This is my first attempt at erotic writing and I do appreciate constructive criticism and helpful hints. My intent was to write something for the ladies. Truthfully I like the idea of getting a woman aroused by what I have written. If you are looking for slam-bang-thank-you-ma'am sperm shooting on the walls sex this probably isn't for you. Although it may turn into that by the last chapter.
The Awakening of Angel
Chapter 1
5 June Brannon Tillman
She walked into my club just a little after sunset on one of those early summer days where the temperature was just right and the breeze carried the scent of flowers. But mixed with the light floral tones I sensed a slight hint of muskiness. Was it her? There was something in her walk that caught my eye. A slight sway of hips and a determined placement of steps that exuded confidence. She had a little bounce, an internal rhythm that kept time to the beat of the dance music as she made her way to the bar.
Many of the men, and quite a few of the women, either stared directly or stole sideways glances as she passed by. There was a very palpable femininity that was enhanced by her small frame, ample curves, and luxurious brunette hair. It was very apparent that she had chosen each item of clothing and her makeup with the express intent of accentuating each of her features.
Then there was what I call the bubble because she literally bubbled, like a freshly opened bottle of high quality champagne. The effervescence overflowed when she laughed. It was an intoxicating girlish giggle that carried a fresh sense of innocence. But there were undertones of something hidden. Something dark maybe? Or possibly some deep insecurity? For sure it was there, whatever it was, and she did a good job of hiding it. Most people wouldn't pick up on it, but I did.
My reserved seat at the corner of the bar allows me to watch my employees and guests without appearing conspicuous because it sits in a sort of stagnant dark space away from the main serving area. It just doesn't get lots of traffic. It was a busy night, the drinks flowed freely and the music pounded out a primal beat. You wouldn't say I am wealthy by today's standards, but I do well and my businesses and investments are successful. It helps to have a great staff because it frees me up to pursue my hobbies and passions. Nevertheless, I like being at the club for many reasons, one of which will soon become very apparent.
In any given night there will be a handful of women who try to catch my attention. Some are subtle and others are very overt in their approach. Some are beautiful, some are the girl next door, and some are drop dead knockouts. But I look for certain special little nuances in a woman that indicate hidden things which need to be brought to the surface. Elements that are a hindrance and keeping her from being that complete perfect blossom of womanhood. That's my passion.
This night was no different than so many others, the approach of interested females, some polite small talk, and an eventual wandering away to more fertile pickings when I didn't return the correct signals. Meanwhile my item of interest had taken a seat at the other end of the bar and was engaged in some light conversation with the people around her. I decided that it was time to make my rounds of the house and made may way to a number of guests, welcoming them and making sure they were having a good time. I purposefully circulated to the customers in her general area but made sure to not make eye contact. A few feet away from her I leaned over the bar and told the bartender to send a round of drinks on the house to table 12 for the bachelorette party that was well underway, and then made my way back to my secluded corner.
That short foray accomplished a few things. She noticed me, and saw that I didn't notice her. It also confirmed that my initial assessment of the source of the muskiness was indeed her. There were some crazy endorphins at work with her. I have to be honest that it was purely intoxicating but there was no way she was going to know the effect it had on me. Not now anyway.
As the evening progressed she danced and talked with a number of men, all of which took a shot, and all of whom were subsequently rebuffed. Unlike lesser women, whose rejections were often harsh, she seemed to have a way of sending suitors off feeling better for having met her. It was intriguing to watch the way she interacted with people, yet I still sensed a secret being hidden deep. A number of times she looked over to see if I was looking her way, but my observations were always out of my peripheral vision and there was obvious disappointment and confusion on her face.
Last call eventually went out and she was still sitting at the bar, talking to a few couples waiting for the valets to bring their cars around. I made my way over to her as the couples exited and asked her if I could call her a cab to which she answered that she was a little buzzed but would be fine to drive. My response was firm that I took very good care of my customers and that a cab was coming and one of my staff would follow in her car.
There was a smile and a little blush, followed by a cute, if not slightly slurred giggle. She reached out and touched my elbow and said, "Thank you for being such a gentleman. My friends call me Angel." I returned not quite a smile, but more of a knowing and friendly nod. Leaning in close to her ear I spoke a few words and then straightened up. She had a somewhat stunned but quizzical and look on her face, froze for a moment, then quickly turned and got in the taxi.
5 June Angel