Devil May
folder
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,650
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,650
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Kitty
note: I have no idea for a title or summery. but if I don't get too preoccupied then I'll turn it into more chapters. enjoy
I had a premonition that evening. Well, maybe something not as deep or pensive as what
I’m contemplating. Hmm. Call it “men’s intuition” but something pertaining to the night ahead doesn’t feel right. Off. Unusual. Ha. The fact that I’ve taken the time to think so formally is off and unusual. Isn’t it Hank? You’ve got your nuts so wired right now that you’ll believe anything. Your ‘scaping to the back of your mind. Digging up any reason to believe that something you ain’t too fond of is gonna happen.
And all because that lil girl is late. An hour and thirty minutes late.
It’s in my belief that the devil can take human form. That form being the doe of temptation, the eye of longing and desire. A woman. Not just any woman. Slender and form fitting, a near perfect vision of beauty. She’ll be neither skinny, slim, nor fat. Just tight. Very tight. Jet black hair curtaining that slender, perfect form. Long and wavy. Moving with the breeze of infamy. But her beauty would only be the tip of the ice burg. Her extra parts would be an over kill. Literally. Those slender, long legs of hers, trailing into the shapely curve of her ass. Tight, smooth, never veiling the marks of another man. And her tits. Two words, big and round. Perfectly matching that ass. No sagging or sinking, always close together and ready for attention. And that pussy….wet and tight. Even on a cold day.
I’m shattered from my thoughts when I hear the front door slowly creep open. It’s no guess who would be so brave as to walk in to my shadowed and dusty den. And the sound of stiletto heels hitting the floor board is no guess either. Poor Angie. Her numerous attempts to sneak up on me fail to succeed. When I was nine I was struck blind from a horrible disease which I still can’t pronounce. I was supposed to die in 11 years. For a decade I learned to heighten my sense of hearing. At the time it made no matter to me. I was supposed to die 11 years prior to becoming blind. Now my vision’s below perfect, I’m not dying, and I can hear a car horn 20 miles from Bensonhurst.
Suddenly the tune to “I got the world on a string” rings in my ear. Jesus Angie. You’re wearing plastic heels on a hard wood floor and whistling to yourself. Be lucky you got people to protect you. “The kitty cat finally finds her way home.” I shout to the other room. She comes prancing in in all her glory. Stilettos grazing the floor.
“Oh Hank!” she pouts. Disappointed that I didn’t let her spook me. As if she ever could.
“Not even this once could you let me spook you? I mean really. I spend all day on my feet surrounded by drunk and horny men. My ass is almost bright red and my feet are killing me. Can I have just a little fun? You are such a joy killer……” All I do is sit there and wait. That’s really all a man can do is just sit and wait while his woman nags at him. But I look at this as our form of “couple’s communication”. Whatever you would call it when you’re technically not with someone but enjoy the pleasure of their company. Who isn’t a prostitute mind you, but a stripper.
“How was the pay today?” Always ask about their day. Make them feel comforted.
“Enough for my share of the rent. And that doesn’t include tip. So big points for me tonight. But um….” She stops midway. My face starts to tighten.
“Jimmy really wants you to come back.” Same routine in our conversations. We could be talking about anything, anything in the world, and she’ll bring up something about my old army buddy Jimmy, wanting me to come back working with him at the strip club. We were supposedly working as partners, but where’s the partnership when you’re working below medium wage as a bouncer while your ‘partner’ is in the back sniffing coke, laughing it up with Japanese business men. So I threw my towel in, and my fists, and left. Not my best move at the time but I don’t regret it. My friendship and trust are not expendable. You learn that the hard way.
“I’ll bet he does.”
“Security’s not as tight without you.”
“So he wants my muscle then?”
“Well no….”
“So why should I go back? That’s obviously the only thing I’m good for. Big burly tight ass Hank ain’t worth but a fight and a fuck.”
“Where the hell would you think up something like that?”
I don’t answer for awhile, giving Angie the idea to take a hint and drop the subject. But she can’t help it, it’s her job to get into my personal life. Angie. You can search and search every trace of my life, baby doll, but you won’t find the facts. Not to prance around my ego, but it’d scare you half to death.
She sighs when I don’t answer. I can tell she’s feelin pretty distant cause the sound of those heels hittin the floor start to pick up again. Boney little arms wrap their way around my neck and she rests her head on my back. Buttering me up will only get you so far Angie.
“I know you’ve had your difficulties Hank. And I know you’re not the easiest to seek forgiveness from. All I want is for you to actually get out of this apartment. Work, go to the gym, hell, and even join a gang. Just get out in the world for once.”
She starts caressing my cheek. Tiny, stubby fingers gracing my stubble. Goddamn it Angie. You won’t stop until you get what you want. You’re too involved with yourself. A little girl in a woman’s body. And it’s time that little girl was knocked down a peg. She moves her hand down to my chest, sliding her hand down the inside of my shirt. I grab her wrist before she can get what she wants.
“Hank….”
“Angie.”
She tries to pull out of the death grip I have on her wrist. She’ll never succeed. I’m 205 lbs of muscle babe. What are your odds?
“I don’t wanna fight with you tonight babe.”
“I didn’t think you did.”
“No more talking. Period.”
I turn her around so I’m staring at her blank in the face. My hand still tightly secure around her wrist.
“But I-”
“Not another word.”
Her wrist stops moving. I let go of her wrist and cup her face, pulling her lips towards mine. Rose petals grace my lips. Soft, creamy rose petals. Her kisses are always soft and understanding, sweetness mimicking the harsh crushes I’m enforcing on her lips.
“The only thing on your lips is gonna be me babe.” She responds with a moan as I start cupping most of her woman hood I can reach between the slit of her thong. Despite her other male advances, I’m pretty happy she’s wearing that tight ass skirt. I graze my tongue over her bottom lip. Nipping and sucking at it like an animal. She’s tremblin and I ain’t even started. I make a harsh attempt to pull down her skirt without tearing the damn thing off. I’m usually not as cautious of my movements sexually. I never fail to please and she never complains. The skirt finally gives and I realize that Angie is pantyless. It excites and angers my nerves at the same time.
“What the fuck Angie?” I demand. Probing my index finger in her pussy
“Y-you know how work is Hank,” she’s stuttering. Either you’re more innocent that ya look babe, or there’s something you’re not telling me.
“You leave yer panties at the club?”
“yea…” she answers quickly. I respect what she’s doin, maybe even how she’s doin it, but it’s hard not to forget such an article of clothing in 30 degree weather. But I’m too preoccupied to bring up my suspicions. My conscience is shot and without haste I grab Angie by the waist and throw her on the bed. I jump on top of her and suckle her neck, not even waiting for a gasp or a moan, which I get with insensible satisfaction. I move my hand back to her pussy, this time slipping in two fingers. Her cries of pleasure soon turn to whimpers of need as I’m stimulating her senses, mimicking what I have planned for later.
She’s tossing her head side to side, my hands possessing her every liking. You minx. You have no control of your body anymore.
I had a premonition that evening. Well, maybe something not as deep or pensive as what
I’m contemplating. Hmm. Call it “men’s intuition” but something pertaining to the night ahead doesn’t feel right. Off. Unusual. Ha. The fact that I’ve taken the time to think so formally is off and unusual. Isn’t it Hank? You’ve got your nuts so wired right now that you’ll believe anything. Your ‘scaping to the back of your mind. Digging up any reason to believe that something you ain’t too fond of is gonna happen.
And all because that lil girl is late. An hour and thirty minutes late.
It’s in my belief that the devil can take human form. That form being the doe of temptation, the eye of longing and desire. A woman. Not just any woman. Slender and form fitting, a near perfect vision of beauty. She’ll be neither skinny, slim, nor fat. Just tight. Very tight. Jet black hair curtaining that slender, perfect form. Long and wavy. Moving with the breeze of infamy. But her beauty would only be the tip of the ice burg. Her extra parts would be an over kill. Literally. Those slender, long legs of hers, trailing into the shapely curve of her ass. Tight, smooth, never veiling the marks of another man. And her tits. Two words, big and round. Perfectly matching that ass. No sagging or sinking, always close together and ready for attention. And that pussy….wet and tight. Even on a cold day.
I’m shattered from my thoughts when I hear the front door slowly creep open. It’s no guess who would be so brave as to walk in to my shadowed and dusty den. And the sound of stiletto heels hitting the floor board is no guess either. Poor Angie. Her numerous attempts to sneak up on me fail to succeed. When I was nine I was struck blind from a horrible disease which I still can’t pronounce. I was supposed to die in 11 years. For a decade I learned to heighten my sense of hearing. At the time it made no matter to me. I was supposed to die 11 years prior to becoming blind. Now my vision’s below perfect, I’m not dying, and I can hear a car horn 20 miles from Bensonhurst.
Suddenly the tune to “I got the world on a string” rings in my ear. Jesus Angie. You’re wearing plastic heels on a hard wood floor and whistling to yourself. Be lucky you got people to protect you. “The kitty cat finally finds her way home.” I shout to the other room. She comes prancing in in all her glory. Stilettos grazing the floor.
“Oh Hank!” she pouts. Disappointed that I didn’t let her spook me. As if she ever could.
“Not even this once could you let me spook you? I mean really. I spend all day on my feet surrounded by drunk and horny men. My ass is almost bright red and my feet are killing me. Can I have just a little fun? You are such a joy killer……” All I do is sit there and wait. That’s really all a man can do is just sit and wait while his woman nags at him. But I look at this as our form of “couple’s communication”. Whatever you would call it when you’re technically not with someone but enjoy the pleasure of their company. Who isn’t a prostitute mind you, but a stripper.
“How was the pay today?” Always ask about their day. Make them feel comforted.
“Enough for my share of the rent. And that doesn’t include tip. So big points for me tonight. But um….” She stops midway. My face starts to tighten.
“Jimmy really wants you to come back.” Same routine in our conversations. We could be talking about anything, anything in the world, and she’ll bring up something about my old army buddy Jimmy, wanting me to come back working with him at the strip club. We were supposedly working as partners, but where’s the partnership when you’re working below medium wage as a bouncer while your ‘partner’ is in the back sniffing coke, laughing it up with Japanese business men. So I threw my towel in, and my fists, and left. Not my best move at the time but I don’t regret it. My friendship and trust are not expendable. You learn that the hard way.
“I’ll bet he does.”
“Security’s not as tight without you.”
“So he wants my muscle then?”
“Well no….”
“So why should I go back? That’s obviously the only thing I’m good for. Big burly tight ass Hank ain’t worth but a fight and a fuck.”
“Where the hell would you think up something like that?”
I don’t answer for awhile, giving Angie the idea to take a hint and drop the subject. But she can’t help it, it’s her job to get into my personal life. Angie. You can search and search every trace of my life, baby doll, but you won’t find the facts. Not to prance around my ego, but it’d scare you half to death.
She sighs when I don’t answer. I can tell she’s feelin pretty distant cause the sound of those heels hittin the floor start to pick up again. Boney little arms wrap their way around my neck and she rests her head on my back. Buttering me up will only get you so far Angie.
“I know you’ve had your difficulties Hank. And I know you’re not the easiest to seek forgiveness from. All I want is for you to actually get out of this apartment. Work, go to the gym, hell, and even join a gang. Just get out in the world for once.”
She starts caressing my cheek. Tiny, stubby fingers gracing my stubble. Goddamn it Angie. You won’t stop until you get what you want. You’re too involved with yourself. A little girl in a woman’s body. And it’s time that little girl was knocked down a peg. She moves her hand down to my chest, sliding her hand down the inside of my shirt. I grab her wrist before she can get what she wants.
“Hank….”
“Angie.”
She tries to pull out of the death grip I have on her wrist. She’ll never succeed. I’m 205 lbs of muscle babe. What are your odds?
“I don’t wanna fight with you tonight babe.”
“I didn’t think you did.”
“No more talking. Period.”
I turn her around so I’m staring at her blank in the face. My hand still tightly secure around her wrist.
“But I-”
“Not another word.”
Her wrist stops moving. I let go of her wrist and cup her face, pulling her lips towards mine. Rose petals grace my lips. Soft, creamy rose petals. Her kisses are always soft and understanding, sweetness mimicking the harsh crushes I’m enforcing on her lips.
“The only thing on your lips is gonna be me babe.” She responds with a moan as I start cupping most of her woman hood I can reach between the slit of her thong. Despite her other male advances, I’m pretty happy she’s wearing that tight ass skirt. I graze my tongue over her bottom lip. Nipping and sucking at it like an animal. She’s tremblin and I ain’t even started. I make a harsh attempt to pull down her skirt without tearing the damn thing off. I’m usually not as cautious of my movements sexually. I never fail to please and she never complains. The skirt finally gives and I realize that Angie is pantyless. It excites and angers my nerves at the same time.
“What the fuck Angie?” I demand. Probing my index finger in her pussy
“Y-you know how work is Hank,” she’s stuttering. Either you’re more innocent that ya look babe, or there’s something you’re not telling me.
“You leave yer panties at the club?”
“yea…” she answers quickly. I respect what she’s doin, maybe even how she’s doin it, but it’s hard not to forget such an article of clothing in 30 degree weather. But I’m too preoccupied to bring up my suspicions. My conscience is shot and without haste I grab Angie by the waist and throw her on the bed. I jump on top of her and suckle her neck, not even waiting for a gasp or a moan, which I get with insensible satisfaction. I move my hand back to her pussy, this time slipping in two fingers. Her cries of pleasure soon turn to whimpers of need as I’m stimulating her senses, mimicking what I have planned for later.
She’s tossing her head side to side, my hands possessing her every liking. You minx. You have no control of your body anymore.