1606010611-When-a-Good-Angel-Falls-Kougar.doc (13 page)

For an instant she froze.
Hot butter?
Sedona loosed an inkling of her erotic side. She kicked herself mentally. But it wasn’t enough punishment. The riptide wasn’t going to be stopped entirely. Only her shyness, her shyness with him stopped it.

She heard no answer, only lessened popping, then silence. She tightened the robe around her, tightened her thighs together, and tried listening to the radio.

Fast blast reports are coming in. Three gigantic cylindrical space craft—flashing primary and secondary colors in what some are calling feather patterns—are being witnessed over
Panama
. They appear to be cruising at a slow speed toward the southern region of Mexico
.

If this is true, could these be our honored guests, the Mayan gods and goddesses returning? I cannot tell you how excited I feel. Some listeners are sending messages of concern. Will Black Ops attempt to destroy these ships? Stop them?

We are now receiving camera feeds from our listeners, playing on our alternate website. This is utterly spectacular. These ships are beautiful, gorgeous, and the patterns do resemble feathers. Art of Hopi some are saying. This is an event of historical proportions. Let’s bring our guest on. John, what do you think? Is this your returning reptoids. Evolved on good old ancient earth, space travelers, and now returning home?

I certainly hope so. What a final vindication of all my work on the reptoid species of Earth. Those ships are beyond the imagination, whoever is aboard. Believe me, I’m standing in the front row if they do land or descend. I will say I would be ecstatic if the inner reptoids would join us, make a grand showing of themselves. In only the friendliest fashion. Let’s let the bloodletting and blood sacrifice Mayans of the past age remain in the past age.

I would certainly agree with that, John! No blood sacrifice of any kind is needed or wanted. Let the wine spill, if there’s any spilling to be done, not the blood.

“What do you think?” Sedona asked as her cherub approached, a huge bowl in one hand. She didn’t dare allow her gaze to wander below his face.

“Quetzalcoatl ships. Progenitors of the Maya and the original Egyptians.” He sat next to her, sexy in jeans and tight white t-shirt, a beautiful contrast to his bronze skin.

“Not the Atlanteans?”

“No, there was a later intermingling of genetics and culture, but not in the beginning.” He finger-summoned a small stand before them, then set the bowl of buttered popcorn down.

“Neat trick. Do I get to learn that?”

“I could teach you. But you already know how.”

“I already know what I don’t know I know.”

“Try some,” he encouraged, grabbing a handful.

“Mmmm. Buttered just right. The other thing you know how to make in the kitchen?”

“Found a popcorn machine in the cabinet above the refrigerator.” His voice held a grin.
“I followed the instructions.”

“Good job, cherub. Been quite awhile since I had such tasty popcorn.”

“I cheated. Read your memory on how you liked your popcorn.” He grabbed another handful.

“Well, if you’re going to cheat, this is the way to do it.” Sedona munched, not knowing when she’d have such a treat again. “Are they going to land in LA? Do you know?”

“Strong possibility. But not absolute.”

“Are they okay? I mean are there any Black Ops that can stop them, damage them? Unless we don’t want them to land. Are they evil?”

“What’s your sense? Are they evil?”

“I don’t get that. Overly arrogant, not necessarily connected to the human race closely. Are they too advanced to understand humanity?”

“Different in nature. Advanced in intellect has little to do with it. Eons of age, of knowledge and wisdom, that’s the separation. There are Black Ops capabilities dangerous to them. More dangerous if they do land.”

“What is this? A battle down to the wire? Nazerazzi black ops versus alien visitors?”

“Alien versus some of the original progenitors. The Dark Masters want Earth and its inhabitants for their evil purpose. The progenitors want reclamation of their own. We want Earth kept in the Light. And in Ascension.”

“What do you mean by Ascension?”

“The raising up of humanity, of Mother Earth in closer connection with the Divine. What you freedom and spiritually yearn for, as many here do.”

“I know what I understand as Ascension, but you never know what someone else means, even you, cherub. Just what is it I’m supposed to do, or be in LA?”

“Yourself.”

“I hate hearing that. I mean I’m tired of hearing that. Everyone has a different idea, expectation of what that is, and it’s never who I actually am. And in the current New World Order you don’t dare be who you are. It’s all deception or earn the hideous consequences.”

“Your spiritual self.”

“Okay, well, that solves it. I’ll just direct-link to my highest Goddess Self, let it flow, and let it roll, as they say.”

“Sarcasm blended with your sweet and light nature, Sedona. Exactly. Just be that.”

“Thanks,” she sourly spoke, yet felt lighter. She sat back, taking a handful of popcorn. She munched slowly. “Are we trying to save a world that doesn’t actually want to be saved? At its core.”

“Sedona, do you think we are?”

“No,” she softly admitted. “I don’t.”

“If you were in charge of the divine decision, would you save humanity on Earth?”

“For all those who deserve it. Yes.”

“This is why you came here this particular lifetime.”

“There’s so much Good, and also this tremendous evil, overwhelming evil. Unbelievable evil. It’s not just Good vs. Evil. This is different.”

“It is different, a crucible. An endtime. The gathering of evil toward its own destruction. It is a time of return to balance in the material realms, my angel woman.” Volcano pulled her close, keeping his arm around her.

“That sounds right spiritually.” Sedona let herself curl up beside him, a natural response. Her cherub just felt too good. “But the nuts and bolts of dealing with this level of evil is way beyond what I ever expected of myself,
of what I can do. Or accomplish. As one person.”

“One angel woman and one cherub,” he tenderly reminded.

“I know there are lots of Good Workers in the Light, praying, meditating, concentrating, all of them doing what they can do, creating miracles daily, I don’t know. Like I said, I’m tired. So very tired. I think you picked the wrong ‘angel woman’.” She let her head find his shoulder, knowing she only encouraged him. She just couldn’t deny herself.

She just couldn’t. So she didn’t.

“Trust me, Sedona,” he murmured in velvet to her. “Learn to trust me.”

“Sure,” she gossamer mocked. “Easier said than done. My experience, they promise you paradise, then put you in hell.”

“They?” he teased.

“Any ‘they’ out there, lots of ‘theys’, at every level the ‘theys.”

“The cherub ‘they’?” he demanded, his tone light.

“Probably,” she grouched. “But you are adorable and sexy. And you feel way too good. Way too young, hard and good.”

”There was a time,” he gently needled. “When you believed age didn’t matter.”

“True. What’d you do? Observe my failed relationships from heavenly on high?”

“All of them. Learn about the angel you’re assigned to assist.”

He nuzzled lightly behind her ear, and breathed in the fragrance of her hair. Sedona didn’t protest as he lowered his nose to her neck, breathing in her fragrances. Hadn’t she wanted this kind of passion from a man, since forever?

“Do you know what your essence smells like?” His voice wooed her.

“No.” She clenched her eyelids, her passion rushing through her like tremendous ocean waves. Goddess she wanted to know, and she was afraid.

“Celestial’s sweetest fire, Sedona
.”

“Stop.” She twisted with every desire, with every passion for him.

“For now, yes. It is too soon for us.”

Sedona blinked, her intense passion suddenly lessened. “Neat cherub trick,” she accused, yet felt a sense of relief. “And I think age does matter now, in a way. I’ve changed my tune.”

“Why?” His sincere curiosity was her undoing.

“When I was a kid, I used to look at ‘senior citizens’, wonder why they aged. Really, it made no sense to me. Why they had lost that—for lack of a better word—zest for living. A lot of them would say they were ready to ‘pass on’. I never understood why, until, my own ‘aging’. My own life.

Sedona paused, feeling the wounded ache of her heart. “People don’t die because of old age. They die because they’re broken. Too broken to live ‘here’ anymore. Broken in spirit, broken in soul, broken-hearted. However they’re broken, they’re too broken to be here on Earth anymore.”

“Why so many souls have departed Earth. True.”

Sedona sighed deeply, nestled against him. He felt so strong to her weakness, and she’d never had a man to lean on before. Why not give in, try it? What exactly did she have to lose now?

Just a heart that had been repeatedly shattered into a million pieces. What was one more time? The only problem was, she knew she couldn’t bear it. But when had that ever mattered in her life? What she could bear and what she could not?

“Stop it,” he ordered. Volcano lifted her onto his lap, cuddling her close. “I’m not a human man, Sedona. Mostly, not human,” he corrected.

“Mostly,” she hopefully muttered. Goddess, he was absolutely irresistible. “What does ‘mostly’ mean?”

“My mother is similar to you.”

“So now you’re falling for your mother?” she sadly joked.

“Similar as in angel human. No, I’m following in Dad’s carnal cloud prints.” He bawdy-grabbed her breasts, and fondled.

Stunned, she could only enjoy his hands blatantly rubbing her breasts over the pink robe.

“Wiggle for me,” he naughty, naughty whispered.

“You’ll only want to use it,” she breathy whispered, wiggling. Wiggling on his growing cherub staff. It seemed like the right thing to do, even if she knew it wasn’t.

“I’ll make it fun,” he naughtier whispered. His fingers snatched at her nipples, and plucked.

“Turn me on.” She’d meant to remind him of her age. Instead, the ‘70s sexual mantra expressed what she felt. Goddess! Was she ever ‘turned on’.

“Light my fire
stick,” he very naughty encouraged.

She wiggled like she imagined a hoyden of ye olden days would. “Such a brutish thing, you bad boy.” She reached back, sliding her fingers into his hair, ravenous for the sensual feel of him.

Volcano opened her robe, and stroked his hands over her breasts. He pinched her rigid nipples rhythmically. The feel of her sumptuous breasts, her sumptuous bottom rubbing on him stoked him to lusty heat. Ferocious cosmic heat.

“It will be fun. I promise,” he lordly persuaded. He rocked his hips beneath her, against the hedonistic rubbing of her bottom. “My staff in your sweet flaming rose.”

“How are you going to make putting that big brute in me fun?” She wiggled more vigorously. “Mmm, I’m feeling wonderfully indecent.”

“You’ve never acted this way before, have you?” he lordly growled in her ear. His nails bit into her nipples, demanding an answer.

“No. No, you make me all torrid and wicked inside.” Boldly wiggling on his cock, her hand caressed wildly through his hair.

“Woman!” Volcano grabbed her haunches, and squeezed. Then he slid his hands on her thighs over the robe. Possessively he stroked while he roughly nibbled her neck. “I am going to shove your robe up over your delectable rump, woman. Bare your privates, tickle your curls with my brazen brute, first.” He growled his claim against the sensitive cord of her neck.

“Oooh,” she crooned, grinding her hips on him. “Let me feel. Let me feel the tip of that big brute. You aren’t going to shove it in me now, are you? It feels way too enormous.”

“Tickling, woman.” Volcano finger-summoned one of the ottomans before them, desperate for her wet curls against his cock’s head. The smell of her rose musk desire tightened his loins to rutting need. “Tickling first, then I am going to shove it in, only in the most fun and pleasurable way.”

“No, no, please. It’s way too big,” she squealed, not resisting when he placed her before him on the ottoman. “No, please, only tickling,” she begged, not resisting as he caressed her robe up, and bared her beautiful privates framed by flaming red curls.

“My red rose beauty.” He stroked her with his voice, then bared his light-throbbing privates. Gently he brushed her curls with his cock’s head. Up and down. Up and down, his brute storm-burning
for her. “Tell me how I make you feel, woman,” he lordly commanded, then tightened his grip on her full hips.

“Oh, ooooh, impossibly wanton. Yes, more,” she crooned to him as his cock stroked up and down, more firmly pressed against her curls. “Oh, I feel so hot and wet. Yes, please, please, more.”