Chapter 55 #2
Bel grinned, and it struck her how different Bel was from the poised, untouchable figure she’d first encountered two nights before. Naked, slightly sweaty, hair a mess, she was warmer, less guarded, the dry wit surfacing freely. Amy liked this version of her.
“I do have a question though,” Bel continued, looking between them. “Is this a one-off? I’m fine either way, but I’d rather know now than wonder about it for the next six months.”
Amy looked at Luisa, and Luisa looked at Amy. “Not a one-off,” Amy said. “If you want it again.”
Bel raised her glass. “Noted.” She drained it and set it down. “Right. Whose turn is it?”
“Yours,” Amy and Luisa said simultaneously.
“How delightful.” Bel lay back against the pillows, arms behind her head, and looked at them both expectantly. “Well? I’m not going to pleasure myself.”
***
If Amy’s orgasm had been the warm-up, Bel’s was the starring act.
Luisa started, because she knew what Bel liked, and Amy watched, learning, seeing how Luisa moved her mouth on Bel’s body, the places she went, the reactions she drew.
Bel was less restrained than Amy had expected, more vocal, her poise dissolving as Luisa’s tongue found the spots she knew from years of practice.
“Right there,” Bel breathed, one hand gripping the sheet, the other in Luisa’s hair. “God, you always know exactly…” Her hips shifted and she let out a moan. “Don’t you dare stop.”
Amy moved closer, her mouth on Bel’s neck, one hand on her breast, and she felt the moment Bel noticed the additional sensation… a sharp intake of breath, a turn of her head to look at Amy with eyes that were brighter than before.
“You,” Bel said to Amy, her voice more breathless than before, “are going to be trouble. I can tell.”
“Good trouble?”
“The worst kind.” Bel pulled Amy in for a kiss, fierce and hungry, biting gently at Amy’s lower lip, and Amy felt it like an electric shock all the way through her body.
“Can you show me what she likes?” Amy asked Luisa. Luisa’s eyes widened and Bel let out a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a moan.
Luisa took Amy’s hand and slipped it between Bel’s legs, showing her the pressure, the rhythm, the spots that made Bel’s breathing change. “Here,” Luisa murmured, “and then when she’s close, like this.” She adjusted Amy’s fingers and Bel’s hips jerked.
“God,” Bel muttered, “you’re giving her lessons? That’s… oh God, that’s good.”
“She’s a fast learner,” Luisa said, grinning at Amy.
“Let me,” Amy said, and Luisa rolled to one side, settling back on one elbow with her wine glass, watching with obvious enjoyment as Amy took over.
Amy combined what Luisa had just shown her with the techniques she’d honed over recent months, first with her fingers and then, moving herself lower, with her tongue. She teased Bel, built her up and let her down, a rhythm learned from doing this with both Sarah and Luisa.
Bel, it turned out, wasn’t shy about directing.
“Harder,” she said at one point, her hand tight in Amy’s hair.
“And you can use your fingers at the same time, I’m not…
oh fuck.” She broke off as Amy did exactly that, two fingers sliding inside her while her tongue kept working.
“Oh, that’s very good. Don’t stop doing that.
” She paused. "Oh, that's very good indeed. "
Amy didn’t stop. She could feel Bel building, could feel her body tensing, could hear her breathing growing ragged, and then Bel came with a cry that she made no attempt to muffle, her hips rising off the bed, one hand clenched in the sheet and the other still in Amy’s hair.
It was nothing like the controlled, untouchable woman who’d been leaning against the bar three hours ago.
Amy didn’t let her recover. She softened her touch but kept going, her tongue gentle, coaxing, and within a minute Bel was building again, faster this time.
“She’s going to…” Bel started, talking to Luisa as if Amy weren’t there, “is she always… oh, fuck…” and she came again, her body shaking, a moan that broke down into breathless laughter.
Amy kept on going, relentless, feeling Bel’s body respond again and again, a third, a fourth, Bel getting louder each time, her upper-class composure completely demolished, saying things that would have made her boarding school teachers faint.
“Fucking hell,” Bel gasped after the fifth, actually pushing Amy’s head away because she couldn’t take any more, her body shaking. “Stop, please, I beg you. You’re going to kill me.”
Amy climbed back up the bed, pleased with herself, and Bel looked at her with genuine shock. “Luisa,” she said, still catching her breath, “where on earth did you find this goddess?”
Luisa, who'd been watching all this time with her wine, laughed. “A nightclub in West Hollywood.”
“Good God.” She looked at Amy. “If you’re ever at a loose end in London, I live in Belgravia and I have a very comfortable bed. I’m serious.”
Amy grinned.
“I really am serious,” Bel added, and Amy realised that she actually meant it.
***
They ended up on the balcony, all three of them, naked in the warm night air, sharing another bottle of wine that Bel had got dressed and wandered down to the bar for.
The stars were out in full and the sea was dark and calm below them.
Their only concession to modesty was that they left the lights off, but it was fine anyway… the balcony was private.
“I’m never going back to England,” Amy announced. “I’m going to stay here forever. I’ll live on this balcony and I’ll eat Italian food, and neither of you are allowed to leave.”
“She’s a romantic,” Bel said to Luisa.
“She really is.”
“One of her many qualities, if the last hour is anything to go by.” Bel stretched her legs out on the railing and took a sip of wine. “You two are a good match. I mean that.”
“Thank you,” Luisa said, and Amy could hear that the compliment from Bel meant more than if it had been from anyone else.
Bel was the person who’d known Luisa the longest in this context, who’d seen her through years of casual hookups and professional engagements, and her blessing, because that’s what it was, mattered.
“Can I ask you something?” Amy said to Bel.
“You can ask. I might not answer.”
“Who’s your Amy?”
Bel’s gaze shifted to Luisa briefly, and she moved in her seat. There was just the faintest crack in her cool exterior. “We don’t normally talk about that side of things.”
“You don’t have to,” Amy replied. “But if you want to I’m curious.”
Bel sat in silence for a long few moments, and Amy thought she’d overstepped the mark.
But then she spoke. “There’s someone. Two people I guess.
Clem and Saskia, I live with them. But we’re complicated…
Saskia has someone. Clem doesn’t. We’re difficult to categorise, but we’ve known each other forever and we’re always there for each other. ”
“You don’t like categories?” Luisa asked gently.
“I don’t like categories, feelings, labels, or extended emotional conversations.” Bel took a drink. “But Clem seems to be somewhat intent on teaching me. Against my will and better judgment.” There was the faintest smile. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”
They sat in silence for a while, the night wrapped around them, and Amy felt a sense of contentment so profound it almost hurt.
Here she was, naked on a balcony in Amalfi, the woman she loved on one side and this surprising, complicated, very beautiful woman on the other, the Mediterranean below them and the stars above, and everything felt, for the first time in months, like it was exactly where it was supposed to be.
Then Luisa leaned over and kissed Amy’s neck, and Bel watched them with an expression that was part amusement, part hunger, and things got less contemplative very quickly.
***
What started as a slow kiss between Amy and Luisa escalated when Bel put down her wine and said, “Right, I can’t just watch this,” and then somehow, in a tangle of limbs and laughter, Amy found herself on one of the balcony chairs with Luisa straddling her lap and Bel kneeling next to them, her mouth on Luisa’s neck while Amy’s hands explored them both.
It rapidly turned into Luisa’s turn, and Amy and Bel were merciless.
Amy’s fingers found their way between Luisa’s legs while Bel’s hands were on her breasts, both of them teasing and building her up, Luisa’s mouth switching between Amy’s and Bel’s.
Luisa wasn’t being quiet, her gasps and moans echoing off the stone walls and probably carrying to the balconies nearby.
“Louder,” Bel whispered into Luisa’s ear, loud enough for Amy to hear. “Let them all hear. Let every person in this hotel know exactly what we’re doing to you.”
Luisa groaned, and Amy increased the pressure, loving the sight of Luisa caught between the two of them, two women who desired her in different ways working together.
Luisa started babbling in Spanish, fragments that Amy caught, por favor, no pares, más, and Bel was murmuring into her ear, a stream of increasingly filthy encouragement that made even Amy blush, all in that impeccable accent that made every obscenity sound like it was being delivered from the front of the Oxford Union.
“Are you going to cum for us?” Bel whispered. “Both of us, watching you, touching you, you gorgeous, wonderful creature?”
Luisa came with a shuddering cry, her body clenching around Amy’s fingers, her hands gripping Amy’s shoulders hard enough to leave scratch marks.
Amy felt Bel’s arms tighten around Luisa from behind, holding her steady, the three of them locked together while Luisa ground herself against Amy’s hand.
As the last tremors passed through her and Luisa slumped forward against Amy’s chest, breathing hard, there was a sharp crack and the balcony chair lurched sideways, one of the legs giving way beneath the combined weight of three women.
They tumbled, not far, but enough that they ended up in a heap on the balcony floor, limbs everywhere, the broken chair on its side beneath them.