Her form is lithe. With muscles that outlined the svelte body hidden under that favored sweater. Angela hugs herself to me. Her eyes are lidded, just a bit, and her cheeks flush.
Whether that's from arousal or embarrassment. That's anyone's guess.
I don't point it out. Instead I bring my hand to her cheek, and with small strokes I pet her. She shivers at my warmth.
Nothing. I had done nothing for her to be like this.
"My hero…" She repeats under her breath, likely gathering courage for an act far from familiar to her. A hand grasps gently onto my fingers.
She pulls me to the headboard, my back slamming gently and propping me up. And Angela… She makes herself comfy on top of me. Her own legs stradling mine, and of course the hardness.
"For me…?"
Angela mutters.
"Yeah… yeah for me…"
She must be out of it.
