Lloyd's Angel Ch. 15

Lloyd's Angel: Unintended Consequences

November 2008

Wednesday morning found me feeling about as crappy as I'd feared, and far less than what I deserved. I splashed some coffee in my aspirin and slowly dressed for work while I waited for them to take effect. After buttoning my cuffs, I looked for a long moment at the Rolex sitting on the nightstand.

Everything Angela had said to me last night was true, but I couldn't wear it. It wasn't that it was out of character for my outfit, which it was, but that I felt I didn't deserve it. After what I'd done to her last night, I couldn't wear it, and I couldn't return it without insulting her.

After a little more thought, I pulled down the lockbox from the shelf in my closet and unlocked it. I opened the velvet-lined jewelry box inside and just looked, feeling tears well up inside me. Alexandra's wedding band and engagement ring were dwarfed by the ring she'd gotten from Jonathan and almost thrown away, but for some reason, she'd never gotten rid of it. I added the Rolex to the collection, and a minute later, my wedding ring. Dead or not, she'd never have forgiven me for what I'd done to Angela; I was no longer worthy to wear it, either.

Work was stressful for the first time, ever. Angela was there, right on time, looking normal. We greeted each other, checked the turnover from the previous evening's shift, and started out on our rounds. Nothing was wrong, but -- nothing was right. The easy banter I'd enjoyed was gone. Our conversation was stilted, and every so often I'd dart a furtive glance in Angela's direction, only to catch her doing the same thing.

By the time the day ended, I felt so heartsick that anything would be better than another repeat -- even coming clean and apologizing to her. I called Home Run and told them I had something to deal with, then put on my heavy coat and drove down to the university.

It felt like driving backwards in time, except there was permit parking and parking decks to deal with, and the Evans building where Alexandra's office had been was gone, replaced with the new student union. Heavy-hearted, I trudged over to the Newcomb building, where the business classes mostly were, and tracked down Angela's classroom.

The only problem was, she wasn't in it. I asked a few students, with no useful results, and ended up stumped. Where had she gone? I belatedly thought about calling Angela's cell phone, but the number was written down on some scrap of paper back in my apartment.

I discovered my feet, operating on autopilot, had brought me to Nino's. It wasn't called that anymore, of course; in fact, not much beyond the foundation looked the same. Having absolutely no better ideas, I pushed through the door and went inside.

The place was loud and crass and lowbrow, which probably was what Mr. Wagner would have said about Nino's if he'd ever visited it. They could have been playing satanic acid rock for all I cared, because the first thing I saw was Angela dancing on one of the tables.

Actually, she was wobbling on one of the tables, wearing some denim miniskirt I'd never seen before that was way too short for the weather, and one low-heeled sandal. The other shoe was probably with her top, assuming she'd worn one over the bra that was all she had on now.

"Fuck me!" she challenged the circle of onlookers, at least some of whom looked like they were willing to take a chance on her. The guy behind the bar was talking on the phone; I doubted he was calling the producers of "Girls Gone Wild."

"Jesus, Angela!" I shouted, rushing over. "Have you lost it completely?" My anger was fueled by the fear that she had, and that I was responsible for it.

"I'm a fucking slut, and there's nobody here who's man enough for me," Angela slurred, and I realized she was drunk. "Except you, M-Boss," she amended, pointing.

Every eye in the place focused on me, which was a little discomforting. So was my erection, although it was safely hidden beneath my coat. "Come on down, Angela. I think you've had enough to drink. Let's go home now, okay?"

"Are you kidding?" she shouted. "These drinks taste like piss!" Angela hurled a mostly empty glass to the floor, where it shattered. "I need spunk, sperm, jizz, cum, mancream, joyjuice, nutbutter ..." Her voice trailed off for a moment, and then she started up again. "I'm so fucking sexed-up and I can't even cum! I've been trying for hours!" She rubbed herself a few times, revealing she wasn't wearing panties and riveting the attention of the guys around me.

Heaven help me if my back gave out, but I sensed I was running out of time. I stepped up to the table, using my gravitas to part the crowd around me, grabbed Angela by the legs, and let her flop over my shoulder in a fireman's carry. I headed for where I hoped the bathrooms still were, pausing only briefly to accept a backpack from a wide-eyed coed in the crowd. Everybody I passed must have gotten a hell of a beaver shot, but it looked like Angela had been giving those away already.

I elbowed my way into the men's room, finding it thankfully unoccupied, and stood Angela up against the wall. I could feel my spine pop, but I could worry about that later. "What are you doing?" I asked again, dumping the pack on the floor.

Angela ignored my question, concentrating on unzipping my fly. She looked up triumphantly after finding my hard-on. "Oh, God, yes!" she crowed, and pulled her skirt up to her waist.

Miraculously, it looked like she'd avoided the attentions of the boys, although I'd never seen a woman looking so turned-on. After knowing Susan, among others, that was saying quite a lot. Situation aside, I couldn't think of a woman I wanted more, either.

I let Angela pull me into her, and we started an urgent stand-up fuck right there in the corner. Naturally, I heard the feared heavy footsteps outside the door almost immediately after we got started.

Letting Angela worry about us, I cast my mind behind me, located the two minds just outside the door, and started pushing -- with all the measured consideration I could muster -- nothing interesting to see here at both of them. My concentration wasn't helped by having Angela start kissing me between thrusts.

The two university cops ambled into the bathroom and surveyed it calmly, not obviously reacting to the sight of the May-December couple fucking their brains out beside the urinals. I was just praying for them to leave, but their presence seemed to energize Angela even more.

It looked like I was going to get my wish, but one of them called out, "hey, wait up!" just as the other was preparing to open the door.

I started thinking about whether I could trade on our membership in the larger security fraternity, when the first guy stepped up to the second urinal and unzipped himself. The two of us gaped at him, and then each other, as he started peeing while his partner waited by the door. Angela tried to stifle a giggle, with mixed success.

The guy casually looked in our direction and commented, "Cold enough to freeze your dick off out there."

Angela laughed out loud, and I mumbled something incoherent when she started doing things with her superheated body that had me feeling anything but cold.

It was enough to overcome my sense of our audience, and we again jerked into simultaneous climaxes. I muffled Angela's mouth with mine, preventing an outburst that might shatter my flimsy veil, but the fire in her eye was, well, orgasmic.

"Have a good one," the campus cops told me -- or us -- as they left.

"Depend-" Angela started, before I kissed her again.

A huge weight left me when the door closed and we were alone again. I stepped back, feeling a little wobbly myself.

"Oh God, I needed that," laughed Angela, before casting a feral eye on my fading penis. "Let's go again!" She looked distinctly disappointed when I tucked it away and zipped up. A finger absently swiped up a trickle of semen and transferred it to her mouth.

We looked at each other, totally attracted and on totally different wavelengths. I'd barely recovered from the previous evening, and it looked like there was no way I was going to keep up with her. What the hell was I going to do with a raging nymphomaniac about a third of my age?

Even as I asked myself the question, I realized I knew the answer.

Danny raised an eyebrow when he saw me. "Lloyd, I thought you were going to be out tonight with a problem."

Angela pushed past the pair of us, entranced by the dancer atop the stage.

"Well, now I'm here with a problem," I observed a bit sourly.

We turned to watch Angela's progress. She'd made it to the base of the stage, only to be confronted by one of Danny's goons stationed there specifically to keep unwanted guests from mingling with the performers. A tiny nod from Danny kept him in his place; Angela passed by with a salacious caress and quickly gained the platform.

"Who wants to fuck me?" she shouted at the top of her voice.

I winced and reflexively looked around for police or other unfriendly types; luckily, none seemed to be present.

Danny, always an acute judge of these things, chuckled quietly. "Not exactly the sort you and Alexandra used to bring me, Lloyd." He laid a quieting hand on my shoulder. "A little rough, but she's an angel, I think."

"She'll need a standard contract," I told him quickly. "And a wardrobe allowance, and a driver." Danny started to open his mouth. "Just for coming in and going home; I'll talk to Jeff about it."

His eyebrow had climbed again. "Anything else I should know?" he asked, his voice tinged with humor.

"Don't let anything happen to her," I told him flatly.

Both of Danny's eyebrows climbed into his hairline before his natural poise reasserted itself. "With both of us looking out for her, what can go wrong?"

I rolled my eyes and hefted the backpack. "I'll be in my office."

Chin was still as inane as he'd been when Lloyd, Jr. had taken him for some undergrad course. I sighed, set aside the lecture notes, and looked at the clock; it was after midnight. I hadn't been able to face going out to see what was happening, and the contents of the backpack had been my only defense against boredom.

She burst into the office, covered in more spunk than I'd ever seen on one person. "I want to fuck more!" she shouted exuberantly at me.

She bore so little resemblance to the woman I'd worked with all summer. "You like it here?" I asked sadly.

"Oh yes," she said, and then came closer so she could kneel at my feet. "I imagine every one of them is you," she whispered, pressing her forehead against my hand.

Strangely, it really did make me feel better. What had Danny said? "My sexy Angel," I smiled. "You may return every evening if it pleases you."

Angel looked at me anxiously. "Will you be here?"

"Yes," I answered simply. We both smiled at each other.