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
frequently 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, Harry Seymour, an older man who fed her fetish for cigar-smoking lovers. After the forbidden relationship unceremoniously ended six years later, Angelina found herself alone at a time when many of 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 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 long-term romantic harmony 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 bitchy 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 he and this MILF-before-the-term-was-coined made love it brought him to heights of pleasure he never dreamed possible.
Finally after a year of "dating," the two became engaged. Six months later the improbably couple married. Still, their future seemed as romantically dysfunctional and clouded as their present. In part due to questions surrounding whether or not Angelina was capable of curbing her sexual enthusiasm.
For even while dating her confessed greatest lover, Harry, Angelina engaged in several dalliances with other men.
Would the mere presence of a wedding ring on her finger be enough to stop a lifetime of promiscuity. It certainly didn't deter her at her bachelorette party. Certainly if she were to sustain a long and healthy marriage, such party-girl misbehavior would not be permissible. At long last, can this cougar finally change her stripes and commit to a monogamous relationship with someone, ideally, her young husband, Tom?
In the meantime, with Tom free to indulge in his lifelong fixation for women who smoked and wore high-heeled fashion boots, and Angelina able to satisfy her lust for sexual partners who smoked cigars, the May-December couple enjoyed a marriage made in fetish heaven.
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September 3-4, 1989
When Angelina awoke an hour or so later, Tony was gone.
Maybe this was all just a bad dream, she thought, taking stock of the situation, as she lay in bed. That hope lasted all of about 10 seconds when Angelina rolled over and found a hand-written note on her nightstand.
"Dear Aunt Ang," it read, "sorry couldn't wait for you to wake up. I got beeped to come into work. Holiday pay. Can't pass it up. Looks like it'll take all day. But I'll see you tomorrow for dinner on Laber (sic) Day with the fam. Thanks for an INCREDIBLE time! Love, Tony"
In a panic, Angelina crumpled the apparent love note in her hand, rose from the bed, sprinted to the bathroom and flushed the paper down the toilet. Ensuring the evidence of her one-night stand with her nephew was destroyed before her husband saw it.
For the rest of that Sunday before Labor Day -- with Tom and her relatives out of town -- Angelina spent a mentally taxing day in solitude, working fruitlessly to piece together what circumstances could have possibly led her to wake up in bed alongside her nephew.
Angelina still had no answers the next day, but with her hosting the family dinner that night, there was no time to give the concerning situation more detailed thought.
Shortly before 4:00 p.m., her husband returned, reeking of the great outdoors and loaded for bear.
"I'm home!" Tom announced excitedly, dropping his camping gear at his feet as soon as he walked in the back door off the kitchen.
"Oh, darrhhling!" Angelina said, placing the knife she had been using to dice carrots on the cutting board and walking across the kitchen to greet her husband.
The two dissolved into a hug, and a quick kiss on the lips.
"Did you miss me?" Tom asked, with a smile, his arms still locked around his wife's 29" waist.
"More than you'll ever know," Angelina said, giving her young mate another kiss on the mouth.
"Well, I missed you, too! A lot! How was the wedding?"
Angelina's face promptly turned as red as her crimson-painted lips.
"It was fine -- nothing interesting. Just a wedding," she lied, intentionally avoiding giving details, so that her husband would not ask any follow-up questions.
"That's good. What time's dinner?" Tom said, his wife's ploy apparently working.
"Not for a couple hours, but my family will be here at 5:00."
