Malachi fell in love with this sweet shy girl from Paris because she was so dissimilar from the obstinate, hostile women he’d known before. But now, she was behaving like a spoilt brat and he didn’t even know it.
A spotless home-carer, she liked keeping houses original and clean. Being very house-proud meant she ensured Malachi’s floating apartment and the Swiss chalet were perfect. Her man could be a bit of a grotty grouch at times semen encrusted bed sheets, undies with skid marks lying all over the floor, dirty magazines on the floor of the toilet, semen filled tissues decorating the coffee table. It was a disgusting job tidying up after him.
Often she would clean the house in her black knickers trimmed with red lace and her bra to match and today while she was cleaning the den Malachi helped slip them off. By this time her red neck had returned to its original colour. As if she was starving she sucked ferociously on his tongue. He could feel himself stiffen straight away. Immediately he broke out into profuse sweating. She ripped his legs apart and started jerking his extra long penis. He was panting like a wild panther. All he wanted to do was enter her, shove his big cock into her beautiful inlet but she’d strung him along playing a forceful game of tug-o-war with his doodle continually. He flipped over the happy feeling her breasts caused, blow by violent blow against his mustang muscly chest saturated with sweat. All of a sudden he could not resist her utter sweetness and gently removed her hands shoved her under him and separated her sexy legs.
Like an uncivilised prisoner of war he made a deep guttural sound, as of a hog, he had driven with force himself into that charming fiery moderately wet escape hatch.
Twists and turns and much bucking and grunting filth, stabbing of his weapon of destruction as if he’d wanted to finish her off, bodies frothed from profuse sweat, gagging, the world around them virtually non-existent, thinking only of their own voluntary motion mingled with undeniable pleasure.
Angea-Lea ended the romance with a beautiful song, “Allow your over-hearty angel to keep you in good spirits making your surroundings pleasant and bright lifting you with cheerful songs all through the night.”
Without a word they lay on the carpeted floor staring at the elaborate ceiling depicting cherubs and roses in the softest pink and green listening to the last of the falling snow fall to the ground with a hush outside, as gratified as ever.
The yelping of Jiminez playing horse and rider startled them. Malachi was a little annoyed but Angea-Lea soon let him know he is just a boy having fun. “I’m just a boy having fun but I don’t make that much noise.”
“Oh yes you do, you grunt like a pig,” Malachi told him.
“So do you,” Jiminez told him with cheek.
Malachi screwed his tongue into her belly button then she was up off the floor wrapping a towel around herself and her mate to hide their privates from the boy.
They enjoyed each other’s company and the last thing Malachi would want is for their relationship to deteriorate. He had always been her shoulder to cry on.
Being tactual and zealous by nature meant that Malachi fully appreciated her enticements and felt it was easy to pour out his affections on her. Together they soaked up the wonderful ambience of honey coloured antique bedroom wardrobes, antique cottageware crockery, crinoline lady sets, carnival glass, a black marble mantle antique clock on a teak “McIntosh Scotland” circa buffet that sort of thing. Angea-Lea adored the Edwardian wash stand of maple timber with rouge marble top and oval mirror plus splash-back that stood pride of place in the corner of the master bedroom. The previous owner of the fully furnished chalet was a bachelorette who loved to travel and bring back souvenirs to decorate the chalet.
* * * * * *
Back in Paris Junré was cleaning Angea-Lea’s bedroom when she noticed her diary on the bedside table. It was unlocked and she opened the book of secrets reading her last few entries. Hot sex with Malachi was enough to have Junré tell Antaeus everything. When Antaeus rang the floating palace Malachi’s answering machine had left the message: Gone to Switzerland to be with Angel Baby!
Antaeus was furious and they decided within a week they would go to Switzerland to rescue their little girl.
* * * * * *
Malachi collected Angea-Lea’s good points like shells. He kept her qualities to himself lest some other males steal her away. He cast his mind casually back to the wasted times he’d spent with female raffs caught up on life’s roller-coaster their dark sides creepy it all made him feel nauseous.
His relationships were short-lived and each one fuelled by the previous broken one. Round and round the absurdity spun him almost knocking the sanity out of him.
He was tired of being the victim of domestic violence, many of his women played rough, then took off with money they had stolen from his wallet to waste on the latest fashion or dirty books advertising men’s cocks. They would cover up their evil ways by telling the public he was a lusty rake forcing himself on them, but if they had not been firmly attracted to his somewhat long Mr. Loveable…
The labour of the splits was heart-wrenching.
This was all owned by the past, he rarely chewed the cud about his past preferring to plan ahead. He needed characters in his love-story to be sincere and he firmly believed Angea-Lea was this.
Thus she interviewed the next guy in the frame lighting the candles a fourth time in the wee hours of the morn. Grenediere Bloostarkenn, 26, a salesman from a picturesque place near Lugano called Gandria.
Her body felt ready for sex as her bright eyes clasped themselves on his cheeky face, his broad chest, his heavily muscled abs and rather plump lengthy penis and balls resembling golf balls. She breathed heavily as if she was right in the midst of sexual intercourse. Moonshine rested on her light golden hair making each silk thread sparkle. A sweet smelling breeze wafted in through the open window. She looked up at him in awe as if he were God himself and she blew the question through her dewy lips. “One thing you pride above all else?” ‘A man’s rights!’ “Ooh!” she said back at him, “A man in his own right.” She felt he could be quite a domineering man, her heart skipped a beat from a touch of nervousness. “Which movie star do you most resemble?” ‘Harrison Ford in his heyday.’ He had that boyish look about him his sandy blond hair parted in the middle the rest in German helmet style with a pure white streak at the front on both sides of the part. Angea-Lea thought he looked as though he’d been kissed by falling snow. “My knees knock when….?” ‘I’m kissed on the bum.’ Kissing both her palms she then patted both cheeks of her bottom as if he’d been the one to do it.
“Most highly prized possession?” ‘My penis.’
She threw her head back as if she was a movie star receiving an award proud to be seeing this lovely gent soon. She wondered how he would make love to her, would he dive right in or just take his time easing into her like some of the others? “What drives you bananas?” ‘When a woman climax’s before me.’ Angea-Lea told him she would try to wait till he caught up. “Who you worship decides who you become, who do you worship that you desire with all your heart to become?” ‘The Terminator.’ “How tasty, all those muscles to lick those huge nipples to suck yowee! I hope you evolve into him.” Leaping in the air she tried to reach for the stars but missed. “Best line you’ve been given to start up a love connection?” ‘Wanna make a cake with my ripe banana and toasted nuts?’ “A bottom-bonker who eats pork chops for breakfast!” Her skin became pale at the thought, she felt weary from lack of sleep, almost despairing, yet determined and persevering. “A dare that made you despair?” ‘I was made to masturbate my pee-shooter on my front step that faced a very hectic thoroughfare.’ “Oooh! That was daring. Now the answer from the judge and her jury of sexperts: Only one woman who holds passion in her heart and compassion in her hands can climb down your chimney, that is me!”
That morning she was off dressed in a black poly/spandex dress with nothing underneath. After she had met him at the pyramid after a wish was accepted by the angels she travelled with him past overgrown vegetation just above lapping waters that led to the precariously perched village of Gandria, lazing away the days in a placid corner of the Lago di Lugano. They’d reached it by boat from Lugano. A small fishing village and once a smuggling port for pirates. Round the winding streets they drove to the Hotel Locanda Gandriese that offered a clean room overlooking the lake. He lay her on the brass and iron bed after removing her dress with the greatest of ease. She had run her sweet little fingers over the beautiful foot end with brass rosettes, turned pieces and rings, legs encrusted with brass before he had undressed her.
Grenediere reflected on an old adage he had heard his grandmother say to his grandfather when he was a teenager, ‘I am not a rock so stop boring into me with your hammer drill!” With this warning firmly etched in amongst his twelve billion brain cells he lay gently on top of her ready and eager to enter, he eased himself in by rubbing back and forth at first, and for a few minutes lingered against her lower body, slowly grinding his pelvis against her slippery clitoris – stimulating her G-spot in the process.
His stirring mind conjured up a style of sex that hadn’t ever been tried before. She was now on top of him, he held and massaged her breasts, rubbed and lifted her rear and generally kept his hands on the boardgame. To Angea-Lea his wandering hands made her feel heavenly. He had sprung hope up in her heart a hope she’d climax with him at the same time. Catching his attention, tears of sadness fell from those eyes of his so filled with pity and love, he’d thought she had probably never experienced love like this before, but little did he know.
While still inside her he twitched her aching clitoris it was a magic move that she needed and appreciated. They both came together.
Kissing him was like kissing a cherub he turned out to be a very pleasant man with lips that kill.
Tall and well built he felt he had just the right number of fake snowy white hairs and apparent ripeness needed to steal the heart of an angel.
Angea-Lea possessed life-giving power and Grenediere praised her and honoured her for doing such a wonderful thing as saving his mother’s life from death. She healed her by taking her arm, the disease fled at her touch. The pallor of death was gone; the life-giving current flowed through her veins, her muscles receiving their strength. Words of comfort and peace were spoken to her son.
He dwelled much on her greatness after she’d left.
Grenediere would forever remember how physically and spiritually beautiful Angea-Lea was.
* * * * * *
Junré glanced back in time to Angea-Lea’s early teenage years at times quarrelling, heated arguments that went nowhere and the occasional all-out screaming match.
Now that Angea-Lea had strapping Australian Malachi Castle her mother felt a little jealous of her youthful, budding beauty, Junré didn’t quite know how to handle the emotions or how to manage them.
Uncertainty and self-doubt disturbed the smooth running of her life now. A time of questioning and reassessing who she really is and who she wanted to be.
Grey hair and wrinkles only added to the erosion of her self-esteem and confidence.
The presence of youthful Angea-Lea became threatening and challenging.
Doubts, jealousy, anger over whether or not she was a good mother to her daughter in this age-denying society was rearing its ugly head and it was worrying especially when Junré was used to turning heads.
But just before Angea-Lea left for the college she too was going through a stage of self-assessment asking herself as any typical teenager would ask “Am I pleasing to the eye?” “Are people fond of me?” “Am I important” “What will I do with the rest of my life?” and “Will I have much money and possessions or will I have little wealth and goods?”
Even though her mother had the experience, wisdom and a storehouse of knowledge behind her she still found it difficult to cope with the angst.
Junré wished she could wear figure hugging or revealing clothes like mothers her daughter’s age are wearing now.
The competition almost drifted them apart. How she wanted to look as good as her daughter nurturing and empathy and the parent child relationship were the key components nothing else.
She grieved over her lost youth.
Since Malachi came into the household he had a calming effect on the tumultuous relationship and they both learnt from him how to communicate effectively and the skills of how to deal with conflict through the use of “I” messages. “I trust myself, I feel happy, and I want something new.” She went to a relationship house and did a course called The Best Years Are Yet Ahead created to help her navigate midlife and progress to enjoying her “second young adulthood.”
* * * * * *
Malachi had the chance to share with his boy some important tips on fishing for the day that they settle in Australia.
“It’s not hard to get hooked on fishing Jiminez,” expressed Malachi to the boy who was all ears. “I used to catch a fish called cod under woody debris.”
“How come they were found there?”
“Because they like to hide there that is their home, they ride the debris from underneath down the currents it slows them down they prefer to take it nice and slow.”
“What other fish like hiding under snags?”
“Golden perch and yellowbelly, freshwater catfish and tandanus.”
“Yellowbelly?” he laughed uproariously.
“Yeah, golden tum-tum,” Malachi richly added, together they giggled till their tummys burst.
* * * * * *
It was known to quite a few men around town that Angea-Lea had quite an edacious sexual appetite and word was getting around to that effect. She was fast earning a reputation as a man’s plaything. The latest of the heart-throbs was thinking of all of the many secret love-nests he could take her to in case she had a man. He always had something up his trousers.
Whereas, a playboy, Malachi may have been, but since he had met beautiful Angea-Lea, he had been careful to stick with her only.
He looked back once again at all the brothels he had visited nearly every one throughout the world. There were women all over Switzerland he’d shagged, but the lust he had for these playgirls just died.