3 comments/ 14395 views/ 2 favorites Intermediary Angel By: RiptideES I was sitting in Phil's Diner over on 34th Street, reading the afternoon edition and nursing my fourth cup of coffee; one cream, two sugars. The cold rain was rolling down the window of the decommissioned railroad dining car, causing the lights on the street to warp into funny shapes. It was almost like the beginning of that old show, The Twilight Zone, where the images warped and waved about before coming into focus. Every once in a while the street outside was illuminated by the bright flash of a lightning strike. At these times, I almost half expected to see some scary looking gremlin looking in at me through the window, just like in that episode with William Shatner flying the red-eye. Instead, I saw a small group of winos huddled in the doorway of the old, boarded up Carmine Theater across the street. Several letters still clung to the marquee. However, there weren't enough to tell me what last played there. Memories lost by an old, run down, decrepit building. I smiled a little to myself, amused at the thought, "That poor building is just like me." Sixteen days of my life were missing. They had happened two years ago and I couldn't remember a thing about them. The frustrating part was that those sixteen days changed my life. No. Scratch that. They tore my life apart. A peal of thunder rolled overhead, shaking me back to reality. Rattles came from the stacks of plates on the counter and I could see little circular ripples on the surface of my drink. I looked around the diner. During the day, the 24-hour diner was a pretty busy place, but at 3 a.m. there weren't many patrons. There was an old woman in the corner booth talking to herself while munching on a piece of wheat toast. Every once in a while, she would glance over at the entrance as if she were expecting someone to come through the door. A balding man sitting at the breakfast counter, his bulk spilling over the red vinyl stool, shoveled in a double order of "2s"; 2 pancakes, 2 eggs, 2 sausages or bacon. On the stool next to him lay a cane that he obviously used for walking. I had to wonder if it would truly hold him if he had to put all of his weight on it. The waitress, Estelle, topped off the man's coffee cup as he grunted his thanks. She then looked my direction questioningly, wondering if I needed a refill. I waved her off and went back to reading how badly the Pit Bulls were doing this season. Normally, minor league baseball was essentially an excuse to go out and get drunk with a bunch of your friends. With the way the dogs were playing this year, it was a piss poor excuse. I took a drink from my cup as I lowered the paper to turn the page and nearly blew coffee out my nose. "What the...!" I blurted. Sitting in the seat across the table from me was a young woman. She was soaked head to toe from the rain which only served to enhance her striking beauty. Her eyes were such a deep blue they were almost a shade of purple. From behind the rain-slick gatherings of black hair plastered to her forehead, she looked into me with those eyes, right to my very soul and said in a soft voice, "You don't belong here." I blinked, confused. "What?" The woman broke off her gaze, looked down at her wet clothing, then scanned the room around her. "I'm sorry," she said, seemingly embarrassed. "Do you mind if I sit here?" "Not at all," I replied. "You just startled me, that's all. I didn't hear you come in or sit down." "Yeah, I do that sometimes," she said with a giggle. She grabbed a napkin from the holder on the table and wiped the rain that was dripping down her cheeks and off her nose. "I got caught in the rain and ducked in here. You looked like a nice man so I sat down." A concerned look came across her face. "I hope I'm not being too forward." "Oh, no," I said, smiling. "It's been a good, long while since I've engaged in any decent conversation. Half the time, I'm afraid I'll end up like that poor woman back there." I indicated the woman in the corner behind me. She looked over my shoulder and then back at me. "Why? What's wrong with her?" she asked. "What's wrong with her? Why, she's cracked. She's always talking to h--" "Herself" is what I'd started to say but when I craned my neck to look at the nutty crone, she was no longer talking to herself. In fact, it seemed she was looking at the young lady across from me. She had this sort of serene look on her face. I couldn't tell for sure, crazy people are hard to read. "Never mind," I said, turning back around. Then I was struck by a thought. "Oh, for Heaven's sake, where are my manners? Can I offer you a cup of coffee? You must be freezing in all that wet stuff." "Yes, please. That would be nice." I caught Estelle's eye and motioned for a second cup for the young lady. I then took the occasion to actually look her over. She was wearing almost all black, at least on her torso. She had a black spaghetti strap cami on over a black lace bra which barely peeked out over the top. Over this, she wore a cropped fishnet shirt that had gauntlet-style sleeves. The neck was large enough that one side had slipped down off of her right shoulder and the left sleeve was missing the little ring at the end that her middle finger would go through. This one, instead, hung from her wrist as she sat holding her elbows. I've never been a huge fan of the "goth" look, but she wore it as if it were made for her. The young woman dug in her large black denim purse for a mirror so she could touch up her running makeup. Finally finding a small, heart-shaped compact, she began to primp herself in it. I was watching a drip from one of the strings of her hair make its way down over her chest, following the curve of her cleavage when my sight-line was broken by Estelle setting the coffee cup down between us. I looked back up at her face and found her looking at me over the top of the compact with a knowing smile. "Aw, cripes," I thought. "I'm busted." If that were the case, however, she either didn't say anything or didn't mind in the first place. She leaned forward, picked up the coffee cup by the little ring-hole handle and gingerly took a sip. Finding it not so hot as to burn her mouth, she took a mouthful, closed her eyes and leaned her head back, allowing the hot liquid to run down the back of her throat. I watched, enraptured, as her neck moved with the swallow, thinking how gorgeous that neck was. Every movement was exquisite, every muscle sublime in its tone and definition. I honestly had visions of kissing that neck, of licking it slowly from her collarbone to her jawline until a moan would come out of it. As the woman brought her chin back down, her tongue snaked out, slowly licking her upper lip and then her lower. As it returned to its starting point, her tongue pulled her bottom lip inward where she delicately bit the edge of it. When her eyes opened, it was the perfect picture of wanton lust. She honestly looked as if she had just had an orgasm. Jokingly, I asked, "So, was it good for you?" then immediately regretted it, chastising myself for making such a rude remark. I will admit, however, it had been over two years since I'd gotten laid. Guess I was thinking with my other head. She just looked back at me, smiling, and replied, "Yeah, I like warm things inside me." I was a little stunned by the double entendre. I'd expected her to get angry at me and tell me off for being a dirty old man. I must have been nearly twice her age. I certainly didn't want to say what was going through my head at that moment. I'm sure it would have pushed my luck right over the edge. But then again, maybe not. Still, I figured it was better to take the safer route and remain gentlemanly. She took another gulp of coffee, set her cup down and leaned forward saying to me in a near whisper, "Look, don't think me too forward here, but I'm farther away from home than I'd like to be, I have only the clothes I'm wearing with me and despite the nice, warm coffee, I'm freezing. Is there someplace nearby where I can get out of these wet things and dry off a bit?" "Well, um, my apartment is just around the block," I stuttered. "It's not real tidy at the moment but you're welcome to it. There may be some things of my wife's that would fit you, too." "Oh, are you married?" "I was," I replied, trying to keep the pain I felt inside from showing on my face. "She's--, gone now." "I see." I folded the newspaper and grabbed my coat and umbrella from the seat next to me. "Let's get you warmed up before you catch your death, shall we?" I said, dropping a ten spot on the table to cover my tab. The young woman picked up her bag and scooted out of the booth and as we headed for the exit I was able to get a look at what she was wearing below her rib cage. The black skirt she wore clung to her like Saran Wrap and I was pretty sure that wouldn't have changed had it been dry. It hung fairly low on her hips, giving me just the slightest peek at the top of the curve of her rear end. The hem stopped at mid-thigh, not quite covering the tops of the multi-colored striped stockings she had on. They had individual slots for each of her toes and for some reason I found this very endearing. She walked on a pair of black platform heels that looked to be about four inches tall. I gauged this would have put her at about five foot six. "Right about kissing height," I mused. She pushed the door open and we headed out under the awning of the cafe. A shiver washed over her when the wind hit us. As I placed my coat around her shoulders to help keep off the chill, I noticed that she had a tattoo along her shoulder blades that showed just over the top of her cami. I got just a glimpse of what looked like feathers or something similar before they were covered by the material of the trench. She smiled her thanks as I popped open my umbrella which was sorely inadequate for two people and we headed out, huddled together, into the deluge. We walked in silence, plodding through the puddles that collected in the low spots along the sidewalk. She had placed her hand in the crook of my elbow and I led her the two blocks to my apartment building dodging to the side once to avoid being splashed by a passing taxi. My curses were lost to the rain as the cab sped away, completely oblivious to the near mishap. Arriving at the entrance to the building, I let us in the security door with my key. I then led her to the stairwell. "I hope you're not too tired to climb a couple of flights of stairs," I said, cranking my thumb toward the taped up elevator across the lobby. "The lift's been out for six months and the super doesn't seem too keen on fixing it any time soon." "I think I can manage," she replied without a hint of disappointment. We ascended the stairs and I directed her through the door emblazoned with a peeling number four on it. Halfway down the hall, I stopped in front of number 407, inserted my key into the dead bolt and turned it. Hearing the bolt snap back into the door, I turned the knob and pushed it open for the young woman to enter. "Sorry 'bout the mess," I said sheepishly. "I don't usually have company. If I'd known, I would have at least picked up a bit." The young woman surveyed the small studio for a moment, taking in the small apartment with only a laundry-strewn half-wall separating the tiny sitting area from the even tinier bedroom area. The kitchen, to her right, had three days worth of dirty dishes piled in the sink. She turned around and smiled at me, "It's perfect. I couldn't ask for more. After all, I'm the intruder here. To you, it's home." "Yeah, but I still feel bad for being a slob. You deserve better." She looked at me, speaking with her eyes as much as her words, "James, you have nothing to prove to me." I started, confused. "How did you know my name?" She glanced down at her feet for a moment, "I saw the name board in the lobby. I have a photographic memory so when I saw your apartment number, I just looked up the name in my head." "Well, then you have me at a disadvantage," I replied, not quite convinced. "I don't know your name, although I'd like to." She brought her hand up to her face and pushed her hair behind her ear. "My friends usually call me Angel. I think you qualify as a friend, wouldn't you say?" she said softly. capturing me once again with her gaze. She looked around the apartment quizzically. "Where can I get out of these wet things?" I thought to myself, "Right there is fine with me," but then pointed off to my left, saying, "The bathroom is through the closet. I'll start the oven to help dry your clothes." "You're going to cook my clothes?" I grinned at her, "No, silly. I string a line in the kitchen and open the door to the oven to help dry the clothes I hang on it." "Oh, I see," she said with a giggle. "You're so smart." She headed back toward the closet and the small bathroom beyond. "Do you mind if I shower, you know, to help warm me up?" "Be my guest. Mi casa es su casa." Angel closed the bathroom door behind her and left me to my thoughts, which were, quite frankly, riddled with sexual connotation. I was trying hard not to think about the way her shoulders curved down across her collarbones and across the top of her breasts. Those beautiful perky B-cup tits that I imagined were topped with the most luscious cherry nipples. "James," she called from the bathroom door which she'd cracked open enough to hold out her wet wardrobe, "here's my stuff. You hang those up, I'll get in the shower and then I want you to come talk to me, okay?" "Sure." I went over to the door and collected her wet clothes, I then took them to the kitchen and draped them over the fraying cotton rope above the stove. I opened the oven door a crack to allow the heat to rise through the water-logged material and realized that there were no panties among the garments. So did she hang on to those because they didn't get wet or were there none to begin with? Hearing the shower start, I was brought out of my contemplation and went back to the closet to search for the box of my wife's things. Quickly locating it, I knocked on the bathroom door. "You can come in, James," I heard from the other side. Opening the door while balancing the box on my knee, I stepped into the mist of the bathroom and placed the box on the floor in front of the sink. I then turned around and closed the door again to keep the warmth in the room. With the toilet being the only chair in the room, I closed the seat and sat down looking toward the shower. The tub was one of those old style free-standing types with the claw foot legs. The frosted vinyl curtain completely wrapped around the inside of the tub, hanging from a cantilevered D-ring that was mounted to the wall. It was through the translucency of the curtain that I could see Angel's silhouette. She was standing under the water with her head back, allowing the water to wash over her. Periodically, she would run her hands through her hair which had the effect of lifting her breasts slightly. I cleared my throat. "What did you want to talk about?" Angel stopped and turned toward me behind the curtain. She paused, as if steeling herself for something then she grasped the edge of the curtain and pulled it aside far enough for her to poke her head out from behind it. This brought her breasts very near the vinyl and I could plainly see her hardened nipples through it. My earlier thoughts had been correct. They were little cherries, ripe, red and just begging for the suction of a mouth to be applied. I quickly looked back to her face as a perceptive smile crossed it. "Dammit, busted again," I thought. "That's twice in one evening." As quickly as the smile appeared, it faded away again as her face fell into a more melancholy semblance as she asked, "James, why are you sad? I can see it on you, and in you. There is a great weight on your soul and I'm just wondering what it could be." Reeling from the unexpected change in tone, I stammered, wondering where to even start with this line of questioning. "Uhhh, I'm doing OK. Sure, I may be a little lonely sometimes-- Yeah, I guess I can be a little sad sometimes." I took a deep breath and slowly blew it out, gathering my thoughts. "I guess it really comes down to this. I miss my wife, I miss her smile, her golden hair, her laugh and the feel of her lips on mine. I miss making love to her on rainy Saturday afternoons. I miss dreaming of how our future would be together." Angel let the curtain fall closed again and stepped back under the water. "What happened? Why is she not with you?" I paused and swallowed hard, steeling myself for the story. "Two years ago, Andrea and I were driving down Highway 24 on our way to a nice weekend in the country. I was distracted by something that she was pointing out to me on the side of the road and missed seeing the semi that crossed the center line until it was too late. It hit us head on." I shivered at the memory of that scene and pushed out of my mind as quickly as it had entered. "I awoke from a coma sixteen days later with barely a scratch on me," I stated plainly, like some college professor might speak of some obscure event he'd read about in some book. "Andrea was gone. There wasn't even a body I could bury. I couldn't afford a proper memorial either. She'd had the money in the family and we hadn't made wills yet. So now the stuff's been in probate going on two years, I'm trying to scrape a living selling articles to the local rags and living in this shit hole." I tried, in vain, to keep the tears from welling in my eyes but I was powerless to stop them. "The funny thing is," I continued, "we used to talk about what would happen when one of us did die. We'd joked that we'd go at the same time, hanging on for each other, that way we could enter eternity together. I always said that if I went first that I would wait just on the other side for her. Yet, here I am, and she's not. I don't know if she's waiting for me or if it's even possible to wait. "Although... Every once in a while have a dream. It's always the same. I'm looking down at the ground from high up and I'm moving toward it, not recklessly, just a nice smooth motion. I come down closer and I start to make out stones at regular intervals in a field, a graveyard. Then I notice a person standing. As I get closer, I can see that it's Andrea standing on her grave. She's saying something but I can't hear her. She's just so beautiful I want to reach out and touch her. I reach out, trying to caress her hair. Then I wake up." I dropped my head in my hands, overcome, "I just want to touch her again. God, I just want to feel her in my arms, to love her. I'm so alone now, it's just me and this fucking so-called life." I sat there for a moment, the tears streaming down my face when I suddenly realized that it was quiet in the room. Angel had turned off the water while I was talking and I hadn't even noticed until then. "I'm sorry, James," she uttered in a barely audible whisper from the other side of the curtain. I could see by her silhouette that she was holding her elbows in front of her again just like she had in the diner. "Could you hand me the towel, please?" I wasn't sure if the shaking in her voice was due to the chill or if it was emotion. "Yeah, sorry, I should have laid that out for you." I got up, wiping my face dry with my sleeve, and retrieved the towel from the rack on the wall and held it out to her. Angel's supple arm snaked out from behind the shower curtain, grasped the towel and just held it between us for a moment before she pulled it out of my hand back into the shower with her. "Right," I said, feeling a little awkward. "I'll just go check on the clothes in the kitchen then." I turned and left the room and headed into the kitchen to find the clothes still sopping wet. This was going to take all night at this rate. Intermediary Angel I opened the fridge and pulled out a couple of beers, twisted the caps off and took them to the sitting area. I sat on the sofa, placing one of the bottles on the small end table and taking a long draught from the other one. What the hell was I thinking, bringing this girl here? She's too young to be hearing my problems. She should have been out going to clubs, partying and finding a man to spend the rest of her life with. I had nothing to offer her but my misery. That stuff I had, and to spare. I sat for a few minutes, staring out the window, watching the rain come down in sheets. I could hear a siren speed by on the street below, probably some domestic squabble that went to far. There was always some sort of argument going on in this neighborhood. I heard Angel walk out of the bathroom and into the sitting area. I didn't actually see her until she came around the end of the sofa and stopped a few feet from me. She stood with her weight on one leg, her other foot just in front of her with her right hand on her hip while the fingers of her left were just touching the inside of her left thigh. She had put on one of my shirts, a white one with blue pinstripes. It was held together by the button just below her breasts which allowed the material to flop open both above and below it, showing enough skin to throw my thoughts into a downward spiral toward the gutter. I could see through the opening of the shirt tails that she had, indeed, kept her panties, a black, lacy G-string that appeared to have barely three inches of material in the front. If the goal of this young woman was to get my blood pumping and my mind reeling, she certainly knew how to do her job well. "Wasn't there anything in the box that would fit?" I asked. "Not that I mind you wearing my shirt." "I'm sorry, I just couldn't wear any of it. It wouldn't be right. Those things are sacred to you and I wouldn't feel comfortable wearing them. This shirt is nice, well worn and soft; and it smells like you," she said, smiling. "You are very sexy in it." "Thanks, I thought you might like it." She indicated the still full bottle on the end table, "Is that for me?" "Yes, if you want it." "I do, thank you." Angel picked up the beer, emptied nearly half of it and plopped down on the sofa facing me with her left foot crooked under her and her right still on the floor. This opened up the bottom of the shirt and I could see that she had a navel piercing as well, a stud with what appeared to be a rhinestone in it. The stone glittered in the light of the small table lamp, drawing my eyes to her flat lower abdomen. There wasn't a mark on her anywhere, not a scar, a blemish or a freckle. She was perfect. "James," she began, reaching out and taking my hand in hers. "I didn't mean to dredge up sorrows earlier. I can tell that you love her very much and that the love you have is very special. You do not belong in this place, James. It causes the soul to wither and fade away, it eats the life within you, slowly driving you mad." "I don't understand. You said that in the diner before. What do you mean I don't belong here? Where the hell else should I be? Look around, Angel. This is all I have left, nowhere else to go, nobody else to see. Where did you come from? Why are you do--" Angel placed her fingers on my lips, shushing me. She closed her eyes for a moment, frowning, as if she were listening for something. Then she took a long slow breath in through her nose and then slowly blew it out through her puckered lips. "Tonight I will be with you, James. I want you to make love to me, to take strength in me. Tonight you won't have to be alone." "Angel, I--," I didn't know what to say. "I couldn't. I mean, how old are you? You must be half my age." "I'm old enough," she said. "I'm older than you think I am, but age matters not. Tonight, we are two souls in a storm. You need me," she looked at our hands for a moment before looking up, again, into my eyes, "and I want you." Angel leaned forward, sensing my failing resolve and lightly brushed her lips over mine. They felt like velvet and smelled of sweet spring rain, not the cold harsh rain of the October night outside, but warm, sensual and inviting. Her tongue slipped out and she licked just inside my upper lip then ran it along the front of my teeth before plunging in into my mouth. Our tongues danced together for several moments before she broke away and stood up in front of me. Angel reached up to the single clasped button and undid it while pushing the shirt up slightly and allowing it to slip off her shoulders. She posed a moment, still holding the front of the shirt together with the just the tops of her breasts exposed, her hair half covering her face while she looked at me wantonly, gently biting her bottom lip. She slowly turned away from me, dropping her arms and the shirt fell in a heap at her feet. I could now plainly see the tattoo on her back. It was a pair of wings. I marveled at the intricacy and fine detail of the work. They almost looked real, each feather had a softness to it that I'd never seen in skin art. They began at just over her shoulder blades and ran along her spine to the tops of her ass cheeks where the black string of her panties continued the plunge over the supple curves and into her crack. Angel looked back at me over her right shoulder and reached out to take my hand. "Take me to bed, James and let's reawaken that fire in your soul," she said, lust filling her voice. I took her hand and followed her swaying hips around the wall to the bedroom where she turned around, sat on the edge of the bed and began working to unfasten the front of my trousers. My manhood was already beginning to show signs of life as she rubbed it through the material. "Take your shirt off, honey. I want to see you, all of you." Her voice was mesmerizing, I did as she told me without even a feigned protest. There was no denying it, I wanted her, I needed her. Angel pulled down my pants and underwear in one movement as my cock sprang up and bobbed up and down a bit, finally coming to rest pointed straight at her face. She reached out with her right hand and gingerly wrapped her fingers around the shaft. I moaned in pleasure as it jumped at her touch, it had been so long since I'd felt anything like this. I could feel something welling up inside me, an animal lust that almost scared me with its intensity. I reached out, running my fingers through her hair and around to the back of her head, coaxing her forward. She complied willingly, licking around the head, then up and down the shaft before parting her lips and taking me inside her. The sensations were incredible as she whipped the tip of her tongue side to side along the underside while sucking hard enough to draw me forward. "Awwww, jeez, it's not going to take long at this rate," I said through my teeth, trying to hang on. Angel seemed to take this as a desirable thing as she began moving her head faster and reached up with her other hand to cup my balls, lightly massaging them with her fingers. Suddenly, I tensed as the first spurt of my cum shot down the back of her throat. She shoved me all the way in and I could feel the head of my cock propelled well beyond her tonsils as she swallowed with each ejaculation. I pulled out and steadied my self on her shoulders as she looked up at me, "How do you feel?" "Fuck!" I said between panting breaths, "Why'd you do it so fast?" She smiled coyly, "I assume you haven't had any for two years, yes? This way we get the initial issue out of the way and now we can enjoy ourselves. Don't worry, I'm sure that won't be the last time that happens tonight." She laid back on the bed, her arms over her head, "Now come here you lovely man and show me what you can do." Not waiting to be asked twice, I climbed onto the bed and lay next to her, admiring the exquisite shape of her body. Her scent was intoxicating. Her skin had a light, sweet smell, like jasmine or lilac but not as potent. It was just enough to lift your spirits and send them reeling. I began lightly caressing the inside of her upper arm with my left hand as it lay extended over her head, tracing a line from her elbow to her armpit and back again. I leaned forward and kissed her softly, then began tracing my tongue along her jawline to her neck. I nibbled down her neck, feeling her pulse quicken as I reached her collarbone, a quiet moan escaping her lips. Still caressing with my left hand, I didn't stop at her armpit this time but continued on, encircling her right breast. I began softly massaging it while I continued to lick and kiss down her chest to her left nipple, which I flicked with the tip of my tongue and then sucked into my mouth, squeezing it between my lips. "Oh, that's good," she sighed. "You keep that up like that and I'm going to cum without you ever touching my nethers." I released her nipple and gently blew on it. The chill this caused turned it rock hard and I smiled, saying, "Well, we can't have that, now, can we? I mean the 'without you ever touching my nethers' part." I began kissing down the center line of her abdomen, pausing to flick her navel stud with my tongue, then moved over to her left hip. I then followed the string of her panties, leaving a long wet line from one hip to the other. Angel shuddered as I passed over the sensitive valleys where her legs joined her pelvis. Not wanting to stop at her side, I gently rolled her over onto her stomach and continued following the string around to the top of her ass crack. I stopped and sat up, taking a good look at the perfectly shaped rear on the bed before me. "Angel, you have the most glorious butt," I said, delicately running my palms and fingers over the supple globes. I leaned forward once again and breathed hot air along the crack of her bottom, licking along the edge, teasing her. Angel's breathing was now heavier, her breaths hiccuped slightly as I tickled the areas of her cheeks right next to her crotch where her thigh met her butt. I noticed the lace of her G-string was glistening with wetness and I could smell her musky aroma as I leaned in and ran my tongue from the base of her right ass cheek, across her perineum to the base of her left one and back again. She pushed her pelvis off the bed, trying to grind back onto my mouth. "Baby, you've got me so hot," she gasped. "Quit messing around and lick me!" I reached up and grasped her panties where the three strings met at the top of her crack and pulled them down over her rear. The translucent material whispered its stickiness as it pulled away from her labia. Angel flipped over onto her back and extracted her legs from the lacy bottoms, spreading her knees apart and giving me my first real look at her most sacred place. It spread before me like the petals of a rose glistening with the morning dew, completely bare of any hair. She reached down between her thighs and ran her fingers over her slit, spreading her nectar over the inner and outer lips before bringing them to her own lips and licking them clean. She looked at me then, the lust burning in her eyes, mirroring the fire that I felt stoking between my own thighs. "Taste me, honey." I knelt between her legs and began slowly lapping at her sex, tasting her sweetness and kissing her smooth lips. Slowly I moved up to her clit and rotated my tongue around the button, pushing it out from its hood and causing Angel to inhale sharply. She grabbed the back of my head and pulled me into her. In response, I flattened my tongue and quickly rubbed it back and forth over her nub while snaking the tip forward into her hole. "Ooooohhhhhhhhh!" she panted. "That's heavenly. That's so good." Her head rolled from side to side and she squealed whenever I sucked her clit into my mouth, flicking my tongue back and forth quickly over the tip. I continued my ministrations with her love juices flowing down my chin and into the crack of her ass, causing a dark spot to spread on the sheets beneath her. Her hips were bucking now as she ground herself against my face. Angel suddenly pushed me away and pulled me up to suck on my lips and tongue. She reached down between us and grasped my cock, feeling that it was again erect. Guiding me to her entrance, she whispered, "I want you in me, James. I need to feel you inside." She rubbed the head against her swollen lips, spreading her lubrication over me and I pushed forward, entering her. Angel wrapped her legs around me as she ran her fingernails across my shoulders. "MMMmmmmmmm. Oh, yeah, James. You feel so good inside me." I began moving in and out of her. As I pulled out I would pause with just the head of my cock inside her before plunging in once again. Each time I moved forward, Angel would suck her breath in while squeezing my middle with her thighs. I could feel her inner walls clenching my shaft, drawing me into her with each thrust. I began moving faster, feeling the swelling in my balls, knowing my climax wouldn't be far off. She seemed to sense it too, because she pulled away and the sat up, pushing me down onto my back before getting on top of me and kissing me while rubbing her pussy up and down my shaft. God, she was so soft, so smooth, so erotically intoxicating. Angel moved forward onto my belly and the shifted back, impaling herself on me. She began rocking her hips as her head lolled from side to side, her hair hanging in front of her face as she nibbled her bottom lip. I loved the way she did that. I reached up and squeezed her tits, rolling the nipples between my fingers as she moved faster on me, her pussy squeezing me like a vice, bringing me to the edge. "Oh God, James. I'm going to cum. Feed on me, baby! Let me fill you! Come with meeeeeeee!" She screamed and I couldn't hold back any longer. My cock swelled within her, then exploded as my cum raced out and great spurts, filling her. My limbs went numb and my vision blurred as I saw a vision of beauty that made me weep. A light filled the room as I looked up at Angel. She seemed to glow before me, so much so that I couldn't make out anything around us. Amorphous shapes seemed to spring from her shoulders, spreading out behind her and forming into two large bright white feathery wings. The light was blinding, filled with the warmth of love. It overwhelmed my senses and I soon passed out. ------------ I'm high above the ground, staring down. I begin moving toward it, quickly but not recklessly so. Below me, rows of stones become apparent and as I move toward them I realize they are headstones. I notice a person standing near one of the headstones and I move toward the figure. I recognize the figure now. It is Andrea, my wife. She seems to be crying. Why should she cry? She's in a better place now. Suddenly, I feel a presence. "She loves you very much, James." "Angel?" "Yes, it's me." "What's going on? What is this place?" I could feel Angel touching my mind. She seemed to be all around me and within me at the same time. "This is the dream you've been having. It is a moment in time that you've been carrying with you." Her voice was music weaving through my soul. "There are parts that you've missed, however. This time you will be able to experience the moment completely." As I move closer to Andrea, I could hear that she was saying something. She looks so beautiful, her golden hair is shining in the sun. I begin to understand her words now. "...he's waiting. So, please send an angel to keep him safe. I want him to know I love him, that I will see him again when the time comes..." I'm confused. "What is she talking about?" "Look beyond her, James, at the stone." I move past Andrea, fixing my gaze on the carved marble headstone and the words inscribed there. James Stricker A Loving, Devoted, Wonderful Man 1974-2006 "No," I whisper, my heart clenching in my chest. "This isn't right." "Right or wrong, James, it is the truth. Andrea survived that crash, you did not. Instead of going to the light, you stayed in the Intermediary to wait for her." Angel appears before me, coalescing out of the very air, hovering just above the headstone. "Souls cannot survive the Intermediary for long. Those who try, go mad and usually end up trying to go back to their old lives and the places they knew rather than move on. You've been stronger than most, James. You've kept your will and the strength of your love for Andrea. But no soul can hold out for more than a few years and you've begun to spread, James, becoming thin, forgetting things." Tears are running down my face, now. I know it is the truth. "Why are you telling me this?" "To help you remember and to keep you sane and focused. You must remember the truth if you are to survive this place, otherwise you will end up like those poor souls in the diner, or worse." Angel floats down from the headstone, stopping inches from my face and gazes into my eyes. "As you heard, Andrea asked me to be here. She loves you, James, and she wants you to know that you are not alone here. I will be your lifeline, if you will, to the light. We are now joined and through me you will have the love to withstand this dark place." She leans forward slightly and kisses me tenderly. "It was an act of love for you to choose to remain in this place and wait. It will take acts of love to sustain you through that wait. I will remain, with you and as part of you, until the time comes when Andrea's soul makes the journey and you may cross into the light together." I can feel the warmth of her love flowing into me, filling me with strength and resolve, and even joy. With an overwhelming feeling of peace, I turn and look at Andrea. "I'll be waiting," I say to her, then I reach out to touch her hair... ----------- I woke up to find Angel gone. On the bed beside me was a note written in flowing script: "You do not belong here, James. Never forget that. You are not alone as I am with you and one day, Andrea will come for you. If you need me, you only have to call. Love always, Your Angel" I still had so many questions, so many new, old, terrible, wonderful thoughts running through my head. My head. I let my thoughts linger on Angel's image. Almost as a response, I could feel her on the edge of my psyche, gently caressing my mind and smiling that beautiful, sexy smile. I took strength in her presence as I tucked the note into the side pocket of my wallet. Smiling to myself, I stood up and walked over to the chair where my old typewriter sat on a stool in front of it. I sat down, rolled a humidity-wrinkled sheet into the platen and started to type. I wouldn't be selling this one. Nope, this one's for Andrea.