Silver Lake Angel

Story Info
Romance leads to indulgence when a strange man arrives.
19.6k words
4.56
36.4k
26
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
Odeon
Odeon
1,020 Followers

Cuthbert's restaurant hid on a tiny street near the Riviera county club, where the entire block thrived under a canopy of red maple leaves succumbing to the early fall. A wind picked up that evening, but the leaves still had enough guts to hold on and stain the evening light a brilliant crimson, inviting Kim to breathe deeply and flow lightly up the path to the restaurant, with her arms appearing to drag behind in the wind.

Prospects of an early fall had initially depressed her, since she wouldn't be returning to U.C. Davis in San Diego as planned. With two years still to go on a journalism degree, she found herself unable to cover the living expenses and having to take a year off to stay with her dad and work. In a way it felt like her life went on hold, and she'd never been a very patient person. Then she met Avery that Spring and quickly fell in love that Summer. In fact, as of two weeks ago they'd been living together in his new Silver Lake condo. It was a beautiful two story unit, and it all seemed so spontaneous and perfect.

The condo offered only two slots for parking, and to make a spot for her Chevy Caprice, Avery unloaded his Scion TC for six-grand over Craig's list earlier that week, and that meant celebrating with a pricey dinner at Cuthbert's followed by drinks at Valentine's. He always had money and gestured to pay, but Kim was a real stickler about splitting expenses. Thankfully, the easy six-grand made a great excuse for her to say fuck-all to her principals and let her boyfriend pamper her for once, and as shallow as it sounds, their extravagant evening helped her forget all about San Diego and her college degree.

She'd slipped on a tight grey dress for the occasion, which ended above the knees and clung to every move she made. If anyone paid attention, and they had, the lack of panties or a bra was clearly evident in the occasional jiggle of her modest chest, and the way the material flowed flawlessly along the natural curve of her lower back and out and over her derriere. On a fuller figure it might have been too much, but on her it seemed a stylish choice.

Catching her passing profile in the large front window of Cuthbert's, she had to admit her wonderful tight ass was the bomb. The grey fabric had the characteristic of lightening towards a copper when stretched, accentuating its volume all the more. Where her boobs blossomed in the front, the same grey fabric expanded just enough for the color to appear burnished away, especially where her tiny nipples softly poked through. The grey of it also made her white skin appear more colorful––even a little pink in her face––and that ignited her steel-blue eyes.

When they stepped through the Victorian doors of Cuthbert's, she was stunned, horrified, and a little amused. Avery hadn't just taken her out for an expensive meal––he'd taken her totheexpensive meal. They were the youngest by at least ten years, and the male attire ranged from suit and tie to suit and tie, while the ladies were draped in simple designer statements that looked pricey to say the least. As she scrutinized the room she could hear the stiff conservative babble and thought she'd just discovered where millionaires celebrate their anniversaries.

And if Kim's sexy little number wasn't embarrassingly out of place at Cuthbert's, Avery's loud-ass attire was. He'd worn a red, Asian-patterned, silk smoking jacket with a black lining. Under it, his trade mark county style shirt and bolo tie. His plain black slacks were fine, but peeking out of the bottom were Ali Boulala, leopard-print, skater shoes, and they really were a scream. It was a fabulously fun and tacky get up, yet inside Cuthbert's it just seemed tacky. But she'd come to expect this kind of thing from Avery, and loved it, so she grabbed her crazy man's arm with pride, and followed the hostess to their seats.

Avery typically knew her as a tee-shirt and jeans girl, and after sitting down to eat, she felt his eyes travel her knockout figure through every course of the meal, as well as the those of their beef-cake blonde waiter. Avery had made it clear the dress was his favorite, and just for him she'd used a tad bit of eyeliner and shadow, and a dusty rose lipstick, something she hadn't repeated since their first few dates eight months ago. And her loose, caramel, suede boots––dear god, she'd hadn't worn those in over three years!

She slowly became aware that all the stuffy men in the room must have had a pulse, because she was getting stares, and they weren't appalled stairs, they were the meet-me-later kind. She'd grown a little self conscious by the time food arrived, and couldn't take more than a few bites of her Portabella Linguine, despite the fact that it tasted and smelled of heaven. By the end of dinner, and after drinking half bottle of wine, however, she'd grown comfortable being the sultry center of attention––in fact, it became a bit of a turn on, and she wondered why she'd deprived herself of looking so good when it left her feeling so warm and alive inside.

After dessert, Avery started to say something, but his mouth froze on the first syllable, and bent into an 'oops' of a smile.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Oh no you don't."

"It really isn't anything."

"Bullcrap! It's always the things you wanna say but don't that truly mean the most."

"What wasthat?" Then, with a slight country twang in his voice, "Mama always said, 'It's those things you wanna say but don't that truly mean the most."

He'd always do that––pick on her for sounding like a mother giving advice to a twelve year old. Admittedly she had a bad habit of doing it, but only because she hadn't heard from her mother in thirteen years, not since Kim was nine, not since a drunk driver took her from Kim, and she adored what little of her mother's sagely advice she could still recall.

"Ha ha, funny guy, but now you'd better come clean! What's on your mind?"

"Yeah... Well OK then––who in the room would you do?"

Oh god, he wasn't going to play that game on their classy night out, was he? Now she was sorry she'd pressed him. "I can't believe you."

"Come on, we're around money, one of these guys could pamper you for the rest of your life, so who would be the lucky guy?"

"Unbelievable. I haven't even forgiven you for the pictures, and now you are going to ruin our evening with games?"

"Not the pictures again! When did you turn so uptight, anyway?"

He still didn't understand why she was mad about that, and she was growing convinced he never would. It happened the day after she'd moved into his condo. She opened his laptop to check her email, and after launching the minimized browser she got the shock of a lifetime as the window revealed a page of full-on hardcore porn. Nothing outrageous, just a young girl getting thoroughly worked over by two guys, but the shocking part––the girl in the image could've easily been mistaken for Kim! She called to Avery, who'd obviously closed the computer in panic and left the room when he heard her coming.

He waltzed back in as if nothing was wrong, then looked at the laptop in front of her and slapped his hands to his cheek, poorly acting surprised. "Wow, Kim, you checkin' out some porn? Let me get in on some of that." He then pulled up a chair and dropped down beside her. She gave him the evil-eye for as long as she could, and then they both burst out laughing at the awkwardness the situation.Which was what exactly? Was he fantasizing about her in a porno?

That night she tried to engage him in conversation about it, but every time she'd start, he'd repeat her words in his 'mama always said' voice.

"Mama always said, 'If a man goes looking at porn that's his own dang business.'"

"Damn it Avery! My point is-"

He started tickling her before she could finish.

He was impossible, and she finally ran into the corner screaming. As quickly as she could, she blurted out, "What you do is your damn business, but I don't want to know about it, and if I ever catch you again, there's going to be a problem!"

As they waited for the bill to be dropped off at their table, he prodded her for an answer. "Come on Little Kim, who in the room would you do?"

An extremely wicked smile welled up on her smug face. If he truly wanted to spoil the night with his games, then she'd show him who was uptight.

"The waiter!"

"Our waiter?"

"Yep!" The guy was a total tool, and she knew that would piss Avery off.

"I don't buy it."

"Let's just say I know his type."

"Yeah, well so do I. He has frosted hair, Kim! I betchya he drinks five-thousand-grams of Mega-Mass-Multi-Muscle-Maker-Protein-Powder every day. I betchya he shaves his pecks! He isn't even close to your type."

"I didn't say he was my type. I said I know his type."

"And you'ddohis type?"

"Did you get a look at the size of his hands? I dated a cute Romanian guy like him my freshmen year, and I can still feel theo-la-lahe gave me." She closed her eyes and dreamed for a moment, then slowly and cruelly stated, "His dick wassoooo god damned big." She allowed a serene sexed up expression to flow across her face. Then to accentuate her point, she circled her hips gently in the chair. "And the things he could do with it,my god!"

Her eyes then opened to find the beefy hand of the blonde waiter setting the bill in front of Avery.Crap! Her pale cheeks burned red and she bit her tongue in order to painfully manage a polite smile. Shesooomuch hoped their waiter hadn't heard that, but given how Avery laughed, there wasn't a chance he'd missed it.

Their waiter dropped the leather wallet containing the bill, and apologized for interrupting as he poured the last of their wine. He then looked at Kim as if every dirty little secret she kept was penned across her face. "Now I'll let you get back to where you were, ma'am."

As soon as he left, Kim shot Avery a real nasty evil-eye. "You skeezy shit-head!"

On their way out of Cuthbert's, Avery asked her if she would like to know whohe'dchoose, and then softly danced towards the hostess's station before she could answer. The hostess happened to be a young pretty Brunet in a nice black coat with an empire waist, a style that granted a woman of any age that little girl appeal, and made this already young missy seem an off-limits fifteen. He began to ask how one might get a hold of the recipe for their risotto, but she claimed theyneverhand that out. He continued to persuasively flirt until Kim realized the girl was completely charmed by him.

She'd forgotten how smooth he became when he really turned it on, and the way he spoke and moved for the hostess took her back to the day Avery had won her over.

At the time, she'd just returned to LA to live with her dad and take a job in the records office of UCLA, a fulltime version of the job she performed while going to U.C. Davis in San Diego. Avery came in to ask her about his records and to say her Dark Funeral tee-shirt was wicked. It quickly became clear he was schmoozing her to fudge in some non-transferable credits and prevent having to complete bullshit-credits courses. As harmless as it sounded, doing it could cost her a job, and so she told him no way. But he kept at it, "If you do, I might let you come back to my place and browse my records department. No Dark Funeral, but I have some vinyl I know you'll freak over."

"Really? Let me just call up your record and have look-see, then."

Kim had always been cold and shitty to the spoiled brats who thought college was a birth right, especially after working so hard to pay her own tuition. Avery was different, though, he wore a leather jacket with a Porsche patch on the front, but the rest of his attire consisted of an un-tucked country-style shirt that could have only come from a second hand store, brown Dickies pants, and worn out converse shoes. These clothes mocked the jacket. Most of the students downplayed their clothing, but his appearance was like a big 'fuck you' to rich boys in sports cars. And he'd walked in there with such a cocky unorthodox way of doing things, and did it with a head of gorgeous black hair, that she simply found him too damn handsome and fun to hate. She couldn't believe she was actually considering risking her job to do this rich boy a favor, but it also gave her a perfect opportunity to play with him, andthatshe couldn't resist.

After entering in his name, she exclaimed, "Twenty-six and your still in college?" She read a bit more, "Film? Isn't that like the most expensive major ever? Surely daddy can just buy you a few more credits, can't he?" He needed those credits, so he took it on the chin and laughed it off. And then, even more unbelievable than risking her job over this guy, she saidyesto his invitation to lunch. That was seven months ago, and they'd been partners in crime ever since.

Avery had certainly charmed Kim into fudging his record, and that same charm was yielding results from the hostess. The young girl finally left for the kitchen and returned with a folded piece of paper. The way she looked at Avery while placing it in his palm made it seem as though she'd offered her phone number instead of a recipe. As he escorted Kim out the front door, he asked, "Still want to go for drinks at Valentines?"

"Oh you bet you're sweet ass, funny guy. You should know better than to push your luck when my shit looks thisgud!" She threw her ass into his hip and he had to side step to keep from falling. He recovered, got the door for her and, acting as if her bottom posed a serious threat, gave her plenty of space to pass through.

He laughed the entire cab ride over to Valentine's, but she crossed her arms and legs and shook her head. "So," he began, suppressing his giggles, "whaddya think about cooking me up some risotto tomorrow night?" She snorted laughter and then hit him in the arm, warning him he wassoooin for it.

"I can't believe you're jealous! You're only twenty-two, smart, the most beautiful girl in LA, and you haveme. Did you really think I was going to grab some ground beef when I already have a perfect rib-eye in the bag?"

"Arib-eye? I'm a rib-eyein the bag?Well too badrib-eyedoesn't go very well with risotto. You know, you should have stopped at the most beautiful girl in LA, I'd actually considered forgiving you."

"OK, you're not arib-eye––you're mylittle metal-head chickie-chick!" He pinched her nose and she gave in laughing again. He could always get her. He would always wear her down in the end. And if it wasn't some magic thing that he said, then it was just the beauty of his face––his translucent blue eyes, not a cloud between her and his soul, hollow angular cheeks, like someone they'd cast as an enemy spy, his thick rich hair, which she loved to fondle and smell and style, and of course his maddening smile that beamed out of his light five-o-clock shadow. She both hated and loved him for being so utterly charming. He'd hijacked her world, and she hadn't been prepared to fall for Mr. Right so soon.Damn, damn, damn Avery for being so charming!

Valentines was on busy Sunset Blvd in Hollywood, where bright lights hit from almost every direction and giant billboards loomed overhead. It still had a great vibe, just in a glitzy, sleazy, rock-star kind of way. They exited the cab directly in front of the bar, and just as it began to pull away, she shouted, "My purse!" Avery bolted after the car, sprinting into the street and coming up alongside the driver's side window, playing it super serious like some action star trying to retrieve a time-bomb. The guy finally stopped half a block away, and Avery recovered her purse from the back seat. Afterwards, he sauntered back completely composed as if the incident never occurred, black slacks gliding over his Ali Boulala, leopard-print, skater shoes and her grey leather bag slung over a shoulder like it belonged to him. She was laughing hysterically––he was such a madman.

He returned to her side, and when she reached a hand out for her purse, he said in a feminine voice, "Uh-uh, girl, it's my purse now." He pressed it against his red, satin, smoking jacket, right at his stomach. "See, I match."

As she conceded to let Avery carry her purse, she also became aware of a guy walking around from the parking lot, and who now made a point of quickly getting ahead of them and opening the door for her. He was a tall blonde, maybe six-two, with a cleft chin and wearing a black leather motorcycle jacket. As she walked past he stared her down with the most intense green eyes, and if he wasn't so utterly handsome she might have been pretty creeped out. He let Avery in too, and after Avery stepped inside he turned to the guy and opened Kim's purse. "Now let me see, I think I have some change in here." Kim snatched her purse from him and apologized to the guy, and thankfully he appeared to have a sense of humor about it.Gawd, Avery could besooohorrible!

The tall blonde followed them in and took a seat at the bar, pulling off his jacket to reveal a toned lean body, with a back strong enough to shape his thin tee-shirt. As Avery walked her to a booth, she marveled at the guy, still impressed by the way he'd made such a big deal of getting the door for her.

"That was unexpected. Maybe we should dress up a little more often."

"It's all you, babe. I tell ya how much I love that dress. Gurl, seeing you look this hot is worth a three-hundred-dollar dinner any night."

She hadn't pulled her eyes from the tall blonde, so Avery put his hand in front of her face. "Mama always said, 'It ain't polite to stare at people just because they look different than ourselves.'"

"Different is right," she hummed. "Muscles and manners!"

"Hey, who ran faster than a speeding bullet to get your purse?"

"Well, well, funny guy, don't tell me you're finally jealous?"

"Not of Mr. tee-shirt and jeans over there."

Valentine's was an old bar, the walls were covered in pictures of stars from the forties and fifties, most were signed headshots, but several were taken from inside the bar in its heyday. When they reached a booth, there, below a framed picture of Ingrid Bergman smoking a slender cigarette and sipping from a half full tumbler, was Tony, and her hope for a romantic follow up to dinner shattered into little fragments of stupid girl dreams, which she'd gather up, stuff into the barrel of a pistol, and shoot through her head.

Tony's hair lacked a single direction, his mutton-chop sideburns stood straight out like Hugh Jackman as Wolverine, and he wore a lettered green tee-shirt, reading, 'VIRGINS PLEASE PROCEED TO THE FRONT OF THE LINE'. He had a pint of pitch black beer and grew real happy when he saw them. "Man, you guys took forever. I've already down one of these." He held up the big pint, and being only an inch taller than Kim, about five-six, the pint looked huge in his hand.

"Look at you two all dressed up. Wow, Kim. I mean,wow! You are like, I don't know, coming off the pages of a magazine!"

Avery reached over to him and the guys slammed fists like the two best friends they were, and then Tony congratulated Avery on selling his car. "Hey, so you tell me to come out and beers are gonna be on you, and so far I've had to shell out for twofive-dollar pints.What's up with these trendy prices?"

Tony had good features and wasn't truly a bad guy––just no immediate charm. It also seemed as if he'd had it in for her, being the one who pointed out to Avery the resemblance between the porn star and his girlfriend, and that was grounds for a serious whooping as far as she was concerned.

Avery asked what she'd be drinking and she said she'd decide at the bar, then set her purse down at the booth and followed him. On the way she leaned into his ear. "How could you invite him along tonight?"

Odeon
Odeon
1,020 Followers