Pleasures of the Flesh

Pleasures of the Flesh


Kathleen loved many things, most of which were obvious: jealousy, death by suicide, betrayal. She also liked gambling and so it stood to reason that she would be happy on her newest assignment inside of a casino. She grinned as she watched poker games spiral out of control, men spending their lives away, risking everything and then losing it all, their homes, cars, souls. It was funny how stupid humans could be, but then, she really couldn’t blame them. Life was all about fun. Why let the small things get in the way? like morals and love.

She pushed her short dark hair out of her eyes and licked her lips. She was wearing a form-fitting black cocktail dress and loving each glimpse of herself she caught in the overhead and side mirrors. In this form, she could easily trap men into losing their way. She’d lured men away from their wives many a time, and it was getting easier with each passing decade. Something about her seductive smile, her sharp naughty eyes easily drew them in. Her lovely compact body didn’t hurt either, built perfectly, in a slender curvy frame. She exhaled and took another sip of her vodka neat.

Her assignment would be easy. All she needed to do was lead him astray and she was a natural at it. He was already weak and she just needed to give him a little push. It was great having nothing to lose and nothing to regret. Kathleen obviously had no loved ones or friends in high places. She did, however have friends in low places – and then there were the ones she occasionally forgot about…

Gliding through the crowd of low-lifers, gamblers and strippers was a familiar face, her long auburn hair hanging across her shoulders in endless silky locks. Her half-smile spoke volumes about promise and truth. Her brown eyes were pools of mocha, glittering against the overhead lights, searching, always searching, for knowledge. She was beautiful in such a way that it was painful. Her full mouth was poised on the edge of a word, and when she spotted her friend, she came up and spoke.

“Hello, Kathleen.” It was the last person Kathleen had expected to see and so it stood to reason that she was effectively silenced, drawn inexplicably in by the Irish lilt.

“You…” she found her voice and pried her eyes away from the angel, although ‘angel’ wasn’t the half of it. Monica was a sculpture, crafted out of ivory personally in God’s great hand. She perched elegantly on the edge of a barstool and smiled, regarding Kathleen.

“Yes, I’m on an assignment.” Monica’s voice was always so optimistic, so pleasant and friendly. It made Kathleen sulk, glaring into the clear liquid that swirled in her glass. “You shouldn’t drink that.”

“Yeah?” Now Kathleen faced her again. “What’s it to you?”

“Oh, I know a wee bit about alcohol. It’s not good for your body. Or your soul.” She stared at Kathleen’s vodka glass with disdain. “It makes people susceptible.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what I’m hoping for.” And Kathleen put the lip of the glass to her mouth and poured it down her throat, letting it warm her. When she finished she looked into Monica’s eyes. “Now, why don’t you get out of here?”

“I already told you, I have an assignment here.”

“Well, go wait somewhere else. You’re throwing off my game.”

Monica hesitated, a half smile on her lips before she got up and vanished, so that when Kathleen glanced next to her again, the angel was gone. The evil one shook her head and tried to take another sip of her drink before she remembered she had drank it all. “Damn that angel.”

She smoothed her dress down in front and got up off her barstool. She loved being in this body. It was so hot and buzzing with energy. When she slithered next to a man seated at the end of the bar, she paused next to him and waited for him to notice her, and as he did, he nearly dropped his drink on himself.

“Careful.” Kathleen said in her sultry voice. “I wouldn’t want you to get wet.” She licked her lips, and the man was effectively hypnotized. Wordlessly, he offered her a seat next to him and couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

“What are you having?” he asked, feeling himself drawn in by her sexual prowess.

Kathleen grinned and rested a hand on his thigh. “I think that depends…” Her lipstick glittered in the dim light. “…on you.”

He tried to ignore the nervous ball that had formed in his stomach. His name was George and he was about two thousand dollars away from losing the rest of he and his wife’s nest egg. Needless to say, he’d already pilfered most of it away at the craps tables earlier, and now he was just biding his time, fighting temptation, trying to decide whether to go and gamble the rest or sit here and drink it all away. What he didn’t realize was that he was Kathleen’s latest victim…

“Can I buy you a drink?” he tried to straighten his posture as he spoke to this incredible creature, her dark exotic eyes gazing at him. Either she had an angle, was trying to get something from him or she was genuinely interested. The latter seemed the most improbable since George was a rumpled man in a cheap suit, nearing middle age, whose bald spot glistened underneath the lights. She smelled so luscious, though, like pomegranate and passion fruit. He couldn’t resist.

“Sure. I’ll have what you’re having.” She leaned closer, letting her bare arm brush against his polyester suit, hating the feel of it against her skin, but determined anyway. There was nothing attractive about George, but Kathleen was on an assignment. She had her game face on. She would see to it that George pilfered the rest of his money, cheated on his wife, and drank so hard that the effects would be irreversible. His liver would literally be broken by the time she finished with him. Maybe she could even get him to stroke out if the sex was vigorous enough. Surely, his heart couldn’t take what she had planned for him. In fact, she wondered how many hearts she could break tonight just based off the actions of one pathetic man.

For his part, George admitted to himself that he had a problem with gambling and maybe he drank a little too much. His wife hardly found him attractive enough anymore to deal with him lately, and his kids were embarrassed by him, he was sure. They were at that age where they didn’t want to be seen with him, and he was positive it was because of his frumpy looks and his lack of success. All he did was work in a cubicle farm, processing claims, unable to climb the corporate ladder due to his inability to stand out. He sighed and got the attention of the bartender.

“Another whiskey sour, please, bartender.” He motioned towards Kathleen and she smiled, her hand traveling dangerously up his thigh. He trembled at the contact and took a large gulp of his own liquor. He knew that if he got caught with this woman, his wife would never forgive him. It would be the last straw. Still… something about her was irresistible…

Kathleen accepted her drink, winked at the bartender and swallowed a large gulp of it. She’d need a lot of the drink to get through anything romantic with George. He smelled stale like his clothes hadn’t been washed in weeks and his mustache was sweaty. She couldn’t even use mysticism to make him more attractive to her because she was on parole from her supervisor since her last assignment had gone terribly awry. At any rate, she was getting bored sitting here on this barstool. The night was still young, but it wouldn’t last forever. She wanted to put her plans into motion.

“You play poker?” she asked him, her hand stroking his leg through his thin pants. “You look like you’d be good at it.”

George mustered a smile and a blush. In fact, he was terrible at it. “I don’t even know your name.” He could hardly look at her because she was so sensual.

“Kathleen.” She said and tugged at the lapel of his jacket. “And you’re George.”

He looked at her now, his dark blue eyes focusing through his mild inebriation. “Hey, how’d you know that?”

She shrugged. “I’m really good at these things.”

He nodded, vaguely suspicious. She was extremely sexy, and the fact that she was talking to him at all was extraordinary, but there was also something else about her that didn’t sit right with him. She was very striking but the occasional flash of something in her eyes seemed almost unnatural. George held his drink in his hand and then set it down. Suddenly, it was like he needed air. The balcony was so close. He turned to look at Kathleen. He was torn. When would he ever have another opportunity like this again? All his associates had cheated on their wives, at least once – and most of those women hadn’t been nearly this beautiful.

“Please, don’t leave.” He told her, as a look of disappointment crossed her dark features. “I just… I have to go do something.”

Kathleen made a face. “You don’t like me, George?”

He shook his head vigorously. “No! I mean, Yes! Of course I like you. I just… I need some air. I’ll be right back. Please wait for me. I’ll just be a minute.”

“Okay.” Kathleen forced herself to keep a friendly tone, “but I won’t wait for long.”


Outside on the balcony, George held onto the ledge, his head starting to throb. He began to ponder all the things that could go wrong and all the things that had already gone wrong. He was nearing the end of the line, and he had some tough decisions to make. He had never been with a woman as attractive as Kathleen, and even though he knew he was being tested, he couldn’t stop himself. He was convinced he could get through it unscathed… even if he went home penniless in the morning.

“Hello.” A voice spoke to him and he turned, startled. Where had she come from?

George was at a loss for words. The woman was standing in the shadows even though she seemed to glow in her white flowing dress with rippled sleeves like water. Her auburn hair flowed around her like silk and she tilted her head, slightly, regarding him. She was so beautiful and so pure. George turned away from her, ashamed.

“If you’re looking for the ladies room, it ain’t here.” George was trembling.

Monica’s laugh was light. “No. I was just getting some air. It’s a wee bit smoky in there.”

“A ‘wee’ bit?” he laughed in spite of himself. “I guess you could say that.” He turned to look at the woman, at her smooth pale face, her dark soulful eyes. “Where you from? Scotland?”

“Close.” Monica came to stand near him. “Ireland.”

“What are you doing here?” he snorted, jaded. “In Vegas of all places? Unless you’re a stripper…”

Monica blushed but shook her head. “No, actually I’m here for a friend. He needs my help. He’s lost his way.”
George looked at Monica and felt his face go slack. Something about her voice seemed to talk right into his very soul. It unnerved him, but it also made him want to talk. He moved away from the edge and stood up straight.

“I’d say good luck, but I’m about to go in and screw up my life right now. I can’t really offer anything positive.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way.” Monica said. “You can control your own destiny.”

“No.” George shook his head. “Nope. It’s too late for me. Hopefully, it’s not too late for your friend.”

“It’s never too late.” Monica said softly. “I think you know that.”

“Yeah… well…” George was angry. He suddenly thought about Kathleen, about her tight little body, about how it would feel to let go, to spend money on her, on someone who appreciated him – not like his wife who resented him. “… maybe I don’t care.”

“But God cares.” Monica spoke in a firm voice, desperate to get through to George without having to make her true self known, at least not yet. “God cares about you and He wants you to care about your life. It’s such a precious gift.”

Now George laughed, a full hearty laugh. “Oh, of course! You’re some bible thumper. I should have known! You seemed too nice to be a stripper – and that’s not a compliment, by the way.”

Monica sighed. “Please, listen to me…”

“No.” George shook his head. “I’ve heard enough.”

As he stormed back inside, Monica turned to see Kathleen standing behind her, laughing. “Oh, please, Monica. Is that the best you can do? That poor sap isn’t going to listen to you. He’s too busy listening to me.”

“George is your assignment?” Monica was filled with a sense of dread. Kathleen was very persuasive and not only that, but what she was offering seemed far more attractive than blind faith. It took a lot for men to lay down their hearts and simply trust that God would lift them up. With Kathleen, the rewards, however false they were, were always instantaneous.

“Why are you surprised?” the darker woman shrugged. “You may as well turn tail and go home, crying to your precious Father. I’m not going to lose this one.”

“But he has so much to live for.” Monica hadn’t set out to plead with Kathleen. “He has a wife, two beautiful children who love him. What good will it do to ruin his life?”

Kathleen shook her head. She didn’t know why Monica bothered. It never did any good. She almost felt bad for her. “Just forget him, Monica. You tried and you failed. Go find some other schmuck to receive your message of faith.”

“I won’t give up on him.” she said in a determined voice as Kathleen looked on with her sharp eyes. “No matter what you say.”

“You don’t want to go against me on this one, Monica. He’s too weak already. He’s practically eating out of my hand.”

And just as Monica was going to counter her, Kathleen turned and went back inside the casino.

George was waiting for her, looking lost, and when she sidled up to him he was relieved.

“God, I thought you had gone.” He accepted the kiss she planted on his cheek.

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere.” She whispered, catching sight of Monica nearby. “I’ll stay with you until you get tired of me.”

“I doubt I’ll get tired of you anytime soon.” He said and then turned to see Monica in the distance. “You see that woman over there, the redhead? She tried to recruit me out on the balcony. I think she’s one of those Jehovah’s Witness.”

Kathleen laughed out loud. “Yeah, they let any body into these places anymore. You should have called security on her.”

He snorted and turned to look at Kathleen. “You wanna go upstairs to the overlook? It’s more private or I think I could get us a decent room with what I have left…”

Kathleen nodded. “Okay.” This was going to be easier than she thought. “But didn’t you want to play another hand first?”

George shrugged. “Well… I guess.”

As it turned out, George really was terrible at poker. So bad, in fact, that it wasn’t even fun watching him lose. Kathleen yawned as he sweated and sank more and more into himself with every losing hand and every whisky sour. Well, anyway, his money was slipping through his fingers, but Kathleen was bored out of her mind. He wasn’t even putting up a fight.

It did, however, get interesting when Monica approached them out of the blue. “George, I have a message for you.”

Kathleen looked her over, amused by her determination - but also, abruptly bewitched by her innocent beauty. Kathleen had always found Monica to be one of God’s fairest creatures, in spite of herself, but now she looked so dreamy in her white evening wear, dark reddish hair hanging about her shoulders in thick wavy locks. Kathleen shook her head to get rid of those thoughts. Where the hell were they coming from? “This ought to be good.” She said in her snide voice in reaction to Monica’s plea.

“Leave me alone, lady!” George was a desperate man and getting more and more so by the second. He was losing everything, and Kathleen had done nothing but lure him deeper in every step of the way. Whenever he even thought of getting up, of walking away, Kathleen was always there, persuading him to bet another hand, to order another drink.

“The message is about your family, your wife and children.” George turned to look at Monica, his face wary. “They need you at home. They miss you. George, please, go to them now.”

Only George and Kathleen could see Monica in this moment so to the other patrons, it was as if George was talking to himself. “Go away! They don’t need me! They never needed me!”

The dealer was eyeing George suspiciously. “Hey, calm down, buddy.” He said in an irritated voice. “You want out?”

“You’re right, George.” Kathleen added beside him. “They don’t even appreciate you.”

“Don’t listen to her, George. I can help you.” Monica stretched her hands out towards him. “Follow me, and I will lead you towards riotousness, towards God.”

Kathleen snorted. “Oh, right. What has God ever done for you, George? Nothing? He doesn’t even know you exist. He doesn’t care about you. It’s up to you to make a way for yourself.”

Monica met and held Kathleen’s gaze. If only she could get rid of her somehow. She knew why she wasn’t getting through to George; she could smell the liquor rising off of him in vapors. Not only had Kathleen persuaded him to bet nearly all of his money, but she’d been pouring drinks into him the entire time as well. Monica felt terrible for having left his side at all.

The dealer was shooing George away for being disruptive, and when he stood up, he nearly stumbled and fell until Monica reached out her hands to steady him. His eyes were filled with water and he was swaying dangerously. When she had led him to a secluded area, she revealed herself to him.

“George, I am an angel.” She became nearly translucent as light flowed through her, and George stumbled backward, fear etched into the planes of his face. “I have a message for you, from God.”

“I’m drunk.” His mouth curled upward. “I’m imagining this.”

Kathleen came up behind him and pulled him to her, letting him feel her body against his as she whispered into his ear with her hot breath. “Yes, you’re imagining her, but I’m not a vision, George. I’m real. And I’m ready for you. You can have me any way you want me.”

His thoughts raced as he pictured it, him doing whatever he wanted to Kathleen. It was almost too much…

“George, listen to me.” Monica persisted. “Kathleen is a manipulator. She doesn’t care about you. There isn’t much time. God wants you to go home to your wife and your children. If you don’t, it could be the biggest regret of your life. You have been given a chance…”

He was clearly struggling with it, but his eyes showed that he was too far gone. He almost didn’t care what happened anymore. If his life was ruined, then so be it. It had been too long without love from her, without acceptance… and now Kathleen was here, offering him everything, if only for the night. He looked up, tears sliding down his cheeks. There was an angel standing before him, in all her magnificent glory, but somehow it wasn’t enough… and then he felt something else… vomit rising into his throat…

“Oh God…” he covered his mouth as he stumbled into the men’s room, leaving Monica alone with Kathleen.

They stared one another down, and again, Kathleen noticed how incredibly beautiful Monica was. It was something she’d never have admitted out loud, of course. There was far too much history between them. But now, standing in this deserted corridor, it took a lot for Kathleen to keep up her evil façade. Monica was stunning.

“Please, Kathleen, don’t do this. George will lose everything if you do.”

“Not my call, Monica.” Kathleen grinned. “He gave up long before I came into the picture. He just needed that little push.”

Monica watched her ex-friend, wishing things could be the way they used to, before Kathleen fell so hard from grace. Back in those days, hundreds of years ago, they were nearly inseparable, so close and so warm to one another. Now, her beautiful sharp eyes looked deep into Monica’s soul, so piercing, and yet so empty, but Monica held on, brave. “I’ll do anything to save him.”

Kathleen snorted, unimpressed. “That’s the thing, Monica. You’d do anything to save anyone. I’ve heard it all before.”

“Yes, but it’s true.” Monica gazed at the fallen one, searching her for a scrap of compassion. “What would it take for you to release him from your spell?”

Kathleen made a face. “Why? What have you got?”

Monica stood her ground; her voice didn’t even quiver as she said it. “Myself.”

Now Kathleen’s ears perked up. “What? You’re not serious.”

“Oh, I am.” Monica nodded, hands folded serenely before her. “Take me in George’s place. I can find my way back from darkness, but George …he needs this.”

Kathleen was shocked, but she hid it well. She shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t buy it. It’s some kind of trick.”

“You know me well enough to know that I don’t play tricks, and I don’t play games when souls are at stake. I know my Father would forgive me for whatever transpires.”

Kathleen pondered the angel. “You want me to walk away from George, and you’ll let me… take you?”

“Just for the night. As you would have done with him.” Monica felt vaguely ill at the thought of whatever sin Kathleen might’ve had planned. “You cannot have my soul, but you can have… anything else.”

Kathleen was warming to the idea. “An interesting proposition, Monica. I’m almost tempted to take you up on it…”

They heard the sound of the toilet flushing behind the walls, and the rush of running water from the faucet. George was splashing cold water on his face. If he came out of the bathroom to find neither Monica nor Kathleen, then he’d be broken and lonely, but he would assume it was all some kind of drunken delusion and return home, his tail between his legs.

Unbeknownst to George, but very much known to Monica and Kathleen, was a dangerous criminal on the prowl in George’s neighborhood. He had been staking out the area for a while, and he would only visit George’s home if he didn’t see George’s car in the driveway. If, however, George was home, the man would pass the house over, not wanting a confrontation. It was imperative that George be there or he could lose his wife and his children all in the same night, thereby spiraling his life into a dangerous tailspin. This is what Kathleen had been hoping to do, and it seemed like such a major score… but the thought of possessing Monica, the thought of owning her for the night was too good to pass up.

“Kathleen, please…”

“Alright.” She grinned. “Deal.”

– and the two of them were transported to a dark place, far away from George and
the casino. There was candlelight all around the room, flickering and making shadows against the deep purple walls. It took a moment for Monica to realize it was velvet draperies. It gave her the impression of being in a lair. She shivered visibly, and Kathleen, who stood at a distance looked on with predatory eyes.

“This is such a marvelous opportunity, Monica. Thank you.” Her eyes were trained on Monica, and the angel had to lower her gaze. It was chilly here, and she had no idea what was in store.

“Where is this place?” she asked, her soft voice echoing lightly off the high ceilings.

“Oh, it’s just my little humble abode. I’m sure it can’t compare to yours.” Kathleen was watching the angel, her ex-friend. She wanted to do something, but she had no idea how to proceed. With humans, it was easier than this because they had no history; she had no personal attachments to them. They were merely playthings. Monica, she hated to admit, was different.

“It’s lovely.” Monica let her eyes adjust to the décor, the paintings that hid in the shadows, the charcoal drawings of the figure of a woman, naked, striking, the ancient Riviera where she and Kathleen had once visited together so long ago. “I recognize that.”

Kathleen was getting antsy. She didn’t like this. She didn’t want it to be enjoyable for Monica. She wanted her to hurt, to be frightened, to cringe in disgust, to be outdone. She wanted to wreck her. She knew she couldn’t bring her down permanently, but she wanted Monica so debauched that the little angel would be begging God’s forgiveness for the rest of her existence – till the end of time, if it took that long.

Mustering up the courage, Kathleen advanced on her, ignoring Monica’s shocked eyes, and the soft startled sound that escaped her throat and pulled her into a harsh embrace. Their bodies were pressed tight together as she held Monica against her with one strong arm and tugged her long hair back with the other hand, exposing her pale white neck. She bent her head and latched her mouth onto the soft warm flesh as Monica cried out, frightened. In spite of herself, Kathleen halted, their faces inches apart.

“I take it you’ve never done this?” her glare was pure evil, but she had lightened her grip on Monica considerably.

Monica was breathing rapidly, her chest heaving, but she tried to rein herself in. “Forgive me.” She whispered, and Kathleen had no way of knowing whether Monica was talking to her or to God.

“You’ve never done it?” Kathleen tried to hide the disgust. “God, Monica, what’ve you been doing for the past millennia? Besides drinking coffee…”

Neither of them had even noticed that Monica was clinging to Kathleen, as if the one who spoiled her could also be the one who saved her. And in turn, Kathleen felt offensive and protective at the same time. She wanted to ruin her and she didn’t want to ruin her. Damn.

“I’m sorry.” Monica said, her voice so soft. “I’ve never had need of sexuality… or…”

Kathleen rolled her eyes. “It’s supposed to be fun. It’s not like your usual upkeep like washing or eating. Its…” she released Monica and walked away from her, pacing. This was turning out to be more trouble than it was worth. She wondered if George had decided to hang around the casino after all… but in her mind’s eye, she could see him maneuvering his broken little Ford down the lonely road towards home. There were no police in the way to stop him; it was well-lit, no oncoming traffic. It was as if there was an angel with him…

“I’m going to make you a cocktail.” Kathleen went to a little bar and busied herself with pouring and blending. “You’ll like this. But it’s not virgin – like you.” She laughed at her own joke as Monica looked on.

“What’s in it?” Monica accepted the glass and examined the coffee colored liquor.

“Irish crème. But strong.” Kathleen winked. “Bottom’s up, angel.”

They both drank, and then Monica felt the effects of it almost immediately. She was getting light headed and fuzzy. It was true, she had never done anything sexual with anyone, but she had, in fact, been drunk before and so she knew the symptoms as they slowly began to take over. “You’re trying to make me susceptible.”

“That’s a funny way of putting it.” Kathleen set down her glass and went to Monica. “I think I’m going to like you like this.”

“Susceptible?” Monica’s hiccup was soft, and the liquor burned in her belly.

Kathleen smirked. “Drunk.” She reached for the angel and pulled her into her arms, burying her face in her long thick dark hair. “You smell like lilies.”

“That’s very nice.” Monica held onto Kathleen for support as they began to sway together.

“I hate lilies.” The evil one let her mouth brush against Monica’s neck. “What do you know about sex?”

The question made Monica blush and she hesitated to buy herself some time. Kathleen’s hand rested at the small of her back and her other hand was buried in Monica’s hair, nails lightly scratching at the scalp. Monica hated to admit that the sensation was… curious…

“I know about love…” Monica paused, her head swimming, “…and I know about compassion and trust.”

Kathleen snorted. “Honey, that’s not sex. That’s all the frilly stuff humans use to make it sound acceptable, so they won’t feel guilty.” She pulled back to look into Monica’s eyes. “Haven’t you ever experienced it, up close and personal?”

Monica shook her head, but actually she had seen some things in her day. In all her hundreds of years working with humans, she occasionally caught glimpses of heavy petting, couples in the throes of passions. She generally looked away or went away. It was slightly embarrassing, but she admitted, she had always been a bit curious…

“I know what kisses are.” She said now, resting her chin on Kathleen’s shoulder. “I’ve seen it many times.”

Kathleen made a disapproving noise. “Kissing is for babies, Monica. I’m talking about the real deal, the meat and potatoes.”

Monica sighed and sank more into Kathleen’s embrace. She was using her for support because the more the effects of alcohol took over, the harder it was to remain upright. “Meat and potatoes…” she repeated whimsically.

Kathleen was enjoying having the angel in her arms. In fact, she was enjoying the scent of the lilies and the soft feel of all that hair in her hands, but she was losing herself in this. She was supposed to be a demon. With sudden realization, she pushed Monica away, gentler than she had initially intended.

“Take off those rags.” She told her in a forceful voice.

Monica, unashamed, obeyed. After all, this was part of the deal. To her, her human skin was like wearing earrings, an accessory. True, she had gotten used to it over time, but she knew that spirit was what mattered most. She reached behind her to unclasp the dress and then shrugged out of it, letting it pool around her feet in a white heap. Kathleen’s breath was taken away. Monica was absolutely exquisite in her wisp of white cotton under things.

“Is this alright?” Monica breathed, feeling chill bumps rise up on her skin.

Kathleen shivered, not from cold but from excitement. God, she was perfect in every way. “It’s fine.”

“Are you going to kiss me, now?” Monica asked, her voice so soft Kathleen could barely hear her.

Kathleen snorted. “No. I don’t kiss.” She approached, slowly. “Sit down on the bed.”

Monica turned and was surprised to see a bed at all. She was sure there hadn’t been one before. It was very near to her and covered in deep purple satin spread, large dark pillows at the head. Monica stepped out of her shoes and went to sit on the edge.

Kathleen approached and stood over Monica. She licked her lips and then kneeled before her, hands grasping her thighs, she brushed her mouth over the inside of Monica’s knee and down her calf. Monica held her breath, unsure how to respond. Her body felt warmer at the contact and when Kathleen’s tongue flicked over the flesh, she inhaled sharply.

“Poor sweet angel.” Kathleen murmured against the pale skin. “It feels good doesn’t it? You like it don’t you?”

Monica couldn’t answer. She was terrified to realize that it was pleasant. She didn’t want to be corrupted, to lose herself completely. Kathleen was bewitching her somehow, she was sure of it.

“It’s not magic, Monica…” Kathleen trailed her hot wet mouth down Monica’s leg and to the ankle. “…it’s sex.”

Monica shuddered and tried to focus on something pure, something good, but it was difficult with Kathleen’s mouth caressing her skin. “Kathleen…” she gasped, “…please stop. I need… I need a moment, please…”

Kathleen looked up at Monica, her wicked eyes filled with amusement. “What’s wrong, angel? Is it too much?”

“I’m… not used to… I’ve never…”

Ignoring Monica’s prattle, Kathleen reached up and unclasped the bra in the front so that it was nearly open. With both hands, she pushed it completely off her shoulders to reveal the flawless pale globes with sangria nipples, hardening in the cool air. Monica bit her lip to keep from moaning.

“Oh, my…” Kathleen murmured as she brushed her open hands over the points, feeling them poke her palms. Monica trembled and let her eyes slip shut. She thought of rainbows and puppies and babies. She thought of Tess, her best friend and mother figure, and then she tried to block those thoughts out. What would Tess say if she could see her now? She blushed and let her hand rest on Kathleen’s shoulder. The muscles beneath her hand rippled as Kathleen dragged her nails across Monica’s skin.

With one café colored hand, Kathleen pushed Monica onto her back and climbed atop her. She was no longer apprehensive about taking her. She was careful, though, not to move too fast so as not to give the other woman a heart attack or send her into a stress-induced coma. Above all else, she wanted to savor this.

Monica’s hair was fanned out across the dark pillow, and Kathleen found she was unable to stop touching it, to stop running her fingers through it. It occurred to her that she had wanted to touch Monica’s hair for a long time, to play in it, to get lost in it. Something akin to joy was filling Kathleen up as she hovered over the angel, caressing her skin. Monica was so responsive to her, so giving. She was a masterpiece beneath her, and Kathleen wondered, errantly, if Monica was enjoying herself nearly as much as she was. She was so incredible, so lovely, and she smelled like heaven. Kathleen felt something inside her grow warm, something that resembled affection – but the thought caused her to start, as if burned.

“Damn…” she murmured, shutting her eyes and averting her face. “…damn, this.”

Monica opened her eyes and looked at the fallen one, the black eyes so far away, and she looked anguished. Monica was perplexed, but she wasn’t sure what to say since she was sprawled out and completely at her mercy. There was a time when they could talk about anything, but that was so long ago.

“Kathleen…”

“Don’t talk.” Kathleen rolled off of Monica. “Just… don’t.”

Monica sat up and pulled the comforter around her shoulders. Kathleen had turned her back to Monica and was shaking her head, as if silently debating something. “Kathleen, are you alright?”

“No. I’m not alright.” She said, her voice hoarse. “I thought of… I thought of that other place, up there…”

“Heaven?” Monica stared at Kathleen’s back, remembering when they were both angels, when they were together up there and they were inseparable. Kathleen used to care about life and about people. She used to have a soul. Now, Monica wasn’t sure if Kathleen had any room for love, among all the hatred and regret.

“Yes.”

“Kathleen, talk to me.”

“I don’t want to.” Kathleen turned to her, her eyes shadowed by her mussed hair. “I didn’t bring you here to talk.”

“It’s not too late, Kathleen, to be forgiven.”

“I don’t want to do this, Monica.” Kathleen’s face was anxious, upset. She almost looked vulnerable.

And Monica reached for her this time, the comforter falling off her shoulder. She pulled Kathleen into her arms, and Kathleen let herself be held. She was rigid at first, taut as a bowstring. She told herself she was only doing this to shut Monica up, to get her off her back so she could get back to the business of seducing her, but it did feel good to be held, to have her arms wrapped around her.

Monica was looking into her ex-best friend’s beautiful dark face, pushing her short black hair off her brow, and she was bringing her face in close, her mouth within inches of Kathleen’s. It wasn’t something she had been planning to do; it just felt right in this moment, but Kathleen stopped her.

“I don’t kiss, Monica.” She said, weary, turning her face away.

“I’m sorry.” She said. “I just…”

Silencing the angel, Kathleen, instead, lowered her head and took one of Monica’s pebbled nipples into her mouth and suckled it gently. Monica let her head fall back as she moaned softly, a shock of electric coursing up her spine. She had never felt anything like this, and she held Kathleen’s head in her hands, hoping to never lose contact with her mouth.

“Oh, Kathleen…” she moaned, her chest heaving as Kathleen continued to pleasure the nubbin with her mouth and roll the other between her fingers. Monica was coming unglued. She felt herself getting lost in the sensation as Kathleen’s free hand held onto her torso, firmly. “…Kathleen…”

“Yes, Monica… “ Kathleen looked up long enough to say before flicking the nipple again with her tongue. Monica sank backward until she was lying beneath Kathleen, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out across her parchment paper skin. She looked like a goddess this way, and Kathleen never missed an opportunity to admire her incredible form.

The angel reached blindly for the other woman and tugged gently at the black dress she still wore. It was thin and micro mini, but it was a barrier nonetheless. Shocked at her insistence, Kathleen paused long enough to divest herself of the garment in one tug over her head. She was stark naked beneath and Monica let her eyes rove over the perfectly even toned skin, the color of mocha latte, her favorite beverage.

Experimentally, she reached out one pale hand and caressed the dark cheek, her shoulder and down her arm. With her other hand, she pulled Kathleen down on top of her and wrapped her arms around her, enjoying the warmth of the contact. Kathleen was momentarily rendered speechless. Monica was reciprocating. She didn’t know what to say even if she could.

Instead, she buried her face in Monica’s hair and nuzzled her neck, nibbling the delicate flesh while trailing her hands down Monica’s body. She moved off of her enough to rest her hand on Monica’s taut belly, teasing the sensitive skin in and around her navel as the angel squirmed beneath her.

Her hand lingered dangerously near the edge of Monica’s waistband and she began to pull them down her slender hip as Monica released a panicked gasp and reached for her wrist. Their eyes met and Monica bit her lip as Kathleen looked down at her, her eyes like those of a tiger. Somehow, Monica knew that there was no turning back from this point. What frightened her most was that she wasn’t averse to the idea of falling off the precipice with Kathleen. It felt so good in her arms, so extraordinary. She thought she might be able to offer Kathleen something in return, if nothing more than warmth and closeness.

“Don’t worry, Monica.” Kathleen’s voice wasn’t sarcastic as she said it. “You’ll like this.”

Monica held firm, unable to let go. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” And after several seconds, she released her grip on Kathleen’s wrist and let her continue to tug the tiny garment down her legs.

At first, it felt clinical, Kathleen’s fingers reaching, reaching, until they were tangled lightly in the silky patch of dark reddish hair at the apex of her thighs. Monica held her breath, holding a handful of sheet in her tight fist. And then Kathleen let a single digit dip beneath the folded warmth, into the heat that was Monica’s core. Monica sighed and turned her head to the side. It was lovely, this feeling, so raw and real. So human.

Slowly, very slowly, Kathleen slid in deeper, finding wetness and using it to her advantage, teasing the sensitive nub. Monica had released her grip on the sheet and had draped an arm over her eyes, feeling simultaneously ashamed and overwhelmed. Kathleen was wrecking her and it felt so good. She had her mouth latched onto Monica’s left nipple while her left hand slid in and out of her, an uneven rhythm that was slowly driving the angel insane.

She could only murmur and utter incomprehensible words as Kathleen went deeper with each thrust, her hand finding permanent residence in the slick tight walls as her thumb teased her into a frenzy. She was murmuring obscenities against the angel’s breast, the nipples so sensitive and throbbing now that they were tingling of their own accord. And Monica’s fingers were driving through Kathleen’s short dark hair, her narrow body heaving as she climbed higher and higher towards release.

“I want you to come so hard, Monica…” Kathleen whispered against her belly as she trailed her hot mouth downward and latched onto the place where her fingers had been. And Monica’s body practically rose off the bed as she tongued her there.

“Oh, Kath… Kathleen… oh, please…” Monica’s abdomen trembled as Kathleen lapped at her sensitive button, swirling it in time with her driving fingers deep inside the angel’s womb, the other hand squeezing the rock hard nipple. “…please, please Kathleen…”

“Please what?” Kathleen murmured against the patch of dark red hair. “Please let you come?”

Monica was breathless as Kathleen lifted one slender leg to drape over her shoulder, giving her better access. She sank two more fingers into the tight hole and plunged her tongue beneath the slick folds as she held onto those trembling porcelain thighs. Monica’s body was so pliant and yet so firm. She was perfect for this because her body was so responsive, so agile and ageless.

Her long dark reddish hair was tangled and tousled, and she looked amazingly untamed. Kathleen kept her eye on that incredible face the entire time, loving to see what effects she had on her as she ate her like flan – and Monica tasted so good, so untainted. Kathleen could devour her for an eternity and never get tired of it.

Monica’s body rocked against Kathleen’s mouth and fingers, her eyes shut tight, her hands resting on Kathleen’s shoulders. So many thoughts were running through her head, but it was difficult to keep them straight. They were so fuzzy and mostly incoherent. Her body was separating from her mind, and she preferred it that way. It was as if she was watching herself from somewhere far away, and she was making mental pictures of it to be recalled later. What Kathleen was doing to her didn’t even seem possible, and she was sure she would regret it later, but right now, she couldn’t make herself be still. It was far too good. She only needed one thing to make it perfect…

During a moment of clarity, she reached and pulled Kathleen up over her, so they were face to face. Monica’s cheeks were flushed with heat and Kathleen’s eyes were unfocused as Monica held onto her head, her fingers anchored in her hair, and pulled her down into a kiss.

Kathleen struggled and tried to break free – at first. Then she settled into it, let it happen, defeated. A sound like a sob escaped her as Monica held firm, attached at the lips. There was a force flowing through them that was far more powerful than either of them. Monica wrapped her arms around the other woman and held her close as Kathleen’s tongue sought and found Monica’s. It was urgent at first, desperate and teeth crushing, but then it settled into a lazy kiss, slow and purposeful. Monica released her hold on Kathleen and was happily surprised to see that Kathleen was kissing her back, a gentle caress of lips, her hand resting lightly against Monica’s cheek.

When she opened her eyes, she found that Kathleen’s face was wet with tears. She traced their path with one long delicate finger and tried to recall a time when they were almost like one, so close they were practically the same person. She kissed Kathleen’s tears and Kathleen planted a light kiss on Monica’s lips before kissing her chin, neck, and shoulder. Then she made her way downward, kissing the outside of her left breast, then all around it until she tugged the nipple with her teeth causing Monica to inhale sharply. She did the same with the right one, licking it to a hard little point, driven by Monica’s fingers in her hair.

She lingered there, licking and sucking, alternating between both nipples as Monica began to want Kathleen’s hands on her where she needed it most. She parted her thighs as Kathleen settled between them and slid two fingers inside of her, beginning a slow intense rhythm that made Monica’s toes curl and her knees weak. Her legs fell apart as Kathleen’s mouth found her again and licked her in long slow strokes, the pad of her tongue hitting the spot just right until she felt the oncoming orgasm, low in her belly, deep in her soul, all through her. The flash was almost blinding behind her eyes as it snuck up on her, the explosive force of it. She heard someone cry out and realized, distantly, that it was her own voice.

Her muscles clenched and contracted around Kathleen’s fingers as she cried out again, a high, sweet sound that made Kathleen fill up with satisfaction. That sound alone made it all worth it.

When she had come down somewhat, Kathleen came up to rest beside her. She looked down at Monica, resting on her elbow, and couldn’t resist touching her. She trailed a hand down her stomach and felt the little aftershocks just beneath her skin, she marveled in the light sheen of sweat covering the pale body and was glad that she caused it. The truth was, she didn’t want it to be over. She wanted it to last forever, for Monica to stay with her forever. She bent down to kiss her hair, angry with herself for needing to feel so close to the angel, hating herself for loving her.

“Monica…” Kathleen whispered.

The angel opened her eyes and looked at Kathleen, a slight smile on her lips. “Hm?”

“You… you don’t have to stay any longer, if you don’t want to.” She shrugged, hoping to appear unconcerned. “You should feel glad. You saved George from his spiritual death… or whatever.”

Monica smiled fondly at Kathleen now, a genuine smile. “No, Kathleen. You saved him.”

Kathleen rolled her eyes. She didn’t get it. “Well, at any rate…”

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked, her voice soft, her Irish lilt barely recognizable.

Kathleen was surprised by the question and then pondered it. “It’s not up to me. You do what you want to do.”

Monica moved closer to Kathleen, snuggling against her warm body. “Perhaps I should hang around and see what else is in store.”

Kathleen snorted. “Monica, you don’t have to…”

“I know.” She reached up and kissed her friend on the mouth, a chaste, familiar kiss. “But I want to.”

Kathleen tried to keep the emotion off her face as she reached for Monica and pulled the comforter over them both. Perhaps it wasn’t too late for repentance after all.

. . .

Miles away, in a little neighborhood off the edge of a local suburb, George’s wife rushed out to the driveway to hug her husband as he stumbled up the walk towards the door. She was glad he had made it safely in his drunken condition. His children also stood by, glad to have their father home and safe. At the same moment, a call was coming in to the police about a prowler in the neighborhood, and George was wondering if it had only been his imagination or if angels really were real…

END