She was small, and somehow childlike even though her eyes were
wise and her gait determined. A casual observer would notice the
grace in her step, and admire the resoluteness in the pose of her
head; she seemed to be searching for something, but gave the
impression its find would be unexpected. Like a sleepwalker, perhaps,
or just a solemn little girl playing hide-andseek with an imaginary
friend.
Soft, shimmering folds of cloth fell in a swirl from her
almost too-high Imperial neckline. She was long-limbed but
short-waisted and favored this style for its complementary treatment
of this imperfection. Her grey eyes widened as she caught a glimpse
of herself in the glossy surface of the domed metal corridor, and her
pensive look spoke volumes on her self-esteem. Her lips were next to
widen as a tall figure moved into view directly behind her.
"Oh, sir, I hadn't expected to see you...you startled me." she
lilted delicately in a surprisingly mature tone.
"I can see that." smiled the older, silver-haired man whom she
turned to face. "I'd been told you were looking for me, so I decided
to shorten your trip. Would you prefer the lounge, or is my office
more suited to the matter?"
"The lounge would be alright, I suppose. It's nothing of any
real urgency, but I thought you might like to hear this from me,
first; it is my assignment, after all." she smiled in return.
"Cut! Okay, we've been here long enough for tonight, and
that's a wrap for this scene. We'll pick up at 9 am with the reshoot
of scene 2 -- that footage doesn't look as good as it could.
Remember, everybody, plenty of sleep and be ready for another full
day of shooting tomorrow. We're doing good and we're staying on
schedule, let's keep it up!" The director stood as he said this and
the crew began breaking up the equipment. The actors gathered
belongings, hoping to change in their trailors and have enough time
to beat the late traffic; the two on stage allowed their characters
- 2 -
to leave them, slowly.
"Amelia, you're doing a wonderful job. It's amazing to me that
you've never filmed before! Stage actors are rarely this poised when
it comes to making movies."
"Yes, well, it's new but it's fun. I've been told I'm a
natural," she replied with the nonchalance of someone who's not sure
she's really been paid a compliment, "but I think it's just luck:
good luck to have my foundering ego boosted by some of the best
actors in the business."
Shedding his role like a lazy chameleon, Patrick resumed his
natural British accent; a reversal, of sorts, as she regained the
oddly-inflected, strangely neutral "American" accent of her own. "I
think your ego is a healthy one, no worries there." he chuckled.
"Would you like to go into town and have dinner this evening? I'm
absolutely cringing at the thought of another repast in my cabin, and
I'd enjoy the company."
"Sleeping was my only other option tonight, someone borrowed
my cards and I can't play solitaire without them, so, why not?" Her
mischievous grin was infectious, and the two of them laughed as they
parted to their respective trailors.
Escaping the gown was a monumental achievement, its stays and
pins being reminiscent of a straitjacket; Amelia was almost afronted
at being forced to hide her perfectly good, natural figure within its
confines. Oh, well, it was her chosen occupation and this was one of
its hazards. She smiled again, and blushed...Patrick Harrison, for
all his status as an *actor*, on stage and off, was proving a
delightful new friend. He was still the dashing, impeccably-attired,
prematurely-greying hero whose exploits shaped her life; he had, of
course, grown into his grey a bit and he'd look equally impeccable in
a tuxedo or faded denims. Now, here she was, in what was being touted
as the hottest movie of the season in a year studded with spectacular
releases; the leading female role opposite the man she'd fallen in
love with when she was a little girl. A sci-fi flick, at that! The
ultra-futuristic sets made her marvel, even though they were just
mock-ups. Well, with all the praise she was receiving, as well as the
prompting and approval of others in the field whose names had been
household words for years made her feel more at-ease with her
success. She rushed at the last minute, mindful of Patrick's waiting
and aware that her own unbidden fears of making a fool of herself in
such glamorous company could prey too heavily on her mind to allow
sleep if she let it get too great an advantage.
"Oh, there you are. You surprise me, Amelia, most women take
their time and make a man's stomach go through horrible agonies
waiting for their suppers. I approve."
That, spoken with such a serious face, caused Amelia to break
out in giggles. He Patrick was, if nothing else, a very entertaining
and diverting fellow. If he hadn't been there she honestly believed
the "magic" would have been missing from the film completely. Such
spontaneity put her at her ease immediately, and he seemed genuinely
to like her.
Patrick cocked his head, then cocked his left eyebrow,
- 3 -
returned her smile and gestured to the door. They left quickly, eager
to be rid of the site for awhile and anticipating "real food" at an
unspecified restaurant in the town below.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"...and then we switched places, and soon everyone in the
chorus was playing `musical chairs'!" laughed Patrick. Reminiscing
was pleasant with Amelia; she seemed to enjoy his discourse, and
found amusing those exploits he'd all but forgotten. At forty-three
he was still in his prime, but he'd started so young that many of his
memories of the stage were more than twentyfive years in the past.
She was a novice, just starting out in her first large part and
showing tremendous promise -- he was happy to be a part of this
experience for her, and knew she depended on him a great deal. She
was perhaps twenty-four or -five, but commanded much dignity for one
so young. She'd go far...
Amelia laughed with childish eagerness, amazed to hear some of
the finer points of the behind-stage antics of what were some of her
favorite productions. She was dressed in a light, summery dress that
grazed her shoulders and allowed her freedom of movement, weary of
the tightly clinging garments she wore for the better part of each
day of filming. She leaned toward him in a gesture of innocence and
trust, delineating even more the small space between them. They'd
almost finished their meal, a pasta made sweet with basil and herbs
and accompanied by a chickory salad and a good white wine. The
waiters brought extra tidbits throughout the evening to Amelia, who
jokingly passed them along to Patrick. They both declined a sweet,
looking forward to a coffee in the quiet of the trailers later.
"Shall we go now, before these Lotharios decide to tag along
behind you?" he quipped. It was getting late and they did have to be
ready for makeup at 6 o'clock in the morning.
"Hmm...I suppose we should. It's a shame to have to stop our
talk here, though. I've been learning a lot from you, Patrick, and I
appreciate the fact that you're here when I need you. I'd like the
opportunity to get to know you better, I think we have the potential
to become good friends. Maybe you can even be my mentor." she teased.
"Or, perhaps, your Svengali. I've always fancied myself a
psychological Frankenstein..." mused Patrick.
The drive back was uneventful and decidedly too short. The
night was perfect for a long walk, but they didn't have the time to
call their own.
"Would you like to have a nightcap? I really don't want to end
the evening right now. I have a good recipe for Irish coffee..."
Amelia offered.
"Alright, but we'd best part company soon. We are creatures of
our contracts, you know."
"It doesn't take that long to make coffee, and I'm sure you'll
make short work of the drink...you did with everything else tonight!
How you can eat calamari I'll never know!"
- 4 -
"I like squid." was his typical reply.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"You know, I've been a fan of yours for a long time; I can
hardly believe I'm actually working with you on a movie!" breathed
Amelia, with something akin to wonder. Her coffee was long since
gone, and Patrick was having his third. The surrealism of the past
weeks' events, coupled with the alcohol which always made her
introspective, produced a quality of vulnerability in her expression.
She leaned against Patrick as naturally as though it were a lifelong
habit, and his arms encircled her gently.
"Have you?" he whispered. It was an unusual friendship they
shared, founded on mutual respect and admiration. They had come to
know each other very well in a short period of time, and he brooded
on the fact that he may have allowed himself to become too close. She
was everything he'd ever imagined she'd be in their shared art, and
would grow even more than she already had, given the chance. And he
didn't feel the least constrained, wasn't bored by her chatter and
didn't dread her company as he did with most of his leads. Amelia
was, in his estimation, the epitome of the ideal companion.
"Patrick? What's the matter?" she asked. He stiffened a bit, a
little annoyed she sensed his moods so easily. He'd never before been
an easy cipher.
"Nothing, I'm just thinking." He relaxed, and chided himself.
It was a lucky man who could win the concern of a woman like Amelia.
"I've been reflecting on how quickly we've gone through the
traditional getting-toknow-you phase of this relationship. It's
uncanny how easy it is for you to read me."
"Oh." Grey eyes gazed out into the dim room. Then a warm body
pressed into his, and the kitten-soft lashes framing those glorious
eyes brushed his cheek. Their fluttering, and the light, shallow
breath pulsing against his throat made Patrick Harrison, a normally
deliberate and conscientious man, renowned the world over for his
ability to bring strength to any production whose presence he graced,
miss his cue for the first time in his life; only when Amelia
half-smiled, and pulled his mouth to hers, did he realize he'd
stopped breathing.
They kissed exquisitely, cherishing the contours of each
others' lips, and teeth, and tongues. Exhaling rapidly into her
mouth, Patrick almost stopped cold at the feelings she elicited in
him. It was a shock to experience such joy, and tenderness, and
passion... he had been blase about the whole issue of sex after the
tumultuous three years or so following his awkward first fumblings
with a girl he'd thought he loved. Now, this sweet creature had
reawakened emotions he'd believed long-dead. He moaned against her
cheek, raining kisses along her eyelids and nose. Amelia nuzzled his
jaw, amazed at her own, intense desires. She didn't know what she
should do, though, not being sure what Patrick would like; he wasn't
exactly a schoolboy, he was decidedly a man who knew his own mind.
Her own mind was refusing to respond, anyway, her pleasure sensors
taking over...she abandoned reason and gave in to more primal
instincts.
- 5 -
Amelia felt large, warm hands caressing her back. Patrick
pulled her with him as he reclined, and held her on top of him. She
was writhing sensuously against him, and teasing his throat with
light nips and occasional flicks of her tongue; he responded in kind,
tracing her jaw from her chin to her ear and sucking the lobe. Her
breathing quickened perceptibly and she ground her hips against his.
She was driving the hardening, thickening length of his penis against
her swelling mound, rubbing up and down and making her moves more
precise and deliberate. Patrick, in answer, pulled the skirt of her
dress up over her thigh and began kneading her tender flesh. His
penis was so full now he felt as though he'd explode.
"Amelia, help me. Lift up so I can pull this damned dress off
you!" he whispered. His vocal cords would have been useless for
anything else.
Amelia got up abruptly, lifting her dress up in one swift
movement. Her breasts were small, but high and firm and she had no
need for a bra. Her panties were tiny scraps of white cotton held
together with lace, a tiny curtain for the triangle of curly blonde
hair trying to peep through. Her eyes lowering suddenly, she blushed;
it served to make her look even more enticing, and shifted subtly the
tint in her small, pink nipples. Then, with a determined look, she
reached down to Patrick's shirt and started to unbutton it.
Her hair fell in honeyed waves as she leaned forward, and
Patrick caught a handful and kissed it swiftly. He could barely keep
his hands off her, but he wanted to let her make all the moves. She
reached in as his shirt was half undone and ran her hands lightly
over his chest and across his nipples. She rolled her thumbs and
forefingers around them gently, and gave slight, insistent pulls
until they were so erect they ached; he finished taking off his shirt
and pulled her head softly to his chest. Amelia touched the tip of
her tongue briefly to each nipple, then circled first one, then the
other before fastening on them. She allowed one hand to drift down
over the bulge she'd thrilled to earlier, to massage its length and
to caress it. Her other hand occupied itself with Patrick's other
nipple, his entire body now sensitive to her every move.
Amelia worked her fingers underneath his waistband, teasing
him. He unzipped his slacks and pushed her away enough for him to
slide them halfway off. She rose, and pulled him by his hands; he
stepped out of the pants and positioned his thumbs inside the waist
of his briefs, but she caught his hands and pulled them away. She
knelt before him and pulled down, slowly, on the undergarment until
his penis was in full view. Amelia smiled, and hugged his thighs;
then she placed her tongue on the base of his penis and began
stroking him up and down, sucking with her lips at the base of the
glans and lowering her mouth over the whole organ. Patrick wove his
hands into her hair, and held her, and thrusted into her throat
whenever she covered him. She was soft and gentle and yielding and
she was doing the most incredible things to him with those luscious
lips!
With growing intensity she sucked every inch of him, wrapping
her tongue around him and massaging his tightly clenched buttocks.
She had him at her mercy, she knew; she was also aware, for the first
time, that she was the one who'd initiated contact to begin with. It
was with some amazement that she realized he was shaking and
- 6 -
whispering her name...
"Patrick? Are you alright?" she queried with a bemused smile.
"Dear God, Amelia, you don't know what you've done to me! I'm
an old man, remember? I don't think I can move." he breathed as he
collapsed onto the couch. Amelia leaned forward and kissed him
lightly.
"Would you like to try to get as far as the bedroom? Once
there you won't have to do *too* much."
With that promise in mind Patrick found the strength necessary
to follow right behind her.
"Here, isn't this better?" She held out her hands to him and
pulled him down beside her. He quickly pinned her to the bed and
began kissing her hair, her eyes, her nose, her mouth; making her
gasp aloud as his lips and tongue traveled down her throat and lit on
her breasts. He circled the dark pink aureoles, one after the other,
lavishing his tongue over each nipple and teasing them until they
stood tautly away from her breasts. Patrick was the one to take note,
this time, of the effect his efforts were having -- Amelia's mouth
was drawn into a small "o" and her eyes were tightly closed. Her skin
was incredibly smooth, he thought, scented of baby powder and
glistening with a fine sheen of perspiration.
Amelia's eyes flew open as her back arched involuntarily,
thrusting her hips out and opening herself to Patrick's exploring
tongue. She wasn't expecting such a sudden change in his attentions,
and this unpreparedness compounded the searing heat in her loins. His
fingers penetrated the soft folds of her labia, searching for and
spreading her natural lubrication. The tip of his tongue buried
itself just above her clitoris and, having found the rapidly swelling
organ, began circling it. His lips teased as well, sucking gently
then kissing the little button of deep-pink flesh until it was nearly
double its original size. Patrick balanced much of his weight on his
elbows, which were atop Amelia's thighs, to keep her from bucking and
finishing this game too soon...there were many more tricks to teach
her before allowing her to reach her climax.
"Patrick...more, please, more...can't take much more of
this!" she begged. Her whole body seemed numb, all her senses centred
on the remarkable feelings his tongue and fingers were eliciting. He
slipped his tongue into her vagina, savoring the sweetness that was
almost overpowering. He could feel her muscles contract in an
involuntary effort to drag his face even closer than he already was,
and knew it was time to give her what she (and he) both wanted.
Patrick pulled himself to his knees and gazed into the fevered
eyes and flushed face of the beautiful girl who had become a part of
his life in an incredibly short time. She sincerely liked him, he
could tell...and he liked her *very* much. The emotional always
enhanced the physical...
"Please, don't stop now, I need you, Patrick! I want you to
make love to me." Her simple plea was a ragged whisper, and her hips
twitched in anticipation of his next move. He grasped them and lifted
them and positioned the tip of his penis at the glistening entrance
- 7 -
of her vagina. With infinite slowness, and great care to prevent her
hips from moving, he penetrated her completely. Her creamy folds
engulfed his length, and he could see her nowprotruding clitoris
quiver in hopes of direct stimulation. Patrick massaged her buttocks
firmly and tightly, and began to grind himself into her; he withdrew
reluctantly, then pulled her to him as he thrust. He felt her legs
encircle him and draw him closer, but he retained his control and
refused to put down her hips. Her vagina was tight, but her natural
secretions made it wet and inviting.
He placed one hand under the small of her back and brought the
other around front. Her quiet moans crescendoed as he used his thumb
to rub her clitoris, and he felt her body shake. Amelia pulled
herself forward and grabbed Patrick's head, drawing him to her
waiting, open mouth. He moved slowly downward, releasing her lower
body and hugging her to him as he reached for her kiss; as their lips
met he began thrusting methodically and deliberately, increasing his
tempo quickly. Their pelvises ground together and their legs entwined
and, after that well-timed kiss, their eyes remained locked.
The intensity of their rythmic coupling made them lose track
of time. Amelia felt the first tiny quivers of orgasm building and
tightened her hold on Patrick's back. He followed her pace, allowing
himself to loosen his restraint and begin his own climb towards
release. Waves of excitement and sexual heat rippled through her
spine and focused on her vagina as his penis stroked her insides
faster and faster: her clitoris seemed to reach out to him and was
rewarded with a throbbing assault by his pelvic bones. His testicles
slapped against her with every thrust, and the backs of her thighs
and her buttocks were brushed and tickled by his thick nest of pubic
hair.
Breathing heavily, and hearing his blood scream in his ears,
Patrick forced himself to hold back until he felt her vagina
constrict against him, proof of her own orgasm. It was vitally
important to him to make this good for Amelia, and watching the look
on her face as she climaxed would enhance his own enjoyment. She was
caught up in the incredibly fast pace of their lovemaking, and was
thrusting back as strongly and eagerly as he. The seeming innocence
in her eyes created the strangest sensation of longing in him, made
him want to hold her forever and satisfy her every desire; that last
he could do, obviously -- he grinned, then grimaced as a spark of
urgency spurred him on to even more furious lunges.
"Pat, I'm cumming...I'm cumming!" shrieked Amelia, clawing him
to her and locking him between her legs. She bucked and pushed
against his back, driving him even further inside her. His testicles
demanded release, and he drove into her with a shudder.
"Amelia...so good...oh, God, Amelia..." he breathed as he felt
his semen shoot through the tip of his penis and into her quaking
vagina. They lay tangled together until they fell asleep.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Good morning, sleepyhead." Patrick whispered into Amelia's
ear. It would soon be time to be made up for the morning's filming
and his sixth sense for time had awoken him on schedule. Her
honey-colored hair fanned across her cheek, and he brushed it away as
- 8 -
she opened her eyes. She saw him and smiled, then stretched and
looked for all the world like a sleepy kitten.
"Hmm...I almost thought last night was just a dream, Patrick.
I feel so *good* this morning!" she purred, "...and hungry." as an
afterthought.
"Well, you should be hungry, after all that exercise." he
teased.
"I never would have believed it would be like this if anyone
had told me...I'd always heard it would be painful." mused Amelia.
With a start Patrick turned: "You're not telling me this was
your first time?" The incredulity on his face made her laugh.
"Yes, Patrick, you `deflowered' me!" quipped she with much
amusement.
"Oh, Amelia, I'm sorry -- I had no idea, you should have told
me -"
"Patrick," she interrupted, "I wanted you as much as you
wanted me. I still want to be with you, to go out with you, to stay
in with you. I like what you taught me about myself, and I appreciate
the fact that you were gentle even though you didn't know I'd never
done it before. I guess I've just never wanted to before...you're the
only man I've ever been this comfortable with and I don't want you to
feel guilty about making me feel good!"
With a slow smile Patrick held out his arms and she snuggled
against him eagerly. "I suppose I'm too old-fashioned to take the
surrender of your virginity that lightly. I like you, Amelia, and
that could turn into something more with time. And Heaven knows we
have time!"
"You never know...but I'd like to have you teach me about some
of the finer points of lovemaking. I'm sure I can be a good pupil."
she said as she pulled away and started to rise; "Why don't we
practice again tonight?"
"You know, they say you're a natural..."
--
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