Erotica (the collected works of Amelie) Read Online Free PDF Page B

It had at least another twenty in there.
Maybe it wasn’t something she’d have to be worrying about after all.
    She let Mario chew away at her bonds as she
stretched her mouth over and took his cock.
    This time she tasted no sugar. This time
all she tasted was man.
    the
end
    and
the beginning ;)

Love Games
    for the way things have been
    L ast night was amazing. It was as if I’d
finally graduated from the school of love. Just the thought of it makes me gasp
as I lie here in the bed among the stains, the ropes and the horny scents. My
room’s never been such a clutter, letters spread all over the floor and my
clothes crumpled into uneven piles, yet I’ve never felt so incredibly
satisfied. It’s as if I’ve finally graduated from the school of love. God, if
this were tennis, this morning is game set and match.
    I remember the first games of love.
    They were cute. Innocent. Fun. Running
around the playground in our summer dresses being chased by boys, none of us
more than 5 years old. I can’t remember the rules exactly. The boys would chase
us and we’d try to get away. When they couldn’t catch us and started to give
up, we’d run closer and taunt them. “Hah, you can’t catch me,” and they’d come
after us with renewed energy.
    When they did get us, they’d drag us to a
place. Sometimes it was the picnic bench and others the wall. When we got
there, they’d let go to chase someone else and we’d wait to be saved by other
girls in the game.
    We played that on every playtime for weeks
in the summer term. They were such happy times.
    By the next year, we’d moved on.  Kiss
chase was the new black. I can’t remember much about the rules of that either.
Everything was the same as the game we played when we were 5, except now we
were 6 the boys kissed us when they caught us or we kissed them when it was our
turn on catch.  Course, we all pretended to hate being kissed and doing the
kissing, but that was just part of the game. If we’d pretended it was nice to
be close to boys, I don’t suppose it would have been much fun for any of us.
    When we were 7, I think we went our
separate ways for a while. Instead of playing with the boys we’d tease them.
Handstands against the wall and showing our knickers was about as far as we
went and if any boy came near or said anything they’d be chased off by a pack
of us who snarled and spat at them like vixens.
    The next stage I missed out on. ‘You show
me yours and I’ll show you mine’ went on in the darker corners of building and,
when we were allowed to play on the grass, in the bushes at the end of the
field. I never went near that one. I remember wanting to, especially when David
Bath went into the bushes with Emily Steele, but I didn’t have the guts.  Mum
would have killed me for even thinking about going and she seemed to inhabit me
even when we were apart, existing as my conscience for many years to come.
    That conscience stayed with me through my
teens. I would have led a sheltered life if it hadn’t been for alcohol. I found
that a drink or two seemed to blind the angel on my shoulder and let me get
away with one or two things. The best thing about the booze was that when we’d
finished we could spin the bottle.
    First time we ever did it, there were 4
boys and 4 girls. We sat in a circle and promised faithfully we’d kiss whoever
the bottle pointed at.
    David Bath was there. So was Emily Steele.
    David took the first spin and it sped off
like it might go into orbit. Then it slowed and bumped and I willed the bottle
to point to me as hard as I could, until the pressure behind my eyes made my
head hurt.  The bottle didn’t pay me any attention and came to rest pointing at
a girl called Gloria.
    The two of them got close as the rest of
them wolf-whistled and cheered. David and Gloria started nervously, but before
long they had their tongues in each other’s mouths. They span their tongues way
too fast, but we didn’t know any better. It seemed