postcard amelie 14
The afternoon and evening are spent in a delirium of exploration of Amelie’s new body. Everything is new to her, from the weight to the ache inside her pelvic cradle where her virgin guts are being pressed down like they’ve never been pressed before. You see everything fresh through her eyes, even though your practiced body readily and roughly is sucking the marrow from your breakfast while hers sits almost whole in her stomach.
The night, too, is spent in that otherworldly togetherness. She introduces you to toys she brought with her, anticipating having fun but never in a million years imagining she’d find you.
Then it is the morning, and late morning, and Amelie is keen to find her friends.
The others have kind of given up on you guys showing up consistently. So when Nathan spots Amelie walking towards their little group of sun loungers and waves, everyone looks around and makes a fuss. You’re at the bar getting something to drink for you both, but you can see and hear everything.
“Oh my God, we thought maybe you’d gone home with that loud chick!” says your Roxy, West-end London accent affixing vocal fry to every other word.
Amelie’s Olivia leaps to her feet and takes Amelie’s hands. “You missed yesterday! How big a hangover did you get at that club?”
Your Nathan, still seated on the lounger and at eye-level with Amelie’s pot belly, raises his sunglasses. “The hangover isn’t the only thing that’s big…”
She blushes under all the attention and dips her hips in little curtseys. You recall how nervous she was, examining herself in the full-length mirror and contemplating going out with such a belly. You’d held her from behind, your softness squeezing into her back and appearing at either side of her reflection. “This is your body. Love it.”
She certainly seems to be. You see Roxy and Olivia exchange glances and feel yourself becoming tense, protective.
Meanwhile, Amelie’s Erika, who must have been actively looking, has spotted you. Her mouth drops open as you emerge from the canopy by the bar into full sunlight.
You’re the living embodiment of your words. You love your body, and that love shows. Wearing a bikini in rich purple with gold decoration catching the sun, your belly curves out in a great, creamy billow. Shaped by the specialist bikini top, your breasts verge on the monumental. Your self-assured, unhurried sashay shows your wide hips and luscious backside off, yielding an effect that is directly responsible for one man dropping his glass and another squirting suntan lotion all over his unimpressed girlfriend’s back.
You saunter to the group, quashing the chatter like a wave flattens a sandcastle.
“Hi Raven,” says Amelie’s Carl, recovering fastest. “You’ve been taking care of our Clarice.”
“Our Raven’s rubbing off on her!” says Nathan, letting his sunglasses fall back over his eyes with a smile. He himself is sculpted, from bronzed body to platinum hair and pencil-line beard, but he’s seen you gain before and confessed he thought you looked like a goddess.
Amelie takes your proferred piña colada and places a kiss on your cheek. She looks happy. The knot of tension in your back eases as the chatter regroups and Amelie laughs at one of Olivia’s jokes. It isn’t long before you’re sparring with Nathan and enjoying your book, only occasionally disturbed by the second-hand voice of the departed boy within you. Amelie is in hushed, excited conversation with Olivia, hands moving rapidly but quiet enough against the kids playing in the pool that you can’t hear what they’re talking about.
The tension reappears when you see Erika quietly looking between your body and Amelie’s.