Her Guardian Angel

The first time she saw him she almost laughed. He was roly-poly, and wide-eyed, as if he was seeing the world for the first time. An image of the Pillsbury Dough Boy popped into her head and she chuckled all the way to work.

The second time she saw him was in her office parking lot and that surprised her; first because she had never seen him there before and second, because she had driven very fast, as usual, and he didn't even seem to have a car.

The third time she saw him was back at her apartment parking lot, after work. This time she was frightened. He was standing just a few feet away from her reserved parking spot and her front door. He still had that stupid look of amazement on his face, but she knew from experience that the world was full of weirdos, and this was probably one of them.

She got her can of chemical Mace out, checked that it was in working order, then waited for the DoughBoy to move. He didn't. He just stood there, lightly bouncing on his feet, like he had to go to the bathroom; that same silly look on his face. She judged the distance from the car to her front door. Ten, twelve feet at the most. The DoughBoy was about twenty to her right. He would be blocked by three cars and a hedge. She got her key out, opened the car door and dashed for her apartment.

"Hi, there!"

"Wha . . .?" she yelped in surprise. The doughboy was right by her side at the door! Suddenly startled, and genuinely scared, she dropped her keys; her back flush against her door. How did he get here so fast?

The Pillsbury Dough Boy smiled inanely at her. "Hi," he said again.

She fumbled for the Mace can, almost dropping that too.

"Don't come near me!" she ordered, the Mace pointed directly at him. "Keep away from me. I'll scream!"

His pudgy eyes blinked rapidly at her; his face a mask of incomprehension. He snapped his fingers and suddenly they were in the middle of her living room.

"Oh my God! How . . . what happened?" she asked aloud in a scared and shrill voice. The door was still locked and bolted from the inside. The windows were still closed.

"What's the matter?" he asked pleasantly.

"The . . . the door," she stuttered, "How did we get by the door? What did you do? Who are you? Don't come near me!" She pointed the Mace can at him again. He extended his hand, index finger pointed and she felt her grip on the Mace can begin to loosen. She squeezed harder, gripping it with both hands but couldn't hold on to it. Her fingers came loose and she gaped in disbelief as the Mace can floated free, across the room and settled in Doughboy's chubby hand.

She stood there, transfixed, eyes wide and staring. It was a full five seconds before she found her voice. "Who are you?" she said, softly.

"I'm Hubert. Your Guardian Angel!"

Oh, God, a fruit loop! I'm locked in with a loony!

"Don't be frightened," he said as he watched her eyes search desperately for a way out, "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help you."

"This is a trick, right? You've hypnotized me, or something. This isn't happening." She had backed herself up against the living room wall. There was no where else to go.

"Trick? This is no trick. I really am your Guardian Angel."

"Oh, Christ!" she wailed.

"Please, lets not get blasphemous." he said in a hurt tone, then asked in wonder, "Are you scared of me?"

"Oh, no! People make cans float in the air all the time. Going through walls is an everyday event. What the hell do you think?" she screamed at him, on the verge of hysteria.

"Please forgive me," he said, in that soft cherubic voice of his, "They were such small things, I didn't think they would frighten you. Please sit down. I really don't mean you any harm."

She realized that she was over her initial panic; her breathing almost normal now. Slowly, cautiously she sat on the sofa. "You sit over there," she said. It was an order.

"Thank you," he said politely. "Let's start over again. My name is Hubert and I'm your Guardian Angel."

"You said that already. What's this all about?"

"Oh, yes, dear me. I should have explained that right away. You see, we discovered that there's been a terrible oversight made. You are not what you're supposed to be."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Well," he continued, "we found out that you were destined to be a world famous courtesan, and somehow, through an inexcusable mistake, you were never given the right . . . guidance, so I'm here to help you make up for the last twenty years, and, of course, to offer our deepest apologies."

I knew it, she thought, a fruit loop! "I'm supposed to be a courtesan? Me? Isn't that somebody who . . ."

"Gives pleasure to all she meets," he finished for her.

This is a huge practical joke she told herself. Any minute someone is going to leap out of the closet and yell, "Smile, You're on Candid Camera." This just couldn't be happening to an over forty woman who was fighting the battle of the bulge, and owed her hair color to Miss Clarol. She wondered how they did the special effects, but despite herself, she was intrigued.

"A courtesan, right? A happy hooker? The people up there" she pointed her finger up towards the ceiling "want me to . . . go to bed with men? To . . . screw?"

He looked at the direction of her finger, uncomprehending. Then a smile lit his chubby face. "Oh, no, you misunderstand me," he said, "Those people have nothing to do with this."

"You said you're my Guardian Angel."

"That's true, but I come from . . ." his finger pointed toward the floor . . . "there!"

"From Hell?"

"We don't call it that," he said quickly, in defense. "It's really like Los Angles, and up there . . . " he made a face, "is like Burbank. We just live life to the fullest."

She stared at him incredulously. "You're nuts! You're a bona fide loony-toon, and I want you out of here. Now!"

He jumped up, a look of distress on his face. "Oh, please, don't do that. This is my first really big assignment. Please, let me show you." He snapped his fingers and a large book appeared in his hand.

"Stop doing that!" she yelled.

"Here we are. See! The book says that at thirteen you have your first sexual experience. By seventeen you have seduced the entire football team of your high school, and several male teachers. And one female teacher, too. By the time you are twenty-five you should've had sex with over a thousand men and women, bringing joy and light to their lives. In fact, at this point of your life you should have changed the morals of almost the entire country."

"Let me see that."

He held up the book for her to see. It was ornate. Parchment, she thought. Very elaborate. Someone had gone though a lot of trouble. Okay, she thought, I'll play along. "So what happened? How come I ended up Miss Goody two-shoes?"

"Somebody made a mistake," he said contritely. "But I'm here to make amends and get you back on the right track so you can fulfill your destiny."

Suddenly she was angry and embarrassed. "Listen to me, Hubert, Asshole, or whatever your name is. I'm forty-two years old, frumpy, and I've had sex three times in my life. Each time was worse than the other. I'm damn near frigid. Do you understand that, you bastard!" There were tears in her eyes now. "I can't cum. I don't climax. I don't even like it. Now you get your ass the hell out of here. Through the door, through the wall; I don't care how, just get the hell out!"

He closed the book softly, a look of compassion on his face. "That's not quite true. What you said about cumming, that is. You masturbate nearly every night, and cum each time. In your night table you have an electric vibrator and three dildos. You love the way they feel in you, but you're always embarrassed afterwards. As far as sex goes, you really love it, but you've been taught that it's dirty and degrading. You're full of guilty inhibitions. I intend to change that."

She sat down on the couch, heavily; awe on her flushed face. How does he know? How? Could he REALLY be what he says he is? she wondered in amazement.

"I can see you're still not sure. Would you like me to tell you your favorite fantasies? You're really quite imaginative, even if you believe that you'd never do those things."

"No," she said, softly.

Hubert stood in front of her and placed his hand on her forehead. His eyes lost their softness. In its place was a strength she didn't believe possible for anyone to have. His whole persona seem to change in front of her eyes. His fingers squeezed her temples, but didn't hurt; a mist clouded her eyes.

"Henceforth, you will be lustful! There will be no shame, no embarrassment, no taboos. You will revel in the pleasures of the flesh! You will have no boundaries and you will have no inhibitions! So say I, Hubert, Guardian Angel of this mortal woman." His hand fell away. "There! It's done," he said.

The haze before her eyes began to fade. She felt relaxed and somehow alive. Her mind was completely aware of her bodily functions; her heart beat, the warmth in the pit of her stomach, the juice of her pussy. Pussy! Had she really thought that word? She crossed her legs and automatically squeezed the lips of her cunt together. A surge of pleasure coursed through her body, so intense, she gasped.

"Felt good, didn't it?"

She looked at him, through slited eyes, and nodded.

Hubert held out his hand then led her to the full-length mirror in the hallway. She searched her image for the change. It was there, she knew it was; she was different, more alive, more . . . desirable, more she sought the right word horny! Yes, horny! She was hot! She wanted sex! She wanted to fuck! To feel the pleasures of a big cock in her cunt! Her mouth! Her ass! Oh, I want it so badly, she thought. Her image mocked her. She was still who she was. The changes were in her mind, not her body. Her face showed her disappointment. Her shoulders sagged.

"What's the matter?" Hubert asked.

"Look at me. Yuck!"

"Oh, is that all. Watch the mirror," he said and pointed his finger at her. The tingling sensation began at the top of her head, radiating through her hair, down her shoulders. She felt the skin of her body tighten, become smooth; the age lines disappear. Her stomach muscles stretched and became taut. Her legs firmed and her chest swelled and lifted, straining the front of her dress. A sudden fear gripped her as she watched the metamorphosis. She was no longer who she was. She was beautiful! Beautiful and built! She could feel her tits chaffing against the binding material.

"It's done," he said. "Take off your clothes and look at yourself."

She looked at Hubert, then at her restrictive clothes. With a smile, and sudden elation, she began pulling them off, completely unselfconscious. Naked, she saw her new body. Her face was smooth and unlined, her hair, lustrous, and raven black. Two, full, upright globes of sensitive flesh swelled from her chest, the nipples large and already erect. She could see the defined muscles on her flat stomach, the perfect sweep of her hips; her tapered, long legs. The hair around her cunt was thick and coarse; a drop of pussy juice glistened on a strand. Turning slowly she could see her firm, heart-shaped ass in the mirror. She was young! She was beautiful! She was perfect!

She threw her arms around Hubert, tears in her eyes. "Oh, thank you. Thank you. If this is a dream I don't ever want to wake up."

"It's no dream," he said, running his hand down her naked back and firm flanks. A sudden lust filled her body. She looked at him for the first time, not as a cartoon character, or a Guardian Angel, but as a man. And a man has a cock, she thought.

"I'm sorry," he said, reading her mind, "but I can't indulge.

Peevishly, she stepped away from him. "Hubert, you're suppose to be my Guardian Angel. How can I become a great piece of ass with only three assholes to my credit? I've never even sucked cock!" Throwing her arms around him, she rubbed her pussy against his crotch. No reaction.

"Shit, Hubert. I'm hot and horny. I need practice if I'm going to set the world on fire."

He smiled, slipped a finger in her wet cunt and tweaked her clit. Her mouth dropped open in surprise as a small climax rippled through her body. She panted with pleasure. It's true! It's all true, she thought in delight. I can fuck! I want to fuck!

"I intend to help you do just that," he said with a smile. We're going to take it one step at a time. Sit there." He indicated the wing chair.

"Now play with yourself."

"What?"

"Stick your finger in your cunt and make yourself cum. Feel the pleasures that you can really give yourself now."

"I want to fuck," she said.

"Do it!" His voice rang with authority.

Suddenly, she was acutely aware of her nakedness and her own vulnerability. She had never played with herself in front of anyone and she hesitated, then looked into Hubert's eyes. Desire filled her body. Her love juices began to flow. Her breath became short, and a strange tightness gripped her loins. Pulling her legs up she exposed the thick lips of her cunt. Her hand rubbed the rounded mound, her finger sliding in easily. She sighed, closed her eyes and began to finger-fuck herself.

"Oooh, yess!" she breathed. She felt so good she wanted to cry out loud. Her head rolled from side to side as she squirmed in the chair, her right hand jerking rhythmically between her legs, she massaged her belly and tits with her left. Her new, smooth and silky, body responded with wild sensations. Squeezing her thighs around her twisting right hand, she rocked her loins up and down, fucking herself on her still, twisting middle finger. She lifted her tits with her left hand, pushing them toward her face, darting her wet tongue at the hard, extended nipples.

Each flick of her tongue across her sensitive flesh sent a rush of electric pleasure through her body, making her steaming cunt contract. Her asscheeks flexed as she humped forward, and upward, fucking herself on her slippery finger. Hot pussy juice seeped down her inner thigh, into her asscrack, onto the seat of the chair. It left a moist stain on the soft cushion under her ass.

"Ooooh, yesss!" she cried, no longer trying to stifle her moans of pleasure. She was in heaven! Her body began to surge with excitement. "I'm cumming!" she wailed. As spasms erupted in her loins, she arched up, her cunt sucking greedily at her finger. "Yesss! Yessss!" Brilliant colors exploded in her brain as the fantastic pleasure surged through her jerking her body out of control. Her eyes rolled back, and her heels dug deep into the seat of the chair. She jerked up and down, humping wildly with each rush of spasm through her body. Pussy juice turned to thick cream, frothing from her cunt and dribbling down her thighs. She was a juicy mess, and she loved it!

Pleasure was all that mattered. She could die feeling this good and she wouldn't care. Slowly, the tremors subsided. She collapsed in the chair, melting into the cushions. Sweat misted her body and she shivered in the sudden chill of the air. She gasped as she pulled her finger out of her cunt. Her cunt cream was slowly running down its length. Impulsively, she stuck her finger in her mouth, her tongue licking at her own fuckjuices. The tart taste thrilled her and her sweaty body began to throb again with heat. She sighed with total pleasure.

Hubert knelt beside her, wiping her body with a cool, damp washcloth. The rough nap sent new thrills through her super-sensitive body. Her legs opened wide, allowing him to clean her hot, sticky pussy. Her mind slipped into a warm, post-orgasmic semi-consciousness. The cum had been fantastic! No matter how many times she masturbated in the past, she had never reached this peak. Was it because he was watching? She realized that she had enjoyed the look on his face. Even if he wasn't going to fuck her, she had gotten to him; she knew it. His eyes had lit up when she had spread her cuntlips apart, giving him a great view of her pink cuntwalls. Oh, you wanton bitch, she thought, with a smile. How you do love it!

"Very nice," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "Now you're ready for step two."

"Step two?" she asked, her mind quickly alert; her body alive. "What's that?"

He smiled at her. "Getting fucked, of course," he said, stating what should appear obvious.

She gave him a suspicious smile, and wiggled her hips at him in an obscene way. "I though you weren't going to fuck me."

"I'm not," he said, snapping his fingers. "He is!"

The man appear from no where. He was gorgeous! An Adonis! Tall, blond, handsome, and well built. He was also naked. His thick cock and balls hung heavily between his legs. Startled by his instantaneous appearance and the frightening size of his manhood, she gasped, putting her hand to her mouth in sudden fear.

"Does he meet with your approval?" Hubert asked.

Eyes wide, mouth open, her head nodded almost imperceptibly. Hubert knew that he would.

The adonis smiled at her. There was desire in his eyes. She saw his cock twitch, then begin to grow. Her eyes widened in amazement. It was huge! Thick and heavily ridged with exposed veins. She stared at the enormous erection, frankly, licking her lips. It's nine inches long and seven inches thick!

How did I know that, she wondered. But she knew it was accurate. His prick was magnificent. She tried to swallow; her mouth suddenly dry. But only her mouth was dry. Her body had sent a signal to her brain and her cunt was flooded anew with a gush of fresh love juice. She could feel the lust flow through her body.

The adonis held out his hand, and slowly she reached for it. Hubert snapped his fingers again. They were in her bedroom, on the bed, locked in a tight embrace; the urgency of their needs surging through them. Hubert sat on her hope chest, at the foot of the bed, smiling his inane smile. She didn't care.

Adonis had large, strong hands and they roamed her firm body at will; squeezing, kneading her hot flesh. He sucked on her nipples and she yelped in pleasure as he roughly nibbled at them. She was panting. Her hands gripped his thick shoulders, ran down his bare back to his hard ass. He had beautiful buns. She could feel his stiff cock press against the sensitive skin of her squirming thigh.

"Oh, yesss," she moaned, "Yesss! Suck my titties! Yeah! Oh, God, my pussy's creaming!"

Adonis pulled her to the edge of the bed, spreading her legs wide. Her entire cunt was exposed. He lowered himself until he was kneeling beside the bed, his breathing heavy and shaky. "Oh, sweet, sweet pussy!" he exclaimed. "I'm gonna eat you all up."

She gasped at his words, almost losing control. She had never had her cunt eaten before. She wanted it badly. She stifled a gasp as his thumbs spread the spongy edges of her thick pussylips and pushed them apart. His breath was hot against her open crotch. He gave her clit a short, fleeting, flick of his tongue. A shock wave rippled through her body, sending an electric sensation all the way to her toes. Her fingers dug into the satin comforter that covered the bed.

"Mmmmmmm," he whispered, kissing up and down the inside of her cunt, tasting the sticky juice that flowed like hot sap. He nuzzled the thick hair aside and slipped his long tongue into her hot box. She moaned out loud, unable to stop herself, not wanting to. She shoved her cunt deeper onto his squirming tongue, and the pleasure began to wash over her like waves on the shore.

Through slited eyes she saw his blond head bobbing between her thighs. She wrapped her long legs around him and pulled his face deep into her gushing cunt. He growled softly, drinking her rich fuck-juices, as he licked out her contracting pussyhole. Without warning, he roughly sucked her clit into his mouth and began racing the tip of his tongue over the super sensitive love bump. She screamed.