NOTICE:
This is a work of fiction concerning illicit sex between an adult male 
and a female child.  If such erotica is not your taste or if it is iliegal 
for you to read such material, please go away now.  Be warned, this is graphic.


New Story: Angela, the Full Story, Chapter 1 Mf11, ped, rape, cons, noncons,Exhib

   I first noticed Angela about a month ago, I guess.  I had probably
passed her on the street a dozen times before my mind was not so full of
other things that it connected that she was there.  Quickly let me tell you
a bit about myself.  I'm 45, tall and thin.  I got out of prison three
years ago after serving eleven years of a fifteen year sentence for
molesting a 10 year old girl.  Ever since then I've been reporting to my
probation officer every month and working at keeping my nose clean.  I am
fascinated by little girls and masturbate three or four times a day
thinking about them.  Somehow in my misery and loneliness I missed spotting
such a wonderful target child.  Now she was in my sights.  I faced an
instant dilemma...  do I risk going back to prison - for life this time -
or do I taste the forbidden fruits again?

   The day I first became aware of her I was headed to my piss ant job as
usual.  After serving a quarter of my life behind bars I still had child
support payments to make, parole payments to make, and somehow I had to
scratch out enough to live on.  At least I wasn't wearing a monitor.  When
you have a record like mine you're damned lucky not to be living in a
mission or under a freaking bridge.  With my college degree in biology, a
reasonable head on my shoulders, and tremendous drive to succeed, I had
landed a job as a research lab tech.  It wasn't much of a job, routine as
hell, but it did afford me access to a well-supplied lab and enough money
to keep going.  With my record my chance of advancement was zero so in
prison or in the free world, the future looked bleak.  Angela might
brighten up the here and now.  If I had known everything about Angela that
I know now, I'd never have gotten involved.

   The next morning I saw her again.  She was wearing the same dirty jeans
and oversized flannel check shirt she had on the day before.  Her feet were
bare and dirty, her toenails painted blue, and her light brown hair was
tied back in a ponytail.  The shirt was unbuttoned to about mid chest
exposing her only slightly developed chest.  I judged her to be about 11 or
12 years old.  The jeans were ripped at the knees.  I guessed that was done
on purpose rather than by accident.  Her face was reasonably clean,
evincing an effort on her part to care for herself.  She was thin, probably
more from lack on nourishment that from metabolism.

   "Hi, little girl," was the brilliant line I came up with.  She looked up
at me, squinting in the morning sunlight.  She looked me up and down before
she spoke.

   "Why you talking to me?" She asked.

   "I saw you here yesterday.  I thought you might need some help."

   "I don't need no help, mister." Her defiance only slightly surprised me.
No doubt other men had hit on her for exactly the same reason I was.  I
just had to be better at my craft than they were.  She turned slightly and
I caught sight of her left nipple as the shirt bulged out.  My cock reacted
as expected.

   "No worries.  Just thought you might want to go to McDonalds for a
hamburger sometime.  Maybe get some ice cream."

   "McDonalds?  You'd take me to McDonalds?" I could tell I'd hit a hot
button.  My cock jumped again.

   "Sure, if you want." I saw her smile for the first time.  It wasn't much
of a smile, more like a big grin, but it was an opening.  I knew I had a
shot at this little street urchin.  Fantasies began to swirl in my head and
I wanted to jack off looking at her.  "Tell you what...  I get off work at
4.  I'll come by and if you're here we can go then." The deal was made and
reluctantly I headed off to my meaningless job.  You can guess where my
head was all day.  I couldn't stop thinking about her left nipple on her
little slightly developed chest.

   My boss probably wondered why I went to the bathroom so many times
during the day but I had five great orgasms as I masturbated waiting for
the clock to finally reach four.  There was no doubt in my mind that I was
going to have this child.

   Angela was waiting for me, sitting next to the stoop where I'd seen her
this morning.  She still had on the same jeans.  Her flannel shirt was
unbuttoned and tied just below her chest and she wore flip flops on her now
reasonably clean feet.  She had obviously brushed her hair and more
carefully tied it up in her ever present ponytail.  It was if she had got
ready for a date with me.  I realized that a trip to McDonalds meant
something to her.

   We got a few stares at McD's but I ignored them.  One guy saw through me
immediately.  I imagined he wished he had found her first.  Angela downed
not one but two Happy Meals and sat the little toys on the table between
us, fiddling with them childishly.  Seeing her act like a child filled me
with more lust than I had felt earlier.  She was a child.  And I was going
to do her.

   At the slurping sound of her empty cup, Angela looked at me, wondering
what was going to come next.  This was not her first time to be approached
by an older man.  Was he going to say goodbye and wander off or try to get
her to have sex with him?  Sex was not appealing to her yet.  At 11 years
old she lacked the hormones that would overtake her in a year or two, but
she'd suffered through and had to accept that sex was part of her life. 
Sex was why she was on the street; sex was what had chased her from the
home she had known most of her young life.  Sex was the driving force
behind Angela's poison.  It would take me almost a year to understand that.

   "Can I go now, mister?" I was stopped by her question.  She wanted to
leave.  I'd fulfilled my offer to her.  Now she wanted to leave.

   "Of course you can go.  But first, can you tell me your name?  I'd
really like to get to know you."

   "Why?"

   "Why what?  Why do I want to know your name?"

   "No.  Why do you want to know me?  I'm just a kid.  You're an old man."
I had to think quickly.  I had to outsmart a street smart girl.  I slumped
a bit in my chair.  I let out a bit of a sigh.  I looked at my hands and
acted as if I was about to share a secret.  I looked up into her brown
eyes.

   "OK, I'll tell you why, little girl." I paused more for effect.  I
already had my plan in mind.  "I was a street kid for a year when I was 10.
I don't even know how I lived through the year." Could I actually make a
tear run down my cheek?  "Then, just before I turned eleven, someone took
me in.  They were nice to me.  They let me sleep in their bed, they bought
clothes for me.  They let me go to school.  They were my family." Yep,
there goes that tear I was trying so hard to force.  Great effect!  "Ever
since then, since I grew up, I've been hoping to be able to do the same for
someone." Another pause as I dropped my glance back to my hands.  "I
thought for a minute that that person might be you."

   Nothing more was said for what seemed like awhile.  When I finally
looked up at Angela she was crying.  Not sobbing or anything like that, but
tears were streaming down her face making little dirty pathways to her
chin. I patted her little face with my napkin.  She was swallowing hard,
trying to regain control.  She stopped fiddling with the toys and looked in
my eyes.

   "You mean that?" she asked quietly, not wanting to believe me for a
minute.  "You mean you'd take me in and be my family?" I slightly nodded,
wanting her to believe that I was almost reluctant to do so.  She instantly
brightened up and her entire mood changed.  "My name is Angela.  I'm almost
12 and I sleep in a box under the stoop you saw me sitting on.  The people
in the house let me eat their left over stuff sometimes.  They have a boy
who always tries to feel me up and I hate him..."

   Angela prattled on for ten minutes before taking a breath.  I learned a
great deal about her, about her losing her virginity to her step father
when she was nine, about her running away sometime in the past.  She was
very vague about how long ago it had been, apparently having lost track of
time.  I learned that she can read and write and loves to dance.  I shoved
that piece of data away for future reference.  I also learned that she
didn't have on any underwear and hadn't had a bath or shower in a long
time. I didn't learn some of the things I wish I had.

   McD's was getting too full for my comfort and I suggested we leave. 
Angela was on her feet and moving with me with ease.  She continued her
nonstop talking as we walked the three blocks to my flat, a third floor
walkup with a view of a brick wall on one side and the street in front. 
I'd been living there over a year and had never seen or heard any of my
neighbors.  The only way I knew there was anyone else in the building was
seeing lights on in their windows on nights when I came home late from
work. It was a perfect set up for having a child there.

   We paused in front of the apartment building.  "Here's where I live. 
Are you coming up?" This was the moment for Angela to decide.  She paused
for a second, then took my hand and looked up at me from her 4'8" frame.

   "You gotta tell me something first."

   "What's that?"

   "You gonna try to fuck me?" I'd better think fast.  Of course I was
going to fuck her but how do I get her in the house and what do I do to get
her fucked?

   "Let me ask you a question first," I countered.  "How do you want me to
treat you?  Like a child or like an adult?" I caught her.  No child wants
to be treated like a child.  I had her and she knew it.  Now was her chance
to stay or to run.

   "Like an adult."

   "Then that's how I will treat you, Angela.  And sometimes adults fuck."

   "You gonna be nice to me or you gonna hurt me?" Of course I wanted to
hurt her.  I wanted to hear her scream in pain.  I wanted to rip her tight
little asshole open.  I wanted to shove my hard 8 inch cock down her tight
little throat and see her eyes bulge for lack of air.

   "Why would I hurt you, Angela?" I paused for a second then asked,
"Another question...  do you want to be my friend or my girlfriend?" She
gripped my hand tighter and smiled.

   "I'll be your girlfriend."

   "You want to be my girlfriend or be my wife?" She struggled with this
one.  No one had ever asked her to be his wife before.  The 11 year old
child almost swooned at the thought.  She felt her first surge of sexual
hormones and was overwhelmed.

   "Mister, if you want me to be your wife, then I'll be your wife.  Just
don't be mean to me, OK?" We pushed open the door and climbed the steps to
the third floor.


Ch 2

   Angela had been quite a find for me.  Alone in the world, or so I
thought, hungry and sleeping beneath a stoop, eating garbage and trying to
avoid a young boy's desire to feel her up, Angela had almost jumped at the
chance to be with me...  even agreeing to be my wife.  At "almost 12", that
seemed like a plan for getting her well accustomed to being fucked.

   We'd just reached my apartment when the phone rang.  I motioned for her
to be a bit quieter from her nonstop talking and good thing I did.  It was
my parole officer on the phone.

   "What took you so long to get home from work, Ralph.  It's almost five
and you got off at four."

   "Yes, I know, Ms.  Carlson, but I stopped to eat at McDonalds."

   "McDonalds?" she yelled.  "What the fuck are you trying to do, break
parole?  You know god damned well you can't go where kids congregate.  I am
damned tempted to have you picked up tonight." I felt a bead of sweat roll
down my back.  I'd spoken before I thought.  McDonalds, Burger King,
playgrounds, school yards, amusement parks...  each one was off limits to
me.  I'm not allowed in 50 feet of a kid and here I was with an 11 year old
target not 5 feet from me alone in my apartment.

   "Oh, jeez, Ms.  Carlson.  I didn't do anything wrong.  I just ducked in
for a burger.  Christ, I get so damned hungry for a burger and fries.  You
don't know how tough it is not to be able to grab a burger." I pleaded with
the bitch.  Carlson is so fucking hot to look at and such a bitch beneath.
I'd give anything to fuck her damned brains out and then watch her struggle
as I choked the life out of her.  Fat chance of that ever happening.

   "Listen, you son of a bitch.  If I find out you even looked cross eyed
at a kid I'll see to it you never see the outside of a prison's walls for
the rest of your life.  You understand me?" Carlson glanced around her
office to make sure no one was watching.  She snaked her hand up under her
short skirt and slightly spread her legs, letting her fingers sweep up her
leg to her crotch, amazed at how damp her pussy got when she got angry.

   She loved her power.  Given a head of steam with one of her child
molesters she could give herself an orgasm.  Her memories of her Dad rode
her like a cloud above her head.  How she had loved him.  Ralph was the
best looking of her 73 charges.  She knew damned well that he loved little
girls and that he probably jacked his dick thinking about them constantly.
She wished she could share her collection of confiscated kiddy porn with
him and watch him shoot a load.  She'd lick it up and then have him
arrested.

   "Yes, Ms.  Carlson.  I totally understand." Angela had moved closer to
him, wrapping her arm around his waist and leaned against him as he spoke.
She could tell he was under stress and she wanted to comfort him.  She
reached her hand out and caressed the little bulge in his pants.  She felt
it begin to grow as she massaged it.  "Yes, Ms.  Carlson.  I'll be there
right on time.  No, Ms.  Carlson, I haven't touched a drop of liquor or
smoked any dope.  You can have me tested if you want.  Yes, Mr.  Carlson, I
know you can do that.  Yes, ma'am.  I'll be on time."

   I sighed a huge sigh of relief when the call was over.  It wasn't until
then that I realized Angela was feeling me up.  "Oh, baby.  That's feels
good." Angela looked up at me and smiled.  A real smile this time.

   "Ah'm your wife, silly.  A wife knows when her man needs comforted." She
broke from me and looked about my meagerly furnished apartment.  "This is
nice," she said sincerely.  "You been here long?"

   "About a year, I guess.  It's not much but it's mine." Most of the
furniture had come from either Goodwill or stuff I'd found on street
corners that someone else had discarded.  What's left of my salary after my
deductions doesn't allow for many luxuries.  I did have a workable TV,
thanks to someone's generosity - a black man who had it in the trunk of his
car and in bad need of $20.  I hadn't asked where he got it and didn't want
to know.  All I knew for certain was that I now had a decent TV.  "You want
to watch some TV?"

   "No.  What I really wants to do is to take a bath.  You got any clothes
I can put on?  I ain't got nothing to put on but what you see.  I don't
even have no panties." She giggled at herself telling me that.  She'd told
me that when we'd been in McDonalds.  I began to wonder if that excited her
and hoped that it did.

   "You want one of my t-shirts?"

   "Yeah, that'd be OK." She cocked her head to the side.  "They long
enough to cover my butt?" She giggled again.  "I don't want you to see my
butt." I had to laugh with her.  I knew I was going to do a hell of a lot
more to her butt than see it but that was for later.  I fetched a long
white t-shirt and tossed it to her as I headed toward the bath.

   "Shower or bath?"

   "I wants a bath.  You got any bubbles?"

   "No.  But will shampoo work?" I left Angela alone in the bathroom for
almost an hour - long enough for me to jack off twice into her jeans
crotch. They had been good orgasms in the anticipation of what was to come.
I was thrilled when she exited the closed off bathroom and walked towards
me.  My t-shirt engulfed her.  She had stretched the shirt's neck out and
let it droop down low off her right shoulder.  She'd tied a knot at her
left hip which pulled the edge of the shirt up dangerously close to her
pussy.  She looked clean and innocent and sexy at the same time.  She
smelled of sweet shampoo and soap.  Her small bare feet were clean and
soft. Her damp hair hung down around her face, framing it angelically.  She
was my Angela.  She walked to me as if on a cloud and reached her arms up
to me.  I took her frail young body in my arms and kissed her.

   "This is our wedding night, husband." She softly said in our embrace. 
"You gotta know that I ain't no virgin but I ain't been used much, just a
couple a times.  I ain't never liked it or wanted it before but now I got a
husband and ah am ready." Her kiss filled us with passion.  I met her young
tongue as it searched for mine.  Her lips were soft and full and she tasted
as sweet as any honey.  She wrapped her arms around my neck as I picked her
up she wrapped her bare legs around my hips, grinding her naked young pussy
against me.  "I wants you, husband.  I wants your baby." I damn near came
in my pants.

   I carried the child to my bed and gently lay her on it.  I ripped at my
clothes, wishing I had bathed with her.  "Give me two minutes, little wife.
I gotta take a quick shower."

   "You care if I gets naked?" I smiled.  "Is it OK if I play with myself,
too?"

   "Show me what you mean." Angela lifted her butt from the bed and pulled
up the t-shirt, allowing me to see her smooth hairless slit for the first
time.  I watched as she stuck two fingers in her mouth and wet them.  The
little girl spread her thin legs and bent them, letting her knees fall to
the sides.  She began rubbing her slit up and down, finally resting on her
immature clit.  She began rubbing herself in tiny circles as her eyes
closed.

   "Oh damn," I muttered, fearful of cumming on the spot.  I ripped off my
clothes as I dashed to the bathroom.  My rock hard woodie made it harder to
shed my boxers.  In 43 seconds I was back in the bedroom dripping wet and
trying to dry off.  "My god, you look good, wife." She liked the game.  I
was willing to play it with her.

   "Are you my husband for real?" the child asked, looking up at me as I
towered above her, hope and fear mingling in her eyes.

   "Yes, wife.  I am your husband.  You are my wife." I lay beside the
little girl and held her against me.  She felt so tiny and frail in my
arms. She had shed her t-shirt and her little dubbing tits pressed against
my hairy chest.  I cupped her round butt cheeks in my hand, one hand
holding them both.  I shoved her cunt to me, knowing that in a matter of
minutes I wound be buried deep inside her.  I had to devour this child.

   Her mouth met mine again.  Her kisses were experienced, adult,
passionate, not little girl kisses but kisses of a woman.  It didn't cross
my mind that her ability to kiss was far beyond her age.  My dick had taken
over and all rational thought was long gone.  I had a beautiful, clean,
willing child in my bed.  My lips left hers and travelled to her neck. 
Heavy kisses, kisses designed to leave lasting marks.  I sucked hickies on
to her neck, her chest, her thighs, her inner legs.  I savored the smell of
her young pussy.  I briefly let my lips touch it and she jumped.  I
retreated to her chest and gently licked the sides of her budding breasts.
I took one nipple in my mouth and lick/sucked it.  I did the same to the
other.  I nursed her like a baby and heard her swoon.  I kissed hickies all
around each breast, a ring of red welts that would turn black and blue by
tomorrow.

   We spoke little if at all until my mouth caressed her pussy.  I took the
whole flower in my mouth and pressed my face to it.  "Oh god, husband.  Oh
god.  Unnnnnnhhhh." Was all Angela could say as I started working on her
sweet tasting little bud.  I had seen the child masturbate.  I knew what
would send her over the edge and I was determined to push her there.  She
reached her hands to my head and shoved me tighter into her.  She was so
tiny that her little box easily fit into my mouth.  I spread her smooth
labia open and roughly licked the inner folds up and down.  I found the
small opening and ran my tongue into it, shoving as deeply as my tongue
would reach.  I began tongue fucking her.  She responded by rocking her
little hips to my rhythm, allowing me to fully reach inside her.  There was
no hymen to get in my way, just the wonderful feel and taste of a child's
pussy.

   I could feel her orgasm coming, taste her juices as they began to flow.
It was time to fuck her, to leave her in the glow of almost cumming,
leaving her pussy open and wet.  I raised up and moved forward, lifting her
short legs to, forcing them back to her shoulders, her tiny twat in perfect
position.  She was as wet as she was going to be.  My cock was as hard as
it was going to be.  I spit on my hand and quickly rubbed it on the cock
head for a little lub.  Ii looked down at the sight of the child's open
pussy and shoved.

   My cockhead buried in her.  I retreated and shoved again.  Still five
inches to go.  More spit on the shaft and I shoved again, this time forcing
three more inches into her.  Six inches in and two remaining.  Could her
little cunt accept my full eight inches?

   Oh the joy of fucking a child with no hymen to break, no yelling and no
pain, no blood to worry about, just the velvet tightness that can't be
explained enough.  It is something that must be experienced.  Slick velvet,
warm and tight, caressing your dick, milking it fully.  There is no
masturbation technique, no fabulous blow job, nothing that can compare to
the feeling of a tight young and willing pussy.  I pulled back and shoved
again.  Angela took my cock in her.  I shoved to the hilt and then some.  I
ground into her tiny pelvis.  I withdrew and shoved again.  I pulled out
completely and looked down to see her tiny cunt wide open for my five inch
girth.  It hit me that I was doing a full insertion fuck of a fifth grader.
I shoved my full hard cock back into her and felt my own orgasm beginning
to build.  I wanted her to cum with me.  I knew her hot buttons.

   "Oh god, wife.  I am going to cum.  I am fucking my beautiful wife and I
am going to cum in her.  I want to give my wife a baby...  UNNNNHHHHH!" I
felt my first jolt of cum as it sprayed inside her.

   "Oh god, oh god, I'm cumming.....UNNNHHHHHHH!  Fuck me, Daddy, fuck me."
The child came with me, exposing her inner demons as she did so.


Ch 3 

"My titties hurt," Angela complained as morning's
light filtered into my flat.  It was our first morning together and I had
ravished her little tits all night.  She lay there naked next to me in bed,
her feet barely reaching my knees.  I looked at her chest, her firm budding
breasts sported the dime size pale nipples of a prepubescent child. 
Surrounding the buds were rings of hickies beginning to turn dark.  Each
little tit was well abused.  I had sucked on them so hard that I, too, was
in pain.  My mouth ached from the sucking I had done on her.  No doubt her
little pussy was in trouble as well.  We had fucked four times during the
night and I had eaten her to several more climaxes.  I had not yet butt
fucked her, nor had I made her suck me.  That would wait until later
tonight.

   "You still my wife?" The child gleamed, smiles spreading from ear to
ear.

   "Yes, my husband.  I am your wife forever." She squirmed in bed.  "You
wanna fuck again?  I ain't never fucked so much in my life." She reached
for my growing cock, taking it lovingly in her little hand.  Instinctively
she leaned forward and took the head into her mouth.  She could barely get
the head in, let alone the first few inches.  Her mouth was warm and wet.
She rolled her tongue around the head and moaned with the joy of having a
dick of her own to love.  My cock grew to full size.  I rolled her between
my legs, positioning her to take maximum cock.  I lifted her hair up behind
her head and took charge of her, one hand on either side of her head.  I
started her on a rhythm, pulling her head back, pushing my cock more deeply
in her mouth with each stroke.  I was anxious to see how much she could
take before I choked her.  I wondered if I could make her puke.  To my
surprise, she took almost all of it before seeming to resist.

   She broke free, saying, "You gonna cum in my mouth, husband?  " "Do you
want me to?"

   "I ain't never let nobody do that.  But you can if you wants." I moved
her mouth back to take on the task of getting me off.  I began mouth
fucking the little girl.  Her technique was advanced, taking my cock in her
hand, keeping it firmly against her mouth, tightly gripping my shaft.  I
never felt her teeth as she sucked.  Her efforts both provided the feel of
a blowjob while adding the pleasure of jerking me off.  Between the two my
orgasm began to grow.  Electric flashes of pleasure gripped my legs, built
in my groin, and may well have stopped my heart as I came.

   "Oh jesus, Take it baby, take it.  Oh god, I'm cumming.  Take Daddy's
cum, baby.  Swallow it, baby, take it all." She kept her rhythm, sucking me
and jacking me at the same time.  The orgasm damned near blew the top of my
head off as I shot loads of cum into her willing young mouth.  She
swallowed quickly, trying desperately to take it all.  I don't think I have
ever cum any more in my life than I did then.  I finished, my dick became
overly sensitive as it always does and she seemed to know that.  She
stopped sucking me and started licking me clean.  She kissed my balls
gently and then crawled up my body, pressing her tender lips to mine.

   "Did that feel good, Daddy?" I smiled.

   "My little girl, am I going to be your husband or do you want me to be
your Daddy?" I did not expect her reaction.  It was as if I had stuck her
with an electric poker.  She jumped back, a look that I could not interpret
came over her.  She was visibly shaken.  "Baby, what's wrong?  What did I
say?  What did I do?" Angela was silent for a moment, she continued to
shake visibly.  She shook her head and turned from me.  For the first time
I actually saw her little butt.  It made me turn pale.  Angela's story had
been withheld, but for the first time I began to understand a little about
her.  Scars crisscrossed her little ass.  It looked as if someone had taken
a knife and played tic tac toe on it.  Many times.  This child had been
abused, physically abused, deeply damaged.  I put two and two together and
came up with nine.  I thought I knew what she had been through.  I would
later learn that I had no idea.

   Time was running short.  I had to get to work on time.  That was part of
my parole criteria.  I needed to know what was going on with Angela but I
had to go as well.  "Baby, I gotta get to work.  I don't have any choice. I
don't know what I said and I don't have time to find out now, but tell
me... will you be here when I get home from work?" She looked up at me.  I
saw the tears welling in her eyes.

   "Do you want me to be here?"

   "Are you my wife?" She paused, biting her little lip.

   "Do you want me to be?"

   "Didn't I prove that last night?"

   "No.  All you did was fuck me a lot.  You never even said that you love
me."

   "Do you love me?" I asked, not wanting to be the first to stop asking
questions.

   "No.  Not yet.  But I might if you love me." I knew what the child
wanted to feel.  Not just love, whatever that is, but comfort and security.

   "Of course I love you, my darling wife."

   "Can we really get married?  I mean with a judge or something.  Ain't it
them that marries people?"

   "Yes, we can.  Just as soon as you are old enough."

   "What if we have a baby.  You could marry me then, couldn't you?" The
thought of trying to marry a 12 or 13 year old pregnant with my baby
sounded a lot like heading back to prison to me.  She looked so damned good
standing there naked, her little tits covered with hickies, her bald young
prepubescent pussy's perfect little slit looking at me.  I wanted to say
anything that satisfied her and fuck her again but time was against me.

   "Wife, I want you with me forever.  But I gotta get dressed and go to
work."

   "No, stay with me.  You can fuck me again, if you want.  I'll suck you
off again.  I'll swallow your cum.; I promise I will." She took hold of my
arm and tried pulling me back to the bed.  I had to pull away from her.

   "Baby, I want to fuck you all day but I can't.  I gotta go to work."
Angela started to cry, a real cry, not something fake.  It was if I was
abandoning her.  "I'm sorry, baby, but I don't have no choice.  I'll
explain it all tonight, OK?  I'll make a quick stop at the grocery store
and pick up something for us to eat then I'll get home as fast as I can."
She grabbed my dick and shoved it in her mouth and began sucking me.  I
pulled her away and felt her teeth scratch the head.  "Ouch," I complained.
Her crying only increased.  "I promised, Angela.  I'll be home before 4:30.
I promise."

   She gathered her strength enough to say, "I'll be here, husband, and
I'll be naked when you get here so you can fuck me right away, OK?"

   "That's good, baby.  I want you to masturbate as many times as you want
today, OK?  I want you to make yourself feel good." I dressed as quickly as
I could, pulled on my shoes, and headed for the door.  I'd have to run to
make it to work on time.  I glanced back as I closed the door and saw
Angela naked for the last time I would see her for awhile.

   She was not there when I got home.


Ch 4

   Angela wasn't there when I got home.  The note she left in her childish
scrawl said she didn't want to cause me any trouble.  I had no idea what
she meant.  I'd expected to find a naked 11 year old waiting for me, ready
to fuck the minute I walked in the door.  Hell, I hadn't even jacked off at
work, wanting to give her all my cum.  I'd only been with her a day but I
felt as if I'd lost the love of my l ife.

   Hurt can turn into anger and it did with me.  In minutes the feeling of
loss had turned into something just south of rage.  I had to find her.  I
had to find out why she abandoned me.  I threw my jacket on and stormed
out. To hell with curfew, to hell with my parole officer.  I was going to
find her and drag her back.

   The first place I went was the stoop I had found her on.  No one was
there, not her, not the boy who she told me about that liked to feel her
up. Nobody.  I rang the doorbell a dozen times and no one came.  I looked
under the stoop where she had told me she slept.  There was a cardboard
refrigerator box.  I looked inside...  a hairbrush and a piece of broken
mirror but no Angela.  I walked around the block.  Nothing.  I stopped kids
on the street and asked if they knew where she was.  A couple of them
cknowledged knowing her but argued they didn't know where she might be.  I
passed several adults but feared asking them, fearful of them asking why
I'd be searching for a child.

   I headed for McDonalds, thinking maybe she had taken money from my
bedside table stash.  I hadn't thought to look there to see if any was
missing.  For a second I thought I saw her flannel shirt but it turned out
to be a guy wearing one, not my Angela.  My Angela.  Sounds funny as I
write it.  Why did I feel she was mine?

   At 8:30 I started heading home.  My curfew was half an hour away and I
was blocks from home.  The last thing I needed was to have Ms.  Carlson
waiting for me.  After stupidly telling her I'd been to McDonalds yesterday
and having just been there again today, I knew I'd better be home by 9.  I
had no urge to go back to prison.  I quickened my pace.  Three blocks from
home and 13 minutes to go I saw her.  She was not alone.

   Walking with another man, Angela held his hand as they walked towards me
on the opposite side of the street.  I stopped dead still.  Had she been
playing a game with me?  Had I been her one night stand?  In the fading
light I couldn't make out her facial features, couldn't read her
expression. I didn't know whether to cross over and confront her or what to
do.

   They walked under a street light and I saw her face.  She was on the
streetside, her forefinger to her lips in a "hush" motion that I didn't
understand.  Was I to keep my distance, not call to her?  The man she was
with was oblivious to me presence and didn't see Angela shake her head at
me.  I felt crushed.  She'd left me for another.  What had I done wrong?

   At exactly nine I reached the door to my building.  Standing there
waiting for me was my parole officer, Ms.  Carlson.  "You cut that one
close, Ralph.  I was just about to declare you a parole violator."

   "No, ma'am.  I am right here where I belong," I said breathlessly.  That
woman always makes me sweat.

   "Well, let's go up and see what we see in your apartment then.  Maybe
there's a reason why you were almost late.  And believe me, if I find any
alcohol or drugs up there you will be spending the next four years back in
prison." She paused.  "I'm going through your computer, too, Ralph.  I find
one picture on it that isn't your freaking Mother and you've had it."

   This was the first time Carlson had done an apartment inspection.  My
head was spinning as we climbed the steps to the third floor.  Had Angela
been there I'd have been a dead man.  Life in prison was the only possible
outcome for a second offender for raping an 11 year old girl.  I opened the
door to a clean, empty apartment.  It struck me that Angela must have
cleaned up the place.  It never looked this good while I had been there
alone.

   Carlson actually seemed impressed.  "Your furnishings are shit.  Where's
your computer?"

   "Yeah, second hand stuff.  I can't afford anything better.  And I don't
have a computer."

   "I don't believe you." She started opening drawers; she looked in my
kitchen cabinets.  She went into the bedroom.  Walking behind her I could
barely keep my eyes off her ass as it swished back and forth.  My small
closet held so few clothes it was easy for her to see that I wasn't hiding
anything in it.  Had I been secreting Angela that would probably have been
where I stashed her.  Carlson opened my bedside table drawer.  "Where'd you
get this money, Ralph?  You selling?" All my money was there.  Angela
hadn't taken it.

   "No, ma'am.  That's what's left of my last paycheck.  I haven't paid my
parole fees yet this month." Carlson looked at me.  She looked up and down.
It dawned on me that she was actually checking me out.  "Sit down, Ralph. I
need some answers here." I didn't know what was going on.  I didn't even
know why she was here and why she was alone in my apartment with me at 9
o'clock at night.  "Why didn't you return my call?  Where were you?  Didn't
you come straight home from work?"

   I was confused.  "Your call?"

   "Yes, you idiot.  I left a voice mail message for you.  I told you I
would be here just before nine.  Didn't you get my message?" It dawned on
me.  Angela had heard her message.  Another woman saying she would be here
tonight.  She didn't want to cause me any trouble.  Another woman was
coming, so she left.  That explained half the problem.  But who was she
with when I saw her?  Another guy because I was with another woman?

   "Ralph, are you paying attention?  I asked you a question." I turned
towards her,finally focusing my thoughts on her.  What I saw filled me with
fear.  She was unbuttoning her blouse, exposing her black bra.  Her
intentions were clear.  I was to have sex with my parole officer.  Oh crap.
what was I in for?  Was this one of those damned if you do, damned if you
don't moments?

   "Come here, Ralph.  I understand your needs.  I've got needs of my own.
You want to pass your inspections, don't you?" All I could do was nod. 
"Then satisfy me." i felt like a marlin must feel when he's swallowed a
lure.  I wanted to fight, I wanted to throw the offending part from my
hooked mouth, but she was reeling me in.

   have I described Carlson?  I think I told you she was hot.  She is. 
She's about 30, give or take a year or two.  She's 5'11", no more than 130
pounds.  Tall and thin just like I like 'em.  She's got tits to die for. 
Long brown hair cut in a "V" in back, brown eyes, and legs that go on for
miles.  I watched as she dropped her plaqin light brown skirt to the floor.
She stood there looking at me wearing a matching black panties and bra set.
My cock responded involuntarily.  Carlson is hot.

   "You want me to fuck you?"

   "What the hell do you think?"

   "But you're my parole officer."

   "Get your pants off, Ralph.  Then start sucking on my tits." She was all
business and a little scary.  I dropped my jeans to the floor and stepped
out of them.  I didn't have on my boxers and my self interested cock
bounced and looked up at her.  She smiled.

   "I thought you might have a good one, Ralph.  now I want to see how well
you can use it." She took off her bra, exposing a set of 36C's that stood
up nicely.  Her areolae were dark brown, the size of a half dollar and her
nipples stood out a half inch.  On a 10 scale, I'd give her body an 8.

   "Why me?  What could you possible want to have sex with me for?"

   "Because I control you, shithead.  I'm in charge.  You don't have any
say, now do you?" She had me, in more ways than one.  "Now suck these
tits." i wasted no time and took the tall woman in my arms and bent down to
engulf her fabulous tits.  I'm not the greatest when it comes to being with
an adult woman.  I prefer kids, but this one was different.  I liked her
being in charge.  My cock could hardlty wait to fill her cunt.

   "That's good, Ralph.  Suck 'em.  Suck 'em hard, Ralph." The bitch arched
her back, pushing her chest into my face.  She moaned, then said, "Hurt me,
Ralph.  Make them hurt." I bit down on her nipple, bit down hard. 
"UNNNNNHHHH, Ralph, oh jesus, of fuck.  harder you son of a bitch.  Make
them bleed." I sank my teeth into the tender flesh of her tit.  the coppery
taste that followed proved that I did exactly as I was told.  i switched to
the other nipple and repeated the process.  I felt her body twitch as she
almost crumpled to the floor.  I knew she had a climax.

   She felt limp for a moment, then commanded me to suck her cunt.  She
called it her pussy.  To me she and it were just cunts.  I pushed her onto
my bed, her legs dangling over the edge, her feet touching the floor.  I
spread her legs and burined my face in her crotch, raking at her black
panties with my teeth.  I pushed her long legs apart to maximize my cunt
licking space.  She tasted like strawberries, a sweet tangy flavor.  I
didn't know if it was her panties or her pussy but the taste was heavenly.
I'd never tasted a better flavor of cunt before.  I started really getting
into it, moaning and biting, sucking and licking.  I reached for the
waistband and yanked down on them..  Carlson lifted her butt to allow me to
remove them.  Her slit was clean shaven and a little puffy.  Her inner
labia was well developed, red, and tender.  Using my thumbs I spread her
open and found the pleasure hole.  I spit on my fingers and shoved two
inside, all the way.  Using my fingers as the plunger, I set to sucking and
nibbling on her half inch clit.  Using a technique called the Lesbain
Lugar, I brought the bitch to a fever pitch.  i stopped.  Stopped abruptly.

   "No, no, you bastard," she yelled at me.  "Don't stop.  I was so fucking
closse." I reached up and slapped her across the face.

   "Shut the fuck up, bitch.  You want to cum then you'll cum when I let
you." My stance surprised her.  Her reply surprised me.

   "Yes, master." She lay still waiting for me to resume, and resume I did.
I buried my face in her strawberry cunt and shoved three fingers deeply
inside her.  In seconds she was back on the roller coaster, ready to plunge
down the first hill.  I stopped.  She squirmed.

   "Please, master, please let me cum," Carlson begged.  I slapped her
again, harder this time.  She fell back to the bed.  The third time I
shoved my hand up her cunt, all four fingers to the hilt, I tried getting
my whole hand inside her but she was too tight.  i roughly sucked her clit,
I nibbled on it, I sucked it, licked it as roughly as I could.  I was
amazed at the volume of her screams as I let her climax.  I've had
screamers before but Carlson was the best.  She thrust her pelvis forward
so quickly and with such force she damned near busted my lip.

   I kept my mouth glued to her cunt as she calmed down, laying my tongue
flat on her slit.  As she physically relaxed her tense body, I gently began
licking her again.  Slowly, gently, deliberately.  I was determined to
bring her to the edge again.

   "Oh god, Ralph, not again, please.  Not again, Ralph.  I can't do
that... unnnh, oh, god.  oh Ralph..." she was already climbing the hill
again.  Her hips gyrted slowly, her hands again pushed my face into her
cunt.  I licked the inner folds of her labia, I kissed her clit, licked it,
sucked it gently to get her motor started in earnest.  I three minutes she
was grunting like the pig she was.  Her cunt lubed like a flowing fountain.
I got to my knees, pushed her legs up.  Took hold of her ankles and pushed
them to her shoulders.  My hard cock was positined perfectly and I shoved
into her.  Her pussy muscles gripped me, held me, sucked me in.  This woman
was an experieced fuck and welcomed the feel of being opened and stretched.
I buried my cock in the whore.

   "No, Ralph.  A condom.  You have to put on a condom." I slapped her
across the face again.  She shut up as I pumped her.  Side to side, pelvic
bone pressing against pelvic bone.  Up and down, in and out.  I fucked her
as I knew how.  She matched my strokes, lifting her ass off the bed on
which I had fucked Angela the night before.  She began to make my cock feel
good.  I felt the tingle that preceeds a climax.

   "I'm going to cum, bitch.  I'm going to cum in you."

   "No, Ralph.  Please.  No, don't cum in me." I pumped harder, deeper if
that's possible.  Hard, long defiant strokes.  I pounded her cunt.

   "UNNNHHHH< Oh god, Ralph, Oh jesus.  Oh god, fuck me, master.  Fuck your
whore." She began her scream again.  I pumped harder, her approaching
climax triggering my own.  I pumped long slow strokes, maximizing my own
sensations.  I came deeply inside her strawberry flavored pussy then
collapsed on top of her.  We lay there for an eternity before she said,
"Get the fuck off me, you son of a bitch." I rolled off to the side and lay
there panting.

   Carlson got up, quickly reaching for her clothes.  She said nothing
until she got to the door.  "Good job, asshole.  Thought you'd be a good
fuck.  I'll be back next month for an inspection.  See that you are here.
And don't fucking be late for your check in.  I'm going to piss test you."
She left.

   Now I had to find Angela.

   My search has gone on for four months now.  She had come into my life
almost carelessly, I knew almost nothing about her.  That she'd been badly
abused was obvious.l The scars on her tiny little ass told tales of intense
physicall abuse.  I never knew the cause, was it a whip, a belt, hell, it
could have been cut by a razor for all I knew.  they were deep and lasting.
Then she was gone and all I had to go by was seeing her walking with
another man.  Had he been her abuser or was he just another guy like me who
had found her?

   He had been easier to find.  I'm no detective but I am persistent.  i'd
walked the streets as often as I felt I could get away with it.  With my
background as a child molester I had to be careful.  Keep away from McD's,
no playgrounds, no parks, no place where a few kids might be, That ruled
out a lot of places I wanted to look.  Then I saw him again.  Drinking
coffee at a bus stop not two blocks from my flat.  I was sure it was him.
My first impulse was to approach him, confront the man who had stolen my
little girl.  i didn't.  I stood behind him so he wouldn't notice me, then
boarded the bus just as the driver began to close the doors.  He was
standing in the crowded bus.  I took hold a few feet from him.

   At Park Street he got off.  I followed.  I checked my watch, 7 o'clock.
Shit.  I had to be home in 2 hours.  How far was he going?  Did he have her
somewhere near here?  It killed me when he crossed the tracks headed for
the outbound trains.  He stopped to buy his ticket.  I fell in behind,
telling the attendant, "Same as him." He punched up a ticket for Ironton, a
village more than 30 miles out in the countrside.  I knew I couldn't get
there and back in time.  I had to break off the pursuit.  Was she even
there?

   Now here I am on a Sunday morning.  The earth smells of hay.  The sun is
trying to break through the clouds above.  What the fuck am I doing here? I
don't know who that guy is, don't know if she's with him, I don't have any
idea where to go from here.  So I start walking.  It's cool and I'm
sweating.  maybe if I had a picture of her, maybe if i even knew a name...
Angela.  That's all I know.  Angela.  I walk north, not sure why.  It's
that I have to do something, right way or wrong way, I have to move.  It's
nearing noon before I have any clue.

   "Hey, fella, you look lost.  Need a ride?" A local in a pick up truck. I
nod and get in.  We spend twenty minutes on bullshit before I finally admit
that's I'm looking for a little girl.  He looks at me funny, as if he knows
something I don't.  "You one of the insiders?" He asks.  I don't know what
he's talking about but I nod.  "Well, hell, why didn't you say so.  I'll
take you over there right now.  I been there a time or two myself." i'm in
total darkness and more than a little uneasy.  We drive down a narrow
country lane, rutted with well worn tracks.  The gate that we turn towards
is open, we drive in.  "Somebody's gonna get iin trouble for leaving that
open." he says with a laugh.  We reach the house.  It's a modest two story
with a few cars sitting in front, city cars, city license plates.  one is
from out of state.  He lets me out, wishing me good luck and disappears
down the drive.  A man appears at the door.  He's carrying a shotgun.

   "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

   "I'm an insider looking to get in." I must have said the right words as
he lowered the weapon and ushered me in, glancing around to see if there
were any eyes watching us.  inside is a modestly furnished room, three
girls sitting on couches, one man standing drinking at a poorly constructed
bar.  A whorehouse.  I've found a whorehouse.  As my eyes adjust to the dim
light I realize that the girls are all young.  Very young, no more than 11
or 12, each wearing heavy makeup and dressed in lingerie and ridiculously
high heels.  One, probably the oldest of the three, stands as I look at
them and walks on wobbily heels over to me.

   "You likes little girls, mister?  You can have me and my sister if'n you
wants.  We do whatever you wants us to do." I look at her.  she's a child
trying to be an adult whore.  Her face is covered in too much makeup,
poorly applied.  Her body is small and thin, her underdeveloped tits barely
making a bulge in the flimsy cheap baby doll top she is wearing.  She
reaches for my crotch and I left her fondle me.  Her cool hand feels good
against my pants.  I am tempted.  My hand wants to reach for her pussy but
I stop.  I see another girl coming down the stair, a man pulling up his
zipper with a grin on him grimy face following her.  She is topless,
wearing only panties.  her bare feet making no sound on the floor as she
descends.  She sees me and freezes, her only motion a slight shaking of her
head as if to silence me.

   "No.  It's her I want." I cross towards her when a large black woman
steps in front of me.  "Tha's fity dollars, mister.  You pays me now and
you do as you sees fit wit her." I take Angela by the hand and we head back
upstairs.

   "You have fun, lttle sister," the man she came sown with shouts.  "You
show him the trick I taught you." he laughs as he heads toward the bar.

   Anglea is all over me, hugging me, kissing me, whispering questions by
the score..  how did you find me..  have you you been looking for me..  do
you still love me...  you know I've been fucked a lot since we fucked... 
is that OK?  Her questions didn't stop until I took her in my arms and
kissed her.

   My hands were all over her.  her little budding tits, her prepubescent
cunt just freshly fucked, I felt the other man's cum in her wet pussy.  I
knew my little angel had just been fucked deeply by another man and it
brought my dick to a raging hard.  My Angela had been working as a cheap
underage prostitute.  No telling how many cocks had buried themselves in
her sweet cunt.  Now my cock could share the feeling, slide easily into the
child's cum lubricated pussy.  I wasted no time in pushing her tiny feet to
her shoulders and plunging into her.  It didn't matter how many cocks she
had taken, her tiny frame had kept her pussy as tight and as wonderful as
it had ever been.  I added my cum to that of the others.  I had found
Angela.

“We have to get out of here, Angela.”
“Ain’t gonna be easy.  I owes them a lot of money.   Passion satisfied, I knew
We somehow could manage it.  
“You got anything here you want to take with  you?”  She shook her head.  I took
Her hand and started looking around – the window.  “We can go out through there.
I’ll climb down, you can jump.  I’ll catch you.”

I awoke with a splitting headache.  I’m not sure how long I had lain in the ditch but 
the sun was setting low.  It had to have been Sunday night, or maybe Monday.  I was 
in deep shit.

Carlson was pissed.  Turned out it was Monday and I missed my curfew.  The next day 
I was back in county jail.  Inside of a week I was back in prison. 

Ch 5 - Angela 8 years later

I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw her.   Still tiny, maybe all of 5'1" tall, 
like a fairy princess with flowing long blond hair, swinging around a brass pole 
nearly naked.  I couldn't believe that such an angel could let masturbating men 
look at her exquisite breasts.  Yet there she was.  I thought I would never see 
her again, but there was my little Angela dancing topless in a rundown, two bit 
titty bar.  

I'd just done a five year stretch as a guest of the State of California and hadn't 
seen her since she was, I don't know, maybe 12?  My P.O.  had it in for me ever 
since I missed that curfew. The ten days I'd spent in hospital had pissed my P.O. 
off royally.  But that doesn't matter here, what happened to me is all bullshit.  

There was my Angela dancing to the heavy bass beat of some song I had heard before.
Angela hadn't visited me in prison, not that I'd expected her to.  Now there she 
was again.
  
Naked for the world to see.  Well, almost naked anyhow.  All she had on was a pair 
of lacy thong panties what barely covered her fabulous little pussy that I had eaten 
so much, fucked so much, worshipped so much when she was 11.   I'd saved her sweet 
ass from a brothel but they'd got her back and damned near killed me for taking her.  


Have you ever seen a woman so beautiful that she scared you?  Wanted to please her 
so badly that your dick wouldn't stay hard?  That was Angela.  In the years since I 
last was with her, she had barely changed.  A little taller, her tits had become even 
more perfect than I had remembered, now maybe a 30C bra would be just about right.  a
She was so tiny.  Her body was almost too perfect, too graceful.  Her legs were no 
longer the pencils they were, but slightly molded, firmer, athletic but still totally 
feminine.  Her perfectly shaped feet, bare and small, ended in pedicured nails, painted 
a light pink.  Her panties barely covered her little pussy, one which I knew was 
cleanly shaved without having to see it, no matter how much I longed to do so.  

Her waist narrowed slightly, her pelvis thrust forward, her pelvic bones prominent as 
she gyrated around the pole, the flashing strobes illuminating her body first one side, 
the other, from below and above.  She flipped off the pole to a full split, her pussy 
inches from the nose of a cigar smoking fat fool at the edge of the stage.  She put her 
hands on his shoulders and pushed herself up, wriggling her ass, inches from his nose.  
He leaned forward to smell her essence.  She laughed and pushed herself up, shoving him 
back to his seat.  She caressed her breasts, her thin fingers pulling on her own nipples, 
pulling them forward, pulling them towards the fat man.  She released them and they 
snapped back on place, a howl coming from the crowd as they rubbed their nasty crotches 
watching her.  

She bent backward, her pussy to the crowd, kicking off to a handstand, her slightly 
bubble butt now the center of everyone's attention as she hand walked to the pole.  
Wrapping her legs around the pole, she pulled herself up, writhing her body upwards so 
her hands grasped its cool metallic strength.  Now erect, she pushed her feet into the 
pole, her perfect ass now in display, the tiny thread of cloth running up to cover her 
asshole barely surviving.  Hanging like that, she reached back and pulled the tiny 
covering to the side to let her admirers see her asshole.  She puckered and unpuckered, 
opening it and letting it close.   The crowd went wild.  Not a man in the place could 
avert his eyes from her anus.  Not a man in the crowd would not have willingly shoved 
his tongue inside her.  

She did a full flip off the pole and stood flat footed in the center of the miserable 
stage and looked at the hungry men before her.  She smiled at each, turning her head 
from on to the next as she began rubbing her pussy.  One man threw a twenty on the 
stage, she nodded at him.  Another, then another.  She nodded at each man who tossed the 
money.  The message was clear.  You want to see my pussy, then pay me.  I'll give you what 
you want, give me what I want.  

Money began piling up before her.  Twenty, maybe thirty guys, each tossing twenties, 
fifties, some offering her hundreds to see her naked.   Angela began gyrating, swaying her 
tiny hips in a full circle, her hand now busily masturbating herself, addicted to the attention.  
The more they yelled, the more money they threw at her, the hotter she became.  Her lacy white 
thong panties seemed almost virginal in their sophistication but now they started coming down.  
She pulled the right side down, making them strain against her body, then the left side.     
She turned, yanking the butt strap out of her ass crack where it had settled, letting the crowd 
of anxious men see that it had been stuck between her cheeks.  Again they howled.   She whipped 
back around, letting her long blond hair spin about her head, covering her face with it as she 
grabbed the front of her panties and ripped the fabric.  Her panties came flying off, flying 
deep into the crowd landing on some fortunate fellow's face where he quite probably ate them, 
I didn't see.  

Angela was naked.  Her feet bare, her cunt on view for everyone to see, her perfect little breasts 
glistening with sweat from the hot lights on her tiny body.  She stood stone still for what seemed 
like an eternity before she began to grind.  Her stance that of a fighter, her feet planted more 
than shoulder width apart, her knees outward, her pelvis thrust forward so everyone could see her 
pussy, Angela was in charge.  No person there knew how many men had put their hard cocks in that 
little cunt; no one there had any inkling that she had lost her virginity as a child.  All that 
consumed them was the then present desire to have her.  Then and now.  To leap up on stage and 
devour what was before their greedy eyes.  
She whirled about, bent down, pushed her head between her legs to look at them.  She reached back 
and spread her cheeks open so they could look up inside her ass.  Again she puckered her little butt, 
let it relax and puckered it again.  Her anal sphincter winked at the men.  The she moved her fingers 
to her cunt, letting one finger slip inside.  Angela could feel her sexual juices as they slowly ran 
down her legs.   The truth is that she would have willingly taken on every man in the place.  Had 
they known it would have been a stampede.

"Give it up for Roxy!" shouted the MC as he stepped from behind the curtain, his bright red blazer 
and matching silk scarf looking totally out of place for such a dump.    "Give her a big hand.  She 
deserves it."  More money floated to the stage.  Angela stooped, grabbed every last bill, did one 
last twirl around the pole, and disappeared behind the curtain.   The howling continued another minute, 
Angela did one last nude curtain call, facing the curtain, she bent forward again and butt winked at 
the crowd.  Then she was gone.

I knew I had to find her again.  This time would be easier.  All I had to do was go backstage.