The Great Pyramid of Giza and Stonehenge, perhaps the most famous stone monuments in the known world, were both built more than 4000 years ago. When the Roman Empire flourished, both those monuments were already as ancient to them as the Roman Coliseum is to us. But before the first stone of the Great Pyramid was even laid, Angela -- the love of my life -- was already more than 10,000 years old.
* * *
I first met Angela when I was 21 years old at a fantasy RPG run by a friend of mine. There were six of us guys in the core of the gaming group--your typical game dorks into Tolkien and other fantasy authors--but we figured the group could benefit from more players so we posted fliers around the campus and that was what eventually brought Angela to us.
To say that Angela was beautiful -- and peculiar -- would be an understatement. She was about 5'7 with curly brown hair and glasses, and cute as the cutest nymph or pixie you could imagine; nothing peculiar there, but there was definitely something odd about her clothing -- a plain pink sweater and an ornate white lace dress buttoned all the way up to her chin. The sweater, purse and dress might have seemed mismatched except for a pink purse and a pair of high-heeled pink sandals she was also wearing, that somehow tied it all together well.
"Pardon me, gentlemen," she said, standing in the door of the dungeon master's dorm room, "but is this where I might find the fantasy role-playing game?"
All of us just about fell out of our chairs, because none of us expected a cute young girl like her to join our group. We all promptly moved our chairs over to make room for her and invited her to come join us at the table. Inwardly, I wondered if she would quickly blow us off as soon as she realized what profound dorks we were, but she explained that she'd played the game before at home with her brothers and even had a character already rolled up: Mithra'il, a female Elven magic-user.
Before we knew it, the game was underway and Angela almost seemed like just another one of the guys; she seemed to have uncanny luck for dice-rolling, and Mithra'il soon supplanted Valorus (our paladin) as the party's effective leader since her decisions seemed less likely to get my cleric and our other characters maimed by Orcs and Trolls and such. Whenever there was a quiet moment, though, I saw the guys checking her out and I won't lie; before our second session was over the next weekend, I was fervently fantasizing about seeing what was under that white dress of hers, and fucking her brains out.
Of course, I doubted anything would come of that; I hadn't had much luck with girls up to that point, and I'd only had sex with one girl so far. (A girl who was drunk at a party and who probably didn't actually remember much about it.) But all that changed one night about a month later, after our latest dungeon adventure had wrapped up and I was heading home to my own apartment around midnight.
"Bobby!" I heard a voice whisper from the trees near the dorm building. "Can you help me?"
"Angela?" I asked, turning to look for her.
Luckily, it was a moonlit night and I soon caught sight of Angela's white dress; ironically, it was only then from a distance that I realized just how curvaceous she really was.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"I feel like such an idiot," she said; "I locked myself out of my car! Do you think you could help me?"
"Well, I guess," I said; "I'm not much good with mechanical things, though. Journalism major, you know..."
In the event, Angela's beat-up old Toyota wasn't quite as hard to get into as I'd thought it would be; although the doors were locked, some forceful jiggling of the passenger's side door actually opened it up.
"My hero!" Angela said, giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"Actually," I said, "you shouldn't be able to jiggle a door open like that; you really ought to have that fixed."
"Oh, I know," she said, "but I don't have a lot of money..."
"Can't you borrow some money from your parents?"
"My parents died a long time ago; but you're right, it's not safe to drive like that."
Angela's words struck a chord with me since my own step-parents had died in a car crash before I came to college and I was now likewise alone in the world, dependent on myself to work and look after myself.
"Angela, look, I don't feel very good about you driving alone in this car like this; why don't you let me ride home with you, and then I'll walk back to my apartment afterward."
Angela looked at me with surprise, and I didn't realize until afterward that it sounded like I was coming on to her.
"That sounds fine," Angela said, holding my arm; "you're such a gentleman."
I wasn't sure about that, but I got in the car and Angela started the engine, which rattled to life with a racket that wasn't too encouraging. We soon got under way, though, and I began to wonder how I could get the most mileage from this with my friends at the group. ("No, nothing happened, but she did invite me back to her place...")
To my surprise, though, Angela ended up parking in front of my apartment building.
"You live here too?"
"Oh, how cool!" Angela said. "We were neighbors and I didn't even know it!"
Despite myself, I felt a rush of excitement at the prospect of new possibilities: casually running into Angela on the way to wash clothes, casually asking Angela for a cup of sugar, casually being invited into Angela's apartment.
"I live on the third floor," I said, as we took the elevator together.
"Me too! How wild!"
"Yeah," I said. "You aren't stalking me, are you?"
Angela laughed her good-natured laugh, and put me at ease. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that; and somewhere no doubt there was someone good enough for her. But for just one night alone with her, just to be inside her one time.
Before I knew it we were at my apartment door and I figured it was time to be a gentleman about it and bid her good-night. I fumbled with my keys, mentioning off- handedly that my roommate was working the late shift at a gas station right now, then got the door open and thought to say good-night...
But Angela had another idea; she moved close behind me- -not unlike a thief making an excellent dice roll to stay close to her victim--and I was surprised to find her there in the doorway beside me as I reached to turn on a light.
"Bobby," she said, resting her hands on my shoulders, "a gentleman should be rewarded for his kindness."
But that was all I had time to articulate before Angela leaned forward to kiss me, kissing me full on the lips with such searching tenderness that I thought I would surely wilt and melt right there on the spot. She wasn't crude about it; her tongue only flirted with mine for a moment as our lips met, but still it was more intense than anything I had ever felt... up to that moment.
For after she broke our kiss, she then gave me a quick flirtatious look and then dropped to her knees before me. Stunned, I watched as she opened the fly of my jeans, pulled aside my underwear, and then pulled forth my penis; it grew to its full six inches instantly, and I almost fell over with shock when she leaned forward again to kiss its helmet head, then licked her lips and popped the helmet into her mouth, moaning as she started to suck me.
It was a good thing we were still in the dark because I didn't notice I'd left the door open until probably a minute later; I just managed to kick the door shut as Angela took me deeper into her mouth, then almost came on the spot as I felt Angela take me into the back of her throat, deep-throating my drooling member even as she continued cradling my cock with her tongue and sucking at the base with her pouty lips. But I lasted a minute longer somehow; maybe I was just too stunned to cum. But cum I soon did, first fucking her face with a few quick thrusts from my hips, then squirting my semen right into the back of her mouth.
Now fully in the dark, I heard Angela gasp as she pulled back from me, then heard her gulp as she swallowed down my cum. I knew there must have been a lot, but I could only guess how much as she returned to her feet and kissed me again, smearing my own cum on my face.
"Will you fuck me now?" she said.
I whimpered something incoherent, but I think she took it for a yes.
Taking me by the hand, she led me back through my own apartment in the dark, and somehow led me right to my own room despite the fact that I could hardly see anything at all.
My night vision soon improved, though, well enough for me to watch Angela with awe as she lowered me to my own bed, then paused to slip off her sandals before climbing on top of me. I didn't think I'd be able to go again so soon, but I was even harder now than I was before, when Angela took my cock in her hand and then lifted up the bottom of her dress and lowered her pussy toward my hard-on.
Since there was some light from the moon, I wanted to see her breasts, but when I reached for her chest she brushed my hand aside, even as she guided my drooling cockhead up to the lips of her pussy. I was disappointed on the one hand that she wouldn't let me see her naked, but only a little for suddenly she was easing me into her...guiding my cockhead gently into her body...
For such moments, there are no words; how to describe the exquisite pleasure of her softness as she lowered herself onto me, enveloping me in the warm wet walls of her vagina? I only know that I gasped and coughed when I felt her ass rest against my thighs, and knew that I was up to my balls inside the most beautiful woman I had ever known.
"Hush," she said, resting a finger against my lips even as she squeezed my cock with her inside muscles, "just let me do the work, my lord."
I wasn't about to argue; I lay there as ordered--stiff as a board and awash in pussy-juice--as she started to move on top of me, fucking me with slow grinding thrusts of her hips against mine.
"So," Angela said, milking my shaft with her cunnyhole, "this is your +5 mace..."
We laughed, and she started fucking me harder, putting her whole body into it as she starting climbing toward her own orgasm. Just lying there, I wasn't sure I wasn't helping her do much to achieve that, but suddenly I felt her shudder, and she leaned forward yet again to kiss me, crying into my mouth as her cunt began to flex and tighten around me.
"Oh, fuck!" she gasped. "Bobby, fuck! I'm coming!"
Despite my orders, I finally fucked her back, meeting her on her downstroke and thrusting upward to meet her; I was harder now than I had ever been, stabbing upward into her belly, and she cried with surprise as we met in a flurry of urgent, slapping thrusts.
"Should I pull out?" I gasped. "Jesus, I hadn't thought about that."
"No," she said, lying against me as we continued to fuck, "stay inside me."
I didn't have a chance to articulate my fear, that Angela's unbelievable kindness might leave her with a baby if we weren't careful. For even then--as she drew her knees forward and curled her feet underneath me--I felt something soften around the tip of my penis, and my penis growing even larger...
Incoherent with pleasure, I didn't realize until later what was happening; Angela's womb--the very core of her womanhood -- was softening to let me inside, and I was growing longer to fill that sacred place. Even as we fucked, my cockhead nudged up inside her cervix, through the cervical os and into her uterus -- and I came so hard I nearly passed out.
Angela squealed, I convulsed and shuddered, and we held each other tightly as my cum poured forth in unrelenting streams, dousing the walls of her womb with gush after gush of my seed. Like a gored bull pouring forth blood, her womb bled semen afterward, coating my cock in the same seed I had left inside her innermost core.
Afterward, I remained hard inside her for a long time, even as my cockhead popped loose from her cervix, and my cock ceased its pumping, pulsing effort to impregnate her. Perhaps I slept, I'm not sure; but later I found myself beside her as we cuddled in the dark.
"Why won't you let me see your breasts?" I asked, fondling her chest through her dress.
"I'm ashamed," she replied. "I've done terrible things..."
"Are you crying? Did I hurt you?"
I was no doctor, but I knew it wasn't normal to fuck a girl in her womb; had I broken something inside her...?"
"No, you were wonderful," she said; "just... would you love me again? One more time?"
And that I did, this time from on top; I never did see what she was hiding underneath her dress, but I did roll over between her legs, plunked my cockhead into her creamy puss, and fucked her like a maniac until I came again for a third time.
Still wearing her dress and her glasses, she looked almost exactly the same as she'd looked when she was sitting at the gaming table that evening -- except that now she was screaming like a wild woman, clutching at my arms and begging me to squirt inside her as I slapped my balls into her ass and stabbed at her insides with my cock.
Too soon I came, for I knew I could never last long enough to really satisfy such a goddess; even though I made her cum, and cum and cum again while I rode her, still I knew it wasn't enough. Even though I fucked her full of my sperm, so full that it belched from the mouth of her cunt, tightly stretched around my penis, still I felt it wasn't enough.
For such a lady, a man like me could never be enough.
* * *
Although I had only made a passing reference to my roommate's impending return, Angela seemed to know when to leave before her presence there might cause awkwardness with my roommate (who was just as much a dork as me, and would wonder how I ended up scoring with such a babe). When I woke up the next morning, she was gone and I saw no trace of her.
I looked forward to our next gaming session that weekend with mixed emotions--half anticipating and half-fearing such a public meeting with the woman I had just fucked. But Angela did not come to the next gaming session, nor did I ever see her around my apartment complex. When I asked the apartment manager about her, the manager told me she had never seen any such person, and my roommate naturally thought I was shitting him when I told him about the wild night of sex I'd had with Angela.
Perhaps inevitably, fantasy gaming wasn't quite the same when she was gone; our group broke up, and eventually I moved into another apartment by myself after I got a better job at the local newspaper. For me, Angela became a pleasant dream, almost more fantasy than real; after all, nobody had seen us together, or could confirm that I had been with her. Could it be that I had only been dreaming?
Such was my frame of mind, then, nine months later when a knock came on my door and I opened it to find Angela standing before me with a hugely swollen belly.
"Hello, Bobby," she said; "I think I might be pregnant."
I think that was supposed to be a joke, but I was too stunned to laugh; noting that Angela was still wearing the same white dress as before (with the same pink sweater and same high heels), I invited her to sit on my couch and then sat beside her, wondering what in the world had happened to her since we last met.
"I guess you're wondering where I've been," she said.
"I'm sorry, Bobby," she said; "I didn't mean to be a nuisance to you. I just wanted you to fuck me, so I could have your baby."
She then reacted with surprise as her baby kicked inside her, and I will admit that my cock stiffened a bit.
"Why?" I asked. "Why in the world did you want to fuck me? I'm nothing special; I'm just some guy."
"Oh, but you're wrong," Angela said, laying a hand beside my face; "you're more than just some guy. You're my grandson."
I lifted an eyebrow, wondering if Angela was talking about some cosmic concept beyond ordinary earthly conception--past lives or something.
"Angela, you can't be a year over 25."
"So it would seem," she said, "but I'm much older than I appear to be. I don't know exactly how old I am; the years blur and time becomes an illusion as the centuries pass. But 15,000 years, perhaps... perhaps that's about right."
"You're not drunk, are you? Or high?"
Angela smiled, and responded by pushing herself back up to her feet, while I remained sitting on the couch. I was worried for her, tottering as she was on her high heels, but she was evidently steadier than me; with an effortless motion, she unbuttoned her dress so that it fell open revealing her neck, swollen breasts and even more hugely swollen belly.
"Oh my God!" I gasped.
Even I could tell where ghastly wounds had left their mark on her body; one scar ran all the way across her neck, and other scars from cuts and -- were those shotgun blasts?--were etched in her chest.
"There is a curse upon me," Angela said, "laid upon me untold centuries ago, before the Pyramids or Stonehenge, or any of the works of Men still standing were made. I was a priestess once, and a champion of good, but I made a great enemy of a witch who cursed me with her dying breath, telling me that I would not leave this earth until I had borne a child by my own grandson.
"You are that grandson, Bobby, and this is our child."
I gawked for a long moment before managing another question.
"And the scars?"
"Are from all the times I tried to kill myself, Bobby, trying to join my kin as they left this world and traveled hither to the Undying Lands across the sea. But I could not die; I stabbed myself, I shot myself... I even tried to decapitate myself... but still I lived. I grew so tired of life, finally I could endure no more; I slept with your grandfather -- a man not unlike yourself, 50 years ago--and gave birth to a daughter. Then she in turn conceived a son whom she gave up for adoption, and thus you are here before me."
"Oh my God," I gasped. "Are you an... Elf?"
"What you would call an Elf, yes."
"But you don't have pointy ears."
Angela laughed, finally covering her nakedness as she sat beside me once again.
"Professor Tolkien never said we had pointed ears," she said, "although he was perceptive about other things. Perhaps he was part Elf himself, as you are."
I was too in awe to speak; indeed I didn't entirely believe her at the moment, wondering (with that skepticism inherent to journalists) if perhaps her gruesome injuries had come about some other way, and if perhaps she was not just some stalker who had locked onto me for reasons I could not fathom.
"If you left me before," I said finally, "why did you come back now?"
"Because the curse is finally over," she said, "and I know I will die now, as a mortal woman would die at the end of a normal course of years. But I don't want to be alone now at the end of my life; Bobby, will you stay with me? And will you forgive me, for the things I have done?"
Despite my doubts, something in her voice persuaded me and I nodded. I did, after all, love her desperately.
"I'm so glad," she said, touching my hand. "So, shall we fuck?
I'm not due for another few weeks yet."
And thus we fucked the rest of the afternoon away, as she sat above me and took me into her innermost depths, sucking and squeezing my cock in her velvet hole. Thankfully this time I didn't penetrate into her womb - - since I didn't necessarily want to touch our infant daughter growing inside her womb -- but I went deep enough to make her cum, shuddering and whimpering in Elvish as her cunt juices drooled down my cock.
And she let me see her breasts this time too, scarred and disfigured though she deemed them to be; she leaned forward over her own distended womb, then I took her nipples in my mouth and sucked them as I felt my own orgasm drawing closer. Impaled on top of me, she gave forth milk that startled us both, and we giggled at the sheer improbability of our coupling.
And then I came, wrapping my hands around the heels of her sandals and clutching her feet as I came inside her, basting her hole with ropelike jets of thick and creamy sperm.
"Grandma, I love you," I gasped, feeling her vagina clutch and squeeze me.
"I'm glad," she replied, smiling back at me.
* * *
How long we may have together, I don't know; Angela gave birth to my daughter two weeks later, and (much to the envy of my gaming group) we were married a few months after that. With the curse gone, I was worried that Angela might not be with me much longer;
I half expected her to vanish into a fog and leave me as suddenly as she had come into my life. But Angela endured, and ironically it was the evidence of her aging that gave us hope that we would indeed be able to share a life together; since she was aging as a normal woman would age, we guessed that we had been blessed with at least one normal lifetime together (God and fortune willing).
Ten years later, Angela -- in her "thirties" -- finally let me fuck her again without protection and we soon had a second child, followed by a third, and a fourth and then twins (our fifth and sixth) each born a year apart, plus another blessed event five years later just after I turned 40.
So many babies were a handful for a young newspaper writer and his beautiful "young" wife, but Angela conveniently mentioned that she had saved a fortune in gold over the millennia, so quality child care wasn't a concern at least; since Angela also had a career of her own as a successful fantasy novelist, at least it wasn't too hard to explain to our neighbors how we could afford to have so many children and still live in modest luxury.
I am 50 now, and it is hard to even begin to know what to say about Angela or our legacy. Perhaps like my roommate, you will not believe this story, and perhaps that's just as well; as Angela has told me, after all, the time of Elves is long past and now is the time of Men. But when I am inside her, and I see her look at me with such love, and feel her draw what is best from inside me, I can only hope that perhaps our children will pass some part of the gracefulness of her kind on to future generations.
Although I will have to ask Angela to stop having babies sometime; although my grandmother is supposed to be in her "fifties" now, she gave birth to our eighth and ninth children (two more twins!) three months ago, and now she tells me she's pregnant again with our tenth!
Yes, I know, we all should have such problems; but say a prayer for me, all the same. I was looking forward to a quiet retirement!