Angel of Joy

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

I got up, feeling the blood flow back into my right arm and the burning irons in my joints and got a box of Kleenex. When I lay down beside her again I watched her dab at her eyes, then blow her nose.

Her smile was apologetic, "I don't know what happened. I just lost it."

"Do you feel better?"

When she looked over at me, all she could see was my naked chest. "What do you want, Sally, I don't understand."

I kissed her hair, "Honestly? I've already said it. I want to be your angel of joy, nothing could make me happier."

I could feel her frustration, "But what is that, an angel of joy? I don't understand."

"Are you happy?"

She hesitated, as if not wanting to deal with the truth. "No."

"Have you ever been happy?"

She hesitated again. "No ... Never."

"Would you like to be happy?"

"Of course I would." There was a hopelessness in her voice.

"Can you learn to be happy on your own?"

Her laugh was hollow, bitter, "Apparently not."

"Well, that's where my angel of joy comes in. I can make you happy, I'd love to make you happy."

But she didn't respond, not for the longest time. "Is this about sex?"

"No, it's about making you happy, that will make us both happy." But that was only partly true so I felt I had to add, "But I want to make love to you, too, Jane. I really want to make love to you."

She struggled up and sat on the edge of the bed. "So it is about sex. I don't want it."

I sat up beside her. "I don't either."

She looked at me, she really was having a hard time figuring any of this out. "But you just said you did."

"No, I said I want to make love to you, there's a big difference."

She had turned away, "It's the same thing."

"No it isn't," I put my hand on her shoulder. "Are you afraid to touch me?"

"No, of course not." But she didn't look at me.

I lay down again, "Then touch me." When I took her hand and placed it on my naked stomach she froze, but she didn't remove it. "Touch me, Jane. Please. Touch me." Then I added, to ease the tension, "You caused all the pain, at least you can massage a little away."

She looked at me and gave a little laugh, but it got her hand moving, just a little and I gently stroked her arm in encouragement.

Her mind must have been spinning. At first she wouldn't look at me but as her fingers began to cover a greater area she looked over at them. "I shouldn't be doing this, Sally."

"Why? You don't like to touch me?"

"No, it's not that ..."

"I love you touching me, Jane. I think about it all the time. And I think about touching you." I caught her arm and gently pulled her down and I snuggled into to her. "I want to be your angel of joy. I want to bring joy into your life. Will you let me?"

She didn't answer me, but in a few moments I could feel her relax and I wanted her to stay that way so I just held her. When I woke up she was gone.

At work, I looked at the phone all day wondering if she would call, wondering if I should call her. I didn't and she didn't and I didn't see or hear from her for the next three days but on Thursday night, as I walked to the bus stop after work she came up to me from behind, took me by the arm and said, "Can we go for a walk?"

We went over to Drower's Park, two blocks away. She didn't say anything, and I didn't know what to say. When she hadn't tried to speak to me after our night together I thought it was over, I thought I had gone too far, too fast. Now, I was confused.

But when we were walking in the park she said, "I've always been alone, Sally, for as long as I can remember. I don't know any other way to live." I started to say something encouraging but she squeezed my arm to stop me, "Please, let me just get this out." We walked a little further in silence and I wonder if this was a Dear Joan walk. "I don't know what you see in me. I don't know why you want to spend time with me, no one ever has. And it scares me." We walked in silence for a minute, I knew she was thinking. "Funny, ah, a 45 year old woman scared because someone seems to like her." I spoke up again, but again she stopped me. "I'm scared because I don't know what you want. And I'm scared because I don't know what I have to give."As we walked I fought off the urge to grab her, to squeeze her.

"I've been dancing on air for the past three days, Sally. Dancing on air." I had been preparing myself for rejection so her words didn't really register at first, but when they did, I stopped and grabbed her arm. But she pulled it away. "Please, just listen to me." And I wanted to but when she started to walk, I couldn't move so she came back and faced me. "I don't understand any of this, Sally. I'm just lost. But I feel alive when I'm with you. This is what I want to tell you. I want to spend time with you."

But it wasn't the kind of time I wanted to spend with her. I wanted to be in her bed, in her arms, instead I was sitting beside her later that evening at a movie. I didn't take her hand and she didn't take mine but I could feel her next to me and I could feel that she was leaning into me, just a little. Not the next night though. On Friday night she took me to a well lit hall to listen to a chamber orchestra which, surprisingly, a really enjoyed.

We were on the trail on Saturday morning by 8:30 and by 10 we were resting in a tiny meadow overlooking a falls. She was sitting on the grass with her arms pressing her knees to her chest telling me how she had discovered the place. She was glowing. In the past two days she'd become a different person. She had opened up, welcomed me into her world and I was feeling a love and desire for her I could barely contain. I wasn't listening to her, I was looking at her. Since I first met her she seemed to have undergone a metamorphosis, like a flower in time-lapsed photography, gradually opening until, at this moment, she seemed to be in full bloom. I couldn't take it any longer. I stood up and reached my hand down to her. When she took it I pulled her to her feet and into my arms and I held her, feeling the heat from her body, her breath on my neck and I could feel her arms tighten around my neck.

I knew it might wreck the moment, but I had to know. I pulled back, looked into her eyes then put my lips on hers and waited. She didn't kiss me, but she didn't pull back either. She just sorted of panted on me, as if wanting me but not knowing what to do. But I did. I squeezed her to me and sucked in her lips and I could hear myself moaning and she was moaning, too but she sounded a little scared so I released her, hoping she wouldn't flee. She didn't, she seemed like she was in shock: her eyes were wide and white, staring at me.

I couldn't keep my hands off her all the way back to her apartment, not on the trail, not in the car and not on the walk to her door. And certainly not inside where I wrapped her in my arms and hugged her then pulled her towards her bedroom. But I couldn't make it. Even before the doorway I was down on the floor pulling off my shoes and socks and I had my shorts and tee shirt off before I jumped on the bed.

"This is really easy for you, isn't it?" She wasn't annoyed, she was just standing by the bed, fully clothed. I reached up and took her arm and pulled her onto the bed beside me, "If you want something as badly as I want this, how hard can it be?" My hands were tearing at her shirt but she pushed me away and sat on the edge of the bed. Even there I couldn't stop myself. I reached for her tee shirt and tried to take it off but she pushed my hands away again. "Jeez," she laughed, "You've been mauling me since the meadow."

"Well, ya," and I pulled at her shirt again and got it up high enough so I could kiss the bare and sweaty skin of her back, but only for a moment because she pushed it down again. "Come on," I was getting frustrated now and I was pulling pretty hard at her tee shirt.

She slapped at my hand, not in anger or anything, but she was making a point, "Behave."

But, really, I was too far gone for that. I was at her tee shirt again, I just couldn't wait any longer. "You'll have to tie me up. I just can't help myself." With that she sprang off the bed and went to her closet and when she turned around she had two scarves in her hands and a mischievous smile on her face. "Oh, no you don't!"

"It was your idea." She sat down beside my and took my hand and I let her tie a scarf around it.

"This isn't fair," I said, but, really, I was unbelievably turned on, but I don't think she knew it, I think she just wanted to keep me still for awhile while she sorted out her emotions.

"I can't do this the way you want to do it, Sally." She tied the scarves around both my wrists and then to the bed posts. When she finished she bent down and kissed me gently on the lips. "I have never had sex before." She waited to allow that bit of information to sink in. "I have never wanted it, and anyway, I have never had the opportunity." She started to touch my stomach like she did when she came over to give me a massage. "And then I met you." She leaned over me and carefully released my breasts from my sports bra.

When I watched her lips lower onto my stiff nipple I struggled at the scarves, which no longer seemed like a good idea, "Please, Jane, undo me, I'll be good."

But she didn't; she looked up at me and smiled, "In a minute," then she returned to my breast and licked and sucked it gently, then she did the same to the other and I could see my erect nipples glisten with her spit.

"Please," I said, "please."

She sat up and put her hands on my panties but before she removed them she kissed me on the stomach. "When you first told me you wanted to have sex with me, wanted to make love with me, I was shocked. Disgusted. Do you remember?"

I could feel her finger nails under my panties, "yes," my voice was a whisper, my mouth was dry, I could hear my heart.

I raised my bum and she pulled them off and dropped them on the floor and looked at my sex, clearly, she was no longer disgusted. "I have never before been naked in front of anyone." She kissed me on the stomach again, I could feel her chin on my pubic hair. "Do you want to see me?"

"Please, Jane," I was squirming at the ties, "don't do this. Let me go."

She took her tee shirt off then leaned forward and kissed me on the lips, "Just be still a minute. This is hard for me."

When she turned and started to take off her hiking boots I thought I was going to faint. She was wearing a very thin jog bra; I could see a nipple straining against it and I've never wanted anything more than to have that nipple in my mouth. I moaned, "Jane, please."

She turned to me again when her boots and socks were off and she kissed me gently, "I'm not trying to be mean. Just wait a moment, this is one of the big moments of my life. You can give me a minute or two."

But I couldn't, "Oh, God, Jane, please," I was now frantically pulling at my binding, my legs squeezed together to fend off an orgasm, but I knew I wasn't going to last, "I'm going to cum, Jane, I'm going to cum." Her eyes went wide with surprise, it seemed to shock her, "Please, your fingers."

It took her a moment to understand me but when she did, she leaned down beside me, put her fingers between my open legs and allowed me to beat myself against them and scream into her shoulder while the convulsions spasmed through me, wave after wave and my insides seemed to gush from me onto her fingers and I could see my chest heave while I fought for air. Then I collapsed, hopelessly drained of energy, helplessly in love, tied to a bed now soaking up my own juices.

I could smell me on the fingers that were now caressing my face, "Are you alright?"

"Oh, God, Jane," I was pulling at the scarves and curling my knees to get to her, "let me loose, Jane, let me hold you, I need to hold you."

She pushed me flat and kissed me on the lips more tenderly than every before. "Another minute, just another minute, I want you to see me; do you want to see me?"

"Oh, God, Jane, this is so not fair." I had tears in my eyes now but she couldn't see them, she had turned away and was now standing, taking off her clothes. I fought through my tears to see her but it was like looking at her through an opaque window. "Please, please," my voice whimpered, this was so unfair, all I wanted to do was hold her.

Through my tears I could see she was standing still just a few feet away. "Well?" Her voice sounded timid, unsure.

I started to cry from my frustration, "I can't see you, Jane; my eyes are filled with tears." I felt powerless, like a prisoner, all I wanted to do was hold her and she wouldn't let me.

I felt the Kleenex daub at my eyes and when I opened them and blinked a few times she was sitting beside me, smiling. "This is hard for me, Sally, I have never been naked in front of anyone before. I just want you to look at me. Please look at me, then you can hold me. OK?"

When I nodded she got up and stood before me. She is thin with big breasts that sag slightly and she has a magnificent triangle of whispy brown hair at her crotch. I lost it; I exploded in rage, "Take these fucking things off me right now!"

I was frantically pulling at the scarves when I felt a breast beat at my face as she tried to undo the knots, but I had strained so hard they were impossible to untie so she got some scissors and when she cut me free I threw my arms around her and wrestled her onto the bed and I lay across her crying, I didn't know why, from fear, from relief, from joy, from love. "You tortured me," I said, as I felt her hands caress my head, soothing me, as I had tried to soothe her a few days ago.

She scoffed, "I didn't torture you, I just wanted a little time and I wasn't going to get it with you pulling at me." She kissed my hair, "Anyway, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

And I knew she didn't, I knew she was nervous, I could sense how hard this had been for her. But she had done it, she had kissed me, put her fingers in me, she had coaxed from me the most exquisite orgasm of my life and she had taken her clothes off for me and was lying beside me, with her face in my hair and her hand caressing my arm.

She looked up expectantly as I pulled myself away from her and kneeling over her I began to stroke her stomach, as she had stroked mine. I felt her shiver at my touch and she tried to turn away, but I pushed at her hip and she settled back, turning her face away, breathing hard, her chest heaving. "Oh, God, Sally."

How many times had I been here in my dreams? How many times had I had Jane Carter under me, begging for my touch, begging for my love. When I bent down and sucked at her long hard nipple she moaned and she was moaning when I kissed along her stomach, down to her pubic hair when I pulled her legs apart and gently eased a finger in her and when I did, she thrust at it frantically, bucking at my fingers and she let out a long shrill scream and I turned to watch her sit up so she could look at herself as a magnificent flow of warm fluid exploded from her, bathing my fingers, soaking the bed.

She was pulling at my arm now, trying to pull me down but I didn't move, I couldn't, I watched the fluids seep from her, pooling in a great wet stain between her legs. It was the most erotic thing I had every seen, ever imagined and I couldn't help myself, I bent down and nuzzled my face into her, tasting her, feeling her wetness against my face, the wetness I had caused.

She was pulling at me more insistently now, so I lay down beside her and she swung a leg over me and folded herself around me, pressing herself into me. I could feel her trembling so I caressed her back which was smooth and muscular. "That was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," I said, and I meant it. "You are magnificent." When I pushed her off me, onto her back, I rested on my arm and looked at her.

She had tears in her eyes but she was smiling. "Oh, God, Sally, I don't know what to say."

She began to kiss my shoulder. I reached out to her breast, took it in my hand, squeezed it roughly, thumbed the nipple then bent down and sucked on it to get it wet then I rubbed it against my cheek and eye, feeling the erotic intimacy in my groin. I had no idea I could feel like this.

She pulled my face away and kissed me, "Ewh," smelling herself on me she pushed me away, "You need a bath." She rolled off the bed, and laughed, "and so do these sheets."

I didn't move. I watched her as she bent down to pull the sheets from the bed, her large breasts swaying, her inner thighs still wet. She seemed an entirely different person, far more sexual, far softer, more vulnerable, more human — more desirable.

She looked over at me, "Well?"

"I can't believe you tied me up!"

She was bending forward, her hand on the bed, her tits hanging so erotically I could feel it in my pussy. She smiled, "You told me to."

"I couldn't keep my hands off you."

She laughed, "No kidding."

"And I won't be able to, either, I won't ever be able to keep my hands off you."

"It was a big thing for me, Sally. I don't know why but it was a big thing to me. Seems stupid now," she looked down at her breasts then went to her closet and put on a robe. "It was difficult to take my clothes off in front of someone. It didn't help that you were trying to pull them off. Nakedness is new to me. I've never really been naked," she smiled embarrassingly, "I've never really look at myself."

"You should. You're fantastic," I rolled off the bed towards her. I was planning to pull her robe off and I guess she knew it because as soon as I was standing she pushed me onto the bed again. It surprised me, "Jeez, who are you, ropes, violence ..."

She was laughing, "Take a bath, I need to clean this up."

I did as I was told but it wasn't easy leaving her and it wasn't easy watching her sit on the toilet, that's why, when she looked away, I grabbed her by the robe and pulled her into the bath tub. She was sputtering when she came up and she looked scared and angry but I pulled her to me and kissed her with everything I had and she was soon kissing me back and climbing on me, her wet robe a weight on both of us.

She helped me and I had the wet robe off in a moment and she straddled me with her tits hovering over my face, teasing me. "You may have been afraid to get naked but ever since you did you've acted like a wanton harlot," I said.

She pressed her breasts into my face, laughing. "I'm a quick learner, thanks to you."

I had to have her again. I pushed her out of the tube, onto the floor and I was on her with a towel, rubbing her, roughly while she struggled. "Come here," I said, struggling to my feet, trying to dry myself. I pulled her up and pulled her into the bedroom and when I pushed her on the bed I lay down, snuggled into her, pushing my face between her legs.

I was in no hurry now, I was where I wanted to be. I wanted to smell her, taste her and when she exploded this time, I wanted to feel her juices flood against my face, my lips, into my mouth. I wanted to possess this woman, own her. I wanted her to be mine.

And I wanted to be hers. I wanted her to want to taste me, to suck on me, I wanted her to want to put her tongue in me, I wanted to feel her breath in me, her moans in me. But I didn't want to force it on her, I didn't want to force me on her. So I waited, with my pussy inches from her face, hoping.

It started with a simple kiss. She leaned forward pecked me on my pussy then escaped backwards. I nuzzled my face further into her and waited, hoping she would take my hint. But she didn't, not for the longest time, but then she came again, lightly kissing again, but this time she didn't pull away, this time she left her face on me, kissing gently and as I pushed at her more forcefully, so she pushed at me.