October 22, 1988
Single, middle-aged and bespectacled Angelina Lione may look the part of the prim, proper and sexually repressed, buttoned-up bibliothec, but she's most definitely NOT your father's librarian - at least not while in a lover's company. Blessed with a ravenous and unquenchable sexual appetite, Angelina's orgasms are so intense that she oftentimes faints during the throes of passion.
While never mistaken for a perfect 10 with her large brown eyes, tucked behind oversized, Diana Prince-style eyeglass lenses, Angelina still cuts quite the desirable figure, with a fetching face always perfectly and tastefully made up, and a sleek and shapely body. Her short, black hair, speckled with gray, was cut in a chic, wedge/pixie-style, puffed and piled on the top and curled forward around the ears. Angelina's attractive physical traits, however, always paled in comparison to her overwhelming sex appeal. Using her vast store of feminine wiles, Angelina negotiates about her lovers' hearts, minds and bodies as deftly as she navigates the Dewey Decimal System, manipulating infatuated men for her monetary and personal gain.
High maintenance and even higher fashion, Angelina always models the latest designer threads - oftentimes accentuated by any one of her dozen pairs of high-heeled dress boots. Her sophisticated look even extends to smoking accessories. The haughty diva wouldn't dream of smoking a cigarette if it wasn't filtered through her long, black holder. More of a cigarette holder sucker and stroker than a smoker, Angelina seductively works the black shaft with her mouth, tongue and fingers as if it was a penis proxy; the effect that playing with the long, stiff holder has on would-be lovers is like snake charming. Under the sexy siren's magic spell, they're entirely at her mercy; powerless to resist the temptation to pleasure her - as if they really would.
Angelina spent her 20s and 30s as a fully-committed member of the sexual revolution of the 1960s and '70s - bedding dozens upon dozens of men. Only when she reached age 40 did her love life settle down - for her anyway - when the lusty librarian entered into a long term, nearly exclusive, torrid affair with the principal at her school. After the forbidden relationship unceremoniously ended six years later, Angelina found herself alone at a time when her peers had long since settled down into blissful domestic life. A prolonged romantic dry spell followed, until a former student unexpectedly burst into her life.
Twenty-two year old Tom Bailey had been in lust with Angelina for years, drawn in classic fetish fashion to the sexy librarian's stylish, high-heeled boots, seductive smoking and even her pretentious and snobbish personality. Over time, his feelings - like his fetishes - for the femme fatale only grew stronger, until he could no longer keep them to himself. The pair had just launched an intense, physical relationship when Harry Seymour, Angelina's old boss and lover, re-entered her life. Unable to decide between the two romantic suitors, Angelina proposed a date-off - or "fuck-off" - as Tom bitterly described the arrangement.
Now, with her love life once again in full bloom, the amorous woman was in sex heaven - reliving her youth, when men practically lined up around the block to date her. Preying on the men's sexual addiction to her, Angelina gleefully bounced between their beds for nearly a month, until Tom finally prevailed.
The love triangle finally broken, Angelina and Tom were finally free to embark on a committed, loving relationship. But the couple's path to romantic bliss was lined with a phalanx of challenges - not the least of which was familial. During their first fortnight together, Tom met Angelina's family - and had been unnerved by her brutish and overprotective brother-in-law.
It was a couple months into their relationship before Tom worked up the nerve to introduce Angelina to his folks. The encounter set off a tremor that was bound to trigger aftershocks along the fault line of their courtship. The meeting with what turned out to be an old work adversary so unnerved Tom's mother, in fact, that she subsequently resumed a long dormant smoking habit.
That introduction went poorly enough, but how would Tom's college friends react to seeing him with a much older woman? What would be their impression of her? What would he see in her? Sure Angelina was attractive enough - but she was an attractive older woman. Why would young Tom be interested in a 50 year old, when there were plenty of lovely ladies his own age available? And when they got a whiff of her pompous and bitchy personality, they'd really question what was in this relationship for Tom and the age difference would be even more pronounced. The very real possibility existed that they'd disapprove of this affair, judging Tom a weirdo and mere boy toy to Angelina's dirty old woman.
Private by nature - and especially embarrassed to confide in anyone about his smoking and boot fetishes - how could Tom possibly explain to them that Angelina embodied all that he found physically alluring in a woman? How every time he saw the haughty diva smoking from a cigarette holder or strutting about in a pair of delicious, high-heeled, knee-high leather boots it made his dick dance and pulsate with delight. Or that when every time he and this MILF-before-the-term-was-coined made love it brought him to heights of pleasure he never dreamed possible.
Now, a year into their dating relationship, the grave doubts Tom once harbored about he and Angelina ever having a serious, long-term future together had faded and they'd settled into a purely physical - if rather monotonous - routine of uninhibited, care-free sex.
"Happy first anniversary eve," Tom Bailey said cheerily into the mouthpiece of his telephone at his apartment in Hoboken, N.J.
"And the same to you, too, darrhhling," his girlfriend Angelina Lione responded in her trademark sexy and breathy tone, on the phone from her house, some 20 miles west.
"What a year. I can't wait to celebrate with you tomorrow. Wish we could celebrate tonight."
"I know, darrhhling, but I can't skip Lisa's bachelorette party. At least I'll get to see one Bailey today - your mother."
"Yeah, her asking you out for lunch...doesn't get much weirder than that, does it?"
"I still can't believe it. But after a year of undermining me and trying to break us up, maybe she's finally accepted that I haven't corrupted her sweet, innocent baby boy. Funny, if she only knew the depths of your kinks and fetishes."
"Maybe you two can even be friends now."
"I wouldn't go that far, darrhhling. I'll settle for civility. Oh, if only your mother could be more like your father. He and I get along famously."
"I think he has a little crush on you. He lights your cigarettes almost as often as I do."
"Yes, he does seem to have a quick lighter finger. I love it. He's so sweet and cute. Say...I've got an idea. Why don't you come over tonight and we can get a head start on our anniversary...emphasis on 'head'?"
"I like that. But won't the bachelorette party go late?"
"Doubtful, darrhhling. I'm sure it'll be a dreadfully dull and tame affair. It'll only be me, Elaine, Lisa, and her four bridesmaids, who aren't exactly the partying types, from what I can tell. We'll probably just talk, open gifts and drink tea. I'll be home by 11:00 at the latest, and then you and I can really party away the rest of the night."
"Great idea. I'll go out with friends here, then drive over to your house around 10:30 and let myself in."
"Perfect. Well, I have to run, darrhhling, and finish putting on my face if I'm to meet your mother by 1:00 at the restaurant. Ciao."
"Have fun today. And don't do anything I wouldn't do at the bachelorette party."
An hour later, Angelina and Ann Bailey, Tom's mother, met for their predetermined lunch date at a restaurant in the librarian's town.
