Angie's Affaire De Coeur
Angie set her alarm, and climbed into bed hoping it would not be another sleepless night as she shut her eyelids. Lying there with jumbled thoughts racing through her mind, she remembered thinking Jack to be the perfect mate. He was a semi-retired consultant with a level head for business. He succeeded in every endeavor by imposing strict disciplines to meet objectives. His brazen attitude and athletic body made him a great provider and powerfully attractive. Angie retained a natural beauty possessing a body and disposition that made her extremely sensual. She was cheerful with an upbeat personality who gladly quit her job as a law office manager when it came time to take care of their newborn girl, just a year after their marriage. The birth of their daughter Liz never slowed her passion; that is until Liz was diagnosed with leukemia. Neither Jack nor Angie realized at the time that their relationship would die with her nine months after that diagnosis.
With the passing of Liz each attempted to deal with their tribulation as best they could. Neither wanted to accept their loss and distanced themselves from everyone including each other. Angie went back to school to become a nurse in an attempt to provide comfort to others trying to survive similar ordeals. Jack couldn’t bear the thought of losing to something outside his control and did what many successful intelligent people do . . . drank himself stupid. Angie’s brother Bartholomew was very close with Jack and his visits and discussions were helping them cope with their daughter’s death. Unfortunately for all, he met his own demise fifteen months after Liz. An alcohol induced road rage sent a drunk driver careening over the median strip impacting Bartholomew as he crossed the street, killing him instantly. Bartholomew’s death fractured an already strained relationship. Angie became further engrossed in her studies while Jack reverted to his original grieving procedure. This time fashioning Angie as the common denominator resulting in the deaths of the two people he loved.
Jack’s binges became increasingly longer and Angie did her best to hide his dissolution. As the downward cycle progressed so did his booze intake along with his apathy toward her. The abuse started with sharp subtle comments of blame that stabbed at Angie’s heart and sole. Jack’s abuse slowly advanced physically, internally at first by drinking himself leg less, sleeping in the same cloths he would wear for weeks, and not bathing or grooming for days on end. Self-loathing soon turned his anger outward, spitting at Angie during drunken tantrums, as she helped him off the floor, this soon advanced to more physical assaults against her. Naturally, Jack could never remember the altercations and vehemently denied his actions when confronted. Angie, a stoic Catholic, couldn’t bring herself to leave him. She promised to love him through sickness and in health. However, she could no longer sleep in the same room with him.
Angie prayed every day hoping this was the day Jack would come to terms with his grief. That day never came, over time Angie found it harder to maintain her grades especially as the subject matter grew ever more difficult. Though driven by her daughter’s love the home situation was taking its toll. The academics became heavier with Lucy LaGras, Angie’s inept professor, compounding her problems. Her mind was beginning to shut down when salvation came through a study-group with fellow students around her age. This group consisted of four students Angie, Sabrina, Linda, and Christopher. Their association was not composed of your typical college age students. Christopher was several years older than the women were and they all had successful careers before starting the nursing program. This helped immensely as they all had to deal with this professor from hell. They disrespectfully referred to Ms. Lucy LaGras as Professor Large Ass, linking her last name with her fat ass that was shaped like a milk-dud. This analogy seemed to help them cope with the infectious anxiety she seemed to ooze. Sabrina and Linda lived together, they were very close and it was unclear as to their sexual preferences. Angie connected with Christopher for he lost his wife to cancer and like Angie headed back to school in an attempt to fill the void otherwise occupied by grief. With Jack and Angie’s love waning, she found herself being consoled by Christopher. Angie and Christopher encouraged each other scholastically and personally but most of all they made each other laugh. When they weren’t studying with the group they would go over the curriculums proselytism for hours on the phone. The semester’s end showed the study-group at the top of the class exciting them to celebrate at Linda and Sabrina’s apartment.
The study group danced to music from an oldie’s station and drank strawberry daiquiris. The libation allowed them to relax, washing away their experiences with Professor Large Ass, the pedagogical loser. Dancing to I Feel For You; rendered by Chaka Khan, Christopher suddenly found his drink all over the front of his golf-shirt after Linda impacted it by Sabrina erotically grinding her from behind. Angie automatically offered to rinse it out, more from reflex as a dutiful housewife does than anything else. Christopher shrugged as he peeled his shirt off over his head and handed it to her. Through drunken giggles the girls apologized as they directed them to the kitchen where their washer and dryer were located.
After proceeding to the kitchen Angie rinsed Christopher’s shirt of the rouge colored stain. There they drank daiquiris waiting for it to dry discussing the nursing program and intimate misgivings. Christopher downed his daiquiri, as Angie appraised his sleek physique for the first time. She watched his Adam’s apple repeatedly rise and settle as he drained the frosty red concoction from the glass that he held firmly, swelling the veins over the muscles in his arm. Her eyes followed the chiseled curves of his shaven chest down to his ripped abs pausing as she drank in the undulating movement brought on by each swallow. Suddenly, a wave of warmth washed over her as butterflies fluttered in her stomach; her nipples went erect from the pulsating tingle reverberating between her thighs. Angie blushed when she looked up at Christopher who was broadly smiling at her. She self consciously crossed her arms over her breasts, then her legs in an attempt to create an emotional dike to hold back the tide of her lustful urge.
Angie almost fell off the kitchen chair when Linda broke the awkward silence telling them that Sabrina and she decided to carouse “the Club”, their local bar. Sabrina followed, informing them of their choice to come along or stay in the apartment as long as they like. Given that opportunity Christopher stumbled to his feet hugging both Linda and Sabrina as he thanked them for their help during the semester following with a polite decline to their offer. He promptly excused himself to release the quart or so of daiquiris swelling his bladder. Angie too declined the invite as she said her good byes and thanks to the two women, Sabrina looked at her, gave her a hug and whispered in her ear that they would not be back until late tomorrow morning. Linda chimed in observing Angie’s body language to be dictating the need for some stress released sex. Angie nervously laughed as the ladies headed out the door mouthing last minute guidance to her of the location of their bedrooms, adult toys, lubricants, and lingerie. Angie already had the later taken care of as she started exploring her own inventory a few weeks after the study group started meeting. She began wearing her lingerie under the drab gender-neutral nursing uniform, required for the clinical portion for her degree. Today was a wonderful spring day motivating Angie to wear her turquoise one-piece garter/fishnet stockings with a matching color thong and push-up bra. She covered her alluring tactile with a turquoise cotton/spandex sleeveless dress that draped down 18” below her waste and finished her ensemble with a turquoise handbag parading in sling-back shoes on 3 ½” heels. The dress was loose and comfortable but more importantly, the entire outfit made her feel attractive.
The dryer’s buzzer echoed through the kitchen, startling Angie, indicating Christopher’s shirt to be done. Angie walked over to the appliance and opened its door, pausing to allow the heat waft over her chilled skin. She grabbed the top of the machine with both hands as she arched her back stretching like a cat indulging the warmth to embrace her. She began to fantasize Christopher’s tone body providing the sultry heat. Angie closed her eyes to sear the scene into her mind. She pivoted 180o as she bent back placing her forearms on top of the dryer for support, now she envisioned Christopher behind her, his hands firmly wrapped around her waste as he whispered sensual euphemisms into her ear. She could feel Christopher’s fingers gently caress her cheeks; tenderly cupping her jowls as one of his thumbs lightly traced her lips. A smile radiated onto her visage hearing Christopher comment on her beauty, not in her thoughts but right in front of her. Angie’s eyes shot open fearing the guilt of her fantasy brought to fruition.
Christopher was just about to wash his hands when he heard a strange buzzing noise coming from the kitchen. As he stood washing his hands, he could hear the song My Eyes Adore You; done by Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons, through the bathroom door. The words of the song overwhelmed him with a plethora of emotions as he looked at himself in the mirror over the sink basin. He could feel the grief starting to weigh on him. “Not again”, he thought, he had been trying to fight back the pain from the loss of his wife Maria. Christopher couldn’t sleep anymore; he tried sleeping pills but they made him foggy and lethargic so instead he would do calisthenics until passing out. His conversations with Angie abated his need for physical exhaustion allowing him to sleep; she made him feel like a whole person again. Christopher was able to piece together her personal situation through fragments brought up at their late night conversations. He did not know which was worse, grieving with no partner to soothe nor confide; or having someone you love available but one who offered no comfort nor understanding. Christopher could not fathom how anyone could neglect such a fine woman like Angie. He wished there were something he could do to help her cope.
Wiping his hands dry he left the bathroom and walked toward the kitchen. Upon entering Christopher was stunned to see Angie, both hands on top of the dryer as she curved backward in front of its open door. He drank in her elegance as he ogled her sensually curved figure. All thought left him only to be filled with primal lust for her. His pace slowed as his man-hood swelled to the brink of pain. She whirled to face him as she bent back on her forearms, eyes closed. Christopher could not stop himself from gently caressing her cheeks and cupping her face with both of his hands as he lightly traced her lips with his right thumb. He found himself softly commenting on her delightful beauty as a smile further brightened her appearance. Angie’s eyes suddenly opened, they gazed at each other for what seemed an eternity with unspoken desires. Her lust for him so strong it buckled her knees causing her forearms to slip off the machine. Christopher instinctively stepped forward bracing her erect against the appliance with his groin, not willing to relinquish the precious gem in his hands. Angie felt his throbbing appendage supporting her when their lips met. Christopher’s left hand gingerly glided along the contours of her neckline. His fingers slid through her hair bolstering her head at the base of her skull. Angie tensed at first then went limp in his arms. The kiss became the key that unlocked their unbridled passions.
Angie’s eyes slowly closed while she raised her left arm placing her hand against Christopher’s right shoulder. She found herself deciphering his frame with her touch as their tongues sweetly probed each other’s tips. When their mouths separated Christopher engulfed Angie with his upper limbs pulling her into his chest. She rested her right ear on his cool smooth skin listening to his racing heartbeat. This was the first time since the death of her daughter that she felt a man hold her devotedly. Tears ran down her face, she could feel Christopher’s breath gasp erratically for air; fore he too lost to uncontrollable tears of emotion.
Detached sentiment from years of grief was finally rejoined by forces outside their control. “Make love to me” Angie whispered, looking up at Christopher she repeated it louder this time in a pleading manner. She could smell and taste the strawberries and rum on his skin as she began to kiss his sculpted muscles pausing only to re-utter her request, “make love to me.” Angie impatiently tugged at the belt when it interrupted her kissing path while she slithered down his torso. Christopher picked Angie up by the midriff and sat her on the dryer. He rapaciously nuzzled her neck, peeling the dress off her shoulders, exposing the brassiere that lasciviously presented her breasts. Christopher fleetingly appraised the offering before accepting with his face. Angie’s left boob popped out from his plunge between her bullet shaped breasts which he firmly grasped as he lightly suckled the nipple and kissed the underside that never got attention. The tingly sensation gave her goose bumps while her vaginal area became damp. She wiggled her arms free from the dress running her fingers through his hair, grabbing him by it to guide him to the sweet spot of her tit. Angie gasped as she tightened her hold when ever Christopher would trace its outline with his tongue and lightly nibble on her eraser formed teat. He freed her right breast pleasuring Angie in a similar manner with her guidance.
Christopher’s hands began to trace her stockings from her knees up along her thighs wrapping his hands around her hips as her dress stretched taught along his forearms. His kisses gradually moved up to her left shoulder, then her neck, and on to her succulent lips with flitting probes as they tasted each others passion. While engaged in this lustful parlance, Angie could feel her dress ascending her frame as she began yawing to the background music of the Bee Gees’ Saturday Night Fever aided by Christopher’s sinewy hold.
The alluring texture of Angie’s stockings exposing her hips, with no discernable way to detach them, fascinated Christopher’s imagination enough for him to step back at arms-length and peek at her undergarment. The jaw dropping vision before him of Angie’s one piece garter/stockings exposing ellipses of skin on her inner and outer thigh separated by lace lowered him to his knees. Christopher’s concupiscence ushered his hands slowly toward him, subtly passing on the outside of her legs. Angie quivered as he caressed her inner thighs by sidling his cheek up to his chin then back down to his cheek again. He alternated each of her legs in this fashion as he progressed toward her maidenhead enshrined with satin before him. Christopher could smell Angie’s nectar as he passed the bridge of his nose between her nether lips along the smooth glossy cloth. She vocalized with an uncontrolled “ahh” of delight as he kissed her labia. Angie striped off her dress over her head while Christopher pulled her closer to the edge of the dryer as he contemplated how to remove the underwear and keep the seductive stockings in place. He tugged at the silken triangle revealing a thong, “oh the wonders of humanity”, he thought drawing aside the satin veil revealing her portal of femininity. Anticipating the oral pleasure about to be bestowed upon her Angie spread her legs wider, supporting one on the dryer door and the other she draped over Christopher’s shoulder, balancing her upper torso with her head against the cabinet above the machine.
Using the thumb and middle fingers of both his hands Christopher butterflied Angie’s vertical lips. His left index finger gingerly messaged her exposed velvet while the right one thrummed her vulva. Christopher focused his adulterated lust by utilizing his pleasuring fingers to brace the bulbous knob at the top of her canal as he nibbled, licked, and kissed it. Angie regained her hold on Christopher’s hair with her left hand and pressed the palm of her right hand into her belly in a feeble attempt to hold back the stimulation. She climaxed as Christopher’s tongue flicked wildly on her vaginal focal point, forcing her to arch and buck fervently. He made Angie understand the true meaning of multiple orgasms, as she couldn’t stop. She didn’t want it to stop; she repeatedly directed Christopher’s head between her legs only to be repelled by her own raw nerve’s inability to handle the release of her bereft sensual indulgence.
Christopher had to withdraw to recompose, being only seconds from exploding himself. Angie expressed her need for him to plug the flow of her juices demanding that he “put him in!” Sliding off the dryer she retraced her prior positions, altering her fantasy to fit the experience and current opportunity. Christopher leered at Angie’s salacious frame highlighted in turquoise as she rotated back to where he ogled her proportions. Her demeanor changed further when Abracadabra; performed by The Steve Miller Band sounded through the air. With her legs together and poised on her toes, Angie held onto the machine for stability as she began gyrating her hips in a strip tease fashion to the music. Surprisingly, Angie did not appear slutty nor cheap as one might expect, but gravitated towards a professionally risqué dancer.
Divest of all clothing, Christopher wondered if she realized how skillfully pleasing she was performing. Angie shot him a “fuck me, NOW” look over her shoulder about the same time he was aligning his vibrant rod for insertion into her rheumy opening. Her head and hips swung together with the beat as Christopher’s left arm enveloped her waist, lightly pulling her into him. His right arm pushed on the middle of Angie’s upper back bending her forward at the waist. Properly arranged he merged into her, depositing his hot manhood in the crack of her lovely ass, liken to a hotdog in a bun. Christopher’s middle finger traced down her spine tracking with soft kisses. He outlined a “C” pattern from her lower back across the cheek of her left buttock, cleverly sweeping aside the thong. Christopher tested Angie’s turgid drenched crevice with the head of his penis causing her to quiver from unsettled nerve endings. Carefully he slipped his ramrod into her tender box pausing half way, allowing adjustment to his girth. Angie impatiently slid back engulfing his shaft completely; causing her to come immediately releasing an uncontrollable squeal of ecstasy. Christopher started thrusting his staff in and out of Angie, provoking her eagerness. Her soughs turned to screams of delight as each pelvic advance captured her breath. Angie rested her head on a folded towel she grabbed from the girl’s utility table between the washer and dryer. This allowed her tits to dangle, rambunctiously flopping under the barrage of fulfillment. Prior to reaching their zenith, Angie grabbed both her breasts, in a cross like manner, with opposite hands anticipating the climax. This time it was Christopher who let loose an elated scream mumbling something incoherent as he popped, both found themselves vibrating from repetitious orgasms. Content, Angie again closed her eyes as she lay there all splayed out when the buzzer resonated through her ears.
Disorientation bewildered Angie’s senses as she opened her eyes to find herself still in her bedroom, the buzzing noise was not from a dryer but her alarm. Shutting off the alarm she discovered her nightshirt, bed sheets, and inner thighs saturated. Throwing the covers off of her, she sat up resting against the headboard recalling what happened. Smelling her sweat from the linen Angie felt between her legs with the fingers of her right hand. Touching her feminine flower emitted an unexpected convulsion, which was obviously still too sensitive to handle. Sampling the liquid on her thighs by rubbing it over her fingertips concluded the orgasms to be real enough; “a dream, a fucking wet dream,” she questioned? A slew of emotions raced through her mind as she analyzed the situation, though disappointedly satisfying, Angie felt cheated. However, doing laundry offered a whole new insight into the chore from now on.
Forcing her thoughts back to the real world, she remembered that the grades were being posted today. The alarm was set for her to meet the study group at school and checkout how well they did. After showering, applying make-up, and fixing her hair Angie looked out her window as a broad smile beamed on her face. It was a glorious spring day and Angie knew exactly what she was going to wear for her rendezvous with Linda, Sabrina, and most of all Christopher.