Amelia's Awakening

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 Bingo walks to see the woman he has been fantasizing about for months and the results are better than expected.


Bingo turned the end of the conversation with Fred over in his mind as he started his walk.

“It’s all about how you take the stage..”

“What?”

“I think I have to go. All this talk about you, and your dating profile, it’s compounding my own… stench of… of desperation. It might not work out but I have to get out there you know?”

“No.”

“Well I’m gone, I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“You do that. Good chat. Thanks for dinner.”

Bingo made his way up Victoria Rd and turned right onto Nicholson. His feet ate up pavement, clomp, clomp, clomping into the night. Relieved to be finally on his way Bingo lengthened his stride. Accustomed to forgettable landscapes rushing past his tram windows, here there was space and effort, each morsel of the journey magnified by his tediously short footfalls; the old Moreton Bay’s in the park, the museum’s off-kilter monolithic slab of a roof and breaks in the heavy traffic made it a bearable hike.

2am by anyone standards isn’t necessarily kosher for a house call. Bingo began to forget about the fresh, cold air on his face and to obsess about his reception, this was the only thing to do, anything else and he’d always wonder at what had never taken place.

Bingo hadn’t been avoiding Amelia but he had certainly failed to let her know how much she might mean to him. A part of Bingo fretted, more anxious than he had ever been. Beers had helped. He blocked out his own disquiet with the slap of his beetle-crushers on the paving slabs, the sound of his own breath.

Passing a petrol station made him feel like a fish in an aquarium with fluro gravel. Out of whack with the serene quiet all around, neon's shone diligently for nobody. He dove gratefully back into the comparative darkness of night. On and on, clomp clomp-ing measuring one deliberate footfall after another.

Bingo paused on a bus bench, ran his hands over his face and felt the last of the warm alcohol buzz leave his body.

He was committed to his feat now, a punishment no less than what he deserved, weeks ago he should have explained to Amelia his social awkwardness, his propensity to procrastinate, his unshakable commitment to stupid mistakes that too often ended up as life choices because he allowed time frames to stretch and then found there was no room for recourse.

Bingo wasn’t wealthy enough to consider taking a cab so he plodded, meticulously using up all of his energy. He tried not to plan. He simply made his way to the door of her studio and when he arrived, he knocked. He sat down on the step and stretched his toes in damp socks, wondering about blisters. In those few moments he sought for poise and as though mocking him, it started to rain. The sensation of stopping sharpened as he cooled, almost paving the way for regret. Almost.

And then the door opened.

Bingo bounced to his burdened feet and turned, smiling willfully with the last of his reserve.

“Wow” Amelia spoke sleepily.

Her hair wild, a light blue snug singlet around her shapely breasts and faded cotton pyjama pants hanging low off her hips. In the evening air her nipples rose to attention.

“My eyes are up here”

When he met them, they were smiling. He cleared his throat.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you”

“Wait, wait. Before you turn this into something out of Love Actually just get inside.”

And just like that, Bingo followed mutely.

Pyjama-ed Amelia led him down narrow corridors, past a common room, he still didn’t say anything as she ushered him into her studio through to the rear of her cosy work filled space, into the small recessed bed chamber hidden by a false wall. There was no door. Even in the dim light it looked wonderfully comfortable. Amelia leant over to turn on a lamp. Bingo caught her arm.

“No it’s alright. You were sleeping, we can talk in this light, it’s early, or late. Or something.”

Amelia nodded, it was dark really, she said in a low voice “I’m nodding” and he laughed.

“Get into bed, take socks off, jeans too if you wish.” Her voice muffled as she tunnelled under a doona to resume her repose so recently abandoned it was still warm. Bingo sat with his back bowed, facing away from her, intent on removing his garments.

“I’m glad you fucking finally came” Amelia spoke to his grateful back. It straightened a little in response.

He turned then, landing his determined lips on hers, leaning in. Kissing her warm face with his cold one, all strength and earnestness. It was everything and nothing all at once. He blocked out reason, made their slow-building kiss dreamlike and a clumsiness borne of their newness to each others bodies, forgivable.

Bingo moved into the bed, closer to her body, so much warmer than his. Her hair pillowed around her face. Her skin, like the darkness, was all around him. When she grinned she was eyes and teeth. Bingo caught his breath. He almost couldn’t look, had never seen anything so beautiful. He wiped a big hand over the side of her face, touching her velvet skin, feeling the bouncy flesh of her bottom lip under his caress and then his lips were on hers again.

“Special” he mouthed very softly into the air between their faces. “I waited, I wanted it to be magic.”

“You almost waited too long. You dick.” Her long fingers curled around the back of his big neck. “Stupid, hesitant, romantic fool.”

Not wanting words, just rough wood-and-salt of his almost-facial hair and rich aniseed-ness of his midnight tongue, Amelia resumed their kissing, touching their mouths together, learning his lips. Her hip came to rest against his, one un-shy brown shin carelessly raised, her heel grasped to his bottom, unaware of what small moves did to him.

There was no humour in their awkwardness, his avid silence exposed a fragility in the big man belied by the strength of his growing erection. She uncurled a hand from around his neck and wove it down so her fingers swept the space between them, searching.

Bingo’s heart raced, the bedcovers suddenly unbearably hot. Amelia didn’t want to move them, only kept her hand moving slowly, intimately pawing his hip while his tongue and hers wove caresses like promises.

Finally her palm settled onto the length of his straining cock. Bingo withdrew his tongue in a rush, sucked her top lip and stopped. First she ran her hand over his meat. In the dim light his eyes were hooded, heavy lids threatening to hide what it was she wanted to see, an admission, a surrender.

“You push and push” she said softly “..and it might seem like you’ll never get what you want” her hand stroked his penis, curling around material and flesh as one, striving to feel more,clasp more in her hand. “And then in a moment you think, what was I waiting for?” 

Amelia could sense her timing was unfathomably good but she wasn’t sure she was bold enough to proceed.

Bingo rolled them both so he was propped on his forearms with Amelia under him. He lowered his head and captured her lips once more in a delicate kiss that was like chilli dark chocolate; full, honest and terrible. Bingo inhaled mightily letting the rushing air bypass them both out through his mouth. 

Fighting, Amelia liked to think, for control.

And then she shucked his boxer shorts and thrust aside her knickers. To hell with the waiting and the anticipation, she wanted a frantic rush-to-the-finish-line; stars, chaos and more than anything she thrummed for the feeling of his flesh wrapped in hers. Amelia pushed at his shoulders, Bingo moved. His broad torso lifted an arms length above her, the head of his cock at her slippery entrance coating himself in her excitement. Biding his beautiful time.

And then he wasn’t anymore. He was thrusting inside, hot breath on her neck, hard cock breaking her open. The pressure of her knickers pulled to one side added to the impression of illicit fullness; caught together in a surprisingly tight space. He withdrew and pushed back in and all sensation flooded her once more, unbearably good.

 As they fucked he was unguarded, his sloppy lips on her delicate face, unthinkingly intense. It was all happening so fast, this possessing her, this driving inside of her. Amelia arched up to meet his meat, Bingo's unfamiliar body underneath her hands; the cords of his arm muscles, a downy chest.

Bingo continued grinding, watching in wonder as she thrashed beneath him with her eyes closed. She was so bound up in the moment, constricted, delicately held in place and effortlessly, hopelessly aroused. His cock ached every time he pulled away from her, building and building the sensations inside him. For Amelia it felt like a fabulous, shapeless, nameless, niggling space, growing and growing, making her groan and writhe until she reached her point-of-no-return.

She opened her eyes, he wanted to stop fucking and kiss her (Amelia’s lips were delightfully red and swollen) but he felt as though he was caught up, racing towards a finish line, taking her with him as best he could, she gasped and wriggled, eyes locked on his.

He exploded before she did, she felt the inevitable release on her insides, rushing out as he thrust deep inside her, his cock twitching and growing at the last second to add to the molten gold of her mounting orgasm. She knew the ending was close, and as she rode him, rocking her hips to take whatever he had left of the magic, it took several rough strokes before the darkness crashed and splintered around her, sending shock waves through her body.

And whilst something was most definitely ending, something was also determined to continue and so Amelia came and came and shook and clutched him and the rumble of pleased laughter caught and died in Bingo’s chest as her fingers really wrenched at his overly-sensitized skin.

Eventually she let go. Eventually they both stopped and moved a little bit apart.

“Next time” Bingo said softly, his voice low and chocolate-toned “Next time I’ll be more about the foreplay. I just wanted to be inside you. I wanted your honey on my cock”

If she wasn’t spent and happy with the small river between her thighs , she might have straddled him right then. Instead her breath came out in a rush.

“Too much” Amelia offered lightly when she could form words. “Stop being amazing” and she slapped his barrel belly.

It wasn’t long before his arm stretched around her, he was big, it was almost too much of an angle for her to rest her head on his arm, nuzzled against the warmth of his chest. She bore it for the sake of not ruining a sated, beautiful end to an otherwise overwrought day.

With her mind roving sleepily over the last half hour, Bingo’s hand reached up and caressed the effervescence of her hair, brushing against one delicate ear.

He wanted to repeat the gesture but found he couldn’t because he slept.




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