Evanescence::Amy Lee/Orlando Bloom::NC-17::"Fuck Me Baby -- Amy Lee"
Title: "Fuck Me Baby -- Amy Lee"
Author: kristelflindall (dejectedmadness)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Amy Lee/ Orlando Bloom
Warnings: RPS... that means they are real people.
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.
Author's Notes: The lyrics belong to Evanescence and Amy Lee. Don't get angry because its RPS. I already warned you. Flames of this sort will be deleted.
Feedback: Please.
He shifted on his feet, pulling the ruffle of a shirtsleeve out from under the cuff of his jacket a little more, rubbing his eye, and trying to ignore the cigarette craving. He always got twitchy at these things, even though he still had a half an hour before anything was going to happen. At least if Kate was here, he would have someone to talk to.
How long had it been since he’d had a cigarette anyway? Kate was good for reminding him of that, too. His eye twitched again, and Orlando started to walk.
There were few people backstage right now, but he was one of the first presenting, so he had to stand around and wait for someone to lead him to the stage, give him the envelope and kick him in the ass, so to speak. There was someone! He approached her from behind.
He didn’t recognize the telltale waist-length black hair, nor did he think anything of her white taffeta dress over baggy and torn blue jeans. He tapped her on the shoulder, briefly taking note of the corset tied around her over the black fishnet shirt, also torn at the sleeves.
She didn’t smile, but neither did she look particularly unfriendly. “Hi,” he said stupidly.
“Hi.”
“Do you smoke?”
She let a chuckle escape her at the ridiculous introduction, but shook her head. “No.”
He gave what might, on a less manly and handsome actor, be mistaken as a pout. “Shame, I need a cigarette.”
“Well, Wes might have something.” She called across the room to a man who blended into the black walls. Sure enough, he produced a duMaurier light, which Orlando graciously accepted.
“You know, those things will kill you.”
He flashed one of his charming, pretty-boy grins. “I know; that’s why I quit.” After he said it, he questioned himself, wondering if it sounded as much like a pick up line as he thought it did.
But she just laughed and extended her hand. “I’m Amy Lee. You’re that pirate guy, right? The movie with Johnny Depp.”
He shook her hand, “Yeah, Orlando Bloom.”
“Orlando Bloom!” He glanced at the origin of the voice, somewhere behind him.
“Excuse me,” he put the cigarette in his coat pocket and made way for the sound manager.
* * *
She checked her corset’s tightness for the sixth time, adjusted her black and teal armwarmers, checked to see if she had enough black around her eyes, and took another deep breath. She was as prepared as she was going to get. The clock still said she had at least twenty minutes before her stage call.
‘Fuck this,’ she thought.
She slipped out the side door for some air, leaving her leather boot behind to prop it open, She jumped around, one foot cold, in the cool air, watching her breath come out white and float away. She tilted her head either way, stretching, but not cracking, her neck, and raised her arms above her head.
The door opened behind her, and she spun to watch a brown-haired, suit-clad young man, with ruffled sleeves hanging past his suit-cuffs, back out the door. He jumped when he saw her, but she just smiled. A cigarette dangled from his lips.
“Fancy seeing you again. Isn’t that odd?”
“A lot of people here,” she agreed.
He fumbled with his lighter, but finally managed to set the end of the smoke alight. He pulled in a breath of the foul smoke, and his eyes rolled back. “Oh God, I’ve missed that.”
She smirked, “You’re kind of an idiot.”
He smiled at her without responding. “So what are you doing out here, and with one shoe?”
She allowed him a full smile this time. “The other one’s got the door. I’ve got to set up soon, so I’m just getting some air.”
“You’re in a band, right?”
She smiled again, curiously, “Yeah.”
“I’ve been a little busy lately to follow music, but I get to announce you. Evanescence: a dissipation or vapour-like spirit.”
“Yea, that’s us.”
“Sounds kind of creepy.”
“That’s what we were going for.”
He nodded, clutching his cigarette with three fingers, despite how short it was getting. He took one last drag and ground it out on the pavement. He held the smoke in for a minute, fishing through his pocket and coming up with a breath mint. She watched him interestedly as he went through the menial actions.
He popped the mint in his mouth, “So are you any good?”
The door behind them opened and Wes stuck his head out. “Fuck, Amy! You been out here all this time? We have to get out there.”
She returned her attention to Orlando and winked, “Well, I’ll see you after, and you let me know.”
* * *
“Now for a musical interlude, we have a band whose name means ‘a dissipation or vapour-like spirit’ and who says they were going for ‘kind of creepy’… Evanescence!”
Amy almost blushed at his use of her previous statement, but was brought back to attention by the opening notes of Farther Away. She slinked out to the edge of the stage, hair in front of her face, and started singing.
I took their smiles and I made them mine,
I sold my soul just to hide the light,
And now I see what I really am:
A thief, a whore, and a liar.
Orlando watched from his position on the stage, mesmerized by the power of Amy’s vocals and the eerie sound of the music.
Quite suddenly, the music changed. The song was clearly different, lighter at first. The lyrics were odd, but the vocals were no less powerful or amazing. He was intrigued. Not often could a rock band incorporate a female singer with any amount of success, but he quite liked this.
In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullabies,
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple clouds fly over me.
Amy couldn’t see him, but she knew where he was. She turned toward him, singing, challenging him. There was something different about Orlando Bloom, besides being not only young and handsome, but British. No, he was not what she’d see in a lot of her fans. He wasn’t like Shaun. He wasn’t dark or angry or angst ridden. He had been closer to death than any of her gothic fans and friends, and he was light, chipper, happy, and everything she usually couldn’t stand in people, but he wasn’t annoying. In fact, if she would let herself admit it, she was mildly- okay, she lied- extremely attracted to this dark, handsome, quirky young actor who could, if nothing else, make her smile.
The last notes of her song rang out over the applause and whistles of the audience, and Amy took her bow before slinking back offstage.
* * *
There were a thousand after-parties, none of which actually interested Orlando until he caught a glimpse of that guy who’d given him the cigarette.
“Hey,” he said, approaching the man.
Wes recognized the Brit and started to pull out another smoke, but Orli waved him down. “No, I’m good now that I don’t have to stand up in front of a thousand people more talented than me and speak.”
Wes understood. He got a little nervous before a concert, he was nervous tonight, so he could relate. “Are you going to one of those parties now?”
“Uh, yeah, I think we’re going somewhere. Don’t ask me though, I’m just the band.”
Orlando laughed, “Yeah, I get that. Hey, do you mind if I tag along? I think you’re the only person here that I know.”
Wes laughed. “Yeah, feel free. I don’t exactly know anyone either. No date tonight?”
“Not so much.” He laughed, “Otherwise I wouldn’t have this decision to make. I’d already know where I was going.”
“Or you’d follow her around like me, right?”
Orli laughed, “Something like that.”
* * *
It was crowded, it was loud, and it was hot, as is usual in a party in SoCal. Orlando stuck to the corner, sipping a drink, shaking hands, and greeting various people. He didn’t know anyone here, and Wes was socializing with the rest of the band. The actor was beginning to think he wanted to escape.
“You haven’t left yet.”
Orli turned to face the beautiful woman with long raven hair. He smiled at her sombre expression.
“Neither have you. This doesn’t exactly seem like a place you’d be caught dead at.”
“Most people would argue that I am already as dead as I’m likely to get.” He laughed. She grinned. “What are you still doing here?”
“Waiting.”
“For?”
“To tell you what I thought.”
For the first time that evening, a genuine smile, and even a bit of colour, graced her face. “Oh?” She said, not sounding half as shy or embarrassed as she looked. “So what was the verdict mister Bloom?”
“Well you definitely don’t suck.” She laughed. “Actually, I was a little surprised that I never heard you before. I liked it. Are all your songs so eerie and… vocal.”
“Most of them.”
“Hmmm. Maybe I’ll pick up your CD then.”
“If you want,” she said hesitantly, “I’ve got some copies back at the hotel… unless you’re having too much fun here.”
* * *
What are you thinking? Just because she’s not here, doesn’t mean she doesn’t matter! She’s in the same country. New York, she’s in New York. You can’t just go to some random stranger’s hotel. And don’t even think about sleeping with her!
* * *
Well why not? It’s not exactly as if I don’t know him. He’s Orlando freaking Bloom! I’ve seen the pirate movie a good… twice. Fuck, I’m in over my head. Why did I invite him to my room anyway?
* * *
To sleep with her, you know very well why you’re here. Don’t try to make it into something it’s not. Just one night. We’ll go for coffee after and- I wonder if she scratches.
* * *
He looks like he’d bite me if I let him. I should probably lay some ground rules. Okay, the concepts “lay” and “rules” should never be considered at the same time.
* * *
What time is it? Geez, I’m not the least bit tired. I wonder if she’s going to expect this to take long. She’s kind of young. For all I know, she wants me to be her knight in shining armour, come to carry her off. This is just one night. I should make sure she knows it’s only going to be one night.
* * *
The one night Shaun can’t come with me and I’m already fucking someone else. He isn’t going to find out about this. Fuck, that would be hard to explain….
* * *
How would I explain this to Kate? ‘Oh, this goth princess was the only one to talk to at the show. I didn’t know she wanted a shag until we got to her hotel room.’
“Here’s my hotel room!” She said without enthusiasm, opening the door and bringing Orlando out of his reverie. He smiled and followed her over the threshold. It wasn’t some big glamorous hotel room. It was a Holiday Inn. She also didn’t have much in the way of clothes. Just something to change into, it looked like. Her wardrobe was probably packed away somewhere for her.
“Do you want something to drink? I only have Pepsi.”
“Pepsi would be great.” She poured some into little plastic cups and handed one to Orli. He took a drink and set it aside.
“Uh, give me a minute to find… I think they’re here somewhere.” She rooted through a small bag. Orlando came up behind her. “Yes! I was right.” She spun around, almost knocking the actor over. She barely smiled. “Sorry. Here.”
He looked at the CD, the picture on the cover far from doing her justice. “Thanks.” He set it with the drink, but didn’t move his gaze.
Amy was quite possibly the scariest person he’d ever met. Orlando had a hard time not backing down. The way she just stood there and looked at him, her posture, her lack of facial expression, they were all challenging. How was he supposed to seduce someone that reminded him of an angry stone?
Amy was never good at this. She knew she was a bit intimidating, but that was just who she was. She tried a smile after it started to get awkward.
“Amy?”
“Yeah,” she replied, relieved that the silence had been broken.
“You make me nervous.”
She laughed softly. “Well that’s not exactly a ‘fuck me, baby’, but it’ll do.” Amy moved a little closer.
“See that?” He said, “It makes me nervous.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not exactly used to girls like you.”
“I’m fairly certain you’ve never met a girl like me.”
“You’re right.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
He shrugged, “I don’t know what you’re expecting. Did you even invite me up here for a drink and a shag?”
“No.”
“Oh,” his shoulders slumped.
“You forgot the CD.”
* * *
Aside from the way she dressed, her personality, and her being in a mainly male dominated profession, Amy was still nothing like other girls. She was demanding, sure, but she insisted on being the one in control. She initiated the kiss for example. She approached him, eyes dark from her makeup, the dim light of the room and his shadow. Her lips did not touch his, but rather crashed into them, though ‘crash’ implies sloppiness, when actually, it was very precise.
She probed his lips with her tongue. He opened them, feeling her teeth press into his lips through hers. Her hand grabbed at his shoulder, propelled him backward until he felt the desk against his thigh. Her body was flush with his, breasts and hard nipples pressed into his chest. He tried to match her expertly wriggling tongue with his own, but she sucked it into her mouth, closing her lips around it. He felt his cock leap in his trousers; he’d not known the muscle in his mouth was connected to the organ in his pants.
Amy pushed Orlando back until he lay on the desk… table… thing. She lay atop him, taking note that he was already semi-hard. She smiled into the kiss and withdrew slightly. He tried to follow her lips, but she moved to kiss his neck. His skin was a gorgeous tan-olive colour and smelled like smoke, alcohol and sweat.
She undid his jacket without looking, then set to the buttons on his shirt. Orlando sat up to shrug the jacket off, and she slid back to the floor. She kicked off her boots, tossing them to lie next to his jacket. Orlando stood up.
Amy took a step back to admire the man. He was thin, but his arms and upper body were strong, filling out the shirt nicely. She could see why thousands of teenage girls squealed over him. She almost wanted to squeal herself. She was having sex with him for fuck sake! Squealing, though, was quite unbecoming a rocker girl.
Orlando watched as she started to undo her corset. She didn’t need to see what she was doing, which helped him identify it as a favourite, one she practiced taking off. She tossed it and her arm warmers on the bed. Orlando stepped up and helped undo the dress so she might remove that.
Now that wasn’t fair. She had only a pair of jeans left, and he was still in that lovely ruffled shirt. His hands were at her waist. To even the score, she simply ripped at the fabric, causing buttons to fly off, but the shirt hung off him. He gaped.
“My mother gave me that shirt.”
“Good taste.” She drew a line from collarbone to earlobe with her tongue. “You too.”
Orlando shrugged the fabric to the floor and continued at her pants. They tied the race, but Amy was a sore loser. She pushed him back on the bed, crawling over him and pressing her mouth to his. She straddled him, feeling his cock, hard through his boxers and straining to be nearer to her wet heat.
Her hand moved to grope him, stroke him through the fabric. His hands deftly unsnapped her bra and cast it aside. His fingers stroked her labia through the silky underwear she had on, then sneaked under the elastic of the leg hole to slide inside her.
She moaned and though it did not have the beauty of her voice in mid-song, it possessed a completely different beauty. Orlando had not thought he could get harder, but he did, losing his breath in the process.
Her hand stopped stroking him when he probed inside her. She rested her chin against his shoulder and halfway lifted herself up to give him better access.
“Fuck,” she moaned when his fingers brushed her clit. He did it again and she shuddered. She tightened her grip on his cock the last time he touched her, then very suddenly, she released him and sat up.
Orlando was momentarily bewildered when she left the bed, but she quickly returned wuth a Trojan in her hand. He grinned and reached out to take it, but Amy put the wrapper in between her teeth and pulled the waist of Orlando’s boxers down, letting his erection spring free and then removed them entirely. She tore the wrapper with her teeth and placed the condom over his prick, sliding it down. She smiled when her touch made him moan.
‘That’s it,’ he thought. He’d had enough. He gripped her biceps and twisted his body to push her to the bed and roll on top of her. She gasped when she felt the head of his penis positioned outside her entrance. She removed her underwear.
Orlando pressed in slowly, gleefully watching her face grow slack as he filled her. He took a moment to grow used to the tight heat, but she was unwilling to wait. She clenched her muscles to give him enough incentive to get moving.
For the first bit, Orlando propped himself up with his arms and thrust hard into her, allowing Amy to just lay there, but a man’s upper body strength and endurance is not infinite. He lowered himself so their bodies were close and moved with less force, then Amy used this opportunity to meet him thrust for thrust.
Orli grit his teeth and was surprised to hear a low growl come from the back of his throat. His breaths were gasping. Amy was keening as his hips bruised into hers. She felt the end of his penis strike her cervix even as the latex rubbed her clit. She saw stars and went breathless with every stroke. Orlando’s fingers pulled at the ring through her right nipple, and his lips locked on her shoulder.
Amy cried when he pulled her nipple. He started to clench, her muscles tightening inadvertently due to his ministrations. She slammed her hips down onto him harder, legs wrapped around his waist for leverage, nails digging into her back.
Orlando knew what that meant, he redoubled his efforts using teeth on her shoulder, nails on her nipples, and twice the force thrusting into her.
“Orlando!” The name sounded strange on her tongue when she cried it, but the thought left her as her orgasm caused her to spasm, raking her nails up his back, leaving marks for sure.
He heard the cry, but his own was a whisper in comparison. “Amy,” his seed shot into the condom and he bit down on her shoulder, leaving an imprint of teeth. He rode out his orgasm to the sound of her laboured breathing.
“You bit me.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be, that was fun.”
* * *
In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullabies,
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple sky fly over me.
“Hey honey.” Orlando jumped at the hands that closed over his shoulder.
He turned and laughed. “You scared me.”
“Sorry. He, I didn’t know you liked Evanescence.” She fingered the CD jacket laying on the table next to him. She picked it up but didn’t open it. “It seems too… gothic for your tastes.”
He grinned. “A friend of mine gave it to me.”
“That was nice of him,” Kate mumbled, tossing the Jacket back down. “Come on, let me make you lunch.”
He nodded, “I’ll be right there.” She left the room. Orlando opened the CD jacket.
Next time try “Fuck me, Baby”! - Amy Lee
Author: kristelflindall (dejectedmadness)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Amy Lee/ Orlando Bloom
Warnings: RPS... that means they are real people.
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.
Author's Notes: The lyrics belong to Evanescence and Amy Lee. Don't get angry because its RPS. I already warned you. Flames of this sort will be deleted.
Feedback: Please.
He shifted on his feet, pulling the ruffle of a shirtsleeve out from under the cuff of his jacket a little more, rubbing his eye, and trying to ignore the cigarette craving. He always got twitchy at these things, even though he still had a half an hour before anything was going to happen. At least if Kate was here, he would have someone to talk to.
How long had it been since he’d had a cigarette anyway? Kate was good for reminding him of that, too. His eye twitched again, and Orlando started to walk.
There were few people backstage right now, but he was one of the first presenting, so he had to stand around and wait for someone to lead him to the stage, give him the envelope and kick him in the ass, so to speak. There was someone! He approached her from behind.
He didn’t recognize the telltale waist-length black hair, nor did he think anything of her white taffeta dress over baggy and torn blue jeans. He tapped her on the shoulder, briefly taking note of the corset tied around her over the black fishnet shirt, also torn at the sleeves.
She didn’t smile, but neither did she look particularly unfriendly. “Hi,” he said stupidly.
“Hi.”
“Do you smoke?”
She let a chuckle escape her at the ridiculous introduction, but shook her head. “No.”
He gave what might, on a less manly and handsome actor, be mistaken as a pout. “Shame, I need a cigarette.”
“Well, Wes might have something.” She called across the room to a man who blended into the black walls. Sure enough, he produced a duMaurier light, which Orlando graciously accepted.
“You know, those things will kill you.”
He flashed one of his charming, pretty-boy grins. “I know; that’s why I quit.” After he said it, he questioned himself, wondering if it sounded as much like a pick up line as he thought it did.
But she just laughed and extended her hand. “I’m Amy Lee. You’re that pirate guy, right? The movie with Johnny Depp.”
He shook her hand, “Yeah, Orlando Bloom.”
“Orlando Bloom!” He glanced at the origin of the voice, somewhere behind him.
“Excuse me,” he put the cigarette in his coat pocket and made way for the sound manager.
* * *
She checked her corset’s tightness for the sixth time, adjusted her black and teal armwarmers, checked to see if she had enough black around her eyes, and took another deep breath. She was as prepared as she was going to get. The clock still said she had at least twenty minutes before her stage call.
‘Fuck this,’ she thought.
She slipped out the side door for some air, leaving her leather boot behind to prop it open, She jumped around, one foot cold, in the cool air, watching her breath come out white and float away. She tilted her head either way, stretching, but not cracking, her neck, and raised her arms above her head.
The door opened behind her, and she spun to watch a brown-haired, suit-clad young man, with ruffled sleeves hanging past his suit-cuffs, back out the door. He jumped when he saw her, but she just smiled. A cigarette dangled from his lips.
“Fancy seeing you again. Isn’t that odd?”
“A lot of people here,” she agreed.
He fumbled with his lighter, but finally managed to set the end of the smoke alight. He pulled in a breath of the foul smoke, and his eyes rolled back. “Oh God, I’ve missed that.”
She smirked, “You’re kind of an idiot.”
He smiled at her without responding. “So what are you doing out here, and with one shoe?”
She allowed him a full smile this time. “The other one’s got the door. I’ve got to set up soon, so I’m just getting some air.”
“You’re in a band, right?”
She smiled again, curiously, “Yeah.”
“I’ve been a little busy lately to follow music, but I get to announce you. Evanescence: a dissipation or vapour-like spirit.”
“Yea, that’s us.”
“Sounds kind of creepy.”
“That’s what we were going for.”
He nodded, clutching his cigarette with three fingers, despite how short it was getting. He took one last drag and ground it out on the pavement. He held the smoke in for a minute, fishing through his pocket and coming up with a breath mint. She watched him interestedly as he went through the menial actions.
He popped the mint in his mouth, “So are you any good?”
The door behind them opened and Wes stuck his head out. “Fuck, Amy! You been out here all this time? We have to get out there.”
She returned her attention to Orlando and winked, “Well, I’ll see you after, and you let me know.”
* * *
“Now for a musical interlude, we have a band whose name means ‘a dissipation or vapour-like spirit’ and who says they were going for ‘kind of creepy’… Evanescence!”
Amy almost blushed at his use of her previous statement, but was brought back to attention by the opening notes of Farther Away. She slinked out to the edge of the stage, hair in front of her face, and started singing.
I took their smiles and I made them mine,
I sold my soul just to hide the light,
And now I see what I really am:
A thief, a whore, and a liar.
Orlando watched from his position on the stage, mesmerized by the power of Amy’s vocals and the eerie sound of the music.
Quite suddenly, the music changed. The song was clearly different, lighter at first. The lyrics were odd, but the vocals were no less powerful or amazing. He was intrigued. Not often could a rock band incorporate a female singer with any amount of success, but he quite liked this.
In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullabies,
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple clouds fly over me.
Amy couldn’t see him, but she knew where he was. She turned toward him, singing, challenging him. There was something different about Orlando Bloom, besides being not only young and handsome, but British. No, he was not what she’d see in a lot of her fans. He wasn’t like Shaun. He wasn’t dark or angry or angst ridden. He had been closer to death than any of her gothic fans and friends, and he was light, chipper, happy, and everything she usually couldn’t stand in people, but he wasn’t annoying. In fact, if she would let herself admit it, she was mildly- okay, she lied- extremely attracted to this dark, handsome, quirky young actor who could, if nothing else, make her smile.
The last notes of her song rang out over the applause and whistles of the audience, and Amy took her bow before slinking back offstage.
* * *
There were a thousand after-parties, none of which actually interested Orlando until he caught a glimpse of that guy who’d given him the cigarette.
“Hey,” he said, approaching the man.
Wes recognized the Brit and started to pull out another smoke, but Orli waved him down. “No, I’m good now that I don’t have to stand up in front of a thousand people more talented than me and speak.”
Wes understood. He got a little nervous before a concert, he was nervous tonight, so he could relate. “Are you going to one of those parties now?”
“Uh, yeah, I think we’re going somewhere. Don’t ask me though, I’m just the band.”
Orlando laughed, “Yeah, I get that. Hey, do you mind if I tag along? I think you’re the only person here that I know.”
Wes laughed. “Yeah, feel free. I don’t exactly know anyone either. No date tonight?”
“Not so much.” He laughed, “Otherwise I wouldn’t have this decision to make. I’d already know where I was going.”
“Or you’d follow her around like me, right?”
Orli laughed, “Something like that.”
* * *
It was crowded, it was loud, and it was hot, as is usual in a party in SoCal. Orlando stuck to the corner, sipping a drink, shaking hands, and greeting various people. He didn’t know anyone here, and Wes was socializing with the rest of the band. The actor was beginning to think he wanted to escape.
“You haven’t left yet.”
Orli turned to face the beautiful woman with long raven hair. He smiled at her sombre expression.
“Neither have you. This doesn’t exactly seem like a place you’d be caught dead at.”
“Most people would argue that I am already as dead as I’m likely to get.” He laughed. She grinned. “What are you still doing here?”
“Waiting.”
“For?”
“To tell you what I thought.”
For the first time that evening, a genuine smile, and even a bit of colour, graced her face. “Oh?” She said, not sounding half as shy or embarrassed as she looked. “So what was the verdict mister Bloom?”
“Well you definitely don’t suck.” She laughed. “Actually, I was a little surprised that I never heard you before. I liked it. Are all your songs so eerie and… vocal.”
“Most of them.”
“Hmmm. Maybe I’ll pick up your CD then.”
“If you want,” she said hesitantly, “I’ve got some copies back at the hotel… unless you’re having too much fun here.”
* * *
What are you thinking? Just because she’s not here, doesn’t mean she doesn’t matter! She’s in the same country. New York, she’s in New York. You can’t just go to some random stranger’s hotel. And don’t even think about sleeping with her!
* * *
Well why not? It’s not exactly as if I don’t know him. He’s Orlando freaking Bloom! I’ve seen the pirate movie a good… twice. Fuck, I’m in over my head. Why did I invite him to my room anyway?
* * *
To sleep with her, you know very well why you’re here. Don’t try to make it into something it’s not. Just one night. We’ll go for coffee after and- I wonder if she scratches.
* * *
He looks like he’d bite me if I let him. I should probably lay some ground rules. Okay, the concepts “lay” and “rules” should never be considered at the same time.
* * *
What time is it? Geez, I’m not the least bit tired. I wonder if she’s going to expect this to take long. She’s kind of young. For all I know, she wants me to be her knight in shining armour, come to carry her off. This is just one night. I should make sure she knows it’s only going to be one night.
* * *
The one night Shaun can’t come with me and I’m already fucking someone else. He isn’t going to find out about this. Fuck, that would be hard to explain….
* * *
How would I explain this to Kate? ‘Oh, this goth princess was the only one to talk to at the show. I didn’t know she wanted a shag until we got to her hotel room.’
“Here’s my hotel room!” She said without enthusiasm, opening the door and bringing Orlando out of his reverie. He smiled and followed her over the threshold. It wasn’t some big glamorous hotel room. It was a Holiday Inn. She also didn’t have much in the way of clothes. Just something to change into, it looked like. Her wardrobe was probably packed away somewhere for her.
“Do you want something to drink? I only have Pepsi.”
“Pepsi would be great.” She poured some into little plastic cups and handed one to Orli. He took a drink and set it aside.
“Uh, give me a minute to find… I think they’re here somewhere.” She rooted through a small bag. Orlando came up behind her. “Yes! I was right.” She spun around, almost knocking the actor over. She barely smiled. “Sorry. Here.”
He looked at the CD, the picture on the cover far from doing her justice. “Thanks.” He set it with the drink, but didn’t move his gaze.
Amy was quite possibly the scariest person he’d ever met. Orlando had a hard time not backing down. The way she just stood there and looked at him, her posture, her lack of facial expression, they were all challenging. How was he supposed to seduce someone that reminded him of an angry stone?
Amy was never good at this. She knew she was a bit intimidating, but that was just who she was. She tried a smile after it started to get awkward.
“Amy?”
“Yeah,” she replied, relieved that the silence had been broken.
“You make me nervous.”
She laughed softly. “Well that’s not exactly a ‘fuck me, baby’, but it’ll do.” Amy moved a little closer.
“See that?” He said, “It makes me nervous.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not exactly used to girls like you.”
“I’m fairly certain you’ve never met a girl like me.”
“You’re right.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
He shrugged, “I don’t know what you’re expecting. Did you even invite me up here for a drink and a shag?”
“No.”
“Oh,” his shoulders slumped.
“You forgot the CD.”
* * *
Aside from the way she dressed, her personality, and her being in a mainly male dominated profession, Amy was still nothing like other girls. She was demanding, sure, but she insisted on being the one in control. She initiated the kiss for example. She approached him, eyes dark from her makeup, the dim light of the room and his shadow. Her lips did not touch his, but rather crashed into them, though ‘crash’ implies sloppiness, when actually, it was very precise.
She probed his lips with her tongue. He opened them, feeling her teeth press into his lips through hers. Her hand grabbed at his shoulder, propelled him backward until he felt the desk against his thigh. Her body was flush with his, breasts and hard nipples pressed into his chest. He tried to match her expertly wriggling tongue with his own, but she sucked it into her mouth, closing her lips around it. He felt his cock leap in his trousers; he’d not known the muscle in his mouth was connected to the organ in his pants.
Amy pushed Orlando back until he lay on the desk… table… thing. She lay atop him, taking note that he was already semi-hard. She smiled into the kiss and withdrew slightly. He tried to follow her lips, but she moved to kiss his neck. His skin was a gorgeous tan-olive colour and smelled like smoke, alcohol and sweat.
She undid his jacket without looking, then set to the buttons on his shirt. Orlando sat up to shrug the jacket off, and she slid back to the floor. She kicked off her boots, tossing them to lie next to his jacket. Orlando stood up.
Amy took a step back to admire the man. He was thin, but his arms and upper body were strong, filling out the shirt nicely. She could see why thousands of teenage girls squealed over him. She almost wanted to squeal herself. She was having sex with him for fuck sake! Squealing, though, was quite unbecoming a rocker girl.
Orlando watched as she started to undo her corset. She didn’t need to see what she was doing, which helped him identify it as a favourite, one she practiced taking off. She tossed it and her arm warmers on the bed. Orlando stepped up and helped undo the dress so she might remove that.
Now that wasn’t fair. She had only a pair of jeans left, and he was still in that lovely ruffled shirt. His hands were at her waist. To even the score, she simply ripped at the fabric, causing buttons to fly off, but the shirt hung off him. He gaped.
“My mother gave me that shirt.”
“Good taste.” She drew a line from collarbone to earlobe with her tongue. “You too.”
Orlando shrugged the fabric to the floor and continued at her pants. They tied the race, but Amy was a sore loser. She pushed him back on the bed, crawling over him and pressing her mouth to his. She straddled him, feeling his cock, hard through his boxers and straining to be nearer to her wet heat.
Her hand moved to grope him, stroke him through the fabric. His hands deftly unsnapped her bra and cast it aside. His fingers stroked her labia through the silky underwear she had on, then sneaked under the elastic of the leg hole to slide inside her.
She moaned and though it did not have the beauty of her voice in mid-song, it possessed a completely different beauty. Orlando had not thought he could get harder, but he did, losing his breath in the process.
Her hand stopped stroking him when he probed inside her. She rested her chin against his shoulder and halfway lifted herself up to give him better access.
“Fuck,” she moaned when his fingers brushed her clit. He did it again and she shuddered. She tightened her grip on his cock the last time he touched her, then very suddenly, she released him and sat up.
Orlando was momentarily bewildered when she left the bed, but she quickly returned wuth a Trojan in her hand. He grinned and reached out to take it, but Amy put the wrapper in between her teeth and pulled the waist of Orlando’s boxers down, letting his erection spring free and then removed them entirely. She tore the wrapper with her teeth and placed the condom over his prick, sliding it down. She smiled when her touch made him moan.
‘That’s it,’ he thought. He’d had enough. He gripped her biceps and twisted his body to push her to the bed and roll on top of her. She gasped when she felt the head of his penis positioned outside her entrance. She removed her underwear.
Orlando pressed in slowly, gleefully watching her face grow slack as he filled her. He took a moment to grow used to the tight heat, but she was unwilling to wait. She clenched her muscles to give him enough incentive to get moving.
For the first bit, Orlando propped himself up with his arms and thrust hard into her, allowing Amy to just lay there, but a man’s upper body strength and endurance is not infinite. He lowered himself so their bodies were close and moved with less force, then Amy used this opportunity to meet him thrust for thrust.
Orli grit his teeth and was surprised to hear a low growl come from the back of his throat. His breaths were gasping. Amy was keening as his hips bruised into hers. She felt the end of his penis strike her cervix even as the latex rubbed her clit. She saw stars and went breathless with every stroke. Orlando’s fingers pulled at the ring through her right nipple, and his lips locked on her shoulder.
Amy cried when he pulled her nipple. He started to clench, her muscles tightening inadvertently due to his ministrations. She slammed her hips down onto him harder, legs wrapped around his waist for leverage, nails digging into her back.
Orlando knew what that meant, he redoubled his efforts using teeth on her shoulder, nails on her nipples, and twice the force thrusting into her.
“Orlando!” The name sounded strange on her tongue when she cried it, but the thought left her as her orgasm caused her to spasm, raking her nails up his back, leaving marks for sure.
He heard the cry, but his own was a whisper in comparison. “Amy,” his seed shot into the condom and he bit down on her shoulder, leaving an imprint of teeth. He rode out his orgasm to the sound of her laboured breathing.
“You bit me.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be, that was fun.”
* * *
In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullabies,
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple sky fly over me.
“Hey honey.” Orlando jumped at the hands that closed over his shoulder.
He turned and laughed. “You scared me.”
“Sorry. He, I didn’t know you liked Evanescence.” She fingered the CD jacket laying on the table next to him. She picked it up but didn’t open it. “It seems too… gothic for your tastes.”
He grinned. “A friend of mine gave it to me.”
“That was nice of him,” Kate mumbled, tossing the Jacket back down. “Come on, let me make you lunch.”
He nodded, “I’ll be right there.” She left the room. Orlando opened the CD jacket.
Next time try “Fuck me, Baby”! - Amy Lee