Erotica (the collected works of Amelie) (5 page)

Bless him. He thought he’d done it all by
himself.

“I believe that you owe me 2 minutes,” he
said.  I perked up at the thought, wondering what kind of crazy things he might
ask me to do.

He reached down, picked up his bag and
rummaged around in there for a while.

I had a vision of the water-buffalo, of a
whip and a mask and another week of pain when I went to the toilet. Things
didn’t seem so fun all of a sudden and I felt a shudder pass from the bottom of
my spine to the top.

When he brought out his hand, he must have
seen the relief on my face because he bent over and stroked my cheek as if to
reassure me.

In his hand was a bar of chocolate.

“For the next 2 minutes, I’d like you to
put this inside and fuck yourself silly.”

“Sure.” I said it straight away as if the
idea was something I’d had many times before.

I stood up and unzipped my jeans the
wriggled out from them. I picked them up and folded them and put them over the
bed frame for the morning.

Next, I lowered my panties. I did it slowly
at first, made sure he could see that I’d trimmed myself for the occasion. When
I got them to my knees, I whipped them off fast and lay back into the pillows.

Roger handed me the chocolate and I spread
my legs.

I wasn’t sure how easy the bar would be to
get in, so to be on the safe side, I started with my clit. Small, gentle
circles to make sure I was plenty hot enough.

Roger’s face was pure concentration, his
forehead furrowed and his eye-brows raised. “You know the clock doesn’t start
until the chocolate’s inside, don’t you?”

I nodded. It was all I could manage –
having him watch me play with my pussy was pretty horny and I was struggling to
keep from climaxing straight away.

A little more circling and I put the
chocolate in.

It wasn’t as warm as a cock or as smooth.
In fact, the corners made things a little unpleasant for a moment. The beauty
of me being so excited was that I was hot as hell down there. I could feel the
edges melt as I pushed it in and drew it slowly out, the bar becoming smoother
and more slippery with every thrust.

As it got smaller, I pushed further until I
thought I was in danger of losing the whole bar in there. That was when Roger
put his mouth down and licked my fingers.  He used his hand to take mine away
and took a bite from the bar. That was it for me. I climaxed right then,
letting my vagina spasm without any care for what would get left behind.  It
was such a sweet pleasure that it went on for ages.

By the time I came back round, there was
Roger licking his lips, removing the chocolate from his bristles. What a turn
on!

In all the excitement, I almost missed it.
My next word. Medicates, joining the free M to the S from Secretly. All my
letters in the 1 go, what were the chances of that?

He knew I’d broken the 50 points mark and I
could tell he was excited.

Thing was, I hadn’t planned anything.
Thankfully, he’d made things easy. The melted chocolate inside me wasn’t
feeling too nice – it was like being coated in goose-fat or something. “That
chocolate,” I said.  “You’ve got 2 minutes to lick it out.”

He took his time getting there. First he
kissed my toes, then he licked me all the way up the inside of my legs.

“Remember,” I told him, “the two minutes
won’t start until you’re licking me clean.”

He didn’t take his tongue from the inside
of my thigh, but I saw his nod anyway.

When he finally got there, it felt divine. 
He stroked my insides with his tongue, cleaning all the while, lapping up the
chocolate.  His throat made little moaning growls which made his lips vibrate
around my cunt and setting my clit on fire. His nose slipped between my labia
easily, the moisture like oil on my body.

I didn’t tell him when the 2 minutes were
up, just let him carry on until he was done.

When he finally raised his head, he came up
and kissed me full on the lips.

Yummy.

Thankfully we had a few low scoring rounds
after that.

He hit another 50 pointer when he found
quiver (with a little help from yours truly, obviously).  A triple-letter-score
for the Q and a double word as well and he was thrashing me.

This time all he wanted was for me to play
with my tits for a while.

Now, playing with my tits is something I’m
happy to do any day of the week. Somehow, I wanted to make it feel a bit
special.

I worked slowly, circling my nipples and
then pinching them hard. The pain of each nip made my stomach ripple with
pleasure.  I gritted my teeth and carried on until they couldn’t take it
anymore.

Easing off for a while, I took the each
breast in a hand and squeezed. It felt like I was kneading dough and if Roger
hadn’t been there drooling, I wouldn’t have bothered.

The piece de la resistance was my tongue.

I stretched it as far out of my mouth as I
could, but I was short by a couple of centimetres.

My hands pushed as hard as they could to
force my tits up. Somehow I pulled it off. My nipple and tongue met for the
first time and I couldn’t believe I’d never made that extra effort before. It
was perfect, being able to send the silky smooth tongue into all the right
places at the right times.

No doubt Roger forgot about his timing.

I didn’t care. For me, our timing was
perfect.

As soon as I stopped, he fell on top of me
and thrust his cock inside me.

He pushed hard but was gentle, reaching
right in to me one minute, then hitting my G-spot the next.

We came together like singers in a choir,
our harmonies making the perfect sound.

Somewhere in the middle of the action, the
board was tossed onto the floor and all the letters were scattered around the
carpet like casualties of a militant classroom.

It was game over, not that it really
mattered. I was spent and so, by the feel of things, was he. We held each other
tight until our panting became shallow breathing and until his breathing became
wispy snores.

Before he left this morning he told me
about his other idea. He even had a skipping rope in his bag to prove his line
of thought. A little bondage and blindfolding would have come my way if he’d
scored another 50.

Never mind, I told him as I kissed him
sleepily to say goodbye. There’s always next weekend.

So I’m lying here, mindlessly playing with
my clit and mulling over all these things and wondering why last night was so
special.

There have been bigger men and harder
fucks. I’ve had more danger and excitement in my life. I’ve been with guys for
longer and I’ve let them do anything they fancied.

I guess the difference this time is the way
my heart feels.

Maybe it’s the love thing, the first time
I’ve actually made love rather than scratched my lusty itches.

Next time he comes over, I’m going to bake
him a heart-shaped cake and get some massage oils in. If he throws in the
ropes, who knows what will happen?

––––––––

the
end

and
the beginning ;)

T
he limo was pink and stretched from
Penny’s terraced house at number 15 to the door of number 25.

10 women emerged in procession from Penny’s
and danced their way into the car. The chauffeur held open the passenger door,
his cap tilted to one side, his tie slightly crooked and his sleeveless shirt
revealing the tight lines of his enormous biceps. He smiled at each of them in
turn and did a fine job of looking sultry and available as he did so.

The hen party wore their uniform with
pride, the Penny’s Henny tee shirts tight across their chests, the gold and
silver deely-boppers bouncing as they skipped, the shorts practically
non-existent and the high heels a bugger to walk on.

There were cries and whoops as they got
into their seats, leather and soft and fit for far more regal behinds than
their own.

Polly popped open the champagne. Jenny
pinched the chauffeur’s ass and decided that she’d like to do a further
inspection of his rock-hard buttocks later on in the evening. Liz and Pepsi
giggled as they carried each other along, already too pissed to walk
unassisted. Marge adjusted her bra cups so that it didn’t look like she had
muffin-top tits. Anne and Shirley looked at each other and touched hands when
they thought nobody could see them. Peaches gave the chauffeur a full on snog
on the lips when she went past, determined to better Jenny and leaving the
driver looking like a clown with his new lipstick face; her parting shot was a
tiny lick of his lips to make sure he understood what might be on offer. Uma
sucked on her cigarette so hard that it was almost done in the one puff. And
Penny?

Penny watched on and wondered how the hell
she was going to survive the evening without it turning into an utter disaster.
She wanted to bite her nails, but she’d had them fixed on earlier and didn’t
fancy wasting the money she’d spent. Instead, she pulled her long, black hair
back from her face and hobbled along in her 4 inch heals with her ass swishing
from side to side in a manner that gave her elderly mother palpitations as she
waved them all off from behind the net curtains of home.

As the driver pulled off, there were more
whoops and cheers from the rear.

Champagne corks popped, cocktails flowed
and Uma stuck out of the window so she could finish her cigarette.

After two hours of circling Newcastle City
Centre with the music turned to full blast and the women taking it in turns to
stand out through the sunroof so that they could shout at any fit men they
happened to pass, they finally arrived at Duncan’s Bar.

The procession from the car to the club had
all the energy of a carnival and filled the night with the scents of a heady
mixture of perfumes.

Peaches had made it her mission to be the
last in the line.

As the girls disappeared into the club, she
double-backed and caught the chauffeur by the tie just before he managed to
closed the door.

She pulled him close, kissed him on the
lips and bundled him into the back of the car.

Lying on top of him, she pulled the door
closed with the heel of her stiletto and waited for it to slam.

While Peaches kissed frantically at his
neck, the chauffeur pressed the buttons to close all the windows so that nobody
would be able to see the action. He pressed another button and the seat right
at the back of the car transformed itself into a double bed.

“Bloody hell,” Peaches said, “You do know
how to charm a woman.”

The chauffeur didn’t talk. Instead, he was
far more interested in finding out what Peaches had under her clothes.

When he unpinged her bra, he decided that
she had been unfairly named. His hands groped at her tits and barely managed to
cover them. Melons might have been a better name, or Grapefruits at the very
least, but what the hell. He nuzzled into her flesh and bit at her nipples
until they were pert.

Peaches let out a little moan. “Ooh, you dirty
bugger.”

She rubbed her hands over his biceps and
then his forearms. They were so big and hard that her pussy moistened at the
thought of what his other muscles might be like.

The buttons on his shirt weren’t easy to
take off. Peaches ripped impatiently at them until the material tore and his
chest was free.

“My God,” she said at the sight of his
ripped chest. He had a light spread of hair over his tanned skin and his
nipples were small and dark. She ran her hands along his muscles and then down
to his stomach, which felt as hard as a brick wall. She couldn’t wait to get to
his cock.

The chauffeur had given up on her breasts
and was focusing on removing her shorts and panties. Course, with Peaches
getting carried away and straddling him like she was restraining a prisoner, it
wasn’t easy. She had to stand up and remove them herself.

First she undid the top button of her
shorts, then she wriggled until they passed her thighs and fell to her ankles,
at which point she kicked them off.

Next it was the thong.

Peaches pulled at the side strings and let
the fabric tighten against her clit. It gave her a little buzz and she
shuddered. Then she whipped them off.

The chauffeur sat up and took a closer
look. Her Brazilian had been perfectly sculpted earlier that day. In the middle
of the thin strip of hair, her mound seemed to rise towards him so that he
couldn’t resist a little taste. His tongue got to work on her clit, hungrily
licking and tasting so that Peaches writhed in pleasure and had to push her
back hard against the roof to stop herself from falling over.

He stopped just a little too soon for her
to climax and took her hand.

As he led her to the newly formed bed,
Peaches admired his prefect body and couldn’t wait to see that little bit more.

She lay back on the bed, spread her legs
and gave herself a little tickle.

The chauffeur dropped his trousers with one
hand and took a condom packet to his mouth with the other so he could rip it
open with his teeth.

When she saw his dick, she could have
cried. It was about the only part of his body that didn’t seem to have been
built up. It was long enough, but she’d seen thicker pencils. Still, she was so
horny it was going to have to do.

He wasted no time in entering her, not that
she really felt it.

His hips thrust back and forth like he was
an athlete and Peaches admired the six-pack as it tensed and relaxed. The only
thing was, it wasn’t really doing anything for her.

She spread her legs as wide as she could so
that she was touching each of the sides of the limo and was practically doing
the splits. It was the move that saved the day. At least now she could feel him
banging against her clitoris and sending waves of pleasure to her brain.

When he pinched her nipples it did the
trick. Her body spasmed to orgasm and she cried into the night.

That seemed enough for the chauffeur. He
creamed into the tip of his condom and pulled a face like he’d just managed to
relieve himself of a month’s constipation.

Peaches didn’t stand on ceremony.

As soon as the man’s face returned to
something like normal, she was up and pulling on her clothes as if there was a
fire evacuation.

“Thanks love,” she said as she kissed him
and opened the door. “It was special.” Peaches believed that a little white lie
didn’t do any harm every now and again, so she used them all the time.

She blew a final kiss, slammed the door
shut so that the queuing clubbers didn’t get too much of an eyeful and went
with shaking legs to the doorman who recognised the uniform and let her in
immediately.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Penny
shouted into Peaches’ ear. “You’re supposed to be in charge.”

Peaches straightened her clothes, kissed
the bride and shouted back, “Want a drink?”

Penny thought she heard a slur in her
maid-of-honour’s words. Thought she could see that wild look in her eyes.
Imagined that Peaches would have been taking pills again, or worse still, not
taking the ones she was supposed to take.  “Water. Sparkling water please.” At
least if Penny could keep herself straight, she could stay in control.

Peaches pulled a face at the very idea of a
non-alcoholic drink, but managed to hide the fact that she was pissed off
pretty well. Penny was always taking the safe way, which was probably why she
was the first of them all to get married. Peaches kissed the bride-to-be again
and be and wandered over to the bar.

When Peaches returned with the drinks,
Penny was sitting down rubbing her temples while the rest of the gang pranced
in a huge circle on the dance-floor.

“Wha’s wrong?” Peaches asked as she put the
water in front of her friend.

“Headache,” Penny told her.

“Wait a minute, I’ve just the thing.”

Peaches opened up her sparkly, blue purse
and rooted around inside for a moment. She saw the condoms that she was hoping
to use later on a guy with a girth worth shouting about, her comb, cash,
makeup, money, ecstasy tab and headache pills. Before she could decide whether
it was a good idea or not, she’d taken the ‘E’ and one of the pills and handed
them over. “Here. They’ll do you good. Can’t have you coming down on your big
night now, can we?”

Penny put the pills onto the back of her
tongue and swallowed them down with the last of her old drink. “Ta, love.
You’re a good ‘un.”

Peaches reached out for Penny’s had and
pulled her up. “Let’s get some action going,” she said, and then the pair
joined their mates in a hip-rolling number that none of them had ever heard
before.

For the next hour, the girls dominated the
place. Pretty much everyone in the club had been roped in at some point to
gyrate along with the hens.

Anne and Shirley had mostly stayed
together. They’d danced closer and closer to each other and could barely stop
looking into each other’s eyes.

Anne bent over and talked through Shirley’s
long, blond hair into her ear. “Are you still up for it?”

“Not sure.” Shirley looked worried and lost
the beat of the music altogether.

“Come on. We said we would. I can’t keep my
hands off you for another minute.”

Shirley thought about it.

Yes, they’d snogged at Ray and Anne’s party
the week before and, yes, she’d been turned on like a toaster when the handle’s
pulled down, but now she wasn’t sure.  She thought of her boyfriend out in the
pub with his mates, talking about the footy and flirting with any girl who got
within 5 metres. Shirley knew she loved him, but rubbing breasts together with
Anne as their tongues slipped over each other last week had turned her on
something chronic.

The memory caught hold of her and the hairs
on her arms rose. As if that wasn’t enough, the sight of Anne’s erect nipples
poking up over the Penny’s Henny logo practically set her pussy on fire, as if
she’d wiped herself after chopping chillies.

“Are you sure it’ll be all right?” Shirley
was anxious about using the cloakroom for shagging, even though their mate
Alice had given them a key and promised them that nothing could go wrong.

“Sure as I’ll ever be.  You ready?”

Shirley didn’t get time to answer. Instead,
she followed Anne and watched her ass move invitingly inside the sexy shorts of
their uniform.

Anne had the door open as planned. They
pushed inside and found themselves among neatly hung jackets and coats.

In the corner, as Alice had described, a
comfy looking armchair that looked as if it had seen better days.

Anne fell into it and pulled Shirley onto
her.

Their mouths met like 2 plungers then their
tongues joined together. The heat from their mouths caused their body
temperatures to rise a little and the spinning of their tongues seemed to wind
up their sex drives as if they were toys.

Shirley couldn’t get enough of Anne’s smell.
The heady mix of perfume and sweat turned her on beyond belief. It practically
brought her to orgasm without any other action and had her clit standing to
attention like it was on parade.

Anne groped under Shirley’s tee shirt and
found the bra clasp she was looking for. Once she’d done the unclipping, she
cupped Shirley’s liberated tits and marvelled at their texture. They were all
real, too. God, they were better than any stress ball she’d encountered and
when she tweaked the nipples Shirley let out a gasp.

The women pulled their tops over their
heads and let their nipples meet. They rounded each other and sent tender
tickles around their bodies like electric shocks. Their tits seemed to fix
together as if they were magnetic.

As if working in tandem, both girls
unbuttoned their lover’s shorts and slipped their fingers down.

Shirley wasn’t sure what to expect. It was
the first time she’d touched a woman like this. What she found surprised her.

Instead of a pussy like her own, she had to
work through a sexy crop of pubic hair. It felt rich soft as she moved through
it. In the middle of the forest, she found the moist, warm skin she was looking
for. It felt odd for a moment. The labia seemed to fold open and the clit at
the top felt larger and harder than the one she was used to.

Pushing on, she found the entrance to
Anne’s vagina. It was soaking wet with the slippery juice of sex. Her fingers
eased in, first 2, then 3, then 4. Anne wasn’t as tight as she’d expected –
maybe that meant that Ray had an enormous cock. The thought of Anne with a cock
thrusting inside her caused Shirley to spasm.  For the first time, she felt
Anne’s fingers at her pussy, circling her clitoris and taking a break in an
even rhythm to slide up and down between her cunt-lips. Shirley almost wet
herself with happiness and had to tighten herself to stop the pee from
escaping.

To take her mind off her bladder, Shirley
thought about what she wanted to do. She wanted to make Anne come like she’d
never come before. Make her burst like an over-inflated balloon. The best way
she could think of was to twist her wrist and get her thumb into action – it
always worked for her – sliding it into the groove and reaching deep while the
web of her hand rubbed at Shirley’s clit.