Deep inside I hoped he would continue, to stroke my ass with his strong hands. He stretched a finger and pressed it against the fabric of my pants, on... the spot exactly between my ass cheeks.At that moment the bus stopped at a stop in some village 6 miles from my own. The doors opened and I felt the strong hand pushing me out of the bus. Aroused by the stroking of this mysterious man I immediately obliged. When the bus was gone I was left alone with him. I still hadn’t seen his face and tried. " Are you an angel?" one of the new Watchers asked him, her eyes seemingly growing even larger."I'm the person the press has labeled 'the Angel of New Orleans'," Alex explained. "As Gail intimated, I'm not an actual angel, but I project a certain kind of energy which draws people to me. What's more, I trigger a reaction in some people, who we call 'Seers', who can see this energy," he described, indicating the three women standing beside Gail. "Their typical reaction is to call me an angel.. About how her arsehole was sacred and no cock was ever going up it. She said anal sex was dirty and only desperate women did it because they couldn't get a man any other way. I'd been seeing her once or twice a month for four or five months by this point. She was in her very late 40s, petite, with bottle blonde hair and a wardrobe that screamed 'mutton dressed as lamb'. She was from the North, with a very broad accent, and earned very good money in public health. Out of her clothes, she. I was alone in bed. I got up and walked around the apartment looking for Carol but she was no where to be found. Then I discovered I was starving. I fixed myself something to eat and opened a beer and turned on the TV. TV was boring and I hit the off button and noticed a thick document laying on the coffee table. On the front it read CAROL'S STORIES. I had been meaning to get this out. Now I opened it. I flipped through Chapter 1 quickly, Carol had told me all about it on the plane. I turned.