do you know her?"

"Your student or milady?"

"Either one of them."

"I've heard of the Rowling-Boyle family but not your student. Would you feel comfortable pointing her out to me? I don't want to spoil any plans you and she might have later, especially if she sees you holding hands with me."

"I don't mind, I'm functioning in more of an escort capacity anyway. So she didn't have to be seen arriving alone, that sort of thing."

Jallen showed Dripping Spring the Seven Suits game. Now that the ball was in play he felt more anxious than he thought he would, not wanting to appear to be checking up on Zoey. But he had every right after she'd abandoned him. Still, his heart pounded like a bass drum in anticipation of what the reaction at the card table would be. The variables were plentiful: confrontation, totally ignoring him, a big scene. Fuck it!

When they arrived in the vicinity Jallen led his friend around the side of the table where they'd be able to see Zoey's face. From where Jallen stood he saw James Bondage and she sat next to each other. Zoey looked ill at ease and not comfortable.

Dripping Spring asked Jallen, "Which one is Zoey? Blonde braids, white dress?"

"That's her."

"She must be an expert at Seven Suits. That's a big chunk of change she's got in front of her."

"Her grandmother taught her."

Without embarrassment the brunette asked, "Are you doin' her?"

Jallen went noncommittal again. "That could cost me my job. They would sack me for fraternizing with any of the Hogfarts student body."

"Taking risks can be fun."

"Undeniably."

"And you are definitely doin' Zoey."

"Will you take no comment for an answer?"

Dripping Spring smiled, "I won't believe a word you say about her now."

Since no one playing Seven Suits paid them any mind Jallen kept on moving and talking with Dripping Spring. Had his heart skipped a beat when he saw Zoey? Had a knot formed in the pit of his stomach? Not at all, to his pleasant surprise. The fact made him feel good. Maybe his new friend would make him feel better still.

He tried to move the subject to friendlier ground. "What is it you're studying down at Knightsbridge U, Miss Spring?"

Dripping Spring's tongue touched her pouting lips. "Chaos Magick."

Jallen coughed politely. "How nice, that should pay well when you graduate. Anythin' else?"

"Ecstatic Gnostics."

He wrinkled his forehead. So this was old home week for her then. "Sounds like great fun. Remind me what the particulars of that are again?"

"Let me remember the definition I wrote down the first day of class." She cleared her throat. "Mindlessness achieved by sexual arousal induced by, but not limited to, frenetic dancing, odd metered drumming, chanting, hyperventilating, erotic flagellation, sensory overloading, love potions and disinhibitory or hallucinogenic drugs."

"Quite right. Having a little sensory overload about now myself."

"Brain fog, it will pass. Has anyone ever told you you talk like Sean Connery?"

"Occasionally, I'll take it as a compliment. You have a lovely name, Dripping Spring. It sounds American Indian and you don't have a British accent."

She said in an exaggerated drawl, "Born and raised in Dallas, Texas." Texas sounded like taxes. Jallen flashed back to the detour off the jungle trail for an instant, felt like a piece of ice touched the back of his neck. He purged the thought from his mind but not before thinking everything is interconnected.

"I take it Dripping Spring is not the name on your birth certificate."

"Gosh, no. It's a nickname one of my ex-boyfriends gave me."

"It has nothing to do with the feathers in your headband and the beaded vest and your . . .?" He hesitated, gazing at her trousers again.

"These are fringed leather chaps. Cowboys and Indians used to wear them in the old west."

"And they never looked so good. I thought that was a costume for the party." He tried not to stare at the lavender thong she wore underneath the chaps. The tiny thing didn't quite cover what it was supposed to cover. A fleshy labial flap had innocuously worked itself free of one side of her panties. No dearth of wardrobe malfunctions tonight.

Dripping Spring let a smile widen her mouth and did a slow 360 twirl for him. He'd already seen her backside. Her ass looked totally bare with the string in back of the thong concealed between scrumptious cheeks, like Zoey's had in his Hogfarts class when she'd shucked her panties and he'd been compelled to put them back on her. He thought of Dripping Spring's braless breasts scarcely hidden by the vest. They were as daring as Zoey's in her see-through dress. Dammit, why did he keep thinking about her with Dripping Spring now beaming at him?

"It's alright to stare, Jallen, chaps are supposed to be crotchless."

"Oh, I get it. Dripping Spring is what still confuses me though."

"Why don't you just call me Spring and so there'll be less confusion. And let me show you this." She clasped his left wrist to guide his hand inside the thong until it cupped her pussy. Then she squeezed her thighs together. Juice slicked the palm of Jallen's hand. "Now you know how I got my nickname."

He assured her he did indeed.

She made no move to detach his captive hand so he sunk a finger into her. Her pussy made a naughty wet sound as he slipped it in and out of her. Spring suggested they relocate away from so many people and Jallen had no objections. Spring took his dripping hand and led him back across the circular ballroom. Along the way they saw two girls in the classic 69 position on a Victorian couch as well as a chap rogering a woman bent forward over a tabletop, one of his thumbs out of sight in her anus.

Jallen and his new friend discovered a flight of stairs. They were not the same as the one down to the theatre.

"Wonder where this stairway goes?" he asked.

"To heaven maybe," she said.

"It leads down so maybe to hell, but let's do find out. Down you go."

Jallen got a good view of the top of Spring's head as they descended thirteen stairs, nine more than Gyp's wagon (he liked to count). At the bottom a dim deserted corridor led into darkness suitable enough to resume what they'd left off upstairs. He put his hand into her thong to continue fondling her dripping spring, backed her up against the rounded wall. With Jallen and her now facing each other any impropriety remained out of sight of potential prying eyes. Should any passersby walk through the hall they'd not notice his hand shoved between her thighs. They would appear to be a couple just conversing in a hallway. And the soaked Miss Spring made no effort to thwart the ambitions of his fingers. Her eyes glazed over before rolling upward, her heavily made-up blue eyelids closed shut in response to the carnal pleasure the industrious fingering Jallen gave her. The palm of his hand had gotten very wet when Spring finally stopped moaning to speak.

"You should take me to an empty room, the nearest one." She clenched him through the front of his pants to emphasize her point.

"Are you putty in my hand?" he said in her ear.

"Puddle is more like it. Please, baby, that feels so good." Breathless, she fumbled to unzip his pants.

"Why do you want to go into a room?"

"So I can have a little privacy to come all over your dick."

"We've seen other couples coupling with everybody else here watching already," he said to tease the girl.

"I may not play hard to get but I'm not an exhibitionist. Showing off my body doesn't bother me at all but when it comes to playing hide the weenie I like privacy, not lights out but you know what I mean. Please let's find a more low key place, even if it's a bathroom."

"We may not have that much time to locate a bed or a bog," he teased her. "My date might be hunting for me as we grope."

"I think we've got plenty of time, darling. Your date was winning big while we were there."

"Good luck doesn't last forever, you catch it in streaks."

Spring gasped when Jallen eased a finger back inside her. She gripped his hand to make sure he didn't move it away. He told her to let go and they'd find a little privacy. Now she wasn't in any hurry. "Okay, but in another minute or two."

They duly slunk down the hall, Spring on shaky legs, like she'd had too much to drink. Jallen intended to let the girl have something to drink, but nothing fizzy or alcoholic. He found a door set into the wall of the spiral corridor, twisted the doorknob and they went inside. Jallen saw no light switch but they found a lamp on a table. A hazy glow brightened the gloom, not too much, but vaguely romantic. To Spring's delight a narrow bed took up most of the space in the little room. She immediately began to strip off her vest. Her fully naked breasts did not disappoint. In the best breast department Spring and Zoey were equals. There you go again, mate.

"This is small as a servant's quarters," he said, "but serviceable." He removed his jacket and unknotted his tie. Off came his shirt and he kicked his loafers away from him, took down his trousers. He never expected to see his Brioni suit scattered on a floor. Everyday rules get trammeled under emergency conditions. Spring asked Jallen to remove his gel mask so she could see his face. After time the thing closed off pores in his skin and caused a smothering warmth. He eagerly complied.

Spring already sprawled on her back naked on the bed. "With a party going on upstairs we may have this room to ourselves for the rest of the night."

"Maybe we shouldn't be gone quite that long, love. What would your friends think?"

"They think sensibly, just like us. They're party girls and understand when the spirit moves a girl," Spring said. She spread the lips of her shaved pussy to encourage Jallen to finish undressing and mount her. "What will your lady friend think?" Et tu, Spring?

"I don't care really. She's attracted to the guy with her at the card table."

Spring asked, "Do you know who that guy is?"

"A woman at the table called him James Bondage. I don't think that's the name on his birth certificate either."

He crawled atop Spring and she guided him inside her. As he began thrusting into her, she said, "There is something I ought to tell you."

Jallen hoped she hadn't got the clap.

"Well, you know I said I didn't know your date but---"

He thrust ever harder. "But what?"

Spring's groans of pleasure punctuated what she had to say. "But I do know that James Bondage guy. Only that's not the name I know him by."

"Is that right?" he said, not interrupting his thrusts. "Anything I might want to know? The chap is quite rude."

"I'm not surprised. He's known as James Britton in Piccadilly Circus. All the girls call him the Cockney Cock, draw your own conclusions. One of my friends was fucking him. He's hung like a donkey, been with all the tarts. I hate to say it but, maybe he's been with your girl too."

Jallen banged Spring that much harder. "She's not my girl and I know he's been with Zoey."

"You may want to get Zoey away from him."

"Why's that?"

"You promise to keep this confidential? I wouldn't want him to get onto me through my friend who slept with him."

"I promise not to say a word. Not to Zoey, not anybody. She and I aren't exactly mates. And I don't want to go anywhere near Bondage. He's got five stone on me and's a head taller."

He really slammed into Spring's pelvis now, not that she complained. She began shuddering violently and had not one but a series of orgasms. As they caught their breath a few minutes later, Jallen asked why Zoey should get away from James Bondage.

"He's a bad gangster, strong arm man. He collects delinquent gambling debts, bouncer, an intimidator."

"A regular villain that one. Jin Elikt?"

"I didn't see him with the ones my friends know, but I wouldn't put it past James. He bragged to my girl friend he's a second story man into stolen goods, gun runner, safecracker, just different criminal occupations."

Jallen sat up in the bed. She dragged her nails down his naked back.

"Do you want to go a second round? I'm up for it if you are."

"I probably need to put in an appearance upstairs."

Spring rolled over on her tummy, got her knees under her and her ass high in the air. "Well, at least before you go please take a look at this." She spread the cheeks of her buttocks apart to better display her anus. Jallen got an immediate erection at the sight of that humid button of flesh in the valley of her ass. She winked it at him; poetry in another of its many forms.

"Spring, my darling, are you trying to tell me something?"

"Three hours ago I got out of a nice long hot bubble bath. For whatever adventures might lie ahead."

"Far-sighted."

"I spent a long long time getting every crack and crevice super shiny clean."

"Good hygiene, yes, always commendable."

"Now one of my crevices is itching and needs a tongue bath."

"A tongue is the cure then?"

"If nothing else it's relief. I can get just as down and dirty as you, but we're both going to have to give some If you tongue this I could get in the mood to let you put a larger object all the way inside. It just needs a coat of saliva sooo bad."