Everyone Dances

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The Angel of Death doles out an erotic romp for Caroline.
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Caroline loathed office parties. She usually avoided them at all costs, yet, here she was, on Halloween night, with only a Bloody Mary as company at a table in one of the University Club's banquet rooms on Halloween night.

Her life just seemed to be so boring lately. She suspected that a mild bout of depression was the culprit. Her job as a senior paralegal was tedious and monotonous. Her social life was non-existent. Her girlfriends all had boyfriends and preferred to spend their time with their men instead of going to clubs or movies with her. Caroline had not had a boyfriend in years. In fact, she couldn't even remember the last time she'd been with a man.

So, when the Halloween party had been announced, it piqued her interest because the idea of spending an evening masquerading as someone else was potently appealing. Caroline would have given anything to be anyone but herself at this point in her life.

She was dressed as a gypsy, wearing a dress with a purple, low-cut bodice and a pink and purple vertical-striped flared skirt. Her legs were sheathed in high-heeled, black suede boots that laced from ankle to knee. An assortment of gold and silver bracelets encircled both her wrists. Several different colors of long strands of beads hung from her neck and a pair of large, gold filigree earrings dangled down to her shoulders. Her elegant mask covered only the top of her face and was made of black velvet adorned with purple sequins and fluffy pink feathers at the crown. She had braided small gold amulets into strands of her long, dark brown, curly hair

The party was barely an hour old and already she was bored. Her fingers toyed absently with one of the strands of beads that swayed pell-mell between her breasts whenever she changed positions on her chair. She knew she should be socializing – mingling with the crowd around the food and booze tables – but Caroline was not the mingling type. Truth be told, she was a bit shy and always felt awkward in large groups of people. In fact, every time she had to chair a meeting of the firm's paralegals, her stomach would twist into a knot and her hands would shake.

Listening to the classic soft rock the DJ was playing, she began another lazy survey of the room, her eyes picking out familiar coworkers despite their costumes and masks.

There was Sandy Green from Accounting in a much-too-snug Cleopatra outfit. Kurt Owens, one of the associate lawyers, was standing beside Sandy, presumably her date, as he was wearing what Caroline presumed was a Mark Antony costume.

Maryanne Montrose, one of the junior paralegals, was surrounded by a group of horny male lawyers and paralegals. No surprise there. She was a notorious flirt and the men just ate it up. Tonight, she was decked out in a hula outfit, complete with a coconut bra and a flimsy grass skirt.

And Susan Lawrence from Payroll was sidling up against Ryan Cosgrove, a partner in the firm, probably trying to coerce him into sharing a dance with her. Her thin frame was draped in a short, white halter dress and a platinum blonde wig was covering her mousy brown hair. Marilyn Monroe? Not a very good choice. Susan didn't have the rack or the curves to fill out the dress.

Ryan, on the other hand, was looking rather dashing in a tuxedo with tails and a shiny top-hat. Fred Astaire? A magician perhaps?

Her questions swiftly faded from her mind as her eyes drifted to a formidably tall male figure standing by the padded, red leather doors to the room. Caroline sat up straighter in her chair, eager to get a better look at this unfamiliar man. He was wearing tight black trousers, a black silk waistcoat and a black frock coat. The poet's shirt he wore beneath was a startling brilliant shade of crimson. The laces were untied down to two inches above his waistcoat, revealing part of a smooth, pale chest. Frilled, red cuffs peeked out from the sleeves of his coat. A black mask obscured the top portion of his face which was framed by a veritable mane of thick, wavy hair that fell to his shoulders in tawny waves.

Who is he?* Caroline wondered, unable to tear her gaze away from his inviting presence. Surely she would have noticed if someone of his physique had joined the firm. He must be someone's guest.

As if sensing her interest in him, the tall stranger turned toward her direction and tilted his head slightly to one side. Despite the distance between them, Caroline could feel that he was focusing his attention directly upon her.

Feeling a flush of embarrassment warm her face, she quickly turned around in her chair and pretended to be very fascinated by a jack-o-lantern serving as the centerpiece on the table.

"You look very lovely tonight, Caroline."

She whirled around and found the stranger standing over her.

"W-what?" she stammered, craning her neck to look up at him.

"You look very lovely tonight," he repeated. His voice was deep and throaty.

Caroline found herself so distracted by the cadence of his voice and his sparkling blue eyes looking out at her from the oval slits in his mask that she had trouble focusing on his words. Did he just call me by my name?

"T-thank you," she finally sputtered, noticing the perfection of his lips.

"May I get you a drink?"

Caroline nodded. "A Bloody Mary, please. Olives, no celery."

"As you wish," he said with a smile.

She turned her head to watch him walk over to the liquor table, trying to see if his body was as alluring from the rear as it was from the front, especially his ass, but the length of his coat obscured her view.

When he returned, he was carrying two drinks. Both were Bloody Marys. He placed one of the glasses in front of her and gestured to the chair across from her.

"May I?" he asked, another soft smile curled on those perfect lips.

Caroline found herself unable to form a single word, so she simply nodded.

The stranger sat down and took a sip of his drink. "Mmm . . . this is good."

Caroline pulled an olive off of the plastic toothpick in her glass and popped it into her mouth.

He watched her while she chewed a second olive, but did not speak.

"So . . . who are you?" she blurted after what felt like a full minute of silence had passed.

"The Angel of Death," he replied.

Caroline chuckled. "No, I wasn't talking about your costume. I've never seen you in the office before. Are you new?"

"No."

"So you're here with someone?"

"No."

Caroline laughed nervously. "So what do you do? Go around crashing office parties?"

"Not exactly."

"Then who are you?"

"The Angel of Death."

"Okay, fine," she said with another nervous laugh. "Have it your way." She raised her glass to her mouth and swallowed down a large portion of her drink.

His blue eyes twinkled, but he said nothing.

Caroline's nervousness was morphing into concern. She felt as if she should excuse herself and leave the table. But instead, she asked: "Will you at least tell me your name?"

"Azrael," he responded softly.

"Azrael," she repeated, running her tongue experimentally around the word. "What an unusual name."

"Not really. Not where I live."

"And where is that?" she probed, hoping for a direct answer.

"Very far from here." He smiled.

Caroline used her right forefinger to toy with the ice in her glass. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"How did you know my name?"

Azrael leaned back in his chair. "I know many things."

"Oh?" What the hell was going on? Why was he being so evasive?

He rose abruptly to his feet and extended his large left hand to her. "Would you care to dance?"

Caroline felt her face flushing again. "I . . . don't dance." Her hands were trembling, so she placed them in her lap to hide them.

"Everyone dances," Azrael said with a chuckle as he reached down into her lap to grasp one of her hands. "Please?" he added.

She felt herself gazing into those wonderful blue eyes and knew that she could not refuse. "All right," she heard herself say as she allowed him to help her out of her chair. The touch of his hand felt electric.

They made their way to the dance floor and as soon as he wrapped his arms around her, Caroline felt . . . safe – which was incredibly ridiculous since he was a complete stranger. Yet, she felt a magnetic pull that would not release her.

His silky hair brushed against her forehead as he drew her to him more tightly and rested his cheek against the top of her head.

Caroline's own cheek was pressed against his firm chest and, even though one of her favorite songs was playing, all she could focus on was the rhythm of his heart thudding against her ear.

They swayed to the music, not even noticing when one song ended and another song began. It was only when a fast-paced rock song came over the speakers that they broke their embrace.

"Another drink?" Azrael asked.

Caroline paused for a moment. Dare she be so bold? "How about we just get out of here?" She had no idea where they would go. She wanted to take him back to her apartment, but that could be dangerous. She didn't know a thing about him.

"As you wish."

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she barely heard his answer. Then an idea crept into her head. "But masks off before we leave."

He smiled. "As you wish," he said again.

They removed their masks simultaneously.

Caroline looked up at Azrael's face. He was gorgeous.

"You're just as lovely without the feathers," he said with a laugh.

She laughed too. "I don't know where you'd like to go," she said, testing the waters, "but I'd really just like to go home and get out of this costume."

He nodded. "I understand."

"Um – would you care to join me?"

His blue eyes twinkled. "Of course."

*****

Caroline wanted him to follow her car with his, but he told her that he didn't have a car. She started to ask him how he got to the club, but decided against it. He would probably just give her another vague answer.

So, they took her car. She lived roughly ten minutes away, so the trip would be mercifully quick as she was beginning to run out of small talk.

"So, what do you do for a living?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the road.

"I deal with records," Azrael replied.

"Really? What kind of records?"

"Births and deaths."

"Oh. So you must work at the county courthouse."

He did not reply.

"I'm a paralegal," she offered, hoping for a response this time.

"That sounds interesting."

"I guess. I'm getting kind of bored with it."

"Well, I'm sure you could find a more fulfilling job quite easily."

Caroline laughed. "From your mouth to God's ears."

*****

As soon as they entered her dark apartment, Caroline turned on a lamp.

"Take off your coat," she told him, "and have a seat." She gestured toward the couch.

Azrael did as she suggested.

Caroline joined him on the couch and began removing all of her jewelry. She tossed the pile onto the coffee table, leaned back and let loose a huge sigh. "Now I've just got to get these damn boots off," she said. "My feet are killing me."

"Allow me." He reached for one of her legs and set it down in his lap. He began untying the laces, a tedious task at best, but he showed no signs of impatience as he worked at one boot and then the other, sliding them gently from her feet.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Azrael began massaging her aching feet. "So what do you have in mind?"

"Have in mind for what?" Caroline was enjoying the movements of his fingers on her feet so much that she didn't have a single thought in her head.

He chuckled. "What do you want to do?"

"Oh!" She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess we could watch some TV."

"Hmm . . . do you have any movies?"

"Sure. They're all over there on the shelves," she said, pointing to a wooden rack next to a window. "Go take a look."

He stood up and walked to it.

Caroline watched him as he perused her DVD collection. I wonder what he'll pick. Wait, I must be crazy. I just brought a perfect stranger into my home and I'm wondering what movie he wants to watch. Am I insane? I should be more concerned about who the hell he is. All those elusive and vague answers. I know next to nothing about him -

"How about this one?"

She shook her head to clear away her thoughts and looked at the DVD box he was holding up in one hand. "'Excalibur'?" she exclaimed. "That's one of my favorite movies of all time." She smiled as the fears she was feeling seconds before faded away. "How did you know?"

Azrael grinned. "Lucky guess?"

Caroline laughed. "Well, pop it in and I'll nuke some popcorn and get us some drinks. What would you like?"

"Whatever you're having," he replied. He seemed to be struggling with the DVD player.

"How about a Margarita?"

"That's fine."

"Be right back."

When Caroline returned to the living room, carrying a tray with a bowl of popcorn and two drinks, she found Azrael sitting on the couch, studying the remote controls.

"Here, let me do that," she said, setting down the tray and sitting down next to him. "My setup here is a bit funky."

They sat quietly, his arm around her shoulders, watching the movie, eating popcorn and sipping their drinks. Caroline kept stealing sidelong glances at Azrael, trying to gauge whether or not he was enjoying the movie and couldn't help but notice the expressions that passed over his face with each sip of his drink and every piece of popcorn that he popped into his mouth. He almost seemed surprised by the taste of the food and alcohol. Odd. But so was he, she thought – in a good way.

The last fifteen or so minutes of the movie always made Caroline cry – the return of Lancelot – the fatal wound to Arthur – Percival screaming out for Arthur – throwing Excalibur into the lake as Arthur lay dying.

She tried to hide her tears from Azrael, but failed. He took her head between his hands and wiped away her tears with his fingers. "I feel like such an idiot," she said, trying to laugh.

"Why?"

"It's just a movie."

Azrael leaned in and kissed her softly.

Caroline stroked his cheek and returned the kiss.

Without a word, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom where he eased her onto the bed and knelt down in front of her.

Caroline closed her eyes and ran her fingers through his lush hair as he slipped off her thigh-high hose. She was so wet; her panties were soaked by a vicious need that she had never felt before.

Azrael was running his hands down her legs from thighs to feet. Then she opened her eyes and clenched her fingers in his hair, hoping to draw his face to hers for a kiss or twenty. But Azrael either didn't get the hint or didn't choose to comply. Instead, he placed gentle kisses upon her feet, then her ankles and her calves, working his way up to her thighs where he stopped and looked up at her.

"Your skin is so smooth," he murmured, stroking her legs again, "so delicate."

Caroline said nothing. She wanted him to touch her everywhere. She wanted to touch him everywhere.

And then she did something she had never done before - not once in her twenty-nine years - due to her timid nature. She began to undress him.

As Azrael reached behind her to unzip her dress, Caroline unbuttoned his vest and slipped it off his shoulders, then began working on the laces of his shirt as he gently tugged off her dress. Now wearing only a black lace bra and matching panties, she raised her arms so that she could pull his shirt off over his head and let it drop to the floor.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as they continued to remove each other's clothes carefully, pausing to savor each inch of newly exposed skin.

When all their garments had been stripped away, Caroline sat naked on the bed, somewhat unabashed, with only a few concerns about what Azrael thought of her generously curvaceous body. Instead, she ran her eyes over his body as he rose to his feet before her. And she immediately liked what she saw – broad shoulders, a muscular, hairless chest, tight abs, large biceps and - shit, literally every inch of his body was well-muscled. And how could she miss his sizeable cock that was already at half-mast?

Caroline wished that he would turn around so she could see if the rest of his body was as perfect from that view.

As if reading her thoughts, Azrael slowly did a 360 and Caroline was able to see more muscles along his back and his firm, round ass.

*Damn, why would a guy like this want anything to do with me?*

"Well?"

Caroline realized she had been staring into space for a few moments and now focused her eyes on Azrael. He was standing with his arms spread at his sides.

"Huh?"

"What do you think?" he asked.

Caroline paused, and then began to laugh.

"Why are you laughing?" Azrael asked, with a crease in his brow.

"Oh – I'm sorry," she said, trying to contain her laughter. "It's just that I've never heard a man ask that before."

"Oh."

Feeling a bit sheepish, Caroline rose to her feet and pressed her body against his. "You're . . . gorgeous," she said murmured. "Positively gorgeous."

"And you," Azrael began while wrapping his strong arms around her, "are positively beautiful." He bowed his head, tipped her face upward, and brushed his lips against hers. It was a whispery kiss that quickly turned into a passionate kiss and then into a voracious kiss.

One kiss led to two and then to three . . . They were devouring one another, hands caressing flesh as they fed. Azrael breathed sighs of pleasure into Caroline's mouth. She could feel his cock, now rock hard, poking into her belly.

Bodies still locked together, they moved to the bed. They collapsed onto the mattress as one, landing on their sides. After a few more minutes of kissing and touching, Caroline was the first to break their embrace.

She rolled onto her back, panting rapidly, trying to catch her breath. Her dripping wet pussy was contracting with an urgent, aching need to be filled. She turned her head to look at Azrael, and saw that his breathing was labored as well.

Their eyes met and he smiled. "I want to touch you everywhere," he said quietly. "I want to taste you, please you."

"Yes." It was the only word in Caroline's brain. She could think of nothing more to say. It was as if her arousal had reached a height so high that her mind was blank. Her body had taken complete control.

She closed her eyes when she felt Azrael's hand cupping her pussy. She knew that her flowing juices were pooling in his hand. Then one of his fingers was flicking her hardened clit.

"Oh God," she moaned as Azrael's finger began massaging her nub in a slow circular motion. "Harder," she said between gasps. "Faster!"

She closed her eyes and focused solely upon Azrael's finger - rubbing, stroking, even tugging at her clit. Her shoulders and arms began twitching erratically and violent shivers began attacking random parts of her body. This was it. She was going to . . . going to . . . come!

"Oh, yes!" she cried out as her pussy clenched and unclenched over and over again, sending shudders all the way up her belly as tremors erupted all along her entire body.

Caroline barely noticed when Azrael withdrew his finger, pushed her body up toward the pillows and replaced his finger with the tip of his tongue.

She moaned and squirmed wildly as her first orgasm faded and a second one immediately began as Azrael's tongue played her clit as if it were a musical instrument.

Caroline lost all control as the second orgasm attacked her. She seized hold of Azrael's hair, pulling at it viciously while her legs thrashed wildly against the bed.

The shivers of her climax continued even after Azrael had shifted his long body so that his head was hovering over hers. Even though her eyes were still closed, Caroline sensed the proximity of his head and was not surprised when he pressed his mouth to hers and kissed her forcefully. She tasted her cum on his lips and used her tongue to both dance with his and lap at her juices that remained on his mouth and chin.

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