The Angel and The Captain

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Let Angel and her Captain take you on a journey you will always remember.

Today’s Excerpt
The Angel and the Captain get busy for the first time.

I worked her pussy for a bit, first just working them at random, then I took my index finger and stroked the top of her pussy with a “come here” motion.
   Oh, this did it. Pretty quickly, too. She arched her back and screamed and shook. My first time making her come.
   This felt good. Not only had I made my Angel come, but I had made a drop dead gorgeous brunette young enough to be my daughter come and that felt really good because a lot of sex for us guys is conquering.

Angel’s version: 

He fingered me! Pretty good, too. No boy knows about turning the palm up and moving your finger like that. Boys just try to get the whole wrist in there, which kinda isn’t the point.

I’m surprised he didn’t lick me more. I mean, I’d heard older guys were like really good at this cause boys sure aren’t. It’s like they’re eating dessert, not making me come. I was ready to be licked for a long time and come a couple of times, but guys must have something to prove the first time cause he was fucking me pretty quickly.

Not complaining. He fucked me for 20 minutes, which was 19-and-a-half minutes longer than boys fuck me.

20 minutes of the man I love inside me. The very best love feels. Afterward, we snuggled, which was pretty good feels, too. He’s strong and has the arms and chest required to snuggle a pretty younger girl and make her feel safe and loved.


Previous Excerpts
March 7
   Look, I am not stalker!
   I swear!

   I merely aggregated assorted pieces of information I’d gathered over the past couple of weeks. Based on that aggregation, I happened to strongly suspect that Angel just happened to be a few minutes away from her lunch hour when I waddled up to the teller line. My plan was almost foiled by some other skank teller being available when I was next in line, but I recovered quickly and let Old Lady Bagsby go in front of me and soon enough I was able to present myself at Angel’s window with some BS transaction I could’ve done at the ATM. Angel herself presented the opportunity I was looking for when she asked me how I was doing.
   “I’m hungry. How about having lunch with me today?”

This is Angel’s version:

My captain is such a dork! This was not, is not, how you ask a girl out!
   I knew something was up, though. First, he let Mrs. Bagsby cut in front of him so he could visit my window. Second, his transaction could have been completed in his living room.
   Good. I was ready for something to be up. He was a handsome older gentleman, which I found highly erotic, but there was something else: he was very polite and he made me laugh, which put him two up on a lot of the boys who ask me out.  
   I’d always thought of him as The Captain. Everything about him, from his bearing to his stride to his signature screamed command, a scream I was open to hearing, frankly. The Captain always appeared to know exactly what he was about. I was ready for this, too.
   He wasted no time, either. I asked him how he was and he said hungry, he was going to lunch and why didn’t I join him?
   My stomach froze. I’d been waiting to hear those words for what seemed like an eternity…

March 9
I thought this might scare her. Age differences aren’t for everybody. In theory, they might be. I mean, what guy my age wouldn’t want a woman half his age, especially a really foxy one? Hubba-hubba. I spent more than one night on the road in the sack with an older woman, usually one who was married and bored. But when it comes down to actually building something meaningful, some common interests, like your 20’s are helpful.

And Angel’s version:

 I was worried about to eat! I mean, I liked him even then and I wanted him to like me. I am such a worry-wart! It was obvious he liked me. He paid attention to me and made me feel important and no boy scoped me out like he did. But us girls don’t like to eat too much on the early dates. I mean, what if he thinks I was a hog?!   
   I really like their chicken fried steak, though. A lot. So when he asked what I was going to have – because The Captain orders for his Angel – I played it coy. I told him I couldn’t decide between some sort of ten-calorie salad or the chicken fried steak.
   The Captain didn’t even blink. He asked if I wanted mashed potatoes or French fries and of course I said mashed potatoes because that is the only proper side dish with chicken fried steak. He asked if I would present violent objection to starting with some mozzarella sticks and those are really good there, too, and I said, no, there will no objection, violent or otherwise, to those, which made him laugh.

March 11

So I introduced Angel, noting this was her first fine dining experience. Mr. Barrett took her hand and brought his mouth close to it without actually kissing it, stepped back, and took Angel in.
   “The stars have danced for us with your presence here tonight,” he said, which made Angel blush.
   I smiled warmly.
   “Barrett, how in the hell am I ever going to top that?”
   “Sir, you have surpassed even your high standards. She shines amidst the brightness.”
   Angel cried after that one.
   “Yeah,” she said between sobs. “How are you ever going to top that?”

And Angel’s version:

I was still insecure in the bathroom getting ready! I mean, there are women his age out there. Pretty women, successful women, not tellers at a bank. Women who could probably suck the chrome off a bumper. I see them all the time at the bank. Why me? These are women who’ve been here before and are accustomed to the finer things in life, not some girl wondering if she’ll measure up.
   I did measure up, though. Nailed it, dead solid perfect. I was in heaven and was a perfect Angel.
   I was so nervous I actually hesitated before walking out the bathroom door, my heart in my throat.
   My Captain looked me over, took both my hands and said I was every man’s dream. I was, of course, but I  needed to hear that. It would be the last time I was insecure with him. He made me feel special and, well, so me.
   My Captain let me walk into the restaurant a bit ahead of him. I wasn’t looking for an audience, but I seemed to have one.
   “Why’s everybody looking over here?” I asked, looking back.
   The Captain put his hands on my waist and his mouth near my ear, which always turned me on..
   “Because they wish they were you.”
   I began to cry. People wishing they were me! Imagine!

March 12
   I’d met a few moms over the years, so I wasn’t particularly nervous about meeting Angel’s, but, you know, you want to make a good impression and you certainly want to get along with her, so while I wasn’t nervous I knew it was a big day and I was on my best behavior.
   I don’t know who came up with the idea of Sunday dinner, but it was brilliant. I always have Sundays off because there generally aren’t a whole lot of amateur sports to officiate on Sundays and I slept in, worked out to ensure I had a good appetite and Angel and I were at Ma’s house around 2pm or so.
   Sunday dinner growing up is still a great memory. Grandma and grandpa would come over and us guys would watch whatever ballgame was on while the women putzed around in the kitchen, gossiped and whined about their husbands. Dad and grandpa – who was mom’s dad – got along great and were usually buzzed, and sometimes blitzed by mid-afternoon. When I was in the Navy and out at sea what I thought about most, besides getting some, was Sunday dinners growing up.
   So I hadn’t had a family Sunday dinner in ages and was really looking forward to it. In the past Sunday dinner was usually fast food and I was happy when Sunday dinners at Angel’s mom’s house became a tradition.
   My real worry was that her mom would turn out to be my age, or younger, but we could jump off that bridge if we got to it.
   I got lucky. We hit it off from the start! Could not have asked for anything better. It probably had to do with the fact she made meatloaf. I like meatloaf. A lot. She’s Italian, so meat loaf probably wasn’t her first choice under the circumstances, but Ma later said Angel had told her I was an All-American guy and what All-American guy doesn’t like meat loaf?

And Angel’s version:

   Their bond was immediate. The Captain was, of course, closer to her age than my age, but he hadn’t had a mom for years and everyone needs a good mom, so I wasn’t surprised. Girls know these things.
   My Captain is such a dork! He was eager to help with dinner, but there wasn’t much for him to do because mom only planned on meatloaf and mac and cheese so to shut him up she looked in the frig, pulled some stuff out and told him to make a salad. Well, my Captain can no more make a salad than he can fly to the moon and he soaked it dressing and mom and I both laughed, with him because he was laughing, too. He said he meant well, which earned a kiss on the cheek from mom.
   He kept quiet during dinner, though. This was OK because mom and I generally catch-up and chat over dinner like mothers and daughters do. Besides, he really loved mom’s meatloaf and mac and cheese and I know how focused he can get. My Captain, who is always in complete command when he referees, was sitting there with a contented look the whole way, almost like a kid’s. Again, mom’s instincts were spot on. She didn’t make a hundred different things because she sensed The Captain would enjoy the meatloaf and mac and cheese so much he’d want to eat more of it than he probably should.
   Mom fussed over him, too. I think she deliberately gave him small portions so she could have the satisfaction of serving him multiple times.

March 13

   Ma waved a hand.
   “It’s been tough, I ain’t gonna lie to you. But it would’ve been tougher with him around. He had no clue. We didn’t need a drunk around the house, so – and she doesn’t know this – I told him I wouldn’t exactly block his way to the door if he wanted to leave. I didn’t pack his bag or anything, but I didn’t stop him, either. He left while we were out one day and I half-suspected that would be the day. I was right. I have no idea what became of him. Never heard from him and I didn’t go checking after him. She was three.”
   Ma’s life was a contrast from mine. She said she never really dreamt of too much as a kid. Getting married and raising a family, because that’s what everybody did, but she said she never wanted to be a nurse or an astronaut or anything like that. She had built a nice little career for herself at a retailer and now that Angel was on her own she could put more and more towards retirement, which wasn’t too far off.
   “I got lucky. Work worked out real well. It didn’t have to, but I work hard and they wanted to keep me. There were a couple of men interested in making a family, but who knows what’s going to happen? My daughter didn’t need another man bailing on us, so I kept them away.”

More from Angel:

   This was a great day. He was calling her Ma, and I don’t think he was doing this consciously. I still remember it. At least until I fell asleep. It had been a long week and I was tired. They must have talked for a long time because my Captain was sleeping on the couch when I woke up.
   It was the last time he slept on the couch. Mom loved the Captain and she redid my bedroom. My twin bed was gone, replaced by a bed that sleeps two. I wasn’t even consulted! Not that I minded; it went from being my room to our room. We could come over anytime.

March 16
   Angel was up for a promotion at work. It was a good one, too. Not lead teller or anything like that, but personal banker, a couple of steps up.
   I’ve felt from the start she’s bound for something more than what she’s doing now. Not that working in a bank is bad but, you know, I’ve always felt there was something she hasn’t bothered to admit to herself. As she’s said once, we can sometimes be our biggest obstacle. But when she was ready to admit this to herself she would.
   Anyway, one of my jobs as both boyfriend and the older man in her life is to provide some support and guidance here. She had an interview with a regional manager and Angel was fretting over what to wear. Well, I have an eye for this, believe it or not, so I went through Angel’s wardrobe and didn’t really see anything that screamed Professional Promotion. So I took her to a gal I know at a place I’ve bought a suit or two, plus my standard khakis and polo shirts. It’s a pretty classy place and, of course, has a full line of women’s stuff.
   The gal is Rita. We had dated years ago for a small while and we’ve remained on decent terms ever since. She knows clothes like few others and always makes me look better than I deserve and I knew she’d have something perfect for Angel. I had called her before to warn her of our arrival.
   “So. You’re the one that finally stole this good man’s heart.”
   Angel nodded. I had told her Rita and I had dated years ago, and Angel didn’t seem particularly comfortable right now for some reason that I as a guy could not possibly fathom.
   “He says you need something appropriate for a promotion…”
   “Banker. I’m a teller now, and this would be quite a step up.”
   Rita put a hand to a cheek, looked Angel over, then glanced at me.
   “Beautiful young woman…”
   I tried not to look like a dirty old man, maybe with success, maybe not. Angel has always been the most beautiful female I’ve ever seen. Rita then bent her knees, smiled, took Angels hand and dragged her away. Later they came back with a nice pant suit and blouse that had success written all over it. They also had a dress that I willingly got conned into buying even though it was about as appropriate for a job interview as a track suit.

Angel’s version:

   Rita was so old! Probably older than Mom, thought I didn’t ask. She was kinda big, with graying hair, though she was probably cute when she was younger, though not as cute as I am. She looked me over like a she would look over a dryer she was considering purchasing.
   “So. He told you we were a thing ages ago?”
   I nodded. I didn’t really want to know about my Captain’s past things.
   “A good man. Very focused.”
   I nodded, hoping that was it. I don’t know why. Rita is a very nice lady. And good at what she does. The Captain brought me here for a reason.
   “He wouldn’t bring anyone here. I’m the best there is. You going to marry him?”
   “Hope to.” Damn whore. I’d wish she’d shut the fuck up.
   “As you should. All right, let’s get to work. Promotions are serious business. I guarantee you’ll look the part.”
   She had the same confidence my Captain has. That was better. She looked me over again, correctly guessed my size, then went away and came back a few minutes later with two armfuls of clothes. Dresses and pant suits.
   After a lot of fussing I chose something simple, a navy blue pant suit with an ivory blouse. It was a tough choice between that and a blue dress.
   “Wear the pant suit. Trust me. It says confidence and success better than the words themselves. Besides, you’re not dressing for this job, but for the interviewer’s job. But we’ll get him to buy the dress for you, too.”
   “I don’t know…”
   “I do. Older men just love buying things for younger women.”
   We had some laughs when we brought the clothes out.
   “Excuse me, Sir,” I said. “Is it true old men like to buy things for hot, younger women?”
   My Captain laughed.
   “It is.”
   “Good,” Rita said “She is going to give you an opportunity to do just that!”
   I took out the pant suit and showed him. He whistled. Or tried to. My captain is such a dork! He knows he can’t whistle and he still tries! Then I showed him the dress.
   “All right, I’ll need a couple of hours to get these tailored, but they’ll be ready this afternoon. She will blow whomever is interviewing her away. Gimme your credit card, old man.”
   I ended up liking Rita.

March 24
We passed the state transportation yard, the first sign you’re arrival in hell is imminent, and a few seconds later we passed the town limits sign. It was old and green and beat up and announced the town had a population of 1,369, a figure that hadn’t been updated in years and was probably a bit optimistic.
   “One thousand, three hundred and sixty-nine! My high school was bigger than that!”
   “Your high school probably also had a decent place to eat,” I said, as I parked on the curb right in front of the diner.
   Angel got out, standing as close to the car as she could without being inside it, lest she catch a disease. She looked around, retaining her look of sheer horror.
   “My God. You actually lived here?”
   I laughed. Downtown ain’t much. The diner. A gas station. The town hall. Danny’s bank a block down. Old Man Sager still had his insurance business, probably still open out of sheer habit. There wasn’t much else.
   “Ha! You and me are moving here! Ma too!”
   Angel – and this might well end up being my favorite memory of her because it still makes me laugh – lowered her sunglasses and gave me an evil look.
   “My Captain,” she said. “I will follow you to hell if need be. But not here.”

Angel’s version:

   “People live here?”
   Those were my first words after getting out of the car in what the Captain called downtown but more resembled ghost town. We were having lunch at the diner, meeting his Aunt Marsha, who’s not really his auntie but was his mom’s best friend. My Captain hadn’t told anyone he was bringing his fiancé with him, so no one had a clue.
   Marsha is a gas! I loved her instantly.
   Marsha almost killed me, hugging me so hard I was almost squished. Then Margie the waitress squished me, too. The Captain said Margie had been waiting tables at the diner as long as he could remember and it was important she also met me.
   I got grilled left and right! It was funny. They wanted to know all about me, of course, and if Marsha is important to the Captain, and she is, then Marsha is important to me. Let me tell you something, I found the small-town atmosphere completely constricting and I wanted to leave, but I told Marsha everything she wanted to know, which was basically how I’ve passed every waking moment since birth. She called both me and the Captain “kid” and “kiddo” interchangeably.
  Marsha was thrilled when this kiddo said we were on our way to Vegas to get married and that we took the liberty of making reservations for her to be there.
   The Captain owns a home there, the family home he inherited from his folks. I don’t think it’s changed much over the years. Marsha says she rents it out from time to time, but never for too long and maybe it’s rented out for half the year? The Captain says this is OK because that’s long enough to pay the taxes on it and make a little money, too. The gardener comes every week and Marsha dusts and looks after it but usually it sits empty.
   It’s pretty nice. There are family pics all over, including lots of my Captain when he was growing up. He mentioned something about selling it one day but I don’t really think he wants to. It’s half my house now, but whatever my Captain wants is fine with me.
   I met a couple of his old friends, too. Danny runs the local bank and I know something about banks and he’s doing a pretty good job. Everything about the branch looks prosperous, including Danny. We talked about banking for a little bit, which I think bored the Captain.
   Danny then explained the Captain’s financial situation to me. The Captain ordered this because I would be his wife in a few days and it was important to him I knew these things. I even signed some things, even though I wasn’t his wife yet. Danny made some lame joke about if I came to my senses and decided not to marry “this yahoo” we could always reverse everything.
   Then another friend, Ike came and brought lunch. Ike is a cop and was on duty and I could tell he had the biggest crush on me. He talked about their senior year football team and Ike bragged about how many touchdown passes he caught, which made me laugh because it was plain he was exaggerating. Later, the Captain said the number of touchdowns he had keeps going up every year and at his current pace he should have the national high school record in a few years.


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