The Devil In Her – Part 1

The fuzziness of her dreams began to wash away as the sunlight filtering in from the partially shuttered blinds began to pound through her eyelids. Angie slowly rolled away from the light and struggled to pull the room into focus as the dew cleared away from her opening eyes. The sights were familiar and comforting. Portraits of her family and friends hung on the wall across from her. Beneath them, her collection of perfume bottles cluttered the dresser.

Everything seemed correct... except for the smell. As she took her first deep breath of the morning, the smell assaulted her. It was rich odor of sweat, spit, and sex. As she recognized the sweet stench of coitus, the memories of last night all came rushing back to her. Angie bolted up in bed, the sheets falling away from her still naked form.

Almost frantic, she scanned the room and patted the ruffled comforter on her bed. He was gone...

She looked over at her clock radio and noticed his mask sitting next to it. It was his Devil mask - a simple camouflage made of paper covered in red sequins with two short burgundy horns protruding up out of the sides. She picked it up and turned it over. Inside was a note scribbled in Sharpie:

Next time no masks - 793-1122 - Jacob

So that was his name. She had simply called him her dark prince all night. Angie’s eyes scanned back towards the bed and over the pillows. Her own white feathered mask lay crumpled next to her pillow. It must've come off while she slept - or so she hoped.

Angie fell back onto the bed, breathing in the still pungent odor wafting up from the scattered sheets. She could still smell him, and his lingering presence sent the memories of last night rushing back into her mind. How had she, a self proclaimed "good girl" let this happen? A harmless night tagging along with her friend had led Angie to him. She had committed herself to having just a couple drinks and then getting herself home and into bed at a reasonable hour. But then she knew simply by the way he carried himself as he approached her, that her fate that night was no longer in her hands...


Angie sat at the bar facing outward with her legs crossed feeling wholly out of place. She kept pulling down the insanely short white miniskirt that her friend Jaime had talked her into wearing.

"You'll be a hot sexy angel!" Jaime had proclaimed as she held the skimpy outfit up before her.

Now she wasn't so sure. When she'd looked in the mirror earlier, it was true that she did feel sexy. The outfit consisted of white knee-high spike heeled leather boots, a short white mini-skirt, and a white leather bustier that laced up in the back. Topping it all off of course was the white sequined and feathered mask.

"My god! I'm so jealous!" Jaime giddily intoned as Angie had turned around in front of the mirror. The outfit left very little to the imagination. The tall boots accentuated her long legs and the tight mini-skirt hugged and added some shapeliness to her otherwise slight buttocks. Her medium sized breasts were hiked up to maximum cleavage by the bustier and looked quite round and pleasing.

Now as she sat alone at the bar, she felt ridiculous. This was exactly the way other women dressed – the same ones she would often describe in a whisper to her friends as "tramps”. Sure it was, Mardi Gras, but Angie was flying into her thirties. She was getting too old for this. Fortunately, she'd decided to bring along a white bolero jacket which was the only thing aside from her long raven hair that was providing her with any warmth or coverage right now.

angie05-final

Jaimie had abandoned her in search of beads. She wore a very similar outfit, except all black with red and purple accents. Being five years younger than Angie, Jaime was less inhibited and less jaded about the night life. She had roped Angie into dressing up and coming out with her. Angie had agreed on the promise that she would actually have fun this time. Things would be better, she had promised.

Of course, as soon as they arrived, Jaime had started collecting free drinks and beads. Her outgoing personality and flirtatious nature was an immediate draw for the men. Jaime had tried to include her friend initially, but Angie found the lascivious nature of the men off-putting. Instead, she just withdrew into her own bubble and resigned herself to sitting out while Jaime had her fun.

Every once in a while Jaime would come cruising by to check on Angie, get another drink, and show off the latest plastic trinket she had collected by flashing her ample brown D-cup breasts. Angie congratulated her, collected a few beads from her and sent her back on her way.

"Are you sure you're okay Ang? You don't look like you're having any fun..."

"I'm fine. I'm just enjoying sitting here and people-watching," she lied.

"Okay, well I'll be back to check on you in a few minutes. I'm gonna see if I can find that stud who gave me these last beads and see if I can get him to dance with me..." Jaime's voice trailed as she skipped away from the bar.

As Angie watched Jaime disappear into the crowd of debauched revelers, her eyes scanned over towards the door where the bouncer was carding a group of new arrivals. They appeared to be yet another collection of rowdy party-going men, but one of them caught her eye. Unlike the other guys, this one seemed quiet and reserved.

As they made their way inside and towards the bar, she drank in the sight of him. He was of average height, wide in the shoulders, with medium-length curly brown hair falling down just off his shoulders. He was dressed nicely with expensive looking black leather shoes and matching dark slacks. He wore a tight-fitting red knit shirt that revealed a pleasing, but not overly muscular build. His "costume" consisted of a magnificent long flowing red cape, and a simple red-sequined Devil's mask. He wore no beads.

She watched him intently as he and his friends came up to the bar. Something about the way he carried himself exuded supreme confidence, yet she didn't sense any cockiness in that demeanor. As if on queue, he turned his head and caught her staring at him. The corner of his lip curled in a slight smile as he acknowledged her and edged up to the bar right next to her.

"Double Makers on the rocks, please."  His voice was smooth, just a hint above baritone.

Angie tried to look nonchalant as she sat next to him, facing partially away. She pretended to be interested in watching the crowd before her. As he set his cash down and collected his drink, the stranger leaned over slightly and spoke into her ear.

"Waiting for someone?"

As she turned to answer him, she caught a wiff of his cologne: musky, with a hint of sandalwood. His scent only contributed to the perfect image of him she was forming in her mind.

"What? Oh, no. I'm here with a friend," she smiled hoping her erratic response didn't make her seem ditzy.

"Really?" he sighed, "Such a shame for a beautiful woman like you to be sitting by herself on a night like this."

"Well, I'm used to it. I mean, I've done this before. Mardi Gras, and drinking... and..." she almost stuttered, "Well it gets old after a while."

"Ah, that sounds like the voice of disappointment," he nodded, "Mardi Gras doesn't always have to be about... this," he said as he waved his hand out towards the crowd.

"No? I suppose not," she sighed, "but it seems I keep ending up here anyway."

"Well," he smiled, "Perhaps we can find a way to change that."

He extended his hand towards her, clearly offering a gentelmanly handshake. Once she realized what it was, she immediately reached out and set hers into his.

"It's nice to meet you," she said, "I'm A..."

"Angel," he interrupted. "And you can call me your dark prince."


Angie kicked aside the covers and let the chill morning air kiss goosebumps upon her naked flesh. Every sensation felt erotic to her now. She cast her eyes down her body. Her pert breasts sat happily in front of her, erect pink nipples stabbing out into the morning air. Scanning down her creamy white skin further, her eyes settled upon the well-trimmed mound of dark hair perched on the precipice of her sex.

She felt beautiful.

With a contented sigh, she ran her hand slowly down her side, up over her hip, and over her pelvis spreading her fingers and running them through her pubic hair. Her hand continued slowly down between her legs, grazing the exposed clean-shaven skin of her vulva. Suddenly curious, she let her middle finger wiggle in between her lips. Her finger immediately encountered the wetness that was being held in by the thin wall of her labia. As she pressed it in further, her juices leaked out and began to run down the crack of her ass and onto the bed.

He had done this to her. Masturbation had lost it's allure lately with all of the stress of her day-to-day life, and frankly, a loss of interest in sex itself. Now she could barely contain her eagerness.

Angie began to slowly slide her middle finger in and out, lubricating it thoroughly with her juices. Her other hand joined in, cruising up over the curve of her rib cage and rubbing the base of her breast. She held her tit firmly, pinching her fingers together slowly upward until they held her nipple between them. Then she grasped it firmly and pulled her nipple sharply upward sending a wave of pain-tinged pleasure surfing over her body.

Her mind drifted back to memories last night. She remembered the way he had made her strip for him. She remembered the way he had laid her down on the bed, slowly and deliberately. She remembered how he had worshiped her whole body, kissing her from toe to head - licking, sucking.

Her finger slid out of her pussy, trailing her juices up her lips seeking her clit. Already stiff and peeking from it's hood, her finger rubbed her juices in it, tracing a circular pattern around it. Her body's reaction was immediate. Her hips arched, lifting her ass slightly off the bed as each twirl of her finger sent a warm surge of pleasure radiating outward from her sex.

She remembered how he had laid on top of her, using one hand to hold both of her arms above her head. He had licked his way up to her neck, stopping there to pay particular attention to her jugular hollow - wrapping his lips around it lovingly, running his tongue up and down.

And then he had worked his way up to her lips, saving the best for last. Even with the masks in the way, he proved to be an excellent and sensual kisser - sloppy, wet, and hungry. Angie picked up the pace on her clit. She was going to orgasm soon and she knew it. She could feel her sex oozing juices liberally out and down her crack. Her free hand was moving rapidly from one breast to another, pinching and pulling on her nipples.

She remembered how he had presented his cock to her. Kneeling in front of her, he had slowly unzipped his pants and pulled it out. It had dangled just in front of her face, the tip already wet with precum...

"Oh god! Mmmm...."

Angie rolled halfway onto her side as her leg involuntarily kicked out from under her. The intensity of the orgasm came like a white heat, blurring her vision and causing her ears to ring with the thunder of her own heartbeat. Her hand was applying so much pressure to her clit that it hurt. A tear rolled out of her tightly shut eyes.

"Ahh..." she sighed as she rolled back onto her back. She spread her legs and ran her hand down over her wet pussy lips, savoring the slippery sensation of her own post-orgasm wetness. Happy, but still unsatisfied, she slipped two wet fingers inside. She could still feel the receding waves of her first orgasm and began rapidly finger-fucking herself to catch up.

She was going to cum again.

"Mmm... Fuck!"

She could hear the wet sloppy sounds of her juices being splattered around as her hand continued to work it's way frenetically in and out of her. She bit her lip as another wonderful rush of orgasmic pleasure washed over her.

She could've kept going. She was so wet, so hungry for more.

Then the phone rang. It was SexyBack - Jaime's ringtone.

Oh crap, Jaime!

She pulled her hand out, wiping the juices across her stomach, and rolled out of bed searching for her purse which contained the muffled cries of Justin Timberlake. The purse was halfway across the room. Weak in the knees, she stumbled over her crumpled boots as she shuffled towards her purse. It went silent as she picked it up. Deciding to call her right back, Angie fished out her phone.

15 new text messages. 4 new voice mails. Crap, she was in trouble now.

"Angie!" was the immediate shout of the voice on the other end of the line.

"Hey Jaimie..." she began...

"Oh my god! Are you okay? Where are you?"

"I'm fine. I'm at home."

"At home? What the hell happened last night? You just disappeared..."

Angie took a moment to ponder the appropriate response. She stood in front of her mirror, still naked. Her hair was tussled in the back and her lipstick was smeared a bit in a corner. It didn't matter, she was still beautiful. The poise of her body - back straight, shoulders squared, tits hanging out proudly, and pussy wet, matted, and probably musty by now, but electric and happy.

"Angie?"

"What? Oh, I'm fine," she replied absent-mindedly.

"Okay..." came Jaimie's mildly-irritated voice, "but what happened?"

Angie turned around and looked at the room. Her 'Angel' outfit was piled neatly on the floor where she had stripped it off. Her collection of beads still hung flashing from the bedside lamp. His mask lay upside down beneath them. The covers were mostly stripped off the bed. A wet spot remained, fresh and warm.

"Angie!?"

"Nothing, nothing happened..." she stuttered, "I mean, something happened, but I'm fine..."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she smiled to herself, "I'm sure."

"I'm coming over."

"No need Jaime. I'm fine, really."

"Yeah, but you've got a story to tell and I don't want to hear it over the phone. Besides, I've got to tell YOU what happened to ME," she answered with emphasis.

"Okay," Angie relented, "Give me 20 minutes."

"Sure, it'll take me almost that long to get there silly."

"K, bye."

Byeee!"

Angie set down the phone on her dresser and made a half-hearted attempt to make the bed and then scooped up her outfit and dumped it in the closet. Next, she stepped into the bathroom and started a shower.

As the hot water washed over her, the routine of soap and shampoo took on a long missed allure. She enjoyed looking at her body and rubbing her hands over it. She took an unusual amount of time running the loofah over and down between her breasts. She ran it down over her tummy, through her pubis with a satisfactory tingle, and then over her hip and around to rub on her ass.

Angie contemplated masturbating again but decided not to for fear of losing track of time. Nevertheless she was barely out of the shower and toweled off when the doorbell rang. She managed to throw on her robe before she heard a knock on the bathroom doorway. Jaime would always let herself in if the door was unlocked.

Jaime stood in the doorway, her short frame a stark contrast to Angie's height and long legs. A mixture of Indian and Thai, her dark brown skin and asian features contributed to the discrepancy between the two girls. In some ways, Jaime was the cause of Angie's recent lack of self confidence. Five years younger and gifted an ample bosom and a firm round butt, Jaime knew she was hot and she flaunted it. She kept her dark hair short and spiky with red streaks in it.

Of course, Jaime was also part of why she felt so good now. She had, after all, convinced Angie that she was sexy enough to wear that 'Angel' outfit and look great in it. Jaime was wearing a simple white cotton top and a pair of tight fitting jean capris. She smirked at Angie.

"Hey."

"Hey," Angie answered, shuffling past her. "Coffee?"

"Sure."

Five minutes later they were both sitting at Angie's kitchen table nursing warm mugs of joe.

"Okay," Jaime started, "You tell me your story and I'll tell you mine. What happened last night?"

Angie took a deep breath and sighed.

"Well..."

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The Devil In Her – Part 2

Angie frowned, “My dark prince?”

He smiled, “The Devil, Lucifer, Satan, Beelzebub, whatever… just no names.”

“Ahh…”

Angie took a sip of her drink as she contemplated the latest turn of events. What was he trying to hide? Why try to hide it? Maybe anonymity was simply the order of the evening. After all, she found herself extremely attracted to him. She couldn’t dismiss him yet. She was curious to know what he had in mind.

“Okay Dark Prince,” she said with a tinge of sarcasm, “What now?”

He paused a moment to look her over. It seemed as if he was weighing something heavy in his mind.

“I’d like to go for a walk – talk for a bit.”

“A walk?” Angie answered, a bit surprised, “Well I can’t just leave my fr…”

“I’ll bring you right back,” he interrupted with a smile.

“Well… it is a bit cold out…”

“I’ll keep you warm,” he interrupted again.

The simple suggestion of him doing so, warmed her cheeks immediately. She could feel that warmth spreading from another place on her body as well.

Here she was being asked to disappear into the night with a dark, handsome masked stranger. She had only met him a minute ago. Alarm bells should have been ringing in her head right and left with images of rape and murder. Instead, she only pondered the opportunity to get closer to him, to feel his embrace, to learn his secrets.

“Okay, but just a quick walk,” she answered with a hesitancy that belied her true excitement.

“Excellent.”

With a swift motion, he downed the rest of his drink and set it down. He stood away from the bar and offered his arm to Angie.

“Shall we?”

Angie smiled and took his arm, secretly delighted at the prospect of embracing him, even if only in this simple way. Arms linked, they made their way from the bar and out the door into the downtown scene that loomed just beyond. His friends watched him and Angie leave the bar with no concern apparent on their faces as to who she was or where he was taking her.

As they stepped outside, the cool night air confronted Angie, causing her to immediately seek the shelter of his arms. He obliged willingly, extending his arm and ample cape around her shoulder. Angie, couldn’t help but sigh contentedly. Despite the bizarre situation she found herself in, she felt comfortable.

They walked slowly down the street, passing one bar-front after another. The night was alive with the sounds of car stereos on the cruise, late-night vendors hawking their food wares, and the shouts of laughter from the hodgepodge of drunken Marti Gras partiers. Angie smirked at the girls who went bouncing by her. Bedecked in numerous party beads atop crumpled shirt-tops that were stretched and distorted from multiple liftings, the girls seemed proud of their bounty – a testament to their own promiscuity. A brief thought of Jaime flashed through Angie’s mind and was dismissed just as quickly in favor of nuzzling closer to the dark stranger who confidently marched her down the sidewalk. For his own part, he seemed to ignore everyone else completely.

After walking a couple blocks in silent embrace, they took a turn off the main drag heading towards the business district. As the cacophony of vehicles, vendors, and gluttonous vagrants slowly died down behind them, Angie began to get worried.

“Where are we going?”

He motioned over to a small park clearing in front of a nearby tall office building.

“Just over here. I thought we might sit and talk for a bit where it is quieter.”

Angie half-turned and looked behind her. They wouldn’t be very far off the beaten path.

“Okay,” she nodded.

They crossed the street and entered the clearing nestled in the shadow of the skyscraper behind it. It wasn’t much – just a patch of grass, some bushes, a few leafy trees, and a couple park benches. Compared to the din they just left behind, it seemed quite pleasant.

The stranger took off his cape, and half draped it over a bench. He held it up for her and motioned for her to sit on it. She did and he draped the rest of it over her shoulders, enveloping her in it’s velvety warmth. He straddled the bench and sat right up next to her, placing a gentle hand on her thigh.

“You know,” he began, “you are beautiful. I was drawn to you the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Angie blushed, not sure how to respond. Instead she looked up into his hazel eyes, nearly obscured in the recesses of his mask. Perhaps they contained the key to his mystery. He was unflinching in returning his gaze. There was a darkness to his eyes. Something haunted lurked within them, yet he didn’t try to hide it. Instead, his eyes invited her to peer into them. While she couldn’t know his name, she was welcome to see his nature. He was conflicted, but confident and strong. There was no malice in him, yet a subtle weariness in his visage suggested that it had every right to be.

The intensity of their eye-contact overwhelmed Angie and she wistfully turned her head away.

“You brought me all the way here just to say that?” she asked, half-kidding.

“No,” came his assured reply.

Then his hand drifted up off of her lap, a finger trailing in the folds of the cape as he delicately traced the contours of her ensconced body up to the nape of her neck. Gently, he turned her chin back towards him and slowly leaned inward. He angled his head so his mask wouldn’t rub against hers and paused. His lips were just an inch away from her own, waiting to see if she would turn away again.

She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. She wanted nothing more in that moment than to feel his lips against hers, to taste his essence, to finally see if he had the spark to unleash the fire kindling within her.

After a moment of agonizing anticipation, his lips met hers. He was very gentle, only barely grazing her lips with his. It partly seemed as if he was teasing her, she wanted to drink him in so badly. Yet at the same time, she could sense there was a danger in going too far too soon. He was in control, and if she was patient, she would learn the full extent of his passion.

His lips were wet, full, and blissfully warm. Like a key set into a lock, they slid perfectly into the crook of her own lips. She could feel the heat welling up in her instantly from their contact. Suddenly, the warmth of the cape was stifling. He lingered only for a moment, then just as slowly and deliberately pulled away. The thinnest strand of dew bridged their lips for a moment, maintaining their erotic connection, and then fell away.

“Mmm…” she cooed.

As she opened her eyes again, she found him still staring intently at her.

“I want to show you something… something special,” he said.

Anything... Everything... Show me everything!

“What is it?” she asked, representing only a mild curiosity.

He stood up and extended his arm to her. Curious and excited, she reached out her hand and took his. He helped her to her feet and then stood behind her and collected his cape from her shoulders.

“I’ll need this back.”

Despite her newfound warmth, Angie shivered as the cold air tickled her naked shoulders. She half-turned and watched as her prince deftly donned his cape in one swift motion. He then stepped up to her and placed an assured hand on her back.

“Where are we going?” she asked as they set off from the bench.

“You’ll see,” he said gesturing towards the building before them. Then almost as an afterthought, he added, “Trust me.”

The stranger marched her confidently up the steps of the building, through the spinning doors, and into the foyer. The security guard lounging at the front desk stood immediately.

“Um, I’m sorry folks but we don’t allow…”

The dark prince produced a shiny silver and black card from his pocket and held it up for the security guard to inspect.

“Go right ahead. Elevator 1 is available.”

Without another word, the stranger urged Angie to step past the security desk and towards the elevators. The security guard immediately resumed lounging behind the desk as if nothing had happened.

A thousand questions flooded Angie’s mind, but she stayed silent. Her own curiosity drove her on and she secretly feared that saying anything now might make him change his mind about where he was taking her.

The elevator door opened as they approached it and they quickly stepped inside. He brandished the card again and slid it into a slot above the numbers on the elevator panel. A chime sounded and he withdrew the card and pocketed it once again. The doors of the elevator slid closed.

Angie gazed at the stranger. She was fearful and excited about what might happen next. She sensed something dark about his character, but did not fear him. He turned to her and spoke.

“When we arrive, follow my lead. Do not speak unless spoken to. Do not take any action without invitation. Above all else, remember that you are here of your own free will and can leave at any time. If you desire to leave, simply tell me and I will escort you back to where we met. Do you understand?”

Angie’s mind raced with all of the possibilities that might occur. What sort of situation was he suggesting? Where were they going? What had she gotten herself into? His droll statement had heightened her excitement, but also filled her with dread. Her only saving grace was that he had promised to bring her away if she was uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure that she trusted him, but she felt comfortable enough to believe that what he said to her was true.

Angie nodded her head. Clearly contented with her affirmation, he smiled and stepped behind her. Leaning in close, he whispered into her ear.

“You are going to have incredible fun.”

And just then, the elevator doors opened.


“And…?”

“Well,” Angie paused, “I’m not sure I should tell you the rest…”

Jaime frowned, “Are you KIDDING me? You can’t start telling me a story like that and then just stop!”

“Well…” Angie trailed off and then sighed.

Visibly stalling, her eyes roamed around the room and then she hid behind her mug as she took a slow deliberate sip of her lukewarm coffee.

“Angie!” Jaime raised her voice, clearly frustrated.

“Well it’s just that…” still stalling, Angie searched for the appropriate words, “Well, it got a little weird.”

“Even better!” Jaime responded, “Now tell me!”

“Alright, alright…”

Angie took a long deep sigh and tried to remember all of the details about what happened next.

“Okay, so the elevators opened…”

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The Devil in Her – Part 3

As the doors parted, Angie could hear a quartet churning out an upbeat jazz tune. The pleasant music was accompanied by a cacophony of voices. She peered out of the elevator and spied a lavishly decorated lounge. Directly in front of her was a short series of steps leading down to a recessed dance floor filled with costumed party-goers. To the right was a small stage where a tux wearing piano player was perched in front of an ebony grand. Behind him sat three other musicians in masks playing coolly along with the piano lead. To the left was an elegant marble-topped bar decorated above with rows of hanging crystal stemware. As she glanced across the lounge, she could see a seating area with plush black and white chairs, chaise lounges, and matching floor cushions. Beyond were tall windows that looked out onto the city lights below.

The lounge was decorated in a vivid Mardi Gras theme. Multicolored Streamers hung from the ceiling. There was confetti and glitter everywhere. Intricate decorative masks were hung on the walls and laid upon the counter tops. There were glazed ceramic statues prominently posted throughout the lounge. Each statue depicted one or more jesters posing lewdly with naked or nearly-naked women.

The costumes of the party attendees matched the lavishness of the environs. Angie could see feathers, ribbons, stockings, and plenty of skin everywhere she looked. All faces were obscured by decorative masks and each costume seemed designed to simultaneously project an air of elegance along with a sinful dose of sensuality. It was as if a sample platter of ornate Vegas show outfits had been arranged before her. Some attendees were sitting at the bar, some were sitting in chairs or lying on pillows on the floor, and others were dancing out on hardwood in front of the stage. A disco ball swiveled lazily over the proceedings, casting shards of multicolored light everywhere.

Her prince stepped confidently out of the elevator with a flourish of his cape. The band went silent and the majority of the audience turned to face him. An abrupt hush fell over the proceedings and a palpable wave of anticipation rolled towards the elevator doors as the masked faces turned to watch the caped figure standing on the precipice. With a beaming smile, he turned towards her and extended his arm - clearly inviting her to step out of the elevator.

Angie shivered at the prospect of his invitation. What had been a simple quiet elevator had transformed into a catapult waiting to launch her before a crowd of masked strangers. Her own trepidation about the skimpiness of her costume multiplied as she contemplated stepping into the limelight. What was her escort doing? Did he intend to ridicule her, to make her look the fool? Had she been horribly wrong in trusting him and allowing him to bring her here?

She stared at him, halfway in resentment and halfway in dire need of reassurance. It only took a moment of peering into the haunting recesses of his mask before her hesitation began to melt away. His eyes commanded her. He would not be denied. She realized that when he had told her to trust him, this was exactly why he had said to do so.

Taking one final deep breath, she stepped out of the elevator and took his hand. His smile brightened as her hand went into his - clearly savoring a small victory on his part. He then held her hand up and turned towards the assembled audience.

"Ladies and gentleman! May I present to you, my angel!"

The crowd immediately broke into applause.

Angie's eyes scanned the masked faces beaming at her. She was not used to being put on the spot like this, especially in front of a crowd of enshrouded strangers. Her only saving grace was the fact that her date was standing there with her, clearly proud of the moment.

After what felt like an eternity of scrutiny, the applause subsided and her escort guided her down the steps to the dance floor. They were met immediately by a tall blonde woman in a red bustier with matching stockings and mask. She addressed Angie directly.

"Good evening. May I take your coat and cell phone?"

Angie looked over at her prince for confirmation. He nodded.

"My cell phone?" she asked the vermillion attendant.

"Don't worry, it will be safe," she smiled, "We prefer to avoid any outside distractions tonight."

Her prince was already helping Angie out of her white bolero coat. Once it was removed and draped over his arm, he gingerly reached for her purse and handed both to the attendant. Dumbstruck, Angie watched as the girl winked at the stranger and sashayed off with her belongings.

Without saying another word, he ushered her across the dance floor and up the shallow steps to the bar beyond. Angie could feel the eyes of many masked strangers casually watching her. Her prince seemed oblivious to the stares, or at least unconcerned. Pulling out a padded leather chair, he encouraged her to take a seat at the bar.

"Two please," he said to the bartender, a tall brunette dressed in the same outfit as the attendant who had taken her purse. She winked at him and set about combining a flurry of different liquors into a tall silver shaker. The final result was an ice-cold glass rock full of a thick black liquid. A final flourish of what appeared to be liquid nitrogen gave the two drinks a cloudy head of overflowing vapor.

The prince took the neighboring seat and set one of the drinks in front of Angie.

"This is a special drink of mine I call the Devil's Promise. Dark and alluring, but hiding something sinister."

"Sinister?" Angie responded in half-feigned alarm. "And what 'sinister' thing did you put in my drink?"

He laughed. "Oh, there's nothing sinister in the drink itself, just behind it."

"In other words, you?"

"Exactly," he smiled while picking up his glass, "Cheers."

Mimicking his motion, Angie scooped up her glass which was quite cold to the touch. The frothy fog left a trail through the air as she raised the drink to her lips. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her date shotgun his drink in two gulps. She did the same.

The cold liquid slid past her lips like quicksilver. The taste was rich and sweet with a hint of licorice. As soon as the first gulp washed down, she felt an urgent need to consume the rest of the drink as if it were a cool glass of water after a long day in the sun. Once it hit her belly, she felt a warm sensation radiate outward until she was awash in a pleasant buzz.

"Mmmm..." she intoned, "Alluring indeed."

"I thought you might like that," he smiled as he set his empty glass down.

Feeling much more comfortable, she leaned into him. "So tell me, what did you mean by announcing that I am your angel? Why did everyone clap?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he answered, "I mean, look at you... clearly you fell from heaven."

Angie smirked at him, making it clear that his reply was unsatisfactory. "Come on! I've come this far with you. Clue me in here a bit."

He paused for a moment and then sighed, "It's not that complicated really. The people I work for host this party every year. As you can see, it is a pretty high production-value affair, but even this can get boring without a little... improvisation. So I decided at the last minute to see if I could find myself a date and here you are."

Angie found his explanation surprisingly plausible - almost depressingly so.

"And what about the whole angel/devil thing?"

"Well, I'd call it a coincidence, but that trivializes the whole affair in my mind. I prefer to think of it as fate. Here I am dressed as a Devil wandering the streets at night in search of a beautiful woman and who do I find but the yin to my yang? The good to temper my own inherent evil - a lovely angel dressed in white and all alone. I couldn't resist the irony, much less your beauty. I was drawn to you."

Angie was blushing now. Perhaps it was the drink she had just consumed, but she suddenly felt very warm.

"Well if I am your angel, then clearly it is my duty to make sure you behave tonight," she teased him.

"Oh hardly!" came his immediate response. "Tonight is Mardi Gras, the night of sin! Even Heaven turns a blind eye to the doings of mortals on this day. If you truly did come down from Heaven my angel, it wasn't to police me. Instead, it was to be seduced by the Devil on the one day there won't be any consequences for doing so!"

"Oh?" Angie smiled, "So who's seducing who then?"

He simply smiled and stood up from his chair.

"Care to dance?"

"Of course," Angie smiled as she took his hand.

He led her out onto the dance floor right as a slower song began to play. He immediately pulled Angie in close and she willingly wrapped her arms around his neck. She felt wonderful. Here she was with a strong, charming, and evidently successful man dancing at a much more glamorous party than where she had started. She wasn't sure if there was something in that drink or not, but either way it served as an excuse to drop her inhibitions and simply enjoy herself fully. She let her head rest on his shoulder and purred softly as he ran his hands slowly up and down her back. She took deep breaths through her nose, reveling in his manly, musky scent.

They danced like this for several minutes while the song played out. When it was over, Angie turned and saw an older woman take the stage with a microphone in hand. She wore an elaborate black gown that was see-through in parts and hugged her well-kept figure. The collar of her dress was stiff and tall, giving her a very regal appearance. Her face was adorned with an ornate black mask featuring large black feathers that sprouted out from the top and sides.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she began, "It is now eleven o'clock - one hour before our reveling must be complete. As is our tradition, I invite all of our lovely ladies tonight to partake of the beads. I have instructed our hostesses to distribute them to you."

Angie looked around and noticed several of the devil-costumed hostesses walking around with silver trays. On each of these trays was piled a collection of ornate beads.

"This year I am pleased to offer hand-carved and lacquered maple beads created exclusively for this occasion. When you get yours, take a moment to admire the individual carvings on each bead. I think you will agree that the craftsmanship is exquisite. As a result, you may deem it necessary to demand more of your suitor before parting with them. Ladies, you know what to do."

With that, the woman left the stage and women in the crowd began taking the beads from the hostesses.

"What's going on?" Angie asked her prince.

"Watch. You'll see."

Angie watched as all of the ladies in the lounge made their way to the dance floor to collect their beads from the hostesses. One of the devil-costumed women approached Angie with a nearly depleted plate of beads, clearly offering her the chance to take one. She stared at it wistfully, unsure of what accepting one might mean. Before she could make a decision to take one, the decision was made for her. Her devil, the dark prince claimed a ring of beads from the plate and stepped behind her - clearly meaning to place it over her head. She sighed a silent curse to herself but did not resist. This was clearly part of why he brought her here. She would have to see this through and learn where it lead.

As the draping beads passed over her eyes and settled around her neck, she could feel his hands running through her thick raven hair, gently moving it out of the way so that her new necklace sat prominently on her neck. Compared to the flashy plastic trinkets she had already collected from Jaime, the drab but highly ornate wooden beads made a telling contrast: elegance and tradition versus kitsch and trendy.

Angie turned and faced her man. Slowly scanning her sultry eyes up into his, she dared him to show her what would happen next. Again, he met her stare with a steely, confident resolve. It was dawning on her that she might never shift his demeanor, but he seemed to be shifting hers with each moment that passed. He turned away and gestured towards the landing up the stairs behind them. In front of where the seating area was, two regal high-backed chairs had appeared.

"Our appointment is ready. Shall we?" he extended his arm once again.

Each bold step she took out of her own comfort zone seemed to earn the entreaty into another larger step. Yet she would step anyway. What new adventure loomed next? She assured her timid self with the realization that the chairs might be better than being on the floor - especially considering the things that might happen next.

To obscure her frantic desire to retreat from the dance floor, she steadily extended her arm to meet his. He accepted it and they turned. Hand in hand, they stepped deliberately off the floor and up to their appointed seats. Continuing his gentlemanly ways, he held the chair for her as she sat down and then scooped up his cape before descending into his own chair.

Angie leaned over to him and whispered, "So are we king and queen of the prom now?"

"Oh, I'd like to think we're presiding over something better than that," he replied without skipping a beat.

"I suppose these chairs are a coincidence as well?" she smirked at him. "What other 'coincidences' do you have planned?"

"Shhh... just watch," he commanded.

Angie turned her attention to the dance floor. She saw multiple women strutting around wearing beads. Men would come up to them and talk to them, clearly negotiating in some fashion. She noticed one woman smile and nod at a male suitor. She continued to watch as they stepped off of the dance floor and proceeded to the sitting area. She then took a seat and he stepped behind her and began massaging her shoulders.

Angie turned her attention back to the dance floor and saw one male performing a striptease in front of a costumed female. Her eyes scanned further and settled on another man licking and sucking the elongated neck of another party-goer. She let her eyes wander again and her jaw dropped as she spied one man dropping his pants and waving around a partially-erect and apparently gigantic appendage in front of a giggling masked older woman.

Each action was rewarded with an exchange of beads. Victorious, the men proceeded to proposition other women. Some were clearly working to earn more beads. Others were trying to entice the women to earn the beads back. It became apparent to Angie that whoever had beads could request 'favors' from those who did not. Soon thereafter, Angie was able to observe women 'earning' beads. Some were topless. Others were performing lap dances. Others were engaged in passionate kisses with men or with other women for the amusement of the men.

Angie found herself becoming aroused watching the scene unfold before her. Each act to secure beads was sexual or flirtatious in nature. She didn't see any obvious acts of oral sex or penetration yet, but there was plenty of nudity and friendly groping. The sexual tension in the room was building. She turned over and looked at her prince. He sat regally in his chair passively observing the events before him.

She turned back towards the dance floor and gasped when she saw that a topless masked man was standing before her, beads in hand. His torso was tan and impressively muscled. His pristine white smile was immediately disarming.

"M'lady," he began while holding up his necklace, "I offer my beads for the chance to please you."

Angie's mouth worked up and down, but no words came out. She had no idea what to say to the sculpted Adonis before her. She turned to her prince, hoping for some clue as to how to proceed. He simply nodded, seemingly content to let her handle the situation however she saw fit.

She turned back towards the man before her and gave him a half-hearted smile. She didn't really want his beads, but sensed that it would be rude to turn him away. She surmised that any small task would please him. Thinking quickly, she sat up in her chair and tried to assume the most commanding pose she could muster. She extended her arm towards him, palm down.

"You may kiss my hand."

She feared that her offer might be too token for him, but his face showed only glee. He gathered his beads in one hand and then knelt before her, gingerly taking her hand into his own.

"May I remove the lady's glove?" he asked, looking into her eyes pleadingly.

Angie briefly wondered how many more concessions she might have to make before the night was through, but didn't see a good reason to deny his request.

"Yes."

He then set about carefully pulling each of the fingers loose before gently sliding the entire glove off her arm. He then took her naked hand in both of his and leaned forward to place a soft loving kiss on the back of her hand. His ginger touch and obvious enthusiasm was enough to send goosebumps racing up her arm. He then turned her hand over and placed the glove in her palm. Next, he stood up and offered his beads to her. Sensing that he meant to place them on her himself, she leaned forward slightly. With a smile, he slowly draped the beads over her neck and stepped aside.

Behind him stood another man with beads in hand. And then another, and another. Angie turned to her prince seated next to her for some indication of what to do next. He gave none.

"M'lady, I offer my beads for the chance to please you."

She offered him the chance to kiss her cheek. He did so gleefully and just as sensually as the man before him. She noticed that he smelled good.

The next man got to kiss her foot, reveling in the chance to slowly unzip her boot. He then ran his hands slowly from the top of her calf down as he lifted her leg to his lips - more goosebumps.

She became more bold with each subsequent suitor, willingly testing the bounds of her newly discovered power. Her other glove and boot came off. Then she tasked a man with putting her gloves and boots back on. Accumulating too many beads to wear, she tasked another man with holding them for her.

It wasn't only men in line. There were women too. The first was an extremely tall blonde with never ending cleavage. She demanded a kiss on the lips and was rewarded with a soft, wet, and tasty one. Another girl, a shorter redhead was instructed to suckle on her earlobe. Angie savored the girl's sweet perfume as she used her tongue to draw Angie's earlobe into her mouth. Angie cooed as she felt the girl's glossy lips work back and forth.

One by one, the suitors came to her and were granted a small token of her sexual affection. Angie was extremely turned on and she was sure it was no secret. Each suitor clearly sought to seduce her in whatever small way she allowed. Each sigh and moan elicited from her was met with giddy wide grins.

After a torrent of requests, she looked up and noticed that her first suitor had returned with another set of beads. Determined to give him a better reward than last time, she stood up and turned her back to him. She spread her legs slightly and bent over, placing her hands on the armrests of the chair before her. Turning her head, she looked over her shoulder at him.

"Kiss my ass."

She got the reaction she was hoping for. His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. She realized too late that her instruction might be open to a wider interpretation than she had intended. Turning her head back, she stared into the eyes of her prince, almost daring him to disapprove. Instead he looked on, eyes alight with a slight grin curving the corner of his lips.

The Adonis placed his hands on either side of her thighs, running them slowly upward around the curves of her ass pushing her miniskirt out of the way. Her naked butt was now exposed to the entire crowd behind her with only the thin fabric of the thong pushed up between her cheeks providing any coverage.

He then slowly brought his hands back over the curves of her ass until they met where her cheeks parted. He gripped her buttocks and spread her cheeks apart. Angie gasped as the cool air tickled her exposed crevasse. The Adonis then leaned in close, placing his nose just above the pinched fabric of her thong and took a long slow breath inward.

If it had been any other night or any other situation, Angie would've felt so violated that she would've lost control. She would've screamed, kicked, punched, and tried to run away. Instead, she felt warm. She was a queen tonight and now she was letting her favorite suitor know just how turned on she was. In any other moment, the thought of someone smelling her like this would've been mortifying. Instead, she could only imagine how wonderful the mixture of the juices leaking from her sex, the sweat, and even the heady aroma of her dirtiest part must seem to him.

He held his breath for a moment, as if he was trying to forever transfix her scent into his memory. Then he let it out with a satisfied sigh. Next Angie felt a finger loop around the edge of her thong and expertly pull it aside. Angie closed her eyes and held her breath. A moment later, his lips settled onto her sphincter. He did not linger. After a simple gentle kiss, he withdrew - replacing her thong and pulling her miniskirt back down.

Angie stood frozen for a moment, sorting her lingering discomfort from the waves of pleasure now washing over her. She had almost orgasmed when he kissed her. She could still feel the quivering of her sex radiating outward over the rest of her body. It was so dirty, so naughty, so... good.

Regaining her composure, she turned around and smiled at him. He looked extremely pleased and smiled even wider as he offered his beads to her. She took them from his hand and scanned the crowd before her. There was nobody left in line, yet everyone was watching. They were enthralled, and maybe just a bit jealous of her Adonis.

A quick scan of the necks in the room quickly brought Angie to the conclusion that she now possessed all of the beads. Was that the point of this whole exercise? She turned to her prince and gave him an inquisitive look. He smiled.

"Very good my Angel. Now all you have to do... is give them back."


"Oh my god, you're such a slut Angie!"

"Jaimie!"

Angie wasn't really stunned by her friend's outburst, considering how dripping with sarcasm it was. Yet, she couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as some small voice within her insisted on agreeing with Jaime.

"Oh, come on! You know I'm only teasing you. But my god! You had WAY more fun than I did last night!"

Having lived through the experience herself, Angie wasn't so sure.

"You think so?" she asked.

Jaime blew a raspberry at her and frowned in mock jealousy. "Oh absolutely! It's like last night came out of some artsy porn flick!"

"Ha! Whatever," Angie scoffed.

Jaime scooted her chair closer to Angie and leaned onto the table towards her. "Okay, so tell me. What happened next? Did you end up the centerpiece in some giant orgy?"

"Well..."

Jaime frowned, "There's no use in being coy now. Spill it!"

"Actually, I don't really remember what happened next."

"Bullshit!"

Angie shook her head, "No really... the next thing I remember was waking up in his limo..."

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The Devil In Her – Part 4

Angie felt a mild hum coming through the cool leather pressed up against her face. Her eyes fluttered open to a fuzzy blur of flashing lights. As her mind began to focus, she realized she was leaning against a leather seat looking out a car window.

She moaned and tried to sit up.

"Ah, you're awake," came a slightly muddled, yet familiar voice.

Angie wiped her eyes and looked over her shoulder. She was sitting in a large, well-appointed limo. Next to her sat her devil, still in cape and mask.

As the recent memories of the evening came flooding back, she sat bolt upright in the seat. Frantically, she began inspecting her clothing and searching for her purse. She felt a modest relief when she realized she was still fully in costume, mask and all. Her wandering hand easily settled on the small white purse which sat next to her.

"Where am I? What happened?"

He smiled, scooted over, and placed a tender hand on her nervous thigh. "Nothing to worry about my dear. You passed out."

"Passed out?"

"Fainted, yes. I fear that the evening's festivities may have been a bit much and for that I apologize. When I saw you had lost consciousness, I scooped you up and called for my driver to pull the car around."

Angie couldn't believe it. "I... I fainted?"

"Yes. Everyone was most concerned about you but I assured them you would be alright. And here we are," he reached over to the limo bar and pulled out a glass and decanter of what appeared to be bourbon. "Can I offer you a drink?"

Angie shook her head, still a bit groggy. "No... thanks. Where are we going?"

The stranger calmly poured himself a glass and set the decanter back. "Are you sure? I have bottled water here as well."

Angie shook her head slightly and repeated herself, "No thanks. Where are we going?"

He smiled and handed her a bottle of water anyway. "Well take one just in case. The water will help if you're feeling light headed."

Relenting a bit, Angie snatched the bottle from his hands. Unperturbed, he continued, "As for where we are, we're currently going for a scenic drive. I didn't know where to bring you, so I thought it best to wait until you woke up."

Angie relaxed a little when she realized that he didn't appear to mean any harm. Perhaps she really had fainted. She couldn't recall fainting before, but then again, she'd never been in a situation like the one she had experienced that evening.

Her mind went back to the moments in the lounge, sitting in that regal chair. She remembered the way they had adored her, touched her, kissed her. She especially remembered the golden muscled man with long curly dark hair. She remembered the way she had bent over for him and then the way he... Goosebumps immediately rose from her skin. An almost imperceptible moan escaped her lips as she squirmed a bit in her seat.

Those lustful thoughts were all that was necessary to rekindle the fire in her loins. It had been boiling beneath the surface, only temporarily abated by the recent turn of events. She felt a rush of warmth spread from between her legs. Her body instantly reminded her how wet and hungry she was.

Angie realized she must still be woozy. How could she wake up in such a strange situation and almost immediately turn her thoughts to sex? Why was her body trembling with desire? Why did her eyes keep settling on the stranger's crotch? Why was her tongue salivating as she pondered if the apparent bulge in his pants was simply an odd fold of the cloth or something more? Why did her hand want to reach out and touch it to make sure?

She shook her head slightly, trying to push away the thoughts that were rapidly consuming her. Instead, she sat up and attempted to compose herself. One look into the stranger's eyes told her that her efforts were futile. He was practically smoldering.

"I should meet back with my friend."

"At the bar where we met?" he asked, sliding closer to her.

"Yes."

"That's probably not a good idea," he said placing his hand on her thigh again. "It's nearly 2 AM and the bars are all closing. The streets will be full of cops and drunkards. You should let me take you home."

"Home?"

"Yes. Home," he replied simply. His hand slowly moved up her thigh and caressed the tightly-pressed flap of her mini-skirt. He leaned in, placing his nose to the side of her neck. She instinctively turned her head to the side to grant him better access. His cologne teased her senses as she felt him take a long, deep breath.

"But, but, I don't live close," she stuttered. She noticed her free hand, as if possessed, sliding up his thigh.

"It's no matter," he said pulling back a bit so that he could face her and melt her eyes with the fire of his own. "I'm happy to do it."

Transfixed, she merely nodded - her hand still groping his side.

He moved his face back to the side of her head and hovered over her ear. "Where do you live?" he whispered, and then kissed his way softly down her neck.

She gasped and settled into a soft moan as she exhaled. Her hand trailed up his back. Her leg crossed over onto his. His hand quickly ran up the backside of her leg and under her skirt. She felt him caress and squeeze her butt and sighed appreciatively.

In a shuddering whisper, she told him her address. Then she felt him pull away from her. He looked at her briefly and gave her a reassuring smile before reaching over to the controls by the door. As she watched the divider between the cab and the driver lower, she moved her leg back down and tried to compose herself once again.

It was only a brief respite. She watched as her devil relayed the address to the driver and then commanded the divider to rise once again. A moment later, his hands were caressing her again. As he ran his hand down her right leg and massaged the curve of her butt, he leaned in so that his face was an inch from hers. His eyes were fixed on hers, purposeful and resolved.

His lips moved, and a whisper danced in her ear. “I am going to kiss you now. Would you like that?”

Angie briefly pondered why such a formality was necessary. Her whole body craved his touch and he must know that she was helpless to resist him. Perhaps he was really asking for much more than a kiss.

It didn’t matter what he wanted. She was his.

“Yes,” she whispered, opening her mouth slightly to offer her lips to him. “Please, yes.”

For the second time that evening, she felt his lips slide into perfect unison with hers. Unlike the first time, he did not settle for a simple touching of lips. Their initial contact was polite for only a moment before his lips turned and parted bringing hers willingly open as well.

A muffled moan escaped from Angie's lips as she felt his tongue snake out and dance with hers. Something about the taste of him seemed to satiate a burning need that she hadn't even been aware of before tonight.

Giving herself over to him, Angie slid down onto the leather seat eagerly allowing him to overpower her. Lips locked, he loomed over her. His hand continued to run up and down her thigh and over her butt.

They made out for several blissful moments that seemed to stretch into eternity. Then he suddenly broke off their kiss and loomed over her. By now she was nearly panting and took the respite to catch her breath. As she calmed herself, she looked up at him. He was staring directly at her, almost as if he was daring her to get lost in his eyes.

That was a challenge she took on willingly. She set herself to staring into the abyss of his hazel portals trying to divine the source of his power over her. He seemed as determined and confident as ever. As he continued to hold her transfixed in his gaze, his hand forcefully turned her legs out so that they were as open as her mini skirt would allow. Without any further pretense, his hand slid right up her leg. When he reached her panties, a solitary finger began slowly tracing back and forth across her wetness.

She gasped, but did not break his gaze. She feared that he might stop if she did. His finger continued to trace over the wet spot on her mound. She was so wet, that it wasn't long before his finger was tracing the crease of her lips and even pushing a bit of the soiled fabric up inside her.

He spoke to her. His gaze was still locked. His finger still sent waves of pleasure through her as he teased the soiled slippery patch of her panties. "Did you have fun tonight?"

She nodded ever so slightly, biting her lip. "Mmm hmmm."

"Do you like it when I touch you like this?"

"Mmm hmmm," she answered again.

His finger slid up slowly until it was pressing firmly against her clit. He then began to make small circular motions while maintaining slight pressure.

Angie gasped again. If he didn't stop soon, she was going to cum. She had started out the day as a good girl going to a party in support of her friend and now she found herself ravenous for sexual release and at the total mercy of a complete stranger. She knew that a more level-headed version of herself would be completely ashamed, but she didn't care. She wanted him to push her over the edge. She wanted it very badly.

"Do you want to cum for me?"

"Mmm hmmm," came her immediate, desperate reply.

"I can tell. Your pussy is so wet right now. I can feel how close you are."

His finger continued to rub on the same spot. Slow. Deliberate. Torturous.

"I bet you liked the way they worshiped you at the party. Touching every part of your body with such genuine affection."

His finger started moving faster, pressing harder.

"The way they took off your boots and kissed your feet. The way they licked your neck and sucked your earlobe..."

"Mmmm..."

Angie was determined to hold his gaze. She knew that she would never see further into his eyes, but if she came while he was staring into hers... He would know everything. She began to grind her hips against his hand. Whatever he wanted was his, just so long as he didn't stop.

His finger was moving at a fever pace now.

"I especially loved the way you presented your ass to him. The way you let him part your ass cheeks and smell you. The way you let him put his lips on your asshole..."

"Oh god! MMMmmmm...." Angie screamed and squirmed as the orgasm hit her. His finger maintained the same rhythm as it coaxed wave after wave of pleasure out of her throbbing love center. Her grip on his supporting arm became vice-like as she waited for the orgasm to subside.

Moments passed as he continued to stare at her. His finger had gone still and her breathing slowly returned to normal. His eyes seemed just as intense as before, but now there was a hint of affection in them as well. If it weren't for the mask covering his face, Angie could've sworn he was glowing.

Then his hand slowly slid out from underneath her skirt. He then deliberately lifted it up to her face, daring her to inspect it more closely. She knew what would please him and was eager to taste her own juices.

She guided his finger towards her mouth and gently licked it with her tongue before wrapping her lips around it and sucking on it. She lingered only for a moment - tasting the sweet juices of her sex - before she withdrew it again, purring happily.

By that time, she became more aware of her surroundings and realized that the limo had stopped. He pulled away from her and allowed her to sit up in the seat.

"Are we there?" she asked in a nonchalant manner that belied the fact that he had just fingered her to orgasm.

"Yes, I believe we are."

Angie knew what she wanted next and didn't see the sense in being demur about it.

"So, would you like to come in?"

"What for?" he responded with a sly grin.

"So we can finish what we've started."

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