You have to be very quiet.”She hadn’t really said she would go with him, but she didn’t say a word when he drove to the place and parked in the ...riveway. Silently, they tiptoed around the back of the house to a lower level. He opened sliding glass doors and led her through a place that looked like a family room to another door. He unlocked it, turned on the light, and went to a radio. He turned it on low to a classic station.“There,” he said. “They don’t mind the radio being on low, and they. In the arms of an angel, fly away from here.From this dark, cold hotel roomand the endlessness that you fear.You are pulled from the wreckage, of your silent reverie.You're in the arms of the angel, may you find some comfort here.You're in the arms of your angel, may you find some comfort here."Angel" By: Sarah McLachlan © 1997, From: "Surfacing," Nettwerk/AristaThe striking pair moved hurriedly through the dark corridors of the opera house. With the lithe blonde in the lead, she never paused. Suddenly, Mark stopped and fell back into her office chair. “Ride Santa, baby.” Andrea obeyed, straddling Mark and pushing her breasts at his face. She lowered herself onto his cock as he flicked and tweaked the clamps cinching her nipples. She took him deep inside her, but it was not enough, so Andrea rode his cock hard, bouncing up and down on his lap. Mark kissed her and sucked her tongue and fondled the clamps as she rode him. “Fuck, baby,” Andrea cried. “So good… so hard… so deep. Fuck me. He steps deeper into the shadow and light chasing each other around the room as the candles, on the shelf near the bedroom door and on each side of the bed flicker and sparkle. One of the large candles next to the bed brightens bathing her naked body in its soft glow. Gray streaks shine against the blush of her long auburn hair falling across her shoulder down to where her breasts begin. Breasts lengthened by babies and gravity fall past rolls of ample abdomen, their nipples hard but slightly.