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Angelus's Journal


Angelus's Journal

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7 entries this month
 

True Love

13:15 Apr 30 2007
Times Read: 1,057




There love was true, based as it was on trust. John was sure of that.

He realised she was there for him, while Janet knew he would provide for her; giving her the attention and affection she needed.

He was always there for her – as she was there for him: always at his side, when needed and theirs was a true love.



John was blind: and his Labrador Janet was faithful.

COMMENTS

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The Customer and the barmaid

13:11 Apr 30 2007
Times Read: 1,058


The customer stared into his second drink, and then looked up at the barmaid, an attractive blonde, who he’d learnt was Emma, aged 23, who enquired why he consumed whiskey after whiskey.

As he drank, he bemoaned, politely, his ex and the way in which they had ended their relationship, after four years together. At the end of his monologue, he asked her what she thought and Emma on the other hand had been able to offer the counter point of view.

She explained to him, as he drank that she too had finished with her partner after a period of four years, or so.

It was then that filled with curiosity, he asked her ‘why?’

“He couldn’t provide what I needed,” she told him, with a kind gentle smile.

And that made him think, for a while


COMMENTS

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Dressed to please?

23:54 Apr 26 2007
Times Read: 1,075


Fem dom (with some adult content.)





I awaited my Mistress with trepidation. I had dressed to please, or so I thought.

Finally You called me and I opened the door, to see You sitting on the sofa, legs extended. My eyes were drawn immediately to the thigh high boots on your shapely legs, which ended at the bottom of Your thighs. The flesh above there drew my eyes to the hem of your miniscule skirt.

Oh, but You look a dream Mistress, so relaxed, as you stare at me, wearing a slip, opaque tights and panties, worn tight across my erection.

“Lift your eyes,” You told me, as You uncrossed your legs and swung round to sit with your feet squarely on the floor.

“Come here, boy,” I am told.

I walk across to you, my arousal rising toward my belly, in lust both for my Mistress and for the moment.

“Come…” You tell me, patting the flesh about the right boot, as if to call, a pet.

I walked across the room, my eyes on Yours, pleased that you have chosen to assert Your affection and dominance over my submissive-self today.

I lay across Your lap, with an almost electric charge running through me, such was my desire at that moment.

Placing your left hand on my left shoulder, You lean forward, your breast pressing against my back as you do.

“I want your ass,” You’d told me.

You lifted my slip, pulled down my tight and panties, raising Your right hand and bringing Your hand down twice in rapid succession, causing me to gasp at the sudden impact of flesh upon flesh, causing me both pleasure and pain.

Finally, You sit back, staring down on your handiwork and my glowing flesh.

“I know you want to be fucked, don’t you?” You then said to me as I lay there excited, but wary, my body Yours to play with.

Yet I was curious as to what would be wanted of me.

I murmured my assent as You sucked at the tip of the middle finger on your right hand.

You drew the digit slowly across the crease of my arse cheeks, holding me in thrall with its sweet caress, finding pleasure, in the feeling of tenderness it crates within, right down to my groin.

I don’t want the caress to end, yet it does; as on a downward stroke, the finger enters my asshole, clear up to the first knuckle.

Then as my inner muscles contract against the welcome intrusion, I turn to look at You and the look of blissful concentration on Your face, as you gently fuck me.

Then You begin to toy with my left nipple with Your left hand, causing me to groan as You twist and turn the aching flesh, as a second saliva soaked digit enters my rectum and I arch my back, gasping with surprise and delight, discovers just how much I yearn for such penetration, by an understanding woman, such as You.

“Mine, to play with,” you mutter quietly and I turn my head, to look at You through half-lidded eyes to watch, as You sit with eyes closed, a dreamy expression on Your face, you fingers driving in and out my arse.

Impaled on Your fingers I am very aware of Your left hand on my neck, as the fingers twist and turn inside me, as you pinch my left nipple, very hard and I gasp with agonized pleasure.

“I can feel you hard against my leg. You’re going to cum, aren’t you?”

I know I am going to. I’ve wanted to enjoy being with you like this for ever-so long.

Now I am here, over Your lap, as You suddenly tug at my nipple even harder.

The pain and the pleasure You give me is exquisite: and as I feel those fingers pump in and out of me, I grunt with every thrust.

Finally, I climax, spilling my seed over the panties and slip.

And I gasp, as You draw those fingers from me.

I can’t help but groan at the void their loss creates.

“Now lick them clean.” I’m told as you present the soiled digits to my lips.

And I suckle upon those well-manicured fingers, eyes closed, as you draw me to you, holding me to You: and delighted to feel so-taken, now so very cherished.





COMMENTS

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"Are you gay"

13:30 Apr 24 2007
Times Read: 1,095


“Are you gay?” The young tousled haired teen asked me.

Dwarfed by his long black trench coat and rocker boots, he was a baby-Goth: slight of build, with not too much make-up on.

He had sat down to my right only minutes later.

I was on the Chester line, sitting in one of those groups of three inverted plastic egg-cup seats, you get on Hamilton Square underground station.

But his presence and question was surprising, to say the very least.

“Are you gay?” He asked again, with a wide smile on his face..

Although his questions were so personal, his sheer exuberance outweighed I’d quickly decided I liked his company.

“You ask your questions far too loud,” I assured him.

Momentarily abashed, the teen was quiet, for just a few seconds.

“Come on, you are, aren’t you?”

Was it my clothing or manner that had attracted him?

I wear brown leather: I’m slim, bit gaunt and wear what one acquaintance calls John Lennon gigs. And, I was curious..

“Why is my sexuality so important to you?” I queried.

“It’s all my friends fault, really.”

“Go on?” I prompted.

“Well,” he began in a conspiratorial tone, “I want to join in my mates games. And he’s a sub for a guy who pays him well. But, they won’t let me join in, ‘coz I’m innocent, he says.” His smile suddenly left his face as he finished talking and he suddenly looked very bashful.

“Well, okay. That’s a good story. But, what’s it got to do with me?” I asked.

“Well, they’ll let me join in.. but..”

“Go ead?”

“…well, my friends fella he says that I can join ‘em both when not so innocent. And you like me, don’t you?”

As the train came into the platform I became aware of his right hand on my thigh: and the look of almost imp-like fun in the youths eyes.

“You like me, go on admit you like me?” He said with a wide smile on his face.

I walked to the open doors with him tugging on my jacket-sleeve.

And-boy, did I feel self-conscious, of his youth and noise, as he continued to ask the same thing.

“Go on admit you like me?”

‘He would be hard to dislike,’ I thought quickly.

The carriage was almost half-full, but I managed to get a seat where I like: behind the driver’s compartment.

There’s been no-one else in the immediate seating, which was good, as it happens:

“My names Nick. But my best friends call me Nicky. I do hope you call me Nicky? He said all of this before he even sat, so enthused was the young man.

As it was, he chose to sit to my right, his right hand straight to my thigh.

I could take a hint.

“I want to know if you’ll take me?” He asked, in a quiet voice.

“Huh?”

“I want to know if you’ll take me?” He repeated.

Looking at the admiring look in his eyes, I could hardly refuse him. Could I?

“I’ll do anything you want. Anything.” He added.

“You’ll get off the station after next, with me,” I informed him: “If you want me to take you.”

And he’d smiled brightly my response, squeezing my thigh as he did so.

We got off the train the station before where I would normally get off; and instead of taking the left turn into the estate; we took the right, over the footbridge and into the woods.

I told Nick to go ahead and make sure we were alone and enjoyed a quiet cigarette, surveying my surroundings, as he did as I told him.

Finally he came back, looking pleased with himself.

“There’s no-one around!” He told me, looking very pleased.

So we began to walk on.

We walked down into the woods, where the green shadows turned black.

As we walked down the path I saw an almost puppy-like look to his eyes.

He wanted it: he wanted to be taken.

And, when we reached some bushes I knew would provide some seclusion, I drew him with me.

“Now Nicky, you did say you’d do anything for me, didn’t you?” I asked suggestively.

“Yes,” he told me, in a small quiet voice.

“Then undress for me,” I told him; “takes your clothes off, for me!”

He nodded his assent and began to strip, his body a gift for me to enjoy.

I lit a cigarette as he began to do as instructed, occasionally checking to see that I was watching him.

Then, once Nicky finished undressing, the young man stood before me in bra and panties, suspender-belt and fine hose.

Little Nicky simply smiled, drawing shaky hands away from the bulge in the panties.

With his long lashes, light mascara and lipstick, without his outer clothes and dressed as he was, Nick was very much Nicky.

I liked what I saw.

“Nice,” I muttered.

I’d been a little surprised, but: hey, any port in a storm eh?

“Sit down on the coat,” I instructed.

My mouth was hanging open as this image of girl sat down on the coat and crossed her legs, almost delicately.

"My, you do look pretty,” I told the young Goth, pretty in pink.

Then holding out my arms, Nicky looked into my eyes I enticed the endearing creature to my arms and we embraced and pressed my lips to the warm slender neck.

As my fangs punctured his flesh, so I could feed, I decided to turn Nicky and make the teen mine.

And when Nicky arose, I would tell her to be wary of strangers she might meet in the night.

I wonder if she’ll care?





COMMENTS

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Another visit with Emma Part 2

14:42 Apr 22 2007
Times Read: 1,108


The first half of this short adult-orientated had dealt with a lady entetaining her gentlman friend, in a submissive manner.

The second part of the evening is presented here, for a friends delectation.





*





Removing my hands from your panty-clad buttocks, they glide over your naked upper-thighs, downward and your nylon-clad legs.

You feel my arousal against your body. You’re moist.

“Fuck me Neil,” you want to say.

But, you do not.

You’d wanted the evening to be hot: and agreed to being my sex-slave, under instruction - allowed to speak only when spoken to, or required to.

And, I’d smoothed your skirt back into place, taking your face in my hands.

We’d kissed: my inflamed passion acting to increase yours, causing a tremor to sweep through you, from your head to moist cunt.

Then as the kiss finally ended, I told you to stand.

And you pleased me with your obedience, as you stood as instructed.

“Put some music on,” I’d told you: “then strip for me, nice and slow.”

You walked across to your sound system and put on ‘Lies.’

As ‘You’re Crazy’ began to play, you started by just shifting your weight from one foot to the other, and then back again, swaying gently from side to side.

Then you dipped your back, buttocks swaying gently back and forth, to music you’d chosen to dance to.

You turned your back to me and thrust your derriere toward me; and as it rose and fell to the music, I’d gazed, with delight.

And, turning once again, you’d really felt the music’s rhythm as you begun to undress: and I just sat there, my hands at my sides, staring at your lovely curves, as more flesh was unveiled as you danced, for me.

And, it’d the been the tight skirt you’d eased out of, that you dropped to my left, as you stripped to the music’s beat.

As ‘On In A Million’ began, you undid your shirt buttons one by one - parading the floor before me, flaunting your legs, body and smile; each button undone with measured ease, every movement guaranteed, to emphasise the tease.

You moved with wild abandon and I sat watching, as you shook your head in a circle, writhed and turned; then with a flourish, your long, lustrous, red hair cascaded loose and you shook it, whirling in a circle, twisting your hips.

And finally my redhead moved to the music in just black bra and panties, suspender-belt and fine black hose.

“Stop,” I told you, “stay as you are.”

You were breathless, with exertion; with excitement.

Dressed only in the lingerie you’re aware I like: your wet with expectation of a fuck. But I wanted more than just that.

“Turn round and hold the arms of that chair, head down, arse high – and, ready to play with,” I told you sternly, once you were stood before me, mine to enjoy looking at.

Once more you had pleased me with your acquiescence, as you do as instructed. Sitting forward a little, I licked my lips, taking pleasure in looking, just looking.

Although you are impatient for more, this was fused with your anticipation of what may happen next.

I stood, smiling, very aware of my arousal: almost painfully so.

And walking across the room I stood to your left: my right hand on your buttocks, my left caressing your hair and back.

I then unclasped your bra, cupping the full hanging left breast, taking pleasure in your sighs, as I grasped your left nipple twixt thumb and forefinger.

“Ohhhhhh..” you groaned, the sound increasing my arousal, still further.

I wanted to.. fuck, yet.. First there were those nylon black panties, which I eased over the curves of your buttocks and down your nylon-clad thighs to your knees with my right hand, as I continued the pressure on your nipple; hardening under my touch – as you’d enjoyed both pain and pleasure.

Then I took hold of the broad end of the short rubber stubby end of the plug: and slowly withdrew it.

“Ahhhhhh…” you sighed, as you felt a void deep inside, as the plug abandoned.

Letting the plug fall to the floor, I eased up on the pressure on her nipple; enjoying the added the thrill of watching your dilated sphincter muscles slowly closing.

“Now you’re ready,” I began, removing my fingers from your nipple.

“Uhhhhhhh..!” You groaned, your face pressed to the cushion, your red hair spread over you shoulders and neck.

I moved behind you, to kneel down, spreading your buttocks with eager hands.

Your anus opened, as I’d parted your fleshy globes: sphincter muscles opening, almost on their own accord, made ready by your use of the butt-plug.

And smiling briefly, admiring you, I leant forward and gently kissed your tender asshole. Then I began to use my tongue, as I licked you, taking pleasure in the slightly musky smell assailing my nostrils.

I’d slathered the hole with my tongue, backing away for a second, to watch the momentary dilation, before returning to tongue you some more.

The moment was pure heady animal lust: centred on your ass and I stood, to hold myself, the crown against your sphincter muscles, moistened with my saliva.

Then with my left hand on your hip, you felt the head of my cock pressing into your ass, anus stretching to accommodate it, even after the butt-plug.

I started to apply a gentle but firm pressure, slowly pushing deep into your rectum, not stopping until it was buried to the hilt.

You felt it go in, deeper and deeper, the pressure intense, at first, yet you accommodated me easily.

After all, you had been prepared.

Holding your hips, I began a slow-rocking motion at first, then a rhythmic pumping of flesh within flesh.

When I felt the tremor in my thighs and the tightness in my groin, I realized that I’d soon climax and shoot my load.

“Emma, I’m coming!” I told you loudly.

Then I’d withdrawn my hard self, covered in our juices, to shoot cum all over your backside.

As my cream puddled on your lower back, just above the suspender belt, at the base of your back: I scooped some of my cream on my fingers.

And you stood to embrace me, with your lips against mine: lips that I part with my cum-covered fingertips.

Finally I stand back from the embrace, to look at you and asked you a question:

“Now Emma, I need the bathroom. And you did mention that you’d not tried water sorts. How about now?”





COMMENTS

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Night Traveller

17:22 Apr 10 2007
Times Read: 1,156


In hindsight, I blame Doctor Strange. It was through him and Marvel Comics I read as a child that I’d learnt of astral travel. Then I’d seen a documentary about it on television, on BBC 2, I think.

Well, with my curiosity piqued, I’d begun my investigation into the subject.

At first I’d read every book in our local library. But, the material I’d found there was limited; so I’d gone to Liverpool and the reference section of The Central Library.

It was then I’d hit the web, to research the subject further still: and found enough there to begin my own experimentation.

All of that had been nearly a year ago and leads to last night, when I’d looked down at my body, seemingly asleep.

It’d been my third time on the astral plane, intersected with our reality.

I’d not previously travelled outside the confines of my bedroom, but ‘tonight I will’ had been my reasoning, as I’d passed through my bedroom wall and into the night air, easily enough.

At first I’d panicked at being so high from the ground. But, the sensation of flying had felt so exhilarating, it’s soon overcome my panic: and that’d been when I’d begun to float over my hometown of Bromborough in my intangible form of consciousness.

Although it was past closing time, well past it, there’d been several people out on the street, perhaps heading home.

I’d neared the Old Saxon cross in the middle of the village that I’d seen the couple arguing – both dressed, or undressed for a club night.

They’d been loud and irascible I’d found, but amusing to watch and follow awhile.

Then a brunette, short in height, had taken my attention; perhaps a Latino, walking by with what a friend of mine would call a black woman’s butt: full buttocks encased in coal-black jeans. Boy- had she looked good.

And for a while, I’d followed her as she had walked, her derriere a sheer fascination to me, as it seemed to undulate, with each step.

Yet as she’d passed the school I used to go to, the school that had become a ‘Learning Resource Centre’ I’d heard a scream.

Turning toward the sound, I’d decided to investigate. I should’ve left alone, as then I wouldn’t be in the quandary I am now. And looking back, I do wish I’d chosen some other night to venture further than my room. Yet as it happens, I’d decided that I’d investigate further. And when I’d heard a second scream, louder than the first.

I’d pin-pointed where it’d come from and made my way toward it, as fast as I were able to, then having found the house I passed through a bedroom wall.

Having found myself in a cold, dark room I’d quickly realized I had to look further.

So, I’d passed through one room, then across the landing into another.

This room was lit and illuminated a scene that will stay with me for a long time.

There’d been a large double bed dominating the middle of the room, with fitted wardrobe at the bottom, with mirrors embedded in each door.

I’d viewed the scene reflected at first, her long naked back as the she sat astride his prone body. She’d been straddling his belly, as he lay dying, a large gaping maw in his throat, oozing blood. In her right hand she’d still held the carving knife, it’s blade dripping with his blood.

“Now you won’t cheat on me,” I’d heard, as I’d moved a little closer in to hear her what she’d been muttering. That’d been when I’d left that room, my mind whirling with my discovery.

Now, I have a real problem. For having learnt what I have, how do I do something about it?

I mean, how on earth can I go to the police and explain how I found out what I had?







COMMENTS

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Another visit to Emma

17:21 Apr 10 2007
Times Read: 1,157


It’d been a message on VR that had prompted the rest that followed, the phone-call, the visit, all of it.

“What are you wearing?” was all I’d asked.

“Whatever you want..” you had responded, as I had learnt when I’d logged on the next day. And, throughout that day, as I did as I do, I’d awaited the evening and a message from you.

I’d waited awhile, looking for your picture to appear on the right of the screen: and finally it had.

Then, just as I’d finished clearing out my messages down to twenty-nine, it went up to thirty again: and I’d smiled. It was a phone number.

Reaching up with my left hand, I picked up the phone and dialled the number, to ask you the question, once again.

“A nightie, that’s all..” you’d replied breathlessly.

“I’d like to see that,” I’d told you.

“I’d like that ..and more Emma.” I had added.

“More?” You had queried.

“Uh-huh, I’d like..” And it’s when you hear what I want from you, you gulp, with rising excitement.

“If you want Neil ..Sir, you could call round..” you’d said and then given me the address, which I’d noted down ready to use the next day.

So I had travelled to see you, anxious to see whether you’d be as obedient as you’d sounded.

Once you’d opened the door to me, I’d taken you in my arms.

“The neighbours!” You’d hissed in my ear, closing the front door.

“Fuck the neighbours,” I’d told you: “It’s you I’m here to fuck..”

I grin at my own humour.

“Just tell them your cousin called today.”

I’d slid my right hand beneath your skirt and caress your nylon-clad legs, working my way upwards to fondle your buttocks.

With my left hand cradling the back of your head I’d drawn you further in to me.

Your heart had skipped a beat as I leant in and kissed you on the lips. It was a long, lingering kiss, deeply passionate and demanding, unlike anything you’d ever experienced before.

You’d been so startled by it’s insistence that you melted as I took possession of you mouth with mine, as my right hand continues its journey.

“You did as I ask. Good girl..” I whisper, as I push the nylon panties between your buttocks.

You had looked down and blushed at my praise, aware that I wanted to known more of your obedience.

“Do you want a drink?” You had asked as we parted from our embrace.

“How about a drink and a sit down? After all, you have travelled quite a way to, see me.”

I’d smiled as you’d said the last two words, as you knew why I was there; to see what you wore, for me; and, to see how obedient you really are.

And I’d followed, as you’d led me through to the lounge, where I sat on the sofa, as you poured me a whiskey, which I accepted with a grin.

“Turn round,” I’d told you, pleased that you do as instructed as readily as I want.

There is a radio playing music, somewhere within my earshot and I listen, as you stand before me, your derriere the focus of my attention.

“Now, pull up your skirt!” I’d told you.

And you’d done, as I wanted, full of anticipation for the next moment: and your panty-clad bottom, framed by the suspenders is aching for my touch.

My right hand had moved over the back of your right calf and a chill ran down your spine, as my fingers had reached the flesh at the top of your stocking.

Yet, the quest had ended, not till my fingertips were beneath the nylon of you panties, drawn taut across your arse cheeks.

Finally after learning what I wanted, I finished my drink in a gulp.

“Kneel at my feet I’d instructed simply.

Turning back toward me, you had knelt down on the floor before me.

As you did, the motion caused your skirt to rise up, revealing pink panties already moist at the crotch.

"I have something for you," I had said, grinning at you.

While my left hand held the back of your head tightly, keeping you from moving away, my right went to the zipper on my trousers.

You stared with obvious interest, at the rigid pole of flesh that was pulled out through the open zipper, and the thought of what I had expected you to with it made you feel suddenly giddy with pleasure.

Your hands were trembling as you had reached up and took the base of the pulsing flesh between your fingers and began to stroke up and down, slowly at first, then faster, keeping up a smooth, steady rhythm. I had enjoyed your attentions Emma and your willingness to please.

My eight inches of circumcised flesh had awaited you lips, already open; and I pull your face toward it.

"Kiss it, Emma," I had instructed. "Put your soft, sweet lips on it."

You had bent forward and planted a big, juicy kiss on the head of my erect self, feeling it throb against you lips in response.

"Suck it, girl," I had sighed with pleasure. "Suck me off."

You had opened your mouth and let my flesh slide between my lips.

You gave me pleasure at first by letting your tongue caress my warm erect cock slowly, as you drew it in and out of your mouth.

But when I began to respond, tensing and trembling with my rising climax, you tried harder, licking and sucking and jerking your head up and down, cramming me into your moth as I grasped the sides of you head, so as to aid my fucking, your mouth; your face.

Suddenly I had shuddered and gasped, and you’d felt my organ quiver. Then my erection throbbed violently, once, twice, again, and you had felt a warm, sticky fluid with a salty taste erupt inside your mouth. You had swallowed as quickly as you could and sucked every last drop from the tip of my cock before finally letting the limp but satisfied penis fall from your lips.

“Good girl,” I had murmured, settling back into the couch, my hands cupping your arse cheeks, as I drew you to me.

And I’d raised you skirt again, to ensure that the butt plug was still in place: the one that I’d told you to wear, for me.



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