With Buster still in ecstatic after glow in Chapter 19 and a not very hit upon transitional teaser in Ch 20, dear readers, the baby Angel awoke frightened by the possible fading out of her tale. Miss B.Angel had a sexsual fantasy of her ownie while Buster lay on the beach in coitus tsunamius with the mysterious tremenda Lilly Marlenya.
Having your feathery wings caressed, any angel, baby, teen or mature will tell you is like a foot massage from a talking foot! It's like a neck rub from the hands of the god of the neck, shoulders and back. So the fast asleep lil angel often dreamt of the wonderful wing ding of a fascinated yet trembling hand searching every silver seam and silky sliver of a feather's many facets.( If you have stroked as many feathers as this author you would know that they are nature's softest diamonds)
In the dream, she could not see the creature that performed the exquisite exploration, nor was she even sure it was a hand. But she knew the slow, sensitive probing of her now quivering wings must come from one whose past had provided the perfect preparation for this winged thing being done fantastically to her feathers.
There was a moment when even her sleeping self feared that the adventure in, around, under and between her beautifully unusual back might reveal its secret but then something about the next touch would bring reassurance in the form of the chills. Do you know those chills, dear decoder? The ones that start out cold, thus the nomer, but quick as arousal itself, warm the chill to a hot sweetness.
And so like the wisest massage client in the universe our own Miss Angel relaxed under the most meticulous and metastasizing chilly warmth of a feather rub ever experienced by a winged thing of any dimension or dynasty.
That is until the radiant rubber rasped his annoying name...