The Black Widow

The chemistry between Michael and Angela was electrifying. Michael couldn’t care less about the neighbours in the elevator; he held Angela up with his right arm – hand firmly gasping her tush – her legs wrapped around his waist - while his left hand pressed into the arch of her back, bringing her closer (if even possible) while they violently sucked, kissed and breathed each other in.

It took them a good twenty minutes to unlock the apartment door. Michael was so distracted that he just couldn’t identify the right key – you see, in order to identify the key, he’d have to look at it.

Once inside, Angela grabbed Michael’s tee shirt at the neck and split it in two, apparently effortlessly ripping it from his body. It was one of Michael’s favourite shirts, but this was hot. He made a mental note to frame what was left of it.

Michael grabbed a fist full of Angela’s hair and pulled her in, kissing her hard, so that she knew what he meant. She bit his lip, softly, but hard enough to make him pause. She stepped back, looked him in the eye, and started to undress. She was exquisite. Angela had long pitch black hair, pale porcelain skin, big blue eyes and pouty lips with healthy flush to them. It was these very same striking features that had caught Michael’s eye just hours before at the bar. He knew then that he wanted to strip her down and have his way with her. But once there, faced with Angela’s naked body, something happened to Michael - it felt a lot like falling in love. Angela was tall and slender, yet “womanly”. She stepped forward, loosened his jeans and gave him a teasing lick before she turned away and headed for his bedroom. Michael followed, naturally.

With her back toward him, Michael stepped closer. He swept her long black hair over her left shoulder, so that he could kiss the right. Angela’s skin was soft and smooth. She smelled sweet and spicy. The combination made his heart race. He traced his fingers down her spine till he reached the small of her back, moving to the side he took a firm hold of her hip, his right hand still holding her right shoulder where he slowly moved his mouth across her delicate skin.  

Angela moved forward, steadying herself into a crawl onto the bed. The curtains weren’t drawn, and through the moonlight Michael noticed large angel wings tattooed on Angela’s back. They started on her shoulder blades and spread across her back, tipping at her hips. Michael wasn’t the tattoo loving type, but on Angela, it was almost expected and added a lot more “naughty” to his experience.

Michael grabbed Angela’s ankle and pulled her back down toward him. She turned on her back, inviting him in. Her kiss was hot, her lips were sweet. Soon he was lost in her spell. The passion was intense, erotic. She’d taken over – a total dominatrix. She was on top, the sweat on her body glistening in the moonlight. Michael was about to – you know – when out of the blue, Angela’s tattoo lifted off of her back and spread across the room, wings spanning from wall to wall. Caught up in the moment, biting on her lower lip and eyes closed, Angela dug her nails into Michael’s chest and ripped into him. Michael let out a shout, but the sight of her majestic wings coupled by the violence only intensified his climax.

They were both spent, sated, dripping in sweat. Angela leaned forward, brushing past Michael’s lips with her own and stopping at his ear. She wanted to say something. He was waiting for it. She was waiting for it. But then she moved back to his mouth, and gave him one final kiss.

Pushing herself up, Angela smoothed her hands over Michael’s face, coming to a rest with both palms over his temples. It was just then, that Michael started to come out of the trance, but before he could speak, a bright light burst from Angela’s palms through Michael’s temples. With nowhere to go, the light came bursting through his eyes, nose and mouth, burning away the sockets and leaving four ashy holes in his head, as black as coal.

Angela got up and walked over to the window. After taking a moment to stare at the night sky, she drew the curtains closed and walked over the en-suite bathroom. Angela flipped the light switch on and came to a standstill in front of the full length mirror. When confronted with her naked reflection, Angela turned her body to analyse her side profile. She lifted her hands and rested them on her belly. She felt movement. Angela smiled.

She rinsed the ash from her hands before changing back into her clothes and leaving Michael’s apartment. In 9 month’s time, Angela would be a proud mommy. She could only hope that her daughter would inherit some of her father’s feisty spirit.