Message-ID: <17158eli$9811120531@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: perigryn.removethis@earthlink.net (Rosemerry) Subject: Fear & Desire Pt 3 (M/F, sci fi, virgin) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: The rush of wings came from behind her. She'd barely turned when he was almost upon her. She gave a little shriek at the great gray thing bearing down, and backed up a step. He cupped the wings with a hollow boom of air and was immediately thumping to his feet on the concrete. The wings flickered back to their folded positions and the angel laughed again. "You're better!" Cassie said. "Or anyway, you can fly now." Her heart slowing a little, she thought about the first time she'd realized he was hurt, and how much she'd wanted his freedom. Now he had it. She couldn't ask him to stay, she told herself firmly. "I'm, I'm glad." Cursing her hesitation, she looked away. The sun was well and truly up, although her balcony faced the west. She was in the shadow of the building. It was probably nearly ten o'clock, if she'd awakened as late as she thought. The breakfast hour was passed, and she didn't miss it, but having the day off would mean she'd spend it at odds in her apartment, listening to the fretful voices of her parents in her head. Alone. "Come, merciful child of earth," said the warm, light tenor of the angel near her. He'd stepped close, his body shining in the pale shade. "Seek the wind." He held out his hand. Cassie took it, not wanting to let herself understand what he'd just said. The angel didn't give her time to think, which was a blessing. He took her hand, drawing her across his body, and caught her around the waist with his other arm. She felt his legs heave, his manhood slide against her--felt that clearly, in the chaos of terrified sensation--and her feet had lost the pavement. Cassie fairly screamed, flung her free arm around his neck. Suddenly he was everything that kept her from death, and she clung for dear life. The building was gone, everything was gone but the merciless drop below and the fragile hot construction of flesh and light bones that she held to. His whole body surged against her over and over with the flapping of his wings. Their sounds were all around her, slicing down the wind and slapping up, as loud as if he were a living sail. She felt his laugh against her breasts, a sound of pure joy. "Put me down, put me back!" she cried. The angel made no response, other than to swoop. Gravity shifted sickeningly, for a moment she was on top of him, then her arms clinched tighter as she slung underneath again. It became clear he wasn't planning to stop. She felt his chest heaving, felt his arms tremble as he clung to her waist, but he wasn't going to stop. She clung with arms and legs, waiting to be killed. "Look," he said, his voice loud over the wind, vibrating against her ear. He sounded labored. "Look, earth's daughter." She sniffled her terrified tears back and turned her head a little. One eye came free of his shoulder and neck, and she saw they were over a completely different part of the city. The buildings were unfamiliar to her. People walked briskly down the sidewalk, little more than moving dots at this height. "They don't look up," she said shakily. Her grip on his neck and hips never slackened. The angel's wings shook the air harder as he lifted them up, higher, moving over the city at a rapid pace. There was a park, a playground. Only a few children swung desultorily on its swings at the hour, but the ducks in the pond took notice of the great winged shape moving overhead and scattered, panicked. Their shadow slipped smoothly over the grass, small as an airplane's shadow far away. Cassie's fear didn't lessen. No matter how long he flew, she would remain terrified, she knew. It was wearing her out. But through it, or past it, she was learning to think for herself. She couldn't pay attention to her social programming in a situation as crazy as this, and the angel had never had any. The voices of her parents, and of Practical and her wimpy counterpart, were left behind, blown away from her by the wind that seared her skin with its chill. And as the angel soared with her over the city she began to touch him. Her fingers first became aware of the line of his shoulders underneath his skin. His bones were so light, hard-edged beneath their thin, flexing cover of powerfully hot skin. She didn't release her left hand's hold on her right wrist, or let herself relax in his arms, but her hand slid down the backbone. At the same time she lifted her head a fraction, letting her mouth come in contact with his shoulder instead of her eyes. His skin was sweet, dusted lightly with a pungent sweat. Cassie smiled against his shoulder, feeling his body twitch against her in reaction. She took a firm grip on his neck with her left hand, entirely freeing her right. He was holding her, after all, and her knees were still clamped around his. She wouldn't fall. He wouldn't let her. So her hand slid down his back, resting lightly on the working muscles that drove the great wings. As her fingers slid into feathers, she heard his breathing shudder and the wingbeats faltered. Then they were plunging downward, the wings motionless in the air. She shrieked again and opened her eyes, turning her head, snatching back her hand to grip the other in a panicky clutch. The building came at them, nearly smashing them to bits, but he had somehow swept around it on a rush of wind. On the other side, his wings still extended and still, there was a lift. Gravity tugged at her as they rose, circling slowly around on one side of a worn, elderly building with round little windows. She watched the bricks descending slowly, until suddenly it was potted trees and artificial flowers,in among hothouse ivy and tended grass. Someone's roof garden was below them, then the angel's wings clapped twice and gave their hollow boom, he released her and they fell together onto the grass. She rolled twice, jumbled and bruised, and came to a halt, collecting herself. A quick look showed her an empty garden, with the roof door that led to it closed if not locked. Good; she wouldn't be hauled off to the police for being here, especially being here naked. She turned her head. The angel looked as if his last act had been to land her on this grassy space. He lay unnaturally on his back, his wings spread in two enormous gray arcs on the ground. Their feathers trembled slightly, and he was breathing hard, the only indication that he still lived. His mouth was slack and open, his head turned to the side, his hair everywhere. She crawled over to him, put both hands on his sweaty chest. "Are you all right?" she asked frantically. He nodded slightly, both alive and awake, to her great relief. Cassie looked around more carefully. There was a pool, now covered up for the season, and the potted trees were mostly palms, likely to survive the winter in this balmy part of the world. The flowers weren't real, the deck chairs were folded away and the grass was altogether too green. Someone was maintaining this area for its wealthy owner, who probably lived in the entire upper floor of the building, but it wasn't actually in use right now. "Angel," she said frankly, "you scared hell out of me." There wasn't a peep from her parents' mental voices, despite the forbidden word. They were probably still in the wind somewhere between here and her apartment. The angel was laughing at her, his eyes open now, taking on the green of the grass he lay in. He pushed at her to move back, and sat up, the wings flipping to a modified version of their folded position, over his head. It didn't look comfortable. Cassie did her best to turn off her brain. Then she settled back in the grass, flicked her hair out of her eyes, and reached up to draw him down over her. His wings creaked as they flipped back down to a resting place, and the heel of his hand landed on her hair, tugging her head aside. His kiss landed on the corner of her mouth. His lips were as heated as the rest of him, silky. She flushed deeply, but didn't let herself realize it. Fear had been sliced out of her by the knife of the wind, leaving only desire. His chest was slick and smooth under her fingers, the nubs of his nipples as hard as hers, in miniature. He kissed her more properly. She hadn't known to open her lips, it happened on its own, letting his tongue slip in. This made him soften against her, molding his body to hers, except for the one part that hardened, which she was hyperaware of, happening against her hip. Cassie found out about the wings by accident, too. Her hands wanted to touch and smooth his skin everywhere. Eventually they naturally gravitated to his back, and when she ruffled up the little feathers that led to his wings, he gasped, stiffening against her. She looked into his face, concerned, and at last understood the meaning of this reaction. Deliberately, she did it again, feeling the silky, dusty softness of the numberless tiny feathers under her fingers. The angel gave a sound halfway between a growl and a moan and put his head down beside her neck. His back arched, reminding her of a cat she had once petted. Cassie felt a sweeping rush of something, moving from her groin up through her body to spread hotly in her chest, a sweet sense of her own power to make him feel whatever it was that caused that sound. She kissed him this time, boldly touching her mouth to his. Somehow things were happening all over her body that she wasn't in control of. Her own back strained her up against him, pressed her breasts against his chest. Her right knee came up, her toes digging into the grass, while her left, the one he was half- resting on, was down, welcoming him. And she felt the place between her legs, the one she'd never been as aware of as she was right now, slickening itself with a feeling of heat and wanting she'd not felt since watching evil movies in high school. Her hands slid down the luxuriance of his wings, feathers springy and strong under her hands. The angel moaned softly, burying his face against her neck, his mouth working on her skin. She felt a shiver go through her, and strained his body closer against hers. He put his hand on her breast again, this time not cupping but stroking. His fingers pinched her nipple. It was extraordinary, as if her nipples were connected by wires of pleasure to her groin. It was Cassie's turn to moan. It had never occurred to her that her body would know what to do, without any instruction on her part. But her hands guided his head, her fingers buried themselves in the cool, silky strands of his hair, setting his face against her breast until her nipple was taken into his mouth. Cassie let her voice express her pleasure again, the wind taking it, scattering it over the empty garden. His body shifted, moving more over her. His hipbone ground a little painfully against hers, catching a bruised place from her unceremonious dumping onto this rooftop. She didn't care. Her attention was on the way his manhood seemed hard and seeking, yet springy, its root flexible so that it slid over her hip and nestled in her pubic hair without hurting him, although his body was pressed as closely against hers as could possibly be. Cassie wanted it, knew suddenly where it should go, her body seeming to hollow itself out in readiness. Her legs were even opening, her knee canting off at an angle. She raked her fingers down his back for the reward of his gasp, riffling her thumbs through the little feathers. He moved his mouth from one nipple to the other, bracing himself on his elbows, and suckled there. She let her head fall back to the grass, little sounds coaxed out of her with every motion of his tongue on the sensitive spot. His wings extended over her, their quivering feathertips pointing over her head. She stroked them with both hands. His hand swept hungrily down her body, sliding over her ribcage. Cassie caught her breath in astonishment, as her entire body seemed to leap for his touch. She never would have thought pleasure so universal, so that every inch of her skin surface longed for the heat and smoothness of his skin. His fingers slipped between her legs. Cassie rejected the impulse to close them, block him out. Instead she merely tensed in something between anticipation and nervousness. There was no pain. The lips there welcomed his touch, and she felt the astonishing heat, coming not from outside but from within, spreading over her lips and coating her upper thighs as his hand explored her. Pleasure followed his fingers. She was so deep there, she could have swallowed his whole hand, though it was too big around. She shuddered as his thumb grazed the sensitive spot under its hood, and suddenly wanted the finish of this thing with twice her urgency. "My angel," she whispered, not wanting to hear again that rough, deepened sound to her voice. Her whole body felt that way. She knew how it would sound when she spoke aloud. He slid his finger into her, simultaneously pulling on her nipple with his lips. Cassie tilted her hips, wanting to drive his finger more deeply in. Her breast slipped from his mouth, and she threw both arms around his neck. Wings rustled as she kissed him, marveling at the taste of her own skin on his lips and tongue. "Please," she said when he drew back, his gray eyes burning in his face. "Now, please." He nodded to her, his mobile lips curling in a smile. His knee slid between hers, bearing his weight as he hovered over her. Cassie knew without knowing what came next, and her body was tense and frightened as she made herself open her legs widely. It felt wanton, improper to do, but she did. She was resolved. The springiness of his masculinity, its heavy, blunt flop, made sense to her now as it slipped deliciously against her soaking lips. He leaned aside, one hand holding him up. The other caught her hand and drew it down. Cassie realized where he was going and bit her lip, but let him move her fingers to it. Hot, as the rest of him was hot, and smooth. It had grown astonishingly, she thought, from when she had first seen it. Its dimensions frightened her; was this meant to go inside her? She stroked, cautiously, feeling the way the skin seemed to move sleekly over the solid core underneath. Perhaps it was boned, like the rest of him, although she wasn't sure how that could be when its shape had changed so. Either way, suddenly she didn't know if she could go through with this. Her touch had made him quiver. He crouched over her, taking her hand from him. He lifted it up, kissed the knuckles once, and rested it firmly on his shoulder. Then while Cassie gripped him there with panicky strength, he did it. She gasped and closed her eyes tight while he entered her a little, waited a moment and pushed forward, waited, and again. It hurt more than a little, but she didn't stop him. When he began to move, sliding himself in and out of her, the pain diminished, fading away slowly until the experience wasn't unpleasant anymore. Cassie let herself relax after that, shaken by the pain she'd felt. He kept moving, tenderly, over her, his back arching up like an animal's. His wings were outspread around her, their leading edges braced against the ground delicately. His breathing was coming more swiftly, his hair falling all around her face and dripping into his eyes. She set it back and he smiled at her, kissing her wrist while he moved, thrusting into her again and again. She felt a dreamy sense of that power again, the ability to make him feel pleasure. She reached around his chest, under the supporting arms, and ran her fingers over the strong base of his wings. He gave a soft sound and the motion of his hips speeded up, rocking against her. She found her own body moving with his. The friction was what delighted him, she realized, giving him the same pleasure she'd felt when he rubbed her. The brief pain had stunned the pleasure out of her, but she sensed that if he kept this up long enough, it would come back. He wouldn't, though. He was going too fast, driving himself into her on his own timetable. She simply held him, let him have his way with her, moved with him, stroking over and over again the feathers of his wings, the muscles of his back. Once her hand dared to slip down, feel the tensing and releasing that was moving him into her. Cassie listened with wonder to his voice, raised in passion near her ear. She was bringing this out of him, taking him to this height. It felt wonderful. The angel met her eyes, his shining and glittering with eagerness. She couldn't bear the unguarded look of his face, and kissed him so that she could close her eyes. His mouth was loose with pleasure, and he moaned right into her kiss, vibrating her lips with the sound. Sudden pleasure leapt up in her, warming her nerves, all of them. He threw his head back, his ash-colored hair flaring everywhere, and she heard the rattling rustle of his wings as they tensed and shuddered. Inside her, he seemed to do the same thing, twitching and jerking. His voice was the piercing wildness of an eagle's call. She felt him stop, trembling as he pressed himself as far into her as he could, his supporting hands digging their fingers into the turf.She made a short, gutteral sound, heated by another flash of dull, faraway pleasure. Mostly she was overjoyed by his ecstasy. This was what he'd wanted, and she'd been able, despite her inexperience, to give it to him. It was all she could have asked. Breathing again, he relaxed down onto her, crushing her for a moment before he slipped off. His wings folded themselves langorously, and he dropped his head onto her shoulder, panting. He slipped out of her, and she felt that most of her lower body was wet, and he was, too, dampening her outer thigh. Cassie felt unreal, felt the way a person does when a change has been made but not yet understood. To her horror she realized tears were sliding down her temples. Her hand was caught under his shoulders, and she couldn't wipe them away. For a while they lay there. His breathing slowed, but he didn't look up. Cassie's tears dried slowly, and she became aware of a dull ache where he had used her so thoroughly. She shifted, turning onto her side and moving into his arms, where he held her and she wept a little more, quietly. The angel caught her tears on the ball of his thumb and wiped them away, saying nothing. She was afraid to look at his face, but she clung to him warmly. Once she had done crying, his hands stroked her reassuringly, and his wing curled over her like a blanket of feathers, keeping out the chill. Cassie snuggled into him and thought of sleep, now that his desires had been satisfied and she could count on nothing but caresses of tenderness now. For a time, that was all he gave her. She even dozed a little bit, forgetting that she was in a strange place, on grass that didn't belong to her. But finally she became aware the the slow sweeps of his palm were gaining a little in firmness; sliding over her body with a more interested touch. He stroked her shoulder, her arm, slid his palm over her breast, nudging the nipple with the base of his fingers as his hand moved back up. His fingers trailed over her neck, tilting her head back so he could lay minute kisses under her chin. Cassie's body answered these caresses, writhing very slowly in his arms. Her breathing came a little faster. She realized suddenly that there was more pleasure to be had here, and all the danger had gone out of it. The angel's kisses moved over her neck, sending little ripples of sensation through her. His touch slipped down her spine, rubbing slow circles at its base. She tried to do as he did, touch him where she was touched, hoping to discover what he liked. He smiled and moved against her, humming softly against the place where her neck and shoulder came together. Cassie sighed, caressed by his mouth, his fingers, his wingtips. Warm and slow-moving, pleasure rippled through her like an underground river, flooding to every part of her. Her nipples were hard again, though she was anything but cold this time. The angel mouthed them as he had done before, this time biting down on them so gently there was no pain, only an exquisite sting of pleasure. Cassie whimpered. Her fingers forgot what they were doing and slipped into his hair, holding his head against her. He curled his tongue around her nipple. She arched against him, pressing herself against his heat. His moving hand slipped over her hip, dropping again to the sticky wetness between her legs. She opened them without hesitation this time, wincing slightly at the bruised feeling. His fingers entered her again, drawing their joined fluids out to burn her lips. His thumb pressed lightly on her clitoris. She gasped, her hips jerked against his hand, and she gave herself up to his touch. His fingers worked on her, pleasure multiplying there, concentrated like honey where his thumb was keeping up a firm pressure. He pressed her down against the grass with his chest, which she was grateful for, keeping her involuntary wriggling to a minimum. She clung to him, unable to believe what was happening to her. Had he felt this way? It was no wonder he hadn't been able to wait for her. The rest of her thought processes dissolved. Her fingers clawed at his shoulderblades, and she pressed her forehead against his collarbone, bracing it while his fingers drove against her, moving faster still. A breathless moment passed. Her body was taken by a whipcrack of pleasure that shuddered and contracted her inner muscles, quivered her thighs, broke a cry from her throat. She shook while it settled back out of her, her legs closing automatically against his hand. He held her, easing her down onto the grass again, tucking her against his warm side, gentling her with his hands. "Angel," she murmured into his shoulder. "Mmmm..." She half-woke some time later, mid-air. Her feet were dangling in the cold, and that was what woke her. Her arms were loosely around his neck, but he held her tightly against himself. She wasn't afraid, only burrowed her face against him away from the wind. She was asleep again before they reached her building. The landing was better this time, although he must have been exhausted. Cassie opened her eyes when he put her onto her bed, drew the blanket over her, and settled down on his chest beside her. The last thing she saw was his wing next to her face, when he drew the joint down and unwound the bandage from it. He dropped it over the side and settled down to sleep. Slept out, she awakened late that evening, alone. The screen door was still open to the sky, glass everywhere, and the bandage still lay on the floor bedside; but that was almost the only thing to tell her it had ever happened. The angel had flown. The last relatively good day was over. 12 MONTHS LATER Cassie stepped into the elevator on low-heeled shoes, her briefcase in her hand. She regarded the figure in the elevator mirror with some satisfaction. The business suit was smart, even after a long day; the managerial nametag was still ruler-straight on her breast. She reached up and pulled her hairpin out, letting the no-nonsense style down, so that her honey-colored hair fell about her shoulders. Winking a blue eye at herself, she stepped off onto her floor. The door opened without a key. "Welcome home," a female voice called from the bedroom. Cassie dropped purse, briefcase, coat, earrings in a path to the bedroom door, stepping over things scattered about the floor. "Diane," she said, smiling. "How is he?" "Big as life and twice as troublesome," the younger girl answered cheerfully. She stood up with the baby over her shoulder and handed him to his mother. Receiving his light weight, Cassie had to smile. She and her baby engaged in meaningless babble for a few minutes. The baby's wide gray eyes looked at her happily as he told her, in gibberish, everything that had happened while she was gone. "Still doesn't weigh enough, ma'am," Diane said reproachfully. "Look at him, he's growing plenty," she countered. "He's just got light bones. Haven't you, cutie? Let's go see the sky." "I'll just go on, ma'am," Diane said, pointing to the door. "I've got homework to do yet." "Thanks again, Diane... see you tomorrow." She and the baby went out on the balcony. She moved the sliding glass door aside, thinking as she always did of a time when she couldn't even open it without fear. Now the lessons childbirth and motherhood had taught her were written on her face in lines of confidence. Beside the door was the framed letter from her father, disowning her in tones of righteous indignance. The frame was gold. "What do you see, baby?" she asked absently, leaning against the railing. She kept her son on the opposite hip, in from the edge, automatically. It'd be worse later, when the two lumps of tissue along his back split and the feathers began to grow. Teething would have nothing on it. Cassie shaded her eyes. The sky was so blue today. The baby crowed at the wind, his bits of gold hair blowing across his round face. She looked up into the cloud-scattered sky, remembering a storm. The angel had come on the last relatively good day. There was a speck in the blue, growing rapidly. The baby, recognizing the signs he'd seen every day since his birth, crowed. The gray wings of his father, the child of heaven, the messenger, became visible as a faroff shape in the sky, coming closer, and Cassie smiled in anticipation. All the days since had been absolutely wonderful. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Rosemerry perigryn@earthlink.net Each star now knows your name I've wished upon them all Each answer is the same: "Not 'til the heavens fall." http://home.earthlink.net/~perigryn/ -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----