FFF - Gloria

 

"You're supposed to be an angel," he growls. "How can you debase yourself like this?"

"Mortal," I say, putting just a bit of the divine into it. "Mama wants to cum at least twice before she unties you." And with that, he can't say anything else because my angelic vulva is basically cutting off his oxygen supply and he has to lick or suffocate.

It wasn't always like this. I used to appear to mortals in my austere, winged form, all messenger-from-the-heavens and pure. But that changed with him. I found myself gazing at the most perfect being I'd ever seen, and I've seen the Big Guy.

But he was so holy. So devoted to his faith. He wouldn't countenance a dalliance with a mortal woman, let alone someone like me. All my pleas were for naught.

So what's a gal to do? Not a gal, technically, but you know what I mean.

The only thing that saved me was that I sing when we make love. And he's writing the songs down. And that's the only time I'll let him listen to me singing. So he plays along, doesn't struggle too much against the knots that bind him, that kind of thing.

"I feel an aria coming on," I gasp, and I swear he licks faster at that.

---

I don't know, she just looked angelic.

I had to work pretty hard to make this fit the assignment. Several sentences fell by the wayside, and the original beginning was cut to make room too. Plus then I had to work in the words "knot" and "naught" without feeling silly. I hope I managed.

This story speaks to me in my corruption-of-virtue, but I think it's more a celebration of sex and love. And why wouldn't an angel expect head? I think all women should expect head, and if angels don't technically have genders, they can still expect head.

---

Speaking of expecting head... yeah, I've got nothing but a non-sequitor to  go here. Head over to Max's blog where you can find the challenge of the week and join in the fun. I won't say it's more fun than head, but it's more fun than not expecting head.