This isnt really smut, just something i thought of while i was spending my daily six hours worshipping these two. Seriously, i love them! enjoy!
"Hey hon, what do you think of this? Mimi and I just finished working on it the other day." Collins looked up from the book he was reading (Animal Farm, an old favorite) and stared as Angel pranced into the living room, her black wig bobbing and her eyes glittering with excitement. She was wearing a beautiful short black dress, with two shoulder straps and a certain shimmer in the material. Her legs were in sheer reddish tights, and black sandals adorned her feet. Nestled in her wig were two barrettes; a shining black clip and a flat red one. Her face and hands were carefully painted with makeup that seemed to blend wonderfully into her creamy skin. Forget the starved, wrenched, gaunt models that were plastered on billboards throughout the city; Angel was truly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
"Wow…" was all Collins could say. He was hypnotized by the glint of the barrettes and the smooth, shimmering material that wrapped around Angel's hips. Angel smiled and struck a pose.
"Well, what do you think? Although I have a pretty good idea from your expression right about now…" Collins snapped out of it and shut his mouth; he had been not far away from drooling.
"Jesus, Angel, I mean…that looks…let's just say that it might work on some people, but on you it overachieves." Angel rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, pretending to glare at her lover.
"Only you could try to compliment someone and make it sound like something in a cheesy book of pickup lines from the 40s." Collins laughed and stood up, striding over to Angel. Wrapping his arms around her, he leaned down and kissed her. She pressed against him, returning the kiss. With a shiver, Collins could feel the fabric of her dress brush a patch of bare skin inside a rip on his ratty old shirt. When they broke for air, he smiled and put a finger on her chin.
"Was that better?"
"Much," she whispered, and reached up to kiss him again. Collins moved his hands over her back, skin and cloth shifting beneath his touch. Her arms snaked up around his neck and pushed his head closer to hers. They moved against each other, bodies caught in a rhythm only they could understand. Tongues danced and lips rippled, sending tremors of…something through both of them. As they ran over the back of her dress, Collins's hands happened to push the left shoulder strap down Angel's shoulder. She didn't pull away, but instead brushed her hand against the back of his neck, fingers gently caressing the tender skin there.
Their actions became faster now, soft breaths and slight groans of pleasure creating a strange, passionate music. Collins sank into the dream-like state that so often accompanied time with Angel. Now it was like he was swimming through a sea of her, of her touch and her smell and her taste and just her, just Angel…a crescendo of emotions crashed through Collins, and he felt himself harden and begin to sweat. Something more would have to happen soon, there was no way it couldn't. Neither of them would stop this now for anything in the world.
In his reverie, Collins felt himself back into the couch, pulling Angel with him. Gently, almost as if she were a baby, he cradled her body to his, leaning back until they were lying lengthwise on the couch, Angel on top of him. The sudden change in position seemed to intensify the kissing, and Collins pulled the other strap of the dress down her shoulder. She in turn ran her hands over his hair, pulling the beanie he wore so much off. Collins hardly felt it; all he could focus on was Angel. And as the two stripped each other, as they joined in that single, ultimate expression of love, Collins stayed in his dream. Because this experience, this being with Angel, was too wonderful for real life. It was too perfect.
Hours later, when Collins woke on the same couch he had been reading on earlier, he discovered that he was holding Angel in his arms, dark skin blending with smooth mocha. They were covered by a thin blanket usually kept on the back of the couch, and he could feel his naked body pressing against hers. She breathed in and out slowly, her face innocent and beautiful as a young child. The light of the city splashed across them like a spray of warm mist.
Collins was suddenly filled with some urge; some need to tell her how he much he loved her, to express to Angel a tiny bit of his enormous feelings for her. Leaning down, he whispered softly into her ear, "I love you." He kissed the smooth skin of her earlobe and smiled to himself.
And then his eyes widened in surprise as she stirred, twisted around to look at him, took a breath, and said just as softly, "I love you too."