postcard amelie 17 part 1
“I think this will be fun,” Olivia says, pacing over and kissing you on the lips like she has five or six times in as many minutes. She’s just this side of nervous. If you didn’t know better you’d say she was prowling. “Ever since that time with Gemma, when she was inside you and we were together… God, I haven’t been able to get that out of my mind!”
Before she can recommence pacing you grasp her hand. “Amelie, are you happy?”
She seems surprised at the sudden change of topic. “Uh, why are you asking me now?”
You shift uncomfortably. You’re not quite sure why you asked either. She kneels in front of you, placing one arm across your knees and looking up into your face.
“I guess I don’t… I never understood why you wanted to be a predator; only that you never wanted to be prey. So, are you happy?”
Amelie’s expression dissolves into a smile of such tenderness you can’t help but feel it warm you, with a heat that radiates up into your chest. She takes your hand that grasps hers and traces little loving patterns into the back with the other.
“I am so happy. You took what happened in my past and brought it out into the open—that was hard. But then you made everything make sense. Why that woman did it.” She kisses your knuckles in turn. “And you made me like you. Just like you said you would. I’m not alone and you set me free.”
You open your mouth to add a warning but she grins and puts a finger to your lips. “I know, I know the world’s still a dangerous place. But I just feel less vulnerable. It’s an incredible gift you gave me.”
A stroke down your cheek to your neck makes you breathe a little deeper. Moreso when she replaces her finger with her lips, warm and yielding. You’re about to grab her and lift her into your lap when there’s a rat-a-tat at the door, coupled with the sound of giggling. Two voices.
Amelie gives your neck a goodbye lick then slips away to open the door.
“Room service!” says Erika’s voice. Amelie laughs and steps back to invite in the guests.
Olivia is lost in an oversized shirt she is obviously planning on discarding at some point for dramatic effect. Erika still wears her blousy top but has replaced the skinny jeans with a pleated skirt. Both come bearing bottles.
“Erika, I wasn’t expecting you too,” says Amelie, slipping into a hug from Olivia.
“She was just so curious when I told her I was coming,” says Olivia. “Questions and questions and questions. In the end I manipulated her into coming along.” She gives her girlfriend an evil grin that looks out of place on her pretty moon face. “Isn’t that right?”
Erika looks away, perhaps hiding a blush, and waves her bottle anew. “I brought that local drink, Melody.”
“I’ll get some glasses.” Amelie skips to the kitchenette, watched by both newcomers until Erika looks around and finds you on the bed.
“Raven!”
“Erika.”
Perhaps she wasn’t expecting to see you as you decided to present yourself. A burgundy shift with lace chasing up your arms, almost completely hiding sheer tights and the suspender belt that holds them tight against your skin. You’d packed them never expecting to use them, but it turns out Amelie is gaga for lingerie and the clothes just about fit your grown body. The straps of the suspenders press lovingly into your skin, and when you move the shift falls delicately over your belly, calling to mind a caress.
You lounge on the bed like a queen, regarding tall, blonde, athletic Erika with an intensity that makes her unsure what to do with her hands.
Olivia follows Erika’s gaze and falls visibly and instantly in lust. Her hands go straight to the collar of her tartan boyfriend shirt. You hear her murmur under her breath, “fuck me!”
“Come join me,” you say, a spider in your web.
Both the girls know Amelie much better than you so start a little shy. Erika says something about understanding what Amelie sees in you, which you graciously decide to take as a compliment. Olivia can’t tear her eyes from you, and looks like she might kowtow or pounce you, being unable to decide which.
Amelie strides back in and restores normality. Amelie, long of leg, tanned; dark brown hair offsetting pale green eyes. Amelie, jovial centre of attention in any group. Amelie, whose wit first caught your eye, who shared her deepest secrets with you and bled to receive a gift you didn’t know you could bestow.
The others love her, but not like you do.
Conversation is lively from the off. In-jokes from the restaurant, from the market, from previous friendship you are not privy to. Olivia and Amelie are established flirts, trying to out titillate one another.
“Truth or dare!” says Olivia, raising a finger in the air, a touch wobbly from the drink.
“No,” says Amelie firmly. “Here’s all the truths we need. Erika, you agree to let Olivia play out her fantasy?”
A second’s hesitation, then a nod, those ice-blue eyes fixed on Amelie.
“Then Olivia, your truth is to state your fantasy, and your dare is to remove that ridiculous shirt.”
Olivia looks from Erika to Amelie to you, a blush blooming on her cheeks despite the liquid pleasure in her eyes. She looks down, suddenly demure, embarrassed. “I want to be of use. Of service. A toy.” She looks at Erika longingly. “Is it really okay?”
Your stomach lets out a low rumble. Perhaps it is psychic, and this secret is why looking at Olivia made you hungry. Amelie hears and casts you a dark smile.
Erika nods stiffly. “It’s what you want, isn’t it? So, take off that shirt.”
Olivia bows her head and complies. Tartan falls to the floor and reveals nothing other than silken indigo panties, perfectly coordinated with the thin leather collar at her neck. Erika beckons her over and attaches a thin leash of the same material to a silver loop at the front.
“Get us more drinks,” Erika commands. Olivia nods, glowing with pleasure, and bustles to the kitchenette. To you and Amelie she says, “girls: do what you want with her.”
Amelie rubs her hands, grinning. “I knew she was freaky, but I never knew this.”
“She’s a slut at heart,” says Erika through a fixed smile.
Olivia returns with three shot glasses on a plate she’s used as a makeshift tray. These she almost drops when Erika grasps the loose leash and pulls Olivia’s face close. “Not like that. Hold the drink in your mouth. Don’t swallow.”
As Olivia swigs neat vodka, staring at her mistress, Amelie settles onto the bed beside you. You both watch Erika guiding Olivia’s lips to her own, first tilting her head back, then kissing her with proprietorial force. Olivia’s eyes flutter closed with bliss at the casual mistreatment. Erika swallows vodka.
“She’ll feed you Olivia,” whispers Amelie, leaning in close. “I’ll feed you Erika.”
Raises more questions, really, but your stomach twists into a knot of hunger that speaks and echoes down to your crotch. Behind walls of experienced flab the child has almost completely finished processing.
Olivia squeaks as Erika appears to bite, and withdraws with pained eyes but underwear dew-spotted. “There, a last kiss. Now, go serve the others the same way.”
Amelie is gentler. She receives Olivia with hands cradling her cheeks. The kiss lands soft and coaxes open Olivia’s mouth, whereupon she laps out her drink with long, sensual strokes of her tongue. When she pushes Olivia away, though, she also bites a lip, holding it between her teeth as Olivia makes pitiful noises.
So Olivia is shy to approach you. Blood is visible on her bottom lip.
You take the shot glass before she does and knock it back. Then you take the leash and pull her in close for a kiss that tastes of vodka and blood. Your own bite opens a freer-flowing but less painful wound. You suck hard to extract a small mouthful of copper from her before swallowing and kissing her deeply.
How natural the transition from kiss to devouring. Your lips soften and widen so your tongue is rolling down her chin, cupping and guiding her between widening jaws…
Erika takes the leash and pulls Olivia back. Olivia stares at you with astonishment, but doesn’t say anything. The expression is hidden when Erika slips a white silk blindfold over her eyes. As she ties it, she speaks into her ear.
“She’s your favourite, huh, slut? Then show her some appreciation.”
Erika steps on Olivia’s leash to force her head to the ground by your feet. Prostate, poor Olivia is forced to kiss your insteps. Lips brush desperately against the sensitive skin. Then Olivia moves of her own volition to kiss your calves, moving slowly up.
Satisfied her sub has got the idea, Erika steps away to retrieve some kind of double-ended toy. She casually throws another blindfold to Amelie, who catches it and examines it.
“Something to enhance the experience.”
Amelie grins and holds up the fabric to your eyes. She looks so excited, and Olivia’s kisses on your skin feel so enticing, that you lean forward and allow Amelie to tie the blindfold.
In darkness, you feel Amelie join in with the ascending kisses, showering your shoulders, your neck, with petal-soft kisses that raise your skin in goosebumps and make you unconsciously shift your hips. Her hands undress you of the shift, revealing with a silken caress your suspender belt, your weighty belly, the laced balconette that bears the weight of your heavy breasts. As the shift is pulled free you hear a feral growl from Amelie. Before the kisses recommence she murmurs by your ear, “no pants, naughty Raven. You are so beautiful.”
Olivia is now exploring your inner thighs. Her kisses sometimes depress your pillowy skin, sometimes trace the curves where the suspender straps compress that skin into smooth valleys.
There is one valley she discovers all of a sudden. …