Date: 2006-03-09 05:31 am (UTC)
Pestilence remembered Uriel's wings very well; they smelled of sunlight and jasmine and all things Good. He gritted his teeth and tried to erase the mental images that had sprung up in his mind. Those type of thoughts would not help him to keep control over his body or mind.

"I'm glad you have those pleasures. Especially your ability to fly. I wish I could fly." (as with most earth-bound creatures, Pestilence had often had dreams of being able to soar among the clouds. The closest he ever got was airborn germs from a forceful cough.)

Pestilence felt his knees weaken and give way, and he gently leaned against the angel's chair, trying not to tremble as he came in contact with the angel's robe-clad legs. He placed Uriel's hand on his own shoulder, covering the angel's hand with his; sensitive to any motions on the angel's part. He leaned his head against the angel's thigh, nervous and anticipatory. These sorts of contact would either make or break the situation.

"I don't suppose you would tell me what it is like to fly." Pestilence vaguely thought about his request. Just as he had sort of initiated Uriel into a world of earthly pleasures (even if the angel didn't exactly remember it) he was now asking for a.. crash-course.. in being an angel.
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Angels and demons / most people wouldn't believe / how great the sex is.

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