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The Angel

By: Charmed26726



It was two months after my mother was killed. She was my best friend and now she's gone. She was gone and I was so angry. I was so angry with God, but I was even more outraged at my father. He was behind the wheel and he killed her. I drove everybody away, even my girlfriend. I only went to school to escape my life at home. 

I was walking down the hallway at school when I heard Tommy calling my name. I turned. "Hey, Tommy," I greeted.

"Hey, do you want to cut third and fourth and go find some action?" he asked me.

"Why not?"

My drinking began after a big argument with my father. I ran out of the house and that was the night that I met Tommy. He shared his whiskey and it really helped to calm me down. I've been drinking ever since. So, after lunch, Tommy and I, along with Tommy's girlfriend, Cheryl, went to my house and I took a couple of bottles of whiskey from my father's liquor cabinet. Then we headed to the junkyard. There was an old shack right outside of the junkyard that was our hideout when we had a sudden urge to cut school. We sat there and slowly drank the whiskey.

"So, what's with you and Cara?" Tommy asked me.

"I don't know," I replied. "She hasn't been around."

"How come?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do," Cheryl said. "That," she said and pointed to the whiskey bottle in my hand, "is why she hasn't been around. The more you drink, the further away she goes. Haven't you noticed?"

"I guess."

My father wasn't home that evening when I got home. As I walked by his bedroom, I noticed my parent's wedding picture sitting on my father's dresser. I walked over to the dresser and gently picked up the picture. It was in a silver frame. My mother looked so beautiful, like an angel. She loved my father so much. No matter how bad he treated her, she still loved him. I could tell by the look in her eyes when she looked at him. She adored him and he killed her in every way possible. 

"What are you doing in here?" My father's harsh voice made me jump and I dropped the picture and the glass shattered. He looked at the picture on the floor and then at me. In silence, he came toward me until his chest touched mine. He wrinkled his nose, like a dog.

"You've been drinking, haven't you?" he demanded.

"Yeah. So what?" I replied. 

"So what? Do you realize…?" his voice trailed off. "Look what alcohol did to your mother! She's dead, Danny!"

"Yeah. No thanks to you!"

"Why are you doing this, Danny?" he asked.

"It's the only way, Dad," I replied. "It's all I can do to make the pain stop!"

"It's not the only way, Danny," he insisted. "You could see somebody." 

"See a shrink? No way! I'm not going to end up like you!"

His hand swung around and hit me so fast that I didn't realize it until I was on the floor, my hand caressing my already swollen cheek. I looked into my father's very wide eyes.

"Danny," he said. "I'm sorry. I…"

I jumped up and ran out the door. I ran to our hideout behind the junkyard and I stayed there all night. The next morning, I talked an old man into buying me a bottle of tequila from the local liquor store. I thanked him and went back to the junkyard. I drank it and then consumed the worm. I was trashed and soon passed out on the floor of the old shack.

I awoke to someone shaking me. I opened my eyes. Cara! I sat up. "Cara!" I cried. "Cara, is that you?"

"Yes, Danny," she replied. "I'm here."

"Oh, Cara!" I cried, throwing my arms around her and pulling her close to me. "It's really you. I've missed you so much. But…why are you here? Cheryl said you didn't care anymore."

"I didn't," she said. "I didn't care. I hated you. I hate the alcohol. I didn't want anything to do with you."

"Why the change of mind?" I asked.

"More of a change of heart," she corrected. "I love you, Danny, way to much to stand back and watch you ruin your life." She picked up the empty tequila bottle. "This will kill you, Danny. Look at what it did to your mother."

"I know what it did, Cara," I said. "She's dead."

"Is that where you want to end up?" she asked.

"I don't care," I said. 

"You don't mean that, Danny," she said. "Why are you doing this to yourself?"

"Like I told my father, Cara, it's the only way that I can stop the pain. I can't let her go. I can only forget that she's gone."

"You can get help, Danny," she said. "Talk to somebody."

"Cara, I can't."

She sighed and stood up. "I love you, Danny. I really do. But I can't help you if you won't let me. If you need me, you know how to find me. Good-bye, Danny."

She turned and walked away and I burst into tears. I lay down on the floor of the shack and I cried for hours. I cried until there were no more tears left to cry. I went home later that day. My father was passed out on the couch. I went to the liquor cabinet and took a bottle of scotch. I went to my bedroom and drank every last drop. Soon, I passed out, too.

A few weeks later, Tommy and I were our way home from a party. Tommy was driving. We were both drinking, but I had more than he did, so we decided to let him drive. We were almost home when Tommy lost control of the car and everything turned into night.

I woke up to the brightest to the brightest light I had ever seen. I had to squint my eyes because it was so bright. Someone was standing over me.

"God?" I said, my heart racing.

She laughed. "No." Her voice was soft. "I'm Grace. I'm an angel."

"Am I dead?"

"No," she said, with a laugh. "Not for many, many years."

"Why are you here?"

"To help you help yourself," she replied.

"God sent me an angel?"

She nodded. "Yes. God loves you, Danny, but he hates what you are doing to yourself."

"What I'm doing," I said, "is trying to forget."

"No, Danny. You are killing yourself, inch by inch, just like your father did," she said.

"My father?" I said. "He's dead?"

She nodded. "I'm afraid so. He drank himself to death."

"He killed my mother," I said.

"Not intentionally," she said. "He loved her, in his own way. His heart shattered when your mother died, but now they are together and they're happy. Your mother wants you to be happy. She wants your life to be better than her own."

"She told you that?"

"Yes."

I sighed. "Why does God even care?" I asked. "After everything I've done, I should be in hell."

"No!" she cried. "No, Danny. Never, ever, say that. You are his child and he loves you. He'll forgive you, but you must want his forgiveness. Ask him, Danny."

"I don't know if I can," I said, tears running down my cheeks. "What does he want from me?"

"He wants you to be happy and the alcohol won't help. You have to stop."

"But I can't," I said. "I just can't."

"You can, Danny. You can," she insisted.

Then she was gone. I lay there for a long moment. I looked up at the stars. The sky was full of them tonight.

"God," I said and cleared my throat. "God, I'm sorry. When my mother died, I didn't know if I could go on without her. She was my life and I blamed her death on my father. Alcohol was the only thing I had to turn to, until now. Please, forgive me."

I heard sirens approaching. I rested my head on the ground and I closed my eyes. When I woke up, I was in the hospital. My left arm was bandaged. I was sore everywhere. A nurse walked in and smiled when she saw that I was awake.

"You're awake," she said. "How do you feel?"

"Like hell," I replied.

"It can't be that bad," she said.

I looked at her face and froze. "Grace?"

She looked at me. "What?"

"Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"I don't think so. I'd remember such a cute face."

Suddenly, I realized that I felt different. Something inside me was gone. The craving was gone. The craving that made me want the alcohol was gone. And the dark cloud that followed me constantly was gone. My body felt…new, I guess.

I little while later, Cheryl stopped by, along with Cara. "Hi, Danny," Cheryl said. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm so sorry, Cheryl, about Tommy. He was my best friend and I know how much you loved him."

"I'm sorry, too," she said. She put a vase full of flowers on the table and looked at Cara. "Well, I'll go and give you two some time alone. I'll see you around?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

Cheryl left and an awkward silence filled the room for a moment. Then Cara spoke. "So, how are you?"

"Better, Cara," I said. "So much better. I think…I think the accident woke me up. It's like I've been asleep all this time and I was awakened. I saw the light, I guess you could say."

She was staring. Tears ran down her cheeks. I reached out and took her hand into mine. I gently pulled her down to me and I held her while she cried.

"Thank God," she whispered. "What if I'd lost you, Danny?" she sobbed. "What if it were you instead of Tommy? I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You won't have to find out, Cara," I promised. "It's over, Cara," I said. "The alcohol. It's over. I'm finished I'll never touch another drop."

"How can you be sure, Danny?" she asked me.

"I'm positive," I promised.

"Good."

I've been sober for nearly a year now. My life with Cara is wonderful. I always said that I'd never believe until I saw Him. Now…I believe. I believe with all my heart that miracles can happen. Anytime. Anywhere. 

"Andrew!" a female voice called. "Andrew!" I turned and there was Samantha, running to catch up to me.

"Hey, Samantha," I greeted. "What are you up to?"

"Not much. You?"

"On my way home."

"Can I ask a favor?"

"Sure."

"Finals are coming up and I was wondering if you'd help me study for my geometry final? It'll be a miracle if I pass it."

"Miracles so happen, you know?"

"I know, but can you help?"

I smiled. "Sure. My house tonight?"

"Sure. Thank you, Andrew."

So that night, Samantha and I sat on the couch in the family room, listening to country music on the radio and going over her geometry notes. For some reason, she seemed so much more beautiful than she ever did. It was strange. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. She looked at me. Our eyes locked. We stared for the longest moment and then, as if it had a mind of its own, my hand reached out and caressed her cheek. Her skin was so soft, nearly taking my breath away.

"Andrew, we should really be studying," she said, gently.

"I know," I said. "I just can't help myself. You are so beautiful."

There were no other words spoken when I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers. It was so soft and I wasn't sure if it had actually happened. When the kiss ended, I looked into her eyes and I saw something there that I had never seen before. There was a spark in her eyes. The sight made my heart pound with happiness, because I knew what it meant. I kissed her again and soon I found myself wanting her more than I had ever wanted anything in my life. My lips left hers and kissed her neck. She moaned. When my hand found her breast, she gasped and pulled away.

"I'm sorry, Samantha," I apologized. "I moved too quick."

"No, it wasn't that," she promised. "You just…shocked me."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she cut me off. She took my hand and placed it on her breast. Then she placed her hand on my cheek and stared into my eyes. "Make love to me, Andrew," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I stared into her eyes and I could tell that she was serious. I kissed her and she slowly pushed me backward until I was lying on my back. She threw one leg over me and sat on top of me. She kissed me and then she moved down my chest, peeling my shirt away as she went. We heard Devon's truck pull up in the driveway and I quickly swept her into my arms and hurried to my bedroom, locking the door behind us. I quickly pulled her into my arms and kissed her. My lips slowly moved over her body, not wanting to miss an inch of her. We were both beyond ready when we finally became one. She cried out and dug her fingernails into my back, but I never complained. Several times, I found myself holding my breath. It was that intense. When it was finally over we laid there, in silence, for an awful long time, waiting for our hearts to slow. I slid off of her and lay beside her. I took her hand into mine and kissed the top of it.

"Are you all right?" I asked her. "Did I hurt you?"

She looked at me, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, and brought her had to my face. "No," she said. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I love you, Andrew. So much."

I smiled. "I love you, too, Samantha."

I rested my head on her chest and soon we were asleep. When I woke up the next morning, I had almost forgotten the night before until I saw Samantha lying beside me. I couldn't help, but smile. She was so beautiful. It was like a dream, seeing her beside me. It was like she was too beautiful to be with me, you know? That was the moment that I knew I was in love. I loved this beautiful woman lying beside me. I rose and pulled on my jeans. I went across the hall to the bathroom. On the way back, I ran into Devon in the hallway. He was my oldest brother. Chris came after him. He only stared at me and then went on into the family room. Chris came out of his bedroom a moment later. He looked at me for a moment. Then he came closer and sniffed at me like a dog. 


He looked at me and grinned. "Vanilla," he concluded. "Who's the girl, Andy?" He was the only person that called me Andy. I hesitated. "Andy?"

I looked into his eyes. "Samantha," I said.

His eyes widened. "Our Samantha?" I nodded. He laughed all the way into the family room.

I shook my head and went back into my bedroom. I stood at the foot of the bed and watched her sleep. Then I climbed into the bed beside her, gently, so I wouldn't wake her. My eyes traveled over her small body. Every inch of her was perfect. Pure beauty. When I moved my fingers over her stomach and between her legs, she stirred.

"Andrew," she whispered. 

She didn't open her eyes. I slipped one finger inside and she arched her back and cried out. Our lovemaking was different this time. Intense. Later, with her in my arms, I fell asleep. We woke up in each other's arms. It was perfect. Never was waking up so wonderful. 

"You know what?" I said.

"What?" she said.

"I'm hungry."

She laughed. "I guess you would be," she said. "Worked up an appetite, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," I replied and kissed her. We rose and we made cheeseburgers. Nobody else was home, but soon the gang arrived.

Cal looked at me. "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded, although he already knew the answer.

I smiled and looked at Samantha. "In Heaven."

Weeks later, everyone was there, at my house, as usual. We rented movies and ordered a pizza. Chris and Cal were in the kitchen, playing videos on the small television. Samantha and I were sitting on the front porch, holding each other.

"Samantha," I said.

"Yes."

I hesitated. Was I really going to do this? I loved this woman and when I woke up with her beside me that morning, after we made love, it felt so right. I wanted that back and I wanted that permanently.

"What is it, Andrew?" Samantha asked, worry in her eyes.

I looked into her eyes and I ran my hand over her cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Andrew," she replied. "Is there something wrong?"

"No," I said. "What would you say if asked you to marry me?"

"What?"

"I'm curious," I said.

She stared at me for a moment. "Well," she finally said. "These past weeks have been the most romantic and most wonderful days of my life. I've been so happy. At this moment, I'd probably say yes."

"Would you really?"

"Definitely."

I looked at her for a very long moment. "Well, I'm asking."

She stared at me. "You're serious?"

"You know I am."

"I…" her voice died out as we heard the screech of tires coming around the corner of our block. Shots rang out and Samantha fell to the ground. Moments later, I fell beside her. The front door opened and my brothers stood over us. I didn't move for several moments. Then I looked at Samantha. She was still. I reached out and took her hand. I squeezed it gently.

"Samantha," I said, my voice shaking. She didn't respond. My heart pounding, I looked at Devon. "Is she…?" I couldn't say the words.

He and Chris exchanged glances. I knew then. They didn't have to say anything. Samantha was dead and suddenly, I felt strange and I was cold. I looked at everyone. I held onto Samantha's hand. I refused to let her go. I didn't want to. Not yet. I closed my eyes and remembered everything. I fell in love with her in less than twenty-four hours. I lost her in less than ten. Some trick Satan played on us, huh?

"Fight it, Andy," Chris said. "You have to fight it."

I looked at him and I knew that he knew. I was dying. There were two holes in my chest and I'd bleed to death before anyone arrived to help. I turned my eyes toward the sky and said a silent prayer. Moments later, everything went black.

Devon and Chris looked at each other. Their baby brother was dead. Samantha was dead.

"At least they're together," Cal said, his voice trembling.

Chris stumbled forward with a sob. Devon caught his little brother. "Easy, Chris," he said. "There's nothing we can do now. He's in God's hands now."

The Angel Across the Hall



Maria was an angel; there really was no other way to put it. Well, maybe savior or goddess or something like that, but angel just seemed to fit her better. She was a kind, merciful, loving spirit encased in a lovely body with a gentle face and a beautiful heart. Just when everything in Carrie's life seemed bound, bent and determined to bring her to her knees in agonized surrender and defeat Maria appeared to make it all better which just her presence, her kind words and soft loving touch.

To think now that Carrie had almost shot Maria down when she made her first overtures of friendship was almost unbearable, but it was true. She'd almost missed out on the best thing to ever happen in her life because she didn't know what to say when her beautiful, friendly new neighbor kindly invited over for a coffee that quickly turned into her first real friendship since moving out of her parents house into her brand new apartment a good hundred miles away from everyone and everything she knew. It was for a job and a chance to continue her education on her own time and with her own money at somewhere else besides the crappy party school she'd previously dropped out of. 

Not that any of that had anything to do with why she almost said no to Maria when she offered her a cup of coffee and some conversation while they both waited for the only two functioning dryers in their building to be empty. No, that was more because Carrie was just a naturally shy person. In fact, most people who knew her back home would have been shocked to even see her talking to Maria. She was just one of those people that took quite a bit of effort to meet new people and turn them into friends, but there was just something about Maria that made her feel almost instantly comfortable around her from the very first moment they ran into each other as well the many times that followed. 

It wasn't that Maria did anything unusual. She just kept on trying until she broke through. It was almost like she actively wanted to befriend Carrie for some reason that Carrie just couldn't fathom. Every time they ran into each other Maria just seemed to find a way to chip away just a little bit more of the wall Carrie put up around herself and Carrie just let her do it. Why? She had no idea, but she did. There was just something about her friendly new neighbor that made Carrie want to let her break down her defenses.

Maybe it was just loneliness brought on by the fact that she was so far away from home. Maybe it was just boredom with her life of classes and slaving away at a job that barely paid her rent and bills most months. Maybe it was just nice to see a friendly face that wasn't checking out her tits or her ass whenever they thought she wasn't looking. She didn't really know, but after about a month of making small talk in the laundry room and exchanging smiles in the hall she began to realize that she actually looked forward to it.

But it wasn't only that. Maria was hardly the only person who made overtures of friendship to Carrie frequently. She was just the only one that even piqued her interests. Even the cute guy who worked at the gas station around the corner who made a habit of flirting with her in nice, low key fashion when she stopped in was usually rewarded with nothing more than a shy smile. Same for Marcus, her co-worker who wasted a lot of time and energy trying to talk her into going out with him after work or any number of men who just couldn't help but try to pick her up no matter how many times she shyly shot them down for reasons that weren't even clear to Carrie herself.

There was just something different about lovely Maria, with her bright green eyes, lovely light brown skin and long, silky looking black hair that made Carrie's heart go all aflutter whenever she even hinted at going to a bar with Carrie in a casual, non-committed fashion. Even when Carrie was sure it was nothing but idle conversation between two twenty something girls she couldn't help but hope that someday they actually would go to a bar or a club together or anywhere really and not just because she was bored or even lonely. No, deep down she knew there was something more, something deeper. Sadly, this feeling scared the crap out of her even though she occasionally got the feeling that she wasn't the only thinking along those lines.

Of course, during moments when Carrie felt like being truly honest with herself, it was pretty easy to see that that feeling, that vague, little hint of mutual attraction was the reason she both feared and desired allowing Maria entry into her life. Not because it was the first she'd had those feelings. In fact, it wasn't even the second or the third. No, Carrie had had those feelings many times before, but only once had she allowed herself to explore those feelings and it had been both the most wonderful and most depressing chapter of her young life. In one beautiful, glorious night she'd discovered what sex was truly all about and at the same time she'd destroyed a lifelong friendship in a way that could never be repaired. It was a memory of both overwhelming joy and deep, dark sadness, but it was a memory Carrie wouldn't have given up for the entire world. Still, she obviously wished it could've ended better, but it hadn't and that fact helped make it hard for her to try and find that good feeling again out of the fear that she'd only destroy another friendship by doing so.

The girl in question, Hanna was her name, had been her best friend for as long as Carrie could remember and they'd shared everything with each other over the many years of their friendship. Hanna had been there through thick and thin. Every event that seems so important when girls are young, every thing that builds those memories people grow to cherish and regret, had been shared between them both. They smoked their first cigarette together(and hated it), their first beer, first joint, skipped their first class and even lost their virginity on the same night, in the same house separated by only one thin wall and both found the experience equally lacking.

And through everything there was always something brewing just below the surface that they both felt, but could never articulate until one night when they were all alone, drunk on Boone's Farms Strawberry Hill reminiscing about the night many years ago, by eighteen year old girl standards, they'd shared their first "practice" kiss laughing about the silliness of it all when it just kind of happened and before Carrie could even register it fully they were kissing once again.

And then again and again and then clothes were being tossed to the floor, kisses moved from softly exploring each other's mouth to kissing and suckling each other's breasts and beyond until they fell asleep in each other's arms pressing their naked bodies together seemingly at peace with what they'd done. It had been the single best night of Carrie's young life and she'd never slept better. Her dreams had been peaceful and everything seemed right with the world until she woke up the next morning to find herself alone.

Still, she'd only been mildly disappointed until she tried calling Hanna only to receive no answer. She even allowed herself to write it all off when Hanna still hadn't answered or returned any of her phone calls a full week later, but when Carrie finally broke down and went to Hanna's house to see what was up Carrie had finally run out of excuses. Hanna, Hanna's mother had told her reluctantly and with more than a bit of sympathy in her voice, didn't want to see Carrie, didn't want to talk to her and didn't want her to call her anymore. 

For a moment Carrie had stood there on her best friend's doorstep absolutely stunned while Hanna's mother tried her best to soften the blow until she just turned and walked back to her car completely and totally stunned. She'd even managed to make it halfway home before it finally hit her and the tears began to flow freely and barely stopped for what seemed like days, almost weeks after. In fact, as summer drew to a close and she headed off to her first semester of college she was still not quite right. Even her mother, not usually the most caring parent in the world, had noticed and even tried to find what was wrong to no avail before Carrie headed off to school where she found some small amount of solace by throwing herself into her schoolwork and the softball team while ignoring almost all invitations of friendship for several long months.

It wasn't until her second semester that she finally began to break out of her shell a bit and make friends again. Still, though, that was it. Just friends and nothing more. Even though opportunities to further explore the wonderful aspects of sex that she had discovered with Hanna arose more than once she never allowed it to advance past the flirtation stage. Oh, she'd wanted to more than once, but she could never find the strength to overcome her fear that it would just lead to more heartbreak and sadness and instead she just went without and settled instead for her fingers and toys and the occasional safe, and expected, but incredibly disappointing one night stand with some random, but emotionally safe guy.

Eventually she dropped out of college after her sophomore year, but that didn't put an end to the frustrating boondoggle that was Carrie's sex life. Every time she made friends with another woman it ended terribly as soon as she found herself developing feelings that went beyond friendship or worse sensed the same feelings from another woman. Her relationships with men were hardly different. Every time she "befriended" a man it ended after a night or two of boring, bad sex and then she'd make herself scarce until they got the point and left her alone. 

And that was her sex life until she saved enough money to buy her own computer. Then her sex life became slightly more interesting if a bit more pathetic. Her miraculous discovery of the wonders of internet porn allowed her to explore the joys she'd denied herself in the safety and privacy of first her own room and then her own home. The internet also allowed her the freedom to flirt (and more) with other women through a filter. Carrie even allowed herself to make plans to meet a few, but she always chickened out at the last minute. 

She seemed destined at the young age of twenty three to be doomed to the life of a lonely spinster who's only join in life was her small collection of sex toys and a hard drive full of girl/girl porn. In her sadder moments Carrie even contemplated getting a cat or seven just to make it official. As far as she was concerned she was doomed to live her life alone and unsatisfied for all eternity.

But then there was Maria, the beautiful and friendly girl across the hall who seemed to have no clue how much Carrie wanted her as they made idle conversation in the laundry room and hall. Maria also, Carrie was sure, had no idea how often she entered Carrie's thoughts late at night when she was abusing herself to images and stories of women making love to other women. If Maria ever were to learn this Carrie was absolutely certain that she would be nothing short of horrified at the thought. Who wouldn't be? As far as Carrie was concerned the answer to that last question was no one. 

Hell, even without knowledge of all the naughty, evil sexual thoughts constantly brewing in the back of Carrie's mind Carrie still found it impossible to imagine that Maria could ever really seriously consider being her friend. Carrie's self esteem was simply too low to imagine anything good coming into her life, so when Maria asked Carrie to her apartment for a friendly cup of coffee one slow, boring Saturday afternoon when neither had nothing at all to do besides wait for the dryers to empty at first she could think of nothing for a second. Her mind just went blank and she froze for what seemed like forever before a little voice that she wasn't even sure was her own finally answered for her with a simple yes even as another much louder voice inside her head screamed out for her to run and hide. Still, she did as she said and followed Maria to her apartment forcing herself to smile and keep making small talk as they walked even as her insides tore themselves to shreds. 

Fifteen minutes later however she was laughing and chatting happily as Maria poured her a second cup of delicious, warm and perfectly bitter coffee as they got to know each other in the cozy confines of Maria's wonderfully decorated apartment. As Maria kept refilling her cup and the conversation kept coming and coming Carrie quickly found herself getting more and more comfortable despite herself. By the time the coffee gave way to some ice cold Irish cream that evil little voice of fear deep in her mind was beginning to fade farther into the distance until Carrie, for the first time in what seemed forever, found herself actually having fun just being with another woman.

After that coffee together on laundry day quickly became something of ritual for them. Then coffee whenever they met in the hall or had free time away from work was added to the mix. This was followed by wine in the evenings on weekdays and soon the seemingly inevitable happened: Maria invited Carrie out to the club.

Of course, at first Carrie rejected the notion. After all, Maria had no idea how hard it was for Carrie to even drink wine with her. The inhibitions the alcohol loosened were almost maddening. Carrie was absolutely certain that one of those nights alone with Maria and a bottle of chardonnay the dam was almost certain to break, but she still kept right on doing it because it simply felt too good just to be around beautiful Maria sipping that delicious nectar and talking through whatever movie they were watching. Throw in some pumping beats, warm sweaty bodies and the sight of her crush dancing to that beat however, and it was just too much. Something bad was just bound to happen.

Luckily, however, Maria would have none of that. She absolutely insisted and left Carrie with no other choice: she was going to the club with Maria come hell or high water and that was all there was to it. Finally, Carrie caved.

"Okay, okay," Carrie had said in defeat, "But on one condition: I'm not going there to pick up any guys."

"Fine with me," Maria had responded with an odd little smile before making Carrie shake on it and adding "It's a date."

After that Carrie tried to maintain her free and happy mask, but as the evening wound down and she crossed the hall to her own apartment Carrie's mind was racing with both fear and anticipation. Still, the fear and anticipation were hardly enough to prevent her from heading straight to her room and fingering her pussy to a rapid and intense orgasm as she thought of Maria's warm, sweaty body pressed up against hers dancing at first across her mind's eye before Carrie's imagination quickly took the image to a very lewd and sexual place. Then she did it all again and then again until she finally fell asleep from self induced exhaustion only to awake the next day and head to work under a fog of trepidation over what was to come in only a few days time.

As the weekend grew closer this odd mixture of fear and lustful anticipation seemed to hang over Carrie like a cloud. It was so bad that she was almost grateful when Maria had to work late on Thursday night and therefore couldn't hang out just so she could have some time with her thoughts. Of course, the thoughts she was having were hardly what Carrie would call helpful as she basically spent the night splitting her time masturbating to internet porn like a horny teenage boy while picturing Maria in her head the whole time and pacing the floor worrying herself half to death over what was to come the following night.

When she woke up the next morning Carrie wasn't any better. She woke up feeling anxious and worried. She went to work feeling distracted and only half there. Even as she headed home she was still in a daze worrying about something she knew damned good and well she had no business being worried about. Of course, the knowledge that she was being an idiot worrying herself half to death over something that she should've been looking forward to didn't make her feel any better. In fact, it only made her feel worse.

By the time she got home the fear and anxiety hadn't abated one little bit. She tried to distract herself by smoking a bowl and putting a bit of extra time and caution into picking out her clothes and getting ready, but as the time ticked away relentlessly her irrational fear just seemed to keep building and building. Her heart seemed to be threatening to pound its way out of her chest until Maria knocked on her door at exactly 7:45 in the evening dressed in a tight yellow t-shirt for some band Carrie had never heard of and low cut jeans that were tight in all the right places and the cutest pink tennis shoes for nice mix of sexy and casual. Carrie was almost stunned silent at the sight of her, but if Maria noticed she didn't let it show. She only smiled sweetly and said "Ready?"

"Yeah, well, almost... I just..." Carrie started to lie before Maria interrupted her.

"That's not what you're wearing, is it?" Maria said with a frown as she looked Carrie up and down disapprovingly.

"What?" Carrie said sincerely. 

"Nope," Maria said simply still frowning and gazing at Carrie's body and the admittedly non-sexy clothes that she'd chosen to wear before reaching out and grabbing Carrie's hand pulling her into Carrie's own bedroom. "That is not going to work. C'mon, you need better clothes than this."

"But... but..." Carrie tried to protest only to be silenced by Maria's will.

"I don't wanna hear it," Maria said calmly, but with a hint of playful defiance. "There is absolutely no reason a girl with a body like yours is going out to the club dressed like that. You look like a housewife. You need to show off your assets even if you're not trying to get laid."

Carrie was at loss for words. Part of her was more than a little miffed at being led around by her hand by someone she barely knew while having her fashion questioned while another part was absolutely elated to hear Maria compliment her body. It was a fairly even matched battle that continued even as Maria opened her bedroom door and urged to find something better.

"But I just want to get drunk and dance," Carrie finally spat out as Maria opened her closet. "I'm not trying to get picked up by guys or anything."

"What does that matter?" Maria said vaguely as she continued to invade Carrie's environment by searching through her closet before adding "Where's that cute black t-shirt you have?"

"What?" Carrie asked somewhat taken aback by the fact that Maria had noticed a t-shirt of hers.

"You know," Maria continued "That black one with the... Ah Ha!" and with that she pulled out the t-shirt in question and then continued searching through Carries clothes until she'd assembled an outfit from Carrie's admittedly small selection that met with Maria's approval and then told her to change. Carrie had no idea why she wasn't pissed, but she wasn't. There was just something about the whole thing that was both amusing and wonderful. It was also oddly elating to allow Maria to take control for a bit and she couldn't help but like that.

Finally, after heading to the bathroom and changing into her new outfits of her tight black t-shirt, her favorite naturally holey pair of jeans and some sneakers she'd actually forgotten she'd owned Maria finally granted her permission to leave with her with a exclamation of "Sexy!" followed quickly by "Now let's go get drunk and dance!" and then they were off.

By the time they got home Carrie was absolutely stunned by how much fun she'd just had. Maria was an absolute blast to hang out with it. Sure, she was a bit pushy at times, but as the night worn on Carrie found herself enjoying just going along with it all and enjoying every minute of it while wishing the night would never end. They both managed to drink themselves stupid while dancing wildly for almost three hours straight. Not with guys either, but which each other. Sure, some guys danced with them from time to time, but Carrie barely noticed as her eyes were locked on the lovely vision that was constantly before her dancing like a women possessed and claiming that nearly every song the DJ played was her favorite until Carrie just couldn't take anymore thanks to her sore feet. Luckily Maria wasn't the type to ignore her friends suffering and happily insisted that they go home.




The Angel Across the Hall



Even the cab ride home was fun as Maria just talked and talked and even occasionally sang while encouraging both Carrie and the cab driver to join her which Carrie did gladly while the cab driver just checked them both out in the mirror and declined with a tired grin. Normally Carrie would've been deeply offended by the obvious ogle, but at that moment she couldn't have cared less. She was far too busy laughing at the beautifully manic drunk girl sitting next to her singing along badly to Pat Benatar just for the hell of it. The laughter didn't stop until they were at their respective doors where Carrie made to unlock hers and go to bed.

After that their weekends at the club became a permanent fixture in both of their lives. A fairly expensive fixture for Carrie, but one that was well worth it. Maria may have been slightly bossy and extremely extroverted in a way that completely contrasted itself with Carrie's more introverted and relaxed way of being, but it worked. They were fast friends and they both seemed to love every minute of it even as they grew closer and learned more about the other.

Still, as they did get to know each other more Carrie couldn't help but wonder about her new friend. Mainly, the more she got to know Maria the more Carrie found it unusual that Maria had very few friends even though she, like Carrie, was relatively new to town. For some reason she expected a girl like Maria to have simply tons of friends. She even said so one night while they were hanging out in Maria's apartment sharing yet another bottle of wine while again pretending to watch a movie. Maria had just laughed it off and told her that she honestly didn't want a bunch of friends before changing the subject so she could bitch about her boss.

Of course, as they grew closer, Carrie was hardly the only one shocked by the emptiness of the others life. Maria herself was shocked when Carrie let it slip over another bottle of wine on another night that she hadn't had sex in almost a year. In fact, shocked wasn't even the right word. Appalled and aghast at the travesty of it all was a much more accurate description of her reaction. The mere idea of a girl as cute as Carrie going without for that long was apparently an injustice of cosmic proportions in Maria's world.

"How do you cope?" Maria said as the conversation wore on, "Do you at least masturbate? Dear god, tell me you at least masturbate. If you don't I don't think I can hang out with anymore. That's just inhuman."

"Of course I masturbate," Carrie replied with a slightly embarrassed chuckle thanks only managing a response thanks mainly to the wine, but also in part because some of Maria's openness was beginning to rub off onto her. 

"Oh, thank god," Maria came back emphasizing her relief at hearing this with one of her many dramatic gestures. "I was almost convinced you were some kind of sexless monster disguised as a hot girl for a second there."

"Oh, shut up," Carrie had replied now laughing more out of true amusement than embarrassment even as she felt her heart warm up at Maria referring to her as hot. "It's not that bad. Besides, guys suck. Having sex with them is a waste of time."

"True, true," was Maria's reply to that before adding something that nearly blew Carrie's mind. "But whoever said you just had to have sex with guys?"

Carrie barely managed to sputter out a "What?" in response before Maria's cell phone rang and killed the most interesting conversation they'd had to date as Maria excused herself to talk to her boss leaving Carrie to her thoughts until fifteen minutes later when Maria came out of her bedroom and informed Carrie sadly that they'd have to call it a night because she had to go in to work much earlier then she'd originally thought and therefore needed to go to sleep. She then gave Carrie a friendly hug and told her to come by as soon as she got off work the next day before allowing Carrie to walk across the hall still in something of a daze.

The rest of that night was a blur of confused thoughts and wanton masturbation at the mere thought that Maria, beautiful, wonderful Maria, had really said what Carrie thought she'd said. Her poor vibrator got a major work out and actually ran out of juice before she was done with it as Carrie's drunken brain kept flashing with images of Maria making love to faceless woman over and over again until Carrie passed out from sheer exhaustion only to be woken again and again by dreams of a similar bent.

The next few days were once again a strange kind of living hell for Carrie. She kept waiting for Maria bring it up again, but it never happened and Carrie just couldn't bring it up herself. Oh, they still talked about sex. They were both fairly normal young women, but they never got back to the idea that it was okay for girls to have sex with girls. They never even got close. Even when, with some alcohol fueled bravery on her side, Carrie tried to subtly steer the conversation in that general direction Maria found a way out of it. By the time Saturday night came around that week with their standing plans to go to the club Carrie was beginning to think that it might somehow have been the opening to some odd, awkward joke all along or maybe something Maria hadn't meant to say.

Still, their plans stayed the same despite Carrie's frustration and confusion. When Saturday night came Carrie was at Maria's door to make sure she was wearing Maria approved clothing the usual half hour too soon just in time to catch Maria wrapped in a towel that wasn't quite big enough to cover everything as she answered the door with her usual smile dripping with water and looking absolutely stunning as she did so. So stunning, in fact, that Carrie actually had to concentrate to stop her eyes from taking in every square inch of visible flesh and make herself respond appropriately to the invitation to come on in being offered by this beautiful vision before her. The knowing smirk that flashed ever so briefly across Maria's before she turned away to head back to the bathroom as she politely offered Carrie free reign over her living room.

In the short time she'd been friends with her neighbor this was the closest Carrie had come to seeing Maria naked and after the thoughts that had been awakened in her sex starved mind following their abortive conversation from a few days back it was almost too much. Still, she tried to take a deep breath, clear her head and relax and had even succeeded before Maria popped back out of the bathroom a few minutes later no longer dressed only a towel, but still hardly what one would call dressed in tiny, black boy shorts and nothing else as she made idle conversation and dried her hair in a way that made her not insubstantial breasts bounce hypnotically before she turned back around the corner leaving Carrie stumbling for a response to a question she'd barely heard. 

Apparently Carrie did a fairly good of a job of guessing at a good answer and after that nothing else of much interest happened until Maria, fully dressed, dried and smelling vaguely floral popped out of her bedroom, grabbed Carrie by the hand playfully and together they half walked, half skipped out to the parking lot to smoke a cigarette and wait for the cab which arrived only moments later. Carrie, with a good bit of effort, managed to maintain her cool as they waited even though naughty thoughts kept running through the back of her mind. 

By the time they made it to the club and did their usual scan of the crowd on the way to the bar Carrie was almost completely back to normal, but there was just something about Maria that seemed a bit off. It was nothing obvious, really. It was mainly just an edge to her behavior that wasn't quite the standard fare. It was so subtle that after a couple of drinks and some more scanning as they waited for the music to really start pumping and the floor to fill with lovely young bodies Carrie had almost managed to convince herself that it was all in her head. Maria wasn't touching her any more than usual and those nonexistent touches weren't lingering any longer than normal. The twinkle in Maria's eye was just a trick of the lights and the wicked edge to Maria's usual smirk was all in Carrie's head. It was all just wishful thinking and nothing more.

After a few more drinks and some actual dancing Carrie was absolutely certain that it was all in her head. There was nothing different about Maria's behavior. She was just being her usual vivacious self. Dancing, laughing, and flirting randomly with anyone who crossed her path. There was nothing strange, no hidden messages or anything of the sort. Carrie was just seeing what she wanted to see. She was sure of it.

A few more drinks and some more dancing later, however, and Carrie's certainty had begun to abandon her once again. The DJ was, as usual, starting to get a bit merciless. The music seemed to be getting louder, the beat seemed to driving harder and faster and the floor seemed to be simply packed with young, sweaty bodies pressing against each other as the alcohol(among other things) clouded everyone's minds and Carrie found herself losing control of her senses.

Now, it was hardly unusual for Carrie and Maria to dance together. Neither girl minded the feel of the others body pressed against their own. In fact, Carrie loved it for obvious reasons, but until the other night she'd always assumed that for Maria it was nothing more than dancing and a bit of tease for the guys whose eyes always found their way towards them when they were dancing close and Carrie didn't blame them one little bit considering Maria's idea of dancing close was essentially grinding her various body parts against Carrie in a very close approximation of stand up sex. It was torture, but it was a form of torture she both loved and was willing to suffer.

As Carrie placed her hands on Maria's hips and felt Maria's hot, sweaty body pressing against her own while the beat filled her mind and body Carrie had no reason to expect that that night would be any different. She could already feel her arousal building to a point that if she'd been sober she would've been forced to blush with embarrassment and shame, but at the moment she simply did not care. Then, however, something absolutely wonderful happened that scare her half to death, something that went well beyond teasing or playful sensuality that Carrie was used to seeing from her friend. Maria kissed her and Carrie, without a second's hesitation kissed her back.

For several long seconds that seemed to last for a small eternity there they were alone in the middle of crowded dance floor locked in a loving embrace while several drunken, pervy men (and a fair share of women) cheered them on enthusiastically. Not that Carrie heard the cheers. Not right away, anyway. No, for the duration of that wonderful, steamy embrace she was lost in the feel of her lips playing gently against Maria's as their tongues reached out to each other and their hands began to paw wantonly at each other's bodies. They were no longer dancing. They were just two people lost in a wonderful moment until suddenly the moment was over in a flash of guilt and shame.

It was Carrie who broke the kiss once her brain returned to its normal, fearful state. Maria seemed perfectly content to keep it going for a good while longer, but Carrie, in her panic, completely failed to notice that all important fact. Even as Maria smiled at her before using her hand to pull Carrie back into another kiss Carrie could do nothing but apologize for no reason before turning and leaving the dance floor.

Carrie would've ran if it had been possible. If there weren't so many people about packed tightly together like sardines she would've been gone in a flash. She wouldn't have even thought twice about running the eight miles back to her apartment leaving her lovely neighbor to wonder what exactly had gone wrong with their perfect moment. As it was she only managed to get just outside of the club and onto the sidewalk before she felt a soft, sweaty hand grasping her own with gentle force that caused her to turn on her heals until she was once again staring into Maria's beautiful eyes. Carrie had just enough time to begin spitting out a tearful apology before she was once again locked in another sweet, lustful kiss that killed any attempt to continue speaking.

Once again there were whoops of approval from the small crowd hanging outside waiting for cabs and simply loitering about, but this time Carrie didn't even notice. The little voice of doubt in the back of her head was now silent. The only thing she was feeling or thinking was how wonderful it all felt. She was so lost in the sensation that she wasn't even brought back to reality when Maria pushed her up against the hard cement wall and pressed herself against Carrie's body. Carrie's head actually bounced off the wall a little, but it didn't matter. She no longer cared. Her mind was lost and all she knew was that this was the single greatest moment of her life.

Sadly, it couldn't last forever. They were far too drunk to control themselves. Hands were going places that were ill advised in such a public setting. It was inevitable that someone would put a stop it especially when Carrie's hands found their way past the waist of Maria's jeans to feel her soft panty clad ass. Still, that hardly stopped them from getting more than a little pissed when a bouncer from the club broke them apart as the throng of onlookers booed and hissed in the background. 

How the large mountain of a man remained calm as Maria yelled at him and the drunken voyeurs called him a fag and other less than politically correct things was beyond Carrie, but he did. It took him and Carrie a full five minutes to calm Maria enough for them to get in a waiting cab where Carrie had just enough time to tell the driver where they lived before she was once again locked in another embrace with Maria that lasted until they seemingly magically appeared at their apartment in what seemed a record time. The driver had a very large grin on his face and obvious erection as Maria threw a couple twenties at him and pulled Carrie from the cab and made her run with her up the stairs to Maria's apartment while Carrie laughed both nervously and with a touch of pure amusement until they were finally alone in Maria's living room.

"What are we doing?" Carrie said in a breathless voice as she leaned against the door both to catch her breath from the run up the stairs and to keep her balance. They were the first real words she'd spoken directly to Maria since trying to apologize for the kiss she didn't initiate. She was answered by another kiss, but that wasn't enough. It was a serious question that required an answer, so reluctantly she broke the kiss and repeated the question.

"I know you want this," was the somewhat terse response that Carrie received from Maria who was obviously a bit perturbed that Carrie wanted to talk.

"How?" Carrie said in a quieter voice actually curious if she'd been so transparent in her more than just friendly interest in her neighbor.

"Please don't question it," Maria responded looking somewhat pained, her voice pleading for this conversation to be over. "I know you want this. I want it too. I've wanted you ever since I first saw you moving boxes into your apartment. Do you have any idea how long ago that was?"

"But..." Carrie began only to be interrupted.

"There's no but. Haven't you ever noticed that I never have any guys over? Haven't you ever noticed that I never really dance with anyone else but you? We both want this Carrie. I know we do. Stop wasting time questioning shit. I've wanted to kiss you for so long, I've wanted to taste you, to kiss you're body, to make you come, to fuck you for so long and I know you have, too. I can see it in your eyes, Carrie. I see it every time you look at me. Don't over analyze it. Just let it happen. If you're worried about regrets, don't. Just let it happen. Please, just let me make love to you."

There was nothing Carrie to say to any of that. It was all so absolutely true, as reasonable and right as anything as unreasonable as lust and love could be. Maria wanted Carrie and Carrie wanted Maria. What else was there to say? Carrie couldn't think of a thing. Instead she simply decided to just do as Maria said and give in to her desires and for the first time she brought her lips to Maria's and once again they were locked together in a kiss. 

This time there was no doubt, no hesitation and nothing to interrupt them as they kissed and fondled each other. Once again Maria pushed Carrie back against the wall as they remained near the door. Neither girl wanted to be the one to break up the embrace almost afraid that to do so would be invite more pointless questioning, but they needn't have worried. As hands began to feel for bare flesh and make their way down the back of Maria's pants and up the front of Carrie's shirt there were no more questions to be asked.

When Maria's gentle hands found their way to Carrie's small, soft breasts Carrie could only sigh and bury her hands down the back of Maria's jeans to squeeze and knead Maria's silky smooth cheeks and pull Maria tighter to her. The kiss deepened and Maria's soft caress became more aggressive until the sigh became a groan. 

Still, they just stood there by the door unable to pull away from each other even as their mouths separated and their kisses began to migrate. Their hands migrated as well. Maria's soft touch found its way to Carrie's back and then downward while Carrie was drawn to Maria's soft bosom and on and on as they tried to taste and touch every square inch of each other that they could as they stood there pressed together. 

T-shirts were pushed upward and jeans unbuttoned. Soon they were an absolute tangled mess, but still they did not move from where they stood. Not even when Maria's hand found its way down the front of Carrie's panties nor when Carrie, after a moment of pause brought on by an involuntary shiver, returned the favor. Fingers began to explore the soft, wet folds of both girls aroused pussies and hips began to gyrate in response as their mouths returned to each other.

It didn't take long however for both Maria and Carrie to cease their exploration and begin to finger each other in earnest. They continued to try kiss to each other, but they met with limited success. They were both simply too aroused, too keyed up to even think about restraint and they didn't. After only a few moments of vigorous digital stimulation both Maria and Carrie were almost panting into each others mouth as their knees threatened to buckle and their pussies quivered and clenched around the other's probing fingers almost in unison and then their knees turned to rubber and they collapsed on the floor.

Maybe it was the alcohol that was still coursing through their bloodstreams, maybe it was because they just spent the night dancing and their legs finally decided they'd had enough or maybe it was just the fact that orgasms they'd just given each other were simply too intense for their young bodies to handle. The reason was unimportant. It was the result that counted and the result was just too much for the two drunk girls to handle and soon they were laughing loudly at themselves as Carrie rested on top of Maria's shoes with Maria more or less on top of her.

They laughed for a good minute or more. They weren't sure and they were hardly keeping track. All they knew was that by the time they stopped both Maria and Carrie were actually in pain from it all. Not enough pain to stop them from wanting to kiss each other one more time nor enough to stop them from chuckling into each other's mouth as they did so.

"That was fucking awesome," Carrie in a quiet, happy voice after the kiss broke, "But I don't think your shoes like my back too much."




The Angel Across the Hall



"Ah," Maria said in a playfully mocking tone before placing a kiss on Carrie's forehead. "Poor baby."

"Shut up. You're not the one with a heel jabbing you in the back," Carrie came back quickly. This time Maria didn't respond with words. Instead she kissed Carrie one more time then slowly and somewhat clumsily got up and pulled Carrie up with her and kissed her one more time before taking Carrie's hand and leading her into her bedroom.

Upon entering Maria didn't bother to close the door or turn on the light. She also didn't get on the bed immediately or even kiss Carrie once again. Instead she just turned towards Carrie and stood there looking into Carrie's eyes for a long second still holding Carrie's hand in her own. She'd smiled at Carrie and Carrie smiled back somewhat nervously waiting for something to happen. 

"Are you nervous?" Maria said in a soft voice as they stood their together in the semi-dark room lit only by the street light outside.

"Yes," Carrie responded in an even softer voice than Maria's. She wanted to lie, to sound brave, but she couldn't. Even after what had just happened at the club and in the taxi and the first moment they were truly alone Carrie could still feel butterflies fluttering about in her stomach at the thought of making love to Maria. Their mutual collapse at the door had apparently brought them both back down to earth a little bit, but that didn't stop Carrie from wanting Maria any less than before.

"Don't worry," Maria said her voice still quiet and gentle as she reached for Carrie's face to stroke her cheek lightly while lessening the amount of space between them. Carrie took a deep breath as she closed her eyes in anticipation as Maria closed the gap between them slowly.

"I'm not worried, I just..." Carrie began almost without thinking her eyes opening slightly to see Maria's face coming closer causing her stop talking

"Shhh," Maria responded with another smile there lips once again mere centimeters apart.

"I jus..." Carrie started again only to be quieted by another a shushing sound from Maria and a finger on her lips.

"Don't worry about it, Carrie. I know, you know, we both know that we both want this. That's all that matters. Now shut up and let me kiss you." And with that Maria closed the distance between the completely and once more they were kissing.

For a long minute there they stood in Maria's room just kissing and holding each other. The nervousness was once again fading into the background. The urgency of earlier was also absent. Both were replaced with a feeling of glorious contentment and joy at the feel of this simple, soft kiss shared between two close friends that seemed to go on and on until Maria once again pulled away from Carrie.

"I think it might be time to go to bed, don't you?" Maria said and Carrie could only nod in response before Maria continued "Good. Now... if you don't mind..." For a second Carrie was confused at this last bit until she felt Maria's hands pull on her t-shirt that had been shoved up past her breasts and then she raised arms to allow Maria to take it off of her. Next she followed Maria's hints and returned the favor before sitting down to allow Maria to pull off first her shoes and socks followed by her jeans and then her panties leaving her naked on the edge of Maria's bed as she watched Maria's pants fall to the floor with her panties and took in the sight of her beautiful neighbors thin, lovely brown body with her lovely just right breasts, smooth flat tummy and beautiful shaved pussy. 

Even in the relative darkness of Maria's room she knew it was simply the most beautiful body she'd ever seen. With in moments though she no longer had to settle for just the darkened image as, with small step to the side from Maria, it was now being bathed in a soft yellow light from beside Maria's bed. Her lovely neighbor was even more stunning in the light.

Maria seemed to feel to same way as she stood for a moment obviously taking in Carrie's equally lovely body with her eyes. Carrie had never experienced anything like this before. She almost blushed, but somehow she managed not to through some miracle even as Maria again closed the small amount of distance between them and leaned over for a quick kiss.

"I hope you don't mind the light, but I never make love in the dark," Maria said before pushing Carrie onto her back and urging her to scoot towards the center of the bed. Maria then crawled onto the bed herself and crouched over Carrie's body before kissing her again and continuing, "I want to see you and I want you to see me." Maria followed this with another kiss while allowing a hand to begin tracing invisible lines up and down Carrie's body as Carrie sighed softly into Maria's mouth from the combination of it all.

Maria kisses seemed to be intoxicating. Carrie never wanted them to leave her lips. It was such a simple pleasure, but it was such a loving, intimate one that she just wanted to keep going on and on, but it was not to be. Not that the kisses stopped. Quite the contrary, really. Maria just had no intention of only kissing Carries soft, warm lips and instead seemed to desire to kiss every inch of her new lover that she could. Any disappointment Carrie may have felt over this was short lived as she quickly discovered the pleasures of a patient lover exploring her body.

At first the kisses remained mostly confined to Carrie's face, paying special attention to her earlobes and her neck. Occasionally Maria's soft, flexible tongue would slide out to lick or tease some sensitive spot and Carrie would find herself squirming just a little bit in response. Maria's teeth also made an occasional appearance, but not too much and always in a gentle way that also met with approval from Carrie's body. Maria's hand also managed to find several nerve endings that Carrie had never been aware of before as it continued to trace across her skin with no purpose beyond just touching and exploring.

Carrie's hands were also doing a bit of exploring in their own way as they moved slowly across Maria's smooth skin. At first she kept them on Maria's back sliding up and down the smooth skin there, but eventually, as Maria's attentions began to wander lower so did Carrie's. Not to Maria's lovely bottom, but to the wondrous, pillow like mounds that were Maria's breasts. She squeezed them, held them, caressed them and just generally enjoyed the feel of them in her hands. 

The small, brownish nipples at the center of each breast were especially fun to tease and caress. Every time her hands found their way to one or both Maria seemed to jump just a little or sigh softly. It was such a wonderful feeling for Carrie to know that she could make the lovely girl who was now kissing her way slowly down Carrie's body with such a simple gesture. 

Soon, however, she discovered an even better feeling when Maria finally kissed her way down to Carrie's breasts. Carrie's hands quickly found their way to Maria's soft mane of hair. Not only because it was becoming a bit of a stretch as Maria continued to maneuver herself down Carrie's body, but also because as Maria began to suck and nibble on her nipples she began to find it hard to concentrate on trying to make Maria squirm as her body began to react to the stimulation it was receiving.

It had been a long time since anyone had made her feel so good just by playing with her breasts, just by licking and nibbling the soft flesh with patience and tenderness. No man had ever managed it. At most they'd just taken the time to get the nipples hard and then moved on. Even her one previous female lover hadn't done much more than that, but Maria was. 

It wasn't like Maria just sucking on her nipples non-stop, either. No, she was making love to Carrie's entire breast, teasing out sighs with an experts touch even when she was completely ignoring the sensitive bumps of flesh at the center. Even the soft little nips she placed on the tender flesh of her breasts were shiver inducing.

Of course, when Maria did deem it necessary to lick, suck or nibble on one of Carrie's nipples it was exquisite. There was no other word for it. Everything was just perfect. Maria seemed to just know what to do to make Carrie groan and shiver with just the slightest flick of her tongue or a quick bite. After a few minutes she could almost swear she was simply dripping from her cunt. She'd never been more aroused in her life. 

She was almost disappointed when Maria's sweet mouth began to move even further down her body. Even though Maria's destination was clear Carrie couldn't help but let out a whine of disappointment when Maria began to kiss her way slowly down her ribs. Maria had just smiled at Carrie and giggled lightly before continuing to Carrie's tummy where she worked her way to Carrie's navel and gave the piercing there a kiss. She then made sure to kiss Carrie's belly a few more times before once again heading south.

As Maria's sweet face got closer and closer to Carrie's pussy Carrie found herself staring down at Maria intensely. Her hands left Maria's head as Maria inched her down Carrie's belly at a tortuously slow pace and instead Carrie reared up on her elbows to watch and will Maria to her pussy until Maria pushed back and made her lay down again while saying in a sweet, sultry voice "Relax." Carrie did as she was told for a good ten seconds and then she found herself tensing up and letting a loud groan as Maria's placed a kiss on her pussy.

The kiss was soft, barely even a touch, but it was enough to make Carrie quiver and Maria laugh a little despite herself before veering off to place another equally soft kiss at the junction of Carrie's thigh followed by a lick and another more vigorous kiss before moving to the other side and doing much the same while Carrie continued to squirm under Maria's teasing attentions. The squirming and the soft, little moans only seemed to encourage Maria to tease Carrie even more and she did just that as she kissed and licked almost every square millimeter of flesh on Carrie's crotch and inner thighs except the wonderfully moist and puffy lips of her pussy and the sensitive, hooded nubbin of Carrie's clit.

Carrie was now positively dripping with arousal. Her pussy almost ached with need. She simply couldn't hold out much longer. The teasing was wonderful and it was great to finally have a lover who wasn't either too nervous to be patient or simply too inconsiderate to care, but she needed to come soon or she felt she might explode. Luckily for her Maria had taken notice of the somewhat frustrated tone in Carrie's moans, groans and deep, loud sighs and even as she continued to tease her by biting Carrie's inner thigh once more Maria knew it was finally time to fully taste her new lover.

Carrie's reaction was instant and satisfying for both of them. As soon as Maria reached out her tongue to lick her way up then down Carrie's moist slit Carrie's back arched and she hissed loudly as she took a deep, quick breath which she managed to hold in for several long seconds until Maria's fingers spread her open and gave her another long, slow lick. At the point it all came out in one long, loud groan that filled the room as Carrie thrust her hips towards Maria's mouth. Her hand found Maria's head once more and pulled Maria tightly to her as their eyes met and Maria began to truly make love to Carrie.

For the next few minutes the bedroom was filled with the panting moans of Carrie as she humped herself against Maria's face in an almost violent fashion and Maria, hiding her smile on the inside, ate Carrie's beautiful, fragrant and deliriously delicious pussy like a woman possessed. Maria didn't even think of trying to stop Carrie from humping her face or pulling her hair. The most she did was place her hands on Carrie's thighs to hold them open as latched on to Carrie's cunt with her mouth and did her best to hold on for the duration of the ride.

Maria didn't have to hold on for very long at all. Maybe it was just the excitement of the moment, the fact that Carrie's most secret wish had come true or maybe Maria really was just that good with her mouth. It didn't matter, really. It just didn't matter at all. All that Carrie and Maria knew was the after a few moments of intense oral stimulation Carrie's body and mind seemed to exploding with pleasurable sensations as the most intense pleasure of her young life coursed its way through her. Her movements became erratic, her breathing stopped and started, her hips humped violently one moment and then froze in place the next as the muscles of her abdomen clenched and unclenched and her head fell back on the bed while Maria just kept licking and sucking away. 

No words escaped Carrie as the wave rode through her. In fact, she barely made any sound at all beyond the noise of labored, erratic breathing. Maybe a few sounds that came out something like high pitched squeaks, but that was all. There just was nothing really to say. It was all just so perfect that words could only cheapen it. 

If that had been the last thing she felt before dropping dead on Maria's bed she would've died a happy woman, but luckily she was both very much alive and Maria was nowhere close to being satisfied with just two measly orgasms from Carrie. She hadn't even thought of stopping as the waves made their way through Carrie. In fact, making Carrie come as quickly as she had just done only made Maria more determined to make her come again. 

The third orgasm for Carrie took a bit longer than the first two. She was more relaxed, more in control of herself. Even when Maria began to insert her long, thin fingers inside of her Carrie managed to control herself better than before. It took effort, but she managed it just so she could prolong the sensation just a little bit longer. Maria too seemed content to slow their love making just a tad if only to allow herself more time to taste Carrie's sweetness and enjoy the feeling of making another girl squirm under her touch.

"Oh," Carrie said in a soft voice as Maria lapped at her clit and pumped two of her fingers in and out of Carrie's cunt. "That's so good... so... oh!" Her words were lost as Maria inserted a third finger inside of her.

"Do you have any idea how good you taste?" Maria said momentarily prying her mouth away from its work only to once again cut off any response by spreading her fingers a bit inside of Carrie while going back to work on her pearl. It was that, the words, the fingers and Maria's devilish tongue that finally brought about the Carrie's third come of the night. Not instantaneously, but it was the beginning of the cascade. 

"Oh god," Carrie said only seconds before it hit her, "I think... I..." The next sound out of Carrie's mouth wasn't a word exactly. It was more a long, deep scream of pure pleasure as she came with a full body shudder. Her hands instantly found their way back to Maria's long, silky mane to once again hold her mouth tightly to her pussy as she quaked and squirmed and even squirted a little while her pussy clenched around Maria's fingers.

Then something amazing happened, something Carrie had only read about in smutty little stories. As she came and while Maria mercilessly kept right on attacking Carrie's clit with her mouth while fucking Carrie hard with her fingers Carrie could've sworn that she felt another orgasm building on top of the one that was still racking her beautiful young body. It was impossible and yet, just as that third orgasm faded and she was just beginning to think about trying to catch her breath it hit her and it hit her hard and then it hit her again and then again and then, with an amazing show of strength of will she had to put a stop it and instead of holding Maria's face tightly to her pussy she was pushing her away and making Maria remove her now sticky, wet fingers from her pussy as she gasped for breath and wallowed in the glorious afterglow of three, no four, wonderful orgasms right on top of each other.

"Oh my fucking god," Carrie said and then repeated it a couple more times in quick succession while Maria laughed lightly and crawled on top of Carrie to give her a quick kiss that became more quite rapidly only to be broken up a moment later by Maria's amused but questioning face.

"Did you..." Maria said with a proud smile already glued to her face before amending herself and continuing. "Did I just give you multiple orgasms?" Carrie could only laugh at this and nod before pulling Maria back into a kiss after she gained control of her smile enough to make it possible.

There were a few more breaks for laughter and teasing, but soon the kiss became another healthy make-out session as the girls pawed at each other and their kisses traveled around each other's face and necks and they rolled around the bed with each other for several long minutes until they finally settled back in the middle with Carrie on top as they enjoyed the feeling of their bodies, now covered in a thin patina of sweat, pressing and sliding against each other.

It felt good to do just that and only that and, honestly, Carrie could've done it for hours. There was something else on her mind, however. Something that just seemed more and more necessary as the moments ticked on and their kiss lingered, but something which had been on her mind long before this night had turned out the way it did. It was something she'd wanted to do ever since she first saw the beauty that lived across the hall who was now underneath her and who had just made her come in ways she had never thought possible. In short, Carrie wanted to taste Maria and give to her at least a portion of what Carrie herself had just received.

Still, it was hard to pull herself away from the simple, relaxing pleasure of just laying a top of her friend kissing her and enjoying the contact. The longing to give pleasure and not just receive it was strong though. It pulled on Carrie despite the fact that she was also more than a little nervous about going down on another girl for the first time in quite awhile. It wasn't enough to kill her desire. It just delayed her a little while as she gathered her courage and then began to make her way down Maria's body.

Carrie wasn't quite as slow or patient as Maria had been, but she still endeavored to take as much time enjoying her new lover's body as much as possible. Kissing and suckling on Maria's nipples, kissing her way across her breasts, feeling Maria squirm a little under her and coo in response was all so wonderful and exciting. The taste of Maria's sweat and the softness of her skin as Carrie kissed it was intoxicating. Even the way Maria seemed to shiver involuntarily when Carrie's hair brushed the sensitive skin of her belly as Carrie scooted further down her body was beyond pleasing. Words would just never be enough to describe any of it ever.

Words also would have failed to describe the draw of Maria's wet, aroused pussy as Carrie worked her way downwards. The smell, the warmth it radiated and, finally, the visual beauty of it when Carrie finally found herself face to face with it was simply glorious. A virtually hairless slit with just the thinnest layer of peach fuzz obscuring its lines. The lips were puffed up with arousal and it almost shined from wetness in the soft light of Maria's bedroom. It was so beautiful that Carrie actually found herself staring at it in almost stunned disbelief until Maria laughed at her in her usual light manner.

"First time?" Maria asked and Carrie was almost offended, but quickly shook it off when she realized that they'd really never discussed it before. Also, in a way it was her first time. Her one and only sexual experience with another woman (or girl, really). They'd both been so immature) had been a drunken, awkward affair performed in darkness and overshadowed quickly by the repercussions that followed in the light of morning. Carrie may have eaten pussy before and seen them in porn, but she'd never had a chance to see one up close and personal with the knowledge of what she was about to do with the fragrant, wet flower before her weighing heavily on her mind. 




The Angel and I



I had been watching Heidi Klausman for ten years. That's when she joined our church. She was eleven years old when she joined and she looked fresher and more beautiful with each passing year. I was two years her senior but still hadn't worked up the courage to ask her out. She never dated so I was sure she would turn me down. That summer we went to the church retreat on Deer Lake. 

I was stretched out on the beach trying to figure out how to get her attention. She suddenly threw her beach blanket down next to mine. She hopped onto it and smiled at me. I almost had a heart attack. The girl of my dreams was smiling at me clad only in a bikini.

"Hi Joseph. You don't mind if I lay here beside you do you?" Her big brown eyes sparkled.

"Of, of course not," I stammered.

She was just so beautiful. I completely lost my composure. She had enslaved me with just a simple greeting. I was doomed.

"I've seen you around the church a lot. Why haven't you ever talked to me?" she pouted.

"Gee Heidi; I was afraid you would tell me to buzz off. You have no idea what your beauty does to me." I whined.

"Do you think I'm beautiful?' she asked.

"Don't you own a mirror? You are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

"Well Joseph, there is no reason to be afraid of me. I've been waiting for years for you to come talk to me. I was beginning to believe you were a little light in the loafers."

"You never seemed to date anybody. I was sure you wouldn't want to go out with me. I'm not exactly movie star quality in the looks department."

"You have other assets that are very attractive. You have a terrific body. You sing really well in church. You are kind of shy and you are not pushy. I can tell from the way you walk that you are athletic. I know you are smart because you are an engineering student. See? You have a lot going for you."

"Assuming any of that's true, why do you want to talk to me?"

"I've been trying to get you to notice me for years. Nothing seems to have worked so I decided that I would have to make a direct approach if I wanted to know you better. Well, I have now made the approach. What are you going to do about it?" she challenged.

I was absolutely stunned that the girl of my dreams would talk to me. I lay there huffing and puffing on the beach blanket. I knew that the ball was in my court. I reached for her hand and she immediately gave it to me.

"Can I share your blanket with you?" she asked.

Hell, she could share anything she wanted with me. Her soft, warm little hand felt great.

"Of course you can!" I responded.

She slid over next to me. Her hips touched me sending a spark of lust up my body. I didn't recognize that sensation, you see, I had never dated either.

"There is a mixer tonight at the Grange hall and our group has been invited. Would you go with me?" I pleaded.

"Oh, yes," she replied enthusiastically. "I love dancing and good, clean parties."

She snuggled in closer to me and put her arm around me. I squeezed her and she grinned. She looked at the growing bulge in my bathing suit. I tried to roll away so I could hide it but she held on so tightly I couldn't get away.

"Heidi, please," I begged.

"It's alright Joseph. Really, I'm flattered to cause that reaction in you. I don't have any experience with sex, but I'm not entirely ignorant about it either." 

"Heidi you must think I'm a Neanderthal. I have worshipped you for so long that I can't help it. Please forgive me."

"Don't worry about it Joseph. I think it's sweet."

She suddenly pressed her lips to mine. I was shocked. I had never kissed a girl before like this. I felt her tongue brush my lips. I didn't know what to do so I brushed her lips. Her tongue found my tongue. Our mouths opened and we were engaged in a deep lover's kiss. I was in heaven. I had read about this kind of stuff but I never thought I would actually get to do it. We broke the kiss. I licked her ears and her neck.

"Oh Joseph, you sly dog! I thought you didn't know anything about girls. That was great! We'll have to do more of that."

She pulled me over on top of her. I could feel her breasts pressing me through the bikini. My heart was pounding a thousand miles an hour. I kissed her again.

"That's more like it," she said when we broke the kiss. 

"Is this a dream? I know that any minute I'll wake up and you'll be gone."

"You're partly right. I'll be gone, but I'll be in the lake. Come on, let's go swim."

She jumped up and ran for the lake. I jumped up and followed her. I saw her delicate little rump disappear beneath the water. I dived in after her. I was on the swim team in high school so I had no trouble catching her. We were shoulder deep in the water when I reached for her. I pulled her to me. She giggled and tried to get away, although not very hard.

She pulled my lips down to hers and we were once again locked in a kiss. I felt her hand grab my hardon under the water.

"Hee, hee, I see you still love me," she teased.

I looked into her eyes. "I always will," I said.

She still had a firm grip on my dick. I reached down and rubbed her pussy through her bikini bottoms. Her hand went to her crotch and pulled the bikini to one side. Then she dragged my hand back to her pussy. 

"Just wait until I get you alone after the dance tonight," she whispered.

She pulled her bikini shut but she took her top off. I immediately grasped one of her breasts and thumbed her nipple. She started to wriggle in the water.

"I can't wait to taste that," I said.

Giggling, she put her top back on and sprinted for our blankets. It occurred to me that I had touched everything she had but I hadn't seen any of it.

"You'll see it soon enough," she giggled.

"You must be psychic. How did you know what I was thinking?"

"It's pretty obvious from the way your tongue is hanging out," she smiled.

The afternoon was just shooting by. We talked and played on the beach blankets. The more I learned about her, the better I liked her. I wanted her as I had wanted no one else. I suddenly speed shifted from 'want' to 'lust' and then from 'lust' to love. By the end of the afternoon, I was her slave. If she had asked me to swan dive into a volcano I would have done it. I wanted badly to kiss her again. She must have read my mind because she moved on top of me and pressed her hot, sweet lips to mine again. I can't describe the emotions that were liberated by that kiss. I knew that if she wanted it, my bachelorhood would be gone.

As we finished the kiss I asked, "What now? I'll do anything you want."

"That's so sweet," she giggled, "All I want right now is to kiss you again. Then we'll go back to the lodge and get ready for the dance."

Her lips clamped on to mine and I was transported to a warm, happy place filled with her. She broke the kiss. My tongue was still hanging out.

"Gee, you look just like a puppy," she laughed.

I reeled my tongue in as she got up. From my vantage point on the blanket she was absolutely spectacular as she stood over me. She stooped to pick up her blanket and I got a good look at her breasts. My whole body tingled.

"Are you coming?" she smiled. She knew that she had given me a free shot.

I got to my feet, picked up my stuff and walked back to the lodge with her. Is it possible to describe the feelings of a young man in love for the first time? I think not. I was weak, my legs didn't work right, my sight was limited to wherever she was, my heart pounded, and in general, I was a mess. She kissed me again when we got to the lodge.

"I'll be down for dinner in twenty minutes," she said and she sprinted up the stairs. 

I made a dash for my room and did my best to make myself presentable. Twenty minutes later I was waiting in the lobby. I was still waiting thirty minutes later. Sadly, I hung my head and started back to my room. I was sure she had stood me up. I went inside and there she was. 

"You don't give up very easily," she chuckled. "I've been waiting here for almost half an hour."

Girls were strictly forbidden in the boy's part of the lodge. I knew it. She knew it.

"I feel so naughty," she exclaimed, "I just had to come to your room."

She was sitting on my bed. I didn't really know what to do so I sat down beside her. Suddenly I didn't care where we were. We were together and that's what counted. I held her hand. She squeezed my hand and kind of melted into me. We started a long, slow lover's kiss. By the time we broke it, I was sweating lightly. I felt her tremble in my arms.

"We better go get something to eat," I mumbled.

"Okay, then we'll go to the mixer and after that, I have something special for you."

"What would that be?" I inquired.

"I can't tell you yet. It would spoil the surprise."

We walked down to the dining hall being careful not to get spotted being in the wrong place. The church fed really well. We had some prime rib and all the usual accompaniments. We caught a hay wagon ride down the road to the Grange hall arriving in the early evening. Everybody jumped off the wagon and headed for the hall. Heidi grabbed my hand and led me around the side of the hall and into a little thicket. She stopped, turned around and grabbed my head. I surrendered to her sweet, soft lips.

"I just couldn't wait to show you your surprise," she giggled.

She pulled off her sweater and there in the fading twilight I saw her breasts for the first time.

"No bra?" I asked.

"It's hard to kiss them through a bra. You do want to kiss them, don't you?"

What a question! I would have walked barefoot through lava just to see them. I tentatively reached out and held them in my shaking hands.

"Come on Joseph! We have to get back inside pretty quick," she moaned.

I bent to her breasts and sucked one succulent piece of girl flesh and then the other. She was so soft and so tasty. I was getting carried away, sucking and nibbling harder and harder. I heard her groan.

"That's enough Joseph. We have to save some for later."

She pulled her sweater back on, leaving me with a major hardon and wet armpits. I knew at that moment I had to have her. She smiled at me. She knew I was hooked like a trout. She grabbed my cock through my pants and giggled.

"Is it always hard?" she asked with a mischievous little chuckle.

"Whenever it detects you," I panted. 

Hand in hand we entered the Grange. A cowboy band was playing some slow dance tunes. We didn't even get a table; we went directly to the dance floor. I held her close as we started to sway to the music. She pressed her hips against my ever present hardon and smiled at me.

"We've got to go sit down," I begged after the fourth dance.

"Why? Don't you like dancing with me?"

"It's not that. If I don't get some rest I'll have a little accident in my pants."

She laughed all the way to the table. When my dick calmed down, I got some lemonade for us. We sat and sipped our drinks.

"You know I'm in love with you, don't you?" I asked.

"My plan is working," she said, " I've wanted you so much for so long I just had to try to nail you. I hope you don't think I'm a brazen hussy or someone who does this with all the boys. I'm a virgin. The only thing I know about sex is what I read and see on my computer."

"You must have some damned good books," I answered. "I'd like to read 'em because I'm a virgin too."

"Well," she said, "That explains why you didn't drag my nubile young body off into the woods and do unspeakable things to me."

"Is that what you wanted?"

"I had considered it. I thought if I got you turned on I might not be able to turn you off. Frankly I don't know what I want. I've loved you from afar for a long time and now that I know you better my feelings haven't changed at all."

"Let's finish the dance and then we'll decide what to do," I suggested.

"Do about what?" she asked.

"Our burgeoning lust," I grinned.

I took her hand and led her to the dance floor. Once again she molded her body to mine. I could see my bachelorhood flying out the window. When the dance was over we walked all the way back to the lodge. We went down to the dock and sat and necked in the moonlight.

"You know I can't ever let you get away from me, don't you?" I panted.

"So who is running?" she asked and stuffed her tongue down my throat.

"The retreat is over tomorrow. Would you like to go to a movie with me?" I asked.

"Sure. Which one?"

"You pick the movie. I'll call you tomorrow afternoon when we get back to town."

"Sound like a plan. We better get inside while it's still dark," she said.

I kissed her in the lobby of the lodge and floated upstairs to my room. I had a very hard time getting to sleep and when I did all I could dream about was her breasts and her body. By the time I awoke in the morning I was a nervous wreck. We had breakfast together and then it was time to leave. I drove directly to my apartment, sprinted upstairs and got ready for the movies. I called her that afternoon.

"Did you pick out a movie?" I asked.

"Yes I did. I want to see Groundhog Day."

"Great! Where is it playing?"

"At the Stardust drive-in."

This was better than I had hoped for. 

"Great, I'll pick you up at six and we can have an early supper."

"Super! I'll be waiting for you."

Heidi was renting a small house about two miles out of town. It took me a long time to find it. I just knew she wouldn't be waiting.

She was waiting on her porch when I arrived. 

"Hi Joseph," she greeted as she jumped into the car and planted one of her patented lip locks on me.

I would have been content to stay in her driveway and smooch all night. No such luck.

"Let's go Joe. Where are you taking me for dinner?"

"I thought we'd go to the Ichibon. Do you like Japanese food?" I asked.

"Yes I do."

We ordered from the sushi menu and also had some shrimp and beef. The food was great. We still had an hour to kill before the movie started. I took her to the city park. We walked around the lake and sat on a park bench. I looked at her very closely.

"Tell the truth now. Why did you suddenly get brave and approach me?" I asked.

"To tell the truth Joseph, my biological clock is ticking. I didn't know what was happening until I talked to my mother. She told me that the only way to quiet the feelings I had was to stop being a prude and get with the program. I realized that most of my friends had already started families. I already knew who I wanted. So, I went out and got you! That's as honest as I can get."

"That sounded suspiciously like a 'yes' to a marriage proposal I haven't made yet." I replied.

"Well, you told me to be honest. A girl has hopes and dreams too, you know."

"I'll be honest with you too then. I knew when you made your 'direct approach' that my bachelor's days were over. I knew I would do anything you wanted."

She pulled me to her and hugged me tightly. She offered her lips and I greedily accepted. I wanted her so bad! 

"What I want is you," she whispered. "Let's bag the movie and go out to the lake."

"Okay."

We got into the car and headed for the lake. We found a secluded little pasture. I parked there, picked up a beach blanket from the trunk and spread it on the ground.

"I get to keep the blanket," she said.

"Why is that?" I asked.

"Because that's where the evidence of my virginity will be," she smiled.

I pulled her to me. We kissed in the deepening shadows. Her body was soft and hot. I pulled her sweater off and enjoyed her breasts. She took my shirt off and snuggled into my chest.

"Are you sure, Heidi?" I asked.

"Absolutely! Are you sure?"

"I'm sure and I'm ready," I gasped.

Off came the shoes. Off came the socks. Down came the pants then the underwear. I gazed at her pussy as darkness settled over us. I squeezed it. Her hand curled around my rock hard cock. I held her close with my hardon pressing into her belly. Her pussy was wet. I kissed it. Then I licked it. She drew in a sharp breath.

"Lick it some more," she whispered.

I buried my head between her thighs. My tongue contacted her vagina and I licked her from top to bottom. 

"Oh Joseph, don't stop. Please don't stop," she puffed.

She knew I couldn't stop. I found her little love bud, peeled its hood back and sucking it into my lips, tongued it. She screamed and her hips flew off the blanket almost dislodging me.

"Oh God Joe! I'm gonna cum! She yelled.

She trembled in my arms and came like a fire truck. I greedily licked up her juices. 

"Let's do it now Joe. I can't wait!" she panted.

I crawled up her body. She grabbed my cock and guided me to her entrance. I plunged through her entry, breaking her guardian and sliding all the way into her. She emitted a little squeak when her cherry popped but she didn't cry. 

"Fuck me hard Joe. I wanna cum on your cock." She ordered.

Ever her obedient slave, I thrust in and out gaining speed and power. Nothing in my experience had prepared me for the sheer pleasure and joy of this! It felt so good. 

"Don't stop. Don't stop!" she mumbled.

Stop? There was no way I could stop. Nature had taken control of my body. My cock was doing all the thinking and all it was thinking about was stroking her fine little pussy. The longer I did it, the more I wanted.

She was making little bleating noises. Occasionally she would scream. 

"More Joe, more, please more, faster, deeper, faster, deeper," she chanted.

She started trembling, then shaking. Her pussy clamped down on my dick in an attempt to drain it. I was determined to make her cum again before I did. She released an ocean of girl juice around my cock. Her pussy started a rhythmic pulse around my manhood, I stroked bravely on, enjoying every second of this, the most amazing experience of my life. I felt her quivering and I knew that this time there would be no holding back. As she came again I felt that wonderful feeling down deep in my balls. Lust overwhelmed me. I couldn't think or speak. I had no control over my body as I clung fiercely to her and emptied my seed deep into her center.

We lay shaking together as the enormity of our climax held us prisoner. 

"Heidi you've just got to marry me. I can't live without you anymore. You have captured me completely. I love you so much. I've got to have you all the time."

"You already have my answer. I love you Joe."

We lay there nude, kissing into the night. The feel of her naked body next to mine was exquisite. From that moment on I was totally hers.

"It's getting chilly Joe. Let's get inside."

"Your place or mine?" I smiled.

"Let's go to my place. I plan on making lots of noise." She smiled back.

From the time I walked through her front door it was apparent that she had carefully planned my entry into the legion of the happy suckers. She had some non-alcoholic wine on ice and some caviar in the fridge. 

"So, my trap snaps shut. I must have you. I promise we'll be happy together," she said as she served the caviar and poured the wine.

We were married two weeks later. Now after ten years and four kids she still looks as beautiful as the day found her on the beach. I love her more each day. Her boobs don't sag, her eyes still sparkle and she is still the best piece of tail on the planet.



The Angel and The Demon



~Been having a hard time with the next chapter of Two Worlds so I decided to post this story I've had for awhile in the mean time. Let me know what you think!

=^.^= Vixen

*

I looked around before entering the abandoned warehouse and heading towards the back. I stepped around and over some old machinery and rusted tools before getting to a back room and unlocking it. I heard the sound of metal chains rattling around and smiled before slamming the door, getting a small squeal and the chains stopped rattling. I came around the corner and saw my beautiful winged capture shaking with fear.

"P-please let me go. Y-you have tortured me enough. P-please!" she said, trying to back away from me as I came closer to her. I smirked at what she said and finally got inches away from her and ran my finger along her jaw bone.

"Most people wouldn't call what I've done to you torture my pet." I told the blue eyed light brown haired angel. I reached out and stroked her pure white wings, which made her whimper and shake more in fear. I stepped back and looked her over, like I did every time I had come in here. She had the perfect body, with size D breasts, a nice firm ass, and tantalizing curves. I reached out and traced those curves with a finger, getting another lovely whimper from her.

"P-please." She begged, trying to move away from me again even though the chains on both her ankles and hands prevented her from moving much farther than the place they were bolted to.

"Oh I plan on pleasing you and myself. You will be begging for more by the time I'm done." I said with a smirk, twisting one of her nipples and making her gasp.

"Please! I can't with your kind! I'll become fallen! Please I beg you! Spare me! Please!" She begged me, tears running down her cheeks. I groaned and reached down to pinch her clit, making her whimper again.

"You should know by now my pet that we demons will not be persuaded by begging. In fact it just turns us on more." I said before leaning down and capturing one of her nipples in my mouth. She tried to get away, struggling to just get my mouth away from her. I ran my nails down her sides while biting her nipple, making her cry out.

"Please! I will give you anything you want! Just please don't take this away from me!" She begged, sobbing. I was almost tempted to ask her what she had to offer but I am not a demon of greed. I am a demon of lust and her absolutely fuck sexy body was all I wanted. I leaned in close my lips less than an inch away from her ear.

"What I want is to fuck you until I can't fuck you anymore. I haven't had a girl as fucking beautiful as you in such a long time and I plan on enjoying every minute of it." I whispered hotly in her ear before sucking on her earlobe. She started sobbing again and I captured the other nipple in my mouth, sucking and nibbling on that one while she cried and begged me to stop.

"Please God, save me!" She cried out, making me cringe slightly. I rolled her clit between my fingers for that and reveled in the sound of her cry of pain and I swore I started to hear pleasure start to mix with it.

"He hasn't sent someone to save you yet my pet. What makes you think he will send someone now?" I said before nipping her neck and making her whimper again. I ran my hands slowly over her body, gently grazing her nipples with my thumbs and then slowly moving down her stomach. She started to pray out loud so I silenced her with a kiss, which she tried to pull away from but I gripped a handful of her hair with one of my hands to keep her lips against mine. I didn't mind that she didn't participate in the kiss but did think it was rather arousing when I finally managed to slip my tongue in her mouth and she bit it. I pulled away from the kiss then with a smile and then slipped a hand down to rub her clit.

"N-n-no! Please stop!" she half cried, half moaned. I smirked at that and started to suck on her breasts again while continuing to rub her clit and along her slit, never actually entering her but teasing the hell out of her. I felt her get wet as I did this and smiled, pulling my finger back to show her the small bit of moisture on my finger.

"It seems like someone is enjoying themselves." I said with a smirk as she started to cry more.

"No. No. No. P-please let me go. Please. I don't want this. Please." She begged, trying to close her legs and pull away from me more. I smirked and forced her legs apart, making her whimper and beg more. I then knelt down in front of her, wanting to taste the taste of an angel. I licked along her slit, moaning at the delectable taste of her most precious parts.

"You know if He didn't want his angels fucked he wouldn't have made you taste so good." I told her before starting to suck on her clit, making her cry out more and shiver. I reached around and grabbed her ass, pulling her closer to my lips as she struggled against me. She continued to cry and beg for me to stop but after a few minutes all she could do was pant and whimper. She started to shiver slightly and I reached up and pinched and pulled at one of her nipples. I smirked as I heard a small moan escape her lips and increased my efforts. Soon she was shaking more and little moans escaped between whimpers. She started to pray again so I nipped at her clit which made her cry out.

"Dear God! Please help me! I'm going to explode!" she exclaimed before crying out in orgasm. I smirked and licked up all her juices until she was panting and shaking slightly. I kissed up her body to her ear.

"You just had your first orgasm love." I whispered in her ear, which made her whimper and start to cry again.

"Please God, forgive me." She cried. I smirked and bit her neck, which made her cry out and then whimper. I then stepped back and started to slowly unbutton my shirt. She turned her face away when she saw me do this and whimpered again so I grabbed her face and forced her to look at me.

"Keep your eyes on me sweetheart. Or else." I said before stepping back again and finishing taking off my shirt, showing off my well defined abs. She was blushing and her eyes kept darting away and then looking back. I smirked and then locked eyes with her, making sure she was paying attention before pulling off my pants and boxers. My rock hard member was revealed to her and her eyes went wide and she blushed before she quickly looked away. I went back to her and captured one of her nipples in my mouth again, sucking on it lightly which made her whimper again. I reached down and rubbed her clit while doing so and after a minute I started to hear little moans between the whimpers again.

After a few minutes of this I reached up and unchained her hands. She looked at me with confusion before I gently pushed her to the ground, being careful not to be too rough and going down with her, making sure her head didn't hit the ground. She tried to push me off of her and I sighed and grabbed her hands, chaining them to the ground. She started to cry and beg for me to stop again but I was too far gone. I needed her body and I needed it now.

"It will hurt at first but then it will feel amazing." I whispered into her ear, the tip of my dick at her entrance. She whimpered and cried more and I kissed away the tears before slowly sliding into her. When I felt her barrier I quickly pounded through, knowing that that was the best way to do it. She cried out in pain and her beautiful white wings started to fade to black as she screamed in horrible pain. I held her through it, waiting for it to stop. Finally she stopped screaming and was just crying so I started to slowly move in and out of her. I captured one of her nipples in my mouth again and started to suck on it lightly. I heard her whimper and then moan weakly and smiled, increasing my speed just a little. She was still crying but I could hear her small moans of pleasure as I kissed up her neck, nipping a few places before kissing her lips gently. It surprised me slightly when she hesitantly kissed me back softly. I ran my hands slowly and gently down her sides and she shivered slightly and moaned through the kiss. I deepened the kiss and then licked her lips, asking for entrance. She hesitantly opened enough for my tongue to slip into her mouth. I thrust against her a bit faster and harder and she moaned more, sucking lightly on my tongue.

My hands slide slowly up her arms as I decided to try something. I unchained her hands and then slid my hands back down her arms and started to play with one of her nipples. She moaned and slipped her arms around me hesitantly. I pinched and pulled at her nipple while she ran her hands lightly down my back. I closed my eyes, enjoying her touches and the sounds of her pleasure and surrender. Soon she cried out in another orgasm and I fed on the wonderful energy of it. I clung to her tightly and orgasmed as well. When I came down from it I nuzzled her neck gently.

"That was amazing wasn't it, love?" I said with a smirk before kissing her neck gently.

"Yes. Amazingly easy." She said, sounding cold. The change in her voice shocked me a bit but not as much as the knife that was suddenly stabbed into my stomach. She pushed me off of her and stood up, the chains around her ankles suddenly just falling off as her wings returned to white and armor appeared on her body.

"You didn't think He would really let one of his angels go, did you?" she said with a smirk as I looked at her in shock and then looked at that knife.

"It's poisoned tipped. It should kill you soon. You have been a target for a very long time." She said, crossing her arms.

"You mean this was all a trick?" I asked weakly, feeling the poison start to take effect. "You angels are worse than us."

"We do what we must to preserve good." She said, watching me die.

"Well. Good to know you angels aren't completely sinless." I said with a weak laugh. "And don't try to deny it. What you felt was real. For a few minutes you lusted after me."

"But I-" she started to say but I held up my hand, starting to black out slightly.

"No. It's fine. You win." I said as I pulled the knife out of my stomach and laid back. "Thank you. You were the perfect last pleasure." I added in a whisper before I closed my eyes and let myself fall into death's clutches.



The Angel and the Devil



“Woke up this morning, blues falling down like hail, And I got to keep on moving, cause there’s a hellhound on my trail...” - Robert Johnson

The ringing was persistent and annoying, and when I was sure it wasn’t going to cease I snatched up the cradle, sighed deeply before I spoke.

‘Yeah?’ My voice was cracked and lifeless.

‘Daniel Tremaine?’

I coughed and automatically searched the bedside table for cigarettes. ‘Who’s this?’

‘My name is Detroit Jones, Mr. Tremaine.’

My hand paused over the table. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

‘I’m Detroit Jones.’

‘I’m sorry.’

If Jones picked up on my blatant rudeness he chose to ignore it. ‘I was given your number by an employer of yours, Mr. Tremaine.’ His tone was as dry and smooth as polished wood. ‘If you’re not too busy I could use your services.’

I was about to reply when a burst of coughing erupted from my throat. Jones waited patiently while I narrowly avoided bringing up a chunk of lung, and when I’d got myself under control he continued.

‘You sound like you could use some water.’

‘I could use a lot more than that, Mr. Jones,’ I replied, easing myself off the bed and feeling the familiar headache resurface as I sat up slowly. The air in the room was stale, lit by a flickering and silent TV screen in the corner and the pale dawn edging through the gap in the drapes. ‘Who did you say gave you my number?’ I said, narrowly avoiding stepping in leftover pizza as I stumbled towards the window.

‘Conroy Scott. You were with him in Rome, yes?’

‘He’s a good man.’

‘He is,’ said Jones. ‘An agency has seriously let me down and we’ve got three days of city location on the slate. Can you help me at all?’

I pulled the drapes aside and flooded myself with an early morning picture of the Paris skyline. Grey skies, slanting rain and traffic backing up, even at this early hour. Trying to find the sun would have been an exercise in futility.

‘Keep talking,’ I said. 

It took only a couple of minutes for Jones to explain his situation, and after getting the final details and a brief negotiation of my fee I told him I’d see him within the hour. I scrubbed myself in the shower and shaved under the steaming spray, and when I wiped the fog from the mirror and examined myself the reflection looked better than it had for some days. My eyes were still bloodshot and the pain in my head was approaching a crescendo, but I’d work through it. Back in the bedroom I dressed quickly in my standard attire of jeans, boots and a black shirt. I lived in the world capital for fashion, but had myself chosen to ignore it.

The kitchen was in the same state as the rest of the apartment. The place was a dump, but for a central city area overlooking the river I was paying very reasonable money. I found juice in the fridge and swallowed it down along with a couple of Aspirin, grabbed my keys and retrieved my leather coat from behind the front door. As I was closing it behind me the cat slipped in, narrowly avoiding an amputated tail, and I spent a moment rubbing her behind the ears and giving reassurance that a decent meal was on the way. I’d pick up a little fresh tuna on the way home and give her a treat. Living with me, that was the least she deserved.

My watch read 6.40am as I headed away from my building in the direction of the Metro. The patisserie on the street corner was already alive with activity, the open counters piled high with incredibly fresh bread still smoking from the oven. Generally I found the smell intoxicating and would have stopped to grab breakfast, but when the yeast hit my senses as I approached it reacted with the remains of the vodka I’d overdosed on the night before, and I felt my stomach give a lazy roll. I rushed past, and it was only when I reached my hand inside my breast pocket and found I’d left my cigarettes in the apartment that I realized what a long day this could turn out to be.

In fact, it turned out to be the longest day of my life. 

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

The metro was as hot and busy as I knew it would be, but as always it was the preferable alternative to driving through the city. I stood near the doors and found myself wedged between a slim woman who would have been attractive were it not for the blatant hair on her upper lip, and a man with intense body odor who rhythmically ate indigestion pills throughout the journey. Between this and the rocking of the train carriage my health struggled to improve, and I decided to stare at my shoes and concentrate on what the implausibly named Detroit Jones had told me about the job.

Jones was employed as a location manager with the famous French studio Canal Plus, whose main office and production houses were situated in the centre of Paris. Over the last few weeks the respected director Olivier Assayas had been shooting his new picture at Canal, and although filming was nearing completion the production was scheduled to move into external locations around the city for the last few days. Extensive security was always required on location, especially in a city of nine million and with a movie shoot that had been splashed across the papers for the last two weeks. Some members of a security team Jones had arranged in advance for the location had pulled out at the eleventh hour, leaving him with a wild director, several famous stars and expensive camera equipment littered around the streets and not enough eyes to watch over them. This was were I fitted in. Jones had sorted out most of his problems but still had no-one to oversee the safety of two of the main stars of the picture. Movie productions live and breathe on word-of-mouth, and after he had made several frantic telephone calls my name had been thrown into the arena. 

My stop arrived, and I joined the pushing crowd as they exited the carriage and headed towards the escalators. The heat was stifling and I started to feel claustrophobic, my throbbing temples not improved by the busker’s tones echoing against the tiles of the station walls. He was attempting to massacre a version of Bowie’s Space Oddity and succeeding admirably. If I’d had been able to reach him he’d have been eating the guitar, not strumming it. Mercifully I saw the daylight of the exit and pushed against the crowd, virtually throwing myself into the rain and fresher air.

The district of Saint-Denois was on the outskirts of the city, and quieter than the central location that I had traveled from. I started a fast walk and checked the directions to the location that I had scrawled while listening to Jones. Rain dripped across the paper, making the ink bleed, and I tucked it back inside my coat and turned my collar high against the weather. I just hoped someone was there to provide umbrellas and hot drinks.

It’s difficult to hide a film unit, and I found the production easily. It appeared as if the crew had taken over and closed several small suburban streets, and a security post had been erected at one end of the road with a barrier and tape keeping the public clear. Not that any Parisian’s seemed to be interested in a film lot that looked fairly deserted; a rain-swept Tuesday morning at 8.00am was no place for spectators. I approached the security post and gave my name, and the short but stocky guard examined his clipboard until I saw his eyebrows raise in recognition. I was given a laminated pass with my name, the name of the production and the words ‘Full Access’ on the plastic, and the guard let me pass through the barrier with a barely audible grunt. I also had no interest in stimulating conversation, so I headed towards the long line of Mobile trailers that were parked along the length of the street, my boots kicking up puddles as I walked. One of the doors swung open as I approached, and a bald man with a waterproof jacket and a scowl emerged. 

‘Hey friend, I’m looking for Detroit Jones. Know where I can find him?’

He looked at me as if I’d just asked if I could sleep with his wife, and remained silent.

‘Monsieur Jones? Erm, s’il vous plait, er, ah, fuck it.’

The bald man grinned, jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “He’s inside, mate,” he answered in perfect English, before striding away into the street. 

I cursed softly under my breath and leapt up the stairs and through the open door. The interior of the trailer was lit with harsh striplighting which bathed two huge desks littered with paperwork. The smell of fast-food was strong, and a small two-way radio hanging from a hook to my left spat forth a crackled voice in the local dialect. One of the desks was deserted. Behind the other was a man who was so pale I almost thought he was an albino until I saw a spark in his black eyes. His hair was thin and it looked as if he was trying to hold onto it judging by the amount of gel he’d layered across his scalp. He looked up as I entered.

‘Help you?’

‘Detroit Jones?’

‘One and the same. You are?’

I stepped forward with an outstretched hand. ‘Daniel Tremaine.’

Jones stood and his face cracked open with a smile, revealing teeth that were spaced far enough apart to kick a football through. We clasped hands and I realized it wasn’t just his hair that was oily. ‘Glad your here, Mr. Tremaine. Thanks for coming at such short notice.’

‘No problem. And it’s Daniel. The only person who calls me Mister is my ex-wife’s lawyer.’

Jones laughed, made a noise that reminded me of an old nail being wrenched from a board. ‘Get you some coffee?’

I shook my head. Caffeine was the last thing my brain needed. ‘I could use a cigarette.’

‘I don’t smoke, I’m sorry.’

Fucking wonderful. ‘Maybe you could just show me the layout and my duties then.’

Jones moved around the wide expanse of desk , picking out a couple of files from the turmoil as he came. He craned his neck forward like a turtle and squinted at the pass I’d pinned to my coat before grabbing hold of an obscenely orange puffer jacket and burying himself inside it.

‘How’s the weather?’ He inquired.

I shook my head and a patter of rain drops hit the linoleum. ‘How do you think?’

He gave me another shot of the painful laugh, before zipping his jacket shut and beckoning for me to follow him outside. I did so, shutting the door behind me, and stepped back into the rain.

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

Paris isn’t an easy city to live in. If allowed to it can overwhelm you with it’s charm and decadence, turn young men into old and good men into bad. Of course, I was corrupted long before I escaped here just over a year ago, and lately it was becoming harder to hide the fact. Most of my friends were bartenders, and they only kept the laughs coming as long as you kept the cash flowing. No-one has a shorter memory than a man who serves drinks. I knew that, but even false acquaintances were better than none at all. 

It was a city to get lost in, and that suited me just fine. People never moved to Paris because they just happened to wake one morning and fancy a change of scenery. There was always a reason. Lowlifes, runaways, pseudo-artists, failed students and the city’s eternal inhabitant; The philosophers, who sit around on cafe terraces all afternoon discussing the works of Freud while grooming ineffective goatees and watching miniskirts breeze by. And then there were guys like me, who dropped themselves off here looking for something new and never quite found it, yet never quite had the courage to leave. Life in the world’s greatest architectural sewer. Maybe the Foreign Legion would have been a better option, but I could never be bothered to obtain the number.

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

Jones led me across the street, the rain by now having soaked me through, and we turned into a smaller street that was quieter with less activity and larger, more expensive looking trailers. Tall, nineteenth-century period buildings lined the sidewalks and shielded some of the weather, and in the distance I could see a catering truck that I intended to ambush as soon as the chance arose. My headache was still paramount, but now the booze was draining from my system my appetite was returning rapidly. 

‘I know you’ve had some good experience with personal security’, said Jones, placing his feet delicately around rain-puddles. ‘And believe me, this won’t be a problem to you. Have you ever met Miss Ledoyen?’

‘She could walk past me now and I wouldn’t recognize her.’

I saw Jones shake his head. The rain was causing his hair product to run down the sides of his scalp, but I felt no need to inform him. ‘You surprise me, she’s very well known’

‘I don’t really watch movies, Detroit.’

Jones had either no response to that statement or was so mortified he couldn’t think of a reply, and he remained silent until we reached the door of one of the biggest trailers on the street. He trotted up the couple of steps and rapped quickly on the door, before returning to stand next to me. His face sported a large smile that looked more false than a Vegas magician, and while I grudgingly admired his enthusiasm I couldn’t echo it, especially now a stream of rain was running under my collar and pooling between my shoulder blades.

It was probably just as well that I didn’t try and lay on the fake grin, because when the door opened I’d have ended up looking pretty damn stupid with the expression frozen on my face. That’s how simply beautiful the woman looking down at the two of us was. She leant against the open door frame and glanced distastefully at the sky for a moment before looking first to Detroit, and then myself. When her eyes met mine I felt my throat click audibly as I swallowed, and I saw the contrast of her black hair against the milky paleness of her flawless skin. For just a moment I was thirteen again, sitting in Billy Edwards basement and staring wide-eyed at my first naked woman, creased and stapled in the pages of one of the girlie books we had stolen from Billy’s old man.

Jones spoke first. ‘Bonjour Mademoiselle Ledoyen. Je comment-’

She cut him off with a voice that was equally as sensual as her looks. ‘Monsieur Jones, please, I have asked you before not to murder my language.’

‘I was just making an effort.’

She smiled. ‘Make an effort to speak English. It is easier for you and less hurtful to me.’

Embarrassment flared on Jones cheeks, and I hid a wry smile. He smoothed a hand through his hair and frowned as he filled his palm with something more substantial than rainwater. I glanced up at the woman I now knew to be Virginie Ledoyen and our eyes met briefly once again. There was an expression on her face that I couldn’t read, but one thing to my mind was certain; she had the measure of this location manager. Jones cleared his throat in a halfhearted manner and tried again.

‘This is Daniel Tremaine, Miss Ledoyen. He’ll be your security for the rest of the week.’

She looked back to me. ‘Do you speak English?’

I was unsure as to how my voice would sound, and luckily it didn’t let me down. ‘Not too well, but it’s better than my French.’

Another smile, this time revealing perfect white teeth. ‘Good. Then come inside out of this terrible rain.’

I thanked Detroit Jones for his help and turned away before I could he could place his gooey palm in my own once more. Virginie closed the door behind me as I stepped inside, and I peered back through the doorglass at Jones as he scuttled away across the street, his garish jacket disappearing into the distance.

‘He is an odd man, I think,’ said Virginie.

‘He’s alright.’

She walked into the interior of the trailer and I watched her move. She was wearing a huge white robe wrapped itself around her slim body and her wet hair fell in loose tangles across her shoulders. Her bare ankles poked out from beneath the robe, and for a moment I wondered what the rest of her would look like beneath the cloth. 

‘You need some coffee?’ She asked, crossing to a silver espresso machine.

‘Just some water please, I have a headache.’

‘Are you ill?’ 

I shook my head and leant against the wall. ‘No. Well, not really. A late night and an early morning that I wasn’t expecting.’

She held a small mug as coffee hissed into it, and looked at me with a raised eyebrow. ‘Late night? You were doing something exciting?’

I laughed softly under my breath. ‘Less exciting, more stupid. Alcohol and arguments.'

‘Oh, that kind of ill,’ she said, passing me a glass of cool water which I drank down straight. ‘Better?’ She said as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

‘If you had a cigarette to follow I would be.’

‘I don’t smoke,’ she said, and when she must have seen the obvious frustration on my face she continued. ‘Drinking, smoking, late-nights. You should look after yourself more.’

‘Can you honestly see a guy like me jogging before breakfast?’

‘I’m serious,’ she said, crossing towards me and removing my empty glass and replacing it with her coffee, up close, I could smell her clean skin, fresh as ocean spray. ‘You drink this, you need it more than I, and help yourself to anything while I go and get dressed.’ She span on her heel and walked quickly towards a door situated at the far end of the trailer. The door closed softly behind her and a moment later I heard the muted sounds of water running.

I took a look around the room as I drained the cup, feeling the caffeine burn into my brain and provide some welcome if short-lived relief. A long couch held a denim jacket and a roughly scattered collection of magazines and a couple of books; Henry James and The Diary of Anne Frank. In one corner was large television and a small, expensive looking stereo, and against the other wall a spotlessly shining kitchen area and a work surface holding a huge bowl filled with various fruit. I picked up an apple, sniffed and then replaced it, and then pulled open the fridge door in the hope of finding something less healthy. I was faced with masses of Yogurt and skimmed milk, instead of the bacon sandwich and beer I’d been hoping for. I closed the door and returned to the apple. Maybe if I started eating the kinds of food Virginie had, then I’d start to look as good as her. Well, that and some Divine Intervention, obviously.

I was finishing the fruit and even contemplating the yogurt when the door opened and Virginie returned. I know it’s rude to stare, but stopping myself was an impossibility. Her damp hair was now combed long and straight, and the white shirt she wore was like a layer of paint against her breasts and stomach. Her leather skirt barely qualified as a definition of the word, stopping as it did just below her behind and sitting above legs that were smoother than Barry White and curvier than a Ford Thunderbird. The straps of her sandals curled across her ankles like protective snakes.

‘How do I look?’

‘Good enough to make my hangover pack its bags and head for the station,’ I said. I couldn’t help myself. It takes a hell of a lot to impress me these days, but this woman was doing it.

‘That’s a pretty good compliment, Daniel,’ she grinned, crossing the room like a dream and reaching for the denim jacket. ‘You like my pictures?’ She indicated to where I had been standing by a dozen or so framed prints on the wall. All were black and white, and showed classic images of Paris and it’s citizens. 

‘You took these? I asked. She nodded, pushing her arms into the jacket and causing her shirt to stretch even tighter across her breasts. ‘They’re really good,’ I continued honestly, turning my attention back to the pictures to stop myself noticing her body.

‘Merci. I spend so much time waiting for set-calls, it is nice to have my own things here.’

I cast my eyes around the spotless trailer. ‘It’s better than my apartment.’

She fished out a white umbrella with a ebony handle from a closet. ‘I’m sure that’s not true.’

‘Don’t bank on it.’

‘You live alone?’

I nodded and took the umbrella from her and opened the main door of the trailer. Outside the weather continued in it’s unrelenting fury; the rain was now bouncing off the tarmac in miniature fountains. In a rare moment of gentleman-style conduct I stepped out it the downpour and opened the umbrella before beckoning Virginie to step under the protective shield of canvas, which she did, closing and locking the door behind her. She pointed to the main area of the set and we began to walk, me holding the umbrella over her in my first act of protection that day. 




The Angel and The Devil



The Halloween party was really kicking into overdrive. My friend Kyle was off making out with his girlfriend, and my other friends Nathan and Rob were over by the kegs, trying to finish one off between them, leaving me alone on the dance floor; well, not really alone, it was packed. People were pressed together, trying to dance, as the band played off in the corner.

I wished I had thought ahead, and wore a lighter costume; the robe from my priests outfit was heavy, and the collar made it hard to breath. The only reason I had agreed to wear it, was because when the four of us were together, the ensemble made for good comedy. I'm catholic, so I dressed like a priest, Nathan is Jewish, so he dressed like a rabbi, Rob is Buddhist, so he dressed like a monk, and Kyle is Baptist, so he dressed like a preacher.

I was trying to make my way towards Nathan and Rob, when I bumped into a cute little blond, dressed up like an angel; that is, if angels wore corsets, mini-skirts, and knee high stockings. She spilled her drink all over the front of me, and I was now thankful that the robe was so heavy; because I actually didn't feel wet.

It was too loud to hear her, but I could read her lips as she apologized. I tried to tell her that it was okay, but had no success over the noise. I pointed to the kitchen, and she nodded; I followed her. When the door closed behind us, the noise level dropped enough for us to be able to talk.

"I'm sorry about that." She said.

"It's okay; it's my fault. I didn't see you there." I replied. "Let me get you another drink." I took her empty glass and walked over to the kegs. "Yo, Rabbi; top me off."

Nathan looked over at me and said, "Sure thing Father; anything for a fellow man of the cloth." He filled the glass and handed it back.

I turned back to the angel and gave her the beer. "There you go, all better now."

"Thanks, but what about your costume; it's all wet." She said.

I was about to respond, but she reached out with her left hand and ran it down the front of my robe. I stood there, having completely forgotten what I was about to say. She leaned in close so that no one else in the kitchen would hear, and said, "Let me make it up to you; back at my place."

I was sure I had heard her wrong, so I asked, "What did you say?"

She smiled, put her drink down on the counter, and said, "I want you to come back to my place and fuck me; is that clear enough?"

"Crystal." I said.

She took my hand and led me out of the party. We walked, hand-in-hand down the street, until we got to a dark little house. I recognized it as a sorority house, I knew that, like the fraternity house that the party was being held at, anywhere from four to ten people could be living here. I stopped and she turned to look at me. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Is it okay to go in there? I mean, will we wake anybody up?"

She laughed and tugged on my hand to get me moving again. "No, no; everyone else is at the party. We have the whole place to ourselves." I followed her in and let her guide me through the dark house, up the stairs, and into her room.

When she turned on the lights I saw that there were two beds in the room, and that it looked like the two women who shared this room were complete opposites. The side of the room that she went to was what you would expect from a spoiled princess; it was pink, with lots of frills and lace everywhere, and seemed soft and inviting. While the other side was dominated by blacks and reds, had a lot of metal, and reminded me of the kinds of bars that I would normally avoid.

She let go of my hand and walked over to her desk, where she removed the gold halo from her head, and placed it neatly on her desk. She then slid the wings off her back and hooked them onto the back of her chair. She turned and sat down on the edge of the bed, motioning me to sit down beside her; which I did, naturally.

"Look before we do anything; I don't even know your name." I said.

She giggled a little, and then said, "My name is Angel; it really is. What's yours?"

"That's quite a coincidence." I said. "My name is Ryan."

"Well nice to meet you Ryan; shall we fuck?" I couldn't believe how blunt she was, but it was refreshing; most college girls play all kinds of games, and take forever to get to the point.

She reached over, pulled me into her, and we started kissing. She wasted no time, and guided my hand to her chest; I could feel her erect nipples poking through the material of her corset. I rubbed her tits, trying to pinch her nipples through the material. She got to work on unbuttoning my robe from the bottom, but stopped about half way. She stopped kissing me, and untied the front of her corset, before pulling the cups down, exposing her perky tits. She started kissing me again, and continued unbuttoning my robe.

When she finally managed to undo the last button, I stood up, shrugged the robe off, and removed the collar; she took that time to completely remove her corset. I sat back down and continued kissing her, eventually working my way down her neck until I was finally licking and sucking her nipples. She reached into my lap with her left hand, and rubbed my dick through my pants; at the same time, her right hand guided my left hand up under her skirt, and to her panties. I rubbed her pussy through her panties, following the same rhythm she was keeping with my dick.

"Enough!" she shouted, before standing up. "Quick, take your clothes off and fuck me right now." She matched actions to words and she unzipped her skirt and pulled it and her panties off at the same time. I saw a carpet of blond pubic hair; natural blond. 

I jumped up and stripped as fast as I could. When I was naked, I looked to see her lying on her back, with her legs spread open. "I want you inside me now." She said.

I didn't need any more incentive, and climbed in between her legs. I lined myself up, and slowly entered her. When I was in deep enough, I lay down on top of her and started pumping. She started moaning right away, and grabbed my ass to pull me in deeper. She was so tight and wet, I had to slow my pace or I might cum too soon. I started licking and kissing her neck, and sucking on her earlobe.

"Lie down." She told me, as she pushed me over on to my back and climbed on top of me. She leaned down and sucked my dick for a few seconds, before climbing back up and sitting down on it. She started grinding her pelvis into me, and said, "I'm almost done; just let me get off once, and then you can go ahead and finish." Without waiting for a response, she placed her hands on my chest, and started fucking me.

She picked up the pace quickly, and I was glad that there were no other people home, because she started shouting vulgarities at the top of her lungs. She was getting so frantic now, that when I looked at my dick, all I saw was a blur on skin; I knew she was really close, and so was I.

At that very moment, the door burst open, and someone came in. "What the hell is going on here?" they screamed.

Angel looked over but continued fucking me, which confused me enough that I didn't notice any details about this new arrival just yet.

The person walked over and yanked Angel off me by her upper arm, and said, "I asked you, what the hell is going on here, bitch?"

She pulled her away from the bed and to the door. I started to get up but stopped when the newcomer shouted, "Stay where you are, shit-for-brains!" It was at that time that I was able to finally focus enough to see what was happening. The newcomer was another girl, Asian, and slightly smaller than Angel. She was wearing the same outfit as Angel had been, except hers was red, and instead of a halo and wings, she had horns and a tail. They were now at the door, and the new girl closed it, turned the lock, and removed the key; so much for trying to beat a hasty retreat, I thought.

She shook Angel and said, "Answer me."

Angel looked from her to me and back before saying, "Please just let me finish, I won't take long, then he can go and no one has to get in trouble." I was starting to feel bad; had she broken some house rule, and was she now going to be punished.

"Absolutely not! You know the rules, and you broke them; now you need to be punished."

"Hey wait a minute," I started to say.

"Shut-up maggot!" the Asian girl yelled at me. "I'll deal with you in a minute." Despite the fact that she was the smallest person in the room, there was no doubt that she was in charge here. The tone of command in her voice, and the fire in her eyes, kept me frozen where I was.

"Please, don't do this." Angel pleaded.

The Asian girl started pulling her to the other side of the room, "You brought a man into our room, without telling me about it, and had sex with him. You know that you have to be punished." She made Angel kneel down beside the other bed, and produced two pairs of hand-cuffs, which she used to cuff Angel's hands to both ends of the bed. Without looking at me she yelled, "Come here, maggot!" I stood up and walked right over to stand next to her, at the spot she had indicated. She looked at me and upon noticing that I was covering myself with my hands, yelled, "Remove your hands, worm!"

I just stood there, confused, and said, "Look, I don't know..."

The force, with which she slapped me, surprised me, as my head snapped around to the side. I looked back at her and was about to say something, but she yelled, "Shut your mouth, you dog; you will speak only when I tell you too; is that understood?"

Too shocked to answer, I just nodded my head.

"Good; now I said remove your hands, worm!"

I did what she said, dropped my hands to my side, and stood there naked. Without warning, she grabbed my dick and pulled me forward by it, until it was right in front of Angel's face. "Is this what you want?" she asked Angel, "Did you enjoy having his dick inside you?"

Angel stared straight at my dick, and started crying. "Yes." She whispered.

The Asian girl slapped her with her free hand. When Angel looked back at her she asked, "Did you enjoy him, more than me?"

Angel shook her head violently, all the while crying, "No! No! Never!"

"I don't believe you. Why else would you sneak him up here, without telling me?"

Angel looked back at my dick, which the Asian girl had started to stroke, "It's just different; I wanted to try it."

The Asian girl bent down to kneel in front of Angel, still stroking my dick; she leaned in and sniffed it. "I can smell you on him." Suddenly she put my dick in her mouth and sucked in it for a few seconds; when she pulled it out, she said, "I can taste you on him."

She stood back up and looked down at the crying Angel, "Now for your punishment." The Asian girl stood up, released my dick, and proceeded to strip, until she was wearing nothing but her red knee-high stockings. I couldn't help but look at her tiny, pert breasts, and the rather large erect nipples she had. I continued down and saw that she shaved completely, and had a plump little pussy. She caught me looking at her, and slapped me again. "You don't get to look at me, maggot, unless I tell you."

She turned back to Angel and said, "For breaking the rules, you're going to have to sit there and watch while this piece of trash pounds my pussy with his dick." She glanced back over her shoulder at me and said, "And he's going to keep pounding me until I cum," She looked back at Angel, "Or he's going to have to do your job, and eat me until I do; and you won't be able to touch me, him, or even yourself."

She moved forward, spread her legs, and bent over the bed; so that Angel was sitting on the floor, inches from her pussy. "Now you," she shouted to me, "Stick your dick in my pussy, and fuck me!"

I stepped forward and lined my dick up. I looked down, and could see that Angel was no longer crying, but watching with a hunger in her eyes. "What are you waiting for!" the Asian girl shouted, "Fuck me already!"

I slowly inserted my dick, and was amazed at how tight and wet she was. I knew that there was no way I was going to last that long in a pussy this tight, so I tried to reach around her to play with her clit; hopefully, stimulate her more that way.

She smacked my hand away and shouted, "Did I say you could touch that, dick-head? No, I didn't." I started to get disappointed, but noticed that her hand never reappeared on the bed; seconds later, I felt her fingers brush against my balls, as she played with her own clit. "You better not even think about cumming inside me!"

"Are you enjoying the show, Angel?" she asked.

"Yes, it's beautiful, Miko." Angel replied.

I couldn't help myself, Miko was so tight, and I started pumping her faster and faster. "Yes! Yes! Just like that; deeper, harder!" Her encouragement made me increase the pace, and force of every thrust. "Oh, yeah; smack my ass, you dog!" I reached back and brought my right hand down hard on her ass; her skin was so perfect and white, that my hand print stayed pink on her skin. "Again!" she shouted; this time I smacked her with my left hand, leaving a matching hand print on the other butt check.

She started to thrust her hips back into me with every stroke. "Grab my hair!" I reached forward with my left hand and grabbed a handful of hair; I pulled back until her head was tilted back and she was facing the wall. "Give me your hand!" She said as she reached back with her free hand; she was now being held up by her hair. I placed my right hand in hers, and she brought it down to cup her breast. "Now squeeze my titties! I want you to pull and twist my nipples hard!" I got right to work on the right one while she did the left one.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! That's it; right there!" she screamed, and I knew she was about to cum. Seconds later, she screamed out in a language I didn't know, and I could feel her pussy compress around my dick; I was glad she had finally cum, because I was about to blow my load.

Suddenly, she bumped back into me hard, and freed herself from me. She then bent down and sat on Angel's waiting mouth; Angel greedily licked and sucked up every last drop of Miko's juices. I was so close to cumming that I wanted to reach down and jerk off; but Miko was watching me over her shoulder, and her eyes warned me against doing just that. I thought that Miko would probably tell me to get dressed and leave, forcing me to go home and finish myself off.

When Miko finally stood up, she undid the handcuffs, and helped Angel stand up. She kissed Angel, and licked at the juices off her chin. I watched as Miko's hand drifted down the front of Angel's body, until she reached her pussy; I saw Angel's body shudder, and Miko plunged two fingers into her. Miko brought the fingers to her mouth and sucked on them for a few seconds.

She pushed Angel down on the bed, climbed up next to her, and held her legs open "She's not far off; it shouldn't take you more than a few minutes to make her cum." She said to me. Then she looked right at me and said, "And you better make her cum, or I'll make you wish you'd never set foot in this house, worm."

I approached Angel and was about to shove my dick inside her when Miko said, "And you better not cum in her!"

I thrust my dick all the way inside her, and was rewarded with a gasp from Angel. I immediately picked up the pace, and started pumping as fast as I could; Miko had released Angel's legs and was now using her right hand to rub Angel's pussy, while she rubbed her own with her left hand.

Sure enough, in about three minutes, Angel screamed and her body started bouncing on the bed. I could feel her pussy trying to squeeze my dick, and was about to come when Miko yelled, "Pull that thing out of her right now!"

I pulled out and Miko immediately grabbed my dick. She pulled me forward until my balls were pressed against Angel's pussy. "Look at what this filthy creature was going to put inside you, Angel." She said as she stroked me.

Having almost gotten there with Angel, and then even closer with Miko, I burst like never before; just as Angel looked up, I blew my load. My first shot actually hit her right in the check, with a couple of others making it to her tits, before the rest pooled at her belly button. Miko kept stroking me, squeezing every last drop out of me, before letting me go.

I took a couple of steps back, and had to focus just to stay standing. I watched as Angel, with a shocked look on her face, reached up and scrapped my cum off her check with her index finger. She looked at it closely, before opening her mouth and licking it off; Miko watched her before licking the cum that was on her hand. The two girls smiled at each other and proceeded to clean my cum off Angel.

When they were done, Angel sat up next to Miko and said, "See, that was fun, wasn't it?"

Miko looked from her to me and back, before answering, "It wasn't unpleasant."

Angel looked happy, and started clapping her hands together, "So then, he can come back and play?"

Miko looked right at me, "If he does what he's told, then I suppose it would be alright."

Angel hugged and kissed Miko, "Oh, thank you; thank you. You won't regret this." She stood up and walked over to me. "Isn't this great? You can come over and play." She whispered to me, "But you better do what Miko tells you to, or she'll never let you come back. You do want to come back right?"

I nodded my head.

"Angel, bring the maggot here, and let's get some sleep."

Angel turned back to Miko and said, "He has a name, you know."

"I don't care what the maggot's name is."

Angel planted her fists on her hips and said, "Well, if he's going to be coming over for playtime, then you should at least call him by his name."

Miko rolled her eyes, and said, "Fine; but only because I love you, and it will make you happy."

Angel smiled and said, "I love you too, Miko." Angel took my hand and led me over to Miko's bed.

I awoke the next morning between two beautiful, naked women, and realized that college was going to be a lot more fun than even I could have imagined.

THE END



The Angel and the Devil



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

A movie set is a dull and boring place. Anyone who tells you different has never spent a day on one. They’re generally full of clashing egos and nervous breakdowns, long periods of delay and very little action. People read from notes, take notes, compare notes and drink gallons of weak coffee. I’m always amazed how a motion picture actually gets finished. Maybe I’ve just been standing in the wrong place.

And there’s a lot of standing around in my job. Standing, watching and listening. I gave up trying to look menacing a long time ago, I’ll leave the new boys to that. You see them on every shoot with their black suits, buzzcut hair and the inevitable Ray Ban’s, eyes always a mystery and a jaw seemingly carved from stone. Pretty good for the catwalk, but I always wondered exactly how they’d perform if the shit hit the fan. Be interesting to find out.

Not that I’d seen much action in my time as on-set security. Sure, there was always the occasional fan who tried to break ranks and get closer to their idol, but a quiet word and guidance soon put a stop to things. Nearly everyone collapses at the first sign of resistance, and the key is to be gentle but firm. The new boys always liked to beef it up a little, raise a voice or start some pushing, but I figured they were just young. I suppose I was like that at one time.

This set was no different to any other. After I’d escorted Virginie across to the main group of trailers without getting a spot of weather on her, I waited outside with the umbrella and watched the crew erect tarpaulin covered lighting rigs with about as much good humor as a man who’s been told his feet need to be amputated but someone has offered a buck for his shoes. Even with the rain a small group of spectators had gathered against the metal barriers at the end of the street, needlessly being kept in check by a brace of the black-suited goons.

The movie was called The Angel And The Devil. It was a large production and expected to be a great success as the director had a been on a string of box-office achievements in the last few years. Virginie and the hugely popular actor Vincent Cassel were the main stars, alongside the Italian actress Asia Argento. I had seen Cassel arrive as I waited outside the trailer, striding through the rain alongside his own personal protection, who I guessed was one of the other guys Detroit Jones had contacted in a panic. We nodded to each other as he passed, and I realized that for once, I’d got the best end of the deal. Cassel was probably a decent man, but no way did he have the legs of my client. I wasn’t sure if I’d seen Argento, but I wouldn’t have recognized her anyway. Her Father was a famous director of thrillers in his native Italy, and I had worked for a security team on his last picture, alongside Conroy Scott, who Jones had received my number from. I knew she was a star, but that’s as far as my knowledge went. As I said to Jones, I rarely watched movies, preferring to restrict my viewing habits to football and the bottom of bottles. Luckily, both could be done within the confines of a bar.

The day drifted by without incident or excitement. I did my usual impression of a statue most of the morning, watching exterior scenes being set-up, filmed and re-filmed. Both Virginie and Cassel looked cold and miserable between takes, and on several occasions Virginie came and stood under the umbrella I raised for her, although I lowered it as soon as she returned to work. I was dripping wet anyway, and a man standing alone under an umbrella was not an image I wished to portray. On one such occasion when she came to me I was sipping from a styrofoam cup of Hot Chocolate, and when I offered it to her she took it gratefully.

‘That’s good,’ she murmured into the cup, and then peered out from under the umbrella at the ashen skies. ‘Damn weather, I’m freezing.’

I sighed. ‘Yeah, it’s not all glamour, is it?’

She laughed, already a sound that I looked forward to hearing. ‘It rarely is.’

‘Why do you do it, then?’

She looked at me curiously. ‘Why do you do it?’

I had answers to the question, but not any that I wished to share. ‘Better than lying in a gutter I suppose.’

At that moment a runner approached and informed her that she was required back for the shot. She thanked him, turned back to me and returned the chocolate to my hand. She took a step out from under the canvas, and then turned back to me, the rain thudding off her hair.

‘We’re all lying in the gutter Daniel,’ she said, ‘but some of us are looking at the stars.’

And as I watched her move gracefully back towards the waiting camera, I realized that for the first time in as long as I could remember, I actually found myself liking someone.

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

The production ground to a blessed halt at three forty-five that afternoon. One of the cameras had blown, closely followed by Vincent Cassel, who politely told the director to go and fuck himself before retreating to his trailer. The weather had continued with it’s destructive mood, a mood which echoed my own. I was beyond cold. My feet had lost all feeling, my balls had retreated into my body and my fingertips had crinkled as if I’d spent too long in a bath. Right now, the thought of a bath was all that was keeping me going. Well, that and cigarettes and vodka, and I intended to combine all three as soon as I made it back to the apartment. Incredibly I’d only been able to bum one smoke from a crew-member all day; it seemed as if everyone in the city was rejecting their vices just as I was sinking further into my own. I intended to buy a fresh pack of Camels at the store on the corner of my I street and smoke the whole deck while laying in a tub of flesh-searing water with a drink in my hand. Possibly get some Hendrix on the stereo to complete the picture. 

I was contemplating this fantasy when Virginie crossed over towards me. She still looked as gorgeous as when I’d first seen her this morning, despite the fact she was as wet as I. Regardless, her smile still bought a small shaft of sunlight into the day.

‘All finished?’ I asked, as we hurried towards her trailer.

‘Yes, thank God. This has been a terrible day. For you as well, I think?’

‘I’ve had better.’

She unlocked the door and we both threw ourselves into the welcoming heat of the trailer. Virginie moved to a closet near the couch and removed two towels from inside, tossed one across to me. I wiped streams of water from my overlong hair.

‘How’s your headache?’ She said.

‘Gone. Now I just feel like frostbite has set in.’

‘You want to try wearing this skirt all day.’

I coughed into the towel and shook my head. ‘I haven’t got the legs for it.’

Our eyes met and after a moment we both laughed, and a trigger flicked on in the back of my brain reminding me that this was how things were meant to be done. Just as I was about to say something I might have possibly regretted, there was a sharp rap on the door. I opened it to see the weasel face of Detroit Jones, still encased in his ridiculous coat. I motioned for him to come inside but he shook his head and remained on the step, and as a consequence let all the heat escape.

‘That’s it for today, Miss Ledoyen,’ he said pointlessly.

‘I know, Monsieur Jones,’ she replied with a distinctive mark of irritation in her voice. I guessed she had the same opinion of Jones as myself. Okay, but still a prick.

‘Problem is, your driver has left. He’s fallen sick.’

‘I’m not surprised. We will probably all catch colds after this day.’

‘I have arranged another car for you,’ said Jones, looking at his watch, ‘but it will be more than a hour. We can-’

‘I’m not waiting an hour,’ she replied, cutting him short. ‘I’m wet, cold, tired and pissed off. I’ll take a taxi.’

Jones shook his head. ‘I’m not sure about that. There will be people and press.’

Virginie took the towel from her head and shook her hair free. It fell in twists, framing her face beautifully, almost dramatically. ‘I appreciate your concern for my well-being, even though I know it’s because you’re paid to do so. However, I’ve lived in this city for a long time and I know it like my own reflection. The city and the people. So you can hang around this miserable place all afternoon for all I care, but in five minutes I intend to be in the back of a cab heading for the river.’ She threw the towel over the arm of the couch. ‘Anyway, Daniel is coming with me.’

‘I am?’ I said, unable to keep the surprise from my voice. Jones looked at me with suspicion and perhaps a hint of jealousy.

‘Well, I assume you need to go home?’

I nodded.

‘Then we can share the ride. And with Daniel I will also be safe, Monsieur Jones, yes?’ She smiled sweetly at the production manager.

Jones stared at her, then glanced at me. He opened his mouth to say something, either thought better of it or knew when he was fighting a losing battle, and closed it again. A moment later he was walking into the rain once more, and I thankfully closed the door on his eye-watering coat.

When I looked back at Virginie she had removed her denim jacket and thrown it next to the towel. Her shirt, obviously thin when dry, was now almost completely transparent as it gripped her damp skin. I could clearly make out the flat sweep of her stomach, her bellybutton a dark smear, and my gaze moved higher to the mounds of her small breasts, capped with tiny nipples that were dark and pushed against the fabric. I stared for a brief moment, and then suddenly became very interested once more in the photographs that dotted the wall.

‘You’re sure you don’t mind escorting me home?’

‘Of course not,’ I replied, without looking at her.

‘Good. Give me a moment, and I will be ready.’ I heard her close the door to the other room behind her, and only then did I dare to take my eyes from the pictures.

There was water in the fridge and I poured a glass before sitting heavily on the couch. I took several mouthfuls and wished it was something stronger, then closed my eyes and rubbed against the sockets with the back of my hand, feeling the sting and discovering how tired I felt. When I dropped my hand to the couch I felt dampness on my palm, and I looked down to see the towel Virginie had rubbed through her hair. I contemplated it for a moment before lifting it to my face and inhaling deeply. The odor was of fresh water and a light scent, as I knew it would be, but for me it also smelt of memories, of a time long passed. I allowed myself another few seconds to remember, before replacing the towel in the same place and rubbing my hands once more against my face. The last thing I wanted was for her to see the tears that filled my eyes.

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

The rain had stopped and been replaced by a harsh wind that cut freshly against my wet clothes, and I had to clamp my jaw together to stop my teeth from chattering. Virginie had the luxury of changing into dry jeans and a sweater, and had wrapped an knee length woolen coat around herself before we locked the trailer and moved off the set. We passed the security barrier after I had signed myself out on the clipboard that the sullen guard held out to me, and I returned the laminated pass that had been pinned to me all day.

The street was crowded and filled with spray from passing vehicles. The city was nearing rush-hour and as would soon be approaching the usual gridlock situation, and unless we wanted to be sitting in traffic for hours we had to get moving. A cab with a lit vacancy sign approached, and I stepped off the curb and hailed it, jumping back as the vehicle churned up a plume of water as it pulled in towards us. I held the backdoor open for Virginie and she thanked me and slid inside, and a moment later I was next to her.

A silence fell between us, but not one that I found unpleasant. I’m generally a man of few words and not prone to making what you might call idle chit-chat. I also didn’t find the way Virginie leant against me disagreeable. I’m not saying she was laying across me, but she didn’t stop the weight of her body on my own when she was pushed into me as we rounded a corner at speed, which seemed to be the only way the cabbie knew how to drive. I found myself pushing an arm against her own, not with enough pressure that she would notice, but with enough to make me know that I was touching someone else. Bizarrely, it was almost comforting. The driver asked for further directions as we crossed the Louis-Philippe Bridge, the Seine boiling away underneath us, and as she told him I noticed he took several long stares at her. If that was because he recognized her or because she appeared so beautiful in the late afternoon light that came through the greasy windows I didn’t know, but I certainly couldn’t blame him for looking.

Her apartment was in the ultra-smart suburb of Neuilly, located just off the very centre of the city. A district of stunning architecture, tree-lined avenues and litter-free sidewalks that seemed a world away from my own sleazy area, even though it was no more than two miles north. The cab pulled up carefully outside of a grand nineteenth century building that had manicured shrubs and a peak-capped doorman infront of the entrance.

‘I’ll see to the fare,’ I said, as she began to root around in her purse. 

‘We’ll share it.’

I pulled her hand away from the bag and closed it. She looked up at me once again with that tremendous smile. ‘I’ve got money,’ I said.

‘You’re sure?’

I nodded and as I did so she leant into me, one hand on the sleeve of my jacket, and kissed me with a feathery lightness on my cheek. A strand of her hair tickled against my chin as she pulled away.

‘Thankyou Daniel. I’ll see you in the morning?’

‘I’ll be there,’ I replied. ‘Hopefully a little more coherent than today.’ 

‘I think you’re fine as you are,’ she said, and then opened the door and stepped onto the sidewalk with one easy movement, a chill replacing her as she left. The door slammed closed and I twisted in the seat and looked at her out of the back window, her black coat streaming behind her as she reached into her purse. The words of the driver made me look round.

‘Monsieur? Ou Pour?’

I sighed heavily. ‘Just drive.’

He turned back to the wheel muttering under his breath, but I wasn’t interested. I looked back at Virginie, and saw that she now standing facing a small, scruffy-looking man. He was mouthing words that I couldn’t hear, and she inturn looked cold and totally unamused.

I heard the cough of the taxi’s engine, the scrape of metal as the worn gears engaged, the clicking as the handbrake was released.

And I knew something was wrong.

I launched myself across the backseat and threw the door open before the cab had moved more than a couple of feet and crossed the sidewalk to where she and the small man stood. Behind me I heard brakes squeal and the cabbie curse loudly as I moved quickly towards her.

‘Virginie?’ I said, and she looked at me quickly and for a moment I thought I saw panic in her eyes, softening as I touched her arm. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine,’ she replied, but I felt her muscles stiffen beneath the coat sleeve. I looked from her to scruff, who had an obvious expression of annoyance on his unshaven face. He said something in French that I couldn’t understand, and she replied, shaking her head and taking the photograph and pen that he had taken from his jacket. The photograph was of Virginie, and it looked as if it had been taken as she entered the very building in front of which we now stood. She scrawled her signature across it and as she did so I looked at scruff. In return he glared back at me, and I was too tired and cold to ignore it.

‘What’s your problem?’

Surprise lit his face. ‘Monsieur?’ His pronunciation was as awkward as my own would have been, and I’ve lived in Paris long enough to be able to spot the real thing.

‘You’re not French.’ I said.

‘Neither are you,’ he retorted in perfect English.

Virginie had completed the autograph and she handed the photo back. Scruff seemed delighted, and ran a dirty fingernail across the image.

‘Thankyou so much, Miss Ledoyen,’ he whispered, continuing with the English. ‘Would it be possible to have a kiss?’

Virginie flicked her eyes at me, only for the briefest of moments, but it was all the reaction I required to let me know that kissing this idiot was the last thing she was keen on doing. She also stepped a fraction closer towards me.

‘That’s not going to happen, pal,’ I said. ‘Maybe you should be on your way.’

His eyes blazed fire in my direction. ‘I wasn’t asking you,’ he spat, a tiny fleck of saliva decorating his lower lip.

‘But now I’m telling you. Get lost.’

He took a quick step forward, raising his hand towards her, and that was all I needed. I caught his wrist in midair and twisted, feeling small bones grind beneath my grip as I used the weight of his body to spin him around and force his arm up behind his back. I jammed the thumb of my other hand into the soft cartilage behind his ear and pushed, and he gave a startled cry as I wheeled him away from Virginie towards the granite wall of the apartment building. People were staring as they passed, and in my peripheral vision I could see the doorman reaching for a telephone.

‘Fuck off’, shouted scruff, but before he could give anymore abuse I rammed his arm harder up his back as my reply, high enough so that the palm was between the shoulder blades. ‘Okay, okay. Jesus, that hurts!’ he cried, and I released the pressure slightly. It was easy to break a bone this way, and I didn’t want to go that far. I lowered my face to his ear, smelling sweat and dope on his skin.

‘It would be good to not see you around here again,’ I said. ‘Understand?’

He nodded quickly and I let him go, pushing him away from me. For a moment all I could see was the back of his head, dirty blonde hair creeping over his collar. Then he turned slowly to face me, and I was genuinely surprised to hear him laughing gently. He rubbed the strained shoulder joint and looked at me with a dirty grin.

‘C’mon, man. All I wanna do is get inside her pants.’

My anger flared, but there were by now too many people watching. ‘She’s already got one asshole in her pants, fuckface, and if you’re not out of sight by the time I draw breath I’ll break you in half.’

He stayed still and silent for a second, then split his face with a yellow-toothed grin and gave me the peace sign before spinning on his heel and running away into the sea of people that filled the sidewalk.

I turned back around to find Virginie standing with the smart doorman, who was gesticulating with one hand and holding a telephone in the other. The taxi-driver was leaning out of his window looking at me with raised eyes, and I pushed some bills into his hand and returned to Virginie. 

‘You alright?’ I said.

‘I am used to people approaching me, you know,’ she said, but there was no trace of the intended anger in her voice. Instead she sounded quiet, almost scared. Before I could reply the doorman spoke quickly in French. He still held the receiver, a finger poised over the keypad. She touched his arm and gently persuaded him to replace the phone, giving him her best movie-star smile as she did. I had no idea what she said, but if it stopped him from calling the police, which I’m sure was his intention, then I was grateful.

‘I’m going inside,’ said Virginie. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Daniel.’

‘Do you want me to come to the door with you?’ Immediately I wondered why I’d said that. Her building obviously had good security, and I had watched scruff run away in the opposite direction. Virginie was right; she was used to people bothering her, asking her to sign pictures. That was one of the aspects of fame, and in Paris she was extremely well known. So why was I suddenly being overprotective?




The Angel and the Devil



She didn’t answer my question, just regarded me with a frown.

‘Okay, forget it,’ I said with an unwanted tone of abruptness. I span around quickly to avoid her seeing the flush of crimson that was hitting my face, and I’d taken a quick couple of steps when her voice stopped me.

‘Daniel?’

I turned, sighing deeply and feeling an ache in the small of my back. The thought of cheap scotch was know in the forefront of my mind. ‘Yeah?’

‘How did you know that I was afraid?’

I pushed my hands deeper into my pockets and shivered inside of my jacket. The wind was stronger now, and once more slivers of rain had begun to bounce against my skin.

‘Just a feeling,’ I muttered. ‘I can be quite a perceptive guy, when I want.’

She smiled. ‘That’s a big word.’

‘I know one or two.’

She stepped forward and pulled my hand from my jacket, wrapping her slim fingers into mine. ‘Thankyou. I would like you to come upstairs with me, if you don’t mind.’ She pulled me towards her and I allowed myself to be led, and as we left the harshness of the sidewalk for the warmth of the lobby, the doorman gave us a small salute.

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

The interior of Virginie’s building was as stunning as the exterior. Subtle art and dark carpeting lined the corridor that led towards the fashionably retro service elevator, the gunmetal doors rattling musically as I closed them behind us. Virginie pushed the button for the top floor and we slowly began to ascend to the fifth level.

‘I have seen that man before, you know,’ she said, as she leant back against the wall while I watched one exquisite floor merge into another. ‘He’s taken pictures of me.’

‘Like the one I saw? That was taken outside of here.’

She nodded. ‘You cannot stop people from doing it, and I usually don’t mind. But he is very... intense.’ She looked at her shoes briefly, and then back to me. ‘I wonder what he does with them all.’ She didn’t say it as a question and I didn’t answer, although I had a pretty good idea.

The elevator rattled to a halt and we stepped out into a long hallway that was lit with lamps sitting on specially designed moldings in the wall. They looked antique, and were worlds away from the harsh striplighting that occasionally, but not always, illuminated the tiled passageway that led to my own festering apartment. A tiny thrill ran through me as Virginie once more took my hand and led me down the hallway, and we didn’t speak until we reached a large door that looked wooden but was probably too heavy to be anything other than metal.

‘Here we are,’ she said, pulling a small bunch of keys from her purse.

‘Okay. I guess this is where I say goodbye.’

Her hand hovered midway to the lock. ‘Why?’

‘I said I’d see you to the door, and I have.’

She inserted and turned the key and the door swung inwards easily and silently, revealing a entrance decorated with small black and white floor tiles. Virginie removed the key and turned to me.

‘I’d like you to come in,’ she said, ‘unless you have something else to attend to.’

I looked at her, beautiful and elegent as the surroundings we stood in. I glanced back through the door and imagined what the rest of her apartment would be like. What did I have waiting for me? A draught-filled box that dripped water through a hole near the bathroom wall and a cat that had sensibly given up on me a long time ago. I’d promised her a good meal when I left this morning, but she was more than used to me breaking my commitments. She was better off without me.

‘Nothing that can’t wait,’ I said, and followed her inside.

The small entrance led through into a huge living room, and I stayed near the door while Virginie turned on lamps that chased away the grey winter light that spilt through a large bank of windows. Two huge leather sofas faced each other and stood on a polished oak floor that was dotted here and there with fine rugs, and there were masses of plants trailing in the corners and across shelves. A large bookcase, slim and expensive looking stereo, view of the river; this was a room where a guy like me could have taken a vacation.

‘You can come into the room, if you like,’ said Virginie, as she threw her coat over the back of one of the sofas. ‘Would you like some tea?’

‘Tea?’

‘Yes. You know, hot water, leaves, milk if required?’ She smiled, and continued. ‘I suppose you’re strictly a coffee man, huh?’

‘Generally. Hate the taste, love the caffeine.’

‘I can imagine. Sit down and I’ll be back in a moment.’ She disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the door slightly ajar, and I heard the sound of water running.

I stood infront of the window, the rain lashing hard against the glass and virtually obscuring the street several floors below. In the distance to the left I could see the magnificent Notre Dame Cathedral on the bank of the Seine, and infront of me lining the other side of the street were more residential palaces of the kind that I now stood in. Huge, gorgeous, impenetrable. I glanced at my watch - five twenty-two, and already darkness was moving quickly into the city.

I could still hear Virginie pottering in the kitchen, and I crossed over to the bookcase, my eyes scanning across History, Philosophy, Satre, Elmore Leonard and Stephen King. It was then that I saw a long line of albums, perfectly racked, and I was leafing through these when she returned.

‘You collect Vinyl?’ I said, as she placed two huge mugs on a low wooden coffee-table.

‘A little. Most of them used to be belong to my Brother,’ she replied, joining me at the case. ‘Usually I buy discs like everyone else, but if I see something good then I’ll pick it up.’

I flipped the records. ‘Beatles, The Smiths. The Ramones. I’m impressed.’

She looked up at me, a smile still there but her eyes serious. ‘It’s good to hear you sound happy about something.’

‘I love music, sometimes it’s... what do you mean?’

She placed her hand gently on my cheek, her fingers crackling against my stubble as she brushed her thumb under my eye, the gentlest of touches on my skin. My eyes involuntarily closed for a brief moment, reacting to the sensation and warmth of her touch, a feeling I wasn’t used to from anyone. When I opened them she was still looking at me closely.

‘I mean, many times I’ve seen you today you’ve looked... haunted.’

I didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. It was true of course. I was haunted, by moments from my past and possibly by what I expected to happen in the future. But now, at this instant, I felt almost content. Virginie’s hand slipped away from my face.

‘Come and sit, the tea’s hot and good.’

‘I shouldn’t really,’ I said. ‘My clothes are still damp from the rain.’

She touched my jacket and made a face. ‘Why didn’t you say before, I could have dried them for you.’

‘I’ll be home soon.’

She shook her head. ‘This what we’re going to do. You can take a shower, and while you’re warming up I’ll run these things through the clothes drier.’ She was already pulling my jacket off as she spoke, and I started to laugh.

‘You’re very forceful.’

She grinned. ‘I’m a woman, it’s what we do. No arguments.’ She hung my jacket on the back of a chair and grabbed me by the hand, led me across the room and through another door next to the kitchen. Beyond was her bedroom, the walls painted a deep red and dominated by a huge pine bed strewn with a white duvet and enormous pillows. The light was dim, and I could smell incense burning, the odor instantly calming. She opened another door to a connecting bathroom and pulled me inside. Deep blue tiles, driftwood sculptures and a fantastic collection of black and whites lining the walls depicting the seashore. In the middle of the room, slightly raised, was a traditional cast-iron bath, the brass fittings glittering with cleanliness. Away in the far corner next to a worn but insanely comfortable looking armchair was the shower cubicle. I turned to Virginie.

‘You’ve got a beautiful home,’ I said simply.

‘Well, I spend a lot of time here when I can,’ she replied, and ran her hand across the dark tiles. ‘I like bold colours.’

‘I can tell.’

She indicated to some chrome shelving behind the door. ‘There are towels here, and if you leave your clothes in the bedroom I’ll get them dry, okay?’

She still held my hand, and squeezed it gently before letting go, and I watched her leave the bathroom and tread lightly across the bedroom floor, her jeans tight against her bottom and her ankles pale flashes against the wood, before vanishing into the living room.

I stooped and pulled off my boots and placed them against the wall, and then quickly stripped off my clothes. My skin grew cold as the damp material was pulled free and I shivered, despite the warmth coming from the radiator in the bedroom. When I was naked I piled the clothing as neatly as I could and left them on the floor, tucking my shorts between my shirt and jeans and feeling a slight twinge of embarrassment knowing that Virginie was about to see my underwear.

In my own apartment the bathroom was roughly the size of a decent closet, with an ever-increasing damp patch spreading along the wall and a toilet that took an effort to flush. As I took one of the soft, warm towels from the shelf and crossed to the shower I wondered just how much money was needed to be able to laze around in a bathroom like this. As a kid I dreamt of places like this one, but these days I barely slept without an alcohol knockout.

I hung the towel within reach of the cubicle and stepped inside, twisting the dial and being rewarded with am instant torrent of blissfully hot water. For the next couple of minutes I stood solidly beneath the spray, eyes tightly closed, and let the heat penetrate through my skin and warm aching muscles and bones. Safely cocooned inside a canopy of steam, I could have very easily fallen asleep, and might well have done so if I hadn’t heard the bathroom door open.

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t amused myself with a moment’s fantasy about Virginie joining me under the water. After the day I’d spent in her company I knew how attractive I found her, and not just on a physical basis, although she was truly one of the most beautiful women I’d ever encountered. The way her shoulders shook when she laughed, how she walked, almost floated across the floor, the way her eyes shone against the light and almost seemed to burn with life, these were all things I longed to see again. And the way she spoke to me, concerned with how I was, almost made me ache for her, made me feel like a teenager struck down with his first crush. I could imagine the cubicle door opening slowly and her standing naked before me, giving me a moment to gaze at her smooth body before the shower coated her skin in a wet sheen as she wrapped her arms around my neck. Soft lips on mine, nipples against my chest, her thigh between my legs.

And for one tiny moment as I heard the door open I thought that the fantasy was to become reality, and a myriad of thoughts ran through my head, some good, some terrifying.

‘Daniel?’ Through the heavily frosted glass I could just see her, almost indistinguishable. I moved back against the tiled wall away from the door as I realized she would also be able to my nakedness, blurred or not.

‘Yeah?’ I had to raise my voice slightly over the noise of the falling spray.

‘You forgot your tea. I’ll leave it by the door for you.’

Of course, that was all it would be. ‘Thankyou.’

‘Everything okay?’

‘It’s fine,’ I said trying to keep the disappointment from my voice and almost succeeding. ‘I won’t be long.’ 

I heard the door close and when I knew I was alone again I let out a huge breath, sadness and relief seemingly escaping me all at once. Suddenly I wanted to be free of the shower as fast as possible, and I found shampoo and washed my hair quickly before cleaning myself all over with a vanilla smelling body wash that stood on a small shelf in the cubicle. I allowed myself ten more seconds under the water, then snapped the dial closed and stepped out onto the tiles, the water gurgling into the drain behind me. I toweled off lightly and then wrapped the towel tightly around my waist and walked over to the mirror that rose proudly from a marble counter.

What a fool. Why would a woman like Virginie show any interest in a guy like me, a guy whose hair was too long, who had sunken eyes that struggled to show anything other than contempt, whose idea of dress sense was picking up whatever lay on the floor from the night before and whose idea of sophistication was Chinese food from a plate instead of the carton?

A guy who needed a drink so badly his hand were already starting to shake.

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

After I’d ran my fingers through my hair in some vague approximation of style I returned to the bedroom. The stick of incense had burned low but the smell was still there, heavy and calming. It was almost fully dark now, and I found a lamp near the bed and switched it on, the room filling with a red glow where the light bounced off the walls. My clothes were gone, and I could hear a faint humming which I assumed was the clothes drier working in another part of the apartment. I’d bought the mug of tea with me from the bathroom and I now sipped it while perched on the edge of the bed, the flavor hot and sweet, and wondered where Virginie was.

Music started in the living room, low enough so that I couldn’t identify who it was. I went to the door and opened it a fraction, my fingers curling around the edge as I peeked through

She was standing before the window with her arms folded and her head almost touching the glass. Her hair was now tied loosely behind her and she’d changed into a red robe that shimmered around her and brushed against the floor. In the lamplight of the room her body looked as if it might be bathed in blood. She redefined the definition of spectacular. She looked round and saw me.

‘Hey. You alright?’ 

I nodded. ‘My clothes?’

‘They’ll be dry soon, a few minutes,’ she said. ‘How was the tea?’

I stayed leaning against the door and smiled. ‘Good, actually. You might have a convert here.’ 

She returned my smile and turned her eyes back to the window. ‘Come and look at the city, Daniel, it’s so beautiful.’

‘Well, I’m not really dressed for it,’ I replied, my heart knocking against my chest. Virginie looked back towards me for a moment, then moved around the room and extinguished the two burning lamps. The robe slid against her body like the tide rolling into a beach, and as she walked I saw there were small dragons stitched into the cloth. After the lamps were dead the only light was from two candles that flickered high on a shelf and the city light that bathed the floor near the window.

‘Now if you want to come in, I can hardly see you,’ she said quietly.

I looked down at myself, made sure that the towel was covering everything it should be, took a deep breath and pushed the door open. I saw Virginie glance at my body for a moment, at my bare torso above the towel and my calves beneath it, and then she looked through the glass once more. I crossed slowly towards her, the music from the stereo an almost hypnotic trance of guitar and mellow beats. Sounded like Stereolab, but I couldn’t swear to it.

The view from the window was indeed more spectacular by night than day. Notre Dame was now brilliantly lit, and a glittering carpet of lights swept East away from the cathedral until they reached the stunning peak of the Eiffel Tower. Boats cruised the river, their lights creating patterns on the black water, and below us the road remained quiet. Expensive districts were afforded the luxury of access-only streets, and as such there was no noise coming through the windows of Virginie’s apartment, a stark contrast to my own horn-drenched area. The buildings before us still remained virtually in darkness, only random windows here and there were lit, and the top floor opposite of where we stood was nothing but shadow. The rain had now finally stopped, and far on the horizon I could see a yellow moon straining against the bank of clouds. Virginie was right; it was beautiful, and I told her so. She nodded.

‘I love this city,’ she whispered. ‘Some nights I just play music and watch it for hours, imagining what everyone is doing, who they are seeing.’

‘I wish I could have nights like that,’ I replied.

She looked up at me. ‘Why can’t you?’

‘I don’t really know how to relax,’ I said, and leant forward until my forehead was touching the cool glass. ‘I’ve forgotten how to enjoy simple things.’

‘You said you loved music. What’s more simple than that?’

My breath was fogging on the glass infront of me. ‘Music’s always there, I don’t have to make an effort with it,’ I replied, and then sighed, making more fog. ‘I mean looking at a view and seeing the beauty in it, or just enjoying the thrill of watching the world go by.’ I pulled away from the window and wiped the cloud with my hand before turning to face her. ‘Or just talking to someone, spending some time with them.’

‘You’re doing fine at the moment,’ said Virginie, resting a hand on my bare forearm, her face a dim glow with the city light.

I nodded. ‘I know, but the only reason I’m here is through your doing. I’d never have suggested it.’ I paused, thought about what I was going to say, and decided to say it anyway. ‘Even though I would have wanted to.’

She smiled, and squeezed my arm gently. ‘I got the impression you wanted to get away as fast as possible.

‘No. It just that... Just that I spend so much time alone it becomes almost natural.’

‘Do you mean you feel alone or you are alone.’ 

Her eyes were questioning and seemingly filled with care, so beautiful that I was forced to break our gaze and stare at my feet before I answered. ‘Both. I’m totally alone.’

I have a tattoo on my left bicep, a crude set of marks that used to mean so much but these days are nothing more than a constant reminder of who I used to be. Virginie now touched the tattoo, brushing her index finger across it, and then pressed herself against me. I almost stepped back with surprise as she did so, before I felt the smooth silk of her robe against my naked chest and her head fall onto my shoulder. Without thinking I stiffened, felt my muscles clench, and it was only when her hands ran up over my shoulder blades and she gripped me tightly that I realized I was trembling. I lowered my face to her sweet-smelling hair and tentatively put my arms around her, my hands meeting behind her back and encountering the subtle stitching of the dragons.

‘Why are you so afraid, Daniel?’ Her voice was muffled against me

I laughed softly, nervously. ‘I’m not.’

‘Then why are you shaking?’

I didn’t answer, just pulled her into me and squeezed my eyes shut. Her breath was rhythmical against my skin, warm and reassuring, and her hands stroked the top of my shoulders gently. Slowly I felt myself start to become calm, and I concentrated on the warmth of her body, her touch, and the music that quietly filled the room.

How long we stayed like that I can’t say, but the trance I’d almost seemed to settle into was roused when I felt her hand slide down over the ridges of my spine and stop when she met the scar tissue that rested there. For a moment her fingers moved over the network of raised flesh, and she stopped when she felt me tense again.

‘How did this happen,’ she said, still holding me tightly.

‘It was a long time ago,’ I said. ‘Another world.’ 

I desperately hoped she wouldn’t ask further questions; I’d been more honest with Virginie than I had with myself or anyone else for a long time. To my relief she remained silent, but her hand stayed low on my back, away from the scarring but caressing above the towel. She moved her head slightly, causing her hair to tickle lightly against my chest, and as she did so I felt the first stirrings of an erection against the damp towel, and I started to pull away.




The Angel and the Elf Lord



"You're all alone, my little angel," The elf lord towered over as the truth of his words sank in. She was all alone. Just an hour before, she had stood by her master in battle, ready to die for him if he requested it. He sent her on a mission, but somehow she was caught in a web as she soared through the forest. It was a cruel trap set by the elf lord. 

"I have been watching you, the prized possession of your master. But he is not your master anymore. You belong to me."

"No!" She protested, "I'll never be yours. My master will come for me."

"You'll see," he said. And with that final remark, he stepped back and closed the door of her cage. It was a wooden cage in the middle of the forest, sheltered by the trees. She could see the stars above peeking through the branches. She knelt down and prayed to her master. 

"Please rescue me," she whispered to the night sky. 

It was a long cold night that she spent alone in her cage. The elf lord woke her by running his hand through her long blond hair.

"Are you ready to submit to me?" 

"Never!" She pushed away from him. She stood, ready to fight. Her weapon was gone, but she still wore her armor.

The elf lord gave her some space and stepped away from her. "You are so sweet and innocent. I will show you the ways of the forest. I want you to be devoted to me as you were your former master. I will not abandon you."

Abandon, the word repeated in her mind. Was she abandoned? Why hasn't her master come for her? He is powerful enough to overpower this elf. He must have a plan for her. He always has a plan.

The young angel stood proudly, "I have faith in my lord."

"You will soon learn who your true lord and master is," the elf lord replied. "I will leave you with your thoughts. My elves will bring you breakfast shortly."

The day dragged on and the elf lord did not bother her again. From her cage, the angel watched the forest move alive around her. The elves were busy with their daily tasks and the trees and grass flourished. She could hear a nearby stream. Occasionally elves would come to bring her food and water. Mostly, she was not bothered. She spent much of her time praying to her lord to come rescue her. As the day wore on, she began wondering if her master would ever come.

The sun began to set and the elves retreated into the forest. The forest was going to sleep. The elf lord approached her cage for the second time that day.

"How are you feeling, my angel?" His voice was strong, but soft. 

She did not respond. She just turned angrily away from him.

"Have I not been kind to you?" The elf lord smiled. As he walked closer to the cage, the ground beneath her came to life. The elf lord opened her cage and stepped in as vines grew out of the ground and wrapped around her ankles. She was tethered to the ground and couldn't get away. The vines spread her legs until she lost her balance and fell backwards. More vines sprung from the ground and wrapped around her chest. She was completely immobile with her legs spread towards the elf lord.

"I'm going to show you how kind I can be," the elf lord knelt between her legs. Slowly, he pushed aside her skirt and carefully ripped her panties off of her.

"What are you doing? Please, stop! Don't hurt me!" the angel pleaded. The elf lord began kissing her thighs. She felt his breath as his lips grew closer to her most sensitive area. She tried to squirm away, but it was no use. Her bonds were too tight. What was he doing to her? Why? She had expected him to attack her ever since he stole her from the heavens, but this wasn't what she expected. He was being so gentle, so kind. And suddenly she started feeling something growing deep inside of her as he explored between her legs.

"No, no," she continued to protest. She didn't want it to feel good. Why did he have to make it feel good? His tongue glided up and down her slit, making little circles around her clit. He glided one finger inside of her. It slid in so easily, she was so wet. He felt good inside of her and a little moan was released from her. Her breath came quicker as he sped up the pace on her clit. His finger rubbed against her sensitive g-spot. Her mind was racing. Her body was on fire. 

"Please," she begged. But she didn't want him to stop. No, this felt too good. She had never experienced anything like it. Her back arched and she felt explosions ripple through her body. She let out a scream as she experienced her first orgasm.

She lay breathless on the ground. The vines that had held her captive now receded into the ground. The elf lord looked down upon her.

"Sleep well, my angel."

*********

The days wore on slowly. The angel stayed in her cage and every evening she was greeted by the elf lord, restrained to the forest floor, and treated to the best orgasms. He never hurt her. He was gentle and caring. She was beginning to doubt that her master was going to rescue her. But she was not ready to spend the rest of her life caged up in the forest, in the servitude of this elf. On the fifth morning since her capture, the elf lord came to her. 

"It is time that you get out of that cage and experience the full beauty of the forest." With that, the elf lord released her from the cage. Quickly, she spread her wings and rose towards the heavens. She was free! She was going to return to her master! 

"Not so fast," the elf lord laughed as he extended a hand towards her. A vine shot out of his hand and wrapped around her waist, snatching her from the air. She came back down to the ground, defeated. 

"You cannot escape, so don't try," he warned. "Now come with me." The elf lord led her by the hand and the vines dropped to the ground. They walked together for a while, following a winding path through the trees. Leaves dropped noiselessly around them as a cool breeze rustled through the trees. Ahead, the angel could hear rushing water. 

"Where are you taking me?" she inquired. 

"I'm taking you to a special place where we can be alone." They continued on silently. The noise of the water grew louder. Soon, she could see a clearing ahead. They stepped out from the trees to a rushing river. The sight was breathtaking. They were at the top of a waterfall. She could see the forest below and heavens above. It was the closest she has been to her home among the clouds since her capture.

The elf lord kissed her cheek softly as she stared into the heavens. "I brought you here so that you can see for yourself," he whispered in her ear. "He is not coming for you."

"No!" she exclaimed. She reached for the sky and screamed.

"He's not listening to you anymore. Don't you understand? You're mine." Tears streamed down her face and she dropped to her knees, praying. "If he wanted you, don't you think he would come rescue you?" His words were like daggers in her heart. She knew they were true. But how could her lord abandon her?

"I am your loving lord now. Let me show you passion that your former master never cared to give you." The elf lord reached for the angel. He pulled her from the ground and held her close to him. The elf lord kissed her deeply. She clung to her faith in her lord and pushed away from the elf. She fought against his grasp and freed herself. Once again, she made an attempt for the sky, spreading her wings wide. She felt something on her ankle. It was a chain attached to the rocks below. The chain gave her 20 feet of freedom, but would not let her break away. The angel grew angry at her jailor. If she cannot escape him, she will have to fight him. She lunged for him and he laughed as he dodged her.

"Yes, my angel, take out your anger on me. But it isn't me you are angry at. You are angry at your former master for deserting you!"

She felt the tears come again as she swooped down towards him. This time she was successful in knocking him over. The angel climbed on top of him and began punching the elf lord. Each punch landed squarely on their target, the elf lord's jaw. The elf lord merely chuckled. As powerful as the angel was, she was no match for the elf lord. She punched and punched until her punches became weak and sobs wracked her body. The elf lord hugged her close to him and rolled over so that he was on top of her. 

"Submit to me," he whispered. 

"Never!" and the angel found what energy was left in her to fight back. She pushed him off of her and flew towards the heavens with such force that she was sure the chain would break. It didn't, though. She reached towards the sky and flew with all of her force but the chains held her still. Below her, the elf lord laughed. He grabbed her chain and pulled her back down to earth. 

"Look into the sky. If your lord wanted you, he would part those clouds and reach for you. He isn't going to come for you." The elf lord's patience was growing thin. He reached for her armor and ripped it from her body. He tore the remaining clothes from her. "You are not his angel anymore. You are my slave."

The angel was uncomfortable being naked in front of the elf lord. She tried to cover herself with her arms. The elf lord pulled her arms away from her chest and looked down upon her marvelous chest. She was perfect in every way. 

He was so forceful when removing her clothes. The angel knew that if he wanted to, he could rape her right there. But he didn't. The elf lord was gentle. He brought his hand up behind her head and ran his fingers through her hair as he kissed her on the lips. She didn't fight back this time. His gentle kiss reminded her of the kindness he showed every night when he came to her and brought her to orgasm but didn't ask for more. The angel found herself kissing him back. 

The elf lord lowered her onto the ground. She lay naked on the stone as the elf lord kissed her deeply and pressed his body against hers. He kissed down her neck towards her heaving chest. She sighed as he softly licked around her tender nipples. She didn't want to enjoy it, just as she didn't want to enjoy his late night intrusions in her cage. But once again, her body betrayed her. His hand crept down between her legs as he kissed and teased her nipples.

"You are very wet, my angel. Call me your master and I will give you what you desire."

"No," she said breathlessly. His hand worked rhythmically between her legs and continued to kiss her chest. She felt that familiar tingle in her belly as her orgasm began to mount. He stopped abruptly and pulled his hand away from her. 

"No, please! Don't stop!" She begged. 

"Tell me I am your lord. Submit to me angel."

"I -- I- I can't," she stammered. She longed to feel his fingers inside her again. 

The elf lord repositioned himself between her legs. He released his massive elf cock from his pants. The angel's eyes grew wide when she saw what he intended to do to her.

"No," she cried.

"I won't hurt you," he said reassuringly. The elf lord lowered himself to her and kissed her gently on the lips. She felt his cock slowly slide into her. It was tight, but it didn't hurt. His kiss helped her relax and she took all of him into her. He pumped in and out and continued to kiss her. He kept a steady pace and brought her to the edge of orgasm again.

"What do you want from me?" He asked her as he slowed his pace. She squirmed against him. 

"Please, I need more!" 

The elf lord smiled and whispered to her, "You know what I want from you."

"Yes," she panted. Anything, she thought. I will say anything. I just need to feel that release again!

"Who am I?" asked the elf lord. He teased her with his cock, sliding the head slowly in and out of her.

"Mmm, you are my -- my- mmm -- mmaster!" It was difficult for her to say, but it wasn't good enough for the elf lord.

"Tell me what you want. Call me your elf lord!"

"I, I don't know," she stammered. She could hardly think. What does he want me to say?

"Tell me to fuck you," the elf lord coached her.

"Oh, fuck me. Please! Elf lord, master! Please!" her head was swimming. She couldn't take much more teasing. She needed him now!

The elf lord could tell she was struggling and her squirming against him was bringing him close to climax. But it still wasn't good enough. He needed to hear one more thing from her.

"Am I your lord?" he asked her.

"Yes," she screamed with no hesitation. "You are my lord! My master! Please fuck me now! Please lord! Please?"

With that final exclamation he slammed his cock deep inside her. Instantly, her body clenched around him. Her orgasm shook her body and seemed to last a lifetime. The elf lord also came at the same time she did, releasing his sperm inside her.

They collapsed together on the river bank. He pulled her close to him and she looked up into his eyes. She had finally accepted her new role.



The Angel and the Farmer



Laura had lived in the hills all of her life. As she grew up, she had seen Campbell, the local farmer's son, turn from a serious, skinny rake of a boy into a strong, silent man, dark-haired and so gorgeous that she couldn't help herself sneaking hungry looks at him, the way his arm muscles tensed as he hauled bales, or carried sacks of grain to the barns, the defined shape of his backside through the shabby old moleskin breeches he wore in the fields.

There was no way of telling what was going on behind that stony, impassive expression. The shadow of a frown often passed over his face as he walked past the women of the village, and Laura was careful to keep her head down, not wanting to incur a hostile look thrown from his penetratingly dark eyes. Other girls giggled sometimes, deliberately tried to catch his eyes, to rile him up, but she stayed silent and unnoticed.

At night, alone in her bed, sometimes she'd imagine him kissing her, his fingers stroking her face and grasping her hair to pull her closer to him, and then pulling her down, touching her breasts, her pussy, everywhere, and she'd find some new feeling take over, her fingers were drawn to her wet, swollen cunt and she'd stroke and press herself there until a shock of feeling came over her and she could finally fall asleep.

Every day, when her work was done, she would run to the top of the hill overlooking Campbell's fields, and sit there in amongst the gorse and heather, a small lone inconspicuous figure, watching him work the land. She tried to stop, to carry on with her life without him, saddened by her certainty that he would never take anyone, let alone her, to be his lover or his wife.

His parents had both died the previous winter, a hard, cold and protracted winter that many of the older villagers had not survived. The land too had suffered and it seemed harder than ever to draw a living from it. Laura knew too, how hard life could be, the youngest daughter of a family of boys, who always seemed to get to the food before she did. She worked hard, keeping their family home and smallholding in the best condition she could, but the consoling thought that some day she might meet a husband and raise herself into a better life seemed to fade with every season.

----

The day had come. Walking to the edge of the rocks on the river bank, Laura felt a strange sense of freedom and purity, knowing that she would be gone, never having known him.

But that's where the story changes. It would have to be this evening that their lives met. She had said her final sorry and her mind was set on her chosen course of action, when she saw him on the other side of the river. But it was too late to stop now, and in a way, it just made it the easier, knowing that he had no idea why this unknown girl was falling. She stepped off the edge, into the cold dark water.

Hitting her with a blow far harder than she'd imagined, she met the surface. The shock and the cold forced the breath out of her with a gasp, and as she sank, she could feel the weight of the deep on her shift, dragging her down further. She closed her eyes. Her body struggled, even though her mind had been made up: every cell, every nerve was fighting against that decision, trying to stay alive. But it was too late – the surface was too far above her now.

----

He had been walking behind the plough on the low fields, his boots catching and sticking in the heavy soil, one damp and gunmetal-grey afternoon, when a flicker of white off to one side caught his attention. He glanced up at the threatening skyline and saw a female figure walking along the high bank of the river, between his fields and the village. 

He had seen her before, Laura, the girl outlined darkly against the heavy sky, standing on the river bank. She was unlike the others of her age in the village, those silly girls who thought to exercise their power over him, and failed. Campbell knew that they laughed and blushed that way for all of the village men, and this made him turn away, despite their obvious attractions. Although admittedly, sometimes he did fall for those attractions: he remembered taking one particular dark-haired beauty round the back of the village hall, her white blouse undone and her pale, creamy breasts jolting as he thrust into her. Yet he always lost interest for those girls after such an encounter, disappointed in himself and determined once more to avoid such temporary pleasures.

Laura, unlike the other village girls, didn't often even look at him and when he did catch her eye, she would turn away quickly, busy herself with some other task. Sometimes he would wake at night, heated and confused, the dreamy feel of silky-soft skin fading from his finger tips, and wonder whether he would be secure enough, rich enough one day to be able to take a wife.

As he followed the plough, the gulls swinging and swooping in the sky above him, he recalled those dreams, with the shining gold rope of her hair and her eyes locked on his. Then, he noticed the figure on the riverbank stop still. And afterwards, his heart stopped as she plunged down into the river.

----

Laura woke with a gasp, sucking in the air with such surprise that she could still be here, still be breathing. As she looked around, she realised she had no idea where she was: the bare boards covering the walls, the white cotton sheets she felt against her were all unfamiliar.

She heard the metal latch on the door click and someone entered the room. Campbell. He walked over to the bed and pulled up a simple wooden stool to sit by her. He looked uncomfortable, didn't meet her eye.

"I saw you. I couldn't let you die. Laura?" He tailed off at the end, as though unsure of even her name. She nodded, dazed at her good fortune to be alive, amazed that he knew who she was.

Laura tested whether she could still speak and found her voice. "Thank you. How long have I been asleep?"

He turned towards her slightly, his brown eyes, fringed with dark lashes, meeting hers for a second before flickering away. "Three days. I wasn't sure if you would make it."

"My family?" she murmured, wondering why she was here instead of at home, in the familiar noise and bustle.

"Yes, they sent word that they will come for you, tomorrow at my guess. They did not want to move you in your...condition," he responded, hesitantly.

He left the room abruptly and returned with a basin of soup, steam rising in curls from its surface, and a roll of bread. He placed them on the stool beside her bed, and her eyes were drawn to him as he bent at her side. His dark curls, the perfect whorl of his ear, the strength of his neck, bronzed from the sun, emerging from his shirt-collar.

And then he was gone. She ate, and started to feel slightly better. Outside she could hear the sounds of farm life continue on just as before, as though she had never fallen, as they had done through thousands of years of the seasons turning. She waited for Campbell to return, lying in the soft linen bed, luxuriating in so much space, so much time.

That night he returned again, bringing food and enquiring solicitously if there was anything he could do to make her more comfortable as she regained her strength. Laura could feel the fur over her teeth, stickiness on the nape of her neck where she had been lying against the pillow for so many hours. "I wonder...could I bathe myself? I feel so dirty..."

"Are you not afraid of the water?" he asked anxiously, a flicker of a frown creasing his forehead. "I, for one, cannot bear to see you underwater again so soon. I will allow it, but I will be watching to make sure you don't submerge yourself." She looked up guiltily, to see a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

----

He kept his eyes trained on the floor in front of him, avoiding staring at the outline of her nakedness through her thin shift as he carried her into the kitchen, where a tin bath full of hot water was steaming in front of the stove, shielded by a wooden screen. Yet he could not help but feel the warmth and softness of her, and how light she felt in his arms as he cradled her.

The feeling wrenched his mind back to the moment when he had grabbed her limp body in the river, skin cooled by the freezing water and her white underclothes slick and translucent against her skin. He saw again, in his mind, the water pouring off her as he pulled her onto the bank, panting with exertion and hoping to God that she would live.

On the flagstone floor of the kitchen, Campbell let Laura stand and gestured for her to disrobe behind the screen. She stood tentatively, still holding onto his arms for support, and she saw him carefully search her face, as if for any sign of distress or sadness.

Laura looked up at him and a shiver of desire passed through her. Nearly dying had made her feel more alive – she felt changed, as though she would grasp every opportunity life threw at her and make the most of every second that she had regained.

She felt him start turning away, and before she could stop herself, she strengthened her grip on his shirt sleeve to prevent him. He resisted for a moment, muscles tensing, and then softened. Looking deep into his brown eyes, Laura pulled the loose shift over her head and stepped into the bath, lowering herself into the warmth. 

"Wash me", she commanded in a whisper, her white arm reaching up towards him holding the cloth. He took it and began to run it over her body, starting with her neck, moving down over her breasts and stomach. As he passed the fabric over her, she could feel her skin responding, every nerve tingling with the sensation of a man's touch, Campbell's touch, on her. She looked down at her nipples, hardening as the cloth and Campbell's rough fingertips moved across them.

His face was calm, his expression reverent. The atmosphere in the room had changed and Laura could feel her heart beating faster. She swallowed, nervous. Suddenly, Campbell dipped his head down and kissed her. His lips were soft and she instinctively opened her mouth to his, their tongues meeting. Reaching up to touch his throat as they kissed, Laura and felt his pulse fast under the smooth, smooth skin.

He stepped back as she stood up, a little unsteady on her feet. Handing her a coarse towel, he stood motionless as she started to dry herself. She felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment as she stood there naked, her breasts and the tuft of hair between her legs on display to him. But when she looked up she could see his gaze raking across her greedily, his body tense, his hands clenched by his sides.

She felt a jolt of pleasure shoot down her body as he looked at her, pulsing into her groin in a way she'd never felt before.

"I need you to come to bed with me," he growled, his voice rough and low. She didn't answer, merely walked over to where he stood and threaded her fingers through his. He led her through to his bedroom, where she climbed onto his bed as he undressed himself hurriedly, pulling off his heavy boots, shirt and breeches. She realised that he was naked underneath, as his hard cock sprang free. He clambered onto the bed with her and suddenly his arms were around her, he was kissing her throat and pressing her against the sheets, pushing himself against her.

Neither of them knew what they were doing, but they both knew they wanted to get as close to one another, as close to being inside each other's skin, as possible. They lay there, kissing, mouths open, tongues meeting, until Campbell couldn't bear it any more and spread her legs, reaching for the core of her, and she shuddered as he touched her, explored his way around every inch of her with the pads of his fingers. She looked down and saw how solid he was, how big his hands looked against her, and felt another convulsion as she imagined his fingers pushing inside her.

Campbell looked down at the beauty laid out below him in the flickering candle light and could not believe his good luck. The quiet girl, with the gaze that darted away from his like a frightened animal, had bewitched him with her strange mix of sorrow and determination. He could feel the silk of her skin against his, just like he had dreamed. She was clinging onto him as though he was the strongest man in the world, the only one who could save her. He had felt how wet she was, how ready.

A small moan escaped his lips as he entered her, and it felt so good, Laura's whole body tingled as the whole hard length of him filled her. She looked up at Campbell, his eyes opened wide as he moaned, softly. Laura reached up to stroke the strong line of his jaw, and he twisted to take her fingers into his mouth. She opened her legs a little wider and wrapped her legs around his hips as he started to pump quicker, and she felt herself shut off, concentrating totally on the feeling. He leant over her, caught her erect nipple in his mouth and sucked, causing her to cry out with pleasure. Her hips arched up to meet him as he thrust into her, again and again.

----

The dawn broke over Campbell's fields and lit up the tangle of linen, blankets and limbs on the bed where Campbell and Laura lay. As she opened her eyes, she reached out and gently touched the tousled dark curls that lay on the pillow beside her. Campbell woke and their eyes met. He smiled and reached back across to her, smoothing his hand down her spine and over the curve of her bottom. Laura's skin prickled pleasurably and she sidled across the expanse of sheet between them, to rest against his shoulder.

"Do I have to go home today?" she asked, quietly.

Campbell breathed deep and a look of pure happiness spread across his face, as he replied, "You are home, my angel."



The Angel & the Old Man



The cry of a raven wakes me, and I find myself in a bleak forest. By the smell in the air, bare trees and the layer of frost, it must be mid fall.

Trying to sit up, a dull ache rushes to behind my eyes and my right shoulder. Managing to roll just before collapsing back to mother earth. A second attempt allows me to stand, and now on uneasy legs I gather my meager belongings and my sword.

Finding my way along a treeline, under a cold and grey sky, I peer out over what I'm sure was once a wheat field, to a cropping of pine trees, a plume of white smoke.

Traveling, as quick as my battered form will let me, deep into this sea of evergreens. The sound of the brown needles crunch beneath my boots as the wind swishes through the trees. Then finally a stream. Dropping to my knees, the mud harder than I expected. Both hands pulling the crisp water to my face, shocked at first and then revitalized. I dink handful after handful. Not realizing how thirsty I was, pausing to catch my breath, kneeling in the cold mud, feeling the water run down my chin and neck. Looking at my reflection in the water, seeing a weary young man with a gash over his left eye..

Carefully I clean myself as best as I can.

Feeling a little steadier, I continue toward where I saw the smoke. Every step bringing me closer, my mind a flurry, where the hell am I? , how did I get here?, how did I get hurt?

Coming to a clearing, I see a small, cottage, stone and log, with a thatch roof. The smoke ,lazily, drifting from the chimney. Quickly, looking around, I draw my sword and close to the door.

Listening before pulling it open, a wave of warmth hits me, and I am drawn in. The only light, coming from the fireplace. A stewpot bubbling, dry herbs hang from the wall and rafters. A few pieces of simple furniture, a table, a few stools, furs and skins of wolf and deer. Two other rooms with a bed each and a chest, little else.

Staggering back to the first room, beginning to sway. Maybe I have pushed myself too hard, too fast. The heat, the cut above my eye, this damned pain. Squinting, bringing my hands to my face, a lightness to my thoughts.

Barely feeling the thud of meeting the floor, I fall into a well of darkness.

Whispers filling the air as shadows pass over me, hands piling and grabbing. The heat building around me, feeling like I'm drowning, being swallowed, silent screams, my heart pounding .

Launching up, eyes trying to adjust, feeling warm hands on my bare chest. Panting and gasping, eyes coming to focus on...an angel?

Soft eyes meet mine, words like never had I heard before. All I understand is the sound "...shhhhhhhh..."So soothingly and suggestive that I have no choice but to lean back. watching her , hands pulling the blanket up over me, just to my chin. Then raising one hand to her face, forking her

fingers, drawing them over her eyes so that the lids fall, and then placing the palms together and at one side of her head.

Following her instruction, I drift back to sleep. For the first time in I can't remember when, I dreamed. Images filled my head, places I'd been to, persons I knew, far away lands like never thought of, magical and mystical and all apparently to be part of my destiny. Eventually the angel appeared in a crowd of strangers who seemed to know me as well. If I could put pen to paper to chronicle the incredible events and wondrous places I saw in that dream, I would surely be inscribing it for the rest of my days.

The dream did pause from time to time and I would hear whispers and sounds I could not make out.

Finally a sound I knew came to my ears. A sound I had heard almost everyday. It was repeated over and over again. first starting slow, a determined grinding, followed by a long fluid stroke, ending in a sudden silence, in endless repetition.

Opening my eyes, looking across that same room I collapsed in those many hours before. A visage of an older man, sitting at the table, slowly and methodically drawing a whet stone over the edge of my gladius, humming quietly.

Lifting my blanket to see that , except for a bandage over my shoulder, I have been stripped bare. Though my movement was slight, they did not escape his eyes. Continuing with his manual motion, barely lifting and eyebrow, he calls out some words.

In the doorway for the back room stood the angel. She approached

with soundless steps, like a cat. Nearing me, only to get so close, until he old man said a single word, stopping her in her tracks.

Reluctantly she obeys and returns to the table, to speak to him in whispers. I know not the language, but the meaning is clear.

While they spoke, I reached back over my shoulder, running my fingertips atop the bandage. Still quite sensitive, I wince when my curiosity gets the better of me. The older man nonchalantly lifts up a small object from the table top. even with just the fire light , it was easy to focus on the barbed arrow head, held between his fingers.

Through parched lips, I bid him thanks for his kindness. Foreign words but common sentiment. I am received with a smile and knowing nod.

The angel returned to her backroom activities, and as I righted myself, a rumble from my belly brought another smile to my benevolent host.

More words and the angel hurries back and over with a bowl of steaming stew and a crust of bread. With great caution she held it out at arms length. Our eyes meeting briefly, as fingertips touched and only too quickly did she look away, before I could thank her.

Tasting the first spoonful, beef and barley to my delight. Losing my manners, I ate perhaps too aggressively, their light laughter makes me pause. Still smiling, they wave enthusiastically for me to continue, so I do.

With my hunger sated, the angel and the old man retired for the evening to their back rooms. Again I return to the realm of dreams.

When I woke, I found my hosts had already left for their daily activities. At the foot of the bed, was my clothes, clean, and neatly folded, the holes and tears mended.

Getting dressed, I looked around the cottage, noting how cozy it really was. The closest thing to a home that I had in years.

Walking over to the table, finding a plate of bread and cheese. while I ate, I marveled at the old mans ability with a whetstone. My gladius and knives held newly honed razor edges.

Wanting to put his talent to a good use, I selected one of the smaller one to shave with.

Aside the fireplace, my boots stood on small poles to dry out properly. My armor cleaned of the caked blood and grime, gleaming in a thin layer of oil. I wondered who these generous people were.

Stepping out of the cottage, the crisp air feels good, happy it's still early enough in the season that I might find what I seek. Hurriedly, I work my way around the woods, keen eyes and sharp ears in my gathering. Careful not to tax my new found strength, nor open my healing wound.

I did manage to collect enough dry wood for a few days, some fresh mushrooms, a bowlful of wild strawberries that the heavens must have been keeping them safe for me.

For the angel, picked wild flowers, bound in a leather strip.

Upon their return, a bounty of fish, freshly caught was brought in, wide eyes and bright smiles let me know my efforts were gratefully and warmly welcome.

As the angel held and gazed upon the bouquet, I tried not to stare, but failed miserably. It was then when I felt her fathers eyes suddenly and quite coldly fall upon me.

I tried to keep busy, however I could, but in truth, the kitchen is a battle ground I was not suited for, so wisely I got out of her way .

He and I went outside, dusk was almost on us, just enough time for him to point out the boundries of his land. He took me past the stream where the fish were caught, the wheat field, showed me where the deer bed down for the night and in the winter. It was perhaps the nicest piece of property I had seen in a while. I did not care to speculate on the reason of the tour.

Later, we three dined and laughed, and if not for a bottle of wine, I would not have told all those stories that you'd have to have been there and spoke the language to truly appreciate, but they laughed none the less.

Lightheaded or not I did my best to keep my eye contact with the angel to a minimum, though I knew not how.

In that evening, closer to morn than mid, with shutters open and pale moonlight for me to bask in, did I feel the light touch of fingertips upon my bare skin. My eyes stayed shut for fear it was but a dream and lest I wake from it. Till I could take no more, and I had to set mine eyes upon her. Beheld in the soft lunar glow, she sat aside me. Sitting up so that I might more evenly take in her unearthly beauty.

Reaching out a trembling but curious hand, caressing my cheek. My hand gently placed over hers, turning my head to kiss her palm. Eyes never leaving hers. pressing my lips lovingly on fingertips. Finishing with the smallest, turning to face her.

We lean, in unison, drawn to one another. so close I can feel the warmth from her body, her breath and mine mixing. Heads angling. Eyelids heavy, about to drop the instant we make contact. Our lips a whisper away.

"...max..."

"...Max..."

"...Maximus?..."

Snapping my eyes open to find myself behind the bar. Regulars filling every stool, the tub a bevy of aqueous frolicking. Directly in front of me , she who drew me from my reverie.

"Hmmm?..What?...Oh! I'm sorry...iced tea, extra lemon " adding with a light smile "and a bubble gum pink bendy straw...right?"

"Right" pausing a moment , looking at me, as to get an idea of what

could was going on behind my eyes before she finally queried "Are you alright Max?"

With a nod I answer "Yes Lieutenant, it's just ...well for a second there" letting loose a slight sigh "you reminded me of someone I knew ...a long time ago.”



The Angel And The Slut



Tina:

My fantasy involves an ultra suave and sophisticated mature man with dashing looks and impeccable manners sweeping me off my feet in a whirlwind of romance. He will wine and dine me in a style to which I am yet to be accustomed. His conversation will be witty and interesting. He will be beautifully dressed in bespoke shirts and suits and wear just a hint of expensive aftershave.

By the time the meal is over I'll be so wrapped up in him that I will be putty in is hands. When he suggests we go up to his hotel suite I eagerly agree. He pours us a glass of port and invites me to sit next to him on the sofa. I look into his deep blue eyes and feel a shiver of desire course through me. My animal instinct start to surface. I want this man. I want to feel him close and feel his power and urgency moving within me.

But he takes his time. I decline a second glass of port and wait in fevered anticipation for him to make his first move. He kisses the back of my hand and looks up at me. I think he can see the desire spilling out of my eyes. He moves his lips up to the nape of my neck and I shudder in delight as his soft lips brush against my skin. Then he cups my head in his strong hands and kisses me, long and deep. I think I'm beginning to understand how women in days of old used to faint clean away. His tongue is like a wicked serpent tempting me to give myself up to his use and desire. My pussy is wet and I can't wait.

He undresses me slowly and kisses me once more before at last moving his tongue down to my breasts. His hot tongue circles my little erotic warriors before he teases them with his teeth. Then he licks and nibbles and sucks me into absolute ecstasy. I writhe around on the bed as his hand slowly slips down my smooth, flat stomach. His long fingers tease around my belly button while his tongue still pleasures my nipples. Then at last his fingers slips onto my puffed up lips and he teases me apart.

I shiver as he kisses down my belly and then at last, oh what joy! he kisses my pussy lips and tongues and nibbles me into a frenzy. I thrash around on the bed, begging and pleading with him to penetrate me but he ignores my cries. He takes his time, eating me like a delicate fruit that has to be savoured lest you never have another one. I pinch my nipples now as he gently finger fucks me while gently teasing my clit. I need him so bad I am almost in tears as I beg once more for him to enter me.

He strips quickly. I catch sight of a big, thick brown cock jutting out of a hairy crotch. He spits onto his angry looking cockhead and rubs the spit into it. And then at last he enters me with one thrust. Oh such ecstatic joy as that thick cock fills me completely. At last I am made whole as he thrusts into and I grab a hold of his hips and urge him on. We are two animals now, the thin veneer of sophistication long forgotten as we rut and fuck, desperate to achieve orgasm.

Surprisingly I am the first one to reach there and I wail and moan as pleasure washes over me. My nails rake down his back and I am shocked by the torrent of cuss words that escape from my lips as I urge him on. His gentle moans suddenly explode into a horny grunt as he blast off inside me. He shudders and whimpers before laying his head on my breast and drifting off to sleep.

Helen

I am tired of being a good girl. I have nice house in a nice suburb, with a good husband. I do charity work, I recycle stuff, I care about the environment. But oh, just once, I want to be a slut.

My fantasy involves Bob and Ben, the garbage men. Both of them are well built and hairy and look at me with such lust I'm surprised I have any clothes left. In my fantasy I invite them in for a cup of coffee.

But Bob and Ben have other things on their mind. Bob strips off down to his underpants. I am surprised by just how hairy he is and what an incredibly large bulge there is in his budget line shorts. I think Ben is slightly shocked by his workmate's behaviour but when he sees me cup a well manicured hand around Bob's big bulge he too strips down to his boxers. His fat mushroom cap peeps out through the slit in his boxers and I am overcome with desire.

I go and kneel before Ben and lower his boxers down to his ankles. He steps out of them and I start nibbling on his big, furry nuts. I have never been this close to a man's bits before. I have never kissed my husbands balls, or even his cock for that matter. We fuck in the missionary position and I think he would be shocked if I suggested giving him a blowjob. Despite my lack of experience I grab a hold of Ben's impressive cock and take it onto my mouth.

Bob tugs desperately at my clothes. I quickly strip off and kneel over Ben who has lain down on the floor. Bob's rough, greedy tongue starts lapping at my pussy and I experience sensations unlike any I have ever known before. I get up and push Bob down flat on his back, leaving Ben unattended, as I sit down on his face. He goes crazy and eats my pussy till I think I might explode with pleasure. Ben comes over and starts playing with my tits. He kisses my nipples and soon I am experiencing my first orgasmic rush.

The horny pair begin to make their hunger known. Ben pulls me off Bob's face and impales me on his eight inch cock. Bob jerks on his big throbber while he watches. A few minutes later he pulls me away from Ben and enters me. I am their rag doll plaything as they take turns using my pussy for their pleasure. I am turned on by the slutiness of it all. I feel down and dirty, like a real trashy tramp and I shock them by suggesting that they both fuck my cunt at the same time.

They hesitate at first, perhaps thinking they ought not to be doing such a thing, but lust soon overcomes them when I beg for their cocks and they give in. We hurry to the bedroom and Bob lies down on the bed. His cock is thicker around than Ben's and much darker. I kneel over him and guide his hard prick into my wet pussy and lean forward to kiss him. His kiss is surprisingly tender now. And then I feel Ben start to slide in alongside Bob, stretching me to the max. I moan as the pair start rubbing their cocks against each other deep inside my pussy. Two pairs of hairs stroke and tug my flesh and I am soon completely lost in lust.

Wave after wave of pleasure washes over me and I surrender to the power of orgasm. I moan and cry as their powerful tools pleasure me beyond anything I have ever known. A deep guttural groan rises from underneath me. There is panting and cursing behind me and it seems as if both men shoot their bolt at once. 

I think both are a bit embarrassed by what they've done so they quickly dress and leave while I soak in a hot bath and relive the pleasure they have just given to me.



The Angel By My Side



It was a cold and blustery Saturday in November as I stood on the rolling grasses of the hill. The cold breeze stirred my hair as I looked down at my feet. A single rose, deep red, was clenched in my hand. I brought the flower to my lips and kissed it before setting it on the marble marker in the ground. It read: Lillian MacDonald, beloved wife and mother.

The deep scars in the grass over her grave were still healing. In a few days, I'd be placing my father by her side. I'd just come from the hospital after they'd pronounced my father dead. Finally they were at peace. Finally, they were together again. Even though my father followed my mother to the other side just a few months behind her, they hadn't been together for years. My father had had Alzheimer's and he'd disappeared into his past long before my mother had finally succumbed to the cancer that riddled her body. As I started to turn, my mind asked the question silently. Were they at peace?

Yes.

The voice, so loud in the still morning, came from nowhere and made me pause. My heart rate skittered into panic mode. I stared over the field of headstones, searching for the source of that voice. When I saw no one, I shook my head. There was nobody there.

As I sat in my car, voices from my past echoed in my mind. My father's gruff voice filled my memory.

"You'll go to college, Michael. That's final."

I had looked at my father and shook my head. "How can I?" He'd been fifty-five when I was born. I came so late into their lives. Now at seventy-two, he was stooped and angry. I loved the man more than I could say, but I couldn't leave them.

"We saved for your education. We wanted you—"

I held up my hand. "I wasn't worried about the money, Dad." I put my arm around his shoulder. "But I can't leave you either."

Mom came into the room, weak and ethereal, almost gaunt. Her eyes were pinched with pain. "Michael! We'll be fine. You must go to school."

I hung my head at her words. At sixty-five, my mother stood gently, as if every move hurt her. I knew it must. She'd just had surgery. I came into their lives so late, a menopausal accident. While most of my friends worried about what they'd do over their summer break, I spent my time at the hospital. The cancer, although caught early, was persistent. She'd be fine. She had to be.

I felt powerless as I watched them. While in the hospital, my father had become agitated and confused while waiting for my mother to come through surgery. So agitated, that a doctor had looked him over. Then he'd been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. I shook my head. I knew they had dreams for me, but how could I leave them? What could I do?

"How about a compromise? I can go to the local college and live here."

I know my mother would have been appalled had she realized how much her face showed her relief. In the end, it was the only decision I could make.

As my memories faded, I wiped the tears from my cheeks. Would they never stop? I'd been crying for months it seemed. None of it mattered now. It was over. They were at peace and no longer hurting. I put my car into gear and drove home.

After I laid my father to rest, I sat in the house I grew up in and stared out over the yard. The well-wishers had finally left. Old friends of my parents who cupped my cheek and shared old stories I'd heard many, many times over. "Your dad was damn proud of you, boy." "Fought in the big one and saved my life." "He's far happier now, son. Don't doubt it." In the end, all they had been were faces. Faces I'd grown up with, now much older. I turned from the window and started again on the box in their bedroom.

I sighed as I put the last of my parent's clothes into large garbage sacks, bound for the Goodwill. At least work had been decent. My boss had come into the small, cramped office and gruffly put his hand on my shoulder. "Take some time off, kid. Your old man was a good worker for this company." His voice had been gravelly and he'd shrugged uncomfortably when I'd thanked him. They all knew what I went through for my parents.

After school, I'd had to get a job to help out with the bills. I never got a chance to go beyond the community college. My father had been furious when I took a job as the bookkeeper at his old company. "Damn it, Michael! I don't want you to throw your life away."

I had stood up to my father, and stared him down. "What choice is there? Mom isn't getting better." I quieted my anger and put my hand on my father's shoulder. "You're starting to forget more and more."

Dad's eyes were stricken when he looked at me, the fight draining from him. "I know, son. I know." His eyes had grown moist. "I forget you're not the same boy I bounced on my knee."

I held my father as the tears began. Most days, he couldn't remember why his wife was in the hospital. In my heart I knew that a day would soon come when he'd forget everything about me. "It's okay, dad. The job isn't that bad. And I'll be home at night, when mom gets home."

And that's what I did. I got up early and fed my father. I waited for the next-door neighbor to stop by, and then left for work. I put in ten hours a day, and then came home and cooked and cleaned. Mom never really got better and dad slipped further and further into the past with each day.

I picked up one of the many photo albums in their bedroom and thumbed through the pages. My mother had spent hours creating each one for my father. As his mind deteriorated, he would have these books in a blind, futile hope that it would spark something inside him. There were happy photos of a young version of my father in an army uniform, a beautiful young woman in a flowered dress, the same two in wedding finery, dad smiling with his hard hat on at the oil refinery. Mom dressed in her best dress for their anniversary. Laughter. Tears. Memories. In the end, they had done nothing to ease my father.

I had sat by her bed, holding her hand in the hospital. It was nearly over. Her body was consumed with the cancer, her mind the only fully working part of her. The machines by the bed droned by her as she took each ragged breath. "Promise me, Michael. Promise me you'll find a good home for him."

I held her hand and willed my own tears away. "I can't put him in a home, mom."

She touched my face with her weathered hand, tears of extreme pain glistened in her eyes. "You're twenty-five, Michael. It's time you got to live your own life."

I bowed my head over her hand and pressed a kiss into her knuckles. "It doesn't matter, mom. Don't ask this of me."

Her other hand came and rested on my head, patting my hair. "My poor baby. So lost. So alone." I looked up at her words. Her face creased in a faint smile, a shadow of the warm glow that had beamed only for me from the time I could first remember. "Don't shut yourself away, Michael. Find a nice boy and settle down. You deserve happiness."

Her words stole my breath. How could she know? I never spoke the words aloud. "But…"

"How could I know?" When I nodded, she continued, her voice faint. "I've always known. Don't be sad. It's okay. I love you as you are. I always will."

The tears slowly fell down my cheeks as I kissed her hand again. She'd given me such a rare gift. Acceptance. "I love you, mom."

"I love you too, baby." She lay back against the bed, her eyes tired as her face relaxed. "If I could, I'd make sure you were happy."

The tears lodged in my throat, making my words hoarse. "Oh, mom. Don't. I'll be fine."

Her face creased in another smile as she stared at the ceiling. "I don't know where I'm going, but I believe. It will be over soon, love. Learn from us, Michael. Don't let your life get away from you."

Those were her last words to me. The last words she ever uttered. I sat by her side until the beeping monitors beside me stopped and her body lost its rigid look. The pain left her and she relaxed into peace. It should have been horrible. It should have been scary. It was neither. It was almost beautiful, to watch her melt into eternity.

I sat on the edge of my parent's bed, the photo album long forgotten as it clattered to the floor. I brushed the tears from my eyes furiously. Damn tears never seemed to stop. When will this pain end?

Soon.

The voice called out to me, quiet but deep, reverberating off the walls. I stood and stepped back, tripping over the edge of the bed. As I lay sprawled on the floor, I looked all around. Who kept talking to me?

I did.

My heart lodged in my throat. Who are you?

You know.

"Why are you talking to me?"

You asked the questions. I simply answered.

I stared around me, my breath heaving with adrenalin. "Where are you?"

Around.

My brows furrowed in annoyance. "Are you always this evasive?"

The voice chuckled long and richly. When it suits my purpose, yes.

"What is your purpose in talking to me?"

Soon.

I waited, but the voice didn't speak again. I shook my head as I left my parent's bedroom. I needed a drink. As I walked downstairs, I almost convinced myself it was all a dream. After two glasses of whiskey, I was positive I'd imagined it all.

A few days later, I was mindlessly droning through some billing invoices. I came back to work early, probably earlier than I should. But I couldn't stay at home and brood anymore either. It was nearing end of shift and I knew if I didn't go to the restroom before I left, I wouldn't make it home. I headed down the hall, but the single office restroom was occupied. I couldn't wait, so I headed towards the back and the crew locker room.

When I stepped inside, the sounds of running water from the shower filled my ears. The place smelled like sweat and was humid from multiple showers. It was Friday; no one worked late on Fridays. I relieved myself and went to the sink to wash my hands. As I rinsed them of the soap, Jim Shipman walked into the sink area, a towel slung low on his hips, his hair still wet and finger combed from his shower. I blinked hard and focused on the mirror. I felt my face heat with embarrassment and a bit of arousal. Jim was a big man, not beautiful or even handsome, just big and powerful, burly. From the corner of my eyes, I watched as a drop of water slipped down his chest, trailing through the whirls of dark, thick hair down to his belly. I swallowed as I grabbed a paper towel.

"Hey Michael. How are you doing?"

I gave Jim a small smile as I tried to look anywhere but at the towel which bulged slightly at his crotch. "I'm good. Thanks."

He grabbed his deodorant out of a small shaving kit on the counter and turned to face me as he put it on. "I'm sorry about your dad. He was a good man. He trained me when I first started."

I nodded, lost in the sight of his big arms and bigger shoulders, the sight of the silky hair under his arms as he rubbed the deodorant stick there. "I didn't know that."

He grinned at me before he took off his towel and grabbed his briefs from the little bag on the counter. "How are you holding up?"

How could he act so casual? I couldn't help but glance at the thick length of him at rest over big, heavy testicles. I'd seen other men before, but this one, this one had always made me look twice. I swallowed twice before I could answer. "I'm okay. It's hard… but…"

I couldn't believe I'd said it was hard. But it was, and getting harder by the moment. I wanted to shift my legs to ease the ache, but I stayed still, terrified Jim would know I was hot for him. His smile was soft and kind as he looked at me. "I know how you feel. I lost my mother last year. It takes time, but it does get better."

I smiled at him and tried to move away, but my feet refused to listen to me. "Thanks. I needed to hear that." I watched as Jim stepped into his briefs and started pulling them up his legs. I turned away and was about to head out of the locker room. Jim's voice stopped me.

"Hey, Michael?"

I turned around and saw Jim standing with his hands on his hips, his briefs strained on his thighs, just below his balls. I swallowed as his cock began to thicken and harden before me. I tore my eyes from the sight as I stared into Jim's face. He smiled at me and winked. "I know you want it. Have at it, kid."

I was powerless to move as I watched his hand lower and take his rigid cock in his hand and stroke once from base to tip. A shiny drop of excitement beaded at the tip. I smacked my lips, dying for a taste. I stepped forward and blinked. Jim's back was turned to me as he drew on his pants. "If you want to join us tonight for a beer, we'd be glad to have you."

I spun away, embarrassed and beyond mortified. It had been a fantasy, a dream. My hands shook as I touched my face, scalded by the heat in my cheeks. "Th-thanks Jim. But I can't. Some other time."

I turned and fled from the room and barely paused for my coat in my little office. My hands shook as I tried to open my car door. When I sat down behind the wheel, I winced at the confined pinch of my erection behind my jeans. I lowered my forehead to the steering wheel and took several deep breaths before I was calm enough to drive.

As I drove home, I banged my fist against my steering wheel. "What the hell was I thinking?" I'm not out at work. No one knows. I shook my head and drove home. When I got to the house, I was still agitated. My hands shook. My throat was tight and my face on fire. I tried to do a little housework. I grabbed some of the dishes on the counter and started filling the sink with hot water and suds. Shaking with desire, I tossed the dishes in the sink and braced myself against the counter. When the shuddering of my body would not cease, I dropped my head and cursed. I tossed aside the dishtowel and started towards the stairs.

As I took the first step, I started unbuttoning my shirt. By the time I got to the top step, my shirt was open. I ran my hand against my belly, tugging slightly on the baby fine trail of hair that led from my belly button into my pants. The slight tug caused me to pause and lean against the wall, moaning slightly. When I could take a deep breath, I continued along the hall to my bedroom. Before I'd even opened the door, I had my pants undone and my palm pressed against my erection under my underwear. The simple pressure made my eyes cross.

I dropped my pants and stepped on my socks to remove them. I peeled off my shirt and flopped back onto my bed. My hand trembled as I ran it over my sparsely dusted sternum until I could flick one of my nipples. My other hand grasped my erection and squeezed the tip, slimy with my excitement. I took my hand and brought it to my lips. I sniffed deeply of my excitement and sucked one finger into my mouth, lapping at the pad of my thumb until the last of the flavor was gone. My hand went back to my erection and began to stroke in earnest. My belly tightened as I moaned out loud.

I let my mind wander, filling it with images of Jim, both from reality and my fantasy. My head arched against the pillow as I lowered my hand and caressed my balls. I imagined what it would be like if my fantasy had been reality and Jim had really offered himself to me. As my hand stroked faster, I imagined dropping to my knees and taking him into my mouth, caressing him with my tongue. I fought for breath as the sensations grew tighter in my belly, as my body readied to explode. It had been weeks since I'd last pleasured myself, since I'd last found release.

Why are you doing that?

The voice shocked me into stopping, my breath panting. My body instantly cooled as I grabbed at the sheets below my body. I wrapped myself with the sheet and shook from repressed need and an uncontrollable anger. "Who the hell are you?"

I've already told you.

I snorted as I stared at nothing. "'You already know' isn't an answer."

You're angry?

"You're damn right I'm angry! Not only do you pop into my head at odd times, but you invade my privacy."

A heavy, weighty pause filled the room with nothing. Why were you doing that?

I shook my head. Was he serious? "You've got to be kidding."

I don't have a sense of humor.

I rolled my eyes as I stood up and grabbed my briefs from the floor. I shimmied them on under the sheet. "Obviously." As I grabbed my pants and slipped those on, I turned and faced the wall. Hell, I didn't know where the voice was coming from. "Why are you here?" When silence answered me, I bowed my head. "Please?"

I… I don't think you'll like the answer.

"So what else is new?"

I haven't watched CNN today. I don't know.

I stopped and looked around. "Are you always this literal?"

Yes.

I sat on the edge of my bed and pulled my socks on. "Will you at least show yourself to me? I like to know with whom I'm speaking."

Shield your eyes.

"Why?"

I never got an answer as the room filled with a bright light, brighter than the sun on the hottest day in July. I raised my hand to shield my eyes, but the light didn't seem to hurt them. The air in the room stirred and swirled. It shifted the curtains and ruffled my hair. The light shrunk in on itself by the window until it was a single glowing ball. Fire erupted out of the ball and I turned my head from the heat of it. When I looked back, a man stood where the fire had been. Somehow, it was very disappointing. "That's it?"

The man cocked his head to the side and stared at me. "What were you expecting?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't think you'd just be a man."

His smile was quick, cutting into his features and causing dimples to appear in his cheeks. "How about this?"

The man rolled his shoulders and something thin and bright but paper-thin spread behind him. They raised high and I could see they were wings. He brought them down and the man rose from the ground until he bumped his head into the ceiling. When he'd settled back to the floor, I knew my jaw was hanging open. "Wh-What are you?"

The man smiled again and tipped his head to the side. "The wings didn't give you a clue?"

I shook my head to clear it, but it didn't help. "'Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings.'"

The man rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Hardly. Do you know that when that movie came out, every kid in America rang every bell they came across? Do you have any idea how loud that was?"

I snickered. "You said you didn't have a sense of humor."

He shrugged and walked towards me. "I don't. Not really. But I am an angel." As he approached me, he grinned and flashed me his dimples. "You should sit down. You look like you're about to faint."

That was probably the biggest understatement of the century. I sat and stared at the man, er angel, before me. He stood about even with my six-foot height. His face seemed to resemble a statue that one of the old masters would have created. Smooth, flawless, and very pale in color. I had seen one once in a museum. It was the kind of statue where the tracery veins in the arms and legs stood out, as if they actually pumped blood through them. Only once I touched it, it was cold and lifeless. My hand reached out to touch him before I caught myself.

The angel grinned at me and flashed me his dimples. "You can touch me if you wish."

I placed my hand against his arm. It was warm to the touch and full of life, unlike the statues of old. I traced a vein along his forearm while I stared at his face. Perfection. That's all I thought about his face. Carved from the purest marble and breathed to life. Dark, curly hair hung low on his forehead with high, arched brows that accentuated deep, dark, soulful eyes. Those eyes danced with humor and hidden deep inside, something indefinable exactly; but sad came closest to describing it. 

"Like a marble statue?"

I shook my head from my musings. "What?" He smiled at me again and stepped back out of my touch. For a split second, I felt bereft, as if I'd had something vital removed from me, but it quickly passed.




The Angel By My Side



"You were thinking how closely I resemble a statue."

I felt my eyebrows arch. "Are you reading my mind?"

He chuckled and paced around the room, tactilely touching a few things. "If I could read your mind, I'd know why you were… touching yourself."

I felt the blush creep up my cheeks as I stared at his back. His shirt had two slits over his shoulders, probably for the wings. "You were going to explain why you're here."

He bowed his head as he looked at a picture on my dresser. "Yes. I was." He turned to face me and opened his mouth to speak then stopped. He tried it again, but failed. "I think I'd better explain."

I nodded, waiting for something, anything. "Good. I'd like to know why an angel named…?"

He leaned back against the wall and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't have a name."

"Come on, don't all angels have names? There's Michael and Gabriel, to name two."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, a small smile played at his lips. "Those are two of millions. They are very special archangels. I'm in an entirely different class."

I sat there, staring, my mind reeling from all he was saying. "And your class is?"

He lifted one shoulder, as if he didn't quite know how to explain anything. "I'm an observer." He sat on a corner of the bed and smiled at me. "I'm also a messenger, from time to time."

I raised my eyebrows. Funny, I should have been freaked out at the mere thought that an angel was sitting on my bed, casually discussing the duties of his life, but frankly, I was too curious to be shaken. "An observer of what?"

His smile widened, bringing out his dimples again. "Everything; each word, each moment of life; each falling leaf, each trickle of water. Everything there is to witness on Earth."

I cocked my head to the side. "Like that Nicholas Cage movie?"

He smiled again. "Wings of Desire was better."

"Or course." I couldn't agree more. I love Nicholas Cage, but the original was so much darker, grittier, and touchingly poignant. "So you observe me?"

"I observe lots of people. And there are different kinds of observers."

Curiouser and curioser. "Like?"

He shrugged. "Some of us only observe people. Others watch the animals. There are dream watchers and nature watchers. Lots of us." He looked at me, directly in my eyes. "Sometimes, we are assigned a particular person or type of person."

I drew a deep breath. So now we were getting somewhere. "And who are you assigned to?" Then out of pure fiendish curiosity, I had to ask. "Anyone I might recognize?"

He shifted his seat and nodded his head. "Nathaniel Hale. Joan of Arc. Amongst others."

"Nathaniel Hale? As in 'I regret that I have but one life to give for my country'? That Nathaniel Hale?"

He nodded. Joan of Arc? A girl who died because they believed she was a witch and not working under the auspices of God. Nathaniel Hale, who died rather than betray his country, martyrs. I swallowed deeply as I stared at the angel before me. "You observe martyrs?"

"Yes."

He looked at me and I wanted to shy away from his penetrating gaze. What he suggested wasn't possible. "You're here to observe me because I'm…?"

He nodded once, just a dip of his chin. I felt goose bumps rise against my body, sending a deep shiver right through me. "When?"

"Soon."

I swallowed then began to tremble. "Why are you telling me this?"

He smiled again. "You're the only one who ever heard me."

I stood and paced around the room. He sat and watched as the minutes ticked by. My mind was a jumble of mixed thoughts and emotions, none of which coalesced into anything cohesive. "I'm going to die."

"Yes."

"I need a drink." I left the bedroom and walked downstairs. The angel followed me. I grabbed a glass from the cabinet and took the bottle of scotch from the cupboard. I filled the glass nearly full and raised it to my lips. My hands shook horribly. Just before I took a drink, I paused and stared at the angel. "Care for one?"

He smiled serenely and shook his head. "It would do nothing for me."

I snorted and threw the drink back, letting the slow, smooth liquid burn down my throat, giving me something else to focus on. I poured a second glass and walked into the living room. The angel sat opposite me and watched as I slowly sipped my drink. After a few disconcerting moments, I looked at him. "How long do I have?"

He stared back at me and tilted his head. "I'm not sure. A few weeks."

"Do you know what will happen?"

"No."

How one word could seem so ominous, I would never know. But somehow, the fact that this supernatural being didn't know the future was oddly comforting. I snorted and laughed, even though I felt tears sting my eyes. I blinked them back, furious that I was crying again. "There's so much that I wanted to do."

The angel stood and I followed. The warm, slumberous affects of the alcohol made me slightly dizzy. "You should go to sleep."

I nodded as if it were the sagest advice I'd ever heard. He put his hand against my arm and I immediately felt calm descend upon me. For a moment, I heard something in my mind. Something serene, like the grandest music. The moment he removed his hand, the fleeting hint of whatever I heard left me and I felt cut off, as if I'd glimpsed the rarest of treasures and had them removed from my sight. I headed towards my bedroom and turned back to see the angel standing at the foot of the stairs. "Will you be here when I wake up?"

"If you wish it, yes." I thought for a moment and decided I would rather he be around. I nodded once. He smiled at me and I found myself smiling back. "Then I shall be here."

I turned and took two more steps when I stopped. "Do you sleep?"

"No."

"What will you do?"

His chuckle filled my ears and sent a shiver up my spine. "Observe."

I turned around to face him. "You're going to watch me sleep?"

He laughed outright. "No. I'll walk around the house and touch the things I've always seen."

It wasn't my idea of a fun night, but then again, I didn't know what angels did for fun anyway. As I crawled naked into bed, I briefly considered starting up again where I'd been interrupted. But a deep lethargy swamped me and I couldn't keep my eyes open. My dreams were filled with swirling images and deep emotions. When I awoke in the morning, tears were streaming down my face, yet I felt perfectly calm. Peaceful. Accepting.

I got out of bed and headed downstairs. I needed coffee and lots of it. As I stumbled into the kitchen and started making coffee, the angel came into the room. "Good morning."

I jumped and looked down when I remembered I didn't have a stitch of clothing on. For a split second, I thought about grabbing the dishtowel and covering myself with it. But when an angel has watched you jerk off, any sense of modesty seems to fly right out of you. "Hi."

He smiled as he leaned against the counter. "How did you sleep?"

As I poured a cup of steaming heaven, I shrugged my shoulders. "Fine. I guess."

He walked closer to me and stared into my eyes as I sipped my coffee. "You seem more relaxed." He continued to watch me as I drank my coffee then smiled. "Rafael sent one of his minions to you."

I blinked a few times in confusion. "Who is Rafael?"

"The archangel of healing."

I stopped drinking mid-sip. "I needed healing?" He nodded. "Why?"

"You said there were many things you wanted to do." He shrugged. "I thought you wouldn't get to do any of them if you were worried about the future and still grieving for your parents." He looked at me sharply. "Did I do something wrong?"

I thought about it as I finished off my coffee. It was true. I still missed my parents, but I seemed to be okay about it. And I no longer trembled at the thought of my upcoming demise. I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't think so. Did you do this for any of the other people you observe?"

"No. They never knew I was there."

I set my coffee cup down and stared at the floor. I felt uncomfortable. "I'm going to go take a shower." I stood and looked over at the angel. I didn't know his name. I mentally slapped my forehead. He doesn't have a name. "We need to figure something to call you."

"I guess 'hey, you' isn't really appropriate."

I chuckled. "Are you sure you don't have a sense of humor?"

He smiled at me. "Perhaps just a little one."

"Well think of a name and I'll be back in a few minutes."

He stopped me by stepping forward. "You're going to take a shower?"

I caught a hint of wistfulness in his voice. I shrugged. "Never taken a shower before?" He shook his head. "Well, come on then; might as well try it out."

We climbed the stairs to the bathroom. I turned on the water and turned to the angel. "You need to take off your clothes." He reached to his chest and began unbuttoning his shirt; fumbling with the buttons. I cocked my head and grinned at him. "Never taken off the clothes before?"

"No. We just sort of think about it and they come off."

I paused from my unbuttoning of his shirt. "Why aren't you doing that now?"

"I can't. Not while on Earth."

I shrugged and continued to unbutton his shirt. When it was done, I pulled it off his shoulders and down his arms. The man had a perfect, flawless body. Smooth, pale skin covered tight muscles with bluish veins running under the surface. As the shirt hit the floor, I noticed two things. He had no nipples, and he didn't have a belly button. I looked down at my own nipples then stared at his chest. He chuckled.

"No, I don't have nipples, and since I wasn't born, no navel."

I reached for his trousers and paused. He started laughing. "Yes. I have a penis."

I started to laugh and then stopped when his pants opened and dropped to his feet. Again, he looked like a perfectly carved statue, muscular; trim, without fat, and the palest, purest, smoothest skin I'd ever seen. There was no body hair at all. Except for his eyebrows, eyelashes, and scalp, he was hairless. I stared from his feet to his waist then gulped. He was a lot bigger than Jim Shipman, perfectly formed and thick. I stared into his eyes and felt the blush cross my face. Then I looked down at my own equipment and compared. I shrugged as it stood at attention and realized it was nowhere close to the angel's league. Oh well. He was an angel. I grabbed his hand and crawled into the shower and tried to ignore the sudden attraction and arousal that coursed through me, speeding my pulse.

I positioned him under the spray, facing towards me. When the warm water hit his back, he started to laugh. "That tickles."

"Back up a bit." Once the water no longer hit his shoulders, he stopped laughing. "What do you think?"

"It's warm and wet."

I started to laugh. "That's why they call it a shower."

"Good point."

I grabbed the soap and started lathering it with my hands. The angel leaned forward and sniffed at my fingers. "That smells good."

I handed the soap to him. "Do the same." I watched as he lathered the soap in his hands. Then I took it from him and spread my hands wide and wiggled my fingers. He did the same. I started washing myself, under my arms, over my chest, my arms and belly. He followed me. I raised my leg and washed along its length then did the same to the other. The angel did it too, almost tipping over because he hadn't shifted his weight. I gave my crotch a quick once over then reached for my back. When I was done, I pushed the angel under the spray and waited for the soap to be rinsed away. "Trade places with me."

I stood under the spray and rinsed off. I shut the water off and opened the shower curtain and grabbed a couple of towels. I dried myself off and watched as he did the same. I wrapped the towel around myself and walked into my room. He followed. I took out a pair of briefs and stepped into them. I tossed him a pair. "These should fit you."

He pulled them on and winced as he got them up to his waist. I started to laugh as I shoved my hands into my underwear and adjusted everything. He did the same and smiled when everything was in a comfortable place. I went to the closet and grabbed two pairs of jeans and a couple of shirts.

Once we were both dressed, I went back downstairs into the living room. I sat on the couch and the angel sat by me. "Have you thought of any names?"

"I don't really want any of the names of the people I observed."

I laughed. "You don't look like a Joan."

He rolled his eyes and grinned. "No. I don't. Pick a name. It doesn't matter what you call me."

I shook my head. "Yes it does. Your name is part of you." I looked across the room to the framed picture of my parents. "Someone names you, putting all their hopes and dreams into that name."

He sat back and looked at me, a small smile played at his lips. "I didn't know why a name was so important. I thought it was just a form of recognition."

"It's that too. But… so much more. When someone who knows and loves you says your name, you feel… connected." I tried to form into words how it felt whenever my mother said my name. "My mother could cut me to shreds by saying my name disapprovingly. But she could make it all better whenever she'd tell me she loved me."

"I see." Yet I felt he really couldn't comprehend what I was saying. "I still think you should pick a name for me."

"Fine. I'll think about it." I stood and stretched. "I need to clean up the kitchen a bit." I walked across the living room and stopped. "Should I be prepared? Should I see about putting everything in order?"

He got a faraway look in his eyes and cocked his head. Then he shook his head and smiled at me. "No. If you have everything in order, someone might think you knew what was happening."

I nodded then headed back into the kitchen. The angel followed close on my heals and watched as I gathered dishes and canning jars, things I would never need and put them into boxes. Once I'd filled four boxes, I took a Sharpie pen and started marking the boxes. The angel followed what I did. I glanced up at him as he traced what I'd written on a previous box. "Something intriguing?"

He glanced up and dropped his hand as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't. "What does it say?"

I stood and glanced at him. "You observe human beings and don't understand the written word?"

He shook his head and smiled. "I can speak every known and long forgotten language, but we do not read the written word. It is forbidden."

"Why?"

"I do not know. It has always been so."

I shrugged my shoulders and pointed to the boxes. "That one is full of china and marked as such. This one I just finished is nothing but old canning jars, so I wrote Mason jars on it."

"Mason?"

"It's just a brand name. For canning and preserving food?"

He looked perplexed as he pulled one of the jars out of the box. "Why?"

"It preserves food and stores jam and jellies."

"Why?"

What was he, a three year old? "Fruits and vegetables were only available at certain times of the year. The jars kept them so they could be eaten year round."

He nodded his head and put the jar back. "I like it."

I blinked three times in confusion. "What?"

"The name."

Okay. "Jar?"

He laughed and turned to me, smiling. "No. Mason."

"Mason." It did roll off the tongue. It was nice actually. "I like it too."

"Good."

We just stood and stared at each other. When things became awkward, I cleared my throat. "I need to take a load of things to the Goodwill. Care to join me?"

"Sure."

I picked up a couple of boxes and headed towards the door. "Wait. Can other people see you?"

Mason laughed and nodded. "As long as I'm with you, anyone can see me."

We loaded boxes and bags into the truck before we crawled inside and I started down the road. Mason kept staring around him, watching the scenery pass by. "Why can people see you now and not before?"

He turned from the scenery and smiled at me. "I became visible because you asked me to. If I go too far away from you, I'll fade out again."

"So you need to stay close by?"

"Yes."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "How close?"

Mason started laughing. "You'll have privacy. You slept alone last night. I'd say as long as I'm in the same building, we'll be fine."

We dropped off seven boxes and nine bags of clothing at the Goodwill before we headed home. I made it about three miles when I turned to Mason. "I'm hungry. Do you mind if we stop?"

"Not at all."

"You don't eat?"

Mason looked around as we pulled in to the local McDonald's. "I don't have to. But I can if I want."

We stood and stared at the menu for several minutes. Thankfully, there were pictures to go along with the words. "Any ideas?"

He shook his head as he looked at the menu. "I haven't got a clue."

"Why don't I order a bit of a variety, and you can try it all?"

He looked at me and smiled. Something shifted inside my chest, making me feel flustered. "I think that is a good idea."

After I got our order, grabbed some ketchup, napkins, and straws, I sat down across from Mason and offered him a fry. "Try this."

He took the fry from me and stared at it as he rolled it in his fingers. He brought it to his mouth and licked against it before taking a tentative bite. He chewed on it for a moment as if he wasn't sure. Then he swallowed. He grinned at me and grabbed another. Then another. Then another.

Before I knew it, all the fries were gone. I unwrapped one of the cheeseburgers and handed it to him. "Try this."

Mason practically inhaled it. I took a straw and put it in one of the soft drinks. Mason took it and looked at the straw. I showed him how to use it with my own drink. "Like this."

As I watched him take a drink, moving his lips against the straw, my mind turned to rather filthy thoughts. I looked away before the blush became obvious. I needed to stop doing this. I shook my head and grabbed my own burger and bit into it. After I'd swallowed, I turned back to Mason who looked longingly at my burger. I'd lost my appetite. "Here. Have at it."

"Thanks."

I watched as he ate my hamburger, two apple pies, and drank all of his soda. When he was all done, he leaned back in his chair and smiled. "I take it you enjoyed that?"

"I did. I've never had food before."

I blinked and sat forward. "Never?"

"No." Then Mason sat forward and opened his mouth to say something. A belch, louder and longer than I'd ever heard before, left his lips. He sat back and looked around. "What was that?"

I started laughing. I couldn't stop until tears rolled down my face. I took a napkin and started wiping my face. "That was a belch."

"Belch?"

I wadded up the napkin and grinned. "You ate too fast and swallowed air with the food. That and the soda, well, your belly had to get rid of the gas."

He sat back and looked down at his stomach. He poked it with a finger then took a drink of soda. He looked at me and smiled, then belched again. "That's fun."

I glanced at a table near us and saw the disapproving look from the woman sitting there. "And rude. Let's go."

In the truck, Mason sat sideways so he could watch me. "Did I do something wrong?"

I glanced at him before turning back to traffic. "Not at all. Why?"

"You sounded upset when you told me I was being rude."

I pulled over to the side of the road and turned to Mason. "No. I wasn't upset. I thought it was funny. Until I saw the woman at the other table looking all peeved."

"Why would you care what someone else thinks?"

"I don't." Then I shook my head. "Not normally I don't. But it isn't polite to belch loudly in public."

Mason nodded then looked at me. "So, the children who were running around and screaming weren't rude?"

"They were, yes."

"Why didn't they get in trouble and have to leave?"

I sighed. "Some people don't care."

Mason put his hand on my arm. "And you do?"

I looked at him and smiled, though it was wobbly. "I care very much."




The Angel By My Side



"About what?"

I shrugged my shoulders and stared out the windshield. We were near a park. I looked over at Mason and smiled. "Care to go for a walk?"

"Sure."

We walked around the small lake in the park and settled under a tree. I lay on my back in the grass and motioned for Mason to join me. When he lay back on the grass he started to giggle. I turned to my side to face him. "What's funny?"

"The grass tickles my wings."

"So that's why you laughed in the shower?"

He nodded. "Tell me what you care about."

I shrugged as my fingers traced through the grass and I plucked a few blades out. "People. Feelings. Things." I felt my cheeks heat with a blush and turned away.

Mason turned to his side and ran his hand over the grass. "You care a lot for many things."

"How would you know?"

"I've watched you from the day you were born." He smiled and looked out over the water of the lake. "Would you like me to tell you what I know?"

The word barely came out as a whisper. "Yes."

He turned back to me and smiled. "You found a small, wounded bird when you were four. Do you remember?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"You ran and got your mother, and even though she knew nothing could be done, she helped you pick it up and try to help it." He looked back at me. "What happened to the bird?"

"It died."

He nodded. He watched the people walking around the bike path along the lake for a few moments. "How about the time your friend Alex wanted to know why you were staying in town after you graduated from high school, even though you'd been invited to Florida?"

I shut my eyes and turned away. "That isn't important."

"I think it is." He reached out and touched my arm, sending shivers up my spine. "What did you tell him?"

I shook my head. "No. It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does."

I sighed and opened my eyes, looking at the sun filtered through the leaves in the tree above us. "Mom and Dad needed me. I couldn't go, because they needed me to take care of them."

"What did he say?"

"Your folks are selfish. Live a little, Michael."

"What did you do?"

I shrugged. "I punched him in the face."

"What did you do when you got home?"

I felt the tears form. I shut my eyes and willed it all away. "I went home and hugged my parents."

"And when you were alone?"

"Stop!"

"No." I opened my eyes to see him leaning over me. "What did you do when you were alone?"

"I cried."

"Why?"

I brushed a tear off my cheek. "Because I knew I was going to be alone."

"You weren't angry with your parents?"

I looked at Mason and frowned. "No. Of course not." I propped my elbow under me and turned to face him. "Why would you think that?"

He smiled. "It proves how much you care." He turned and looked out at the lake. He pointed out random people. "That person might have gone anyway." He pointed at another. "That one would have stayed, but been bitter and angry." He turned back to me. "Lots of people would have stayed, but few would have done so without anger or regret." 

I swallowed the lump in my throat and shut my eyes to the tears that threatened to spill over. "You understood how much your parents needed you and gave up all your dreams for them." I blinked away the tears and looked back at him. "You have a caring heart, and others often don't see it."

I stared at Mason in silence as he watched a dog play with its master, fetching a stick. I brushed the tears from my face and stood. "We should go." Mason turned back to me and followed. We got in the truck and drove quietly home.

After being home for a few minutes, I felt restless. I couldn't sit for more than a few seconds. I stood and looked at Mason. "I need another shower."

I left him behind and stood under the spray. I braced my hands against the wall of the shower and banged my head into the wall. Why did it hurt so much? Hearing Mason describe my life made the pain come to the surface. I let the tears flow freely. It seemed so unfair, that Mason could see me, the real me, where no one else had seen or bothered to see. I stayed under the spray until the tears ran their course.

I stayed in my room, contemplating everything and nothing for several hours. I looked at the walls; I stared at the slightly swaying curtains. I watched the shadows stretch and bend along the floor. No answers found me. No comfort. No clue. After a long time, I looked at my watch and made up my mind. I threw on some jeans, a tee, a button down shirt I left open, and my boots. I grabbed my car keys and headed downstairs. I found Mason staring at the television, as if in a trance.

"Found something interesting?"

He jumped and turned, giving me a small smile. "Is Homer really this stupid?"

I snickered. "Homer is a cartoon. It isn't real."

He turned back and looked at the television. "He's funny though."

"Yes. He is." I watched with him for a few minutes, steeling my nerve. "I'm heading out."

Mason stood and looked at me. "Where are you going?"

"I was invited to join some coworkers for a beer." Now that I'd said it out loud, I felt the butterflies flutter in my stomach. I'd never done it before. What would I face? "Are you coming?"

"I didn't know if you'd want me there."

"You'd fade out if you weren't there." I grabbed a jacket and tossed it at Mason. "Let's go."

I drove down the highway, the radio turned on loudly, so there would be no conversation. I followed the path I'd followed many times, but this time, I wouldn't drive by, I'd force myself to go inside, to confront my own fears and shyness. When we got there, I pulled into a parking spot, and not wanting Mason to see my fear, I hopped out and marched inside, with Mason trailing behind me.

Once the door opened, I was slapped in the face with a wall of cigarette smoke. Somewhere beyond the curtain of smoke, someone was skinning a cat, gutting a sheep, and murdering Helen Keller, otherwise known as karaoke. I wended my way through the tables, searching for a familiar face. I found Jim Shipman, like a King holding court, at a group of ten tables. He spotted me and called me over.

I walked up to Jim and shook his hand. He pulled me down and gave me a brisk, manly hug that consisted of a hard pat on the back. I introduced Mason around as a friend from college, and got us a couple of beers. I sat back in a chair and overheard some of the conversations. Talk about nailing chicks, talk about work, horror stories on the oil refinery platform, and so on. I watched over the lip of my glass as Mason tried the yeasty brew, sipping tentatively.

I leaned in and spoke in his ear. "Not like the soda, huh?"

He looked over at me and smiled. "No. But it's not bad."

I grinned before taking another long drink. I can't say I was overly comfortable in the group. I didn't have much to say. I spoke when spoken too, laughed with everyone else, but still felt like an outsider, someone looking in the window, nose pressed to the glass, wanting what was inside, but unable to find the door.

After a bit of time, Jim got up and headed for the bathroom and the bartender came calling out for new singers. I had to go, and left Mason behind. I walked down the dim hall to the restroom, opened the door, and stopped dead. Jim was leaning against the sink, his jeans around his ankles as another of the crew was on his knees, sucking Jim like mad.

Jim's eyes met mine and he smirked before taking Bill's head in his hands and began ramming his cock fast and hard into his mouth. "Suck it, Bill. Just like that."

I couldn't move. My cock hardened painfully behind my zipper. I could only stand and stare, my mouth open, panting. I saw as Jim's face tightened, his lips compressed against his teeth as he thrust one last time, hard, and shuddered. "Oh yeah! Fuck yeah."

Bill pulled away and stood, spitting into the sink. "God damn it, Jim. I hate it when you cum in my mouth."

I swallowed as Jim shot me a grin and pulled up his pants. "Stop your whining, Bill. You love it."

Bill rinsed his mouth out and turned, seeing me for the first time. His eyes went wide then he frowned. He came up to me and grabbed me by the shirt. "You saw nothing. Got it?"

I nodded dumbly as Bill walked out of the bathroom. I tried to straighten my shirt and realized my hands shook. Jim walked up to me and took my chin in his hands. He stared me in the eyes before he covered my mouth with his. His kiss was hard, almost punishing, as he shoved his tongue into my mouth and tasted everything. I gripped his arms with my hands, and pulled away, gasping for breath. As first kisses went, I was expecting a bit more. Not quite sure what, but more than what I got. Jim stared into my eyes and smiled. "Liked what you saw?"

I nodded mutely and tried to smile. "Yeah. I did."

Jim turned away and headed towards the door. "Wanna blow this place? We could head over to your house."

I had to swallow three times before I could speak. "I'll let you know. I have to talk with my friend."

Jim nodded and adjusted himself in his jeans. "Don't think too long."

I nodded as he left and went to the sink. My cheeks were flushed as I splashed water on them. I couldn't believe what had just happened. My every waking fantasy just hit on me. I grinned and took care of business before I headed out into the club again. When I rounded the corner, the only noise in the place was of someone singing. I looked out over the crowd and saw that every person was almost entranced. I looked on stage and saw Mason with a microphone in his hand, singing "Earth Angel." It would have been funny, if he didn't sing so beautifully. His voice was clear and resonant, carrying out across the room, compelling everyone who heard to strain harder for every last note.

When the song ended, everyone sat, as if waiting for more. Mason left the stage and walked towards me, his cheeks flushed and a big smile lit his face. When he got to me, the crowd erupted into applause. He ducked his head and I grabbed his arm and took him outside. Once out in the cool, clear air, I took him towards the truck. "What happened in there?"

He ducked his head. "They asked me to sing."

"Did you enchant them?"

He started to laugh, but didn't look comfortable. "Ever heard of 'choir of angels'? Guess where the term comes from."

I groaned. "Oh man. How bad is this?"

He shook his head. "Not at all. They'll just think I'm some unknown talent."

I nodded. "Good."

I saw Jim step out of the door into the parking lot. I looked at Mason and fidgeted. "Um… Mason?"

Mason looked over at Jim, then back at me. "Yes, Michael?"

"Jim wants to come home with me… and…" I was at a loss for words. He didn't understand what jerking off was. How would I explain sex? "Well… he wants—"

"He wants to have sex with you."

I stared in astonishment at Mason. "How did you know?"

He looked towards Jim, but not at him. "He has an angel watching him, too."

"He's a martyr?"

He shook his head sadly. "No. Angels watch every human." He turned and his eyes bored into me, as if looking right through me to my very soul. "Jim Shipman's angel watches over philanderers, adulterers, and the lecherous."

I swallowed and looked over my shoulder as Jim said his goodbyes to some friends. He turned and winked at me. I turned back to Mason as he continued to talk. "He is married and has four children with his wife." He looked to Jim. "There are six other children he is father to. He knows of two of them." He looked back at me. "If you go home with him, he will come to your house every Thursday night, when he tells his wife he's out bowling with friends from work."

I shook my head. "Don't tell me this."

Mason grabbed my arm. "I'm telling you this because you aren't the first. You won't be the last." When I opened my eyes to stare into Mason's, his voice gentled. "Do you want your first time to be with someone who cares nothing for you? Who will use you for his own pleasure and then leave you unfulfilled?"

I put my hands over my ears. I shook my head. Then I got pissed. I pushed Mason's hand off my arm. "What does it matter? I'll be dead in a few days anyway."

Mason took my face in his hands and stared at me. I heard the faint music again, like the other time he touched me with both hands. "I know you. You'll regret it." His voice grew faint and I swore I saw tears in his eyes. "Until the second you die, you'll regret it."

I stared into Mason's dark, soulful eyes and lost myself to thoughts. Thoughts of regret. Thoughts of loneliness. But nothing could make the truth of his words dim. When I felt Jim's hand on my shoulder, I turned to face him.

"So, Michael., follow you home?"

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, Jim. But no."

He looked between Mason and me. "Hey, your friend, if he wants to join us, I'm okay with that." He grinned endearingly. But now I saw it for what it was; an artful glance to entice. His luster had faded in my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Jim."

Jim shrugged. "Hey, no skin off my nose. Catch you around."

He walked off and called out to Bill, meeting up with him. I watched as Jim hopped in Bill's truck and they left the parking lot. I shook my head and turned back to Mason. "Get in. Let's go home."

We drove home in silence, not saying anything, both of us lost in thoughts. When we got back to the house, Mason got out of the truck and I shut off the engine. When the light turned on when I opened the door, I noticed something white and shining on the passenger seat. I picked it up. It was a feather. I tucked it into my breast pocket and went inside. I didn't say anything as I went upstairs and crawled alone into bed.

During the long, sleepless night, I came to several depressing conclusions. Some things I would die never knowing, always wondering about. As the dawn began to bleed out the darkness of night, I decided not to let every dream die with me. There were still some things I could do. I got up and went down to make some coffee. I found a pot already made and found Mason sitting on the sofa, watching early morning religious programming. I stood and sipped my coffee as I watched him. He seemed less alert, slightly drooped. I'd never seen him at anything less than perky before. After a few minutes I cleared my throat. Mason turned and smiled.

"You told me you didn't know when I'd die. But can you tell me if I at least have a week?"

Mason cocked his head to the side and stared off into space. He nodded. "Yes. You should have at least that long. Why?"

I smiled as I set my coffee down and sat on the coffee table to face him. "I have some vacation time coming to me. There are some things I'd like to do."

Mason sat up and smiled. "Like what?"

I grinned and picked up the phone and called my boss. Even though it was Sunday, I got him and explained that I wanted to take advantage of his offer for time off. Once it was settled that I'd have the next week off, I put the phone down and smiled at Mason. "We're going on a road trip."

My father had purchased a car long before I was born that sat in our garage, hardly used. It was a 1955 Ford Galaxy, convertible, powder blue, with all original interior and parts. In fifty years, the car had only amassed thirty thousand miles. It was a gas hog, but roomy and comfortable. Mason and I set out early that morning and headed east.

By unspoken agreement, neither of us mentioned the events of the previous evening. By ten, we were both loosened up, and talking freely. We stopped for a breakfast of biscuits and gravy, fried eggs, bacon, and cheese grits. Mason ate all of his and nearly a third of mine. When we got out of the roadside diner, I peeled the top back on the car and we headed out again.

Even though we didn't talk, there was no awkwardness in the silence of the passing wind in our hair, the slow, mellow music on the radio, and the occasional pointing out of sights along the Gulf Coast. By four, we'd arrived on the outskirts of New Orleans. Although I'd lived within hours all my life, I'd only been there once before.

I got us lost only once as I found my way into the Quarter. After searching around, I found a little Bed & Breakfast on Chartres. When we climbed up the stairs to our second floor room, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, taking the last of my worry and, though I was sad to admit it, regret over last night.

The room overlooked a courtyard garden with a fountain, a few tables from the restaurant behind the hotel, an intimately lit bar, and a place for dancing. Out the balcony doors there was a view of the bustling streets of New Orleans. But the courtyard behind the hotel was what drew me over and over. The quiet intimacy, the hush that just a few feet offered over the rowdy noisiness outside lulled me, calmed me.

We had arrived in the late afternoon, before it was fashionable to have dinner. Mason and I left the hotel and walked along the streets, looking in windows and observing the people we saw. We passed a clothing store and looking down at the mostly jeans and tees that we wore, and since I knew it was all we had back at the hotel, I motioned for Mason to follow me inside.

"We need something a bit dressier for dinner tonight."

He cocked his head to the side and smiled. "Okay. But why?"

I smiled, but I figured it looked sad, because Mason put his hand on my arm. "That list of regrets?" He nodded. "I'm trying to mark a few of them off."

His smile was slow as it slid across his face, bringing his dimples out. "And this would be?"

I shrugged, feeling embarrassed. "I want to have a nice dinner out, dress nicely, have some wine." I shrugged again and turned back to the store. "Nothing too special, just out."

"Let's get some clothes then."

A rather nice woman helped us, fitting us with jackets, shirts, pants, and all the other trappings of a nice, but not too formal outfit. We left shortly after the fittings, with a promise that all would be ready the next evening. Mason and I walked back to our little hotel and went around the corner to the restaurant that we could see from our hotel room. We sat down and I stared at the courtyard around us, lit with candles on the tables and Chinese lanterns hanging within the star jasmine and other vines along the walls.

A slow, steady jazz came from the band playing along one wall of the courtyard. I looked over the menu as Mason read his. I chose to have jumbo prawn étoufée. Mason couldn't make up his mind.

"What looks good?"

"I can't read, remember."

I ducked my head and grinned. "I'm sorry. I forgot."

I read off some menu items until Mason picked the jambalaya. We decided to have a crawfish and sausage pie for an appetizer. I sat back and listened to the music once our drinks were delivered. Mason took a sip of his iced tea as I watched couples dance on the small floor.

"Is dancing difficult?"

His words snapped me out of my rambling musings and I turned to him. "I don't know. I've never really danced before."

Mason nodded and smiled at me. "Your parents used to dance. You'd sneak downstairs to watch them."

The memories made me smile, no longer saddened by their loss. "You're right. I did." I took a sip from my drink and looked at Mason. "There was so much love in their eyes."

Mason nodded. "Yes. There was."

We ate dinner leisurely, enjoying the spicy food, good ambience, and bluesy music for over an hour. Once done, I paid the bill and we left. When we got back to our hotel room, I went into the bathroom and showered. I came out wearing a pair of boxers. Mason sat in a chair, watching the television. I sat on the dresser, by the window, and listened to the music playing in the courtyard below.

"I'm going to take a shower, too."

Mason's words shook me out of my trance and I smiled at him. I turned back to the music once he had shut the bathroom door. I watched as the candlelight flickered along the vine and flower covered walls below, illuminating the architectural nooks and crannies, adding a surreal atmosphere to the quaint courtyard. I heard the shower stop, but didn't turn around until the door opened.




The Angel By My Side



Mason stood in the doorway, steam escaping around him in swirling patterns, wearing nothing but a pair of briefs. I swallowed as I thickened in my boxers. I shook my head and looked back out the window, cursing myself for my reaction. Not only was Mason not someone I should be attracted to, he wasn't even technically human. I kept my eyes shut, listening to the music, but I could hear Mason step closer to me. When the band changed tempo, and relinquished jazz for slow music, I knew I was lost. Sexy as hell or not, I had another item to cross off my regret list. I didn't even look at him as I spoke.

"Will you dance with me?"

Mason's hand rested against my shoulder. "I didn't think you knew how."

"I don't." I turned to look in his eyes. "But I'd like to find out."

He smiled at me and nodded. "I'll stumble along with you."

I grinned as I stood. I put my arms around him, one at his waist, and the other across his shoulder blades. He mimicked my actions so we stood in a near embrace, our chests brushing against each other as we stumbled along, in a simple foot shuffle, back and forth.

I shut my eyes, so I could block out the reality, and imagine that all this was real, that who I held in my arms was a part of me, someone I could hold and cherish. My forehead lowered to Mason's as my breath became thick and heavy in my lungs, my throat tight with emotion. I rocked my head against his as I lost the battle with my penis and it rose to full attention and pressed into Mason's stomach. I ran my hand up and down his back, my thumb catching the groove where his wings came out. After the fourth brush of my fingers, Mason shuddered and held me tighter. I pulled back to look in his eyes and lost the last battle.

I lowered my mouth towards his, my lips partly open. So near, so close. When my lips hovered over his, I glanced at his eyes and saw surprise, his breath brushing against my mouth. I swallowed and buried my face in the hollow of his neck and breathed in the scent of soap. My body trembled as I stopped dancing. "I'm sorry."

I pulled away and sat down on the bed, refusing to look at Mason. He came to stand beside me but I turned away. I stood and turned off the lights and crawled into bed. I rolled over and tried to shut everything out, but it was impossible. My erection refused to subside and my own thoughts were beating me senseless.

After several long minutes, I reached out and flicked on the bedside lamp. Mason turned from where he stood, from where I'd left him, confusion etching his features. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have."

Mason shook his head and sat on the edge of the bed. "It's okay." He looked down to the floor and I saw two more feathers lying on the old rug. I got out of bed and picked them up, turning to him.

"Are you molting?"

Mason looked at me and then the feathers, a slight look of panic in his eyes. "No."

I held them in front of his face. "What does this mean?"

He looked in my eyes and swallowed. "I don't know."

I nodded and set the feathers by the bed. "I should probably sleep."

Mason stood and looked around the room. "I won't keep you."

I shut my eyes, hating how needy I was going to sound. "If I promise I won't kiss you, will you let me hold you while I sleep?"

When I didn't hear a response, I opened my eyes. Mason had a slight smile on his face. "If you want, yes."

I nodded and crawled into bed. Mason followed me under the covers. I didn't want to spoon behind him, I wanted his face to be buried against my shoulders, my legs entwined with his. After maneuvering our bodies, we got into the right position and I held him in my arms, careful to keep away from his shoulders. Mason's hand came up and brushed along the hair on my chest. I wasn't a bear, but I wasn't hairless either. His simple ministrations caused my calmed erection to stand back at attention. "Does it tickle?"

Mason pulled back so he could smile at me. "No. I just never felt it before." I chuckled and pulled his head to rest beneath my chin. Before I knew it, I was asleep.

I awoke alone, searching blindly with my arms for the warm body I'd grown used to having next to me in the night. My eyes still shut; I moved my foot and hand and found nothing. Sitting up, I opened my eyes and looked around. I found Mason, dressed, sitting in the chair on the balcony, staring at me.

I yawned loudly and stretched. "Good morning."

"Morning."

The brevity of Mason's reply caused me to shake off the rest of the sleep to stare at him. As I watched, a lone feather fell and drifted to the balcony floor. He had tears in his eyes. "What's going on? Why are you crying?"

"I don't know." His words were muffled, choked off. I watched a single tear fall against his cheek, unheeded. "I'm not sure what's happening."

I got out of bed and walked to him. I saw him slightly flinch as another feather drifted away from him. "Are you in pain?"

"No."

I knelt by his side and cupped his cheek. He pressed into my hand and I had to swallow. "Do you have an idea of what's happening?"

"Yes."

I sat back on my heels and waited. When he didn't speak, I took his hand in mine. "What?"

He looked anywhere but into my eyes. "Thousands of years ago, we could walk freely amongst you. We went unheeded mostly, but for a few of us, we could be seen by a human." He looked in my eyes. "You've heard of the fallen?" 

I nodded. "Yes. Those angels who fell in love, either with a human, or the life that humanity could offer."

He smiled around his tears. "Yes. That's mostly true. Not all of us had direct contact. After a few centuries, it became obvious that it was living amongst humans that caused us to change, become corrupted." He swallowed. "It was decreed that no angel could walk amongst humankind any longer, because we are corrupted by humanity. We begin to... feel."

His words horrified me. "You need to leave then. You shouldn't stay with me." I stood and paced. "Thank you for helping me, but, you need to go."

Mason cleared his throat and looked at me. "I can't. I already tried."

I knelt by his side and took his hand in mine. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I never meant--"

He put his hand over my mouth and shook his head. "You've done nothing wrong." He gave me a small smile, lopsided, that brought out his right dimple. "You are a good man. I could have sat next to the pope and still been corrupted. It isn't the person, it's his life force; his essence. That which all men have."

"What can we do?"

He looked away. "I don't know. I can't hear Him anymore."

"I don't understand."

He cupped my face with his hand. "Do you know what Hell is?"

"Fire and brimstone."

He shook his head and laughed. "No. It's the utter absence of the presence of God." He stood and leaned against the balcony. Unmindful of my own undressed state, I joined him. "When you die, your soul leaves your body and is called home to the presence of God. For the sinners and other evil, they are trapped inside their bodies and placed into the ground, to be cut off from His presence."

"Have you sinned so badly?"

He turned and gave me a watery smile. "Technically, no."

"Technically?"

He shut his eyes. "I haven't sinned in action, just in thought."

I smiled and cupped his face. "Most people don't think that's a sin."

"It isn't really. But… thought leads to temptation… temptation leads to action."

I nodded. "Okay. So… you won't act on it." I turned and headed back inside, trying to act braver than I actually felt. "What do we do now?"

He came back from the balcony and stood in the door. "What is next on your list?"

I smiled and went to the dresser to grab some clothes. "A walk along the streets, some coffee and beignets, and we'll pick up our clothes and go out to dinner."

Mason nodded and looked towards the bathroom, kind of longingly. I stepped up to him and blocked his vision. He stared at my chest, and I watched him swallow. I snapped my fingers in front of his face and he looked at me. "Want to join me?"

He nodded and I took his hand, pulling him towards the bathroom. I dropped my boxers on the bathroom floor and helped pull Mason's jeans and shirt from him. As I grabbed an extra towel from the basket by the sink, my nose brushed through the hair above Mason's ear. It still smelled like shampoo from last night's shower. Lacking body oils and bacteria, he didn't sweat and his hair didn't become greasy. I think the shower was more of a comfort.

I turned on the water and adjusted the spray before we both got into the large bathtub and I pulled the curtain closed. I looked into Mason's eyes and smiled. He smiled back then grabbed the soap. He rubbed it between his hands until he built up a lot of lather. I reached for the soap, but he set it down. I watched as his hands reached out, almost fearfully, to be placed against my chest. I shut my eyes at the contact, the innocent, curious look in his eyes more than I could face. But keeping my eyes shut didn't help, it made the sensation of his fingers, gliding over my belly, caressing my chest, brushing my nipples, too strong, too much. My eyes flew open to see Mason staring, concentrating on his hands against my body.

Unheeded, my body stirred, thickening, lengthening, straining until the tip brushed against Mason's belly. Instead of feeling ashamed or embarrassed, I felt tingly, warm, happy. In the back of my mind, I knew that he wasn't appropriate; that what I now knew I felt was wrong. But, it wasn't going to go away either. Instead of being shy, I lost my sense of fear, and simply enjoyed watching Mason explore my body and accepted that it felt good, and that it was okay to feel good.

Mason looked up into my eyes and smiled. "Turn around."

I turned and faced the wall, the spray cascading down my back. I felt Mason's hands move against my shoulders, tracing the planes of the bone, the curve and point, before he ran his fingers along my spine, eliciting tiny shivers throughout my body. Shutting my eyes against the pleasure, biting my lips to keep from moaning, I nearly collapsed against the floor when Mason ran his hand over my ass. His fingers explored me, testing me. I don't know whether he was fascinated because my body, unlike him, was flawed. Perhaps it was the contrast of smooth to rough. But his touch made me shudder.

I felt as his fingers ran along a scar across my hip, something I'd gotten when I fell off my bike when I was seven. The way he traced the faint line made me tremble, so much so that I had to brace my hands against the wall. I heard him shift before I felt his hands against my ankle, as he knelt behind me. He ran his hands up each of my legs, tracing his finger through the soapy, hairy path, finding each trail and whorl against my skin.

After he'd made me a quivering mass of turned on flesh, he stood and pressed me gently into the water, so that all the soap rinsed off. When I turned around to look at him, my erection brushed against his abdomen. I clamped my lips shut but couldn't contain the moan. I lowered my forehead to his and placed my hands on his shoulders. My whole body shook and shuddered as my hands tightened on his flesh.

"Did I do something wrong?"

I chuckled, but it came out harsh to my ears. "No. I'm just a little too aroused."

"Aroused?"

I bit back a groan. I honestly didn't think I could explain every nuance of sex to Mason at that moment. "Yeah. Aroused. Very much so."

I had my eyes shut, trying to will my body to calm. Mason's hand closed around my shaft and stroked once. I muffled a curse and jumped back. "Don't do that. Please don't."

Mason looked away. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

I tilted his face back to look at me. "In the best of ways."

He cocked his head to the side. "I don't understand."

I pulled him closer and wrapped my arms around him. "It's okay. Being this aroused and primed for sex, makes every touch almost agonizingly pleasurable."

I felt his nod against my neck. "I understand."

I laughed and pulled back to look at him. "Not even close." I stared at his lips for a long while. I wasn't sure when my feelings grew so out of control, or when I stopped being afraid, but at that moment, I had to kiss him.

I lowered to his lips and brushed mine against his, slowly, languidly, as if I had all the time in the world. Immediately, I was lost to the taste, the flavor, the sweet sensation. Shutting my eyes, I moaned as my tongue played with his lip, begging for entrance, blindly searching for I knew not what. Except for a rather bruising kiss just days before from Jim, I had never kissed anyone before. Yet even though I was untried, I somehow knew I was doing it right. As my lips brushed against Mason's, I felt his mouth open, in an almost comical way, like a large mouthed bass. I would have laughed, if it hadn't felt so good. His every move, his every gesture was innocent, wholly and completely, yet utterly sincere. I was lost to the headiness of it all.

Pressing my body against his, moving my hands to take him in my arms, I noticed several things at once. He was shorter than I, though more solidly built, sturdier, stockier. He also had the smoothest, softest skin. But unlike me, he wasn't rampantly aroused, hard as a rock. His body remained flaccid. Instantly, I pulled away and stared at his wide open eyes. Shame slammed into my gut as I turned away to shut off the water. "I'm sorry."

A gentle, tender caress of my shoulder was all the response I got, all that I'd allow him to give. Stepping out of the shower, I grabbed a towel, wrapped it around my waist, and walked into our shared room, and sat on the dresser, to watch the courtyard. I shut my eyes and tried to push it all away, the need, the want, the desire, the loneliness; because it was all going to be unrequited, again. 

I heard Mason moving behind me, gathering clothing. I squeezed my eyes tighter, trying to block out the images as I heard him. But it was no use. I could see him pulling on the briefs, the sound of cotton smoothing over his thighs, the snap of elastic as he adjusted himself inside. The cool cloth of the shirt as it went over his head and the sound of a zipper closing, I could see clearly in my mind. When he was done dressing, Mason came and stood beside me, placing his hand on my shoulder.

I opened my eyes and looked away. "When my parents died, I realized that I was alone in the world. There are hundreds of people around me, who know me, but no one that makes me their number one priority." I shrugged his hand off my shoulder and stood, walking towards the bureau and my clothes. "It aches in my gut, to see so many people so happy." I looked at Mason, and realized my eyes must be bleak indeed, for him to smile so sympathetically at me. "It's my own fault that I'm at this point, alone save you." I sat to put on my socks, and simply let them fall. "I've always been too shy to let anyone in, because I was too afraid of what would happen if they turned from me."

Mason came over to where I sat, staring at the floor, but seeing nothing. He picked up my socks and lifted my foot. As he put my sock on me, he looked into my eyes. "You feel too much. You have no shields on your emotions." He dropped my foot and picked up the other. "That is your strongest and weakest gift."

I stared at Mason, shaking my head, nearly smiling. "How is it you understand me so well?"

He chuckled as he sat back on his haunches. "I have witnessed every moment of every day of your life." His smile faded as he looked over my shoulder, off into space. "It takes you a long time to be comfortable with someone, to let them inside." His eyes met mine again. "But once they get inside you, they never go away. Once they are inside your heart, you never let them go, and you forgive everything." He stood and walked towards the door. "You are the rock everyone leans on, and they come in and out of your life, leaving you behind, wondering what you did to make them leave you."

Mason turned and looked right at me. "You've done nothing but be who you are. Of all the people I've observed, you will stay with me forever. You are a quietly noble person."

I turned away, uncomfortable with his scrutiny. "If I were so noble, I wouldn't have kissed you."

"It was an… interesting experience."

I stared back at Mason, smiling slightly. "After. Will I see you?"

Mason's face went blank; as if he became that statue I likened him to when I first saw him. "No."

"Why?"

He swallowed. "I could come see you, but you won't see me or recognize me."

"I'd know you anywhere."

He shook his head slowly and smiled. "No. You won't." He stood before me, placing his hand in my hair, sifting it through his fingers. "You are going to be called home to His presence. You won't even know I'm there."

I stared away, shutting my eyes against the sadness, the tears. When I could breathe near normal, when the vice on my heart had lessened a bit, I stood. "Come, let's get some breakfast and window shop."

After picking up our new clothing and dropping them off at the hotel, I left Mason at a corner cafe, eating beignets, which he'd gotten a huge craving for, as I browsed along Jackson Square. As I walked I passed St. Louis Cathedral. Without pausing to think, I pushed open the doors and stepped inside. The hushed, funereal atmosphere sobered me and made me want to whisper.

Neither of my parents had been catholic, and only in their declining years, had they at all turned towards God. But because of the horror-filled look from Mason that morning on the balcony, I found my own desire to speak with the Almighty. I picked a row and moved halfway down then knelt. I bowed my head and remembered the pained, panicked look of Mason's and found the words poring through my mind. Is he to be punished for caring for me? I didn't know. Please don't shut him out for my error.

I stared at the ceiling, unmindful of the tears I had running down my face. Please don't do this.

Why?

My breath caught in my chest. Another voice. I don't want him to be punished because of me.

Why?

What do you mean, why?

Why should you care?

I sat back and looked around me. Of course I care.

But why do you care?

I shook my head and stared at the altar at the front of the church. My feelings don't matter.

But they do.

Why?

You know.

I shut my eyes and tried to calm my breathing. I didn't want to go where the voice was leading me. I didn't want to face my feelings, as hopeless as they were. Please.

Please, what?

Please let him go home. Don't look him away, in the dark. Alone. Please?

Why?

No.

Why?

No!

Why?

I sobbed once. Because I love him.

Whatever presence had visited me, never answered me again. After an unknown time, I stood, wiped my cheeks of their tears, and left the church.

I found Mason sitting at the same little bistro table I'd left him at, working on his third plate of beignets. He looked up at me with a powdered sugar moustache and grinned. Now that I'd finally admitted my feelings, I couldn't help but smile back, and revel in my feelings. His innocence, his joy, his life force were so strong, so comforting, that yes, of course, I fell in love with him.

I sat across from Mason and snagged one of the last beignets, bit into it, and grinned as Mason shot me a hurt, lost puppy look. "We can get more."

Mason smiled and shook his head. "I've already had four plates."

I raised my eyebrows. "You enjoy life very much. Everything you do is like a child."

He arched his brows and cocked his head, very much like a curious puppy or inquisitive kid. I chuckled. "With joy and wonder. I think we should have called you Peter."

"Why?"

"Like Peter Pan, the boy who didn't want to grow up."

He sat back and chuckled. "And he could fly."




The Angel By My Side



"That too."

We sat, smiling slightly, licking powdered sugar from our fingers. When we were all done eating, we went back to the hotel. Once dressed in our finest, we set out, walking along the river, towards the restaurant. Neither of us really spoke, but stared at the river, walking along, perhaps watching the moon, or the clouds, or the sparkle of lights on the water. Contentment and peace are realized in such moments, when the world is calm and the mind is more than the machine that drives you. Without thought, I reached out and took Mason's hand and held it as we walked.

As we sat and ate our turtle soup, I came to another interesting revelation. My desire for a fine dinner with expensive food and wine really had nothing to do with the food or location, but the person who sat across from me. We could have been sitting around a campfire and my smile would have been the same. I was happy, and the company I shared my meal with, the light conversation, the easy camaraderie was all I had craved.

We went home the next morning, driving quietly with the top up, because the sky had decided to unleash a flood of water upon us. Even though we hardly spoke, I couldn't say that we were uncomfortable. In fact, I'd say we were very comfortable. Mason may not understand what I felt, or could not understand it, but he didn't discourage anything either. Which for the most part simply made me like having that feeling.

When we got home, I sat Mason on the couch and crouched before him. "I know I don't have too much time left. But before I go, I wanted to share with you what I liked most about life."

His smile was slow across his face, bringing out his dimples. "You don't have to."

"I want to, though. You've made me appreciate life so much." I cupped his face in my hand and brushed my thumb against his cheek. "Let me do this for you."

He placed his hand over mine against his cheek and nodded.

The next day, we went to the zoo. I walked around with Mason, showing him all my favorite animals, watching them sit and stare, sometimes yawn, but mostly just be. I pointed out the elephants bathing in their pool, the tigers lying on their hot rock, and the snakes, hidden behind thick glass. When we went into the petting zoo, I think I fell in love all over again, as five small lambs clambered around Mason as he sat on the ground and petted them. I knelt down by his side and stroked the downy fur of a rabbit as he held one of the runt lambs, who wasn't eating all that much. The zookeeper came by and shook her head. "This one doesn't want to eat."

Mason looked up, brushing a tear from his cheek. "He's cold."

She nodded. "I know. We try and try, but he won't respond."

Mason looked at me, pleading with his dark eyes. I took his hand and squeezed. "Now you know why the bird ate me up inside."

He smiled and nuzzled the lamb with his nose, looking upwards at the sky, shutting his eyes; after a couple of moments his hands stilled along the lamb's side. I watched silently, not really sure what was happening. After a moment, the lamb stood on shaky legs, but headed towards the zookeeper and the bottle she held. He took a tentative sip from the bottle, and then started eating with relish.

I helped Mason to his feet. He grinned at me before he stumbled against me. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head and stood on his own. "Nothing."

As he walked towards the lamb, I noticed three more feathers on the ground. I picked them up and stuffed them in my pocket. What had he done?

Later that night, as I lay in bed, I stared at the ceiling, smiling, despite my worries. I heard a slight tap against the door. Mason stuck his head inside after I called out for him to enter. He sat on the edge of my bed and looked at me. "I'm cold. Can I join you?"

I pulled back the blankets as Mason dropped his shirt and jeans. He cuddled up against me, wrapping around my body, until he found a comfortable spot and trembled slightly. After a few moments, he stopped shaking, and stilled completely. Staring down at his face, brushing his hair back from his eyes, I noticed his eyes were shut, and his breathing slow and shallow. Amazingly, he'd fallen asleep. I cuddled back into my pillow and let sleep take me too, holding on to my angel, never wanting to let go.

The next morning, having woken up with a warm, content feeling, as well as a clingy angel on my side, I smiled to the ceiling before getting out of bed, happy down to my toes. At that moment, no matter when it would happen, I finally felt that I had no regrets. For once, I'd tasted what love and contentment was. I would leave this world and face the next one, without feeling cheated or lost. I got out of bed and dressed before I headed downstairs to make pancakes and bacon. The smell of frying bacon must have woken Mason, because he soon came downstairs, sniffing deeply.

"Good morning."

"Good morning."

I sat Mason down and served up a platter of pancakes and bacon, a jug of warm maple syrup, and a stick of butter. I prepared my food the way I liked it and watched as Mason did the same. We ate in companionable silence then did the dishes together. I searched through the cupboards, searching for the ingredients for my favorite recipe. I loved my mother's cookies that she called death by chocolate, but most people called chocolate covered cherry cookies. I had everything I needed but the butter. I went upstairs and grabbed Mason for another shower that was purely platonic, but no less intimate.

After I'd dressed, I grabbed my car keys and asked Mason if he'd like to join me. The panic in his eyes stopped me. I went over to him and cupped his face in my hands. "What's wrong?"

"Don't go."

I leaned away from him, tilting his face so I could see him better. "Why?"

"Please don't go."

The realization hit me. Today was the day I'd die. "I thought you didn't know when."

He shut his eyes and looked away. "You've completely become at peace. I knew then that it would happen."

I smiled at him and blinked away the tears. Yes, I was prepared, as much as I could be, but that didn't mean I wasn't scared, or sad, that I'd no longer know Mason. "I have no choice."

Tears pooled in his eyes. "Please? Don't go."

My own tears began to pool in my eyes, only to drip slowly down my cheeks. "I'm sorry. But... I can't stop this. Whatever it is, I can't stop it."

His hands snaked behind my neck, grasping the back of my head, pulling me down to meet his lips. His mouth closed over mine, in a kiss of raw, powerful need. Lost in sensation, I wrapped my arms around him, tasting him, feeling him. When he broke away to let me breathe, I buried my face in his neck and shuddered. His whisper floated over my shoulders, ripping my heart to shreds. "Don't leave me alone."

I shut my eyes and tried to hold everything back. "I'm sorry."

I pressed his head to my shoulder, using my other hand to smooth against his shoulders, to ease some of the emotional tension. Mason was no longer the cold, somewhat sarcastic angel that appeared in my bedroom. What had I done? He was now a feeling, needful man. I looked skyward, pleading. Don't make him suffer for my mistakes. Please. Don't hurt him because of me.

Once Mason had calmed, I pulled away but took his hand. "Come on. Let's go buy some butter so I can make my mom's cookies for you."

We sat in the car while I drove to the store. Mason sat sideways, so he could look at me. I tried to avoid the quiet pleading, the needy glances. When I stopped at a stoplight, I shut my eyes. My existence would be over, finished. His would go on and on throughout eternity. How much had he grown to feel? How much had he come to understand the frailties and tempest of human emotions? Even if he only had the most basic concept, he'd suffer for years, centuries, or longer. I put my hand on Mason's and squeezed. "I'm so sorry that you became corrupted by me. I wish I could promise that I'll see you on the other side, so you aren't alone."

After I pulled into the parking lot of the little corner store, Mason slid across the seat and held me, wrapping his arms around me. I felt that music that I heard that first night. I opened my eyes and the car was filled with a white light, so bright, it should have seared my vision, but it didn't hurt. The music grew louder before Mason sat away, his face a stoic mask. "What was that?"

"Nothing." His voice was sullen, like a scolded child. He looked over at me, contrite at his abruptness. "I'm sorry. It was worth a shot."

I swallowed around the lump in my throat, my voice whispered by emotion. "What was worth a shot?"

"I asked for a reprieve."

I started to chuckle. "You asked the Governor for a pardon?"

His smile was sad, but sweet. "Yes, I did."

I nodded. "Come on then, let's get some butter."

The little market was small, run by a little man who spoke little English. His back was stooped, but he was friendly. I'd stopped here more often then not on my way to work for a soft drink or on my way home for that one or two items I'd needed for dinner. There were six rows of shelves, a large cooler on one wall, and the little register counter topped with a large cigarette dispenser. A woman, although she only qualified because she held a toddler in her arms, a man buying beer, and Mason and myself were the only customers. I led Mason to the cooler in the back and grabbed what I needed. As I turned back to the counter, the front door opened and a man entered.

The stranger pushed the man who bought beer back from the door and pulled out a gun. He pointed it towards the owner and demanded money. My heart sped to almost bursting as I took it all in. The little girl in her mother's arms started to cry, sensing the tension in the room. The gunman spun around, agitated. "Shut that kid up!"

The girl, her eyes round, swallowed and kissed the top of the girl's head, whispering soft words to her. It didn't quiet the girl, but it seemed to have eased the gunman's fears, because he turned back and waved the gun at the owner. "Speed it up, old man."

The owner's hands shook as he opened the register. The gunman leaned over and started grabbing cash. The man who bought beer stood and the gunman turned and fired his gun, missing the man, but shattering the glass case behind him, showering the young girl with the baby with glass. The toddler started screaming loudly, and squirmed out of her mother's arms. I shut my eyes. I knew what was going to happen. I turned to Mason and brushed my lips against his cheek. "I love you," I whispered into his ear.

The gunman turned and aimed at the little girl who ran from her mother. I ran down the aisle towards her. I caught her around the waist and pushed her into the shelves holding bags of chips. I heard the loud echo of the gun going off a mere second before my back exploded in pain. I collapsed to my knees and looked to Mason; his face a mask of horror. I shook my head, trying to clear my suddenly blurry vision before I collapsed to the floor.

It hurt to breathe, like I was sucking in air through a wet, soggy blanket. I was suddenly very tired. I looked down at my chest, and the moment I saw the gaping wound, I felt the pain. I screamed out with the agony, and then watched as the blood bubbled out my chest, like blowing bubbles in milk through a straw. I heard another gunshot then Mason was at my side, leaning over me. He touched my cheek and I saw tears stream down his face. "Don't go."

I reached out to touch his face. "You knew I had to."

He nodded before he lowered to press his lips to my forehead. "I love you, too."

The words echoed in my ears as the rest of my world went black. For a moment, there was nothing, no form, no sound, no nothing in the great void. I opened my eyes and noticed that the store was faded, muted around me. The pain in my chest gone, I sat up, and looked around. Mason still knelt above me. I tried to touch his arm, but my hand passed right through him.

I stood and stepped away, and saw my body lying beneath Mason's, blood pooling around my back. Mason shook my shoulders and whimpered before throwing his head back and screaming. I wanted to shut my eyes or cry, but found I could do neither. I felt badly, but like everything else, my emotions were just as gray and muted as my vision.

As Mason lowered over my body, touching my face, the gray vision fled as the room filled with the brightest, overwhelming light, brighter than the sun filled the room. Music, sweeter and grander than I'd ever heard filled my ears. I looked around, seeking the source of the sound. It compelled me to move, blocking out all other thought from my mind. Before I could take one step, the light and the sound was cut off, leaving me back in the store, unfocused, almost bereft. I looked back to see Mason, kneeling above me, his wings unfurled, pure determination on his face. What was he doing?

As I watched Mason, the feathers on his wings began shriveling and dropping off. I stepped towards him, wanting to stop him when I heard a voice.

You can't help him.

I spun around. "Who are you?"

We spoke once before.

"In New Orleans?"

Another angel stood before me, with blond hair and blue eyes, tall and powerful, with a stern, but oddly amused expression on his face. At my question, he nodded once. "Yes. In New Orleans."

"What is happening?"

He glanced over my shoulder. "He is blocking you from leaving him."

"How?"

The angel shook his head and sighed. "It won't work, at least not for long." He came to me and turned me around. "He's using up his life force to shield your soul from being called home."

"What happens when his life force is gone?"

The angel shook his head and sighed. "He'll become human. A fallen angel."

I wanted to be frantic, but I wasn't feeling much of anything. "I'll be dead anyway?"

"Yes."

"Let me talk to him. I'll talk him into letting me go."

He shook his head. "I've already tried. He's blocking me out too."

"Who are you?"

He cocked a half grin at me. "His boss."

"Great." I turned and looked at Mason. He didn't have long. Then what would happen to him? He'd be all alone. Having to learn how to be human. No guide. No one to care for him. "Is there anything that can be done? He'll be alone."

"There is nothing."

I stood before the angel, a lone tear slipping down my cheek. "Put me back for a few moments, I'll get him to let me go."

"I cannot."

"There must be something."

"Why do you care?"

I closed my eyes. "Because I love him. And he'll hurt too much either way, because I won't be there for him. But if he stays an angel, he'll at least have something familiar about him."

"It will hurt. A lot."

I nodded. "I understand."

The angel stepped back and spread his arms and stared at the ceiling. Another wash of light bathed him in an ethereal glow. He stood silently for mere seconds before dropping his hands and looking at me. "What if we sent you back permenantly?"

"Can that be done?"

He nodded his head once. I nodded my head enthusiastically. He put his hand on my arm. "You will be in constant pain. The damage is extensive. Depending on the medical care you receive… your life will be different."

I shut my eyes. It didn't matter. A life, any sort of life, with Mason, was worth any pain. "I'll go back. No matter what."

"We'll wait until he's human."

That made me stop. "Wait. What happens when he dies?"

The angel smiled at me and winked, although not very well, as if he copied something he'd seen and was still working on the gesture. "Provided he leads a good life, he'll be called home to Him just like you."

I smiled and turned. When the last of Mason's feathers withered away into dust, the block on the light was gone. I felt compelled to follow, but the angel put his hand on my shoulder and led me back to my body. He pushed me down and told me to shut my eyes. When I opened them again, Mason leaned over me. The store was back to full color. I took one breath and screamed from the agony.

Mason leaned back and stared at me in shock. "But how?"

I tried to speak, but kept choking on the blood. Mason placed his fingers over my mouth and smiled. The paramedics arrived and started working on me. I don't really remember much of anything. Between the pain, the morphine, and the anesthetic when I was wheeled into surgery, time lost all meaning to me.

After an unknowable amount of time later, the blackness of nothing receded and I opened my eyes. I saw white, sterile walls, heard a steady, drowning beat of electronics, and the wheezing of a respirator. I moved my hand and I noticed the feeling as if an elephant sat on my chest. There was something down my throat, but an audible groan filled my ears. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and saw Mason sit up and lean over me. Tears pooled in his eyes until they started dripping down his face. He took my hand in his and started whispering.

His words were beyond my ability to comprehend, but the emotion behind them wasn't lost on me. I reached out and cupped my cheek, shocked to find stubble on his cheek. Where was the porcelain skin? What had happened? Before the thought could form into words, my world went black again.

Many times I came back to the reality of the world for barely five minutes, before drifting back into the void again. Each time I surfaced, it became easier to comprehend the things around me. But no matter how long the span of time between waking, Mason sat by my side. Over all this time, I noticed how his beard grew darker and fuller as the hours and days drifted by.

After nearly a week, I was moved out of ICU and into a regular hospital room. I could stay awake for many hours at a time, and could understand what had happened. Apparently, the bullet passed through my lung, missing my spine and heart by mere millimeters. After nearly two weeks, they took me off the respirator for good. When they let Mason back into the room, I smiled at him and tried to speak. "Hello, sweetheart."

He sat on the side of the bed and took my hand. His face haggard, his beard grown ragged. He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it. "I've missed you so much."

I had to drink some water, because my throat was raw. "I couldn't leave you."

"What happened?"

"A miracle."

Mason nodded then sat up straighter. He looked uncomfortable. "What's wrong, Mason?"

He blushed a bit and took my hand and placed it against his crotch. He was hard and rigid beneath his jeans. "Is this supposed to happen?"

Mason gasped as I squeezed around his erection. His hand covered mine and stilled it. "Yes, it is normal."

He shut his eyes as I moved my finger against him. "Was this what you meant in the shower in New Orleans?"

I chuckled then grasped my chest in pain. "Yes. A delicious ache."

"Is there any way to make it go away?"

I cupped his face in my hand and brushed my thumb against his lips. "Time. A cold shower. And once I'm out of here, I'll explore all the other ways with you." I dropped my hand and removed the other one from his crotch. "If you want to, that is."

He lowered over my bed and brushed his lips against mine. "I want to."

I smiled and lay back against the pillows. My eyes wandered over his face. "You need to shave."

Mason brushed his beard with his fingers. "I don't know how."

I smiled as I touched his shaggy beard. "I'll show you."

He then unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and pulled it open. A wealth of soft, dark hair swirled over his chest. "Do I have to shave this too?"

I shook my head and smiled when all I wanted to do was laugh. "Not if you don't want to."

"I don't. I like it."

"Then you can keep it."

He ducked his head and looked at me from under hooded eyelids. "Do you like it?"

I took his hand in mine until he looked directly in my eyes. "I like it very much. Everything about you I like."




The Angel By My Side



We sat, staring at each other, for several moments, just soaking in the sight of each other. Then a though occurred to me. "Is there anything else I need to show you?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I have a long list."

"Like?"

"I need to learn to drive a car. Laundry. Street maps. Microwaves--"

I put my hand over his mouth. "Lots of things. Gotcha. We'll start as soon as I go home." I looked towards the door. "Has anyone said when that might be?"

Mason nodded. "The doctors want to keep you for a few more days."

The door opened and a delivery of flowers arrived. The orderly set them on my table, by the window and left us alone. Mason stood and got the card, sniffed the flowers, sneezed, then sat down by my side again. he handed me the card. I pushed it back into his hands. "Come on. let's start teaching you to read."

Mason ran his finger under the seal of the envelope then dropped it and cried out. "Ouch."

"What's wrong?"

Tears welled in his eyes, his lip quivered. "I don't know."

I took his hand in mine and saw a small paper cut. Was he serious? This was nothing. But as I looked in Mason's tear-filled eyes, I realized that someone who had never felt pain before, the slightest twinge would be nearly devastating. "You'll be okay. I promise."

He nodded and pulled the card out of the envelope. He looked at it, as if it held the secrets of the universe. I pointed to each word. "That's a 'g'. It makes a 'gu' or a 'ju' sound."

He looked down and said "Gu... eee... t. Get?" He looked to my face and when I nodded his smile lit the room. "Get."

I pointed at the next word. "That's a 'w'. It's a 'wa' sound."

"Wa... eeee... llll." He looked at me. "Well?"

"Yes."

"Get well?"

I nodded. His smile was like warmth and comfort all in one. He took my hand in his and nearly bounced off the bed. "I can read it."

"Yes. You can." I pointed to the last word. "Who is it from?"

"Ju... iiii... m. Jim."

Yeah. Jim Shipman may not have been my choice for a first sexual encounter, but it seemed he wasn't a complete asshole either. "Yeah. Jim sent these."

Mason frowned as he looked at the card. "What's wrong?"

Mason looked at me and shook his head. "Does this mean Jim is…?"

I shook my head. "Jim isn't who I came back for."

He smiled and nodded. A few days later, I got to go home. I was supposed to take things easy, and for the most part I did. But not before I saw to a few things first. I took Mason's hand and hobbled to the bathroom. "We need to shave you, hon."

He sat on the toilet as I wetted down a washcloth in warm water. I applied it to his face, took the scissors, and cut away at his beard. "You have to trim it with scissors when you let it grow so long, or else you damage the blade."

After I'd trimmed up the beard, I wetted his face again before I applied the shave cream. "This makes things slick so the whiskers come off without burning the skin."

I made quick strokes with the razor, baring his face, uncovering the beauty underneath hidden by the mountain man look of hair. When I was done, Mason stood and looked at himself in the mirror. "Thank you. I didn't know how to take care of it." He turned his head from side to side, as if to see his ears. "I don't care for the beard."

I chuckled and wrapped my arms around him and kissed the side of his neck. "However you like it. It's your body."

He placed his hand over mine and turned to brush his lips against mine. "Yes. It is. But I want you to like it too."

I deepened the kiss before answering. "Mason, I'll love you no matter what you look like."

He shut his eyes and squeezed my hands. "I love you too. No matter what."

I kissed him again, staying behind him, using the pressure against his back to brace my newly knitted ribs together. When Mason began to fidget, I pulled away. "That problem back again?"

He nodded and moved my hand down his belly to rub against the distended fly of his jeans. "Make it better?"

I kissed his nose and led him to the bedroom. I felt bad, but I couldn't move that well. "Mason? Will you help me undress?"

He grinned before he undid the buttons on my shirt and loosened my belt. I ran my hands under his tee shirt, reveling in the silky hair along his belly and up his chest. When my pants and underwear had fallen around my feet, he stepped back and quickly doffed his own clothes and had me sit gently on the bed. He pulled my clothes off me and lay back with me against the pillows. "What now?"

I took his hand in mine and kissed his palm. "We're going to be limited for a while, until I'm fully healed." I took his hand and wrapped his fingers around my shaft, holding him in place. I took my free hand and wrapped my fingers around him, amazed at how thick he felt in my palm. I stroked him once, and smiled when he shut his eyes and shuddered along the length of his body. I kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, "Do the same for me."

With slow, careful, deliberate motions, we lay, half facing each other, staring into each other's eyes as our hands brought us pleasure. Hearing Mason moan and gasp, was like sweet music to my ears. But as his body tightened and readied itself for release, the near panic of his face made me kiss him, brushing my lips against his. "It's okay. Let it happen."

I watched his face for every nuance, each innocent, new expression as his body climbed higher and higher. When his pleasure grew too great, his hand fisted around me, nearly crushing my cock in his hand as he cried out, coating my belly with his release. Copious amounts of semen left his body, decorating me in ropy, pearly excitement. As his body calmed, I kissed his sweaty brow, murmuring nothing words to him as he fell asleep. Even though he left me unfulfilled, I'd never been more content in my life. Still slumberous from my injuries, I soon joined him in dream land.

As my body healed, the forays into our sexuality became bolder, more intense. When the doctors finally pronounced me as fully healed, we took the final steps to bond us together. Over time, Mason learned to read, drive a car, handle a microwave, find and hold down a job, and all the other things that human beings need to do to get through life.

Many months later, on a lazy Saturday morning, Mason was lying beneath me, accepting my thrusting, clutching my ass as my hips pounded into him. Our moans and cries filled the room, our passion climbed higher and higher. I looked into Mason's eyes and smiled around a pant. "I love you."

His whimpered response of, "I love you," made me quicken, riding harder and faster. I could tell Mason teetered on the brink, nearly at the point of release when he stopped and stared at nothing. I paused and stared into his eyes. "What's wrong?"

Mason shook his head. "Who are you?"

I didn't hear anything but pulled his face to mine. "What's going on?"

Mason looked at me and started laughing. "I'm sorry about what I did to you all those months ago. You must have hated being interrupted."

My excitement withered as I rolled off him, lying by his side, grabbing a blanket to cover us. "Another angel?"

Mason nodded. "Yeah." He looked at me and laughed. "He watches the fallen angels." He looked off to the corner and grinned. "He wanted to know why were doing this."

I chuckled. "Did you tell him?"

He shook his head. "I told him he shouldn't eavesdrop in the bedroom."

I looked around the room and shuddered. "How many angels will watch over us?"

Mason shrugged. "I don't know. But I doubt they'll bother us again."

"Why?"

"Because I told them I was happy and healthy. And I never expect it to change."

I swallowed back the tears his simple words brought and crushed my mouth to his. Rolling him under me, I found myself nearly instantly ready to take up where we left off. Within moments, we were joined, rocking gently this time towards completion. At that moment, at the point of no return, I heard the voice in my head, the same as from the church in New Orleans. Why do you care?

Because I love him.