Soft featherlike kisses trail gently down my neck and collar bone as soft breathing stirs my soul. Shivers and slight goose bumps arise and take notice to the brisk night air. I can't breath and my hands feel sweaty. I'm nervous and that in itself is a rarity. I, Angelica Pickles, am a confident young woman. I strut my stuff down the walk-way like it's a cat-walk in Paris; displaying attitude and confidence to all so they will remember my name, poise, and grace. I am never caught without my attitude worn on my shoulders. I am never caught without my divine aura of fabulosity and superiority surrounding me. Tonight, however, I am forced to be without it. My parents are gone, his parents are gone, and we are all alone in his room…lights dimmed as soft sounds from Art of Noise dance around us in soft, even, gentle melodies. I can feel my heart beat in my ears as warm pools of blood rush to my cheeks. I am nervous like I was the very first time.


She smells of Jasmine and Honeysuckle flowers, soft aromas that dampen her skin send confusion and disorientation to my mind. She is my vice and I am not too proud to admit it to anyone who asks. Her movements can make even my most intelligent thoughts turn dumb with a single turn of her dainty wrists. Her smile and soft laughs can make my intellect drop down to resemble one of a three year old in a matter of seconds. Her soft kisses cause me to give into her deepest desires without thought but acts on impulse. Her voice is the siren song I obediently act upon when commanded. She's everything my father said was not a good quality in a woman. She's everything he said stay away from. She's everything forbidden that I wish to touch and explore.


A soft moan escapes my lips as his skilled hands travel down lower into familiar territory, my legs spreading wider to give him better access to his temptation by instinct as well as inclination. I can feel him grin from amusement as well as contentment as a small deep chuckle rushes from his orifice. I want to silence him with a fierce kiss, a simple gesture to convince him that I am and always will be in charge, but I dare not move. I can't move. This is always the time I can never make myself move. We have done this countless of times since our first but, for an odd reason, each time we get this far, I clam up like a scared little virgin. He's seen what my body has to offer. He's seen every crevice and curve I possess beneath the sheaths of clothing. He's even seen my most intimate parts that I always used to blush at when I heard its proper term. He knows me inside and out. He plays me like a violin, knowing the pressure points as well as the pleasure ones. I'm his tool to use and hold however he sees fit. Each and every touch he puts upon me is agonizing torture I wish I could surpass. I'm the canvas and he's the painter, each stroke of the brush the equivalent to a single mark that spells out his name upon my being. He owns me and each time he takes me, he never forgets it.


She gasps my name as I slowly enter her with ease and concentration. It's a newfound pleasure we both are experiencing for the first time since our deflowering of one another. There is no barrier to sentinel even the slightest bit of intense gratification that she and I feel, so no precautions or brief pauses for assurance will be needed. She got on the pill three months ago as an effort to lessen the severity of her monthly cycles and give surety that no other protection was needed. I trust her and take her word as if it were one of the Ten Commandments, my daring and abnormal audacity to go raw proving it. It feels heavenly and I feel weak just by being within these walls. This feeling is the very epitome for which I live for.

"Chuckie…" her soft voice coos slowly as it becomes drowned out by the bass of Moments in Love.

I know what she desires. I want to give it to her. "Hold on Angelica."

I silence her whimpers with a small chaste kiss, beginning to move in and out of her searing heat with untouchable precision and concentration a master crafts-man couldn't even touch.


My head is spinning and my thoughts are incoherrent. I can't think straight, let alone breath in a normal pattern. This state of true eternal bliss has taken hold of me like it did my very first time. I can't speak, only soft whispers and cries of love and ecstasy can fall from my lips. I can't think, my mind has shut down due to abnormal amounts of pleasure even I can't withstand. I can't even blink, my eyes are steadily locked in sync with his as he does most of the movements that make this act of intamacy what it is. A single sweat drop falls from his forehead unto my abdomen. My only instict is to remove myself from these tosseled sheets and kiss him with severity and passion I never knew I had.


Her kiss was fueled with fire and desire I never would have thought she could surface. Her very soul was its main componet and her love for me was its energy. I would have stopped my movements if I hadn't known the gesture was a tactic to urge me on to continue the personal symphony I played on her body. She wanted, no, needed this. As did I.

The trumphets and piano became one in the soft melodies of Moments In Love. Their sounds intertwined together to create a whole new feeling of tranquil bliss that could easily distort the mind while soothing the soul. Angelica's soft moans became the vocals to such music as I explored deeper into her sweet flower, her pitch and tone becoming home with the soft sounds of the smooth jazz record playing in the background. Nothing could be heard but simple music. No obscenity was taking place behind closed doors. I was conducting a trivial number I played before in numerous ways. I go up, and her voice trails higher than one of an opera's coloratura. I go down and her voice follows suit to resemble the one of a soprano. I play her with exact accuracy that results in harmonious notes to fill the void of the voice-less number around us.


I love this part. It's nearing. That sweet pulsation the resides inbetween my thighs that connect us as one. His movements increase in speed and agility when he feels that peak become more abtract than illusional, my legs becoming hooked around his waist as we ride the waves together. I can feel it coming, rushing, racing to fill us as more speed is added to bring us home. My voice is at his highest, his groans are now more frequent. More sweat falls and I can feel him stiffen. I can touch it...reach it...that unexplainable feeling of an orgasm. A few more minutes...seconds...moments...

A piercing scream flooded the room as a ray of light shone brightly upon our beings. I can only rely on carnal instinct and begin to sheild myself with the nesrest thing from those dying eyes that I come to recognize. Kimmi.


"Kimmi, get the hell out of here!"

She fakes the water works as she flicks on the light switch next to her. The song has ended, the lights are now on, and my orgasm is now completely forgotten. It's safe to say I'm pissed.


"Angelica and Chuckie!? I didn't believe you. I didn't want to. BUT GOD! AH! TOMMY, PHIL, LIL...COME QUICK!"

"NO!" But it was too late, the gang had already come.


"NOT MY COUSIN!" and then he hit the floor with a loud thud that even I felt. I think Tommy fell unconcious and that can't be good.


"SEE WHAT YOU DID?" Kimmi shouted out with a pointed finger aimed right in my face. "You killed Tommy."

"ME!?" How could she blame that on me!? "You called them in here! NOW GET THE HELL OUT!"

"Chuckie!" Kimmi did her melodramatic poses as she made her way to my bed, falling on it as if she had fainted with a look of pure terror embedded upon her face. "You were...were...were...OH MY GOD! I CAN'T SAY IT!"

"Get the fuck out Kimmi!" Angelica growled with malicious initiatives. It was enough to even make me jump.

"Angelica" Kimmi stopped the dramatics momentarily to hug the sweaty blonde, running a single hand through her unruly mane. It made Angelica cringe at the very touch, making me stiffle a small chuckle. "Please, whatever you do, name your child Kimmi. With an "E""


Now, I can see Phil through the corner of my eyes standing in the doorway with a smirk on his face, Lil next to him speechless and appauld. " a bed...SWEET!"


" tapped that, huh?" he did some obscene gesture that resembled something of spanking a woman's rear, "Sweet. Was it good?"

"NO!" and here comes the out of character Tommy. back from the dead. "MY COUSIN. HE SLEPT WITH MY COUSIN. NO!"

"We're family now Tommy!" Kimmi grinned and jumped out of the bed to run into the arms of the violet haired boy. "We might even get to have neices and nephews, cousins or...whatever."



"Fuck off."

A/N: Here is Jose's story. For you Jose. Thanks for the picture. I loved it.

Thanks to all the fans anf lovers of this couple. Much love.