As she reached me, I drew her to me. She settled half on and half off me.
I felt the pressure of her young breasts on me, her delicate weight, the warmth of a young girl.
She smiled as my hand cupped a gorgeous panty-covered ass, the other on her back.
I didn't miss how, as she kissed me softly, her knee eased up my legs to settle over the lump of my erection. I couldn't control its response; a strong flex. Amelia's eyes closed.
Her mouth opened, and yet again, I found myself in a deeply sensual kiss, so very arousing. Another thrill hit me when Amelia pressed her pussy against my side, a clear sign of her arousal, and I was helpless.
I moved my hand off her bottom and up her side. Kissing her deeply, erection straining under the sheet, I cupped her delicate breast over her cotton camisole and shuddered.
It was my first intimate touch of Amelia, my first touch of a fourteen-year-old girl transforming through adolescence, and it was an incredible experience;
her breast so petite, firm, so intensely feminine. My hand was far too large, her breast far too small, yet I couldn't remember being so excited. It was illicit and thrilling.
Amelia trembled slightly at my touch. Her tongue talked, telling me she liked my intimate caress, how excited she was.
She murmured into my mouth, her fresh breath wafting against my cheek. Kissing her was so incredibly sexy.
Disorienting arousal, like a sea fog, rolled towards me, slowly enveloping me with dreams of full intimacy; Amelia my lover.
In my mind's eye I saw us together; a slender young girl naked against me. My erection pulsed with excitement.
Rufus gagged loudly and vomited, completely ruining the mood.
The kiss ended. "There's something wrong with Rufus," Amelia said, her eyes full of worry, all heat now gone.
With a sigh, we separated. I sat up and peered over the foot of the bed.
Rufus was licking the bare hardwood floor like it was an ice cream cone, two piles of undigested dinner next to him. He turned and looked at me, his eyes so expressive.
There was no happy grin, just a weak tail wag, an "I'm sorry, Mike, but I don't feel good."
Now concerned, I reassured him, "I think we"ll take you to the vet, just to be sure. Okay?"
Rufus wagged his tail slightly and went back to washing the floor.
Two hours later, Amelia and I waited in the examining room at Beverly Hills Animal Clinic, a one-story tan stucco, faux Spanish-style building off Sunset Boulevard.
"He'll be alright, won't he?" Amelia asked with worry in her eyes.
If she could have carried the fifty-pound puppy, she would have. I had that honor, and, while holding him in my arms as we entered the clinic, I realized, I, too, had grown to love him.
"He'll be fine," I assured her.
"I wonder what's wrong with him?"
"A belly full of stones, I'd bet."
Dr. Jameson, a slender young man who looked as if he'd graduated high school only last week, entered the examining room carrying an x-ray. He smiled. "Well, I think we've found the problem."
He slipped the x-ray onto a light box and pointed. "This is the problem."
I stared at the point of his finger. Amelia leaned in, too. All I saw was a bright, white, blank spot, like a hole in the x-ray, and unidentifiable shapes in shades of gray around it.
Tapping the x-ray, he said, "This is sitting in Rufus' stomach. We're not sure what it is, but it's metallic. Can you see how bright it is? That's a sign of metal. Has he eaten anything?"
Dr. Jameson looked at us. I shrugged. "Not that much. The flagstone patio, a pair of shoes ... Stuff like that."
"And part of the pool noodle," Amelia added. "And Mike's Smartphone." After some thought she added, "And several sheets of music, and twigs, and a bathroom sponge."
Dr. Jameson smiled with amusement. "He's a puppy. He'll eat anything. You should train him not to.
Anyway, we're going to put him under a general anesthetic and see if we can remove that metal object through his esophagus.
But," he warned, "if it's too large, we'll have to operate on him to remove it. Hopefully, that won't be the case." Noticing Amelia's forlorn look, he placed his hand on her shoulder and said, "Don't worry. It's not serious. Rufus will be as right as rain in a couple of days."
"When will you operate?" Amelia asked.
"This afternoon. I'll call you and let you know how it goes and you can pick him up late tomorrow."
A subdued Amelia responded with a quiet, "Kay."
She was silent on the way home, at one point asking, "He's not going to die, is he?"
When I heard morose piano music coming from the living room, I decided distraction was in order. I'd take her to Rodeo Drive.
Later, while strolling and window shopping, Amelia not that interested, her iPhone trilled a musical number. She answered.
Her smoky gray eyes lit up behind frameless glasses. A smile emerged that brought sunshine to her face.
I watched her whole posture change; shoulders straightening, spine stiffening, and a lightness return to her steps.
Okay. Thanks!" She turned to me. "Rufus is okay! They had to operate on him but he's awake. We can get him tomorrow. Isn't that great?"
She hugged me tightly, let me go, and danced some weird dance that looked like she was having an epileptic fit.
It looked ridiculous and it made me grin broadly. I'd just discovered another flaw; she had no coordination ... none! I loved it!
"Let's go shopping," she exclaimed, grabbing my hand.
Aiming us towards the nearest clothes boutique, Amelia yanked me back towards the car. "Let's go to PetSmart. I want to get Rufus some toys. Maybe we can buy him a bed, too."
I was exhausted by the time we arrived home. Amelia was a world-class shopper and no effort was too great for her beloved Rufus. We'd covered three pet stores and she'd inspected every dog bed;
plush, denim, leather, wicker. Either the bed was the wrong color, the wrong size, the material not comfortable enough, or wouldn't keep him cozy enough.
I pointed out Rufus was a dog, he'd sleep on concrete. Amelia informed me I knew nothing about Rufus' feelings. Eventually, she found a large corduroy beanbag bed that met her demanding criteria.