Sexy Stories-Amelia's Starring Role

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Swingers Resources Home Join Now! Chat (members only) Guide to Swinging Swingers Stories Sexy Stories Swingers Humor Dating Categories Swingers Dating Adult Dating Dating Service Dating Related Link Partners IWantU Free Membrship Guest Tour Success Stories Swingers Personals Couple looking for Couple Women looking for Couple Men looking for Couple	Sexy Stories Amelia's Starring Role (chapter 2) 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, summery 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 chickory 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. "Alright, 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!" - 4 -"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-toknow-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. Read more: 1 2 3 4

Amelia's Starring Role (chapter 2)
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, summery 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 chickory 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.
"Alright, 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!"
- 4 -"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-toknow-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.