Time After Time

At her house, Amber seized a bottle of wine with a couple of glasses and led me to her bedroom. She turned on a bedside lamp, casting a soft glow over the room which could have featured in one of these beautiful homes magazines. Let's just say that it was unashamed luxury. Being an IT expert with a company like Aliberts paid well, I guessed. Amber poured me some wine and settled me into a comfortable armchair. "Sit for a moment and enjoy the show," she instructed.

With her back to me, she undressed slowly but not fully. Having removed her jacket and trousers, Amber knotted her shirt just below her midriff and slowly peeled off her lacy black panties to reveal a perfect backside, two lovely globes which simply begged to be kissed and licked. I could see some sort of tattoo on them but because of the subdued light and her shirt I couldn't make out what they were. Amber turned to face me, throwing her arms out like a chorus girl ending her act. "Tah dah!"

Like her buttocks, her legs were flawless, long and smooth. As the old saying goes: 'Her legs reached all the way up to her armpits'. But it was her pussy that drew my eyes. A deep cleft with thick, pouting labia, it was completely bare and I could see that moisture was already glistening. Amber began to idly finger herself. "Your turn, Hal."

I started to undo the buttons of my shirt and she held up a hand to stop me. "Only the bottom stuff for the moment, Hal," she said, "There's something very sexy about the top half covered and the bottom half nude." Looking at her again, I decided she was right. I took off my jacket and slowly lowered my trousers, revealing my underwear. Nothing as exotic or erotic as Amber's I'm afraid—I tend to favour boyish boxer shorts as being more practical and comfortable. They also spare me the occasional problem of wedgies when I'm working. I wondered what Amber would think but I needn't have worried.

"I like those," she commented, "I'll have to try some myself one day. Carry on, Hal, let's see what you're made of."

I turned my back to remove the shorts and tied up my shirt the way Amber had hers before revealing myself to her.

She slid a finger into her pussy as she looked at me. "Hmmm! A little bit bushy down there, we'll have to do something about that but not right now. Okay, Hal, let's masturbate."

I was surprised. "Masturbate?"

"Yes." Amber waggled her fingers at me. "Masturbate. You know, fingers, pussy, put the two together and see where it leads you, hopefully an orgasm. I like to masturbate with a partner first, it gets you warmed for the main action to follow. Sit up on that end of the bed, I'll be at this end, and we can watch each other."

It's not a thing that would have occurred to me but I reckoned it could be an exciting way of displaying yourself to a partner. Amber splayed her legs, giving me a wonderful view of everything. She spread her pussy lips and slipped a finger inside herself. I didn't do anything immediately, being enthralled at the vision before me. After a few seconds she withdrew it and sucked off her juices. "That's nice. Come on, Hal, let's see you do it. I know..." She soaked her finger again then leaned forward, holding it to my lips. "This should get you going."

I took her finger into my mouth and licked up the thick nectar.

"Good, eh?" Amber asked.

"Yes, have some of mine." I reached in my slit, which had started to flow easily, and repaid Amber's offering.

"That's delicious, Hal. So let's go for it."

I eased kitty open with two fingers and started to play with my vagina and clit as Amber did the same to herself. Maybe she was right. Perhaps I was a little too luxuriant down below but it had never occurred to me to trim or shave. However, the sight of Amber's naked puss did make it very exciting and I resolved to give it a try at the first opportunity. That first opportunity came more quickly than I expected.

We both came, me several minutes behind Amber. Mine wasn't one of the great world-shattering orgasms, merely a quiet and mildly satisfying one. When I'd finished, Amber said: "Hair-dressing time, Hal. Come on through to the bathroom and we'll sort out that forest of yours."

With me sitting on the lavatory seat, Amber cleaned up my pussy then very carefully trimmed my mass of pubic hair to a stubble. With that done, she gently shaved me until I was as bare as she. Once finished, she rubbed soothing body lotion over the area and then said: "I don't know why you wanted to hide your pussy, Hal. She is so lovely." Dipping her head and spreading my lips, she took a long lick all the way from my perineum to clit. "Right, back to bed. I think full nakedness is called for now, don't you?"

In the bedroom, Amber, with back to me once more, shed her shirt and then unclasped her bra. I was now able to make out details of the tattoo: it was a tree, the bole running along her spine with the roots clawing at her buttocks and the foliage spread across her shoulders. Coiled about the tree was a multi-coloured serpent, some sort of fruit in its mouth. Very biblical. Amber faced me once more. Her boobs were firm and fairly large, not porn-star-surgically-enhanced-unbelievably-ridiculously-large but naturally so. Her puffy pink areolas were also large, certainly larger than any I had seen before, while her nipples were hard little stubs. She offered one to my mouth and I sucked avidly. As I did so, Amber unbuttoned my shirt and peeled it off.

"Lie back, Hal," she instructed. Dipping a finger into a wine-glass, she eased my outer labia apart and liberally coated the inside of my quim with the wine before licking me out. "That's a very good year," she grinned, "although I don't think your pussy needs any enhancement to taste good." Hooking my legs over her shoulders, Amber began lapping and nuzzling at kitty as she eased two fingers into me. "God, Hal, but you're so wet... and so hot..."

Amber continued to eat me, seeming to sense exactly the right moment to draw back so that I didn't come too soon. She quickly had me whimpering in a combination of frustration and anticipation. I felt her draw back the hood of my clit and the tip of her tongue flicking at the tiny nub. When her exploring fingers found my g-spot, I exploded, yelling out loud as great rolling waves of pleasure crashed over me.

Amber moved up to straddle my torso. Even though my breasts are no more than moderately sized, I've got quite long nipples and she lowered herself so that one of them was inside her slit. She rubbed herself against my nipple and her prominent clit continually brushed the upper slope of my breast. While doing this, she pulled and squeezed my other nipple. I reached up to play with her magnificent boobs. I could feel my breast getting more and more wet with Amber's juices as she moved faster and faster, her eyes tightly closed, her face contorted with pleasure. She screamed as she came and then collapsed on top of me, body heaving as she tried to catch her breath. When she had recovered a little, Amber licked all around the nipple and breast she had used to give herself an orgasm.

She rolled off me and grinned. "I love the taste of fresh clean come," she said, "I think this calls for some more wine, Hal, and then you can eat me out..."

I can't in honesty say that I was in love with Amber but I was certainly in lust and infatuated. Our liaison lasted for about six months until...

* * * * *

I had a text from Amber: Are you working late tonight?

I replied: No.

Amber: OK come round to my place. Front door will be unlocked. Come straight to the bedroom for big surprise. LOL.

It was about seven or so when I arrived. I could see Amber's car in the garage so pulled my car into her driveway. The front door was unlocked as promised and I made my way up to the bedroom as instructed. As I mounted the stairs, I could hear moans and whimpers and assumed that Amber was masturbating in anticipation of my arrival. She'd promised me a big surprise. Boy, did I get one, although perhaps shock is a better word.

"What the hell...?"

Amber was on the bed on all fours, head bent down between the spread legs of a supine woman who had startling red hair, by the looks of it a very bad dye job. Behind Amber, shagging her doggy-fashion with what looked like an enormous strap-on, was a stockily-built short-haired woman whose right arm was a sleeve of tattoos from shoulder to a little above the wrist. A brassy-looking blonde knelt behind her, head thrust forward, and it seemed that she was licking strap-on's anus. I couldn't be sure about Miss Dildo but Red and Blondie both looked like down-market hookers. Amber lifted her head and gave me a big smile. "There you are, sweetie, get your clothes off and join us."

I think my mouth fell open and I was unable to say anything for a few seconds, then: "No fucking way!" I turned and stamped off down the stairs. I heard Amber saying, "Oh hell, the stupid kid's going to throw a hissy-fit. Carry on without me for a moment while I go after her."

A naked Amber, large breasts bouncing, caught up with me near the front door. "Don't be silly, Hal, come back with me and have some fun. You'll like Leonie, she's absolutely brilliant with that king-sized dildo of hers. And unlike a bloke she can keep it up for hours. You'll come like a rocket. And if this is what's worrying you, we always practise safe sex, put a condom on the dildo."

I caught the 'always', sounded as if this was a regular game with Amber and her friends. "Safe sex? If you think I'm going to let that female gorilla at me—" I gestured towards the upper floor. "How could you, Amber?"

"What's wrong with it, Hal? I like a length of cock sometimes and I'm sure you will too."

"No I won't!" I practically shouted, "I've never had one of those things in me and I'm not starting now! If ever I want to try a dildo, it'll be with someone of my choosing, not yours."

"Okay, so you can lick Leonie out. If you don't like that idea, then you can fuck Lila or Tansy or both—they've got very tasty pussies."

I could feel the tears gathering. "Amber, I may be a stupid kid but I'm just not into this kind of thing. One girl at a time is plenty for me. I'm sorry, Amber, but I don't think we can carry on like this. I don't think I want to see you again."

Amber's voice suddenly became furious. "You don't walk out on me, you little bitch. I walk out on people, not the other way round. Walk out now and you'll regret it, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but you'll regret it."

"Goodbye, Amber."

"Wait, Hal..." Her manner changed abruptly, becoming conciliatory in tone. "I'm sorry, I suppose I can understand your not liking the idea of several partners. If you don't want to see me again, that's fine. Give me your phone, I'll delete my name and number. You'd be bound to mess it up if you try." Amber took my phone and pressed several buttons. "There! that's done. So long, Hal, it was nice while it lasted."

I moped around for a couple of days before telling Robbie I'd split with Amber.

"Good," he said, "I hate to say this about a woman but she's an absolute arsehole, always has been."

"Why didn't you say so before?"

"Hal, you were obviously stuck on her. If I'd bad-mouthed her to you, it would likely have hurt our friendship. You have to discover these things for yourself. It's all part of the great game called growing up."

When I told Grandma, she commented: "Good. Now you can hope to find someone really nice."

* * * * *

I didn't though, find someone nice that is. It's easier said than done. Oh, I had my fair share of short-lived affairs and one-night stands but I never met anyone I wanted to make it permanent with. To be honest, I just didn't trust anybody enough to make a go of it. So I soldiered on. One thing I did do because Amber wasn't in control, a little act of independence probably, was to let my pubic hair grow back although now I kept it neatly trimmed and my vulva bare.

One day, a couple of years after my disastrous affair with Amber, Robbie came to see me in the shop. He was carrying the large portfolio which usually held his designs for fine porcelain items. Placing the portfolio on the counter, he said: "Hal, I'm thinking about redesigning the shop frontage. It's a bit dull the way it is."

I was puzzled. Robbie had always seemed satisfied with it before. "What did you have in mind, Robbie?"

He opened the portfolio to extract a large sheet of cartridge paper. "I've sketched my ideas here. I think it looks much better—see what you think."

It was a very decent drawing of the shop's front but at first I couldn't see any major changes. Then I noticed the lintel...

Hurst & Mercer - Fine Ceramics

"Robbie..."

"I'm offering you a partnership, Hal," he grinned, "I know I'm a great craftsman but I'm no innovator—you are, you have ideas. I was in something of a rut when I hired you and it's largely thanks to you that the business has moved on so well. What do you say?"

"Robbie... I'm very flattered but I can't afford to buy into the business."

"I've thought about that," he said, "There's a charitable trust set up in some multi-millionaire's will giving young business people one-off tax-free grants to help them on their way. I'm pretty sure you'll qualify for a grant. The grants are generous but even so there may be a shortfall. I've had a word with a bank manager friend of mine and if necessary she's willing to arrange a loan at very favourable rates. Turn me down, Hal, and... and... I'll go and ask Amber Lytton to marry me!"

I threw myself into Robbie's arms and planted a big wet kiss on each cheek. "Thank you Robbie! Of course I accept. I wouldn't wish the alternative on anybody."

2012/2013 - Berry

I was near the doorway of Hurst & Mercer's ceramics shop when a girl stepped out and sashayed her way along to the nearby bakery-cum-café. I caught my breath—it was as if life had suddenly kicked me in the midriff. She was tall, well, tallish—after all, five-two looks tall to me—with an attractive face lightly dusted with freckles, and chestnut-brown hair cut in a boyish style with a distinctive quiff. She wore a plaid shirt with clay-spattered dungarees and looked as good in them as any top model sporting the latest Balenciaga creation. I waited. I had to get a second look if possible.

She came back a few minutes later carrying a coffee carton and a paper bag showing grease-stains from which I guessed she'd bought either a couple of their delicious jam doughnuts or one of their sublime curry pasties. I stood there trying to look nonchalant and taking care not to stare at her. First impressions were right, though, she was easy on the eye. She turned into the ceramics shop again and I don't think she noticed me.

Now this is where things get weird. Yes, I found the girl attractive and could have looked at her all day. But that wasn't what had affected me so much. I knew this girl. Some instinct told me that I knew her very well, that there was a strong connection between us, and yet I had never seen her before in my life. Never. Our town is a small one yet still large enough for you to go through life without ever seeing many of the other residents. There was a possible explanation...

I wanted to find out more before approaching her directly and I got the slightly daft notion—all right, the totally insane notion—of following her about while maintaining a discreet distance between us. I know this makes me sound like a stalker but I'm not—I only wanted to understand why I'd felt this strange attraction between us. I had a few days off work so could afford the time. Didn't do me a lot of good. She went from the Hurst & Mercer shop to the Hurst & Mercer studio and workshop and back again. She went here, there and everywhere, sometimes apparently on business, other times on private matters. After four days I was none the wiser about her. Then she walked a mile or so to end up at a small house in the suburbs. Odd, but she chose a really twisty, turny route although it would have been much quicker for her to go directly by the main road.

Hal

There was no doubt about it now, the girl was following me. Why, God alone knows, but I was getting a bit antsy over it. I hadn't got a good look at her but my impression was of someone not much older than a young schoolgirl. Help! I was being stalked by an underage serial killer. Surely they shouldn't be allowed their serial killer's licence until they were at least eighteen. But as I said, there couldn't be any doubt. It was four days now and over that time she had maintained a certain distance between us, I stopped and she stopped, I took evasive routes, she was there. I turned into odd back-streets and she turned into odd back-streets. I tried to make the odd back-streets not too odd for fear that she might rush me and hack me to pieces with a concealed chain-saw. If I heard just one little buzzing noise, then I'd leg it as fast as I could, always assuming I could outrun a teenage serial killer.

I let myself into Grandma's house and went to the sitting room to look out of the window. The net curtains meant that I was able to see out without passers-by being able to see in. Yes, she was there, staring up at the house.

"What are you looking at, Hal?" I jumped, nearly peeing myself—I hadn't heard Grandma come into the room, the curse of fitted carpets and soft carpet slippers. Shows how jumpy I was. I gestured her to my side.

"I think I've got a stalker, Grandma. See that girl there? No, don't pull the curtain back, I don't want her to know we can see her."

"What about her?"

"She's been following me," I told Grandma, "several days now."

"Anyone you know?" I shook my head. "Why, she looks very young," Grandma continued, "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, it's been at least four days now, that's when I first spotted her. Could be much longer for all I know. Everywhere I go, she's close behind."

"That is odd," Grandma commented, "I remember something in a James Bond book, years ago, words to the effect of 'once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, three times is enemy action'. Looks like enemy action. Tell you what, Hal, why don't you follow her when she goes, see if you can figure out what she's up to?"

"Yes, but she obviously knows me by sight, she'd soon spot me."

"I can fix that for you—a disguise." Grandma bustled from the room to return about ten minutes later with an armful of what looked like old clothing. First she held up a coat, probably the most vile-looking coat I had ever seen. "This was my mother's, your great-grandmother, Hal. She bought it in the 1940s. I'm afraid wartime played havoc with fashions and quality but it's ideal for your purposes. She was much heavier than you so it should be nice and roomy." Then Grandma showed me an equally disgusting pair of lace-up shoes.

"That outfit's foul," I complained, "And if I wore them, I'd still look like me." I ran a hand through my short hair. "Only more stupid," I added as an afterthought.

"Ah, I've thought of that. There was a bit of a fashion for wigs in the late Seventies and I made the mistake of impulse-buying this—your grandfather didn't stop laughing for a week." She produced a hideous wig, a kind of muddy-yellow coloured bob which couldn't, by any standards, be mistaken for real hair. To go with the wig was a huge pair of sun-glasses with swept-up frames and to finish the ensemble a stick of garish red lipstick and a pot of liver-coloured rouge. "God knows how old these are, I found them stuffed at the back of a drawer. Right, let's get to work. As soon as you're ready, you can go out the back way, down the path to the next street, then wait for the girl to move off. You follow her. Simple."