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Angel Eyes

By: Crissaegrim



He enters a tavern, pup, bar, whatever the fuck it is, he just needs a drink. He's used to flying solo, but feels almost naked without his wing man, even if it's just to shoot the breeze. It's almost a tradition at this point. Business has sent them to opposite sides of the country simultaneously. Fine, they're be time for celebration later. Right now, he needed a drink before the long haul to his next destination.

It's dark, musty. What a bar should be. There's smoke in the air; thank God there's no smoking laws here like they have in California or New York. Pussies. Standing at the bar, he orders his man drink; 151 with coke; the haul is gonna be that long; and lights a cig of his own. Sitting on an empty stool waiting for his liq, his head randomly finds its way facing towards the corner as being guided by some unknown force. That's when he notices her.

Plump. Dark hair emphasizing her pale skin, making it paler, making her stand out. Decked out in grey joggers; very unusual. Sandled feet crossed 'innocently' at the ankle. Glass up to her lips, though not sipping; inhaling its aroma. Even wearing glasses. Average looking; yet something more. Her eyes burning through those lenses. Deep, dark. The eyes of someone who knows what they want. Staring at what they want. She smiles.

His looks for his breath but for a moment, the slight gasp snapping him out of this sudden trance. Those eyes. Such confidence; yet in someone so young. Probably a ten year difference. Maybe more. He's encountered many auras in his travels, but none so radiant, so focused. So bright red. Those eyes betray the common glasses they try to hind behind; contradicts the innocent face they rest upon.

She's done this before. He knows it. Judging by the inactivity and lack of interest by the rest of the men in the bar, with each of them; multiple times. And now her gaze has snared this out-of-towner. 'I'm game', he thinks to himself. And as if reading his mind, her smile brightens, radiant ivory showing as if baring fangs. Her aura intensifies lighting all around her in passionate flame.

Snapping out of it, he realizes his drink has been sitting idle behind him for an unknown duration. A while judging by the ice watered down to empty shells of their former selves. The moment has this weathered trooper suddenly flushed. 'Take it with me or guzzle it down?' Hesitation. 'Fuck it' he downs the glass in a series of massive gulps, confident that she wouldn't mind the slight sent of alcohol. They are in a bar.

Finishing his drink, he notices she's on the move. But not towards him, though her piercing gaze remained on him. Now standing, he fully realizes what he sees. Average nothing. Maybe at first. This... woman, is incredibly endowed. Breast and buttocks threaten to shred her joggers. They sway and swing advertising that nothing binds them underneath. Almost appearing like something one would wear to bed. Like someone straight from a slumber party. Her face appears 'that' young, but her eyes say so much different. She glides effortlessly caressing nearby table tops with her finger tips. Gaze still on him.

He knows her game, glancing around he fails to notice a back area, not even a freaking pool table. She's staking her claim. He follows. Face to face, he towers nearly a full foot over her forcing her to look straight up at him. Still making that girlish full grin; with sinful eyes and fangs of ivory. She slides right her arm underneath his left and ushers him into the restroom.

Countless posters of rock bands adorn the walls. Scribbles of all sorts; names and numbers; can be seen everywhere floor to ceiling. Probably her resume. Again, she makes the first move. Almost pouncing, she stretches both arms around his neck pulling herself up to meet his lips. Struggling with her flip flops, her toes leave the floor. He instinctively wraps his around her mass balancing her. Her tongue meeting his. Her fangs on his lips. Next on his neck. Then on his chest.

Those fangs find their way down to his cock. Appearing as if without motion or action, her hands find their way down his dark jeans and wrapping them around his already engorged, rock hard, warm dick. Already, in her mouth as if it was born there. Between slurps and sucks she breathes out a 'wow' struggling to swallow the whole log. First time her gag reflexes are truly tested. Her tongue riding along his pulsating veins. He's completely at her mercy. The echoing sounds of his cock being gulped is vulgar. He instantly goes into a face fucking frenzy. She struggles to maintain her balance on the balls of her feet, while reaching down to please herself over her jogger; a massive wet spot growing. She has too, this dick to just too good.

Clothing torn off. Very quickly, he tries to absorb what stands before him. Her ivory skin illuminated everything. Again, a strong contrast against his dark flesh. Wiccan symbols adorned her temple. Both hearts race. Fixing her disheveled hair from her face, she notices her glasses are still on. She motions to remove them until he stops her in mid action.

"No, leave them on" he says.

They go at it again. This time with far more energy. Naked forms bounce around until both back into a stall. Instinctively, she reaches up and grabs hold of the stall frames as he begins to lift her body. His lips meet her neck. One side then the other. The feeling is intoxicating. Higher she goes. His lips meet her breasts. Having his tongue dance along her nipples is seducing. Same as before. One breast then the other. Even higher she goes. She know where this is going.

In unison, both work to keep her off the ground; approaching cloud nine is more like it. She wrestles her legs up over his shoulders. Her bush; or total lack of it; is now staring him right in the face. Immediately he dive in. His roaming tongue finding her jewel and is mercilessly lapped. She lets out a sudden gasp.

"Oh God, his tongue is pierced" she thinks.

His tongue is incredibly wide and is now entering her. Her juices immediately rushes down his bare chest. Fingers find their way inside. She holds tighter onto the stall to compensate for him moving his hand.

Even more fingers enter her plump passage as her arms begin to tire; which turns her on even more. 

"Oh God" she screams. 

His tongue never left her jewel and now there's two fingers attacking her spot. No, not two, three. Four. Passion juice glides down his arm. Pouring now, the splats on the floor echo in the restroom. The sound drives him. Forcing himself inside, she's now being totally fisted. Her tits bounce with each thrust. Screaming now, she has lost all control. She is now at his mercy. She cannot bare to lose her grip or she falls fully onto his powerful arm. All five fingers attacking her spot, she gushes. He laps up every last drop.

Weakening, she looses her grip. He compensates and props her bare back up against the cold wall. He straddles the toilet as her muff completely rests on his face. He licks vitality back into her. Her drips splashes into the toilet. Completely breathless, she's ready.

Down he eases her; onto his rod. She couldn't believe... At first she thought she was being fisted again. Bouncing on his his cock, she spirals into orgasm. Her fifth. Reaching for the stalls again, she leans back to get a better look at his grunting face. Eyes are fixed. Giving each other messages of what's next. Her titties dance. Each thrust shaking screws loose. They are gonna tear the place down.

She remains holding on while he swings around her and now pounds her from behind. He grabs her hair. She screams again. Such a big cock. Throbbing. Pulsating. Almost tearing her in two. Her plump passage is ravaged. She continues to drip onto the floor. Approaching climax again, she looses her grip. He catches her; on his rod. Impaled. Both cum in an symphony of grunting chorus.

She slides off his member. Her toes finally meet tile. Catching her breath, she turns to look at him again. He adjusts her glasses on her angelic face. Both realise the audience collected at the restroom door. Multiple men with mouths hug agape. Without missing a beat...

"Sorry guys, this one is coming home with me tonight" she lets out, grabs him by his still engorged log, steps over their discarded clothes and wobble passed the men out the door.

Angel Eyes



Jill closed the door behind her carefully, not wanting to disturb the unexpected stillness of the house. "Miles?" she called out softly, her voice breaking the silence almost reluctantly. "Miles, where are you?"

"I'm in the bedroom, honey," she heard from down the hall. "I've got a surprise for you..."

Jill rolled her eyes. He'd called her home from work for that? Not that it hadn't been easy to wrap things up a little early, and not that it wasn't kind of romantic, but that was probably a surprise that could wait until tonight. Still, she was here, and Miles did have a way with the big, cheesy romantic gestures...she wandered down the hallway, her thoughts already drifting towards images of bedspreads strewn with rose petals and bottles of champagne on ice.

She didn't get rose petals, but there was a bottle of red wine on the bedside table. Next to it was a tall...something...covered in a silk tablecloth, with Miles standing nearby. He pointed at it, smiling enthusiastically. "Happy anniversary, honey!" he said.

"Our anniversary isn't until next week," she replied, raising an eyebrow. She wasn't really mad, but she knew he always liked her eyebrow trick.

"Yeah, I know," he said dismissively. "But I don't want to be one of those guys who doesn't remember our anniversary until a week after it happens. Besides, if I'd given you your anniversary surprise on your anniversary, it wouldn't have been a surprise, would it?"

"If you start talking about iocane powder, I'm leaving." Of course, she didn't actually make a move towards the door. Instead, she sat down on the bed and crossed her legs. "So, what now? Maybe a glass of wine for your beautiful wife?"

"Now you open your present!" Miles said, gesturing once again to the silk-covered object next to the table. "Come on, honey! I know you'll love it!"

Jill frowned. "But that's always been there...hasn't it?" It certainly looked familiar, but she couldn't think what it was underneath the silken fabric. It was like having an old friend's name right on the tip of one's tongue, only to find that you couldn't quite finish bringing it to mind.

"Just pull off the cloth and see," Miles said, his eyes shining with anticipation.

"Oh, alright," Jill sighed, getting back up and crossing over to the silk-covered object. She reached out, clutched a handful of fabric tightly, and pulled.

The first thing Jill noticed, once the cloth had come away to hang loosely from her fingers, was the eyes. They were her eyes, she knew that; but somehow, she'd never seen them quite this way before. Almost before she could register their presence, they began to soften; they looked distant, almost glassy as she gazed into them, like she was lost in thought and never wanted to be found. The reflection of her own stare seemed to magnify the gentle, drifting feeling that came upon her suddenly--realizing how peaceful her mirror image looked made her relax, and relaxing made the eyes in the mirror go even wider with blank calm. And that, in turn, deepened her own relaxation again... Jill tried to imagine an end to the ever-intensifying feedback loop, and found that she couldn't. That didn't bother her, though. In fact, she felt her mouth curve into a tiny smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Jill in the mirror smiling too.

It was the bedroom mirror. It was the same mirror she saw every day--how had she forgotten that? The realization didn't seem to matter much, and she'd already forgotten it by the time she heard Miles whisper, "That's right," into her ears. Nothing really seemed to matter except for those beautiful eyes. So calm, so tranquil, so docile. The girl in the mirror didn't have a care in the world. Jill envied her briefly, before remembering that she *was* her and sinking even deeper into that state of perfect calm.

"Good girl," Miles said softly. Jill shivered slightly, remembering how much she loved that warm, coaxing tone of voice that she always loved to forget as much as she loved to remember. Her gaze unfocused, giving the eyes in the mirror a soft glow as the tiny reflections on her eyeball merged into a sea of sparkling light.

"It's so...beautiful," Jill whispered, overcome by awe at the sight. The tablecloth slipped from her fingers completely as her attention was attracted even more by the eyes of the woman in the mirror. It whispered gently to the floor, but Jill was too caught up in the hypnotic stare of her other self to care. She felt helpless to break the stare, unable to blink until her mirror-image did.

"Mmhmm," Miles murmured, caressing the small of her back. The sound of his approval was just what Jill needed to sink even deeper, and the whole scene became beautifully luminous as she watched the pupils of the woman in the mirror slowly dilate.

She knew she was hypnotized, and she remembered now all the other times that Miles had gently drawn her down into this deep, relaxed state. It always seemed to nice to remember, and that made forgetting even easier because it meant that she would be able to enjoy remembering again...but she'd never realized how beautiful trance made her look. She never knew how peaceful she seemed, how angelic her eyes were when they melted into this soft, warm place and let Miles take control.

He put a tiny bit of pressure on her shoulder, guiding her down, and it wasn't until then that Jill realized just how much effort standing had taken. She sank gratefully to her knees, never breaking the gaze of the woman in the mirror who had caught her so easily, entranced her so effortlessly. Kneeling felt so much better than standing, so much better than sitting or lying down would, and she knew that somehow this was the perfect place for her. It all felt perfect, she realized. The whole moment, the timeless stillness of it, felt absolutely perfect. Jill felt like she could drift here forever with her mirror-self.

But it felt even better when Miles slowly unbuttoned her blouse so that he could run his hands along her skin. Jill let out a long, slow, dreamy sigh as she saw her eyes flutter with pleasure, pleasure that she felt echoing through her entranced body, but she couldn't let them close. That was Miles's gift to her this time, she knew. To see herself as he saw her. He slowly, seductively undid her bra and pulled it across her sensitive breasts, and she whimpered as her peripheral vision caught sight of him gathering her nipples between his fingers.

Every moment, every breath only deepened her arousal, until Jill saw herself shuddering with pleasure in the mirror. Even then, as she struggled to keep her eyes open against the relentless onslaught of bliss, Jill couldn't look away from her own eyes. She couldn't stop seeing the expression of helpless ecstasy on her face as Miles slid her skirt and panties down to her knees and snuck his fingers between her thighs to find the folds within. She couldn't stop watching herself give in to Miles's control, and it made it even hotter to watch it all happen. She felt like a voyeur and an exhibitionist at the same time.

His fingers rubbed at her clit, making her buck her hips slowly back and forth as her body responded reflexively to his touch. The instinctive motions of her pelvis were the only motion she could manage, though; the rest of her was too passive, too helpless, too controlled to do anything. It seemed too much like work to do anything but watch and feel. Miles was whispering that into her ear, but Jill didn't really register his words anymore in her conscious mind. All she could take in was the sight of those gorgeous eyes.

Then he guided her into a new position, and Jill found new depths of bliss as he slid into her from behind. She hadn't realized just how wet she was until she felt Miles's cock slip effortlessly into her pussy, but she knew that she couldn't help grinding her hips back against him as he thrust into her again and again and again. His hands circled around to tug at her nipples, drawing yet more pleasure out of her hypnotized body, but all Jill could do was watch her own eyes as her orgasm drew near. They were so blank, so glazed, so empty and mindless and it felt so good and she couldn't stop watching and she couldn't stop feeling and she couldn't stop moaning and she couldn't stop cumming, oh, oh she couldn't stop cumming over and over and over again and it all felt so fucking good!

Jill lost track of the number of orgasms she had; it all blended together into a haze of dreamy bliss. She'd been so primed, so ready for their sex that having Miles's cock inside her was almost unnecessary. Just seeing the way she looked, all drowsy and sleepy and sexy, it was more than enough. Even now, as the heady mix of afterglow and exhaustion and trance sent her spiraling down towards sleep, the sight of watching her eyes lose the battle against sleep was almost enough to get her back in the mood for another go.

Almost, she thought as she slumped into Miles's arms, letting them catch and hold her. But not...quite...

THE END