Archive-name: Working/amelia.mf

Archive-author: Tracy D. Flynn-Marsh

Archive-title: 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 alright, 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 reshoot 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 trailors 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 founder-

ing 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

trailors.



       Escaping the gown was a monumental achievement, its stays and pins

being reminiscent of a straitjacket; Amelia was almost afronted 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.



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       "...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 per-

haps 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, 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 psycho-

logical 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!"



       "I like squid." was his typical reply.



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       "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 con-

scientious 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 thrusted 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 alright?" 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 aureoles, 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 crescendoed 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 deliber-

ately, 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 rythmic 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.



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       "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 com-

fortable 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 some-

thing 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..."



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