| Title: Angel Imagines
He loves the way Fred laughs. Her hands go to her face and she peeks at him from behind her fingers. It always makes Angel want to go chasing after her just to make her squeal. He's sure she would too.
He could picture it now. They'd be running through the halls of the hotel and she'd keep looking back to make sure he was still following her. He would barely be able to stop laughing long enough to growl a warning as he corners her in a dark hallway.
Her eyes would be bright with laughter as she feigned a scared tone of voice, begging him not to hurt her. He can almost hear the hitch in her breath and feel the fabric as he slowly raises the hem of her cotton dress. Her hands would be warm on his arms and her eyes would flutter closed as his fingers skate across her damp panties.
She wouldn't be so easily caught though, not his Fred. She would slip out of his arms and go racing down the corridor, leaving only her laughter behind. When he did catch up with her she'd be all greedy mouth and impatient hands.
Maybe he's wrong. Maybe she loses all her little girl mannerisms when she's turned on. He can even imagine her like that.
Her voice would get deeper, more sure. Her glances at him would be sultry rather than shy. He can hear her now, whispering in his ear, telling him all the things she wants him to do to her.
She's talking to him now; rambling on about something that he has no hope of understanding. He doesn't really mind though, he just likes the sound of her voice. If he lets her get lost in her thoughts, he can look his fill and let his mind wander to all sorts of possibilities. If she catches him, she just looks at him with a look of curiosity and indulgence, assuming he was just being nice and not telling her how boring she is. She has no clue how far from the truth that is.
As she gets involved in her explanations, her hands move in grand and emphatic gestures causing the strap of her sun dress to fall off her shoulder. He wants nothing more than to taste the skin there, just to find out if she's as sweet as he dreams she is. His hand is halfway to her shoulder before he realizes it. Instead of the caress he wants to give, he simply puts the fallen strap back in place. Startled at the unexpected contact, she looks at him questioningly.
“I was just thinking, with all that talking you might be getting thirsty. Why don't we go get something to drink so you won't have to stop?”
If she notices that his hand is at the small of her back, or that he barely loses touch with her the whole evening, she doesn't say anything about it. While she talks endlessly, Angel likes to imagine that she is acutely aware of his touch and that she's hoping for more. |