The Angela Symons Story

By Mary Faderan

The Angela Symons Story is a sexual romp novel featuring an ambitious young woman who enlists the aid of a series of lovers to attain the most eligible bachelor in Europe. Angela Symons is portrayed in a frank sexual memoir of a woman bent on becoming the most pursued courtesan and mistress in France. She has no real morals and desires only to conquer, even to the point of asking the unseen help of the ancien of France, and to get what she wants: the prince of Denmark.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mary Faderan
• Release date: Oct 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463675885

Mary Faderan

Mary Faderan is an American author born in Sussex, England. She finished a BA in Chemistry, a Ph.D. in Pharmacology and recently graduated with Distinction obtaining her MFA in Creative Writing. Her book, The Loveable Resident, is a focus of contention for its detailed description of Satan, in the guise of Mike Oates, MD.

Book preview

Chapter One

1978 November

The hospital room where Juliette Massey was confined was dimly lit. She had just had her baby girl, named Angela, the night before. Tonight, Juliette would be sharing her room with her baby girl. Juliette could not contain her excitement. She merely wished her husband Lork would have been with her, but he was detained in the drunk tank of the San Joaquin Police Department and would not be let go till the next morning.

The nurse came in with the trolley bearing the little baby girl. Juliette sat up and let her arms form a circle so she could take the baby. The baby, who had been asleep, awoke and looked up sleepily at her mother. Hello, little Princess. Crooned Juliette.

I’ll stay a little and answer any questions you might have, said the nurse.

Oh, I think we’ll get along just fine.

If you say so. The nurse smiled and left.

Once they were alone, Juliette and Angela cooed at each other. The little baby was a beauty. She had olive skin, like her father, and light brown hair like her mother. It was a bonding event. All of Juliette’s dreams for her new baby alighted on Angela. Angela’s eyes widened and stared at her mother. There was a short pause and then Angela started to scream.

At the drunk tank, the policeman stood up from his desk and decidedly walked to the holding cells. There were four men in the drunk tank this evening. One of them, Lork Symon, sat with a magazine where there was a picture of the Princess Olivia of the Netherlands on the cover. Lork looked at her image with interest. He saw the cop coming over and smiled. Hey, officer, look at this girl. He waved the magazine at him. Looks a lot like my wife, Juliette! If only the Princess had blonde hair, y’know?

Ok, how about making tracks to get out of this place. What’s your name?

Symon. Lork Symon.

Ok what kinda name is Lork?

No idea. My grandma thought it up. She’s one of those people who’s psychic. Or some kind of fanatic about those Norwegian gods. Lork chuckled. He pocketed his magazine.

So, you need to get out now. I think you’re ok. Just don’t come back any time soon or they’ll revoke your driver’s license, ok?

He shrugged. I was celebrating my new baby, officer. She got born last night. She’s a beaut. I think she’ll be a big star - she’ll go places and become real famous.

Yeah, right, said the cop.

Chapter Two

September 1985

Angela Symons looked at the toys on her bed and counted several dolls and a small baby doll. She enjoyed her doll collection. Her father showered her and her mother with gifts. When he wasn’t unemployed or drying out in the drunk tank.

Angela spoke to her dolls:

Now, my ladies in waiting, I am going to be soon Princess of the land of Orkney. I am to be married to the Prince Hamskold who is to be crowned King some day. I want you all to be there for my wedding. I have already a drawing of my dress.

She turned to a picture of a Satan on her wall. Satan you are my friend and give you what I wish. Tell me when I can be as beautiful as the women in the magazines. I want to have a sexy body, and have many friends. But not friends that will be too pretty for me. I don’t want to be competing! Not for my Prince!

The picture of Satan came to life. Which Prince are you talking about?

This one. She put up the photograph of Prince Hamskold. He was a bonnie young prince, with dimples and freckles. He looked like any ordinary boy, but his hands were placed properly on his lap as he sat next to his parents, the King and Empress of Lotte, Netherlands.

Chapter Three

1992 August

The front yard of the Dillman’s house was freshly cut. There were a lot of hedges that were trimmed immaculately. It was almost seven p.m. Angela arrived with Mr. Dillman who went to pick her up to take her to his house so she could babysit his twins, Derrick and Dylan. The boys were in their toddler years and it was a bear to keep them from getting into trouble.

Angela smiled at Mr. Dillman as he undid his seatbelt. She wore a nice pair of blue denim jeans and a white tank top with a matching white cardigan. The tank top failed to hide her obvious blossoming chest and it made Mr. Dillman feel slightly edgy as she bent to undo her own seatbelt.

You need help with that? He asked.

Oh, yes, please. She smiled and leaned back to let him undo her belt.

His face hovered close to hers as he struggled with the clasp. She giggled. He glanced up at her and paused. You’re cute, sweetie.

Thank you. Angela smiled back. So are you.

Oh, he blushed.

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. He looked at her closely and then he pulled her to him. His mouth was on hers and the effect of his hot tongue inside her mouth made her gasp. Ohhh, she sighed against him.

He let her go suddenly. I didn’t mean that. He took a breath. I really am sorry. But, he looked at her again and let his eyes skim over her figure.

She looked at him and then she said, You’d better get us inside. I can walk home.

No, no. He stammered. I’ll take you home. There was a look again that exchanged between them.

You’ll be safe, ok?

Sure. He unlocked the doors and she got out. He slid the car into drive and left as she climbed the stairs.

When Dillman came back that night, he was more circumspect. Angela got herself into the car and buckled up herself. He said nothing as they drove her to her house. But she spoke. I’m really interested in having a relationship, Mr. Dillman.

Are you sure?

Yes.

She placed a hand on his leg and slid it upwards. He drove a ways and then parked at a motel. After he paid for the room, he let her inside and they jumped at each other. He groaned, making her laugh softly. His hands were all over her body. Quickly he pulled her cardigan off, then slipped her tank over her head. She looked so luscious. Her breasts were youthful but full, and her nipples were erect. She pushed him down on the bed and slipped out of her denims. He stared at her. She wore nothing else. It made him almost come to think of going into her snatch.

They made love with urgency, and Angela was mesmerizing to him.

When they were at rest, she leaned up and looked at him. Hey, I don’t even know your first name.

I thought I told you - Brad.

Brad, she repeated. Good. I like it. How about if we went together and fucked whenever you wanted me?

Sure. He smiled at her, and then his gaze became soft. You are so beautiful. How the hell have I missed you?

I’ve been watching you. She confessed.

Really?

Yeah. She leaned over him and straddled him. His erection was immediate and she rode him, making him explode inside her as she gyrated against him.

She left his car and walked to her house. It was after midnight. Her mother would be sleeping now. Angela went to the back door and slipped inside using her pocket knife. It was dark inside as she slowly and quietly went to her room.

In her room, she took her clothes off and slipped on a pair of pajamas and a loose top. Her body smelled of Brad Dillman’s come. She sat at her desk and took out a leather-bound notebook. She leafed through the pages and then found what she wanted. The page was a list of all the men she wanted to fuck and make them give