Erotica (the collected works of Amelie) (3 page)

It wasn’t until she pictured Craig’s father
that she finally climaxed. The thought of his handsome face above hers and his
Italian voice muttering sweet nothings to her all the while was too much for
her to bear. That and Craig’s nimble fingers on her clit.

Skye skipped to work the next day and
the day after that.

Each time she appeared, Mario would admire
her and would tell her just how beautiful she looked.

He noticed everything – the way she wore
her hair, the colour of her nails, the length of her skirt, the tone of her
lipstick and the pattern on her stockings and she loved the way he paid
attention. It drove her crazy.

Christmas Eve felt different.

Mario wasn’t his usual cool, collected
self. He couldn’t sit still and kept looking at the clock like he had something
important ahead of him. It was as if he’d become a child waiting for Father
Christmas to arrive.

Skye hadn’t helped him focus either. She’d
chosen to wear fishnet stockings and her shortest skirt for the occasion. Her
top was tight fitting and tiny rips in the fabric revealed tantalising patches
of skin. She’d gelled her hair into tiny spikes and wore her favourite black
lipstick.

The shop was doing great business and the
bell on the door hardly stopped ringing as people dashed in and out for the
late stocking-filler, which was why it didn’t make sense to Skye that he went
to the door at midday and turned the sign in the window to Closed. He pulled
down the shutters and turned the key then turned around slowly.

“Come with me, I have a present for you.”

Skye took his hand as he went through into
the stock room and then up the stairs into the house above.

“Shouldn’t we be open?” she asked. “We were
making a mint.”

“Some things are more important than
money,” was all he said and he led her to the sofa in the living room.

Skye sat down and looked at the present on
the coffee table. It was beautifully wrapped in silver paper with delicate bows
on the top.

“Open it while I get the champagne.”

Mario went into the kitchen and then
reappeared with a bottle and two glasses.

While he popped the cork and filled the
glasses, Skye watched the foam spill out on to the table and felt a little
dizzy at the thought of all the bubbles.

She looked at the gift before her and found
herself unable to pick it up. It was so perfect the way it was that unwrapping
it could only spoil the moment.

“Happy Christmas,” Mario said and passed
over a one of the glasses. “Cheers.”

They both drank quickly and emptied their
glasses.

Mario refilled them and Skye picked up the
package and slipped a long, shiny fingernail under the wrapping and sliced the
tape with ease.

Inside the parcel was a black box.

She took off the lid and was greeted with a
cloud of tissue paper.

When she took out the tissue she found Love
Heart sweets filling the bottom.

“They’re personal,” Mario said, “and your
wish is my command.”

Skye picked one up. ‘Screw me’ it said.
Another. ‘Lick me’.

A shiver ran down her spine and she felt
the shudder of fear and excitement in her heart.

There were others. ‘Bite me’; ‘Whip me’;
‘Anal’; ‘Head; ‘Feathers’; ‘Role Play’.

Skye dropped her head into her hands and
began to weep, tiny sobs escaping into the room.

Mario sat down clumsily beside her and put
his arm around her shoulders.

“Darling, I’m so sorry. I thought you
wanted it, too. How foolish I am. A foolish, lonely, old man. Please forgive
me.”

When Skye looked up, her nose was running
and her black make-up had run to form tiny spider’s webs over her cheeks. She
looked up, saw the concern on Mario’s face and laughed. She leaned forward,
hugged him and pulled back.

“It’s the nicest present I’ve ever had,”
she told him.

She reached forwards and put her arms
around his neck, leaned in and put her lips onto his.

Their kiss was tender and gentle and when
their tongues me, it was as if two serpents were dancing with joy.

The bubbles of the champagne worked
themselves into Skye’s head, her thoughts fizzing with excitement.

After a minute she pulled away and looked
into the box. Her finger rooted around for a while until she found the one she
wanted.

“My wish.” She picked up one of the sweets
and handed it over.

“Tie me,” Mario read. “An excellent choice.
Would Madame care to follow me to the bedroom?”

Madame was all too happy to do so.

She lay on the bed and let Mario unlace her
boots. He took his time about it, stroking her thigh every so often and kissing
her knees.

Once they were off, she slipped back onto
the bed and put her hands over her head, assuming the position.

Mario took a handful of liquorice laces and
cola whips from the drawer in the bedside cabinet, then took Skye’s hands
firmly and placed them onto the top bar of the metal frame of the headboard.

With great skill, he wound the whips around
her wrists and had them tied together within moments.

Next he moved down to her legs, which he
parted with ease. Taking her by the ankles, he twisted the liquorice around
them and tied them, one each, to the corner posts and the foot of the bed.

Skye felt the pulse in her temple throb and
the pace of her breathing increase as he worked. She licked away the beads of
sweat that were forming on her top lip and enjoyed their salty tang.

The last thing she saw of the event was
Mario approaching with the blindfold. He put it gently over her head and eyes
and then whispered something Italian into her ear. Skye had no idea what he’d
said, but it seemed to raise the room temperature by a couple of degrees.

There was silence for a moment as Mario
went over to his CD player. He pressed play and waited for Rodriguez to sing.
Sugerman. It was the perfect song for the act of seduction.

Mario peeled Skye’s top until it rested
just above her spiked hair, in the process revealing tiny breasts with nipples
that were perfectly round. He noticed the lipstick she’d put there. Maybe she
been expecting something like this, he thought. The deep red reminded him of
cherries on the trees back home and he bend down to lick and bite and tease
them into his mouth. Skye sucked in a huge breath and arched her back and Mario
backed away.

There were more treats in the bedside
cabinet.

A sherbet dib-dab came out first.

Mario opened the pack and sprinkled the
sherbet in a line going straight from Skye’s belly button to her throat, then
piled the remainder on top of her nipples.

Next came an Irn Bru cream which he fed to
her teasingly. Skye’s tongue reached for the sugar a licked it in the way she
hoped Mario might soon be doing to her cunt.

With a pair of scissors, Mario set about
removing Skye’s lace panties.

When Skye heard the snips, she almost cried
out for him to stop. These were her favourite knickers. She’d worn them
especially, just in case. What the hell did he think he was doing?

She stifled the cry and instead only
managed a gasp of pleasure. She’d never given herself up so totally before and
it felt completely liberating.

With the panties removed, Mario was free to
do what he wanted.

He touched her clit for a moment and
watched her arch. Slipping his finger down, he stroked her labia then pushed
his fingers in. First one, then two and a third. Widening the gap between his
fingers and flexing them drove her crazy – she imagined a wild creature inside
her and allowed herself to find pleasure with every move.

When she was good and wet, Mario parted the
lips of her pussy and sprinkled it with popping candy.

Tiny crackles filled the air and Skye loved
each explosion, feeling as though she was being taken by a force of nature. The
warm tingles spread though her body and she smiled at how ridiculously good
things felt. Why the hell had she never tried it on herself? It was amazing.

From the cupboard came a sugar dummy and a
bottle of golden syrup.

The dummy he put down for a while as he got
on with spreading the syrup around on Skye’s body, as if inspired by Pollock.
He swirled it over her breasts, onto her lips, across her hips and down to her
anus.

After he put the bottle down, he took his
index finger and traced the rim of her anus and worked the sticky moisture
inside the muscle. When he seemed happy, he took the sugar dummy and pushed it
in. At first he was slow. Skye felt a flash of pain and a wave of doubt took
over her. The next sensation was altogether different, though, and the doubt
was washed away with a tide of pleasure that passed straight from her ass to
her brain.

“My God,” she cried. “Yes please. Yes
please.”

Mario kept the dummy moving with his left
hand.

With his right, he took the lolly from the
dib-dab and circled the strawberry candy around her clit. It drove Skye wild.

“Fuck,” was all she could say, and when the
lolly entered her pussy and pushed up she could only manage, “Oh fuck, oh
fuck.”

The pleasure was intense. She wanted to see
what was going on and tried to roll the blindfold away from her eyes, but she
couldn’t get enough of a grip between her head and her arm and had to give up.
Somehow it only made things feel more special. She felt the nerves in her clit
burn with joy at every touch.

Mario took the lolly out and rolled it
along the sherbet trail he’d put there earlier.

When it was covered in powder, he took it
to Skye’s mouth and gave her a good lick. It tasted divine, of sugar and
strawberry and sex.

He kept going until the lolly had almost
gone.

The dummy stopped working in her ass.

Mario stood and undressed.

This was what Skye really wanted to see,
but she was limited to her imagination. The wiry hair of his chest. The strong
muscles of his stomach. The huge, erect cock reaching out for her and needing
to penetrate her right then and there.

Mario took a condom packet to his mouth and
tore the foil wrapper with his teeth.

He removed the sheath and rolled it gently
over his penis. It was hard and ready.

Taking his time to find his position, he
straddled Skye and lowered his cock to her mouth.

She flicked her tongue at it as soon as she
knew he was there. Licked it with thrusts like a snake tasting the air. Tasted
the rubber and the chocolate of the condom and felt like melting.

She licked until he dropped lower and
inserted his bell end into her mouth. As he rocked to and fro she sucked for
all she was worth, concentrating her lips on the tiny, sensitive bumps to give
maximum pleasure.

Instead of bursting into her mouth, Mario
took himself out and moved lower. He slipped himself into her pussy and began.

It was a move she’d read about. Ten tiny
thrusts and one deep. Nine tiny, one deep. Eight tiny, one deep and so on. All
the things she’d heard were bang on. He was into his third sequence when she
came for the first time. It was like no orgasm she’d had before. It took over
her whole body and for a moment or two, her mind shut down completely. She
imagined herself leaving her body and looking at herself being fucked, seeing
the tightness of Mario’s ass and the muscle tone of his shoulders. It made her
want to return to her body so that she could shudder again.

Once her orgasm subsided, Mario seemed to
forget himself.

There was no more controlled entry, just a
rampant surge of energy. He worked her hard and fast until finally he was
almost there.

“Cum with me now,” he said, ripping off the
blindfold and revealing her beautiful eyes.

They looked at each other. Shared something
of themselves and then came at the same time like some kind of synchronised
machine.

Mario rolled off and collapsed into the
pillow.

The pair lay breathing heavily, their
fingers laced together tightly with neither of them wanting to let go.

It was only when they became still that
Skye began to feel uneasy.

What the hell was she going to do?

She couldn’t possibly finish with Craig.
Not after all he’d done for her.

And she couldn’t bear the idea of missing
out on such great sex with his father either.

Not to mention the prospect of sharing
tomorrow’s Christmas dinner with the two horniest men she’d ever met.

At least she wouldn’t have to face a
turkey. Being vegetarian had its blessings and she was sure she’d had enough of
a stuffing already to make up for what her men might be missing.

It was the fear of not enjoying sex like
she’d just had that scared her most of all. The panic rose to the surface and seemed
to grab hold of her insides.

Just then, Mario stirred. He reached over
and kissed her nipples, licking off some of the syrup.

He moved up to her lips and took the
sweetness from them.

He let his tongue tickle her arms as he
moved on up to the laces and began to nibble them and set her free.

Skye immediately relaxed.

She looked at the cock that was in front of
her face, brown like the rest of his leathered skin and hardening with every
moment.

She remembered the box full of promises
that she’d been given for Christmas. It had at least another twenty in there.
Maybe it wasn’t something she’d have to be worrying about after all.

She let Mario chew away at her bonds as she
stretched her mouth over and took his cock.

This time she tasted no sugar. This time
all she tasted was man.

the
end

and
the beginning ;)

L
ast night was amazing. It was as if I’d
finally graduated from the school of love. Just the thought of it makes me gasp
as I lie here in the bed among the stains, the ropes and the horny scents. My
room’s never been such a clutter, letters spread all over the floor and my
clothes crumpled into uneven piles, yet I’ve never felt so incredibly
satisfied. It’s as if I’ve finally graduated from the school of love. God, if
this were tennis, this morning is game set and match.

I remember the first games of love.

They were cute. Innocent. Fun. Running
around the playground in our summer dresses being chased by boys, none of us
more than 5 years old. I can’t remember the rules exactly. The boys would chase
us and we’d try to get away. When they couldn’t catch us and started to give
up, we’d run closer and taunt them. “Hah, you can’t catch me,” and they’d come
after us with renewed energy.

When they did get us, they’d drag us to a
place. Sometimes it was the picnic bench and others the wall. When we got
there, they’d let go to chase someone else and we’d wait to be saved by other
girls in the game.

We played that on every playtime for weeks
in the summer term. They were such happy times.

By the next year, we’d moved on.  Kiss
chase was the new black. I can’t remember much about the rules of that either.
Everything was the same as the game we played when we were 5, except now we
were 6 the boys kissed us when they caught us or we kissed them when it was our
turn on catch.  Course, we all pretended to hate being kissed and doing the
kissing, but that was just part of the game. If we’d pretended it was nice to
be close to boys, I don’t suppose it would have been much fun for any of us.

When we were 7, I think we went our
separate ways for a while. Instead of playing with the boys we’d tease them.
Handstands against the wall and showing our knickers was about as far as we
went and if any boy came near or said anything they’d be chased off by a pack
of us who snarled and spat at them like vixens.

The next stage I missed out on. ‘You show
me yours and I’ll show you mine’ went on in the darker corners of building and,
when we were allowed to play on the grass, in the bushes at the end of the
field. I never went near that one. I remember wanting to, especially when David
Bath went into the bushes with Emily Steele, but I didn’t have the guts.  Mum
would have killed me for even thinking about going and she seemed to inhabit me
even when we were apart, existing as my conscience for many years to come.

That conscience stayed with me through my
teens. I would have led a sheltered life if it hadn’t been for alcohol. I found
that a drink or two seemed to blind the angel on my shoulder and let me get
away with one or two things. The best thing about the booze was that when we’d
finished we could spin the bottle.

First time we ever did it, there were 4
boys and 4 girls. We sat in a circle and promised faithfully we’d kiss whoever
the bottle pointed at.

David Bath was there. So was Emily Steele.

David took the first spin and it sped off
like it might go into orbit. Then it slowed and bumped and I willed the bottle
to point to me as hard as I could, until the pressure behind my eyes made my
head hurt.  The bottle didn’t pay me any attention and came to rest pointing at
a girl called Gloria.

The two of them got close as the rest of
them wolf-whistled and cheered. David and Gloria started nervously, but before
long they had their tongues in each other’s mouths. They span their tongues way
too fast, but we didn’t know any better. It seemed to go on for an age, but
they finally stopped when they needed to get some air.

David winked at Gloria and Gloria blushed.
After that the two of them became an item. I heard a lot later that David was
killed in Afghan and Gloria runs a flower shop somewhere.

Whatever.

The bottle missed me every time and the
only kiss I was going to get would come from my own spin of the bottle.

I closed my eyes before I did it and made a
wish.  Even if David had snogged the lips of Gloria, I reckoned that if I got
the last laugh, it would also be the longest.

When I span, the bottle just bumbled and
bobbled on the stones. It barely made 2 turns before stopping. And it pointed
at Lynne Jones.

Lynne bloody Jones.

How unfair was that?

Six months earlier it might have been OK,
but since her acne had taken over her face and her poor eyesight had been
remedied by spectacles, she was the ugliest girl in our crowd.

I remember the way she took off her glasses
and put them in her pocket before stepping over sheepishly.

We got close to each other and I tried to
blot out the noise of the whistling chorus in the background.

I hadn’t thought about tactics, but a quick
peck seemed like the best way to get it over with.

I leaned in with my chin pointing slightly
upwards on account of her extra height, expecting it to be all over in a
moment.

Instead, when she moved in, she caught me
off guard. Her arms caught me around my back so that there was to be no getting
away. All I could see were the scarlet tops of her spots and I dreaded catching
them from her.  And then her lips touched mine and started moving.

In spite of myself, my lips moved to her
rhythm. Her mouth was warm and moist.

When her tongue moved delicately into my
mouth, I met it with my own and let her tickle and tease. I don’t know exactly
what happened, but he cheering seemed to disappear and all I could feel was the
heat of her mouth, the silky velvet touch of her skin and the butterflies that
were flapping their wings wildly in my stomach.

Our embrace finally came to an end and when
I looked at Lynne she smiled sweetly at me and gave my hand a little squeeze. 

That’s when I heard the jeering and the
shouting again. The crowd were delighted.

“What a pair of lezzers,” David Bath
shouted, pointing at me and everyone joined in with their teasing.

From that day, when people at school wanted
to rile me they’d call me Lezzy. How imaginative! I was only Lesley when they
wanted something or to my real friends. I shagged half of the boys in our class
to try and shake the tag, but it didn’t work. Thing is I’ve grown to like my
name. Everyone calls me Lez. It’s the way I introduce myself.

The incident with the bottle put me off the
games thing for a while.

It wasn’t until my final year at university
that I could be persuaded into playing again.

We were drunk when it happened. We were
always drunk that year.

I was single for a while and working hard
on getting a first class degree, or at least I was working hard in the day
time.

By night, I was like a different person.

I collected boys like some collect stamps
or antiques or coins.

The clubs were amazing. I’d pick up someone
for a snog every time I went out. I even went so far as counting them as I added
them to my book. One hundred and fifty three was the total in the final year
for snogs. Twenty-five for blow jobs and a definite sixteen for sex. I say a
definite sixteen – it might have been seventeen after my night with Lou Johnson
from the History Department (we woke up naked together in his bed a couple of
times, but I never could remember what had actually happened).

Anyway, this one night I was out with
Cheryl. Cheryl was a wild chick with crazy black hair that pointed in all
directions and a figure that was the envy of all the girls. She could eat
whatever she liked – pies, pizzas, cakes – and never put on an ounce. Her waist
was so thin that I could put my hand around it. I had no idea about her drug
habit then and only found out at the graduation that she’d died of an overdose
in Paris.

Cheryl and I were out dancing and two guys
moved in on us. They were classy, fun-looking men, their hair slicked back
underneath straw pork-pie hats and their Hawaiian shirts opened just enough to
reveal a little hair on their chests.  Their legs moved like rubber to the
rhythm of the music and as their hips swayed I could see the shape of their
cocks in their trousers every so often – very impressive.  In their hands they
held long glasses full of pink cocktails and they didn’t spill a drop as they
swayed.

We fell for them straight away and danced
closer and closer until there was nothing in between us other than our
clothes.  It was inevitable we’d be going back with them to their rooms, but it
still wasn’t clear who would split with whom.

They took us to their house and we had a
little party for four. They played some groovy tunes and we danced like crazy.

After a while, one of the men suggested a
little game. Strip Poker. Just for the hell of it.

Cheryl was as up for it as I was and we
agreed, even if neither of us had played poker before.

The guys explained the rules – I couldn’t
tell you what they were now – and we kept on drinking.

It was decided that we’d play as pairs.
We’d share one hand and so would they. On the losing team, both players were to
remove something.

We sat with our cards and tried to fathom
whether the two pairs I had beat the three of a kind in their hand.

It didn’t seem to matter what we thought
was going on because we mostly lost.

The first rounds were easy. A shoe off here
and there, a necklace and a bracelet.

It was only when we were down to bras and
panties that it seemed serious.

I liked the way Cheryl looked. It was the
first time I’d seen her without clothes. Her bra and pants were matching, pale
blue lace that was practically transparent. I noticed that her pussy had been
trimmed neatly so that there wasn’t a hair to be seen outside of the elastic.
Her tits looked like they’d have held firm without the bra – her small, pink
nipples pushed hard against the fabric as if they were longing to escape.

Next to her, I looked like a second class
citizen. My underwear didn’t match and there was a little wet patch in the
front of my panties from where I must have got over-heated by the look of
Cheryl’s cunt.

The boys were still in tee shirts and
pants.

Their legs were muscled and covered in
manly hair. Their shirts were vibrant and bright in the light of the candles.
Their cocks strained against their pants and looked pretty ferocious from where
I was sitting.

The next hand looked promising to me.  A
run of cards – Ace, 2, 3, 4, 5. A straight I think they’d told us.

I wasn’t sure whether I wanted a good hand
or not. I was dying to see those broad chests on the other side exposed, but
the thought of seeing Cheryl’s breasts had me getting hotter than a jalapeno.

We put the cards on the rug between us.

They showed a 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. Another
straight. A better one, they said.

“Off with them,” I remember one of them
saying.

I was too pissed to care about my own
nakedness. My bra was off straight away, the straps dropping over my arms and
to the floor in seconds. Without my bra I felt liberated and ready. My tits got
a round of applause.

Cheryl, she was so much better at it than
me. So seductive. She dropped one strap first and it rested in the crook of her
elbow. She dropped the other and it did the same. Her arms reached behind her
back and I watched her in motion as she released the catch.

She was a classy girl. When the catch was
loose, her arms came forward to catch her cups and prevent them from falling.
That delay, that moment of teasing made me breathe in sharply.

When she finally revealed her breasts, I
stopped breathing altogether.

They were perfect. Firm and round with pert
nipples and a curve underneath them that no architect could ever manage to
recreate.

I couldn’t resist the urge.

The sight of the cocks of the men and of
Cheryl naked had me going crazy.

My hand was stroking her breast before I
could stop it. I traced around her areola feeling the hard bumps of her
excitement.

Cheryl didn’t flinch.

I cupped a breast in my hand and squeezed
gently. It was like nothing I’d ever felt before. Firm, yes, but soft and
giving like it was inviting me to play.

And then we were kissing.

Our tongues met and flicked at each other
hungrily.

As we kissed, I felt a pair of strong arms
on my legs. The fingers stroked my toes and moved up across my knees, up my
thighs and then to the heat between my legs.

The fingers gripped at my pants and tugged
them down, then returned to stroke my pubic hair and work their way in ever
decreasing circles to my clit.

I kept my mind on Cheryl and her lovely
tits while one of the men slipped his tongue into my pussy.

Cheryl and I broke away from each other for
a moment and looked down.

Each of us had a fit male head bobbing up
and down between our thighs. Cheryl gasped. So did I.

We looked at each other and smiled, then
returned to our kissing and fondling.

She pinched my nipples just as my man took
his tongue to my clit. The double attack was far too much for my defences. The
orgasm I had was crazy, skipping around inside me so that I jolted as if I’d
put my fingers into an electric socket.

Cheryl took my orgasm as a sign and
thrashed around at the same time. Her joy burst into my mouth as she moaned
into me. That just sent another tingle around me.

The boys pulled at us. Moved us apart. For
a moment I was disappointed, but the truth is I needed some cock.

Mine came up and pushed my legs back with
his shoulders until they were tilting over my head. His cock was inside me
without hesitation and the angle he had me at meant he got in real deep. It was
just what I needed.

His mouth covered mine. I tasted the vodka
he’d been drinking and the musk from my own pussy. I wondered if that was the
flavour of the nectar of the gods.