The Awakening Of Angie

I love the bookstore. I love going there, and spending hours at a time. The bookstore that I normally frequent was put out of business when a corporate store moved in and swallowed them up. I grudgingly took my business to the new larger establishment, and eventually felt at home. There were a large number of chairs, couches, and a coffee bar to get a refreshment, and enjoy a book or two.

I’ve always had a thing for photography. The ability to capture a moment for all of eternity is a fascinating thought to me. I’ve collected a lot of books on the subject, and my interest has moved to video photography in recent years. So much so, in fact, that I’ve begun to tape my sexual interludes with various women. So far, I have tapes of myself with six different women, with 3 saying ‘no’ to the idea. I’ve never viewed the tapes with anyone other than the woman in any given tape, but none of them know that the others exist, either. I’ve never lied about it to anyone, I just feel that’s information that need not be shared.

One Saturday, I’d driven to the bookstore to find a few books on photography. I’d gotten there early enough to gather the books I wanted, and find a comfortable couch to relax on. I’d been there about 15 minutes, when I heard her for the first time :

“Is that book any good?”

I couldn’t believe how gorgeous she was. She was young, a little over 5 feet tall, with long chestnut brown hair, with a few blonde streaks, and hazel eyes. She had a healthy tan, and a body that would stop traffic. She was incredibly curvaceous. Her breasts were particularly ample, and it was everything I could do to keep from staring at them in awe. She had a mild southern accent that was nothing less than endearing. When she smiled, you could see that she was wearing invisible braces. They even added to her sexiness.

“Yeah, it seems OK. I just started looking through it.”

“I like photography. I’d love to do that for a living.”

“What do you do now?”

She sat down in a chair next to me. “I just graduated from high school a few months ago. My family moved here last year, and I’m not really sure what I want to do. I work at a clothing store at the mall.”

“Are you thinking college, maybe?”

“Maybe. I really don’t know. All I do know is that I need a year to myself before I pursue anything.”

I loved to listen to her talk. Her voice was sexy, as well as endearing.

“Where are you from?” I asked.

“The southern part of the state. My name’s Angie.”

I extended my hand, and told her my name. Her skin was soft, like nothing else I’ve felt before. Just looking at her made me hard as a rock.

“So, what kind of photography do you like?” I asked.

“Nature, I guess. You know…birds, small animals. I also like to take pictures of what you might call ‘still life’ : large rock formations, and so on. What about you?”

I thought carefully before I answered. My interests had begun with sports photography. I even sold a few photos taken at high school basketball games to the city newspaper. However, when the idea came to me to videotape my sexual encounters with women, my attention seemed to almost exclusively turn to that. I figured I’d better answer carefully, rather than send this goddess running.

“Human interaction.”

She didn’t blink. “That sounds interesting. Is it hard to capture?”

“Sometimes. I’m always looking for new subjects, and it’s tough sometimes. When you find a good subject, though, you just know, and it’s incredible. It’s also great to relive the experience, later on.”

“Maybe I can be a subject of yours, sometime.”

I almost came in my pants at the thought of having my way with this little minx. I was in my mid-30s when we met, and I almost felt like a dirty old man.

But not quite.

“I’d like that a lot, actually. More than you know. It’s been a while since I’ve had a subject who was so…photogenic.”

Angie smiled at that comment. She stood up and said, “I’ll be right back.”

I watched her walk away. She was wearing a pair of black pants that hugged her body nicely, and a shirt that, even while somewhat conservative still accentuated her breasts. I stared at her ass as she strolled out of sight.

I waited for a few minutes, assuming she went to the restroom, or to the coffee bar. After ten minutes, she still hadn’t returned. I wanted to talk to her even more, and at least exchange phone numbers. After thirty minutes, I gathered the books I’d taken to the couch, and stood up. I walked the entire store looking for her, looking in every aisle. She had vanished. I had nothing other than a first name, a body burned into my mind, and the knowledge that she liked photography. I had no choice but to give up. I paid for the books that I wanted, and left.

I thought about Angie for days. She even said that she worked for a clothing store in the mall, but with at least a dozen malls scattered all around the city, and at least a dozen clothing stores in each, it wasn’t really logical or feasible to check each one. The only thing I could think to do was to be at the bookstore every Saturday, around the same time, and hope that Angie would return.

For five Saturdays in a row, I arrived at the bookstore first thing in the morning. I browsed through books that I had no intent on purchasing. I scanned the store continuously for Angie. Employees must have thought I was scoping the store out for a robbery, I was being so observant. After the fifth week, I swore it off. I thought that it was not meant to be.

The week following what I said would be my last, I still couldn’t stop thinking about Angie. She was what every man dreamed of, and had set me on fire just during our brief conversation. Some days, I was so aroused at the thought of her, I’d have to masturbate just so that I could think of something else. She shouldn’t have been that hot; it was almost as if she were the only beautiful young woman in the world, and she was keeping it all to herself.

Even though I told myself I’d let it go, I couldn’t. I wanted this girl so badly, that I couldn’t think about anyone else. I vowed to go one more Saturday morning, and then be done with it. I figured if I was meant to see her again, I would, whether it was at the bookstore, or not.

Saturday arrived, and like clockwork, I was at the bookstore upon opening. I gathered a few photography books that I had no interest in buying, a couple of magazines, a vanilla mocha, and headed for the couch. A couple of hours passed, and I was feeling almost resentful that she hadn’t shown up. I was about to concede defeat when…

“Remember me?”

There she was. She was wearing a blue t-shirt, and white pants. She looked amazing. I’d been thinking about her so much, I was almost intimidated by this girl nearly half my age.

“How could I forget? How have you been, but maybe more importantly,

where

have you been?”

Angie sat down. “First, I am so sorry that I left so abruptly. I left to get a drink from the coffee bar, because I wanted to talk to you some more, but when I got to the bar, I saw the clock, realized what time it was, and had to leave in a hurry. Otherwise, I would have been late for work. I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m glad we met up again. Do you have to work today?”

“No, miraculously, I have a weekend off. What did you say you did again? I know about the photography, but I didn’t know if that was a hobby or not.”

“Strictly a hobby. I work in computer programming.”

“Wow! Do you make a lot of money?”

Normally, that question might come off as offensive, but she was young, and I also don’t think she meant any harm by it.

“I do OK.” By ‘OK’, I meant that I pulled in just under six figures a year. I’m certainly proud that I make a good living, but I’m not comfortable flashing it around. I figure it best to let that go.

“How long have you been doing that?” she asked.

“Since I was a kid, really. I used to design simple games on my computer when I was young. Younger than you, actually, and it just kind of snowballed from there. I went to college, got a degree, and have had two programming jobs since college. It’s kind of fun, I guess.”

“I like computers, but I’m kind of computer-illiterate. I know where to point, and what to click, but if something doesn’t work, I don’t know where to go from there.” She smiled at me, bashfully.

“Maybe I can tutor you sometime.” I thought I was being so coy.

“I’d like that. Do you remember my name?”

“Angie.” I said it without hesitation. She seemed impressed that I remembered. She also remembered my name.

“Do you remember where I’m from?” Her southern accent seemed a little stronger when she started talking about her home.

“You told me that your family moved here, and that you just graduated from high school. That had to be hard, finishing high school with a bunch of people you don’t know.”

“It sucked. My best friends are hours away, and I have a tough time meeting people here. I go to church on Sundays, but everyone there seems like they’re either a little too young or

waaay

too old for me to hang out with.”

“So who do you hang out with, then?”

“Well…no one, really. I have a twin sister, but she met someone right after we moved here, and they are always together. I go along sometimes, but I hate being a third wheel.”

She has a twin sister

. Again, I was immediately aroused almost to the point of ejaculation. Not only was there one of these incredibly sexy women in the world, but there were

two

. I nearly lost all my bearing.

“Twin, huh? Is she as beautiful as you?”

“She’s prettier.” My mind couldn’t even comprehend that thought, so I tried to remove it.

“Well, I think you’re pretty damn attractive, so that’s my two cents.”

Angie smiled bashfully at me again. She smiled in a way that almost implied she wasn’t used to hearing that sort of thing. I found that incredibly hard to believe.

“Thanks. So when do I get to see some of your photography?”

“I guess that’s up to you. When would you like to?”

“What are you doing today?”

Smiling, I replied “I’m showing you my photography.”

I set my books and magazines on the table next to me, and we both stood up. We left the bookstore, and Angie followed me to my house. We arrived there ten minutes after we left the bookstore parking lot. We got out of our cars, and went inside. Angie looked around at my house. It was two levels, with bed and bath upstairs. My house was admittedly messy, but it wasn’t filthy.

“Nice place.” she said.

“You’re kidding, right? This place is a mess.”

“Well, I’m not saying that it couldn’t use a good cleaning, but I like it! It’s kind of…cozy.” Her eye caught a photo I’d taken at a high school basketball game of a young man dunking over his opponent. I’d had it framed, and put on my wall.

“Who is this?”

“He used to play at a local high school. He goes to UCLA now. I sold that photo to a newspaper, but I had him autograph the picture, because I thought he might be famous one day. He’s doing OK, I think.”

Angie turned her attention away from the photo, and continued to look around the apartment. There was a stack of magazines on the coffee table, a few clothes scattered here and there, and a large plasma TV in the center of the living room wall. She saw various photos of me with different people on my bookshelf. She gravitated toward them.

“Is this your family?”

“They’re in a couple of the photos. My sister and brother and I are in the larger photo in the center, and then it’s mostly friends.”

“Have you ever been married?”

“No. I came close once, but I haven’t met the right woman yet.”

“Do you mind me asking you all these questions?”

“No, not at all.”

All I could think about was how badly I wanted to fuck her. Looking at her ass in those white pants, I just wanted to run up behind her, bend her over, and fuck her like a savage. I even considered it, briefly, but that seemed like a bad idea.

“So what happened? Why didn’t you get married?”

“Sometimes, things just don’t work out the way you expect. I’ll leave it at that.”

“Oh, OK. Sorry.” Her accent made her apology seem even more sincere, somehow. Angie continued to look at the photos. She set the frame she was holding back onto the bookshelf, and continued to explore the house. She wandered into my office. I had three computers, and an extraordinary amount of computer equipment hooked up. She also found one of my two video cameras, mounted on its tripod. Cables and wires were spread all over the floor, and some connected to the back of one of my computers.

I followed her into the office. “WOW!” she said. “You really are a computer guy. Look at all this stuff! My computer is so slow, it’s sad, and I don’t have nearly this kind of equipment. What’s it all for?”

“Some of it is work-related, and some is just for fun.”

Angie then noticed videotapes on the floor, all of them labeled with names. TAMMY. ANDREA H. ANDREA B. “What are these?”

I had to think quickly. When she walked back here, it hadn’t dawned on me what was lying out. “Those are projects I’m working on for some friends.”

“Is it the human interaction stuff you talked about?”

“Yes.”

“Can we watch them? I want to learn more about it. It sounds interesting.”

“Not right now. They’re still works in progress. I’m still in the process of transferring these to DVD from video. I’d rather show you a completed project, or get you to participate in one.”

“That would be great!”

You have no idea

, I thought to myself. Her huge breasts were slightly illuminated by the glow of the monitor. How can this girl not know that she’s a knockout?

“Do you mind if I check my email?” she asked. “I’ll just be a minute. I don’t have a hi-speed connection at home.”

“Sure, help yourself. I’ll get us something to drink.”

What I really wanted to say was, “Want to go upstairs and fuck?” I wanted this girl so badly. I’d never felt such a lack of control of my own thoughts as I did with this girl. I fetched two sodas from my fridge, and returned to the office.

Angie spun around in her chair. “You’re nice to me.”

I wasn’t expecting that comment. “What brought that on?”

“You just are. You welcomed me into your home, you’ve made me feel at home, you’re just nice to me. I like it here.”

I wasn’t sure what to say at that point. “Before I ask what I’m about to ask, I want you to know that I like you too, a lot. What would your parents think of you being here right now?”

“To be honest, I don’t think they’d care. They don’t seem to care about much that I do or say. Since we moved here, I feel like I’m invisible. Some days, I think I could shout in my parents’ face, and they wouldn’t hear me. You’re the first person who has listened to me in weeks, and I haven’t even said anything that important.”

I sensed a friendship forming between us. She smoothed her long brown hair back while she was talking. Her perfume was sweet, feminine, and intoxicating. Her eyes displayed an innocence about her, but that did not make me want her any less. If anything, it made me want her even more.

“Tell you what. You’re welcome here anytime you like. I get off at 5 every day, and I’m home by 6, normally. I’m usually off on weekends. Drop by anytime you like, and we can do…whatever.”

Angie’s face lit up as if she’d made her first friend. “I’d love that! Thank you!”

Weeks went by, and Angie became a regular at my house. She would stop by on random evenings, and some weekends. We would go to movies, to the bookstore, or go for ice cream. Sometimes, we would just stay in and watch TV, find funny things on the internet, or listen to music. Angie had earned my trust, and I eventually had a key made for her, so that she could let herself in, even when I wasn’t home.

I would come home to Angie a couple of times a week. Her schedule at her job was irregular, and she never worked the same hours in consecutive weeks, so I never knew when I would arrive home to find her there. Sometimes, she would be watching TV, reading magazines on the couch, or taking a nap. She had even decided one day that she would clean my house. She arrived early on her day off, and began to clean up, organizing as best she could. She did an outstanding job, and I have to admit that I really enjoyed the days that I came home to her.

One time I came home, and heard water running. She was upstairs in my shower. I didn’t mind this at all, but the thought of this young, perfectly shaped woman naked in my shower, waiting to be taken, was overwhelming to me. I thought about the water beading on her tanned skin. I thought about her caressing herself all over, paying particular attention to her large breasts, and her pussy. I considered running into the bathroom, jumping in the shower while fully clothed, and taking her. Again, I decided against it. I ran downstairs, and in my half-bath, I masturbated quickly. I wanted to fuck Angie more than ever. We had never had much physical contact, outside of a good night hug, but that contributed to my longing.

One evening, we went to the bookstore together. I grabbed a couple of books to thumb through, and Angie gathered several women’s magazines to look at. One of the magazines had a shapely blonde model on the cover, her breasts and pubic area strategically covered by her hands. Angie sat next to me, and began to read the magazine.

“That is just sexy.” I said.

Angie looked up at me and said, “What?”

“The model on the cover, and the pose they captured her in. That’s good photography.”

Angie looked at the cover again, examined it for a moment, then turned to me and asked, “What is sexy to you?”

“Sexy is that extra, intangible something that someone has that can’t be purchased, explained, or developed. Someone is either sexy, or they are not. I think a woman can be beautiful, but not sexy. ‘Sexy’ is when you can look at someone, at get aroused just at the sight of them.”

“Wow.” Angie replied. She thought about it for a moment, and then asked me, “Do you think that I’m sexy?”

“Angie, you are the sexiest woman I know. I thought that when we first met months ago sitting exactly where we are right now.”

“Then why don’t guys like me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never told you this, but…I’ve never been kissed. I feel like I live in my twin sister’s shadow.”

“What about when you were in school?”

“It just never happened. Sometimes I think back, and I think that I just wasn’t ready. I went to prom, and dances and that kind of thing, but every time a guy made a move on me, I pulled away. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was my braces. I’m not sure.” She paused for a minute, staring at nothing in particular. I, however, was staring at her tanned, smooth, toned legs that the mini-skirt she wore that evening showed off.

“Angie, I don’t know what the problem is. I’ve only known you for a little while, but I do know that I love hanging out with you, talking to you, and just as much, I love to look at you.” Even though I meant everything I was saying, she had no idea how much I still thought about how badly I wanted to fuck her.

She smiled widely, showing off her braces whether anyone liked it or not. She had no idea that I was thinking about taking her on the couch where I sat.

A few days later, I got off from work early, and headed home. Angie’s car was parked outside. I parked my car, walked inside, and heard the television on. I walked into the living room, and I found Angie sitting on my couch, watching my tape with Andrea B. A wave of fear ran through me, and I felt as if I’d never have her now. I also felt slightly angry, because I trusted her. Knowing her the way I do, though, I know it wasn’t meant in a sneaky way. She probably would have asked me at some point, face to face. Angie was innocent in many ways, and I thought that if she viewed these explicit tapes of me with other women, she would lose interest in me.