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Gilbert was one of life's unfortunates.
Guardian Angel II
Gilbert is one of life’s unfortunates. He was born with very few aces in his pack and so he sometimes deserves a treat from his guardian angel. You may remember me from the other Guardian Angel story. You have all met the Gilbert’s of this world. They don’t seem to stand a chance in life’s rich race but then they get something that makes us all wonder and wonder…

Gilbert is tall with a great round head upon which is gathered a bad haircut and a bulbous nose. His lips are just a little to prominent – bad botox is the best description. His frame is best described as rangy – at worst, gangly. His one ace is a penis of immense proportion. This would be a great attraction to certain ladies if only they could be persuaded past the shop front of his looks and personality. His conversation is minimal being constrained by a total shyness that renders his vocal cords paralysed during most encounters with the opposite sex. He doesn’t visit too many clubs. Museums he loves. Quiet, lonely and you are expected to move only slowly and say nothing. Brilliant.

Another unfortunate is Kathleen. A full figure and not tall is the kind way of saying short and fat although really she is not quite that. Stick with the full figure and not tall. She has one ace in her pack but I won’t reveal that yet. She is a museum curator. A good one at that, and looks after a whole department in a big London museum in charge of Egyptology; useful in Scrabble.

So two unfortunates and a rainy Tuesday afternoon. Time for a little treat I tell myself as I steer Gilbert’s footsteps into the Egypt section. Mummies line the walls, Gods shuffle sideways along the freeze and Gilbert feels something of the Egyptian sun on his face as he examines a case full of exquisitely carved scarabs. I find Kathleen and indicate the stooping Gilbert. I waft my wing gently against her neck (it feels like the hair on the back of your neck standing up. Now you know: guardian angel’s wing.) and sense her body give a little shiver. She advances and I stroke her pussy, very softly.
‘They are quite beautiful, aren’t they. Eighteenth dynasty 1570-1293 bc.’ She murmurs.
Gilbert makes a croaking noise which Kathleen takes as an expression of wonder. She can feel the heat coming off him (embarrassment, as it happens) and basks in it. I brush her nipples with my wing (clothes are as nothing to us angels) She wriggles her shoulders beneath the white work blouse and Gilbert notices the little points push against the taut material. His cock stirs and the plump woman moves closer to him.
‘These are Jasper but we have more downstairs in store. Amethyst,’ she says the word with a breathy passion and flushes the length and breadth of her full, pink body. ‘Would you like to see them?’ Her nipples tighten a little more.
Gilbert, his vocal cords in embarrassed stasis, croaks a near approximation of yes and Kathleen leads him down the hall, through a little side door and down, down, down into the yellow lit basement to room 1146. She feels a little moist between her legs.

A little about Kathleen’s past. At university she had excelled in her studies largely due to the fact that she was not often invited out to the many parties that happen in such establishments. Her change of direction happened as a result of a bet between three fairly popular lads – all reading archaeology; great diggers! – who got into a discussion about group sex. The niceties of the arguments revolved around the actual grouping. Two men one girl, two and two, two girls one man? The permutations went round and round until the boldest of them said that the three of them should fuck one girl as this would be easier to concentrate on, there being three holes to choose from (forgive them, they were the worse for drink) and most of the other groupings ended up with, quite literally, a spare prick at an orgy. They proposed certain girls but, and this is something that is often overlooked, they were a little bit afraid of most of the buxom glamour girls who ruled the roost in their circle.
‘What about Kath? Said one.
‘Tubby little bugger up in Egyptology? Come on, I mean…’
‘Big tits,’ said another.
‘Big arse,’ said a third warming to the idea.
‘Yeah, but…’
‘A cunt’s a cunt. And she can’t afford to be too choosy (how true he was), she’d jump at it.’

So it was arranged and Kathleen was wooed away from the bar one evening at just the right state of inebriation. Kisses were exchanged with the most handsome of the three and gradually the others joined the chase, stealing kisses and gentling her thigh above the tops of her stockings. Kath for her part didn’t need too much wooing; she was hungry for sex and had of late imagined growing old wedded to her midnight finger and a vibrator. To cut a long story short they fucked her until they were too exhausted to move. They explored every part of her body. They came all over her and finally they paid homage to her by giving her a perfect shower and promising to do it again sometime. (They did, often. A cunt’s a cunt!)

So Kathleen, hot as hell now, stands with the dumbstruck Gilbert in the little basement room. There is no sound except the sigh of the air-conditioning. Kath pulls out a tray of Amethyst scarabs which gleam in the yellow light. She leans across and lifts one gently from the pad then holds it up between them. Gilbert sees the gem level with her red lips. I brush his cock and he reaches forward as if to touch it then lets his hand drop onto her white blouse. She urges her nipple into his hand. ‘Isn’t that lovely?’ She lays the gem back onto the pad and pushes the draw closed with her broad hip. A simple move unbuttons the blouse to reveal the full, white brassier and her hand drops to find Gilbert’s hard, straining cock. She tilts her face up and parts her lips for Gilbert’s full mouth and sucks his tongue into her own mouth. She urges on it remembering the lovely cocks that she had taken thus in university. Full, hard cocks, in spasm just prior to filling her mouth with hot, salty spunk. First one, then the next and then the last coming early on her face and between her tits. She sucks Gilbert’s tongue and pulls his zip down reaching in for his hard. It is enormous. She draws away to look down at it. Then grasps it in both her hands. It is hard and hot, bucking against her grip and she wants it in her.

She remembers the three boys, remembers lowering her bum onto such a stiffness. Further in than any finger had ever been. Right down until her cheeks nestled his pubic hair. And then the exquisite pleasure as the other boy’s prick began to nudge it’s way into her open cunt, finding the opening and then sliding into her with the sureness of a conjurors sword: a quick hard thrust, right up until his balls nestled on the other boy’s hot sack and both pricks began to shag like hungry predators.

Gilbert is busy lifting her tits out of the bra cups. The heavy flesh hot in his hands and the nipples wine dark against her pale flesh. Kathleen struggles with the clip at her skirt waist finally pulling the eyelets out then pushing the entire sheath of her underclothes down and treading them into a heap at her feet. She nuzzles Gilbert’s prick into her hot bush rubbing the purple helmet onto her clitoris. Gilbert pushes and the full length slides deep into her cunt. His long arms reach around her bum to pull the heavy cheeks apart.

Kathleen remembers the two hungry cocks from the past. Sees herself once more wriggling on their thick, hot shafts. The third boy rubs his juicy tip across her red painted mouth. Her lips glisten - a moment of glamour – then open to accept the heavy tip. She tongues it then lets it right in as if she would swallow it’s entire length. She finds Gilbert’s mouth and rapes it with her tongue. He sucks on her and she comes. Her cunt goes into spasm pulling the cock right into her waiting womb. Then with a quick movement she plays her ace. Letting her knees collapse she takes Gilbert’s hard into her mouth. Sucks it in. Cups his balls and wanks him. His come is hot and copious. He shoots into her mouth, withdraws and shoots again on her cheek. She squeezes his heavy sack and he shoots again over her big tits and watches his milk run into her lovely cleavage. She works her tits with it. Licks it from his cock. Licks it from her fingers. This is the nectar she craves. Gilbert’s cock still pulses at each lick.

The security man, upstairs in a pokey little monitor room, had finished his sandwich and screwed the cap onto his Thermos. He then checked all the building cameras to make sure the museum was still intact. At store room 1146 he pressed the hold button. The curator of Egyptology, almost entirely naked, was sucking a man’s cock. He watched, fascinated, as the man obviously reached his climax – the cameras were mute so no sound – then pulled his cock out of her mouth to come on her face and again between her lovely big tits. They were stupendous.

He pushed his chair back and flicked the door’s security bolt closed. The camera was recording, he could see the little green blinker winking as he dropped his fly and hauled out a fairly impressive and extremely stiff cock. He began to wank slowly but soon realised that he had come in at the end of the show. He watched the now naked curator lift a chair from the stack and give it to the man helping herself to one and placing it opposite him. For a few moments they slumped, as far as it is possible to slump in a plastic chair, as if exhausted.

The security man was still getting his money’s worth however. The curator was a big bundle of sex. Her tits were full and looked heavy. The nipples showed almost black on the monochrome screen and she massaged the remains of the come into them with the care usually given to applying an expensive skin cream. Her legs lay apart revealing a thick, dark bush below her plump white belly.

Just at that moment she pushed her fingers down the cleft and expertly parted the labia. Oh boy! He wanked a little harder. She began to rub herself off. Oh boy! He was really enjoying this. His chair pushed back as he stiffened his legs. She said something and the big man knelt down and began to lick at her cunt. She pulled his head in as if she would envelope it entirely and he could plainly see her hips heaving against the hot, questing tongue. Very gradually the man was getting harder. Jeez he was a big bugger. The security man squeezed his own tool. Well, big enough. The wife liked swivelling on it. This guy though.

She said something else and the big guy dutifully laid down. The camera angle was just right and he watched the man fondle his cock into an erection as the curator knelt astride his face. She shagged his tongue and reached out to pump his now pretty stiff cock. As a guardian angel I intervened at this point and held the security man’s enthusiasm in check; he was in danger of coming too soon. I knew what was on the menu.
The curator rose and went to one of the storage trays. She lifted a long black dildo out (I knew it was an obsidian justice rod, similar to a mace but smooth and lightly carved to look like a snake), and then began to lower her hips onto the now very stiff, monster cock. It took the wanking watcher a moment to understand that the cock was now inching up her back passage. He liked that and wanked harder.
‘Must see if the wife can do that’, he thought as the curator leaned her head back and took the rod into her mouth.
When the cock was right up her bum - he could see her bush right down to the lucky bugger’s balls - she took the black dildo from her mouth and pushed it hard into her juicy quim. The guy must have been taking her full weight for now she began to frig her clitoris while still working the rod’s full length into herself.
She came. The security man came and surprisingly, with a little help from me, Gilbert shot his second load deep into the writhing woman’s fat bum.

‘Bloody hell,’ said the security man. ‘I could get a bob of two out of that tape.’ And then he thought again. He liked the curator. She was kind and now he wondered what were his chances of getting up between those ample thighs and sucking on those large, dark nipples. He slipped the tape from the machine and filled in a fault form. A cunt's a cunt after all.

A good result I felt, for a rainy Tuesday afternoon. Kathleen and Gilbert became an item which is always lovely. They would screw for hours and Kathleen would show him tricks to make her come that he had never even dreamt of. The security man took the tape home and copied it onto a couple of discs, then recorded some tv static over the revealing section and bundled it into the fault form to take in the next day.
Later, he got his wife to have a look at the disc on one wine filled evening and found that she did like it up her bum. Even better, she liked pushing her vibrator up his bum.
A result I think.
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