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Amelia's Homecoming
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
AMELIA'S HOMECOMING
It was almost 6:00, the time Jennifer had said he'd be off work. Amelia
stepped out of her car and straightened her skirt, pausing to push back the
tiny tendrils of hair that were trying valiantly to escape her chignon. Her
lips twitched into a nerveless smile as she imagined how Anthony would look
after almost eight years; Jennifer, his sister, was thirty-two and was still
carded occasionally when she went out, much to her delight, and she and her
brother were very similar in appearance and disposition.
Amelia was Jennifer's junior by six years but they had grown up together,
being neighbors. They didn't feel the age difference very much at all now
that they were both adults and, as children, their families had been so close
that Amelia hadn't minded being an only child. Anthony, on the other hand,
was almost thirteen when Amelia was born and they had had a rather
antagonistic relationship - she, the adoring little tag-along who made a pest
of herself and he, the enigmatic teenager. From her earliest memories she had
wanted to grow up to marry Anthony, even if he did call her "Amy Airhead" to
make her cry. Then Anthony had gone away to school and was only an infrequent
visitor to his parents' home; Amelia was an overweight little girl with teeth
too huge for her petite face and she tried not to let him see her when he was
home. He had called her "Amy" even at her eighteenth birthday party and she
had laughed, then cried herself to sleep when all her guests had left. She
had developed a pleasant face but she outweighed him by at least fifty poubds
and she knew that he would never think of her as anything but fat, little Amy.
She vowed to diet and exercise her way down to the kind of body he'd have to
notice and then she`d show up on his doorstep someday, and...
Amelia laughed to herself. She had been away in Europe for several years and
had managed to obtain her degree and do a highly acclaimed research project.
That she had become slender and grown into her beauty she accepted as her due;
she had worked long and hard to obtain the body she had idolized and had
maintained her exceptional figure for more than five years. She had developed
a self-confidence that showed in everything she did and had mastered three
languages - Dutch, German and Italian - with cool determination. Her brief
but highly satisfying stint as a film actress had given her the chance to see
herself through others' eyes (though her single movie had bombed in France and
never made it to the States), and she had never mentioned much about it. She
still had her stage work and that would always be important to her. Given
that fact, and her obstinence in refusing to send reciprocal photos to her
friends, even Jennifer had no idea how much Amelia had changed, physically,
anyway; so Anthony was going to be in for the shock of his life.
Amelia had looked at herself carefully in her mirror that morning, measuring
her body against her physical ideal. Her long legs were slender with sleek,
slightly plump calves and they fastened smoothly to her torso with the
undulating swell of her hips. Her waist was tiny and created the illusion of
a tall, slim hourglass; her rib cage curved gently and accented her flat
stomach. Amelia peered closely at her breasts and tried to imagine how they
would look to Anthony - they perched high and were firm, almost proud-looking,
topped with pale, peach-colored nipples. She thought he would admire the
effect if she gave him the chance. Her skin was nearly flawless and she was
happy that she had never acquired a tan. The unbroken whiteness of her silken
flesh would contrast nicely with his own, dark with the kiss of his
Mediterranean ancestry. Her eyes were a bit too close together for her own
taste, but they were a ripe, soft green and had always been wide and rather
innocent-looking. The high cheekbones that had forever been Amelia's vanity
were touched lovingly with rosy peach; the tint was mirrored, darker, in her
narrow but full mouth. Pale, golden curls had been swept back into a severe
knot to expose the glorious angles of her face and she looked forward to
letting her hair cascade over Anthony. She had refused to cut it, aside from
infrequent trims, since the last time they had seen each other and it had
grown into a long and luxuriant mane. Amelia had purchased a soft, simple and
elegant dress of the deepest emerald silk and had accented it with a single,
heavy gold chain at her throat. The dress' princess neckline drew attention
to her cleavage almost demurely and the matching pumps she had chosen accented
her legs to perfection.
The walk to the door of Anthony's office gave Amelia time to relish what she
was about to do to him. She knew from her conversations with Jennifer that he
wasn't serious about anyone at this time so she had no reservations about her
plans; she practiced a measured gait and hoped that he would have several
colleagues in attendance when she made her entrance.
"May I help you?" asked the receptionist.
"Anthony Perre, please." Amelia smiled as a door opened and his laughing
voice rang out. "Never mind, I've found him."
She strode toward the voices and, when she stepped to the doorway, five pairs
of male eyes turned her way. Anthony was in the middle of the group and his
smile transposed itself to one of appraisal. He didn't recognize her! Amelia
smiled softly and willed her voice to be husky.
"Anthony, we're going to be late." she purred as she stepped forward
delicately. "Please, don't keep me waiting." She draped her arms around his
neck and leaned toward him, daring him with her eyes to resist. Her parted
lips brushed his cheek sensuously, then she departed without a backward
glance. She knew Anthony better than he would have dreamed! He followed her
after a brief pause, mumbling excuses to his associates who broke into
appreciative chuckles.
"Where are we supposed to be going?" Anthony's eyes darted swiftly across
Amelia's face, a bemused smile coupled with confusion reflecting in his
expression.
"Your place." she answered simply.
He followed her to her car without another word and he responded ardently when
she pivoted to kiss him. Her lips felt fuller than usual and she bruised them
against him passionately. Amelia pulled away quickly and pressed her keys
into Anthony's hand. She slid into the car leaving barely enough room for him
to join her, and he made no objection when she hugged herself even more
tightly against him. They were silent during the short drive to his house and
it was only after he had parked the car that Anthony regarded Amelia
questioningly.
"I know that we know each other, somehow, but I don't remember you. I can't
believe I'd forget someone like you..." he said with some reluctance.
"Anthony, I've never known you as well as I'd like." His eyes widened subtly,
let her know her meaning wasn't lost on him and, when she leaned into him, her
lips parted, she shivered at his touch. "Let's go, Anthony." she whispered.
Anthony drew her slowly by her hand and led her to the house. His eyes left
hers only briefly when he unlocked the door and seized them again as he pulled
her after him. He laid his briefcase on the beautiful cherry-and-brass hall
tree that Amelia remembered from his grandparents' house years before; he
divested himself of his jacket as well and gestured for her to leave her
purse. She set it down obediently and took his hand, leading him
instinctively to the master bedroom.
"Who *are* you?" Anthony demanded in a hoarse sigh. His hands fumbled at his
tie and he unfastened the top button on his shirt. He grasped her shoulders
and drew her close, searching her eyes for his answer.
"You've never called me by my proper name, Anthony. I'm not surprised you
don't recall it." she teased, pulling his mouth toward her own. Her tongue
darted out to moisten his lips and, with a groan, he crushed her to him. She
felt his hands, one cupping her head and the other at the small of her back,
pressing her as close as they could. Her own fingers twined through his
thick, black hair salted lightly with silver. Amelia imagined that he'd have
a full head of fox-grey hair someday like his mother's; she'd always adored
Isabella and Giani almost as much as she loved her own parents, and Anthony
was nothing if not a fine blend of both of them.
When he pulled away, reluctantly, Anthony looked deeply into Amelia's eyes.
He stared with wonder, almost able to rip away the mask he fancied he could
see there. This woman was incredible, of that there was no doubt - but who
was she?
"Darling Tony, don't you remember, you used to call me -"
"Amy!" His surprise was nearly tangible. *This* was *Any*?
"Please, Anthony, call me Amelia..." she purred as she nipped lightly at his
cheek.
Anthony found her mouth again and held it, leading her toward his bed. His
tongue dueled with hers and her relished her taste. He was amazed to realize
that he could no longer envision the little girl she had been - Amelia, as she
was now, was all that existed to him. His fingers cupped lovingly the swell
of her buttocks and her marveled at the firmness of her flesh. She arched
against him sharply, opening her mouth further to envelope his own and
pressing her body tightly down his length.
He pulled away with a grin, detaching her only with difficulty; he sat down on
the bed and waited for her. Amelia laughed and joined him. "I've wanted to
kiss you since I was six years old, Anthony. It's taken twenty years, but I
finally did it!" She smiled sweetly at him and took his hands between hers.
"Amelia, you were always a cute little girl but you were like part of an
extended family to me -- I can't believe we're doing this..." His grin
broadened and he shook his head slowly. "I never would have recognized you!
You've grown up..." His eyes half-closed and his mouth sobered as he reached
for Amelia. His fingers found the buttons of her dress and, with slow
deliberation, he unfastened them. Her belt was next and he divested her
of the intrusive garment with a swift tug. Anthony's mouth was hot
against her bare shoulders and he trailed it tantalizingly down to the
edge of her demure teddy.
Amelia stripped Anthony of his shirt and caressed the profusion of
crisp, curling black hair on his chest. Her fingertips found his
nipples and, when she began to massage them, Anthony pulled back with a
gasp. He stood and disrobed quickly then, leaving on only his sensible,
plain shorts. Amelia's giggles were stifled when Anthony pulled down
the straps of her teddy and freed her breasts; he paused briefly to kiss
each one before sliding the garb down to her ankles. When she stepped
out of the crumpled silk Anthony picked her up, turned back the covers,
and laid her down on the bed. He removed his shorts and joined Amelia
there, drinking in her blushing body with his eyes before capturing her
mouth for an impassioned embrace.
Amelia nudged softly until Anthony lay flat, then she swung one leg over
to straddle him. She reached up slowly and removed the pins from her
hair then ran her fingers through it until it fell over him like a
waterfall. His hands grasped her tresses lovingly then pulled on them
gently until her lips met his. The smoothness of her back and her ribs
excited him as he caressed her and her hair was like golden netting
shielding both of them from the rest of the world. Her sweet, full
mouth was made redder by her fervor and it yielded to him deliciously.
He traced kisses down her neck and lapped the hollows created by her
collarbone, then took one pale, rosy nipple into his mouth and punished
it delicately with his teeth and tongue until Amelia's breath caught
deep in her throat. His hands had been kneading her buttocks, smoothing
the small creases where then joined her legs; his fingers probed more
deeply now, catching the dew that lay between her thighs. She drew away
from him and inched down his body, determined to give him the same
treatment her had given her.
Amelia smiled seductively as she separated two thick strands of her hair
and wrapped them around Anthony's hands. He acquiesced to this
"bondage" and made no objections when she began her own assault on his
straining nipples. She pushed the first with the tip of her tongue,
then circled it and bathed it with long, tender laps; the second she
sucked with all her might, rubbing it roughly with her lips and then
tickling with tiny, suggestive kisses. Anthony's eyes were closed in
pleasure when she swept down in an even arc and ensnared his glans,
enveloping it completely and suckling it with abandon. She took as much
of his length into her mouth as she could, pausing to dampen him
thoroughly with her saliva. She pulled deeply on him, running her
tongue around the head of his penis each time she drew back the
thrusting against him intensely. Anthony's senses were completely
roused and he was amazed at the delight she was creating in him;
Amelia's insistent tongue sharpened itself into a tight, strained point
and thrust forward to taste the inner rim of his urethra. His hips
bucked of their own volition at this new aggression and Anthony heard a
raspy moan which he was surprised to realize was his own. The silence
in the room, save for their breathing, seemed loud, as though he were
being besieged by firece waves. With more strength than he thought
possible he grasped Amelia at her waist and lifted her off of him.
"Anthony? What's the matter?" The darkness of his expression puzzled
Amelia until he settled her beside him with a wicked smile.
"I don't want to end this too soon, sweetheart. Now it's your turn to
relax...and enjoy." Anthony exhaled hotly against Amelia's thigh and
placed ghost kisses just at the soft, curling edge of her pubic mound.
He wanted to hear her beg him to sample her sweetness, to hear her
describe in detail what she wanted him to do to her and then to bask in
her exhilerating cries when she experienced what he hoped would be the
first of several climaxes for her that night. A small pang of remorse
hit him as he realized that he was not her first lover, then it gave way
to the satisfying knowledge that she had been in love with him all these
years and whoever had taken her virginity hadn't been the man she
actually craved.
Anthony nearly choked on the laughter that this vanity inspired - dear
lord, she was nearer thirty than twenty! He smiled and thanked heaven
that her eyes were still closed. Good! She was obviously relishing
this as much as he had! He pointed his tongue then and parted the moist
hair that twined lazily across her nether lips, resisting the brazen
hands that tried to push his head closer to that enchanting haven. With
deliberate fingers he separated her soft, pink labia and gazed into her
recesses with a kind of awe; he had seldom had the opportunity to do
things as slowly as he liked with his myriad lovers and was thus enjoying
this occasion to act as a true gourmand, savoring every exquisite section
of Amelia's body. Her odor was slightly salty, heady with her natural
musk and Anthony found himself fancying her a woodnymph. Her wild,
flowing locks were amazing to him in this day of mannish hairstyles and
mousses, gels and sundry other nonsense. He was a true romantic and had
always been just a little annoyed when women propositioned him; Amelia
had but, then, he might never have looked twice at her if he'd known who
she was. He shrugged aside these thoughts to concentrate on the steady,
rhythmic pulsing of her hips. He slid his tongue deep into her vagina
and her gasp was the catalyst he needed; he found her clitoris, heavy
and engorged with her fervor, and sucked it firmly with his lips. She
cried his name and locked her ankles below his shoulder blades, her mouth
a wide "O" of delight.
Anthony continued to circle her clitoris until Amelia clasped his arms
and towed him willingly up toward her. He kissed her and allowed her to
savor the flavor of herself on his lips and tongue, then drew away.
"Amelia, what do you want me to do? I'll do anything you like, but
I want you to tell me..." He reclined on his side, resting his elbow on
the bed and his chin on his fist.
"Anthony, I want you to get off the bed and come over here beside me."
Her lust abated, Amelia wanted to give him the same degree of enjoyment
that he had given her. "Now, just wait for me..." She turned until her
head rested on the edge beside her lover's legs, then she draped her
neck back and looked at him solemnly. "Now I want you to slide yourself
into my mouth..." She grinned up at him and opened her lips wide.
Anthony obliged her request, settling his penis on her tongue and
gliding it slowly to the back of her throat. With her head back like
this she could take the whole length of him without choking; he began
to thrust delicately, then increased his tempo as she began to match his
strokes with small flicks of her tongue and a slow, rhythmic suckling.
He leaned forward until his hips met the pale down between her thighs,
then renewed his earlier exploration of Amelia with lips, tongue and
fingers, Her mouth was almost frantic now in its efforts to squeeze
him dry but Anthony withdrew from her a second time. He lay down
beside her and plunged his fingers deep into her vagina while his thumb
caressed her clitoris, then he flipped her over onto her stomach and
trailed his fingers lightly between her buttocks. Amelia started to
squirm in protest but Anthony probed lightly until he was able to move
past the tightness of her sphincter muscle - another sharp gasp, then
Anthony's mouth replaced his finger and was rewarded with her tiny,
breathy little moans. He tickled her gently then eased up behind her
to bring the tip of his glans just to the swell of her clitoris. A
few mock thrusts and Amelia's body rocked with her second orgasm.
Anthony entered her then from behind, grasping her hair and biting
her shoulder tenderly. She picked up his cadence swiftly, matching him
stroke for stroke and pushing him almost violently. He stopped his
movement suddenly and pushed her over slowly., still buried deep within
her and, when they were face to face, he lay down against her and
kissed her sweetly.
Amelia broke their stillness, swaying upwards to meet him firmly and
setting the pace for him to follow. Anthony plunged deeply into her,
impaling her and feeling the almost-tangible wave whose oppression he
had felt from the very beginning of this adventure begin to break over
him. Amelia's legs were fastened tightly around him, hugging him close
to her, when her breathing became ragged and her moans more audible.
His name crescendoed on her lips, then faded softly as Anthony reached
his climax, Amelia's muscles twitching with her throes of rapture. He
thrust deeply one last time as she shuddered and embraced him with what
seemed like the whole of her body, and he fell, exhausted, onto her
moist breast.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Amelia woke feeling hungry. She was dazed until she turned and saw
Anthony sleeping by her side and felt the warm, familiar sensation
that lovemaking always left with her. She smiled as she thought back
to the fantasy she'd always had about how he would act, and how she
would act...the rituals had dissolved in the heat of the moment. He
was magnificent, as she had known he would be; and she was sure that
this was to be the first of many enjoyable evenings they'd spend
together.
As she padded downstairs to the kitchen she remembered something that
Jennifer had said about having gone berry-picking and bringing the
booty home to "Tony". Amelia giggled - where there were berries whipped
cream could never be far behind and Anthony would probably enjoy a
midnight dessert!
-Tracy Flynn-Marsh
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