Sons of Angels Read Online Free PDF

the bottle in thanks before taking a sip. “What’s your name?”
    “Jenna.” There was a pause until the butch chuckled. “Are you going to tell me yours?”
    “Does it matter?”
    “I suppose not. I need to call you something, though.”
    “So that you can remember the notch on your bedpost?” Felicia smiled. “What would you like to call me?”
    “How should I know?” Jenna lowered her voice. “How about ‘slut’?”
    “How about ‘mistress’?”
    Jenna raised an eyebrow. “You’re a top? That surprises me. I thought all you chic girls were do-me queens.”
    “And I thought all you butches were desperate to please.”
    “Point taken. I shouldn’t judge by appearances. My apologies.”
    “Sometimes appearances are all the information we have. Conventions of form or dress connect us to the past and form an acceptable display of social mores. It’s often the only way we can recognize our own kind. You’re forgiven, for now.”
    “Thank you.” Jenna dipped her head, a wry smile teasing the corners of her lips. “And what kind are we? How do you see me, good lady?”
    “A lady now, am I?” Felicia smiled. “You’re a butch, tits bound under that shirt and packing. You’re charming, dependable and trustworthy, at least to your sister. You work out a lot, to judge from those muscles, and you’re probably in transition.”
    Jenna froze, the whiskey half way to her lips. “What makes you say that?”
    “The hair on your arms, the complexion of your skin, your bitten nails and your hair has been recently cut. Rather shabbily too, I might add, though it could be personal taste.” Felicia smiled and raised her bottle in a mock salute. “Good luck to you. I admire someone with the courage of their convictions. I could never contemplate becoming a man.”
    “I don’t like to talk about it.” Jenna took the aborted sip of her drink.
    “It can’t be easy.” Felicia put her drink down. “I need the loo.”
    Jenna sat back. “Of course.”
    Felicia stood and edged past her, enjoying the thrill of contact as their legs brushed. “Are you coming?”
    “Yes, ma’am.” Jenna followed her to the ladies’ room.
    Felicia offered the girl applying eyeliner at the sink a wink as she fled. She held open the door of the disabled stall, dropping her clutch purse onto the small shelf over the cistern.
    Jenna followed, and the click as the bolt slid home was a prelude to her pressing her lips against Felicia’s, their lips crushed between two sets of ivory. Felicia could taste the bitterness of the whiskey on Jenna’s breath as her tongue forced its way past the butch’s sharp teeth.
    Her breathing deepened as she felt the familiar rush of blood to her groin. “Hold on.” She pushed Jenna back. “Let me get more comfortable.”
    Jenna knelt on the hard tiles of the floor, sliding her hand up Felicia’s thighs to reach her knickers. “Stockings? Nice. Too few women wear them these days. They’re far sexier than tights. More hygienic too.” Her hands went higher, making Felicia shudder as the butch girl brushed across her satin-shrouded mound to reach the edges of the soft fabric and pull it down, releasing Felicia’s scent into the air.
    With Felicia’s knickers binding her ankles, Jenna drew the black dress up before leaning in closer.
    Felicia moaned. “Wait.” She bent her knees so she could rest on the hard plastic of the toilet seat. Jenna smiled and drew back, drawing her hand across the breast that was now within easy reach. She leaned forward as the nipple hardened to grasp it between her teeth.
    Felicia pushed her away, forcing Jenna to release her nipple then pulled her back. “Don’t stop.” She half-sobbed, feeling Jenna’s teeth graze against her neck. “Oh God, yes. Bite me. Just a little pain.”
    Jenna bit down hard enough to pierce the skin, making Felicia jerk. Her toes curled at the sharp pain and her pulse began to race. She could feel it pounding at her temples as