The Angel of Black Friday

by Shawn Keys

  Yukiko’s arms went backward. She rolled her shoulders in a way that sent her business suit jacket sliding down. That fabric joined the skirt on the ground. Then, her hands came up and she started to unbutton the front of her blouse. As her hands flicked each one open, she spoke in a husky whisper. “I bought these things yesterday. I haven’t bought anything like this in years. He was going to see it. His reward for being so patient.”

  She reached the top button, and let the two sides of her blouse fall open, teasing at the sight behind it. Rick saw another flash of purple. She added, “But when I put it on this morning, I looked at myself in the mirror and remembered what it was to feel this sexy again. I was sooo looking forward to seeing his eyes widen. To see the desire on his face. He took that away from me, too. But I still want that. Maybe… you’ll look at me like that?”

  Then she brushed her hands outward, pushing her blouse to either side until it flowed off her shoulders and down her arms. The cuffs caught on her wrists, tangling up her forearms in it. She didn’t try to free them, content to linger here, more than exposed enough for Rick to appreciate her near-naked charm.

  The hint of purple turned out to be what Rick expected: the matching lace-and-satin bra to her panties. Her breasts were like the rest of her, petite but perky, and the bra was doing its best to present them to best effect even if she didn’t need the support. Giving him a chance to appreciate the effect, Yukiko then turned in a casual pirouette, inviting him to see her from all angles. The turn revealed her pert ass hugged by those panties, and let him appreciate the flex of her lean back muscles behind the gentle sway of her long tail of hair. She finished the motion with her legs artfully stacked, one in front of the other as some women were fond of doing, the stance both provocative yet delicate. Her voice still husky with a little nervousness and arousal from the daring act, she asked, “Do you approve?”

  Rick was positive she didn’t have to ask. He wasn’t hiding how his gaze devoured every inch of her, clinging to every curve and appreciating the supple way she moved. He was tragically certain that the words didn’t exist to describe the beauty standing in front of him. He wanted to find them, to whisper the perfect words that would give her the rush of ego that she craved and deserved.

  The flicker of another recent, erotic memory inspired him. Elenia had been speechless too, unable to find the right words to thank him. She’d found a way.

  Emboldened by the strange intimacy of the moment, Rick slid off the bench and onto his knees. He peered up the full length of Yukiko’s svelte form. Unable to find the words, his expression asked the question for him. Do you really want to know what I think?

  As he grew closer, Yukiko’s breathing sped up. The desire she needed to see was written plainly on Rick’s face. Shaking with uncertainty, so recently betrayed by another man, Yukiko took a leap of trust and gave the tiniest, faintest of nods his way. Yes.

  His touch started at her lower legs. Cupping around the firm flesh of her calf muscles, he savored his first touch on those silken stockings. They glided under his fingers as he sampled the flesh beneath. Then, he worked his hands higher, hugging her knee, then caressed along the back of her slender thighs. His hands drifted higher, stopping to palm the exquisite globes of her ass before shifting higher.

  Finally, his questing hands found the blouse wrapped around her wrists. Drawing her hands closer together, he tossed the fabric over and around her forearms, making the binding that much more complete.

  With her arms trapped behind her back, Yukiko’s breath sped up even more into stuttering gasps. She was trembling continuously, and might have collapsed if not for how he softly pressed her up against the wall, his arms curled loosely around her legs. Once the wall took over the job of pinning her arms, Rick’s hands flowed back down over her behind, returning to the job of stroking up and down the sexy length of her incredible legs.

  Unable to resist any longer, Rick leaned his mouth forward and connected with her thigh in a sizzling kiss. Above him, Yukiko let out a moan of encouragement. His tongue brushed up from that point toward her center. His lips closed in another fiery kiss, working inch by inch along her creamy flesh until he found her lingerie.

  He didn’t stop there. Kissing through the satin-lace, he nuzzled into the space between her legs. He kissed with enough pressure that she would feel it on her netherlips through the material. Her legs eased open with unconscious need. Rick took that chance to slide her right thigh up and over his shoulder. Her knee bent, and she stroked his back with her calf, trying to signal her desire for more.

  Starting to taste her arousal through the drenched panties, Rick used his hand to pry the fabric away to one side, exposing Yukiko’s sex to his attentions. His tongue licked decadently over her labia, wending up and down in exploration, building her excitement higher with each passing second. His lips closed in a series of wet kisses, then searched for the even more responsive nub of her clitoris. His tongue spiraled over it, then he sucked the firm cluster of nerves up into his mouth and attacked it with a burst of tongue flutters and sweet pressure intended to make her gasp in pleasure.

  She did.

  Smiling around her flesh, Rick continued to delight her with his mouth. While his left hand continued to caress up and down her silk-covered leg, his right hand… having completed its task to strip away the fabric of her panties… now shifted to the entrance of her sex. Two fingers circled around her there, teasing her damp skin and slathering her juices all over their length. Thus ready, Rick glided them up and into her slick core. Curling the pads of his fingers toward him, he quested for the telltale bundle of raw nerves that was her g-spot.

  Her muscles stiffened reflexively as he grinded against it, and Rick let out a lustful little rumble of pleasure. Bearing down on that spot, he rubbed with rough sensuality while his mouth continued to feast with greater and greater hunger on her clit.

  All of it together was too much to endure. Yukiko smacked her head against the wall. Her leg over Rick’s shoulder pressed down on him so hard that she lifted herself right off the ground. Her jaw clenched, trying desperately to stop the keen of her orgasm from becoming a true scream that would be heard all over the department store. She came hard, gushing a wave right over his shirt, drenching his sleeve as she squirted in lustful pulses. Lapping his tongue to gather in her taste, Rick pumped his fingers inside of her again and again, riding her through the long climax and crashing into another than hit her like an aftershock.

  As the brightest moment of the orgasm faded from her vision, Yukiko unclenched and allowed herself to breathe again, safe from screaming. She began to laugh helplessly, shaking all over as the afterglow welled up inside her. “Oh… my… goodness… ohhh, I needed that…” She dissolved into that soft laughter again, almost sobbing from pure pleasure.

  Rick hugged around her waist, placing soft kisses into her bare abdomen. He remained as her support as she slowly came down from the powerful moment. Resting his chin on her stomach, he looked up through the valley of her breasts. “I hope that says it all?”

  That only made her laugh all the richer. “Ohh, my, yes! What got into you?”

  Rick sank back onto his knees, and tugged his shirt out of his pants. Pulling it over his head, he quickly wrapped it around one of his hands before she got the wrong idea. This had been a gift; he didn’t intend to press things any further. Half of the shirt was already drenched with her excitement, so he used the rest of it to cleanse her dripping cum off her legs and sex. “After seeing you like this? There was nothing else I could do.”

  His chore complete, Rick tossed the soaking shirt onto the bench, then kissed higher up her body. Pressing his well-sculpted chest against her, he placed tender kisses between the valley of her breasts, then sampled the swell of both above her bra. His mouth moved up her neck, along her jaw, and finally he embraced her lips to lips. She didn’t back off from tasting herself on him. Their kiss lasted as he held her in his arms, skin to skin, her legs rubbing against
his as if wishing he was bare all over.

  Ending naturally, they leaned their foreheads together, panting together in shared passion. “I’m sorry if that was… well, too much.”

  She purred. “Don’t you dare apologize. Not after that.” With a hushed laugh, Yukiko asked, “But are you going to let me go?” She rustled her arms inside the wrapped shirt that was holding her hands pinned.

  Rick massaged his hands along her spine, and placed one more kiss on her lips before answering. “Do I have to?” He chuckled. “I guess the store would probably get upset with us after a day or two in here.” He reached down to slowly unbind her from the twisted blouse. Rather than pull it further off, sensing the moment was passing, he drew it up her skin and back over her shoulders… the first, small admission that she would have to return to a state of public propriety. He sank back onto the seat, then considered the shirt beside him. “Though I think I’m going to make a bit of a sensation for my last exit from the store.”

  Slowly buttoning her shirt, Yukiko had looked unsure what to say or do as they emerged from the euphoric moment. But as he mourned his sopping wet shirt, suddenly she had a purpose. She leaned down and kissed him once more, then said. “Stay right here.”

  Donning her skirt, she left the jacket as she went out of the changing room. It was five minutes when she returned, bearing with her a Newtown Fashion bag.

  Rick looked at it, then realized what had happened. “You went to a different store?”

  Yukiko flashed him a wickedly satisfied smile and produced a green shirt from within. “Well I wasn’t going to buy a replacement from this horrid place.”

  They laughed together as he replaced his other shirt with the new one. Yukiko found the tag and yanked it off, then settled into his arms once more. She hummed happily and kissed him fondly. “This has been a strange day. But thanks to you, it feels like less of a catastrophe. Take care of yourself, alright?”

  “You, too. And don’t forget, being busy isn’t a sin.” Rick gave her a fond smile. “You don’t need some random idiot to fill your life. You can wait for the right idiot to come along. There’s lots of us to choose from. And you? Well, you’re amazing enough that you could take your pick and any of us would be lucky to have you.”

  She let out another fond smile, touched his cheek, then stepped away. It was a determined move, deciding to end the moment before it grew unbearable. “Goodbye for now. Don’t forget. Call me Tuesday, and we hopefully we can take this fight to the next level.” She shrugged and smiled. “Then, well, who knows?” Flashing him a smile, she vanished out the door.

  Rick collapsed back on the seat and sat there for a long while.

  What could possibly surprise him after that?

  Chapter 4:

  Park it Through the Woods

  Bouncing back and forth between anger at getting fired and delight at his encounter with Yukiko, Rick tried to put the chaotic morning behind him. He needed to find that ‘zen’ part of himself he needed to swing a golf club. No matter what else had happened, his afternoon was going to soothe it all away. 18 holes of pure relaxation therapy. Even as part of a tournament, Rick found the game enjoyable in a way that took away all pressure and stress.

  Besides, the tournament was for charity! He always donated most of his winnings to a local orphanage. Ever since he’d learned that his mother had put a younger brother of his up for adoption because she couldn’t make ends meet with two kids, Rick had never forgotten and given every cent he could to helping other kids get help. He wished he had the time or energy to take in an adopted kid and give him a home. But he left that for families and people with the talent for parenting. Maybe one day he would. For now, he simply gave whatever money he could to help professionals look after them better. All he had to do was have a good showing and win a few dollars, and he’d feel good about himself.

  As for the rest? Fun and relaxation. Ohhh, yeah! That same mentality had worked out pretty well last year. He’d scored five over par, won a couple thousand dollars for his charity and pulled off a stunt that some of the regulars around the course still talked about.

  He pulled into the parking lot for the Parkwood Links. This time, it wasn’t his choice to park far away from the clubhouse. He was close to running late. Most of the players were already on-site for the afternoon shot-gun start time. He edged into the secondary parking lot carved out of a corn field, slung his golf carry-bag over his shoulder, and began his walk in to the main entrance.

  The weather was cool for golf, but it would warm up quickly once he got moving. This tournament was usually the last one of the year in these parts. Parkwood closed its doors on the first weekend in December. To warm his blood up and make sure he arrived on time, Rick picked up his pace as he entered the main parking lot and strode toward the sign-in station.

  * * *

  Sasha stamped her feet in her running shoes, then juggled the microphone in her hands so that she could blow into them and warm them up. “How could anyone play an outdoor game in this?”

  Her camera-man, Jack paused in the adjustments he was making after their last interview. “You know it’s not really that cold out, right?”

  Sasha fixed him with a glare meant to tell him he was crazy and wrong and shouldn’t be disagreeing with his reporter unless he wanted a great deal of pain.

  Jack knew her sense of humor well, so rather than be scared, he just smiled back at her impudently. “When you moved here from New Zealand, you knew it was cold here from time to time, right?”

  She was too old to stick her tongue out at him. But she came close. “Yes, I was aware! That doesn’t mean I thought I’d be hanging around outside for long period of time when it got this cold!” Focusing on work, she asked, “How is the footage for the Farris interview?” She’d been surprised that Nick Farris, one of the current big names on the PGA tour, had stopped to give her a few minutes of his time. He was known to spurn the media unless it was a paid appearance or an exclusive.

  Sasha wasn’t ignorant; she knew her blonde hair, bright blue eyes, beach-beauty face and her choice of wearing a golf skirt to show off her tanned legs despite the chill in the air had something to do with Nick stopping. His reputation as a rake was as well-known as his disdain for media cameras. She hadn’t worn the skirt to get the attention; she had been trying to get into the spirit of the event. But it had worked out in her favor.

  Fending off his subtle advances and suggestions to meet him for dinner later, Sasha had managed to piece together enough footage that should make for a decent addition to her event coverage. The bigger the names she got on tape, the more air-time the producer would give her. And air-time equaled success in this business.

  The sacrifice was worth it… as long as Jack had caught everything she needed.

  Jack scanned through his viewfinder one more time. “Umm, yeah, I’m seeing all the key moments here. Here he is giving that fake laugh. Here he is lording his last win over everyone. Here he is being an insufferable know-it-all. Yup, got it all.”

  Sasha laughed lightly. “Nice.”

  Jack asked, “Is that the last of it, then? Or are we sticking around for the whole event?”

  Sasha thought about it. “We should probably catch a little footage of the key players on some of the special prize holes. But we could catch a little lunch and get warm before we start…” She drifted off as her eyes caught sight of a tall, dark-haired man hustling toward the clubhouse. “Hey, Jack, isn’t that the guy who won the prize truck last year? Didn’t he donate it to charity?”

  Sparing a quick glance, Jack shrugged. “Maybe.”

  She rolled her eyes. “No help at all? I wasn’t even here last year. I just reviewed the film last weekend. Weren’t you covering this?”

  Jack shrugged apologetically. “There’s over a hundred guys playing in two shot-gun starts. If they don’t have a PGA tour hat, I probably wouldn’t remember. Even then… hey, you’re the reporter. I just work here.”

  She sighed.
“Not always sure why I keep you around.”

  “For my charming personality.”

  “Uh huh. Follow me. We’re going to get a quick sound bite with him, in case I’m right. That could be a good human interest story.”

  “Whatever you say, boss.”

  * * *

  Rick rounded the last car blocking his way. He hopped onto the patio and aimed toward the front doors. He was mildly surprised when he was intercepted by an engaging blonde woman in a golf shirt and skirt, her upper body snuggled into a jacket to ward off the chill in the air. She was wielding a microphone and was backed up by a friendly looking guy porting a production-level camera on his shoulder.

  “Excuse me, are you Mr. Angelo? I’m Sasha Wilson, WNNC news. Have a minute?”

  Rick glanced at his watch. About fifteen minutes before the cut-off time. He fired a nervous look at the camera. “Umm, I’m not sure you’ve got the right guy. I’m not important. I’m just running late.” He chuckled self-mockingly.

  Sasha rewarded his small joke with a smile. “But wasn’t it you who won the prize last year for driving to the green on the hole 13 Par 4? You won the truck, right?”

  Rick did what he could to contain his embarrassment at having his victory called out openly. He’d never been good at taking compliments. He didn’t play to collect praise like that. “Yeah, that was me. Got lucky as much as it was skill. Two others reached the green. I just happened to get the closest.”

  Sasha’s smile suggested she saw through his efforts at modesty, though appreciated a little humbleness. “Both those others were on the PGA tour, weren’t they?”

  Rick chuckled. “Umm, yeah, that’s true, too. I cheesed off a lot of people who wanted a celebrity to drive away in that truck.”

  Sasha recalled what she had read. “You didn’t drive away in it though, did you? You gave it to charity.” Her smile grew a little brighter. “Did you know the orphanage never sold it? They painted it and drive it around to events. Word is they still call it the Rick-wagon.”