Lady

"Could I kind of loosen something there for you?"

"Rand, darling, I'm here to be whatever you want me to be and do whatever you want me to do. All you have to do is to say the words."

Disbelievingly, unbelievingly, as stunned as a billion to one lottery winner, I tugged at a bow at the top of her teddy and watched the scarlet material open up like the red sea to let the true believers have free passage. Like the Israelites, I was also beginning to feel like my guardian angel had finally gotten back on my case after one hell of a long vacation.

"Do you like what you see, Rand?"

Somehow, somebody had pushed a pool ball down my throat. "It looks like the promised land," I croaked as we both looked at an exposed breast as though it was a work of art. Well, it sure was as far as I was concerned. A side order of heaven with a tight little cherry on the top.

"My turn now."

"Uh!"

Conversation wise, I was doing about as well as a mentally retarded parrot. But there's something about having a beautiful girl pulling down your pants which slows down certain parts of your nervous system and sends sparks through the rest of a guy's neurons. Especially when you've known the girl seeking carnal knowledge of you about as long as it takes to boil an egg.

It suddenly occurred to me that maybe I'd had an heart attack or something already and died on the couch. Maybe this was the after life and it only looked like my apartment and Chloe was an angel sent as a kind of meeter and greeter. It didn't seem like a bad theory but if I was right, and this was how they behaved in heaven, there were going to be some real surprised church leaders by and by, including the Pope and Billy Graham.

Naw, the one thing every religion on earth I'd ever agreed on was that God had no use for any kind of fun: if this was really the afterlife I was down below in the coal cellar and loving every minute of it so far.

The next minute didn't disappoint either because Chloe knelt down in front of me, slid her hands between my legs and took each of my balls in her palms as gently if she was stealing eggs from underneath a sleeping chicken. My throat seemed almost as stiff as my cock as I tweaked the tips of her taut little boobs as though they were channel selectors and I was looking for the best show around.

It seemed like I'd already got it anyway because having foreplay with Chloe felt like I was caddying for Tiger Woods. I'd do the heavy work but when it came to the finer strokes of sexual technique I'd just have to stand by and watch an expert at work. Where in the name of Middle Earth had she come from and was there any chance at all of getting her to stay around?

"Rand, why don't you help me take my top off?"