Touching Angel's Desires

by Holly J. Gill

  She moved off him and stared down on his body. His cock was hard and she was tempted to just jump on board, but not yet. She enjoyed stretching it out, and not only that, she mustn’t forget she was putting on a show for her bloody Ladyship sitting over there with a cat’s-arse mouth. Instead, Angel knee-walked down the bed, halting at Greg’s hips. She leaned over and took hold of his cock. It leapt at her touch and he groaned under the hood. The tip was slick with pre-cum and she ran her thumb over the purple bulb. His hips bucked and he thrust into her hand. She should really punish him for that, she thought idly, but suddenly couldn’t be bothered. She leaned over and slid her lips down his shaft. She gave a mental smile. She had a surprise for him. She kept going, taking the long dick all the way down till her lips hit his balls, hearing him gasp in surprise, then moan with pleasure, thrusting down her throat. Men really loved that lack of a gag reflex. Angel slid her lips back up slowly, flickering her tongue all the way, before letting the tip out with an audible pop. She licked the tip of his dick, tasting his pre-cum. She glanced over at Gillian, who was glaring at her. Angel wondered if Gillian would have let her suck her husband’s cock if she knew she could deep-throat him.

  She twirled her tongue around the tip, then took him back in again, squeezing his balls at the same time. Again he let out a little whinny of pleasure.

  Not letting go of his cock, she lifted her leg and pivoted on the other knee, ending up straddling his chest. She inched back so her pussy was placed at his mouth. She released his cock just long enough to order, “Eat my pussy,” although no encouragement was needed. His tongue was already lapping at her soaking wet pussy, swallowing her tangy juices. She dove once more on his cock, sucking hungrily, almost losing her concentration at the feel of his tongue on her cunt. He was bucking wildly under her now, thrusting his cock down her welcoming throat. She ground her pussy onto his mouth, his rapidly moving tongue feeling like a car wash, cleaning every trace of arousal, although the faster he lapped it up, the more she produced.

  Angel could feel that tightening of Greg’s body that indicated an approaching climax. Swiftly she pulled her lips off his dick, hoping she wasn't too late.

  She climbed off him, debating for a second whether to go cowgirl or reverse cowgirl. Reverse cowgirl, she decided, that way she reinforced the feeling that she was just using his dick to pleasure herself with, and Gillian would also get a full view of her fucking her husband.

  She stood up by the side of the bed and unzipped her PVC dress, slipping it off her shoulders and into the floor, showing off her body for the first time in its glorious voluptuousness. She sat on the edge of the bed and removed her boots next, leaving on her fishnets. She took a sneaky glance at Gillian, who was looking at her, her face unreadable. Was she jealous that Angel had a better body than she? Or was she turned on by her?

  She got back onto the bed, snagging a condom from the drawer on the way, and straddled Greg once more, facing his white bony feet, and positioning herself so his dick rose tall in front of her smooth pussy. She took hold of it, running her fingers up and down its wet length before ripping open the condom and smoothing it on. She lifted her hips, supporting her body weight with one hand, then rubbed the head of Greg’s dick over her cunt, stimulating her clit with its soft firmness, then wetting it with her cream. Then, in one long delicious plunge, she impaled herself upon him, finally feeling that long cock inside her, filling her. Behind her, she heard him grunt. She lifted her body up again, and lunged back down on him once more, squeezing her inner muscles to stimulate him further. He cried out. Angel ground herself down on his cock, leaning back, feeling his cock press against her tissues. She reached down and cupped his balls, gently here, massaging the soft pebbles as she rode him hard.

  “Come on, fuck me,” she demanded, as he lunged his body off the bed stabbing into her as she thrust herself on him.

  Greg was helpless, hands tied, eyes covered. The only thing he could use was his cock, and that only with her permission. She was totally in control. This was Angel at her best, and she loved it. She took his cock deep in her pussy, moving rapidly up and down, while he attempted to move his body, wanting to please her. She sank his cock deep into heaven—he moaned. Angel closed her eyes, wanting to take him harder and faster. Was it too soon for her to orgasm? How long did she have to stretch this out for? She put her fingers down to her clit, feeling it would take very little for her to come. She started to slap her clit gently and rapidly, feeling the vibrations start to send her over the edge. She threw her head back losing herself in the feelings.

  “Okay, that’s enough. Can you leave the room, please?” Angel heard from Gillian.

  Angel stopped, stunned. She opened her eyes and stared at Gillian, hardly able to believe what she heard. Angel could tell by her expression Gillian meant exactly what she had just ordered her to do.

  “Are you serious?” she asked.

  “Yes, get off my husband,” she said abruptly. Angel bit her tongue. The customer was always right, she reminded herself.

  Angel did as ordered and climbed off Greg. She sat on the edge of the bed and pushed her feet into her boots, then quickly zipped up her dress again. Gillian said not a word.

  Angel grabbed her favourite whip—they weren’t going to get to play with that while she wasn’t there—left the room and stood in the corridor, staring at the door. What had she done wrong? Why had Gillian stopped the entertainment mid-flow? Not only that, she was still horny—her juices still dripped down her legs. She could hear nothing from within the room, even when she put her ear to the keyhole. The thought that Gillian might open the door and find her still there, sent her stomping down the corridor to the top of the stairs.

  She looked down at the reception area, which was teeming with guests. She really wasn’t in the mood to stop and chat, but there was no other way downstairs, unless she wanted to go all the way round the other side of the building, down the stairs there, and back again. Her blood pumped fast around her body and she tightened her fists, wishing she could just go back and punch bloody Gillian bloody Matthews in the face. Well, she couldn’t just stand here. She made her way down the staircase, her step brisk and business-like, brushing past people and giving only very brief replies to those who greeted her. Away from the throng, she headed to her office. She flung open the door, almost ran inside, and slammed the door behind her, leaning back against the old oak door of the calm, dark room.

  Chapter Three

  “Angel?” The voice coming from the other side of the door sounded like Shannon

  “What?” she screamed, unzipping her dress and tossing it through the open door of the bedroom. She pulled off her boots and flung them against the wall. They fell to the floor, leaving a black mark on the cream wallpaper. She peeled off the hold-ups, struggling to stand upright while removing them and launched them at the bin, missing. They lay in a crumpled heap on the carpet. Nothing assuaged her anger.

  “Angel?” she heard again. This had better be important. She stalked into the bedroom and grabbed a light robe from the back of the door. She heard the office door opening as she wrapped it round herself, and Shannon poked her head around the bedroom door.

  “What?” Angel repeated. Shannon entered the room looking concerned and not a little fearful.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Does it bloody well look like it?” Angel said, staring at Shannon. “She is a complete fucking bitch and I swear to God, if I see her again, this mouth will be running out of control. I have never in my life experienced such a stuck-up bitch like her. ‘Oooh, I get everything I request,’” Angel said in mimicry. “Well I can tell you now she isn’t getting any more special treatment from me, you, or the bloody rat that is running around in the dungeon. She has just about blown everything.”

  “What happened?” Shannon asked, her voice calming. Angel wasn't in the mood to be calmed. She wanted to wallow in her fury. She ignored Shannon and stormed into the bathroom. She jumped in the sh
ower and began to scrub herself hard, determined to remove every trace of his scum from her body.

  A few minutes later, clean and a tiny bit less furious, Angel re-entered the bedroom where Shannon still stood, looking concerned.

  “I’m fine,” Angel said. “I just need a bloody good stiff drink, which I am going to get right now. I gather everything was okay, while I was completely wasting my time and effort?”

  “Yes, nothing to report.”

  “Wonderful,” she replied, heavy on the sarcasm. She watched Shannon bite her lip and felt a little guilty. It was hardly her fault. She didn’t deserve to be the butt of Angel’s ire. “Sorry, Shannon. I’m sure you’ve done a great job. I’ll be okay. You go on back to reception.”

  Shannon nodded and gave her a hint of a smile before leaving.

  Angel put on some high waist trousers, a teal shirt and black boots. She completely cleaned and redid her face. On went her smoky eye colour, eyeliner, and thick, black mascara teamed this time with a dark maroon shade of lipstick. She brushed her hair again and made her way to the bar, desperate for a good stiff drink.

  She arrived at the bar. The barman came over instantly.

  “Double vodka and coke,” she snapped, drumming her fingers on the bar while he made it. She took the whole lot down in one mouthful, and slammed the glass back on the bar top. The barman took the glass and raised his eyebrows in query. “Another!” she ground out.

  He poured another stiff shot. She gulped the drink down, then took a long deep breath before placing the glass down more gently this time. She closed her eyes, feeling the alcohol quickly spreading through her bloodstream. She debated a third, but three doubles in the space of five minutes was a bit much, even for her.

  Instead, she left the restaurant, quickly striding down the corridor, so much anger still raging around her body. Maybe she should take up boxing or something. Fists clenching with frustrated rage, she headed back to the reception area. Shannon instantly saw her and rose to her feet, an anxious look on her face.

  “I have had a complaint…from Gillian,” she told Angel.

  “What?” Angel almost screamed.

  “She…she said that apparently she asked you to leave the room, not to disappear totally.” Shannon’s voice almost disappeared as she imparted this last tidbit.

  “I beg your pardon? She never mentioned I was to stand around and wait for her,” Angel bit out.

  “Well, that was what you were meant to do,” Shannon said, looking terrified.

  “So, can I read fucking minds now? Get the bitch to my office immediately.” Angel stormed to her office, boiling with rage. She slammed the door. Anger consumed her body, and she let out a wild impotent sound of fury. She paced up and down the floor longing to scream, hit something, do something with the aggression circulating around her body. She looked around for something to throw. She picked up one of the figurines from the shelf, but her common sense over-ruled and reminded her that it was one of her favourite pieces. She placed it carefully back and put her hands to her face, taking deep breaths, trying to calm herself down.

  Somehow she had to handle the situation professionally. That was easier said than done. She might have had problems in the past, but none that had actually involved her personally. Especially when she knew she had put on a good show. Gillian had never mentioned she wanted her to wait. She’d stopped Angel mid-show, frustrating enough in itself, and now she had the gall to complain. Why the hell didn’t she just ask her to wait in the room? That wouldn’t have bothered her in the slightest. Or have the courtesy to tell her at the beginning what she’d had in mind.

  A knock came at the door. Angel grabbed a bottle of water, and took a gulp. How should she handle the woman? Back down again to keep her custom, or tell her what she really wanted to tell her? She sat behind her desk, feigning a calmness she did not feel.

  “Come in,” she called out, opening her laptop as she did so.

  The door opened. Gillian stalked in, and stood tall, halfway between the door and the desk. Angel pretended to type at her laptop, not looking up, although she watched Gillian out of the corner of her eye.

  She kept the woman waiting for a few seconds before she finally looked up.

  “Ah, Gillian,” she said. “Please, close the door.” She watched gleefully as the woman scowled before turning back and closing the office door. She wiped the smile off her face and put on a concerned look as Gillian came back and stood before her desk. “I believe that you have a complaint to make.”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “May I ask why?” Angel asked, maintaining the polite façade, although inside she wanted to kick Gillian’s smug face in and physically throw her out the damn building.

  “Well, firstly, I never asked you to wander off. I found that extremely rude,” Gillian said, fisting her hands on her hips.

  “I’m terribly sorry, I must have misunderstood. You asked me to leave the room. I don’t recall you asking me to wait,” Angel reminded her.

  “Well, I meant for you to wait outside, not go wandering around the building.”

  “I’m really not sure how I could have been expected to know that, Mrs. Matthews.”

  “I would have thought it would have been obvious.”

  “Evidently, it wasn’t. I thought you had changed your mind, and decided to have him for yourself. I was given the impression you wanted a threesome.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  “Perhaps next time you would like to share that fact, Mrs. Matthews. The workers here at Desires are not telepathic, we need instructions, and we need to know your exact needs. I am not surprised that there are so many complaints from you, as you tell them one thing and then change your mind and expect them to understand you without you telling them. I am no longer going to apologize for myself or my workers as I understand exactly what your game is. You have the audacity to come in here, complain, get a freebie in apology, and still complain about it. Well, this time you have messed up. I have cottoned on to your game. You made a mistake picking me to be your next victim,” Angel said, glaring into Gillian’s suddenly uncertain eyes.

  “That’s not what’s going on,” she blustered, her face belying her words. Angel was pretty certain she had pegged Gillian exactly right.

  “Well, sweetheart, I don’t believe you. As manager of Desires, I want you and Mr. Matthews off the premises immediately. Your contract is hereby terminated.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Watch me.” Angel went to the office door to open it.

  “I pay good money for the services here,” Gillian said, turning to look at Angel, but not moving from her position in front of the desk.

  “Yes, you did. And you got good service in return. You don’t any more. Get out.”

  Her mouth working in fury, Gillian marched past Angel. Angel followed her and watched her go upstairs to get her husband.

  “Bailey, can you quickly find a copy of Mr. and Mrs. Matthews’ contract, please.”

  Bailey did as she was asked, her face aglow with curiosity. They waited a few minutes, shortly seeing them descend the staircase, their faces a matching shade of scarlet. “Do we know these people?” Angel asked the girls on reception as they reached the bottom.

  “No,” they both replied.

  “Shred their contract, Bailey.”

  “We have our rights! You can’t do this,” Gillian blustered. “You haven’t heard the last of this. I have paid good money for this place.”

  “Are you sure? Bailey? Do you have a file for these people?”

  “I’m terribly sorry,” said Bailey, “I don’t appear to be able to find one.” She smiled sweetly at the choleric couple.

  “You just deleted it on purpose, you little bitch,” snarled Gillian. “I’ll have you for this. I know people!”

  “Oh dear,” Angel said. “I’m afraid I can’t allow my staff to be verbally abused in that fashion.” She stared into Gillian’s furious eyes. “Oh, and just in ca
se you decided to kick up a fuss, I have kept the confidentiality agreement, which both you and your delightful husband signed. I do believe you are both well-known in the public eye. I’d hate to see any harm come to you through your own indiscretions,” Angel said. Gillian gulped heavily.

  Angel allowed herself to feel a little smug, delighted with her success. She had to protect Desires, her life, her business. She had the right to refuse anyone admittance. And she didn’t like being threatened. She had enough information in her office, both hard copy and on computer, to ruin, or at least badly embarrass, a very large number of influential people all over the country. Celebrities, politicians, respected head-teachers, judges, all used her club. These two were small fry. She could hurt them far more than they could hurt her.

  “Get off these premises, before I call security,” she told them abruptly. Faces dark with wrath, both started making their way to the main door, pulling their overnight cases behind them.

  Angel watched the couple exit the building, slamming the door behind them. She turned back, smiling at her girls. At least no one else would have to suffer the torture of Gillian Matthews. She felt more sorry for Greg, having to cope with her, but then, it was his choice to be humiliated alongside his wife. If he didn’t like her, he could always leave. Finally, the complaints had come to an end. It was time to celebrate.

  “Well done girls,” she told Shannon and Bailey. “I shall be back soon.”

  She left the reception area and went down to the bar. On the way she saw a couple having an argument with one of her tutors in the middle of the corridor. Angel headed over—they were disturbing others who were trying to enjoy themselves.

  “What is going on here?” she asked politely. Carl, the tutor, looked annoyed.