Angel Ch. 10

Angel understood, and she told him so. She was disappointed, but she would certainly not insist, especially when there was a new T-girl who was depending on Gus. "Say hello to Luanne for me. I hope I can meet her some time."

"I'll do that, and I think she's like to meet you too."

While Gus was getting dressed, Angel covered her nakedness with a robe. After he was through, and had relieved himself in the bathroom, she walked him to the door, opened it and looked out into the hallway. There was nobody there, so they hugged and kissed warmly and said their goodnights, before he walked down the hall to the lift. When she slept by herself, Angel usually wore a frilly, feminine nightie, and she put on an aqua babydoll, straightened out the bed and climbed in, to quickly fall asleep.

In the morning, she felt a brief flash of disappointment at being alone in bed, until Angel recalled the night before. She smiled and thought about Augustus and Luanne, and hoped the advice she had given to him to be passed along to her would be helpful. Although she would miss the very pleasant Saturday morning sex, Angel considered her sacrifice to be worth it, if she could help a fellow T-girl through a difficult transition.

She would also miss the company of a man at the brunch buffet she would indulge in at the local restaurant where she went every Saturday morning. That thought reminded her of an idea that had passed through her mind the previous week. When she went to brunch in the company of a man, the manager was strictly business, which was to be expected. However, on those occasions when she went there alone, he was quite openly flirtatious, sometimes even coming to her table with a flower he filched from the centerpiece on one of the other tables.

A week earlier, she had thought about a possible rendezvous with him and what it would be like, and if such a thing would even be possible. He might be all talk and no action, or he might be married, although he didn't wear a wedding ring. In keeping with Angel's very firm policy, his being married would eliminate him as a potential sex partner. He almost certainly didn't know of her status as a T-girl, and he might be repelled by that. On the positive side, he was about forty years old, large and burly, and he appeared to be hairy-chested, all qualities Angel found to be highly appealing. That morning, since she would be going there by herself, would be a good time to find out more about his potential. There was no such thing, Angel reasoned, as having too many available sex partners.

After her shower, in which she concentrated on thoroughly washing her pussy, Angel put on her sexiest matching under garments, including stockings, and covered them with a short, tight green skirt and a low-cut, light green blouse that showed as much cleavage as she could manage. If she was going fishing, she wanted the lure to be as tempting and to look as available as she could manage. That included using her brightest red lipstick, the shade described by the manufacturer as "Scarlet." Wanting to be fully prepared, Angel made sure the contents of her purse included a small bottle of Aqualube and a selection of condoms of different sizes. With all in readiness, the questing T-girl left her flat and walked down the hall to the lift and rode it to the lobby.

She had ridden in the lift by herself and there was nobody in the lobby either, which was fine with Angel. Although not secretive about her sexual escapades, she also did not want to become the subject of gossip among other tenants in the block of flats. There were a few people on the street and, as usual, Angel felt good about the way the men all stared at her, appreciating her lovely face and hair and figure and long legs. She no longer needed to have her femininity validated; she was long past that, but Angel still enjoyed the sometimes concealed envy of women and the overt admiration of men..

That morning, the man who admired her more than any other was Peter Chambers, the manager of the restaurant. When he saw Angel enter by herself, he waited a minute and, when no man followed her inside, he hurried over to greet her, because he knew where he wanted her to be seated if she really was alone.

"Good morning, Angel. By yourself this morning?" As he spoke, his hand was lightly on her back, ushering her to that table he had been saving for her, partly concealed by some plants, so it was the most private one in the restaurant. He had been expecting the young beauty but, had she been accompanied by a man as was usually the case, he would have let them find their own table.

"That's right, Peter. Sometimes it just happens that way." She smiled at him, even friendlier than she usually was.

He held her chair for Angel, peeking down her blouse at the delightful cleavage that he didn't know had been put on display especially for him. "Anything I can do for you Angel, anything at all, just let me know." Peter went to a neighboring table and plucked a red rose from the vase.

"A beautiful posy for you, Angel, but one not half so beautiful as you," he said as he handed the blossom to his favorite patron.

"Yes, I would like to ask you for something, but not just yet. Thank you for the rose, Petey."

He left, thinking about the affectionate name she had just called him, which gave him a pleasant feeling. Angel went to the steam table to help herself to cheese omelet and bangers and toasted sweet French bread with small packets of marmalade. She poured herself a large mug of coffee from the big steel urn, added cream and sugar, and carried her tray to her table, where she took her time and ate heartily. With her plate cleaned, Angel went to the cold table for fresh fruit, making sure to select the largest banana there, and refilled her coffee mug. When she returned to her table, Peter was sitting across from where she had been. He stood up when she approached, and sat down again after she was seated.

"Well, Angel, have you decided what you want me to do for you?"

She took a sip of her coffee. "I have, but I'm not sure you'll want to do it."

"You know I would do anything for you." He meant it too. Peter would have done anything for the beautiful young woman, including climbing the mythical highest mountain or swimming the hypothetical deepest sea.

"Do you really mean that?" As she spoke, Angel completely removed the peeling from the large banana, held it in her fingers and thrust it deeply into her mouth. A second later, she pulled it back out again, caressing its smooth, white length with her lips. She repeated the suggestive display four more times, except that she held the fruit stationary and moved her face back and forth. Angel was silent, but kept looking straight at Peter with her beautiful blue eyes and let her actions speak for her.

The amorous restaurant manager stared at the long white cylinder sliding in and out between Angel's luscious red lips. He had lusted for the beautiful blonde from the first time he saw her, especially since she usually came to the restaurant on Saturday mornings with a man, whom he correctly believed had shared her bed the night before. Angel was so lovely, he yearned to be that man one of those times and, preferably, all of them. He knew little about her, except that she was young and beautiful and, apparently, rather promiscuous. The fact that her partners were always about his age or even older had given him a miniscule spark of hope he might be the one with her one day, but watching as she smiled at him and pretended to suck off a banana was giving him infinitely more .

Angel took the firm, white fruit out of her mouth and licked all around the tip with full strokes of her tongue. She held it lightly in her fingers, just touching her lips while she smiled around it at the man across the table. "Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked.

"Pretty doesn't half describe you. Beautiful or gorgeous or lovely or stunning come closer, but even those words aren't enough. I would say you are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, and that even includes a couple of cinema stars."

"Thank you, Petey. A girl likes to be appreciated. But, did you know that I'm a T-girl?"

"A what?"

"A T-girl. A transsexual. I was born a boy, but I knew it was a mistake, so I took treatments and changed myself into a girl and grew up to be a woman."

Peter realized what Angel had just told him and was astounded at the news, but not dismayed. "I find that hard to believe, Angel. You look too pretty and too feminine."

"Well, it's the truth. The men you may have seen me come in here with could all tell you that. They wouldn't, because they're gentlemen, but they would if I asked them to."

"Oh, I believe you. It's just that, well, I have known a couple of women who were transsexuals, and you look nothing like they do. One of them used to work here. She was nice enough, but kind of clumsy and homely. She certainly didn't look anything like you."

"Well, maybe I'm just lucky about my looks. Believe me, though, I'm all woman, except for one thing." As she spoke, Angel placed her hand against her clit, which had become partially erect during the conversation, and was creating a bulge in her tight miniskirt. The gesture was lost on Peter, because he wasn't able to see her through the table.

"And," she continued. "I like to do the things that other women like, but sometimes in different ways." To let Peter know exactly what she meant, Angel slipped the banana back into her mouth, and stroked it between her lips a few more times, this time deep-throating its entire eight inch length.

Although the table they were sharing was the most intimate one in the room, it was certainly not private enough for what Angel was obviously implying. He thought about his tiny office. It was the only place in the restaurant where they could have any kind of privacy and, if his cock was going to replace that banana in Angel's mouth, that would be the place they would have to go. There wouldn't be enough room to fuck, but there would be enough for him to sit on his swivel chair while she sucked him off, and that was what she was suggesting.

"Angel, have you ever seen my office?"

"No, I haven't. Where is it?"

"Would you like to see it? It's right over there." As he pointed to the door, Peter quickly cast his eyes around. Nobody was paying any attention to the corner of the room where they were, and the door to the office was just a few feet away. He preferred that nobody see him go there with a female customer, but he had become so sexually aroused by the interplay between Angel and the banana that he would have taken her there even if everybody in the room and the street outside had been videotaping them.

"Yes, I think I'd like to see your...office." From her wink and her grin, it was obvious that Angel had other things in mind than inspecting the property.

Angel smiled again, more lewdly this time, and let Peter see her licking her tongue slowly all around her lips. She stood up and left the ersatz cock on her plate, looking forward to having it replaced with the real thing in a matter of minutes. Peter hurriedly looked around again and still saw nobody paying any attention to either him or Angel. He quickly strode the few feet to the door of the office, pulled it open and held it for his beautiful guest. She stepped around the table, picked up her purse, and also looked around the room they would be leaving, before hurrying over to join him.

When the restaurant had been opened, and the furniture and decorations had been put in place, the entrance to the office had deliberately been screened off by plants. Later, since there was space being wasted, their small table and two matching chairs had been placed nearby, and it looked to Peter as if that was going to turn out to be a fortuitous coincidence.

There would have been no reason for the door to have been locked during the business day, and it hadn't been but, as soon as Peter and Angel were inside the small room and the lights had been turned on, he made sure to secure it behind them. The office was only about six feet square, with the same linoleum tile floor as the main room of the restaurant. Most of the space was taken up by a small metal desk and filing cabinet against the wall across from the door, and there was a padded swivel chair turned as if its occupant had just gotten up and stepped out the exit. Still smiling, but even more lewdly than before, Angel indicated the chair..

"Sit down, Petey. Make yourself comfortable." As she spoke, she kicked off her pumps, taking her own advice.

Having no problem being directed by a woman who, he expected, was about to give him what he believed would be a memorable blow job, he sat, with his legs apart. Angel quickly got to her knees between them, still smiling and gazed up at his face. She started by removing his shoes and socks. When Peter's feet were bare, Angel leaned forward and unbuckled his belt, unhooked the waistband of his slacks and unzipped the fly. He raised his ass from the chair and she pulled the pants down and all the way off and set them aside.

Angel would have been able to suck off Peter without removing any of her clothing, but she likes to be comfortable, and she likes to show off her breasts. She had been wearing her sheer blouse casually over the waistband of her skirt, and she quickly unbuttoned it, shrugged out of it, and tossed it on top of Peter's pants. Still smiling, she held the cups of her bra in place with one hand and reached behind her back and unhooked the clasp with the other, in preparation for the little show she likes to put on for all her new sex partners.

Angel straightened up, with her shoulders back and her chest thrust out. Simultaneously, with the bra still held in one hand, she spread her arms wide apart, exposing her succulent breasts. To emphasize that the lovely globes were all real, she rolled her shoulders, making them dance and sway in front of the man in the chair.

Once again, Peter stared, enraptured, at the beautiful T-girl. He might possibly have seen better looking breasts on magazine gatefolds or in films, but he had never seen a live pair that were as gorgeous as the ones on display for him less than two feet away. When he reached out and hefted them in his hands, they felt full and vibrant and the nipples, when he touched them with his thumbs, were rigid. Enjoying the attentions, Angel moved in closer, and he leaned forward to lick them. The hard pink nubbins felt at least as good to his tongue as they had in his hands or against his thumbs. Although licking them was pleasurable in the extreme, his cock was loudly clamoring for a chance to experience what Angel's long, white banana had. Peter sat back in his chair, only to raise his ass again to let Angel pull his shorts down and off around his feet. She was naked above her waist, and he was equally bare below his.

With Peter's mouth no longer caressing her nipples, Angel backed slightly away, leaned forward to rest her elbows lightly on his thighs and gently held his shaft in the fingers of one hand. It was fully erect, of course, after what he had seen and done and knew was about to happen. Moving her face closer, she paused with her lips just above his cock and stuck out her tongue to touch the tip. After that first contact, she slowly brought her mouth closer, while licking the head in concentric circles. As she always did, Angel loved the texture under her face, like velvet, and the slit on the end of the hard cock. Her tongue kept caressing them as she lowered her face, until the head had been engulfed. After that, she got busy licking ahead of her lips, and she continued until Peter's cock was deeply inside her mouth.

When she felt the head pressing against the back of her throat, Angel stopped enveloping the hard shaft. She had long since gotten over gagging when touched by a cock there, thanks to early practice on cooked sausages and plenty of experience with the real thing since then. Later, she would open her throat and take in its entire length, as she had with the banana, until her lips were being tickled by Peter's pubic hair but, for the time being, she stopped short of that. Not only was her mouth pleasurably filled, Angel's tongue took great joy in laving the hard cylinder that felt so good under its attentions.

Still keeping her eyes focused on Peter's face, enjoying the grimaces of pleasure that flickered across it, Angel slowly raised her face, removing her mouth from around his cock until just the head remained between her lips. She held it there, her tongue fondling the velvety mushroom shape and probing against the slit. After a few seconds of this, Angel slowly lowered her face until the tip of the cock was pressing against the back of her throat again. As always, especially with somebody new, the first few strokes of her mouth were slow as she accustomed herself to the new tenant, who would be paying for his occupancy by providing her with a mouthful of delicious cum.

To Peter, it was one of the greatest sexual thrills of his life, and he slid forward on the chair, wanting to give Angel as much freedom to move around as she might want. He got another benefit from his change in position. From that angle, he had a great view of her lovely features as his cock went in and out, the most erotic sight in his experience. The beautiful face, with creamy-white skin and big, blue eyes looking adoringly at him, was slowly bobbing up and down taking his erect cock between her scarlet lips and deeply into her mouth. Not only was he treated to that vision, he could also see Angel's lovely breasts swaying gently as her head and body moved. His visual delights got even better. Angel's hands had been caressing his balls and his crotch and the insides of his thighs, but then they went to her waist, unbuttoned and unzipped her skirt, and pushed it down to the floor.

The cock gliding in and out of Angel's mouth was hard as it could be, but no harder than her own clit. Usually, she prefers that her sex partner stroke her there with his hands until she cums, but that would not have been physically possible that morning, with the limited space. After pushing her skirt down, she raised her knees, one at a time from the floor, and slid the garment under them and down and off around her feet, leaving it piled with the other clothing. That left her wearing nothing but her stockings and sheer French knickers, which could scarcely contain her erect clit.

She cautiously slid her hands inside the last garment to hold the rigid organ out of the way, and peeled the waistband of her knickers down until her clit was sticking out above it. Once she could do so safely, Angel pushed her lingerie down her legs and pulled it off the same way as she had removed her skirt, leaving herself virtually naked. While she concentrated on her disrobing, Angel's mouth had been holding Peter's cock stationary but, once she was naked, her head resumed its bobbing up and down, drawing the hard shaft in and out, as she stroked her clit at the same pace. It was a slow pace, for she was in no hurry, and wanted to make the pleasure last as long as possible.

Angel succeeded admirably in that aim. She made no effort to keep track, but she knew she took Petey's cock in and out of her mouth thousands of times, and stroked her clit just as often, while a mountain of pleasure built up for both of them. Although she couldn't say anything, with her mouth being constantly crammed so pleasantly full, her murmurs of pleasure were audible to the man she was sucking off. He had no need to speak, but his soft moans and whimpers of extreme pleasure said it for him, as did the way his body writhed blissfully on his swivel chair.

Ever since the first time he saw her, Peter had been lusting for the beautiful, sexy young blonde, with no real hope of ever being even noticed by her but, on that most glorious of mornings, she knelt before him, sucking him off and masturbating herself for nearly an hour. Although Angel's mouth caressed his cock slowly, making their mutual joy last for a long time, the pleasure she was giving him was so exquisite that he finally reached a point where the mountain was at its highest and he knew his climax was only moments away.