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Introduction:

There's a little bit of good in everyone, and if anyone can find it it's Samael...
From the desk of Minus Three

Welcome to part three. Unlike Welt, this is a far more intimate and sexual story. It follows Samael in his task to bring some peace where it is desperately needed. Yes, there’s ‘demons’, yes there’s ‘angels’; but Samael is a different sort, more than anything he likes to see people smile and his methods are not as heavy handed as a certain other little Cherub we’ve become familiar with. Vice picks up several months after the end of Welt and the war against the Seraphim is beginning to pick up inertia. Things do not always go as well for the heroes as they’d like, but that’s what it’s like to try to change the nature of reality; there are no guarantees.

And yes there is another part after this, Pyre, that wraps the story up and returns to Aliona and her own struggles to finish what she started and return to her mortal family. This chronologically comes first though, and forms a very important part of the overall narrative that is one large story called {fold}.

Here; set the mood and enjoy Vice. http://soundcloud.com/djdanmusic/dj-dan-radio-one-essential-mix-98-future-retro-mixtape-series


Vice (1)


Oh Yes, Wait a Minute Mr. Postman…

Being immortal is a bit like watching the same reruns on television for hundreds of years. After a while nothing is new anymore; you start to feel like you can see the future just by watching for the familiar patterns and guessing what’s going to come next. After a while it’s not even like guessing anymore, you just know. After a while you get jaded to the possibility that any of them are going to surprise you. This is why following Cassidy was such a rush. I honestly believed she was a thrall until I saw her help the old lady cross the street. How could someone so selfish suddenly give me a shake like that?

At first I thought she had figured out I was following her and she was trying to throw me off, catch me unawares, put a wrench in the gears and put me off balance. The way she ignored her daughter said something about her. The way she used people said something about her. The way she pushed through life like it had all been set up just for her pleasure and comfort said something about her. The way she looked on TV, no different from how she looked in person, said something about her. The way she held that old woman’s hand as she made sure she had her unsteady feet in those blocky gray shoes under her before she smiled and went back to her SUV said something about her as well though, and now I was hooked. Cassidy Swanson, evening anchor and media darling, actually had a heart after all.

I felt the love, too; she hadn’t done it just because she thought someone might be watching. She had genuinely cared that the old bird didn’t trip and break a hip or something. I knew at that moment that instead of tracking her back to whichever filthy swine of a demon had her on his leash I had been presented with a chance to do some good here for a normal person. No one that has that kind of respect for an old woman she had never met before was too far gone to worry about. I had to do something. Wars are won with small battles.

Her hips helped. They were perfect, flaring just enough from her waist to make her look like two scoops of something delicious. Cherubs aren’t immune to the charms of a beautiful woman and Cassidy’s charms were right up my alley. In the past this would have been seen as temptation. In the past this would have been called “pining for the mortal coil”. That was the past though; we weren’t exactly doing things by the book anymore. We’d turned to the back and started writing on the blank pages as it were. We were crossing things out and scribbling in the margins. We were “off mission” as Christopher called it. We had “lost the plot” as I would have said if what we were doing didn’t feel so right.

Her breasts helped too, I’m not gonna lie to you. Well, I’d lie to you if I had to. But when it came to Cassidy’s round firm breasts you’d know I was lying and I’d look a proper fool, wouldn’t I? Oh my my; I wanted to hold them and smile and tell her everything was going to be fine. Someone like her doesn’t need reassurances; at least they tell you that they don’t. Everyone needs reassurance from time to time though, and she couldn’t be that different from everyone else, mortal or not.

It was her smile that bothered me. Even a fake smile should come hard to your lips when you’re reporting on an entire city shattered and broken by the wrath of the Lamb. I could live with the fake tan, I could live with the fake breasts, and I could live with the obnoxious fake voice she used in front of the cameras. I couldn’t live with that smile though. That’s when I’d started following her. She’d reported on the ‘disaster’ that had racked Los Angeles several months ago as though it was no big deal. Like it was business as usual. She’d downplayed what happened there more than any other reporter at the time and I’d known she must be working for them. I wasn’t so sure anymore.

Aliona had smiled and winked knowingly at me when I had volunteered to get to the bottom of it and she had gone off with her sister and Christopher to find more like I had been; the Fallen-but-not-quite-Lost. Me, I’d stayed in California and followed Cassidy Swanson back to Hollywood. I’d followed her nice round ass and perfect collagen smile for months now, trying to figure out exactly what it was I intended to do here. No demon seemed to be pulling her strings, and yet I felt something resonate around her. A deep disharmony in the Choir that I couldn’t ignore. I’d been unsuccessful so far in finding out exactly what that was; all I had was a mental list of her faults and failings. Three times now I’d almost broke the ice and approached her, but if I was wrong and there was something infernal behind the scenes I’d have tipped my whole hand and forced a confrontation with something I wasn’t ready for.

As she yelled at the drycleaner I sat on a bench outside and listened. Where was the white blouse? What was this grey mark on her tan skirt? How could they be so stupid? She ran up one side of the small Italian woman and down the other, using her voice the way Aliona used the Spear of Penance. I’d given it back to her when she showed up out of nowhere and told us the plan. I’d been happy to be rid of it, too much responsibility, and she’d been reluctant to take it back. Refusal of power was a sign of a good leader and we’d all agreed easily to join her and take a stand against the Fold. I knew what I was doing; I was giving up what I had just gotten back. It was worth doing though; freedom was a right, not a privilege, and we all deserved it.

Cassidy told the poor woman to go fuck herself and left in a huff, the plastic around her clothes swirling around her strong looking legs as her glossy black hair swirled around her shoulders. She was a cyclone of anger, all huffs and puffs and eyes of disdain. I got over my fear of failure and reached to gently brush against her with a tiny tendril of love; the kind of love we should all feel for each other, not the deeper lust I felt when I saw her hips sway as she carefully put each high heeled foot in front of the other on her way to where she had parked at the curb. She shrugged her shoulders uncomfortably like someone had poked her in the back. Had it been so long that love felt so foreign to her? She opened the back door on the passenger’s side, threw her clothes in the back, and slammed the door. A bit of thin plastic and the corner of a smart looking blazer were stuck in the door as she stalked to the other side and got in the driver’s seat.

I remembered that jacket; she’d worn it three nights ago while she read the news, extolling atrocities and violence and madness from around the world like she was politely ordering lunch at a fast food restaurant. I’d never seen her in a fast food restaurant but I imagined that she wouldn’t be as pleasant there as she was when she talked to the cold lens of a camera. I chuckled to myself at how foolish she would feel if she knew it was sticking out like that, ragged and clumsy looking. She’d see it as an affront to her carefully rehearsed and planned external demeanor. This was probably the best chance I’d ever have, tipped hand be damned. I stood and crossed the sidewalk and knocked on the passenger side window.

She looked up, rolled the window down, and snapped, “Yeah, what?”

“Your jacket is hanging out over here,” I said, smiling and flashing my green eyes at her.

“So?” she snarked at me. “What do you want?”

“Here, I’ll get it for you,” I said helpfully, running a hand through my unkempt blonde hair and opening the back door to rescue her blazer.

“Hey! Get away from my car!” she said, leaning around her seat to look at me through the back door I had opened.

“There, all better,” I said, winking at her after I’d straightened out the dry cleaning and closed the door again. I didn’t put anything into it, I usually didn’t have to. She just glared at me.

“Great, now piss off,” Cassidy said bitterly before driving off.

Well; that had gone better than I’d expected. I was a bit surprised she’d resisted that little piece of charm, but in retrospect I should have expected as much. She was going to be a tough nut to crack. I’d have to find some other way in. Some other way to get her to open up a little bit so I could see what was inside without forcing her open and peering in. The thought of ‘forcing her open’ made me smile. I did want to force her open, but not in that way. I’d much rather put my hands on the insides of her knees and push them apart to move between and show her that life didn’t have to be all ignorance and lack of manners. Life didn’t have to be throwing coffee at assistants and yelling at little Italian dry cleaners. Life could be smiles and sex on the beach at night.

She was probably on her way to pick up her daughter, poor little Jasmine with her black pigtails and school uniform. I knew the way, but showing up there would just make me look dodgy. I reached in the pocket of my casual grey jacket and took out the scarf I’d lifted from the back seat while freeing her blazer from the door and the dry cleaning tag with her phone number on it. I’d go to the beach, walk in the sand with my shoes off, and maybe eat a snow cone. Then, after just the right amount of time had passed I’d call her and let her know she’d dropped it. Let her try to avoid me then. I didn’t need her address, I knew where she lived. But I did need her to say yes. I needed it to be her idea. Otherwise, what was the point? Making someone fall for you was sort of how I’d ended up here to begin with.

Of course, she was stubborn. Belligerent. Headstrong. I liked that about her. I’d need all my strength when I saw her; more to stop myself from temptation than anything else. That meant help. That meant I needed someone to love me for an hour or two. To fill me up and make me glow with their essence, given freely and wantonly. That meant Kendra.

Kendra was maybe the best no strings lover I’d ever had. She always had a nice chilled white wine in her fridge, she always smelled like she’d just been bathing in some kind of exotic fruit juice, and she always wanted me to leave when we were done. As the phone rang I licked at the cherry snow cone I’d bought and wiggled my toes in the sand right where the earth and the water meant. I loved meeting places like this; places where one thing became another. The beach, a cliff overlooking a valley, the moment right before a lover pushed into another. The joining of two things was sacred and holy to a Cherub, and I absolutely loved it. I suppose you could say that I had a high degree of job satisfaction.

“Well hello, handsome,” Kendra’s sultry voice greeted me.

“Kendra, what’s good?” I asked her in a drawl. She liked my accent, she liked my style, she liked my natural sense of rhythm, and she liked my smile. It was hard not to have a natural sense of rhythm when everything around you made its own music that only you could hear, and it was hard not to smile when you were talking with Kendra.

“I can think of a few things…” she left the sentence hanging in that practiced way of hers. If I didn’t know any better I’d think she was a Cherub too; seduction was like breathing to her. Any escort that drove a Bentley clearly knew how to play the game well, and Kendra had two of them. One black and one cream so she could match them to her shoes.

“Are you working, or do you have a few hours for Sam?” I asked.

“Nothing I can’t cancel,” she said.

I saw her in my mind, tossing her thick blonde curls over her shoulder and grinning impishly as she thought about me. I loved loving, but I loved being loved just as much. In her own way, Kendra genuinely loved me. There was no subterfuge between us in that regard; the first time we’d met she’d offered to pay me, and after a laugh she told me that no, she was serious. Since then it had been a mutual exchange between us. I’d stolen a glance into her mind once and found out that she suspected I was like her; paid by rich women to fulfill their fantasies. It didn’t even occur to her that I might just likefulfilling fantasies. If I had bills then perhaps there would be something to that; maybe when all this was over and I gave up my wings and was a mortal like her. There’s a certain comfort in knowing that you’ve got a lucrative career waiting for you when you were finished fighting a war against immortals far more powerful than yourself and remaking existence around you.

The thought of what I was deep inside of made me shudder, so I thought instead about Kendra’s pussy. It was tight and wet and she could control it as easily as most people control their hands. I felt my smile comeing back and told her, “Why don’t you come get me, yeah? I’m on the beach, you know the place.”

She giggled into the phone at me, “You and those snow cones. You’d think you’d just discovered them or something. I’m on my way, sugar.”

I had just discovered them. I didn’t think I’d ever find anything better than gum, but snow cones were the thing for me. Soft and wet and cold and full of flavor. Mortals came up with the damndest things. I was sitting on a bench, leaned back with my feet apart in front of me and my shoes in the sand beside me when Kendra pulled into the nearby parking lot and tapped her horn twice. Slowly I stood up, crumpled the little paper cup and tossed it, picked my shoes up, and walked casually to her car. My grin got bigger with every step and I could see through the window of her cream colored car that hers did too.

I loved my job.


If You Ain’t Here To Get Busy, Then You’re In The Wrong Damn Place…

Kendra had a nice flat. She didn’t let clients come around and meet her there and it was always clean. White carpets were a liability for most people, but for her they were just an extension of her inner self. Her names wasn’t really Kendra, her hair wasn’t really blonde, she wasn’t as tall as her heels always made her look, and those weren’t her real eyelashes; but she was still one of the most honest people I’d ever met. The little lies, the ‘human lies’ as Aliona called them, were harmless. Black furniture however was a drawback when all you wanted to do was bend her over the couch and fuck her brains out. She was fastidious in her neatness and though I’d never tried I didn’t think she’d appreciate the potential mess. This is why I was carrying her into her bedroom as she kicked her shoes off onto the floor in the hallway while she kissed me deeply and almost frantically.

She’d already pushed my jacket off my shoulders and left it lying on the floor of the tiled foyer. Before I’d picked her up she’d lifted one foot and expertly pulled her lack thong to her knees and kicked it off. It was somewhere between the living room and the stairs that went to the loft bedroom, small and tangled and smelling of her perfume. My shirt was the next to go, our arms tangling as I pulled her tight black top off over her head. Kendra was good with belts and buttons and I hadn’t even noticed my pants being undone until gravity took over for her and they fell to my ankles. I stepped out of them and she had the zipper on the side of her red thigh length skirt down before I could get to it. She grinned at me as she took one step back from me and undid the clasp on the back of her bra, throwing it to land haphazardly on a lamp on her dresser.

“Right here,” she said breathily, putting her hands on the mirror above the dresser and her feet apart. “Do it to me right here so I can watch.”

Perhaps she could just ready herself at her will, but it was far more likely that she was this wet and eager this fast because of me. I touched her mind and felt a glimmer of pride. Yes; it was because of me. All she was thinking about was the things I was going to do to her and it was making her pussy wet and slippery as she imagined my cock pushing into her. I moved behind her and took my cock in one hand, her right hip in the other, and rubbed it up and down her shaved slit teasingly.

“Oh, Sam,” she moaned, “You do everything fucking perfect.”

I smiled at her in the mirror as she opened her mouth to sigh as I slowly moved my hips forward and slid into her waiting wetness. Of course I did. I could read her mind. She wanted it gently; she was anticipating hard fast strokes and wanted to savor the soft play of a nice slow fuck first. I moved in and out of her pussy, feeling her insides quiver and clutch at every inch of me.

“Like this?” I asked her. I knew the answer was yes, but she liked to talk about it so I let her.

“Oh yeeeah,” she groaned softly, “Just like that. Fuck me nice and slow with your big hard cock.”

She was thinking about how she wished she could be this open and honest with her clients. They all wanted what they wanted and had the money to get it. It was never about Kendra, except with the ones that had a fetish for pleasing women; even those ones, though, wanted her to want what they wanted her to want. It was a complex web of expectations and pay offs and she was good at it; but that was her job…this was for fun, and she loved me for it. I moved in and out with deliberate slowness while she savored every sensation the way a connoisseur savored a fine wine. She looked into my eyes in our reflection in the mirror and licked around the entire circle of her open mouth with her soft wet tongue. She was thinking about putting my cock in her mouth and tasting her own pussy on it as she slurped and sucked at it, taking into her mouth as deep as she could and pushing my head against the top of her throat.

I pulled out of her slowly and turned her around to face me. “You should put my cock in your mouth, Kendra. Put it in your mouth and taste your pussy.”

Her grin was huge, the gratitude and desire plain her eyes. She pushed on my chest and I sat naked on the foot of her bed with my feet apart. She went to her knees, sitting on her heels, and leaned forward. Her luscious blonde curls fell across my thighs as she slid one finger into her pussy and put her lips around my cock. Kendra was a no hands sort of girl, and she bobbed her head to move me in and out of her. She kept her cheeks drawn in against my shaft and I could feel her tongue moving slowly along the underside of me inside her mouth. She didn’t smack her lips or make any lurid sucking sounds, she just moaned softly as she went farther and farther down with each stroke of her head. Soon I could feel her throat opening and closing on my head and I heard her thinking about how much she liked the taste of herself on me. She wanted me to come in her throat and all over her tongue, she wanted to open her mouth and let me shoot all over her waiting tongue before she licked her lips off and swallowed. Then she wanted me to pick her up and fuck her again.

Luckily I wasn’t a mortal and didn’t have the same restrictions of other men. She didn’t know how I did it, but she knew I could and so she wasn’t torn between one or the other. As she made her pussy wetter and wetter with her probing finger she moved her head up and down faster, pivoting it around at the neck to spiral her mouth expertly around my shaft and head. One lock of her blonde hair was stuck to her lips and went in and out of her mouth with my hard cock. She took her finger from between her legs and gripped the tops of my thighs in her hands, lunging her head up and down at the neck onto my cock so that I could feel myself pushing into the top of her throat.

Kendra’s moans were vibrating through me and when she arched her back and looked up at me I shot my first load deep inside her throat. She felt it and her mind erupted with glee and pride at what she had done. Part of my brain was thinking how like a Cherub she seemed at that moment while the rest of it lost itself somewhere inside Kendra. As the first shot stalled at the top of her throat she drew her head all the way back off of me so that a thick string of spit and cum trailed from my head and up into her mouth. With her mouth still open wide she went back onto me, wrapping her lips halfway down my shaft and bobbing up and down four times fast as I shot two more times onto her tongue. She still hadn’t swallowed yet and as she pulled off of me again cum and saliva ran over her bottom lip and down her chin while she gagged in the back of her throat. She closed her mouth over my head and sucked hard while looking up at me, groaning as she took the rest into her mouth. She dragged her lips back off of me and finally took my shaft in her hand, grinning with her eyes half closed. Over her teeth ran more fluid from her mouth and then she held my gaze while finally gulping it all down her throat with three spasms of her neck.

“I want you to fuck me,” she said wetly, then licked her lips with the fullness of her tongue.

She saw it on the dresser and so I stood up with her shoulders in my hands. She stood along with me and I grabbed her by the hips and sat her cute little ass, round and firm, onto its black lacquered surface. She had her knees apart and braced the bottom of her feet against the front of the drawers as I guided my still hard cock into her wet waiting pussy. She bared her teeth and looked at me fiercely. She saw herself being taken utterly and so I grabbed her hip with my free hand and rammed myself all the way into in one stiff stroke. Both hands now on her hips I pushed up and into Kendra with enough force to lift her ass up each time. She put her hands on the tops of my shoulders and braced herself there with her arms straight, her hair falling in a blonde cascade to pool on the dresser over and over as she bounced up and down. Her feet could no longer stay where she was trying to keep them and so she wrapped them around just above the backs of my knees. Holding her there I fucked her as hard as I could without hurting her. The longer I fucker her, the harder I could hear her thinking about wanting it but she didn’t understand that I could easily shatter her frail mortal body if I did. Kendra cried out for me to do it harder, so instead I pivoted her hips with my hands so I was going in at an angle that pressed my head against the top wall of her insides and ground into her. She cried out loud and long and her pussy clamped onto me as her body bucked wildly in my hands.

She rode me with her thighs hard against my hips and her legs straight out behind me. Kendra tossed her head up and down, side to side, and her curls flew in the air around her. Her perfect firm breasts bounced up and down along with her and her mind was racked with physical pleasure. With each thrust into her she let out another cry through her wide open mouth and as I felt her climax subsiding. Slower and slower I ground deep into her and she responded by gyrating her hips and sneering at me with a mask of pleasure. Kendra no longer wanted what Kendra wanted. Kendra wanted to be surprised and so I carried her outside while she kept writhing around with my cock inside of her.

“Oh, you are such a good fuck,” she said through clenched teeth as I leaned her back against her twelfth floor balcony railing.

It was more a small patio and the sun shone down on her perfect tanned skin, wet with her sweat. Holding her hips tightly in my hands I started fucking her again and she leaned back so that the top half of her body hung out over the rail. As she screamed her pleasure I came inside her grasping pussy. With deep hard strokes I emptied myself into her and she leaned back up to throw her arms around my neck. I carried her to the white cloth lounging chair and lay down on my back in the sun with her wrapped around me. I could feel her love washing over me and she thought about how much she loved my company. She liked her job and she was good at but she loved being able to meet up with me and leave the business of it behind and just fuck.

I loved my job.


Someone Bump The Turntable, I Think the Record’s Skipping…

Of course I would. Kendra was thinking about whether or not I’d want to meet her friend Sara. She’d thought about her before when we were laying in each other’s arms after sex but it had always been in a ‘I wish Sara had a man like this’ sort of way, not in a ‘I’m going to introduce Sam to Sara’ sort of way like she was now. According to what Kendra was thinking about, Sara was an escort as well and that’s a lonely job. I let her feel the love I felt for everyone, just for a second, and I heard her resolve form; she rolled closer to me on her bed and spoke.

“I have someone I’d like you to meet. Her name’s Sara. Me and you, we don’t have that kind of a thing where we meet each other’s friends and go out and do things together. Would you even want to meet one of my friends?”

“Of course I would,” I told Kendra.

“I’m going to call her and tell her to come over right now,” she said, crawling across the sheets to the nightstand. She got on the phone and did just that.

An hour later I’d fucked her again, sliding on my knees between her legs as she was on all four talking on the phone with her friend Sara. We were lounging around the living room drinking some expensive wine whose name I wasn’t even going to try to pronounce when Sara arrived. I had to call Cassidy Swanson and find out why she was such a bitch and put her in line with whatever she loved, but there was still time to meet Kendra’s friend. I found myself thinking that this was almost like starting a mission, spreading love and joy amongst the lonely escorts of the world. Altogether it wasn’t such a bad thing, really.

I was thinking about the good that this did for people when Sara walked in. She was all dangerous slight curves and swagger, red hair in glossy ringlets and wrapped in a tight green one piece dress that matched her eyes. They sparkled at me from here and I widened my eyes and opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.

“Samael!” she greeted me warmly, tilting her head slightly and smiling her beguiling smile.

Wonderful, now I had to explain to Kendra how we’d met.

“Samael? That’s what Sam is short for? You two know each other?” Kendra asked.

“Sort of, I guess we do at that,” I replied, still looking at ‘Sara’.

“We go way back!” Sara said, rushing over and sitting between us on the couch and putting her hands on my leg. She winked the wink at me…that damned wink. “Don’t we?”

Wonderful. A Cherub. And one I knew at that. I’d met Sara long before, when she hadn’t changed her name yet to fit in with mortals better. I’d always wondered what happened to Serielle. Sitting there with her hands on my leg, trying to figure out what to say, it made sense she would be an escort. I hadn’t expected this in my day though; I had things I had to go do and Serielle had a hard time staying on task. She was still young though; young and impulsive and likely to try and tag along with whatever I was doing. I loved my job; but sometimes it got complicated.

Hopefully she didn’t bollocks everything up.


I Want To Get Into It Man, Y’Know; Like a, Like a Sex Machine, Man…

Samael! I hadn’t seen Samael for at last 60 years or so. Before he got lost and thought he’d Fallen. He didn’t look any different, but everyone had been talking about what had happened in LA a few months back and how he had been there when Aliona had destroyed Raguel. There were rumors he’d absorbed some of that cranky old bastard’s Spark and he could do thing now he couldn’t do before, like hold the Spear of Penance. Only the best can do that. Either way, it was good to see him. Things were always so interesting around him, so exciting. He got himself involved in the best times. All the young Cherubs looked up to him and here I was sitting in Kendra’s living room with him.

Had I known this was the ‘friend’ that she’d wanted to introduce me to I would have done some stretches or something. She’d bragged about his prowess and now I knew why. This was the kind of thing that could on for hours though, and I had a client in less than one. I didn’t like these kinds of dilemmas. I had a reputation to consider on one hand, and then there was Samael’s reputation on the other.

Cassidy Swanson was a bitch, but she paid well and often. I couldn’t back out of that. I’d been trying to figure out what made her tick so I could set her on the right path for weeks now and I wasn’t going to blow that on something that would probably be here when I got back.

“I can’t stay, I’m sorry Kendra.” I said sadly, “It’s nice to see you again though, Samael! I’ll leave you to tell Kendra all about how we know each other and maybe see you later?”

He just nodded at me, a worried look in his eyes. I wished I could read his mind so I knew what he was thinking. I threw my glittering green wink at him and swayed to the door, turning and grinning at him mischievously as I left.

Word was they’d turned on the Seraphim. Him and Aliona and Avrielle. I’d never really been much of a ‘company girl’, preferring to stay by myself and leave the big picture stuff to others. Politics were boring to me; I needed the chase and the score and the glow of victory in the name of love. Doing what I did now I not only got to support my lifestyle, but also bring a bit of that glow to my clients as well. Sometimes I could figure out what made them work and help them find it; mostly though I could only give them a glimpse. Hopefully it pushed them in the right direction. My number of repeat clients proved that they got hooked on the glimmer more than the goal, but it didn’t stop me from trying.

Besides; I really loved the ‘trying’ part.

Cassidy Swanson wasn’t just a bitch; she was paranoid and was convinced someone was following her. She’d have me meet her in underground parking lots and then go in my car to a hotel somewhere. Today she wanted me to meet her at her daughter’s private school, which seemed odd to me. I saw her in the parking lot with her daughter and as I pulled alongside them I rolled the window down and raised an eyebrow under my large black glasses.

“I’m glad you could meet me here. This is my daughter Becca. Becca this is Sara. She’s going to drive you home,” she said.

“This isn’t really part of what I do, Ms. Swanson,” I said, cheerily but assertively.

As Becca went around and got in beside me I said Cassidy went on, “It is actually. It’s my daughter’s 18th birthday and you’re her present.”

I looked at the girl in the car beside me; her gray plaid knee-length skirt and white shirt, the little white bows in her hair, the tiny nervous smile on her face. She was scared, wary, uncomfortable. She loved her mother though and wanted her to be pleased with her. That was an odd set of things to work with, but I loved a challenge. I looked back to Cassidy and shrugged.

“You know the account number,” I said to her and drove away.

“So, Becca. Happy birthday!” I chirped in a friendly tone, loving her to calm her.

“This is a little weird,” she said. “Does that sound stupid?”

“It is a little weird, so don’t worry Becca.” I reassured her.

She was the picture of youth and innocence, probably just getting used to the new shape of the curves on her body. She looked younger than 18 and had the bearing of a girl that developed late and was shy around boys. She was short and toned, probably pushed to the gym with her obsessive mother. Little freckles were smattered across her nose and her cheeks dimpled a bit when she smiled awkwardly at me.

“So, you’re going to teach me about…stuff?” she asked shyly.

I smiled warmly as I drove and took my glasses off so she could see my eyes. “I’ll do anything you want me to Becca. Even if that means just hang out with you.”

“My mom thinks I like girls because she does and because I’ve never had a boyfriend,” she said, toying with the hem of her skirt and only looking up now and then. “Me, I don’t know so much. She told me there’s only way to find out. She’s kind of pushy.”

“Yes, she certainly is,” I said knowingly. “Look Becca, we can do whatever you want. If you want we can go to my place and talk about it if you want.”

“That’d be nice. I kinda wanted my first time to be different than this though,” she said, still looking down at her lap.

“Different how?” I asked Becca.

“I thought it would be with a boy,” she told me after a second’s pause, turning her face slightly to look at me.

“I might be able to help you out with that, too,” I said slyly, taking my phone out and dialing Kendra’s number.

I hoped Samael was still there.
3 comments

anonymous readerReport

2012-11-01 21:33:54
sucker! first the worst!second the best!haha! lol im so childish! anyways keep up the good work minus three!

anonymous readerReport

2012-08-02 22:46:12
Wooohooo first comment, but seriously, what an amazing story

anonymous readerReport

2012-08-02 22:45:59
Wooohooo first comment, but seriously, what an amazing story

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