Angela and The Big Park Tease by Lindsey Flinch Bedder

Author:Lindsey Flinch Bedder [Bedder, Lindsey Flinch]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Book 1 in Angela's Adventures
Publisher: Flinch, Bedder
Published: 2012-06-20T05:00:00+00:00

TYLER'S SECOND TASK

TYLER RETURNED, LAUGHING.

HE had one coke, and he held it above me. If I wanted a drink, and I did, I’d have to climb to my elbows.

Naughty boy!

I thereby created another potential breast show for the front row of my audience. Conversation levels always rise and fall in crowds, but I seriously noticed that the conversation around me slowed when I moved, and surged when I stayed still. In a very real sense, I was the center of the universe. Just like I always knew I was.

For a while I buzzed along on my exhibitionist high, and Tyler sat beside me, both of us enjoying how hot I was being.

Then he tried to ask me questions about what I was feeling. I tried to answer but I was fuzzy and incoherent. I had the pre-orgasmic version of baby-brain. Maybe my circulatory system was routing all the blood to my reproductive system?

My oxygen-starved brain shuffled through a card deck of lewd images: Me standing. Me walking through the crowd with a ‘don’t mind me’ smile. Me enticing strangers. Me sitting in someone’s lap. Strangers filling me with cum. Me pressing myself against that guy over there, and then that guy, and that other guy too. Me with a series of cocks in my mouth.

In the real world of Bryant Park, my gaze floated from face to face. People stared back at me, men and women. I enjoyed the women, but the men seemed to know they could turn me on with their eyes.

I don’t remember what I said to Tyler, but I remember he enjoyed it.

Finally I closed my eyes and calmed down. It almost felt like the end of an orgasm. In fact, I wasn’t entirely sure I hadn’t just come. Maybe I’d just experienced some kind of weird situational zen climax.

Now I was able to talk, and Tyler talked about my body, which he thought was fantastic. Big boobs. Tapered waist. Muscle definition. Tan, with evocative tan-lines that were filling in. He even liked all my little scars… I love roller blading, but I’m about as graceful as a camel that is also on roller blades.

Our conversation covered a lot of ground, actually. He asked the questions he should have been asking since I decided he loved me. Yes, I work out. I do Crossfit. Yes, I wear those little sports bras and Lululemon shorts to lift weights. Yes, he could come watch some day. No, I wouldn’t mind if he tried Crossfit too. I only worried about him needing muscles.

Then we talked about my kabballa tattoo. Yes, I’m a trend whore. Yes, I regretted it. Yes, I knew it was goddamn sexy. No, I didn’t have a side-boob shirt that showed the tattoo off. Yes, he could buy me four or five. Yes, I felt that bras were negotiable, not mandatory.

“Body writing is sexy in general,” he mused.

I asked, “What is body writing?”

“Angela,” he said, “that’s where people write on their fucking bodies.”

We giggled. Then he pulled a pen out of his satchel and scooted around me.

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