In the Arms of An Angel
Removing the remainder of his clothes, Sandoval laid face-down on the padded table and rested his head on his arms as he waited for the woman he could hear outside to enter.
It wasn't often that he came to the club to partake in the pleasures that the female employees had to offer, but there was something about having casual sex with a stranger that appealed to him. No names were given or spoken, the women were extremely compliant and very good at their jobs, but it wasn't a brothel and the women were far from prostitutes. Mostly, his reasons for visiting were the occasional memory block, a massage, friendly company and a good meal. Of, course, men like Tate came for one thing and one thing only: the ability to do whatever they wanted with a woman and get away with it because that was what the women were there for.
That had always disgusted Ron, he had never treated the women with disrespect and though he did expect compliance, he would never beat a woman.
After a moment, the door slid open and the gentle rustling of silk clothing against skin alerted him to the presence of another. Thanks to his enhanced senses, the first thing Ron noticed when the individual approached him was the fragrance of her perfume. Most of the Geisha's tended to wear something of an Oriental origin, but this woman was wearing the most inciting, soothing scent Ron had ever smelt. But that wasn't the only thing that made him notice it; he could've sworn that it was the very same fragrance DeeDee had favored throughout their courtship and subsequent marriage. She had always smelt like fresh peaches and oranges.
He heard the woman take a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly. Turning his head to the left, he watched as a slender, manicured hand reached out and picked up a small glass bottle of oil from the table beside him.
"Good evening, sir," the young woman greeted, a touch of timidity in her smooth, sweet voice, as she tipped some of the fragrant oil out onto her fair-skinned hands.
"What's your name?" Ron asked, curious. He didn't usually bother with such pleasantries, not even with the women he made loved to. But for some reason, without even having seen this young woman's face, he felt strangely drawn to her. There was just something about her that filled the room with a sense of serenity.
"You may call me Erin," she answered, beginning to run her skilled hands up the Agent's muscular back.
"Is that your real name?"
"Yes, it is."
"You have very good hands, Erin."
"Thank you."
Silence fell between them as Erin continued to work his tense muscles, her smooth hands gentle but firm as her long, slender fingers caressed every inch of the Implant's back and neck, slowly moving down to his uncovered legs and crossed arms. The hands wavered a little when she reached Raven, but the young woman merely worked around it, even giving the creature a slight stroke down its glowing back.
The sensuous movements were so relaxing that Ron found himself drifting off, but he didn't want to miss a single second of this pleasure, so he forced his eyes open and just stared at the unusual painting on the wall in front of him.
Erin surprised herself by keeping her hands steady and her face impassive as she performed her first professional massage. She'd given them to her room mate several times and Amanda had decided after experiencing one of her massages firsthand that Erin only needed one lesson to improve her skills. That one lesson must have enhanced her talent exponentially, unless she really had been good to begin with, because the FBI Agent appeared to be enjoying it immensely.
Even more surprising was the fact that she wasn't "grossed out" by the presence of the Skrill. The ominous purring it had emitted when she'd touched it didn't even unnerve her in the slightest.
After several long minutes, the agent's muscles were finally relaxed. Straightening up, Erin withdrew her oily hands and wiped them clean on the cloth provided beside the bottle. "All done," she announced, not so apprehensive any more.
Maybe this job isn't so bad, after all.
Placing a hand on the towel covering his buttocks so that it wouldn't fall off and expose his naked skin, Sandoval pushed himself up and turned around so that he was sitting on the edge of the table. He almost gasped when he finally set eyes on the young woman standing at the bottom of the table. My, God, she's beautiful.
The young woman's fine features were that of an angel, her long white-blonde hair pinned to her head in tight ringlets, her blue silk outfit fitting her shapely figure perfectly, allowing a slight view of her perfectly sized breasts, which were round and inviting, as were her incredible, deep-blue eyes. She was perfect...
"Is there anything else I can get you?" Erin asked, penetrating his admiring thoughts. "I believe it's been quite some time since your last memory block."
Why is he staring at me like that?
"No, that's not why I came here tonight," Sandoval replied. "Please, sit down." He gestured to the place beside him.
Hesitantly, Erin sat down next to the Agent, resting her hands in her lap.
"You're very beautiful, Erin," Ron complimented sincerely, smiling softly.
"Thank you," the young woman acknowledged quietly. The awkwardness had returned somewhat, from the look in the Implant's eyes, she was beginning to get an idea of what he wanted next.
Without hesitation, Sandoval reached out and ran his hand over her silken hair, unclipping the intricately crafted silver hair-clip that was shaped into a Celtic symbol of some sort, and let the long locks drape down over her half-covered shoulders. He noticed that she wasn't meeting his gaze, looking down at her hands, as he began to caress her angelic features. His fingers skimmed over her smooth, flawless skin, tracing her jaw line, slowly moving down to her neck and shoulders.
Erin's breathing began to quicken a little as the Agent's exploration reached her left shoulder. He gently slid the dress down a little further to expose more of her shoulder, then lowered his head and planted a gentle kiss on the firm yet bony flesh. She knew that she should stop him, tell him that she didn't want him to go any further, but she could not deny the feelings that this man was producing in her. She didn't want him to stop. And so when he attempted to free her arm form the dress, she allowed him to.
As the young woman's lithe frame began to quiver slightly, Sandoval brushed his fingers over the exposed area of her breast. But he soon became frustrated by the remainder of the dress and lace bra covering the majority of her. Ceasing his caresses, he was about to remove the unwanted items, when the young woman raised her hands, lowered the rest of her dress so that it fell down past her stomach, resting on her lap, reached behind her and unclipped her bra...
