Just Another Lost Angel

Prologue

Even after all these years, she didn't really know what she was or why she did the things she did. She was like a programmed machine -- programmed to do one thing, and she did it damned well. She knew there were others out there like her, but she had never met them. At least not in a conscious state.

Legend had it that succubae and incubi came to people in their dreams. For her it was the opposite. She came to people in real life. It was in her dreams that she and her kind met each other, getting flashes of each other's pleasure. Vivid, all-encompassing visions that did not fade on awakening, but stayed in the mind, ensuring that the act of waking was usually accompanied by some solo or mutual pleasure.

She had almost lost count of how many personas she'd had. She had been Brooke Landry now for over almost twenty-five years and it had been one of the most enjoyable times she could remember. From those heady college days in San Diego to her current gentle, small-town life in the English countryside. She was a respectable, beautiful, mid-forties American woman with a fictional early life. And as with every life she had lived, the reality was almost more incredible than the fiction.

This was the eighth town in which she had lived since arriving in England. She had left her mark on all the others and intended to do so here. Once-repressed women and men had been liberated and now lived sexually fulfilling lives, with only a vague memory of the mysterious woman who had once been in their midst and changed them forever.

It was a conscious decision to live a quieter life. The Twentieth Century had mainly been a turbulent and violent time - as had many eras in her lives. Some of her lives had come to an end naturally and quietly. Others had ended suddenly, a few quite dramatically.

Her time as Annie, a flapper girl in 1920's New York had been exhilarating - the sheer excitement of Prohibition, the bootleggers and the Speakeasys. The thrill of life on the edge of the gang culture that grew up around it all. Then the sudden end, as she and another girl worked on a prominent gang leader and their loving labours were curtailed; not as expected in a hail of his usually explosive largesse, but in a hail of machine-gun fire.

Her incarnation as a Keiko the Geisha in pre-war Nagasaki was also an exciting time, but the terrible, abrupt way that hers and so many other lives had ended there still meant that on occasions, her dreams were not so sweet. She had forced herself to revisit the city early into her time as Brooke, but the catharsis she had hoped for did not materialise.

Her favourite time of the Twentieth Century had been the Sixties. Those heady years in San Francisco and Los Angeles; the drugs, the sex, the music. She had started by playing folk songs in local bars and graduated to playing flute and singing in a fledgling psychedelic band. There were the gigs at the Whisky and the Troubadour; the nights of sheer bliss as she became a well-known and sought-after Groupie. She had chosen an exotic name to match the times and the list of Juniper Rimbeau's conquests read like a Who's Who -- a veritable Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. She still felt a thrill when she heard the music today, usually accompanied by a frisson of sadness. Especially the songs that she knew were written for her - her own little secrets from a time that for her surpassed all others but ended all too soon.

It was always the bracelet that gave the game away. Usually it lasted for thirty, forty years before the crystal began to dim. Sometimes it lasted a mere five years. There was a direct correlation to how hard she lived -- she had no control over it.

In 1971 when, after only six years, the crystal began to dim, she was distraught. She had partied and had just as full a sex life on many occasions before. In the end she put it down to the drugs and vowed never again. It was coming to an end far too soon. Then she realised that so too was the era in which she was living. It was burning itself out as fast as she was. She thought of fading away with it, then decided on one last, dramatic gesture to put a full stop on it.

She was twenty-seven. Given the great friends she had lost at that same age, it seemed appropriate. She had smoked the stuff before but never injected it. She didn't know what a safe amount was, but she certainly knew what constituted an overdose. It was only the second time she had ever taken her own life.

When it ended violently or suddenly, it took a long time for her to be reborn. She was never in control of who she would be or where she would reappear as she would if it were a natural transition.

Other than her first life, she always came into the world fully-fledged; usually in her late teens or early twenties. The first time was for real -- she was born as a mewling, puking infant into the cold, hard world of the steppes of Russia sometime before what is now known as the Common Era. She had a hard childhood, but it was her only one.

Way back then, it had been easy -- no documents required, just a new girl in a new town ready to take the place by storm. For centuries she had relied on her quick wits and her innate gift, but over the last few hundred years she'd had to become an expert forger and now she had to be an accomplished computer hacker as well.

Back in the mid-1990's, Brooke's latest life had taken her a few days to create, but the skills to do it were natural to her. The new persona, as all her others had been, was flawless - from her official documentation to her back-story.

She had decided on a quiet period after a time of fast living in Monaco and the south of France in the 80's and 90's. That had been one of her rare times living as a male, and it had felt strange at first but she had soon come to terms with it and embraced the lifestyle with gusto. Jean-Claude was a fine specimen and much in demand on the international party-scene. His prowess had led to offers of movie work and Brooke still never tired of watching her former self in action.

When the crystal began to dim in 1996, she had been in control of that transition and had chosen her new look and location carefully. She wanted a gentler time away from the music and porn scenes and hopefully from the violent ends she seemed to have met all too regularly for over a century. She became a fun-loving college girl in San Diego with a back-story of early life in Vermont. The memories came fully created and she could picture her childhood and adolescence in New England with crystal clarity; the loss of her virginity to Mason Oliver by the lakeside at sixteen, the nights in the barn with Patty Cummins and Jodie O'Keefe as they explored each other.

And of course there was the thing with her teacher, Mr. Owens. Sometimes, no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't restrain herself and had to add in something just a little bit naughty - just for the sheer hell of it.

All those memories were real and precious to her, just as every other persona had memories to cherish.

She had hoped that her current persona would last a long time. She was content and she had made a lot of ordinary people very happy indeed. No stardom, no glitz or glamour -- just a beautiful woman using her sexuality to bring a little happiness into the lives of others. Probably no different to what she had been doing since time immemorial, but on a smaller scale.

She was loving life. Her collection of Jean-Claude's movies was almost complete, the songs from the Sixties written about her a reminder of more turbulent times.

She was in a new town and she loved the peace and tranquillity of it. She had a new project in progress -- the girl she had in mind was utterly gorgeous and she was desperate to make out with her. She knew that with her skills it was only a matter of time. And there were a few other characters where the girl worked that would be perfect to bring into the little scenario she had planned.

It was going to be so much fun. As she lay back and worked out the finer details of the storyboard in her head, she poured herself a glass of Merlot and put on one of Jean-Claude's orgy scenes. There were a few toys on the bed for a little later.

Smiling she glanced at her watch and her heart almost stopped.

The crystal on her bracelet had begun to dim. Only twenty-five years? Something was wrong -- it was way too early this time, no doubt.

It looked like the scenario she had mapped out was going to be Brooke Landry's swansong. She was going to have to be quick.

One

Becky hated doing the overnight shift as it played havoc with her personal life. It was boring and often the mercifully few customers were drunk and leery. At least it was only for a few nights during the college holidays and she'd soon be back to normal.

No, working in a supermarket was hardly her dream job, but being a Vet certainly was, and she was well into her second year at a local Veterinary College and loving every minute of it. Well into her third nightshift that week, she wasn't loving that at all, and when a text message came in at two o'clock in the morning, she knew who it was going to be from and braced herself, wondering what it was going to be this time.

She served one of the night-owls and thanked goodness it was quiet as she tapped at her phone under the counter. If it was like the message she had received the previous night, it was best that no-one else saw it.

Sure enough, she found herself staring at a pretty face, eyes screwed tightly shut, mouth open in a perfect 'O'. Her tongue stud was visible and Becky wished the girl it belonged to was working on her somewhere down below the counter. But that tongue stud was a long way away, somewhere on the outskirts of Barcelona with the rest of its owner.

She didn't need Google Translate to tell her what the caption in Spanish said. My ass is on fire!

She stroked the screen with a long finger, wishing the girl with the side-cut and floppy black hair with the white streak in it was bouncing on her and not some Spanish stud. But she was back home now and by the look of it, having a fine old time.

She tapped out five letters and a smiley and hit send.

Bitch ;o)

Not surprisingly, she didn't hear from her again that night.

At least the midweek shifts were quieter than the weekends, so it gave Becky time to do some night-time daydreaming as she recalled how she had got to the stage where a horny little Spanish girl was sending her intimate selfies while she worked the nightshift. Was it really only four months ago it had all started?

Lucia had moved in with Becky couple of months before it all began, when her flatmate had moved out and she had put a flyer on one of the college noticeboards. They got on well but kept to themselves most of the time. If one of them had someone back, they gave each other room and usually their trysts were merely acknowledged with a shy smile or a little wink.

Becky had thought Lucia was only into guys until one night she had come back from a night out with some friends. The girl was sitting on the sofa in animated conversation with Marcy, a large, rosy-cheeked redheaded girl in the same college year as Becky. Lucia offered her a glass of wine, but she declined as she'd already had a fair bit to drink at the pub quiz and had an early start the next day.

As Becky went to bed, she began to wonder if there may be more to the little scene than met the eye. Ten minutes later, she was in no doubt as Lucia's bedroom door closed and she heard muffled giggles followed by muffled sighs.

Two nights later, she was trying to muffle sighs of her own as she and Damien, one of her regular fuckbuddies, went at it like dogs in heat. They were really up for it and she found herself biting the pillow to stop herself from screaming as he pounded into her. It was a hell of a night and she was still feeling a glow from it the next evening as she sat at the dining room table doing some coursework on her laptop.

Lucia could never be described as subtle, and Becky heard her crashing about in the hall long before the girl popped her head round the living room door. She looked shattered and her normally husky voice sounded exhausted. "Hey Becky, been on a farm visit, so I'm a bit like, yucky, you know? Just going to have a shower."

Ten minutes later she came back in wearing a bathrobe, her normally carefully coiffed black and white 'skunk' hair-do hanging like rat tails. "Fancy a coffee?"

Becky politely declined as drinking coffee late kept her awake. Lucia went into the kitchen and clumped around making her drink. She came back and sank into one of the beaten-up old armchairs and sighed deeply as she took a big gulp. "Feels better. Been a busy day."

Becky knew from hard experience. The farm days were hard work, but great fun. Lucia was barely five feet tall and skinny as a rake. Becky was five feet ten and quite fit having played a bit of women's rugby. The farm days had nearly killed her so she shuddered to think how tiny Lucia felt.

As Becky said something in reply and smiled at her, she could see Lucia was looking at her with a little smile of her own. They held each other's gaze for a long while, Lucia's smile getting wider and wider. Finally, Becky couldn't help herself and laughed. "Come on, spit it out - what is it, Luce?"

She took another drink of coffee. "Oh nothing really - just trying to imagine what that pretty li'l face looked like about this time last night!"

Becky swallowed hard and felt herself begin to redden. "Oops -- sorry Luce -- was it a bit... loud?"

She shrugged. "Kinda. But it sounded like you had a good time and that's all that matters." Grinning, she made the sign of the Cross. "So all is forgiven and forgot!"

Oh God, this was so embarrassing. "Erm, look, I'm really sorry-" Becky never got the chance to finish her apology as Lucia held up a hand.

"Hey, don't apologise. Quite a turn on actually." Her pretty face split into a huge gamine grin. "So what were you doing when he said, 'Oh Becky, that's incredible', huh?"

Becky was utterly mortified as realisation dawned. "Luce! Did you have your fucking ear to the wall or something? He barely whispered that."

The Spanish girl was grinning back at her and let out a husky little laugh. "Might have! It's quite hard leaning against the wall with one hand digging down below!"

Becky hardly knew what to say. "Oh my God, Lucia. You were fucking well listening, weren't you?"

She nodded. "Uh-huh -- and playing with myself. So what was so good, eh? Come on, tell me!"

"No I can't -- bloody hell, Luce this is fucking embarrassing!"

She shrugged again. "You kept me awake fucking your brains out and I've been wondering what you were doing to get that response ever since. Come on Becks, fairs fair, yeah?"

Lucia could be persistent and Becky knew she wasn't going to be let off lightly but didn't quite know how to say the words. "Jesus, ok, ok. Enough already. I... I... Oh fuck, I had my bloody mouth full -- will that do?"

"Oooh, naughty girl. Did he..." Lucia mimed an arc with her finger and pointed to her mouth. Becky was left under no illusions as to what she meant. She was going to refuse to answer but as she laughed to cover her embarrassment, she inadvertently glanced down at her breasts

That certainly gave the game away. "Ooh, I like it on my li'l titties almost as much as on my face too!"

Becky looked at her sternly. "Erm, maybe too much information, Lucia!"

"Wanna see what I was doing?" Before Becky could react, Lucia put down her coffee cup and spread her legs wide. She pulled her robe open and Becky got a perfect view of a shiny, black bush with pretty pink folds within, staring up at her in a vertical smile.

"No, Luce -- it's ok thanks. I think I get the idea!"

Lucia raised one eyebrow. "I heard you -- you can watch me -- only fair." Her voice had taken on an even more husky tone than usual. Despite her reservations, Becky watched in fascination as her tiny hands began to work on herself. She put her legs over the arms of the chair and bit her lip as she plunged her fingers deep inside, her other hand working on her prominent clit. Part of Becky wanted to get up and run to her room, but she felt paralysed. She had watched girls doing this on the internet, but never in real life. It was quite mesmeric watching her face as she stroked and fingered herself and she heard sounds that she had heard herself making - little liquid sounds from her nether regions, small gasps and intakes of breath.

Lucia looked her in the eye. "I love being watched. Come on, you do it too, Rebecca."

Shocked, Becky shook her head. "No Luce, sorry. Look I'm going to my room. This is..." She trailed off as she realised that she was getting very wet down below. She had no intention of going anywhere. "This is... this is... oh fuck, Lucia what the fuck are you doing to me?"

Slowly, Lucia removed her fingers and unhooked her legs from the chair arms. She got up, slipped off her robe and walked over to where Becky sat, transfixed by her actions. She stood for a moment cupping her tiny breasts before holding her hands out to her. Becky took them as if in a dream. Lucia pulled her up and she stood, towering over her at almost a foot taller. Lucia took Becky's left hand and held it against her wet, slippery folds. Pulling gently on her long, blonde pigtail, she forced her to bend towards her. Her tongue flickered across her lips as they came ever closer and her mouth began to open. Becky felt her fingers glide into Lucia's slippery wet crack as she caressed her through her jeans and her tongue now licked along Becky's closed lips. They opened involuntarily and she could taste the coffee Lucia had just drunk as her tongue squirmed into her mouth.

For a moment, Becky was utterly horrified at what she was doing. Then she looked into those dark eyes which were now blazing with lust. She felt the tongue working in her mouth, the slipperiness of her fingers as they wriggled deep inside the girl. She felt the roughness of the short hair of her side-cut beneath her other hand before she smoothed the rest of the girl's damp hair away from her face. She held the small body tight against her own and it just felt so right -- so utterly wonderful. She was so pretty, those tiny titties firm under her hands as they roamed, her nipples hardening as she gently tugged on them. Lucia's hands were on Becky's breasts, larger and fuller than her own cute little bumps, then squeezing her buttocks before beginning to unbutton her shirt.

Becky pulled away from the kiss for a moment, her brief conflict very definitely resolved. "Lucia, whatever the fuck it is you're doing to me - don't fucking stop!"

"I won't, I promise!" The girl took a deep breath, then practically dragged Becky into her bedroom. By the next morning, she was a completely different person.

A few nights later, Becky returned from her weekly pub quiz with the girls to find Lucia on her knees in front of the sofa, her head bobbing. It was obviously a set-up and she had merely glanced up from her work and crooked a finger at her new lover. When the girl was sucking on her as she took the guy in her mouth, Becky was on another planet. It was utterly mind-blowing.

In a few short days, Lucia had changed her life and she thought she would never be able to repay her. Then after a heady few of months, it all came to an end when the girl decided that she was too homesick to continue her course and returned to Spain. Becky was sad, but also so grateful that they'd had a bit of a thing together and had done so much in such a short space of time. She knew they'd be friends for life and was definitely going to pay a visit to Barcelona soon. She had always wanted to see the Sagrada Familia and the other Gaudi wonders, but she now had a little Catalan wonder of her own to add to the mix.