Author: Virtual Scott
Title: Lloyd's Angel
Part: 7 of 18
Summary: Lloyd discovers he has the ability to influence others with his mind;
can he think with his head instead of his cock as he struggles to control
his gift and come to terms with its ethical implications?
Keywords: MF mc

Lloyd's Angel: Angela's Other Life

November 2010

I didn't remember drifting off, but I realized the office was quiet except
for soft breathing. The familiar tangle of glistening spun silk hovered
above me in my mind's eye, and I opened my eyes to find Angel crouched
over me, looking intently into my face from mere inches away.

She was completely naked, covered with sweat and feminine nectar, and
exuded a musk that completely overwhelmed her usual perfume. Her hair hung
in disarray around our faces like a curtain, shielding us from the rest of
the world. We kissed without saying a word, the sort of deep lip lock that
stole your breath away without being aggressive.

"I missed you," I told her when I could speak again, and watched the smile
spread across her face. "How were the girls?"

"Needy," she replied a touch unevenly. "You know, women can cum a lot more
often than men." I reflected on what that meant to somebody who climaxed
every time her partner did. "I swear two of them were multi-orgasmic,"
Angel continued, "but it wasn't -- satisfying. I missed you, too." Her
hand drifted to my fly. "I missed having you inside me."

My cock was obligingly erect by the time her fingers clasped it. Somehow
we managed to work my trousers down my legs without dislodging Angel or
pulling a muscle. Sighing happily, she settled herself on my man-root
until I was completely encased in her slick satin folds, and began
massaging me with her cunt.

It was a virtuoso demonstration of muscular control, but largely wasted on
her audience. I gazed up at her toned body and reached out first to cup
and caress her breasts, and then to pull her down against me. Angel was
breathing heavily, mirroring my own arousal.

"Do I excite you?" she breathed in my ear.

I smiled into the fall of her hair. "You know you do." A roll of my hips
emphasized the degree of my excitement. "I spent too much of today
dreaming of tapping this tight little body."

"I'm always wet for you," Angel admitted. "Cum in me, please -- I need you
now!"

Not for the first time, the bittersweet thought that she told no less than
the truth, and that the most beautiful creature in the world belonged to
me, absolutely, got my rocks off. Angel bit her lip and convulsed atop me
as she achieved her own release.

After a moment, Angel tensed to slide down and clean me, but I held her in
place. "Leave me inside, tonight," I told her. "Just stay; we need to
talk."

She looked closely at me, absently sweeping her hair over one shoulder,
and untensed. "Is everything okay, Boss?"

The feel of her still clutching my organ, the weight of her breasts again
my chest, and the soft breath in my ear were far better than just okay.
There was something to be said for being old enough to step off the
physical rut treadmill once in a while; I hadn't let myself wallow in
intimate contact like this for over seven years, not since...

"Boss?"

I refused to let myself get sidetracked now by memories of someone,
something, who was dead and gone past all hope of recovery. I'd just push
through it like I always did. "Sorry, a stray thought. I wanted to talk
with you about Rose Cunningham."

"Rose," Angel breathed, and it was her turn to take on a distracted
expression.

If trying to describe my ability was difficult, this was nightmarish.
Angel was a creature of the night and my creation, and had no direct
memories of a person she'd never "met." She had intellectual knowledge of
Angela's memories from before she'd been "born," but nothing more recent.
Somehow, she had the ability to pick through Angela's mind -- sort of like
asking a friend a question, without the friend remembering the
conversation -- but I was always skittish about asking her to exercise it.
I didn't know what might happen if something "leaked," and I couldn't bear
the thought of risking either of the two women in the body riding mine.

"Good-looking redhead, almost as hot as me, short hair?" she asked me.

"Hair's grown out some, and *almost* as hot," I confirmed. We exchanged
looks of shared amusement. "That's her. She lives near Angela, and seems
to have figured out Angela isn't really going to the University when she
claims she is. What do I need to know? Start with the old stuff first."

"They met at high school; BFF." Angel laughed at my quizzical expression
and spelled it out: "Best Friends Forever. Don't tell me you haven't heard
that one before." She shrugged. "They fell out of contact after
graduating; Angela went into the service and Rose went through college.
She got a job with a big firm in Saint Louis. There's an older brother who
lives in California, and her parents relocated to North Carolina a few
years back."

After a pause, Angel added, "I think she's kind of kinky."

That surprised me on several levels. "*You* think, or Angela thinks? And
why?"

Her response was a short sultry laugh. "I strongly suspect; Angela wasn't
sure. The mean girls called her 'Rose Cunnilingus' and 'Rose Cummingham',
but high school girls will hang a slur on somebody at the drop of a hat.
I'm pretty sure she hit on Angela once, in senior year." We both felt my
cock twitch, which prompted another smile from Angel. "Not exactly
academic interest, Boss!"

"Anyway, Angela was too clueless to recognize it at the time, and Rose
never pushed it. For the rest, there's nothing to point at, but she just
threw off vibes that suggested she was more, um, curious than her
classmates."

It all sounded in line with what Rose had told me, and helped clarify her
interest. Still, understanding the recent past would be critical in
avoiding any mistakes. "I left Rose's card on the desk; take a look before
you go any further, okay?"

Angel lithely uncoiled herself and walked across the office, showcasing
her perfect ass. I watched a rivulet of my spend start down her inner
thigh, only to be absentmindedly intercepted by a finger and transferred
to her mouth.

"Rose Cunningham, Interior Designs," she read. "Well, she's still using
her maiden name, and that was what she got her degree in." Angel looked
briefly at the back of the card. "Collecting phone numbers from attractive
women, at your age. Should I be jealous?"

"Absolutely not. As long as I can draw breath, you'll be mine." The
conviction in my voice was driven equally by desire and a sense of
responsibility.

"That sounded almost romantic," she teased gently while walking back to
the couch.

I thought she was going to clean me and put up a hand to stop her, but
Angel surprised me again by taking my hand and climbing carefully back
onto the couch so she could stretch out against me. "It feels good," she
explained when she saw my quizzical expression. One delicate hand wrapped
possessively around my flaccid penis.

"Okay, Angela, what have you been doing?" she murmured to herself.

I waited patiently. Hell, like this, I could wait all night and be content.

She roused a few minutes later and smiled. "I think Rose needs to get
laid."

"*That's* the most important thing you learned?" I protested.

"Maybe not," admitted Angel. "But she broke up with her latest boyfriend
when she moved back, has some clothes in the closet that startled Angela,
and seems to be deathly afraid of anybody getting near the drawer of her
nightstand."

"What else?" I wondered.

"Rose moved back about six months ago. She was fed up with the corporate
rat race and wanted to have more control over what she was doing, even if
it meant taking risks. She's done the bar scene once or twice, but hasn't
found anybody worth pursuing -- except maybe Angela." Angel squeezed my
cock. "They do girl things together, and get spa treatments once a month."
She leered at me, her expression wicked. "You should have seen the look on
her face the first time she saw Angela naked!"

"What do you mean?" I knew there was nothing wrong with my Angel; I looked
at her constantly.

Angel laughed in my face. "You're too close to the trees to see the
forest, Boss! Angela still acts like she's a 27-year-old virgin, but she's
waxed as clean as a billiard ball -- everywhere -- and has no tan lines --
anywhere! She only wears boots and athletic shoes, but the once Rose made
her try on a pair of fuck-me pumps, she could walk in them like a runway
model. If she's really tired or distracted, Angela can put on hose in less
than minute, with no runs and straight seams; if she concentrates, she can
ruin three pairs in a row. *I* think it's driving Rose crazy; she wants to
make a move but can't read Angela and is scared to queer things if she
makes a mistake." Her humor bubbled up again. "I bet with all the 'Lloyd
this' and 'Lloyd that', she thought Angela had a boyfriend -- how did she
react when she found out you were 48 years older?"

"Almost 48," I absently corrected her. I hadn't been looking at Rose's
face, but I remembered her initial hesitation. "Why," I asked, looking up
at her, "didn't I hear any of this?" I was confused, and a little hurt.
"They're doing all this, she's sharing things about me, and I don't even
hear Rose's name until she introduces herself to me tonight? It's like
she's living some sort of secret life!"

"That's the pot calling the kettle black." Angel chuckled, but her eyes
were sympathetic. She looked inward for a moment, and looked pensive. "I
think you shut her out, Boss. It was different, before, but then you
stopped talking to her about personal things; stopped asking about how her
classes were going or what she'd done on her time off. You didn't go out
for drinks after work anymore. She just figured you wanted to keep things
on a strictly professional level."

Damn; hoist by my own petard. It made perfect sense, once somebody had
pointed it out. I already knew exactly what Angela -- Angel -- did most of
the time, so I had no reason to ask; and fearful the fabricated separation
between the two personalities might fracture, excellent reasons *not* to
poke at memories that might not stand up to introspection.

If my questions about Rose seemed to be answered, I still felt like I'd
taken one step forward and two back.

"Thanks for the insight, and candor," I told Angel, before kissing her
again.

"I'm yours," she declared simply after we broke.

"Yeah, well, I'm Danny's," I groused. "I suppose I'd better get off my
keister before he comes looking for me." I very reluctantly helped Angel
to her feet before standing myself up and inspecting my clothing. It would
be easier to just send it all to the cleaners and start over; it was why
Danny gave me a closet and a clothing allowance.

"The handsomest man I know," Angel complemented me as she finished
adjusting my tie and brushed imaginary wrinkles away from the shoulders of
the suit jacket.

"Coming from you, I'll take that," I smiled, and pulled her so tight to me
she squeaked. I took a last look at the beautiful vision standing naked
beside my desk, and left to find out what unenviable task Danny had
waiting for me.