Amichu Read online

  Amichu

  A Phaze Samba Short by

  Alessia Brio and Will Belegon

  Phaze 6470A Glenway Avenue, #109 Cincinnati, OH 45211-5222

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  eBook ISBN 1-59426-605-0 Amichu © 2006 by Alessia Brio and Will Belegon All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No

  part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Cover art © 2005 by Stacey L. King

  Phaze is an imprint of Mundania Press, LLC.

  www.Phaze.com

  Bruce woke to bright sunshine on his face and, before remembering he was tethered to Mandy, rolled over. The clamp pinched as it slipped off his nipple, pulling a few hairs out in the process. His yelp woke Mandy, who sat up and disconnected the other end of the nipple clamps from her own bare chest. "Is it too early to say, 'I told you so'?" "Hey, it was worth a try, Man. It was the first good thunderstorm we've had since that crazy mattress picnic night. I couldn't pass up the opportunity. Don't you want to repeat the whole body swap experience? I sure as hell do. And, y'know, if we can consistently duplicate the conditions and patent a process, we'll be rich. Filthy lucre to feed our filthy appetites!" Bruce attempted the Belushi eyebrow wiggle, with comical results, and Mandy laughed as she swatted him with a pillow.

  "And, what if we couldn't get switched back again? What then? Much as I adored fucking you senseless, I'd rather be the female me."

  "Yeah, and I prefer being your sexy, insatiable stud attorney—but there was so much we didn't even get a chance to try! We could spend many a thunderstorm exploring one another from the other side."

  "Look at it this way—most couples don't even get one such opportunity. We're way ahead of the game." Mandy stood, stretched, and turned toward the bathroom. "Scrub my back?" she called over her shoulder. "Woof! Or," he grinned, "should I say 'woofa'?" "Come into my chambers, counselor. I'll give you that verdict after you've

  presented your case." With a wink, Mandy sauntered toward the shower. Bruce admired her retreat. "Yes, Your Honor! Although my closing arguments aren't nearly as impressive as yours. I'll certainly do my best, though, to persuade you to drop the charges…um…soap."

  "Oh, what a nice sidebar!" she giggled as she turned on and adjusted the water. "Though we still have to pack, we do have quite a few hours before we need to be at the airport—even with an international flight—so you can take your sweet time arguing before this bench."

  Grabbing two handfuls of ass, Bruce pushed Mandy into the shower and followed. "I knew there was a good reason I chose this career. Your Honor, your docket excites me to no end…and your chambers? Well, they make me wish you'd bang my gavel! Now, if you don't mind, please allow me demonstrate what a skilled orator I am."

  They stood together under the shower spray, embracing and acclimating to the hot water for a few moments before Bruce nudged Mandy toward the wall opposite the shower spigot. He lifted one of her legs and placed her foot on the tub's ledge. "Lean back against the wall, Man, and close your eyes. After all, I've heard that justice is blind."

  When she complied, Bruce adjusted the showerhead so that the spray landed directly on Mandy's breasts and, without further ado, dropped to his knees. His gaze fell upon the casual array of sex toys cluttering the corner shelf; just a few of the many products he and Mandy evaluated for possible addition to the retail inventory ofErotique—Mandy's infamous sex toy shop and museum. He selected a curved silicone dildo. Its length allowed a comfortable grip for slow, steady thrusting to supplement his planned assault on her clit.

  He held it in the water to warm it while the fingers of his other hand probed to gauge Mandy's readiness. She groaned softly, and Bruce spent a little while just enjoying her mounting excitement before replacing his fingers with the toy. As he parted her smooth pussy lips with his tongue, her hand sought the grab bar installed for that very purpose. Her knuckles turned white and her cries echoed off the tile as Bruce showed her just how much he'd learned in his short time as her lover.

  "Now, see what you've done?" she teased when he rose. "We're running out of hot water, and we haven't even washed yet!"

  Bruce planted a kiss on the nape of her neck, then reached for the shampoo. "Small price to pay for that kind of breakfast. The breakfast of champions!" he shouted.

  "Tomorrow morning," Mandy remarked as she turned off the water, "we'll be having breakfast in the southern hemisphere. It's winter in Santiago right now, y'know."

  "Yeah, but that's more like our late spring weather here. We won't need heavy clothing." Bruce stepped from the shower, handed her a towel, and grabbed another for himself. "See? You're not the only one who's been reading the guide books. I picked up one for mainland Chile and one for Mata Nui."

  "That's Rapa Nui, Counselor. I'd be very surprised to find an ancient sex toy at LegoLand. However, that Bionicle stuff really does have some seriously sexual overtones. Anyway, from what I heard, the Chilean government is kinda shying away from the Polynesian place names. Even the travel agencies now use 'Easter Island' almost exclusively. The Polynesian purists rely on the Internet to keep the names alive."

  As they took turns drying one another's backs, Bruce recited, "Easter Island, also known as Rapa Nui, is a small, triangular, multi-volcanic mound, roughly fourteen miles long by seven miles wide. It lies twenty-four hundred miles west of the coast of Chile and twenty-five hundred miles east of Tahiti. That's, like, from here to Las Vegas, Man! Its inhabitants have the honor of being the remotest population on the face of the Earth."

  Mandy grinned and threw her towel at him. "Show off! I only had time to read the section on weather—so I'd know what to pack. I figured I'd read the rest during the flight, since I can never sleep on airplanes."

  "Don't forget the letter. We'll need it to prove we're who we say we are. Y'know, Man, I really think you should let that ol' professor know Vivian's dead before we show up on his doorstep. Your note'll have him expecting her—not us."

  "No, I want to tell him in person. I get the impression from his letter that they were more than colleagues—maybe much more. And there's something odd about the whole situation. I mean, why the secrecy?"

  Bruce shrugged. "Well, from what you've told me about your Aunt Viv, she got around—and if an old lover wants to donate something to Erotique, I'm certainly not gonna complain. Where'd you put it? I want to read it again."

  "In my carry-on with our passports. Read it aloud," Mandy requested as Bruce fetched the letter. "Maybe I'll pick up on something I missed earlier."

  Dearest Vivian,

  I trust this missive finds you well. Though it has been many years, rest assured that I think of you fondly and often. I took my retirement in 1998 from Universidad de la Frontera and have since made my home in Santiago, where I now spend my time in quiet study.

  I could not help but notice Erotique's favorable mention in Bryn Mawr's archeological journal. I heartily congratulate you on the success of your erotic antiquities venture. In fact, that is why I write this letter.

  Do you recall the huamanga carving I recovered from the Ayacucho excavation, the one you so admired? I would like to propose it be added to Erotique's permanent collection. My reasons are many and I would prefer not to discuss them via post. Would you please do me the honor of a visit at your earliest convenience?

  Should you agree, I a
lso urge you to include Easter Island on your itinerary. There have been some notable discoveries there of late, which I believe will be of interest. Were I able to travel, I would accompany you. However, I am no longer the spry young man of your memory. My protégé and dear friend, Dr. Olga Sanchez Rojas, has volunteered to serve as your tour guide, as she lives and works on the island.

  I look forward to seeing you again. Until then, I remain…

  Yours Truly,

  Professor Eduardo Rojas Aguilar

  "Okay, so maybe there is more to this than meets the eye," Bruce conceded.

  "It really does have an Indiana Jones air of intrigue about it." "Yes, it's quite cryptic—as though he's afraid it'd be intercepted. I suppose if he doesn't know that Aunt Viv's passed, he also wouldn't know if she was in a relationship or not. So that could account for part of the tone. But there's definitely something more there at the end. Even if this artifact were very valuable, it'd still be less expensive—and just as safe—to ship it with a specialty courier. No, he wanted Viv to come in person, and he's hiding his real reasons. It may have nothing to do with the carving at all."

  "I agree, Man. Easter Island is the real point of the letter, but I looked at all the current event web pages and a lot of specialty stuff about recent archeological discoveries. There's nothing in any of the journals about anything new on Rapa Nui. And then there's the matter of his so-called protégé. Why include her full name? Would your Aunt have recognized it?"

  "I have no idea. I suppose we'll find out in the morning when we first meet Professor Eduardo." "Professor Rojas Aguilar." "What's that, stud?" Bruce grinned at the endearment, but then put on his "lawyer" mask—the more serious expression he wore when he wanted it understood he was talking business and not joking around.

  "Until he gives you permission to use his first name, use his last. Both of them. Chile is very formal when it comes to social etiquettes. Also, that reminds me, we should both take business cards—and use the holder I got for you. It's very bad form to have a tattered card," Bruce smiled to remove some of the sting of his sudden formality. "One of the rare benefits of being a member of the state bar is access to the database about international customs."

  "Well, that just reinforces my belief that Professor Rojas Aguilar knew my aunt very well." "How's that, Man?" "Given what you just said about formality, what are the odds that a business

  associate from twenty years ago would open a letter with 'Dearest Vivian'?" "Good point. There is definitely more going on here than meets the eye. Okay, that settles it! Hurry up and finish packing. I wanna make an extra stop on the way to the airport." "What? Why?" Bruce grinned maniacally. "To buy a fedora and bullwhip of course!" "Oh, whatever. Boys!"

  * * *

  "Hey, Man. Get some sleep, will ya?" "I told you, I can't sleep on planes. I've been reading up on our host and our

  destination—the real one, not Santiago." "So we agree that our soon-to-be friend the Professor has Easter Island in

  mind for us, then?" "Has to be. Bruce, I've read an awful lot about our benefactor in the last few hours, and the tone of that letter doesn't fit with what I've read. This is not a man who seems like he has anything to hide. He is incredibly well respected in his field, and the only time he ever did anything unusual was thirty-five years ago. That was when he made his great discovery." "The one where he found this figure he wants to give to Erotique?" "Yes. He was digging near Ayacucho when he stumbled onto something that had somehow been completely overlooked—a tomb that was the Incan equivalent of King Tut's. Completely untouched by grave robbers and intact back to its original sealing. He was very careful and meticulous in his cataloging of every pebble or footprint. The dig is now used as an example of how a new discovery should be treated. It's literally textbook—no outside contamination."

  "Hmm. So how come I've never heard of this guy if he discovered this wonderful tomb full of gold and silver?"

  "Oh, no. It wasn't like King Tut in that way. It was just unspoiled. Sure, there were some beautiful things, but the real value is archeological. It was the tomb of a legend, the daughter of Pachacuti. He was one of their greatest kings, credited with aggressively expanding the empire. He sent his own son as far away as Ecuador and his most trusted commanders anywhere with the goal of expanding the borders. Within three generations after him the Inca ruled most of South America." "And the daughter?" "Until her tomb was discovered, she was believed to be a legend. Pachacuti introduced a radical change in the way wealth was inherited by adopting the Chimú practice of split inheritance. It meant that one heir received the political advantages and any others, the material. So his son would be king, but whoever married his daughter would be rich. It created quite a competition for her hand." "I can imagine it did." "The stories that made it down to our times about Pachacuti's daughter all indicate that she would accept no suitor. She rejected everyone for many years and died childless, and her wealth reverted to her brother. Because such stories are often told as cautionary tales, it was thought by many that she had never truly existed."

  "Fascinating stuff. Now, will you at least try to get some sleep? I've had my chance and…Okay, what's so funny?"

  "Everybody on the plane knows you've slept. Look around! See how empty it is back here?"

  "Well, I hadn't noticed, but…" Bruce looked at the surrounding seats. Overnight flights were often scarcely populated, but with the exception of one overweight gentleman snoring quietly a couple rows up, the two of them had the back of the plane to themselves. "I had a snoring fit again, huh?" "The loudest I've ever heard, but that might just be due to the fact that we're in an echo chamber. You make less noise than that when we're doing other things in bed." "Well, nothing to be done about it now. C'mon, Man, lights out." "I can't relax enough on a plane, Bruce. I just can't. I've never been able to do

  it." "What if I relaxed you?" he asked as he switched off the overhead light. "What's that supposed to mean? You wouldn't…Oh, my! I guess you would.

  At least give me the blanket." "Don't try to tell me you weren't planning this all along, Man. Why else

  would you wear that long cotton skirt on a plane?" "Lots of reasons. Um, are you sure you want to…" "Take off your panties." "Come again?" "Yes, that's the whole idea. Now, reach under your skirt, slip your panties off,

  and give them to me." Mandy shrugged and handed Bruce her white cotton boy shorts, which he tucked into the seat pocket in front of him. "Y'know, Counselor, with your attentions in the shower this morning and now this," she purred as she spread the blanket across both their laps, "I'll bet you could use some attention yourself. And, I could certainly make a case that you also planned for easy access, given your own choice of attire. Did you think I wouldn't notice?" "Notice what, my dear?" "I know you never wear anything under jeans, Bruce. Here you gave me all this talk about a need for formality, and yet you wore jeans on the plane. Now there has to be a reason for that, doesn't there? Why else would you wear jeans?"

  "Lots of reasons. Yes, I believe those were your words. Hmm…and you were telling me about as much truth as I told you, judging by this." He pulled his hand from beneath her skirt and waggled a couple glistening fingers before her face before returning to the task at hand. "I'm gonna need a towel here. I wonder if the flight attendant would have…"

  Mandy stopped his words with a kiss as Bruce's fingers slipped inside her. He curled his thumb inside his palm so that it would rub her clit while he slowly started to slide his middle and ring fingers in and out.

  "Mmm, that's nice…but aren't you worried we're gonna get…um…worried we are going…oh…damn it, the hell with it! I don't wanna think about anything except what your fingers are doing. But you're not getting away without paying a toll this time."

  Mandy's hand slipped beneath the blanket to fumble with the belt on Bruce's jeans. By concentrating on a single move at a time, she managed to open the belt despite the distraction his fingers continued to provide. However, she did have to pause for a bi
t when he leaned in to nuzzle her neck. The zipper was easier, although it sounded dramatically loud and caused her to glance nervously toward the front of the aircraft.

  Bruce's teeth released their hold on Mandy's neck as her fingers curled around his hard shaft, and she gave a slight squeeze. She laughed quietly, "Okay, Counselor. Let's see whose concentration falters first. I think it's gonna be yours, unless…oh, my!...unless you do that a few more times."

  Bruce pulled his fingers away and circled them around her clit before slipping them back in and trying to curl them to again hit the place that had just brought such a gratifying response. When he felt he could reach no further, he pushed up again, and Mandy's hips rose off the seat. Her jaw dropped and a quiver found its way to her lower lip.

  Confident he had again found the place he was searching for, he tried to tuck his thumb back to flick against the hard nub, but the angle made it impossible. He abandoned the illusion of propriety and slid down in his seat so that he could slip his other hand beneath her skirt and use it to rub her clitoris.

  Pushing on both spots together sent a tremor through Mandy's thighs, and they locked. The hand that had been wrapped around him flew to her mouth. He watched as her eyes squeezed tightly shut and her teeth bit into the flesh of her own hand to keep from crying out. He felt her pulse beneath him several times before her legs relaxed, and her eyes fluttered open to fix him with a hungry gaze. "What?" he said teasingly. "What did I do? I'm just an innocent little…" "Shut up and watch that I don't get interrupted, you son of a bitch. It's my turn to make you swallow your own tongue." Mandy pushed Bruce back into the seat and began to kiss her way down the front of his chest. "Man, that's really not nec…" "I said shut up! Now watch out for the flight attendants and our snoring

  friend. I don't want to any interruptions." Mandy's head slipped beneath the blanket, and Bruce struggled to keep his eyes open as she took his cock into the warm sleeve of her mouth. She didn't hesitate, but buried it quickly. He gasped out loud as it hit the back of her throat, before realizing where he was and controlling the urge to make any more noise—a decision that got progressively more difficult. The small sounds of suction and her muffled vocalizations moved him closer and closer to the edge. The fast and furious way she sucked his cock combined with the daring of the situation to pull him beyond the point where he could hold back. "I'm gonna come, baby. Did you want…?" Mandy paused just long enough to whisper from under the blanket, "Where