by Various
‘Nothing so exciting. Boyfriend at Durham University and I can’t afford the train fare.’
‘So that’s what makes you risk your life. Hormones.’ He steered the lorry out onto the road. ‘We like to think we’re civilised and rational but underneath the surface we’re all still animals, driven by instinct and ruled by nature.’ He turned to look at me and, in the half-light of the cab, all I could see clearly were his gold tooth and his glistening eyes. I looked away. Prickly fingers of excitement trailed over my scalp.
‘What’s in the back? Anything exciting?’
‘Actually, this is a beast wagon – adapted to carry animal cages. I’m with a circus,’ he added, when he saw the confused look on my face.
‘A circus? So you’re a lion tamer?’
‘Among other things. In a circus you have to do a bit of everything. I do some knife-throwing and blade-glomming – that’s sword-swallowing to you. And I’m not bad on the trapeze. But it’s the animals I really love.’
‘Is that how you got the scars on your arm?’
He nodded. ‘And the rest. Hazard of the job. Haven’t we all got them?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. My dad manages a medical equipment factory. The only industrial injury he’s likely to get is a paper cut.’
‘Wouldn’t suit me. Can’t bear to be tied down.’ Johnny smiled at me and his gold tooth came into view. I found myself wondering what it would feel like to run the tip of my tongue around the contour of the gleaming metal, feeling the heat of his breath on my face and slowly, slowly opening my mouth until we were kissing. He smiled again and the expression in his eyes was so direct that I could have sworn he knew what I was thinking.
In the confined space of the cab, I quickly grew warm and began to relax. I took off my coat and curled my legs under me. Sitting so close to Johnny I could smell the leather of his waistcoat and an underlying, powerful aroma that I couldn’t quite place. There was the normal musky smell of man but, underneath it, something strange and feral that was as intoxicating as it was unusual.
We talked most of the way to Durham. He was funny and interesting and surprisingly well-educated for someone who’d never really been to school. He told me about his life in the circus. His dad had been a knife-thrower and his mother had done a horseback act. He’d spent his childhood travelling with them from town to town, always on the move all over Europe. He spoke half a dozen languages tolerably well and had never lived in one place for more than a month. He’d always been drawn to the animals, had got himself apprenticed to the lion tamer and had slowly learned his craft. Now he had a part-share in the circus.
And all the while he spoke I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I wouldn’t have called him handsome, but his angular face made him seem masculine and powerful – like the heads of those American presidents carved into the side of Mount Rushmore. I tried not to make it obvious I was staring but the way his eyes followed me I was pretty sure he knew that I was checking out his hard, wiry body as well.
His thighs were long and lean and, when he moved his foot on the accelerator, I could see the muscles tense. I tried hard not to look at the point where his long legs met but somehow I couldn’t help myself. The crotch beneath his tight jeans seemed to bulge with a promise that made me blush so hard I prayed he wouldn’t notice. But, when I looked up, I realised he was still staring at me.
‘Where’s the rest of the circus? Don’t you usually travel together?’ I asked to cover the silence that was growing increasingly embarrassing.
‘Usually we do, yes. But one of my lionesses was sick and I didn’t want to move her. I stayed on a couple of days.’
‘So there are lions in the back?’
‘Tigers too and a leopardess. I did tell you it was a beast wagon.’
‘You did. Somehow it just didn’t occur to me that we were riding along with wild animals in the back.’ I shivered.
‘Not just in the back.’ He winked.
‘Is this where you tell me you’ve got the heart of a lion and a python in your trousers?’
‘Actually, it’s probably more of an adder than a python, but no one ever complains.’ He looked at me for so long that I began to worry we might crash into the vehicle ahead, but I couldn’t look away.
‘Didn’t you tell me earlier it was rude to stare?’ I asked finally. ‘Get your eyes back on the road before we end up a traffic statistic.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ He drove in silence for a while.
We’d left the A1 and were on the outskirts of Durham. I watched Johnny’s long fingers cradling the wheel. My eyes strayed to the long scar running up the underside of his right arm and disappearing beneath his sleeve. I remembered the feel of it, shiny and hard, under my greedy fingertips and allowed myself to imagine exploring it with my lips then slowly taking off his clothes and exploring the rest of him in the same way.
I was acutely aware of my body beneath my clothes. My nipples were erect and sensitive and heat and tension pulled at the base of my belly. I looked away.
‘How would you feel about a little diversion? I promise I’ll drive you all the way to your boyfriend’s doorstep afterwards.’
The mention of Mike should have made me feel guilty but it just served to make my secret fantasies all the more sweet. ‘What have you got in mind?’ I asked, trying to sound casual.
‘The girls need their freedom. They get restless and agitated when they’re locked up for too long. Come with me to the pitch and let me unload them. Then, I promise, I’ll deliver you straight to your undeserving boyfriend.’
‘What makes you think he’s undeserving? He might be wonderful, for all you know.’
Johnny slowly shook his head. ‘No, he’s an idiot. Otherwise he’d have gone to Cambridge with you. Woman like you … I wouldn’t let you out of my sight. Any Tom, Dick or Harry could try it on with you.’ He turned to look at me and a flash of someone’s headlights lit up his face, making his eyes and his gold tooth gleam.
‘Don’t you mean Tom, Dick or Johnny? Though, personally, I think I prefer the sound of Dick …’
He laughed. Though I hadn’t actually said yes, I wasn’t surprised when Johnny turned off the main road before we entered the city.
‘What’s it like, living on the road? Don’t you miss a real home and proper plumbing?’
Johnny shook his head. ‘Only a josser would say that – jossers are what circus people call the rest of you. I’ve got a real home; it just isn’t made out of bricks and mortar. It’s even got a flush toilet.’ He smiled again and I wished he’d stop it. Every time he did it blood rushed to my head. And not just to my head, if I was honest.
I kept my eyes on the road after that, trying as hard as I could to keep my mind off my obvious attraction to Johnny. I thought about Mike, waiting for me at the university with a week’s worth of pent-up lust and longing zipped up behind his flies, but I couldn’t fool myself that my pounding heart and damp knickers had anything to do with him.
‘Here we are,’ said Johnny, ‘up ahead in that field.’
I peered into the distance and could just make out a collection of winking lights. As we drew closer, I saw the shapes of caravans and trailers and, finally, the outline of the huge, white big top. It seemed to be lit from within and gleamed with a golden glow like a giant paper lantern. The knot of excitement that had settled beneath my ribs gripped a little tighter and was matched by a similar tight heat lower down.
‘It looks … it looks like fairyland.’
‘That’s the magic of the circus. The roar of the greasepaint, the smell of the crowd.’
As we approached the field someone came and opened the gate for us. Johnny expertly steered behind the big top to where a raggedy line of trucks and trailers were parked. He turned off the engine and we were surrounded by a group of people, dark shapes in the dim light. He opened his door and jumped down then came round to my side to help me down. When I reached the bottom of the truck’s steps I found myself face to chest with the t
allest man I had ever seen. He stuck out a hand and I shook it, trying not to grimace as his strong grip crushed my knuckles.
‘This is Jim,’ said Johnny. ‘He’s the second-tallest man in Europe.’
‘Only the second? Who’s the first?’ Before either of them could answer I felt someone tugging at my jacket and looked down to see a man who barely reached my waist.
‘Well it certainly isn’t me,’ he said, standing on tiptoes.
‘And this is Franco,’ Johnny introduced him. ‘Let’s get the girls unloaded and settled, everyone.’ The group swung into action. Johnny unhooked the rear doors of the lorry. I heard the roar of distressed big cats and my stomach flipped from a mixture of fear and excitement. A ramp was dragged up to the back of the truck and chains attached to the cages; everyone lined up to haul them down the ramp.
In the first cage were two huge lionesses with their hackles up. They growled as their temporary home slid down the ramp. As their cage reached the ground a gust of breeze blew in my direction and the smell of the big cats reached me; my nipples instantly hardened as I recognised the feral, exhilarating aroma I had smelt on Johnny.
I watched him supervising the unloading. When he hauled on the chain or jumped down from the truck he moved with the effortless, powerful ease of man used to hard, physical work. But there was also something supple and graceful about him, like a dancer or an acrobat – which perhaps he was, for all I knew.
The crew unloaded three more cages from the truck, a huge lion, two magnificent striped tigers and a leopardess who clearly hadn’t enjoyed her incarceration. She hissed and lashed out as they manhandled her cage. I watched Johnny kneel down beside her, his face so close to the bars that she could easily have ripped it off, and softly talk to her.
Even though I couldn’t hear what he was saying, the soft murmur of his words and the look of total concentration and tenderness on his face sent jolts and shivers around my body like bonfire night fireworks. When the leopardess finally lay down and rolled over onto her back like a kitten eager to have her belly rubbed I felt like joining her.
One by one the cages were loaded onto wheeled trolleys and taken to a large tent beside the big top. As the last of them was rolled away Johnny came over to me. He was slightly out of breath from the effort of unloading the animals. I could see his chest heaving and sweat gleamed on his throat. I had to fight the urge to lean forwards and lick his salty skin clean. Maybe he knew what I was thinking because he smiled and held out his hand. I took it wordlessly and allowed him to lead me into the tent.
I looked around at the interior of the tent. It was obviously used for storage. Beside the cages there were sacks of animal food and bales of straw together with various pieces of circus equipment. There was a brightly painted clown car, a rack of colourful costumes and a huge cannon with flames painted around the rim of its barrel. ‘What’s that for?’ I asked.
‘Franco does a human cannonball act.’ The way Johnny said it he could just as easily have been saying that Franco was a bus conductor or an accountant.
‘Isn’t that dangerous?’
Johnny laughed. ‘It’s obvious you’re a josser. Of course it’s dangerous. The circus is about danger. It’s all part of the appeal.’ He pulled on my hand and led me over to the side of the tent where a circular flat piece of equipment stood upright. He reached out and set the circle spinning. I realised it was the turntable knife-throwers use to spin their glamorous female assistants, then toss their knives just right so that they’d land between her spread limbs.
Johnny bent down and picked up a knife. He put his face right up against mine. I could feel his hot breath on my skin. His strong, animal scent was overpowering and thrilling. ‘The public want danger. They like the idea that you might miss.’ My legs were still trembling like mad, but I didn’t think fear was the cause.
I couldn’t help myself. I laid one hand against his ponytail, to pull his head closer. My mouth sought his lips but he pulled away. ‘Fancy having a go?’ he asked.
Without waiting for an answer he put the knife into his belt and caught my wrist. He brought it up to the turntable and fastened it with a leather strap and buckle built into the board. When I realised what he had in mind I began to panic. ‘You’re not serious? I might get hurt.’
He pushed me back against the board then trapped me there using the weight of his body. I couldn’t move. My heart was pounding. But, in spite of my fear, my nipples were rigid. Johnny reached up and stroked my hair. Sparks of pleasure prickled all over my scalp.
He put his mouth right beside my ear and began to whisper, using exactly the same tone he had when calming the agitated leopardess. ‘It’ll be all right. I’ll take care of you. You’re perfectly safe. I’d never hurt you. All you’ve got to do is trust me. OK?’
I brought up my free hand and pulled his head down for a kiss and this time he didn’t resist. His mouth was hot and silky, but the contact was all too brief. He broke the kiss and stepped away, waiting for my response. I looked him straight in the eye and flattened my back against the turntable. I spread my legs, positioning my feet over the ankle cuffs, then brought up my free hand and laid my wrist inside the strap.
No more words were necessary. Johnny bent down to fasten the ankle cuffs. His head was about level with my crotch and I was acutely aware of the heat and growing moisture there.
When he stood up to fit the wrist cuff his breathing was as loud and ragged as my own and I noticed that his hands were trembling. He bent down to pick up the rest of the knives then got up and walked away. He turned round to face me and I instantly saw that he had an erection. ‘Your cock’s hard,’ I said.
‘Yes, it is. But, don’t worry, it doesn’t affect my aim.’ He tossed a knife straight at me and it landed between my legs with a thud before I’d even had the chance to be really afraid. He threw another and it landed in the space between my arm and leg. I could feel the impact as its tip pierced the board. Adrenaline wooshed around my body like a drug rush. He tossed one knife after another, each one of them landing in the board with a loud thump that cranked my excitement up a notch.
The final knife landed high up between my spread legs, almost as high as the hem of my miniskirt. Johnny was out of breath but clearly pleased with himself, because he couldn’t stop smiling. He walked over to me and collected the knives, pulling them out of the wooden board and sliding them into his belt. ‘How was it for you, darling?’ he asked as he extracted the final knife from between my legs.
‘It was … incredible. Exhilarating and terrifying at the same time, if you know what I mean?’ I looked at him and he nodded. ‘In a funny way I felt … oh, I don’t know … twice as alive. Does that make sense?’
‘Oh, yes.’ He ran the tip of one finger along my lower lip and my skin instantly rose into goose pimples. ‘Dicing with death can do that to a person.’ Johnny set the board spinning and I was instantly disorientated. The interior of the tent seemed to flash by in a series of images that my brain didn’t have time to make sense of. I couldn’t work out whether I was up or down and I could hear the wind gushing by as the turntable spun. My senses went into overdrive. I could smell the animals, dung, straw and, underneath it all, the earthy scent of the ground beneath us.
The board seemed to jolt for a second, making a momentary judder and I realised that Johnny had thrown a knife. I had no idea where it had landed, but I knew I wasn’t hurt. The turntable juddered again and again as knife after knife hit the board. I heard the sound of splintering wood beside my head. The lion roared.
Slowly the spinning slowed and I was able to make sense of the images hurtling past me. I could see the animal cages, then the white roof of the tent billowing above us, then the higgledy-piggledy collection of circus equipment, and finally Johnny standing still and looking at me. When the board came to rest I was horizontal, my head and feet on the same level. I was breathless and trembling. ‘Come and turn me the right way up,’ I gasped.
‘Whatever you
say.’ Johnny ambled over as if there was no urgency at all. He rotated the turntable until my feet were pointing at the sky.
‘That’s not the right way up.’
‘No? Are you sure?’ He carefully folded down my skirt, revealing the top of my tights. He stroked my Lycra-covered pussy with the flat of his hand, cupping it for a moment in his hot palm. I sighed. He pulled the nearest knife out of the board and used it to cut away the crotch of my tights.
‘Oh, this isn’t fair.’ I struggled against the cuffs. All the blood had rushed to my head and I knew I had straw in my hair.
He carefully peeled the wet crotch of my knickers away from my body and used the knife to slit it. I felt the cold air against my naked pussy and, a moment later, his hot mouth. I gasped. I felt his tongue trace the length of my slit, quickly followed by his strong fingers pulling my lips apart.
I could feel his rough moustache prickling my sensitive skin and his hot slithering tongue exploring my wet cleft. It was wonderful. It was agony. I longed to be able to touch him. I struggled and the board shook noisily
He stopped licking. ‘No point fighting. Those cuffs are strong …’ He sucked my clit into his mouth and flicked his tongue over the sensitive tip. My body jolted and the back of my head cracked against the turntable. He lifted his head again. ‘Relax, Jo. Relax –’ he kissed my pussy ‘– and surrender.’ Again he used the same tone as when he was calming the big cats and I tingled all over.
‘OK,’ I gasped between moans, ‘I get the message. You’re in charge. I give in.’ I felt his thumbs massaging either side of my clit as the point of his tongue flicked across the tip.
‘I always knew you would …’ he murmured. Johnny lavished my pussy with loving attention. He pressed his muscular tongue up against my opening and pushed it inside. He sucked each labia in turn into his mouth and gently nibbled on it. He slowly licked the entire length of my slit from top to bottom, not forgetting to explore the wrinkled, secret rosebud of my arsehole.
