0 comments/ 16994 views/ 0 favorites Angel By: simply_cyn I’m lost in the abounding emotion that floods my soul at the mere mention of his name and sitting down to capture them in words is a challenge for me. How do you capture love in a moment of time and put it down for others to read? But that is the challenge that sets before me today, at this moment. What drives me to do it is to capture this moment of my life and bookmark it like a favorite site on my internet browser, so I can visit it again and again when my heart ceases to beat. Then I am reminded, again, of what drives me on through this mundane world – him. I sit here trying to conjure up words to explain the beat of my heart, the whisper of a soft voice in my head, the pound of my blood running deeply through my veins and I’m finding it difficult, more difficult than I can explain. Even though I am a classic realist, he puts my head in the clouds and sends my heart soaring where it can’t be touched ... it scares me so. I feel so helpless in moments like this … so vulnerable but yet, I can’t stop it. It’s like a myriad of colors that seep into my soul and a warm gentle breeze that calms me even as my heart beats a million miles a minute. It makes no sense! All practicality rushes away when I lay in his arms … even in the soft rumble of his accent but yet, I feel so at home, so at peace, when I am in his presence. It’s as though all that makes sense clashes into this jumble of peace within me. While my heart beats helplessly, lost in this place that he puts me with a simple smile, I am so content just that he smiles upon me. God, I crave him … I need him like I have needed no other and it’s so hopelessly insane. At times I think I’ve lost my mind and I’m a mature woman with responsibilities and college degrees and a philosopher at heart. But at times like this I realize that I am just a woman who is lost in a man. There are no specifics that I can specifically write about. Of course, we’ve had our physically bonding moments and I could go into detail but that would, then, mar what I hold dear to my heart. Those moments are for us alone. The details are so vivid in my mind though and I can still taste the nectar of his kiss, the warmth of his arms and the smell of his skin against mine. Instead what I want to capture is the turmoil of emotions that he brings out in me. Perhaps in sharing those, you, too, can relieve those moments special to you and remember the bond that ties. Of course there is that fluttering in the pit of your belly … that almost sickly sweet feeling where if you ate anything spicy at that particular moment, you would throw up. It rears its head quickly when he enters a room or when my e-mail blinks and I see it is from him … or even, lately, when my cell phone rings and I see his phone number blinking in time to the downloaded ring. I can barely speak for the breathlessness that enraptures my whole being and takes over the normal tone of my voice. And then I cradle lovingly the phone to my ear as if I had a hold of his hand and was tenderly brushing it against my face. These little things take hold of me when I’m lost in the moment that is him. In the first few weeks that I have discovered this intense feeling that I have for him, I’ve also discovered my insecurities. I feel so helpless at times because of this rush of needful want that takes hold of me when it comes to him, as if I am so afraid of it ending and breaking my fragile heart. I, like many people around me, have had my share of broken dreams and unfulfilled promises and I, at times, am so afraid to hope. I try to control this roller coaster of emotions that he instills within me because I don’t like being out of control. I like to have a clear head on my shoulder and know where I am going but he has stolen them away from me and where I almost feel like I should be screaming “Foul!”, I have, instead, just given them up. But I am still scared of him shattering my heart. I hope that is expected at this point of our relationship. I want so desperately to label the intense feelings I have for him as love. It is what bubbles up within me and springs to my lips but I fear to say them. That word makes me so vulnerable and I still don’t really know, am not really reassured, that these intense feelings are the same for him and I want them so desperately to be. But we are still in the growth stages … seeing where it will go, what the future holds in store for us. I try to tell myself to slow down but my heart is running full throttle and I’m not sure I can stop it at this point. For now I try to reassure myself and just enjoy the moments that we have together. My head says it is too early to love him and maybe it is but someone needs to try telling that to my heart. Angel Disclaimer: The events told in this work of fiction is just that: fiction. The drug that Will uses in this story does not exist, and if it does, it is purely coincidental. I do not approve of nor encourage anyone to try out hallucinogenic - heck, any - 'recreational' drugs at all. The stuff will mess you up, and life can be enjoyed perfectly well if you keep yourself away from them. At the best, its only fun for five minutes that you probably will not remember, and then you will suffer for the rest of your memorable life yearning for a fool's paradise. This is simply a whimsical fantasy of mine that will stay as just that. That aside, I hope you guys enjoy this. "Dude, just pop a pill and enjoy... oh, you might also want to sit down when you do." Angel. That's what Derek had called this stuff. I followed his advice to the letter, settling myself down on the couch. I had quickly done a tidy-up of the house, stowing anything important or dangerous if handled while drugged up inside cupboards and such, before duct-taping them shut. I didn't want to do anything stupid, after all. A mug - plastic - of water and the small white pill sat on the coffee table. The white pill had been edged with a golden tint, making it look like an angel's halo. Oh well, here goes. I crushed the pill on the inside rim of the mug, letting it crumble into the glass of water, and began to drink. Twenty dollar's worth of liquid flowed down my throat, and I quickly began to feel dizzy. Shit, what the fuck had that bastard given me? I staggered up to my feet, scrambling for some aspirin or something that could stop the drug mind-fucking my brain. I must have fallen down on the ground or something, because the next think I knew I was crawling up to the couch, where I shivered for a few seconds before I fell asleep. "Ryan..." The gentle, feminine voice in my ear made me shiver slightly, her cool breath sending the hairs on the back of my neck prickling. Wait, who the fuck was that? I jerked awake to fall off my couch, tumbling to the ground. Someone gasped, and I heard a flutter - like paper falling off a table. Sitting up, I leaned my head against the coffee table. Derek fucking scammed me, didn't he? Fuck... I rubbed the rough stubble of my neglect, and looked around a little more. Something wasn't right. I tried to put a few pieces together in my mind, thinking about what the hell had just happened. "Ryan!" The voice came again, more urgent, less gentle. The flutter of paper returned, and something pressed against my shoulder. It felt like a hand. The voice was coming from my right. I swiveled my head around, felt something slap against my face as the voice gave a cry of alarm. Ouch! What the hell was that? I heard something fall on the coffee table, and turned around. Picking herself up was a small, doll-sized woman. She could not have been more than a foot and a half tall, and her crumpled wings flexed as she stood up. Her body was definitely mature, and she clocked in at about her early twenties. Fresh, nubile meat, huh? White robes covered her chest and hips, leaving her midriff bare as she folded her gently tanned arms under her ample globes. Her piercing blue eyes and flowing golden hair reminded me of... of... ah, fuck it. I looked at this little apparition, wondering what the hell was going on. Curious, I reached out and grabbed her like a five year old. She gave out a muffled scream of surprise as I picked her up, and held her in the palm of my hand. My fingers began to prod her skin, feeling it underneath her clothes. "Hey! What the!? Ryan, stop this at once!" The mini-angel protested, and yelped as I pressed my finger against a breast. Rubbing it in circles, I watched with a curious expression as her face turned from alarmed to desperate worry. "Stop! That's just disgusting! Touching the breast of a woman you don't even know!" "Some woman. Don't think I'll be fitting my cock in you, so just shut the fuck up." I groused, irritated. Pressing the breast down caused the mini-woman gave another squeal as I pressed a long-overdue-for-a-cut fingernail against her nipple, and began to flick it around. After a moment's consideration, I simply hooked the nail underneath and ripped her boob tube off her body. Throwing the scrap of fabric away, I admired her breasts for a while. The firm globes weren't marred by tan-lines, and had slightly darker circles on them to show off her nipples. "Just what do you think gives you the right to do this, you overgrown perv!" All composure lost as her flaming red cheeks glowed red, she began to struggle against my grip. It was useless really, I had five feet on her and was about a hundred sixty times heavier than this one-pound doll. I pressed harder against her breasts, and with her complaining I lost all interest in them. Moving my way down, I saw that my pinkie was about as big as a foot long penis would be to a fully grown woman, and a smile formed on my face as I realized I could make this woman really, really uncomfortable. She saw this, and began to redouble her struggles. However, my hand was already more than a match at restraining her, so all I did was simply to lay her down on the coffee table, keeping her pinned down with my left hand as I began to probe her with my right. "Wait... wait, no, you can't!" My cock-finger slipped between her legs, and I parted her shapely limbs to reveal a shaved pussy. "Ooh, nice and naughty, are we?" I teased in both word and touch, pushing her cunt lips apart as my pinkie began to penetrate her. "NO! There's no way that thing could fit!" Her next sentence was turned into a howl of pain as I pressed deeper, stretching her little pussy wide. When I drew the finger out, the tiny crevasses of my fingerprint was filled with blood. More was leaking from her cunt, and I bent down to lick it up. The friction of my tongue going across her pussy lips made her twitch and spasm slightly, but mostly the mini-bitch was crying from the pain. "Oops. Pop goes the cherry." I chuckled as I let go of the little angel, who curled up as best she could, her white wings stained with blood now as she tried to hide from me. She didn't get far, as a foot stepped on her. It belonged to a similarly sized woman, who had bright, sun-tanned skin... and not much else. Her clothes consisted of dark grey cloth, tied tightly around black metal rings. They covered the usual places; tits, crotch and some parts of her ass. Long, dark hair was tied just above her butt-cheeks, and a few loose locks almost covered the bumps of her nipples. She was the total opposite of my violated angel. The succubus could only be called what she was: drop dead sexy and absolutely daring me to prod something. She turned around, and looked at her own pussy, running a hand along it to frame the black fabric. "Y'know, dear. I'll just get myself wet while you play with Miss Tight-arse here, okay?" I nodded quickly, and had my finger re-entering the virgin - sorry, formerly virgin - angel's pussy. She lifted her hips at my violation, giving out another pained cry as she felt my three-inch/foot long finger enter her. I fucked her like that for a while, before I noticed that she was getting a little looser. While all of this was happening, the succubus had tore off her black panties and was frigging herself, with about four fingers pumping in and out of her pussy. Looking at her, I felt my prick getting hard under the cover of my shorts. I freed it, and began to jack off in front of the two mini-girls. The one being violated screamed all the louder, shouting incoherently about something not being able to fit. A drop of blood - maybe a quarter of a cup for her - squirted out of her body as she tensed up, locked in a forced orgasm as she howled out something non sensible. My succubus laughed as she saw her companion spasm in uncontrollable rapture, spattering her own legs in a mix of blood and cunt-juice. The laughing little bitch walked over to her opposite number, flipped her limp body over, and checked her pussy. The succubus licked at it a few times, seeing my cock twitch in appreciation as she played with the angelic girl's pussy. Grinning, she lay down on top of the other woman. "Take your pick." She giggled, wiggling her ass as honey-like cunt-juice flowed from her slit. "Fuck yeah." I growled, pressing a finger to the unviolated hole. Pushing in was pretty easy, and I began to fuck her little hole with my finger, the succubus too was screaming aloud as she bucked her hips to oppose my movements. I kept thrusting into her like that, pushing my finger in until it was down to the knuckle. She straightened her legs as she was pounded, and I could see that underneath, her womb was deforming where I was pushing against it so hard. "Oh fuck! Yesyesyes, its sooo BIG! Fuck me there! MMHH! Yeah, you're getting me close! I'm there, I'M CUMMING!" She was screaming incoherently as she came, her body tightening up and spasming like crazy as she rode wave after wave of orgasm as they washed over her body. Her pussy was squeezing my finger to the point where I thought I'd lose some circulation, and I pulled out quickly. The friction of the tight hole and my pinkie made her orgasm again, and she fell, twitching and screaming, off the violated angel. I was jacking off eagerly at the sight of her pulsing pussy, which seemed to be spraying girl cum all over the place. The angel was stirred by the racket, and she quickly woke up to the sight of her succubus partner twisting and turning in the throes of orgasm. Her blue eyes widened as she watched the hellspawn writhe in pleasure, her hands at her pussy lips, teasing them to even greater lengths as she turned herself into knots to keep herself busy. The angel looked around, then up. She gasped as she saw my cock, and my hand busily jacking off to the sight of the mini-bitch cumming herself to death and back. I turned to the angel, and pointed the cock right at her. She was transfixed in horror, wondering what I was going to do with it. Our obviously large size difference meant that it would be simply a waste to try and get her to fit my cock inside that pin-head sized pussy, so I quickly pressed her head into the precum already spewing out of my member. Her hair in place between my fingers as I held them up, she got the idea that if she wanted to breathe anytime soon, she would have to lick her way free. Literally. Compliant, the angel began to lick at the tip of my penis, sometimes kissing the hole at the top as if they were lips, swirling her tongue inside. Angel and virgin she may have been, but damn she knew how to lick a cock. I shivered as she began to use her hands, feeding a few fingers into my cock, touching the insides of my penis. Her stimulation and my previous self-gratification proved too much, and I just managed to lower the tip as I began to climax. The jet of cum coming out my cock spattered across her chest, and she was thrown back as I jacked off my semen all over her pretty body. Oh boy, she was beautiful. Her body was absolutely spattered as I sent a second set of semen at the red-skinned devil-whore, splashing her with cum as she giggled and played with the sticky white substance. She was squeezing it in her hands, licking them off her fingers and opening her mouth for another jet to be shot into her throat. I bellowed like a bull, and blacked out. When I woke up, I knew that I had to try that again. -=-=-=-=-=- "... thanks for the weather, Will. In other news, a young man was found dead in his apartment after a drug overdose. Evidence was found of him rampaging about his house in a hallucinated state, before what seems to be a second dose of the drug known as 'angel' finally sent him into a full cardiac arrest and comatose state. He fell from the top of his couch and fractured his skull on a coffee table. It is unknown if anyone was with him at the ti-" The radio was cut off, and Detective Salvatore Croix stepped out of the car. "Right. Alice, what do we have here?" He asked the senior forensic tech, who was looking into the living area. The entire place looked pretty neat, except for the spatter of blood on the coffee table and floor, along with several white stains all around the couch. "Looks like the poor kid went on a trip. Instant hypersexuality. He's sprayed semen all over the place, and if he had a partner, then it looks like she - or he - is walking around with a cup of semen up their... well, yeah. You'd better start looking up that alley, Sal. See if anyone was partying with him when he hit up the second dose." "Okay. See you back at the lab if I find anything." Sal sighed, and turned around. He smiled a little, though. Working with Alice had always been fun. If not, it certainly livened up his night, and he was pretty sure it livened up hers, too. ~To be continued? I want your opinions on if I should feed more victims Angel~ Angel Ariel listened to the cacophony of the voices buzzing in her head, all the evil, perverse (and potentially delightful) thoughts that emanated from the pedestrians as they scurried around her in their haste to return to the hellholes that were their jobs. Her mind was never left alone. She even walked in their dreams, traipsing through the humans' darkest fantasies, so that she was denied true sleep. She felt all their suffering, hate, lust, and greed. But sometimes she tasted the intense joy they experienced, and that's what made it all worthwhile. For now. She tried to give these creatures what they enjoyed, such as yesterday, when she dragged an involuntarily celibate businessman into an alley and gave him the blowjob of his dreams, no questions asked. She was spreading joy in the world by fulfilling one sick, demented and twisted fantasy at a time. Of course, through her telepathic link she herself experienced the full intensity of the pleasure she gave her "clients." She wasn't in this business for nothing. However, mere blowjobs no longer did the trick for her. She needed more and more, fulfillment of the darkest fantasies these humans could spin. It wasn't always this way. In the old days (i.e., Biblical times), angels swooped down on Earth and kicked some serious ass on a regular basis. Now the few of them left on this planet were stranded in a Godless world. Nobody really knew where the Big Guy had gone. Some said to a promising planet in another galaxy, but most thought that He was traveling back in time, all the way back to the Big Bang, in order to rethink things and maybe get it right next time with a few minor adjustments. It didn't much matter where He had gone. The angels were stranded on this literally Godforsaken mudball of a planet, separated forever from contact with Divine Perfection. Now Ariel was left with only her telepathy and her ability to alter her appearance at will as pathetic remnants of her former divine powers. Today as she walked down the street, she attracted far fewer wolf whistles than usual. That was due to her appearance. She had taken on the form of a 6' 3" bull dyke, complete with motorcycle jacket and black tee shirt, topped off with a Marlon Brand 1950s style motorcycle hat covering her buzz-cut hair. She was going to make a house call on a certain Freddy Black and she needed to look like his dream woman. She had studied the part for three nights now, trawling through his dreams to seek out his darkest fantasies. She crossed the street and entered the tenement house, walking up four flights and then knocking on Black's door. Freddy Black opened the door and there stood the woman of his dreams. "It can't be," he said, "you're not real." "Shut up, fat boy. When did I ever ask you to talk? Just get it out," Ariel said, her eyes indicating the top drawer of Freddy's bureau. Freddy walked over and pulled the 8" double dildo out of the drawer and handed it to her. She held it up, admiring its craftsmanship, right down to the veins on its cocks and the realistic detail of the ceramic balls. "You have been a bad boy," Ariel said, "a very bad boy. Now take it off, take it all off. You know what happens to bad boys." Freddy unbuckled his pants and let them fall to the floor. He wriggled out of his boxer shorts and pulled his moth-eaten strap tee shirt over his head. "You know what to do," Ariel told him. Freddy climbed up on the bed and assumed the position, kneeling with his legs spread, his hairy ass in the air, his face down on the dirty sheet, his hands spreading his ass for her. Ariel quickly shed her clothes, running her hands down her unfamiliar beer gut, which she had donned for Freddy's sake. She began lubricating the dildo with the little Vaseline that remained in Freddy's jar. "You have really disappointed Mommy," she said as she slowly shoved one of the dildo cocks into her own cunt, burying it in her right up to the testicles hilt. She could feel Freddy's pleasure of anticipation running through her telepathic mind. He was consciously thinking "please do it slowly," but in the depths of his soul he wanted her to shove it into him as hard as she could, and shove it she did, ramming the second cock all the way up his well-traveled passage. Then she slid it out and shoved it in again, the balls of the dildo colliding with Freddy's balls with each forward thrust. She moved her hands underneath him to grab his cock and balls. With her left hand, she began to massage and squeeze his balls while her right hand alternately squeezed and released his cock. She bent over him so that her pendulous breasts brushed against the skin of his hairy back with each thrust. She began to lick his upper spinal column as she continued to thrust into him. She could feel Freddy's pleasure mounting, riding each wave of his ecstasy, each more powerful that the last. Freddy's cock grew to even bigger dimensions in her hand as she thrust into him more and more violently. She felt the veins in his cock grow bigger still, and she began to slide her hand up and down that organ as though it were a pump-action shotgun and she were surrounded by hungry zombies. She squeezed his balls even harder as she rode him and worked the skin of his cock harder and harder. The pleasure she felt with her telepathic powers, Freddy's pleasure, grew more and more intense until she felt his balls jump in her hand and felt his body grow taught, as she buried the dildo within him (and within her) just as he poured his cum onto the sheet and all over her hand. Then Freddy just lay in the bed, whimpering with delight, and tears filled her own eyes as she felt his ecstasy course through her. She reached down to wipe a tear from Freddy's cheek. She whispered into his ear, "Ssh. It's OK, honey, Mommy's here." "Will you come back?" he asked her in a trembling voice "I'm sorry, honey, it's not allowed. I will always love you and surround you, but I can only be here in the flesh this one time. But I can stay with you now for a while. We can just lie here for a while if you like," she said, resting her head on Freddy's back and wrapping her arms around him and listening to his sobs, faint against the sound of passing traffic. The next night, Ariel climbed into the bedroom window of a prematurely balding computer geek by the name of Alphonse Gilopski, whose intense dreams she had been sharing for over a fortnight. She was dressed as a ninja to disguise her approach. As she entered the bedroom, she saw that (predictably enough) Gilopski was wearing his Darth Vader helmet, the one with the voice synthesizer. "Who goes there?" James Earl Jones' sonorous voice asked her from beneath the mask. In response, she tore off her ninja outfit and stood before him, as Princess Leia in her finest Jabba-the-Hutt-styled copper bikini, her firm stomach muscles complemented by an emerald in her belly button, her tanned and lithe legs poorly concealed by a red silk loincloth. She walked over to Gilopski's bureau and retrieved the light saber from the top shelf. She flicked it on, pointed it at Gilopski's throat and began to advance menacingly toward him. Darth / Gilopski raised his arm in warning, and spoke in his thunderous voice, "I am your father, Leia." "I know, and you have been a very bad Daddy. Abandoning me so that you could fool around with the dark side of the Force. You need to be punished," Ariel said in her best Betty Boop / Mae West / Shirley Temple voice. She backed him to the bed and tossed him the handcuffs. "Here, put these on, one on each hand." Gilopski obeyed her command. "Now take off that off that silly robe." Gilopski complied. "Now loose those silly-ass Batman pajamas." Gilopski did as he was told and stood naked before her, if you didn't count the Darth Vader helmet. "Now get on the bed." He did so, and Ariel immediately cuffed his hands to the bedposts. She traced the light saber down his throat, down his sternum, to his cock. She circled the saber around his johnson, watching it grow and telepathically sharing his pleasure at her every touch. She brought the light saber down hard on his genitals, and Gilopski moaned in pleasure and pain. She brought the tip of the saber to Gilopski's throat. "You need to be punished, don't you, Daddy?" The Darth Vader helmet nodded up and down. She gave his genitals another vicious whack with the saber, and Gilopski winced in pain beneath the helmet. "Do you want mommy to kiss it and make it better?" The helmet nodded once again. Ariel could feel his pleasure. She looked down. Gilopski's not-unimpressive cock was hard as a rock. She gave his throat a whack for good measure and then brought her lips down to his neck and began to lick the spot where she had hit him. She ran her hands over his chest and belly as her tongue worked its way down his neck and onto his sternum. Her hands reached lower and lower as her tongue traced its way down his chest and belly. Her hands brushed his cock and balls briefly as they continued their journey down Gilopski's legs. Her tongue explored his abdomen and then the skin around his cock and balls, brushing the latter softly with her cheek. Gilopski arched his back, begging for her to take his rock-hard, throbbing cock into her mouth. She stepped back and gave his genitals two more good whacks with the light saber. "Do you want me now, Daddy?" she purred. The Darth Vader helmet nodded vigorously up and down, and her mouth pounced on his cock, swallowing all seven inches on the first plunge. She withdrew her mouth slowly, feeling Gilopski's pleasure as her lips traced their way up his shaft and her tongue slurped it up and down its length. "Do you want Mamma to do that again, Darthie?" The helmet nodded once more. "We'll see," she said, as she took her mouth off his cock and rested her cheek against it, as her finger circled his balls. She flicked her tongue against his left ball and traced a fingernail up and down the underside of his rigid prick. "Will you do everything your Princess tells you?" The helmet nodded, and Gilopski's intense excitement flooded Ariel's mind. She rose and gave his balls another hard whack with the saber. Then she swooped down and engulfed his balls with her mouth. She opened and closed her mouth around his sac, running her lips up and down the skin. Her right hand circled his cock and then began to move up and down its length, her sharp fingernail creating a thin line of blood spanning its length. She nipped his balls hard with her mouth, feeling his testicles jump along with the intense pleasure and pain that coursed through his mind. She moved her mouth to his prick and her hands to his balls. Her tongue began to circle Darth's other helmet as she gently squeezed and released his balls in a rhythmic motion. She then took the head of his cock in her mouth and tasted the sweet salty flavor of his precum on her tongue. She began to bob up and down on his shaft, her mouth encompassing more of its length on each cycle, her tongue moving faster and faster against its skin as she began to squeeze his balls harder and harder, feeling Gilopski's pleasure growing and growing as he neared the moment of release. She pressed her lips tighter and tighter against his cock with each motion until she felt his testicles ascend to pump his juice in her mouth. She released his cock then looked up at him. "Not quite yet, Darthie. You have to wait until you please Momma. Do you want to please Momma? Will you obey her every command?" The black helmet nodded once again. She stood up, unbuckled her copper bikini bottom, and threw it and the attached silk loincloth on the floor. She climbed on the bed and straddled Gilopski , pressing her wet cunt against his smooth skin. She inched her way up his body, leaving a moist trail on his chest. She seized the helmet, removed it from Gilopski's head and threw it on the floor next to her copper bikini bottom. She put her hand under Gilopski's chin and raised his head so that he was looking directly into Ariel's eyes. She could see that he felt all of her angelic power and was both excited and frightened by it. "If you wish your Princess to please you, you must first please her, obeying her every command," she whispered. "Are you ready to obey me, Alphonse?" Gilopski quickly nodded his head. She bent down and placed the point of her copper bra directly into Gilopski's eye. He gasped in pain. "I think you hurt my boobie with your eye, will you kiss it and make it better?" she asked him Gilopski nodded his head. Ariel lifted the copper cup from her breast and pressed her erect nipple straight into Gilopski's eye. She threw the bra next to the helmet and copper bottom on Gilopski's floor. She lifted both of her breasts and placed her hardened nipples against Gilopski's cheeks. She moved them down Gilopski's face and rubbed her left breast against Gilopski's lips. "Nip it," she said. Gilopski closed his lips around the protruding nipple and gently nipped it with his teeth. "Tug on it," Ariel commanded, and Gilopski took her nipple in his teeth and moved his mouth from side to side. "Thrash it," Ariel commanded, and Gilopski bit down hard into her flesh and began to move his head from side to side like a great white shark. The pain was exquisite, and she could feel her blood seeping into Gilopski's mouth. "Now the other one," she told him, lifting her right boob out of Gilopski's mouth and presenting the left. Gilopski bit down hard, clamping her taut nipple with his teeth and thrashed side-to-side as Ariel moaned in ecstasy. She took his head and pressed it more tightly against her breast. She lifted her breast from his mouth and lowered her lips to his. Her tongue found his tongue as they explored each other's mouths and she took his face in her hands, gently stroking his skin as she pressed her lips more firmly against his and her tongue slid teasingly in and out of her mouth. "Now you must serve your Princess. Are you ready to do that?" Gilopski nodded, and she slid further up his body and straddled his mouth with her legs. "Eat me," she said, and covered his mouth with her dripping cunt. His tongue reached up eagerly to lick the lips of her gash. Ariel pressed her cunt more firmly against him, and took his head in her hands to urge him onward. "Stick your tongue into me," she commanded, and he complied. His unexpectedly long tongue probed deeply into her vagina, and Ariel began to ride him, holding his head tightly as she bucked up and down as though she were riding a wild steer, releasing her juices onto his face with each motion. She slid down so that her clit was in his mouth. "Lap it like a dog," she told him and he did, licking it, gumming it, biting it, and clamping his lips on it as Ariel continued to ride him, forcing his head against her with her strong arms. Then she slid her cunt back up to his mouth. "Shove it in me," she told him, and lifted his head higher as he crammed his tongue as deeply into her as he could. She ground against him, bouncing up and down on his tongue and sliding her cunt up and down on his face as she worked her clit with her own fingers. Finally she came, holding his head tightly as she ground her cunt against him and screamed in ecstasy. After a few seconds' rest, she spun around on his face so that she was now facing his legs and offered him her ass. "Lick me," she said, and Gilopski obligingly stuck his tongue in her ass. She spread her cheeks for him, and said, "All the way in." Gilopski stuck his tongue as far as he could into her anus. She backed in against him and found her clit with her fingers. "Now move it up and down," she told him, and his tongue began to travel up and down her spread crack, while she worked her clit with her fingers. Each time he passed her anus, she pressed back into him and welcomed his surprisingly energetic tongue into her rectum. Then, she began to move her ass up and down and Gilopski licked her crack from top to bottom on each pass, as she feverishly worked her clit, feeling the sweat pouring around her naked back as she began to buck in ecstasy. Then she came, arching her back and shoving her ass firmly in Gilopski's face as her body became rigid in the throes of orgasm. As soon as it was over, she lifted her ass and covered Gilopski's face with her wet pussy. "Shove your nose up my cunt," she told him, and he complied. Desperately trying to ignore the distraction of Gilopski's Jean-Luc Picard poster on the opposite wall, she shoved her cunt backward, burying Gilopski's nose, and tilted her ass so that her clit brushed against Gilopsi's lips. "Take my clit into your mouth," she told him. As Gilopski's mouth reached for her bud, his nostrils became more deeply embedded in the most flesh of Ariel's cunt. He took her clit in his mouth and pressed his lips tightly over it. "Now lap it," she commanded, and his tongue began to devour her throbbing clit as she bent her torso down so that her hard nipples brushed again Gilopski's naked chest, while he continued to eat her like a ravenous wolf. She pressed her boobs hard against his flesh, as his embedded nose fucked her more deeply each time she bucked and his teeth tugged on her aching clit. Finally she cried out as she came, drowning Gilopski's nose in her juices as she pinned his head against the headboard of his bed. "Now for the main event," she said. Then she crawled down Gilopski's body, tracing her path down his torso with her tongue. She reached the tip of his still rock-hard penis and flicked away several drops of precum with her tongue. She teased him for a while, circling the head of his cock with her tongue and lifting her body so that only the tips of her soft breasts lay against skin. Her mouth moved gradually lower and lower, taking in more and more of his cock, as she reached out to grab his buttocks with her hands. She gave his buns one good squeeze as she impaled her mouth upon his cock, taking it in up to the root. She reached around to tease his crack with her fingers as she began to bob her head up and down on his shaft. She stuck two fingers in his rectum, as she began to bite and thrash his cock from side to side. Then she grabbed ahold of his butt cheeks, using them as leverage as she began to ram his cock violently into her throat. She straddled him, lifting his hard cock in her hands as she pressed her dripping cunt upon his abdomen. Then she rose up and mounted him, impaling herself deeply upon his cock. She seized his balls with both hands and began to bounce up and down on his cock as though it were a pogo stick, as she held and squeezed his balls. She telepathically joined her mind to his, and she could feel his virgin's pleasure as if it were her own. It rose through her mind like a golden light, a faint trace of the presence of the God that had long ago abandoned this realm. She grabbed his balls with her left hand and then moved her right hand to his cock, sliding it up and down his rod in time with her own thrusts as she rode him like a helpless steer. She withdrew his cock temporarily and circled its tip around the lips of her electrified vagina, rubbing it against her clit, teasing him in every way until she once again plunged it inside her. She bounced on it in a faster and faster rhythm and played with his balls with her hand, cupping them, pressing them against her, moving them from side to side, as she could feel his pleasure mounting. She rubbed his balls with her hand as she felt his cock grow even larger and his body arching up. His balls leaped in her hands as they pumped their essence deeply into her womb. They both lay there for awhile in the afterglow, her lips pressed against his leg, her wet cunt still surrounding his detumescent cock. Angel After quickly donning her clothes, such as they were, she unlocked the handcuffs, and turned to walk out the door. "Will I see you again?" he asked. She turned and gave him a smile. "In your dreams, Alphonse" she said, a promise that in this case might be literally true. His right hand rose in the Vulcan salute. Live long and prosper. She knew that she would unfortunately do the former, but she was somewhat doubtful about the latter. Standing outside Teddy Lee Hawker's door, Ariel trembled. She began to wonder about her own sanity, making a house call on a serial killer. She had been chasing more and more twisted minds lately. The more twisted the mind, the more intense the pleasure when that man's sickest fantasies came true. And she shared that pleasure, every last drop of it. She remembered when she came three days ago to a Mr. Samuel L. Friedman. She had presented herself as the albino dwarf of his fantasies. His dream girl. He gave her the standard greeting: "No, this is impossible. It can't be. You're not real." That lack did not prevent her from straddling his face, covering his nose and mouth with her dripping dwarf's adult size cunt. She twisted and moved from side to side, sliding her pussy all over his face until she released her bladder, its warm salty contents pouring into Friedman's eager mouth. He had swallowed her whole stream, and his body burned with intense pleasure, pleasure that he unknowingly broadcast straight into her soul. She filled his mouth with her piss again and again until she was spent. Even then she tore off Friedman's clothes, lifted him into his wheelchair and rode him, her alabaster breasts pressed against his skin, her dwarf arms reaching out to hold his shoulders, her dwarf's cunt milking his cock as she bounced faster and faster. Her mouth teased his nipples as he exploded, pumping his fluid deeply in her innermost passage. She lay against him for a while, her head only halfway up his chest, smiling in the afterglow of selfless pleasure. Teddy Lee Hawker was going to be an altogether different kettle of fish. His appetites ran to violence, torture and the control and extinction of human life. Oh well, Ariel thought, whatever rocks your boat. She pressed the doorbell to Hawker's flat. Hawker pressed his eye to the peephole. It couldn't be, he thought. The girl from last week. What did that TV reporter call her? Oh yes, Mary Sue Diamond. But he had killed her last week. Taught her meaning of true suffering before cutting her cheerleader's body into a hundred pieces, each one of which had been sent to an oceanic grave. But here was Diamond standing outside his apartment. Unless she had a twin sister, but the TV guy had never mentioned one. He quickly went to get what he needed before opening the door. As soon as the door opened and she took her first step into Hawker's apartment, Ariel's nose and mouth were covered with a drenched cloth. Ether, she thought, just before Teddy Lee Hawker released her face and hit her upside the head with a baseball bat for good measure. No sense in taking chances, Hawker thought. He was going to play this one by the book. A book that he himself had written. Ariel woke up to find herself strapped to an apparatus resembling a gynecologist's examining table. Her head was immobilized by some kind of locking device. Her arms were strapped, no make that nailed, to boards on each side of her. Her ass was raised and mechanically spread, and her feet were locked into place with some sort of stirrups. She could tell from her aching cunt that Hawker had assaulted her several times already. Judging from the depth of her wound, not all of the assaults had been carried out with Hawker's prick. He undoubtedly was a fastidious cleaner with an ample supply of mops and brooms. "I see we are awake at last," Hawker said. "Good. I want you to enjoy this as much as I myself have over these past few hours. He walked around to the front of the device and stood before her strapped head, his rigid cock jutting out and ready to stab her. He rubbed his cock all over Ariel's face, shoving into her nose and bringing it down and rubbing it against her dry lips. "I think I am going to fuck your eye now. Would you like that, for me to fuck your eye?" he asked, ramming his organ against her left eye. "You didn't answer me. I asked would you like that, you filthy whore?" Hawker grabbed her strapped head and nodded it up and down. "I thought so," he said. "But first we have to get it ready to welcome my magnificent cock. Hawker pulled out a sharp knife and brought it up to Ariel's eyeball, prying it out of its socket so that it hung with only the optic nerve to tether it to Ariel's brain. He battered Ariel's bleeding empty socket with his cock for a few seconds before trying a new game. He grabbed the dangling left eyeball and turned it to face her thus far intact right eye. Ariel was aware of two fields of vision, seeing the extracted eye with her good one and dimly viewing her face with her former left eye. "Here's looking at you, kid!" Hawker said, giggling hysterically as he showed the dangling eyeball the dark bleeding socket in which it had formerly resided. Unable to contain himself any longer, Hawker ran around the table and rammed his steel hard cock in to Ariel's aching cunt and the upper dildo he was wearing deeply into her ass. He pulled on the chains leading to the nipple clamps on Ariel's already bleeding breasts and used them as reins as he began to ride her ass like a bucking bronco. The pain mixed with Hawker's intense, demented pleasure was exquisite. Ariel was almost frustrated when he came so soon. But she knew more was coming. She heard the sound of a chain saw being started behind her. That couldn't be good. "I cut you up last time after you were dead," Hawker said, "but that wasn't good enough for you, was it bitch? This time I'm going to do it while you still alive." "Sounds like a plan," Ariel told him, a remark that was not likely to help Teddy Lee Hawker in dealing with his anger management issues. He brought the chain saw down on Ariel's head, cleaving her skull as though it were butter. Hawker leaned forward to admire his handiwork. He could see each delicate convolution of her still-smoking brain, which was split in half and lying side by side like the two halves of an open cantaloupe. "OK, now you're starting to piss me off," Ariel said through what was left of her mouth. Incredibly, she turned her head to face him, breaking the clamps that had held it in place. Her brain and face suddenly reunited, seeming to zip themselves closed. Her dangling eyeball retreated into its socket, like a piece of spaghetti being sucked into a kid's mouth. She raised her arms, breaking the boards to which they had been nailed, then rose to stand naked before him. She wagged her right finger at him. "That was not very nice," she told him. "That was definitely a no-no." She clapped her hands against his temples, imbedding the nails that pierced them into the sides of his skull. She forced him to sit down in the easy chair, and brought her lips close to his. "You may find this a little warm," she told him, and breathed hellfire into his mouth. She stood back as the flames poured out of his eyes, ears, nose, and other orifices too delicate to mention in an account intended for general audiences. His skull cracked open sufficiently to allow the flames from his burning brain to escape their prison. Soon his whole body was consumed by the fires burning within it. After a few moments, all that was left of Teddy Lee Hawker was a pile of ashes in the easy chair and the all-too-familiar sulfur reek of brimstone permeating the room. Yet another case of spontaneous human combustion, Ariel thought. Let's see if the boys at the Skeptical Inquirer can debunk this one. The naysayers have it right, she mused. Hell is literally a place on Earth. Mainly, the whole planet. And she was a fallen angel. But this old sphere definitely has its moments. She smiled as she closed the door behind her. Angel She took out her phone, flipped it open, scrolled down to the messaging menu and sent a text to him. It was only three words 'on my way'. Putting the phone down she put the car into drive. Before reaching even the first stop light her phone dinged indicating a new text. Once she reached the light she stopped the car and grabbed the phone to read the text. 'Door Is unlocked come straight upstairs'. Smiling she put the phone down. She smiled for two reasons the first was the anticipation of what would happen once she reached his house. The second she knew she should text him back right away to acknowledge that she understood his instructions, but she didn't. They both new the game she played and she knew every second that she didn't reply he'd get a little more irritated. She loved pushing his buttons but not to the point of true anger. He would send another then she would be in trouble, possibly even punished tonight. Sighing she picked up the phone to text him back but as she flipped open the phone it dinged again. Wincing she read the text, 'Did you get my text?'. Know that if she wanted to she could lie and tell him she couldn't read it because she was driving but she would never lie to him about anything, and he knew that she did text and drive sometimes. So she replied 'Yes', a second later the phone dinged. 'Ok' was his reply. Knowing she was in trouble she put the phone down and continued to his house. She no longer smiled but still the anticipation was still there because she knew that he would never truly hurt her. She pulled up in front of his house parking the car at the curb. She got out and made her way to the door. Letting herself in she set the car keys down on the table and made her way upstairs. Turning at the corner of the banister she stopped to take in the sight. The lights were off except for the strand of white lights that hung from the ceiling casting their dim light around the room making it look eerie. At the other side of the room the futon was in its couch form with him sitting in the middle of it. He wore an all black t-shirt and jean, his feet were bare. His elbows were resting on his knees, his hands together as if in prayer, with his forehead resting on his fingertips. In the middle of the room were pillows laid out almost like a bed. "Angel," he said to acknowledge she was there, but didn't look up. She took a step toward him. "Stop!" He said forcefully. "Did I tell you to come here?" "No," She said quietly. He looked up at her and said one word. "Undress." Looking at him she knew that he was upset about the texts, so she obeyed and began taking off her clothes. His eyes never left her, he just watched her as each piece of skin was revealed. After the last piece of clothing was discarded she stood there waiting for him to give her the next direction. Several minutes went by, "Why didn't you text me back?" Knowing better than to give the real reason and refusing to lie she simply stayed silent. Finally sighing he motioned with his finger, "Come here." She walked toward him stopping right in front of him. He looked up at her and faster than she realized he reached up and grabbed her nipple. She hissed from the sudden and unexpected pain, but he ignored her and tugged her by the nipple until her face was next to his. "That was very naughty." He whispered in her ear as his other hand reached up and began twisting, pinching, and pulling on her other nipple. "What do you have to say for yourself?" "Sorry," she whispered, but it wasn't good enough for him. He pinched a little harder. "What did you say?" The pain was beginning to get uncomfortable but she replied anyway, "I'm sorry." She said louder. "Better, I'm going to let go do not move." He let go of her nipples and as instructed she didn't move, just stayed bent over. He got up and moved behind her. As he walked behind her he ran his fingers lightly down her back and over her ass. He grabbed her hair and pulled until she was standing straight up with her head tilted back. "As I said that was naughty and what happens to naughty girls?" He said in her ear. He waited a couple seconds then pulled a little harder on her hair, "Well?" "They're punished." "That's right they are." He dragged her by her hair over to the wall and put her back against it. "Stay just like that." She watched him walk over to the other side of the room and grab a belt, anal beads, and clothes pins. He set the belt over his shoulder, he had a very intense look in his eyes as he walked back towards her. He began by tweaking her nipples once he was happy he clamped the clothes pins one on each nipple. He played with them for a few minutes before trailing his hand down her stomach reaching between her legs he started stroking her clit. After kissing her senseless he removed his had making her groan. "Not a sound! Now turn around, put your hands on the wall, and stick that ass out." She stood there with her hands on the wall and her ass sticking out just like he instructed listening to him move about behind her. Waiting for the first blow to land she was surprised when she felt something hard and wet against her asshole and knew it was the anal beads. "Now I know you can take all of these." The first few balls went in extremely easily however he had to use a little more force to get the rest in. Once they were all in he tugged on the loop a little moving it around he loved tormenting her like this. He released the loop, "Keep them all in." He stepped back and she knew what was coming next. The first blow from his gloved hand landed it stung but didn't hurt. He ran his hand around her ass then landed a blow on the other cheek. This continued for about ten or so swats, he again ran his hand around her ass again. But this time when the blow landed it wasn't his hand it was the belt. She sucked in air. "Are you ok?" He asked, she knew he didn't want to cause her real harm. She nodded her head and again the blows began to land alternating with the belt and him lightly running his hand over her ass. "I love how red your ass turns when I give you a spanking. But I think that should be enough for you to have learned your lesson. What do you think, have you learned your lesson?" He said as he grabbed her chin and turned her head toward him. She nodded and made a uh huh sound. "Good, but I'm not completely finished yet put your hands behind your back." As soon as her hands we behind her back he tied them together. He turned her completely around and pointed to the pillows piled on the floor. "Go lay down on your back." She did as she was told. He came over to her and kneeled by her legs, "Spread em." She heard a buzzing noise then felt as he put the bullet on her clit. "Don't cum." He moved it around her clit for a few moments before sliding it inside of her. Then stood up. Looking down at her he could tell she was ready to cum but that was part of the fun. "You are not allowed to cum, do not make any noise." He said in a firm tone and watched as her eyes widened a little. "I will be back in a little bit. While I am gone think about what you have done to get you into this position and what you can do in the future to prevent it." He turned around and headed toward the stairs. Before he descended the stairs he turned around and looked at her. "Remember no noise and do not cum I will know if you do. Oh and when I return the bullet and beads better still be inside you." With that he walked down the stairs. She rolled her eyes and sighed and began thinking to herself 'ok so he could just be going down to use the bathroom and be right back up, or he could stay down and talk to the roommates for a bit, or maybe even go out for a cigarette which means he could be gone for almost ten minutes. Hell if he really wanted to he might just do all three! Gods I hope not I don't know how long I'll last.' She began moving her legs and squirming around. After what felt like an hour to her he finally returned. He kneeled beside her again and started playing with the clothes pins on her nipples making her squirm even more. He spread her legs and his now ungloved fingers up and down her pussy. "So wet, I bet you're just dying to cum." She nodded almost frantically. "Lets see how much longer you can last." She wanted to cry she was so frustrated all she wanted to do was cum. He stood up and moved to the chair in the corner of the room and just sat there watching her. After a few seconds she began to plead and beg that he let her cum, but he continued to deny her. He got up and undressed she hoped this was a sign that he was going to let her cum. "Get on your knees." She did and he moved behind her and got on his knees. He played with the beads a little more before pulling them out. He grabbed her hair again and pulled her until her back was against his front. "I'm very proud of you so far, but there is something I want tonight that I have never really taken before." He whispered in her ear. "Your ass. Do you think you can take my hard cock in your ass?" She nodded her head. "Good girl but if it begins to be too much for you, you know your safe word do not be afraid to use it. I don't want to cause you harm." She nodded again he let go of her hair and pushed her down on her hands. He spread her ass cheeks and she felt the pressure against her hole. Finally after adding a little more force he entered her ass. It burned like crazy and hurt but she gritted her teeth hoping the pain would go away. He felt her tense up and stayed still after he felt her relax a bit he pulled out a little then pushed back in a little he continued to do this until his cock was all the way in her ass. "Are you ok?" He asked. She shook her head yes. "Then say it." "I'm ok," she said "Please my love continue." He pulled back out then pushed back in every time adding a little more speed and a little more force each time. He grabbed her hair pulling her head back. "Do you want to cum?" "Yes" she breathed. "Do you need to cum? "Yes" "Then beg me." "Please please let me cum." She was panting and it was hard to get the words out. "I don't know if I want to let you." He smiled. "Oh gods please let me cum my love!" "Cum for me! Now!" She didn't need anything more than that to push her over the edge. The combination of the vibe, the clothes pins, him pounding into her ass, and those words all combined. She came harder than she ever had before. Shortly after she felt him tense up his movements stopping as he poured his seed into her ass. They stayed that way for a little bit just trying to catch their breath. He chuckled a little reached down between her legs and pulled the bullet out. Turning it off he set it aside. "It was tickling me." He laid down next to her and pulled her next to him cuddling her and stroking her hair. "I love you so much." He said placing a kiss on her forehead. "I love you too but.....ocean water." They both laughed. "I don't think I could take anymore right now I feel just wow." "I know." They laid there cuddling and stroking each other for a little while. "I want you to know that I'm really proud of you. I didn't think you could take it but you did." She looked up at him, "Thank you my love but I don't think I'm gonna do much sitting for a bit, my butt hurts." He chuckled, "I bet it does baby." She reached up and kissed him, he returned the kiss with equal passion. He moved on top of her spreading her legs with his knee all the while kissing her. He slid himself inside her and made slow sweet love to her, hoping she could feel how much he loved her, and she hoped the same. ********** A big thank you to the one who gave me inspiration to write this!!!!! Angel It was one of those low one-story buildings made of corrugated tin, hugging an exit ramp by the interstate. Thousands of cars breezed past it every day and not one person actually noticed it. No windows, one door facing away from the road. A couple of rusting propane tanks had settled in a nest of weeds on one end of the building. It was here that he took her, after the kidnapping. He had visited the building nearly every day for the past two months, preparing it for its guest, and by now he felt pretty darn comfortable that no one would ever think to look here for a missing girl. People do not look directly at what they cannot see; he had learned that the lonely way. And so he planned with mounting excitement. Blankets for the winter. Fans for the summer. Books on tape. A refrigerator stocked with fruits and vegetables, for she would be kept healthy, his lovely guest. She would be happy here, and perhaps, over time, she would learn to love him as he loved her. One day late in August, his plans fell into place. As he pulled off the frontage road and onto the dusty one-lane leading up to the building, he was sweating and more than a little pissed off. She had struggled more than he had expected. She had torn his shirt and landed a few well-placed kicks when he invited her into the back seat of his car. He was shocked at the rude response to his hospitality, but no matter...once she realized how thoughtful his accommodations were, she would come around. He killed the engine and went to the trunk, ignoring the stream of swearing from the back seat. There were a few more bags of last minute items. Milk, fresh donuts, a couple more rolls of duct tape. One can never have too much duct tape. Who the hell does this guy think he is? He looks so familiar. I know I've seen him, more than once. Stupid little shifty-eyed motherfucker. Before he gets a chance to touch me, I'm gonna kick his stupid balls right off. Stay focused. He's not smart enough to cover all his bases. Wait for the moment. She seemed particularly reluctant to escape from the heat into the cool dim interior of the storage building. He couldn't understand this, although he remained patient as he escorted her into her new home. He'd planned to show her around, give her a tour of the place, but he was getting exhausted from the constant struggling. Maybe just let her rest for a bit, get used to being here, and then she'd be a little more eager to explore. He brought her to the cage. When she caught sight of it, the swearing escalated into a surprisingly persistent scream. This had to stop. He was quite sure there was no one within hearing distance, but still, it was foolhardy to chance it. He had had the foresight to leave the cage door open. Now he forced her inside, and ducking his head, followed her in. Once, twice, three times he circled the roll of tape around her mouth and head until there was nothing but a blessed silence. Then scooping her into his arms like a child, he plopped her down onto the mound of pillows in the corner of the cage. He watched her breathing for a moment, then left the cage, careful to lock it behind him as he returned to the car to close the doors. God, my wrists hurt. How is this happening? Little shit is stronger than he looks. How the HELL is this happening? I will be out of here before night. Nothing's going to happen. You don't give a person pillows if you're planning to kill them, right? Unless the pillows were for the last girl, the one he killed. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Stay calm. Breathe. Breathe. Wait. He stood by the cage, staring thoughtfully down at her. She was finally still, panting, spent. Her wrists were tightly bound behind her, her ankles strapped together. She lay on her side, glaring up at him. Pity that such a beautiful woman should have such hostile eyes. His detailed plans for their first night together might have to be put on hold, thanks to his guest's unexpected independent streak. He decided to remain flexible and patient with her. There was too much at stake here, he had planned for too long, and he had nothing, nothing at all, but time. He stood silent, feet planted apart, waiting for her breathing to return to normal. At last he pulled the key from his pocket and removed the padlock from the cage door. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, he entered the cage again. Her eyes narrowed and she tried to squirm away as he knelt at her side. He grabbed a handful of hair and twisted, until she had no choice but to look up at him. For the first time since forcing her into the back seat, he spoke to her. "I'm going to take the tape off now. Be quiet. Don't scream again, do you understand me?" He could see the wheels turning behind her eyes as she weighed her options. He stared hard into her, waiting, until her eyelids lowered in defeat. Taking this quiet acceptance at face value, he pulled a small knife from his pocket and carefully sliced through the layers of tape along one side of her face. She held perfectly still, barely breathing, until the tape was abruptly peeled away from her mouth. Gasping in a huge mouthful of air, she let out a howl of rage, startling him so that he stumbled back on his heels, dropping the knife. Quickly gathering himself, he grabbed her from behind, his hand clamped over her mouth, other arm around her neck in a firm headlock. He closed his eyes for a moment and focused, breathing slowly, before leaning down to speak softly near her ear. "That was a huge mistake. You get one chance to do what I tell you to do. I wanted this to be nice for you, for your sake. Don't you understand that? Now, no water till morning." Immediately he could feel a relaxing of her muscles, a despair that expressed itself in her very bones as she sagged against him. Now he relaxed his grip against her mouth, slowly taking his hand away. She was quiet, strangely quiet. He laid her on the hard floor and left the cage for a moment, returning with a soft white cloth and the roll of tape. He anticipated repeated applications of tape for a few days, and did not, after all, want to remove her soft skin along with it. This was a quick solution, as he had no doubts that her surrender was short-lived. She would roar back to life soon, but for now she lay still, shell-shocked, as he wound a strip of the cloth around her head, covering her face from the nostrils down. A thorough wrapping of tape followed the cloth. He checked her wrists and ankles again, thought about moving her to the large pillow, and decided against it. Let her lie on the bare floor all night. Maybe her mood would improve. Gathering the tape roll and his pocket knife from the floor, he locked the cage behind him. He methodically tidied up, putting away the groceries. He glanced at her once before leaving, but she stared into the distance and refused to meet his gaze. He drove through the sultry evening, stopping at Burger King before turning toward home and a marathon of sci-fi movies. It was hard to lose himself in fantasy tonight though, with the awareness of his very own captive who was waiting for his return. Twice he had to pause the movie, jerking off into the greasy jumble of fast food napkins on the couch around him, the image of her limp body lying in the cage burning into his mind's eye. Shit...so thirsty. Should've taken the water while I could. But it's probably laced. I might HAVE to take it anyway. Does he really think he's gonna leave me in here all night? It's so hot, if I die of heat and thirst in this damn cage I'm gonna kill him! And there'll be spiders in this building, I know it. Just calm down, c'mon, you can do this. Relax your muscles, relax your mind. He'll be back. At first light his car was turning down the dusty lane again. He'd found himself too eager to come and see her, to see how she'd fared the night, to wait any longer. It took several moments for his eyes to adjust to the dusk inside. He went to the northern corner of the warehouse, the tiny office where the manager's desk had once sat, and flicked on a light. He saw that she had managed to wiggle her way over to the largest pillow, and was laying half on it, her hips and legs still on the cold metal floor of the cage. Judging by the tangled mass of her hair, she had thrashed around considerably during the night. She peered up at him silently from under the mess. Her expression was unreadable, but her body language sang of defeat. He'd been fooled once before though, and that wasn't happening again. She was a beautiful and untrustworthy creature, and the gag and bonds were not coming off until she might be able to prove herself. She did, however, need to drink, eat, and move around a little, lest he have bigger problems on his hands. He unlocked and entered the cage. With an unnecessary show of roughness, he looped his hands behind her elbows and pulled her to her feet. She moaned in pain as her cramped muscles adjusted, but he steeled himself to ignore her discomfort. He must not, could not, show any weakness at this point. She was completely dependent on him for all creature comforts, and the sooner she learned that, the better. He stood behind her, steadying her, until she reoriented to being on her feet. Without a word he bent and removed the shackles from her ankles. Gripping one elbow, he led her out of the cage and to the small bathroom by the manager's office. This was the one place she could do no harm. The room was windowless, airless, a toilet and dirty sink, with a bare bulb above a smudged and ancient mirror. At the door he took off her wrist shackles and shoved her inside. "You have five minutes. I don't recommend wasting them trying to get the tape off your mouth." I'm too tired to fight him right now, damn it. First time I'm free and it's all I can do to move my arms and legs. Please let this not be my only chance. I can't do it. I'm so fucking tired, achy, hungry, thirsty. Fucking left me on the floor in the dark all night. Listening to the traffic for how many hours, and screaming inside my head for someone to know where I am. He's a satanic little fuck. But I'm so tired. So tired. Just do as he says for right now, and later I can kick his ass and get out of here. He stood at the closed door and counted down. When he opened it, to his surprise she stood simply waiting, arms at her sides. He cocked his head to one side and stared at her for a long moment. She seemed...different, somehow, this morning. Some of the fight had gone out of her eyes. He longed to believe that she had mellowed, that during the long night she had realized how carefully he had planned this special place for her to live, to be his own. But there was also the distinct possibility that she was a sneaky little bitch who had lain all night in a cage taking acting lessons from her anger. Either way, he wasn't quite ready to trust her yet. And he needed to get to work. He gestured "Come on" and she followed him out of the bathroom. He took her wrists, binding them behind her again. There was no resistance. He led her to the small card table, and pushed her down into one of the chairs. Retrieving the ankle restraints from the cage, he looped them around a table leg and snapped them onto her ankles. Standing before her, he put one finger under her chin and pulled her face up. "I'd like to let you have something to eat and drink now. It's your choice. You can be quiet, or you can go all day with no water. Understand?" She nodded. "And in case you think I'm not serious, remember how you just spent the night. One chance. No kidding." She nodded again, harder than before. Her eyes pled for something. Relenting, he pulled his knife out and cut the tape in one slice from the back of her neck. As the tape and cloth fell away, she gulped in deep clean breaths. He went to the fridge and retrieved a bottle of water, a cup of yogurt, and a peach. Sitting in the chair opposite, he fed her. Hmm. Would you look at that? He's actually quite gentle for a homicidal maniac. As he watched her gulp down an entire bottle of water, it occurred to him that he might need to leave work on his lunch break and come to the warehouse to allow her to use the bathroom. Like a new puppy, he thought, and was surprised when the idea sent a rush of blood to his cock. When she had finished eating, he stood behind her chair and once again applied the makeshift gag, a cloth wrapped first over her face. She struggled against this, and he quietly said, "I'm sorry," as he held her head in position and wrapped it in tape. Then unfastening her ankle cuffs, he took her back to the cage. It was 7:00 a.m., and the warehouse was still cool. As the day wore on, the cheap metal walls would heat unbearably. He had arranged several large fans around the cage, and now he stood her at the door and, pulling the knife from his pocket again, cut the jeans and shirt off her. Her eyes widened in fear as he pulled the clothing away from her, and he tried not to stare too much at her skin. He bent and tugged off her shoes and socks. Once down to bra and panties, she stood defiantly facing him, bracing herself for more violation. But he spun her around and pushed her into the cage, prodding along until she sat on the heap of pillows in one corner. Cuffing her ankles, checking to make sure her nostrils were clear of the homemade gag, he locked the cage door again. So I'm alone again in here. At least there's daylight. I can handle this as long as I can see what else is in this godforsaken place. And at least I got to walk around a little, have some water and food. As much as I hate him looking at me, it's so much cooler like this. That breeze feels friggin' good. Once I figure out what that little weasel wants from me, it'll come to me how to get out of here. For now, all I want to do is curl up in these pillows and sleep. And the pillows do smell clean. God, this guy is weird. So his routine began, with one deviation. He hadn't planned on dashing to the warehouse at lunchtime; it meant he had to pack a lunch and eat as he drove. The plan was to leave her during the day, and enjoy her at night. But he hadn't counted on the necessity of the gag, nor on binding her wrists and ankles once inside the cage. These measures required more supervision. Once she came to terms with the facts – no one could hear her, and the cage was inescapable – they would become unnecessary. So he stopped in at lunchtime, following the same sequence as for breakfast. The bathroom for five minutes, then cuffed to the table while she ate a sandwich, then back into the cage. He was inclined to give her some exercise before immobilizing her again, but time did not allow it. All afternoon he thought of her while his hands were absentmindedly occupied on the assembly line. She would be well rested after napping all day; she was being well fed; her strength would be back. Contrary to his expectations, she was not at all pleased with her living arrangements. This was inconceivable. He was unresponsive to his co-workers' chatter as he worked on new plans. He began that night. The day was cooling as he brought bags of take-out into the warehouse. Setting them on the table, he walked to the cage and stood over her. She stared impassively up at him. He wondered idly if her expressions would be easier to read if he could see her entire face. Her eyes alone gave away nothing. "How was your day, Angel?" he asked. She blinked and stared. Fine. He turned on his heel and returned to the food. Sitting alone at the table he ate slowly and thoughtfully, never taking his eyes off of her. His scrutiny seemed to make her uncomfortable; he noticed after the first few minutes that she stared down, at the walls, to the side...anything to avoid his gaze. Once he finished eating, he came back to the cage, pulling her to her feet without a word. He unlocked her ankle cuffs and removed the gag, saving the wrist cuffs to be removed just outside the bathroom door, and applied again the moment she emerged. One of the new decrees was that she would never eat with him, only after he was done. Another was that conversation would be a rare gift, one that she would have to earn. This heartless approach was not part of the original plan, but neither was her lack of compliance. There was a treadmill in the corner. Leading her to it, he pointed wordlessly at it. She stood staring at him numbly. "Get on, now!" he growled at her. She jumped slightly, but climbed on. He clicked her wrists shackles to the handles, turned the machine to a low setting, and walked away, giving her no choice but to keep up. He sat at the kitchen table, pulled a second beer from the bag, and tipped back in his chair to observe her. She was wearing a bikini and bra in a soft gray jersey material. She was in good shape; he credited all those hours of jogging while he watched from a distance. Her hair was tangled from hours of lying on the pillows. He'd never washed a woman's hair before. Guess it was time to learn now. No way in hell was he ready to take the cuffs off yet. And her mouth, which had been so ripe with profanities just twenty-four hours ago, was strangely silent. She walked steadily on the machine, her head bent down, watching her feet, refusing to look at him. What the hell? Did I not say this guy is weird? Who the fuck kidnaps a woman and makes her work out? Whatever! Could be worse. Just keep quiet and keep walking. After silently watching her for fifteen minutes, he suddenly stood, downed the rest of his beer, and went to the treadmill. He switched it off, unclasped her cuffs, and pulled her by a wrist to the table, where he fed her a barely-warm cheeseburger. Again he watched while she guzzled an entire bottle of water. Little fucking camel, this one, he thought. He had rigged a tub against the wall by the manager's office. There'd been a rickety old laundry-style sink there, which he had ripped out and replaced with a claw-foot tub he got for next to nothing at an estate sale. He had tried it out once, and except for the fact that the water would never pass for hot, it was a comfortable soak. He started filling the tub as his captive sat at the table watching. Finally, she found her voice. "I'm not taking a bath with you here watching, so unless that water's for you, save it, Mister," she said. He turned from his perch on the side of the tub, raised an eyebrow at her, and continued filling. A note of panic crept into her voice. "I mean this. I'm not. I will NOT take a bath in this dump." He turned again. "Quiet. Please." At that, her insolence sprang back into life, and she let loose with such a stream of defiance that he was forced to walk to the table, grab the duct tape, and apply a healthy strip directly over her mouth, with no cushioning layer of cloth to protect her skin. He pulled her mass of snarled hair into a ponytail and used it as a handle to drag her over to the tub. Holding her in place by her hair, he grabbed a wrist cuff and locked it onto the exposed plumbing next to the tub. Only when she was secured did her release her hair, reaching into his pocket for his knife. Hooking a finger into the front of her bra, he yanked her toward him. His knife sliced downward through the material and the bra fell to the floor. The gray panties received the same treatment, and he kicked them out of the way. She whimpered behind the tape at the realization that she was now bared to him. He ordered her into the tub, and after a moment's hesitation, she complied. He pulled down on her arm to force her to sit, and attached the cuff to the D ring he'd mounted on the lip of the tub. Leaving her sitting there to glare at him, he returned to the table to clear away the food containers, and found the perfect solution for the lack of a shower head...an empty mega-sized Burger King cup. He rinsed it out in the bathroom, then came back to the tub, and kneeling, scooped up a cupful of warm water and dumped it unceremoniously over her head. Angel What the HELL. What is wrong with this man? He's fucking waterboarding me...why did he bother to feed me if he was planning to drown me like a naked rat? Please not again! C'mon, please. Please. Please? He noted with some small measure of glee that her body went more limp and compliant with each succeeding cup of water. Her chin tucked down to her chest in an attempt to keep the water out of her eyes. With his free hand, he cupped her chin and pulled her face upward, just enough to ensure that it got a thorough washing as well. Her tightly closed eyes and accelerated breathing told him she was beginning to panic at the water cascading down her face, so after one more cupful, he relented and directed the flow into her hair instead. Once it was fully wet, he released her face and proceeded to lather up her hair. Unused to washing long hair, his fingers tangled miserably, and more than once her whimpers through the duct tape made him ease up on the vigorous scrubbing of her scalp. Once her hair seemed passably clean, he again tipped her head back and poured water over her hair until it ran mostly clear of suds. Moving his attention to the rest of her, he scrubbed down her body with a rough sponge. He noticed her eyes remained squinted shut as she quietly submitted to his detailed cleaning. He spoke not a word, but directed her with his hands, and for once she stayed where he placed her, almost frozen in place until he moved her again. Satisfied with his work, he pulled the plug on the drain, unhooked her wrists, and hauled her to her feet. He gave her a quick and halfhearted rubdown with a towel before having her step out onto the bare concrete floor. Noticing now that her skin was covered in goosebumps, even in the warmth of the August night, he circled behind her and gave her hair more attention with the towel, drying it as best he could. Standing behind her, he found he could no longer resist the temptation to use her, the inspiration for all his hard work on this cozy warehouse home. The towel fell to the floor between them, as he turned her to face him. His hands slid down quickly to grab both wrists, and pulling her hands above her head, he clipped them to one of the many hooks hanging from the ceiling beams throughout the building. When he pushed her to her knees, her arms were pulled taut, but he silently balanced her obvious discomfort against the towel cushioning her knees from the cement floor. Life is balance, he thought. In one swift motion, he pulled the tape from her mouth. She cried out once in surprise and pain. He unzipped his pants and offered her his cock, not expecting appreciation, not feeling disappointed when he didn't receive it. He pulled her face back towards him when she arched away, his thumb pressing against her stubborn lips and teeth until she had no choice but to open her mouth. He fucked into her mouth roughly with his thumb, finally using it to hold her chin down as he entered her mouth. Holding her head in both hands, he pressed himself into her throat, over and over, relenting occasionally to let her catch her breath, until with a final thrust he poured all of his years of anger at every girl who never gave him a second glance into the back of her throat, holding her head in place until he was spent. He left her kneeling there, arms stretched high above, as he tidied up the table and rinsed the bathtub. When he glanced over, he saw her weight sagging against the cuffs. He noted with a wicked glint in the eye that this was the first time she had been without her duct tape gag, and yet she remained quiet. It was perfection. Satisfied with his tidying, he walked slowly back to her, unhooked her wrists and brought them down. He pulled them behind her back and clipped them together, before nudging her firmly in the direction of the cage. Once inside, he snapped her ankle cuffs together again before lowering her gently to the pillows. He wrapped a thin strip of cloth around her mouth and head before applying a healthy amount of tape. Standing over her as she lay on her side, naked except for her bonds, he spoke for the first time since before her bath. "Goodnight, Angel." And with that, he turned, locking the cage and leaving the warehouse in darkness as he drove home. That night, for the first time in a very long time, he slept deeply and without interruption, and wakened feeling like a king. This is not happening to me. It may happen to my body, but it is not happening to me. Why aren't they finding me by now? I miss Mom, I miss Brain and Beth and Jesse. Why aren't they looking for me, dammit? I just want to go home. The next morning he followed the routine: bathroom break, breakfast and water, then back into the cage, repeating it at noon, speaking only when absolutely necessary. He communicated through tugs on her restraints or her arms, through small shoves when she didn't walk quickly enough to suit him, and through the occasional grunt. These daytime visits were by necessity only, and there was no time to enjoy her as he would've liked, although he squeezed a great deal of pleasure out of her growing dependence on him. He was extremely pleased that evening when he showed up to let her out of the cage for a longer period, and saw how relieved she seemed, how eager she was to climb onto the treadmill and stretch her cramped muscles. Her relief was temporary, however, for after her dinner and her bath, he promptly pulled her to the table, bent her over it, and took her roughly from behind. From that point on, he used her whenever he liked, however he liked. He had not given her any more clothing, reveling in the fact that it was, for now, warm enough that she could be kept nude and available. In the back of his mind lurked the nagging thought that soon he'd have to give her warm clothing, or else find a way to heat the warehouse. Maybe if I am just still, just let it happen...it will be over quickly and he will leave. Fuck it, I don't want him to leave...leaving means I'm alone in the dark, in the cage, all night again. How can I get him to stay here for a while, and not do THIS to me? Can't he just talk like a normal person? Can't he just fucking BE a normal person? Days passed. He was intoxicated by his secret knowledge, moving through his mundane tasks in a happy daze. Work had never been so productive. Stopping on the way home to pick up groceries for the warehouse, he caught himself humming in the produce department. He had never hummed, he realized, never in a lifetime. He looked in the mirror and felt taller. Then he forgot to lock the cage. It was a Tuesday, late in September. On his lunch break, he had brought in supplies. He'd had to make three trips to the car to lug in bags of food and extra blankets. On his third return to the warehouse, he dropped his load of blankets just inside the door, closed and locked it, and turned to look at his captive. She was sitting cross-legged in the cage, staring at him. Something was off. Something in the way she was looking at him. Several heartbeats passed before he realized what he'd just done. He had unlocked the cage, let her use the bathroom, returned her to the cage just long enough to allow him to bring in supplies. Forgot to lock it. The warehouse door had been propped open. The September sun and breeze were flowing through the wide doors. How stupid of him. His bird could have flown. But she hadn't. He felt nauseous. He dropped to one of the kitchen chairs when his legs threatened to betray him, leaned his elbows on the table until he could think. There was no plan for what he would do if she escaped. He thought he had covered all the bases, and escape had not occurred to him. He must come up with something, NOW, must think of something. He knew he was looking at some serious time on several counts if she got away and reported everything. Even more troubling, all his planning would be for nothing, if she got away. If she got away....but she hadn't. His hands dropped from his face as he swiveled to look at her. She sat immobile in the same cross-legged pose, looking at him. He suddenly knew that what he did next would impact their future. If only he knew what to do. Standing slowly, he went to the cage, opened it, and entered. Her hands were still cuffed behind her back, but the ankle restraints he had left off when he returned her to the enclosure. She watched warily as he circled behind her. He removed the cuffs, then the tape gag. Leaving the cage door pointedly ajar, he left it momentarily and returned with a bottle of water, an energy bar, and a book he'd selected from the stack on the floor. Setting these items in front of her, he backed out of the cage, sliding the big padlock into place with a loud click. He was careful to lock the warehouse doors as well, and didn't allow himself a deep breath until he was seated in his car. Something had shifted, and he needed time to think, time to figure out what it was and whether he liked it. I've gotten accustomed to the silence, that's all it is. That's why I didn't grab at the chance to get the hell out of here. In my old life I had to talk all day, stupid banal conversations with people I don't care about. It's such a relief to just be silent, not to be asked how my weekend was or whether it's supposed to rain. I'm not responsible for anything, in this cage. That's all it is. By evening his guard was up again, back where it should be, and he wrapped the ropes a little tighter than necessary around her legs, her arms, her throat, as he used her body. It was imperative right now to show her that he was not growing soft. Sure, he had rewarded her for not bolting, but let that not be mistaken for weakness. And he could read it in her response...she knew now how the game was to be played. The more brutally he treated her, the more compliant she became. And the more compliant she became, the more he spoiled her, bringing her another book when she finished the first one, allowing her another blanket when the nights got cooler. Without language, he tamed her. With whips and cuffs and duct tape, he owned her. Through the winter he coached her, until she was lost in her new identity. The day came when he sat at the rickety kitchen table and called her by her old name, and saw no recognition in her eyes. But when he crooked a finger and said, "Angel, come," she unhooked her cage door and crawled to him willingly on hands and knees, settling at his feet and smiling up at him. She was content. For the first time in his life, he had purpose. But inside all the cars rushing past on the highway outside, in a frenetic search for happiness, not a single person knew the simple joy that comes from being where you are supposed to be. Even if where you belong is inside a cage. Angel That was her name, Angel, the meanest woman on Earth. She had made a fortune trafficking in women, children and drugs but had not caught our attention until she began to traffic in weapons. Angel was a public figure, heiress to a fortune; the public had no idea what her foreign "charities" were. Her local charities were legitimate and her city of Marseilles very much loved her. She had as good a cover as one could have. I was a private contractor for various international government agencies; I would neutralize bothersome entities for an exorbitant fee. I never killed anyone purposely but would fix things so that after I led them to a bit of paranoia his or her own associates would force the organization to disintegrate. I was a bit skinny, of average height and wore glasses. I was average in looks and shy, I was the anti-James Bond. I had several personas I could slip into and spoke various languages in various voices but my main weapon was that I was a very good accountant. I could make ledgers sing or scream. My first step was always the hardest; I had to convince the target that they needed to hire me. I took a short cut when I induced an apparently near fatal heart attack in Angel's business office as I interviewed for a job. The recipient of my magic potion was the mid-level accountant interviewing me. I was widely credited with saving his life. I got the position of top ranking accountant for the charities home office in France. I came in early and stayed late, I claimed I needed extra time to get used to their system but I was simply copying everyone's files. I took the copies with me and used my own program to ferret out anomalies. I found none in any of the European charities but could not get into the files of the overseas groups. All were password protected. I had not expected it to be easy, it almost never is, and decided I needed to make some friends. In most places I infiltrated I was the quiet new guy and in most of those places there was somebody that wanted me to join in with the gang. That was the person checking me out to see if their secrets were safe with me. I gave my reluctant non-participant speech and retreated deeper into my personal shell. Eventually someone similar to me would seek me out. In the Angel headquarters it was Ana. She was a somewhat plain looking bookkeeper, a bit younger than me and as tall as me. She had nice breasts and a small waist. Her hometown was Barcelona and had worked in France for just over a year. Ana nearly jumped for joy when I spoke to her in Spanish and asked me to keep her company for lunch. She was lonely. Seducing her was so easy I felt a trace of guilt. She did have some spectacular orgasms however so I was happy to provide her with those. I liked her. I learned from her who the visitors representing the overseas charities were. Ana referred to all of them as animals including the woman overseeing an orphanage. Ana told me which accountants they visited and that Angel did not know them as far as she knew. The vice president for finance did know them and greeted them warmly. He was Angel's uncle Maurice. I asked Ana if she ever had dealings with Angel herself and she answered, "No, no one does except her uncle and her executive secretary. If we need clarifications or anything from her we go to one of them and ask. Sometimes we get an answer the next day by e-mail, sometimes the question is never answered. I have never seen her in person myself even though she has an office one level up from us." "I will bring dinner," I said as I caressed her hand before I left for my desk. Ana was very good in bed. We were also good company for each other. We began to go out on dates and always held hands. She loved the symphony and she loved dancing. We began to travel to Barcelona on some weekends because she also loved Barcelona futbol. Before I went to her flat that day I put in inquiries about her uncle, Angel's secretary, and on each accountant handling the foreign "charities." When I returned to my flat late that night I had a folder in my computer with the results of my questions waiting for me. The results for the executive secretary showed she had expensive tastes but nothing to send up any red flags. There was nothing very interesting about the accountants other than they lived well above what should be their salary level. However there were very interesting notes on her Uncle Maurice starting with the fact he was fond of girls. He also owned pieces of all the illegal companies under Angel's umbrella. I loaded photos of innocent looking girls in school uniforms and used them as my screensaver. The girls in the photos were actually women, (one was thirty-two and my first lover), that were the cast of a Little Orphan Annie spoof which played small theaters. As bait the photo worked well. Maurice asked me who they were and I told him they were actresses in a play and I had done the books for them; which was actually true. He did not seem to believe me but said nothing. I asked him if he wanted me to e-mail the picture to him and he accepted the offer with enthusiasm. The next day I saw the picture on his desk computer. I was in. My screen saver had an embedded program that allowed me into his computer. At home it took me just two tries to figure out Angel's Uncle Maurice's password, "fillette." I had tried it with the term petit first. I found a trove of porn but nothing on the overseas charities. I figured he had a different password for those files and I began to search for clues to his personality in his computer. I was stunned to see Shakespeare as his most non-work, non-porn reference. His screen savers were mostly posters of his plays. His password had to be "Iago." I tried it that evening and got into his files. Most of it would pass an audit by an independent agency but in my experience I knew there were layers under the numbers. I dug into the prostitute files first because I figured that would be his favorite offshore "charity." Over one hundred working girls a year had been sold to clients in Africa, the Middle East and Eastern Europe. Some had apparently stayed with him for a few weeks first. One night at about ten PM I joined the cleaning crew and went into Angela's office. I was surprised to find that her office was bugged. There was also a security cams recording everything Angel did. Why would anyone bug the bugger? I asked myself. I copied Angel's computer hard drive and just on a whim I also copied her secretary's but I expected little out of that one. I checked through them at home. Angela's computer had not one reference to the illegal activities and no mention of income from them. All of her business notes where about her charities in Spain, France, and Italy. There where some files that were protected but almost anyone who knew her would guess her password was stvincent. The protected files had employee records including their salaries and found that her uncle, her secretary, and the targeted accountants were not paid anywhere near enough to support their lifestyles. Angel was listed as earning one euro a year. I began to suspect she had no idea what was going on. That triggered some doubts in my head so I went back to her uncle's files and I realized Angel had never been mentioned once. I had gone into the job expecting she was the mastermind of the organization but I was now thinking it was all her uncle. I needed to meet Angel. My opportunity came when it was time to do her personal taxes. The accountant designated to do her personal finances was the accountant for the home office and that would be me. Her uncle warned me that her income and expense reports had always been a mess. I found that she had underpaid her taxes by millions and dug into it and found unspecified income received from donations to her charities but never used by the charities. I had her uncle call her and asked to allow me to see her under the pretext that her favorite store had charged her for deliveries when she had apparently picked up the items at the store herself. The ploy worked and she asked me to come up. I took Ana with me so she could meet her hero. Her secretary hovered around us at the start but when I began to quiz Angel about the store she left the office. Angel was older than her photos suggested; she was now in her mid-forties. She was more than a little underweight and very pale. She looked as if she may be ill. She was a bit quirky and absent minded, very pleasant to be with. Of course it could have been an act but I became was pretty much convinced she was not capable of running a criminal empire. Ana was upset by Angel's appearance and Angel noticed. Angel told her, "I have been trying to get my people to update my photos but they keep saying that they are selling an image and the image brings in the money Do I look that bad?" she asked Ana. "No, you still look like a model," Ana lied. Well perhaps she didn't lie, she likely still saw Angel with her heart, not her eyes. I stealthily turned off the intercom and turned on my bug disrupter then stood between the camera and Angel and showed her the discrepancy between income and expenses that was going to cost her millions in taxes. She was stunned. "That isn't what my accountant shows," she said. "I have last years papers right here," she added as she opened a desk drawer and pulled out a folder. All of the amounts listed were much smaller than they should have been. The incomes from the overseas accounts were not there. "Who prepared these for you?" "Uncle Maurice's son, my cousin Carlo. He does our family taxes." "Well, one of these sets of numbers is wrong. Do you have the papers for the last five years?" "Yes, in that cabinet. I think we have to keep them for five years but I have them for the last twenty. The earliest are in francs." "May we take them with us? We will copy them and bring them back this afternoon. That will help us figure out where it went wrong." "Ok. I'm sure it is all a simple error somewhere." "Thank you. We will get on it immediately. If we may suggest don't tell your uncle about the discrepancy. It might make trouble for Carlo." "Oh, right. Carlo is such a sweet boy but I was surprised he became an accountant, I didn't think he had the intelligence for it." "We will find out if he does. Thank you. We will return with this before five. Oh, did you pick up the items from this store or did they delivered?" "In truth I have no idea." "Then I will check with them for you." I stopped by the secretary's desk and asked her about Angel's health as Ana went past with the folders. The secretary said Angel had a problem with digestion and all she seemed to eat were crackers and tea. The charities own doctor was taking care of her. I went to Maurice's office and waited as he talked to the guy that ran the drug operation and when he left I told him that Angel had no idea if she picked it up or not. The uncle said, "She is like that, her memory is not very good and she starts projects, buys things, and even promises to appear someplace then forgets. She is an angel but a bit ditzy. I suggest you just go by the numbers you have." "Will do. Thanks. I do have a call to the store to check their records and she has asked me to tell her what they said. It bothered her." "OK, no problem. How long will the return take you?" "I thought it would take forever but following your suggestion I should have it ready to sign in a week." "Fabulous. Go crunch numbers." As I walked to my desk I decided that Maurice did not know much about bookkeeping or accounting either but was more of an office manager. Each legitimate and each illegal charity had its own accountant and bookkeeper. My bookkeeper was an older woman that needed no supervision. Ana was the bookkeeper for the charities in Spain. All of us reported to the uncle. I was now certain he did not have the ability to check our figures. Someone else must be running the show and I decided to inquire about Carlo. Ana copied the tax files and we took them back to Angel as soon as her secretary left her office for the day and put them in Angel's file cabinet. "Does your organization have a preferred banker?" I asked Angel. "Yes, Bank of France and Lotus Bank Shares in Grand Cayman. The last one protects us from taxes." As we left Angel's office I asked Ana, "Why would a charitable organization need to be protected from taxes by a foreign bank?" "It wouldn't," she said. "Are you coming over tonight? I will help you with your homework." "I will bring dinner." It became our daily routine. I would go to her home; we had dinner, tried to put the puzzle together, and then had sex. Most nights I slept in her bed and we had sex again before going to work. We were a couple by then even though we had never talked about our relationship. I soon had most of my stuff in her flat and lived there. I went to my flat only to work on my assignment. Somehow in the intervening weeks Ana had become very pretty. Ana had deduced I was there as an investigator. She never asked about what but had obviously assumed I was on Angel's side. I was happy I was now on her side although tentatively. I managed to get into the computers of the targeted accountants through Maurice's computer and began planting little untraceable snippets to the people running the scams. It was basically a hint that someone in their organization was trying to force them out. When I got a return inquiry I cited that the numbers for their organization did not add up and they were going to be blamed for the shortfall. My inquiry on Carlo told me he had nothing to do with accounting. He had not passed a single math class since the fourth grade. That brought my suspicions back to Maurice. Ana traced back Angel's taxes and found that the deviation began in 2005 and had become massive the last three years. Uncle Maurice became the office manager in 2005. Ana and I were stunned when one piece of the puzzle came into place. Angel's charity had 2.8 billion euros stashed in the bank in Grand Cayman, that was where the extra income was going. The next piece of the puzzle hit us hard, the only one authorized to withdraw funds from it was Angel herself. I used my special channels and found that she had never withdrawn money from the account. "So, who would inherit the money if she died?" Ana asked me. "Let's find out." On the larger front my small injection of paranoia had worked wonders. Maurice was visited by the bosses of each overseas organization demanding to know who was setting them up. Their accountants all swore they had not sent any messages and it was obvious no one believed them. Everyone checked with the bookkeepers and all claimed no knowledge. The accountants and bookkeepers were siphoning money for themselves so the nervous denials were noted. No one trusted any one now. I was winning. While distracted after the meetings Maurice gave me permission to talk to Angel. I told him the tax forms were ready for her to sign. Once in her office I asked her if she was healthy, did she feel well? She said she felt low on energy but felt OK otherwise. I asked her who would inherit her fortune if she died. "Uncle Maurice and Carlo," was the answer. Then she turned on the light bulb. "My secretary would be the executor of the will. She used to be my chief accountant but Uncle Maurice thought they should trade places and did. He had been my aide." Her secretary was the brains of the outfit and had power of attorney; she could withdraw the money. That evening I checked on the secretary's copied hard drive and found an enormous slice of memory assigned to a folder titled "Other" but I could not get into it. I searched for frequent references and was not too surprised that her most referenced non-work subject was also Shakespeare. Rumors of a relationship between her and Maurice were rampant in the office. I tried "ladymacbeth" and I found the entire plot in her files. We had suspected there were four illegitimate companies but I found seven. Fortunately the accountants, bookkeepers and local managers were listed. That Friday I called my support team and had them pick up Angel and give her a complete physical over the weekend looking for poisons. Then as a government inspector I sent each chieftain a portion of the financial record that showed they had shortchanged the Angel Charities and asked who did their numbers. The organizations soon collapsed from internal pressure. Each of the foreign charity accountants charged with their books vanished. Foul play was suspected but we knew those people had considerable cash stashed away and were probably in Tahiti. Their bookkeepers were a bit slower to react and three ended up in custody. We were sure one was erased by their client. Three had vanished with the accountants they worked for. Maurice and Carlo also fled and I now controlled the office. I froze the assets of each overseas entity. Angel was checked out at the hospital and found to have elevated levels of arsenic in her body. Her personal assistant had disappeared but was charged with attempted murder and arrested at the London airport as she hurried to catch a plane to the Cayman Islands. I had already frozen the charities accounts in Grand Cayman so the money there was safe from her. I had figured out who was helping the secretary with her schemes against Angel and the doctor supposedly treating her and her lawyers were also arrested. The arms dealing end was left with no arms to deal, they had lost any credibility and no one would provide them with inventory unless they paid cash. They ended up turning states evidence against each other. The trafficking in children ended when the offices of the so-called orphanages were raided. I had sent the authorities details about their organization and asked them to check if they were using Angel's name to cover a scam. The children were being used as factory workers. All employees were arrested. We talked various religious orders into running the orphanages for us. The drug cartel split into factions and all of those became eradicated by existing cartels. They had been the most violent group and the biggest moneymaker. The prostitution ring ended up with a complete overhaul of personnel and set up as a normal business in the countries where it was legal, we paid the taxes. All the ladies and the few gentlemen were placed on yearly contracts of salary and commission. I also allowed their bosses, all of which were accountants, to put them on our medical plan that included monthly exams. The managers for each enterprise were the most reliable ladies in each location. Even with generous salary and bonus plus the taxes I found that prostitution was a moneymaking business. That profit was diverted to the orphanages so the tax was minimal. The smugglers and black markets managers were apprehended although they were soon back in business under different sponsors. Angel never understood what had been happening to her. She was stunned to learn her secretary and her doctor were trying to kill her and sill believed her uncle and Carlo where good people even though she did not know where they were. My people found them in Guyana. They were soon dead at the hands of their former drug cartel. I never told Angel. I married Ana; she was great in bed. She was great in the kitchen. She loved to travel. She also worshipped me. I loved her more than a little. Well, maybe even more than that. I was faithful and happy. I understood we belonged together. She was gorgeous. The public love for Angel multiplied tremendously when the plot against her life was announced. The illegal activities were buried by the outrage over the attempted murder of one everyone already believed was a saint. Angel I convinced the authorities that Angel's money in Grand Cayman was charity donation hidden by people that were no longer employed by the charity and she should be allowed to use as it was intended. They saw it as a way out of a bad situation and agreed. I suggested to Angel that she use the billions stashed in banks to build emergency shelters for people in flood, earthquake, typhoon, and war prone areas. The buildings would be used as schools otherwise. I named them Angel's Refuge. Internet chatter led me to have them constructed as bomb shelters with a large reserve of food plus air and water recyclers. Seven were completed before they were needed. Angel, Ana and I were at such a shelter in the Pyrenees when the world as we knew it ended. We had one hundred women with thirty-two of their husbands and their children with us. The women were scientists, teachers, doctors and nurses. The husbands were policemen, engineers and teachers. One was an opera star. We also had forty-seven orphan children, all under the age of six. We had supplies for ten years. We survived until sunlight returned then alien ships evacuated us to an island in the middle of nowhere. Somehow we lived happily ever after. Angel She was there again today. It had been almost a week since she last appeared, walking down towards me along the station platform, walking on those luscious long legs, her beautiful slim body held erect and confident. On that last occasion she had been wearing a pure white cotton dress which had all but disappeared as she stood against the sunlight at our end of the platform, waiting for the train to arrive. The image of her indescribably sexy profile had burned itself in my brain, the swell of her breasts, the flatness of her stomach, the curve of her bottom; she had stood against the light, turning slightly as she waited, displaying her perfect form to me alone. Then we had exchanged our customary smile and a nod in greeting to each other. The image of her had stayed with me all that day and had been the cause of and the inspiration for my masturbation that night. Thoughts of her standing there in that dress or standing naked before me in my room, gently turning her body from side to side, presenting herself to me. I had fantasised about running my hands over her, stroking, caressing, touching, exciting. My coming that night had been strong and powerful, a tribute to her perfection and unattainability. I called her 'Angela', my angel. We had never spoken, never talked to each other, but each day as we waited for our train we had exchanged a smile and nod of recognition - two total strangers on the same journey. She was flawless, a few years younger than me - probably in her mid-twenties. Tall, slim, elegant with long, flowing blonde hair reaching down to her shoulder blades. She had always dressed immaculately, her sense of style and fashion as perfect as her body. She had a tendency towards sexy styles that would offer a hint of revelation whilst still keeping her modestly covered. Clothes that made you keep watching her, just in case you got to see more than you should. A blouse with a low neckline, a figure hugging skirt with a deep slash in the thigh, tall heels that emphasised her height and made her bottom more prominent as she walked. Yes, my angel knew how to dress, how to hold herself, how to walk through a busy station to ensure that every male head, and quite a few female ones as well, would turn to watch her as she passed by. Today though, was different. As she hurried along the platform I could see there was something wrong. She didn't have her normal poise, she was almost hunched over, as if trying to hide herself from sight. Rather than her normal elegant clothing she wore slacks and a t-shirt and had sneakers on her feet. Her t-shirt was crumpled, obviously put on un-ironed, its colour clashing with her trousers. He lovely blonde hair was hanging loose, slightly tangled, only roughly brushed. It kept falling across her face as she walked towards me, and she would push it back sharply, a frown on her face. No smile or nod this morning as she threw herself down into the next bench along the platform from where I was sitting and wrapped her arms around herself, hiding away from the world. Obviously something was wrong, something had happened in the few days she had been absent from our daily ritual to upset the confidence she normally exuded. I was disturbed, upset. This was my angel, my morning vision. I looked forward each morning to her arrival, admiring and desiring her from afar. Like a goddess, she was unapproachable for any mortal, exquisite and perfect, a creature of dreams. As I pondered the change that had come over her our train drew into the station and broke my attention. The carriage was full, as usual, but we both got seats at on the same row, she facing me, but just across the aisle. I was able to watch her as the train rattled and groaned its way into the city. She was wearing no makeup, another change from normal, and had dark smudges under her eyes. It seemed that whatever was wrong was causing sleepless nights. She sat in silence, hunched over, staring at the floor. Normally she would have been erect and smiling, conscious of the admiring looks she drew, but not acknowledging them in any way. Today, she was withdrawn, her arms or legs twitching slightly on occasions, her lips moving silently as though talking to herself. Sudden, frightened looks darting round the carriage, before she resumed her study of the floor. I was horrified by the change in her, something dreadful had happened to my angel and I couldn't look away. The train eventually pulled into the city station and the carriage emptied. She and I carried on a couple more stops to a station on the outskirts of the city and it was this extra journey in an empty carriage that had led to us acknowledging each other and started our daily ritual of a silent greeting. Today, there was just us two and three other people further down the carriage remaining on the train as it pulled away. She continued to stare at the floor, but suddenly, harshly, wiped at her eye with the back of one hand, as if wiping away a tear. I couldn't help myself, I had to speak to her. "Excuse me," I started, leaning towards her, "is everything alright? I couldn't help...' My words trailed off as she glared at me, a look of pure hatred. "I'm sorry," I said, sitting back and turning away, "I don't mean to intrude." Her expression softened. "No," she said, "I'm sorry. It's OK." And she turned to look out of the window. A moment later I heard a small sniff, but didn't dare approach her again. A couple of minutes later, she turned towards me and opened her mouth as if to speak, but shut it again and turned back to the window. This was repeated twice more before she suddenly blurted out, "are you married?" I was taken aback. "Err... Separated." I managed to utter. She nodded and turned back to the window. More moments passed. "Were you unfaithful?" was barked across at me, accompanied by an hard expression, with narrowed eyes. "No, never. Apparently, the bonds of our marriage were damaging to her aura and she could no longer feel at peace with her inner spirit." I smiled grimly at the seat opposite me, remembering that night nine months ago when my world had fallen apart. Sam had been younger than me, a free spirit I should never have tried to hold on to. Our brief marriage had been fun to start with, but had quickly grown into an intolerable burden to both of us. My angel stared at me, expressionless for a few moments before uttering "Hmm," and returning to staring out of the window. We spoke no more until the train was approaching our stop and we stood, ready to depart. Then, suddenly, unexpectedly, she asked "if you were married to me, would you be unfaithful then?" My mind reeled at the personal, intimate nature of the question. A question that no strangers would ever ask, that broke the rules of polite interaction. I was flustered, and reacted without thinking, "God, no. You're beautiful, perfect." A smile broke out on her face for the first time that day,transforming her back into the angel I had admired for so long. "Thank you for the compliment," she answered with a chuckle, before her face hardened again, "but that lying, cheating bastard of my husband didn't seem to think so!" Then, turning she stepped off the train. It took a moment or two for me to gather my wits and follow her and she was several steps ahead of me as we approached the barrier. She fumbled with her ticket, trying to get it into the machine to allow her to pass through and this allowed me to catch up with her. Her hands were shaking and she couldn't line the ticket up properly. "Please," I offered, taking the ticket from her, "let me." I fed the ticket into the machine and she smiled at me in thanks. I passed through behind her and as we prepared to go our separate ways, asked her "will you be alright?" She paused, flustered. "I can't face work today," she suddenly blurted out. "I thought I could, but I can't." Then, turning to me with tears in her eyes, she asked "will you take me for a coffee?" "Err..." I thought quickly, I had a visitor coming to see me in an hour and a half, but nothing urgent before then. I could arrive late and make some excuse without causing any great problems. "I'm sorry," she said, mistaking my hesitation for unwillingness. "I had no right asking you that. You have your work to go to. I'll be OK." "No. It's alright," I answered quickly, "I was just working out how long I could be away. There's a Starbucks just down the road, if you want." She smiled, and linked her hand round my arm as we turned in that direction. "Thank you," she said. "I'm sorry to be a nuisance, I just don't want to be alone." "My pleasure," I answered, truthfully. Being able to spend some time with my angel was beyond my wildest dreams, a heaven sent opportunity. "My name's Josh, by the way, and your's?" "Ellie," came the simple reply. "Nice to properly meet you at last, Josh." "Ellie?" I chuckled, and she gave me a curious look. "I always pictured you as an 'Angela'," I explained, "because you looked like an angel, my angel," and then I blushed, thinking she may have thought me to be flirting with her. She laughed, a happy, silvery sound and she squeezed my arm. "That may be just the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long time." I felt a tingling feeling in my gut. It had been a long time since I had had a girl on my arm, never mind one so pretty as Ellie. She had featured in my fantasies and dreams for so long it was hard to avoid carnal thoughts with her there, laughing and holding on to me. # We sat opposite each other, holding our coffee. I was feeling a little sheepish and embarrassed, not knowing what to say or do. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" I asked, gently. She smiled a grim, humourless smile. "Not much to tell." She said, quietly. "Last Sunday he went off to play golf, like he usually does, and I stayed at home to tidy the house and do the washing. Half way through the morning I went into the garage to get something and found his golf bag sitting there. He'd already been gone for over an hour, so it wasn't as if he'd forgotten it - he'd had plenty of time to come back for it." She wiped her eye and paused a while. "When he got home, I confronted him. I'd sat there for two hours imagining all sorts of things, trying to think up reasons why he may have left his clubs and why he didn't come back for them. I was in quite a state when he came swanning back in, a big smile on his face." She paused again, and I noticed her hand was shaking. I reached across and gently laid my hand over hers on the table. She never looked up, but gripped my fingers tightly. "He tried to laugh it off, claiming he had borrowed a set from a friend. He was trying to escape upstairs for a shower, said he was all sweaty, but it wasn't sweat I could smell on him, but the smell of sex. I freaked. I ranted, I raved. Finally he admitted it. He'd been shagging his secretary for the last six months. I don't know what he sees in her, she's forty, at least, fat and frumpy." With her free hand she gestured at herself. "Wouldn't you much rather have me than some old tart?" Would I? Would a desert nomad like a glass of water? "Of course I would. Any man would have to be insane to not want you." She blushed, and looked prettier than ever. "What about you, Josh," She asked, "What's your story?" "Sam left me about nine months ago," I started to tell her, "she was young, probably too young to get married, but I loved her so much. I think she was a child of the sixties, born forty years too late. A free spirit, wild, exciting. Things were great to start with, but she couldn't be contained." "Was she unfaithful?" Ellie squeezed my hand as she said this, a look of concern on her face. "Unfaithful?" I considered. "She had many lovers, both before and after we married. I may as well have tried to chain a butterfly to a single flower. Was she unfaithful, though? I don't think she would have considered it so." I couldn't help a note of sadness enter my voice. I missed Sam so much. "Where is she now?" asked Ellie. "I don't know. I had a postcard from Devon about three months ago, but I've heard nothing since then." All the excitement and arousal I had been feeling from Ellie's presence had gone, Talking and thinking about Sam had replaced it with a hard cold lump in my stomach. I felt my eyes filling with tears. I think Ellie must have notice this because she sat, letting go of my hand after giving it one last squeeze and wiped her own eyes. "Look at us two," she said with a slightly forced laugh. "Two old has-beens, washed up and dumped." "You're no has-been," I responded, "You're beautiful." She laughed, quietly. "I don't feel at all beautiful today. I must look dreadful. I didn't bother to get ready properly at all this morning, but you can keep telling me - I may start to believe it!" "Don't be silly," I answered. The clothes and things, they're just stuff on the outside. You're beautiful from the inside out. That's what makes you so special, why I have admired you for months, yet been to shy to talk to you." "Have you?" She ran her finger through her hair as she said this, "I think I knew. I used to catch you watching me sometimes - lots of people did that, I know, but you sort of watched me gently, not just hoping to get me naked like most men. I think that's why I started to choose clothes I thought you would like each morning. I don't think I could ever have spoken to you, though." "Oh, I did my fair share of imagining you naked too," I laughed, not feeling at all embarrassed to be talking this way. "When you wore that white dress last week, you can't imagine the effect you had, on everyone, not just me!" She laughed aloud again, beautiful, charming, happy for a spell. "Oh, I knew. I was feeling a little bit naughty that day, I must admit. Did I show much through the fabric in the sunshine?" "Everything." I chuckled. "You may just have well have taken it off. It was a heavenly sight, though." She giggled, holding her hand up to her mouth like a little girl. "I was feeling frustrated that morning, I'd woken up that morning feeling horny and had tried to make love to Dave, but he wasn't interested. I'd even gone down on him, but he didn't want to finish. I didn't realise why at the time, of course. That's why I decided to wear that dress and give you a bit of a show, I suppose." She paused and blushed bright crimson. "My God, I can't believe I'm talking to you like this!" "It's OK," I answered, "we're both grown ups, we know what happens in the bedroom." I reached out to hold her hand once again. I was feeling distinctly aroused, though. My cock was swelling at the thought of her trying to seduce her husband and getting more frustrated by the second and it was getting quite tight in my pants. She sat quietly for a second, gently smiling. Then said, as if she had just made a decision, "I'm not going to work today. I'm going to go home and get myself cleaned up. No point in moping round like a slob because Dave's a bastard. Do you think you could ask the staff to call me a taxi?" I went over to the counter and asked, making a decision at the same time that I was going to skip work as well. I was already going to be late for my appointment and I would be unable to concentrate properly for the rest of the day. Better to skip it completely and start afresh tomorrow. I went back to the table and told her. "I'm going to skip work today too," I said, "do you mind if I share your taxi home?" Ellie gave me a brief, open look. "No, I don't mind. I think I'd like your company for a little while longer." She excused herself to go to the ladies room, and I made a to call the office, making up an excuse about a family crisis with an elderly relative. She came back after about five minutes, looking a lot more like her usual self. She had brushed and tied back her hair and put on some powder and mascara. She held her head up high and was looking confident and beautiful once again. Not only beautiful, but desirable as well. I felt a stirring in my crotch again, an aching desire, an appreciation of her figure and beauty. I shifted my position to ease the pressure building up and think she knew what it was because she smiled slightly and held herself a little more erect. # The taxi ride home was difficult for me, but I wouldn't have missed it for the world. Having Ellie sitting next to me, close enough that our hands and thighs touched occasionally, chatting about nothing consequential, was a delight and a torture. I was sporting a respectable erection and trying to hide it as best as I could, but Ellie kept touching my arm with her fingertips, or would ever so briefly brush my thigh with them instead. She was happy and chatty, all the sorrow and anger from earlier dispersed as we enjoyed each other's company. Too soon we arrived at her home, a modern building on the banks of the river. I opened the taxi door for her, intending to continue on to my own home alone, but she hesitated. "Won't you come in for a drink," she asked, hesitantly. "I feel dreadfully guilty for dragging you out of work, the least I can do is treat you to lunch." I paused before replying, "what about Dave?" I asked, "Is he at home?" Ellie laughed bitterly. "No, I chucked him right out on his sorry arse. He won't be coming back here in a hurry. Not unless he's planning to collect his golf clubs, if he dare. He'll find them in the bottom of the river!" That made me laugh. "You didn't?" "Too right I did!" Ellie chuckled, a deep-throated sound, full of fun and mischief. "Come on, come on in." I paid off the taxi and followed her inside. She paused in the hallway, looking at herself in a full length mirror there. "My God," she exclaimed, "what was I thinking, going out looking like this, I look frightful!" "I've seen you looking better," I answered, chivalrously, "but you'll never look frightful to me." "Why, Josh," she exclaimed with a laugh, "are you flirting with me?" "No, no," I tried to deny it, "I didn't mean anything, I was..." "It's alright," she laughed again, "I'm just making fun of you. But, you do say the nicest things in the nicest ways." She looked once more in the mirror and shuddered. "I'm going to go and get cleaned up a bit and change out of these rags. Make yourself at home, the kitchen's through there, there's beer and wine in the fridge or make yourself a coffee, whatever you like. I'll be out as soon as I can." I called after her retreating back. "What can I get you?" She answered me over her shoulder, "I'll have a glass of Pinot, there's a bottle in the fridge." I wandered through into the kitchen, all very modern and spacious. The fridge was huge, with half a dozen bottles of wine in the bottom. I found a Pinot Grigio, a good brand, better than the wines I usually bought. She was obviously well off and I wondered if she would be able to continue in this lifestyle without Dave. I found a corkscrew and took the bottle and two glasses through to the lounge. Another tastefully decorated room, comfortable without being cluttered or ostentatious. A burgundy red chesterfield with two armchairs arranged round a huge oak coffee table in front of a massive fireplace. A deep pile rug in a nice ivory colour in front of the fireplace gave me thoughts of her lovely slim body, wrapped in a silky negligee, lounging on the rug in front of a blazing log fire. Again I felt that familiar tingling in my groin. I thought to myself that I had to get a grip on this or I would ruin a beautiful day. That was not why she had invited me back. I tried to distract myself by looking through her music CD collection. It was an eclectic mix, Motorhead, Slipknot, Def Leppard mixed up with Brahms, Rachmaninoff and Liszt. I picked up a Tchaikovsky piano concerto, No. 1, Opus 23, and slipped it into the player. Sipping my wine and listening to the piano and flutes handing off phrases to one another, with that happy, lilting melody I was lost, reclining back on the sofa, eyes closed. As the first movement drew to its extravagant and unusual ending, I was startled out of my reverie by Ellie sitting down next to me and drawing her legs up on the sofa. Angel "How did you know this was one of my favourites?" she asked. I smiled. "Somehow, I just couldn't see you appreciating the finer points of Motorhead." She chuckled, "certainly not - that's all just noise to me. Strange to think of it now, I'm just beginning to realise just how little Dave and I had in common. I think I was more of a trophy than a wife to him." I leaned forward to our and pass her a glass of wine, then settled back to look at her. She was certainly looking a lot better than she had in the morning, she had showered and dressed with care, choosing a light powder blue knee-length frock with a deep, square cut neckline which showed ample cleavage. A royal blue velvet choker round her neck and ivory strap up sandals with medium sized heels completed her outfit. All together it looked stunning. She hadn't applied any new makeup, but her freshly dried hair was tied back in a loose ponytail and draped over one shoulder. She looked, and smelled, as fresh as any angel newly arrived from heaven. Again, I felt the stirrings of desire and tried to look away. "Dave was a fool." I said, shortly. "Anyone should be proud to have you for a companion." "Thank you," she said, quietly. She reached out one hand and brushed my lips with her fingertips. "You've said a lot of nice things about me today. I think I really needed it. I've been feeling dreadful these last couple of days and you've restored my confidence in myself." My body reacted before my brain and I leaned forward to kiss her. It was only as I drew in to make contact that my common sense caught up with me and I nearly panicked and shied away, but held my nerve and we kissed. Not a deep, passionate kiss, no open mouths or tongues involved, but a gentle sweet kiss, freely given and freely accepted, enjoyed by us both. After just a few seconds we parted and I looked worriedly into her face, concerned that I had gone too far, too soon. She smiled at me, and rested one hand on my chest. Not a 'hold you away' kind of touch, just a touch of contact of closeness, of intimacy. "Josh," she said, ever so gently, "I want to do this, but I want to do it right. I need to be sure that I do it for me, not in revenge for Dave - that bastard doesn't deserve any sort of hold over me. Can you wait a while? Please?" What could I say. I squeezed her hand and said nothing in reply to her plea. Instead I simply said, in the kindest way I could, "I think you mentioned something about lunch?" She smiled, gratefully, and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up and saying "Chicken salad OK for you?" # Ellie quickly made a salad and we took it out onto the riverbank, together with the rest of the wine. I was a little disappointed not to be taking things further with Ellie, but not very much so. I was really enjoying her company, to be honest. The meal and, more to the point, the wine and the hot sun was making us lazy and drowsy and I must have dozed off for a while. What woke me was Ellie lightly running her finger up the side of my thigh. She was lying on the grass beside me with her head propped up on one arm, watching me slowly wake up. I looked over and we smiled at each other. She continued to run her finger up and down my thigh, from just above my knee to my hip bone and back. I glanced down and could see right down into the top of her dress, a good depth of cleavage and even the tiniest hint of nipple showing above the top of her deep blue bra cups. Between the view and her stroking, my cock reacted as you would expect, growing hard and stiff in a few moments. She must have realised this, because with one last stroke up my thigh her hand moved, instead of back down again, across the front of my trousers and round the outline of my erection. At the same time she leaned in to me and kissed me full on the mouth. I felt her mouth open as she kissed me, her tongue probing between my lips and felt my passion and need rise to meet hers. After a minute or so of deeply passionate kisses we broke apart, breathless. "I think," she said, slowly and huskily, "I know why I am doing this now. Come into the house." Before I could react, she sat up and in one quick motion pulled off her lovely royal blue panties and dropped them on the grass, then, jumping up went running into the house before I could take in what she had done. I sat for a couple of seconds looking at her discarded panties, not really taking in what had just happened. In a daze, I stood and followed her, heart racing, my erection almost bursting out of my pants, about to realise the fantasies that had tantalised me for the last few months. As I entered through the back door into the kitchen, Ellie was standing, leaning against the worktop with her lower lip between her teeth. A look of relief settled on her face. "I thought you weren't coming," she said. "Of course I'm coming," I answered, holding out my arms to her. "How could I not?" She came to me, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me with a breathless passion, deep, long and hard. She pressed herself against me, grinding her crotch into mine, pressing her breasts against my chest, sucking on my tongue and lip. My hands went around her waist and down to her bottom, stroking, holding, kneading. The feel of her bare skin under the light cotton fabric was erotic beyond belief and she squirmed under my hands to press against me even harder. Her crotch was grinding into my erection now, exciting me further and giving me concern that I wouldn't be able to hold on. I pulled away, gasping, "wait, slow down, hold on!" She stared at me with a wild look in her eyes, as if, for a moment, she didn't know where she was. She took my hand and said "Come on," and pulled me through the door towards the stairs. As we went up the stairs she let go of my hand and quickly unfastened the buttons on the front of her dress. Slipping off the shoulder straps she let it fall, stepping out of it. Her bra was quickly pulled over her head without bothering to unfasten it and also discarded on the stairs. She went up before me now clad only in her velvet choker and her sandals, with the straps criss-crossed over her ankles and lower calves. I watched the slim, gentle curve of her back, narrowing around her tiny waist and flaring out again to her hips, her taut, rounded bottom swaying from side to side as she mounted the steps. Mesmerised, I followed, along the passageway and into her bedroom. Once inside she whirled and threw herself onto me again, pushing me back against the door until it slammed shut behind me. Her hands gripped either side of my face she kissed me with hunger and passion, pressing her deliciously naked body against mine, squirming and wriggling against me to make the most of our contact. I returned her kisses with equal fervour, our tongues entwined, my hands running loose over her body, caressing, touching, holding, probing. I cupped her luscious behind in my hands, pulling her in towards me, rubbing her against my almost painful erection. She pulled back from our kiss, panting, gasping. Her hands snatched at my shirt, half undoing , half ripping the buttons and pushing the shirt back over my shoulders. Her palms now rubbing against my chest, my nipples, finger twisting into my chest hair. She dipped her head and started to kiss and suckle on my nipples, licking and flicking them with her tongue, then nibbling and biting them gently with her teeth. The sensations, the aphrodisiac of her need, the feel of her silky smooth skin under my hands, it was like nothing ever experienced before. Still pressing me back against the door, she moved down my body, kissing my belly while her hands fumbled with the fastening on my pants. Pausing slightly after she had pulled my pants down to my knees, she slowed as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of my boxers, then she slowly pulled them down until my cock leapt out. Stiff and firm, my erection was so hard that it pointed nearly vertically upwards. She licked her lips as she looked at it, hair all messed up and a burning desire in her eyes. I was partially immobilised, shirt down my back, entangling my arms, trousers round my knees, so I just leaned back on the door and watched her looking at me. She was still crouched down in front of my crotch, staring at my cock. From my standing viewpoint, I could see her face, fascinated, I could see her breasts rising and falling in front of her as she breathed heavily from her excitement and exertions. I could see the curve of her back, stretching down to the swelling of her backside jutting out behind her as she crouched in front of me. Her legs were parted, I couldn't see her pussy from here, but I just knew it would be wet, open, inviting. She moved her arm slowly and ran her fingertips up the underside of my cock from my balls to the tip, causing me to groan out loud and lean my head back, closing my eyes. Round the tip and back down again went the butterfly touch and my cock twitched and bobbed in response. Then, a softer touch, warm and wet as she licked under the head of my cock and her tongue tickled round the tip. Another groan, I couldn't last long at this rate. I started to struggle out of my shirt, but she raised one arm and held her palm flat against my chest,pushing me back and holding me still. She wanted control. I felt fingers stroking and caressing my balls and a warmth and wetness enveloped my cock as she took it fully into her mouth. He forehead was pressed against my belly and her hair hanging down, so I couldn't see what she was doing, but every touch, every sensation was like a current running through my body. I didn't need sight, I knew exactly what was happening. Slowly she started to suck me in and out of her mouth, the tip of my cock alternately being licked and flicked by her tongue, then pressed firmly against the back of her mouth. The hand that had been caressing my balls now moved to the shaft of my cock and started a steady, firm stroke to match the movement in and out of her mouth. I couldn't move, held back by her hand, still pressing me against the door, tied at the knees and elbows in my clothes. I could feel the cum rising in my groin and I knew that the point of no return was fast approaching. I reluctantly gasped out to her to stop, to slow down. I didn't want her to stop, but neither did I want to end this incredible opportunity to enjoy her body too soon. She released me then and, still squatting before me, looked up and grinned. "Too much for you?" "Incredible," I answered, "but I want more than just your mouth, I want every bit of you." She stood then, pulling me off the door. "Well, best get you undressed then," she purred and slipped round behind me. Her hands moved slowly, untangling my shirt and slipping it off my arms, dropping it on the floor. I could feel her breasts pressing against my back and her pussy pressing against my buttocks as she wrapped her arms round me and caressed my chest, rubbed my tingling nipples and kissing me between my shoulder blades. She slid down my body, gripping me as though she was sliding down a pole. Her hands caressing, touching, twisting in my pubic hair, but fortunately avoiding my cock and balls. One touch now would finish me off and I think she knew it. She slid down me, nuzzling, kissing, nipping me with her teeth as she went. She caressed and nibbled at my buttocks as she slid my pants down, making me raise each leg in turn to pull them off, until I was a naked as she was - more so as she still wore her sandals. Finally, still crouching behind me, she reached forward between my legs to caress my balls and grip my shaft from behind. A few steady strokes like this brought another groan from me and she released me, standing up and wrapping her arms around my chest. "Now," she murmured, "turn around and kiss me." I twisted in her arms and kissed her, the hardness of my cock squeezed between our bellies. I felt her shiver in my arms and one hand moved down to grip my buttocks and pull me in tighter. I repeated the same actions she had made on me, moving slowly down her body, touching, caressing, squeezing her breasts. Kissing, licking, biting at those gorgeous nipples until they stood from her body like two little stones. She too, leaned back her head and groaned with pleasure, eyes closed as she enjoyed my attentions. Down, further down over the flat firmness of her stomach, lingering over her belly button to kiss and probe it with my tongue. Finally, both her buttocks held firmly in my hands, I pulled her pussy towards me. What a sight, shaven clean except for a neatly trimmed patch of pale blonde fur just above her slit, the outer lips puffy and swollen, the inner lips just protruding, dark and damp. She even smelled divine, sweetness overlaid with the musk of her desire. Even a hint of perfume behind it. I wanted her, I wanted her so much. Slowly, ever so slowly and gently I started to kiss around the top of her thighs, inching closer to the sweetness between them. She moaned again and pushed herself forward to meet my kisses, urging me onwards. I kissed and nuzzled around her pussy, through the fuzz of her pubic hair, but still not touching her pussy, though I could feel the heat radiating from it. She groaned again above me and tanged there finger in my hair. Raising one knee and wrapping it over my shoulder to open her crotch and push it forward to me she whispered desperately, "please!" I kissed those clean shaven lips gently, teasingly, before slowly running my tongue along her slit from bottom to top. A breathless gasp from above. Squeezing firmly on her buttocks I pulled her into me, nuzzling into her delights, spreading her lips and exposing the expected wetness beneath. My tongue probed her slit, lapping up her fluids and moving up towards the hard little button of her clit, peeping out from beneath its shroud. I paused, flicking at this with my tongue, teasing it before sucking it into my lips. Ellie made a little mewling sound as I did this, and the remaining leg she was standing on sagged at her knee and she slumped slightly until I took her weight in my hands still firmly holding her bottom. This pushed her pussy more firmly into my mouth and I pressed against her clit as my tongue slid deeply into her. Ellie cried out then and I felt her tense and a spasm passed through her pussy. She gripped my head tightly, pulling my hair where her finger were wrapped in it and my mouth was flooded with her juices as her orgasm took her. She gave up all semblance of supporting herself and slid down the door until she was lying on the floor under me, her legs wrapped tightly round my chest, panting, twitching, gasping. I gently kissed her breasts and neck, waiting for her to recover. I was still aching for release, but while I'd concentrated on her pleasure the danger of coming too soon had passed. It was returning now though, as I held her in my arms, her legs still wrapped round me. I moved up slightly until my cock was rubbing against her pussy and she squirmed against me, moaning a little. She was so wet and I was so hard that I just slid easily into her, going in full depth without a pause until our pubic bones ground together. She gave a wordless cry as I did so, and clung to me more tightly. I paused, savouring the warm, wet tightness of her pussy, feeling it twitch and pulse on my cock. Ellie clung to me, gasping, panting. I could tell she was on the verge of another orgasm. Slowly, I withdrew until only the tip of my cock was still inside her and paused again. Ellie shuddered and pushed her crotch towards me, seeking more of me. I slid into her again, causing another cry and a spasm. I stated a steady stroke, in and out, slowly at first, then faster and faster as my need overtook me. Ellie started to come again, moaning and thrashing under me, crying out and pushing up to meet me, but I didn't pause, I couldn't, not now. One final push and I held her tight to me, Ellie cried out as I pumped my cum deep inside her, her threshing around now stilled, she held me tightly to her in a suffocating, squeezing grip. The intense waves of my pleasure started to subside and I relaxed the pressure with which I was pushing into her and she relaxed her bear-like crushing grip on me. I started to pull out of her, but she gripped me again, gasping "No, no, no." I waited. Eventually, as my cock grew limp and shrank within her she gave one last shudder and unwrapped her legs from round me, letting me free. I noticed she had tears in her eyes and, concerned, asked "did I hurt you?" "No," she smiled back, stroking my cheek, "it was wonderful, perfect." She reached up and kissed me. "Nobody's ever made me come like that before." "What...?" I don't understand what she was saying. Someone as beautiful as she was, surely... "With their mouth, I mean" "Huh? Did Dave never..." she stopped me by holding her finger against my lips. "Dave's not part of this. This is for us." She moved under me, "now, lets get up. My butt's going numb on the floor down here." We stood up and she leant against the door laughing, "Wooh," she said, "I've gone all dizzy and my knees don't seem to want to work together!" I held her to me, kissing her mouth and neck in a tender embrace. "Let's get cleaned up," she murmured as we held each other and she led me by the hand to the bathroom. # Her bathroom was larger than my bedroom, granite fittings round the wall with two wash basins, a double tub free-standing in the middle and a large walk-in shower along one wall, the type with a big ceiling-mounted shower head to let the water fall vertically like rain. She turned on the water and adjusted the temperature until it cascaded down like a steaming waterfall. Finally, slipping off her sandals and choker, she pulled me into the shower with her and wrapped herself round me, kissing me deeply and passionately. I could feel a tingling in my groin again as desire returned and responded to her kisses and the feel of her body, wet against mine. She held me close and murmured in my ear, "I chose this shower because I always wanted someone to fuck me in the rain. Will I get my wish today?" My cock twitched in response and started to swell. "I think that's a distinct possibility..." I murmured in return. She hugged me and handed me a bottle of shower gel. "Soap me?" she asked. I did the best I could, massaging gel into her body, but she twisted and turned so much that I never got a chance to concentrate on any one par tot her. Instead, after a brief massage of her back and bottom she would turn to present breasts, belly, pussy, and twist again, never still. It meant she was constantly rubbing against me, and the soapy wetness of her slim form in my arms was exciting and my erection grew again. Ellie felt my cock between us and reached down and took it in booth hands, stroking and rubbing it, caressing and gently squeezing my balls at the same time. Bending down, she kissed and sucked me to full hardness until I started thrusting at her mouth with my hips, unable to restrain the feelings of pleasure she was giving me. She straightened, not releasing my cock from her grip. "Fuck me?" she asked, breathlessly, eyes pleading. I pushed her back to the shower wall and started to lift her leg, but she stopped me with her hand against my chest. "No," she said and turning, she set her feet apart and bent from the waist until her back was horizontal and her bottom thrust up towards me. "Like this, " she breathed, barely audible over the sound of the shower. I was mesmerised by the sight of her, presenting herself to me like that, lewd, sexy, alluring. Her pussy opening like a flower, beneath the small pink button of her anus spread in front of me. I reached out and caressed her bottom, rubbing my hands down over the back of her thighs and back up again, fingers probing between her legs, my thumb rubbing at her anus. My middle finger ran up the length of her slit and found her clit, already swollen and hard. My index finger slid deep in her pussy, my thumb continued to rub her anus. Again, my middle finger found her clit and she gasped, pushing back into my hand. I could see her breasts hanging down under her, swinging gently as she rubbed herself back and forth on my hand. I think it was the most erotic moment of my life. Angel She was gasping out now, coming close to another orgasm. "Fuck me," she panted, "fuck me now, I want you, I want your cock, fuck me now!" I moved behind her and crouching slightly, pressed the head of my cock against her pussy lips. She pushed back against me and her pussy lips parted, letting my cock slide slowly into her. She let out a shuddering groan and I felt my cock press up against the end of her vagina, I was more deeply embedded than ever before. Holding her hips I started to thrust into her, building up a steady rhythm. Ellie was crying out with every thrust and when I reached round and down between her legs to play with her clit as I pumped into her her cries became a continuous wail, rising in pitch and intensity as she came again, shuddering and pushing back onto me, her pussy contracting and squeezing my cock. I could feel her come juices washing down over my balls in spite of the water flow from the shower and her knees buckled. She would have fallen if I had not been holding onto her. I paused, waiting for her to recover, but she pulled off me and collapsed onto all fours on the shower floor. Turning to sit and look back at me, breathless and flushed, she simply said "fucking hell!" I stood, panting from my own exertions, with my cock still stiff in front of me. I'd already come once, in the bedroom but was ready and urgent for a second release, so I leaned back and started rubbing myself. Seeing this, she knelt up and took my cock in her hand and started stroking it up and down. "Can't leave it like that," she said, with a smile. As she steadily stroked me, she closed her eyes and started to rub the head of my cock round her nipples, and in the gap between her breasts. The water was still washing down over us and it felt heavenly. It didn't take long until I felt a tightening in my balls and I knew the end was not far away. I closed my eyes and moaned, Ellie immediately took my cock into her mouth and started sucking on it. I could feel the pressure rising within me and when she gently scratched at my balls it was too much, I pushed my hips forward and came into her mouth, my cum pulsing out, once, twice, three times. She swallowed it all without hesitation, then licked the final drops from the end of my twitching cock, forcing another moan from me in response. Ellie stood up and we held onto each other, slowly recovering, until she turned off the water and we got out of the shower. Collecting a couple of large fluffy towels, we dried each other off, slowly and gently. I was completely spent so, although I enjoyed the sensation of wiping Ellie down with a towel and finding all her nooks and crevices to do it, I couldn't start another erection just yet, though it did give me a pleasant tingling in my groin. When we were dry, we went and lay together, naked on her bed, resting. Not talking much, just cuddling together, enjoying the sensation of each other's bare flesh against one another. Gently touching, caressing, stroking each other. Gradually, we both dozed off as the post-orgasmic sedative effect took hold. # I was woken a little time later by the feel of Ellie getting up off the bed. "Huh?" I asked drowsily, "going somewhere?" "I need to pee," she replied and I watched as she padded naked across the room and through the door. She really did have the perfect body and she walked with such poise and grace that her natural beauty was enhanced beyond belief. I felt that I could watch her all day, every day and never tire of the sight. She returned after a few moments and, leaning in throughout the door, simply enquired, "coffee?" "Hmm, please." My mouth watered at the thought of coffee and the sight of Ellie, still naked and leaning slightly forward through the door, causing her breasts to sway and move in a way that brought more carnal thoughts to mind. Ellie padded off along the landing and down the stairs and I got up to follow her, calling first in the bathroom to take a pee, just as she had done. I found her in the kitchen, making the coffee and singing quietly to herself in a foreign language. I watched, mesmerised by the way she moved and her beautiful voice. The tautness of her buttocks, the swing of her breasts as she turned, the grace of her arms as she reached for cups and spoons. She saw me watching her from the doorway and smiled across at me. "Enjoying the view?" she teased. "Very much!" I answered, adding "and the song. What is it?" She giggled. "You'll laugh at me!" "No, I won't," I answered, "It sounded beautiful, full of joy and happiness." "It's Elvira's wedding song from 'I Puritani'," she replied, blushing, "She sings 'Son vergin vezzosa in vesta di sposa; son bianca ed umile qual giglio d'april'. It means 'I'm a charming virgin in a wedding dress, I'm white and humble as an April lily'." I laughed and she threw a tea towel at me, "see! I told you you'd laugh at me!" "Well," I answered, moving toward her to hold her to me, "You had me fooled about the virgin bit and you seem to have mislaid your wedding dress. I'm not too sure about the 'humble' part, either!" She reached up to kiss me then said, "I sang it because it is a song of happiness and I haven't been happy like this for such a long time." She held me tightly for a minute or so, then kissed me again and unwrapped herself from me. Picking up the coffee cups, we moved through to the lounge and sat down on the rug by the coffee table. I stroked her cheek and gently asked, "Have you really not been happy? Even before you found out about Dave?" "No, not really," she spoke with a thoughtful look on her face. "It's funny, looking back on it now, I can see we had so little in common I don't know why I loved him as much as I did - and I did! I was devastated when I found out he'd been cheating on me." I started to interrupt her, "you don't have to talk about it..." She shook her head. "No, I want to. I need to get it straight in my own mind too." She paused, considering. "I can see now, Dave was a very selfish person. Everything he did was for himself and he rarely thought about other people's feelings, not even mine. That was true in bed as well as out of it." She paused again, as if remembering. I gently encouraged her, "I wondered about that. You said some strange things upstairs when we were...," I wasn't sure what words to use to finish the sentence. "About never coming by oral sex, you mean? Yes, it's true, and it's also what I mean about Dave being selfish. He rarely went down on me and if he did, it was a few quick licks and then he'd stick his dick in me. I never had an orgasm like you gave me. In fact, he rarely gave me an orgasm at all. If I wanted one I usually had to diddle myself after he'd finished." She chuckled, "I think I've had more orgasms with you in the last couple of hours that I had with Dave in the last year!" I kissed her. "Did he not like oral sex, then?" I asked. "Oh, he liked receiving it well enough. He often wanted me to suck him off, but he'd always come in my mouth and then that was it - he'd finished. Selfish bastard. I never knew what I was missing until today. You stopped me and then made sure I was satisfied first. That had never happened before." "Never?" I asked. "No," she answered with a wry smile, "Dave is the only one. Was the only one. We got together at school, he was the best looking boy and I was the prettiest girl, it seemed sort of inevitable. We married as soon as he finished university. I wasn't a virgin by then, but I'd never entertained going with anyone else." I stroked her thigh with my fingertips. "Poor Ellie," I murmured. "What a fool he was to throw you away." She smiled and ran her hands over my chest, "a fool and worse," she said, "but enough of him, I want you!" and she moved in to kiss me. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to rise to the occasion again, but the passion in her kisses, the feel of her body against me, the urgency of her need, these feelings combined to bring about a longing in me too and I felt my erection rising to meet her desire. We made love there on the rug. It wasn't just 'sex', it was a time of intimacy of the deepest kind, a slow and tender melting together as we embraced and I entered into her, holding her closely but gently to me. We made love, holding each other for a long time, moving slowly and delicately together, exploring each other with tenderness and gentleness. We made love, no hurry, no frantic rush to climax, but silent caresses and kisses and touches. We made love, until finally, the urgency for fulfilment arose and our movement became faster, our kisses more intense, then, with Ellie gasping and squirming beneath me we came together, our juices mingling in a passionate union of bodies and souls and we fell back, exhausted. We lay together for a while, our breathing slowing as we recovered together. I held her close to me and she wrapped her arms around my chest, lying half on me with one leg thrown over mine. I wanted to stay there forever. # We were jerked back to awareness by the shrill ringing of a phone. Ellie uncurled herself from me and ran over to the table to answer it. I propped myself up on my elbows to watch her move. Though I could only year Ellie's side of the conversation, it was obviously a friend of hers. "Oh, Hi...Yes, I'm fine... Really, I'm doing OK, I'm getting my act together again... Yes, do come round soon... What, today?... When? There's no need... Really... OK, see you soon then. Bye" She hung up and pulled face. "Susie's coming round." She said, not sounding happy about it at all. "Susie?" I asked. "A friend from work. She's worried about me. I told her what happened on Sunday and said I was taking a few days off. I was supposed to go in today, and she's concerned for me. She wants to come and cheer me up!" She knelt over me and kissed me. "I don't want her to come, I want to stay here with you, but she wouldn't be put off. Thought I was moping." I kissed her and caressed her breasts that were hanging down in front of me, teasing her nipples with my fingertips. "Do you want me to go?" I asked. "No," she answered, "but it would be less complicated if you did. I haven't worked out what to tell her yet." She sighed and shivered, "If you don't stop doing that to my boobs, she'll arrive to find me shagging you senseless right here!" I laughed, but didn't stop teasing her nipples, neither did she pull away. "Three times in one afternoon is enough," I said, "I'm only human,you know!" "Only three?" she giggled. "I lost count of mine around about half a dozen!" She reached down and stroked my cock, but it was beyond responding. She stood up again and pulled at my arms, "come on," she said, "Susie will be here soon, I'd just as soon leave explanations for another day. Go and get your clothes. # Ten minutes later we were both dressed and she was kissing me good-bye on the doorstep. She whispered one final thing in my ear and pushed me off down the drive. I reluctantly turned and headed off towards my empty home. I was only about three houses down the street when a car passed me and turned into her drive, I'd only just left in time. I carried on, smiling at Ellie's last words to me. "I'll see you tomorrow," she had said, "at the station. I'll be the one in the white cotton dress, standing in the sunlight," and then she had added in a whisper, "and I won't be wearing any panties!" The End Angel 1. This is a new one for her. This never happened before. It's unfortunate, as well as unexpected. It's not convenient. She's had a lot of boyfriends and she's had a lot of other boys in between the boyfriends. She leads an active free-spirited life and that's not something she's ever gonna apologize for. This is the fucking twenty first century. And she's always honest, as much as possible. Makes it clear to guys what she wants and what she doesn't, what can happen and what won't. She's not one of the cliché heartbreaker types, stringing along a whole collection of helpless idiots thinking they mean more to her than they do. She keeps things up front and straightforward and simple. Anyway, she tries to. Tries her best. She has a lot of sex. She's a college girl with a good figure, and she's enjoying her youth and her freedom while it lasts. Opportunities and options are always available to her; it's not something she has to work hard at. She's lucky that way and she knows it. She's blessed, in fact. Doesn't question it or waste it. She takes what God or whoever gave her and puts it to use. Would seem ungrateful not to. So not a week goes by where she doesn't get it on with somebody, at least once. And usually, to be frank, it happens much more frequently. It's not always a different dude; they ain't all just disposable flings. Since college life started, she's had several decent steady relationships that lasted several decent months before they'd run their course and it was time to move on. Then of course there have been other periods of varying lengths where she hasn't wanted to get into anything serious, and ended up working her way through an impressively large number of individual encounters. Angel doesn't feel a preference for one lifestyle over the other; both have their pros and cons. It's nice to be able to keep switching back and forth, depending who she meets. Currently, she's in one of the unattached phases again. And tonight she's with a guy named Johnny. She's never hooked up with a Johnny before. There have been around a half dozen Johns, and one of her longer-lasting boyfriends had the last name Johnson, but this guy tonight, if it matters (and of course it doesn't, why would it?) happens to be her first Johnny. He's your basic standard-issue frat boy type, personality-wise, but actually the best-looking guy she's picked up in a while, and not just his face. He's a real well put-together package. She made a good pick tonight, even better than she'd thought. She hadn't expected him to turn out so cut when she got his clothes off, and his equipment is what she always refers to in her own head (never out loud) as Goldilocks (not too big, not too small, just right). She met him about an hour and a half hour ago playing pool with some of last year's dorm acquaintances in her second favorite campus bar. Zeroed in on the guy pretty much the second she saw him. It's usually like that for her, at least with casual hook-up's. She never has to waste a lot of time dithering about it like most of her close friends seem to do, male or female, in the same situation. They'll take most of the night making their minds up and building up courage. For her, it's more like a reflex. She just always somehow knows, right away, soon as the right guy pops into sight. Like: "Oh, okay. This is the guy I'm gonna fuck tonight." Hardly ever gets it wrong. Maybe twice so far—and even then, the second time, she still ended up nailing that guy eventually, just at a later date. Angel never feels like she has to worry about whether she's made the right choice, or if she's gonna get turned down. That just doesn't happen. Especially since, the world being what it is, she never has to be the one that makes the play, beyond your basic initial semi-subtle signaling-of-interest. Then the guy she's targeted always swings into line, like clockwork, to ask the obligatory questions ... Never takes long, either. John had been wearing a ballcap in a stupid angle on his head, trying to look hiphop or something. That was what first drew her eye to him—how stupid his hat looked. She wanted to go over and straighten it or slap it off his head. Then she noticed the rest of him, and how good the rest of him looked, and the realization hit her. It was almost rueful, at first. Like: "I can't believe I'm gonna fuck this guy in that stupid hat. Why can't it be one of these other dudes that learned how to dress himself right when he grew up?" But at the same time, she knew it was bound to happen, no sense fighting it. She could feel it stirring in her belly like she always did, a little squeezing fist in there, pressing downward, and her heartrate had sped up, and she felt fresh surges of sweat on her forehead and in her armpits, trying to fight its way through her deodorant. He was the one it was gonna have to be to take care of this, now that he'd set her motor running. And there was the way he wouldn't look at her for the first half hour, like he was too intensely focused on the stupid pool game to have noticed her standing there with the rest of the girls. Yeah, that kind of shit was always a dead giveaway. Now not even two hours later, they're back at her apartment on her couch, without any clothes on, except when he took that stupid cap off he jammed it on her head in the same dumb hiphop slant, and she let him do it, and then she's let him shove his stiff penis inside her deep as he can go and he's thrusting, thrusting, thrusting and she takes it and takes it and takes all he's got, absorbing all his effort and savoring each stroke. They're exactly what she wanted from him. He keeps grunting like an ape and the feelings he's giving her make her grunt back every time the same way. "Guhrrh." "Guhrrh." "Guhrrh." "Guhrrh." It's a good clean honest lowdown no nonsense fucking, is what this is. Hell yeah. He's pretty damn trashed, but thankfully at least so far it's not causing any problems. She herself is Goldilocks drunk (not too little, not too much)—this is another particular talent of hers, achieving and maintaining that ideal balance of intoxication. It lets her steer things more than she sometimes gets to, when she gets going with a brand new guy, at least not without making a fuss about it and putting her foot down, which she doesn't always like to do. So she's got him in the perfect position. She's got him fucking her in her favorite way. With both of them on their sides, him behind her, and with one hand propping her upper leg high out of their way from under her knee. He's got the right angle inside, to hit all the right places, and he's set a good firm pace but he's not rushing it, and she can rub herself while he's going, like she likes to do. Her orgasm is close and it's gonna be real nice. Only there's a catch. She finds she keeps thinking about another guy. She keeps thinking about the things that happened to her the night before. She can't stop replaying the experience in her head. The whole point of fucking this new guy John tonight was to cleanse all that other stuff from her mind. It doesn't seem to be working like it was supposed to. This isn't something that's ever happened to her before. Probably it's a pretty common problem for other people. Not for her. Angel doesn't lead the kind of life where she ends up fucking somebody she doesn't want as much as some other guy, trying to make do. It's not a position her life puts her in. When she wants a guy, she gets him. Like, pretty much always. Every time. There's never any need for compromise or equivocation. And if say she's been dating a guy and gets tired of him and suddenly starts wanting somebody else that she's met, all she has to do is dump the first guy and go get the other one. Simple as that. Except not this time. Not, it seems, after what happened to her yesterday. This isn't going to prevent her from coming—that's the weirdest part, and also the most disturbing. But she knows—she can tell—that when she reaches that orgasm, when she screams it out, it's not gonna be because of John and his dick inside her, or from her hand rubbing her box as he's fucking it. Or not completely because of those things—they are only helping the process along. What's really getting her off is her memory. Thinking of the other guy, thinking of his face, the last time she saw it. The hatred and the disgust on it when he looked down on her. 2. Ran across Phil by chance in the fucking grocery store, of all places. It had been a fairly long time since the whole mess went down. Nearly half a year. Still didn't feel any better about it. Just glimpsing him across the produce section brought it all back in a rush. Put a horrible taste in her mouth, and made her face all hot and itchy. He didn't know she was there. She'd ended up following him around the place for a while. Stalking him, basically. Feeling like a moron and hating herself the whole time, but not able to stop. Trying to decide what to do. What to say when she went up to him, if she did. If she should. If at this point it would make any difference. Which was doubtful. But she wanted to fix things if she could. At least make a last effort, for the sake of her own conscience. Whether or not he accepted her apologies, that wasn't the point—she would at least be able to say she had tried. The whole thing with him, it was one of the few times she'd seriously screwed up a relationship. She'd been wishy-washy about her feelings, and then outright dishonest, and screwed the guy over pretty bad by the time it was finally all done with. Almost cost him his job. And he hadn't deserved it. She could recognize that now. He hadn't done anything wrong. This is why you should never get involved like that with people at your work, if you can help it. Phil had been her manager at a pretty cool video production facility, and for a good while she thought he was the best boss she'd ever had. Looking back, she could admit it was 'cause he'd let get away with stuff that he shouldn't have. And she'd taken advantage of that, shamelessly, until it got too far out of hand. Eventually he couldn't cover for her bullshit anymore. She got demoted to the reception office, answering the phones and doing mindless data-entry. So she talked a lot of shit after that happened. Spread around a lot of poison about him, with the rest of the staff. Like the demotion only happened 'cause she wouldn't date him. Actually it wasn't him that demoted her. She found that out later. Made her feel pretty shitty about herself. It had been his boss that made the call. That explained why her stories hadn't got him shitcanned like they were intended to. The top guy knew better. There had been a connection between them, while Phil and her worked together. He was a good mentor, and she had really looked up to him. Started as an older brother kind of feeling, and then gradually shifted ... Nothing had ever happened, though. Nothing ever would have. Probably. They had a few longish cards-on-the-table talks about it. Neither one of them wanted to risk fucking up things at their job. It was agreed they wouldn't cross that line. Plus, at the time, she had a steady boyfriend. Though it was one of her less successful, less stable relationships, one of those lingering on-and-off things, really good when it was good but really crappy when it went wrong. So there were numerous occasions she toyed with the notion of what it would be like if/when she dropped that other guy for good and replaced him with Phil. Maybe eventually if things had gone on as they were going, she would have put it to the test. Phil would have still put up a token resistance, but she was confident she could have broken through that without much difficulty. The guy didn't have a lot of luck with ladies, with the kind of quiet nerdy nightowl life he lived. And she was hot. Certainly the hottest chick to give him any attention in ages. Let's not kid ourselves. She could have bagged him any time she wanted, if she hadn't held off. Then when she lost her position, she used the best ammunition available. It was better than facing up to her own shortcomings. All the important projects she'd delayed or screwed up in umpteen ways, little things and big things, from just not paying enough attention to her tasks, not putting in enough time. 'Cause she'd known she could count on good ol' Phil to catch and clean up her goofs without too many other people noticing. Until suddenly that was no longer the case. She'd been furious. Felt so betrayed. So she betrayed him right back. Did her best to turn him into the villain. Didn't work. Didn't get her position back, didn't get him fired. Finally she gave up and quit that place altogether. Now she works in a sandwich shop with a bunch of potheads. Hardly a step up, huh? 3. That night, pretty late, she got a little tipsy or maybe a bit more than that, and she finally walked/stumbled over to his apartment—took like half an hour to get over there—and knocked on his door. She'd never been over there before, at least not inside. But she knew where it was—neither of them had cars, and a couple times this other guy at the production office had given them both rides home at the end of their shifts, and Phil had got dropped off first both times 'cause he lived closer, so that was how she still remembered the spot—and he hadn't moved, like she was afraid might have happened. And he opened the door and looked at her like she was a crazy person. Or like he was expecting her to pull out a hatchet and attack him. But could she blame him? "Please," she said, "I just wanna talk. I wanna straighten things out. I know I fucked up. I know it's been forever. Still. Will you let me in and let me try to explain?" So he had. Only after that somehow it rapidly turned into a different kind of thing. It wasn't what she planned, or thought she planned. Maybe she'd been kidding herself. She didn't say the stuff she intended to. Instead she started kissing him. 'Cause that was easier. And 'cause she was drunk, and more than the Goldilocks level, quite a bit more. And also just on account of the fact she was a highly sexual person. This felt like the best way to get across to him everything she needed to get across. No farting around. It was more efficient than words would be, and more honest too, and more meaningful. This would fix things. She'd just fuck the guy, like he'd always wanted to her to do. That would settle everything bad between them. No sweat. He tasted like coffee. To him, she must have tasted of beer, with maybe some undertones of the Chinese she had for dinner, couple hours back. He wasn't very responsive to her mouth for the first minute or so. Tried to wriggle away from her, in fact. "What the hell are you doing? What are you thinking? Are you bullshitting me? You think you can just walk in here after all this time and—" She shushed him. She had his pants open already and his hard-on in both her hands. Already felt like he was right on the brink of popping. She'd have to be careful not to make him shoot too quick and embarrass him. She made him sit down on his couch and knelt on it next to him. She didn't go down on the floor in front of him—she didn't like doing that for guys. They get too excited and make too much out of it, when a girl lowers herself that much. She didn't mind sucking cock—she loved doing it, in fact—but not on her knees on the floor. She'd only do it from above, with the guy flat on his back, or if he wanted to sit up, she'd do it bending in from right beside him on his level like she was going to do this time. Still he tried to stop her, clinging to her hair and her chin. "Wait. Wait. Take your shirt off, at least. Will you at least take your shirt off?" "If you want," she said, and pulled it off. "Will you ... will you take off the bra too?" She laughed. "Whatever you want," she said, and shrugged it aside, "Anything you want." "Anything?" he said, in a little boy's voice, with his eyes popping as he groped her boobs and flicked at her nipples with his fingernails. That made her give him little gasps. She exaggerated the feelings a little for him, making herself tremble. "Anything at all?" he asked. "Anything," she repeated, panting theatrically. "Take off the rest then. Take off everything." She laughed again. "Is that what you want? You want me all naked first?" "Yes. I want that. All." "I'm only gonna blow you," she said, "You're not gonna get to fuck me." She didn't have any condoms with her and she wouldn't bet any money on him having any ready on hand in this place. "Doesn't matter. I wanna see all of you. I wanna see you get naked. For me." "Okay then. You get naked too." She got up and kicked her sneakers off and wiggled out of her jeans and then her panties. She hadn't been wearing any socks with the sneakers. Then she got back on her knees on the couch next to him. He hadn't listened to her—he hadn't removed any more of his clothes while he watched her take off the rest of hers. "You never thought you'd get to see me like this, did you? Not after everything went ... went wrong." "No." "But now look. Hey. I'm showing you everything. Do you like it?" "Yes. You're beautiful." He fumbled at her nipples again, pinching and tugging at them. "Oh. Huuhhuh. You sure like my tits, don't you?" "Yes. And your nipples." "Ohhuurrh! Not that hard, okay? It feels good but you can't do it that hard." He nodded, and lightened his touch. She rewarded him with another slightly more appreciative-sounding moan. "Ohhhooohhh. Good job. There you go. Yeah yeaahaahhuuhh." "Angel," he said. And the look on his face was like he was gonna die. "I just ... twenty minutes ago, I just beat off, and I was thinking about you when I did it." She laughed. "Seriously?" "Saw you in the grocery store, just for a second. Didn't think you noticed me at all but ... hadn't thought about you in a long time. Hadn't let myself. And then ... couldn't quit ..." "I know. I understand. It's all right. It's fine. You still got hard again. Look how hard you've got, soon as I touched it. You like when I touch it this way? You do, don't you? Tell me." "Oh. Oh God. Oh. Angel. I can't believe this is happening." "You like when I stroke it? Do you like it better slow like this or fast like this? Tell me. Which is better? Which one?" "Ohh! I don't know! I don't know! Both! Oh God! I can't take this! Angel I can't!" "I know, I know. Easy. Breathe. It's all right. See? No rush. You won't finish too fast, I won't make you. Relax and trust me." "Ohhuuh. Oh please. Your hand. Your hand is ... It's ... God. Uhr. Uhr. Uhnn." "You don't have to hold it all in like that. You can make as much noise as you want. Don't be embarrassed. I like hearing you like this. It's hot." "Angel. Angel. Why are you doing this? After everything you said about me before ... Thought you hated my guts." "Hush, forget about all that shit. Don't think back on it all, it's not worth it." "But—but I thought—but you—" "Here, stop that, come on, you gotta get all the way naked too," she insisted, pulling up on his shirt and the T underneath. He raised his arms and let her peel them off him, knocking his glasses crooked. She straightened them for him. His jeans and boxers were already all the way down around his ankles—he kicked them clear, and his shoes with them. He still had socks on and if she had any on herself she would have let him keep them, but she didn't, so she lunged down there and plucked them off his feet. Now they were both equal. All the way naked together. That helped. That felt necessary. With him for whatever reason this all felt like a slightly bigger, scarier deal than it normally did, when she did this with guys. Just because of the history and the drama and the tension built up so long between them. It didn't usually make her embarrassed to get naked, but that time it did. Or maybe not exactly embarrassed. Just vulnerable. She didn't feel the usual rush of sexual power and supremacy over him that she normally did with the guys she chose to fuck. This time that power felt like it was all on his side. Angel It wasn't, though. Just guilt made her feel that way. Her sense of obligation. Actually he was completely in her control, so long as she kept her hands busy on his cock. She could play with him like this the rest of the night, if she wanted. She wondered how long she could stretch the game out, driving him out of his mind. Well, one sure way to find out ... Only then, for that brief moment while she wasn't pumping him, since she still bent over at an angle across his lap, from reaching down to his feet to get at his socks, he took advantage. He grabbed a tight hold of the back of her neck and pinned her down in place. Pressing her belly hard as he could against his cock, at the same time. He put his other hand on her bare upraised ass, and squeezed her there. Too hard. She gasped and tried to lift up. He didn't let her. Then he said. "Anything I want, right? That's what you said. This is what I want, Angel." She didn't understand at first. Taken too much by surprise. "What? I don't—" He cut her off with a stinging slap across her bottom. "Phil! Shit!" He gave her another. "All the lies you told. All those fucking horrible lies! And after everything I did for you. The whole goddamn time. I tried so hard to do the right thing, didn't I? Didn't I keep telling you? I just wanted to keep things like they were. I tried to just be your friend and be a good manager and never push things beyond that. You were the one that always kept pushing the other way. You know you were! And then you turned around and told everyone—all that bullshit—my God. My God! And there was nothing I could say that anybody was gonna believe. Not deep down." "I know," she said, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. That's why I'm here. That's why I came." He spanked her again. And again. And again. "You lying selfish bitch. Lying! Selfish! Bitch!" She had never been spanked before. Not like this. Never would have imagined it would feel this way. So many different terrifying feelings all at once ... Blinding explosions of feeling, every time he smacked her again, but not just on her ass. Naked, pinned, helpless, disgraced ... She felt the explosions all through her every part of her body, and she felt them in the depths of her soul. Sounds silly and pretentious to put it that way, doesn't it? But that was how it was, at the time. While it was happening to her. He went on and on, ranting: "I was in love with you, you know. I knew you didn't feel the same and you never would. I never pushed for more from you than you wanted to give. Did I? Tell me! Tell me the fucking truth! Did I?" "No! You never did! I'm sorry. It was me. I fucked it all up. It was all me. I admit it!" She was crying now. Not bawling like a baby but really crying like she hadn't done in years. "I admit it and I'm sorry! All right? That's what you wanna hear?" He kept spanking her. Harder than before, harder every time he struck. "Say it again! Say it louder! Come on! I don't believe you yet! Make me believe you!" She obeyed, best as she could. Screaming. Pleading. "Oh God! Oh God I'm sorry! I mean it! I mean it! Please believe me!" "You betrayed me! You betrayed everything good and true between us! You killed it all and you broke my heart! You made everyone think I was a sick! A sick pathetic sick ..." he ran out of words, in his frenzy, "sick sick sicko!" That would have made her burst out laughing if she wasn't too busy hollering for mercy. "How could you do that? Why would you do that? Why couldn't you just—just—just—" That was when she realized he was crying harder than she was. "Angel! Angel!" Every time he shouted her name, he walloped her blazing ass again, worse and worse. "Angel! Angel!" And somehow it was perfect. It was exactly right. Exactly what she needed, in that moment. It hurt so bad, but she was enjoying it. It had turned into a better feeling than feeling pleasure. It was better than being fucked and coming. Or maybe not, maybe it was just making her come. And maybe that was the only real reason she had liked the experience—because it had shocked her system into an orgasm. Purely in defense, to block out the agony and the horror and the humiliation of Phil's ruthless punishment. That was only a theory, though, that occurred to her later on. While it was happening, she couldn't tell what was the hell was going on in her own brain anymore, or what any of it might have meant. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Fuck! I'm fucking sorreeee! Please forgive me! Pleeease!" She felt him ejaculate under the greasy friction of her sweat-drenched stomach as she bounced and thrashed on top of his cock. Then with a cry like she'd electrocuted him, he let go of her neck and shoved her off his lap to the floor. When she rolled on her side and looked up at him, his cock was still hard and rampant, same size as before or maybe, impossibly, bigger somehow, or that was how it looked to her, even though he just came and she could see streaks of his jizz dribbled down the underside of it, and could feel the thick splotches of the rest of stuff clinging on her skin that he had fired out down there and smeared under her navel through the light blonde fuzz of her Happy Trail. She wanted to suck it, soon as she saw it and saw that he was still enflamed. An irresistible mindless compulsion. And she wanted to do it on her knees for him, on the floor. Breaking her own rule, just this once and just for him. The man that had punished her, for she knew in this one specific instance she had genuinely and irrefutably deserved it. She swiveled herself around into the proper appropriate position, kneeling naked and beaten at his feet in abject submission and homage, and presented her open mouth and her tongue to his cock, and to him. And this was the worst part. When he didn't put it in there. Instead he just said. "Get the fuck out of here. Get your fucking clothes on and get out." "No," she said, "Wait. Please." "Get out! Get out of here and don't you ever fucking come back!" 4. When she got home she went into her room and locked the door, and then took all her clothes off again to examine her aching butt in the full length mirror on the back of the door. It wasn't covered in bruises like she expected it to be. Just a little red. It matched the color of her face, she noticed, frowning at herself. She touched her coochie, almost without meaning to, and found that it was dripping wet. She hadn't realized, believe it or not. Why had this happened? She wasn't a kinky person. She liked natural healthy sex. Lots of it but with nothing weird. In her opinion, most people with freaky hangup's and fetishes ended up that way just probably 'cause they didn't or couldn't get enough proper regular sex. Yet just look at her right now. Not only was it lubricated, it had got highly sensitized. It felt like it leapt up and clenched against her fingers, all by itself. If she kept touching it, she could very easily, very rapidly, make herself come again. That was what she did. The sensations built up so strong she couldn't keep standing upright. Had to get down on her knees. She kept looking at her reflection the whole time. Her own sorrowful eyes. How could Phil have rejected her, when she was looking up at him like this? In this exact same pose, with these exact pleading eyes. It didn't make sense. When she came, she made herself howl. "I'm SORRY!" That wasn't something that usually happened when she pleasured herself—vocalizing when she finished. Not that it was something she did very often, either. Rarely was there a need. Usually had a guy to do the job for her, whenever she wanted, and as much as she wanted. She wondered if Phil had jerked off again after he kicked her out. He probably had. Or else he was still beating himself off right that second, at the same time as she was fingering her cooch. Funny thought. She could picture him. She could picture the mess he was making all over himself, because of her and what they'd done to each other. If the idiot hadn't made her leave, he wouldn't have had to do that. He could be fucking her right now. Any position he wanted, hard as he wanted, long as he wanted. She'd probably have let him facial her at the end like a porn star, if he wanted. But he hadn't wanted that. Or at least he hadn't wanted to let it happen. That made her start crying again, as she took a shower, and she was still sniveling when she crawled into her bed. Had to stay lying on her stomach the whole stupid awful night. Angel Sara giggled, her long arms wrapped around her girlfriend's deliciously plump frame, and pulled Cassie on top of her. She mercilessly smooched the squirming woman, as Cassie herself laughed and tried to fight back. "Angel, stop! I really do, honest!" the shorter woman cried out, trapped in her partner's strong yet gentle grip. She pouted and wriggled a little in Sara's embrace, looking up at her and harrumphing comically. "Awwh, is my cutie Cassie gonna use her maaaaagic powers on me to make me stop?" grinned Sara, as she pushed Cassie off to the side into the pillow-lined back of the sofa, taking care not to truly hurt her. She bit her lip in mischievous inspiration, the glitteringly white enamel sparkling briefly in the light. Her dishevelled girlfriend looked up, before spotting the look on her lover's face and flushing a deep pink, her snow-white cheeks blossoming with warmth. "I-I-I am telling the truth, y-you know, I do know how to do it!" She sounded quiet and subdued, watching the tall, dark-skinned woman begin to swing her body seductively towards her, crawling on all fours like a victorious lioness. She tugged off the thin cotton blouse she had been wearing up 'til that point, revealing her smooth, supple skin spread like warm butter over toned and sinuous muscles. Her chest was bare, and her soft breasts hung slightly as she returned to her predatory pose. Cassie's eyes found themselves drawn magnetically to her girlfriend's dark, firm nipples, and she licked her lips with undisguised desire as they quivered with every slinking, seductive motion Sara's lithe body performed. "A-and it's not magic" she said petulantly, pouting a little even whilst the blush spread further across her pale cheeks as she watched the undulations, "it's skill. I learnt how to do it o-off a friend, you kn-". The trickle of words was dammed by a soft, loving kiss, laid delicately across Cassie's pale pink lips by Sara's own as Cassie felt her face enclosed by her Angel's cool, soothing touch. Her words melted away as she closed her eyes, and as Sara's arms snuggled her into her lover's warm breast, Cassie felt her muscles slowly, softly relax. Their lips parted company, and she gazed upwards adoringly into the eyes of the woman embracing her. "My beautiful Angel..." she whispered, "and yet, by the gods you'd make a good succubus". She giggled and languidly kissed the underside of her girlfriend's breast. Sara giggled back at her and laid her down again in her comfortable spot on the sofa. Her hand lovingly caressed her girlfriend's cute features, and her hand cupped Cassie's cheek and chin briefly before she began to pull her fingers down. Sara trailed her slender digits along the underside of Cassie's chin, down her neck and into her generous bust. Cassie's blush increased, but her wonderfully heavy muscles felt so completely relaxed that she simply sighed deeply, a warm smile spreading across her lips as she enjoyed her lover's skilful touches. Sara smiled down affectionately at her obvious pleasure, and continued to trail the fingers of her left hand across the exposed portion of Cassie's breasts. Meanwhile, the right hand smoothly glided along the soft, generous curves of the blissfully unaware girl, before deftly beginning to unbutton the androgynously plain shirt of her cute plaything. Cassie bit her lip, and her eyelids began to flutter slowly open, but a swift kiss from her angel-turned-succubus made her moan breathily and simply sink deeper into the warm, welcoming nest of cushions. Sara's mouth upturned slowly, smiling a deep, almost dangerous smile as she finished unbuttoning her girlfriend's shirt before turning both hands to the reveal. She slipped her fingers under the fabric of Cassie's shirt, and slowly teased the supine girl's top apart as though drawing back a pair of delicate silk curtains. Sara bit her lip, pupils dilating with sudden desire, and both hands descended to unfasten her prey's lacy black bra. She bit down a little harder and leant over to Cassie's ear, her long hair falling like a dark veil across their faces. "My, my, what a naughty girl we have here..." whispered Sara, her fingers tugging gently at Cassie's bra. "A front-buckle bra, just for me. Somebody was feeling awfully presumptive when she slipped into this cute little number, wasn't she pet?" Sara's words dripped lusciously down into the ears of her willing victim, a deep, rich, sensual voice that oozed sweet chocolate into the ears of the blissfully sleeping young girl below her. Too deeply relaxed even for the fine motor control required for speech, Cassie merely nodded and let out a needy whimper, managing the coordination to arch her now-bare breasts upwards into the attention of the woman above her. The sweet, indulgent voice let out a small chuckle, and Cassie's world exploded with pleasure as her nipples were suddenly ensnared, before being squeezed firmly and given a light but definite tug each. She whimpered louder still in pleasure, before managing to part her lips in speech, coming out as barely more than coherent moans. "A-A-Angel, that... ooohh m-more... that feels soooo good... f-f-firmer, just a-a-a little firrrrrmer..." her words merging into an ecstatic purr. She lapsed back into short, sharp gasps of delighted sensation, eyes still firmly closed and muscles completely relaxed as she submitted joyfully to the temptation of her sinfully fallen Angel. Another deep, rich sound caressed the air, a sound that would be called a giggle if it weren't laced so heavily with deepest lust. Sara's right hand remained firmly pressed against Cassie's left nipple, whilst her left dropped lower to the button of her lover's loose shorts. Cool fingers pressed against soft flesh, and a loud pop hit the air as the button came undone. Sara leaned over her willing prey once more, and kissed each eyelid in turn before lowering her lips to Cassie's ear. "Just relax, pet, just relax for me and listen. Let my voice be your guide... Let my touch be your anchor..." Her right hand fingers tugged rhythmically at Cassie's nipple, whilst Sara's left hand began to slowly unzip her girlfriend's clothing. The blissfully relaxing girl would have been writhing if she had the energy to do so, but Sara's smooth, mellifluous voice was like a sweet tide of inescapable molasses, insistently pushing any thoughts other than further pleasure, other than deeper relaxation. "My sweet little Cassie, she's such a good pet. She know she can trust her Angel, she knows that Angel wants what's best." A mewling nod invited a slender hand to gently stroke Cassie's hair, soothing her nods and relaxing the muscles in her head and neck beyond the point where such movements were necessary, or even possible. "She knows that Angel wants her to relax, she knows that she can relax by breathing nice and deeply now, deeply and calmly." Cassie's breathing slowed, her gasps for air shifting into slow, drawing breaths. "That's it my sweet girl, my sweet little Cassie." Lips met briefly, and parted slowly, every touch of Sara's lips upon her body another weight on her ever-sinking mind. "Sweet Cassie knows that relaxing can only be complete if she relaxes her mind. She knows she's safe to do this, because her Angel is here and Angel will guard her." A sigh of assent, the only means of communication still available to a mind so deeply ensnared by its own bonds, issued from her lips. Another kiss, another tug on firm, full nipples, another shuddering gasp as the near-orgasmic bliss of subspace washed over her blank, empty mind. Gauging that she was now deeply relaxed enough to remain under without further stimulation, Sara took her hand off Cassie's breast and moved to straddle the girl. Both hands were used to guide her hips into a position where her bum was off the sofa, and Sara used this opportunity to tug her shorts down to around her mid-thigh. Cassie writhed weakly in pleasure, but her mind was too far gone to awake from this submissive bliss in which she was entangled, even if she had wanted to do so. A little further work, and Sara's prize was exposed, a pair of soak-stained panties that almost glistened in the light. Sara's hand slid up Cassie's inner thigh, grinning mischievously at the increased volume of her amorous gasps. Her slim fingers played around the elastic of the blue checked panties, before slipping deeply inside. Sara giggled almost girlishly at the tiny bucking motion that Cassie made as she detected the intrusion, only serving to invite her hand ever deeper within. Fingers entwined with a thick muff of pubic hair, and Sara slowly parted it to reveal her lover's inflamed pink inner lips. A groan of ecstatic bliss shook Cassie's body, but her mind had long since associated such pleasures with deepening relaxation and she simply slipped deeper and deeper under with every second of stimulation. Sara simply admired the beautiful sight before her for some time, a finger absentmindedly trailing around the puffy, wanting flesh of the desperately needy woman before her. Her mouth turned up at the edges as her breathing increased in rapidity and depth, and she plunged two fingers deep within the warm, inviting canal of Cassie's vagina. A soft, high-pitched keening noise escaped Cassie's hips as she twitched and writhed under the sensational assault. The keening increased in volume, barely more than a speaking voice, and yet it was the closest that the near-paralysed woman could come to a scream of desire. There were no thoughts in her mind except a swirling, churning maelstrom of lust and desire for the woman who was even now tenderly, mercilessly, lovingly, torturously engaged in spreading her fingers wider and wider inside the slick, muscular channel of her submissive. Every breath she took was a shuddering exultation unto the pleasures of the flesh, and her clenching Kegel muscles vibrated with silent homily to the Angel before her. A nail stroked with perfect delicacy over that most sensitive region of a woman's anatomy, and at the same time the pad of a questing finger touched the firm inner extension of Cassie's hard, desperate clitoris. A violent spasm shot through Cassie's body, and her back arched under an onslaught of sensation. It seemed as though a barrage of powerful electrical shocks were striking her willing, eager form one after the other, and the hard, passionate, deeply primal sound of a woman in orgasm shattered the air. Her mind was no more, her body nothing other than a memory. Her past and her future collided as one with her present, and sent her spinning away into a void of endless bliss. Every second felt as though it lasted a lifetime, and her broken mind simply whimpered and fell into the pit of eternal pleasure. Cassie fell. Cassie was lost. A sensation, bright and clear. A sensation, spearing through the thick, endless fog of post-orgasmic bliss. What was that sensation? Cassie recognised it. It wasn't sight, for her eyes were closed. Was it a noise? No, it had a shape and a location. Perhaps it was taste? But there was nothing in her mouth. Her mind span, her brain flashed, interpreting and deciphering. She was lost in the void; she had fallen so deep, and she could fall no further. Every thought was its own, there were no patterns, no conclusions. Was it a smell? It felt like a smell, for it had pleasure and memories and emotions attached to it. But smells didn't have locations. Could it be touch? Yes! It was a touch! Lips parted as the body mewled in pleasure, but Cassie's mind was elsewhere and was so happy she had found out where the sensation was coming from. The sensation repeats, and this time Cassie's mind fixates on that sensation. Cassie's mind remembers... lips. She remembers a woman, a goddess, an Angel kissing them. Cassie's mind remembers the feeling of leaning up... of kissing back... "Come up now my pretty little pet, come up to me" Another sensation. This time it is sound, but what does it mean? "That's it, joining the dots now, feeling your mind draw a pattern as it listens to my words" A pattern. A feeling of kisses, and a familiar, loving voice. Cassie's mind remembers a connection between them, but... Another kiss. Another sound. "Follow my voice back now, follow me up from the empty place" Cassie's mind felt the voice pull her into a warm embrace, and lift her upwards as the cobwebs of emptiness dropped away. Patterns flashed in her mind as senses reconnected, images rushed towards her as she felt memories return. Cassie, she was Cassie, in Cassie's body. The body- HER body, was being cuddled warmly. She cuddled back, remembering that she was at home with her beloved. Muscles began to work once more, and she found to her delight that she could control them. Eyelids fluttered open, and looked upwards. A pair of perfectly beautiful, perfectly loving eyes were smiling down at her. Her heart stopped just for a second. Her breathing ceased. And then a finger placed to her lips. "Now, now sweetie, that won't do at all. You must always keep yourself safe. And breathe for me, pet" An inhalation. She suspects she made it, but it doesn't concern the woman above her and so she does not care. Her mind still feels like it's flapping loose in the breeze, anchored only by the solidity of the perfect Angel above her. Angel. It is her Angel. She blinks, and smiles. Her mind drops neatly back into her body, and her eyelids flutter for a few moments as her eyes lose their glassy, vacant sheen. Cassie grinned up at her girlfriend, and giggled mischievously as she slowly extricated herself from Sara's strong arms. Looking down at her somewhat shaky legs, she blushed and went to pull up her panties. As she bent over, grabbing them from around her knees, she felt a finger curl beneath her chin and a thumb press, lightly but firmly, holding her head in place. "Cassie." The rich, deep voice said her name, and sent shivers down her spine. Still held in place, still staring at the taller woman's crotch, she waited for a sign. She felt a slight upward pressure from the finger beneath her chin, guiding her motions for her. She tilted her head upwards, and smiled. "Yes Sara?" She said placidly, feeling both oddly subdued and intensely excited. "I love you" came the reply, and the faces of both girls lit up with happiness. Cassie was released. She pulled her panties up, and located her shorts from behind the sofa, where her mindlessly writhing body had tossed them earlier. She grinned a little, and blushed as she wriggled back into them, sucking in her tummy a bit and then relaxing. Meanwhile, Sara moved to the large, swing opening window, and depressed the wrought iron latch-lock. Her finger ran over the intricate swirled pattern of the blackened iron, and found the thumb pad with practiced ease. Pressing down hard, there was a loud click and the latch lifted, and the windows swung open and drew the cool night air into the illuminated apartment. Her bare chest and only loosely clothed bottom sparkled in the light from the street outside, and she smiled down at the world as she allowed the scent of their recent lovemaking to drift out into the cool night. She felt an arm wrap around her waist, and looked down to see Cassie snuggling up next to her, standing before the window with her eyes fixed on the bright quarter-moon hanging in the sky. "Thank you" she whispered, laying her head against Sara's side and continuing to stare skywards. "You know, you don't need to thank me every time, cutie," replied Sara with a slight chuckle in her voice. It was an endearing little quirk, and one that she would never dream of truly removing from her girlfriend's personality. "I know. I still want to do it though." Sara, too, turned her eyes to the moon, and the watched its shimmering form in silence for about half a minute, standing together. Cassie shivered a little, and Sara noticed that she too was topless in the chill autumn air. "Come, pet," she said mildly, stepping away from the window and moving over to the sofa where they had so recently engaged in their thrilling dalliance. Replacing the cushions and pulling a thick blanket out from the small drawer set into the base, she spread the heavy, tartan fabric over her legs and smiled up at Cassie, still staring, almost transfixed, at the half-orb shining in the sky. "Close the window and come sit with me pet, you know I don't like you getting cold," called Sara from behind her, and her fingers moved automatically to obey. She took one last, fleeting look at the dark, cloudless night, and turned to return to the sofa. Lifting the cover, she snuggled up underneath it and into the arms of the woman inviting her inside. She lay her head down on Sara's tummy, and watched as the television was switched on and some nature documentary about shingleback lizards came on-screen. A hand began to stroke her hair in a loving, possessive way, and she felt her eyes begin to close. She whispered "thank you" once more, softly, and heard her beloved murmur "thank you, pet" in reply. And Cassie slept.