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Angel, Stripped Ch. 01

By: gradprof



I think this is going to be another series. Once again, thank you for the comments and feedback. You guys have really motivated me to write. Special thank you's go out to Dr. Lust and MyKittyStar, who took the time to edit my work. Both of you made some great suggestions. You also make this whole process so much more fun. Feel free to send me your thoughts. I will respond. I'd love to hear where you think this should go next. I am not sure myself. Don't forget to vote. Enjoy.

 The Sunday was progressing like any other. I was parked in the cafe at the local Barnes and Noble. Although I wasn't sitting behind my office desk, I was still buried under a mound of paperwork. I told myself, half-heartedly, that by getting the work done I was making my life easier next week. I wasn't, and I knew it. A new mound of paperwork would only replace the old, but still....

 ....That is when I saw her.

 She was sitting a couple of tables away from me, pouring over a magazine and blowing on a grande coffee. Her long, chestnut hair was pulled back into a pony-tail. A stray strand of her bangs had gotten loose. It fell in a curve, framing her delicate cheek bones. She looked to be in her mid-twenties and had an Italian complexion, full, red lips, big doe eyes, and a wicked half-smirk.    My eyes roamed over this woman, drinking her in. There was something intriguing about her that I couldn't escape. She had captured my imagination, and she didn't even know it. Now I was forced to sit and stare like an idiot. Who was she? What did she do? Why was I so damn smitten?

 I was intrigued. The woman dressed with an attractive flair, but wasn't showing off. She was content to fade into the throng of weekend customers in an anonymous suburban bookstore. Somehow that quiet comfort made her even more captivating. My heart raced as my eyes slid down her body. The slopes of her curves were visible under her grey turtleneck sweater, but they weren't on obvious display. Her black skirt was flowy and about ankle length.  Black leather boots completed her late-fall / early winter look. She was beautiful in an unassuming but put-together way.  And she had all the right flourishes. Everything added up to wow. 

 I watched as she took a tentative sip from her steaming cup. I almost chuckled to myself as she recoiled from the coffee's overwhelming heat. Her expression was adorable; it was the kind of look that someone makes when they think no one is paying attention. 

 Then a weird sensation hit me, a sort of deja vu: did I know this woman? She seemed familiar; there was something recognizable about her. I could feel my face tightening as I tried to place her. No luck; my memories were not cooperating. It felt like there was a fog that I could not poke through. She was on the other side, but all I could see was a silhouette. She looked up. 

 I quickly averted my eyes, instantly engrossed in the paperwork in front of me. I didn't want to be caught gawking. That would be rude. Besides, I was never comfortable approaching a stranger in a public place. The conversations that followed always felt so contrived and stilted. What would I say? "Do I know you? You look familiar." I couldn't think of anything cheesier.

 After a few seconds I looked up again. The woman was now looking off in the opposite direction, perhaps contemplating a muffin from the display case. She was regal and haunting in her beauty. I shrugged my shoulders and fell back to work. I probably didn't know her. And if so, oh well. Another missed opportunity....

 "Hey there. Do you mind if I join you?"

 I looked up. The mystery woman was standing there, towering over me. All I could do was blink.

 "Well?" she asked, laughter bubbling up in her voice.

 Still tongue tied, I nodded. I pushed my papers away and gestured to an empty seat.

 The woman pulled the chair from the table and sat down, crossing her legs. She smiled, looking into my eyes. A big grin lit on her face. The pearly whites of her teeth gleamed. 

 The woman spoke, "You ever been in one of those situations where you think you recognize somebody but you are not quite sure, so you just sit back and let the moment roll on? Maybe if you are lucky the other person makes the first move?"

 A grin lit up my face. I responded, "I think I know the kind of moment you are talking about."

 "You recognize me but you have no idea who I am. Am I right?" There was a playful lilt in her voice. This woman was toying with me.

 I sat up straight in my chair, studied the woman in front of me, and folded my hands on the table. I grimaced and shook my head; I was still clueless. There was something about her. I had the slightest whiff, the faintest taste, but that was all. "I hate to admit it, but you are one hundred percent on the mark," I replied.

 "I sometimes get that," she said with a slight laugh. The brunette beauty took a soft sip from her coffee cup. I could see her savor the bitter warmth as the liquid passed over her lips. She swished the fluid around in her mouth, before swallowing with relish. Then she winked at me. "I was dressed a little differently," she said.

 "Oh?" I said, waiting for her to continue.

 Demurely looking down, she toyed with the coffee stirrer. The woman's hand ran along the top of her thigh, smoothing this soft fabric of her skirt. Then she looked up and said, her eyes twinkling in the moment, "The Glass Slipper. You might remember me as Alexia."

 Suddenly I was transported. 

*****     Two and a half years ago.  I was sitting on a worn and ratty love seat in a small back room. It was curtained off of a hallway by several strings of shimmering, plastic beads. AC/DC's "Shook me all Night Long" revved and pulsed over a slightly muffled sound system. I could feel my heart throb along to Angus Young's driving guitar. My pulse quickened with anticipation. It wouldn't be long now. She just needed to let the bouncer know that we were having a private dance in the champagne room – and then heaven.

 While lap dances were nothing new to me, I had never been to the back room before. I was feverish with anticipation. What was going to happen? Why was this room more costly and thus more special? Yeah, I had heard Chris Rock's admonishment about the lack of sex in strip club Champagne rooms. I was probably just another sucker; but a guy could hope couldn't he?

 There was just enough light to see. The room was lit from the floor by a purple bulb. The center of the room, the place directly in front of the couch, was clear and visible, but everything else was cast in a mysterious shadow. 

 I waited palms down on the couch. I wanted to get used the feel of my hands on the fabric because I knew that once the main event started they couldn't be moved. Touching was strictly forbidden.     

 The beads parted and she stepped into the dim, purple light. Stranding about 5'4," hands on her cocked hips and her chest thrust outward, Alexia was a woman of darkness and mystery. She held the pose, as the beads fell back into position with a soft tinkle. Staring at me, face so seductively serious, she murmured one word: "Ready?"   

 "Yes," I said with a gulp. 

 Alexia nodded, and took a step forward. She hooked her fingers under the straps of her baby doll dress. With a flourish, she pushed the thin cords over her slender shoulders. The sheer lingerie fell in a silky whisper to her ankles. 

 Alexia stepped over the irrelevant and discarded nightie. Now the dancer was gloriously naked, except for T-back panties, and standing directly in front of me. Alexia's stomach was a taut drum with a gold, belly button piercing. Her legs, while not exceptionally long, were well sculpted by plenty of work on a metal pole – the lean, muscular legs of a dancer.

 My eyes immediately landed on her chest; Alexia's tits were incredible. My mouth watered as I thought about taking that soft flesh into my mouth. I could practically feel her breasts in my hands, as I clenched the fabric of the couch between my fingers. She was like an Amazonian Goddess demanding worship. I wanted to pray at that pagan alter all night long. 

 Those feminine mounds stood high and proud, unfettered by clothing. The thick, crinkly nipples were already at full attention.

 Cupping her breasts, Alexia asked me the obvious, "Would you like to put baby oil all over my tits? They'd be all shiny, and slick, and slippery. Messy too. They'd be perfect for a sloppy titty fuck."  She pushed her flesh together, making an overflowing crevice. Alexia leaned down and gave the cleft a lick, before continuing, "You could put your cock right in there. Yeah just like that. If you fucked them really hard you might accidentally pop your cock right into my mouth. Suddenly, then I'd have to give you a blow job. I'd have no other choice. Would you like to fuck my perky-ass tits? They'd feel so good around your dick, wouldn't they?"

 Lost for words, I nodded,

 Alexia pouted and batted her eye lashes. Her voice took on a little girl tone, "Too bad you can't touch them. You wouldn't want me to lose my job, would you? I'd be out on the street."

 I shook my head.

 "I wouldn't have anywhere to sleep. I wouldn't have a bed," she said, her voice all tease. For several seconds she pinched her nipples, and I was lost. I could practically feel them between my lips. Alexia continued, "Imagine, though, what it would feel like if you got me alone away from here. What would you do to me? What would you do to my body?"

 I gulped. Filthy images flooded my brain.

 Alexia turned around and bent at the waist. The round, fleshy globes of her ass were only about an inch from my face. A silky, black thong covered her sweet honey pot. I desperately wanted to push the covering aside so I could see Alexia in all her glory. Alexia understood my desires; with a single motion she yanked down her panties.

 "Do you like?" Alexia asked, wiggling her butt playfully.

 I gulped and blinked. "Of course," I replied. I stared at Alexia's beautiful pussy. It was shaved clean, soft and completely bare. Her labia was a puffy and fleshy cameltoe. The lips of her cunt were thick and meaty. I could practically feel them on the tip my tongue. And I couldn't be sure, but I think I saw a glistening drop of moisture just inside her pink. Oh she was sweet and ohhhhh so fuckable!

 Alexia backed her ass up even further. A hair's length separated us. I could feel her raw heat. "Can you smell my cunt?" she asked softly.

 I breathed in deeply, filling my lungs with her sexy, feminine musk. It was a heady intoxicating scent. I answered, "Yes. It smells so sweet." 

 "Good answer."

 "You like talking dirty, don't you?" I asked.

 Without missing a beat, Alexia responded, "Like a filthy, fucking slut."

 Alexia spun around and fell to the floor. With fluid grace, she placed her hands on my knees, arched her back, and wantonly growled, "Spread 'em." I did as I was told, parting my legs as far apart as they would go. Alexia smiled, licking her lips, and said, "Mmmm hmmm.... Good boy," before burying her face in my crotch.

 Although still confined by my Dockers, I was instantly hard. Alexia rubbed her cheek against the shaft of my cock.  I could feel her breath, steamy and warm, through my pants. She slid her hands down my legs and then back up again. On the way up, though, she slid them under my pants. Alexia held my naked calves and began to massage the muscles with surprising strength and enthusiasm.

 Looking up at me with wicked, brown eyes, Alexia opened her mouth. She placed her lips around the spongy head of my cock. Her tongue slid underneath and licked the sensitive spot on the bottom of the head. I couldn't help but groan. Despite the barrier between us, her mouth felt so incredible. Everything was wet. Everything was warm.

 Slowly Alexia withdrew her mouth, scraping her teeth gently against my cock as she went. I looked at her, breathless, and said, "That was amazing."

 Alexia replied, her voice low and sultry, "That was just a start. We've got half an hour."

 And she was telling the truth. 

 That was just one night. After that evening I became a regular at the Glass Slipper. The other ladies knew me, but they understood that I was Alexia's customer first and foremost. I am not sure how much time we spent together in that dimly lit back room. The minutes melted away into hours.  

 We never went further than a lap dance; my pants always remained in check. After a round on the love seat I would be hard as a rock and barely able to walk. My balls would be full and heavy, and my breath would be gone. Alexia would kiss me lightly on the cheek and say, "That's it baby." I'd groan in need, cursing the passage of time.  Then I'd stand up and give her a hug, my hard-on pressing into her stomach. On the way out I'd assure her I would be back soon. Then I would trundle off to my car. Sometimes I would make it home, completely in tact. Other evenings, (I'm not proud of this) I would fish out my cock and stroke off as I drove down the highway.  I'm lucky that I never caused an accident. 

 This rhythm went on for a couple of months, and then I met my current ex. With a girlfriend in tow it just didn't seem right to visit the Slipper. They were only lap dances, but there was an intimacy involved. Instead of thinking of my girlfriend, I would daydream of the stolen moments with Alexia in the backroom. I could feel myself falling for Alexia the stripper, and that could lead nowhere good. 

 So I broke off contact, cold turkey. While we were never great together, my ex and I dated for almost two years. The last six months of it was perfunctory, just simply going through the motions.  When we parted, I don't think either of us really felt bad. Rather, we just agreed and moved on.

 But now I was single guy again....

*****

 "Alexia...." Her name trailed off my lips, falling away faintly. I am sure my face was a comic mask of disbelief. My mouth fell open and closed, but no other words came out. 

 "Yeah," she said, winking. "But my real name is Angela."

 "Angela, huh?" I said repeating her name. The word sounded unreal.

 "Actually no," she laughed, wrinkling her nose. "No one calls me that, not even my parents. I go by Angel. It is a nickname I've had forever."

 I folded my hands in front of me, taking in this new revelation. A moment ago I couldn't recognize her, but now she was so clear. I had just needed to put aside the dark lighting, the make-up, the hair-do, and the stripper clothes (or lack thereof).  

 And it all came together into something unreal. 

 I had thought a lot about Alexia / Angel, but I had never expected to be sitting across from her in a bookstore on a Sunday afternoon, sipping coffee. This was too mundane. This could be a sitcom or a twisted Nora Ephron film. The fantasy had slipped into reality. 

 Not that there was a problem. Heavens no! She was beautiful, much more beautiful than I had remembered. The edge had fallen away. She was no longer a salacious sex pot for whom I quaked with unrepentant desire. No, scrubbed clean she looked like a normal – yet still very beautiful – girl next door. 

 "It's been awhile," I said, knowing that it was the most trite and boring thing I could possibly say.

 She grinned. "Yes, it has." Her eyes locked on mine. Then she threw back in her head in deep, throaty laughter. 

 "Sorry," I frowned. "I wish I had a good line, something unusual that you haven't heard."

 Angel giggled and tapped me lightly on the shoulder. "Believe me, buddy, I've heard every line conceivable."

 I shrugged, "I just wasn't expecting to see you. I guess I am a little struck for words."

 "It happens," Angel replied as she took a swig of coffee. She swished it around in her mouth for a moment, as she weighed where to take this conversation. For a second she seemed lost in thought; then she made a decision. Angel continued, "So you used to be pretty regular. It seemed like I was seeing you once a week, for awhile. What happened?"

 "Girlfriend," I answered.

 Smirking her condolences, Angel sighed, "Oh one of them. How's that going for you?"      "Over and done," I said, wiping my hands against each other. "The slate is clean."

 "Nice," Angel said with an odd finality. She raised her coffee in a mock toast. "To a clean slate. Cheers."

 "I take it then you don't dance anymore?"     "Nope. It was fun while it lasted, but that chapter is done for me. I think about it on occasion. I liked the freedom, you know? But there was just too much shit. That is why I got this tongue stud, so I could feel a little naughty, like I still have a dark side."

 Angel grinned and stuck out her tongue. In the center was a small, silver ball. "Do you like?" she asked, her voice dropping low.  "Does it make me sexy and mysterious?"

 Lost for words, I said the first thing that came to my mind, "Absolutely."

 "Most guys approve," Angel laughed. "I couldn't imagine why."

 "But I can," I said with a smile. Thoughts of that tongue stud clouded my brain. I wondered how it would feel rubbing against the head of my cock. How would she use the combination of soft and hard textures to drive me insane? These questions came to me unasked for. I don't think any guy can contain these thoughts. There is, after all, no better sign that a woman loves and is good at head than a tongue piercing. 

 I shook my head and continued, "I'm curious if you don't mind me asking. Do you ever get recognized? Do people know who you are?"

 "You mean like how you recognized me?" Angel teased.

 "Touche." I grimaced. "Just like that. But not."  

 "Yeah. It's been about a year since I last danced at the slipper, but I still get recognized. Most of the time you guys look at me with disbelief, like they just saw a ghost. Other times, just like with you, it is like they are staring at me through a fog and they can't remember why I am familiar. The best moments are when they are with a spouse or some other woman. They then do everything they can to avoid eye contact. Maybe they are afraid that I will reveal their little secret. As if, I'm just gonna go blurt out in a food court that I was a stripper and that I gave hubby a lap dance until he nearly blew a wad in his Dockers. Yeah right."

 "Does anybody ever come up to you?"

 "You mean hit on me?"

 "Yeah." 

 Angel smiled, "A woman did once."

 "Really?"

 "She shocked the hell out of me, a total cutie," Angel replied. "It figures, too. Who knows how many guys saw me strutting around that club, and it was a woman who has the cajones to introduce herself."

 I laughed, before playfully asking, "How did that go?"

 Angel leaned in close as her voice dropped down real low. Suddenly I was listening to the sound of soft satin. "Maybe I'll tell you some other time."

 "Oh?" I inquired, realizing this conversation has suddenly gotten much more serious.

 Angel placed her hand on my thigh; goose bumps rose on my skin. The chestnut haired beauty's breath, warm and moist, gently caressed my neck. She whispered, almost verbatim to my fantasy, "Mmm hmmmmm... That story wouldn't be appropriate for a public place like this. But trust me, you'd be very interested."

 My back stiffened and my breath came irregularly.

 "Back at the club," Angel said, her voice dropping very low, "the girls and I used to like to have a good time. Sometimes it was in front of everyone during one of those special birthday or bachelor party shows. Sometimes we'd all be freaks backstage."

 "You mean..." my voice trailed off. 

 "Most of the time we would fake it, but yup, sometimes some bitch would eat my pussy in front of a room full of horny guys."

 Shock was written large across my face.

 Angel pulled back and giggled. She gave me a winsome smile and said, "Well that got your attention."


Angel, Stripped Ch. 01



I nodded and sat back in my chair. "When would you like to tell me that story?"

 "Are you asking me out?"

 My heart stopped for a second. My stripper fantasy was coming on to me – for real. "Is that allowed?"

 "Sure," Angel replied, tossing her pony tail. "We aren't in a club. You can do what ever you like. There isn't a bouncer looking over my shoulder making sure I don't do something wrong or that I push things too far. Heck, as long as we don't fornicate in the cooking section no one here cares what we do."

 "Do you often think about fornicating in the cooking section?" I inquired.

 "Sometimes," Angel smirked.

 "Rachel Ray does it for you, huh?" I joked.

 "Kinda, but her voice drives me up the wall," she quipped. Angel scrunched her head in thought, before continuing, "I'm more of a Giada gal myself. That girl is fucking hot."

 I laughed. Angel just looked at me waiting for me to continue.

 "Soooooooo..." I said drawing out the syllable. I was trying to find my way back to our earlier discussion. "We're just two people at a book store enjoying a Sunday afternoon chat."

 "Right."  

 "Exactly."

 "Exactly."

 "Are you going to fucking ask me out?" Angel asked, this time her voice was peppered with a little flustered impatience.

 "Sure." I paused and casually looked around the book store coffee shop. I wanted her to wait for a moment. I couldn't believe that I was flirting with her. Even weirder, was that she was flirting right back. This was Alexia, the girls of my dreams, my fantasy incarnate. I had never expected to see her again, but there she was. "Want to go out?"

 Angel didn't hesitate.  She picked up her coffee, rose from her seat, and said, "Let's go." 

 "Now?" For the second time that day, I was stunned.

 "Absolutely," Angel answered and then left the coffee shop.

 Discombobulated, but knowing I must hurry, I haphazardly thrust my messy stack of papers and notes into my briefcase. I didn't want to lose track of my fantasy girls for a second time. 

*****

 "Get in."

 Angel held open the back door of her white Saturn. The car was immaculate except for a couple empty water bottles in the back seat. I looked at Angel and quizzically raised an eyebrow. What was her game? She just laughed and nudged me on the shoulder.

 I crawled into the car; Angel followed close behind me. She shut the door and for the first time the two of us truly were alone. Certainly, we were in a semi-public place (the parking lot of a strip mall), but we were fairly isolated and away from the other cars. Despite the myriad intimate contortions we had been in before, I had never had this much privacy with her.  

 Sunlight streamed in through the windows of Angel's car. I studied her face hoping for a clue as to what was going to happen next. I had an idea (I wasn't that naïve), but I didn't want to fall prey to wishful thinking.  Us guys can think with our dicks too much. I also didn't want to fall prey to the dangers of an assumption. 

 Angel smiled back, coy and thoughtful. She was building up to something.

 "Kiss me," Angel whispered. My heart beat faster. Two simple words: Ohhh how I had ached to hear them!  While we were humping and grinding on one of those ratty, back-room couches, what would I have given to hear that single, forbidden utterance? But now Angel's voice rang out pure and true, a reality not a dream.  

 A heat welled up inside of me. I practically pounced on Angel, pinning her against the Saturn's back seat. My hands braced her cheeks, holding her face upright. Her mouth was a lush, rosy pucker. 

 In a frantic burst, my lips found hers. Flesh touched flesh. I was seared down deep; Angel was all warmth and moisture. Her breath poured into me. Our tongues dueled, rubbing against each other in this, a first dance of exploration. 

 The small, metal stud on her tongue burned my flesh. That first electric pulse passed through me, releasing what was pent up inside. I pulled Angel tight against me. The soft flesh of her chest tightly pressed against me.  I needed this; I needed her.     How long we stayed like that – engaged in a furtive lip lock – I can't possibly know. It was a single glorious moment that stretched on forever toward the horizon. We were a tangle of lips, roaming and exploring each others mouths, searching for that which would slake our thirst. But to no avail! What we had could not be quenched; it was a fire burning too bright, a lust that could not be contained.

 Angel put both of her hands on my shoulders and shoved. I was surprised at her strength. For such a tiny woman, she could muster a lot of force. My face was a mask of confusion. I fell backward onto the seat. Suddenly, without explanation, we were apart. Had I gone too far? Had I shown too much passion?  

 My questions were answered when her hands fell to my belt buckle. In a fluid, practiced motion, Angel undid the clasp, opened my fly, and slid down the zipper.

 Moaning, in heat, she said, "I can't wait to suck your cock. I have been close so many times before. In the club, I thought about it. But I just couldn't do it. Now I can. I want to swallow you. I want to feel you in my throat."

 Some women adore making a blow job into a quasi-theatrical production. For them, sucking cock is a demonstration of giving pleasure; it isn't a pleasure unto itself. Sure, they will stroke, smack, lick, and nibble their way up and down a cock with little kid glee. In their fervor, no piece of skin will be left uncovered by tiny kisses and pecks. But for these women, head is all about the show. These women never break eye contact; rather they use all their sexual wiles to hold their man's undivided attention. Closing one's eyes is out of the question. Laying back and wallowing in pure sensation is not an option. No, you must watch; you must be transfixed. All administrations are an act designed to impress. You must see them with your cock (and perhaps your balls) in their mouth.  You must witness them being nasty - being the filthy, dirty sluts that they know haunt our dreams.

 And then some women truly are dirty sluts.....

 .... Like Angel....

 In a single gulp, Angel took my entire length into her mouth. There was no tease; there was no long, slow build. Instead, she went directly for the swallow. 

 I moaned as I felt my dick hit the back of her throat. Angel, in a truly impressive act of oral skill, wrapped her lips around the base of my shaft. My short and curlies were tickling her nostrils. There was no way she could go any further.

 But I was wrong.

 Angel pulled up, and kissed the small slit on my tip of my dick. A teasing lick followed. The stud scraped against my flesh, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through my loins. She breathed heavily, trying to regain control of her faculties. Her mouth formed a wry smile, and then she winked. Angel knew her opening act had set a high bar to beat. She gasped, gulping down a healthy lung full of air. Then, without a word, Angel again impaled her skull on my cock. 

 I could hear my stripper friend gag as she drilled my dick back down her throat. My slab of meat slid past her tonsils easily, sending stringers of drool washing over my balls. 

 But she wasn't done. Rather, Angel was ready for her tour de force. With my dick lodged completely down her throat, my darling dancer extended her tongue. I felt the small, pliant muscle bathe my balls with spittle. She wiggled that tongue in such a naughty way, scraping it against my hairy nut sack. The metal stud completed the massage in a way that no tongue by itself ever could. Back and forth she rubbed, gently massaging the skin between my balls.

 The fun hadn't really begun, though....

 Angel began to bob up and down on my cock. She gained speed as my shaft went in and out, up and down. She engulfed my member and then released it again. Finding her rhythm easily, Angel was a true virtuoso at giving head. The liquid warmth of her mouth was pure intoxication. I could do nothing but relax and settle into the blow job.

 The suction of her mouth was astounding. Angel's cheeks hollowed inward as she increased the pressure on my dick. Her lips formed a tight seal around my shaft. I groaned as that fantastic "O" spurred me toward new heights of pleasure. 

 Angel slid her arms up my body, running them along my chest. When she got to my nipples she gave the tips a single pinch through my shirt. I jumped in surprise, bucking my hips into her throat. Angel gave a muffled yelp, before changing directions. Digging in her nails, she dragged her fingertips down my arms. 

 "You are so beautiful sucking my cock, so fucking beautiful," I moaned. It was true. I am not sure I have seen a lovelier sight

 Angel uncorked her self from my dick. She grinned and winked, "Bitch, you ain't seen nothing yet."

 I scrunched my face in confusion. "Bitch?" I inquired.

 Angel laughed as she smacked my cock against her face. "Yeah, bitch," Angel said haughtily. "Got a problem with it? Or should I continue giving you the best fucking head you've ever had."

 I motioned for her to continue, "No complaints from me."

 "Mmmmm hmmmmmn.... That's right bitch. Now get in my mouth," Angel said triumphantly.

 Angel enthusiastically slurped up my cock. We locked hands, and I felt a jarring and overwhelming sense of intimacy with this woman whose face was in my lap. I had never expected to be in this situation with her. She was a dark fantasy lingering at the edge of my mind. I had never expected the reality. But here she was giving me a mind-numbing blowjob, and I had never even asked for a single lick.

 Angel firmly gripped my wrists and placed them on either side of her head. Disengaging for a moment from my cock, she said, "Fuck my face. Do it. I want you to fuck my face."

 Who was I to argue with a lady?

 I drove my hips upward, slamming my cock into Angel's waiting mouth. Feeling her jaw go slack, I put on the pressure. She clearly wanted me to use her face like a cunt. Not wanting to disappoint a lady, I readied myself to force my dick down deep. I dug my fingers into her long, brown hair. My hands held her head in place; she couldn't go anywhere. Instead, Angel could only take the assault as I fucked her face.

 Over and over again I rammed my sweet stripper's mouth. Spit rolled out from between Angel's battered lips. A large slimy puddle of saliva was forming in her back seat. She would have to clean that up later. For now, however, my stripper slut was not concerned. Her mouth was fucking full of my dick and she in love with every fucking inch.

 Thought left me. My grip on her hair tightened as I intensified the face fuck. I was just a machine, a piston, as I pumped my rod into her face. Every movement was sharp and brutal; every thrust solicited a sighing gasp. She was a hot, wet hole and I was a piece of rock candy. 

 I am not sure if I ever experienced hotter or more enthusiastic head, but I wanted more. My body ached for the hidden delights that lay between Angel's legs. I had seen that beautiful slit up close and personal. I had drooled over her perfectly manicured pussy so many times on that strip club couch. Now that I was fucking her throat, I wondered if I could go just a little further.

 I pulled Angel up, releasing my dick from her mouth. Two long and sloppy stringers of saliva still connected us. Her eyes had a glassy look and her face was flush with heat. She panted in my lap, her tongue dangling loosely from her mouth, breathing hot air onto my crotch.  

 "You don't want to finish?" Angel gasped, fighting for breath with every syllable. "Of course I do," I said, "but now I want your cunt."

 "Really?" Angel asked. Her eyes flickered and her attitude returned. "What makes you think I am ready to give that up?"

 "Isn't it obvious? We are both hot and we each have a need to get fucking fucked."

 "Do you promise?"

 I wasn't sure what she was getting at. "What do you mean?" 

 Angel gazed into my eyes with unbridled longing and lust. Her voice was smooth and smoky, like the stiffest bourbon. "Do you promise to bang me until I can't walk? I want you to pound me so hard that my pussy spasms the entire way home? I don't want it nice. It needs to be nasty, like every promise we uttered at the club. I want to be fucked."  

 No thought was required. "Agreed."

 "Good." 

 Angel hiked up her black skirt and straddled my hips. I held my dick upright, making it a clear target. Angel pulled her panties to the side and spread her cunt lips.

 "No foreplay," Angel said. "Just fuck me. Understood?"

 "Understood." I couldn't believe I was about to fuck my stripper goddess. A split second later, Angel slid onto my cock with a single, smooth thrust. 

 "Ohhhhhh fuuuuck!!! Ohhh get in there!" 

 With a lewd sploosh sound, her pussy enveloped my shaft from tip to base. She was so goddamn wet and slick! 

 In a fluid motion I was buried deep inside her sopping cunt. I am not sure that I had ever felt anything quite so velvety soft and smooth. Angel moaned and swooned. She writhed, arching her back until she banged into the front seat headrest. We were sitting up and I was facing forward in the car. She was turned towards me. 

 Angel bellowed. A sharp edge that wasn't there before now reverberated in her voice. "How does that feel for you? Was it everything you thought it would be? Does it live up to what you paid for back on those couches? Can you handle it? Can you handle my fucking pussy, bitch?"

 "Oh fuck yeah," I replied as I pulled the slender dancer down onto my cock. Pleasure coursed through me as I slammed up into her honey pot. My skin slapped wetly against the cushion of her lush ass. I could barely hold on, it was so good. I wailed, "I'm loving it so much."

 Angel grabbed my hair roughly, scratching her finger nails against my scalp, and spat, "You better be liking this shit, bitch. You had to wait for it, all those nights grinding my pussy against your cock. Did you wank off when you got home?"

 "Yes," I gasped.

 "EVERY TIME?"

 "Yes."

 Angel smiled, "Good boy, mmmmm hmmmmnn... now FUCK ME!!!!"

 To an outsider, we were both fully clothed. Sure my jeans were around my ankles, but unless the onlooker was on top of us they wouldn't notice. Angel's s grey turtleneck was still on, to my dismay; I would have loved to feel her tits slapping against my face. Oh well. Hopefully, there would be another time for that. At least her pussy was sliding on my cock. 

 I bet, though, there would be little no doubt as to what we were doing. A stray car in the corner of the parking lot, bouncing up and down with two people in the back seat - yup people would know we were fucking. Thankfully, no one was paying attention. There were some teenage skateboarders in the distance to busy "shredding it" to see us banging in the back seat. But to my guess, it was only a matter of time until they noticed.

 "I can't believe I am fucking you," I groaned as I reached under Angel's skirt and clasped her tight ass. I had never been allowed to touch before. Now I was going to enjoy this opportunity for all it was worth. 

 Her ass globes were soft and fleshy, but with rippling muscles underneath. I raised a hand and brought it down on Angel's right cheek with a smack. She squealed in delight and drove herself harder onto my dick.

 "Mmmmmm hmmmmn.... That feels so good. Spank me again. Make it red, bitch! Do it! Harder!" Angel demanded. How could I argue? Using my left hand to hold up her skirt, I smacked her with my right. One, two, three, four, and five times I spanked her ass. Each time she ground her hips, taking me in a little deeper. 

 Angel went into a breathless trance. Her eyes were glassy; her hair whipped from side to side. The car smelled of her sex, that heady scent of cunt in heat. 

 As I pummeled her pussy, Angel began a chant, a litany, an Om of the filthiest language I could imagine. "Yeah harder, harder harder. I said harder. I said fucking HARDER. Fuck me. Oh God, fuck your little slut. Yeah bitch just like that, oh fuck yeah.... You know I like that.... Ohhhhh, oh fuck me. Oh yeah just like that.  Mmmmm hmmmn... oooh yeah fuck, yeah you fucker deep in my pussy. Yeah, yeah, yeah, oh YEAH. You like that bitch. You like the way I fuck you bitch. Ooh, oh yeah. FUCK ME!!!"

 I could feel the build beginning. They filth spewing from Angel's mouth was pulling the nut from my dick. I knew that I wasn't going to last too much longer. In all reality, I was amazed that I held out this long. Here I was, slamming my first pussy in a couple of months in a parking lot in broad daylight. And this wasn't just any girl. I was BANGING my fantasy girl, my stripper dream cum to life.

 I put my hands on her hips and jack-hammered upward. I gritted my teeth, powering myself into overdrive. Angel, who had just reached down to rub her clit howled, long and shrill. Her eyes closed; her chest heaved. Orgasm washed over Angel, sending small tremors ripping throughout her body.

 I paused as she came down. I was a hair's breath from the brink. But I need to know the answer to one simple question.

 "Angel, where do you want me to cum?"

 Her eyes slits, Angel groaned, "In my mouth.... Fuck.... Let me drink your nut."

 I had my answer. "Do it now," I growled. "I am so close. Ohhhh ANGEL!!!"

 With surprising energy, Angel lept off of my meat and pounced onto the floor. She engulfed my dick, pussy juice and all, in a single, slurping gulp. I felt my cock head hit the back of her throat as her tongue tickled my shaft. I couldn't wait any longer. This woman had me. It was time for me to unleash my load.

 I am not sure how many times my dick pulsed, jetting thick ropes of cum down my stripper friend's throat. She moaned, "Mmmmm hmmmmn," with every shot. Angel was a trooper. 

 None of it escaped. There was a small trickle of jizz at the corner of her mouth when she was done, but she just wiped that up with her finger. Then she licked her fingers clean. 

 Both of us lay entwined in her back seat, gasping for air. Angel planted a kiss on the end of my dick and sat up. I spasmed and bucked my hips, uncontrollably. So sensitive!

 The world outside her car came into focus.

 We weren't alone.

 The skateboarders had caught onto what we were doing and decided to take a peek. How could they not? I am sure the car was bouncing up and down to the rhythm of our fuck. Five teenagers, three guys and two girls, were peering into the car from a slight distance.        

 Angel knew no shame. She grinned before saying, "This should be fun."

 Running a hand through her hair, Angel opened up the car and stepped into the parking lot. The five voyeurs (who seemed on the edge of bolting) and my stripper friend just stood there staring at each other, sizing each other up. It was a collective deer in the headlights moment. No one knew what to say. 

 Meanwhile I was naked from the waist down, my dick blowing in the breeze. Still wet with Angel's saliva, my cock was right in the teenagers' line of sight. Oh well. I pulled up my pants and zipped up. There was nothing to do but follow Angel's lead. I got out of the car.

 Angel looked at me and said brashly, "That was a great fuck we must do it again sometime." 

 Then she turned to the teenagers and quipped, "Did you fuckers enjoy the show?"

 The skateboarders all looked at each other, each hoping someone else would speak first. 

 "Did you?" Angel asked again.

 Seconds piled on top each other.

 Angel frowned and nodded knowingly. "Mmmm hmmmn.... Well since none of you will talk," she said, "I will take your silence as a yes. I know it was good for me. I haven't been boned like that for a long time."

 The moment was pregnant. At first, no one wanted to break the silence. But the emptiness was unbearable. 




Angel, Stripped Ch. 01



One of the skaters shrugged her shoulders and stepped forward tentatively. She was a cute Goth chick of about eighteen years of age with dark hair, ripped clothes, and too much eye shadow. When she spoke, her voice was a mousy bundle of wavering uncertainty. I could barely hear her when she exclaimed, "My God, that was soooooo hot!"

 Angel smiled, grinning from ear to ear. She had cast her line and was now reeling in her catch. Seduction is seduction; how was this any different than scoring a lap dance?

 "You liked to watch?" Angel asked.

 The girl blushed, but she replied with a touch more certainty, "Very much."

 Angel walked to within one foot of the girl. She reached out and touched the girl's neck ever so lightly with her finger tips. Angel licked her lips before asking, low and sultry, "Would you like a souvenir?"

 The girl was smitten. She could only nod.

 I recognized that look in Angel's eye. I had seen it many times before at the Glass Slipper. I could see that she loved what she was doing. She adored being the slutty and unexpected tease.

 Angel reached under her skirt and slowly pulled down her panties. The sheer black fabric slid down her satin smooth legs. Angel purred, "Hold out your hand." 

 The Goth teenager bit her lips, unable to take her eyes off of Angel. Slowly she extended her arm and opened her palm. 

 Angel leaned in and whispered, "Good girl," before handing off her panties.  The skater's mouth fell open as she realized that the fantasy was in fact reality. 

 Angel smiled and patted the Goth teenager on the cheek, before turning on her heels.

I followed Angel back into the bookstore. I couldn't help myself. I had to see where this went next.     

Send Feedback, I'd love to hear your thoughts. 



Angel, Stripped Ch. 02



I am having fun with this new series. Is it realistic? Who knows? It is all about fantasy (with a few dashes of reality). Once again, thank you for the comments and feedback. You guys have really motivated me to write. A special thank you goes out to MyKittyStar, who took the time to edit my work. Her attention to detail (and commas) has really improved the story. She has also made this whole process so much more fun. Feel free to send me your thoughts. I will respond. I'd love to hear where you think this should go next. I am not sure myself. Don't forget to vote. Enjoy



"Take out your wiener."

Those weren't the words I expected to hear when I picked up the phone.

"Really? My wiener?" I asked. "Are we in fifth grade?" 

"Don't question me. That's what I said, bitch!" she flung. Her voice was stinging and harsh, but with a softer underlying hint of mischief. "And start stroking."

It had been another lazy Sunday afternoon. 

This time though, I was spending it at home reading a book and sipping on a coke. 

That was until the phone rang....

I was surprised. It had been exactly one week since I had last seen Angel, my stripper fantasy. I hadn't been sure if our frenzied episode in the parking lot had been a one-off fuck, or the beginning of something much juicier. I had tried calling (she had given me her cell number before we parted ways at Barnes and Noble), but had only gotten an anonymous voice mail account. I had just about written Angel off when she rang. 

And that is when she ordered me to start stroking my "wiener."

So there I was sitting on my couch; pants around my ankles, panting and grunting with my wiener in hand and rubbing away to a frantic rhythm. I was hard - rock hard and listening carefully as Angel moaned dirty talk into my ear.

"Are you stroking it?" she asked.

"Yes." I sounded pathetic, like a kid begging for a candy bar in a grocery check-out line.

"Good. Get it good and hard. I want it like a rock. But don't cum. I just want you to listen. Understood?" Angel asked. He voice was deliciously soft and feminine, yet was also as unyielding as steel.

I gave my cock a couple of tugs. "Understood," I replied.

"I am going to play with myself too," Angel said matter-of-factly. I wasn't sure if she wanted my approval or was just being a tease. My bet was on tease.

"That sounds good to me." 

Angel's voice became low. I had to strain to hear. I pressed the phone close to my ear so I wouldn't miss a single naughty syllable. "I love it when your wiener is hard," she began. "For some reason all of us girls always called them wieners when we were working at the Slipper. I am not sure why. In the club, it seemed fitting. Wieners were toys, playthings. Since they were always covered, they were never dangerous. Unlike cocks. Cocks were dangerous. They made men do unspeakable things. Let a cock loose and there was no telling what would happen. Who knows? You might get nut in your eye. And that shit stings." 

Angel giggled for a moment then the conversation went silent. I heard a strange sound almost as if someone was crinkling up cellophane. What? Ohhhhh.... I grinned as I realized that Angel was holding the phone next to her very wet pussy.

I grunted and stroked even faster.

"Like that?" Angel asked after putting the phone back up by her ear.

"Very much." 

"Good. I'm wet."

"I can hear." 

"I've been like this all week. Thought you might want to know," she said before continuing her story. "Anyway, I loved feeling your wiener rub against me in the club. I always looked forward to seeing you. I could feel the bulge in your pants. If I was careful I could line it up against my cunny-slit. And then I would rub.... I used to go home and think about it. I would remember what it felt like to ground against you during a lap dance and then I couldn't help myself. I would have to hike up my skirt or pull down my jeans. Then I would pull my panties aside and tease my clit. The fabric would be sticky and moist from thinking about how I grind my hips against you."

Angel gasped. I could hear the tenor of her voice begin to quicken. How fucking sexy! She continued to speak into the phone, "We were so close to having sex so many times. Quite a few nights I almost caved. I could have just reached down, unzipped your pants, and oops – there you would be! All I would have to do is squat and you would have been inside me! You were always so hard and I don't think you would have minded?"

A pause. "Would you?" Angel questioned, already knowing the answer. 

"No," I breathed. 

"Didn't think so," Angel purred. She gasped twice in quick succession. I could only imagine what she was doing. "And there would be all of those other naughty wieners too. They were everywhere trying to spear my innocent, little pussy. But they couldn't. I was just there to tease and to make them walk bow-legged back to their cars. When they got home, they would have to fuck their wives or their girlfriends. Or they would have to masturbate. No choice. I had filled their balls with cum and then they would need to unload. And when they did they would be thinking of me and my untouchable pussy. That thought is so yummy. So many wieners!"

"You slut," I moaned, cutting in. "You teased me so much."

"I know, bitch. How many hard-ons did I give to you?" I could hear the pride and satisfaction in Angel's voice. "So when I got home, after the club closed for the night, I couldn't stop thinking about all of those wieners; all of those wieners I made hard but couldn't suck or fuck. I would sit on my couch dripping wet. Juices would run down my leg. I had to find relief. Sometimes I used my toys. Other nights I played with my fingers. But no matter how tired I was, I would always make myself cum." 

Angel's words were now coming in heavy gasps. She was on the precipice of an orgasm. Another moment and she would tumble over. 

She took a long breath and paused. I could hear a struggle on the other end of the line. Then she asked, "How close are you to busting a nut?"

"You told me not to cum," I replied.

"I know, but I want to know how close you are."

"Very."

"Does it make you hotter to know that my juices are running down my leg?"

I gasped. "Fuck, yes!" I said. Electrical jolts raced from my groin to my brain. 

"Good. Then take your hand off your cock."

"I thought it was a wiener."

"Not right now it isn't," she shot back, a smile in her voice.. 

I grinned. "Fair enough. My hand is now off my cock."

"Excellent. Pull up your pants and put your cock away."

"Don't tell me that was a tease? We're not done, right?" I asked, more than a little surprised. My cock was hard in desperate need of relief. 

Angel paused for a long moment. I could hear her breath slow as her voice reverted to normal. "No silly," she giggled. "Now we are going to fuck. It has been a week since I have had your cock – or any other cock - inside me. We must remedy that situation. Unless you have an objection?" 

"N-n-no," I sputtered. My lips went to jello; my mind became mush. Why must I always sound like an idiot when I talk to this lady? 

Angel giggled. "You sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Good. Meet me at the art museum downtown in an hour. I'll be waiting by the Pollack."

My phone clicked off.

One hour was a short time. I could do nothing but smile. 

*****

Fifty-six minutes later I had paid my admission and picked up a map of the museum. It was time to find the voice at the other end of the line.

I wish I could say that I knew something about art. Sure, I could drop a few names and impress the poseurs, but anyone with a real knowledge would easily see through my sham.

I wasn't such a dunce that I hadn't heard of Jackson Pollack though. His splatter paintings would be lumped in with the modern artists. I got my bearings and found those galleries on the map.

I walked through the Impressionists and the Renaissance art. The museum was largely devoid of people. A few random art aficionados braved the cold winter weather, but it seemed like the only visitors were the truly hard core. 

Down one hall I saw a couple of large paintings comprised of bright colors, prefect squares, and straight lines. Mondrian. I knew I was close.

I turned and came face-to-face with a large white canvas. It was crisscrossed with lines of paint. Reds and blues, swirls and dots cavorted over an expanse of empty space. On the surface it was a mess. Art? Really? But staring at the painting evoked an unusual response. There was something more beneath the random splotches. The painting was all emotional bedrock, a random foundation lying at the base of human experience.  

Or maybe I was thinking about fucking?

Whatever....

At this moment I didn't care about the theoretical underpinnings of art. Angel was standing about ten feet in front of the Pollack in a long, white winter coat. My hard-soled shoes clicked against the stone floor. To someone else Angel might have appeared to be immersed in Pollack's work; she was tamed in her focus. She didn't move or flinch, she was completely still as I approached. But I knew that she was playing a different game. This is how the seduction went....

I stood behind Angel and put my hands on her slender shoulders. I could feel her tremble and shudder under my touch. I squeezed, rubbing that zone of tension between the shoulder blades and neck. She sighed and went loose, but kept staring at the masterpiece in front of her.

I leaned in close. I could smell Angel's shampoo; it was light and fruity, possibly cucumber melon. My hands moved from her slender shoulders to the graceful slope of her neck. I pushed aside the chestnut hair that fell loosely from her white page-boy hat. I wanted to kiss her, to taste her skin on my lips, to savor everything that was this Angel. 

We bent into each other. My tongue swiped the tip of Angel's earlobe. She mewed and fell backwards into me. My arm slid around her neck cradling her against my body. I breathed hot air and leaned in for a deeper kiss. I suckled the flesh of her ear between my lips. 

There was a churning building inside of my body, a heat that could barely be contained. I had spent every free moment over the last week thinking about her. She had been my fantasy girl turned real, turned fantasy again. Then the phone conversation drove me into delirium. 

Now she was against me, our clothes the only thing between us. Angel's presence so very close, was like a match to kindling. Waves of shimmering flame coursed around us. White hot the inferno threatened to rage, to burn out of control, to seize me in desperation and need.

"Oh I need you to fuck me," I heard Angel softly moan. "I can't take any more waiting. You need to fuck me."

My hand slid down from Angel's neck to her chest. I couldn't be sure, but it felt like she wasn't wearing anything underneath her coat. 

I, too, had waited long enough. "Let's go," I said, urgency dripping from my tongue.

"No," she whispered. Angel pulled herself from my grasp and spun around. She caught my face in her hands and pulled me down to her. I felt the passion flowing through us electric as our lips touched. I leaned, in savoring the oblivion, the flagrant disregard of everything public in that kiss.

Angel took a step back, and smiled. I shook my head, confused. What? How could she move away from that kiss?! 

The she spoke, her voice barely audible – a complete whisper, "Wait here three minutes. Go to the main stairs and head to the second floor. To the right is a long string of religious art. Keep winding through the displays until find a small room that looks like the inside of a church steeple. If you blink you will miss it. I think it is from Turkey. No matter, I will be waiting for you inside. And that is where you will have me."

"You want to have sex right here, in the museum?" 

"Yes, and I want to do it underneath a priceless stained-glass window from an ancient chapel. Can you handle that?" Angel murmured as she batted her long eyelashes. "What do you say? It is either now or never."

No thought was required; I was a puddle of mush. My head nodded up and down of its own accord.

Angel placed her index and middle fingers against her lips. With a pursing sound she transferred those fingers to my own lips. My heart quickened. I knew what was coming.

I raced through the art museum's vaulted hallways. My feet clicked loudly against the floor. Purpose was written large on my face. A blur of art passed me by. I barely registered the gaudy religious iconography as I searched frantically for my destination. 

The three minutes wait in front of the Pollack had been agony. The second my watch turned over, I bolted. Now I was a grey hound set loose from the gate. Body in motion, my eyes darted back and forth. I had to find the room; I had to get the girl. 

I almost missed the doorway. While zooming through a room filled with ancient dishes and pottery I screeched to a halt. The entrance was unobtrusive. If I hadn't been looking for it, I would have never given it a second glance. I pivoted, walked toward the aged door frame, and ducked inside.

The room was shaped like a tiny octagon. The walls were a sickly yellow color and completely bare. Above me was the art, a stained glass window of deep blues and reds. I didn't even register the pattern... because at that point I didn't care

Feeling no hesitation I flowed into my Angel's waiting arms. How far had she fallen from the sky? I was sure that one day long ago she was pure; having not known the touch or taste of a cock, a time when she came complete with wings and a halo. But now this servant of God was soiled; she was stripped of her wings. Angel was a debaucherous creature driven by worldly lusts and passions. Fucking was part of her nature. That was why we were here today. Angel was my temptation into sin. 

We embraced, grasping each other roughly. We melted into a full throttle kiss. Energy, passion, lust, and fever crackled between us. I was completely smitten; overcome and overwhelmed by desire. 

Angel fell backward against the wall. I felt her hand at my crotch. Angel giggled and groped my hardening flesh. For a long moment, her hand kneaded my shaft; too much contact and I would cum in her hand. 

"Take it out," I whispered, as I nibbled at her neck.

Angel closed her eyes and moaned "Mmmmm hmmmmn." She released my thickening shaft and it gave it two loving pats through the fabric. 

Smiling, Angel flipped her hand, grabbed hold of the metal tang, and tugged. The zipper unlocked with a satisfying metallic sound. My cock, unfettered, popped into the open air of the art museum. I needed no foreplay; I was already as hard as a steel bar.

While stroking my dick with one hand, Angel held my chin with the other. I couldn't look away. There was something feral in the way she probed my eyes. I felt my self bending to her will. With a low, harsh tone Angel demanded, "You are going to put your cock inside of me and fuck me. You aren't going to stop. No matter what happens, no matter who sees, you will not stop slamming my shit. I don't want you to let up until you have cum inside of my cunt. Understand?"

I nodded. We didn't have much time. The museum wasn't crowded today, but some random art enthusiast could stumble upon us fucking at anytime. It had to be hard, it had to be fast, it had to be now. We were animals in heat; this fuck would be nothing shy of primal.

Hands shaking, I undid the buttons of Angel's coat. I felt my breath catch and my eyes grow wide. Angel had done the unimaginable. She was naked, so gloriously naked, except for a black garter belt and stockings. No shirt, no bra, no panties, and no skirt. Unbelievable, she had been walking the halls of the art museum without a stitch of clothing. 

I had seen Angel's tits countless times at the Slipper. They were spectacular; so round, fleshy, and buoyant. But despite my aching desire, I had never been allowed to touch. Our escapade in the book store parking lot had been frantic. We had fucked while Angel had remained fully clothed (excepting her underwear, of course). Her boobs had never come into view. 

Now her breasts were unavoidable. They were in front of my gaze, and I couldn't help myself. I growled, before mauling both breasts. I was surprised (and pleased!) to learn that Angel had added accessories since I had last seen her completely naked; twin nipple rings. They would have to be examined in aching detail.

Later! 

Angel roughly grabbed my ass and pulled me towards her. My cock slid forward, rubbing against her clit. "Oh shit. Forget my tits, and fuck me!" she grunted. I got the picture. I would have time to play with her fabulous breasts later. Time was pressing and there was other business at hand. I had a hard cock and she had a wet cunt. Those two things needed to cum together.

I grabbed Angel's thighs and raised her up against the wall. With a grunting "ooph," she propped herself up and settled into position. 

Angel was now completely off the floor; her feet no longer touched the ground. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and implored, "Fuck me."

Angel's tits pressed against me, the metal of the nipple rings seared me through my shirt. My dick pulsed and throbbed against her steaming cunt. My jaw hung slackly, in unthinking need. All I could do was nod before moving into action. 

I lowered Angel's body slowly, skin sliding smoothly against skin. It only took three tries to make a connection. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. "Aaaaaahhhhhh! FUCK!!!" Angel was impaled on my cock.

So warm, so wet! Her pussy was liquid heaven. There was no resistance. The walls of her cunt parted as I speared her with my cock. 

She felt like a soft, velvet glove gripping me tightly. I uncurled my arms, dropping Angel's body gently onto my shaft. She gasped as I filled her widening hole. Another second and we were touching, skin-to-skin. I was buried inside Angel to the hilt. My fantasy woman was once again riding my fucking dick. 

Only this time I controlled the movement. I lifted her body up, practically uncorking her cunt. Then I released letting her fall back down. Angel's legs wrapped around me, as she desperately tried to pull me deeper inside her sweltering cunt. I was overwhelmed in a heady sexual haze. I was such a lucky bastard to be in this place. 

Angel clamped down and bit my neck as she tried her best to stifle a moan. For the most part she succeeded. What would have been an ear-piercing howl became a muffled whine. 

My eyes opened wide. I tightened my grip on her thighs. The pain was excruciating. The sensation of her teeth digging into my neck became an intoxicating and raw cocktail. Primal needs were released. In response I could only grimace and channel the pain into my bucking hips.

The room smelled of our sex. I could pick up the aroma of our rutting on the air. It was a pungent, raw scent that filled the tiny room. 

Long after we would be done fucking the lingering evidence of fresh pussy would remain. 

Angel's head was still buried in my neck. She moaned and gasped, trying her best to contain the waves of sensation crashing through her body. She murmured, in a low guttural voice, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...." She punctuated my every thrust with another profane demand. It was an otherworldly chant, set to the rhythm of my pounding beat. 

I was getting close, but I still had a little more steam. I raised Angel's body and leaned her shoulders against the wall. I whispered in her ear, "Hold on," and then I truly began to pound her body.

Slam, slam, slam! Over and over I banged into her body. I was pure motion, a jackhammer sledging a driving beat. My fingers dug into her thighs, bracing her against the wall. I was certain there would be bruises the next day. 




Angel, Stripped Ch. 02



But for now neither of us cared. We were fucking in the middle of an art exhibit in a public museum.

I heard a rustle of movement behind us. 

Startled, I turned my head. Standing in the doorway was a blonde wearing sunglasses, a winter coat, and a pink baseball cap. 

Shit! We were caught. Instantly, I locked up cold. Although my cock was still largely contained by Angel's cunt; I stopped moving in mid-pump. My mind began to race as the revelation of being discovered struck me. I hadn't really expected to get caught; that possibility was never real to me. Rather, I had been too deep in a sex induced fever to starkly examine the reality of the situation. The two of us were in some serious trouble. 

The blonde smiled lewdly and whispered, "Goddamn, you two are loud. Hush up and get it done already. We don't have all day."

I blinked and I stared. I wasn't able to process the words coming out of the blonde's mouth.

Angel unlocked one her hands locked behind my neck and slapped me hard on the cheek. Eyes hurling daggers, she growled, "C'mon bitch. 

She's the fucking look out for fuck's sake. She'll let us know if there are any fucking problems. Now fucking focus. Move your hips and fuck me. Pound me. Fucking fill my cunt with your nut."

I still wasn't clear on what was going on, but it didn't matter. Angel had given me orders that much was crystal clear. So without further thought I slammed my cock as deep as I could into her cunt.

Angel grimaced and let out a "uunh". Her eyes fluttered and she dug her fingers back into my neck. There would probably be marks tomorrow where her nails had scratched my skin. 

I pulled most of the way out and rammed myself into her again. Each stroke was as deep and as hard as I could go. Angel's pussy juice dribbled down my balls onto my pants. I was a locomotive chugging toward a single unstoppable destination. With wet slaps, I could feel my cock bottoming out in Angel's heavenly cunt. 

"Nice, that is how you do it," the blonde said behind me. I could feel her eyes on my back as she leaned against the door jam. Her tone was sexy and encouraging. "I can tell that slut loves that hard, fat cock."

Angel threw her head back and let loose a howl of epic proportions. The intensity of her scream echoed off the exhibit walls. I was certain that the entire second floor of the museum could hear her cum. 

Unstoppable urges gripped me. I couldn't take the pressure. Angel's orgasm was too much. I had to have a release. Gripping Angel's muscular thighs, I pulled her as far onto my rock-hard shaft as I could. My cock pulsed and throbbed. Every muscle in my body went rigid. I scrunched up my face and groaned. Spurt after spurt of cum shot from my dick into the darkest depths of Angel's pussy.

The walls of Angel's cunt flexed and twitched as it hungrily milked every drop of jizz from my spent cock. She looked at me blankly for a second, her mouth agape. After a week of waiting, hours of teasing, and years of fantasies, one had finally come true for both of us. We had shared something of gargantuan proportions, and she smiled at me knowing we both realized it. 

Then with a crash of realization I dropped Angel to the floor. Shit! There would be guards coming to investigate Angel's scream at any second. I reached down and pulled up my slacks before trying to hide my hard, wet dick back inside them. 

The blonde took control. "Get dressed," she said springing into action. "Hurry. I'll delay any guards that might be coming our way."

Still in shock, I watched the blonde bound from the room. 

Quickly Angel and I finished getting dressed.

*****

A few minutes later, Angel and I were hugging and laughing next to a sculpture outside the front entrance of the museum. 

We had exited the stained glass room just ahead of the guards. Angel's friend had managed to intercept them in the hallway to the side. 

As Angel and I bolted from our sex sanctuary I could hear the blonde saying something about stubbing her toe on a bench. Angel's friend was an excellent diversion that bought us just enough time to escape undetected. After a twist and turn we were free and clear. From there it was easy to exit the building.

Once we were outside Angel took one look at me and burst into giggles. She looked up at me with smiling tears in her eyes and said, "I can't believe we pulled that fucker off. What the shit? I have cum running down my leg."

Somehow the sky seemed bluer and the air crisper. My head had been plunged into any icy river and Angel had pulled it out by the roots. Every nerve ending was awake. I was more alive than I had been in a very long time. I took a deep breath and sighed. "That was absolutely nuts."

"I know," Angel said through a wicked smile. "That was bat shit insane. But we did it. You have some balls, boy. I wasn't sure if you were going to do it. Hell, I wasn't sure if I was gonna do it."

"How could I not? You were naked," I quipped. 

Angel shook her head. "C'mon. You've seen me naked plenty of times and never lost control. You could have backed out."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know about that, but I'll take the compliment." I replied. I scratched my head. "How did you find that room? Where did you get the idea?"

Angel's eyes sparkled as she answered my question, "Work." 

"Huh?"

"I was here with some of my clients when I saw the room. I am not sure why, but I immediately thought that it would be a great place for a fuck."

Now I was even more confused. Angel was a stripper. "Clients?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said her voice trailing off. Angel's eyes darted to the side and she grinned, "Oh look, there's Erika."

Angel and waved and beckoned her friend over. The two women hugged and broke into a fresh round of giggles. 

"You total slut," Erika said. Her voice was a deep and raspy drawl, like she had smoked a few too many cigarettes on some Southern plantation. "I can't believe you did it!"

"I know, neither can I!" Angel answered, giving her an extra squeeze. "Thanks for keeping watch. We would have been caught for sure if you hadn't been there."

"No problem. I couldn't let you talk shit and not see if you had the balls to follow through," Erika said. Her gaze shifted and landed on me. As if appraising a piece of meat she looked me up and down. Erika licked her lips and continued, "Besides, now I know who to talk to if I ever want to try the same thing." 

Angel shook her head and smiled. "And you're the one calling me a slut?"

Erika looked right at me and said, "Yup."



Angel, Stripped Ch. 03



I am having fun with this new series. Is it realistic? Who knows? It is all about fantasy (with a few dashes of reality). Once again, thank you for the comments and feedback. You guys have really motivated me to write. A special thank you goes out to MyKittyStar, who took the time to edit my work. Her attention to detail (and accents) has really improved the story. She has also made this whole process so much more fun. Feel free to send me your thoughts. I will respond. I'd love to hear where you think this should go next. I am not sure myself. Don't forget to vote. Enjoy

Sunday was turning into my favorite day of the week. 

Around 10:00 a.m. I got the call. I picked up my receiver and gave the requisite "Hello?"

"Hey Dave, how're ya' doin'?"

The voice on the other end was sultry and feminine. The way she drew out her words reminded me of the relaxed precision of a cat stretching. The woman sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite put a name to the voice.

"Good," I said. Then in an attempt to fish for information and thus an identity I added, "How are you doing?"

The woman laughed. "Y'all have no idea who this is, do you?" 

I had a flash of inspiration as I placed the Southern accent lingering under the words. "Um, sure I do," I replied trying to fake confidence. "Erika?" 

There was a pause.

Uh oh. Had I guessed incorrectly?   "Right?" I asked. I am sure my voice was quivering with uncertainty.

More laughter. She responded, "You're a lucky devil, you know that? You totally guessed."  "Nope. I knew it."

"Sure, sure," Erika said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

I grinned before asking, "Now that we know each other's names, what can I do for you Erika?"

This was strange. Erika was not the woman I had expected; it was her friend Angel that I had anticipated would ring. I had known Angel for a couple of years. She had been a dancer at the Glass Slipper, a local gentlemen's club, when I had been a frequent patron. Two weeks ago Angel approached me at a Barnes and Noble. We barely made it to the parking lot where we fucked shamelessly in the back of Angel's car. Then last Sunday we banged each other wildly in the art museum. That was when I met Erika. My cock had been busy fucking the honey from Angel's sweet cunt at the time. Erika had been assigned look out duty for my very public fucking of her friend, Angel.

So why was Erika calling?

"Are you havin' a pleasant Sunday afternoon?" Erika asked.

"Sure," I answered before adding, "I have had better though."

"Darn tootin'. Don't I know? I saw it." Erika said, chuckling. 

"I think it's all that sin that really made my last couple of Sundays special," I supplied. "I haven't had much opportunity today though. I am a firm believer that a little sin on the Sabbath makes everything better."

" 'Specially when you have an Angel guidin' you on your fall from grace?"

"Something like that. Having a companion to fall with is always better then just being sinful on one's own," I answered.

"There's less chafin' that way."

"It depends on whether or not one uses lotion."

I was rewarded with another giggle. Then came the awkward pause....

Erika was building up to something. She had stopped and now was gathering her breath. 

Odd, I thought.

"Angel and I," Erika asked her voice now tentative, "were hopin' you could jaunt over to our place for supper tonight. Y'all could probably do with a fillin' of your bread basket, and it's has been awhile since we had a gentleman caller." 

"You're referring to me as a gentleman caller? Are you forgetting how we met?"

"Not at all buddy boy," her voice purred. "Not for one second."

I felt myself getting hot. I readjusted myself on the couch and asked, "What time?"

"How's six-thirty?"

"Should I bring anything?"

"Not really." Erika paused and then added, "Dress casual, though. You might make a mess."

I didn't know how to respond. "Ummm... ok." Erika laughed one more and then said, "See y'all later then."

Then the phone went dead.

For the next few hours I thought of nothing but last Sunday's events. Much of that time was spent doing a mental replay of every delicious thrust I made into Angel's pussy. I also thought about what happened after we left the art museum. 

Which, I'm sad to say was very little.   Angel, Erika, and I went to dinner in a tiny, pearl of a Thai restaurant. The three of us talked and flirted over curried chicken and Pad Thai. The staff convinced us to drink some Thai wine and we all became a little giddy. I learned that Angel and Erika were roommates and co-workers; they had known each other for a couple years before deciding to move in together about nine months ago. Beyond that the ladies played their information close to their chests (which were very nice by the way). They dodged my questions about what they did for a living currently. They also avoided discussing their pasts. Aside from Angel's time at the strip club, a topic that was dissected and discussed in excruciating detail, they had managed to reveal only what they wanted and no more. I vowed that given the opportunity, I would tease that information out of them.

Once dinner was over I asked Angel to come back to my place. Until that moment I had been pretty sure I would get lucky (again!) once I got her alone. But Angel demurred. She smiled, patted me on the cheek, and informed me that she and Erika had to prepare for work the next morning. The job required that they wake up early. When Angel saw me frown, she assured me that we would get together very soon and that our next meeting would be a tasty one. My fantasies instantly took flight. Adding fuel to the fire, Angel gave me a hug and a gentle tug on my crotch before she and Erika drove away.

So I had a lot of questions.

*****

At 6:30 p.m. I knocked on Angel and Erika's front door. A blonde goddess answered. Smiling in freshly painted lipstick, Erika gave me a hug. Then she ushered me inside. Her blonde hair fell in ringlets and curls down past her shoulders. Glasses with boxy and stylish black and white frames rested on her button nose. Erika was wearing a charcoal business skirt suit cut to mid-thigh and some serious stiletto heels. Over that outfit was a plain white apron. 

"Wow! That is quite an outfit," I said, trying not to drool. 

Erika smiled and battered her eyelashes. "Ya like?" she asked her voice dripping with Southern coquettishness. 

"Very much."

"Good. Complements are always welcome. Come on in."

Erika gave my cheek a peck as I squeezed by her. I felt a jolt of electricity as her soft breasts pressed against my shoulder. 

Surprisingly, Erika didn't move or turn away. Instead, she grinned as she noticed me enjoying the sensation. Then she said, "I hope you didn't have trouble findin' the place? Them back roads can be a might tricky." 

"Nope. Mapquest wasn't too bad this time."

"Good, 'though ya really should use Googlemaps." Erika said, breathlessly. She seemed like she didn't know what to do with her hands. Was she nervous? She continued, "Supper's almost ready. Ya hungry?"

"Sure, I guess," I said. 

This was odd, though. We were alone. I looked around the living room; Angel was nowhere to be seen. "But, ummm, where's...."

"Angel?" Erika answered. 

"Yeah."

Erika grinned. There was something devilish and lewd in the way she looked at me. "She's in the dinin' room," Erika said, as she jerked a thumb at a doorway.

I raised an eyebrow, silently asking a question.

Erika tittered nervously. "Have a seat and I'll explain," she said.

I nodded and sat down on the living room love seat. Erika sat on the plush sofa kitty-corner to me. She reached over and patted me lightly on the knee. I noticed the playful gesture and gave her a smirk. Behind her glasses Erika rolled her eyes and grinned. Then Erika said unabashedly, "Angel's a slut."

I raised my eyebrows. While Erika was certainly telling the truth, I wasn't expecting her to just come out and make that statement. "Really?" I responded, not sure where this was going.

Erika backhanded me lightly on the shoulder. "C'mon," she exclaimed. "Don't y'all be so coy. Angel's a slut and you know it."

"Sure. Ok. So what?" I shrugged. 

"That woman... that woman..." Erika began, but her voice trailed off. She gestured a couple of times apparently searching for the right words. After struggling she blurted, "I never know if I should get involved when Angel suggests kickin' up a ruckus. She goes too far sometimes. Like that bit at the art museum. Bless Patsy! That was awfully dangerous. But it also got me all hot an' bothered. Angel is always hankerin' for that sort of entertainment. She has this thing about walkin' up to her limits and pushin' on 'em as hard as she can. You know 'enough 'bout her to know that, right?"

"Yeah," I responded noncommittally. 

"Well last night I reckon Angel was in one'a her moods," Erika said. "She suggested I give ya a call this mornin'. She wanted to try somethin' unusual, somethin' new. But she needed an accomplice to help her out. I can't say no to her. Never have been able to. I go right along with what was in her mind. So I rang you an' I set this evenin' up. A'right?"

"Sure."

Erika looked me in the eyes and held my gaze. I could tell that whatever she was about to say next was what she had really been trying to say.

"She was fixin' that you wouldn't mind if I hung around and lent a hand... or a person I mean," Erika said, her voice so soft and liquor smooth.

I squinted, studying Erika's blushing face. For a moment I was distracted. This woman was beautiful in a peaches and cream sort of way. If I wasn't careful I would end up falling for those deep, liquid eyes and soft, pillowy lips. And then where would I be? I needed to focus and not on that sultry, sexy smile but rather on the woman that I came to see. This was going to be difficult.

"Really?" I asked in response.

She smirked, crossed her arms, and stored back. "Yes."

I nodded. "Good."

I could see Erika breathe and sigh. Then she added, "I reckon I've prepared a supper unlike you had before. I guarantee ya'll have a grand time. Ya just need to trust me."

"Ok," I said. Something had been bothering me ever since I first met Erika. I had to know. "First, I have a question. Are you and Angel...." My voice trailed off as I was searching for the right word.

"Lovers?" Erika interjected. "Is that what you to know?" 

"Yes," I answered.

Erika flipped her blonde hair and gave me a toothy grin. Not answering, her eyes said it all. 

Erika winked and changed subjects, "There are rules 'bout what's gonna happen tonight," the blonde decreed.

"Fair enough. Structure can be a good thing."

Erika chuckled and then said, "Unless I ask y'all a direct question, I don't wanna' hear ya' talkin'. I'm the only one allowed to say anythin'. And you do what I say. Agreed?" 

Erika's voice had changed. Sure it was still a sexy Southern drawl, but now there was a new element – control. Her uneasiness was gone; her every word was carefully measured and planned.

I was caught by surprise. I hadn't seen this side from Erika yet. Until now she had seemed a little brassy but still unassuming. I thought about testing her just to see what would happen but I decided that I didn't want to argue. Going along and being an enthusiastic accomplice could have its own rewards. "Sure," I agreed.

"Excellent," Erika smiled, as she stood up from the couch. Just from her stance I could tell that the blonde was much calmer and relaxed then she had been when I had entered the apartment. Her secrets had been put in the open and I had not balked. I knew part of her game and so now we could play.

Erika walked to the dining room door. She stood and gestured with a flourish, "Let's go get some supper."

I opened the door and stepped inside. 

The dining room was cozy, but not too small. Along one wall was a buffet laden with food. In the center of the room was a wooden table covered with a black plastic tarp. Lying on the tarp was a very naked Angel. 

Angel's legs were spread wide and she was absently toying with one of her nipple rings. Her other hand was resting on her flat stomach. 

Angel's cunt was wide open. I could tell that her shaved pussy was dripping wet, probably from thinking about whatever Erika had in store for the evening. Angel was a busty, sex doll exposed and open to a wanton night of debauchery.

Angel was also blindfolded.

"Erika is that you?" Angel asked.  

"Yes?"

"Is anyone with you?"

"Yes," Erika answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "The entire football team from the high school down the street is here. I had 'em strip in the other room. I hear tell they gonna rip you up. They lookin' at ya nekkid and are tugging on their wangs. They're planning to gang-bang you one-by-one, 'til you can't walk straight. How's that sound?"

"Shit bitch! Riding that train sounds fucking amazing. Bring on the cocks!"

"Startin' with the biggest first?"

"Totally. I wanna feel him ruin me for all of the other guys on the team."

"Slut!"

Angel laughed. "But really, is anyone with you Erika or are you just being a tease? This is the fifth time you've come in here."

"Ya uppity skank," Erika muttered playfully before she responded, "If your asking if your gentleman caller is here, he's standin' next to me."

"Mmmmmm hmmmmmn...." Angel gently moaned. "Really? You aren't just teasing me again?"

"Nope. How many times do ya'll think I can cry wolf?"

"Too many," Angel said before whimpering, "I've been waiting for him for ages. I can touch my cunt now, right?"

"Of course not," Erika said, her voice sickly sweet. "Y'all'ready knew the answer to that question."

Angel's left hand, which had been drifting south, stopped. She stuck out her bottom lip and pouted Angel, in all her naked glory, was absolutely adorable. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to snuggle with her. But most of all, I had an urge right there to drop my pants, grab her hips, and start ramming her pussy with my cock. 

And I would have done just that if I had not felt Erika's hand on my shoulder. The blonde turned to face me and shook her head. I got the sense that fucking was on the menu, but it would be a dessert rather then an appetizer.

"Last Sunday ya helped Angel fulfill a fantasy she'd been dreamin' on for an awfully long time," Erika said, looking at me. "While all y'all may not have much horse sense; it was absolutely amazin'. Angel and I haven't been able to stop talkin' 'bout it. Sexy as it was though, I'm not figurin' any of us are ready to repeat the stress of last weekend. One can be a might bit too public."

I nodded, listening intently.

"But that don't mean we don't wanna play."

I grinned.

Erika continued the story, "Last night,   Angel knew she'd a hankerin' for y'all to come over. I guess she'd that itch again. She told me she'd execute another one of her naughty dreams. This time there won't be any danger of getting caught. Rather she wants to do somethin' jus' as sexy, but in an awfully different way. Last night Angel revealed she wanted to be laid out on the table and served up for supper. She says she wants to be smeared with food and licked right clean. She wants a tongue on every part of her."

Erika paused, "How's that sound?"

I looked at Erika holding the silence. Erika responded with a wicked smile. "You listened. Very nice," she said. "Go ahead and say it."

I looked Erika in the eye and murmured, "Delicious."

"He is here," Angel blurted excitedly. I guess until this moment she hadn't been sure I was in the room.

"I told ya he is. Would I lie to ya dearie?" Erika asked, as she walked over to the buffet. "Now be quiet. The both of you and listen."

The blonde picked up two green bowls. The first had several pieces of cantaloupe stripped of their rinds. The second bowl was filled with red grapes. She placed both bowls on the table and gestured for me to step forward.

"Let's begin with her tootsies, shall we? Dave, take her feet and put one into each bowl. Hold the bowls nice and tight so none of that goodness spills."

I gave Erika a bemused expression and then lifted Angel's left foot. I placed it down in the cantaloupe; then I did the same thing with her right foot and the grapes. Each time I placed a foot in a bowl Angel shivered and moaned, "Ooooooohhhh."

Erika continued, "Angel, Honey, squeeze your toes. Feel that fruit between your little piggies. Squish and squash whatever's there until it's a pulp."

I held Angel's ankles as she contracted her feet. When she squeezed, the fruit made a lush liquid squish. I am not sure I had ever seen anything so bizarrely sensuous. Wet clumps of fruit oozed between Angel's toes. Her heels dug in, liquefying the fruit. The cantaloupe became an orange drippy mess, and the grapes went pop under the pressure. 

"That's cold and wet. What's in the bowls?" Angel squeaked.

I was surprised. I had thought that Angel knew the game she was playing.

Erika's response was all Southern charm. She smoothed Angel's hair and said, "That's an appetizer. Y'all's friend's gonna eat the first course right off your feet."

Until now that thought hadn't occurred to me. I had never thought I was into feet. Sure, like all other parts of a woman, feet could be pretty. High heels were nice and boots were even better, but I had never really thought too much about feet as singular sexual objects. 

Foot play had always seemed foreign and out there, a bundling of bizarre desire demanded by other people. Until now....

Watching Angel squish fruit between her toes was captivating. But to take one of those feet into my mouth and lick her frothy skin? To let those decadent juices dribble down my chin? To slather my tongue along the curled arches of her feet? To nibble at her heels and cradle my face in that goopy, pulpy mess? I couldn't think of a more hedonistic pleasure! 

I lifted Angel's left foot to my mouth. I guessed it to be about a size six or seven. The arch was slender and the balls of her feet were well rounded. Angel had a French pedicure that looked freshly done. Clumps and strings of cantaloupe dangled from her dusky skin. 

Angel's big toe passed between my lips. I could hear her gasp as I took that first, scrumptious digit into my mouth. I suckled on the pad underneath, cleaning up all of the delicious juice on her skin. My teeth gently scraped Angel's skin, soliciting a soft, plaintive moan. 

"Mmmmm hmmmmn, that feels so good. I haven't had anyone lick my feet for a long, long time" Angel gasped. "Oh God, I want more..." 

I added Angel's second, third, and fourth toes to my mouth. My tongue began to swirl and play with the in-between spaces and crevices. 

Angel twitched and wiggled her toes in response. She also bent her leg at the knee. I had to firmly hold her ankle to keep my mouth on her succulent feet. 

I moved from her left foot to her right. This time though I stuck all five toes into my mouth. The flavor of grapes replaced cantaloupe. I extended my tongue as far as it could go past my lips so I could caress the underside of Angel's arch. Back and forth I swiped bathing Angel's foot with my tongue.

"So good," Angel gasped. "I love that. I could just spend hours letting you do that to me. Mmmmm hmmmm.... Yes... This might be better then cumming...."

Angel's voice trailed off while her body slowly undulated. Something deep and powerful was bubbling under her skin. Angel was losing herself to the sensation; she was floating away on a soft cloud of bliss.

I felt Erika behind me. I was leaning over Angel, so I could take her foot in my mouth. Erika bent at the waist to match the contour of my position. There was no space between us.  Her body pressed warmly into mine. Erika placed her hand on my stomach and began to slide it down. Hers was a slow, teasing descent. When Erika reached my bourgeoning crotch she gave it a gentle pat. Her voice was a breathy whisper, when she asked, "Can I take it out?"




Angel, Stripped Ch. 03



I didn't say a word. Instead I nodded and I continued to tongue Angel's toes. Angel's blonde roommate didn't need any further instruction. Rather, she grasped my zipper and gave it swift tug. Then she reached inside my pants and wrapped her hand around my thickening cock. I could feel the veins pulse under her tight grip. Then with a slight flick of the wrist my fuck-stick was free from my pants.

I dipped Angel's feet back in the bowls before bringing them both back to my mouth. I was indecisive. I couldn't decide whether to attack the left or right foot first, so instead I rapidly shifted from one to another. Back and forth, I went. Flavors shifted: first cantaloupe, then grape, then cantaloupe again. I licked, sucked, and gobbled with delighted glee. 

Meanwhile Erika stroked my meat to a lewd rhythm. Under her touch I became hard and throbbing. A small dribble of pre-cum flowed from the tip of my cock. This was becoming too much of a tease. I needed to move on; I wanted more. 

Erika, sensing my desire, breathed, "I want to see you fuck her feet."

I didn't understand. I had fucked Angel's pussy and mouth. I could imagine fucking her ass. I was even able to envision fucking her tits; they were such soft and delightful mounds. But fucking Angel's feet?

Sensing my confusion, Erika asked, "You've never fucked a woman's feet before?" 

I shook my head no.  The blonde giggled as she continued to stroke my dick. The tone of her voice sounded as if she were instructing a child, "It's quite simple really. All ya have to do is bring that slut's feet together, arch to arch. See how that forms a hole?"

I nodded.

"Good!" Erika exclaimed enthusiastically. "Now coat your dick in some of that there foot goop, so it's all sloppy wet. "Ohhhh yeah, that looks nice and juicy. Now you know what to do, right? Line your cock up with that hole and slide it in. Hold onto her feet and use it jus' like you would her pussy."

I did just as I was told. I don't think I'd ever been more motivated to follow directions. 

My cock was lubricated and juicy with the drippings from the two bowls. I pressed Angel's feet tight around my dick and pushed my hips forward. Despite the fruit mush, I could feel the soles of Angel's feet gripping the length of my shaft. 

While screwing Angel's feet was not as pleasurable as screwing her pussy (how could they be?) there was something very erotic about what I was doing. Using Angel's feet in this way was forbidden beyond the pale. Feet existed strictly for utility; they were not supposed to be sexual. Pleasure was not a part of their equation. But here I was, slamming my hips forward, ramming my dick between this slut's soles.

Angel's body writhed as she threw her head back. I heard her mutter softly, "Fuck, fuck, ummm.... Oh fuck, fuck, oh my fuck... Gawd fuck.... Mmmmmm hmmmmmm....."

Erika reached around and grasped the top side of Angel's feet. I removed my hands, as the blonde held Angel's arches tight to my cock. I leaned back against Erika's body and closed my eyes. I was free to surrender myself to this new form of fuck.

"Angel is a foot freak. Did y'all know that?" Erika whispered in my ear. "She'll let you play with her toes for hours; providin' you allow her such pleasure. She's like a pig in heat. Can you smell her cunt? I reckon I can."

Sure enough, I could smell Angel's arousal on the air. Her sharp and tangy scent was the perfect aphrodisiac. I groaned in lustful need and continued to thrust. 

I felt weightless as I moved my hips back and forth. Orgasm was not immanent. There wasn't enough friction for me to be in danger of cumming. Really it was the deviant freakishness of this fuck that was most exciting. I had never considered humping a woman's feet before. 

But now that was exactly what I was doing. 

I don't know how long I did the nasty with Angel's pretty, little feet: it must have been several minutes before Erika released her grip. Angel's legs fell back to the table and my dick was suddenly loose.

She grabbed my cock below the head and yanked. Erika walked me around the table like a dog on a leash. She led me so that I was standing next to Angel's head, then she clutched Angel's hair and pushed her face towards my cock. Then the blonde gave my stripper friend a single order.

"Suck."

Angel opened her mouth and engulfed my dick. I felt an instant wave of heat as she swallowed my rod. Once again I could only marvel at Angel's cocksucking abilities. She was a true, first-string virtuoso. Even blindfolded she could easily take my dick down to the short and curlies. 

Erika stood behind me while watching her roommate inhale my cock. The blonde undid the first two buttons of my shirt and reached inside. Taking my left nipple between her thumb and forefinger, she gave me a tiny tweak. My reaction was inevitable; I grunted and shoved my dick deeper down Angel's throat. 

Angel turned on her side and reached behind me. She grabbed my ass cheeks in her hands. Her sharp nails dug into my flesh. I moaned as the sensations of pleasure and pain mixed together. Opening her mouth as wide as she could my stripper slut pulled me toward her. 

My heartbeat counted the seconds. For about half a minute Angel plugged me into the back of her throat. Like a dervish her tongue whipped and lashed at my dick. Her metal stud brushed hotly against my glands. Her nose was buried against my skin. Electric jolts of pleasure coursed through my body as Angel gobbled down my rod.

"There you go, ohh she's deep throatin' you...." Erika marveled.

And then came release....

Angel gulped down long swallows of air as my cock popped free of her mouth. Between breaths she gasped, "So good... I could taste... my feet. Fuck that was hot!"

"Do you want him to fuck your face?" I heard Erika inquire. 

"Yes," Angel panted, "and I want him to cum. I want him to shoot down my throat."

Erika pinched my nipple and slapped my ass. "You heard the slut," she demanded. Her sexy Southern drawl had taken on a dark insidious tone, "Stick your cock in her mouth and fuck her face. Use her lips like they were a pussy and FUCK HER!!!"

I did as I was ordered. I braced my hands on either side of Angel's head and tugged her onto my meat. Her lips parted as she took my thrust. Like a drill, the head of my dick penetrated her mouth. The ball of her tongue stud slid along my shaft. She gagged and spit came bubbling up. I thrust again.

I wasn't going to last long. I'd dreamed of fucking Angel's face all week long; now my fantasies were coming true. Her lips were spread and her head was guided by my hands. I only had to slam my way home.

"Do it! Fuck her face!" Erika groaned in my ear. "She wants it. She wants all of your cum. She wants you to shoot down her throat so she can swallow your juice. Fucking do it! Shoot your load!"

I growled and the floodgates opened. My hips jerked wildly as I sent several ropes of jizz screaming from my balls. Angel took the first three shots like a pro. But everyone has their limits. My load became too much; she gasped, choking on the torrent (I had not shot any spunk for several days). The fourth and fifth shots of nut splashed across her forehead and cheek. The sixth dribbled from her chin.

I stumbled backwards, drained, into Erika's arms. She held me tight and stroked my chest. Her fingertips calmed me as I struggled to bring my breathing back to its normal rate. 

Angel was a fucking mess. Her feet dripped with cantaloupe and grape; stray splatters of fruit peppered her skin, the thick blindfold still covered her eyes, three stripes of dick-chowder crisscrossed her face, and girl-cum dripped from Angel's pussy pooling at the juncture between her legs 

Angel licked her lips and wagged her tongue at me. The slut toyed with the mess covering her face. Moaning, Angel scooped up the stray strands of cum and brought them to her mouth. 

Droplets of spunk clung lewdly to her moist, pink, mouth muscle. She licked each of her cum-soaked fingertips with an audible "pop." Angel smiled deeply and gave a contented, self-satisfied sigh. 

"Mmmmmm hmmmmnnn.... Yummy," Angel sighed. She was the perfect image of a cat who got the cream.

Erika wiped Angel down with a wet cloth. Although Angel wouldn't be considered daisy-fresh; Erika got most of the mess cleaned up (although I was sure there would be a crusty residue). For my part I fell back on a chair panting. I decided to wait for whatever lascivious possibility would be suggested next.

As Erika put away the towel she said, "I reckon that we don't need to do the silence thing anymore. I think the remainder of our supper would be more enjoyable if we can both talk. What do y'all think?"

"Sounds good to me. Should we keep Angel blindfolded though?"

Erika grinned. "Absolutely. She wanted this so now she is goin' to get it." She then asked, "Think you can recharge?"

"I am chatting with a hot blonde and there's a naked, blindfolded woman on the table. I wouldn't worry." 

Shrugging her shoulders Erika said, "While we wait would y'all care for a drink? I'm going to have one."

"Sure. What are you having?"

"Tequila."

I probably looked confused. I wasn't expecting alcohol that hard. Besides unless it was mixed in a margarita, tequila wasn't a dinner drink. Why would she choose....

My mouth fell open, as I figured it out.

Body shots.

Erika grinned and nodded. "I think this might be just the thing to get you warmed up again."

I chuckled.

Erika grabbed a bowl of lime wedges and a salt shaker from the buffet. The blonde also picked up two shot glasses and a bottle of Tezon. With a flourish she poured the golden anejo liquid, filling each shooter to just below the rim. 

I looked down at Angel. She was lying very still, a beatific and patient smile lighting her face. I wasn't sure if Angel had figured out what was going to happen next or if she was just very satisfied.

Erika placed her hand on Angel's forehead. Gently, Erika ran her fingers through Angel's long, chestnut locks. "Angel honey," Erika said sweetly "Open your mouth and then bite down on the lime."

Erika put the rind side of a lime wedge in Angel's mouth; the brunette did as she was told and clamped down. Erika handed me the salt shaker and asked, "Would ya' like to do the honors?"

"Sure," I replied, as I made a small pile of salt on Angel's right breast. 

"Make sure y'all put some on the other one too," Erika drawled. "I thought I might also have a drink."

I grinned and coated Angel's left breast.

"Care to go first?" I asked.

"How gentlemanly," Erika purred. "What nice manners to let the lady take the first body shot."

"You're the one that labeled me a gentleman caller." I grinned and bowed slightly at the waist. I am sure that I looked quite comical sans pants.

Erika giggled as Angel waited expectantly. The brunette was so still that she looked like she was holding her breath. The blonde raised her glass and said, "Cheers." I clinked my shooter against hers and a few cool drops of liquid dribbled onto Angel's navel.

Lightning quick, Erika threw back the glass and gulped the liquid. She then leaned down and took Angel's tit flesh in her hands. Erika's soft, pink lips capped the salty nipple. For a long second she suckled at Angel's salty breast; then she broke the spell and moved on. This time she was at Angel's mouth, squeezing the lime between her teeth. 

Erika whipped her golden hair back as she stood up right. "God that is good, so smoky and smooth. And such nice tits too," she said as she tugged roughly on Angel's nipple ring.

Angel squealed as Erika placed a fresh lime wedge into her mouth. Now it was my turn.

I tilted the glass back and felt the burning liquid hit my tongue. I let the tequila rest as I leaned down. I studied Angel's breasts. I couldn't get enough of those heaping mounds. So large, firm, and fleshy; those mounds had played a lead role in my night time dreams. 

I swallowed the liquid, feeling it scald my throat. My tongue snaked between my lips and lifted the pile of salt. In doing so, I grazed Angel's expectant nipple. Behind the lime, she gasped. I couldn't help giving Angel a second lick.

I then moved to her lips. My mouth pressed against Angel's as we came together in a kiss. 

Our tongues met, dancing around the lime wedge. Angel's hand snaked out and grabbed my cock....

"Hey, hey, hey none of that uppity shit!" Erika admonished as she roughly smacked Angel's left tit. "Ya know that dog won't hunt without permission."

"Sorry," Angel muttered.  

"Better be."

Erika and I took two more shots each. The second salt pile was also off of Angel's breasts while the third was from her navel. I was hoping that we would migrate further south and slam a fourth from Angel's cunt (I would have loved to see Erika lick the salt), but instead Erika said, "Let's have the main course."

Not wanting to show my disappointment I just shrugged and said, "Sure."

Angel on the other hand went ballistic, "Gawd damn! I have been lying here on my back, fucking naked, for who knows how long. I have been waiting for something to happen and instead it has been torture. And just when it seemed like someone was going to give me some relief you change the plan! C'mon, is that fair? Can't I have a little lick?"

Erika smiled.

"Is that what you want, honey? Tell me truthfully," Erika purred. "Do you want a moist tongue on your sweet cunt?"

Angel squirmed as she savored Erika's words. I couldn't help recalling several moments when I watched Angel writhe in a similar position on the stage of the Slipper. I wanted her so badly back then. She was the untouchable slut of my dreams. Now I had carnal knowledge of Angel (twice), but I still wanted her just as much. I ached seeing her open and ready like this.

Angel gasped softly, "Yessssssss...."

Erika nodded. She placed both hands palm down on Angel's thighs. Pursing her lips, Erika inched towards Angel's pussy. 

Only a breath away, Erika pushed hot air through her lips. Extending her tongue she slowly swabbed the length of Angel's slit 

I could hear Angel draw in her breath when Erika's tongue touched down. She gasped, "Ohhhhhhhh yes! Fuck, mmmmmn hmmmmmmn...."

Erika stood up and smacked Angel roughly across her pussy before saying, "Enough. That was your one lick. Now your friend and I need to have dinner."

Angel's response was instantaneous. "No please," she whined, "I need you to eat me. I want to cum. Please help me cum."

Erika smacked her again. 

"Quiet." Erika's voice was chill and harsh. "You are just making it worse for yourself. Stay quiet and lie there. If you do that you might get some relief. Dave, come with me."

Erika turned and left the room. I looked down at my helpless Angel. While I wanted to do a million naughty things her I was also enjoying Erika's game. Angel had teased and tormented me for so long. She had been the cause of countless un-requited hard-ons. Any relief I had experienced eventually was caused by my own hand, rather then her luscious anatomy. And I had paid for it too....

Fuck her! Let her stew, and fester, and swelter with need. Let her see how it feels to be on the other end of the exchange. It is a rare day that the stripper is the one who begs.

I followed Erika.

*****

She led me into kitchen. Once there, Erika handed me a large bucket filled with ice cubes, water, and a sponge. A few rose petals floated on the surface, giving the liquid a faint flowery smell. Erika grabbed a large tray, laden with sushi, from the refrigerator. 

Winking at me, Erika said, "Let's have our main course."

Angel lay quietly on the dining room table. Apparently, she had decided to control her outbursts. Now she was a study in still silence. But Erika's plan would change all that.

Erika took the bucket from me. With a twinkle in her eye, she reached inside and pulled out the sponge. While holding the squishy foam object over Angel's breasts, Erika rung out the icy-cold liquid,

Angel sat bolt upright and howled, "FUCKIN' BITCH!!!" as she was doused in cold water. I couldn't help but admire how her large tits shook and jiggled under the sudden strain. 

Erika took a step back and laughed. It was a deep and throaty sound. I could tell that she had waited for a long time for this moment. 

Perhaps it was the culmination of the entire evening's events for Erika. She had worked long and hard to sock it to her roommate and now Angel was squarely gotten.

"Did I... forget... to tell ya about the cold water?" Erika asked between chuckles and snorts. "Oops, my bad. Ya will have to pardon lil' ol' me. Now I figure we are even for that incident with the copy machine and the pickle."

"Pickle?" I asked.

Erika waved down my question and I silenced myself.

Angel yelled, "Fuck that shit is cold though! Ice water on my tits, you cold-ass bitch! I ought to thrash you."

"But ya won't," Erika replied, "at least not while I control the only cock around. So lie back. I need to cool you down a little bit more."

"You aren't dousing me with any more of that shit, are you?"

"I most certainly am," Erika answered, "we need to have dinner."

For the next several minutes I watched Erika rub Angel down with ice-cold water. I think Erika got every nook and crevice of Angel's body. Angel swore and cursed up a storm while she was plied with the sponge, but she didn't stop Erika. Instead, Angel laid still, nipples erect and clit distended as that sponge rubbed her from head to toe. Her skin gleamed wetly with a moist sheen.

After probably five minutes of ice water torture, Erika wiped Angel down with a towel. When the cloth touched her skin, I heard Angel sigh with relief. She had survived this challenge and was ready for another.

When she was done using the towel, Erika started placing bits of sushi directly onto Angel's body. Colorful rolls and nigiri were coordinated into several formations along Angel's breasts, stomach, and thighs. Suddenly, I could feel my stomach rumbling. Here I was at dinner and until now I had forgotten all about food. 

"Hold very still and be quiet," Erika drawled. The blonde gazed intently at her friend's body, almost like an artist might survey a completed canvas. Pieces were added here and there to round out the design. When satisfied that her work was complete, Erika placed twin rose petal's over Angel's aroused nipples; a white lily was added to cap Angel's cunt.

Unable to hold back her curiosity, Angel asked, "Ummmm... Erika what are you doing?" 

I had forgotten that Angel couldn't see. She had no idea what had been over then length of her body.

"Sushi, honey. Sushi," Erika answered, before addressing me. "Do you use wasabi, soy sauce, and ginger Dave?" I nodded, and Erika gave me the necessary condiments and bowls. She also handed me a pair lacquered chopsticks (none of that cheap wood stuff).

Erika sat down and gestured to the adjoining chair. I took my seat and picked up my first piece of sushi (a spicy tuna roll). 

Erika did the same and started to talk. 

"Angel and I are sushi fanatics. We are always buying stuff from the restaurant down the street and bringin' it home. We've been experimentin' with makin' our own. I don't reckon that either of us will be able to make a living as sushi chefs anytime soon, but we do ok. And it is fun."

"Did you make this?" I asked. "It is very good," and that was no lie.

"No. Atsuo-san, the restaurant owner, made the food for us. He insisted on giving me the sushi for half off when I told him what we were doing."

"You told Atsuo-san?" Angel said in disbelief.

"Of course," Erika grinned. "I figured he would want to know. He's the one who told us about this tradition, and he is quite smitten by you. Besides I got the sushi really cheap because I told him. I bet if I had invited him along we would have got everything for free."




Angel, Stripped Ch. 03



"Probably," Angel muttered, clearly bemused, "but I was a stripper not a whore."

"Sure, sure," Erika answered. I could tell by the tone of Erika's voice that she wasn't convinced. 

"I'm not," Angel pouted, trying to have the last word in the discussion.

Erika picked up a yellowtail, smiled and said, "Be still and be quiet, Angel. You'll destroy the serenity of the moment."

Angel and I both snorted at the incongruity of Erika's last statement.

....And I was confused. "So I understand that there is a serious food fetish at play here but why are we eating sushi off Angel's naked body? And I guess I could understand why a sushi chef would dream of such things, but why would he have talked about doing this with you guys?"

"Because we're hot and he wants to do us," Erika deadpanned, breaking the two ladies back into roiling fits of laughter.

I raised an eyebrow and shook my head in disbelief. 

"Ok, ok," Erika said. "A couple weeks ago we were sitting at the sushi bar watching Atsuo-san make our rolls. Like usual we started talking about his time in Japan before coming to the U.S. This time he brought up how he missed the tradition of Nyotaimori."

"Nyotaimori?" I asked.

"Yeah, the art of body sushi." Erika answered. "The ultimate decadent experience for wealthy Japanese men is to go to sushi restaurants and participate in Nyotaimori. They sit around a long table and wait for the beautiful woman who would be their serving platter. She would lay back on the table completely nude. Her yummy bits would be shaved hairless and they would be covered with flowers. The woman would also be cooled down with rose water so that the temperature of the sushi could be preserved for a longer time."

Gulping down a roll laden with crunch I asked, "And then they would eat?"

"Yes sometimes it would take several hours. During the entire time the woman would have to keep perfectly still.

"Would the men have sex with the woman later, after they were done eating?"

"Nope, and that's the strange thing. The whole experience is supposed to be about beauty and tranquility rather than sex; I think it's a load of horse shit. There's no way a woman lyin' naked under the scrutinizin' gaze of a bunch of horny ol' men isn't sexual. I guess the whole experience is one big ol' tease."

"Is that the reason for the strategically placed flowers?"

"Exactly."

"And is the white lily over Angel's pussy supposed to symbolize purity?"

Erika chuckled, "Purity for Angel's a stretch isn't it?"

"Yup, I don't think there is anything pure about her."

"Maybe she's a pure slut?"

"Maybe."

"You know I can hear you guys," Angel interjected.

Erika and I couldn't help but snicker. 

This was an absurd situation. I would have never imagined that one day I would eat sushi off of a naked woman's body. The more amusing thing, however, was that she had to be perfectly still as we continued our conversation.

"Are the diners allowed to touch?"

Erika grinned. "Japanese etiquette wouldn't allow for that."

"But we aren't Japanese," I retorted.

"I know," Erika smirked.

I had eaten several pieces of sushi while Erika had been talking; my hunger for food was satiated. I could, however, feel my hunger being transformed into lust. I lifted the white lily off of Angel's honey pot and spread her legs.

Staring at Angel's delectable cunt I said, "I think we should maintain one Japanese tradition, though."

"Oh? That is?" Erika asked munching contentedly on a nigiri plucked from Angel's breast.

"I think that Angel should stay completely still."

"Agreed," Erika laughed. "Otherwise she might disrupt the tranquility of our experiences." 

"You fucking teases!" Angel blurted.

"Ya know ya like it," Erika scoffed. "Now be quiet."

Angel's pussy was now open to my touch. Rather then use my fingertips, I wet my chopsticks between my lips. I then placed both of the sticks against the soft, fleshy skin that separated her cunt and asshole.

"Angel, do you know why they call this part of your body the taint?" I asked.

"No," Angel responded.

"Because it ain't your ass and it ain't your pussy," I answered. Erika chortled at my joke quietly. Slowly then, I slid each of the sticks in opposite directions until they were lying against Angel's cunny and sphincter. "But you don't have to worry about that anymore. Now the sticks are pressed up against both of your entrances. They are ready to slide in."

"They feel good," Angel murmured. 

"Would you like them inside of you?"

"Yes."

"Both of them?"

"Fuck yes."   I started with Angel's cunt. I ran the chopstick along the length of her quim, soaking the lacquer in girl-juice. Angel was wet and dripping; she was ready. 

I slid the chopstick inside of her damp pussy hole, soliciting a gasp from between her lips. I was genuinely surprised. I knew that Angel was turned on, but I wasn't expecting this sort of response. Simply put, a chopstick is not very large. There is no girth to clamp onto. But that didn't matter. Angel was a woman in heat. She needed something – anything – in her cunt. 

I fucked Angel with the first chopstick, watching her writhe. I could tell that the movements were frustrating to her. The chopstick was better then nothing, but it was also contributing to her need. Her desire was spiraling upward as the lacquered surface slid in and out of her pink cunt.

Erika, who was still eating sushi off of Angel's tits, hollered, "Give her the other one too. She likes it up the butt. Shove that chopstick up her asshole!"

I grinned and pulled on Angel's body to line her butt against the edge of the table. 

Angel squealed twice. The first was surprise; the second was shock. With a slight push the chopstick slid past her starfish and into her ass.

Slowly at first I began to work the chopstick into Angel's butt. The ring of her ass clutched the lacquered stick, but with some pressure she was able to take it in. Within a couple of minutes I had the chopstick several inches deep.  

Now I could have some fun. I moved each stick, one at a time, in and out of Angel's sex holes. They were like twin pistons in my hands. I fell into a rhythm. Each stick pumped Angel's most private zones. 

Then I heard a loud smack and Angel shriek. Erika yelled, "Don't move," before swatting at Angel's breast again. "I reckon ya need to stay perfectly still."

I could see Angel's muscles tighten. Her breath became raspy. Erika was now playing with Angel's breasts, flicking the nipple rings with her fingers; the rose petal having already been pushed aside. I could see the strain in Angel's neck. 

An orgasm was approaching that she was trying to fight off. Who would have thought that chopsticks would have been enough?! If she came, the release would be too great. Angel could not remain still. She would not be able to hold back. Spasms would tear through her body ripping away all control.

Erika leaned down and licked Angel's nipple. I heard the blonde whisper, her voice all Southern honeysuckle, "Don't move... don't move... don't move.... Hold back baby. You can fight through it. Don't move...."

And Angel tried, boy did she try. I could see her knuckles clench and her toes curl as she fought back against the demon ravaging her insides. Torture was lined on her face. Her breath was a ragged gasp. I have to commend her. Despite her struggle, regardless of the war being fought under her skin and through her muscles, Angel's body remained flat and still....

At least until Erika bit down Angel's nipple. The nubbin capping her fleshy tit was sharply erect. The skin was tout and crinkled and at complete attention. Erika had been idly toying with the silver ring dangling from the tip. With a devilish gleam in her eye, Erika clamped her teeth at the nipple's base. That simple action was enough to send Angel careening over the edge.

A primal force seized Angel, shook her, and would not let go. She brayed and howled, screaming at the heavens, "OH FUUUUUUCCCKKKKKK!!! OH GAWD FUCK!!!! OHHHHHHHHHH...." Her hips bucked up and down spasmodically, ripping the chopsticks from my fists. Erika looked surprised too, but she remained firmly clamped to Angel's tit. 

I couldn't fault Angel. She held on as long as she could. We had teased and tortured her far beyond what most people would be able to take. After all, she had been in a heightened sexual state for several hours. Erika's restrictions had only increased Angel's desire and desperation. Until now, no release had been offered. Two chopsticks and a single bite (ferocious as it may have been) were enough to release the floodgates and send her spilling on through.

Angel gasped and heaved, shaking uncontrollably. Her mouth fluttered open and closed several times, but no discernable words tumbled out. There was only a guttural rasp as she fought to seize control over her breath. 

Erika and I stood back and watched Angel with awe. Neither of us had been expecting her explosion. The power and force of Angel's orgasm was breathtaking. She was a violent force of nature: an earthquake, a hurricane, a tsunami. What could ever top that?

I pulled the chopsticks from Angel's pussy and ass and placed them on the table. A lone piece of sushi remained, left over from dinner.   During Angel's orgasm it had slid off her stomach onto the black tarp covering the table.

Erika picked up the chopsticks and along with them the stray piece of sushi. She held the roll up to her nose and giggled, "This smells funky, perhaps a little fishier than it should." She then waved it under my nose and asked, "What do ya think?"

I inhaled deeply. The dueling aromas of Angel's ass and cunt made for a heady bouquet. 

I raised my hands in a halting sign and shook my head. "Not for me," I laughed.

What happened next was simply shocking. I knew Angel was a slut (and I adored her for it), but I had not expected this level of depravity. I had thought there were limits. In retrospect, I am not so sure.

Angel was now lying on her side, curled up on the table. Erika, still holding the sushi roll between the chopsticks, stood by her head. 

Lightly, gently, lovingly Erika reached down stroked Angel's hair. Something tender passed between the two ladies as one comforted the other. Then the moment passed into memory as Erika began the final humiliation.

"Angel honey," Erika whispered softly, "I want you to do something for me. I want you to eat this last piece of sushi."

Speaking in a sleepy, little girl voice Angel demurred, "No, I don't want it.'

"Why not? It's teensy-weensy." Erika asked patiently as if she was talking to a reticent child.

"I'm not hungry."

Still blindfolded Angel didn't know which chopsticks were being used or where they had been. In all reality such thought was beyond her. In her present state Angel was barely cognizant of her surroundings. 

So it was very cruel for Erika to push the issue.

"Please, do it for me Angel honey," Erika pleaded. "It's the last piece and I don't wanna to waste it. C'mon I figure ya'll need some nourishment after what you just did."

Clearly Angel didn't have the energy to argue. She just wanted to resolve the issue. "Fine," she said opening her mouth wide.

Erika topped the roll with a piece of ginger and dropped it into Angel's expectant mouth. 

Angel closed her mouth and chewed. For a moment she seemed to enjoy the food. Then she heard Erika giggle. That brief burst of laughter helped Angel put the necessary events together. Unfortunately for her, by the time she had everything figured out she had already swallowed the sushi.

"Is that...." Angel's voice trailed off. I could hear the disbelief and shock, raw and rumbling.

Erika laughed. She didn't need to say more.

"Oh fuck...." Angel groaned as she broke into a fit of laughter. "Bitch... I can't believe you...."

"I know, I know," Erika said, "but ya owed me. Ya gotta admit that."

"True."

"And now we're even."

Angel grimaced and then laughed, "Fair enough, but now I am going to take off this damn blindfold so you won't catch me in your steaming lies again."

"Sure." 

Angel took off the blindfold and squinted in the light. She looked at Erika and I and broke into a fresh fit of giggles. "That was one bitchin' orgasm, you know? I wasn't expecting anything like that."

"Care fer another one?" Erika asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, ya haven't been fucked yet," Erika replied. "Don't ya want some dick? I think our gentleman caller is ready for another round." 

It was a true statement. I looked down at my shaft and I could see that I was once again fully erect. My cock was thick and throbbing ready to be ensconced in a warm, wet pussy.

"Tell me you want my stripper pussy," Angel purred, as she rolled over and spread her legs.

I wrapped my hand around my shaft and approached the table. 

"I do. I need it."

"Then fuck me."

"I'll go nice and slow Angel, until you get warmed up," I said.

"Don't you dare, bitch," Angel growled. A grin was plastered across her face. I looked deep into her eyes, they twinkled back at me. 

Her legs were akimbo; her hands were pulling her pussy lips wide. She licked her lips and growled, "I'm ready. Fuck me hard. I want to feel that cock of yours. That chopstick was not enough. It was a tease. I need some real meat. I need a bone. Fuck me!"

I rested the tip of my cock against Angel's engorged pussy lips. I am not sure that I had ever seen a wetter cunt; hours of teasing and torture will have that effect. I slid my hips slightly forward running my mushroom head against her distended clit. Angel could only gasp and murmur. 

Angel and I were ready, the tease was behind us. We wanted to fuck. I shoved my cock inside of Angel's slick cunt. She took over half my length on the first thrust. 

All air whooshed out of my lungs. I closed my eyes and let my present state float away.   Bright colored stars flashed in front of my eyes. I became immersed in a terrible, terrific heat. I sunk into something mushy, luxuriating, and utterly relaxing. I became sensation pure and true....

.... And then bitter cold.

"FUCK!" I yelled, startled out of my reverie. 

I looked down at the juncture of my cock and Angel's cunt. A scoop of chocolate ice cream had been plopped onto the place our crotches joined. 

The substance was melty (it must have been sitting out for awhile, I wasn't sure when it had been brought into the room), and beginning to run down our legs. Erika stood just to my right brandishing a used scooper. A grin was written large across her face. Erika must have noticed my hesitation, because she cackled, "What are ya waiting for? Fuck her! I reckon that's a proper dessert for this evening's events. Give her the banana split she's a looking for."

I looked at Erika and nodded. I leaned down and placed my hands flat on the table. I slammed my hips forward bending into Angel. She groaned deeply as my chocolate-covered cock filled her cunt. The walls of her pussy spread open to receive me. Our hips crushed together sending ice cream squirting out to the left and right sides. Cold, sticky cream coated our loins and dripped down our thighs.

Angel raised her head so that she could watch me fuck her. "Seeing it go in and out of me," she panted, "ohhhhhhhhh it looks so good. Yes it does, yes it does, ooohhhh yes.... You are so hard. Fuck that pussy... bitch, fuck it hard... fuck that pussy." 

I heard a "sploop" noise and felt a thick, sticky fluid hit my backside. I craned my neck to see what was happening. 

Erika was standing behind me squeezing a bottle of chocolate syrup. A steady brown stream shot from the bottle and squirted all over my back side. Erika giggled as she danced from one position to another. Angel was also a target. I watched as Erika hit her roommate square on the tits. Her aim was dead-on. From there she was no holds barred. Erika was a madwoman. Cackling triumphantly, she sprayed the bottle wildly. The blonde coated every inch of our uncovered flesh. In just a few seconds, both of Angel and I were covered from head to toe in chocolate syrup.

We didn't care. A sticky, syrupy mess wasn't going to stop our fucking. Rather, the ice cream and the fudge churned with our sex juices further fueling our lust. We were dirty, nasty, filthy beasts rutting and humping. We were pounding and driving, banging and slamming our way to a fucking orgasm. 

"Ya guys are so damn hot," I heard Erika say. "Ya'll are like pigs in slop that can't get enough of each other. I've never seen anythin' dirtier. I must... I have to... Do you mind?"

My mind was foggy with sex. I barely registered Erika's voice; I certainly didn't respond. Angel only groaned as I continued to pump in and out of her pussy. Her hands were clutching my ass cheeks pulling me deeper. Skin stuck to skin fused together by sweat and chocolate syrup. 

I looked down to see Erika licking at my crotch. She had ripped off her suit coat and blouse and now was down to a lacy red bra. 

Smears of chocolate syrup coated her face and shoulders. Her glasses were crooked on her nose (I think she banged them off kilter against my thigh). She was a sultry sex goddess, a Southern belle turned wicked and wanton.

"How's that taste, Erika?" I grunted.

"Ohhhh it's mighty fine. I need more. Gimme more...." 

Erika clamped her hands to my thighs and craned her neck for a second lick. Her tongue swirled a vicious circle as she moved one hand to cradle my sack. Rubbing gently she took one ball completely into her mouth. Then the blonde began to suck....

Divine. 

Holy.

Angel.

For the second time that night my body bucked and shook; orgasm overtook me. I rammed my hips into Angel's trembling body for a final time. Throwing my head back I howled into oblivion. A long, furious bray passed my lips as several shots of white-hot jizz exploded from my dick. One spurt after another of scalding cum deeply penetrated the liquid furnace of Angel's cunt.

Sharp nails dug into my ass. Angel, tumbling through an orgasm of her own, clung tightly to me. We had never been closer; we were two halves of a whole. Self was gone, forgotten. Mutual desire washed over our bodies, leaving Angel and I with nothing but rumbling tremors of ecstasy.  

Such a complete moment can never be permanent. The unity found in sex is, by its nature, a transient thing. Inevitably echoes are all that remain. They become mere memories of what passed from one being to another and back again. Those echoes lead us to repeat the process: to couple again, to seek that which we can never truly hold. 

And so it would be. For now Angel and I would grunt, moan, and claw our way back to normality. We would hold each other and store blankly at Erika rising up from between our legs. Eventually we would fumble our way to the shower and wash the grime of our tawdry affair from our bodies. Erika would wait in the bathroom, leaning against the door jam, and watch us shower. I would then dress, give both ladies a peck on the cheek, and drive home. I would crawl into bed and dream.

I would dream of doing it all over again.

I would dream of next Sunday.