by Jolie Du Prè
She’s wearing turquoise flip-flops and a turquoise dress that sticks to her body. Her breasts are large, and she doesn’t wear a bra. I don’t think she’s wearing underwear either, because I can see the shape of her ass. Amber’s a free spirit, especially when it comes to her clothes. She never wears make-up, not that she needs it. And her hair is so long and straight it falls down to her butt.
“So, do you like what you’ve seen?”
“Yeah, your stuff is cool, Amber.”
She comes closer to me, looking into my face, with her big hazel eyes. I sense that she's going to kiss me, and she does. Her lips are on mine and she’s pressed her body against me, her breasts smashed against my chest. She smells fresh, like morning air. I breathe her in.
She pulls away. “Do you want me to stop?”
I look at her, but I don’t answer. I can’t. She has her hands on my waist, and now my pussy aches.
She grins. “I didn’t think so.” Then she puts her lips on mine again, and pulls me even closer.
“Has anyone seen Amber?” We hear someone shout.
“I’ve got to go, hon. The artist is being summoned! I’ll have to sneak into your room and continue this tonight.”
I watch her run off. I feel my heart beating; I’m wet under my arms and even more wet between my legs. I stand still for a few minutes, trying to relax. This is a different sort of high, but I like it.
* * * *
It’s almost midnight and I’m exhausted. Erin, another resident here, has been talking to me non-stop. She’s a nice girl, so I try to pretend like I’m interested, but I can’t stop thinking about Amber. She’s tied up with the show and hasn’t come back yet.
I can’t keep my eyes open anymore, so I say good-bye to Erin and go to bed. In the middle of the night, soft lips on my forehead wake me up. Amber has climbed on top of me.
“Amber…”
“Shhh…we don’t want to wake Delores.”
Delores is my roommate. She could sleep through a train wreck, so I knew she wouldn’t wake up, but I was still nervous.
Amber kisses me. She’s got her tongue inside my mouth, and I can no longer hold back. I put my hands in her hair and roll my tongue over hers. Then I gently squeeze her ass. I never thought I could get turned on by a chick, but that’s what’s happening.
All I’m wearing is a nightshirt. I never wear underwear to bed; it’s too uncomfortable. Amber has pulled the covers off of me, and now her hand is under my shirt and she’s touching my pussy.
“Mmmm...you’re so wet,” she whispers to me.
Her fingers are inside of me, and she’s moving them in and out. I start to moan, so Amber puts her hand over my mouth. Then she kisses my neck. When I spread my legs wider, she pushes her fingers even deeper inside of me.
My pussy feels like a volcano, and I don’t care if Delores wakes up or not. My legs are as wide as I can get them as I grind hard on her hand. She frees my mouth and kisses it. I'm so hot. I feel like I'm going to erupt, and I do, creaming all over her fingers. Amber’s hand is over my mouth again, muffling my cries. Fuck! I've never come that hard in my life.
She lies beside me and holds me. Delores lets out a loud snore and we both try not to laugh.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Amber whispers in my ear.
She puts the covers over me and kisses me on the cheek. Then she walks to the door and slips out, barely making a sound.
Chapter Five
They don’t know that Amber and I are fucking, that I’m addicted to her like the rocks that used to fry my brain. When I go to sleep, she’s in my dreams. When I wake up, I need her touch.
I want to be alone with her all the time. It’s too risky in the rooms, ‘cause the shelter doesn’t allow sex. So if we feel like spending money, we sneak off to a motel room after our jobs are over. If we don’t feel like spending money, we’ll go into a bathroom at some fast food place and lock the door. I’m not too keen on that option, ‘cause I don’t like staring at a toilet when I’m trying to kiss her.
But now we don’t have to do any of that because we’re moving out of the shelter. And we knew that as soon as we got the chance to leave, we’d find an apartment and move in together. It’s about two miles away. The rent is cheap, but it’s not a dump.
At thrift stores, we buy things for our place. Amber has a great eye and knows how to do stuff with very little money.
I’ve been staring at her all day while we shop. Sometimes I feel like a dude around her, like this is my woman and I want to take care of her.
It kills me the way she wears her dresses. Today it’s a dark blue one. You can’t see through it, and nobody knows she’s naked underneath. But I know.
When we get to the apartment, I’m gonna fuck her brains out.
* * * *
“Can you believe we’re finally here?” Amber asks as we eat our dinner at our kitchen table.
“Hurry up. I’ve got plans for you.”
“Oh, is that so? And what would those be?”
She brushes her hair out of her face, her elbow resting on the table. She’s got her chin on her hand and she’s staring at me. It’s come to the point that if she just looks at me in a certain way I start to cream. I stand up out of my seat. “Get in that bedroom right now!”
“But I have two strawberries I still need to eat,” she says with an innocent grin.
“I’m counting to five. If I get to five and you’re still sitting there, I’m gonna rip that dress right off of you.”
“No, no. I like this dress!” She stuffs the strawberries in her mouth, red juice all over her lips. “Okay, finished!” She gets up out of her chair and runs into the bedroom.
When I enter the room, her dress is already off and she’s lying on the bed naked, face down. She’s giggling into the pillow as I take off my clothes and throw them to the floor.
I climb on top of her and move her hair off her back so that I can kiss her skin. My lips move slowly down her spine until I get to the top of her butt. What I like most about Amber is how soft she is, all over. I grab her ass and squeeze it, and then I just want to bite it. So I do, very gently. She giggles some more when I do that, and then I’m licking the crease and going down so that I can get at her cunt.
That’s when she turns over and I’m staring at those tits, the biggest nipples I’ve ever seen. She’s so hot they’re sticking straight up. I pinch them while I kiss her lips. I can taste the strawberries. Her breath is ragged. I know she’s hot. I know she wants to come.
“How wet is that pussy?” I ask her. I could touch it, but I want her to tell me. I want to hear it.
“Go see for yourself,” she says.
I don’t rush to it. I take my time, kissing her stomach softly until I reach her patch of red hair. I can smell her. I want it. I never thought my face would ever be in a woman’s bush, but it’s in Amber’s all the time.
I drop down, nuzzle between her legs and push my face against her pussy, smearing it with her juices. Her sweet musk pulls me in. I like to be sucked, but she likes to get licked, so as she’s moving up and down against my face, my tongue is lapping at her swollen clit. She’s quiet. She doesn’t make noises like I do. But when she comes she squirts like a water gun. That’s how I know.
Chapter Six
I’m in the kitchen baking brownies. I never bake, but I thought it would be a nice treat for us. Amber comes home and doesn’t say anything to me. Instead she walks into the living room and sits in our big chair that we found at one of the thrift stores. She looks exhausted, like she’s been crying all day.
“Do you want a brownie?” I ask her.
“No.”
“What’s wrong?”
She doesn’t answer me.
“Amber, what is it?”
“Sometimes I feel so empty,” she says.
“What do you mean? Why?”
“Working at the art store is a joke. It’s not what I really want to do.”
“I know. But we ta
lked about a Master’s program and trying to get into some more shows?”
“You know I’ve barely sold any of my work, and I’ll never get into the school at the Art Institute. I’ll have to move away from here.”
“Amber, I told you I’d follow you anywhere. Apply to those other schools.”
“I’m just so tired, Hope. You’re the only thing that makes me happy right now.” She gets up, goes into our bedroom and closes the door.
* * * *
Amber has gotten deeper into the depression; either she’s crying or she’s quiet, like a shell. Whenever I’ve been depressed I don’t want anyone around me, but Amber lets me hold her, so that’s what I do.
The problem is I’m not home much. My life is different now.
When I was living at Cary, Chris referred me to a support group for drug addicts, and I’ve stuck with it. I've never fucked up at Arnie’s; in fact I’ve done so well they promoted me to Dining Room Manager. But the hours are long, and I can't always be there to keep Amber from falling apart.
Chris tried to help, but Amber won't respond. When she talks, she only wants to talk to me.
Today she refused to go to work again, and she tried to get me to stay home, too. I mean, I don’t do that shit anymore. These days I always show up for work and I’m always on time. So I had to leave her at home. I was worried about her all fucking day, couldn’t even think straight. I’d call to check in, but she wouldn’t answer the phone.
When I came home she hadn’t moved, in that same spot on the bed all day.
* * * *
Under a bunch of discarded papers I found it, a needle thrown into our kitchen trash can. All I can do is look at it. My heart feels like it’s falling to my feet.
Amber’s not home. She’s not at work, so I don’t know where she is. I sit here, waiting for her.
Two hours later, she shows up. People knew when I was on crack, but heroin is a weird fucking drug. I had no clue.
“Amber!” I scream. I’m holding the needle in my hand.
She’s standing there, staring at me.
“What the fuck is this?”
“Please don’t yell at me,” she says.
“I don’t want it. Tell me you don’t want it!”
She doesn’t say anything.
“Amber…shit…talk to me!”
“I want it,” she says.
Dead silence. I know she wants it, but I didn’t want to hear it.
“Don’t leave me,” she says. Tears fall down her face.
“Amber, I won’t leave you.” Now I’m crying too. “But you’ve got to let me help you, honey. I love you. Will you try?”
“Yes...I’ll try.”
Epilogue
We’re sitting outside of the clinic at a picnic table. It’s warm and the flowers are just beginning to bud. Several other picnic tables surround us, occupied with visitors and residents. The sun is shining, so everything is bright. The grass is still a deep green, not yet burnt by a summer’s heat.
I like the way Amber’s hair blows gently in the wind. She’s been at rehab for about three months. I miss her, but things are going good for her here. It’s expensive, but Amber’s folks agreed to pay for the whole thing.
“I only have about twenty-five minutes before I have to go back in,” Amber says.
“You look really good, baby. I miss you.”
“They think I’ll be well enough to leave in about two weeks.”
“I know. I’m counting the days. Hey, I’ve got something for you.” I reach into my pocket and pull out a box. I’m feeling like a dude again, but this is something that I’ve thought about for a long time. I open the box.
“Rings! Are you asking me to marry you?”
“Something like that. Look, you’re the one who turned me out, remember? There’s no going back now.”
We both laugh.
“Let’s move to England. We can get married like Elton John!” Amber says.
“England? Hell, no. I’m afraid to fly.”
“You are? You never told me that.”
“Well…you’ve got the rest of your life to find out interesting things about me. That is if you say yes.”
“Ummm, let me think. Okay, yes!”
She grabs the box and takes the rings out. We put them on our fingers.
“These are beautiful! Where did you find them?”
“I had them made.”
“Cool. Shall we kiss?”
“In front of all these people?”
“Yes, but only if you give me a long, juicy one.”
And that’s exactly what I do.
END
About the Author
Jolie du Pré’s erotica has appeared on the Web, including Scarlet Letters and the Galleries of the Erotica Readers and Writers Association, and in print in Hot & Bothered 4, Down & Dirty Volume 2, and Best Bondage Erotica 2.
