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Bedtime Stories - Stories of Charlie & His Angels

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(no subject) [Mar. 3rd, 2009|11:21 am]
Bedtime Stories - Stories of Charlie & His Angels

harrysmom
How Marc manages to do this while working and IMing is beyond me-

I try to feign interest in the landing but after nine hours in the air I don't particularly care
The terminal building is lit, tiny people stand revealed as the building's light leaks into the twilight.
I'll let her wait.
Patience is a virtual she needs to cultivate
Frustration is a condition easily used.
I collect my chattels and descend onto the tarmac to follow the yellow dashed lines into the terminal.
Most figures have disappeared from the observation deck. One remains peering into the shadows, her legs apart, almost a man-like stance, an indication of frustration, for a moment I catch a glimpse of bosom in silhouette.
Stepping out of the shadows of the aircraft I flip open my phone and hit the speed dial.
"Yes?" Comes a terse exasperated answer, I've changed the number on purpose.
"What is it!" she snaps.
"Hello Angel."

So not to be outdone, I replied-
There was no private flight this time. No hand holding, no nerve reducing sex and worst of all, no Jack.
I did this one sober to prove to him and to myself I could do it.
But I didn't like it, not one bit so that explains my frustration as the plane taxis to a stop, the motors still roaring.
It seems like forever as the ground crew pushes the stairway into place and then the door swings open.
I watch intently as the passengers come down; business men, women, children. Impatiently, I scan each face. It's getting hard in the twilight. No, no, maybe...no. My frustration grows with each passing second. Maybe he missed the flight...no, he wouldn't do that. He'd have called.
Then I feel it. The gentle vibration.
Taking my cell phone from my bag, it reads restricted.
"Yes?" There's silence on the other end.
"What is it?" I snap, a bit impatiently.
"Hello Angel."
I look down and see him standing on the tarmac. Looking right at me.
"Hello Charlie," I whisper.
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It's been a while.... [Mar. 3rd, 2009|05:01 pm]
Bedtime Stories - Stories of Charlie & His Angels

alloy_
It's been a while....

Sometimes life gets in the way, and responsibilitiesmount, and some things that get put on the back burner shouldn't.

Like at the airport.

I'd almost left that too long....my word it had been intense...but now I have other obligations.

It's a small matter to bribe a store clerk, a small matter to fake an sms requesting paint for home, a small matter to anticipate that she'll come here on her way home.

The dungareesare a little tight, but not to worry I foresee plenty of exercise in my immediate future.

Then she's here, I hear her voice, the genteel cussing that always gives me a hard on. Muttering about money, and repairs and medical bills, and step behind her run one hand over her arse while with the other spinning her around.....

"Hello angel".
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(no subject) [Sep. 7th, 2007|09:50 am]
Bedtime Stories - Stories of Charlie & His Angels

harrysmom
[mood |creative]

Angela told me this morning that she had some Charlie smut rolling around in her head and that reminded me that I never posted this here. So, this is only the beginning and hopefully, I/we can finish this soon.

BTW, Marc you still owe me A VOICE POST. My birthday was 9 MONTHS AGO!!!!!

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

The wind is blowing up and down the coastline as we walk along the shore. It’s a grey afternoon, I can hear the thunder rumbling in the distance and it looks as though the rain may start at any minute. I always said I could smell a storm and there is definitely going to be some rain. Issue is I think there may be more than one kind of storm occurring on the beach this evening. She and I have planned this for a while but we haven’t let on to Charlie. It’s our turn to surprise him. After all, a birthday only comes once a year.

He has no idea what is in store. I actually hope it rains.

I stop to look at a dune in the distance, it’s just as she described. I shiver, partially from the wind and partially from the anticipation.

I turn to smile at him. The wind is blowing his hair, making the auburn highlights stand out in between the darker pieces. I think for a minute how lucky I am, how lucky we are to have found him. How lucky he is to have found us.

“Cold, Angel?”

His accented voice breaks me from my musing. I shiver again but this time from his voice. He sees my reaction and winks at me, because he knows how much I just love to sit and listen to him talk or read aloud. She thinks I’m crazy but it’s to each her own I guess. Sighing, I answer his question.

“Yes, a bit actually. I’m thinking it might rain.”

Ever the gentleman, he takes off his pullover. I watch intently, marveling at the way he moves, as if every action is planned. Then he pulls me towards him. Smiling down at me, he puts the sweater over my head and gently pulls it down over my body, his hands smoothing down the front as I put my arms through the sleeves and then pull my hair out from the collar. I smile at him and he leans down, planting a soft kiss on my cheek. The goatee he has grown since I’ve seen him last tickles my face and I giggle.
“What?”

“The facial hair, it tickles.”

“If you want me to, I could shave it off.”

I step back and look at him critically. I happen to think he looks much better with it. He has too much of a baby face otherwise and for our needs, the less he looks like a baby, the better we feel. Besides, the feel of the hair on my skin is just another sensation to enjoy and being with him is all about the sensations he makes us feel both physically and mentally.

Winking at him, I give him my verdict. “Don’t shave it off…ever.”

“What happens when I start to look like Methuselah? Can I shave it then?”

Snorting, I punch him in the arm. “Why are you so literal? Such a man.”

He looks at me with a wounded expression as he grabs at his arm “You punched me.”

My eyes roll, I shake my head and mutter, “baby,” as I start to rub the spot where I hit him. He grunts.

“Does this make it better?”

“Yes,” he answers in a petulant tone. I almost giggle as I continue to work on his arm but I know better. He moves a bit closer and I sense that he wants me to move a bit. Working my hand up his arm, I stand on tiptoe to massage the point where his neck meets his shoulder. I almost fall back as I try to reach a spot behind his head. He sees my struggle to maintain my balance so he bends down to kneel in the sand, allowing me better access to him. I work my hands over his upper body, neck and head and soon I hear soft sighing sounds. He should only know this is the last time he will be relaxed for a while. That thought breaks me from what I was doing and I move back. Charlie’s arms go around me, pulling my body to his so that his face is quite literally in my chest. He mumbles something I can’t make out and then I feel his lips on my shirt. As much as I would like this to continue, we have bigger plans in store.

Steeling myself from his assault and the effect he has on my body, I pull away.

“Angel?”

“Come on Charlie. Places to go, things to do, people to see.”

“What are you talking about?”

“No questions, I told you that. It’s your birthday, just trust me. Bet you can’t catch me,” I take off running down the beach towards the dune, towards Charlie’s birthday present.
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Happy Birthday, belatedly, Amy [Mar. 5th, 2007|11:57 am]
Bedtime Stories - Stories of Charlie & His Angels

natertatersmom
This is for the Angel With Cleavage. Long may she reign in her beauty.


Happy Birthday AWC Collapse )
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(no subject) [Nov. 12th, 2006|01:01 pm]
Bedtime Stories - Stories of Charlie & His Angels

harrysmom
Cleaning up your e-mails can be fun. Here are 2 points of view on the same situation. Anything not to have to clean out my night table drawers...

Dinner can be frustratingCollapse )


And POV #2. Damn I am such a New YorkerCollapse )
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A different perspective... [Oct. 19th, 2006|07:41 pm]
Bedtime Stories - Stories of Charlie & His Angels

natertatersmom
Part One Collapse )
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Storm Warnings [Oct. 16th, 2006|08:13 am]
Bedtime Stories - Stories of Charlie & His Angels

alloy_
[mood |accomplished]
[music |Riders On The Storm - Doors]

Storm Warnings.
by alloy

It was a dark and stormy night.

He waited.

Listening to the sharp staccato rattle against the roof, the roar of the river as it began to swell.

She liked the release that the storm brought, and the cleansing.

Wanting to affirm life, to couple, as beasts mating in the forest, no words spoken, grunts and thrusts, and screams.

Bodies slick with more than water, glistening forms illuminated by lightning.

Her hands and knees and feet rooted in the mud.

Their bodies gasping to heaven.

Gasping.

She would come.

Before the storm lost its potency.

She would come.

“Hello Angel.”
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a drabble in the rain [Oct. 14th, 2006|11:37 pm]
Bedtime Stories - Stories of Charlie & His Angels

harrysmom
It was a dark and stormy night.

It was slow going.

Very slow.

Why did I get in my car in the middle of the night?

I know he’ll be waiting.
He wants me.

In the rain, on my knees, aching while I beg for his touch.

Rain comes down in sheets, the headlights afford little illumination. Lightning brightens the sky and the thunder rumbles through my body.
Aching.

In the steamy car, the sweat pools between my breasts, trailing down to anticipation.
It’s killing me.

Pulling into the drive, he is standing there.

Lightning flashes, I see his auburn hair.

He is wet, waiting.
For me.

“Hello Angel.”
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Flying [Oct. 14th, 2006|06:44 pm]
Bedtime Stories - Stories of Charlie & His Angels

harrysmom
The Bar's closed, it's six fucking forty five in the morning and I can't get a drink anywhere in this damn airport. So instead I sit in front of my gate, stewing in my nervousness.

“Excuse me.”

There's a light tap on my shoulder. He's tall with dirty brown hair that tops off a straight rigid back. But there's something else, something familiar about him. Something that reminds me of Charlie, maybe it’s the ears, I don’t know. Charlie wears his auburn hair long and shaggy so I never really saw his ears except when we were in the shower. But then again, I wasn't really paying attention. I think I had other things on my mind.

This man's crew cut lets his ears stand out. A genetic twist? I would think a family resemblance that is more than that. While I am pondering this, he speaks.

“Charles sent me.”

Oh my god.

His voice. It's a different tone, different but equal

I think he wants me to stand because I feel a gentle push on my elbow. I don't think I can do that right now, my legs have turned to jelly.

“Charles is waiting.”

“I call him Charlie,” I mutter.

He laughs, a rich full laugh, not unlike Charlie’s.

“So do I mostly,” he says. "Lots of other things too.”

“What about my flight?” Really, I don't give a damn about my flight anymore.

“You tickets have been redeemed. You're on a private flight.”

A private flight?

“My name's Richard. Charlie thought you might like some assistance in joining a little club.” He smiles.

“What...I…”

“It might help your fear of flying.”

I blink at Richard.

“That man knows EVERYTHING.”

"He makes it his business, yes."

Taking my carry-on from me, he leads me down corridors and through doors to a part of the airport I've never seen. The walls are cherry wood and the carpet soft and red.

Richard drops my elbow and stops.

"Would you like to freshen up before your flight?" He gestures towards a door in the wall.

"Thank you."

The room is softly lit and moving towards the mirror, I try to fix my hair and make myself presentable. I believe in comfort when flying and I know what I must look like. A glance in the mirror confirms my suspicions. Straightening my T-shirt and brushing off my capris make me look a bit neater but the lack of makeup and the haphazard ponytail I put my hair in this morning do nothing for my appearance. Rummaging for a brush in my bag, I decide to take down my hair. Reaching up to take out the elastic, I frown at myself in the mirror. Why did I have to pack my makeup?

"Leave it up, Angel."

My hands stop in the act as his reflection appears in the mirror.

"But, I look a mess."

He smiles at me in the mirror.

"I don't think so."

Taking my hand from my hair, he turns me around and leans down to kiss my neck.

"Gives me easier access, Angel. Ready?"

I nod dumbly and allow him to lead me back outside. The similarities between Richard and he are evident as they stand next to each other. Just the coloring is different. The voice is almost the same. Listening to the two of them speak relaxes me and before I realize it, we walk through another door and out onto the tarmac.

The plane sits parked just ahead of us. My heart starts beating quickly and my feet stop.

“I need a drink.”

They both laugh and the sound makes me shiver. Not from annoyance but from excitement. I must be crazy.

Grinning down at me, Charlie takes me by the hand and leads me on board. Richard follows.

A uniformed flight attendant greets us.

“Please take your time getting settled and we’ll be departing as soon as you’re ready.”

“Can I have a drink, please?”

“Angel, you’re not going to need a drink, trust me.”

Trust him? That’s never been an issue but then again, he’s not worrying about crashing into the ground and being eaten by bears. Glancing over at him I see that look in his eyes. The look that means he’s in charge and I don’t have to worry about anything. I hope it’s true.

“Sit.”

Plopping down in the closest seat, I put my carry-on bag in front of me, buckle my seat belt and try to control my breathing.

“Where’s the safety card? I need to know where the exits are.”

Again they both laugh. Charlie’s laugh is a bit deeper than Richard’s but the timbre is the same. I wonder briefly what else is the same about the two of them. I don’t get to ask as Richard moves off to the front of the plane.

“Relax Angel.”

As much as I would like too, it’s difficult. Flying is not something I like to do under any circumstances. Even with him.

“I could if I had a drink.”

He sits next to me, takes my hand in his. It’s warm. He squeezes mine and strokes my palm with a finger.

“You don’t need a drink Angel. Just concentrate on my finger.”

It’s warm. It moves from my palm to my wrist, circling around and back.

“Close your eyes.”

His finger moves up my arm, over my t-shirt and across my shoulders, tracing a warm line that makes me shiver in longing. It stops on my breast for a moment, traces around my bra and continues moving across to the other side where it does the same. A light trace around my other breast, back across my shoulder and down to my palm. My breathing is slower now. The movement of his finger is almost hypnotic. My head goes back against the seat.

His voice purrs in my ear.

“Relax, just relax.”

His finger moves back up my arm and down my chest, drawing circles as it moves lower and lower, till it reaches my thigh and it stops. The pressure increases as two then three then all of his fingers are touching my leg. The warmth from his palm is seeping through the thin cotton of my pants. Shifting around in the seat makes the warmth spread to both legs. Then I realize there are two hands.

“Open your eyes Angel.”

He’s kneeling in front of me, a look of satisfaction on his face.

We’re in the air.

“You doubted me Angel?”

“No.” My eyes give me away.

“Angel?”

“No!” I answer more forcefully; he doesn’t need to know how scared I was. I still am.

“Defiant to the end, aren’t you? I like it. Gives me a reason.”

A reason to what?

The answer comes quickly enough.

In one swift motion he reaches over and unbuckles my belt, pulling me out of my seat.

“Take off your clothes”

I look at him. “What about the flight attendant? What about Richard?”

“Don’t worry about them. If you’re a good girl, Richard will join us later. Now Angel, take OFF those pants.”

He has a hard look to him, one that means business. A look that I would normally take as offer for an argument waiting to happen. Not with him though. Not with Charlie. He speaks. I listen.

I pull the drawstring on my capris, let them fall to the ground and step out of them.

“Sneakers.”

I toe one shoe off and then the other.

“Shirt.”

I hesitate. I’m not wearing the best bra or underwear.

“Now Angel. I’m getting impatient.”

I pull my shirt up and over my head and my defiance shows through as I stare him right in the eye.

He smirks as he reaches over to tweak a nipple. I suck in my breath.

“Bra… Now!”

It falls to floor as I pull it off, still staring him in the eye.

“Take it all off Angel. Take off that school girl underwear so I can see all of you.”

Slowly, very slowly I start to pull them down, winking as I wriggle the elastic around.

“Don’t play with me Angel.”

I’ve gone too far.

He reaches down, yanks them off and pulls me roughly towards him. His hands travel down my back to my ass and he squeezes...hard. Then hits my bottom. Just once.

I jump back. She may like it, I don’t.

“Don’t do that.”

He advances towards me, a gleam in his eye that I have never seen before. Almost as if he wanted this to happen. He pushes me back on the seat, my body flinching at the feel of the cool leather on my bottom. Leaning down, his arms braced on either side of me he speaks in a low controlled tone. It makes me shiver.

“Angel, I will do what I want, when I want. You like this.”

He whispers in my ear, lightly licking the lobe.

“I know what you want.”

He bites at my ear.

“You want sex.”

He nuzzles the side of my neck and sucks at the hollow.

“You want mind blowing, brain numbing sex.”

His hand moves it’s way up my arm and comes to rest on my breast.
“Sex, so hard and fast, you’ll feel like you’re flying all on your own.”

A whimper escapes my throat.

Twisting his fingers across my nipple once, he stands to his full height. His eyes never leave my face as he undresses. The shirt flies across the aisle, the belt makes a snap as it leaves the loops of his jeans, shoes pushed under the seat. Smirking, he steps towards me so I am eye level with the snap on his jeans.

“Take them down.”

My hands undo the snap and push down his jeans.

There’s nothing underneath.

Something comes over me. I may be an angel but right now, the dark angel is coming out to play.

Leaning forward I take him in my hand and I rub gently, up and down the hard length. He jerks for a moment. I increase the pressure. He moans softly. Smiling to myself I watch his cock get harder. It’s almost time. Rubbing and pulling gently I move him towards me. Glancing up, I see the look of pleasure that is rolling across his face.

You ain’t seen nothing yet sweetheart.

I pull on him again and take him into my mouth. He’s just as I thought he would be. Hot, hard and all man. Sucking gently I roll my tongue around and over him. My hand squeezes gently at the base and I flick my finger back and forth. Hearing a grunt from above me spurs me on to suck harder, make more pressure. Moving up I lick the tip and then work my way back down. His hands twist into my hair and he pushes me back and forth, setting a rhythm for me. I am enjoying this. The feel of him inside my mouth is making me hot and I can feel the wetness grow between my legs. Taking one hand off him, I move it between my legs and rub in time to his movement.

The moan gives me away.

Suddenly he pulls back, grabs my hand from between my legs and pulls me to my feet.

“Naughty Angel. You forget who’s in charge.”

Turning me around, he puts his hand on my back and pushes down so that I am leaning over the seat. Charlie reaches around with one hand and grabs at my breast. Pinching the nipple makes me cry out but it also makes me wetter. His other hand plays with my ponytail.

“Told you to leave it up.”

His hand moves down and comes to rest on top of my clit. His finger slides around, playing with me. The wetness increases. My legs are going numb. Twisting back I try to rub my back against his chest. I want to feel the friction of the coarseness of his chest hair against the softness of my skin.

Charlie’s fingers continue to work their magic and I am panting from the sensation.

The plane shakes momentarily and I turn my head to look out the window but a firm pull on my ponytail stops that from happening.

“Pay attention Angel. Otherwise you’ll miss something.”

He pushes one leg between mine, spreading them so that I am bent over the top of the seat. Another firm yank on my ponytail and I feel him slide into me. He pulls me close with his free hand so I am almost standing upright and bends over to bite at my neck.

I push back and twist against him. The feel of him inside of me is wonderful. Warm hands surround my waist and he moves me against him, grinding his hips against my back. The angle makes it so I feel every movement, every thrust, every sensation.

Hands start to move up and down my body. One finds its way to my breasts, the other back between my legs. Both are rubbing, tickling, stroking, making me quiver both inside and out as I think my legs are going to give out from under me from the firm, even thrusting.

Reaching back I try to steady myself against him. It doesn’t work. He grunts and pushes in harder, faster. His fingers increase the speed of the dance they are doing on my clit. The other hand moves back and forth between my breasts, rubbing, pulling, pinching.

He bites at my shoulder, my neck, my ear. I moan…loudly.

He chuckles against my skin.

“Still nervous Angel?”

I can’t find my voice other than to whimper. I shake my head ‘no’ against his chest.

“That’s my good girl.”

Suddenly, he moves backwards so he is sitting in the seat. Without missing a stroke, without stopping the rhythm, he moves me on top of him so that I straddle his legs. His hands go about my waist and he pushes me up and down so that I am riding him. It’s too much.

Leaning back I try to bite at his neck but he’s too fast, he won’t let me. One hand comes up and he pushes his finger in.

“Taste yourself on me.”

I can’t think anymore. Somewhere in the back of my mind I feel the plane and the movements but I’m too far gone to care. Plane? I’m on a plane? I’m in Charlie’s arms and that’s all that matters right now. The world could burst into flames and I wouldn’t notice.

He bites at my neck.

I suck on his finger.

He pushes up into me.

I push down on top of him.

He grunts with the force of his thrusts.

I whimper and groan with each one.

“Come for me Angel,” he whispers against my throat. “Come with me.”

If anything he pushes in harder, faster. The friction of him sliding in and out combined with his fingers moving against me and the murmuring of sexy words against my ear push me over the edge. My muscles clamp down and I rise up and slam down on him, making him yell out as he comes inside of me…

As I become aware of my surroundings again, the only sounds I hear are the steady droning of the plane’s engines and ragged breathing against my ear. My thoughts turn to kissing him but moving any part of my body is not an option right now. I am more than content to stay wrapped on top of him, his arms holding me against his chest.

“My Angel isn’t afraid anymore.” He kisses the side of my face.

I sigh and snuggle into him. My voice hasn’t found its way back to me yet.

“No,” I whisper.

“Brave Angel.”

We sit quietly for a minute or two and then his hands start to drift across my stomach. I close my eyes and relax.

Then I feel it. Another set of hands are moving across my body.

Opening my eyes I see Richard kneeling in front of me, an identical Charlie like smirk spreading across his face.

It’s going to be a long, long flight.
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Of Tuxes and Bowties [Oct. 14th, 2006|10:41 pm]
Bedtime Stories - Stories of Charlie & His Angels

harrysmom
I hate these black tie affairs. I hate having to get dressed up, to truss myself up in a strapless bra that leaves marks that would make a sadist proud, beautiful shoes that pinch my feet, having to have my hair done, put my contact lenses in, make-up applied just right. It would be so much easier if I could show up in my t-shirt, sweat pants and sneakers, my hair in a frowsy ponytail, glasses on my nose.

Then again, I love these black tie things.

This may sound strange but put a man in a tux and I am drooling like a baby. The vision of a man in a raven black suit with a crisp white shirt under it, shiny black shoes and bow tie just does it for me. Make that bow tie red and you may as well lay me out on the floor and call me done. Man in a tux with a red bow tie is my weakness and it’s a serious one.

Maybe that’s why I like to wear red. I can carry it off and like being the red dress in a room full of black. For some reason, I’ve always liked red, a cool blue-red that is rich and regal looking. Finding this dress was the bargain of the century. Off the shoulder with a tight, low bodice and an A line skirt to the floor. There are tiny cap sleeves that hang just off my shoulders. It frames my upper body and this dress actually makes me feel pretty.

I smile as I work my way through the room, saying hello to people I know, nodding at people I don’t. Accepting a glass of wine off a tray I take a sip. I’d rather have a Jack and club but unfortunately, wine goes with the territory here. Stopping for a moment to survey the room and to rest my aching feet, I lean against the wall and suddenly I see a flash of copper colored hair go by on the other end of the room. My glass of wine almost slips from my hand. It can’t be… Searching the room for another glimpse and not finding anything it’s chalked up to the over active imagination. It’s been a while since that weekend and to be honest, I am missing… something. We left on a good note but lately I’ve been feeling as if the whole thing were almost a dream, a wonderful amazing dream, but just a dream. She and I have spoken about it at length. We’ve changed, he changed the way we see things; now life is quite different for both of us. We want more, we know that we are capable of so much more...

Sighing, I move from the wall and work my way back into the crowd. Checking out the silent auction proves to be an expensive proposition as I am now the proud owner of a heart shaped necklace from Tiffany’s which can be picked up when the evening is over.
Another side effect of these charity things. It’s all for a good cause so I really don’t mind. I just wish it would be over so I can home and take off these damn shoes. In all honesty, I’ve been a little “freaked out” since that glimpse of copper hair. There is no way it could be him. How would he know I was here, how could he? Then again... Shaking my head with the ridiculousness of the thought I keep moving through the crowd. There are too many people and the crush is making me antsy.

Deciding that a breather is in order, I follow some people to the balcony door and walk outside. The cool air makes me shiver for a moment as my body reacts to the temperature change. Pulling my wrap around my shoulders I stand at the balcony and look out over the city. It never ceases to amaze me how beautiful the city is at night. The lights from the buildings twinkle like stars, the sky seems inky black, the moon shines over the tall buildings and the sounds from the taxis, buses, and people waft up into a dull buzz. I never get tired of looking. I lean against the railing and close my eyes, inhaling the smells and sounds of the city I am so lucky to live in.

“Hello Angel.”

I can’t move. That voice is in my imagination, it has to be my imagination. He’s not here, he can’t be here.

“How did you...when...was that...” my words trail off as his arms go about my waist, pulls me close and kisses the side of my neck.

“Thought you might want some company.”

I try to turn my body but his strong arms won’t let me move. They are tight around me and holding me pressed up against him. His fingers start to trace their way up the sides of my dress and then around to the front. I shiver as his fingers move the cold fabric of the dress. The air that was so chilly a moment ago is now heating my body.

“Cold Angel?”

Ever defiant, I answer, “No.”

He chuckles softly

“Oh my stubborn Angel. Be nice or I won’t give you your present.”

He nips at my ear and asks again.

“Cold Angel?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

His hands move to the top of my dress, half resting on the neckline, half on my bare skin. The warmth of his hands makes me shiver again and when he starts to massage my breast through the fabric, I jump and start to protest.

“Shhhh.”

His hands continue their movement and leaning back against him, I close my eyes. Almost immediately my body reacts. My nipples get hard and I can already feel the wetness between my legs. He leans down to kiss my neck and I turn my head to give him better access. His hair tickles as he licks and sucks at my neck. Even though the lights don’t afford much illumination out here I can see he’s wearing a dark jacket. Please don’t tell me, please don’t... I shiver again, though this time from the thoughts that are now running through my head. I need to see.

“Angel, you’re cold.”

A statement, not a question.

He steps away from me and the loss of warmth from his body makes me shiver again. Damned fabric.

“Turn around Angel.”

I’m almost afraid to, afraid of what I know I’ll see.

A big, tall man in a tuxedo. Crisp white shirt, gleaming black and sliver studs, shiny black shoes. And just at my eye level, a red bow tie.

I swear this man reads my mind.

He smiles at me as I just stare at him, god he’s beautiful, just absolutely, incredibly beautiful. The lights from the city shimmer above him, making his hair look darker than normal. His green eyes are watching me with a glint of pleasure as well as satisfaction as my eyes travel up and down his body.

“How did you know?”

“Charlie knows all about his Angels. I know what you desire, what you dream about, what you need, what you want.”

The last word is said as a whisper, a caress and I close my eyes to savor it.

I feel him move towards me and envelope me in his embrace. His chest is warm and the spicy scent of his cologne fills my head. His hands move my hair and go about my neck. I feel something cool slide down and come to rest just above my cleavage. He slides his hands along my shoulders, down my arms until his hands are clasping mine, they’re warm against the coolness but it’s funny, I’m not cold. I open my eyes and looking down I see the necklace I won at the auction is now laying against my skin.

“You didn’t have to.” I look up at him

“I know I didn’t have to, I wanted to.”

“But it wasn’t cheap.”

“So what?”

I try again

“You didn’t have to do this, I can’t accept...”

He cuts me off

“I did and you can and I won’t hear another word Angel. So STOP.”

And just like that I do.

He leans down and whispers into my ear.

“The way I see it, you owe me Angel. So come downstairs with me and I can be payed back.” His hands run down my back softly, gently, feathering touches and I am lost.

He takes me by the hand and leads me back inside, towards the elevators, towards my fantasy.
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