Some Kind of Angel (15 page)

Michael didn’t know it could be like this, wanting to absorb a woman into his body so completely that there was nothing left of himself.  He wanted to possess her body and soul and yet, leave her with her own oneness, the essence that made her Leslie.  It was so new to him, this feeling of wanting to possess and yet knowing that he held in his power a very special woman. 

She continued to move and he was lost in her, lost in the feel, the smell of her.  Now there was a new smell, the smell of her sex as her fluid flowed around him.  She clenched him to keep the feeling of being one with him.  As she clenched him and moved and moved, he soared into ecstasy, a more complete ecstasy than he had ever felt before.  Leslie too, had climaxed and now lay on top of him, her whole body relaxed and pressing against his, a wonderful ending to their lovemaking.  He thought he might possibly lie like this forever and be a happy man. 

He’d fallen asleep.  How like an angel he looked with his Michelangelo face and his long black lashes fanned against his cheek.  I brushed a gentle hand over his dark hair and laid my bare leg across his, careful not to wake him, but still needing to touch him.  How had I ever been so lucky to have such a man want me?  And even more astounding, he’d tricked me into marrying him.  My heart was so full of him, it was hard to think of anything else.  Still as my body relaxed, I remembered Natalie’s expression when she’d caught the bridal bouquet and my mother’s quick action in hustling Natalie out of the crowd.  What was going on there?

I was always too curious about the members of my family.  If I wasn’t mistaken, there had been a strange look on Dorian’s face when the whole bouquet thing happened.   That would need some investigation. I’d always known Dorian was different, quiet, contained, nothing like his get-in-line, or get-out-of-my-way brothers.  He’d been to third world countries, seen things he’d never shared with the family.  He’d come back with old eyes, eyes of a soldier who’d been in a battle and seen his comrades die. 

Michael stirred, opened his eyes and looked at me. Feeling as if I would explode with love for him, I drew a finger down his cheek and said, “Are you thirsty or hungry?  Mom made sure there are plenty of things to eat.”

He tossed away the light cover and moved on top of me, pinning me down on the bed.  “I want you again, Leslie.”

I smiled up at him.  “I think you have me, Michael.”

“Would you…”

“Of course.”  I clasped him in my fingers and helped him find his place in my body.  He lunged into me as if we had not just had sex a half hour ago, as if he were dying for me.  I rose to help him go deeper inside me, so deep he touched my womb.  I was thankful it was so early in pregnancy that I didn’t have to worry about the baby.  He put his hands under my buttocks and lifted me, plunging deep, deep, deeper.  I clutched his shoulders, feeling it was all I could do to just hang on to him and allow him to take his pleasure from me.  He held me tightly and rocked me, taking me again and again until he froze in that instant of intense pleasure when he climaxed and pulsed within me.

When his storm passed, he lay on top of me.  He must have realized that I had not climaxed.  He rolled off of me, instantly contrite.  “Leslie, I…”

I put my hand on his lips.  “Don’t say it.  Don’t worry.  I love giving you pleasure whether I come or not.  But there is a way…”

I took his hand and guided it into me, showing him how to pleasure me, showing him how to touch my clit.

Michael thought how wonderful it was that he could watch her take the pleasure he gave her without being in the grip of his own climax.  He could see it all, her beautiful face wreathed in her ecstasy, her breasts full, her thighs spread open to him.  It occurred to him that she was giving him the gift of her trust, her defenselessness.  She gripped his arms and cried out his name, and he leaned over and put his mouth on hers, letting her take her pleasure from his mouth with her tongue exploring and plunging into him.

It amazed him that while his body was capable of only one climax, he had the ability to keep rubbing and teasing and touching and making her climax time after time after time.  He lost count of the number of times she rose up and cried out his name, shuddering, clutching him as if he were the master of her erotic joy.

When she seemed spent, she murmured, “Oh, Michael.  How is it possible that I love you so much when I hardly know you?”

“You do know me, Leslie.  You know me better than anyone on earth.”

She snuggled close, her arm across his chest, her leg across his.  “Are you hungry?  Thirsty?  Mom stocked the pantry here with food and I think there’s a bottle of champagne cooling in the refrigerator.”

She disentangled herself from him and rose to walk around the bed to the little kitchenette.  He was treated to the sight of her nude body bending over the refrigerator and extracting the gold wrapped bottle from inside.

“Would you like to open it?  It is considered the man’s job to open the wine.”

“I would not have the first idea about how to open that bottle, Leslie.”

She came back to the bed and bounded in beside him, bottle and a strange looking implement in her hand.  “You can’t be serious.”

“Do I often joke with you about things I do not know?”

She tilted her head.  He told himself to keep his eyes focused on her face but it was a difficult task when all that lovely nudeness was there for him to peruse at his pleasure

“You never joke, do you?  I didn’t realize it, until you said that just now.  All right.  Here’s the way it’s done.  First you take off the gold wrapper.”  She proceeded to peel it off and then, before he realized what she was doing, she took the narrow gold strip and proceeded to wrap it around his penis. 

“Leslie! 
What
are you doing?”

“Just teasing you a bit, my love.”  She inserted the bottle opener and brought up the cork.  “Ah, ah, ah, no taking off that gold wrapper.  Not until I say you can.”  Champagne bubbled up and over the top and she thrust it over his nude body so that the chilled liquid spilled on his abdomen.  Before he could protest, she bent her head and began to lap the champagne off his flat belly.  It was the oddest sensation in the world to Michael, having his penis wrapped in the soft foil, and Leslie’s tongue lapping up the cold liquid off his warm body.

“Leslie.  You shouldn’t be drinking alcohol.”

“Oh, crap, I forgot.  I guess you’ll have to drink the rest.”  She put an arm under his shoulder, brought him upright and put the bottle to his mouth.

He grabbed the bottle away from her.  “I have a feeling I need all my wits about me to deal with you, love.”

“You won’t drink the champagne and you won’t let me drink it.  We can’t let it go to waste.  Come in the bathroom with me.”  She tugged him up off the bed, took him to the huge tub inside the bathroom and said, “Get in.”

“Get in?”

“Get in.  You’re not afraid, are you, Michael?”

“Well, yes, a little bit.  I’ve never seen you in this mood before.”

“That’s because you’ve never seen me high on sex before.”  She gave him another little push and he obliged her by climbing in the tub.  She followed him in, her back against his chest.  Then she proceeded to pour the champagne over the two of them.  He smelled the grapey odor of the fine wine and felt its stickiness.  She poured the last little bit over his toes.  “Now make love to me, Michael.  Put your hand inside me.  Explore every bit of me.  And when you’re finished, I’ll take you out of that gold wrapper and…”

He wanted to resist her.  But she laid her head back on his shoulder and brought his hand to her core and he let her guide him to the secret places inside her.  Then she let his hand explore while she lifted both her arms and encircled his neck, arching upward to make her completely open to him.  How beautiful she was with her breasts displayed with their swollen tips.  He lay there, knowing that he had recovered his own hardness, and he used his hand to pleasure her and pleasure her and she sighed and moaned and then did the almost impossible feat of turning and slowing unwrapping him from the gold foil and plunging his penis into her warm, wet and ready core.  She was sticky with champagne and so was he and it didn’t seem to matter as she rose up almost to the tip of him and then sank down.  She did this again and again, until he gripped her arms and held her where she was while he moved inside her and let his body convulse with the heaviness of his climax. 

She collapsed into his chest, as spent as he was, and he lay there with the scent of her hair and her sex filling his nose.  He had no previous experience with sex, but he thought that it was extraordinary, the intimacy and complete openness that Leslie had shown him. 

Much as he would have liked to lie like this with her body covering his, he thought perhaps it was time he took control of the situation.  He brought her up to her feet with him, thinking it was a miracle he could stand in the slippery bathtub.  Still drowsy with sex, she leaned on him.  He pulled the curtain round and turned on the shower.

She came to life then, crying out his name.  “Michael.  It’s too cold.  You make me feel like I’ve jumped into a cold lake.”

He wrapped her in his arms.  “It will warm up soon.”

She clung to him, shivering.  “Why are you doing this?”

“You want to go about with sticky champagne on you for the next few hours?”

“I was having fun.  Do you realize how long it’s been since I’ve had fun with a wonderful man like you?  Never, that’s how long.  Now you want to end it.  I don’t think I like you very much.”

“You’ll get over it.”

Was there anything more beautiful than this woman’s body with water splashing over it and beading in all the right places?  He had to ignore her beauty.  He must ignore her beauty.  But he couldn’t resist leaning down and licking a drop of moisture from the tip of her breast. 

“That’s more like it.  Michael…”

“No, Leslie.”  He helped her out of the tub and wrapped her in one of the big fluffy robes and shrugged into the other one himself.  His gold wrapper lay covering the drain.

“You did not eat anything at dinner.  You were too busy feeding me.  Now I am going to return the favor.”  He pressed her down into a chair at the little table, and put a plate of cold shrimp in front of her.

“Eat.”

She shook her head. 

“Leslie?”

“You’re just a big spoilsport.  I wasn’t done.”

“We have more time for play, later, after you eat.  You don’t want to starve your baby, do you?”

“I don’t like shrimp without cocktail sauce.  Nobody eats shrimp without cocktail sauce.  I guess this is another one of those things you don’t know.”

He brought a cup of red stuff which had been packed with the shrimp, thinking this must be the cocktail sauce.  He’d guessed right.  Leslie immediately took a shrimp by the tail and dipped it in the sauce.

“Did I ever tell you that I was once in dire danger?”

He sat down next to her and thought he’d try a shrimp himself.  “No.”  He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear about this.

“It’s one of the things you don’t know about me.  I thought if I told you something about me, you’d tell me something about you.”

“All right.”  He leaned over and pulled the edges of her robe more tightly together. “Tell me.”

“Now, see?  That’s what I mean.  You are so strange, Michael.  What man would want to keep his wife’s body hidden away from his eyes?  Most men would be pulling my robe off and making me sit here in the nude.”

“We’ve already established I’m not most men.  And if I’m to concentrate on what you’re saying, I need to keep that beautiful body of yours covered.  You were about to tell me the story about your being in danger.”

“Yes.  Well, it was Lynne’s fault.”

“Your sister-in-law Lynne?  She seems much too nice to endanger you.”

“Well, she didn’t, not really.  But she had this guy stalking her.  His name was Richard.  He lured me to Lynne’s hotel room, telling me he was going to have me sign a contract that would give me a starring role on Broadway.  You have to remember I was sixteen and pretty dumb.”

“Naïve is probably the better word, my love.”

“No, I think dumb is the right word.  Anyway, Lynne came.  She was the woman he really wanted.  She got me out of the hotel room and whacked him in the crotch with the fireplace poker.”

He had been on earth long enough to know a whack in the crotch would effectively disable any man.  “I assume that discouraged him,” Michael drawled.

“Oh, yeah.  He was crying and moaning and groaning and pleading for her to call an ambulance.  He agreed not to charge her with anything if she didn’t tell people what really happened.  He went back to New York and his rich wife divorced him.”

“I guess he got his punishment after all.”

“I guess he did.  Anyway, I wanted you to know that about me.  Now, you need to tell me something about yourself.”

He was unsure of her in this mood and even more uncertain of himself.  She seemed so comfortable bouncing around him with her robe coming loose, while he wished he could at least put on a pair of pants.  Would it be unromantic to do so?  There were so many things he didn’t know.  “There is nothing to tell.”

“Oh, yes, there is.  I think…you’re an alien.”

“Well, that is very imaginative of you, Leslie, but…”

“No, I mean a real alien. An alien who has super powers.  That would explain your affinity for horses and children and women who go to bed with the wrong guy, and your penchant for doing good deeds and not understanding any idioms.”

“You know there is no such thing as an alien who walks around on earth like a man.”

“It would also explain how you seem to know so little about life.”

“Leslie.  I should think after today you would know that I’m a normal man with all the normal instincts.”

“You’re a dream to make love with.” 

“So are you.” 

She’d stopped eating and he picked up a shrimp, dipped it in the sauce and fed it to her.  There were pears in the basket and he cut one of those and fed her a piece.