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Angel Lost in the Dark

By: hedoman



Short Introduction

For every person that's alive on this planet today there is a story. Each of these stories are like fingerprint in that they are uniquely ours and are created by the choices that we make in life. When we are born we are like blank slates but the moment that we pop out of the womb we begin experiencing changes that will inexorably shape our personality and make our story truly different from any other. 

By the time we have learned how to remember, the slate has been written on. We are who we are going to be, and we're going to be what we already are. Every trait that makes us unique can be traced back to a defining moment in time that has imprinted itself on us. That moment may have been a choice on how we reacted to certain stimulus, a completely random thought that was crossing our mind at the exact moment when something happened to alter it in an unexpected way, or maybe the first glimmer of an original thought that somehow gets confused in its translation and is forever linked in the mind as representing a reality that is perverted by our inexperience in processing such original thought. Whatever the cause, they become, for us, the reality, and the reality becomes the fiction. By the time we become men and women and have left childhood behind almost all of us find ourselves filled with unrealistic expectations, images of a reality that bear no relationship with 'real' reality, and a plethora of 'memories' that make no sense to anyone other than ourselves. 

Let us suppose that our mother has taken us for a walk in our stroller on a warm summer afternoon and while being wheeled through a park we see a baby girl lying on the grass with her mother. The baby girl is completely naked except for a pair of booties covering her feet.. In our mind there is no thought of sexual attraction, but in the years to come we find that we are curiously attracted to girls wearing tennis shoes or something similar. I'm not suggesting that we all have shoe fetishes, but I am suggesting that all of us (even the most normal) have some sexual baggage that we never agreed to carry with us for life. Somewhere along the line we experienced a "something" that caused a neuron in our brain to short circuit or to fire too rapidly, and - Voila! - we got hung up on something strange and, to us, enjoyable. Others may criticize us, laugh at us, or be disgusted by what they perceive as a perversion on our part, but if they honestly looked within themselves they would find "kinks" of their own that just as strange, just as funny, and just as disgusting as ours. It's what makes all our stories unique. 

Most or these kinks are benign. They can be as common as the aforementioned foot fetish or as complicated as the desire to be urinated upon while seated at the breakfast table reading an unpublished pornographic play by Shakespeare. Since the majority of these "kinks" are enjoyed only in the privacy of our heads they cause no problems. As we grow older we become aware that 'our' kinks are not the same as 'their' kinks and we begin to hide them from others. If we're lucky we find a few confidants – wives, hookers, good friends, priests, psychiatrists and psychologists, perhaps kindred spirits – that we feel free enough share these 'secrets' with, but even then we feel strange and different..

There are, however, many of us who are not satisfied with simply enjoying the kink from the privacy of our own head. There are those who need to act out the kink in real time, in the real world, and with real consequences for those who come in contact with our "inner' self. As I mentioned before, most kinks are benign, but keep in mind that acting out your kinks – perhaps fantasies would be a better word – contain risk. Keep in mind that there are some kinks that are more "out there" than others. Some people are unfortunate enough to be turned on by little kids or by torturing animals or by littering the landscape with newly created corpses whose demise is followed by a plethora of "catch-me-if-you-can" messages to the local police authorities. I know I'm taking a non-constitutional stand here, but for those unfortunates there is no hope. We might as well castrate them, execute them, or throw them in prison and then melt the key. For those with this type of link the person is too dangerous to allow him to act on his kinkiness. They can't be saved from their demons and studies have shown that they are incurable.

My particular kink is based primarily on exhibitionism and voyeurism. I am not a practicing exhibitionist nor do I walk down alleys in the midst of night peeking in windows for gawky thrills. I admit I go out of my way to put myself in situations where there is a pretty good chance that I will enjoy a flash of skin, a peek up a skirt or an unintentional (or better yet, intentional) show or unrestrained lust on the part of a exhibitionistic couple doing 'their thing." As outwardly conservative as I am have managed to "dress' up in biker clothes to observe the action at biker weekends, sit a bar for hours and hours at a time watching the girls during Spring Break at the Colorado river, and literally hundreds of days spent walking the beaches of Southern California, waiting and watching the women in their skimpiest bikinis. I've never had the opportunity to be on Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras but I did manage to go to the Burning Man event in Nevada and I consider New Orleans to be one of my favorite cities. Like most people I have absolutely no clue as to what caused my personal link. It didn't manifest itself until later in my life, although I'm sure my defining moment had been planted long before. It wasn't until I was in college that I discovered that side of me and it took me another twenty plus years to really come to terms with it and actively pursue it, so with that in mind I will begin this tale. Primarily it's about my relationship with Angel, but she doesn't become the main character until much later in my life. Before I introduce her you must first be introduced to Ellie, who I met in college, as well as Helen, my wife of over thirty years. Once you have heard everything you can only judge me as being benign or dangerous. I'm letting God judge my foolishness.

CHAPTER ONE

I was born at 10:38 on the morning of December 7, 1941 in a hospital in Waipahu, Hawaii. My mother and father had planned on being married in late January in a small church high in the hills over looking the Harbor but unfortunately fate intervened. He was killed a few hours before I arrived in the world. He was an innocent victim of the "day that would live in infamy." When I was six or seven my mother took me to his gravesite, but all I really remember of thar experience now was of standing on a boat watching gooey black bubbles coming up from out of the ocean floor and floating away with the tide. 

Being 1941, having a child out of wedlock was looked on as being immoral, so when the "whore" and the "bastard" left Hawaii and moved back to the mainland no one seemed to mind. We settled in a city called Santa Monica, California near where my mother grew up. A year later we moved to San Pedro where she found a job working in the shipyards. 

Obviously I don't remember any of those war years, but from the stories she has told me she worked the day shift and in the evenings she went to school and studied nursing. Between the work, the schooling and the studying she needed to do, there was very little time left for me, and I'm sure that being raised by babysitters, neighbors, and anyone else that she could find left its mark. She never married and once the war was over and she had graduated from her nursing courses we moved to a small bungalow a few miles north of the Los Angeles Coliseum, near where her parents had recently moved.. She got a job at General Hospital, which meant I was still being watched over by strangers during the day, but at least she was home most evenings. 

My mother was a "good" person, and by that I mean that she did her best, but since she was still young, attractive and single I grew up with a succession of father figures. She always introduced them to me as "Uncle Jack" or "Uncle Bill" or "Uncle Harry," They were never introduced as boyfriends or suitors or fiancés or dads. Nor were they introduced as to what they really were: Fuck buddies.

Some of my "Uncles" only stayed two or three days, but most stayed longer. When I was twelve my "Uncle" Joe" moved in and he stayed for five years. He and I learned the fragile art of communicating with each other and he taught me how to concentrate on my studies and helped me with my homework. I learned to love him as I might have learned to love a real father, but there was never a legal or spiritual contract contemplated as far as I knew between him and my mother. Perhaps her heart had been hardened by experiences in life but she didn't take his sudden death nearly as hard as I did. He was only forty, but age makes no difference when you're squashed between two semi's in a forty three vehicle pile up in the Tulle Fog on Highway 99 near the off ramp that takes you to Weed Patch. Within two weeks "Uncle Bernie" moved in and life went on.

Thanks in part to the discipline that "Uncle Joe" instilled in me I managed to graduate from High School with a 3.8 average and earned a scholarship from the University of Southern California. Although the scholarship paid for all my tuition and school related expenses such as books, I had to work part time to pay for rest. Luckily we still lived in the bungalow my mother had bought in 1946 which was only a few miles from the campus so I didn't need to worry about housing. Between the financial help my grandparents gave me and the part time job working at a Bowling Alley just off campus I was able to buy a my first car, a 1953 Packard. It wasn't much of a car but I was still young and inexperienced and this was my first real adventure in what I referred to as the "real world." The car gave me a certain freedom that I desperately needed.

I lost my virginity before school ever started. The Fraternities were having rush parties and in the two weeks prior to registration and I was trying to attend as many as I could. It seemed like every night I was coming home drunk out of my mind. I had never been a drinker before, but I have been a drinker ever since. Thankfully I never became an alcoholic, but over the course of my life I have certainly tipped back more than a few. My mother never caught on because she was asleep by the time I got back at two or three in the morning, and luckily I never had an accident in the car or even stopped for drinking under the unfluence. Because of my financial obligations I wasn't intending to join, but a party is a party, and if I was to experiment University life in its fullest parties seemed as good a place as any to begin. 

To those of you who don't know, rush parties pull out all the stops. They try to present their "house" in the best (or the worst) light depending on the type of members that they wanted to recruit. The "animal' houses hosted parties that would scare the shit out of the average parent whose son or daughter had just graduated High School and was away from home for the first time. Even the more moderate and conservative houses always made sure that their were plenty of kegs of beer and a inordinate amount of Sorority girls available for your visual pleasure, if not more. It was 1959, and while the sexual revolution had yet to flower the seeds were there and the bees were trying to make as much honey as they could. Some flowers, I soon realized, were known to be a little more willing to give up their pollen than others.

None were as willing as Ellie.



It was so many years ago that I don't remember the name of the Fraternity, but I'm sure it was one of the more animalistic ones. Beer flowed freely from an unending supply of kegs and the Sorority girls were, for the most part, fairly free with their pollen. From what I could observe they were keeping up with their male counterparts beer for beer and occasionally I saw couples walking up the main stairs, presumably to satisfy their need to produce honey privately in one of the bedrooms. 

Not really knowing anyone, I simply walked around from room to room with a large paper cup filled with beer and watched. Whenever something – or someone – got my attention I tried to blend in with the background and watch and listen unseen. Anonymity gives you the feeling that you're invisible, and invisibility in a crowd gives you the chance to hear conversations that were not meant for your ears and see sights that you weren't meant for your eyes. I was taking full advantage of my invisibility and was enjoying the moment and the time. 

I was well into my fourth beer when I stumbled upon a conversation between a co-ed and an overly muscular frat brother. They were seated side by side on the leather couch in the middle of the large living room. The first words I heard when I walked by was, "Yeah, I know, but I'm a little worried that I'll get a reputation. I did the same thing last year, remember?" Her voice, while not whispering, sounded conspiratorial so stopped to listen. 

"So?" he responded. "That was then and this is now. It's a whole new group of people. Come on, Carol, be a sport. You know how much we need pledges this year."

He leaned over and began whispering in her ear. I couldn't hear what he was saying but I took a position a few feet behind the sofa and pretended to study the large landscape painting that hung on the wall waiting for the audible part to begin again.

"You know you want to do it," I heard him say as his moved away from her ear. "I want you to and they want you to, so where's the downside? Everybody wins, right?"

"I guess," she replied, "but you've got to promise that you'll be satisfied with whatever happens. I may not do everything I did last year. Last year was spontaneous."

"OK, so be spontaneous again. We'll just start dancing and little by little work up to it. Pretend you're a little drunker than you feel and just go with the flow. When the time's right I'll dare you to get up on the table and do a dance for us. Don't say yes all at once, of course, but I'm sure that everybody would start encouraging you and you can take it from there. Just remember to let them convince you that it's OK. That way you won't feel so embarrassed."

"OK, Nick, I'll do it, but don't get mad if it turns our different than last year."

"Disappointed maybe, but not mad. Come on, baby, you know you want to do it."

"All right, I guess. As long as you promise not to be mad at me.



It didn't seem as if they had noticed me, so I followed them to the Recreation Room down into the large spacious basement and I watched them and the others dance for over an hour. Nothing seemed to be happening. The beer was flowing freely, and the more they drank the more animated and risqué they became, but so were all the other couples that were there. Skirts whirled during fast pieces, and occasionally a flash of panties was seen but it certainly didn't seemed planned. More sexual in my mind was the sophomoric groping that occurred during the slower songs. Hands roamed over butts and breasts as the couples hugged each other tightly and swayed to the music. It was erotic for an outsider like me to observe. I knew what sexual attraction was and the mechanics for intercourse, but the extent of my personal experience was limited to masturbation. Although I had copies of Playboy magazine and some others whose names I forgot, I had yet to see my first naked girl. It was due to a lack of opportunity rather than a lack of interest.

When I found my cup empty for the umpteenth time of the evening I carefully made way back to the keg, making sure that I didn't stumble into anyone. The line was long so I decided to get rid of the last cup before filling up. There was a line of boisterous and rowdy guys and girls in front of me and I silently bided my time until it was my turn to use what I had already learned was the only downstairs toilet. There was another on the other side of the room marked "Girls" but there was a large sign on the door that said "Out of Order" and the door was locked. Drunk or not I was still rather surprised to see girls using the same facilities as the men, in the 

"Nick told me that Carol was going to dance for us again" I heard a male voice in front of me say. 

"All RIGHT!" said another.

"She's just a whore at heart" said one of the girls.

"You're just jealous." Said another.

After finally reaching the head of the line and doing my business, I headed back to the keg to get another beer. The line was much shorter now and as I was pouring the beer in the cup I noticed every one on the floor move back as four muscular fraternity brothers were moving a table out into the middle of the room. I started to hear random voices chanting "Carol, Carol, Carol," and as the voices increased in volume more people joined in the chorus until it seemed as if everyone was involved. She was modestly shaking her head and waving off the their encouragement, but she was laughing and smiling in a way that suggested it was all for show. While she continued her protesting I found a good spot to observe the performance, if and when it was given. 

The encouragement continued for a few more minutes with yet more of her feeble attempts at getting out of it. Finally Nick grabbed her around the waist with both hands and literally lifted up onto the table. She shook her head and protested one last time. She began to step off the table but Nick stopped her and said loudly "Come on, everybody wants to watch you dance. Dance for us." 

"No they don't," she said. "I'd feel silly up here dancing all by my self." She said it, but she made no further attempt at stepping off the table. 

"You did it last year;" a voice came from somewhere in the crowd.

"That was different," she yelled back. "Last year I was drunk."

"That can be fixed," someone said, and suddenly cups of beer were being set on the table in front of her. She bent over and picked one up and drank the cup without coming up for air. A lot of it spilled out of her mouth and soaked her blouse. A lot of laughter ensued over her "accident" after some else yelled out "Take it off so we can dry it for you." She laughed, and unbuttoned the blouse. 

"Don't get your hopes up," she said as she took off the blouse and stood there wearing a standard white bra. Not particularly sexy by today's standards, but stores like "Victoria's Secret" were still in the future so the sight of her standing there with only a bra between her naked skin and my eyes was getting me aroused.

Someone turned on music and she tossed the blouse out into her audience with instruction to make sure that someone had it washed and dried for her. Then she picked up another beer and began to move around. "I don't know why you want to see me dance. I feel stupid being up here all alone,"

Stupid? Of course it was stupid, but she wasn't. She was smart enough to know that she wanted the attention, and she was wise enough to realize that those who enjoy attention can sometimes become jokes. She wanted to show off yet have the excuse that she had been talked into it. She wanted to avoid the responsibility of her actions and now she could blame not only the beer but the clamor of the crowd as well. Perhaps if she worked it right no one would ever know how much of it had been her decision and not theirs.

I was the only one that knew of the conversation I had overheard so I suppose I can't be an impartial judge, but I thought she was woefully inadequate as an actress. To me she was as transparent as could be, but in the end nobody really cared. All that mattered was that she had fun, we had fun, and the fraternity made their quota of new pledges. As long as no one got hurt there was no harm. It was all just a matter of a little innocent (or maybe not so innocent) fun laced with a little adolescent decadence.


Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 03



I don’t know how I did it, but after she had stopped crying I managed to talk her into not only going bar hopping with me that evening but wearing some new clothes that I would buy her in the morning. Dressing in a new and sexier style, I suggested, would do wonders for her self-esteem, and if she could learn to be a little less concerned about her body image, I could be a little more attentive to her needs when it came to making love. At first she was embarrassed at the thought of it, but as the conversation continued she slowly came around to the logic of my proposal, and in the end she agreed. She was my wife, and I certainly didn’t want her to act like a slut, but I did want to watch her showing off a little. I made up my mind that at some point in the evening I would suggest that she take off her panties. If I could just get her to loosen up enough to do that then the whole experiment would be a victory of major proportions. I didn’t expect her to let anyone know she was naked under her dress, but I was hoping that the very act would help soften her resistance to other sexual requests I might have. 

I knew her sizes and after driving to the mall I made my first stop at Victoria’s Secret where I purchased some very sexy under things. Next I concentrated my efforts on finding outerwear - a dress, a skirt, a blouse, a shirt - anything that struck my fancy. I tried to pick out items that were a little daring, to be sure, but not so daring that it would turn her off. Definitely no latex rubber dresses, no stiletto heels, no black fishnet stockings, no dress slit all the way up the side, and definitely no micro-micro-MICRO minis, either. I wanted her to be sexy, not sexual. I finally picked out a red skirt that came down almost to the knees, and a black belt to go along with it. For the top I had selected a white shirt made of a translucent material. I had bought black panties and bra, but since the shirt was white I went back to see Victoria again and I quickly bought another matching set in white in case she wasn’t comfortable with the black showing through. I was hoping that she wouldn’t wear the bra, but I knew deep down that it was only a pipe dream.

I had a raging hard on by the time I got home. Just fantasizing about what MIGHT happen was enough to excite me, and I was anxious to see how she looked in the new clothes. As I handed her the packages I said “I hope you like these. I can always return them if you don’t. Why don’t you go to the bedroom and try them on to see if they fit you, OK?”

She actually seemed happier now than she had been the night before. She was radiant, and for the first time in a long while I found my heart was pounding in anticipation of seeing her naked. “I’ll be out in a minute,” she said, her eyes twinkling as she took the package into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. Her entire demeanor had changed 180 degrees from what it had been for a long, long time. She was happy and I was happy for her. Why couldn’t it always be this way? 

I didn’t have to wait too long, and when the door opened she peeked out and giggled. “I thought you’d like to see me in the panties and bras first,” and then she swung back the door and stood in the doorway and modeled the black ones. The panties were bikini style and had fake knots on the side giving the impression they were tied. They rode low on her stomach and short wisps of pubic hair stuck out from the sides where the satiny material was loose against her legs. As she turned around I saw that the back of it was almost transparent and designed to ride low enough that the crack of her ass protruded above the material. The bra wasn’t exactly what I had envisioned it would be, but I suppose it was sexy enough. It held her breasts up and apart which made them appear larger than they really were, but aside from that it was nothing special. 

“If I wear these I suppose I should shave myself,” she said with a wicked grin on her face. “I’m sticking out all over the place.” I watched her ass as it wiggled out of the room and she modestly closed the door again. I was so horny that I could have ripped everything off and fucked her right there on the floor, but the evening awaited and I wanted to keep myself as potent as possible. 

When next she returned she was wearing the white panties and bra. I had thought that the black ones looked great on her, but the white ones were fantastic. I hadn’t realize just how sheer the front was, and when she turned around I saw that there was nothing there except a small string of fabric that extended from between her legs to almost the top of her panties before flaring out at the highest possible point to meet the elastic band above. Both cheeks were exposed in their entirety and had I not been able to see the top of string I would have sworn that her entire ass was bare. The front of it was completely transparent and I could visually see the tangled hair that covered her pussy. The white bra top was also transparent. I could see her perky little nipples as they pushed themselves against the flimsy fabric. Unlike the previous bra this one made no attempt at holding anything in place. All it did was cover them and it didn’t really do a good job at that. I loved it.

“So, how do I look in these,” she said as she pirouetted in front of me.

“Fantastic,” I answered. “I wish I had bought these for you a long time ago.”

She blushed suddenly, but composed herself quickly. “Now I’m going to put on the shirt and the skirt. Which underwear did you want me to wear with them, the white ones or the black ones?” 

“Why not model them both for me?

She went into the bedroom and when she returned she was still in her bra and panties and was carrying the rest of her clothes over her arm. “There’s no sense in going back and forth between here and the bedroom,” she said. “If it’s OK with you I’ll just do the rest of my changing right here. 

“How about no panties and no bra?” I said with a wide grin on my face. 

She smiled and said, “OK.” She pulled her panties down and then unhooked the bra and let it fall to the floor. There was nothing there that I hadn’t seen hundreds of times before, but because of her mood, her joy at being naked in front to me, her shamelessness in the wanton way she exhibiting herself to me now, I couldn’t help but be swept up in my passion. I reached out to bring her close, to kiss her lips, to feel her body pressed against mine, my hands free to roam wherever I wanted. 

“Oops, no touching now. You can watch, but you can’t touch.” 

She put the shirt on first and then the skirt. She had always put on the her clothes from the bottom to the top before, and the mere sight of her standing there buttoning her shirt while her bare cunt was staring me in face made me almost lose control. I wanted so much to just throw her down on the floor and poke it in her. She then turned around and bent over from the waist to pick up the dress that was on the floor, and as she did her buttocks parted and I saw her anus flash itself quickly in front of my eyes only to close a split second later. Dear God, please let her stay this free with her body for the rest of our lives. 

“How many buttons should I leave open? One? Two? Three?” She was looking at me in the mirror that hung on the wall, watching both herself and me as she as she played with the buttons on her shirt. “One’s not enough, but three seems a little too much. What do you think, Tom?” 

I laughed and said, “Try four.” Two would be a slight improvement from what her normal décolletage would be, but it would be far from daring. Four might be to bold for me to even consider, but three would have suited me just right. She unbuttoned the fourth one and then studied herself again in the mirror. “I think I’ll settle for just two, thank you very much,” and she hurriedly buttoned up the shirt again.

          ********

It was after seven PM when we left the third bar, and we had each consumed four mixed drinks apiece. The effects of the alcohol was muted somewhat by the free food that was served as part of Happy Hours, but we were both starting to feel little giddy. I couldn’t help but noticed that Helen was becoming much more relaxed and careless with how the clothes fit on her. The third button had come loose somewhere in the middle of the third drink and she either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Once when I returned from a trip to the Men’s room I noticed that the skirt was riding high on her legs and her knees were spread open a little. No one was in a position to see, of course, but her carelessness bode well for the rest of the evening. 

As we drove out of the parking lot in search of yet another watering hole, I made a mental note to drive as carefully as I could. Even with the food, I was feeling no pain. I certainly didn’t want to spoil the evening by getting a DUI.

Terry’s Tavern was only four blocks away, and while I certainly wasn’t planning anything, the dark lighting and its normal lack of patrons would make for a perfect spot to get a little frisky. I certainly didn’t want to do anything even remotely as daring as the couple that I had watched before, but I knew that we could do things there that we couldn’t get away with anywhere else. I was scheduling that for our last stop of the night, but night was still a good hour or so away and I wanted Helen to have a few more drinks and be more relaxed and giggly before taking her there. It was as if I was trying to walk a tightrope with drunken stupor on one side and uninhibited disregard of social etiquette on the other. There were lines that I wouldn’t cross, but my fantasies allowed me to cross more than I knew Helen was capable of, and having a fantasy denied was better than having no fantasy at all, wasn’t it? Besides, who knew? Somehow I had managed to turn last night’s argument into this evening’s adventure by pure luck, so who was to say that luck wouldn’t be on my side again? 

As we drove down the street and passed Terry’s Tavern I started searching for a nice place to settle in for the next few hours. I wanted to find one within walking distance since I planned on buying us at least another two or three rounds while we there biding our time. I had only been to Terry’s after 8:30 or so, and I wanted to wait until at least then to make our appearance. I was hoping that it would be as perfect as ever and I didn’t want to screw things up by arriving too early only to find it filled with people. 

We finally spotted a nice friendly neighborhood lounge two short blocks away and we went in. Unlike Terry’s, this place was brightly lit and filled with customers. We found a booth on the far side of the room, isolating ourselves from the crowd, and as the cocktail waitress came over to our booth and took our order I noticed that the three buttons of Helen’s shirt were still undone and I could see her bare skin all the way to below the bottom of the bra. I certainly didn’t want to say anything to her (I was still wasn’t sure it was accidental) so I did nothing. We both ordered a Margarita, our fourth for the evening, and when the waitress left I asked Helen “How are you holding up? I don’t want you to be completely sober, but I don’t want you to think I’m trying to get you drunk either,”

“Why not? Wasn’t that the plan? I haven’t been drunk for years and it feels good.” She just looked at me with those pixie eyes of hers and added, “I just hope you don’t take advantage of me when we get home.”

“Me? I would never think of taking advantage of you,” I said with an exaggerated leer, then I leaned across the table and whispered in her ear, “but I was hoping you’d take advantage of me.”

“I’m too shy and naïve for that.” 

“I’d like to think you pretend shyness. You haven’t been shy today.”

She took another sip of her Margarita and then said, “I’m just pretending not to be shy.” 

“Well, you’re doing a pretty good job of it.” My eyes purposely dropped down to her open blouse and when she saw where I was looking she said, “My God! How low long has that been unbuttoned?” 

“For about an hour. I first noticed it sometime during out third drink.” 

“You should have told me,” she said and she started to button it up.

“Don’t,” I said, “You look fantastic the way you are. Leave it unbuttoned.” 

“I can’t do that. People are going to notice and they’d think I was showing off. How many drinks have we had anyway? 

“Four,” I answered, “and this one makes fifth.. Were you?”

“Were I what? I mean, WAS I what. God, I’m already slurring my words.” 

“Were you trying to show off?” 

“No. You know me better than that.”

“Well, I knew the old you, but after our discussion last night and then the way you modeled those clothes this afternoon I thought maybe I was getting to know the new you. Admit it, you were getting all hot and bothered by showing yourself off to me that way.”

“Modeling the clothes was one thing, and sitting here with my bra showing is something else. You’re my husband and I don’t mind showing off for you in the privacy of our home, but out in public it’s different.” She took another drink of her Margarita. For all her protesting I made a mental note that the button was still unbuttoned and the bra was still visible and she was still drinking. I knew how I was feeling, and I drank more often than she did. I could only guess at the degree of her intoxication. 

“Well, as long as you’re pretending not to be shy, why don’t you pretend that you don’t know it’s unbuttoned? You weren’t concerned about it when you didn’t know and it certainly didn’t do you any harm. Just leave it the way it is. How many times have you just said to yourself ‘to hell with it, I’m having fun and I don’t give a shit what people think?’ Just let yourself go for a change and have some wicked fun” 

It was chancy for me to say what I did. In the first place she didn’t usually care for vulgar language. I don’t remember her ever saying ‘shit’ before, and I was afraid that my comment about wicked fun would make her think twice about what she was doing. 

“So seeing me naked this afternoon turned you on, huh?” She was leaning over the table in front of me giving me a closer look down her blouse. She was smiling and running thumb around the rim of her Margarita glass.

.“It definitely turned me on. I felt like making love to you right there on the floor.”

Again I felt I was pushing the envelope. We had done it on the floor before, as well as the backyard and a few memorable times in the open when we went on our yearly vacations, but she never really enjoyed it as much as when we did it in bed. Somehow the bed represented safety to her and any place else seemed dangerous, uncomfortable, or perverted.

“You’ve seen me naked before. Why did my modeling the clothes get you so excited?”

I paused for a moment to search for the perfect answer, and while I was thinking I was studying her. Her thumb was still tracing circles across the rim of her glass, and while her eyes seemed somewhat unfocused, they also seemed to shine with happiness.

When I finally spoke I said, “Have you ever seen a guy you thought was absolutely drop dead handsome, yet you didn’t find him sexy at all? Men feel the same way about women. Some are beautiful, but they aren’t sexy. Others can actually be ugly, but they have a certain something that makes them sexier than hell. You can call it charisma if you want, but I think it’s more than that. I think it’s a reflection of their confidence. Your sexy if you feel sexy, and other people pick up on it.”

“You think I’ve been acting sexy?”

“Sure. Don’t you feel sexy?”

“Yes,” she said as she traced another circle on the rim of her glass, “but I’d rather be beautiful than sexy.”

“You’re beautiful, all right. Being sexy just makes you more so. Come on, you know what I meant.”

She smiled and then said, “I’ve got to confess something. When you were watching me change clothes I…well…you know.” She blushed slightly and added, “I was getting a little excited.”

“Sexually excited? You mean you were getting hot?”

She looked in my eyes and said. “Does that really surprise you? You act as if I never get turned on. Yes, I got hot. If you want the real truth in made me horny.”

It was a shock for me to hear that coming from her. Had I been wrong about her all these years? Was there really a hot-blooded woman underneath the ice queen façade? 

It seemed I had stared at her for a very long time before I finally said, “You should have told me.”

“Why? Does it matter all that much whether I’m excited or not?”

“Of course it makes a difference. I want to know that you’re at least having fun.”

“OK, from now on I’ll tell you when I get that way. Will you tell me too?”

“Yes, I promise. In fact, I’m very horny right now.”

She smiled and said. “So am I.” She stopped circling the Margarita glass and then brought her thumb to her mouth and sucked off the salt. She drank the rest of her what was in the glass and then added “Well, while we’re trying to figure this out, how ‘bout another Margarita. If I’m going to be hanging out of my shirt all night I might as I might as well get drunk enough to enjoy it.”

          **********

All of a sudden I realized that while she might not fulfill all of my fantasies for the evening, she was at least going to satisfy some of them. She was willing to try, and that thought alone was making me hard again. When the waitress came back to the table I watched Helen’s eyes as I ordered another round. She was looking up at the waitress, trying to tell, I suppose, whether the waitress noticed her exposed bra. To Helen this was a rather daring exposure, but that was only to Helen. The waitress gave no indication that she had noticed anything amiss. After she left I looked in Helen’s eyes and said, “Feels kind of good to be a wicked, doesn’t it?” as I lowered my eyes down to her chest.

“It does, doesn’t it? Now that I’ve sat here for a while I’m getting comfortable with it. I mean, my back IS to the bar so no one can see the front of me except you, and I’m really doing this for you, aren’t I?” 

“Yes, for me. But I’d like to think you’re doing it for yourself too,”

“Yes, for me too. Tell me if anyone is coming, Ok?” After saying that she unbuttoned the fourth button and then pulled down her bra and freed her tits.

She leaned against the back of the booth and crossed her arms over her chest. At first I thought she was just covering up out of modesty, but then I noticed that she was pinching each nipple with her thumb and middle finger, pulling them from side to side and from top to top. “I’m not doing anything wrong, am I? It just makes me feel so good to play with them while you’re watching. You like me doing this? Tell me that I’m not doing anything wrong. You WILL tell me if anyone’s coming, won’t you?”

I could tell she was nervous, but she was coming out of her shell in a big way. Helen had never – and I mean NEVER – given any indication that she would ever do something like this. I stared at her bare tits and was unable to speak. Surely it was the alcohol that was making it possible. It went far beyond the most daring thing she had ever done before, and the most puzzling part was that I had not asked her to do it. She was doing it of her own free will. 

“No and yes and no,” I sighed, “No, you’re not doing anything wrong, and yes I like you doing this, and no I can’t tell you if anyone’s coming because I’m looking at your tits and not the bar.” 

“Are my nipples as hard as they feel?”

“Oh yes,” I whispered back, “They’re rock hard and pointed, and…and…oh so wonderful to look at.”

She rolled her tongue over her lips and in a quiet voice said, “You can touch them if you want. I’d like to feel your hands squeezing them and playing with them. Here, I’ll help you.” Suddenly, without warning, she stood up and leaned forward over the table to make then more accessible to my hands. Her blouse was now pulled completely out of the skirt and it was unbuttoned all the way down. As she leaned forward it opened up and I had a sudden fear that those in the bar could see her. I could feel my blood pressure rising.




Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 03



I reached out and put my hands on her tits, my eyes traveling over the customers in the bar only a few feet in back of her.. I was excited, scared, filled with wonderment, awe, embarrassment, and sheer heart pounding lust. 

I played with them for a minute, maybe more, until Helen sat back in her seat. She continued her manual stimulation but I was no longer looking at them. Instead my eyes were concentrating on the other customers. I wanted to make sure that no one was coming too close. Helen’s eyes were closed and her head was moving back and forth against the imitation leather backing of the couch. She was obviously excited and trusting me to alert her if someone was to approach. 

I needed another drink. I hadn’t had enough yet. For all my planning, I now found myself getting paranoid. I needed more courage. It was only 8 o’clock, and I didn’t want it to end too early. I still wanted to go to Terry’s Tavern. There, in the privacy of the dim lighting and the anonymity it provided I could relax a little more, I thought, and truly enjoy what might turn out to be the most erotic night in our marriage. Here, in the bright light, I felt it was a little too much.

“Whew,” she said when she finally moved her hands away from her body and opened her eyes. “Is anyone coming?” she asked.

“No,” I managed to squeak. She turned her head and looked toward the bar as if not trusting me.

“Good.” With that she took off the shirt completely and tossed it on the table. She slipped the straps of her bra off her shoulders and unhooked the clasp in the back. Bare breasted she opened her purse and put the bra inside. Only after putting the bra in her purse did she pick up the blouse and put it on. “That’s feels better,” she said with a big smile on her face. “I need to pee. Would you order us just one more Margarita before we go?”

She buttoned all but the top three buttons of her blouse and then took her purse and walked unashamedly to the far end of the bar and entered the ladies room. While she was gone I motioned for the waitress and ordered us each another Margarita.

It wasn’t long before she returned to the booth. Four buttons were now undone and only the bottom button was holding her shirt in place. I could see the fleshy sides of both breasts in their entirety all the way down past the crease where the their flesh folded down onto her body. They swung from side to side as she walked and threatened to pop out at any moment. The pinkish colors of her nipples were clearly visible as they pressed themselves against the white material. At this moment in time I considered her the sexiest woman, bar none, that I had ever seen. Strange, I thought, how we had somehow missed all this excitement in the early years and had wasted all that time in getting to know the real us.

“I have a present for you,” she said, and then she opened up her purse and handed me her panties. She smiled and said, “Put them in your pocket and don’t lose them. They really look great, but they keep getting wedged in my asshole and it’s not very comfortable.” I looked at the panties dumbfounded and then looked back into her eyes. They seemed alive with sexuality, hunger, and promise. 

As loose and as carefree as she was being with her body, it still sounded strange to hear her use the word ‘asshole’. ‘Ass’ would have sufficed, but by adding the second syllable she was purposely making it sound dirty and raw. She often chastised me for using what she called ‘gutter’ language, and to hear it coming from her was both shocking and perversely erotic. Was she trying to impress me with her newly discovered earthiness, or was she subtly implying that she wanted me to use the same crude language with her? Or was it perhaps only a response to my having earlier used the words ‘shit’ and ‘tits’? When used at the right time and in the right circumstances such words can have a meaning far beyond the scope of their definition. They can become a powerful aphrodisiac capable of transferring erotic knowledge from one hungry soul to another. They can convey a willingness to accept the profane and give permission to others to indulge in the same. I was hoping that this was her motive, whether conscious or not. Perhaps by speaking the words she could feel their power, understand the secrets they held and enjoy the liberation of speaking completely uncensored, free at last to bare her thoughts as well as her body and to revel in both the glory and the depravity of her mind, her spirit and her soul. 

She displayed no embarrassment at all when the cocktail waitress brought our drinks. The first four buttons were still open and she was bare from her neck to her navel, and her blouse seemed to be covering nothing but the nipples themselves. The waitress didn’t say anything or make any indication that she had noticed (she was much too professional for that) but I was watching her as she leaned over to set the glasses on the table in front of us, and I noticed her eyes widen and her mouth open slightly before she caught herself and regained her composure.

After the waitress left there was a few moments of pregnant silence. I suddenly was at a loss as to how to open up the conversation again. I waited for Helen to take the initiative but I waited in vain. We talked, of course, but not about the subject that I so desperately wanted to explore. She made no attempt at reviving the conversation and I didn’t know how. Nothing remotely associated with the surreal nature of her calmly sitting in front of me so…so…revealingly was being mentioned and I was afraid that all might be lost if we didn’t get back into the same give and take we had going on before. Finally, as we finished our drinks, I suggested to Helen that we go to one more bar. “It’s darker and more intimate,” I said, “and we can relax and be ourselves.” 

“I don’t know,” she said shaking her head in an exaggerated manner. “It’s getting late and I’m all fucked up. I don’t even know if I can stand.”

“I’ll help you,” I said, and I stood and moved to her side of the booth. I reached my hand out to help steady her if she needed my support and as she turned to get out of the booth her hand slipped off the table and she fell sideways across the seat. As she did both breasts dislodged themselves from their hiding place and the dress rose up on her legs and I could see everything between her legs. 

“Oops,” she giggled, “I forgot I wasn’t wearing panties. I told you I was all fucked up.”

I quickly pulled the skirt back over her legs and then helped her hide her tits again.. As she turned to face the bar I noticed her left nipple had fallen out of the shirt again, and while I covered it as quickly as I could I saw that at least one man had observed her little accident. I was somewhat uncomfortable with the whole situation, but there was nothing I could do about it. 

We made it to the front door with no problem, but as we walked across the room I could see all the eyes pointed in our direction. It might have been my imagination, but as we walked by each booth and barstool I could almost feel them holding their breath, waiting, I suppose, for the inevitable to happen. Unless you have ever been in a similar situation you can’t imagine the mixture of fear and pride that was coursing through my body as we finally reached the door and walked out into the deepening twilight. 

The breeze hit us as we walked out of the bar and I suddenly realized that I was perhaps as drunk as she was. I could see the sign for Terry’s Tavern from the front door, but I couldn’t keep it in focus. I suggested to Helen that we walk the two blocks instead of driving. It wouldn’t take any longer, I told her, and it would be too much of a hassle to get in the car, drive that small a distance, and then have to park again. What I didn’t tell her was that I was afraid I couldn’t drive. She was beyond caring at this point in time and as she stumbled forward she simply said, “OK, let’s walk.” 

I took her hand and tried my best to steer her down the sidewalk as we stumbled our way forward. Cars were driving by us and Helen was having a good time with them. For every car that passed and honked at her shameless display she would pull open her blouse and flash her tits, then turn to me and giggle, “I don’t think I should’a done that, do you?” I would say, “I certainly agree you shouldn’t” but when the next car went by she would do the same damn thing. She thought it was fun, and so did I, but drunk as I was I was still sober enough to know it was dangerous fun. There were a lot of crazies out there and I didn’t want any of them to stop and give us any trouble, and I certainly didn’t want the police to pull over and possibly arrest her for indecent exposure or for being drunk in public. Once we were in Terry’s I would be in familiar surroundings and I could relax and enjoy her sexuality, but right now the fun of the moment was being hampered by fear.

When we made it to Terry’s I was about to open the familiar front door when Helen paused to button up her shirt. Secretly I was glad but when I saw that she had buttoned all but the top two my spirits flagged again. I looked her in the eye and then unbuttoned the third button. She sighed quietly, as if resigning herself, and she left it unbuttoned while I opened the door and we entered.

When I saw the safe, dark lighting I began to relax and feel more comfortable. It was almost as if I was home. I felt like nothing could happen to us here. Nothing had happened to the couple I had watched and it wouldn’t happen to us. Buck certainly wouldn’t say or do anything regardless of how erotic we became, and for the few single men I saw gathered around the bar and the pool table it would probably be a fantasy come true. 

The pool table was to right side if the bar, and beyond it were the restrooms and four dimly lit tables and two booths. There were also a few candle lit tables near the doorway where we were standing. I was still feeling drunk and since Helen had taken the chance of flashing her tits at the cars going by I took a chance as well, and I draped my arm over her shoulder and placed my hand under her shirt .

“Where would you like to sit?” I asked.

She quickly covered my hand with hers, hiding the fact that she was exposed. “Anywhere you want,” she said, “but I can’t walk in like this.”

“Why not? You were flashing all the cars. What’s the difference?”

She looked at me and I saw her expression change. At first I had thought if was a look of confusion, but later I began to believe she had experienced a sudden insight. She pulled my hand away and pulled her shirt together “I’m drunk,” she said, “but I’m not so drunk that I’m going to let all these men see me naked. Let’s go sit in one of the booths,” and before I could say anything she had wobbled away and I was forced to follow.

As we walked past the two men who were playing pool I was suddenly glad that she had moved my hand. She was still unbuttoned and both of the men went out of their way to make sure she knew they were staring. Polite gentlemen would be more discreet, I thought, like I had been when I had first seen the couple in the bar the first time. Had she not removed my hand how would they had acted? 

Once we were seated, she turned to me and said, “What is it exactly that you had in mind by coming here?”

Suddenly I was at a loss for words again. What was I supposed to say?

When I didn’t answer immediately she looked at me with those penetrating eyes of hers and she said, “If I hadn’t taking your hand away, would you have left it there the whole time we walked across room?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

She was quite when she said “But you wanted to?” 

“I suppose.”

She was quiet again. She looked over at the men playing pool and stared at them for a long while, and when she turned back to me she said, “Would you mind getting us another Margarita? I want to get just a teensy bit drunker.” She held up her thumb and her digit finger showing me in a measurement just how teensy much drunker she wanted to get. Without even thinking of how wide apart they had been I walked to the bar and to order us both another Margarita.

“Hi, Tom,” Buck said as I ordered the two drinks, “Who’s you’re gal friend?”

“That’s not a ‘gal’ friend,” I said, “that’s my wife.”

“Congratulations,” he said as his eyes turned to look at the booth where she was still seated, “you have great taste in women.” He was talking to me, but his eyes were on Helen. 

When I returned with the drinks I handed her one and she set it on the table. I slid in beside her and set my drink next to hers. She didn’t take a drink nor did I. Suddenly I felt a strange silence fall between us, like a wall had been put up.. We just sat there as if we had nothing important to say. Finally to break the uneasiness of the silence I excused myself and went to the restroom. 

While I was sitting there I tried desperately to remember what the last words we had said to each other. If there was a rift between us I wanted to know what had caused it. For the life of me I couldn’t figure it out. I remembered going to the bar and getting the drinks and I remembered going back to the booth only to get the silent treatment. The only other thing I could remember was her holding her fingers in front of my face and telling me she wanted an itsy-bitsy one. Before that it was just a cloudy haze.

I smoked an entire cigarette while I sat on the can so it must have been at least five minutes or more until I returned to booth. As I came out of the bathroom and turned the corner I saw that the two men who had been playing pool were now standing by the booth talking to Helen. As I approached she waved her hand at me and then she motioned for me to slide in beside her. As I did she threw her arms around me and gave me a big kiss on the cheek. Her tits didn’t slip out, but they came dangerously close.

“This is Fric and this is Frac” she said with a emphasis on the names as she pointed them out to me. Her voice was slurred more than before but it was obvious to me that she was pretending to be drunker than she actually was since the new Margarita was still full. She pulled away from me and sat facing them again, looking down at her open blouse and modestly pulling it together. She didn’t, however, make any attempt at buttoning it up so that when she was finished she was almost as exposed as before. 

“I’m Jerry,” said Fric, “and this is Joe. Your wife has just been telling us how you’re both pretty good at pool. We don’t play for money, but if you’d like to join us it would be our pleasure.”

Of course you would, I thought. What red-blooded man in their right mind wouldn’t? If you find a hot babe whose obviously drunk, whose tits are almost falling out of her shirt, and who’s walking around with no panties on while her husband is sitting on the crapper, it would be almost criminal not to least attempt to get her involved in a game where she would need to bend over the table from time to time in order to shoot. Even though I was too old and too shy to have ever been tempted to do it, I could easily understand their interests.

“Maybe later,” I said, ‘but right now isn’t the best of times. We’re both pretty plastered, as if you haven’t noticed, and I doubt if we’d be able to concentrate on what we were doing.”

“Any time,” he said. “If you sober up enough just let us know. Nice to meet you both.” They went back to their game of pool and left Helen and I alone again.

“That was nice of them to ask us to pool.” she said. “How come you told them no?”

“Because you’re too drunk to play,” I said. “Besides, you’d have to button up your blouse and put on your panties to play and I like you the way you are.”

“Why would I have to do that?”

“Why? Because they’d end up seeing everything you’ve got. Every time you shot you’d fall out of your blouse and without any panties you couldn’t very well lean over the table much.”

She giggled and said, “I thought that was the object of the evening. I thought you wanted me to show myself off,”

“What gave you that idea?’

“You did. Last night when we talked you said that you wanted me to loosen up and be more daring, and then earlier today, when I was trying on the clothes, you suggested I wear the blouse with four buttons undone. Well, if you’ll look I’ve got all of them unbuttoned. Are you telling me now that you DON’T want to see me show off?”

“I didn’t say that either.”

She looked at me for a long time and then said, “I thought that maybe a little peek-a-boo here and there would be enough to keep you happy but I guess I was wrong. Do you want me to be more daring or less daring? Tell me what you want.”



Suddenly I felt anger at her again. Yes, she had kept me happy, but now I was afraid of her taking it away again. It wasn’t as if I had actually asked her to do. Everything she had done had been of her own choosing. Had the one and only time that I had crossed the line - when I had put my hand inside her shirt - now branded me as some kind of monster? What right did she have to be mad at ME? 

“You’re not being fair. I haven’t asked you to do anything that you weren’t prepared to do. I never told you to unbutton your shirt or to show me your tits in the bar or take your top off or anything else you did. You did that all on your own. I thought you wanted to be that way. I almost stopped you when you were flashing those cars because I was getting nervous about it, but you seemed to be having a great time so I let you keep on flashing.” 

“You didn’t need to tell me to do it. I did it because I wanted to make you happy.”

“Well, thank you very much. Your very proud of the fact that you did something without being asked, and I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy it because I did, but the real bottom line is that I never got the opportunity to ask for anything, did I? The one and only time that I took the initiative and asked for anything you said no.”

“When did you ask me for anything? When did I say no?” 

“I guess you’re right, I never really asked you. Or to be more correct, I didn’t ask you in words. But when we walked into the bar and I put my hand inside your shirt you removed it. Isn’t that the same thing as my asking and you’re saying ‘no’? Right now I feel like somebody who has absolutely no power at all. It’s like I’m at the mercy of what YOU want to GIVE me. I don’t have the permission to act on my own or to suggest something I’d like to see or have you do for fear that you’ll get pissed off at me.”

“So tell me. I still haven’t yet heard you say what you want. I won’t necessarily do what you want me to do, but I certainly won’t be mad. What DO you want?” 

I wanted to tell her, I really did, but old habits are hard to break. Should I confess to her my fantasy? Should I tell her about the couple I had seen? Should I tell her that deep down I wanted people to watch us as we put on a live sex show for them?

“I’m getting us another Margarita. I’ll tell you when I get back.” Without waiting for her to reply I went to the bar and bought the drinks. When I came back I saw her watching the pool players again. She took the drink before I had a chance to give it to her and immediately drank half of it. 



“I just want you to listen for a minute while I talk,” she said. “I don’t want you to say any thing until I’m finished.” She paused for a moment while she put together in her mind what she wanted to say. She took another drink of her Margarita and then, despite all the alcohol she had consumed, continued in a careful and thoughtful manner, “Just tell me what you want and don’t be afraid that I’ll get mad. I looked through those magazines of yours before I confronted you last night, so I’ve got a pretty good idea of how your mind works. As long as you promise me that you won’t ask me to fuck anybody but you, I’ll do whatever you want. I promised myself that tonight I would be the kind of wife you wanted, that you could have that at least once in your life, and that’s what I intend to do. Remember when I took my blouse off at the other bar and you asked me if it felt good being wicked for once? It did, and now I want to experience being nasty for once. What the FUCK, we only live once. The absolute worst thing that can happen is that we get arrested for being lewd and lascivious, right.” Her eyes were glazing over again and her emphasis on the word ‘fuck’ caught me off guard. I don’t know why, but I was beginning to feel paranoid again. 




Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 03



We stared at each other nervously for a few minutes before she broke the ice and said. ““Well, are you going to tell me what you want or do you want me to ad lib? Do you want to be the director of this imaginary movie or do you want to be in the audience?” 

I hesitated for a moment and then, in a meek voice, I said, “Pretend you’re drunker than you are and then go to the juke box and put on some music. Do a dance for me.”

“Give me some quarters,” she said.

          **********

We picked up our drinks and went to the bar. I quickly selected the same two stools that my fantasy couple had used hoping that they would be lucky for me. I don’t believe in superstitions, but I wasn’t taking any chances either, and as I settled onto the stool I had the feeling that it was right. It seemed as if I had waited all my life for this moment, and I pledged to myself that no matter how paranoid I got I was going to go through with it. Like she had said ‘what the FUCK, we only live once’ and I thought to myself it’s not the one who dies with the most toys that wins, it’s the one with the most memories. Besides, the worst thing than could happen was that we could to get arrested.

The quarters were on the bar, and she was facing me. Her feet were on the top rung of the barstool, and her knees were spread slightly apart. She looked quickly at Buck who was filling up a pitcher for a gentleman at the opposite side of the horseshoe bar and then darted her eyes quickly around the rest of the room. Satisfied for the moment that no one was watching, she took my hand and placed it on her bare pussy. She smiled and without lowering her voice at all she said. “I told you I needed to shave some of it off. Aren’t you glad I did?” I could feel the wetness between her open thighs and the smooth bareness in the area she had had shaved off. She scooped the quarters into her hand and as she slid off the barstool her skirt caught momentarily and I saw her bare ass.

She stood in front of the jukebox for a long time. I didn’t know what she was planning, but whatever it was I knew that I would have to live with it. Whatever would happen would happened, I thought, and if she was suddenly getting cold feet then I would graciously accept her decision and we would leave the bar and go home. She had been more than fair this evening and I made up my mind that I would make no further requests from her. She pretty well knew what I wanted, and if she were unwilling to go further I would understand. I had already experienced more in this one evening than I had ever received before, and I was already eternally grateful to her. I hungered for more, but I was satisfied with what I had already received.

Apparently she had reached a decision. She placed three quarters in the jukebox, and made her selections. As the first song began I watched as she began to move her hips in time to the music. She was standing in exactly the same position as she had stood previous to making her choices, but her hands were resting on the front panel of the jukebox and she was leaning forward. Her hair was hanging in front of her and as her hips began gyrating seductively to the sound of the music she backed away from the jukebox and began to snap her fingers in time to the slow beat of the music. My cock was hard and I could feel the pressure as it pushed against my pants. She wasn’t doing anything overtly sexual, yet dressed as she was it was the sexiest thing I had ever seen her do. 

She never turned around during the entire duration of the song. All she did was face the jukebox and wiggle her hips, snap her fingers and occasionally turn her head from side to side, which made her long hair seem to move in the same manner her hips were. When the music ended she turned around and came back to the bar and took a deep of swallow of her Margarita. Then she reached up and kissed me deep, her tongue pushing my lips apart.

My hand went to her throat and then slowly worked its way down the open channel toward the bottom button, and when I reached it I looked into her eyes and smiled. I think that was all the encouragement she needed. She helped me unbuttoned it and then pulled the shirt out of her skirt and let it hang open in front of her.

The second song had started and with a giggle she turned and went back top to juke box. It had a faster beat than the one before and now she was more animated. She was bouncing and twisting with the music and with every bounce and twist the shirt would open up exposing her beautiful globes. At first she feigned embarrassment but when she realized that she was getting away with, that the faint light had hidden her actions enough so that no one had seen as yet, she became emboldened, and by the time the song ended she was no longer bothering to cover up.

She came back to the bar to finish off her Margarita, ands before I could think of anything to say she had returned to the jukebox and was awaiting the third and finally song. As she started dancing I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye and I suddenly noticed the two pool players, Jerry and Joe, approaching the nearest table. She must have noticed their presence as well, or perhaps heard the scraping of the chairs against the floor as they moved then them out to, but all she did was smile at me and continued dancing. 

This song was a slower one, but she wasn’t letting that stop her. Her breasts were baring themselves as often as before, only now she was back into the bump and grind she had displayed during the first song. I noticed that she was turning to face Jerry and Joe from time to time and I could see their eyes traveling up and down her body as she brazenly let them watch her perform the dance she was giving me.

When the song ended she hurried back to the barstool and sat down beside me. Jerry and Joe began clapping, and she suddenly seemed embarrassed. “Oh God, what they must be thinking about me? Do you think I should go over an apologize for myself?”

“No, not really,” I told her, “But if you do I think you’d better cover your tits. They’re still outside your blouse.” 

“Oh, shit. I must be drunker than I thought.” She pushed them back in and when they were safely hidden she looked up and saw that Buck was looking at her from the middle of the bar. He smiled at her and she had no other option than to smile back.

“It’s after eleven,” I said. “Let’s have one more drink and then we she should start sobering up,” 

“Another drink? My God, where do you put it all? I could hardly stand up while I was dancing. I warn you, another drink and I might just rape you here in the bar.”

“Promises, promises,” I said.

“Don’t laugh. With all drinking I’ve been doing I’m looser than I think I ever been before, and after with all the flashing I’ve been doing I’m hornier than hell. Who knows? I may rape you even without the drink.”

She swung around on the barstool and faced me again. Her skirt was pulled up high on her legs again and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was by accident or design. In either case, it was extremely sexy. I was just hoping that after the evening was over, once she had sobered up and the reality of a new day was upon her, her newly discovered sexuality would remain. 

I motioned Buck over and I ordered us another round of Margaritas. He smiled, then turned to Helen and said, “You are an extremely beautiful woman,” he said, “and I’m glad you came into my bar tonight. Your dance was quite erotic. It made me feel young again”

She acted embarrassed again, but she took his compliment in the manner that it was given. “Thank you for saying that. I was afraid that you might find it offensive. I’ve never done anything like that before and I was kind of worried.” 

He laughed. “Don’t worry about me. Your dancing was one of the highlights of my life. I was just sorry you stopped.” He was staring at her hardly concealed breasts and without thinking I pulled back both sides of her blouse and let him get a closer look at her. She squealed and quickly pulled her shirt together again, but she was laughing the whole time and generally made it known that she hadn’t minded all that much.

“Damn,” Buck said, “why did you go and hide them again? A woman as good-looking as you should pointing them puppies every chance she gets.”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, “and take the risk of getting arrested? Thanks, but no thanks.”



Buck laughed again and said, “You don’t have to worry none. Look around. There ain’t nobody here but us and three other customers. You can take it from me that THEY certainly don’t mind.” 

“Well, it is warm in here,” she said as she swiveled around to face me. “I don’t care if you don’t,” she said. When I didn’t immediately respond she added, “It is getting rather hot in here.”

I answered her by saying, “Do what you want to do.” Why I opted out of the decision-making process remains a mystery to me, but deep down I didn’t think she would do it. 


“Well, in that case, I will.” With no hesitation at all she took off her shirt and handed it to Buck, who took the shirt and put it under the bar. 

“I’ll get you that drink now,” Buck said as he wiped his brow. He took another opportunity to stare at her bare bosom and then began mixing our drinks. He was shaking his head and whistling as he did.

“Let’s play some pool after he gets the drinks for us,” Helen said. “Doesn’t look like Fric and Frac are playing anymore.”

“That’s cause they’re watching you,” I said. “I’ll bet you five dollars that if we get up to play pool they’ll want to play too.”

“And is that so bad?” she asked with a lascivious look on her face. “I’ve never played pool with strangers while topless” she giggled.

“There’s a first time for everything,” I smiled at her and then ran my hand up her skirt and felt her bare pussy. She froze for a second, and I thought maybe she would push it away, but instead she opened her legs further apart and then put her hand on mine and pulled it further up. It suddenly occurred to me that Jerry and Joe might be seeing the same kind of show that I had seen when I had seen my fantasy couple. 

I thought that when Buck came back with the Margaritas she would push my hand away, but she didn’t. Unless he was to actually lean forward and peer over the bar there was no way he could see, and as far as Jerry and Joe were concerned I really didn’t care. They were already staring at her bare boobs and so far they had been complete gentlemen. Buck set the Margarita’s in front of us I parted her folds with my finger and entered her. She looked surprised and that was all. She let me keep my finger buried to the knuckle inside her pussy as she calmly lifted her Margarita to her mouth and sipped it. 

I started to reach for my wallet when Buck said, “It’s OK. They’re on the house, and when you’re ready for another just let me know.”

“Are you trying to get me falling down drunk?’ Helen asked with a huge grin on her face.”

“Damn right,” he said. “Go ahead, drink up, drink up, drink up” Helen started giggling, and then the giggling turned into hysterical laughter. I knew it was the alcohol, but I hadn’t heard Helen laugh like that for years. She was having fun, and that was what it was all about, wasn’t it? It was just good-natured sophomoric fun, a time to get loose and do the things that we didn’t ordinarily do, things that we WOULN’T do under normal circumstances, things that we WANTED to do but had never found the courage. Now we found ourselves in the situation where our actions were no longer be ridiculed or chastised or punished; instead they were being rewarded, and the most wonderful part of it was that it was no longer a matter of Helen doing it for me.. Now she was doing it for herself as well. She was enjoying the game as much as I was. 

When she finished laughing she grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand from under her skirt. “Let’s go play some pool,” she said.

She took a drink of her Margarita and then she turned to me. “I think I need a little help getting off this stool. I don’t even know if I can stand up anymore.” I put my hands on her waist and as she slid off the stool she almost fell into my arms.. 

“Very unladylike,” I said.

“I tripped. Being drunk had nothing to do with it,” she explained as she quickly wrapped an arm around my waist for support. “Are we asking Fric and Frac to play?”

“You mean Jerry and Joe. Sounds fun. Just promise you’ll act ladylike around them.”

“I promise. Cross my tits and hope to die.”

With my arm around her waist we walked across room towards the pool table. Both men were staring at her semi-nude body. My paranoia had disappeared completely. It made me feel good to have them looking at her like that. 

“You sober now?” asked Jerry.

“Hell no” Helen answered. “If I was sober I’d have my shirt on. So, are we gonna play pool or not?”

“Sure,” Jerry answered, “but I got to warn you that we might not play as well as we did earlier as before. We’ve never played with a topless woman before and it might affect the way we hit the balls.”

“That’s OK,” I said, “She’s never played topless before, so it’ll be a first for everybody.”

As we finished the short walk to the table Helen said to Jerry, “I want to thank you for your compliment.”

Jerry looked at her and said, “Compliment? What compliment?”

“What you said about not being able to play your best against a topless woman. I took it to mean you liked my tits. It would have been better had you referred to me as a topless ‘girl’ but at my age I’ll settle for topless woman.” I noticed him looking at me quickly before answering her and I assumed that he was looking for a sign that I was OK with the situation, but I’ll never know because he answered her back before I could say anything.

“You’re only as old as you feel” he said, “and you’re always as young as you think.” 

“I must be awful young, then. Playing pool topless is something a college girl would do. Would you believe me if I told you I was only 18?”

“No,” he said with a smile, “You got to be at least 21 to be in a bar and to drink. You’re in the bar and you’re obviously drinking so you can’t be 18.”

“How did you know I’d been drinking?” she asked with a mocking smile. 

“I know this might sound rude, but after the “compliment” I gave you I suppose you would overlook my asking how old you really are?” 

She looked at him and then said. “Old enough to know I shouldn’t be doing this,” she said.

“Doing what?”

“Flashing my tits in a bar. I hope you believe me when I tell you I’ve never done this before. I hope you guys don’t care.”

“Oh, it’s fine with us. I just hope that it won’t offend you if we look at them. They are definitely beautiful.”

“Oooh! Another compliment. To tell you the truth I would be offended if you didn’t look.” 

Joe had been busy racking up the balls while they held their conversation, and after selecting our cues I was chosen to break the pack. I sank one ball but missed on the second shot. Joe shot second and like me sank a ball and then missed 

It was Helen’s turn to shoot and it took her a long time to pick her shot. She walked all around the table twice before selecting an easy shot that she should have seen immediately. It was obvious to me that she was trying to extend the time she was in the limelight. She aimed and she missed. By the time her turn came up again nine balls had been cleared from the table and she had taken two more drinks from her Margarita. Once more she took her time looking for the best shot and once again she missed, only this time she barely managed to graze the cue ball and it wobbled off to the side and hit nothing. “I get to hit over again,” she said as she retrieved the errant ball and placed near its original spot.

“You can’t do that,’ Joe said, “There’s nothing in the rules that say you can take a shot over.”

“Fuck the rules,” Helen said as she shot and sank the ball. “Live with it.” She lined up her second shot and to the surprise of us all she made it with ease. She missed sinking her next ball and Jerry went on a swept the rest of the table. 

While I was racking up the balls for another game, Helen finished off the last of her Margarita and shouted for Buck to bring us some more. God, could she possibly hold more? I was surprised she could function much less shoot pool. 

But shoot pool she did. Joe broke this time but failed to sink any balls. Helen followed and sank two before missing on her third shot, While Jerry was tying the score at two each, Buck came to deliver the Margaritas and I groaned when I realized that he had brought one for each of us, plus beers for Jerry and Joe. I would have to drink another one or leave it for Helen, and with as much as she had already consumed I wasn’t quite ready to let her do that. She made a big deal of his bringing them to her by wrapping her arms around him and rubbing her breasts against his shirt. I think she enjoyed that as much as he did.

When it was her turn to shoot she walked around the table again, and when she returned to her starting point I heard her mumble “Hmmm.” There really was no good shot, but Helen is not the kind of person who gives up easily. The cue ball was mid table and in order to reach the ball with the cue she needed to use the bridge. She placed the bridge on the table and then positioned the cue on the bridge. 

“Tom,” she said, “would you mind giving me my panties back? Walkin’ around with my tits showin’ is one thing, but showin’ my ass and pussy is something else. I saw Jerry and Joe look at one another and both men seemed to take a deep breath.

“Oops.” I said. “I left them in the car. I can go back and get them if you really need them.”

“It’s OK,” Joe said suddenly,. “Jerry and I’ll go to the other end of the table if you want.”

“Or we can promise to keep out eyes closed,” Jerry added quickly. He shot a nasty glance toward Joe as he spoke.

“Well, you gotta do something,” she said. “I wouldn’t want you to think I was showing off on purpose, or anything.”

“We wouldn’t think anything like that. We promise to keep out eyes closed while you shoot.”

“Just make sure you do,” she said as she turned back to study her shot. She hiked her skirt up and then lifted a knee and placed it on the edge of the table. From where I was standing I could see everything and I knew that if they were cheating they could see as well. She was wide open from the base of her spine to her lower part of her stomach. Her cheeks were open and I could see her puckered anus and well as the pink wetness of her pussy. If I hadn’t remembered that we were in a bar and that this was my wife, I would have sworn it was a photograph from one of my magazines. I quickly glanced at our opponents. There are eyes were squinting, but I knew that it was all a façade. How could any man resist the sight of a woman spreading herself open mere foot or so away from them? 

I don’t know what they were thinking, but I knew my own thoughts. It was far more than what I had fantasized about and I was suddenly torn between being extremely turned on and being extremely embarrassed. I found myself debating between pulling her skirt down and covering her up, or sticking my fingers inside her and letting them watch me fingerfuck her. In the end I opted for letting her control the situation while I did nothing. 

“God, I’m sorry I made you do that,” she said when she had finished shooting and had put her foot back on the floor “but I’m so drunk that I had almost forgot I wasn’t wearing panties.” She began giggling a little bit and I thought she was going to break out in laughter again, but she didn’t. “I hope no body peeked.”

“I didn’t see a thing,” Joe said.

“I didn’t look either,” Jerry said, “and I really enjoyed seeing what I didn’t see.” 

That started her laughing again, but it was far from being the uncontrollable laughter she had displayed a few moments before. “I’m glad you enjoyed what you didn’t see,” she said, “and I hope you’re not going to enjoy not seeing it that way again. If you’re true gentlemen you’re going to turn your eyes away if I have to shoot that way again, but I’m too fuckin’ drunk at this point to give a shit whether you see me or not. Just remember that if you see something you don’t like it’s your damn fault. You’ve been warned.”




Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 04



“Hey, man,” Jerry said, “I hope I didn’t cause any trouble between the two of you. If I did then take my apologies and we’ll get out of here.”

“It wasn’t you,” I assured him, “it was me. I made the mistake last night by telling her about my fantasies. She’s always been shy and I was trying to loosen her up a little, that’s all. How was I to know she would take it this far?”

“Well, if it’s any consolation I certainly wouldn’t fuck her of it comes to that.” He paused for a moment, confused, as if trying to figure out if that was consoling me or criticizing my choice of women. In the end he added, “I mean I would if things were different, but not now. I can tell you, though, that you certainly don’t want to lose her. Man, she is one sexy number,”

“So, what do you think I should do? Should we stay or leave?” I don’t know why I was asking Jerry this, but I had to ask someone and he just happened to be available. I knew what his answer would be, of course; if we stayed, he won, and if we left he would lose. 

Jerry couldn’t look me in the eye when he said, “I really don’t think you have an option. If you force her to leave she’s going to be pissed off and you’ll probably have a fight on your hands. If you let her make the decision she might blame you later for not making her leave, but you can always tell her that she has no one to blame but herself. What I can do, however, is to reject her dare. She’ll be forced to accept my original bet, of course, but that’s better for you than the one she suggested, right?”

“Do you really think that would work?” 

“No, not really. One way or the other I think she’s going to get pissed off. We could rig the game, though, to keep your losses to a minimum. If you want to win, Joe and I can blow some shots, and if you want us to win you can do the same. Just let us know so we can play our best or our worst.”

Nice advice, I thought. Regardless of who won or lost the game, I would be the loser and Jerry and Joe would be the winners. I would be forced to either watch her give them both blow jobs or let them watch us perform a private act that no one had ever seen us do before.

“No, we’ll play honestly,” I finally said. “I got into this mess and I guess I’ll have to see it through to the end. Hopefully she’ll pass out before the game ends.”

“Whew, I don’t know whether I’d want to be in your shoes or not,” Jerry said. “Part of me says that I’d like my wife to be as hot as she is but part of me says that I wouldn’t. Whatever happens happens, right? You’re not going to get angry or anything are you?”

“No, I won’t get angry at you, and I’m not going to get angry at her either. It’s my own fucking fault and I’ve got no one to blame but myself. Just treat her right and don’t make fun of her, OK? She might be able to take it, but I couldn’t.”

“I hear you loud and clear, and believe me when I say that I had absolutely no intentions of laughing at her.”

“Thanks, that means a lot.”

I noticed that Helen was now standing at the bar and Buck was taking full advantage of her nudity. He was gazing hungrily at the patch of hair between her legs and she seemed to be enjoying his attention. She was smiling at him as she stood there in her birthday suit and she was sipping on the new Margarita he had given her. 

“So, who’s shot is it anyway?” she said as she walked back to the pool table. “I thought it would only be fair for me to invite Buck to join us and watch what happens. It’s almost midnight and we’re the only ones left in the bar. He’s locking the doors early just in case somebody wants to stop by for a nightcap”. 

“It’s Joe’s turn to shoot,” I told her as my eyes traveled over her luscious body. I felt tremendously turned on, but also a little embarrassed for both my lack of authority over her and the conversation I had with Jerry in her absence.

“Is the bet on?” she asked, looking first at me and then at Jerry.

“The bet is on,” I said, “as long as you still want it to be.”

She looked deep into my eyes as if testing me, and then she said, “Good. Go ahead and shoot Joe, and good luck.” 

Joe approached the table and shot. Of the four of us he was the least experienced player, but with a lucky break he managed to sink two balls with a single shot, and to add insult to injury he had left himself a long but easy shot at one of their two remaining balls. He took the time to chalk his cue before shooting, and the ball went into the hole with no problem. It was now a tied game, with one ball for each of us on the table. 

Helen picked up her cue just as Buck arrived. She smiled at him and then leveled her shoulders, took aim and sunk our remaining ball. Unfortunately the cue ball spun to the left and managed to bank its way behind their remaining ball and there was no way for her to hit the eight ball, let alone sink it. She did the only think she could and played defensively.

When Jerry approached the table he studied the position of the balls for a few seconds. “Things are starting to get a little hairy here,” he said. 

“Not as hairy as it was before I trimmed it,” Helen giggled as she ran the palm of her hand over her cunt. 

Jerry started laughing, and as a result he hit the cue ball too hard and it ricocheted off its target and sank the eight ball. It had been close, but we had won.

“I get to take that over,” he said, “You were making me laugh.” 

“There’s nothing in the rules that says you can take it over,” Helen said with a smug grin.

“Seems to me someone once said ‘fuck the rules,’ Do you happen to remember who that was?”

“Yeah,’ Helen said with a huge grin on her face, “that was me. The only difference is that I got away with it and you can’t.” 

“Just kidding,” Jerry said as took the remaining balls and dropped them in the pockets and then placed his placed his cue stick on the rack. “You won fair and square.”

“Sorry you don’t get a blow job, but I promise we’ll give you a show you’ll never forget,” she said as she put her cue on the rack.

“I’m sure you will.. I’ve seen some movies and I’ve looked in magazines, but I’ve never actually seen anyone making love before.”

“We’re not going to be making love,” Helen informed him, “we’re going to be fucking.” 

“What’s the difference?”

“Are you married?”

“Yes”

“Then you’ll understand when I say that making love is when you get in bed together with your partner and you’re deeply in love and want to please them. It’s soft and warm and safe and beautiful and absolutely wonderful. Making love is great most of the time, but once in a while it’s nice to just fuck your brains out. Fucking is hot and sweaty and dirty. There’s no holds barred and you can indulge your wildest fantasy. You can wallow in your excesses and forget about everything proper and nice and clean and normal. You can experiment and break any taboo that you feel like breaking. Fucking is lewd and obscene and as nasty as you can make it. It’s about sucking cock and eating pussy. It’s tasting and smelling and losing control and just letting yourself feel free enough to be as perverted and horny as you want to be. 

“So, are you going to let yourself go and be really nasty?” 

“You can bet your ass on it. These opportunities don’t come along all that often and I plan on making the most of it. I can hardly wait to feel his stiff cock ramming itself into my pussy.” She turned to me and I could see the hunger in her eyes. “You are going to ram it into me, aren’t you? I want you to fuck me like you’ve always wanted to fuck me. I want you to degrade me and I want them to watch you do it..” 

I didn’t know what to say. Helen had never said things like this before. In the privacy of out bedroom I had sometimes encouraged her to act this way, to be hungry and horny and nasty and perverted, but she had never let herself go completely. There had always been the reticence, the embarrassment of enjoying what she perceived as wrong. Now she thought nothing about doing it in front of complete strangers. Was she being serious, or was she mocking me, making me ashamed of the very things that I had always encouraged her to do? Doing it in the privacy of our bedroom was one thing, but hearing her now describe the things she wanted me to do to her was making her look like nothing more than a whore, a slut who would do anything anyone wanted, a nymphomaniac who was good for a quick fuck but nothing more. I was thinking, stop. Please, Helen, just stop. MEN are supposed to be the animals, not women, and especially not wives.. 

“I’m ready to get on the table,” she said as she downed the rest of her Margarita. 

“Let me go to the bar first and get some towels for you to lay on,” Buck said, “I wouldn’t want you to get any stains on the surface of the table. Anyone want a free drink while I’m there?”

“Sure,” Helen said, “one more can’t hurt.”

“And bring me a couple too,” I told him. “I think I’m going to need them.”


 **********

When he came back he handed us our drinks, and then he covered the pool table with towels. I quickly downed half of one of the Margaritas and then set it on the far edge of the table.

“Are you sure you really want to do this?” I asked Helen.

“You better believe it,” she replied. “Here, let me help you get naked.” With that, she began unzipping my pants. 

Jerry had set up a row of chairs along one edge of the table, and as I was getting undressed Helen used one of them as a stepping stool. Once on the table she faced her audience and then squatted down with her knees spread apart and watched me as I took my shoes, my shirt and my pants. I was looking directly at her and all I could see was the open hole between her legs and the pink folds of her labia spread obscenely apart. Standing there in just my white Jockey shorts I felt foolish. I had never been shy about nudity with women, but I had an erection, and to be seen in that condition by a group of men made me uncomfortable. With my shorts still on I stepped onto the chair and then joined her on the table.

I didn’t know what to do. Like a complete schmuck I just stood there waiting for her to make the first move. The erection beneath my underwear was obvious but I was hesitant in pulling it out, not just because I was shy, but also because she was my wife! Somehow it just didn’t seem right to fuck her while everyone just sat around the table like perverted vultures waiting for the carrion to ripen. I knew I had to do it, and had she been any woman other than my wife I would have had fewer qualms, but she was and I was afraid of what she would think of herself - and me - when she sobered up. I was, after all, her protector, not her assailant. Drunk as I was it seemed more like rape than fucking.

She was lying back on the towels, her upper body supported on her elbows. Her knees were spread apart, mocking me, challenging me, making me want her more than ever, and making me more afraid than ever of losing her. We locked eyes and as we stared at one another I pulled down my shorts and kicked them to the side.

She never said a word, but her eyes shifted to my swollen cock and I saw her lick her lips before she leaned forward and put her mouth around it. Her hands went between my legs and she began massaging my ass. At first it was only on the fleshy part of the buttocks, but as her head began bobbing up and down on my stiff staff they moved to the center and she began pulling my buttocks apart, running her fingers tenderly over my anus, touching it, feeling it, spreading me apart little by little. She was moaning and whimpering, sucking and feeling, lost in some world far beyond our present location.

I felt my knees weakening and I grabbed on to her hair and began to help her. With every thrust I made I pulled her head down, with every withdrawal I pushed it away. I was fucking her face and she loved it. 

Suddenly I felt her finger enter my asshole, and for a moment it seemed as we were fucking each other in tandem. My cock was fucking her face and her finger was fucking my ass. No longer was I concerned about the three horny men watching us perform, instead I was concentrating on the exquisite pleasure that was assailing all my senses. 

Suddenly the sensation ended. She pulled her mouth away from my cock and then pressed it tightly against my body. Her tongue began slowly licking the shaft. Her finger had pulled out of my ass and was now engaged in gently cradling my nuts, rolling them sensuously from side to side. Her eyes were open and she was looking up at me with a look of wonder. Slowly she dipped her head down and sucked in one of my balls. 

“Be careful,” I said, “don’t suck too hard.”

“Don’t worry,” she whispered, “just enjoy the experience.”

It was the first words we had spoken since I had joined her on the pool table. Amazingly I found that I was no longer shy and hesitant. She was enjoying it so why shouldn’t I? This had been a fantasy of mine since college, and although I had never really had the nerve to put it into words, Helen had somehow understood my need and was not only empowering me to act on my fantasy, but to enjoy it as well. God’s in His heaven, I thought, and all’s right with the world.

She sucked on my balls for a few more minutes before she pulled away and sat up. “I don’t want you to cum yet,” she said. She smiled at me and then reached over to the side of the table and grabbed her Margarita. She took a drink and then turned so she was facing our now all-but-forgotten family of friends. “Would someone get a pack of cigarettes from my purse?” she asked. Joe went over to the table where her purse was and brought it back. We both lit one and as the smoke traveled down into my lungs I realized just how long I had gone without one. It tasted good. 

“Damn, you are so hot,” Jerry said as he looked directly at her pussy.

“Not too bad for a forty two year old woman, am I?”

“Hell no. I’d stuff a five dollar bill in your G-string any time,” he said. 

“Only a five?” Helen said with a mock pout on her face. 

“I might be talked into a twenty.”

“Skip it,” she said, “I’m not looking for your money. The way I feel now I’d probably let you slip it in for nothing”

“Too bad you’re not wearing a G-String.” 

“Why? A G-string would only spoil your view.”

“You’re right, it would. Too bad, though, since half the fun of giving them money is feeling the skin underneath it.”

“I have a good idea,” she said as she took a drag on her cigarette. “Why don’t you just pretend I’m wearing a G-string? I can play make believe if you can.” Without waiting for a reply, I watched as she lay back on the table and spread her legs in front of him. I didn’t say anything. I just watched.

He stood up and looked at her spread out on the pool table.. He reached out a hand and with the back of it he began to slowly move it up and down over her pussy. At first he seemed tentative, but when she offered no resistance he became bolder. Soon his hand turned over and he slipped a finger between her two moist lips and began stroking the inside of her. His eyes caught mine for a fleeting instant, but I tried as best I could to remain passive. As his finger delved deeper into the warm wetness I saw her hands move to her breasts and she begin playing with the nipples. 

Watching her being fingered by him was driving me insane. I couldn’t help but reach down and stroke my cock. The heat of the moment was incredible, and I suddenly sprang forward and squatted over her face, forcing her to open her mouth and take me inside her as I watched his finger jamming itself in and out of her cunt. As she sucked eagerly on my prick I forced his hand away and violently stuffed three of mine inside her now empty hole.

“Mmmm, Mmmm, Mmmm’ she grunted loudly as her hips raised up to meet my hand. Her cigarette had fallen out of her hand and had landed on the towel next to her hip, and I vaguely remember seeing Buck quickly reach out and pick it up. “Mmmm, Mmmm, Mmmm” she kept crying out as I pumped her pussy as hard and as deeply as I could. I knew she would be cumming soon, and I wanted them all to see her lose control. 

Finally it came. I felt her vagina contract and squeeze my fingers, then the release of the warm wetness that coated my hand as it slipped out of her and flowed down the inside of her legs and ass. I dove forward and placed my mouth on her wet sloppy pussy and began slurping up all of her juices. I forced her body sideways and pulled her ass apart as far as possible as my tongue forced its way into her cunt. I wanted them to see me eat her and feast their eyes on her entire nakedness in all its pornographic glory. 

Finally I turned her again so that she was lying face down on me as she sucked my dick and I licked her pussy. We were in the classic woman-on-top 69 position and her asshole was directly above my nose and in front of my eyes. I reached up with one hand and slowly began inserting a finger into her anus. Her body began trembling again, and soon I was rewarded with another gush of warm, almost piss-like fluid that slowly oozed its way out of her cunt and onto my face. I quickly licked it away, knowing full well that my depravity was my strength and my strength was in overcoming my initial shyness.

I still had not cum, and I suddenly knew what I had to do. All evening long she had been trying to be as slutty and as whorish as she thought I wanted her to be. She had wanted to fuck, and now I was going to fuck her. My cock was telling me that it would last forever, that I could make her cum again, only this time after she came I would stick it in her mouth and then, at the last moment, pull it out and squirt my warm jizz all over her pretty face and then tell her to lick it off. I was no longer worried about what they thought or what she thought. I now wanted them to watch as the cum flew out of my cock and landed on her face in large globs, and I wanted them to see her hungrily reach out with her tongue and lick away the dribbles that ran down her face. 

I pushed her spent body away and then helped her turn over. I spread her legs apart and then lowered myself down into her. I had never lasted this long before, and I saw the look of wonder on her face as she wrapped her legs around me and she put her hands on my ass pulling me even deeper into the recesses of her warm body. Her face was flush and I could feel the warm, wet perspiration on her body as she said “Fuck me! Make me cum again! I want to feel your cock erupting inside my cunt. Fuck me HARD!”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. My pumping started to increase and she was responding with more vulgarities than I had ever heard from her before. Was she doing it just to please me or was she really into this new game of show-it-all? I didn’t know and at this point I really didn’t care. All I could think about was my own orgasm, and as the pressure built up in my balls I pulled out of her and quickly straddled her face. “Suck me,” I cried, hoping I could get it in her mouth before I came. Hungrily she sucked my cock in and it was only moments before I felt it emptying itself into her mouth.

“Oh shit,” I cried out as the first ejaculation shot into her throat. She had never let me do this before, but apparently she was too drunk to realize how far along I was in terms of readiness. She immediately started to gag and as quickly as she could she pushed my hips upward, forcing the last three squirts of cum to land on her face. I saw the look of disgust on her face as she tried valiantly to cough up the offending fluid. I watched her face as she nearly retched, but being as drunk as I was I didn’t give a shit. Instead I wiped my finger over her wet face and when I had collected as much cum as I could I wiped it against her lips and said, “Lick it off. I want them to see you tasting my cum.”

If looks could kill suddenly I wouldn’t be around to tell this story, but her angry look slowly turned itself into a smile and she simply said “Thank you.” She immediately returned to being the dutiful wife again and she brought my finger to her mouth and sucked off all the offensive fluid. Finally, with no urging from me, she began wiping up the rest of the semen from her face and licking that off her hand as well. She was looking at me and smiling the whole time she did it and quite honestly it was beginning to turn me on again. At this rate I would be ready to cum again shortly. 




Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 04



Unfortunately that was not to be the case. After she had cleansed the rest of her face the best she could she turned to our three amigos and said, “Would someone hand me my dress?” It was only then that we realized that both Jerry and Buck had their pants pulled down and were stroking their dicks. Only Joe was still unexposed. He shook his head, as if apologizing for their behavior, and then went to retrieve her dress.

Buck seemed unconcerned with his nakedness and continued stroking. Jerry, on the other hand, looked somewhat embarrassed and he struggled to pull his pants up. “Wait,” Helen said as she looked at both their cocks, “I’ve changed my mind. I’d like to give you all blowjobs after all. I’m ready for more cum.”

She drained her Margarita glass and then gargled before swallowing it. She stood up and I watched Jerry’s eyes as he starred intently at her pussy as she stepped off the table onto the empty chair. “Pull your pants down again,” she commanded and he was only too eager to oblige her. She knelt in front of him and then began playing with his huge erection. “I finally got to see your dick,” she said matter-of-factly, then she lowered her head and started running her tongue over the helmeted tip of his penis. 

I couldn’t help but stare. The idea of bringing her to the bar in the first place had been about showing her off a little, but somewhere it had gotten out of control. I had never expected her to get completely naked, nor had I even remotely envisioned that we would actually fuck in front of others. She was my wife, and to now see her on her on her knees sucking a stranger’s cock was more than a little unsettling. Nevertheless it was extremely erotic, so instead of saying anything I simply watched passively. 

Soon I saw his body begin to stiffen and I knew he was ready to shoot his sperm. I expected her to notice as well, but she didn’t and I watched in agony as his cum shot into her mouth. Not only did she not pull away as she had with me, she seemed to enjoy it. She continued to suck until he was drained and he had to physically push her head away. She turned to face me and she smiled. She opened her mouth and I could see the white goo that covered her tongue. She was indicating to me, I suppose, that not only was she no longer angry at my insistence that she taste cum, but that she loved it. I was beginning to feel nauseated. 

If that little demonstration of her newfound lust for life’s experiences wasn’t enough, she had the temerity to quickly spit it out onto the palm of her hand and then wipe it on her face. She gave me another one of her shit-eating grins and then moved over to Buck, who was still rock hard and pumping away on himself with a total lack of modesty. “Gobble down on this one, bitch,” I heard him say, and I felt sorry for her. She was doing her best, I thought, to give them pleasure and he was treating her like she was a piece of meat, food for his pleasure and nothing more. 

“God I love a man that treats me like the whore I really am,” she said.. She made sure that she said it loud enough for me to hear. She wrapped her hand around his short cock and gave it a few swift strokes and then swallowed it all the way up to his balls. Unluckily for him he was quick in climaxing so he missed most of the pleasures of a true blowjob, but to hear the grunting he made you would have thought he had lasted for hours. Like she had done with Jerry she accepted it all willingly into her mouth before spitting it out onto her hand and smearing it on her face and licking her hand clean again.

Joe, who was the only one of the three who was still modestly covered, was next in line. “Pull down your pants so I can suck you too,” Helen said.

“I think I’ll pass,” he told her. “Nothing against you, but I don’t usually go for women.”

“You’re gay?”

He smiled and said, “Yeah. I don’t suppose Tom would care to trade places with you, would he?”

Helen let out a little laugh and said, “You can ask him, but I’ve been married to him for twenty years and believe me when I say that he’s one hundred per cent straight.”

“Oh well,” Joe said, and then he started to laugh, “I guess we can’t win them all, can we?”

It was no wonder that Joe had been so quite during the evening. It made me feel slightly uncomfortable knowing that while Helen had been flaunting her body all evening for their pleasure, he had secretly been desiring ME! I’m no homophobe, but guys like him make my skin crawl. At least he didn’t have the swishy characteristics that so many of his ilk exhibit.

The show was over. Everyone was happy except Joe. Helen had given more than I had ever dreamed possible, yet there was a nagging fear inside me that she had been too eager to please, and too willing to go beyond the scope of my fantasies. It was one thing to do what I had always wanted her to do, but it was quite another to go beyond those limits. 

“Are you ready to go?” she asked. “It’s after 1 o’clock and we still have a half hour’s drive in front of us.”

“Is it that late?” I picked up my clothes and started to dress. Helen was sitting on the side of the pool table and talking to the three guys. It didn’t seem like she was in any great hurry to get dressed again

After I had finished dressing I said, “Go wash your face and get dressed. If we’re going to go, let’s go.” 

“No,” she said.

“No? Didn’t you just ask if I was ready to go?”

“I’m ready to go, I’m just not ready to wash my face and get dressed. I’m going to ride home naked and I want to see the dried cum on my face in the morning so I’ll remember that this wasn’t just a dream.”

“You can’t be serious. The car is two blocks away. How do you expect to get from here to there?”

“Unless you want to carry me I suppose I’ll have to walk.”

“Are you crazy? I don’t mind you riding home naked, but at least put something on until we get to the car.”

“I guess you’re right,” she sighed.. She put on her shoes and then draped her skirt and blouse over her arm and said, “Ready?”

“Cut the act,” I said angrily. “You know damn good and well that you wouldn’t make it more than a few feet before you changed your mind.” 

“Want to bet?”

“Jesus, Tom,” Jerry piped in, “any time you want to switch wives with me just let me know. I’ve been looking for someone like her all my life. I can’t get my wife to walk around the house naked much less on a city street.” 

“Fuck you, Jerry,” I said pointedly. I was almost sober by now and was starting to feel the same paranoia I had experienced earlier in the evening. Things were definitely not going my way. 

“Let her at least try,” Buck said. “This time of night it’s like a ghost town out there. Everyone’s asleep by now. She shouldn’t have any trouble making it.”

I knew Helen well enough to know that there was no way that she could walk two whole blocks in the nude. It wasn’t like her. The minute she saw any signs of life she would scamper like a frightened deer for the nearest hiding place. It’s one thing to flash your breasts at an oncoming car when you’re drunk and having fun, but walking bare ass naked for two blocks down a fairly well traveled major thoroughfare, regardless of the lateness of the hour, was something else entirely. Somewhat hesitantly I decided to call her bluff. 

“OK, if you want to do this then let’s go, and don’t say I didn’t warn you. If anyone sees you and stops, even if it’s the police, I’ll deny knowing you. I’ll just pretend that you’re a complete stranger and let them do whatever they want.” I was lying, of course, but I was hoping she’d believe it. 

Carefully so as to not disturb the precious cum that was still on her face, she gave them all quick kisses and she thanked them for being such gentlemen. I almost burst out laughing, but I didn’t. I followed her to the front door and watched as she opened it and walked outside without even checking to see if anyone was around. 

As we walked down the street I kept listening for cars and my eyes were darting back and forth making sure there was no one watching. I saw no one and as the walk continued I began to realize that perhaps Buck was right. It was late and the street seemed completely devoid of life. After the first block I began to relax a little and actually began to enjoy the thrill of watching her as she walked naked beside me. I even put my arm around her and felt the warmth of her hip and butt as we walked. I certainly didn’t want anyone to catch us like this, but the sheer daring of it was beginning to excite me and I could feel my cock getting harder again. Sex is as much psychological as physical, and the danger of being caught was as erotic to me to me as the sight of her naked body. 

When we reached the second intersection I saw our car. It was still in the parking lot of the bar where we had left it. I knew at that point that we had made it and that I could relax again. As we crossed the street I reached in my pocket and got the keys. After unlocking the door I heard Helen say, “Want to fuck one last time?” 

“Oh God, yes,” I said as I opened the car door. I had expected her to get in, but instead she closed the door and said, “Not in the car. Let’s do it here in the parking lot.” 

I was too excited at this point to say no, but I looked at the cold cement and tried to imagine how we would accomplish it without pain and suffering. As if reading my mind she laid her dress on the ground and then put her knees on them and bent over. “Do me doggy style,” she said. 

There was a light shining down on us, presumably installed by the bar to discourage vandals in the evening hours. We were as immersed in light as if it had been daytime. Had anyone been there to see, it would have been impossible for them not to know what we were doing. I quickly looked over my shoulder at the deserted streets and when I saw nothing I unbuckled my pants and let them drop to the ground. Careful to keep my knees covered by my pants I knelt behind her and guided my cock into the warmth of her open slit.

“Oh shit, that feels so fantastic,” I moaned as I began moving it slowly in and out of her. My hands were on her hips and I was pulling her back toward me with every thrust I made forward. I was so hard that I felt myself reaching the end of her tunnel and touching the wall, that membrane or bone or cartilage that prevents further access into her body. 

Suddenly I heard the sound of a door open and as I hurriedly looked to my left I saw a girl standing in front of the bar and locking up. She hadn’t seen us yet, but I knew that it was only a matter of seconds until she did. We were fucking no more than ten feet from her and the lighting that bathed us made us impossible to miss. 

“Oh shit,” I whispered to Helen, “there’s someone coming out of the bar.” 

“Who cares?” Helen grunted, “Just fuck me.”

“Oh my God!” I heard a female voice say, but there was nothing I could do. Suddenly the fear and the thrill of being seen by someone sent me over the top. As I felt the seed shoot from my cock into Helen’s body I looked up again and saw the girl standing there with a shocked look on her face, staring at the two mating bodies in front of her.

My eyes were still on her as I erupted time after time into Helen. I had no idea whether she was exited or disgusted by the raw and raunchy display she was witnessing, but my imagination convinced me that she was excited. I imagined her masturbating in her car on her long, lonely drive home, hurrying to let her husband or her boyfriend or her vibrator do to her what I was doing to Helen. 

As the last weak squirt of semen dribbled into Helen’s cunt I withdrew and stood up. With her legs still obscenely spread apart, I could see the warm cum begin to ooze out of her and run down her legs. I stood and faced the girl, letting her get a good long look at my dick as it slowly began to wilt. For good measure I put my hand around it and squeezed the last few precious drops out for what I hoped was the girl’s pleasure. I smiled obscenely at her and then followed Helen as she opened the car door and got in. 

As we drove away I looked back one last time at the girl. She was still standing in the same position as she had stood before. 

I honked the horn and waved at her as we hurriedly made our getaway.

 **********

True to her word, Helen drove all the way home naked. Never once did she try to cover herself or act in the least embarrassed.. The streets were almost completely deserted, but there were a few cars that we passed or who passed us, and although I never saw any acknowledgement on anyone’s face, it was more than possible that they would have gotten an eyeful had they only turned their head at the right time. Once we turned on to the Freeway Helen closed her eyes and slept until my braking at the exit ramp woke her up. She was fully awake by the time we reached home. 

As we drove into the driveway I shut off the motor and handed Helen her skirt and blouse. She simply draped them over her arm and got out of the car. It was almost three in the morning and it was doubtful if any of our neighbors were awake, but when the motion detector turned on the light above the door she could be easily seen by anyone who just happened to be looking out a window at the time. It didn’t seem as if it fazed Helen at all and she just stood there quietly as I fumbled with the keys and finally got the door open.

Without a single word Helen walked up the stairs to our bedroom and she was fast asleep again by the time I had finished in the bathroom and joined her. Before turning off the bedroom light I saw the dried cum that was still on her face. That image, as well as others kept me awake until after the sun came up.. 

It was after one in the afternoon when I finally woke up. I had a slight hangover and immediately went in to the bathroom to shower, shampoo, shave, shit, and shovel in a mouthful of aspirins, but not necessarily in that order. Helen was still asleep and I was obviously curious as to what shape she was in. She rarely drank like I did, yet she had consumed more than me. I quietly dressed and snuck out of the bedroom without waking her.

I was watching one of the “talk” programs that proliferate during midday on both the networks and the independent stations. The topic was “How to keep your daughter from being a teenage tease” A young girl of about fifteen was cursing her mother (the actual profanities were bleeped out, of course) and the mother was near tears. 

“Educational programming?” I heard Helen saying as she entered the room.

“The typical garbage,” I answered as I pushed the button on the remote and the TV went blank. “Do you feel as bad as you look?”

“I don’t know. I was afraid to look in the mirror. I’ve got awful headache and my stomach’s queasy. I think I’m going back to bed in a few minutes. The only reason I got up was because I had to throw up.”

“You certainly had a lot to drink last night. You’ll feel better later.”

She didn’t answer. She just turned around and went back up the stairs. I turned on the TV again. It was a new girl cussing out a new mother so I sat back in my chair and watched.

----------------------- 

It was after seven o’clock in the evening when she re-emerged from the bedroom. She looked a lot better. She had obviously taken a shower as her hair was wet and the dried cum on her face had been removed. 

“I see you washed away all the evidence,” I said to her. She cast a dirty look in my direction and said, “Don’t remind me. It’s not something I’m proud of.”

“You certainly seemed proud of it last night. You were in rare form.”

“So rare that you’re never going to see me like that again.”

“See what I told you? If we had left when I suggested it that wouldn’t have happened.”

“When did you suggest that we leave?”

“Right after you made that ridiculous bet.”

“It was too late by then. By then I wanted to stay. If you had left when I suggested it that bet would never have happened.”

“And just when did you tell me that YOU wanted to leave?” 

“I wanted to leave before we even went to that last bar. Once we got there and I did that dance for you – and for everybody else – I made up my mind that I was going to stay. By that time it was too late to change the inevitable. I was already lost.”

I wanted to tell her that going to the last bar was the whole idea behind the evening, but I knew that telling her that would reveal too much of my motives. It would be best if I kept that a secret and let her think that it was HER idea to be so public with her body.

“What do you mean inevitable? Nothing is ever written in stone.”

“That all depends on whose doing the writing. Inevitability is just a fancy name for resolve.”

The conversation was getting deep and I was beginning to lose track of what it all meant. “I still don’t understand. You’re blaming me for not leaving when you wanted to leave, and you didn’t leave when I wanted to leave. Why didn’t you want to leave then? 

“Because by then I was having fun. I had already lost my way, so to speak.”

“So what’s wrong with having fun?”

“Nothing. Unless you enjoy the fun too much.”

“Huh? What does that mean? How can you enjoy things too much?”

“If you don’t understand, then there’s no way I can explain it.”

“That’s bullshit. How can it be wrong? We enjoyed it, they enjoyed it, and no one made any moral judgments about anything. 

“I did.”

“Then why did you make that ridiculous bet?” I was beginning to realize that somewhere along the line I must have missed something. She wasn’t making a whole lot of sense to me.

“For a lot of reasons. In the first place I was drunk and beyond caring one way or the other as what happened. Secondly I was daring myself to see how far I would go and how far you were willing to let me go. And finally I wanted you to remember that at least for once in your life you had the upper hand and had me the way that you wanted me.”

“That’s not the way I wanted you to be.”

“Oh, it wasn’t? Then why do you look at those magazines? The girls in those magazines are nothing more than whores. If you look at them it’s because you imagine yourself with them. So I decided to be a whore for the evening to show you what it would be like. Didn’t you enjoy my slutty behavior?”

“No, not really.”

“No? Thank you, now I’m off the hook. Now I don’t feel so guilty in gelling you that I’ll never be that way again, so remember it well.”

She turned and walked out of the room.


TO BE CONTINUED



Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 05



I didn’t realize it at the time, but when Helen walked out of the room our lives had changed. She was true to her promise and we never did anything like it again. She ALLOWED me the opportunity to make love to her from time to time, but now it was always when SHE wanted it and on HER terms. Every time it happened we both seemed tentative and self-conscious. It was the memories of what happened that night that had driven us apart. I remembered the wild and uninhibited woman that she could be when she let herself go, and she remembered the dirty, wanton slut that she could be if she didn’t constantly hold herself in check. It was a perfect stalemate, and there seemed to be no way to resolve our differences. Soon we began the slow process of drawing away from each other. We began crawling away from the center of the bell shaped curve, her to her side and me to mine. The crawling away became a walk and the walk soon became a run It didn’t take long to develop into a gallop. 

We slept in the same bed as before and we talked civilly. We went about our lives in the same manner we always had, and we even enjoyed each other’s company. As long as the subject of sex wasn’t mentioned everything seemed normal. The kids never knew our problems nor did our friends. On the outside nothing seemed to have changed, but on the inside everything seemed dead, or at least dying. There was many a night I lay in bed next to her thinking about sex and longing to turn her way and put my arms around her, to talk to her, to cuddle with her, to feel her naked body next to mine, to make love to her, to fuck her; anything, everything, most of all something, something that would make everything OK again. But I never did. Instead I would lay there beside her, my back to hers and hers to mine, and rather than interrupt her sleep only to face rejection and ridicule I would pretend to be asleep while I quietly masturbated. As the years went on my nighttime erections became less and less frequently, and before long my sexual needs, like Helen’s, evaporated into nothingness. Don’t get me wrong, I still thought about sex, but there was no physical reaction whatsoever. My mind still worked but my body didn’t. As best I can recall I had my last erection in 1996.

Helen was diagnosed with lung cancer in October of 1997 and she died August 2 of 1998. She had never smoked until she married me, and I felt a little guilty over her death, but only a little. I’m a firm believer that a person should take responsibility for his or her own actions. She had made that choice herself, and I don’t think I could have stopped her had I tried.

They say that whatever goes around, comes around, and three weeks before her death I was diagnosed with emphysema. Maybe one of these days I’ll take responsibility for my OWN actions and finally quit. I haven’t yet.

*********

Fast forward again, if you will, another year. It’s now the summer of 1999 and my adventures (and misadventures) with Angel are about to begin. She’s the one this story is about, and what I have been telling you so far has only been background. I felt obliged to tell you how I got to be who I am now. Had I not, the story might wouldn’t have meaning. I suppose some of you have found that you don’t really like me, but that’s OK. There are traits about me that I don’t like either, but I was determined to show myself warts and all. It wouldn’t be fair of me to tell you about Angel, exhibitionist par excellent, without having the nerve to expose at least a little of myself.

It was strange the way I met Angel. She lives (or maybe lived, since I haven’t had contact with her for over a year) only a few miles from me, yet as far as I know I had never seen her before the day she showed up on my doorstep. I know I would have remembered her. She was there because I had put an advertisement in the newspaper for a model and of those that responded she was the one I hired. 

The ad was worded as follows: 

WANTED: 
Liberal thinking woman 18 – 35 for non-pornographic 
video project. Nudity required. Good looks not as important a fun 
attitude. This is NOT a sex ad! Call Tom @ 555-4567 

The idea had been inspired by an article I read in one of those underground newspapers that are sold in racks along Hollywood Blvd. It purported to be an interview with an ex-porno actress who had recently opened a studio on Santa Monica Blvd in Hollywood where, for an hourly fee, amateur photographers and filmmakers (i.e. anyone who had the $$$’s and who had tired of sticking them a strippers G-strings) could hire a model, rent both film and camera, and get their rocks off by watching a beautiful girl spread their legs in a more private way than you could find at a ‘gentleman’s’ club. According to the “article” the “models” were “more than willing” to have their image taken in “any position” the “photographer” needed to create his art. The only caveat was that no “sexual activity” between “artist” and “model” would be allowed. Money is always money, however, so it stood to reason that if an ex-porno actress was posing for a horny man who felt no guilt over lying about his artistic talents the sexual activity that wasn’t allowed probably was. From a legal standpoint I suppose they had to mention that in the interview to throw the police off track. 

I was never really tempted to check the place out since 1) I was impotent, 2) I had never been one to visit prostitutes, and 3) what floated my bubble was to see women acting out the wildness of their freedom rather than performing the requirements of their profession. Being with a woman who publicly bared her breasts for fun was far more erotic to me than being with a whore who needed to fuck in order to survive. Sometimes I wondered whether it was actually the nudity that turned me on or the pleasure I derived from watching girls enjoy themselves. The whole idea of pretending to be a serious artist so I could hire a girl who would then pretend to be my model all so the police could pretend that we were 100 per cent legitimate and not engaged in anything illegal struck me as a particularly hilarious scenario since I couldn’t get Junior to grow any bigger than my thumb even if I tried. The article did, however, give me an idea for the ad and the more I thought about it, the better it sounded. Some nights I would lie in bed and simply think about the various scenarios that were possible. The beaches, the mountains, the desert, all were within an hour’s driving distance. There was no shortage of places where we could go to experiment with a little friendly streaking, flashing, flirting, teasing and other creative ways of demonstrating her playful nature. My camera and her boldness could create a most enjoyable experience. As long as she was willing to have fun I would have fun, and for THAT I would be willing to spend money. 

The next morning I went over my options. I knew that the project wouldn’t be inexpensive (even though they might have fun doing it, girls didn’t usually get naked for free unless they were drunk out of their mind or in love) so it was now a simple matter of deciding how much I would need spend and how I would spend it. Even though I was worth nearly two million dollars (on paper) money was still a consideration, but with Helen out of the picture and the kids now on their own and doing well (OK, doing SEMI-well) what else did I need the money for except for my own pleasure? 

In the end I decided that one model for a number of days was better than a number of models each for a day. It would give me the opportunity to get to know her and, by extension, get the most out of her assets while avoiding her shortcomings. In the best-case scenario she could even become a valuable assistant. She could help in the planning process by suggesting places to go, things to wear, scenarios to act out, and other matters I might otherwise overlook. In the beginning only she would know what her assets were and what she was most comfortable with, and the knowledge would make for a more enjoyable experience for us both. I figured that $300 per day would be a sufficient amount to pay, and to sweeten the pot I would guarantee her work for twenty days. Twenty days at $300 per day came to $6000 dollars, and taking into account expenses (video camera, tape, gasoline for the car, admissions to public events, food and drink, exotic/erotic clothing, etc) I could easily do the whole thing for less than $10,000. That wasn’t bad at all. Helen and I had spent that much on our vacation to Paris and this promised to be much more fun. 

That night I wrote the ad and in the morning I called the paper and told them run it. 

**********

It was two weeks to the day when I received the first response. It was a Thursday night and it came in the way of a message on my phone recorder. Two weeks was a long time and I had almost decided to pull the ad, but she had left her name and phone number so I called, hoping that our conversation would fire up my imagination again Her name was Molly, and after exchanging pleasantries we got down to business. When the subject of money came up I told her I would pay her $300 per day with a guarantee of 20 days. I think I offended her. Disdainfully she informed me the last shoot she was on paid her $1500 per day and it was finished in 4 days. I’m quick at math and immediately realized that she had made as much money in those four days as I was offering for twenty. There were undoubtedly assassins running around somewhere that would perform whacks for that kind of money. 

I tried to tippy-toe carefully around the subject of money by emphasizing the R rated nature of my interests but not for a moment did I really think it would do much good. When the subject came up again I decided to generously increase my offer to $500 per day. She said that she couldn’t possibly accept such a low figure, but she would entertain offers of less than $2000 if I were to give her a written contract stipulating that she wouldn’t be asked to take it up the ass or swallow cum. 

I laughed out loud and then told her there was no way I could afford more than $500 per day.

She laughed out loud and then hung up the phone without even bothering to say goodbye. 

I added her number to my Rolodex file in case I ever wanted to hire her for fifteen minutes. 

Ten minutes later I was in hysterics again when I fantasized a scenario of the two of us going to court over breech of contract.

*********

Like I said earlier, after two weeks I had almost given up hope of getting any responses, so I was floored when I arrived home from work on Friday night and found another message on my machine. Her name was Cheryl and within minutes I knew that I wasn’t going to hire her. She couldn’t shut up about all the nasty things she had done in the past. She spoke so fast and her tales were so rambling and incredibly perverted that I suspected she was either on drugs or pulling my leg. When she got to the part where she fucked a dwarf that she had met at a Bingo Parlor I interrupted and informed her that I had already selected a model for the shoot. She was very disappointed because she really, really, REALLY liked getting naked. 

Like I had done with Molly’s I filed her number in my Rolodex. Who knew? She might go into rehab some day and be worth hiring after she was cured. 

***********

On Saturday morning I received another. It was like a feast after a famine. Her name was Karen and she was more to my liking. She was only twenty years old. I remembered Molly’s derisive laughter so I kept the rate at $500 per day. When Karen quickly accepted the amount I was so surprised that I ended up forgetting to mention that it would be done in public settings. I remembered mentioning in passing that most of the work would be done outside but that was the extent of it. Maybe she was kissing up to me to get the job, but when she told how wonderful it sounded on the phone and that she was dying to meet me in person, I took it all in stride and didn’t hold it against her one bit. I immediately made an appointment for her to come by on Monday morning at 10 AM. Having never conducted an interview of this nature I didn’t know the protocol, but I did have the presence of mind to tell her that I needed to take a short videotape of her in the nude and have her accompany me on a short field trip to determine whether she would be right for the type of video I was interested in taking. I certainly didn’t want her to get the impression that I was just a horny old man that wanted to see chicks naked for free, so I quickly added that I would pay her $100 for coming to the interview and accompanying me on the field trip. She quickly agreed to those demands. 

I spent the rest of the morning at the mall purchasing a video camera as well as ten blank tapes, and for most of the afternoon I experimented with it. I certainly didn’t want to appear as a complete novice. By dinnertime I had learned enough to make a fairly decent tape. I had learned to keep everything in focus at least6 most of the time, and there were fewer and fewer shots of feet to contend with. I had also corrected my impulse to zoom in and out on objects just for the hell of it. As long as I remembered to take off the lens caps each time I turned on the camera it would be fairly easy to convince them that I was, at the least, an amateur professional.

After dinner was over I went to the bedroom closet and with the help of a pair of scissors I modified an old pair of Levi’s that had been hanging there for years. I started by cutting off the legs and then proceeded to rip them up the sides. I did it slowly and methodically, resisting the temptation to cut away too much too soon. Instead I inspected and re-inspected my shrinking masterpiece after each rip, cut and tear. When I was through, the rips up the side went almost to the belt line, the legs were cut off high enough so that the sides of the pockets hung out, and the strap between her legs was exactly that, a strap and nothing more. L’il Abner would have gladly lost the next Sadie Hawkins Day race if he seen Daisy May running after him wearing a pair like these. As an afterthought I went through the boxes of Helen’s old clothes and found the same white shirt she had worn to the bar that night. With the shirt (sans bra) and the newly created Daisy May’s (sans underwear) Karen would be dressed perfectly for what I had in mind. 

**********

After dinner I settled down in my easy chair to watch some TV. I was just getting involved in an old James Cagey movie on American Movie Classics when the phone rang. It was yet ANOTHER girl! Her name was Angel and, like Karen, she was enthusiastic. She agreed to both the nude video and the field trip and we finished the conversation by setting up an appointment for 2PM on Monday, four hours after Karen. 

I returned to the movie, but as I watched my mind kept wandering to thoughts of the two girls that were entrusting themselves (and their bodies) to me on Monday. Karen was only twenty, and Angel sounded about the same age. My sons were older than they were and I couldn’t help wondering what kind of lives they had led. If I had daughter what would I think if I found out that they had answered an advertisement similar to mine? Call me naïve, old fashioned, or simply protective, but I suddenly began feeling guilt and shame in doing what I was about to do. Would these two girls look at me as just another dirty old man and laugh at me behind my back, or would they simply accept me as their employer and keep everything business like and free from the sexual connotations that their nudity would certainly suggest? As long as they were both over eighteen there was nothing in the law that prohibited me from taking my video nor for them to be in it. They were old enough to legally fuck, suck, take it up the ass (as Molly described it), have cum shot on their faces and swallow it or any other sexual act that they were old enough, brave enough, poor enough, or depraved enough to perform. It was legal, yes, but was it moral? If I had a daughter, would I consider her ‘innocent’ if she were to work for a man like me who’s only intent was to see her naked and to take video of her showing off her body to others? 

It took me the rest of the evening to think it all through, but in the end I absolved myself. I talked myself into thinking that as long as the law considered them fair game, why shouldn’t I? Really, was I harming them in any way? Why should I be responsible for actions that they take of their own free will? I was providing the impetus, or course, but if they hadn’t been willing to begin with they would never have sought out my ad. Whether it was me or someone else, eventually they would succumb to temptation, and in the end the result would be the same. If I HAD a daughter, I thought, I wouldn’t want HER to do the things I wanted my model to do, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that a father can’t always protect their daughter, and if she were hell bent on letting it all hang out, then it was far better that they did it with me than someone else. Consciously or subconsciously a father must know what their precious little darling is up to during Spring Break, and what they would be doing with me would amount to the same thing but without all the fucking. I at least would have their best interests in mind and in the end I would be protecting them from the unscrupulous scoundrels that WOULD take advantage of them. Hell, if I was one of their father’s I might even consider giving a person like me an award of some kind! 

I went to bed early that night and before drifting off sleep I found myself masturbating. I never got hard, but it felt good anyway. 

************* 

The doorbell rang a few minutes after ten on Monday morning. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and then opened the door. In front of me stood a small girl, at most five foot two, and she had blonde hair that was swept to the side. She was wearing a thin, light blue skirt that hugged her hips on top and exposed quite a bit more than just her knees from below. Her white shirt wasn’t transparent, but the fabric was thinner than her skirt and a hint of her lightly tanned skin shown through. Her pink pointed nipples were prominently pressed against the material and the contrasts between the different colorations were more than noticeable. Instead of being buttoned like it was meant to be, the shirt was tied together using the shirttails, and the bare skin exposed by her open cleavage proved that not only had her breasts been manufactured in a lab somewhere but that she was satisfied with the result of the operation. Fake or not they looked inviting. She was a very beautiful girl. 

“You must be Karen,” I said as I opened the door and invited her in. “I’m Tom. You’re right on time,”

“Nice house,” she said as I led her to the couch. “I was surprised when I first drove up. I was expecting a studio or something. You live here?”

“I’ve owned the house for a long time. My wife died a little over a year ago. Now it’s just me.’ 

After watching her seat herself on the couch I turned on the video camera that I had placed on the table next to my easy chair the night before and then sat and faced her. The chair was directly across the room from the sofa and the morning sunlight poured through the plate glass window behind me and bathed the area she was seated with its golden rays. “I hope you don’t mind, but I want to tape this interview so that I can watch it later. It will help me decide between you and the other girls.”

“I don’t mind. You mentioned the tape yesterday when we talked on the phone so I was prepared. Just let me know what you want me to do.”

“I guess the best place for us to start is to learn a little bit about you,” I said. “How old are you?”

“I’m twenty, and I’ll be twenty-one in three weeks.”




Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 05



“Married? Boyfriend?”

“A boyfriend. His name is Ken and we met in school.”

I was jotting things down on a piece of paper to impress her, but in reality the paper would probably be thrown away after the interview was over. After scribbling down her last response I looked up from the paper and noticed she had crossed her legs. Her skirt was now riding much higher on her legs than before. I tried not to let it distract me as I asked, “And does Ken know that nudity is required for this shoot?”

“I told him the truth, if that’s what you mean. You were a little vague about the amount of nudity involved when we talked on the phone so I couldn’t go into real details with him, but I did show him your ad and he didn’t appear to be upset.”

“And did you tell him that I would be taking video of you nude this morning?”

“I did. He seemed cool with it.”

“Do you smoke? Drink? Use drugs?”

“Yes, yes, and it depends,” she said with a smile. “I drink in moderation and I smoke tobacco. Occasionally I’ll smoke a little marijuana, but I don’t really consider that a drug. I’m certainly not going to be smoking it while we’re working, if that’s a concern.”

“Why not?” It wasn’t a calculated response on my part, just an utterance made out of curiosity to her answer, but when I saw it had flustered her, I decided to keep her confused and slightly off base. Her answers to the questions about her boyfriend Ken had been almost instantaneous, almost as if they were scripted, and I wanted to see how she responded to questions that came at her from out in left field. I wanted somebody who was spontaneous, and what better way to measure that than through tough, unexpected questions?

“In the first place,” she said, “I don’t think it would be professional, and in the second place you don’t look like the kind of person who would be comfortable around someone who was smoking weed. Also you mentioned that some of the work we did would be outside and I wouldn’t want to be arrested for it.” 

“Good answer,” I said. I didn’t remind her that she might be arrested anyway, dope or no dope. If she was willing to show herself off in public the way I was hoping she would, that in itself might be grounds for legal action, but of course she didn’t need to know that yet. 

“Now, about your experience. Have you modeled before?”

“Some. When I was in high School I modeled for the Broadway Department Store chain for two years. They used me mainly on the runway when they had their fashion shows, but I also did some photo shoots for them and my pictures showed up in their catalogues a few times.”

“Have you ever been naked in front of a camera before?”

“I don’t have any hang ups about being nude, if that’s what you mean. Last year I posed nude for the art class in college. It was kind of boring but it kept me going financially.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant. I said ‘naked’, not ‘nude’. Being nude in front of an art class is a lot different than posing naked for a video. It’s all a matter of context. The one is sexual and the other isn’t. The question shouldn’t be ‘are you comfortable with your nudity?’ but rather ‘are you comfortable with your sexuality?’” Now I’ll ask the same question again. Have you ever been naked in front of a camera before?” 

She immediately averted her eyes and I thought that perhaps she was blushing.

“Well, Ken and I fooled around a little with his video camera right after he bought it, if that’s what you mean” 

I smiled back at her and said, “I guess that’s what I meant. What exactly did you do in front of the camera?” Her eyes looked away for a moment, a sure sign that I was getting her flustered, “Well, we got naked and took pictures of each other, things like that.”

“I’m assuming that ‘things like that’ indicate that there was perhaps a little more involved than just getting naked, right?” 

I could tell that my line of questioning was affecting her. It was definitely making her uncomfortable, but when she suddenly pulled her legs up from the floor and tucked them underneath her (giving me a more than quick glance at her bikini panties in the process) I concluded that it was getting her horny as well. After a failed attempt at modestly covering herself by rearranging her skirt she simply gave up and answered my question. I knew she could tell by the direction of my eyes that I was staring directly at the flimsy material covering her crotch but she made no further attempt at covering it.

“Well, I guess I might as well tell you,” she answered. “We also made love a few times to see what we looked like while we did it.” While she answered I purposely kept my eyes from moving away from where they were. I wanted her to know that I was gazing on her in a less than gentlemanly way. If she was truly comfortable sitting in front of me that way it would indicate one thing and if she attempted to close off my view it would indicate another. 

“Did you set the camera on a dresser or did you have someone film it for you?” 

She suddenly giggled and diverted her eyes downward once again.. “It was a chair,” she said, “not a dresser. The results weren’t nearly as good as we had hoped, so a few days later Ken asked me if it was alright to invite his friend over to act as a cameraman for us. At first I was shocked and a little angry with him for thinking I would do anything like that, but in the end he won. You know how guys can sometimes get girls to do things we don’t really want to do. He kept telling me that I wouldn’t be embarrassed if I just pretended that his friend was our chair.” 

“I know exactly what you mean. You mean that you didn’t like the idea of Ken’s friend watching you have sex, but he talked you into it by suggesting that if you pretended that his friend was only a chair it wouldn’t be so bad and you could have a really good video instead of something that looked amateurish. So, how many times did you pretend he was a chair?” 

“I can’t remember. Four, maybe five times”

I was about to say, ‘Did you always use the same chair?’ but I stopped myself (she might be the girl I would hire and I didn’t want to start off the relationship on the wrong foot!). Instead I asked, ”How long has it been since you did this?” She suddenly looked confused and unsure of how to answer. I was definitely in control of the conversation and I was enjoying the power that it gave me. I had passed point where she was giving canned answers. She was now into uncharted waters and I think she knew it.

“Last Friday.” It was almost as if she were confessing a major crime. 

“Last Friday? You mean the day before you called me?”

“Yes.” It was almost a whisper and I could hardly hear it. I wondered if perhaps I should drop this line of questioning and move on to something else. I got the impression that she was doing her best to walk the thin line between embarrassed by what she had done and being proud of her ability to overcome her fears. Now it was me that was into uncharted waters. One part of me didn’t want to embarrass her more than I already had, but the other part of me wanted to find out all that had happened. Not only was I a visual voyeur, but I was an audible one as well. It took me perhaps one tenth of a second to decide to continue.

“You said that at first you were shocked and angry and that he had to talk you into it, yet once you did it you did it again. Did he have to talk you into it the second time or did you begin to enjoy it?” Enjoy was the key word. If she confessed that she enjoyed it she would stand a better chance of my hiring her than if she were to admit that she had continued doing it just to keep her boyfriend happy. The girl I hired would need to keep me happy, of course, but it would be a Pyrrhic victory if she wasn’t happy herself. I wanted someone who was eager to do the work and not just willing. 

“The first time he taped us it was embarrassing and scary, but I got used to it. The second time was a lot less embarrassing than the first. It doesn’t bother me at all anymore, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say I enjoyed it. It still seems a little..uh..a little weird having someone take video of you fuc….” She stopped in middle of the word and looked at me anxiously. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…well, I almost said…well, sorry.” 

I suddenly remembered the moral argument I had debated with myself on Saturday night. The conclusion I had drawn then should be the conclusion I drew now. She was not a prim and proper girl nor did I want her to be. I wasn’t her guardian nor did I want to be. The looser and more comfortable she was in both language and demeanor the more I would feel free to do the same, so I smiled and said “It’s OK for you to use the word ‘fuck’. I use that word myself. I’m not hiring an angel; I’m hiring a nude model. Nothing you can say could offend me, so don’t give it a second thought.” 

“Thanks,” she said. “Being as old as you are I was afraid you’d be offended if I said that. What I was trying to say was that I got used to him being there and taping us. He was, after all, only a piece of furniture,”

The reference to my age pissed me off a little, but I suddenly realized that it wasn’t meant as an insult. It was more of a statement of fact and I quickly forgave her. It did, however, make me re-evaluate our relationship. I didn’t want her to see me as her father any more than I wanted to see her as my daughter (or perhaps worse, my granddaughter) so I made a quick decision to join her on her level rather than expect her to join me on mine. 

“That’s right, he was. What I want to know now is whether he was the only chair you used. Perhaps you and Ken got tired of the same old furniture and got a new chair. Did that that ever happen?”

“No.”

“Did Ken ask you to let him tape you fucking the chair?”

“Yes ” she said after a long pause. She was looking at me with a different eyes and I thought I had struck oil with that question and its answer. Being a man I knew how a man’s mind worked, and if Ken’s mind worked anything like mine that would have been his next logical step. 


I waited for her continue, but when I began to realize that ‘yes’ was all she was going to say I followed with “And?”

“And what? 

“And what did you do?”

“You really want to embarrass me, don’t you?”

“Do you embarrass easily?”

“No”

“Then why does my question bother you?”

“Because your ad said you weren’t going to be taking anything of a pornographic nature, that’s why. The question doesn’t bother me so much as it makes me wonder why you’re asking it. You’re not expecting me to do things like that are you?” 

“No, you’re right. Maybe I went top far in asking you all those personal questions, but I wanted to see how far you’ve gone in the past. There are a lot of steps involved in going from nude modeling in an art class to having your boyfriend taping you having sex with a human chair. Like I said, I was just interested in knowing how far you’ve gone. The tape I want to make will definitely be more sexual what you experienced in art class, but it won’t go so far as having sex with anyone. I just want to make sure that you’re willing to do the things I ask you to do, and I want to feel free in letting you know what I want without being embarrassed in asking. That’s all I really wanted to find out.” 

“We’ll never know unless find out,” she said with a slight grin on her face. “Should I take off my clothes now?”

*******

I discreetly left and went upstairs while she was disrobing. I wanted to retrieve the pair of shorts I had creatively altered and this break was as an opportune moment as any. The shirt Karen was wearing fit perfectly so Helen’s seemed redundant and I left it on the bed. I spent a quick moment in the bathroom and then hurried downstairs to view the naked pleasures that I was sure awaited me. As I reached the bottom stair and turned toward the front room, however, I noticed she was still fully dressed. 

“You’re still dressed,” I said. “Did you change your mind?” Suddenly I was worried that she was having seconds thoughts.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to get undressed here or not. Your drapes are wide open and I thought that you might want to tape me in one of the other rooms.”

“I left the drapes open so we could have as much light as possible. Does having them open present a problem?” I had intentionally left the drapes open not so much for the lighting as for the psychological implications. At night one can easily see into a well lit home with the occupants completely unaware they are being observed, and the same principle applies during the day, except from the opposite direction. While nude she could easily observe cars and pedestrians passing by with little or no chance that they would notice. I wanted to introduce her to the idea of being nude in public in a relatively safe environment before being specific as to what I would require if she were chosen to be my model. 

From where I stood I could see my neighbor from across the street as she knelt down in her flowerbed pulling weeds. Karen had been watching her as well and when she finally turned to face me again she said, “I guess not. I just waited to make sure that you knew that drapes were open and that people could see in.” She was glancing out the window at the neighbor as I picked up the video camera and pointed it at her. I positioned myself so I could capture her image with the open window in the background, hoping that the bright exterior lighting didn’t affect the quality of the shot. Taping her strip in front of the open window, despite the odds against her being observed, would certainly be enough to fuel my fantasies in the future if for some reason she wasn’t the one I selected. 

She faced my camera, her back to the window and began untying the knot that held her shirt together. Once it was off and she was topless she unceremoniously hooked her thumbs under the top band of her skirt and pulled it down. She was about to do the same with panties until I stopped her by saying. “Slide them down slowly. Play with them, tease me and the camera, show a little at a time, make it erotic.” Her breasts were bare and beautiful, the nipples begging to be touched. Whoever had done her surgery had created a masterpiece. I tried to be professional and not salacious as I sat back in my chair and observed her as she faced the camera and began to slowly lower the panties over her hips. She had them pulled down almost to her hairline when she stopped and then pulled them up again.

“That’s good,” I said, “The trick is to make it erotic. If you show everything at once there’s nothing left at the end but a naked girl. If you do it right, in the end you’ll be a naked goddess.”

Suddenly I saw a glimmer of understanding. She began pulling them down again, only this time she was doing it one side at a time, and when one side was down as low as possible without exposing anything but skin, she would laugh and then pull it up and repeat the process with the other side. 

“That’s good,” I said again. “Teasing is the answer. Now try some more. Let the camera caress your body a little at a time. Run your hands under the material and let the viewer imagine what it would be like to feel the secret places that your hands are touching. Caress yourself from inside your panties, play with the viewers mind, make him hot and horny, It’s OK to flash those secret places from time to time but only for a second or so. Always leave them wanting more.” 

I watched as she did everything I wanted her to do. She was learning fast and I enjoyed playing the part of director. It was amazing how quickly she got into the teasing game, and I wondered if she was really as inexperienced as I thought. Would she have been so quick at taking off her top and her shirt had she known I wanted her to tease?

Suddenly I saw her stop cold. She simply stood there silently for a moment and then said, “Oh, I shouldn’t be doing this. What are you going to say about me later?” I was about to respond when she added, “OK, I guess I can do that. Not all the way, of course, but enough to keep you excited.” She paused for yet another short moment and then continued on by saying, “OK, I guess I could do that.” It slowly dawned on me that she wasn’t talking to me. Instead she was talking to an imaginary voice, a soliloquy intend to give the impression that there was someone in the room with her, a someone who, like me, was giving her instructions. It was too bad that the camera had already recorded my voice, but I could surely duplicate the technique in a future shoot. 

She turned, and with her back to the camera, she looked over her shoulder and said, “You can look but you can’t touch.” Saying that she bent forward and slowly pulled her panties down. She pulled them half way down her ass before giggling and then pulling them up again. Teasing, like eroticism, resides in the mind and I’m sure that others would have preferred she take them off completely at this point, but for me it was more than enough. 

Finished showing her ass, she stood up straight and once again turned and faced the camera. “I said no, remember?” She was now back to the one-way conversation she was having with her imaginary ‘friend.’ “No, I couldn’t. (Pause) “No” (Pause) “Really?” (Pause) “Promise?” (Pause) “OK, but only for a second.” She paused again and a second later she pulled her panties down to her knees. Almost instantaneously she pulled them up again, feigning embarrassment by covering her eyes and shaking her head from side to side. From start to finish she had exposed her pubic area for only a second, but it was long enough for me to notice that it was perfectly shaved along the sides and the hair that remained was trimmed short. It also revealed that she was not a true blonde.

“I hope you’ll never tell anybody I did that” (Pause) “You wouldn’t” (Pause) “Please don’t tell anybody. Please” (Pause)

“No one has ever seen me do that before” (Pause) “Please don’t make me.” She paused again, and then, with great acting ability, she delved into her panties and covered herself with one hand while she began tugging them off with the other. Trying desperately to conceal her muff from the imaginary eyes of her invisible friend she lowered them all the way and stepped out of them. 

“Take your hand away so I can see you all of you,” I said in a loud voice. As soon as I spoke the words I regretted them. There was a quick change in her expression and I was afraid that I had either frightened her or made her angry, but it turned out to be simply a reaction to the intensity in which I had said it. She quickly realized that I was only speaking in the voice of the unseen character she had created and once that realization was made she fell back into the persona of the luckless girl who was being ‘forced’ into exposing herself and was now, or so it seemed, being threatened if she didn’t continue Almost trembling she shyly dropped her hand and let the man (the camera? me?) gaze directly at the object of his (our?) attention. 

I slowly zoomed in until the viewfinder was showing nothing but pubic hair and the wet crevice it covered. Then I shut it off. 

*********** 

“That was incredible,” I said. “Where did you ever come up with that idea?” 

“It was your idea. You told me make it slow and to tease you, so I decided to make a little drama out of it. I hope that my talking to the camera didn’t ruin anything.”

“No, not at all. In fact, it was inspired. Where did you ever come up with the idea of someone making you do it come from?”

“You’d laugh if I told you.”

“No I wouldn’t. Why would I laugh?”

“Maybe not laugh, but at least thing you’d think less of me.”

“Huh?”

“It’s embarrassing. Not only that, it’s private.”

“You’re standing naked in front me complete naked. Isn’t that embarrassing? As far as privacy goes you’ve already told me about having sex with a chair. Is it any more private than that? 




Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 05



“Thoughts,” she said. “Thoughts can sometimes be more private.”

Suddenly things started to make sense. “You mean fantasies?”

I noticed that she turned her eyes away. In as soft voice she said, “Yes, fantasies.” 

In as soft a voice as hers I repeated, “Yes, fantasies.” I KNEW where she was coming from. If pain and pleasure were mapped out on a bell shaped curve, a fantasy could easily be plotted on either end. Kept secret it can be the source of extreme mental pleasure, but once exposed to the world it can become a dent in the armor, a soft spot that enemies could attack with impunity. Whether it was called a fantasy or a perversion or a preference or a predilection made no difference. What mattered was that it set us apart from others, made us different, made us examine our psyche, and made us wonder not only why we were the way we were, but why others weren’t. Because of my own fantasies I had always been open minded about the fantasies of others and now, I thought, was the perfect opportunity to prove my mettle. 

I thought about Ellie and her fascination with exhibitionism. That was her fantasy and she had been just as guarded as Karen. We all live behind masks, I thought, and we all suffer from it. How much freer we are when we drop the mask and admit our kinks, and our shortcomings and our desires. How many regrets are needed for us to understand that it’s the naked person, the person that had nothing to hide, the person who will strip off everything – clothing, fantasies, faces – and proclaim loudly ‘This is me. This is who I am. Take me as I am or leave me alone,’ that cannot really be hurt? Ellie had come closer to that ideal than anyone I have ever known, yet even she indulged in a little hypocrisy. Her virtue was that she always practiced what she preached; her sin was that she always denied she was a preacher.

I didn’t want to bring up the subject of Ellie (despite my thoughts how people should act I was afraid it would hit to close to home) so I concocted a lie and said “There was a girl that lived down the street from my mother’s house when I was growing up and we were in the same class in school. We were about nine or ten at the time and every day we would walk home together. We could have walked along the pavement like the other kids but we got in the habit of saving time by using a shortcut through an empty field. There was a market and a gas station and a road nearby so we were always in view of others and there was never any danger. Anyway, we were walking together one day when she said “excuse me, but I need to pee” and with that she pulled down her panties and then squatted down over some weeds and let it go. I had no other option than to just stand there and watch. I never really saw anything except the yellow stream that poured out of her and the wet puddle that she made in the dirt, but I was still excited by the casualness in which she did it. Ever since then I’ve had this fantasy of seeing girls…women, actually…exposing themselves like that” 

“You have a fantasy about watching women pee?” she asked.

“No, no, no. You got it wrong. It wasn’t the peeing part that I got addicted to, it was the complete lack of modesty she had. I only told you about this so you’d feel free to tell me about YOUR fantasy.” 

“I guess I don’t care if you know. Right now you’re just a stranger that I might never see again and if you hire me I’m sure it would come out sooner or later anyway. My fantasy is about force and punishment. I feel silly making such a big issue of it, but it’s humiliating. It doesn’t make any sense if you look at it logically. I mean who wants to be forced and punished? I don’t know why it turns me on so much, but it does. I was embarrassed about taking my clothes with the drapes open, so when you suggested I make it erotic I thought the easiest way was to make myself feel erotic first. There are a lot of things I can do when I’m horny that I wouldn’t normally do. You know what I mean?”

I skipped over answering her question and instead started fishing for insight on her fantasy. “Were you using that fantasy when you pretended that Ken’s friend was a chair?” 

“No, that was entirely Ken’s idea, not mine. If my fantasy was involved at all in the making of those tapes it had to deal with Ken and me, not his friend. When he first suggested it I was totally against it, but we argued. When he brought it up again I decided that I’d rather do it than go through another fight so I pretended he was forcing me to do it. The forcing part made me horny and it was the horny part that allowed me to do it. In the back of my mind I kept thinking of the wonderful punishment Ken would inflict on me once he saw how nasty I could be.” Suddenly embarrassed she hung her head down and looked at me with timid eyes. “I know that sounds crazy, but that’s how it was.”. 

“Are you into pain? Has Ken ever beaten you?”

She turned again around so I could see her nude body from every angle. “Do you see any scars or welts? I wonder what it would be like, of course, but I’m not brave enough yet to actually experience it. The most Ken’s done to me so far is to whack me on the ass with a ping-pong paddle on my birthday. It stung for fifteen or twenty minutes and it hurt like hell, but it was well worth it. After he was finished spanking me he tied me down on the bed before fucking me and it was the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had.” 

Despite my promise to be more open minded, the casual way she used the word ‘fuck’ still made me cringe. I never really thought of myself as a chauvinist, but to hear that word pass from the lips of a twenty-year-old ‘girl’ still had the power to surprise me. Once again I chided myself for my Puritanism and decided that never again would I allow my inherent modesty to bother me. 

“You have a beautiful body, Karen, but it’s time for you to get dressed again.” I picked the cutoffs off the floor and handed them to her. “Put these on instead of your skirt. I want to see how you look in them. Then, if you’re comfortable, I’d like to take you on a short ride and have you perform a short task. Once you’ve completed that I’ll give you the $100 I promised.”

There was a large mirror hanging on the wall on the far side of the room and when she had finished dressing she walked toward it. She looked at the image that was reflected back and saw how exposed she really was. I hadn’t given much thought to the discrepancy between our body sizes, and what had once fit me was way too loose for her slender frame. The strap that went between her legs didn’t quite touch her body, and the shorts hung low on her hips and were threatening to fall off. From where I was standing I could almost see the lips of her pussy peeking from under the loosely stretched material. It was certainly more daring than I had expected, but if she was still willing to accompany me on our outing I was willing to let her. 

“Feel free to move around,” I said. “Stretch your arms over your head, bend over and shake your body, lie down on the floor and wiggle around a little, do anything and everything you can think of that would exaggerate your normal movements. I want you to notice how you look in those bottoms and imagine how you would look to others.” 

Not turning to face me, she instead looked into my eyes through the mirror’s reflection. “I don’t need to move,” she said. “I can see everything I need to see as I am.” Her eyes returned to the image in the mirror as she continued. “I suppose that the field trip you mentioned includes me parading around in public like this.” It wasn’t a question so much as it was a statement. She knew my fantasy and she could see how she was dressed. There was no longer a reason for me not to be forthcoming about the nature of what I wanted.

“I thought you’d come to that conclusion after I told you about my fantasy,” I said it with a sense of relief. “Let me just add a few things first and then we’ll go. To begin with I’m not going to be taking the camera with me. This trip is intended to be a short introduction to what I’ll be looking for over the course of your employment. If I hire you our taping will be much the same, only with different locations, different situation and different clothes. The amount of nudity required will vary from day to day and will be based on my judgment and your comfort factor. In short, the next few weeks will be all about showing off your beautiful body whenever, wherever, and however we can manage to do it. You can forget all about the questions I asked you about the tapes you made with your boyfriend since they don’t really matter. You will not be asked to have sex with anyone. There will be nothing that would be considered X rated. To me exhibiting one’s body in an erotic way is a form of art. For the most part it won’t be much more explicit than what I have planned for today. Do you understand everything so far?”

She turned and looked at herself in the mirror again. The loose shorts had shifted while we talked and the strap was pulled to the side. Her entire pussy was visible, lips and all. She readjusted herself to modestly cover what was exposed and then said, “These jeans are so loose I’ll have to hold them up when I walk, and even then I’ll have to be careful not to show too much. Do you REALLY expect me to go out in public like this?” 

“No, not really. I want you to go on public like this.” I untied the knot that held her shirt closed and then retied it so it was much looser. The knot was now nothing more than decoration. It held the shirt together but did precious little in keeping her covered. There was now a straight line of exposed skin from her neck to the top of her Levi’s, and the entire swell of her breasts were uncovered. The nipples themselves were covered for now, but it would be near impossible for her to keep them that way. 

She turned and studied herself in the mirror again, only this time she was concentrating more on the upper part of her body. She had spent a lot of money on her boobs and I surmised that had to be proud of them. The shorts had shifted again, and while not as off center as before they were still skewed enough so I could plainly see the patch of hair that she hadn’t shaved. My reasoning had been correct. She was now so intent of studying her barely concealed breasts that she was no longer paid attention to the other parts of her body. 

“Can you tell me where we’re going?” she said when she finally finished her exercise in narcissism. 

“Certainly. I’m taking you to an adult bookstore. I’m going to give you some money and I want you to spend at least fifteen minutes in the store looking at the merchandise. When the time is up I want you to make a purchase and then return to the car”

“I’ve never been in an adult bookstore before.”

“It’s as good a place to start as any,” I told her. “At least there no one is going to object to the way you’re dressed. Are you ready?”

She was slow in answering and I was afraid for a second that she was going to decline, but finally I could see a look of resolve cross her face and she said, “Sure. Why not?”

As we walked to the door I was beside her and her nipples were noticeably visible. I was pretty sure that she would pop out completely at least once while she was in the store. 

**************

It took us about ten minutes to reach the bookstore. It was funny watching the way she scrunched down in the seat with her arms crossed over her chest and her legs pressed tightly together. It was apparent to me that she was far more nervous than she pretended to be.

“We’re here,” I said as I pulled into the rear parking lot and turned off the motor. There were three cars already parked there and out of consideration for her obvious discomfort I took closest space possible.

l

“It looks tacky,” she said as she studied the place. 

“It looks classier from the front, but I thought you might be more comfortable here. In the front you would have to contend with pedestrians and cars driving by. Here you have a little more privacy.”

“Do we have to go here? Isn’t there someplace else?”

“I suppose. There’s a mall not too far from here. How about Bullocks or the Broadway?”

I heard her groan. “I guess you’re right. I suppose this is as good as it gets. Shit! What did I get myself into?”

“You’ve made it this far, you might as well go through with it. If nothing else it will mean being paid $100 for your interview. Besides, it will be a memory you’ll have for ever.” 

“Have you been here before? What should I expect?”

“Yes, I’ve been here before,” I replied, “ and what you’ll find beyond that door is a small hallway that leads into the store. There are racks of adult books and magazines on three walls and in the middle of the store are various displays of adult toys, sexy lingerie, fetish paraphernalia, gimmicks such as massage oils, herbal vitamins, pseudo aphrodisiacs, and of course prophylactics. At the far end, where the main door is, there is a cashier who faces the inside of the store. It’s usually a man, but I did see a young girl about your age there once. To the right of the cashier is a curtained door that leads to a row of Video booths that show pornographic movies if you put in the right amount of coins. If I were you I would stay out of there since it’s fairly dark and you never know who you might run into.”

I lit a cigarette and then handed her fifty dollars. “Buy what you want. That’s NOT a part of the $100 and whatever you don’t spend you can keep, OK?”

I inhaled deeply and then just watched her as I blew out the smoke. When she realized that I was through talking she tentatively opened the door and stepped out into the sunshine. With the car no longer protecting her from view I thought she would hurry to the door. Instead she stood waiting for me to join her. “You ARE coming with me, aren’t you?” she finally said.

“Me?” I said as I took another puff on my Marlboro. “No, I’m not going to go with you. I’m going to have a few more cigarettes and time you, but don’t worry. I promise to be here when you get back.”

“Oh, shit!” was all she could manage to say as she quickly looked around and then headed for the door holding her shorts up with both hands.

“Remember, fifteen minutes.” I then watched her trim little ass walk away. I had to smile as I noticed that the strap between her legs was hanging to one side again and even from this distance I could see the crack of her ass. 

***********

She was stayed inside longer than I expected. I assumed she would be back to the car after ten minutes or so, which I would have accepted, but almost twenty minutes had past and still no sign of her. I lit my fourth cigarette and told myself that I would check on her if she hadn’t come out by the time I was finished. I had only taken a few puffs when I saw the door open. She no longer was hurrying. She walked casually toward the car, looking over her shoulder twice in the process. In her hand she was carrying three or four magazines and a paper bag that I assumed contained a souvenir of her visit. 

“You were in there a long time,” I said as she opened the door and got in. “As hesitant as you were I expected you out in about ten minutes. What took you so long?”

“Oh, man,” she said excitedly, “What a fucking rush! I got so much adrenaline running through my body right now I can hardly stand it. I had no idea what all went on in a place like that. You should see all the stuff in there. And these magazines, they’re, well, they’re….”

Yeah, I know, they were…well, they just were…

She had taken the time between sentences to bite through the cellophane cover over one of the magazines and was busy flipping through the pages as she talked. She stopped on one of the pages and showed me a full color picture of a girl being fucked in the ass while still sucking on an extremely engorged penis. I say ‘still’ because there was a large gob of cum dripping down her cheek and it was obvious that he had shot his wad on her face to enhance the eroticism of the photo and she was simply cleaning him off. 

“You’re not going to make me do anything like THIS are you?” Her face was contorted into a smile/frown contadiction.

“Nothing even close,” I said.” I’m a little more conservative than that.” I was looking straight at her when I said it and I noticed a sudden change in her expression. It couldn’t tell if it indicated pleasure or disappointment.

“You can’t BELIEVE what happened to me in there. As I was looking through the magazines on the rack I saw one that interested me on the bottom shelf so I bent over to pick it up. I forgot what I was wearing until I heard a loud voice behind me say “Nice ass, lady!” I was so fucking surprised that I stood up suddenly and both of my tits fell out. I made the mistake of using both hands to scoop them in again and my shorts slipped down. There were six guys in there and they saw everything. I could have died of shame.”

“Yes, but you didn’t. Instead of thinking about your embarrassment, think of the enjoyment you gave them. They’ll probably remember it for the rest of their lives.”

********** 

As we left the parking lot and began the drive back to the house, I noticed that she was no longer scrunched down in the seat. Her legs were spread further apart than they had been before and the lips of her pink pussy were parted right down the middle by the thin strap that was meant to cover them. The pointed nipple of her artificial right breast stuck out of the shirt completely and she was making absolutely no attempt at correcting the situation. Passing cars probably could not observe the nudity that she was offering my eyes, but the fact that she was unconcerned was a definite plus in her favor.

Her nipple was still on display when I drove into my driveway. At that point I was certain she would tuck it back in, but as bold as brass she got out of the car and walked brazenly up the brick pathway that led to the front door I really didn’t give a shit what my neighbors thought, but I did care about was going on in Karen’s mind. Was she unaware of her disarray or had her experience at the bookstore convinced her she could get away with it? She stayed that way while I fumbled with the house keys, but when I finally got the door unlocked she entered before me. I couldn’t help but notice that she still had a strong grip on the magazines she had purchased as well as the mystery bag.

Once we were inside and the door was closed she said, “So, how was I? I did what you wanted me to do. I really didn’t want to do it in the beginning, but it really wasn’t that bad. It was certainly scary though. See how hard my heart is pounding?” She grabbed my hand and placed against her breast. God, it was hard! I never had felt an artificial tit before, but it felt exactly like I had imagined it would. Regardless of their perfection I couldn’t imagine myself playing with them for any long period of time. Their artificiality didn’t offend me but they did nothing to turn me on either. It was obvious that she was inviting me to do more than just feel her heart beating, so to keep her happy I tweaked her nipple a little and squeezed it gently. She cooed softly.

“Can I take these things off now?” she asked. Before I had a chance to answer she wiggled her hips and the shorts fell and puddle up around her feet. She pulled one foot out of them and then with the other kicked them high in the air and sent them flying across the room. “May I use your restroom for a minute?” she asked. 

I told her where it was and as she walked away my mind filled with erotic longing for her. Nudity and eroticism are as much psychological as sexual, and to see her like this was perhaps most erotic thing she had done so far. Watching her walk across the room completely bottomless while still wearing her white shirt was far more personal than total nudity would have been. It seemed somehow more intimate and more familiar. Definitely more erotic.




Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 06



It’s been awhile since I’ve added to this story, but I haven’t been idle.  This is chapter six and I have chapters 7-10 completed.  With the exception of some minor changes in wording, they are ready for posting.

In the chapter you are about to read Tom meets Angel, the title character, for the first time.  For those of you who have not been following the story (or perhaps forgotten it?) this is the perfect opportunity for you to catch up.  Chapters 1 through 5 contain background information on Tom (the “I” in the story) and it is suggested that you read them since this and future chapters contain references to past events.  It will also give you insights into the formation of Tom’s somewhat contradictory character traits and confused philosophy of life.  For those of you who elect not to read them I have synopsized the chapters so you will at least be aware of the basics.       

Chapter 1begins with a short introduction in which Tom describes as his ‘kink’  What turns him on sexually is watching women, especially  exhibitionists who enjoy showing themselves off in front of strangers.  He never stoops to the level of illegality – no peeping, no two-way mirrors installed in his house, no loitering near dressing rooms hoping to catch a glimpse of someone changing their clothes, -  but he certainly enjoys watching when it happens,   The story itself begins with the circumstances birth, his childhood, and his short relationship with Ellie, a plain and overweight girl who he meets in college.  Despite her physical appearance she is extremely sexual and exhibitionistic. it is with her that Tom loses his virginity and discovers  his ‘kinkiness.’

Chapter 2 begins by telling the reader how Tom built his business and met his wife Helen.  One night while he is driving home from work he stops at Terry’s Tavern, a drinking hole to which he is unfamiliar.  He is about ready to leave when he notices a couple at the far end of the bar.  She is wearing a very short skirt and her partner is rubbing her upper leg. He decides on having one more beer while he watches them and he is rewarded for his patience.  An ‘audience’ is what they have apparently been waiting for and they take full advantage of Tom’s presence and give him the show of his life.  He begins obsessing about them and begins stopping at the bar almost every night on his way home from work hoping he will see them again.  At first Helen accepts the explanation that his increased tardiness is caused by work, but when she finds a stash of pornographic magazines hidden in the basement she puts two and two together and  concludes that Tom is having an affair.  He’s not, of course, but she angrily confronts him and they argue. The argument ends when Tom convinces Helen that he is innocent of adultery, but he does admit to enjoying pornography.  He enjoys it, he says, because it is something he can fantasize about.  He likes his sex ‘dirty’ and she likes hers ‘romantic’, he tells her, and as the chapter ends she is crying.  

Chapters 3 and 4 deal with the aftermath of the argument.  He convinces Helen that if they both try to please each other their sex life can be better.  She agrees.  Tom goes to mall and buys her some very erotic clothes and convinces her to wear them while he takes her bar-hopping. Her agenda is to loosen up and have some fun while his is to experience what his fantasy couple had experienced the night he had watched them.  Helen is conservative by nature, but as the afternoon turns into evening and as the drinks begin to pile up she lets herself go completely.  Thinking that she pleasing Tom, she flashes passing cars as she drunkenly walks down the sidewalk, dances naked on a pool table, and gives a blow job not only to Tom but two strangers as well.  When they leave the bar she walks naked down the darkened street for two blocks before reaching their parking spot and then fucks Tom on the asphalt outside their car with the bright lights overhead making them visible to whoever might pass by.

Chapter 5 begins with Tom telling what happened the morning after the infamous night at the bar with Helen.  She is filled with remorse over what she has done, and she blames Tom for allowing it to happen.  She tells him she will never have sex with him again, and she never does.  At first he satisfies himself with masturbation but as the years pass he finds it harder and harder to achieve an erection. More time passes.  Helen dies of lung cancer and Tom develops emphysema. Now, impotent and facing his own mortality, he tries to reach out and seize life.  He’s rich enough to be able to afford it, so he places an advertisement in the newspaper for the purpose of hiring a model.  The model he selects  will receive $500 per day for 20 days.  Since he’s ‘impotent’ she is not required to have sex with him, but instead assume the role of an exhibitionist as he takes video tape of her.  He wants to see her exposing herself at beaches, mountains, lakes, bars, stores, anywhere and everywhere there are men like him who enjoy watching such behavior.  He’s looking for a model that would not only be ‘willing’ to wear the short, sheer, tiny, outrageous clothing he has in mind, but one who ‘enjoys’ wearing them. In short, he wants not just a model, but a co-conspirator as well.  The chapter ends after his interview with Karen, the first of the two models he has scheduled for an interview.  Angel is the second and as Chapter 6 begins he is waiting for her to arrive. 

The story is completely fictional.  Only the names have been changed to protect the guilty.

**********

When I first decided to hire a model I really didn’t know what to expect.  The first two girls that responded I only talked to on the phone but I got nowhere.  I would have hired the first girl I spoke with, but since her salary demands were so far out of the reach of my budget it proved impossible.  When I mentioned the salary of $300 she laughed and informed me that she had ‘starred’ in ‘adult’ movies and had received $1000 per day!  We negotiated, of course, but in the end we were still far apart.  My final offer was for $500 per day with a guarantee of twenty days work and hers was for $750 per day as long as she didn’t have to ‘take it up the ass.’  For her to drop her rate by $250 per day ($5000 for the entire shoot!) made me think that perhaps she wasn’t all that fond of anal intercourse, and for me to raise my rate to $500 per day was out of the question.

The second girl I talked to was so strange that I eliminated her long before our (her) conversation ended.  We were on the phone for five minutes before I said anything more than hello.  She never shut up long enough for me to interrupt.  She took pride in her ‘nastiness’, which was fine by me, but when she bragged about fucking a midget she had met one evening at a Bingo Parlor I suddenly realized that her ‘nastiness’ was perhaps a little too nasty for me to tolerate.  I’m certainly not opposed to fucking midgets, you understand, but to fuck them BECAUSE they’re midgets somehow seemed to cross the line.  All my life I’ve been against exploitation and discrimination and this certainly seemed like one or the other.

I was luckier with the next two girls who responded.  I had good conversations with them both and both accepted my invitation to an interview.  Karen was the first scheduled and she passed all the requirements I had set.  She had taken off her clothes without hesitation when it came time for her to do so and she’d worn the ‘close-to-illegal’ clothing that I had selected for her to wear for our trip to the adult bookstore.  I still had a few minor misgivings about her, but all in all she was acceptable to me.

Angel was the second girl that would interview with me and I had already made up my mind that I with make my selection between the two of them.  I was itching to get started and I didn’t want to say no to both only to find that no one else applied.  The only fair way to compare the two, as I saw it, was to have them do the exact same things.  I would ask Angel to wear the same peek-a-boo Daisy-Mae’s that Karen had worn and I would take her to the same bookstore.  Whichever one ever made the best impression on me based on the taped interview and the trip to the bookstore would have the job.  Hopefully I could get started the following day.

**********

Tardiness on the part of others has always made me anxious.  If I have an appointment  somewhere I try leaving my point of departure long before necessary, and over the years have accumulated literally days and days of time idly spent sitting in my car thinking,  planning, or just relaxing by listening to soothing music on the radio.  Sometimes there is quiet bar near my rendezvous where I can have a cool drink with nothing to say, no one to say it to, and no one but strangers to hear me if I suddenly began talking to myself.  Over the years I have accumulated days and days of what others would call wasted time, but to me it’s cathartic. I think it’s made me a better man.  I don’t expect others to appreciate wasted time the way I do, of course, but if they did the world would surely be a better place.  Being early is blissful and relaxing, but being late is frustrating, especially for the one that’s waiting.      

Angel was late, and I was waiting.  Despite my displeasure, however, I was also relieved.  There was something missing, something that I had forgotten. I couldn’t think what it was, but given time I would remember, and her tardiness was giving me that time.   

Things that lie just below the surface of consciousness – names, titles, even faces – can sometimes be brought to mind by starting with the letter A followed by B and then C and so on through the entire alphabet. Somewhere along the line the name will appear or it will trigger something else and I’ll come up with the answer.  If I forget someone’s first name, for example, I think Aaron, Able, Abner, Aiden, Alfonse, Alfonso, Allen, Andrew, etc. When I finish the A’s I’ll begin the B’s.  There’s names I skip over, obviously, and it doesn’t always work, but I will usually find remember the name searching for before I reach the Z’s.  

Applying this exercise to a list of unknowns is a little more complicated than names (there’s too many variables) but I was using it anyway.  A equals access, albums, amenities, antiques (Me, of course, but I didn’t count it), apples, arrival (no, she was already late), assumptions (God, I hope she’s not a pig!), attention, audience (no, not yet anyway), audition.  I stopped and thought about the last one for a moment and then I dismissed it and began with the B’s.  B’s equal babies, barrooms, bathrooms (I’d hate to have her find one of my unflushed turds floating in the toilet bowl if she needed to use the restroom), bedroom (I doubted she would see it), beneath, benefits, (I already had planned for that one), between, beverage (Had I remembered to refrigerate the wine?).  Before starting the letter C checked both bathrooms for turds and then the refrigerator where I discovered the three chilled bottles of wine I had placed there the night before.  I returned to the living room already engaged in the letter C.

I was perhaps half way through the letter E when the doorbell rang.  It was fifteen after two and I still hadn’t remembered what it was that I had forgotten.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” were the first words she said as I opened the door.  “You ARE Tom, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, and you must be Angel.  Come on in.”

“I wrote down the address as Liston Road but I didn’t remember if it was north or south.  I drove by earlier but when I saw it was a house I kept driving and stopped at South Liston first.  I expected to find some kind of a studio or something.”  

“Well, at least it didn’t take you too far out of the way.  This is only the 200 block,” I replied.

Her face broke into a smile and then she started to laugh.  It was a lilting, wonderful, full of life laugh and I was soon to find out that it was one of her most endearing qualities.  I hadn’t realized I’d said anything funny until she laughed, but once I did I started laughing along with her as I escorted into the living room.

She was nothing like I’d expected.  In talking to her on the phone I was expecting someone younger and more like Karen.  Instead, she was older and her appearance was radically different.  If Karen were to stand on the Complete Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary she would still be a page or two short of reaching Angel’s height.  While Karen had been dressed provocatively, Angel was hidden under a lumpy lightweight sweater that hugged her body like a tent.  She was covered completely from the waist down by baggy sweatpants that were as large and loose as her sweater.  The only concession she had made to nudity was that she was barefoot and wasn’t wearing a veil.  Her faced was finely chiseled and her nose was slightly humped as if it had been broken sometime in the past.  Though her loosely hanging sweater gave no confirmation, I assumed that unlike Karen’s her breasts were real since had she the funds she would surely have chosen to repair her nose before her tits.  A subdued shade of lightly applied lipstick and a few strokes of eyebrow pencil was all she indulged herself in the way of makeup.  As for body adornment there was only a silver anklet and a red ribbon wrapped around the knot of a golden-haired ponytail that fell half way to her waist. The only fragrance I could detect was the smell of soap and shampoo. She smelled clean and natural and wholesome, and for a person like me – a person who would gladly pay a car wash NOT to dangle air freshener from my rear view mirror – that was enough.

“Come on in and have a seat,’ I said as I led her to the bottom of the stairs and then pointed to the couch in the living room.  “Make yourself comfortable.  I’ll be with you in just a few seconds.”  No, I hadn’t remembered what I had forgotten, but I did remember that while searching for the possible turds I had needed to urinate and hadn’t.  Doing it now would eliminate the need for breaking into the interview.

It wasn’t until I had returned and taken my seat on the easy chair facing the couch that I suddenly remembered what I had forgotten.  Angel was sitting on the sofa across from me and she was flipping through the pages of one of the magazines that Karen had purchased from the book store.  The title “Cum Sluts on Parade” was emblazoned on the cover in large red letters.

I was embarrassed but I bravely pretended not to notice.  I turned on the video camera saying, “If you don’t mind I’d like to videotape the interview.  It gives me something to refer to when I make my final decision.  You don’t mind, do you?”  It was the same line that I had used with Karen and I saw no reason to change it.

“Not a bit.  That’s what I’m her for, isn’t it?  You’re hiring somebody to be video taped aren’t you?”

“Uh, yeah, right.  What I meant was the interview.  You haven’t been hired yet, so I just want to make sure that you were OK by being taped now.  That’s what I meant.”  I was beginning to feel like an ass and I mentally kicked myself for failing to associate the letter C with cum.  Had I done so I would have been reminded of the magazine..

“Feel free to tape away.  That’s why I’m here,” she said.

I looked through the viewfinder to make sure it was positioned right and that everything was in focus.  It was.  It was so in focus that I could clearly see that her eyes had been diverted back to the magazine. Afraid to immediately look up from the viewfinder I watched her image as she slowly turned each page and was studying, or so it seemed to me, each and every photograph.

Finally I had no other option than to face her and begin the interview.  “So tell me a little bit about yourself,” I said.  “Have you had much modeling experience?”

“Enough to tell the difference between what good quality work is and isn’t.  Look at this photograph for example.”  She rose from the couch and approached me with the open magazine.  “Notice how his cum has hit her just below the eye and it’s dribbled down the side of her nose and onto her lip?  See how her tongue is sticking out?  It’s already covered with cum, yet she’s smiling and trying to reach even more.  It’s as if she’s powerless to resist her hunger and you can read volumes into that.  It’s a real classic.” She closed the magazine and returned to the couch saying, “Overall I’d rate the magazine a B-.  It’s good as masturbating material but most of the photos lack real artistic merit.”

If an earthquake were to occur at this point I wouldn’t have minded.  If the truth be told, I would have been happy.  A fire, a flood, an atomic bomb detonation, it didn’t matter as long as it diverted attention away from that fucking magazine!  Unfortunately no fire, no flood, no explosions occurred and I was forced to finally say something.

“I think I can explain why the magazine was there,” I offered in way of an explanation.  “Karen, the girl I interviewed earlier, left it here.  It’s her magazine, not mine.”

“Really?  Which page is she on?  I like to check out my competition.”

“Oh, she’s not in the magazine.  She brought it with her and forgot to take it home.”

“That seems a little strange.  The ad you placed in the paper said that this was supposed to be non-pornographic. Why would someone bring a magazine like this to an interview unless she wanted to show you some of her work?  That makes no sense.”

Could this get any worse?  I prayed ‘Please, God, please.  Give me a heart attack, a stroke, a sudden case of fast moving cancer, SOMETHING!  I have to get OUT of this mess.’

Maybe there’s a God after all, I thought, or perhaps Angel had sensed my discomfort and decided to back off, but in either case she suddenly tossed the magazine aside.  “Getting back to your question, yes, I’ve had quite a bit of experience.  About half of it was for Department Stores catalogues but the rest was for the skin trade.  Most of that was just T and A.  I was never well known, but my agent did get me a photo shoot for Playboy.  It would have been great to be the Playmate of the Month, but after the shoot they never called back.  I also appear in a few soft-core movies to help pay the rent, but the sex scenes were all simulated.  They were all small parts but it wasn’t it that bad and the money was good..  The most explicit thing I’ve ever done was the time my agent got me a photo shoot with Hustler magazine.  It ended up as a four page spread of me, a girl named Heather and a guy that must have had the world’s biggest cock.  If you take the raunchiest pornography you can imagine and then take away the insertions and the mouth to genital shots then you can imagine what it was like.  There was one photo they ran – the most explicit – where I was positioned on my knees and holding that monster in one hand.  My mouth was open and my tongue was less than an inch from touching its head.  My body was twisted sideways so you could see that my hand was between my legs and I was spreading my lips open for the camera.  Heather was beneath me and my ass was right above her mouth. Like me she had her tongue was out and it appeared as if she was getting ready to lick my asshole.  When the issue came out I bought some copies and when I saw what I looked like I was actually ill.  My friends laughed at me for a long time, but I certainly got paid a lot.  I made $1000 for a four hour shoot, and when the pictures were published I got another $2000.   I don’t think I’d do it again though.”  She paused for a second and then, smiling, added, “Unless I was really hard up for money or wore a wig to disguise my identity.”

I gulped once and then just stared at her for a moment before I managed to say anything.  My mouth was dry when I heard her give the amount of money she had earned and I was suddenly afraid that my offer of $500 a day wouldn’t be enough.  I didn’t want her to laugh at me like the girl who didn’t like it ‘up her ass’, but I was resolved not to go higher.  




Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 06



“I guarantee that this shoot won’t be anything like that,” I said once I could speak the words without tripping over my tongue.  “I’m only hiring one model so it will only be me, the girl I choose, and the camera.  I would say that the explicitness level might fall somewhere between Playboy and Penthouse on a few occasions, but the majority of it will simply be T and A.”  I wasn’t positive I knew what T and A stood for, but my assumption that it stood for tits and ass must have been correct since she didn’t say anything and she didn’t laugh.  I was tempted to divulge the nature of my ‘kink’ and get it out of the way there and then, but I decided to wait until after I had seen her naked.  It’s one thing to pose for a photographer in the privacy of a home or a studio and quite another to pose on city streets and public beaches and I didn’t want to kill the golden goose before seeing its egg, if you know what I mean.

I debated for a few seconds on what question to ask next and then baldy said “Would you mind disrobing now?”

“Actually I was looking forward to it,” she answered.  She stood again and then reached under her sweater and slowly pulled the sweatpants down and let them fall to the floor.  The sweater was long enough that it kept her concealed the whole time and I couldn’t see anything except her long, well tanned legs.  Facing me she smiled as she bent from the waist and picked up the sweatpants which caused the sweater to rise over her hips.  Had I been standing behind her I would have known whether she had worn panties or not, but as yet I had seen absolutely nothing.  Her goodies were miraculously still hidden.  

She folded her sweatpants and laid them on the arm of the sofa.  “Do you wasn’t me to be seated when I lift up the sweater or would rather have me standing?”  Before I could answer she continued. “I mean, do you want me to turn so you can see my ass first?  Do you want me to be bold and just pull it off?  Perhaps you’d like a little tease?”  

I smiled and shrugged my shoulders.  I waited to see what she would do.  She smiled back and then laid down on the sofa, her face resting on the pillow next to the armrest.
She turned her body to face me and then raised her knee up to her chest.  When it was as high as it would go she turned toward me and began playing with the fringe on the bottom of her sweater, teasing me in a way that words can’t adequately describe.  Little by little the sweater was raised until I could plainly see that she wasn’t wearing underwear, but with her leg cocked in front of her pubic area and her ass facing the back of the sofa there was precious little to be seen except soft, tanned, erotic skin.  Her smiling, seemingly hungry eyes never left mine and she never once blinked.

She kept slipping the sweater higher and higher until it reached her breasts.  She managed to slip an arm out of the sweater without exposing anything other than just skin and once it was freed she modestly covered her nipples with the other arm before she turned her upper body my way.  She laid there completely naked and I still had not seen a crack or a crevice, or a hint of hair or pointy pink things.   It had taken talent on her part and I wondered how many other times she had performed this same thing for other on-the-edge-of-their seat photographers. She had made no mistakes.  Now, with her sweater off and completely nude, she used her spare arm to untie the ribbon that kept her pony tail in place.  Once free she shook her head and let the hair fall wherever it wanted.

I assumed she was through with her teasing, but I was wrong.  She brought her bent knee up even further and then reached down and unclamped her ankle bracelet.  The leg nearest me was bent and her knee was almost to her face while the other was still as straight as an arrow.  I knew instinctively that the entire area between her legs must be complete spread open to an almost, if not actual, obscene level.   It was frustrating to be so close and yet still not seen a single glimpse of anything other than bare skin.

“I’m completely naked now,” she said in a soft, guttural, almost raspy voice. As she said this she let the bracelet drop from her hand and let it fall to the carpet. .  She gave her head another shake, rearranging the wild hair so it fell across part of her face and draped from her shoulder.   “Like my hair?” she whispered softly.

“Oh, yes,” I said almost in a trance. Even as I mouthed the words I knew it sounded lame.

“I have more,” she said in that same throaty voice.  “Would you like to see the rest of it?”	

When I nodded she placed her hand underneath her body and then turned to face me.  Her tits came into view first and I stared at them as intently as a kid would when seeing a pair for the first time.  Her lumpy sweater had given no hint to their perfect form.  They were both large enough and small enough to be pleasing to every taste.  I already knew for certain they were her best feature and I still had not seen the rest.

A teasing act is only successful for as long as it continues to progress, and she was wise enough to know it.  Before she had turned she had carefully covered the lips of her pussy with her hand, but either knowingly or unknowingly it afforded me the view of the fine, short blonde hairs that grew around them.  She didn’t appear to be shaved anywhere, but being a natural blonde made the effect much the same.  With her lips still safely covered and out of view she began casually, almost unconsciously, stroking the soft curls with her remaining fingers.  She was looking down at her hand as she gradually began spreading her legs apart.

Finally, agonizingly slow, she began moving her hands upward, her inner fingers tracing the course of her labia, her outer fingers concealing the soft petals from view.  Spread as open as she was she must have felt the sensation of pressure and the ever so slight friction it caused as her hand and fingers rubbed their way upward.  She didn’t allow her fingers to do anything other than lightly brush against her inner skin, but it gave the impression of masturbation nonetheless.  Even as soft a stroking as she was giving herself must have a feel to it, and I could sense her excitement as she continued to move her hand higher and higher.

Finally the reached the apex of the V.  She couldn’t raise her hand any higher without exposing everything.  It paused only momentarily, or perhaps it was only in my mind and it never paused at all, but I was rewarded for my patience.  The lips were peeled back and I could feast my eyes on the hairless pink wetness that was her cunt.  I slumped forward, my elbows on my knees and my chin resting on clasped hands; and stared directly at the bald bull’s-eye between her legs.  She didn’t seem to mind my stare in the least.  Instead she removed her hand completely and then brought her knees up and placed her feet on the couch, one on each side of her body.  She was as wide open as before, and as she leaned back to rest her body against the rough fabric of the couch her cheeks opened and I could almost see her asshole.  She was giggling when she finally said, “God I love being naked again.” 

She let me stare into her nude body few a few moments before standing.  She approached my chair and stood in front of me with her hands on her hips and her legs partially spread.  Without a word from me she began to turn.  Once she was facing away from me   then bend forward and gave me an unobstructed view of the entire area between her legs.  Her asshole peeked out at me for the first time and I could swear that she contracted her muscles and made it ‘wink’ at me.  When she turned and faced me again she was smiling.

Now that she was completely naked she seemed far more beautiful than I had at first thought.  Her eagerness to strip and the total immodesty she exhibited when she had turned and bent over more than impressed me.  She was truly a sexy woman and it was obvious she loved being erotic.  She was as free with her body as Ellie had been yet she looked as innocent as Helen.  The combination of those qualities was more than I had ever hoped to find.

“You seem to be enjoying your nudity,” I said as I lowered my eyes and stared unabashedly at her cunt, “and that’s very important to the project that we’ll be working on.  Obviously you won’t be required to be nude in all situations, but when it’s required it’s definitely in your favor that you enjoy yourself.  There’s nothing worse than having to encourage a model who you know is embarrassed by her nudity.”

“You have nothing to worry about in that regard,” she answered with that same infectious laughter that she had first exhibited at the door.  “Sometimes I have a hard time keeping my clothes on. To me it’s liberating.  I rarely wear clothes if I don’t have to.”

This was too good to be true.  Despite the bumpy start she had managed to turn the interview around to her favor and I found myself already thinking of her as my final choice.  The true test, of course, would be when I took her to the bookstore, but as far as I was concerned all she had to do was simply complete it.  Karen’s boiling kettle had been moved to the back of the stove and Angel’s frying pan was now sizzling on the front burner.

“So, what kind of a project are we going to be working on?” she asked.  “Your advertisement said that it was non pornographic, yet that magazine seems to indicate otherwise.”

That damn magazine again, I thought.  Sometimes it’s a good idea to lie and hope you get away with and other times when it’s best to just tell the truth and set the record straight.  This time I decided to tell the whole truth.

“I’m sorry you had to see that magazine,” I began.  “It was unintentionally left here by Karen, the girl that interviewed with me this morning, just as I said.  What I purposely omitted was exactly how she came about having it in her possession in the first place.  I hope it didn’t offend you in any way.”

I paused momentarily, not only to catch my breath but also to think of just the right way to segue into telling her what the ‘project’ was all about.  It was during this brief pause that Angel interrupted by saying “Oh, I wasn’t offended by the magazine.  I’ve seen a lot of hard core pornography in my life and most of it I enjoyed.  I’ve never done any of it, unless you count the spread I did for Hustler, but I certainly don’t have any moral objections to the one’s who pose for it or the one’s who enjoy looking at it.   I was only curious because of what your ad said.  What is this ‘exercise’ you talk about anyway?”

“I tell each girl that if they complete the entire interview, including what I call the ‘exercise’, I’ll pay them $100 whether they are eventually selected or not.  Two of the three, including this morning’s candidate, did everything I asked and received their money.  The other girl had no objection to stripping down in here, but she refused to do the ‘exercise’ portion.  I thanked her for her time and she went home.  If it’s a concern, I plan on paying whoever I select $500 a day for twenty days work.”  

“500$ for twenty days?  That’s $10,000!  The one that walked away, was she independently wealthy or was she fucking crazy?  Tell me, what do I need to do and when do we do it?”

I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.  Just as a lark I added, “And you’re not even counting the $100 bonus for today or that I’ll be picking up the tab for all the expenses.
There’s a slight drawback involved, but I think you’ll agree a perk that shall remain unnamed offsets it.  The drawback is that I’m paying for all of this out of my own pocket and not out of any company payroll.  There are no health benefits, no retirement fund, no paid sick days, and no automatic deduction from your daily paycheck to help you pay your Federal and State Income taxes.”  I smiled as I waited for her to figure out what the perk was.  I wanted to see if she was smart as she was sexy.

“And since there’s no record of you paying me the money there’s no reason for me to report it as income,” she said without missing a beat.  “This is going to be fucking awesome!”

**********

I left the room at that point and when I returned I handed her the pair of cutoffs and Helen’s shirt.  “Put these on,” I said.  “I hope that you don’t mind, but Karen wore them earlier and I haven’t had an opportunity to wash them.  I suppose I could find something else for you to wear, but up to now this if what they’ve all worn.  She looked carefully at the crotch area of the shorts and then shrugged her shoulders saying “I don’t mind wearing them.  They don’t appear to be wet.”  She flashed another one of her smiles and then stepped into them.

“When you put the shirt on tuck it loosely into the shorts but keep it unbuttoned all the way down.” 

She did as she was told and when she finished I pointed to the mirror.  She looked into it and when she saw the reflection her grin to change into a huge smile.  “I absolutely love it,” she said as she gyrated her hips back and forth in front of it, facing one direction and then another.  “It makes me look so adorably sluttish.”   She ran her hands all around the shorts, pulling them up and then down again, adjusting the seam that held the two cut away pant legs together to one side and then the other as if trying to picture what she would look like to others.  She seemed to be in her own narcissistic dream world as she posed this way and that, checking herself in the mirror with each new pose.  She played with the open blouse and intentional made sure she knew exactly which movements would expose her tits and which movements wouldn’t.  She pulled the seam, which was actually nothing more than a sliver of denim, tightly between her legs and watched from the front as it wedged its way between her pink pussy lips and then repeated the process by pulling it up into the crack of her ass, and then bent over to see if it was wide enough to shield her asshole from view.  All the while I stood beside her watching lustfully while she went through the entire process.  We conversed throughout and she showed absolutely no shame or timidity in any of the poses she stuck, even the most daring, and her comments and questions were far more explicit than I dared mine to be.  Unlike Karen, I couldn’t imagine her being embarrassed by anything I might ask her to do.

“I’m assuming that we will be taking a trip somewhere, right?  These ridiculously sexy clothes and the presence of that magazine indicate that you’re probably going to take me to an adult bookstore somewhere nearby and let everyone see me dressed like this.  Am I right?”

It took me a few moments to get up the courage to say what I said next.  “Yes, you’re right.  I’ve loved those times when I’ve been lucky enough to see a beautiful woman like you dressed provocatively like this in public. Some of them have gone about their business as if they weren’t aware of how they sexy they looked, and others have acted like little school children who were doing something naughty.  Some were professionals, I suppose, but I never knew for sure.  Each time I’ve seen one of these women I’ve wondered what they were like and what they were thinking.  I never talked to any of them, at least not about that, but I’ve always been curious.   I’m going to give you fifty dollars to go into the store and buy whatever you want.  To pass the assignment you have to spend at least fifteen minutes in the store.  Once you have completed the fifteen minutes and purchased what you want the assignment is over and I give you the $100 dollars.  Do you think you can do that?”

“Where’s you car?” was all she said in response.

**********

I parked in back of the bookstore like I had done with Karen.  I reached into my pocket and handed Angel two twenties and a ten which she folded and stuffed into the front pocket of her shorts, then I lit a cigarette and told her to return when her fifteen minutes had passed.  She opened the car door and unashamedly walked toward the store’s entrance.  She was just about ready to open the door when I saw her hesitate.  She stood motionless for a moment, and then unexpectedly turned and walked back to the car.  My hopes sank.  I was hoping she wasn’t going to change her mind.  She had seemed so confident, so eager, and I was suddenly was perplexed and disappointed.

“Don’t tell me you’re having a change of heart,” I said and she opened the car door and sat down again.

“Of course not,” she replied, “but I was just thinking about what you said earlier.  You said that you liked to watch women dressed like this and to be honest with you I enjoy being watched. I guess you could say you finally HAVE talked to one of those women. I’m exhibitionistic at heart and one of the main reasons I answered the ad was to have good excuse for getting naked.  Sometimes it scares the shit out of me when I think of some of the things I’ve done, but I still can’t seem to resist doing them. I think it’s actually the fear that makes it so fun.  It’s like having a jolt of adrenaline shoot through your body.  People can get addicted to adrenaline, you know.  Right now I’m terrified about going in there dressed like this, yet at the same time I’m ready to cum just out of anticipation.”  She paused for a moment and then asked, “Does that make any sense to you?  If you don’t mind I’ll have a cigarette first and give my poor heart a chance to stop beating so fast. Why can’t people like you and I just be normal like everyone else?”

“Karen said something along the same line,” I said as I reached into my shirt pocket and handed her the pack.  “She even wanted me to put my hand on her heart so I could feel it beating.”

“And did you?”

“I really didn’t have any say in the matter.  She grabbed my hand and put it there before she had even finished the sentence.”

Before I could stop her, Angel pulled her blouse open and grabbed my hand.  “I always rise to the level of my competition,” she said as she pressed the palm of my hand on the soft warm flesh above her heart.  I could feel the stiffness of her nipple as it lodged itself between two of my fingers.  Without thinking I squeezed them together and rolled the pink protuberance back and forth.  Suddenly it dawned on me what liberties I was taking and I pulled my hand away in embarrassment.  As I did I saw the smile on Angel’s face slowly change into a question mark.

“I’m sorry you took what I said as a suggestion,” I told her.  “It wasn’t my intent to cop a feel.”

“You don’t need to apologize.  I put your hand there so you could feel how hard my heart was beating, nothing more. The pleasure I got from you feeling my nipple was only a side issue.”

“YOU’RE pleasure?”

“Of course.  You of all people should know that most models enjoy having their bodies touched and played with.  Karen got away with it so why not me?” 

At this point my heart was racing as fast as hers.  Had I heard her correctly?  I was a fifty- eight year old man with emphysema and she was a beautiful, sexy woman.  It was one thing for her to strip off her clothes and let me see her naked – I was, after all, paying for the privilege – but to enjoy my touch?  It would all stop, of course, once she realized that I really wasn’t a professional photographer and that beyond touching there was nothing else I could do for her.  

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed movement in the rear view mirror.  It was a light blue SUV and it was pulling into the parking place next to us.  Angel’s blouse was still completely open and both breasts were hanging out.  Without thinking I reached out and chivalrously pulled the two sides together to cover her.  I held them that way until the single male driver had parked and entered the bookstore.

“It’s OK,” I told her as I loosened my grip on her blouse, “I don’t think he saw anything.”




Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 06



“I guess not,” she said wryly, “since there was nothing to see.”  She opened the blouse again and then positioned it as it had been before she had pulled it apart.  She waited for a moment, looking at me, and then said, ‘My hearts not beating as fast as it was before.  I’m ready to go in, but before I do can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Why do you want me to go in by myself?  Wouldn’t it be more fun if you were there as well?  If you like watching so much then why don’t you come in and watch while I strut my stuff?  If you’re embarrassed by being seen with me then you can go in first and I’ll follow a few minutes later.  That way you can pretend that you’re watching one of those girls you told me about before, the ones you’ve seen dressed like this, and no one would be the wiser. You’d certainly have more fun than sitting in a car, wouldn’t you?”

I started to cough.  It was the cigarette smoke that hung heavily in the closed car, I thought, and nothing more.  After my coughing had subsided and my breathing had evened out again I nodded my head.  Yes, it would be more fun.  Angel’s suggestion brought up the question as to why I hadn’t thought of it before.  For that matter, why hadn’t Karen thought to make the same offer?  Deep down I knew that Angel had hit it on the head.  For all my talk about how much I had admired those women who I had seen in the past, it was all talk.  Instinctively she knew that I would have felt embarrassed to be with them.

Just as it had been that night at the bar with Helen, my fantasies were much bigger than the reality (or perhaps I should say the reality was much bigger than the fantasy, or perhaps I should substitute the word ‘scarier’ for ‘bigger’).  Whatever the case might be, when my fantasy turns into my reality I back off. I see things as they really are and I  imagine things that can never be real.  As a result I’m never satisfied.  A fantasy can never be truly fulfilling because it’s never perfect, and nothing is perfect because the fantasy is always one step ahead of it. 

Angel had come up with the perfect solution.  She was savvy enough to understand me and to understand the fantasies that led me into the quagmire. Under the guise of being just another spectator, however, I could watch with impunity.  My fantasies and my relationship with her would remain hidden to all who were present.  I had been asking her – and Karen, of course – to do what I was essentially afraid to do myself, and that was to put myself on the line and accept my role in the reality of everything.  I suddenly made a promise to myself that from that point on I wasn’t going to hide.  Instead I would take my chances and for once accept responsibility for my actions and my thoughts. I would no longer hide behind excuses and avoid denial.  I wouldn’t to do it today, of course, but if she were the one I hired I would certainly do it tomorrow.  And, if not tomorrow, then certainly the day after that.  

When we finished our cigarettes we stubbed them out in the ashtray.  She lit one more and said, “I’ll follow you when I’m finished.”

I knew it was time for me to go.  She was preparing herself mentally for what was to come, and she needed time to plan her moves.

I knew that I would enjoy her performance.  How could I not?

I knew that whoever was in the bookstore would enjoy her performance. Wasn’t a LIVE woman better than one in a magazine?

But for Angel, the only one that really mattered was herself.   

She would be performing for me and she would be performing for me, but the one she wanted to please the most was herself. 

**********

I had been in the store for less than five minutes when I hear the back door open and saw her walk in.  The cashier’s cubicle faced the interior of the store and he saw her immediately.  Not counting myself, there were three customers in the store and none seemed to notice her arrival.  Their eyes were too busy scanning through magazines seeking their own private fantasies to take notice suspect that a live fantasy was about to take place behind their backs. I knew that Angel wasn’t the kind of girl that would tolerate inattention for long, however, and I wondered what their reactions would be once she had revealed her presence to them.

She only gave me a quick, secretive glance as she passed behind me.  I turned and watched as she went to the end of the aisle and began looking through the magazines.  The fat, oily and unshaven cashier sat silently on his perch behind the wire meshing that only gave the impression of security and leered openly at her through beady little eyes.  Never actually picking one up, she perused the rack, going from magazine to magazine looking intently at the covers that were every bit as  explicit as their content.  As she examined each cover she slowly moved down the aisle in my direction.  When she stretched upward to see the covers of the magazines on the top shelf the blouse tightened over her chest and the swell of her breasts were fully exposed, the entire sides as well as the slight fold of the skin where they met with straight smooth skin beneath.  The only things left to the imagination were the nipples, and they were was dangerously close to becoming visible when she stood straight and the sides were loosened again.  When she bent down to inspect those on the bottom shelf, however, a completely different view was on display.  When she bent that way the shirt pulled away from her body and the pink pointed tips of her tits could be seen.  Although they never fell out completely the gap between the shirt and her skin was open and if I could see them I knew the manager could as well.  As if that weren’t enough, the cheeks of her ass opened when she bent and when she stood again the seam and both sides of the fabric the fabric wedged themselves between her cheeks. With little or no embarrassment she would causally pull her lapels of her blouse together (out of modesty?) and then picked the seam out of her ass with her fingers.

As she casually walked slowly down the aisle inspecting all the covers I gave up the charade of not noticing her. My eyes were staring directly at her voluptuous and vulnerable body along with an occasional furtive glance at the cashier who was also watching her every move.  I know it sounds like a cliché but he actually licked his lips as he stared at her.

When she reached the spot where I was standing she stretched high again and for the first time actually picked out a magazine.  Her breast grazed against me as she brought her arm down and I felt of jolt of electricity go through me.  She stood looking at the cover and held it in a position so I could see it as well.  The picture on the cover was of a completely naked blonde not unlike Angel herself kneeling down on deck of what appeared to be a yacht.  Her hand was between her spread legs and she was masturbating herself with her fingers.  There was a fully dressed man whose face was not shown standing in front of her and slightly to side with his cock sticking out of his unzipped fly.  He was erect and her mouth was covering the helmet.  The picture was taken from approximately four or five feet behind her and it showed everything.  In perfect focus and brilliant color you could see the two fingers inserted up to the knuckles in her wet cunt as well as a truly gaping asshole. What really made it unique, however, was the background.  The picture had been taken while the boat was docked in a marina!   The photographer had caught not only them and their boat but at least fifteen to twenty other boats visible in the background, two of which were obviously in motion and near enough that it would have been hard for them not to have seen at least something.  The suckee was probably blocking a portion of the suckers activity, and perhaps the cabin or a boathouse or some other structure was just behind the photographer, but as I stood there studying the picture I could count at least eight people at various locations in the background, either walking around on the docks or enjoying themselves on their moored boats as well as three others on boats that were passing. There was absolutely no way that the masturbating model herself or the blow job she was performing could be shielded from sight completely.  The magazine was titled ‘Sex in Public – For Those Who Dare.”  

She only stood next to me for a few seconds but that was all I needed to see everything I needed to see. She never said anything to me and our guise of complete strangers was maintained.  She placed the book on the bottom shelf instead of replacing it back on the top shelf and then passed behind me to continue on the other side.  Now, semi-shielded from view by my body much as the model on the cover had been, she bent over to look at the magazines on the bottom row and when she stood she purposely scooped one of her breasts out of her blouse.  She allowed me a few seconds to privately stare at it before brazenly pulling her shorts to the side.

Her entire pussy was on display to whoever happened to have the right vantage point to see.  She was now perhaps two feet to my left and still facing away from the three customers who were engrossed in their reading against the other wall.  The only one that had the ability to see her was the cashier and since my body still blocked her it was questionable whether he could see her exposure or not. To add even more thrills she tempted fate time and time again by stretching and bending more frequently than before as she gradually moved down the aisle. With every step she took she got further and further away me which increased the chance that he would see. 

I quickly scanned the room.  The cashier was still staring in our direction but he gave no indication yet that he had noticed her heightened level of exposure.  I did notice, however, that one of the customers had suddenly ceased his book browsing and was repositioning himself in the middle of the room where the table that held the sex toys was located.  He was fairly young - perhaps twenty one or two - and he smiled at me conspiratorially when he saw me looking at him. He knew that I knew that I was watching him watch her, and I knew that he knew that it was impossible for me not to have been doing the same thing.  I had no option to give him back the same shit-eating grin he’d given me. To do otherwise would reveal my relationship with Angel.  

As she slowly walked down the rest of the aisle perusing even more of the pornographic magazines she was careful to keep her back toward the cashier as much as possible.  My impression was that she still had her tit out and that the golden fluff of fur between her legs was still exposed by the twisted shorts but I couldn’t be sure since her back was to me as well. Besides the manager, it was only the one customer and I that were actively watching her.  I didn’t want to be obvious so I stayed where I was but he didn’t seem to be concerned at all.  He shifted from one end of the table to the other to get the best view, eye-stalking her the whole time.  Twice I noticed her turn her head and glance at him.  Both times he smiled at her.  She was left to choose whether to smile back or avert her eyes and pretend not to notice.  Both times she smiled back.

By now she was almost to the end of the wall and I doubted my body could still block the view of the cashier whose eyes had never moved.  I was suddenly tempted to simply move out of the way and put any doubts to rest.  I wanted him to see her in all of her glorious dishabille.  I wanted them ALL to see her and to watch their faces as they looked at her exposed flesh.  I wanted to see them either fail miserably in their puny attempts at approaching her with propositions that were doomed to failure, or see them succeed in hiding their thoughts, dooming them to regrets of a gloriously debauched moment in time that passed unfulfilled by their own failure to seize the moment.  

In the end, however, I simply remained where I was and let nature take its course.  It was her decision to make, not mine, and I was now more curious to see she would do once she had reached the wall’s end than their reaction.  Her denouement was inevitable anyway, given time, and I knew that I wouldn’t  miss a damn thing by waiting.  

My curiosity was suddenly satisfied when she looked at the last cover on the last row of magazines on the rack.  She turned suddenly and boldly stared at me and at the cashier’s cage beyond.  She had NOT covered her bare tit nor had she readjusted the shorts.  She stood motionless for a few seconds and then began walking toward the oily-haired cashier, picking the shorts from her ass and straightening them forward while she moved.  With the exception of the errant tit that was still framed by the open blouse she was as decent as she could be, given her attire, and she gave me a clandestine wink as she as she passed by me.  My eyes were automatically drawn to her butt as she approached the cashier’s counter.  Her cheeks were undulating back and forth as she walked and the strap hung down low enough for me to plainly see the crack of her ass. 

The cashier’s eyes were on her all the way and she was only a few feet away from him when she suddenly ‘noticed’ that her tit was exposed.  I couldn’t see what he saw, obviously, but I saw her reach her arm in front of her body and readjust the shirt followed by her saying in a fairly loud voice “Ooops.”  In the lexicon of exhibitionistic maneuvers this could almost be a given: Let them see what they want to see and then pretend you were unaware that anything was seeable.  Not in a million years has anyone ever bought into this bald faced lie, but the deniability assuages a lot of consciences and avoids the necessity  of embarrassed apologies from innocent parties.  If proper society demands such a face-saving then why not give it with as much mock sincerity as possible?  It was the most perfect and logical solution.  He got to see what he wanted to see and she got to show what she wanted to show.  She could maintain at least a small portion of her modesty and he could still gaze at her still immodest parade of raw sexuality without feeling guilt at what he had already seen.  They both knew it was a sham, of course, but the pretense of making it a case of simple carelessness made it palatable.

He was seated at a desk on a small platform raised a few feet above the floor and I noticed that she stopped well back from the counter so he could see all of her instead of just the upper half he would have seen had she been closer.

“Damn I’m a lucky man today. You’re the second babe that’s been in her today dressed like that. I been watching you ever since you got in.  Is this some kind of initiation or something?”  So much for his part in the grand charade of polite deniability. : It seemed he didn’t give a damn whether she knew he had been watching her or not. 

Her back was still toward me but she spoke loud enough that I could hear her clearly.  “I don’t think so, but one never knows, does one?’  I now knew the charade had only a figment of my mind.

I quickly turned my eyes and looked at the two men against the far wall.  If I could hear her conversation I assumed they could hear as well.  My assumption proved correct since both of them had placed their magazines down and were now finally looking in her direction. The other customer who had been standing near the sex toys was slowly moving back down the aisle toward the front of the store.

“Well,” I heard the cashier say, “she had bigger tits than yours but they wasn’t as good.   She was younger than you too, but she wasn’t nowhere as sexy.  Truth is she acted nervous as hell all the time while you look downright comfy walking around like that.”

Her body was facing him straight on and I watched his eyes travel down her body as he spoke.  I was assuming her pussy remained covered and that both nipples were now hidden from his view, but I couldn’t be sure.  After everything that had happened to me today this level of exposure seemed relatively tame, but I’m sure TWO girls in less than four hours far exceeded anything HE had seen in here before.  I also suspected that it was only a matter of time before she moved the heat up a few degrees.

By now all three of the customers had moved closer to the front of the store and were busily feasting their eyes.  Unlike the manager, however, their eyes were feasting on her ass instead of her tits  After all the twiddling and twisting her Daisy Mae’s had endured during her little game of “show the pussy” back at the magazine rack, they now rode lower on her hips than before and the gap between the seam and her body was much looser.  Where the strap between her legs afforded her at least a modicum of modesty before there was clearly none now.  The looseness of the strap coupled with the ripped sides gave them an almost complete view of her ass.  The only thing covered was the defining line that separated the two grooves – the crack, as it were - and that was only out of sight due to the angle at which they were viewing her.  If she were to turn more than ten degrees to her left they would be able to see that as well.  Another ten degree turn and they would probably be able to see the junction between her legs as well.  Despite my impotence the view of her (and my view of them watching her) was making me extremely horny and had I not been afflicted with this malady of mine I would have been sporting a huge woody.  

I had been distracted by the movement of the men and had lost track of the conversation between Angel and the cashier, but I started  listening again and heard the cashier say, “On a scale of one to ten I’d rank her a seven and I’d rank you an eight.  I’ll move you all the way up to a ten if you’ll peel open that shirt of yours and let me take a nice long look at those fine looking titties.”

I heard her laugh and say, “Thanks for the giggles. I haven’t heard anyone call them ‘titties’ since I was in Junior High School.  It brings back some good memories though.
Did the other girl give you a show like that?”   

“Kinda, but I gotta be truthful and tell you that it was by accident.  She bent over and they kinda popped all by their selves and then when she went to correct the problem her shorts fell down to her knees. They was looser on her than they on you and she had to hold them up with her hands most of the time. I seen almost everything she had and she seemed a little skittish about that.”  

“I think I’d be a little skittish myself if these shorts fell THAT far down.  You can’t wear panties with shorts like these as you can probably tell.  Do you think she acted as skittish as all the OTHER girls you normally have sashaying around in here?  Stores that sell porno must be a real babe magnet, right?”   He looked uneasy with the question, and when he didn’t answer quickly enough she continued.  “You must get, what, maybe ten or twenty girls a week traipsing through here all decked out in sexy clothes and flaunting themselves for you.?”

“No, not that many,” he answered.

“Ten or twenty a month?  A year?”

He looked uncomfortable with the question but he finally smiled.  “You two ain’t the only ones.  I get to see maybe one or two good shows a month.  Most of them are with their boyfriends or their husbands, but once in a while a girl will come in all by herself.  The boss rented out the place one day for a movie someone was making but that was a week before I started work here, damn it.  Maybe he’ll do it again someday.”

“So why did you rate us a seven and an eight?  Seems like we should both be tens. I’m tempted to show you my tits just to watch you drool.”

“So make me drool.  I’ll give you a ten if you do.”

“Forget it.  I really don’t really want to watch you drool. It’s not all that romantic, if you know what I mean.” 




Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 07



"I'm sorry," I said. 

I said it only after we had returned safely to the car and were pulling out of the parking lot. She had walked the twenty or thirty feet to the car without ever bothering to put on her shirt. To the best of my knowledge no one had seen her, but that was only a matter of chance. At any moment a car may have driven down the well used alley way to patronize any of the several stores that, like the bookstore, had rear entrances for the convenience of their customers. Or perhaps an employee of one of those stores may have chosen to take a cigarette break at that particular moment and walked out of the store and seen her. Cars driving through the intersections at either end of the short alleyway would have allowed their drivers a perfect view as well, and since the alleyway abutted homes that faced the street one block over there were rear windows to be considered as well as opened garage doors. 

"Sorry for what?" she responded. 

"I'm sorry that I...Aren't you going to put your shirt on?" 

"Why, do you want me to?"

I looked at her bare tits and then quickly glanced out the window. The street wasn't bumper to bumper by any means, but it wasn't deserted either. I looked both ways and for the moment no one was coming. I turned left and proceeded to accelerate. 

"Well, do you or not?" she asked. "I don't see any reason to put it on but I will if you ask me to." When I didn't immediately answer she simply smiled and changed the subject.

"You said you wanted to apologize for something?"

"Yes, I...I wanted to apologize for...for, you know...feeling you up like I did." 

"You don't have to feel sorry for that. If I had minded I wouldn't have put your hand there in the first place."

"I don't mean earlier. I mean later when I... when I...

"When you stuck your fingers inside me? That WAS a surprise, but it wasn't a big deal. Don't worry about it."

We drove in silence for perhaps a minute before Angel said, "And I'm sorry too."

"What are YOU sorry for?" I asked as I lit the first cigarette I'd had since before entering the book store.

"I'M sorry that you threw in all that shit about wanting me to use the dildo. I thought everything had been going fine until then." It sounded more like a rebuke than an apology, but I gracefully let it slide. The last thing I wanted to do was to get into an argument with her. 

"I don't know. It was in the spur of the moment and I didn't mean anything by it. I'm sorry it bothered you." 

"I wouldn't say it bothered me, but it certainly threw me off track. Up until you mentioned the dildo I thought I had everything under control."

'You mentioned it first," I reminded her. 

"Yes, and now I wish I hadn't. Put yourself in my place for a minute. I'm trying go get you to hire me and I don't have any idea of what you're really looking for. Your advertisement said that the work wouldn't be pornographic, and then you ask me to stuff a dildo in my pussy and let a roomful of strangers watch me masturbate? For all I knew it was some kind of test."

"It wasn't." 

"Obviously, since we're having this discussion. Unfortunately I didn't know it at the time. I suddenly had a decision to make. If I DID accept your offer - and I followed through with it - you might think I was a little too slutty and I'd lose my chance of being hired. On the other hand, if I said no to the offer you might not hire me because I wasn't willing to do what you wanted me to do. You put me in a position where I had to choose, and I really didn't have enough information to go on."

There was a grey Ford Explorer waiting to enter traffic from a side street and I gave car a little more gas to go in front of him so he would be safely behind us where I could keep and eye on him. For the time being he was the only car we needed to worry about, but I knew that there would soon be others. I could my blood pressure rising.

"So why did you choose to reject the offer? Why not accept it?" I asked, taking another look in the rear view mirror. 

"I weighed the options and decided that I had the best chance of getting the job by rejecting it. If I accepted and then found out it was the wrong choice I wouldn't have much chance to change your mind. By NOT accepting I at least had a chance of making up for it later on." 

I thought about what she'd said and it made sense. She was doing her best to straddle the saddle and not fall off horse. 

"If I had known that you really wanted me to do it I would have, if that's what you want to know," she said just before I was ready to respond to her last statement. "Like I've told you, I WANT this job. So tell me, did you want me to do it or not?" 

I had to think before answering. "Yes and no. I guess I wanted to see what you would do. In the end you did it anyway, only you used your fingers instead of the dildo. If you wanted to play it safe, why did you do it then and not earlier?"

"By then you'd stuck your finger in my pussy. I figured that anybody who did that while a group of strangers watched wasn't strictly a non-pornographic kind of guy. From that point on I just did what I wanted to do."

"And that's what you WANTED to do?"

She smiled enigmatically and changed the subject. "I really do hope you're going to hire me. We seem to understand each other and we get along together. I think we'd have a good time. I didn't do anything that you didn't want me to, did I?" In the view mirror I saw the Explorer had changed lanes and accelerated. Instead of trying to stay ahead of him I gambled and quickly tapped on the brakes. Thankfully he passed by so quick that he didn't see her nudity. 

"No. I was a little nervous of course," I responded, "but now that it's over I don't think I could have asked for anything better."

"So, it didn't jeopardize my chance of getting the job?"

"No. If anything it did the opposite." 

"So, you enjoyed it?"

"It was the highlight of the last ten years of my life," I said with complete sincerity.

"If you enjoyed it so much then why are you so nervous now? I've been watching your eyes and you've spent more time looking at the traffic than you have my tits. I told you I'd cover up if you wanted me to."

"No, don't," I said more quickly than I suppose I should have. "If it gets too busy I'll tell you, but keep if off for now." 

She smiled wickedly at me. "The last ten years, huh? Do you want to make it the last twenty?" Before I could answer she unbuttoned her shorts and slipped them off. "I never came, you know."

I snubbed out what was left of my cigarette in the ashtray and put both of my hands firmly on the steering wheel. 

**********

I couldn't make up my mind if I was more excited or frightened. Here I was, an older man driving down the main street of town with a totally naked girl in my car, and if that weren't enough she was masturbating. Her right foot was braced against the top of the dash and her left was dangerously close to the accelerator. If I had driven the Chevy Suburban we would be riding high off the ground, but when Karen and I had returned from the morning's field trip I had noticed the gas gauge showed it was nearly empty. Rather than subject Angel to a potentially embarrassing pit stop dressed in less than pit stop apparel I had opted to take the Taurus instead. Now she was vulnerable to the eyes of almost everyone on the road.

It was over five miles to the freeway and another six miles before we reached home. I wasn't concerned all that much about the freeway – few people take the time to look in other people's cars as they pass by - but I was concerned about the five miles it took getting there. From here to the on-ramp was primarily commercial property, with a smattering of residential thrown in for good measure, and there were numerous stop signs and traffic signals along the way that could cause us problems. The last mile or so was industrial and if we could make it to there we would probably be safe since the five o'clock exodus from those heading home after a day's work was almost an hour away. Traffic was still light but there were not enough traffic to keep me nervous. To calm myself I lit another cigarette. 

Despite the XXX-rated performance occurring only inches away from me I tried like hell to keep my eyes trained on the road. I wasn't altogether successful but I did manage to avoid accidents and I kept track as best I could the position of all the cars in the area. Masturbating in the bookstore with the doors locked was one thing but doing it along a major thoroughfare where any stray glance would draw attention was quite another. With her foot on the dash and a liberal amount of bare leg showing above window level I suspected such stray glances would be inevitable.

We made it through the first two intersections without anyone seeing her, but we encountered a problem as we approached the third. I saw the light change to red in the distance and the brake lights from the Explorer came on. The last thing I wanted was to sit stationary next to the Explorer, but given the distance from us to the light I felt confident that we were far enough away so that gradual slowing would increase the chances that we wouldn't need to stop at all. I took my foot off the pedal and as we slowed I took advantage of the situation by treating myself to a full ten second stare at Angel's fingers as they slid in and out of her wet pussy. Finally I forced my eyes to look at the road again and as I did I caught a quick glimpse in the rear view mirror of a yellow Volkswagen gaining on us from behind. I lightly tapped the brake and slowed even more. I was expecting the driver to stay behind us, but instead he changed lanes and passed us on the right. The driver was male and as he passed I noticed him glancing at Angel's exposed leg. He didn't slow down but I was sure he had seen her tits as well as her leg. At that very moment, I thought, he was wondering what else she wasn't wearing. 

Now that he was ahead of us I tapped the brakes again and slowed even more quickly. The Explorer was now at a complete stop and yellow Volkswagen was slowing as well. We were getting dangerously close to the intersection and it was decision time. It was too late for us to either fall back and get behind the Volkswagen or speed up and get between the two cars, and I realized that the only option that would keep her out of sight was to stop a full three car links from the crosswalk. 

I had just begun to brake when I noticed the light was changing to yellow for the cross traffic. I began relaxing a little assuming that we had it made. Within a second or two the yellow light would turn to red and with acceleration we could speed pass them cars without needing to stop. They wouldn't see a thing. I waited a few seconds and then accelerated.

Now, assumptions are based on a probability that a particular action will or will not happen. We examine the facts, assign fictional 'weights' to the various outcomes, make a logical evaluation of the data, and then simply give it our best guess. Theoretically the most logical outcomes should prevail most of the time, and when they don't it's normally caused by GIGO. For those of you who are not computer literate or up to date on current mumbo-jumbo, GIGO is an abbreviation for Garbage In-Garbage Out which is an acronym noting that garbage inputted into a computer results in garbage outputted. 

Like shit, GIGO happened. My input was garbage and the output got fucked up. The yellow light I had seen was for the CROSS traffic to stop in order to let cars make a left turn in front of us and not, as I had assumed, a green light for us to go. I had noticed the left hand turn signal too late to do anything other than to slam on the brakes and come to a complete stop almost nose to nose with the Explorer. We couldn't turn left, we couldn't turn right, we couldn't creep forward for fear of being clipped by the turning cars, and by the freakiest of circumstances a crappy looking car that must have been ten years old had popped up out of a bad dream and was slowing down behind us. We were trapped and there was no option other than staying where we were and letting the driver of the Explorer get an eyeful of Angel's naked body. 

Once she had shucked her shorts and begun playing with her pussy Angel had closed her eyes and shut out all distractions. Despite my sudden slowing she continued to masturbate and was completely ignorant that we were stopped, much less that she was being observed. That was about to change. When the light finally turned green I floored it. The screech of the tires and my fast acceleration finally caught her attention. She immediately jumped forward and pulled her foot of the dash. "What the hell was that?" she asked with a look of panic on her face. 

"Some yo-yo in a SUV," I answered as I checked my rear view mirror and saw the gray Explorer pacing us in the other lane. "He pulled up along side at the stop light and he was looking at you."

"Thank God! For a minute there I thought maybe we were going to be in accident! You should have given me some sort of a warning." She nervously reached for her cigarettes and then settled back in the seat and lit one. 

All of a sudden a black VW pulled out of a driveway in front of us and I had to brake in order to avoid hitting it. It accelerated to perhaps 25 MPH and then held that speed. I looked in the rear view mirror and saw the Explorer rapidly approaching on the right, with the yellow Volkswagen right behind and the crappy looking junk heap still behind us. 

"I think it's time for you to put your shirt on again," I said, looking at her. I think she knew I was worried. 

"Are you sure he saw me? He's certainly not making much of an attempt to catch up with us."

I looked in the mirror again and saw that she was right. It didn't seem like he had closed the gap at all. If anything he seemed further away than before. I quickly checked the speedometer to make certain I wasn't exceeding the speed limit and then took my foot off the gas and let the car drift over to right side of the road.

"I don't know," I said "He was sitting too high for me to see his eyes, but the guy in the yellow VW definitely did. He was looking directly at your leg when he passed us." 

"What could he see from a VW? I'm talking about the guy in the Explorer." 

"I think he did, but now I'm not so sure."

"Then why don't you slow down? If he's already seen me then what's the difference? And if he didn't see me but you THINK he did then it's the same as if he had, right?"

"No. If he did then he...I mean, if he didn't he didn't whether I...?

""Let him catch up with us so I can give him a show. That way we'll all know for certain." She smiled at me and then put her leg on the dash board again. 

There was a flaw in Angel's logic – I knew there was – but I couldn't quite figure out what it was. I looked in my rearview mirror and saw him gaining on us. I placed my foot on the brake pedal and pushed it softly. 

Angel placed her foot on the dash again and began playing with her nipples. Her eyes were looking into the side mirror and watching him as he approached. 

"SHIT!" I heard her say as the Explorer breezed by us without so much as attempt to slow down to match our speed. 'He never even slowed down. Are you sure he saw me the first time?" 

"I don't know. I'm not as certain as I had been, that's for sure."

"So speed up again and catch him. I WANT him to see me."
 "I don't think I have to. He's slowing down. I think he noticed you this time." 

**********

Angel's window was down and her long hair was blowing in the wind. Her arm was resting on the car door and she was looking straight ahead as our two cars closed the gap. She was still smiling. 

As we came closer together I could see him looking back at us through his side mirror. When the two were side by side he adjusted his speed to match ours and smiled down at Angel. Cool as could be she just sat there and didn't do or say anything.

From where I was sitting the roof of the car still blocked my view of his eyes, but I was nervous nonetheless. She was sitting close enough to the door that he probably couldn't see her pussy, but her bare breasts would easily visible to his eyes. I kept trying to put myself in his position. What was he thinking? What was she? Would he say something to her? Would she sit silently from here to the Freeway letting him stare at her breasts without moving? 

Although it seemed longer it was probably not more than ten, or perhaps fifteen, seconds before Angel leaned over and took the cigarette pack out of my shirt pocket. To do so she had to move her body across the whole car and I knew that he had undoubtedly been introduced to the sight of her ass and probably her pussy as well. She shook one out of the pack and then sat forward and waited for the lighter in the dash to warm enough to ignite her cigarette. When it was lit, she returned to her seat and assumed her previous pose. 

Another long ten seconds passed before Angel turned and rolled down the window. "So, are you enjoying the show?" I heard her ask.

If there was an answer I couldn't hear it for all the noise the wind was making as its rushed through her open window, but suddenly she moved the cigarette to her left hand and began running her right hand over her breasts.

Quite honestly I didn't know what to do. I wanted to push down on the accelerator and escape, yet I wanted to stay and watch as she exposed herself to this stranger. I was afraid that she would take it to the next level and afraid that she wouldn't. My mind was getting confused and my wants and desires were getting mixed up with my fears and uncertainties. Then – suddenly – I felt myself starting to get hard. It had been a long time, and I was ecstatic. Perhaps my idea of hiring a model was the panacea I had been looking for. Hopefully by the time the 20 days were over I would find that it had been caused by lack or stimulation and not, as I had feared, total impotence. Perhaps Angel, like Karen, would want to fuck me once we returned to the house. Would I be able to perform? My hands were sweating and the steering wheel felt wet. 

Still rubbing her hands over her breasts she turned to me and asked "How far is it to the freeway?" 

"That's it straight ahead," I said pointing to already visible sign pointing the way. 

"Just in time," she said. "This is getting me hot." She placed both feet against the dash and then turned and exposed her pussy to him. I let out a small gasp when I suddenly realized what she was doing. Her right hand was on the seat and her left began stroking the tight, curly hair between her legs. She was pointing her pussy directly at him and there was no doubt in my mind that she was parting her lips for his visual pleasure. 

She was high above the seat that she could easily be seen by anyone on the road whether they were approaching us from the rear, coming at us from the other direction or even walking down the street. As far as I could tell it wouldn't have bothered her if the whole damn world was to watch. She seemed to revel in her exposure.

I watched her every bit as attentively as our new friend in the Explorer. Facing her from the front he could see things that I obviously couldn't, but I was closer and had what I imagined was a better much better view. I was viewing her from behind, and through her parted legs I could see both holes in Technicolor brilliance as her fingers caressed and stimulated them in tandem. She was wet and there was a musky smell of sex in the car that even the open window failed to disperse. No, I thought, I wouldn't have wanted to change positions with him all. The only thing that he had in his favor was that he was seeing her for the first time, and in a completely unexpected environment. He was experiencing her in much the same way as I had experienced the girl in Terry's Tavern – suddenly and unexpectedly. It was a moment in time that he would be remembered forever, and the memories would stay with him as long as lived. I on the other hand had twenty more days to learn more of her body's pleasures.




Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 07



"The Freeway's coming up. Sorry but the shows over" she suddenly yelled out of the open window to him. I quickly slowed down and drifted into the left lane and prepared to exit.

"He must be in a hurry to get home," she said as he waved at her as we enter the on ramp to the freeway and continued going straight. "I thought sure he was going to get on the freeway with us."

Because of the difference in size between the two vehicles, I had never actually saw the man's face other than a quick glance or two in my rear view mirror, so Angel took it upon herself to describe him as best she could. For the better part of five minutes – longer perhaps than the entire episode had lasted – she went into great detail as to what he was wearing, the color of his eyes and hair, the look on his face when he first realized she was naked, how he reacted when she said her first words to him and when she first raised up and let him see her pussy, and finally the disappointment that he had experienced when she told him we were getting on the freeway. 

When she was finished talking I couldn't think of anything she could have left out. 

**********

The rest of the ride home was anticlimactic (no pun intended). Angel was animated and happy and I was quietly dealing with all the things that had happened. She stayed naked for the duration of the drive but as much as it disappointed me she did not resume masturbating. I suppose I could have suggested it, but that just wasn't my style. Or was it perhaps that I didn't know how to ask

We passed quite a few cars and quite a few cars passed us but no one on the freeway seemed to notice her. Perhaps the reason they didn't was because of my driving. The adventure with the Explorer was still fresh in my mind, and while I had enjoyed it I was not up to trying it again. Like before I made a point of watching for approaching cars and I varied my speed to avoid detection, but after the first few miles I more or less forgot about it. Freeway driving was much safer for this kind of activity than surface streets. 

It wasn't until I reached the off ramp that Angel reluctantly got dressed. By the time I approached the house she was as modestly attired as her skimpy clothing would allow. She even had the shirt buttoned half way.

"I would suggest that you wash these cut-offs before they're used again," she said as I pulled into the drive way. "This time they're definitely wet."

To Be Continued...



Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 08



The first thing I did upon entering the house was to escort Angel to the dining room. “Would you prefer red or white?” I asked as stepped into the adjoining kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. 

“Wine? Either, I suppose, but nothing really sweet or really dry. Do you have Chablis, or a Rose?”

I opened the Chablis and brought the bottle along with two imitation crystal wine glasses back to the table and began pouring.

“To your employment,” I said, “and to the next twenty days.

Her liquid blue eyes lit up when she heard what I’d said. “You mean you’re offering me the job?”

“Do you still want it?”

“Of course I do.”

“Can you start tomorrow?”

“I…well…sure, I guess so. I had something planned but I can always schedule it for later.”

“Would you mind? I’m anxious to get this project started and the sooner the better.”    

“Tomorrow’s fine.”

I sat across the table from her and lifted my glass. “To tomorrow,” I said as I leaned forward and touched my glass to hers.

“This is the first job interview I’ve ever gone to where I got to drink wine with the boss the same day I got hired,” she said. “Come to think of it, it’s also the first time I’ve ever let the boss see me masturbate before being hired. Kind of a novelty, don’t you think?” She smiled and gave a little giggle.

“Drink up. Maybe you’ll be able to say it’s the first time you got drunk before you got hired.”  

“Won’t happen,” she said as she raised her glass to her mouth and took huge drink of her wine. “We’ve got too much to talk about and I want us both to be level headed. After we get all the ground rules set then I’d be happy to get drunk with you, but not until then, OK?”

“Ground rules? What kind of ground rules are you talking about?”

“I’ll get to those in a few minutes,” she said, “but first would you mind going back to the car and bring in the magazines? I’d like to go through them with you and get a clearer picture of the kind of things you want me to do.”

I refilled her glass and she carried it with her as she followed me to the door. Her sweater and sweat pants were lying on the couch and as I walked out of the house I saw her make a move toward them. I was little disappointed since she definitely looked better in the clothes she was wearing than what she had been wearing when I first saw her. Rather than satiating my desires, this day of almost constant nudity and semi-nudity had only made me hungry for more, and if she was going to change clothes I at least wanted to watch.

When I returned with the magazines I was relieved to see that Angel was still standing where I had left her. Her sweat pants and the lumpy sweater remained on the couch and she was laughing. “Look what I found,” she said as she held up a dildo. “It was inside Karen’s bag along with another magazine.”

“Keep them if you want,” I offered. “It was my money she spent, so theoretically they’re mine, not hers.”

“Thanks, but no thanks to the dildo. I haven’t found one yet that can give me the same pleasure I get by using my own fingers. All that crap I said in the store was only for effect. I really didn’t want it. We should, however, keep the magazine. Who knows what nasty things it might inspire us to do?” She laughed and tossed the dildo down on the couch with disdain then she picked up the magazine and her clothes.

Once we were back in the Dining Room she set her clothes on the table and took off the shirt and the shorts she was wearing. Standing naked in front of me once more she reached into the pocket of the torn Levi’s and handed me the fifty dollars I had given her for the purchase of the magazines.  

“No, go ahead and keep it,” I said feasting my eyes on her nudity, “You earned it.”

“I like to keep everything straight. Since I never spent it it’s yours. Here, take it.” 

“The money’s irrelevant. I gave it to you to get merchandise from the store and you did. You fulfilled your obligation and as far as I’m concerned the money you saved was your own.” 

“I want to keep everything honest and aboveboard. I’d feel guilty if I kept it”

“Keep it for now,” I said. “Give it back to me next week if you feel guilt”

“That sounds like a good compromise. I WILL give it back to you, you know.”

“If you do, you do. If you don’t, you don’t. I certainly won’t remind you.”

She waited while I pulled out my chair and sat down before saying “You still owe $100 for completing the exercise, you know. You might as well pay me now so we don’t have to bring it up again. I wouldn’t want you to conveniently ‘forget’ about it later on.” She looked serious but I suspected she was simply playing with me. At any moment I expected her to grin, but she didn’t. I never detected so much as a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as I stood up again.  

I reached into my wallet and handed her five twenties. “You can get dressed now if you like,” I said as she stuffed the $150 dollars into the pocket of her sweatpants.

“I know, but why? It’s not cold in here and I’m comfortable the way I am.”

“Well that’s certainly OK with me. You can probably tell that I have no objections to that at all.” I purposely let my eyes wander over her body as I poured more wine. She loved being looked at and I loved looking. We were both winners. 

“OK, now for some things we need to discuss,” she said. “To begin with do you have a release for me to sign?”

“A what?”

“A model release form. You do have one, don’t you?”

“Of course I do” I said with a straight face, “but I didn’t think we’d need one.”

“You need it if you want to protect yourself. If you don’t have me sign one then I could sue you if you sold any of the tapes or put them on the Internet.” 

“Do we really need that? I’m not a professional as you can probably tell. I’m doing this for fun, not profit. I promise no one will ever see the tapes except me.”

“You’re not a professional photographer?” She seemed genuinely surprised. At least one of the cats that I had sedated was now awake and needed to be dealt with. Hopefully the others wouldn’t awake until I wanted them to.

“Not really. I never even used a video camera before the day of the first interview.”

She started laughing and then took another drink. “No wonder you don’t work in a studio. I thought it was rather strange that a professional photographer would be advertising in a local newspaper, but I’m glad I overlooked the obvious. I suppose I should be pissed off at you, but it’s kind of hard to do since I wasn’t exactly honest either. I’m no more a model than you are a photographer. I’ve never done any professional modeling in my life”

“There was no photo shoot for Hustler?”

“Sorry, there was no photo shoot. I lied about my experience just like you did.”

“So you’ve never had any professional modeling experience. Did you have any NON-professional modeling experiences?”

She was silent for a moment before saying “I refuse to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me.” She smiled enigmatically and took another sip of wine. 

That answer was certainly not what I expected. When Karen had arrived at my door she had been dressed in a tight fitting mini-skirt and her blouse was half open whereas Angel had arrived in a pair of old sweat pants and that stupid looking sweater. Karen had been reluctant to strip naked with the drapes in the front room open and Angel hadn’t seemed to mind at all. Where Karen had acted ‘skittish’ when her boobs had popped out at the bookstore, Angel had helped them escape. Karen had answered my question about her ‘non-professional’ modeling with reluctance and shame, almost as if it were a crime, so I had expected Angel to do the exact opposite and brag about her experience, treating it as a virtue instead of something to be ashamed of.   

“Was it kind of a girlfriend-boyfriend thing?”

“Kind of,” she answered.

“So tell me,” I said with a lecherous smile on my face, “Did he take the pictures of you by yourself or did he mount the camera on a chair and set the timer?”

“You’re a dirty minded old fart, aren’t you? Without going into specifics let’s just say that there were no ‘chairs’ involved but there was definitely something mounted. I’d like to leave it like that if it’s OK with you. That way I won’t have to lie.” 

She was still smiling (perhaps even more than before) and I knew that she wasn’t angered by my attempt at prying into her life. “Fair enough” I said. “I think I can fill in the blanks. Now, as far as the release forms are concerned I’ll leave that up to you. Since we’re both amateurs at this I don’t think they’re needed, but if you want us to sign one I’m agreeable.”

She thought for a minute and then said, “I guess it’s OK to go without them, but if you decide later that you DO want to sell anything I would appreciate you getting my consent.” She drained her glass and handed it to me. I graciously refilled both of our glasses.

“I promise not to sell them and I promise not to share them with anybody, and if I decide I want to break either one of those promises, I promise to ask your permission. Satisfied?

“OK, then on to the next issue. You mentioned that you would be paying all expenses. What expenses are you going to be covering?” 

“I suppose…well, I suppose just about everything that comes up. Food during the day, gas for the car, admission to places we may go, clothes, you name it. When I planned this whole thing I tried to make a budget but there was no way to know specifically how much for what until it came up. Instead, I set aside a certain amount that should be more than enough to cover most everything. I’m not as rich as Bill Gates or Ted Turner, but I’m not exactly poor either. If there’s any expense money left after the shoot is over I’ll be happy, but if have to spend a little more it’s not going hurt me any. Why?”

I was looking directly into her beautiful baby blues eyes as I answered the question and she was looking directly into mine, but when I came to that final word and then paused, she suddenly looked away. “I just want to know in advance whether that does or not cover possible legal fees. I’m still not sure exactly what you want, but from what we did at the bookstore I have a suspicion that somewhere along the line there’s going to be the risk of being arrested. I don’t mind doing whatever it is you want me to do, but I don’t think it would be fair to expect me to pay a fine or to hire a lawyer out of my own pocket. I’m not worried too much about indecent exposure, that’s a simple misdemeanor and if you’re guilty you pay the fine and its over, but an arrest for lewd and lascivious conduct is serious. That can get pretty expensive.” 

After careful consideration I said, “Yeah, I’ll cover whatever happens. I really hadn’t taken that into consideration, but you’re right in thinking it’s not fair. Just out of curiosity, but have you ever been arrested before?”   

“Arrested once and cited once, but I was never found guilty and I never had to pay a fine or go to jail. I decided to fight the indecent exposure charge since I really didn’t think I was guilty. I guess I was right because the judge dropped the charge saying that I should never have been cited since arresting officer was the only one that was a witness to my nudity. Theoretically the officer was there to protect the public and since there was no ‘public’ around there was no crime. As the judge put it ‘If a tree falls in the forest and there’s no one around to hear it does it make a sound?’ The second case was for being ‘lewd and lascivious’ and it was more serious, but the judge, the prosecutor and my public defender all agreed to a ‘nolle prosequi notice’, whatever the hell that is, and the charge was dropped before the trial started.”  I thought of asking her for the specifics, horny man that I was, but I quickly decided not to do so. I did, however, make a mental note to bring the subject up again after we had gotten to know each other better.

“Any close calls?”

She smiled. “You mean like today?”

“No…I mean…never mind I’ll just drop the subject.”

“Well, there was this one time when I….no, I’d better not tell you that one. You might get the right impression of me. Beside, you wanted to drop the subject, so….”

I tried to hide a knowing smile. I had suddenly discovered something about her. She wanted me to beg for the story – which of course I really wanted to hear – but I wasn’t going to fall into the trap. Instead I called her bluff. If she wanted to tell me she would, and if she didn’t, I could always bring up the subject another time.   

“I’m empty. How about you? Are you ready for another glass?”

“Sure, why not?” After filling both glasses we each lit cigarettes and sat facing each other across the table waiting for the other to speak first.  

“When I was in college I was a member of Delta Alpha Epsilon Sorority,” she began, finally breaking the silence, “and in my sophomore year I began sharing the rent of an off campus apartment with Toni, one of my sorority sisters. We still had all the advantages that sorority life gave us but now we had privacy too. Anyway, there was a party being given by Lambda Zeta Chi the night this incident happened and since my roommate and I were each dating Lambda Zeta brothers at the time we were both invited. There were probably a hundred and fifty people at the party, give or take, and between the two of us, Toni and me, we probably knew a hundred of them. There was a lot of alcohol being poured and as the evening progressed more and more people got shit-faced. Both my boyfriend and Toni’s boyfriend drank a lot and were early casualties. I think they had gone to their rooms and passed out, but who knows? All we knew was that they weren’t around anymore.

“Anyway, it was after midnight and about half the people had either gone home or were passed out when a few of us went upstairs to play a friendly game of ‘Truth or Dare’”  I’d played this game before and I knew pretty much what to expect. It was college and we were young and full of hormones so there was a lot of showing of skin and a little groping and confessions of dirty deeds, you know the kind of stuff that goes on, don’t you? At first it was fairly tame. It wasn’t anything we hadn’t done before so it seemed OK at the time, but after we had being playing for about half an hour or so my second turn came up and I had to choose between telling the truth or taking a dare. Like I usually did I chose the dare. I didn’t really know the guy that offered it to me but he must have been aware of my reputation because he immediately dared me to take off all my clothes and run around the block naked.

“At first I was shocked that he would ask for such a thing. This was definitely a quantum leap in terms of the level of the games we’d played before. I was about to tell him no, but the more I thought about it the more I wanted to do it. I’d always seemed to be one step ahead of the other girls and it wouldn’t be all THAT much out of character. Besides, it could only help my reputation. It’s hard for me to say ‘no’ to a dare so I gave in and agreed to do it.

“I don’t think anyone thought I’d actually go through with it, so when I started taking off my clothes Toni got nervous. She tried warning me that it was too dangerous but I was too drunk to give a shit about the consequence of my actions so I didn’t listen. It was in my nature to do silly things like that and what better time to do another? If worst came to worst I could always blame the alcohol, couldn’t I? Besides, I thought that deep down Toni really wanted to see me do it and was only pretending to talk me out of it.

“I figure it was somewhere around one o’clock in the morning when I walked down the stairs and into the living room in my birthday suit. I was a little disappointed that so many of the people had already left the party, but I still received what I thought was just the right mix of stunned silence and boisterous whoops and hollers and whistles from those who were left. I acknowledged their reactions with a simple smile and then opened the front door and walked outside. Most of them followed me onto the porch in order to witness the beginning of my streak, but none of them followed me. 

“The Lambda Zeta Chi Fraternity House wasn’t on Fraternity Row like most of the others. Instead it faced a main thoroughfare and the Row was one street over. The entire block that I was to run around was a long rectangle two lots deep and twelve to fifteen lots wide, and these were older homes built in the early twenties for the well to do, which meant that the lots were not small by any means. I ran at a fairly quick clip to the first corner and as luck would have it no cars had driven by, but by that time I was out of breath and I began to realize the enormity of my challenge. I knew I would have to slow down and conserve energy if I was going to make it the rest of the way without stopping since it was the most dangerous part. 

“Once I’d cleared the corner I was faced with the first of the two short legs of my journey. This was a dark street illuminated only by the lights coming from the houses on the four corners. Since it was completely deserted I decided to stop and catch my breath. There was a large tree near the mid point of the block and I hid behind it while I rested. I suddenly wished I had brought my cigarettes, but I’d left them with my clothes. Nudity does have some drawbacks, you know. 

“Anyway, while I rested I thought about what I was doing and I planned it all out.  First I had to contend with the Row itself. It was after one in the morning, but it was a Friday night and…well, it was a typical Friday night, if you know what I mean. I knew that there would be more than just a few parties going on and I was bound to be noticed. After the row came the busiest of all the streets. Even at this time of night –actually this time of the morning - there were sure to be cars passing by, and to make matters worse there was a 24 hour Denny’s across the street from where I’d be running. If I could make it past that part I would probably be safe since I’d already done the first half of the block with no problems. Half a block and I’d be back at the Frat House. 

I made the decision to conserve most of my energy for the last two legs of the run by simply jogging along the row. I mean, why waste perfectly good energy there? There were always crazy things happening on the row and I would be just one more, wouldn’t I? Besides, if no one saw me then how would it help my reputation? I squatted down behind the tree and took a quick piss, then stepped out of the darkness and walked toward Fraternity row. Unless I saw someone, I thought, why even jog? 

“By the time I reached the corner my heart started beating fast and my hands became sweaty. This was the first time I’d ever done anything quite this daring and I don’t think I realized just how scary it would be. I could see there were a LOT of parties going on, far more than I had expected, and I had to run by them all. I sucked in my stomach as I started jogging. 

I got a lot of whistles and cheers as I ran by the party, which made me a little more comfortable, and I made a point of either waving to them or giving them a big grin. To my great relief no one tried to follow me or grab at me so by the time I came to the next party I was simply walking fast. I was starting to get more comfortable with what I was doing and since I didn’t really mind them seeing me I decided to let them enjoy it as much as I was.

“If I remember right there were five parties along the street and I managed to get past all of them without out any problems, but right before I reached the end of the street I suddenly froze. There was a cop car parked at the corner and it was pointed my way. I turned and tried to run back the way I’d come but it was too late. I heard a short blast of the siren and then saw the spotlight shining on me as I ran. What could I do except stop?




Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 08



“The first thing the cop did after he stepped out of the patrol car was to open the trunk. He took out a blanket and tossed it to me and told me to cover up. After I’d wrapped it around myself he asked how much I’d had to drink, where my clothes were and where I lived. I gave him my address and the apartment number and then explained about the dare and how my clothes were still back at the Fraternity House. All I could tell him about the drinking was to say that it had obviously been enough to make me think that I could get away with it, yet not enough to prevent me from running in a straight line. Even though he didn’t request it I even apologized and promised never to drink again if he’d let me go. He seemed really cool about the whole thing. I mean, he was smiling the whole time and didn’t appear to be all that mad at me or shocked at my behavior. Judging by his demeanor I thought he might let me go with just a warning, but he didn’t. Instead he made me get in the back seat of the patrol car and then he drove me back to the Fraternity House. 

“Anyway, he followed me in and waited while I ran upstairs to get my clothes. I was so scared and confused that once I was upstairs I forgot why I had gone up there in the first place. I just grabbed everything and went downstairs again still covered by the blanket. I was terrified and I felt like crying. I was afraid I might be facing a weekend in jail, a record, a mug shot made showing me from both sides and full frontal, my fingerprints taken, perhaps a de-lousing of my hair and of course a friendly frisking or even a full body search. That last part wouldn’t be so bad, but with my luck I’d probably be assigned to a female officer. Then they’d give me my free phone call and I had no one to call but my parents. They would have to come down and bail me out and I didn’t particularly want to hear another one of their lectures. Oh, why hadn’t I listened to Toni instead of giving in to temptation again? I felt a tears welling up in my eyes.

I was so ashamed of myself that I couldn’t bear to look at anyone, especially Toni, so as I walked across the carpet to where the officer stood with my head down.. I was glad that my boyfriend was still passed out and didn’t have to see me like this. He loved seeing me get naked in front of his friends, but being arrested was a whole different story. He would have broken up with me if I’d have gone to jail. He wanted to be a lawyer and it probably wouldn’t look good if it were known he had been overly friendly with a criminal. I felt so humiliated and perverted that I swore to myself that I would never act that way again.

“As I meekly approached the officer he began lecturing everyone present. In a loud voice he told them that the party was over. He was going to take me back to my apartment and then he would return and check everybody’s I.D. In California you have to be 21 to drink legally, you know, and most of the people at the party were younger than that. The campus police would usually cut some slack on Fraternity Houses and Sororities, especially on Friday and Saturday nights, but he was LAPD and I think everyone knew that he meant business.   

“Anyway, when I heard him say that he was taking me back to the apartment I began to cheer up. If he was going to take me back to the apartment then two things were evident: I wouldn’t be going to jail and he would need his blanket back. I immediately dropped it on the floor and slowly started to put on my clothes. Everybody seemed to enjoy seeing me naked again except the officer. ‘Don’t push your luck, lady,” he said, looking at me with a big scowl on his face. 

“When we got to my apartment building I thought he would walk me to the door and ask if he could come in. I’d heard a lot of stories about how the police would sometimes let a female perp go free in exchange for a piece of ass or a blow job, and I’d really been expecting that. Instead he dropped me off in front of the apartment and drove away. Not only did he not escort me to the door of my apartment, but he didn’t make any propositions either. He didn’t even have the courtesy of helping me out of the car. I guess I couldn’t complain too much since he was letting me go, but it still hurt my feelings.” 

When she was finished she reached over the table and took a cigarette and lit it. She looked at me with those blue, blue eyes and smiled. Her story was obviously over and she was waiting my comments.

“Uhhh…interesting story. Are there any other concerns you have?” I didn’t really know how to respond to her story. What she had just told me spoke volumes and what little else I could discover for now would be redundant. At this point I just wanted all the technicalities worked and out and finished with so we could begin going through the porno magazines and trade ideas. Ellie had been the only girl in my life that had actually enjoyed looking at pornography with me and I remembered how excited it made it her. I wanted to see what effect it would have on Angel.         

“Just s few,” she said as she nodded her head. She paused for a second before saying “I want to make something clear before we make anything final. You’re advertisement said that the work wouldn’t be pornographic and I want to be certain of just what that means. I’m not a prude or anything, but…well, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m NOT going to let you fuck me. I just want to be honest with you before you commit yourself. You still have time to change your mind, you know.” 

I had the urge to laugh, but I was lucky enough to conceal it.. My impotence was one of those cats that I had sedated and, for the time being at least, I didn’t want to awaken it. It was ironic that while Karen WANTED me to fuck her, I was instead going to hire a girl who WOULDN’T! Most men my age would have done the exact opposite, but then again most men my age weren’t impotent. At least as far as I knew.

“I’m interested in the tapes we’ll be making and I thought I’d made it perfectly clear in the advertisement that sex wasn’t required. Karen, the girl that interviewed with me this morning, offered herself to me and I turned her down. If you had offered yourself to me like she did I would have turned you down too. Out of curiosity, though, I’d like to know why? Do you have any sexually transmitted diseases?” 

It could have been sudden anger on her part, or perhaps hurt feelings, but her face fell and she snapped back. “No! I’m perfectly clean and healthy.”

“Are you a lesbian?”

“No to that question as well. You saw how I acted around the men in the bookstore. Do you think for one minute that I could have gotten that excited if I were a lesbian? I’ve had a few experiences with women, of course, but who hasn’t?”

Of course? It wasn’t so much what she was admitting that shocked me as it was the inclusion of that two word phrase. I had always been tolerant of other people’s sexual kinks and quirks, but by using the phrase ‘of course’ she was indicating that she considered lesbianism as normal. It was as if she didn’t want me to think poorly of her for being one hundred percent heterosexual. By simply asking a stupid question I had stumbled onto another truth about her. I suspected that she’d had a relationship with Toni, the Sorority sister that she shared the apartment with, but I wasn’t going to ask.    

“You’re….you’re not a virgin are you?” She immediately burst out laughing. She tried controlling herself by finishing off the rest of her wine and then pushing her glass toward me. Obviously she wanted more. 

As I refilled the glasses she said. “No offense, but I can’t believe you asked such a dumb, stupid question. When we were at the bookstore and you stuck your finger inside me did you feel a hymen?”

“No, but if you remember right I only got my finger in a short distance before you pulled it out.” This caused her to break out in laughter again.  

I know this sounds incredibly shallow on my part, but I was on the verge of being angry. Its one thing to laugh when you find something funny to laugh at, but it’s quite another to laugh at the expense of another and I thought she was close to crossing that line. I had committed a faux pas, but that didn’t give her the right to laugh at me. 

“Where’s your bathroom?” she asked between her periods of laughter. “I’ve got to get there quick or I’m going to pee all over the chair.” I pointed to the hallway and told her it was the first door on the right. Still giggling uncontrollably she stood up and raced naked down hallway. 

**********

It was a full five minutes before I heard the sound of a flushing toilet and saw the door open. There was a smile on her face but at least she had stopped laughing.

“I’m sorry I laughed,” were the first words that came out of her mouth, “but it just struck me funny at the time. I was laughing at the situation and not at you. You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

“There’s nothing to forgive” I said with complete sincerity. All thoughts of anger were suddenly erased with her apology. It was almost as if she had read my mind. “It was a stupid question and I wish I hadn’t asked it.”

“No, it was a perfectly logical question to ask. I love sex and I can’t think of a better feeling in the whole world than having a stiff cock inside me, but loving sex doesn’t make me a whore. If we’re going to be engaged in doing the things I THINK we’re going to be doing for the next month or so I don’t want get let fucking get in the way. I want to be able to say that I earned it in the right way, if you know what I mean. If I let you fuck me I know that I’d eventually start thinking that I was just being your whore instead of your model. Do you understand?”

“Under NO circumstances would I expect you or anyone else to have sex with me for money. I’ve never solicited sex from a prostitute and I never would. The main reason I worded the advertisement the way I did was to let every prospective applicant know EXACTLY where I was coming from.” 

“But that just brings up another question. Karen read the same advertisement that I did. She knew that sex wasn’t a requirement for getting the job just like I did. She asked you, not the other way around.. SHE wanted to fuck and YOU refused HER. Why in the world would you pass up a free piece of ass?”        “Huh?”

“You heard me. Why would you have declined a free fuck? I can understand why you worded the advertisement the way you did, and I can understand why you’ve never paid for sex and I can understand why you wouldn’t want to put the moves on either Karen or me, but she WANTED to be fucked. Why did you turn her down?” 

I could have slapped myself for being so stupid. I had a bad feeling over how this was going to turn out. I didn’t know what to say so I just sat there looking at her with what I knew was a vacant smile.

“Do YOU have any diseases?”

“Yes, I have emphysema. But that’s not what you meant, was it? No, I don’t have AIDS or syphilis of gonorrhea. I’ve never had the displeasure of crabs or genital warts either. The closest I’ve come to having a sexually transmitted disease was in high school when I contracted mononucleosis, but since I’d never kissed a girl at that point in my life I probably picked it up from a toilet seat.” 

“Are you gay?”

“You’ve got to be kidding? I’m almost sixty years old and I was married to wife Helen for twenty seven years. During that time I never cheated on her. I admit I masturbated occasionally and frequently had lust in my heart but that lust was never about another man.”

“Are you impotent?”

Bingo! I had been afraid from her very first question that she wouldn’t stop until she knew the truth. She wouldn’t fuck me, no, but she damn well wanted to know that I found her fuckable. I had accidentally gored my own ox when I began this line of enquiry and I had no one to blame but myself. 

After a moments pause I admitted to her that yes, I was impotent. 

Now that another cat had awakened and the truth had been revealed I needed to listen to endless condolences. She apologized profusely over and over and over again for asking me that question. Had I just admitted to having a sexually transmitted disease or being gay she wouldn’t have been so condescending, but it was too late to go back and amend my answers. I was stuck with the truth and I had to live with it. 

I began explaining how emphysema works and how some of the drugs that I was taking made me impotent. There was more to it than that, of course, but I’d rather blame the drugs than take responsibility for my own condition. That, in turn, led to a history of my smoking, the circumstances of Helen’s death, and the guilt I felt over having been responsible for her addiction. I should have stopped there, but instead I continued. I told her about the years when Helen had denied me sex, which meant I had to tell her about the night she’d gone wild, the fantasy couple who I had seen in the bar, my short lived relationship with Ellie and finally about my mother and the succession of my temporary uncles. By the time I had finished I had told her my entire life’s story. The only thing I consciously omitted was the unexplained erection on the drive back from the bookstore. Since she wasn’t going to fuck me anyway, I saw no reason to bring that up. 

“I’m sorry I bored you with all that,” I said when I finally finished. “I don’t usually go into so much detail. I guess I just wanted to get it off my chest.” 

“It’s OK. I didn’t mind. I find it refreshing when I hear someone tell the story of their life with so much honesty. Most people brag too much,, but you’re different. After listening to you I think I’ll be more honest when I tell you mine. I’m sure that at least once during my employment there will come a time when I’ll be in the mood to get something off my chest too, so just remember that when it comes – IF it comes - don’t get pissed off or bored or anything.”

I looked down at her bare tits and then grinned. “You have to put something ON your chest in order to take it OFF,” I said. In my mind I was writing another note to myself. The note read “Remember to ask for the story of her life” 

**********

While Angel spread the magazines in front of her on the table I opened another bottle of wine and filled both our glasses. I sat the bottle on the table nearer to her than to me; I was already feeling the effects and decided that this would be the last glass for me. And if this glass WASN”T the last then the next one would be. 

For sure.   

“I’ve been dying to see what’s inside “Sex in Public” ever since we left the store. Can we look through that one first?” Before I could answer she quickly bit into the protective cellophane wrapping and ripped it off. As she spit it out she said, “I hope the pictures on the inside are as hot as the one on the cover.”

I’ve always been hesitant in using vulgar language around women – No doubt a result of growing up in the forties and fifties - but the wine had loosened me up enough that I wasn’t above some thinly veiled sexual innuendos. “You do a pretty good number with your teeth,” I quipped, pointing at the torn cellophane she had spit out. “Have you ever hurt anybody?”

“If you keep coming up with double entendres like that I may start to like you.”

“You don’t like me now?”

“Yeah, I like you, but I’d like you better if you weren’t so shy. You seem awfully strait laced for someone who advertises in the newspaper for naked girls.”

“I’m not straight laced.” I said. “Inside my head I’m just as dirty minded as you are.” 

“Really? Then prove it. Show me your dick.”

“Are you kidding me?” I shot back. I was shocked that she would ask that.. The wine had loosened me up, yes, but not to the extent that I would do that. There was no way I was going to simply unzip my pants and let her see the flaccid little worm that hung helplessly between my legs. Helen had trained me well, and the residuals of that training still haunted me. A prelude to lovemaking always meant a hug and a kiss, followed by my hands cupped over her breasts or her derriere, but only AFTER the hug and the kiss, and THEN only when she had responded favorably. One thing needed to be followed by another and I always feared taking things out of order, or hurrying too much, or making any of the other mistakes that I was always prone to make. It was a ritual and there was little room for spontaneity. Only after the ritual was completed was I allowed to make love to her. God help me if I had ever started by simply unzipping my pants and waving my dick at her! 

I’m exaggerating, of course, but the truth wasn’t far off. Helen rarely enjoyed spontaneity, and she wasn’t particularly fond of experimentation either. She did enjoy sex, or at least I think she did, but only in certain positions and only when no one was home and she felt safe. Ironically we both thought that sex was ‘dirty and nasty’ The differences was that I embraced the nastiness of it all while she refused to give in to animal side. In short, she enjoyed making love while I enjoyed fucking, and while the ends might seem the same, the means were quite different. I guess you could say that we both enjoyed orgasms, but the ways of achieving it were on completely different ends of the bell shaped curve.   

“So let me see your dick,” she said again.

”No,” I said, as I took a huge gulp of my wine.

“No? So let me get this straight, you expect me to get naked whenever and wherever you ask me to, and you’re not willing to do the same for me?”

“There are a couple of big differences. In the first place I’m your employer and I’m paying you to do it. I should also remind you that you’re young, sexy, and female while I’m old, shriveled, and male. Men are considered perverts when they take off their clothes and show their bodies while women who do the same thing are considered sexually liberated and get a lot of job offers. It’s a cultural thing.”

“In that case I’m glad I told you that you couldn’t fuck me. If we did fuck you’d probably want to do it in bed with the lights turned off and the covers pulled up to our chins.”

“With the exception of Ellie, who I’ve already told you about, and the few times that Helen would allow it, that’s pretty much the way it’s been, but let’s not fight. OK? Why don’t you open up the magazine and see what’s inside. Maybe we can get some good ideas.” I wanted to defuse the situation before it got out of hand. I was afraid that if it continued the way it was going she’d eventually ask me to show her my dick again, and I wasn’t going to do that unless by some miracle I got another erection.    

“It’s not as good inside as it is on the cover,” she said with a disappointed look when she finished flipping through the pages. “There’s nothing in here with the girl and the guy at the Marina. Most of the pictures were taken outside but only a few are really in public. Most of them seem to be taken on deserted beaches and in secluded places where no one could see them. The only ones that are really in public is this set that was taken on a balcony.” She passed the magazine across the table to me and then took another drink of her wine. 

The pictures were of a couple in what looked to be mid twenties, and they both had perfect bodies. They were on a hotel room balcony perhaps six floors from the ground. It was daytime and they were both completely naked. The iron bars that walled the perimeter of the balcony were spaced wide enough apart that the heavy traffic on the boulevard below couldn’t help but see them if they had been looking up. The balcony was decorated with a glass topped patio table with two chairs and a large furry rug on the cement floor with two matching throw pillows. The photos were of them having sex in a variety of sexual positions, the most daring of which was of her bent over the balcony and waving to the cars below while he pumped into her from behind. They were all extremely explicit.




Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 08



I finished my wine and then filled both of our glasses before saying, “Those ARE good photographs” I said as I studied at each of the ten photographs in the set. 

“So, what are they doing?” 

“What do you mean? You saw the pictures first. You know exactly what they’re doing.”

“I know, but describe it to me.”

“Well, there’s a naked couple making love on the balcony and there are lots of cars passing on the street below. If anyone happened to look up they would see them.”

“Describe the positions they’re in.” 

“Well, in this one she’s…..” Suddenly I realized what she was attempting to do. I had to smile. “Well, in this one she’s being FUCKED from behind. Her TITS are hanging over the railing and his COCK is in her CUNT. Everyone below can see them. In this he’s fucking her in the ass and the last one shows her with cum all over her face. Now, does it make you happy to know you got me to use those words?” I raised the glass to my mouth and took a long swig of wine.

“It makes me extremely happy. It’s a milestone in our relationship and a personal achievement on my part. Since I walked in the door this morning I think these are the first ‘dirty’ words you’ve used.”

“That’s OK, you more than made up for it. You’re a real gutter mouth you know”

“Thank you. It’s nice to know my vocabulary is appreciated. You can go back to your G rated words now if you want and I’ll continue with the X rated ones. I’m satisfied for now just getting you to say ‘fuck’.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” I said over and over again until I ran out of breath. “I’m not as straight laced as you think I was…I mean, as straight laced as I am, not as I mean…..”

I stopped and took another sip of wine. “I’m sorry those words tangled up but I think I untangled them right in time, right?” It was the first sign that perhaps I really had drank more than enough.

“OK, Tom,” she said with a knowing smile, “say ‘she sells sea shells at the sea shore’ three times.”  “Sure. I’m not drunk as much as you think I am.”  No more wine for me. No more, no more, no more.

“Say it.”

“She sells she shells at the she shores…uh, no wait…no. .She shores see….oops. Let me try one more time, OK? SHE…SELLS….SEA…SHELLS….DOWN…..  BY….THE….FUCKING…SEA…SHORE.” I paused and then added, “Now, are you satisfied?”

“I’m satisfied,” she said with a big grin on her face. “You didn’t say it three times but it served it purpose. Now that you’re drunk can I see your dick?”

“Hell no! I may be loose enough to let you down my guard a bit little but I’m not quite stupid yet. If you were to see my dick you’d probably throw up and then quit.”

“Who said anything about quitting?”

“Well, I just…Oh, never mind.”

We sat there for a while looking into each others eyes. Our twenty days hadn’t even started yet it felt like we were already bonding. Once she helped me break down the broken through the language barrier things seemed to fall into place. We communicated better and I wasn’t so uptight around her. It made things a lot easier. Sometime soon – maybe tomorrow – I’d have the nerve to show her my dick.

And if not tomorrow, then definitely the day after that.

**********

As we looked through the magazines I found that Angel had a more critical eye, more attuned to the artistic merit of the shot, while I practiced my new found freedom and commented solely on the content of the pictures. As we traded the magazines back and forth we began to see the similarities and the differences in our tastes. Both of us agreed that the most erotic were those that were taken in public settings but we disagreed on the explicitness displayed. Her tastes were definitely more hard-core than mine.    We had just finished the last of the wine when I looked at my watch and noticed that it was after 7 o’clock. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry. We can go out to eat if you want, or I can order us a pizza.” 

“Pizza sounds good,” she said, “I don’t particularly want to get dressed and go out to eat. Just make sure that it doesn’t have anchovies.” She picked up another magazine and began biting into the cellophane again.  

After calling the pizza parlor I returned to the table and moved my chair to her side of the table. “Why keep passing the magazine back and forth?” I said in way of explanation.  

“You just want to see more of my pussy, don’t you? You men are so obvious.”

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” I said with a big grin on my face.  

I sat next to her and stared down at the fine blonde hairs between her legs. She knew what I wanted and she slowly moved her moved her knees apart. “So, is that better?” 

“Why not take advantage of the opportunity?” I said in defense of myself. “It’s not often that I’ve had a naked girl spreading her pussy open in my kitchen. Just remember, it was you that wanted to stay naked. I told you that you could get dressed at any time, remember?”

“You would have been pissed off if I had. Admit it.”  

“I wouldn’t have been pissed off. I would have been disappointed, yes, but not pissed off. Would you like some more wine?

She paused for a moment and then said, “If we have more wine I’ll be too drunk to drive home”

“So spend the night here. That way we can get an early start tomorrow.”

“And where would I sleep?”

“My bed is king sized and it’s big enough for two, but if you’d prefer I could make up the bed in the spare room.”

“Can I make a phone call first? For safety reasons I gave my neighbor your name, address, and phone number before I came over this morning. I told her that if I didn’t call by dark to start worrying.”  

I pointed to the phone that was hanging near the stove. She made her call while I opened the third bottle of the evening. “Here’s to your getting drunk,” I said as she sat down beside me again.

“And here’s to you staring at my pussy,” she responded as she touched her glass to mine and spread her legs apart again.. 

TO BE CONTINUED…..         



Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 09



I had opened a third bottle of wine and we were working on our second glass when I heard the doorbell ring. “Ta ta!” I announced, “I thinkith our pizza hath arrived.” I stood and reached for my wallet.

“Do you want me to answer the door?” Angel was smiling and there was a glazed look in her eyes.

“You’re not dressed,” I reminded her. “You can’t open the door.”

“You think you’re the only one that likes looking at pussy? I bet you that the pizza man would like seeing me open the door.”

“I…I don’t think that…You can’t just…” Ding dong! DING Dong!  I took another look at her nakedness and shook my head. I turned and hurried to the door. 

We had both been drinking on empty stomachs and we were both feeling the effects of the wine. Since I had decided to slow down a little after the first bottle, Angel was now more inebriated than me. Given the level of her intoxication and her exhibitionistic nature was it any wonder that she wanted to answer the door?  

“I’m sorry I’m late,” the pizza man said as I greeted him. He was dressed in a pair of bright red pants, a shirt that was pinker than the inside of Angel’s pussy, a dark purple cap on the top of his head that said “Papa’s Pizza” in bold green letters, and a sickly yellow bowtie with the name “BOB” emblazed on it in blue. He looked more like a clown than a pizza man.

“You’re forgiven, Bob,” I said with as straight a face as I could muster considering my condition. “Or would you prefer I call you Bobby?” 

“You can call whatever you want as long as it’s not Bozo,” he said in a voice that led me to conclude that I wasn’t the only one who compared to a clown. He must have been aware of how ridiculous he looked.

The moment I opened the wallet I remembered that all I had in it was two one hundred dollar bills. “I hope you have change for this Whateveryouwant” I said as I opened the wallet and took out one of the $100 bills. 

“Huh?”

“Never mind. It was just a joke. Can you break this?”  I tried handing him the money. 

“Not for that,” he answered when he saw what it was. “Don’t you have any other cash around? How about a check? We’re not supposed to take them but if you’ve got some ID I’ll make an exception.”

“I’ve got it,” I heard Angel shout from the kitchen. “I’ll bring it out as soon as I put something on.”

Before I’d even had a chance to respond she entered the room. She wasn’t naked like I had feared, but she wasn’t fully dressed either. She was wearing the formless sweater she had worn for the interview, and given the swiftness of her entrance it was obvious that she had already put it on prior to her announcement. It just barely long enough to cover her, and since I didn’t see any evidence of the shorts she hanging out from beneath the sweater I assumed she was naked from the waist down.  

“It comes to $18.40,” he said as she approached. Standing beside me she handed him a twenty and I suddenly saw his eyes widen and begin to dart around the room. My assumption had just been proven right.

“It doesn’t have any anchovies on it, does it?” she asked as she waited for him to take the money. “I specifically asked for no anchovies.”

She was standing close enough to him now that I doubted he could still see what he must have seen when she raised her hand to give him the money, but he seemed embarrassed and couldn’t seem to bring himself to face her directly. “I…uhhh…I don’t know. All I do is deliver them.” He took the twenty and handed her the pizza.

“Skip the change,” Angel told him. “In fact, I’ll give you another five dollars as long as there ain’t no fuckin’ anchovies on it.” She’d had a lot to drink – and she was definitely drunk – but I could tell that she was making herself appear drunker than she really was. People can expect a certain amount of unacceptable behavior from someone who’d inebriated and I realized that Angel was using that knowledge to her advantage.

She knelt and placed the pizza box on the floor. With one knee on the carpet and the other used for balance she was completely ‘open’ below and I saw Bob’s eyes pop out of his head. “Oh, Goody!” she squealed as she open the lid. “No fuckin’ anchovies!” 

She was doing her best to imitate Betty Boop’s sing-song voice - and she was doing a pretty good job of it, too - but Bob seemed to be oblivious to what she was saying or how she was saying it. Once she had knelt in front of him his eyes had zeroed in on the fuzzy patch of fur between her legs (not to mention the pink patch that was dead center in the middle of the fur) and he was lost. No further audio input was being received.

She tore of a hunk of melted cheese covered with pepperoni and pineapple then tossed her head back and dropped it into her mouth. As she began to savor the flavor she looked up and noticed where Bob’s eyes were pointed. “Oops!” she said with a giggly voice as she quickly closed the pizza box and modestly covered her exposed cunt with the palm of her hand. “I guess I forgot to put on my panties. I didn’t mean for you to see my pu…uhh… see that much. I certainly hope you don’t think I did it on purpose.”

“I…Well, I…I couldn’t help it, but…but I guess I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have stared.”

I had to suppress a chuckle. She dropped her other knee down to the floor and tugged the sweatshirt down as far as she could, but since the sweatshirt didn’t cover all that much Bob stayed where he was and continued to stare. 

Like she had done at the bookstore she was entering the world of polite deniability, and he seemed to buy it. She was obviously putting on a show for him and it was obvious he was enjoying it, but as long as she pretended her exposure was accidental and he pretended to believe her then there was neither a foul nor a penalty. He knew, of course, that she was lying through her teeth, and she knew by the shape his red pants had taken that he had a boner but everything was OK as long as nothing was verbalized. To put it other words, he knew that she knew that he knew that she was showing herself on purpose and she knew that he knew that she knew he had an erection, but as long as neither one of them acted upon their knowledge of the others knowledge and as long as they both continued to pretend that the other WASN’T pretending then everything was OK. I would have been hard pressed to keep it all straight had I been sober, but since I wasn’t I didn’t even try. 

“No, you have nothing to sorry about. You did what any other man I know would do in the same situation,” she said in an attempt to not only mollify him but to encourage him to be like the ‘other men she knew’. She turned to me and, with the hand that wasn’t keeping the sweatshirt pulled down over her cunt, hit me on the leg. “It’s all your fault, asshole! You should have told me I didn’t have my panties on. Thanks to you he’s seen my pussy.”

It took my alcohol-blotted brain a few seconds to decode what she had said, but once it had I was surprised at how quickly I ran through my options. In the space of three seconds – give or take – I remembered her comment that I was too ‘straight laced’ and decided that I might as well dispel that notion once and for all. Due to my attempt at being a gentleman she thought of me as a retiring little milquetoast and if I was going to make a mistake now I would make the mistake on the side that proved I was NOT what she thought. She was pretending to be drunker than she was so I decided to do the same. What the hell, drunks can get away with a lot of shit that sober people can’t, and since she was doing it I might as well join her.

“Why should I have told you THAT? I like looking at your pussy and if I told you that it was showing you’d cover it up right away. Besides, I wanted to see what you’d do when you realized he could see it too.” I knew the logic was somewhat faulty but since we were both pretending I didn’t think it would make much difference.

Angel tried looking embarrassed, but when she started giggling she gave up the pretense. “Did you ever stop to think that he might not be a pussy hound like you? For all you know he might EVEN be a gentleman.” She stood up again and in the process gave Bob and me another unobstructed view of her private area. “There,” she said after she had pulled the bottom of the sweater down as far again. “Now I’m at least semi modest. I apologize for being so fuckin’ careless.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he said with a slightly embarrassed tone in his voice.. “It’s not everyday that I get to see a woman’s…uhh. ..a woman that’s as beautiful and as sexy as you.”

Angel turned her eyes to me and said, “I told you he was a gentleman. There’s not that many of them left, you know.” She quickly extended her hand to him and as he shook it she stuck her tongue out at me. Wisely I didn’t mention that the hand she had presented to him was the same hand she had been using to pull the sweater down and that she was once again showing him her pussy. 

As she finished shaking his hand she suddenly realized her error.  “Ooops,” she giggled as she pulled the sweater down once again. After making sure she was sufficiently covered to qualify for her definition of deniability she made our introductions. “I’m Angel and this is my friend Tom. I hate to admit it to you but we’re both a little drunk. Can you excuse me for just a minute? It seems that I need to slip into something a little less comfortable if I’m going to maintain my modesty. I’ll be right back.” She turned and wobbled back into the kitchen, her cute little butt peeking out at us from beneath the sweater with every step she took.

**********

It took her less than a minute to do what she had to do and return. She had traded her sweatshirt for the same cutoffs and the white shirt she had worn to the bookstore and she was carrying an unopened bottle of wine and three glasses. Her shirttails were hanging outside the cutoffs and out of modesty she had buttoned the middle button of the shirt. Were it not for the severe slices up the side of her shorts, the numerous rips and tears in the material that let her bare skin show though, the razor thin strip of denim between her legs that was so loose that it didn’t even touch her body, and the six UN-buttoned buttons she would have looked almost modest.

“Do you have any more deliveries to make?” Angel asked as she handed Bob one of the glasses.

“No, but I’m on call. I live only a few blocks from the pizza parlor and whenever there’s a delivery the owner calls me on my cell phone and I pick it up and deliver it. Unless he calls me I’m usually at home watching TV or reading.”

“Good. Take off your shoes stay awhile” 

I unscrewed the cap on the wine bottle and filled all the glasses. Once the obligatory ‘toast’ was toasted we each took a drink after which Angel sat down on the floor Indian style and waited for us to join her. I sat next to Angel and Bob took his seat across from us, his eyes staring directly at the juncture between her crossed legs. From the position I was in I could easily see Angel’s soft, curly pubic hair peeking its way through the gap between her skin and the denim, and I was pretty sure that from his vantage point Bob could see even more. With her legs crossed as they were the thin strap of loose material was the only thing covering her cunt and since her cunt was wider than the strap I had to assume that he could see everything. Were it not for the wine she had brought back she could have simply left the sweater on and saved herself the trip to the kitchen. For all intents and purposes he could see as much now as he had before. Probably more.

Angel opened the pizza box, and after helping herself to a slice she passed it to Bob and invited him to help himself. She couldn’t help but notice where his eyes were focused and I couldn’t help but notice the smile on her face. 

“Thanks,” he said as he forced his eyes to look away for a moment. He seemed somewhat more relaxed and confident in his manner now than before. Instead of immediately returning his gaze to her crotch he now looked into her eyes and was smiling back at her. No one spoke. In silence we ate our pizza and drank our wine.

There are some silences that are unnerving, confusing and unbearable, almost as if the silence was a sign of boredom, of having nothing to say, or, if having something to say, not knowing how to phrase it. Or, worse yet, knowing what you want to say but being afraid to say it for fear of rejection, ridicule, jealousy or anger.  

The silence here was not in the same category. The silence here, among other things, seemed welcome, almost as if there was an aura of excitement, a premonition of things to come, an anticipation of what would happen next, and how it would happen. Instead of having nothing to say, we were each, in our own way, preparing not only what we would say, but how we would say it, and how the other two would react to what we said, and how we would react to their reactions. I was pretty sure that we all wanted the same thing, or a least a fairly close facsimile, and it was only a matter of who would speak first. Once spoken the dominos would start to fall and they would continue to fall until someone pulled out a domino and stopped their flow. I seriously doubted that Angel, ever the exhibitionist, or Bob, who was now staring at the gap in Angel’s shorts again, would do anything to stop the dominoes, and since I had already promised myself not to give in to paranoia again I was ready for whatever happened. All that was needed now was for someone to take charge and say the words that would knock over the first domino.  

Perhaps it was fitting and proper that it was Angel that broke the silence. Since she was the catalyst in this little game of ours she proudly took the role as instigator and gave us the encouragement and the permission to follow her lead. It was like she was the Queen and Bob and I were merely her pawns.    “Like I said earlier,” she began, “Tom and I are friends.” She paused long enough to take another sip of wine and another bite of pizza and then continued. “He’s a photographer and I sometimes model for him. He was taking photos of me when you came to the door.”  

There was a pregnant pause while she waited for Bob to respond. She was staring directly into his eyes and he was forced to stare back. Everything was quiet and there seemed to be an electric charge in the air. She finally broke eye contact with him and when she did I saw his eyes immediately drop to her open legs again. When she looked back she caught him looking again.

“You’re really a good looking man, Bob. I’m glad that you didn’t have the right change ‘cause if you had I wouldn’t have got to meet you. Tom wouldn’t let me open the door when you came ‘cause he was taking pictures of me at the time.” She took another sip of wine and then she giggled. “I kinda wish now he would have let me. It would have been fun to see the look on your face if I had opened the door bare-ass naked.”   

“I can go outside and ring again,” he suggested.

“It’s a little too late for that. It wouldn’t be much of a surprise, now would it?”

“I can pretend to be surprised.”

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t be spontaneous. I like things to be spontaneous.”

Bob gave a disappointed-sounding laugh and then held out his wine glass. “In that case, let’s have a toast to what I missed.”

“And to spontaneity,” Angel added with a wicked smile as they clinked their glasses together.

There were a few more moments of silence while Angel studied Bob’s face and Bob studied Angel’s crotch. “I’d let you see the pictures Tom took of me,” she said, breaking the silence, “but we weren’t taking Polaroid’s. They’re all inside the camera where you can’t see them yet.” She suddenly uncrossed her legs and laid back on the floor with her legs out in front of her. She was laughing and her whole body shook. “That’s funny. The pictures of my box are inside a box so you can’t see my box.” I didn’t have the nerve to tell her that the way she was now spread out on the floor made her little joke an oxymoron. 

“If you don’t mind I’m goin’ to lay here for a while” she said. “I’m startin’ to get woozy and I certainly don’t want to pass out and miss anything.” She stretched herself out on the floor and brought her knees up. She began tossing her head from side to side on the carpet, giggling all the while and carelessly (or purposely) opening and closing her knees. She was either an extremely good actress or more intoxicated than I had suspected. It was one of the two but I couldn’t decide which was which and in what degree.

Bob was too busy staring at the open gash between her legs to pay any attention to my presence, so I did exactly what every other man in my position would do; I lit a cigarette, took another drink of wine, and waited to see what would happen next.

**********

I had just put out my cigarette when Angel ‘woke up’ and rejoined the land of the living. She slowly raised her head and then supported her upper body by resting herself on her elbows. When she spread her knees apart she saw that Bob’s eyes were still staring at her cunt. She giggled and then turned and looked at me, saying “I’m not very ladylike, am I? I’m drunker than hell and I’m letting a fuckin’ CLOWN look at pussy. I’m so ashamed of myself that I could die.”

She started laughing again, then closed her eyes and rolled her head from side to side. Her knees kept opening and closing, opening and closing, opening and closing, giving him an unobstructed view one moment and taking it away the next. Her right nipple had now escaped from beneath her shirt and the left was ready to follow, but he was so intent on seeing the peek-a-booing of her cunt that it was questionable as to whether he was even aware of their presence. 

When she opened her eyes and caught him still looking at her cunt she said, “Don’t you ever give it a rest?”  

As if suddenly snapped out of a hypnotic trance he looked at her and said “Huh?” 

“I said, ‘don’t you ever give it a rest?’ It seems like you’ve been looking at my pussy ever since I walked into the room. Haven’t you grown tired of it yet?” She suddenly noticed the exposed nipple and with casual indifference reached down and pushed it back into place.

“I got the impression that you didn’t care if I looked.” he countered with a shallow smile.

Angel laughed and replied, “Actually, I don’t, but it seems kinda creepy when that’s all you’re interested in. It’s only a pussy, you know.”

“I certainly don’t want you to think I’m ‘creepy’ but I figure I might as well fill as much as I can into my memory banks while I can still see it. It’s not as if this is something that happens every day.”

“Has it ever happened before?” 

“Once,” he answered, “but she weighed about three hundred pounds and must have been in her mid-fifties. It’s not something I want to remember.” 

Angel set her glass on the floor and then rolled over and picked up the wine bottle. His eyes fastened on her delectable derriere as she poured herself more wine. The strap between her legs hid her ass just as effectively as it hid her cunt.

Once she sat up and was facing him again she said, “I weigh one hundred and twenty five pounds and I’m twenty nine years old. Are you going to remember me?” Her feet were planted at least two feet apart and she was looking at him from above her parted knees. She was bent forward and supporting herself by having both elbows on her knees, holding her recently filled wine glass in one hand. She was smiling and looking directly into at him through bloodshot eyes when he answered, “Oh, yes, YOU I will definitely remember!”

“Mmmm, Thank you,” she purred. “Since you were so nice to say that, I give you my permission to stare at my pussy again.”   

Whether it was planned or whether it was an accident I couldn’t tell, but the minute his eyes left her face and looked down at her furry patch again, her elbow – or perhaps both elbows – slipped and the nearly full glass of wine was gone for good..




Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 09



“OH SHIT!” she yelled out loudly as she rolled over and then stood up. The wine was everywhere and her clothes were soaked. Her left nipple had popped out again and the wine had wetted the shirt to the degree that her right one was almost as visible.  

“Its white wine,” I tried pointing out, “I doubt if it’s going to stain anything.”

“Maybe not, but in the meanwhile it’s cold as hell.” Without looking at either Bob or me she unbuttoned the solitary button that held her shirt together and stripped it off. “Take this and toss it in the washer, will you? Oh, and when you come back bring me a wet washcloth and a towel too.

I was about the take the shirt from her when she began unbuttoning her shorts. “You might as well take these too. They’re just as wet as my shirt, and since he’s already acquainted with my pussy it’s no big deal.”

As I left the room with the wet clothing I overheard her say to Bob, “I hope you don’t think that I spilled the wine on purpose just so I had an excuse for getting naked.”

********** 

After putting her clothes in the washer I grabbed a towel and washcloth from the bathroom and hurried back to the living room. As you might expect, I was anxious to see what had transpired since my departure.  

Upon entering I found I was both disappointed and relieved. The only thing that had changed, or so it seemed, was that the wine bottle wasn’t quite as full as it had been and the glasses were fuller. Angel was still naked and Bob was still in his clown suit and staring at her cunt and the pizza box was still sitting on the floor between the two of them. 

“You’d better slow down a little with the wine,” I told Angel. “There’s only two more bottles left and both of them are warm.” 

I said this in a joking manner, but Angel didn’t pick up on the humor. “So? Put ‘em in the fuckin’ freezer. They should be cooled by the time we get around to opening them.” She kept amazing me with the vast amount of vulgarity in her speech. With the exception of Ellie she was the only woman I’d met that used gutter English with such frequency.  

“I see that Bob is still obsessed with your cunt,” I said as I sat beside her and took a drink out of my recently filled glass. I was determined to keep up with her, drink for drink and vulgarity for vulgarity, until she decided to quit or the wine made me puke.  

“I think you’re right,” she said enigmatically, ‘but that might change soon” 

She lit a cigarette and took another drink of wine before she turned her attentions back to Bob. “Do you know what ‘Quid pro quo’ means?” she asked. I didn’t know where this was going, but I could tell that for the first time she actually seemed nervous. 

“Of course,” he answered. “I’ve seen ‘Silence of the Lambs’ three times.’” 

“Well, it’s too late for me to make a true ‘tit for tat,” but I’ll make you a proposition. Remember earlier when I said that you couldn’t see the pictures that Tom took of me because they were in the camera? Well, taking more isn’t possible because he’s out of film, but he does have a video camera upstairs that he bought last week and he’s been anxious to try it out. My proposition is that if you take off that silly clown suit I’ll give you a naked lap dance. I won’t let you fuck me, but that still leaves a lot to the imagination, doesn’t it” 

“You mean you want me to…”

“Yes, I do.”

Bob looked at me – I suppose to see my reaction to her suggestion – and when I didn’t say anything he turned his attention back to her.

“The tape,” he began in a broken voice, “what’s going to happen to the tape?”

“Don’t worry, just relax. Nobody’s going to see it but us.”

“But how do I know that it won’t be…be…you know, be used to…”  

“We’re certainly not going to blackmail you or anything,” she said, seemingly surprised. “In your wildest dream do you really believe we’d try to blackmail a fuckin’ clown who delivers Pizza?” 

“I guess not, but…”

“But what? It’s a simple yes or no. Either you want to do it or you don’t. Say yes and you can have an experience you’ll remember for a lifetime; say no and I’ll get dressed and you can go home and watch TV. What’s it going be, Bozo?”

**********                                      

I think he still had qualms about doing what might very well come back to bite him in the ass, but the lure of her luscious body was too tempting.  How could anyone resist Angel after they’d seen her naked? Still apprehensive he agreed to the terms with the caveat that I appear in the video as well. Being somewhat homophobic I didn’t particularly want Bob to see me nude, and being somewhat embarrassed over what I expected to be a limp appendage, I didn’t want Angel to see me nude either. As my excuse, I explained that I couldn’t very well tape the encounter and be a participant at the same time. I agreed, however, to show my face by way of reflections in the mirror from time to time. He seemed satisfied with the compromise and I went upstairs to get the camera. Angel seemed overjoyed with the prospect of finally seeing a dick, but she promised to wait until I had returned back with the recorder before it made its grand debut.  

As I ejected the audition tape and loaded in a blank I starting having second thoughts on the entire project. The concept was still turning me on mentally (as well physically, from time to time) but somehow it seemed as if it was getting out of control. I had envisioned this project to be a collection of shots taken at various locations where my model could be daring in a way that seemed less sexual and more natural; Angel at a public beach frolicking in the surf, Angel playing volleyball, Angel building a sandcastle, Angel playing Frisbee with some lucky beachgoer, all of which would be done while wearing an extremely revealing bikini or perhaps tight shorts and a loose fitting top with no bra. This was more in line with what I expected. It would give ample excuses for her to expose herself in ways that were at least half-way acceptable. Who could blame her if the surf ‘accidentally’ pulled her bottoms down as a wave washed over her? Would she be at fault if her pubic hair was visible every time she opened her legs a little too wide? She would of course untie her top while basking in the sun (don’t many women?) and reaching for a drink of water or lighting a cigarette presented her with unlimited excuses to bare her breasts. And since this was her ‘new’ bikini, how was she to know how incredibly transparent it became when wet? It was a lesser example of polite deniability, I must agree, but it was same thing, wasn’t it?

But Angel was Angel, and being Angel meant going far beyond anything I had envisioned. I was hoping that I could talk her into scaling back her level of exhibitionism or we might never survive the entire twenty days. 

I purposely waited a few more minutes before going downstairs. Not knowing what was going to happen was making my heart beat faster and my skin felt clammy. Despite the promise I had made myself I was beginning to feel paranoid. I lit a cigarette and sat on the bed not only trying to relax but to think as well. My thoughts, of course, brought up images of Ellie and the couple at the bar that had started this whole odyssey and the disastrous evening when Helen and I went to Terry’s Tavern. Why was it that the very thing I sought was the very thing I feared? Was it a form of death wish? I knew I didn’t want to die, of course, but why did so much pleasure have to be bought with so much fear and uneasiness? It seemed that my search for Paradise was leading more to hell than Heaven. 

Helen and I had been on opposite sides of the bell shaped curve most of our lives, and it had been the source of most of our problems. In my search for a model I had been looking for someone that was close to the same position on the curve as I was, and when I hired Angel I thought she would be the one. It was now becoming clear that Angel’s location on the curve was just as far from mine as Helen’s had been, only now Angel had become the ‘liberal’ point and I had become the ‘conservative’ one. It suddenly dawned on me that it wasn’t a matter of which ‘side’ of the curve one was on that made the difference, but rather the distance between the two points. Angel and I were on the same side of the curve, but she was the instigator and I was now the reluctant partner who had to either come up with the courage to follow or be the wet blanket that refuses to have fun. 

Was this God’s way of making a joke? Whatever else it might be, it was certainly poetic justice. I was now being asked to play the ‘Helen’ role while Angel played me.   

Confused and unsure of myself, yet anxious to see what would happen next, I picked up the camera and began to descend the stairs. 

My cock was as hard as it had ever been.

**********

On returning to the soon-to-be scene of the crime I set up the tripod and then checked all the settings of the camera. I wanted to make sure that the entire area I wanted to tape was visible and that the lighting was sufficient. Everything seemed in order so I pointed the camera in the mirror and turned on the camera. I let it run for about ten seconds – long enough to satisfy Bob – and then turned it back and pointed it at the area where the ‘action” was going top occur.   

I wanted to make the tape look professional, I really did, but being drunk does NOT lead to professionalism. I tripped over one of the legs of the tripod while trying to screw down the camera and the whole damn thing tipped over.

“Uhh…sorry,” I said self consciously. “Now I gotta rewind it and start again.”  “Forget starting over,” Angel said in an exasperated voice, “and forget the tripod too. What do you think your doing, making ‘Gone with the fuckin’ Wind?’ Whatever we end up with is what we end up with. It’s the experience that counts, not the fuckin’ tape.” 

There was no two ways about it; Angel definitely had a distinct way of phrasing things.

“I know, I know,” I countered, “but I wanted it to be at least watchable.”

“So you get lots of crappy shots of the ceiling and the floor and people’s feet and, in this case, a falling tripod. So what? Nobody’s gonna give a shit. Years from now you’ll watch the tape and remember how klutzy you were and you’ll be glad that you saved it. Mistakes are history and history is how everything really happened, not as how you intended it to happen.” 

She had a point. Sheepishly I moved the tripod out of the way and pointed the hand held camera at her naked body.

********** 

She looked into the lens and gave it a really ridiculous smile - tongue out, eyes crossed, thumbs in her ears, that kind of a smile - and then turned and faced Bob. He had stripped down to just his bright red pants while I had been upstairs contemplating the Universe and now he stood waiting for her to make the first move. He didn’t have long to wait. 

“Boxers or briefs?” she asked rhetorically as she slowly walked a circle around his standing body, “briefs or boxers?” Once she was facing him again she ran her hands over his chest and then knelt in front of him and unbuckled his belt. Once she had threaded it through the loops she tossed it onto the couch and then unbuttoned his pants. Slowly she began to slide the zipper down.     

They were white Jockey brand briefs, and long before the zipper reached the bottom it was obvious that they were fully packed. The underwear was tight enough so that his rigid staff was pressed against his abdomen and the tight cotton revealed an almost perfect outline his tumescent member. Even the ridge that separated the shaft from the head was noticeable. It took Angel only a few seconds to put the front away from his body and peek at what was inside. She must have liked what she saw. A huge smile erupted on her face and I heard her whispered “Oh, Shit!” She was finally seeing the ‘dick’ she had waited for. 

Bob was as erect as a man could possible be, and although I could feel an erection of my own I knew that it would only pale compared to his. He was facing the camera and had his hands clasped behind his back. He was grinning and it was obvious that he was waiting for her to continue. He no longer seemed concerned that he was being taped, and showed no sign of embarrassment whatsoever. 

Angel put her arms around his waist and pulled him against her. With his cock pressed tightly against her lower stomach she grabbed the back of his underwear with both hands and pulled them down over his ass. With her hands cupping his naked buns she began rubbing her body against him. “Oh, baby! This is gonna be so much fuckin’ fun!”  Her eyes were wide open and she was speaking breathlessly.

Still pressing herself against him she bent her legs and slowly started sliding her body down his. His jockey shorts followed her descent and by the time she was on her knees they lay on the floor at his feet. Without being asked he stepped out of them and kicked them across the room.

“I finally get to see a dick” she laughed, her face only a few inches away from it, “and what a dick it is!” She turned and looked at the camera and said,  “Look, Tom, this monster must be at least ten inches long..” She wrapped the fingers of her right hand around the shaft and gave it a few experimental stokes while her left hand cradled his balls.   

I zoomed in on her face. I wanted to catch each and every expression she made. I had been shocked when she had suggested giving him a lap dance, but seeing her stroke him and feeling his balls was something I hadn’t expected. It was hard for me to believe that she was taking it this far. I don’t know why but I felt somehow betrayed. I was angry, jealous, and….and hard!   

Not knowing that the camera was zoomed in on her she glanced up at his face. Her expression didn’t change, and there were no words spoken, but as she looked at him she dipped her head down and began running her tongue along the underside of his rigid shaft. It wasn’t until I watched the tape some days later that I realized just how much I had jostled the camera when I first saw that. If simply ‘touching him’ down there had surprised me the act of licking him made everything surreal. Was it possible that she would take it to the next level?

It didn’t take her long to answer my question. 

**********

I suppose I could use a cliché and tell you that I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, but that wouldn’t be the truth. Once her hand had encircled his cock I began to realize that she was going for it all. It wasn’t in her nature to censor herself, and I honestly believed that she would go the distance. She had been up front from the very beginning that she wouldn’t ‘fuck’ and I suddenly realized that she had said that so as not worry about temptation, but now that she was drunk I was sure she would forget her own rule. Sober she might have had a chance to keep whatever promise she had made to herself, but she was drunk and she certainly looked like a woman who wanted to be fucked.  

Her mouth was now holding him inside, and her lips were closed over his skin. She slowly began moving her head, sucking him in even further.  When she had as much of him in her mouth as she could she looked up at the camera and winked. Her cheeks were caved in hollow, as if seeking fullness from him. Her hands were between his legs, stoking his ass with one and playing with his balls with the other. She was pushing her head deeper and deeper as she gulped down on him.   

She sucked him for what seemed to be a long time, but eventually she pulled her mouth away, saying “I need a cigarette and another glass of wine. When I’m finished I’ll give you the lap dance of all lap dances. I promise.” 

She found her glass and filled it, then had to search for her cigarettes, her lighter and ashtray. Once she found them she lit her cigarette and then collapsed down onto the floor. “I can’t believe how fuckin’ wasted I am,” she said, rolling her head from side to side again. “It’s a fuckin’ miracle I’m still awake much less functioning. Anybody else toasted?”

Neither Bob nor I responded to her question. Bob had joined the party late, and I had slowed down my consumption of alcohol early on, and while neither one of us was exactly sober we were nowhere near the level of Angel’s inebriation.  

I was going to turn off the camera while Angel had her cigarette and wine respite, but I changed my mind at the last moment and let it run. Like she had said before, in her own inimitable way, ‘It’s the experience that matters, not the fuckin’ tape’ and who knew what might happen during her rest period? Ignoring Bob - who was sitting on the floor and staring at her cunt, as usual - I trained the camera on Angel and then sat back and lit up a cigarette on my own.

**********

It took Angel longer to finish her cigarette than it took me, perhaps because she was alternating between puffs of the cigarette and sips from the wine. When she took her last puff and stubbed it out in the ashtray I picked up the camera and began tracking her again.

She managed to stand up, and once she was balanced, with her usual distain for using euphemisms, announced that she had to pee before she continued.  

The bathroom was at the far end of the hall and both Bob and I watched as she unceremoniously bumped into the wall halfway to her destination and almost fell over. “Oops,” she said, before she straightened herself out and began moving forward again. I was under the assumption that she said it out of sheer habit since she never turned around to see whether we had heard or not.

The door to the bathroom was open and when she reached it she went inside and plopped down on the toilet, never bothering to close the door. Bob and I had nowhere to look except at her, and we had nothing to hear except the sound of her urine as it hit the water. 

When she was finished peeing she pulled tissue off the roll on the wall and wiped herself. After dropping the tissue into the bowl she stood and pulled off some more. Looking directly at us she wiped herself again.

I never found out whether she was too drunk to care or too sober to miss the opportunity of demonstrating her complete lack of inhibitions, but I suppose it didn’t really matter. It was, after all, just another vignette about Angel that would be etched in my mind and remembered forever. 

I did find it interesting, however, that while the door had remained open, either by chance or by choice, she didn’t forget to flush. 

**********

When she returned to the living room she looked at Bob, saying “Are you ready for your lap dance now?” She immediately giggled and added, “Or should I say floor dance since it would be uncomfortable on any of the furniture in here.”    

“I’m ready as you are, “ Bob smiled.

“Then put your undies back on and lay down on the floor.” 

“You’re kidding. You want me to put my underwear back on?”

“Don’t be sly, you naughty boy,” she intoned. “If I’m going to be sitting on you I want your thingy covered. I told you at the beginning you couldn’t fuck me, and I think it might be a little hard…uhh…I mean a little difficult, to sit on your lap with that thing bouncing around. It might accidentally poke its way into someplace it’s not supposed to be, if you get my drift.” 

Bob immediately understood what she was saying and quickly stepped into his shorts again. He assumed a supine position and waited for her to lower herself onto him which she did almost immediately. “Oh, yeah!”, he said as she put her hands between her legs and pulled her lips apart, removing them only after her open pussy was resting on his jockey covered erection.   

Simulating actual intercourse they ‘bucked’ for a good three to four minutes. His hands were on the cheeks of her ass and they ‘bucked’ together in almost perfect harmony. When he squirmed she squirmed right along with him and when he ground his hard-on against her wet pussy she ground back with equal enthusiasm. For all intents and purposes they really were fucking, the only difference being that thin covering of cotton that she had insisted he wear. 




Angel Lost in the Dark Ch. 09



I captured the spectacle from all angles. I walked completely around, them taping their faces, their bodies, and of course the proverbial close-ups of their crotches as they bumped and humped and ground themselves together with sexual abandon. Unlike the sanitized simulations of sex that is presented ad nauseam on Cinemax on Saturday nights, this was real. There was no cheesy music in the background, no quick flashes of pubic hair a split second before cutting to a different shot, no inane story that segued from the end of one sex scene to the beginning of another, and last but not least, the faked “ahhhhs’ and ‘mmmm’s” on the soundtrack that made it seem that the actors and actresses actually liked one another. All of that was gone, and what replaced it were the sights and sounds of real sexual pleasure. 

Suddenly it came to a halt, or at least that’s what I thought. Angel rolled off him in mid thrust and knelt beside him. After a few deep breaths she turned and straddled him again, but from the opposite direction. She was now looking at his bulging shorts from a squatting position on his stomach and he was looking directly into her open backside! They were, so to speak, in the classic “69” position, with her on top, and I held my breath hoping (and fearing) what might happen next.  

Angel gave the camera another one of her famous grins the reached down with her hands and began tugging on the side of Bob’s shorts. He accommodated her by lifting his hips, allowing her to pull them off. She looked into the camera again, not with grin she had before but with a look of hunger. She closed her eyes, then lowered her head and wrapped her fingers around his huge cock. Immediately my on again-off again erection switched to the on position. 

With her hand wrapped around his cock she opened her mouth and swallowed him as far in as she could. She bobbed her head up and down for a good two minutes then began alternating between the slow, deep throated descents that swallowed every inch she could to a quicker, shorter, more intense sucking that was meant to bring him to the brink of climax. During the intense sucking there were times when I thought he would surely shoot his sperm into her mouth, but every time Angel seemed to know exactly when to quit and to resume the slower, more relaxed type of blow job that she had begun with. 

During the entire time that Angel was busy administering to his cock, Bob was pleasuring her as well, and as the camera man I made it a point to continually circle the couple and tape it from both directions. With her knees spread apart and her body bent forward in order to suck on Bob’s dick, the entire area between her legs was spread obscenely open. This enabled Bob and me, as well as the camera, to see not only the deepness beyond the wet pinkness of her open labia, but the deepness beyond the puckered, ring-like opening of her asshole as well. Neatly framed by the curving sides of her cheeks, her asshole stood as a smaller, darker, version of her cunt. I couldn’t help but zoom in on the entire area as well as closer zooms which concentrated on each of the two individual holes. I knew the time would come that Angel and I would watch the tape together, and for the sake of perversity I wanted her to see how grossly she had exposed herself. 

I became so intent on taping this wantonness that for a few moments I almost forgot about Bob. When I remembered I suddenly realized that in my zeal of getting a close-up of her asshole I had unintentionally squatted down over his face. Thoroughly embarrassed I quickly stood up and apologized, but when I saw his eyes I knew it wasn’t necessary. He was smiling up at me conspiratorially and then he began raising his head toward her cunt. 

When his tongue first touched the area between her spread lips it was tentative, but when she didn’t seem to object he became more forceful. Using his fingers he spread the tender lobes of flesh even further apart and began lapping up the moist secretions that were dripping from her. His nose was nearly pressed against her asshole but he didn’t seem to mind. He seemed satisfied with sucking on her labia and teasing her clitoris with his tongue. 

She soon began moaning softly and the bobbing of her head became more pronounced. She was now engaged in the quicker, shorter version of her blowjob and as her moaning increased Bob began lifting his hips to meet the bobbing of her head. “Oh, fuck, baby, oh FUCK!!!!” he finally cried out when he could stand no more. He thrust his right knee over her neck and locked her head against his thrusting cock, then dove his face into her and began licking her from cunt to asshole and to all points between. He was in a frenzy of lust and I knew it was too late to stop him from cumming. 

“Oh, fuck baby,” he cried, “I need to CUM!” and his hips began banging into her mouth. 

She managed to pull her mouth away in time, but she wasn’t fast enough to avoid being hit on her cheek with the first blast of his cum. Nonplussed she let it hang there and drip its way down her face as she held his spurting member in her hand, and when the last weak spurt dribbled out she continued pumping it for a few seconds until she was sure that he was completely empty. 

As he was recuperating she looked into the camera and smiled again. Using her fingers She wiped the cum off her body with and then brought her fingers to her mouth and began sucking them. When she brought her fingers out the cum was gone.

********** 

Bob dressed and was gone in five minutes. He attempted to say goodbye to Angel, but by that time she had passed out on the couch. 

Leaving her as she was for the time being I picked up the pizza box, the almost empty wine bottle, the glasses and the ashtray. I took them with me to the kitchen and spent the next five minutes making sure that everything was as clean as it had been when Angel had arrived. 

When I returned to the living room I picked up the washcloth and wiped her face. Her eyes opened for a second but immediately closed again. 

I went upstairs and brought back a blanket for her. It wasn’t really cold so instead of covering her I simply laid it next to her so it would be there if she needed it. I turned on the lights in the kitchen and left the door open. 

Everything that needed to be done had been done. It was time for me to climb the stairs, remove my clothes, assume my natural fetal position on the bed and get some well deserved sleep. 

And yet….

And yet…. My mind kept thinking. And thinking. 

Angel was lying on her stomach, head turned sideways, one leg stretched out on the couch and the other bent at the knee and drooping down to the floor. She was sleeping the sleep of the dead. There was nothing I could do that would rouse her, was there? And if she should awaken, what would she do? She had given a blow job to a complete stranger and had let him taste the juice from between her legs. She had let him cum on her and she had collected the cum on her fingers and put it in her mouth. If I WAS caught, she certainly wouldn’t be offended would she? 

I took off my clothes and knelt down on the floor beside her. I put my hand between her legs and began playing with her cunt.

Twenty minutes later I went to bed, but not before wiping the cum off her body. 



    TO BE CONTINUED….. 



Angel Lost in the Dark



She picked up another beer and said, "This is my last drink of the night. I don't want to get completely wasted like I did last year." The smile she gave indicated, to me at least, that she this would be the only the first last drink she would have.

By the fifth song she had taken off taken off her dress, her nylons and her garter belt and was she was drinking her second last beer of the evening. She was now clad only in her bra and panties that had a floral design on light white cotton. Better than the bra in terms of sexiness, but still nothing really daring. Being consistent, she had resisted taking off each item until she was "talked into it" by anonymous voices from the drunken crowd, and the command of 'Take it off!' seemed good enough to "talk her into it," In short, she didn't really need encouragement so much as acceptance for her behavior. If they had stopped giving her their approval by way of catcalls and comments I'm sure she would have stopped dancing, but as long as they were enjoying her, she was willing to continue. She was feeding their hunger and they were feeding hers. It was too bad that I wasn't going to sign up for any Psychology classes this semester. This would have made for a very interesting topic for a paper.

It surprised that the women were just as vocal in their encouragement as were their male counterparts. I assumed that some were probably jealous and wanted to be up their themselves, some just wanted to watch her make a fool of herself, some wanted to impress their boyfriends with their acceptance of gratuitous nudity, some probably wanted to get laid, some were probably lesbians, but most of them were probably too drunk to really care one way or another. Why NOT encourage her?

"Do you think she's going to take it all off?" Without stopping to think I answered, "I hope so" and then realized that the voice I was hearing was female. I turned and looked into the eyes of a fairly plump looking girl. She was far from beautiful but attractive enough that I wondered why she had chosen to speak to me. "Sorry," I said, "but I answered before I knew it was you."

"How could you know it was me? We've never met."

"Well, I meant that I thought that you were my friend," I lied. "He was here a few minutes ago."

"A friend is only a stranger you get to know," she replied. 

"He wasn't really a friend. He's just somebody I met earlier. I don't really have any friends here." 

"I'd make a good friend. Want to be friends?" I wasn't used to forward women and it took me off guard. I was beginning to realize that college life was going to be a whole lot different that High School and I'd better get used to it.

"Sure, "I said. "My name is Thomas." Like an idiot I held out my hand for her to shake.

"Hi, Tommy. My name's Eloise, but you can call me Ellie." She paid no attention to my raised hand as she reached up and kissed me on the cheek. It took me by surprise and I didn't know exactly how to respond. "Nice to meet you, Ellie," I said before turning my attention once again to the table where Carol was dancing. She had unclasped the bra and was holding the cups tight to her chest with her hands. 

"So, do you WANT her to take it all off?" she asked again paraphrasing her earlier question. I was hoping that she would say something that would get the conversation going again but it wasn't exactly the something I was hoping for. How do you answer a question like that to a girl who you have met less than a minute ago?

"I suppose. Everybody else seems to want her to do it."

"Everybody else is drunk. Are you?"

"I suppose. I don't feel drunk but I've had a lot beer."

"In that case you definitely need another one. And since you're getting yourself one would you mind getting me one too?"

As I walked toward the keg holding the two empty cups in my hands I began to wonder if Ellie was just trying to be friendly or if she was trying to pick me up. She wasn't as attractive as most of the other girls at the party so perhaps she was just feeling alone like I was, but she seemed outgoing and open minded and if the opportunity presented itself to kiss her or maybe feel her up or something I certainly wouldn't mind. She wasn't really ugly, and except for a little extra weight she seemed to have a fairly decent body. I decided to risk peppering my conversation with a few suggestive words or comments, maybe a double-entendre or two if I could think of them quick enough to logically fit them in to the conversation, and watch her reaction. Hopefully she wouldn't be embarrassed and it would fit in perfectly given the racy mood that was being exhibited by everyone else.

"Thank you, Tommy," she said as she took one of the beers out my hand and took a huge gulp. "I don't know if you've noticed but she just dispensed with her bra" 

I foolishly stood there, staring at the bare breasts bouncing on stage, again not knowing what to say. I waited a few minutes for her to break the ice again, and when she didn't I searched for something to say. "Well, I see she still hasn't taken off her bottoms yet."

"No, she hasn't, but I guarantee you she will. If she hasn't shown us her pussy by the time I finish this drink I'll make sure she does."

I almost dropped my beer. We were standing against the wall just a few feet away from a big group of people but she had said it without dropping her tone of voice and I looked around nervously to see if any one had heard. I was embarrassed for her and by association embarrassed for myself. "My God!" I said, "Keep your voice down. What do you think people would think if they heard you?"

"I would imagine they would think they were going to see her pussy pretty soon. What the hell's bothering you?"

"Nothing's bothering me. It's just embarrassing to hear you say something like that, Girls aren't supposed to say things like that."

"Say things like what?"

"Like what you just said."

"What did I just say?"

"You said that…. Oh, never mind." "She was smiling and I knew that she knew that I knew damn good and well that she was making fun of me. If I told her the word that I found offensive I would be on her level and if I didn't repeat it she would continue to pretend not to understand what was bothering me. At least now I didn't have to take the conversation to the next level. The next level had been left far behind and I was now in uncharted waters. 

"I suppose you object to my use of the word pussy. Is that what bothered you?"

"Yes," I hissed, "and keep your voice down. People can hear you."

"She can get applause for showing it off and I get criticized for mentioning it? Something ain't right here."

"She's not showing it off," I said in defense of the girl who I was secretly hoping WOULD show it off. Hypocrisy wasn't one of my strong suits but it would do until I could think of something better to say.

Ellie stood next to me and whispered in my ear "Should I have called it her cunt?"

I had never met a girl like Ellie before and I knew that I was blushing. Most boys didn't talk like this; much less girls, and I had a suspicion that Ellie was using these words as a defense mechanism. She must have known that she was probably the least attractive girl in any crowd, and she was using the power of her words to at least leave an impression. Bad impressions are never as good as good impressions but they're better than leaving no impression at all. I was beginning to feel sorry for her.

On the table Carol was drinking yet another last beer and was getting a little more suggestive with each one. She was playing with the sides of her panties and pulling them up on the sides so the audience could see more skin. The most daring thing she had done was to pull the elastic around her away from her body in front and dance around staring down into a good six-inch separation between the material and her bare skin. She was way above them on the table so only she could see down into her panties, but it certainly got her a lot of hoots and hollers. 

We watched patiently for another three songs until Ellie suddenly said, "This is getting tedious." She handed me her almost empty cup of beer and asked me to hold it for her saying that she would be back in just a second. She politely pushed a few people out of her way as she walked around the side of the room and approached the table where Carol was dancing from behind.

Carol was doing her best to imitate a bump and grind routine, her thumbs hooked under the elastic of her panties to make it look even more tantalizing than it was, when Ellie suddenly reached up and pulled the panties all the way down. A roar erupted from the crowd and Carol tried covering herself as best she could with one hand. I was expecting her to bend over and pull the panties back up but she didn't. People surrounded the table on all sides and she probably realized there was no ladylike to bend over and pull them up, so like a true trooper she took off her bra, kicked the panties into the crowd and continued dancing as if this had been planned all along. 

"I told you she'd show it off eventually," Ellie said as she approached me. She had made her way across the room greeted by people saying 'Congratulations' and 'Thank You' and she was basking in the glory of the moment. There was a big smile on her face and she was definitely proud of what she had done, "Notice I said 'it' this time and not 'pussy.' Is that better?" 

She took her cup back and downed the remainder in one gulp. She grabbed my hand and said, "Let's go get so more beer before they run out. Don't worry you can watch her strut her stuff from there."

While we were filling the glasses I heard Carol announce that she was finished dancing. Some of the people tried to convince her to continue but she pointed out that since she was already completely naked there wasn't much more that she could do to tease them and besides, she giggled, it was almost midnight. She wanted to have a few beers and mingle with her fans.

I watched Carol as she dressed and got off the table. Nick helped her down and since Ellie and I were still in the general vicinity of the keg they headed our way. They stopped a few times long enough for her to receive the nice remarks and comments on her performance that some were giving her. I was expecting someone to ask for her autograph but no one did.

"Shouldn't we get out of here," I asked Ellie. "They're coming this way."

"Why should we leave?" was all she said. I was flabbergasted when they approached the keg and Carol said, "The least you could have done was to give me some kind of warning. I thought I was being attacked by someone."

"It was getting boring," Ellie said in return. "When you strip you have to go slow, but slow and SLOW are two things. You didn't show anything for the first half hour and after you finally took off your bra and showed them your tits it seemed like another twenty minutes before you gave them even a quick glimpse of your ass much less your pussy. We got'ta go back to the drawing board, girl,"

"It wasn't that bad, was it?" Carol asked.

"You actually know each other?" I asked. 

It was Ellie that answered. "We're in the same Sorority."

"And we share an apartment, too," Carol added.

I tried to think of something to say but I found myself speechless. I tried to remembe everything I had said to Ellie during the evening but my mind, suddenly dulled by the last beer, wasn't really working right. I found a chair nearby and sat in it.. I spread my legs apart, placed my elbows on my knees, closed my eyes, lowered my head so it was supported by my hands and tried to decide whether to cry or to laugh. To use the word surreal would be an understatement.

"Want to take me out to breakfast?" Ellie asked.

"You're kidding. Right?"

"No. But if that's a stretch, how about I take YOU out to breakfast."

"You're kidding. Right?'

I raised my head and with bleary-beer eyes looked deep into hers. I don't know it was the alcohol, or the lateness of evening or the events of the evening or a sudden epiphany, but I suddenly realized that if I played my cards right I could lose my innocence..

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was a Denny's Restaurant within walking distance from the Frat House, but by the time we got there she had suggested that we skip the 'appetizers' and go instead to her apartment where we could have the main course. I forgot about playing my cards right and began concentrating on how not to embarrass myself. Should I be forthright and tell her up front that I had never been intimate with a girl before or should I segue into the confession by casually mentioning that until she had pulled Carol'spanties down I had never seen a girl completely naked before? I had seen pictures, or course, so I was somewhat familiar with the geography of a woman's body, but I was woefully ignoring about where to put the what.. I knew that to get to a point a series of preliminary actions needed to be taken and I was also clueless as to how to begin. 

Her apartment turned out to be a really nice three-bedroom apartment that she shared with Carol and one of her. The building itself comtained a large pool and Jacuzzi as well as a fully equipped Spa and Recreation Room. I was duly impressed..

When she opened the door she flicked on the lights and I followed her in. The apartment consisted of a large living with a sofa, a television and stereo combination, a wall rack with zillions of record albums and an exercise bike that I doubted was hers. On one side of the room, opposite the couch, was a closed door that obviously led to the bedrooms.. A nice kitchen with attached dining area was to the back of the apartment as we entered. A large sliding glass door ran the length of the dining area and I could vaguely see chairs in the darkness on the patio beyond..

"Have a seat while I go and slip into something more comfortable," she said with a seductive smile. 

I swallowed hard and tried to act as if that was something I had heard a million times before. I heard myself saying, "Don't be too long or I'll be lonely," as she opened the door and disappeared down the hall. Strike one, I thought. I couldn't think of anything I could have said that would have sounded dumber. I selected a chair to sit in and nervously await her grand entrance wearing her "comfortable" clothes. 

I didn't have to wait long. She walked into the room dressed in a white men's undershirt that was many sizes to large for her 5'5" frame. It was long enough to cover her properly, but being an undershirt it certainly didn't cling tightly at the bottom. I couldn't tell if she was wearing panties, but she certainly wasn't wearing a bra. The outline of her pendulous breasts was pushing against the cotton fabric and I could see their pinkness of her nipples contrasting with the pale whiteness of her skin. I knew that we would be on the couch soon, and I knew that it would be hard for her to cover what was or wasn't hidden under the T-shirt. 

"I see I'm the only one that got comfortable," she said with what I took as disappointed inflection in her voice. She seemed a little nervous. "You can take off your shoes at least." 

I wondered if she was as nervous as I was. After seeing her pulling off Carol's pants and hearing her speak those obscenities at the party I was fairly well convinced she wasn't as innocent as me, but I still had my doubts as to how far she would be willing to go. Innocence and inexperience leads to confusion and indecisiveness and I was certainly confused and indecisive. 

I sat on the couch and took off my shoes and socks. Seeing as she was already halfway naked I considered raising the ante a little by taking off my shirt as well, but I couldn't. As strange as it sounds to say, but I still had respect for her and I didn't want to offend her in any way that would jeopardize what might happen.

"I'm losing my buzz," she said a few moments after I had dropped the last sock on the floor.. "I've got cold beer in the fridge. Want one?"

"That would be nice," I said as I stood up. I followed her into the kitchen watching the sway of her buttocks as they swayed back and forth. When she reached the refrigerator she opened the door and quickly bent over to retrieve two bottles beer and as she did my earlier question was answered. The T-shirt lifted up to expose her ass in all its glory. She must have known I would see it but she didn't say a word or give any indication that anything was amiss. 

"Would you like to dance, or would you rather sit on the couch and talk or something?" she asked as we opened our beer and drank.

"I don't care. Either one sounds good to me." At this point of the evening I was satisfied to let her do the choosing. I didn't want to mess things up by choosing the wrong one.

I could see her debating for a few seconds and then she said, "Let's sit on the couch and talk. I'll put some records on and if we hear something we like we can dance." 

With her free hand she grabbed mine and led me over to the record rack. I knelt down and began flipping through the album on the lower part of the rack while she continued standing and searching through the middle section. "What kind of music do you like? Jazz? Folk? Western? Rock-n-roll?

"Jazz is great to listen to," I said, "but for dancing maybe some old standards"

"I've got just the thing," she said as she reached up to the highest portion of the rack and selected a fairly recent Perry Como album. I was still kneeling down as she did and the T-Shirt raised itself up over her exposed stomach and my eyes came into close proximity and with the wet hair between her legs. She stood there for a moment longer than was necessary before she handed me the album. She lowered her arm and the sight disappeared from view. I looked up at her eyes and saw that she was looking directly into my eyes.

"Do you like this?" she said with an enigmatic smile.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, uh, look at you like that."

"Looking at me? Like how?" The smile was even broader than before. I knew that she was playing with me again like she had done at the frat house, and suddenly I felt released. She wanted me to tell her that I had seen her naked body.. She had wanted me to see. I could continue being the me that I was – quiet, safe, and shy – and get nowhere, or I could speak up – be more open in my desires, more daring and forward – and if I lost, I lost. But if I lost it certainly wouldn't be by default.

"I was looking at you like this," I said as I reached out and lifted her T-shirt up above her waist. She made no move to push my hands away. She just stood there and watched as I feasted my eyes on her nakedness.

"You seemed to like Carol's. I rather thought you might like looking at mine too."

My hands were on her waist and my eyes were fixed firmly between her legs. My heart was pumping furiously. My penis was rock hard and I wanted so very much to pull it free and stroke it. My mind was filled with obscene images of her laying back on the sofa with her legs spread wide inviting me to fuck her. 

"Oh God," I whimpered, "It's so beautiful."

"You can feel it too, if you want," she said as she took one of my hands and placed it on the furry tangle of pubic hair that covered the entrance to her body. I started running my hand over the soft patch, petting it, feeling the texture, wrapping my fingers around the curls and twisting them around the end of my fingers. Slowly she knelt down beside me pushed lips against mine. Her tongue forced its way deep into my mouth. I kissed her back violently and as she spread her legs apart I placed my palm on her open pussy and began applying pressure as I caressed the two cheeks of her ass and the valley between them.




Angel Lost in the Dark



Her hands felt for my belt and once it was open she hungrily reached for my zipper and pulled it down. Our lips were still assaulting each other and the passion of her kisses far exceeded the chaste kisses I had been accustomed to from previous girls. I felt her hand pulling at my cock, caressing it, squeezing it, doing to it what I was doing to her pussy. We were both horny and we were both doing everything we could think of to satisfy the sexual itch that was within us that needed scratching.

"The bed," she whimpered as she pulled the T-shirt over her head. "The bed's much so much more comfortable."

I pulled my pants off and tossed them on top of her T-shirt. She took my hand and led me to her room. It was completely dark as she shut the door, but as she led me blindly to the bed I heard the flicking of a switch and the room was suffused in a blue light. It gave the room a surreal look, bright enough to see clearly, yet dark enough to make everything more sensuous, with shadows blurring any harsh blemishes or imperfections on our bodies. It made everything looked airbrushed, perfect, and the droplets of sweat that had begun to form on our bodies from the heat of our passion glistened and shined in its soft illumination.

She was sitting cross-legged on the bed and I was on my back with my head on a pillow. Her hands were stroking my Cock and her eyes were fastened on it. "It's so fucking hard," she said, licking her lips, "and I'm so fucking horny."

There was a moment of silence while we each played with each other's body, her hands on my cock and my hands rubbin and kneading her breasts and flicking my fingers over her extended nipples. "Were you surprised that I wasn't wearing panties?" she asked unexpectedly. I wanted passion, not conversation, but as long as it revolved around sex I had no real objection. As long as the verbal foreplay led to a more heightened sexuality I was all for it. I was still concerned that my performance might not be everything she hoped it would be, but at this point I figured that at least I'd get laid. I doubted that any woman who says she's "fucking horny" would not object if a stiff cock invaded her body.

"I thought you were, but I wasn't sure until you bent over and got the beers."

"Mmmm" she said as she licked her lips, "you saw that, huh?. I thought maybe you'd missed it. How come you didn't say anything at the time?"

"I didn't know for sure that you were doing it on purpose."

She smiled at me through the dim blue light and then leaned forward and took me into her mouth. As she began to greedily suck on my cock my mind went into overdrive. In my wildest dreams I wouldn't have believed that this would be happening, and yet it was. My cock was in her mouth and she was sucking on it. I felt her hands playing with my balls, tenderly rolling them around in her palm, not squeezing (thank God!) but simply feeling them, getting their texture, feeling their weight..

She pulled her mouth away and said, "Don't cum yet. I want this to last. And when you do cum I want you deep in my pussy. I want to feel the warmth and wetness of it and I want to see the look on your eyes as is squirts from your body into mine. I want to be fucked like I've never been fucked before. I'm so Goddamn horny I can't stand it."

Her body arched and she fell backwards. Our sex organs were still close together but our heads were at different ends of the mattress. "Fuck Me Fuck Me Fuck Me" she kept chanting over again and again and again. "Give me your cock! Stick it in my pussy! Fuck me NOW""

Her legs were spread and in the pale blue light I saw the open gash between her legs. Her knees were drawn up and I could distinguish where her gash ended and her hole began. Her fingers were pulling the her lips apart and one was deep inside her. While she was waiting for me to stick myself inside her she was manually stimulating herself "Oh God, Fuck me! Love Me! Fuck Me! Oh Fuck!" 

I tried. I honestly did. I got up and positioned myself over her, held my cock in my hand so I could center it in on the target and suddenly, before it had been reached, I felt myself letting go and spewing myself all over her naked and waiting body.



The next morning was a completely different story. Amazingly, what with all the beer we had consumed the night before, we both woke up without a hangover. I woke up before she did, and at first I couldn't remember where I was, but then I saw her lying next to me. Slowly, so as not to wake her, I slid the sheet down and looked at her naked body. Dried come was flaked on her belly and on the soft curly hair between her legs. Her eyes were closed and, lost in what ever dreams she may be having, she was softly snoring.

She was not beautiful. She reminded me a little of the cartoon character Petunia Pig. She was perhaps thirty pounds overweight but it was equally distributed between her various parts. She had thick legs, thick arms and a paunch in her belly. Her face was puffy and her nose was flatter and wider that normal. For the moment, anyway, her breath reeked of stale beer and the cigarette smoke that had enveloped us the night before. The room was a relatively neat and tidy, but there was precious little of any personality to it. There were only a few knick-knacks on the otherwise bare dresser and there was nothing hanging on the walls. Beside the bed and the dresser there was only a chair. It was as if she was afraid to give the room any character. 

Had I enjoyed the night before? Oh yes! I suppose you could say I was still a virgin, but I had seen her naked, I had ejaculated on her body, and experienced my first blow job. Three out of four wasn't bad. Up until last night the only woman I had ever seen completely naked had been my mother, and I really didn't count her. 

I desperately needed to piss so I slipped out of bed and went to the bathroom. When I returned to the bedroom Ellie was awake.

"Good morning," I said. For the first time in my life I was standing naked in front of a girl. Even though I wasn't embarrassed I crossed the room quickly and once back in the bed I pulled the sheet up over me.

"Good morning to you too," she said as she planted her puffy lips on mine. Her beer breath wasn't the most romantic thing I had ever experienced but I had to cut her some slack since I assumed that mine was just as bad. 

"I hate to ask you this, but do you have some mouth wash. My mouth taste like shit and I'd hate to kiss you like that." 

"Follow me," she said, and she led me back down the hall to the bathroom.. She opened the door to the medicine cabinet and handed me a large bottle of Lavoris. After gargling I handed it to her hoping she would take the hint. She did.

"What would you like for breakfast?" she asked. "Are eggs and bacon OK?"

"Eggs and bacon sound fine, particularly the bacon, but I was thinking that maybe we could go back to bed." I smiled at her and let my eyes travel down her naked body. "Maybe we could finish what we started last night."

"A good fuck is always better than breakfast," she said, "but why don't we start off in the shower. Dried cum isn't really romantic and I want to be my best for you."

I watched as she turned on the shower. Her butt was full and round and meaty.. It had a series of wrinkles on it caused by excess weight and a huge red zit ob her lower left buttock, but it was still exciting to me. If I had to rate all the women who I had seen naked she would definitely lead the list..

When the water was warm enough she stepped in and motioned me to follow. As the water began to flow over me I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close. Our lips met and our tongues resumed their duel from the night before. My erect cock was pressed between us as we stood in the there, kissing, our hands planted firmly on each other butts.

When we finally broke free from our kiss she took a washcloth and began soaping it up. "Don't worry," she said with an excited look on her face, "I'll make sure that you go second." She knelt down in the shower and took my rock hard cock in her hands and began rubbing the washcloth over it. The water was hitting her hair as she knelt there, her lips only inches away from balls. 

"Spread you legs apart," she said, and as I did so I felt her reach between my legs and begin running the washcloth up and down the crease of my ass. As the cloth passed over my asshole she paused momentarily and pushed the washcloth hard up against it. "Tell me if that makes you uncomfortable," she said. "Some guys like me to play with their assholes and some don't."

"Don't," I said. She released the pressure she was exerting on the cloth but she continued soaping it down and rubbing the washcloth over it. After the washcloth's fourth journey from my tailbone to my balls she soaped it up again and did a cursory job of cleansing my arms, my legs, my back, and my stomach and chest. She had spent a good part five minutes cleaning my ass and my pubic area and less than a minute on the rest of me, but I didn't feel cheated at all. 

Before she stood up she took me into her mouth again and gave it three or four deep plunges before pulling it out her mouth. "I don't want you to cum yet," she said as way of an apology.

"I'm sorry about last night," I responded, "but I guess I was just to damn horny. Looking at your pussy just made it go off." God, now I was talking just like her. I thought I had been shocked when I heard her use these words last night, but I was even more shocked that I had just used the same words. When given the permission, I thought, one could do things and say things that they wouldn't normally say or do. Under normal circumstances I would never had dared to use these words when in the presence of a woman, but by saying them first she had given me permission to talk as crudely and obscenely as I wanted. This led to the corollary that I was also being given free reign to feel as much as her body as I desired. Besides fucking her I could play with her ass, I could lick her pussy and I could do all the nasty and perverted things that I had dreamt about so many times in the quite of my bedroom.

"At least it's nice to know that it was me that made you cum," she said. "I'd hate to think you were fucking a high school sweetheart in your mind at the time."

"Can I wash you now?" I said as my cock gave an involuntary twitch and became even harder.

"I've been waiting you to say that for over a month," she said enigmatically. She handed me the washcloth and then closed her eyes and waited for me to begin.



It took me twice as long to wash her body as it had taken her to wash mine, but it was twice as fun. Having never washed a woman's body I took my time and made sure that every little nook and cranny was cleansed, rinsed off, and then cleansed again to make sure all the germs, bacteria, soil, grease, grime, and unpleasant odors had been scourged. I suppose I could have completed the task in less time, but I was having fun feeling her and she was having fun being felt. Since neither of us had anywhere else to go we were at the place we wanted to be. The only two things that kept us from staying in the shower all day was that the bed awaited and the hot water ran out.

After drying off we literally ran to the bedroom and jumped on the bed. "Time to fuck" she squealed in anticipation as she lay back on the pillow with her knees up and her legs spread. The pink patch of wet skin between her legs was peeking at me through the dark hairs that surrounded it. It reminded me of an open clam nestled in the middle of a sea of thick black moss. I laid down beside her with my feet on the other pillow and my face staring straight into clam's shell. 

"You look so nasty," I said as a joke as I looked up at her from between her legs and then diverted my eyes back down to the vision of her pussy.

"I can get nastier, too. Just tell me what you want me to do."

I had to contemplate that one. Despite coming on her last night I was still technically a virgin, and here I was being told that not only could I fuck her, but that I could fuck her in any way I wanted. Had my mind been ready at the time to consider of activities that she was suggesting I would have definitely experimented a little more, but being a virgin meant more than just the lack of opportunity, it meant a lack of knowledge. While I was still worried about the technique of actual intercourse she was talking about the entire universe of sexual pleasure. I began to realize that I was out of my league, way WAY out of my league.

I looked up at her face from between her legs and said, "Do you mind if we just talk for a few minutes before we have sex? There's something that you should know about me."

"Do you have a disease?"

"No, nothing like that. It's just that I'm not very experienced, if you know what I mean." I felt foolish saying it and was hoping that this wouldn't lead to an instant expulsion from her bedroom, but I felt it would be better to be embarrassed now rather than later when she realized what a lousy lover I had been.

"You mean you haven't done this much or do you mean that I'm the first?" 

"I mean I never have seen a woman naked before last night. I guess I was just sheltered." 

"You never…"

"That's right, never. I saw my mother as she got out of the bathtub a few times but I don't count that. I felt a girl's boobs once, but that was under her bra. I never got to see it."

"No wonder you were so hot to see Carol's pussy last night. I didn't think that guys like you existed anymore, at least not guys that are you're age." She was quiet for a moment and then she softly said, "Are you sure you really want to do this? I mean, hey, I'm all for you doing me right now, but think about it. Don't you want to wait and do it with someone you love? Or maybe somebody that better looking than me? Look, I'm fat, I'm dumpy, and a lot of people don't like me because I'm loud and crude. People say that you never forget the first person you fuck. Do you want to go through life remembering ME?"

"Why do you put yourself down?" I asked her. "You could lose some weight, maybe dress a little better, but all in all you're very attractive. As far as being loud and crude, that's a choice. You don't have to be if you want to be."

"How little virgins really know," she said with a sad smile. "Being loud and crude works for me.. If I was a fat, dumpy girl who wasn't loud and crude do you think ANY guys would look at me? I know I come across as a slut, but there are a lot a guys that just LOVE sluts." 

"But you can change. There are a lot of guys out there that would like you as you really are. Take me, for example. I like you."

She started to laugh. "You're one to talk. Would you have come home with me last night if you thought for one minute that you weren't going fuck me? Or more to the point, if I hadn't wanted to be fucked would I have invited you home? I love sex like a smoker likes his Pall Mall's. I'm addicted to it, and I don't want to change." 

"I can accept that."

"Did you happen to bring any rubbers? I forgot to ask you that last night because I was drunk." She was changing the subject suddenly and I felt that I had perhaps it would be wise to let her direct the conversation for a while.

"No. I don't usually think I'm going to get laid so what's the point?"

"The POINT? The POINT is that….Ahhh! How in the world can I argue against such impeccable logic? Don't you ever get tired of being wrong?"

"I guess not. I spent the whole night in your bed and I'm still fuckless. Not only that, but NOW you tell me that not only do I need a rubber, which I don't have, but I also need to wait a little longer just to make sure I really DO want to fuck. And you talk about impeccable logic? Sounds to me like I just got fucked!" 

"Shit! You can fuck me anytime you want. If you want to call me at three in the morning sometime when I'm fast asleep I'll let you come over just so you can get your rocks off. If you want to fuck in front of Tommy Trojan between classes, just let me know. I wouldn't care if the whole fucking student body watched. My pussy is willing to take your dick deep inside anytime you want as long as you have a rubber."

I suddenly realized that what I had thought was a done deal had suddenly become undone and I probably wouldn't get laid after all. I suspected that the rubber was only a ruse, an excuse to avoid intercourse with me. Had she been afraid of pregnancy or disease she would have brought up the subject the night before. She hadn't been that drunk. 

"I'm assuming that I'm not going to lose my virginity today?"

"That's right, Bucko. The last thing I need is to drop out of school due to a pregnancy. I'm too young to start raising babies, and I'm not going to subject myself to a quack with a coat hanger. I suppose you're going to say that you can get dressed and run to a pharmacy and then come back fully prepared, but that's too much work and it would spoil the mood. Why don't we just drop fucking from the equation and do everything else."

"What do you mean 'everything else'?"

"There's a lot more to sex than just fucking," she said. "If the purpose of fucking is to create children then it's important, but if the purpose is to have an orgasm, there are lots of other ways. Fucking is the best, but there are lots of alternatives. Being a fat, dumpy, loud, crude, ugly slut I've had lots of opportunities to improvise."

My cock had started to deflate when I heard her announce that there wouldn't be any fucking today, but now it was getting hard again. If fucking was the +10 on the bell shape curve I was now being offered at least a +8. It certainly sounded better than a –10 which I suspected would be all I could hope for at this point.. If she could grasp the concept of an eighteen-year-old college freshman being a virgin then I should be able to grasp the concept of being able to choose the kind of sex I wanted. Right? Wrong! Despite my resolve to be as candid and frank and open as she was, I was still only a virgin and suddenly afraid of frightening her off with some of the more fantastic visions of uncensored lust that I was currently considering. 

After mulling it over for a few seconds I simply said; "OK, what did you have in mind?"

"Jesus! You're not very imaginative, are you? If you gave me an hour I could come up with a list of a hundred things that would excite the shit out of me and make me cum, but I can start with a few if you can't think of any of the top of your head. To begin with your mouth is about three inches away from my cunt right now. You could start by spreading it open and sticking your tongue in.. While you're at it, I can lay the other way and suck on your cock at the same time. That's what is known as a 69. If you're really into sticking that pole of yours in me then I might as well tell you that I'm not a stranger to taking it up the ass. I can't get pregnant if you cum there. Or, if you'd rather cum while I'm sucking you, that's OK too. I don't mind the taste. If we're lucky Carole will walk in the front door. She usually carries rubbers around with her and she'd probably fuck you, or better yet we could have a threesome. Maybe if I'm lucky Nick will be with her and she'll have two rubbers. That way you could watch me fuck him and I could watch you fuck her. If you're adventuresome we could go out on the balcony and play around where people could easily see us. We could mutually masturbate each other and or we could masturbate in front of each other and watch each other's technique. With me there are no limits except relating to pain. I'm not into bondage or sadomasochism. Some of the more kinky things don't turn me on but I certainly don't have any objection to them. Everybody's entitled to his or her own fantasy, and I like to please as much as be pleased. I had a boyfriend once who enjoyed sucking my toes. It seemed silly but as far as I was concerned that was OK as long as he indulged me in my fantasies as well."