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Cupid's Calling

A disillusioned Cupid finds the angel of his dreams…
It was the morning of February the thirteenth and even though he should have been busy with Valentine’s Day preparations, Cupid was bored. Sitting at the breakfast table, he contemplated his situation. Ever since the rise of technology, his job as God of Love had become easier than ever. Instead of having to fire golden arrows to make people fall in love, he just had to press a shiny red button in the Palace Control Room at 00:00 on the fourteenth of February every year. The button would automatically combine fate, love, karma and divine intervention, and the entire earth would do as was destined.

Cupid couldn’t deny that the process was easier than before but it made him feel useless. It didn’t take much effort to press one measly button; anyone could have done it. And even though the whole procedure was steeped in pomp and circumstance, Cupid knew that it was all just tradition. Gone were the days when angels would swoon at the very sight of him; he used to be a symbol of love and power. Now he was just another royal official, residing at the palace due to his symbolic status and reputation.

Truth be told, Cupid had become disenchanted. Being Chief Cherub wasn’t all it was cracked up to be and he had even considered abdicating his longstanding throne in favour of his younger brother, Stupid, but Stupid just didn’t seem to fit the bill. He was the type of cherub who would be out until the early hours, clubbing with the angels, coming home reeking of weed and hard liquor. No, Cupid thought unhappily, to give Stupid the role would probably ruin love for everyone.

Taking a bite from his heart shaped piece of toast, Cupid contemplated the options available to him. He could always get another job; something to do for the other three hundred and sixty four days of the year. But he knew that The Powers That Be would most likely disapprove and then he’d really be in trouble. No, he needed something private to occupy himself with; some activity no-one else would need to know of.

Cupid picked up his cappuccino and took a stroll around the palace. The views of Heaven from his windows were second-to-none and he briefly wondered what his father, Cupid the MCXXXVI had paid for the place. Not that it mattered. Dad was long gone; the latest news Cupid had heard, was that he and Mom were surfing down the Niagara Falls, finally liberated from their roles of Mr. and Mrs. Cupid.

Was he being ungrateful? Cupid took a thoughtful sip of his coffee as he wandered into the study. The role of God of Love was something that other cherubs would have given their right wings for and yet here he was, unappreciative, not even thankful for the trust and responsibility placed upon his golden shoulders.

With a sigh, he sat down at his mahogany desk and studied the screen on the wall in front of him. It was filled with figures and statistics, numbers and names running across the display in a never ending digital blur. There were to be thirteen million, seven hundred and twenty eight thousand, nine hundred and seventy seven new romances this year. Cupid compared the figure with that for 2012. Overall there was a 0.86% decrease which was unfortunate, yet unavoidable. There was no honourable way of altering destiny.

Cupid gulped his now-lukewarm cappuccino and read through some of the names flitting across the screen. Mr. Jones and Miss Jenkins would finally reveal their feelings for each other. Mr. Chang and Mr. Wan would go on their first date, regardless of what their families thought. Mr. Patel and Miss Khan would defy social status and go dancing, and, Cupid’s eyes widened, they’d reach fourth base! In one night! Lucky bastard, Cupid thought sullenly as Mr. Patel’s handsome face flashed off the screen.

Dejected, he left the computer to its job and headed outside to the rose garden. The views across his kingdom from here were (all puns aside) absolutely heavenly. Combined with the scents of fresh roses, lilies and tulips, Cupid couldn’t help but smile as his mood naturally lifted. From this beautiful garden he could see everything that was happening across the heavens and the earth and he could enjoy and appreciate it all in peace.

Cupid summoned his state of the art binoculars and with these, took up his hobby of Kingdom Watching. To the east, he could see young cherubs and angels attending elementary school, satchels thrown over their eager little shoulders. To the north, rivers of milk and honey flowed down the mountains, providing nourishment for the thriving flowers and meadows in the valleys. With his binoculars, Cupid followed the course of the rivers right down to where they met the southern sea and there he could see the beach, in all its natural beauty.

Being Wednesday, the sands were free of the usual tourists and the waves frothed lazily undisturbed into the shore. It was only when Cupid made to put down the binoculars that he caught sight of the angel. He nearly missed her at first; her skin was tanned almost the same colour as the golden sands and so it was only her flame-coloured hair that he glimpsed from the corner of his eye. Hurriedly, he snatched up his binoculars again and cranked up the zoom so he could see the angel in as much detail as possible. And she was beautiful.

She was sitting peacefully, her long legs bent at the knees, an open book held in her small hands, her head bent in concentration. Waves of tousled red hair fell over her tanned shoulders and back and even though Cupid couldn’t see her face, he instinctively knew that she was beautiful. Inside, he felt a strange feeling of excitement and… and… what felt suspiciously like lust. Blinking the thoughts away, he put down the binoculars and headed to the palace stables for his noble steed.


It was early evening when Mercian the stallion finally galloped onto Paradise Beach, his hooves kicking up sand as Cupid coaxed him to a halt. Jumping down off the horse’s back, he glanced around the apparently deserted beach. His first thought was that the angel had gone and his whole trip had been a wasted journey but as he left Mercian lapping at the milk and honey waves, and walked further into the dusk, he finally spotted her beautiful red hair, topped with a gleaming golden halo.

She was still reading the book, or indeed it may have been another, because next to her was a small pile of paperbacks, along with a bottle of water and some sunscreen. Not wishing to startle her, Cupid called out a greeting from a distance as he approached and finally saw the face he’d fantasised about for the entire afternoon.

Stopping a couple of meters away, he took a moment to admire her. Sparkling green eyes, an upturned little nose and perfect pink lips combined to give the angelic face of his dreams. She was slim and tanned, clad in a pair of shorts and an emerald green bikini top that tantalisingly revealed the tops of her small breasts. Cupid began to get hot and bothered in a way he’d never experienced before.

“Can I help you?” She asked and Cupid walked a little further forward, mesmerised by the sight of her. He knew he was staring and forced his eyes away to rest on the book in her lap, his heart skipping a good few beats as he registered the title; Fifty Shades of Grey. He felt his mouth drop open and a look of concern furrowed the brow of the angel before him.

“Are you okay?” she asked, jumping to her feet and touching his arm gently. The touch sent sparks of desire shooting through Cupid’s body and he shook his head, feeling foolish.

“I’m fine.” He smiled reassuringly, though he made no move to brush her hand away. “Good book?” He nodded at the discarded erotic novel.

The angel grinned mischievously and shrugged. “Ah, not bad, I guess. Makes up for the lack of male presence in my life, at any rate.”

Lack of male presence, eh? Cupid thought to himself. Well, maybe I could help you out with that.

“I’m Florence.” The angel said and she took her hand off his arm to place it in his as they shook. Her hand was small and warm and Cupid could only imagine how it would feel if she were to touch him in other places. Her expectant look shifted his unholy thoughts and he made to introduce himself

“I’m Cu-… I mean, I’m…” Cupid tried to think of a fake name to give her, but drew a blank. “You can call me CJ.” His surname was actually ‘Godly’ but he figured there wasn’t much difference between J’s and G’s anyway, so ‘CJ’ wasn’t that false a name.

Florence the angel seemed unperturbed as she stooped to pick up her belongings off the sand.

“Hey, I’ll do that.” Cupid said hurriedly, eager to engage in further conversation. He picked up the items and handed them to her. “Can I walk you home?”

“Sure.” Florence said, her green eyes passing appraisingly over his figure. “So long as you don’t have any dishonourable intentions.”

“Hey, I’m not that kind of cherub!” Cupid lied as he followed her across the golden sands, unable to draw his eyes away from her perfect ass.


Florence lived in a small, homely cottage, the kind that seemed to have jumped straight off the pages of a fairy story. Honeysuckle grew around the door and a big weeping willow tree stood at the side of the house. There was a cobbled path which led through a tangled garden of flowers and shrubs, all of which seemed to have grown as if by magic. Cupid followed Florence through the glossy red front door and into the living room.

It was cluttered and cosy, bookcases covering the vast majority of the walls, each stuffed with hundreds of assorted books. For some reason, the place smelt like a delicious mixture of liquorice and gingerbread. There was a small fire burning in the hearth, and a little ginger cat lay fast asleep on a rug in front of it. Paintings hung on the walls, landscapes, portraits and still-lifes; an eclectic mix which somehow fit together perfectly. Cupid instantly fell in love with it all. After the years of living in his luxurious palace, a cottage as simply beautiful as this left little to be desired.

He turned to Florence who was watching him silently, a small smile playing around her mouth. She walked towards him, her head tilted back slightly so she could look him in the eye. “So,” she said softly, “Why did you really want to come back here, CJ?”

Her proximity was so close that Cupid found himself almost breathless as he tried to summon up a response. “My name’ not CJ.” He blurted out and mentally kicked himself as Florence’s emerald eyes widened.

“Oh?” She ran the tips of her fingers down his chest absentmindedly. “What is it then?”

Maybe honesty was the best policy. He took a deep breath. “Cupid.”

Florence raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Cupid as in Love God Cupid? Do you think I’m that gullible?”

“I’m serious!” Cupid said, “Look, blonde curly hair, Roman outfit… isn’t it obvious?”

Florence hesitated. “So where’s your bow and arrow thing?”

Cupid turned around to show her the items on his back. “Good enough for you?”

“Hmm.” Florence walked around him so they were face to face again. “Shouldn’t you be out using them then? It is February thirteenth, you know.”

“I know.” Cupid began to explain about the shiny red button and the computer and all the karma programming but before he could finish, Florence pressed her finger to his lips, silencing him.

“I get it.” She said, “The only question is; what are you doing here?”

Cupid shrugged uneasily. “I kinda saw you with my binoculars and then I just… wanted to see you in real life.”

“Is that so?” Florence stepped closer towards him. “And now you’ve seen me.”

Sparks of desire flew through Cupid’s body, his heart beating faster. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, trying to work up the courage to touch her.

Florence beat him to it. Her hands slipped around his neck as she pushed her body closer to his, her slim feminine form pressing gently against the length of his body. Cupid could feel her heart beating against his chest, could smell her exotic perfume as she pressed her mouth to his in a soft kiss. Her eyes glowed mischievously and Cupid could feel himself getting harder and harder as she whispered, “So, now what do you want to do?”

“I…” Words failed him but Florence didn’t seem to mind. She pressed her cheek against his and whispered in his ear, making him blush redder than a bouquet of roses. Cupid opened his eyes to see that her halo had disappeared. She was a bad angel.


Sex with Florence was like nothing Cupid had ever known. He’d had a few fanciful flings back when he was at high school but they were awkward fumbling encounters, nothing compared to the passion he experienced with Florence.

After liberating him of his clothes, she’d led him into her bedroom, shut the door and that was when things started moving faster than Cupid could have ever expected. Pressed up against the old oak door, with her mouth moving down his chest, he had to pinch himself to make sure it wasn’t all a dream. He could only thank his lucky stars as her warm, wet mouth closed around his erection, moving with the skill and expertise that only a bad angel could ever possess.

Her tongue flicked rapidly under the hood and Cupid groaned out loud as he let the waves of long overdue pleasure seep though his body. Goddesses and honey aside, this was definitely his kind of heaven. Florence’s hand reached up to massage his erection, adding to the heated pleasure building in his loins. But all too soon, she stopped, her lips sliding off his length slowly as she stood up, totally confident in her nudity.

“Now,” she said, kissing him softly so he could taste his own precum between their tongues. “Why don’t I let you make love to me?”

Cupid didn’t waste a second in his response. In one move he pushed her face down onto the single bed, hard and ready as he supported himself on his knees. His hands clung tightly to Florence’s hips as he entered her in one smooth thrust, making her gasp out loud. Time seemed to stand still as he began moving, fucking her with long hard strokes, burying himself fully each time. She was wet and wonderfully tight, her soft moans like music to Cupid’s ears. And for the first time in his twenty seven years, he understood why his friends were such great advocates of sex.

Florence’s red hair spilled around her and onto the white pillows as Cupid and her moved in unison, the sounds of their bodies colliding echoing in the small bedroom. Cupid felt her reach around to take his hand as he increased the intensity of his thrusts, her slim body tensing in response to his actions.

“Oh, that feels so good!” She moaned and her hand tightened around his as she came, clenching hard around his erection, her body shuddering beneath his. Cupid moved for the last time, his teeth clenched as he came deep inside her, groaning out his release.


“That was so amazing.” He gasped as he lay facing the ceiling beside Florence on her small bed. “I think I love you.”

“You think?” Florence teased contentedly, running her hand down his chest. “We could make that a dead cert if you’re up for it.” She hesitated. “In like ten minutes though.”

Cupid smiled as he moved to kiss her perfect mouth. “You’ll have to come home with me.” He whispered, glancing at the digital clock on her bedside table. “I’ve got a kind of important job to do at midnight.”

“Not a problem.” Florence’s arms wound around his neck as they kissed hard. “I’d go anywhere with you.”

And for the first time in his life, Cupid felt content. If pushing that red button back in the Palace Control Room, made people feel this good, maybe his was a worthwhile job.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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