From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Amelia's Starring Role (MF, cons)
Date: 8 Jul 1996 21:22:44 GMT

			Amelia's Starring Role

	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-and-seek 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 all right, 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 re-shoot
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 trailers and have enough time to beat the late traffic;
the two on stage allowed their characters 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 trailers.

	Escaping the gown was a monumental achievement, its stays and
pins being reminiscent of a strait-jacket; Amelia was almost affronted
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,
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 twenty-five 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, summer-y 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 chicory 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.

	"All right, 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!"

	"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-to-know-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.

	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 thrust 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
whispering her name...

	"Patrick? Are you all right?" 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 areoles, 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 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 now-protruding 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 crescendo-ed 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 rhythmic 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 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... "