Lloyd's Angel Ch. 13


"Where's your bed?" I asked, finally, and watched Angela's eyes light up.

She nearly danced across the room, walking on tip-toe, and I followed behind, watching the flex and sway of her tight ass. "Have you ever had anal sex?" I wondered.

"Oh, no," Angela replied, turning to glance over her shoulder at me. She didn't look disgusted or scared; she sounded excited. "You'll be my first," she husked, echoing my thoughts. With an air of unconcern, she added, "Will it hurt?"

"It shouldn't," I reassured her -- or myself -- as we entered the bedroom. "Do you have some Vaseline or some other lubricant?"

Angela nodded eagerly. "I'll be right back!"

I looked around the bedroom after she left. Stacks of textbooks sat on a small desk, along with other (relatively) untidy debris from school. The bed was occupied by a doll wearing a presumably home-made camouflage uniform, and a teddy bear; I moved them to the floor, telling myself there was no point in half measures or remorse at this late date.

With a short sigh, I closed my eyes and focused inward. It was a little disorienting, but I looked at my own mind. From my vantage, the tangles were more complex and clearer than those of other people, if equally impenetrable. The difference was that, stroking ever so lightly here and there, I could feel the feedback of insubstantial phantom fingers walking across the outside and inside of my body.

Finally, it felt like I'd found the right place and I pressed. The result was pretty much like blowing into an inflation valve attached to my cock; it obediently rose and hardened, while my vision greyed and I reeled slightly. I'd regret it in the morning, but I had a lot of things to regret already, and one more wouldn't matter that much. When I opened my eyes, Angela was standing in the doorway, a jar of Vaseline in her hand and an expression of delight on her face.

There were a couple ways to do this, but I chose the one that pleased me best. "Good girl! Work some of that up into your ass, and loosen yourself up a little. Feel free to touch yourself, too. Show off."

Angela popped the cap off the Vaseline and dipped a finger into it. She turned so was facing somewhat away from me, but could still watch my reaction. I watched with excited interest as she reached carefully between her buns and touched the rosebud of her virgin ass. There was a brief moment of hesitation, and then her arm twitched and a look of introspection appeared on her face.

I leaned back against the pillows on the bed, resting my back. I was tempted to touch myself, but it seemed better to hold off -- I didn't know what I really had left in the tank at that point. I did know I wasn't going to waste myself on my hand, when I had Angela.

Her hand reappeared, and she coated a second finger. "I want you," Angela complained, although she was working both fingers into her back door at the same time. She set down the Vaseline and began using the other hand to touch herself in front. "I am so fucking wet for you, I can't believe it!" Angela's hips rocked slightly in rhythm with her probing fingers, and a look of frustrated desire crept onto her face. "Oh please, I don't care if I'm ready or not!" Her nipples looked like rocks and moisture beaded on her inner thighs.

"On the bed, then; kneel!" I decided, and she scurried to comply. I stood and moved behind her; when I grasped her waist, Angela jumped but immediately arched her back, presenting herself for me. I inserted myself briefly in her dripping slit, freshening the coating on my rod, and then withdrew and aimed higher.

"Oooooooh!" exclaimed Angela, as I slowly pressed myself into her. "Oh, fuck, yes!"

She was damn tight, but her body offered only momentary resistance while I went deeper. Soon I was buried in her chute all the way to my pubes, the first man to be there. Like the rest of her, Angela's ass was all mine.

It was a heady thought, and I started pumping her. I slapped her ass, leaving a red mark, not because she deserved it, or because I was really into that sort of thing, but because I could. "Are you a slut? Are you my slut?" I demanded.

"Always!" Angela gasped excitedly. "I'll always be your slut! Use me however you want!" She forced our pace, repeatedly impaling herself on my rod so forcefully I found myself hanging onto her waist just to maintain my balance. "Oh, please, fuck me forever!"

It was everything I'd fantasized about, and so was she, and I came again. Actually, I was only firing blanks by then, so the release was pretty modest for me. Angela screamed and bucked like a bronco, nearly collapsing on the bed and taking me with her.

I let her fall off my cock, and concentrated on maintaining my balance.

"Do you want me to clean your cock?" Angela asked, looking at my frankly less-than-pristine penis. She looked a little worn around the edges to me, and I didn't need to watch her licking her shit from my rod.

"No," I declined, softening the refusal with a smile. "I'll handle it. Just relax for a few minutes, okay?"

She slumped back on the bed while I went in search of the bathroom. When I returned a few minutes later, once again sanitary, I found Angela sound asleep, still naked atop the covers.

Smiling, I reached down and brushed the hair away from her face; she stirred slightly without waking. Heaving a sigh, I sat on the bed beside her and looked again. The strands of her mind roiled like nothing I'd ever seen, crusted with the impenetrable signs of my tampering nearly everywhere I looked.

What a damn fool I'd been. I asked myself morosely if the evening had been worth the rest of a girl's life. Of course, the decision had been made -- or not -- in the first few seconds after I'd lost control, but it still seemed like a Faustian bargain. Never mind that the end of my years of celibacy had removed a tension from my body that I hadn't even realized existed.

Once again, I'd seemingly left myself with no option but to pick up the pieces and see what I could patch together of another innocent victim's life. "Damnit, Lloyd," I hissed in frustration, and got up to fetch a damp washcloth.

I dressed myself, cleaned up Angela as best I could, and took care of the dirty dishes and cold coffee. After throwing her clothes in the hamper I found, I dithered before leaving Angela as I'd found her. A last look showed her clutching the bear tightly in her sleep, and the doll lying where it had fallen back onto the floor.

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