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Subject: {ASSM} TXM6 Angela Leven Part III
Date: Sat, 19 Feb 2000 23:10:06 -0500
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Angela Leven from Taxi Murders Parts III and IV
(c) 2000 Sean Thomas Farragher
>From Taxi Murders Sextet: Hyperfiction Novel



III Laurie Fallon
Early in 1992

"I miss you most," Laurie said as she hugged Aaron, leaning back
unbalanced
against Henry, and finally gracefully braced against the bare studio
wall,
she lifted her leg upward like the exotic dancer she was, presenting
that
one sculpted gam to Aaron, almost as if it were a sword.
"I miss you because Angela owns you."

Aaron said nothing. Sometimes a well placed laugh quietly directed is
all
you need.

Not content with that sign to the men, Laurie eased her long tapered
thighs
wider, marking them more open, letting her ass fall slowly down the wall
leaving a wet stain on the brown enamel paint. At the bottom, she let
her
fingers find the groove of the space between her pubis and thighs, and
accentuating the lines of her cunt opening it, playing with the inner
folds
intently she drew her own fingertips down the insides of her legs as if
her
nails would draw blood opening her ass with one last spreading screech
and
then smacking the top of her thighs, welcoming someone to sit down, as
if
the welcome of her body was not sufficient.

As both men knew that they were welcome, Laurie shifted her face
towards Aaron's hands. Waiting patiently, staring back at Henry, she
wordlessly asked Aaron to start something.

"Now, fuckers, she whispered almost purring like some silly fake pussy
cat mimic.

What hands he has, Laurie thought as the artist Aaron kissed her hair,
face and neck with the edge of his two longest fingers, lifting a
strand of the hair from her ears, and placing his lips carefully there,
sucking in a soft dance the back of Laurie's neck where her red hair
was soft and out of control.

In so doing, Aaron, always more reticent at first, could would freely
caress her breasts, pubis, thighs and kiss her easily on the lips
obviously sharing his tongues as a deceptive phallic fruit hiding from
her as he kissed and felt her breast softly aching his fingers to the
mound as Laurie watched him, wanting him to do more, pulling him lower,
biting his neck, saying fuck my mouth, please and taking hold of one of
the fingers (as it turned out Henry's) she sucked it deeply inside her
mouth.

Henry stopped them when Angela walked into the room. Not that they had
or wanted to stop, but they did, and not out of respect.

Laurie leaped up and kissed Angela full on the mouth, feeling Angela's
much larger breasts against her own rubbing back they pushed and felt
the other slowly sway in that subtle dance that they had perfected last
year when Laurie lived with Angela and Aaron.

Wearing just one high top sneaker, jumping around, dancing as the
stripper "Blaze Starr Herrig," Laurie threw her hands up, and said "I
love being naked with my public, but I love it here more for I can get
back and not just give it up."

Angela holding Laurie, almost protectively, added her hands to the two
men as they removed the last of Laurie's jeans.

Laurie rosy cheeked red hair bare ass except for that one athletic
shoe, seemed the perfect Sheelanagig (what her mother called her when
she was drunk).

"You are more splendid than Athena," Angela would offer and Henry would
bite his teeth thinking of the feel of Laurie's pale white skin against
his mind.

"Don't worry love, petting Angela's breasts from the bottom up, Laurie
kissed Angela opening her mouth slightly and holding her mouth without
motion until Angela released the tease and kissed the woman hard.

Yes, I know you want my skin, Angela said.

With that last word "skin." Angela caught Laurie and let her easy hands
waltz up to the pears of Laurie's full but delicate breasts taking
Laurie's hands in her own and kissing the palms.

Watching the men want them, Angela sucked Laurie's dark nipples,
turning her face back to them, breathing hard, saying quickly, you have
that pregnant look at last and with that she touched the top of
Laurie's pubic hair and held the soft mound that was the sign of the
child inside the skin.


2. A Second Look:

Framed by the double sized oak door and the gray light of a rainy day,
Laurie's natural red hair and long slender frame balanced against the
gray men and the black hair and almost gray eyes of Angela. The air was
open and clean and except for noise of the almost frozen rain outside,
there was heat was intense.

Henry loved it when Laurie surprised them. Angela got wetter, and
Aaron, slightly uncomfortable, because he knew that Laurie was the one
woman he thought more beautiful than Angela. Aaron, so loyal, always
added to himself. Laurie is not the artist Angela became, but lately,
Laurie's poems, pure, intense, and filled with pain, had made him feel
when she read them often late at night while Aaron painted the color's
of Laurie on an abstract canvas.

Aaron would finally say on those nights, "You are perfect."

Laurie would smile back and say, "but you feel guilty for loving my
poems."

"Yes," He would whisper. "Yes."

Laurie did not come often to these sexual gatherings. She preferred
Henry alone, but today, feeling estranged from Henry, she joined the
men with Angela.

Laurie always knew of the planned afternoons. Invitations were never
secret.

"Less confusing, she told Angela, if I have sex with you and Henry
alone, one at a time. I know our roles. I do not long for more.

When Henry told her last night that he planned to spend the next night
and day with Angela and Aaron, "I might be there too," Laurie
answered."

"I am selfish," always Laurie, the brown eyed red head shifted fast in
the light, and Laurie laughed almost as a wise warning of something
inchoate that would run into their lives larger than death or perhaps
sin. Why did I think that, Laurie remembered much later. Why does sin
sometimes play its notes as surprise?

3.
Laurie, only 26, like to tease Henry and Aaron about their age, telling
them, how she preferred younger men to them most of the time, and then
saying, you know I am fooling ya, and then she laughed again in a coy
way looking at Henry knowing she had loved the man for seven years. I
was eighteen when I first fucked him. He thought I was a slut and whore
and that seemed to turn him on more.

Henry also knew that A&A as he called them were the first pair. I have
my own, Henry would say. Not one of those woman, except recently,
Laurie, was comfortable with the threesome of Henry, Aaron and Angela.

Like palm fronds Angela's nipples and Laurie's hands, hair, and mouth
dazzled them with an arbor of lights, colorful textures, and
background.

Angela was never reasonable and often dangerous. Henry and Aaron
accepted all of it.

Imagine being married to two gracious men, Angela mocked, taking
Laurie's clit in her mouth, showing the boys, as she called them,
laughing with Laurie, "yes, do it this way, she said, putting her two
fingers on both sides of Laurie's clit, making it protrude, and then
touching the tip of the tip of her tongue to the oblate point of its
radiant centers.

"No, I don't mean you, she laughed, pulling both men on top of her.

"Why not us," Henry struck back.

Ignoring the specter of men, Angela whispered to both of them, speaking
softly, "I came three times."

"What," Aaron teased?

Repeating it, not as a confession nor for information, Henry and Aaron
certainly knew it, Angela dangling the safety rope down the cliff
pulled memory up or down, as the whim of her sexuality decreed.
Speaking, breathing, halting, I am still there, she said, always, your
tongues, positioned, as I taught you swooning with a quick pulse,
gathered, holding the crash inside, shattering the nape nerve,
returning to the ambiguity of Avernus.

Angela, happy but not yet desperate held it back. She kept Henry there,
and Aaron here at her mouth loving the tenderness and brutality of his
kiss, feeling him leap, restoring the oscillation, squeezing inside.

"Yes, of course, yes, I loved the leaking," she lied.

Reaching back, she thought, to dig his spine, and the shoal of ass, and
then grace, turned up, insistent, pulled down to the worn edges of her
halo cleft.

Now, I know. Henry assumed control. No, I let him, she dreamed,
withdrawing, like a warm thrush or the spice of the mouth held captive
on the slick of his glands. How I love the shine, pulling her head off
Henry's cock. Wiping it clean, she smiled.

"No, I will never lose contact, Angela happy, cried.

Holding hands, eyes, or lips, in the tender of blue, Angela restored
pleasure from grief. Pulling back, she gasped as Henry gasped and
finally Aaron came too inside the hands of both Angela and Henry.

"Wait I'm there," Aaron said, just before Henry tightened his hand
knowing the pulse of a cock and able to capture it.

Henry entered Angela not hard, but quickly, sliding on her hot ice,
pushing her back, deep into the grooves of the bed, grinding his pubic
bone against hers, and then crushing her ass, mounted, high up, numb,
almost, into her test. Allowing prick to bend and graze her clit, Henry
twisted the earth under her ass, making the sky very dangerous after
all.


IV Doms and Slaves: Angela, Aaron and Henry

"Take my ass, you fuck," Angela said, "and now shut the fuck up,
please. I liked it better when you were silent. "Sometimes I can't tell
who or where the fuck I am," Angela stopped on the word, "up,"
perplexed while she kissed Henry and then Aaron. "Of course, nothing is
ever perfect but what the fuck."

Angela wanted perfection. I want to come at will endlessly. I want to
melt she said into a sculpture symbol to the perfect fuck.

"I am named after angels, you know, Henry," speaking as if she believed
in them. Angels expected their men to be less and more than
children. "Equal complements," she said of child and man.

"Who the fuck told you that." Henry shook his head, turning his back to
her.

At times, Henry and Aaron played passive to Angela's dominant. The
switch was easy when they both were in the right mood.

I get there easy she once told Henry when he asked her how she knew the
right mood.

"Look inside you," she admonished him, teasing, being a bit pedantic,
keeping up the active stroke and demanding that he spank her when he
came.

"Hard," she screamed, "fucker make it harder. Don't be a pussy,"
reverting to sexist lingo, knowing how she would have hated that phrase
five years ago.

I have learned a lot about myself, she said to no one pushing her head
and Aaron's deeper into the bed, bending their necks in an impossible
position.

"I really like to take and be taken."  I want to tie you up, Henry, yes
you too," Angela said. "You game. No, why the fuck not," and then she
tickled him until he agreed and they would play out the tableau.

Changing roles like costumes, the couple played their magnificent game
almost watching for the other, keeping their partner inside the lovers
storybook as tenderness or the violence of a an ultra hard core bondage
movie.

Why does this all work, she asked herself all the time. I keep a
balance she answered herself and I think the men love each other more
than they want me and I care for my husband, Aaron more than I can ever
share, and he is the perfect man without prejudice, always in balance,
always clean in that he never puts his aches on others, and sometimes,
I hate it though, she thought. He is too fucken perfect, saying it
aloud to herself spying Henry who was almost perfect playing with her
feet massaging them making her feel more than any hands could bear
weaving the aroma of the almond oil with the spunk of dark sex on a
trapeze.

Angela always had good words for her husband. She kept them in scale
like they're up tempos or down ones. Yes, there were days when they
barely touched each other.

Hard to imagine, Henry would laugh, telling Henry how sometimes, Angela
was so into herself she wouldn't let Aaron or anyone touch her.

"Sure, I could watch her make herself come," Henry said. "Actually, I
wanted it.

When Henry, Henry and Angela first made love, before the men agreed to
fuck her at the same time, Angela liked to finish Henry first.

Angela believed that most women, myself included, believe that every
man had his own individual signature when he fucked.

When Angela Henry and Aaron together, "I knew them and their
differences but at times, when I was stoned, I could not tell who was
doing what. I loved the confusion."

'Swallow my cock," Henry said, pushing it inside her. "Don't let it
start, until, my fingers, yes, yours too are there, feeling that Aaron
strike, or was it Henry, when the muscles retch, uncontrolled. That's
it.

"Angela," Henry whispered. "Lift god into your hands, feel the flutter."

Henry stood over them leaking his mouth to Angela's vulva, saying the
word like the name of the flower.

Henry like to take it all in. He would stare while he watched them
grind for a time staring into each other's eyes, he would jerk off
imagining Laurie there, or if Laurie were there she would catch Henry's
balls while he jerked off letting the semen fly over all four of them,
and Angela would scream, "don't waste it. Put it inside me.

"I love the fluids," he'd say rubbing Angela's or Laurie's wet on his
chest.

Comfortable, sitting on the floor or chair, Henry watched the fluids
coat thighs, lips, and dick, glisten and leak. As he focused on her
clit, Angela stirred into a second orgasm, and then as she pushed down
from the top, harder, more ferocious, Henry or was it Aaron would bang
her drum.

Without withdrawing, Henry and Aaron churned the holes holding Angela
up and then down, clinging. Henry moving left to right screwed her cunt
and as the motion was like their breath, the pace grew rapid, quicker,
as she felt him hit the plane of her cervix.

Digging her nails inside Henry and Henry's neck, not cutting Henry's
skin, she knew he didn't like pain, she cut Henry, and the taxi man
schoolteacher bit her nipple back. He told her he liked the sharpness
of her claws.

Like a panther Angela's black hair, wild, shifted her head on the
pillow, smelled response. Reaching up, she came, and when he felt the
clasp, the push forward, her demon leapt and broke his back, so Henry
and imagined. Shaking from the pleasure, marking the spasm in her cunt
and ass, Angela's body lifted them up, pulled them back, one at a time,
and when Henry felt the tension shift, relax, and tighten again, and
again, four, six, ten times, he came first.

The fucking lasted, and when she finished, they came one after another
serially, flooding her.
When Henry came too the pregnant wars shifted from the egg in the eye
to semen in the mouth. My daughter is conceived, Angela laughed.

Oh, let it be true, Angela laughed. Aaron or Henry, she thought. Both
had come in her cunt, Aaron first, an hour earlier, and now Aaron
Doesn't matter to them, although they really pretend, and would be glad
if the fates chose the right one. Who is right in the festival, holy or
not, in our grief, one hour of night, or the swallow of day scared, and
nothing else is torn down but ordinary conventions.

"The timing," Angela said later was marvelous."

Empty, neither of them moving for five maybe ten minutes, and only then
shifting when his cock fully softened, released, and Angela, hoping to
get pregnant, lifted her ass up, turning over, on her knees, allowing
their semen to swim inward, drawing away their hearts into hers.

"I know," she told them later. "You both came in my cunt. What a
lottery," Angela joked.

Laurie, when she was there, knowing she already held Henry's child in
her body laughed. I have him, she said. No, not Henry, she admonished
herself, his child.

The child is Aaron's, Laurie thought. Has to be fair after all. Yes, I
know, sometimes it's not. How can we predict what is fair. After all
sex is the only perfect aroma in the world. Look at Aaron, Angela and
Henry. Look at me. I am filled with all of them. How can anyone be
jealous? Yes, I know it is rare not to be.

Later that month, Lilith and Abel abducted Laurie from the outside the
Gables pub. They just pulled up and threw her into the van.
Henry didn't know that Laurie had lied to him about her pregnancy.
Knowing Henry knew about these things, she told him her last missed
period was two months earlier than the actually date. She also told the
man she loved she didn't know the identity of the father. "It could
have been four men," she mocked. "You weren't one of them. You hadn't
loved let alone fuck me for at least a year. You jumped back in my life
too late, and were a fool like most of your kind."

When Laurie said this to Henry, she did not laugh.



(c) 1999 Sean Thomas Farragher from Taxi Murders Sextet: Hyperfiction
Novel
http://www.taximurders.com

Find my poetry at http://www.farragher.com (The Selected Poems of Sean
Farragher)

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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