The Landlord's Protégé Pt. 02

She cried a lot and Victor was not embarrassed but patiently allowed her to revisit her grief again and again and her acute sense of having been cheated out of their life together. He often held her in his arms as she sobbed, and she told him she felt comforted.

It was on the seventh day that Victor spoke his own thoughts about her life, her feelings and her bereavement. He had listened and supported her, but felt that he could now push her a little.

"Angela," he ventured as she came to the end of another reminiscence about Neill, "It's only six months since he died. What you are doing now is good. When you go home, warn your friends that you will be working through your grief by boring them with your stories about Neill, and then bore them! It will take quite a time for you to work through it.

"This empty feeling will be with you for a long time, but believe me it will become less and less intense. There will always be a gap in your life into which Neill should have fitted, but you will be able to concentrate on the good times you had together.

"If you want advice, be very careful about getting into another relationship with anyone for at least another year. Don't fall in love with someone while you still feel so unhappy, it will probably lead to disaster. Rely on friends, but don't get serious. If someone you fancy wants to get serious, explain the situation and cool it.

"You'll know when you're able to start living your life again. Remember, life is all about letting go. I had to let go of good mates who were killed in the army and I have to let go of my sister.

"You will be able to let Neill go in time, though you will always love him. You have talked about your religious beliefs. So you know that he has moved on. Perhaps after death the dead person has to go through a grieving process as well, before they can let go and move on.

"Angela, take your time. Don't rush things."

Angela nodded. "Will you give me your address; phone number? I think I'll need you in the coming months."

"Of course. I'd be honoured."

On the eighth night, as they came to say goodnight once again outside Victor's room, things changed. Over the days they had said goodnight at the same place -- Victor's door -- and for some nights Angela had kissed his cheek and he hers.

On the eighth night they had been for a long, very wet hike locally and were both very tired. They simply smiled with satisfaction at one another, and Angela took both his hands in both of hers and pulled him closer.

They kissed on the lips. It was brief and very tender. Then Victor leaned forward and kissed her again. It was not so brief, but it was again very tender, and very, very gentle.

They hugged each other, and Angela whispered, "Tomorrow is my wedding anniversary. I needed that kiss."

Victor said nothing, but hugged her again and kissed her once more. They both smiled warmly as Angela walked away, looking over her shoulder with great fondness, and he stood as if bereft until she had entered her room and was out of sight, when he unlocked his own door and went to bed.

Victor was up early the next morning, and had driven to the village and back before breakfast. He was sitting at 'their' table when she came down for breakfast. In her place there was an envelope. Nothing was said as she opened it. It was a card with flowers on the outside and Victor's handwriting on the inside.

Love letting go. Slowly. Having loved well we never forget. I wish the best for you. In time.

It was signed, Love, Victor.

The tears came freely, but she smiled though them at him, and he thought he saw real affection for him in her eyes.

"I'm not crying for Neil, I'm crying because you are so thoughtful."

At lunch, after a gentle drive round the coast road, Angela broke the silence.

"I'm still thinking about your card and what you wrote, Victor. It repeats what you said the day before yesterday when you suggested it might not be time to move on, and of course you're right.

"I'm going back home tomorrow. I can face things now, and there is someone who's been hovering in the background waiting for me to finish grieving. He's not made a move, but he was my first boyfriend. We were too young then, but now he might support me without getting too intense..."

Her voice trailed off and she smiled.

"And he hasn't been thinking with his prick?" Victor asked mischievously.

Angela punched his arm. "You'll not let me forget that, will you? But now you've mentioned it, I want to ask you something."

"Ask away."

"I'm embarrassed to ask this, but tonight... Will you stay with me? I need you tonight on this day of all days. Does that sound silly?"

"No. Of course I'll do whatever you want me to."

"Victor let's be clear. I want to sleep with you."

Victor put his arm round her and she leaned into him. Then they kissed as gently as the night before but at much greater length.

When they disengaged, Victor asked, "You don't have to make love, you know. You can just snuggle up. I don't want you to feel you have to--"

"Victor," she interrupted, "I'm a young woman and I've not had sex for six months. If we go to bed together, it'll be as friends, but I rather think I'll want more than hugs and cuddles."

"Angela, I'm a man. I'll be delighted to go as far as you want! And I'm thinking with my upper brain here!"

She rolled her eyes, they laughed and it was settled.

Victor had told Bridget about Angela's bereavement and her anniversary, and when they came down to dinner, their table was laid with a white linen cloth and napkins, silver cutlery, flowers and a candle. There was a card from Bridget and James. It was a sympathy card. Angela, needless to say, burst into tears, but was smiling through it. The young couple came over and said how sorry they were, and Angela told them to appreciate and care for each other when the honeymoon was over.

"You don't know what fate has in store for you," she added.

The dinner was superb and they ate in relative silence. Angela was alone with her thoughts and Victor knew better than to interrupt her.

She in her turn was grateful for his thoughtfulness, and spent the time remembering the wedding and how happy they were. A few tears were gently shed, but she felt at peace in a way she hadn't since the accident.

The meal over, it was their usual practice to retire to the bar, but this time, without a word spoken, they went straight upstairs and to Angela's room.

Inside the door they faced each other, gazing into each other's eyes. Then Victor leaned forward and his lips touched hers. Immediately she took a step into his arms and kissed his lips, moving hers over his until they opened and touched tongues.

Her arms went around his neck and his took her waist and gently pulled her close. They relished the feeling of each other's bodies, Victor felt her breasts pushing into his chest and she felt him growing against her stomach.

Then Angela pulled away.

"Must visit the bathroom," she whispered and ran lightly into that room, closing the door behind her. Victor went and sat on the bed, and waited.

When the door opened he looked up to see Angela emerging.

His mouth dropped open as he saw her. She had taken off her dress and stood all in white. The semi-transparent bra cupped the gentle swell of her breasts, a matching suspender belt held up her white stockings, and over her sex were the flimsiest of sheer white French knickers. Around her shoulders hung a negligée of transparent white lace. It flowed over her curves to her knees and was open at the front.

She stood shyly in the doorway with a questioning look on her face.

"It's what I wore for Neill on our wedding night," she whispered.

A smile broke over Victor face.

"You look so very beautiful, my darling," He murmured, and he beckoned her to come to him.

She came to a stop at arm's length. "Please undress, Victor."

"Me or you?" he said playfully.

"Yourself first," she giggled, "then you can do what you like with me."

Staring cheekily into her eyes, he discarded his jacket allowing it to fall to the floor, followed by his shirt. He watched as her eyes roved over his torso, and saw her secret smile.

He was very fit and it showed. He sat and removed his shoes and socks, gazing up into her eyes as he did so, then he stood and undid his trousers, pushing them with his boxers to his knees, so they fell to his ankles. He stepped out of them and was naked for her inspection. She scanned his muscled calves and thighs, then her eyes darted to his erect penis and she looked into his eyes with a shy smile.

"Will I do?" he asked with a loving grin.

"Oh, yes!" she exclaimed. "It's quite thick, isn't it?"

He nodded and took a step forward and she felt him against her naked stomach. She shivered and snaked her arms around his neck. Immediately he lifted her, feather-light in his arms and laid her so gently on the bed, her legs dangling over the edge. She looked puzzled and made as if to climb further onto the bed, but his hand on her thigh stopped her.

"Aren't you going to take me?" she asked with a worried frown.

"All in good time," he smiled. "This is your night, so you can give the orders later, but let me do this first."

At that he reached forward and hooked his fingers into each side of her wispy knickers, and gently and very slowly pulled them down over her thighs, her knees and her calves until they were in his hands. He laid them on the bed and then knelt on the floor with her legs on his shoulders. He gently pulled her forward so that he could reach her sex with his mouth and, began to make love to her sex.

Up to this point she had been resting on her arms wondering what he was going to do, but now she lay right back and revelled in the sensations he was giving her. He orchestrated his fingers, tongue and lips to play her, making sure she came close, but denying her any release.

Her moans took on a pleading note, and her hips gyrated to get his mouth or fingers to release her, but he would not allow it. Her hands moved down to her thighs and stroked them and her stomach as if to release her from her frustration.

At length the words he had been waiting for were uttered. "Victor, please! Please! Oh, you're killing me! Don't tease me! Please!"

He plunged two fingers into her and at the same time drew his tongue over her nub.

She came. An understatement. She blew. Her cries were loud and strident from her constricted throat, and her whole being convulsed again and again, her arms flew wildly up into the air, her head thrashed from side to side, her back arching and releasing, her knees rising and her thighs trapping his head as they scissored together.

He exulted in the sense of power that came from the intensity of her orgasm and the ratification of his own expertise, and he bathed in the exhilaration of giving her such satisfaction in her need.

Victor continued to pleasure her body until her twitches gradually became less intense and he measured his pressure on her sensitive button to the fall from her pleasure peak, until she lay still.

After her cries of deliverance, which had deteriorated into moans and whimpers, came silence. Only then did he stand and scoop her limp and satiated body to lay it on the bed, her head on the pillow.

He moved up over her body, leaning on his hands, straight-armed, so he could look into her eyes. They had a look of total surprise and wonder. She was trying to speak but there was no sound.

He stopped her mouth with a deep kiss, and he felt her surprise as she tasted herself on his lips. As his lips left hers, she sighed deeply, and gave up a smile of completion.

She lay fully open on the bed and he crawled next to her. She came into the crook of his arm, kissing the side of his chest as she did so, moving one leg between his. Thus entwined, they rested a while. There was no hurry; they had all night.

At length she stirred. "That was... I've never... amazing!"

Another pause. Victor said nothing, but hugged her to him.

"Victor."

"Yes?"

"Make love to me, Victor -- have your pleasure now."

She reached between them and felt him growing again at her words. He had felt contented -- a peace that came from a job well done, but her words stoked his desire for her, to be deep within her body, to achieve his own release there.

"I'd like that." Victor said, smiling at his understatement and between them they dispensed with the remainder of her clothing, the stockings remaining. Then he moved over her.

"Go gently," she whispered, "It's been months, and you've got a thick one."

When a beautiful woman gives a compliment about size or thickness in a perfectly offhand way, even a mature ex-soldier feels pride at her admiration, and his masculinity is delightfully affirmed and further hardened and thickened!

"Don't worry, I will be careful!" he laughed and pressed into her, feeling the tightness of her, though she was so slippery that it caused her no distress, quite the contrary in fact, as her moans of pleasure at the stretching attested.

Once Victor was fully in her he stopped and the two gazed at each other. Then she twitched and it was the signal for Victor to move. They continued to stare into each other's eyes.

Their stares reflected their concentration on the sensations flooding them, as Victor moved slowly and deliberately, and she raised and lowered her hips in time. Imperceptibly the pace increased, his thrusting becoming more intense, she giving as good as she got. Their moans and grunts got louder as they neared resolution, the bed groaning, creaking and complaining at the frenzy going on above its happily abused springs.

Suddenly Angela began to slap his bottom with her hands in time to their hammering bodies and she cried out "Oh God yes!" and he felt her throbbing around him and he erupted into her with wordless guttural groans.

"Oh, God," she exclaimed beneath him as his thrusting weakened and slowed, "that was something else! You... Another! Again! Superman!"

Victor felt smug and thoroughly satisfied. It had been a long time since he'd been in a woman, and this one had been much more responsive than most.

"Well," he said, as he rolled off her and offered her a handful of tissues to staunch the leakage so they should not have to sleep in a wet spot. "You are the most sexy sensuous and responsive woman. I feel privileged."

"I'm glad I asked you to my bed. I'm sure Neill would approve. You've shown me I can go on. I'll always remember him and how wonderful he was, but you've shown me there are more wonderful men in the world. You would be easy to fall in love with, Victor."

"And you also, Angela. You deserve a full and loving life, and I'm sure you'll get it one day."

"I won't be in too much of a hurry."

"Good."

"Victor," she implored, "You will stay with me tonight? I want to wake up with you."

"Yes, of course."

She made comfortable noises as she settled once more into his arms and in no time she was asleep. Victor remained awake and wondered why he felt a little guilty. He knew he would miss this pretty young woman, but was satisfied he'd helped her.

----

Chapter Ten

Victor awoke early. When they went to sleep they were entwined, now they had their backs to each other. Victor carefully turned over and looked over her shoulder at her pretty face and the swell of her breasts. Then he lay back and let his thoughts wander.

The night with Angela had meant so much more than the nights he had spent with other women, when all he wanted was sexual relief, a warm sexy body and some spurious 'loving', and, he admitted to himself, this was not usually what most of the women in question wanted; they were usually looking for more. However, this time with Angela it had been love-making for real, without an agenda. It set him thinking.

What had he to show for his life so far? He had money; he had property. He worked for the defence of the country and its people, often in some danger. He looked after the people in the flats, but now that Maureen had died he had no family left. Not even any cousins that he knew of. He was truly alone.

And Maureen? What was there left of her life? Like him she had had no children, no husband or partner, and after he was gone, no one to even remember that she lived at all. Her relationships, like his, had been transient and usually short lived.

Her memory would soon fade in the minds of the friends who had been at the funeral. He had loved her, his sister. She had been all he had of family, and he had been all there was of family for her.

He thought of Susan and her two young ones. He realised he wanted children of his own -- someone to love him and for him to love in his turn, and for a wife -- again someone to love; to commit his life to. A family to remember him when he was gone.

He thought back to Lorraine and wondered what she was doing now and with whom. He had loved her -- foolishly really -- it had been sexual desire for her beautiful body, though he did commit to her, but as she said, he was not right for her.

He fleetingly thought of Susan as his partner in life -- his wife -- but dismissed the idea as ludicrous. The age gap was too large, and she still had a thing for that Seth. Seth had a magnetism she clearly needed.

He wondered if she had left the flat to be with Seth, and he now regretted getting him evicted. All Seth had done was to protect Susan, his loved one, though how much of a loved one she was, was problematical given that he had left her in the lurch.

Life was passing him by. The army had taken part of it. He had never felt able to saddle a woman with the long months when he was away, nor the uncertainty as to whether he would ever return. His life had been extremely dangerous and still was on occasion.

Now he was getting set in his ways, though he had not noticed feeling lonely, but after the night with Angela he wondered if he had simply got used to the feeling and it had become normal for him.

No one got everything they wanted out of life, he philosophised. Those who had a succession of lovers missed out on the depth of companionship long relationships gave; those who married gave up the variety of a number of partners.

Those without children were free to travel the world and to experience all it had to offer, but missed the love of a child for its parent, and parents gave up the variety of the world for the depth of the love of family.

On the other hand parents had troubles when children became teenagers what with the shouting and slamming of doors -- he remembered his own teenage years, and why he had gone into the army to get free of his own oppressive parents as he saw them then.

Other families had brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts and cousins. Many remained close after their teenage years. Many parents managed those years well and did not alienate their offspring, but his parents, though marrying late, had in many ways been only children themselves.

He did not remember any of his grandparents because of his parents had marrying late, and by the time he came along all his grandparents were dead. He regretted now not returning to his parents. It was not their fault they had no one to advise them. It was too late now, they were dead.

He felt despondent. Life was slipping away -- his sister, younger than him, had gone already. How long might he have left?

His reverie was ended when Angela began to stir. Victor immediately enfolded her in his arms and she smiled beatifically as she turned towards him.

"Good morning!" he whispered, and she smiled more widely and snuggled into his arms. His penis reacted appropriately and she felt it.

"Once more?" she queried with a coquettish grin.

Victor made no answer but lay back, pulling her over him. She raised herself over him before sinking down with a groan of pleasure. Victor gave attention to her breasts, cupping and tweaking her nipples, causing her movements to speed up until she was bouncing rapidly on him. She sat upright and as her orgasm took her she threw her head back and cried out.