Angels Have Horns Pt 01

This story is a longer read and is just the beginning. It's a love story of sorts, but seeing as this is Literotica, I've concentrated on the sexual side the relationship a little more. It's not littered with acts of "fantastical" sex so if that's what you're hoping for, you might be disappointed. Instead, I've written something more tangible. Also if references to cuckolding, incest or gay sex, albeit only planting the thought, aren't your thing, it's probably better not to continue.

It was the classic "our eyes met across a crowded room" moment......it really was. The room, in this case, was a nightclub. It was the ubiquitous works Christmas "do"and most of us were pretty drunk already, along with the usual shenanigans that go with it. The woman who'd caught my attention was with, who I could only assume, her boyfriend. Our eyes did meet though, I was certain of it, but only for a scant moment. My gaze was quickly drawn lower as her beau nonchalantly lifted the back of her dress to her waist, proudly showing off her arse to his mates and............she looked at me again and smiled.

I sort of knew her, we worked together. Well not together as such. I'd barely spoken to her, but we worked at the same place and until that night I'd never thought about her sexually. She was younger than me and I didn't date girls much below my 25 years, so I'd never taken much notice of her before. She was just another work mate I said "hello" to in passing. Having said that, I'd had a couple of flings with some of the women there, but they hadn't worked out because...........well, they just hadn't.

She was pretty in a kind of innocent way. The sort of girl you could take home to meet your mother and completely at odds with what I was looking at. She just didn't look like "that" kind of girl. She didn't look like the kind of girl who wore a flimsy bright yellow gstring. She didn't look like the kind of girl who would let a guy do that to her.

My natural predatory instincts kicked in. Why wouldn't they when faced with an arse like hers. So smooth, the skin glistening in the light show of nightclub. Perfectly shaped too and yet so............big. Oversized in fact. Wonderfully wonderfully oversized. Oh, I'd dreamt of women with cheeks like hers. I'd masturbated so many times fantasising of such beauty, but I'd never come across a girl that fitted the fantasies.........well, not until that night. I never thought it would be someone I actually worked with.

Not unexpectedly, my feelings shifted from predatory to my default state. It was just plain wrong to treat a girl the way he was. I wanted to go over to them and tell him so. To let her know there were better men. Respectful, kind, caring and thoughtful men. Men that wouldn't treat her as an object to show off like some kind trophy or an expensive watch.

Men like me? Maybe, but I had my skeletons too.

The moment passed when he dropped the hem and they went off together, his arm wrapped around her shoulders leaving me feeling... jealous. Those few seconds, no more than 5 sweet, sweet seconds vanished and the music, lights and noise of the club returned. I was amazed that nobody in my small group of colleagues had noticed. Maybe they had, but nothing was said.

I didn't see her again that night and along with the drinking and dancing, I forgot about her, but only until I got home. Not home as such, just a room that I'd rented 6 months earlier when I'd been seconded from my last post. I was a manager for a large distribution company and over the last 5 or so years I'd moved areas 3 times. Manager sounds better than the job actually was, but that was the title and it gave the company the means to put me on a salaried contract. No overtime, no real benefits as such and long hours, all for the "opportunity" to work my way up the ladder.

I lay in my single bed, slightly (very) drunk, my head dizzy and thick from the buzz of the evening and the image returned. It was indelibly burned into my mind, like a snapshot in time and I masturbated.

In fact, I masturbated a lot thinking about Chloe and that night. Her pretty face smiling at me and the tiny lemon yellow gstring that seemed lost in the vast expanse of those wonderfully large buttocks. I think it would be fair to say I became quite infatuated with her. She became my guilty secret. Whenever I saw her at work my stomach would tighten and my cock would tingle. I even started to talk to her, nothing serious, just pleasantries really, but more than I had previously.

I noticed things about her too, how tall she was, how white her teeth were, her full lips, her hazel eyes, her flawless complexion and the perfume she wore. Her work uniform somehow managed to camouflage the size of her arse, as it did most of her body in fact, but it couldn't hide her legs. Only her calves really, but they were beautiful too. Strong and shapely and perfectly tapered towards her ankles.

I just couldn't stop thinking about her. It's amazing how one moment can change everything.

Over the next 3 months we talked more and more, sharing a joke or general work gossip. She always seemed pleased to see me, her pretty smile so genuine as she touched my arm or brushed her long, mousy blonde hair behind her ear. We seemed to be getting along so well. She was easy to talk to, but I kept my infatuation at bay. She had a boyfriend and I wasn't "that" type of guy. I couldn't keep my obsession bottled up when I was alone though, sometimes masturbating 2 or 3 times a day. Creating fantasies or just responding to the times we talked. I couldn't remember a woman who'd ever had that effect on me.

Then one day, just another normal day at work, I saw her with one of her workmates huddled together. Chloe looked upset and I couldn't help but ask if everything was ok. Maggie, her workmate, looked at me. "Just leave us alone Dave," she snapped. "The last she needs right now is another fucking man sticking his nose in," and putting her arm around Chloe's shoulders, led her away.

Later, not long before her shift ended, I saw Chloe walking towards me. She looked better than she had, although certainly not her usual cheery self. "Sorry about earlier David." I loved that she never shortened my name.

"You don't need to apologise Chloe. Sorry for intruding, it was none of my business," I said earnestly. "I just hope you're ok. If you ever need to talk I'd be happy to listen," quickly adding. "As a friend I mean."

She smiled that smile......the one I'd come to love so much. "Yeah?" she asked. "Do you mean that?" I nodded, too enthusiastically. "Ok, you can pick me up on Friday. Is 8 ok?"

I didn't expect that at all. "Really?" I asked, just a little too excitedly. I told myself to keep it cool, fighting the butterflies in my stomach.

"Yes really," she laughed as she wrote her address down on the back of my hand. "Don't lose that and don't be late," she beamed before she slipped away.

Over the next couple of days we didn't get the chance to speak, my workload getting in the way. However, I did find out from Maggie that Chloe's boyfriend had dumped her. She didn't elaborate as to why. I knew I should have felt more empathy, but the news just made me feel excited. Maybe this would be my chance.

So on Friday evening I headed out telling my landlady, Mrs Campbell, that I might be home late. Fortunately, she was used to my erratic schedule and as long as I didn't make too much noise when I got back, she was happy. I was fortunate to find her really. Along with my room, she let me store my motorbike in her garage at no extra cost.

I arrived just before 8pm driving my old Ford Fiesta wearing a nice dress shirt, black trousers, freshly shined black brogues and probably a little too much aftershave. I was acutely aware that my car wasn't exactly a "babe magnet" but it was functional and clean and besides, my main passion was my bike anyway.

It was a mid terraced house with a grey pebbledash frontage and a blue front door. There was a simple pathway leading to it crossing a lawned area that was shared between the other 4 properties in the block. I was just about to get out of the car when the door swung open and Chloe waved towards me as she stepped out.

The March evening was unusually warm, the sun had not long set and she was wearing a low cut, yellow flower print summer dress. It clung loosely to her breasts and the skirt flared slightly, shifting in the breeze. Her legs looked so long, accentuated by the dress only reaching to mid thigh. Flat yellow sandels finished off her outfit. She was a vision of beauty, her long hair framed her pretty face, swaying as she moved. I stepped out and quickly made my way around to open the passenger door for her, noticing a figure standing at the window of the house as I did.

"Such a gentleman," she remarked with a smile as she climbed into the seat.

"I try," I said playfully, drinking in the sight of her legs before closing the door. As I walked back around the car, I couldn't help wondering if she was wearing the yellow gstring I'd seen in the nightclub.

Seated next to her, I started the engine and simultaneously struggled to take my eyes from the expanse of flesh her thighs were presenting me with. "Where are we going?" she asked, forcing me to look up. Her smile said it all. She'd caught me red handed and I felt myself blush.

I'd booked a table at an Italian restaurant with a reputation for good food at reasonable prices. Even so, it was probably more than I could afford, but I was determined to make a good impression. When I told her she seemed excited. "Ooh....I've never had real Italian food before," she said, stretching those long legs out into the footwell.

The journey there was dotted with easy conversation and my inability not to steal sideways glances at her thighs. Soon we were out in the evening air walking towards the restaurant with her arm hooked through mine. God she was tall, probably only 3 inches shorter than my own 6'1" and that was in sandals. I pondered how tall she would be in heels and I felt my cock swell slightly.

Once there, we were greeted by a very handsome waiter wearing a bright white shirt and dark trousers. He had classic Italian features. Dark, almost black, swept back hair, dark eyes and an olive complexion. He took us to our table and held a chair out for Chloe. "I'm Luca," he introduced himself with a strong Italian accent. "I'll be your waiter for the evening." After taking our order for drinks, he left us with menus.

I was nervous and felt a little bit out of my depth, but did my best to appear confident. It was a pretty swanky restaurant and looking around at the occupied tables, clearly popular. The menu was more like a book and I gulped inwardly at the offerings and prices. Luca returned with our drinks and took just a moment too long whilst talking to us about the specials. I could see him looking at Chloe, the glint in his eyes made it clear he liked what he saw. We decided not to have wine with the meal. I was driving anyway and Chloe smiled at him saying she thought it would be greedy to have a whole bottle to herself, touching his arm as she did.

Instinctively I knew that she was flirting with him and felt a pang of jealousy, but chose not to say anything. It was our first date and besides, I barely knew her really, so I might have been wrong. Maybe she was just like that with everyone.

The evening progressed and seemed to go really well. I just felt so at ease in her company. Whenever she smiled, I felt weak in my stomach. Whenever she touched my hand, my heart skipped a beat. I still couldn't believe I was with the girl I'd been so infatuated with for so long. Even the small moments of silence when I struggled for another topic of conversation felt comfortable. The only "fly in the ointment" so to speak was Luca, who she seemed to be flirting with. Every time he came to our table he lingered, feigning hospitality to get slightly too close to her. It was made worse when at one point, she excused herself to visit the loo and I watched him openly leering at her as she walked by, before looking at me and smiling.

I paid the bill when we'd finished and even though Luca had upset me, I still left a tip. On the journey back we talked about nothing of any consequence, I was just happy to be with her. As I pulled up outside her house, I jokingly remarked that I'd noticed "the waiter" looking at her. I don't know why and I immediately regretted it. It was childish. She just laughed it off. "Oh, you'll get used to it," she told me, her beautiful hazel eyes sparkling.

"Get used to it?" I asked, somewhat confused.

"Well, it won't be the last time we go on a date will it?" before adding. "Unless you don't want to."

"Well, if you're offering," I replied, hoping she didn't notice I was giddy with excitement.

We didn't kiss, well not on the lips anyway. Instead, I gave her a peck on her cheek before she got out of the car.

For the next month we dated a couple of times a week. Mainly going to a pub or a nightclub. I couldn't afford restaurants like the first one much. Whatever disguise her work uniform offered was dispensed with whenever we went out together. She always dressed to accentuate her curves and in particular, her large derrière. I had to get used to the constant looks and occasional attempts to pick her up from other men. That was particularly hard to deal with, but perversely it made me want her all the more. I hid the jealousy that churned in my stomach, and tried to turn the negative emotion into something positive. After all, she chose to be with me, right?

The news we were dating soon got around at work, as these things do. Maggie, I found out, was her best friend. She was in her 30's, married to a much older man and the polar opposite of Chloe. Short and chubby with very large breasts, wavy shoulder length dark hair and hard features. She was loud and brash and I found it surprising they were so close, but who was I to judge. As soon as she found out she cornered me.

"Don't fuck her around like the last twat," she told me. "Chloe's a good friend and she deserves better than what he did to her." She was clearly very protective of Chloe, which I found admirable.

Not knowing what had happened, I just told her I didn't treat women badly. "Actually Maggie, between you and me, I really like her," I confided, hoping it would earn some trust. I didn't know it at the time, but Maggie would become a big part of my life.

Chloe and I had a lot in more in common than I expected. Both our parents had separated when we were young, but she had suffered more than me. She, like me, didn't really know her father and her mother had turned to alcohol, becoming increasingly abusive and violent. Eventually, she went to live with her uncle when she turned 14. Her relationship with her mother had totally disintegrated and he was able to give her the stability she needed. It was clear when we talked she, not unsurprisingly, doted on him. It made me feel thankful that I hadn't had it as tough with my mother. We had a good relationship and I was thankful of that.

We had similar tastes in music, food and sports too. She enjoyed the excitement of trying new things and riding pillion excited her. I loved my classic Honda CB750 F1 and was very proud of the fact that I had lovingly restored it. Not as quick as the newer bikes of the time, but I always got postive comments from fellow enthusiasts on rides out. Chloe seemed to recognise my pride. Just another trait I liked about her.

We petted of course, but I never made any sexual advances for that first month. I wanted to, but I also wanted her to know I wasn't only interested in her for that. I did masturbate a lot though, maybe too much, but that was the effect she had on me.

We'd been out and it was still early, so around 9 o'clock she suggested we go for a drive. Once we were moving she gave me directions to a quiet spot she knew. It barely registered that she must have used the place before and besides, a secluded spot was our best option at the time. So I found myself driving along a single track country lane, my heart beating in anticipation. My cock was already hard when she told me we were there. It happened to be under a bridge affording a large enough area to pull over and park. I hadn't seen another car for the whole journey, so assumed the road was barely used.

We started kissing passionately and I let my hand wander to her breasts without any resistance from her. As I did, she put her hand on my groin and began to squeeze my cock through my jeans. I hadn't expected her to be so..........forward. I didn't complain when she undid the button and unzipped me or when she expertly manoeuvred my jeans and underpants to my knees.

"Oh wow," she said huskily. "You shave."

I'd planned to forewarn her, but I hadn't planned for what was happening right then. Shaving my body was a throwback from when I swam competitively and I'd just kept up with the routine. Truthfully, it was also part of my own murky past and I enjoyed the sensation of being hair free. She didn't seem to mind, unlike some of the other girls I'd dated who thought it was weird. She didn't say anything about my average sized dick either. Quite the opposite. "Ooooh, is it that hard just for me?" she cooed, making me almost shoot there and then. God, she may only have been 19, but she knew exactly what she was doing.

Then she was on her knees with her large arse almost pressed against the passenger window, her dress up around her waist as she knelt over me. Fuck! She was wearing a black gstring, I could just see it disappearing into the crevice as I reached over to try and get a hand to her pussy. She slapped my hand away playfully. "Not yet," she whispered, her hot breath bathing my groin. "I just want to suck you off tonight."

Fucking hell!!

I felt her mouth envelope my very eager dick and I closed my eyes. I'd been sucked a few times, not many, but a few. Chloe was in a league of her own however. Words failed me as she expertly blew me, taking me down to the hilt with ease. She held all the power, knowing exactly when to speed up, slow down, lick or kiss. It felt like I was having my cock worshipped and every time I got close, she managed to hold me off. The thought that she must have sucked a lot of cock before mine quickly disappeared.

I started to talk to her using expletives and superlatives, amazed at the sensations she was giving me. In truth I was just babbling really, the words spilling out incoherently. I was desperate to cum, yet equally desperate experience more and more. She was THAT good.

Then I saw lights in the distance. Definitely car headlights coming towards us. Frantically I thought about what I should do as they got closer and closer. In the end I told her, mainly because whoever was driving that car would get an unhindered view of her buttocks pressed against the window as they drove by.

"Chloe," I panted. "There's a car coming. You might want to stop until it's gone."

The knowledge had the opposite effect. Instead of stopping, she went at me like a woman possessed. "Tell me when it gets here," she said, before going back down.

The car appeared around the corner with the headlights on full beam. I had to blink in order to stop the lights blinding me. "It's about 20 feet away," I told her. The feeling of being caught managed to make me hold off as Chloe's head began to move rapidly.

The car got closer, then began to slow down. Whoever was driving would have been able to see what we were doing. I felt a familiar mixture of fear and pure exhilaration as I desperately fought off my impending orgasm. The car was soon at the side of us and I could clearly see the face of an older man gawping at us......at her.

"Fuck Chloe, he's looking at you," I gasped. She took me back down to the hilt and simultaneously pushed her buttocks against the passenger window. Then he was driving away.