Blond Assassin.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing when she called; we haven't spoken a word to each other in nearly over two years.

It was crazy, as soon as I heard her voice and realized she was coming, it was being a pre-pubescent teenager all over. Weak knees, shaky voice, sweating profusely, anxiety attacks; For the first time in probably four years I asked someone what I should wear to flatter myself. And when I saw her again it was like she had never left, her bounding step, her fluttering and spastic laugh, even her long wild blond hair. So much had changed, yet it seemed like nothing ever changed at all. It's like back when we first met: I'm an emotional trainwreck and she's so high on life it's infectious.

We spoke and it seemed so natural and right, I forgot what it was like to talk to such an honest and forward person. She spoke her mind, laughed at all my jokes and insults, and as always made sure to keep what was really going on in her head to a minimum. She just made me feel so good, I was sad to hear she was leaving right after this Angel lept back into my sights.

I offered to let her stay the night and I had one of the strangest nights I've ever had.

I started to set up my bed in the other room, obviously letting her sleep in my much cooler room with the bed, when she crept in and unceremoniously took off her bra and bent over, giving me the grandest view of her bulging cleavage. Without so much as a second thought or even a hint that I might be staring wide eyed down her shirt, she simply asked if I wanted to sleep with her.

What? We haven't spoken in years? I know you've only slept with two guys, I know you're looking for a good time, but what is this? I remember when we were fifteen and I told you about oral sex with a girl and you laughing your ass off at me, telling me how unbelievably gross that was. Scolding me softly for the raw amount of sex I managed to have as a youth, telling me of the dangers and showing some restraint, yet here you are, offering yourself to me like some sort of object?

I agreed after a moments hesitation, clearly unsure of what to say or do. In truth, of all the girls I've ever met in my life, she is (And shall remain,) the only girl I've cared considerably enough to utter the L word to that I HAVEN'T fantasized about. I've just never thought about her like that, I respect her too much and always thought of her as this wonderful saviour, a pure and hilariously gifted girl.

I got in and kept to my side, bewildered and a little astounded something like this was happening. I'd never in my wildest and bizarre dreams ever imagined something like this unfolding, this was the closest we'd been in nearly five years and then the most we had managed was a holding hands, a stolen kiss under the covers. Yet here I was, lying beside this barely clothed Goddess, unsure and more than a little afraid of what could be ahead.

She grabbed my hands with a laugh and threw one around her waist, pulling the other hand around her neck to rest a little above her breasts. I felt myself shake as she rubbed her ass up against my crotch, my nervousness beginning to rise.

We talked for a bit in this embrace, her words thick with seduction and the promise of something so much more, mine weak and mumbled. This sweet and innocent girl I had fallen for so many years ago was gone, replaced by this newly awakened women, her powers of seduction taken to impossible heights.

When we kissed I lost my breath. She started fast, but slowed when our tongues met; the pace was defined by her want of me. We sped up, our hands roaming free and touching whatever they pleased. I felt her body all over, my fingers wrapping around and feeling every inch of her incredible body. I was in a dream, my mind unattached and watching the event unfold beneath me.

She revealed more to me in two minutes then she had over the course of our entire previous friendship.

She wasn't looking for a boyfriend, she simply wanted a strong pair of arms to hold and feel her all over. She worried about me caring too much (Justly...) and how things might become weird after we did have sex, she told me she'd want to do it again but not any sort of long distance relationship. She showed me her lack of a gag reflex, told me of chronic masturbation, listed off all the filthy things she Loved to have done to her.

It was at this point I became so nervous I got stage fright, I actually could not perform.

I couldn't believe it. The sweet and innocent girl I knew was gone, replaced by this lusting and savage Amazon, begging me to fuck her with the extra finger and finish by cumming all over her tits and mouth.

I couldn't get hard. I tried everything, thinking of someone else, finger banging and oral sex until she came violently and repeatedly, my tongue inside her. Masturbation, relaxation, forcing it...

She talked to me like I was some sort of child. I've got a dozen women under my belt, she's had sex with two and is telling me what to do. What the fuck.

Afterwords, we just lay awake all night. We cuddled and kissed, I ate her out again and again watching her body rise and fall as she came and came again, we talked and spoke to each other like a married couple.

"I'm all yours right now, you know that?"

Except you're not. I know you will probably never be mine, you're too much of a free spirit to be held down by any man. I know this may be my only chance at this sort of thing again, we may never kiss or hold each other or anyone else like I am holding you right now. But I wasn't sad, I just lay there and breathed her in as much as I could. I embraced, I kissed, I tried and tried to actually get the show going, but I couldn't.

I had work in the morning and got maybe two hours of sleep, the rest of the night spent wrapped in my Love-drunk haze. When she left, she left like nothing had happened. This was simply standard treatment for an old friend. We hugged, kissed one last time, and she left with a laugh and a smile on her lips.

After it's all said and done, I honestly still can't believe what has happened. I don't know if I should speak, she's not looking for a clingon or even another fuck buddy, she could have any man she wants. I don't know when or if I'll ever see her again, but I'm still so glad I did get the chance to see her, even with what happened. I'd do it all again, even the workday that never seemed to end and being awake for the better part of 36 hours.

I miss her, but I know it's wrong to. I know such things are stupid to waste my time on, I know she's not interested in the nice guy at this point. She wants to go and experiment, party it up a little, meet some people. I wanted to tell her it won't go anywhere, I've been down and been stuck on that street for so long now it's just an embarrassment. The people you'll meet will never care or respect you as much as I will, the parties you'll see will fade and die after time, and I know that if you keep at it, you'll find someone. You deserve and will find the best.

I don't know where this leaves me. Alone, used, yet happy about it all. I know I was just a pair of arms and a strong brush up to her confidence and ego, my whispered words of lust and wonder stroking her nerves and mind.

My blond Angel, the Worlds Blond Assassin; wounding and awing young boys all over the world.

I wonder where I sit on her pile of skulls.