Amber Ch. 09

On returning home from the restaurant, I unlocked the door and let Amber enter the house first, as I usually did. But to my surprise, however, she did not immediately turn on the light. Instead, she reached for my hand and pulled me inside until I was pressed against her. The only light came from a streetlamp's glow permeating the closed curtains and a pair of night lights used to help us navigate in the darkness.

I closed and locked the door behind me, and she tipped her head up to me. Our kiss was wonderful, full of love and respect and trust.

It seemed like a nice end to a nice outing.

Stepping back and still holding my hand, Amber led me through the mostly-dark living room to the sofa and had me take off my jacket and sit. I was genuinely curious as to what she was planning, especially when she spread my knees and stepped between my thighs. Slowly, in the glow of the streetlamp's curtains-diffused light, she shed her jacket and set it atop mine on the sofa.

When Amber slowly descended to her knees, her hands trailing down my torso and onto my thighs, I knew exactly what she was planning to do, and I felt a stirring within me which soon became visible through my slacks.

Through my clothing, she caressed me, enticing my arousal to grow and solidify. She looked up at me with large expressive eyes, and I could not stop myself from reaching out to her and caressing her cheek. She turned her face into my palm as she continued to gently fondle the expanding bulge, and I sighed happily, enjoying her touch, enjoying touching her. Amber's free hand found my free hand, linking us symbolically in the same way in which our hearts were already linked: as one.

She continued to stroke my hidden erection long after it had reached its full size. Still holding my other hand, she planted soft kisses all around my groin. Our hands would occasionally squeeze, a reinforcement of our mutual affection and desire.

Even though it was evident what she planned to do, I was still a little surprised when Amber finally took the zipper of my slacks between her fingers and pulled it down. I was mesmerized as I watched her, thrilled that she was taking this step, that she trusted me enough to allow herself to do this to me, for me. My hands brushed her hair back out of the way, and she looked up at me with a small smile of gratitude and eyes which made it clear that this was to be an event dedicated to my pleasure.

She fumbled a bit, but eventually she brought my solid manhood into full view. My erection stood long and proud through the open fly, saluting this amazing young woman. A few seconds later, she had extracted my testicles as well, and they were already heavy with my love.

For a long time, Amber simply stroked me and fondled me. Her touches were delicate as she learned this part of my body. Her facial expression was one of complete fascination and awe. As a drop of clear desire would appear at my tip, she would gather it with a fingertip or a fingernail and send a sweet shudder through my entire being.

I closed my eyes, my head resting on the back of the sofa. I savored the experience, even as I felt the need to possess her.

But now was definitely not the time for such an act.

When at last Amber took me into her mouth for the very first time, I groaned aloud. Her mouth was so warm and her tongue so soft. I could feel practically every ridge along the roof of the cavity as she slowly took more and more of me into her body.

She could not quite take my fully length into her mouth, nor did I expect her to be able to accommodate me entirely. When she could handle no more of me, she stopped her slow descent, breathing through her nose as her tongue brushed me with the delicate care of a world-renowned artist.

I felt as if I would melt into the sofa.

Amber took my hands in hers and her head began to bob up and down around my solid shaft. I groaned again, quieter this time, my thighs closing in around her in perhaps a subconscious command to her that she was not to go anywhere anytime soon.

For a long time, she worked upon me, gradually increasing my pleasure, exponentially increasing my desire. With her mouth and her hands, she tantalized me, urged me. Her tongue was wonderful, at once feeling like a warm wet tongue and like a skittish butterfly.

I encouraged her. I throbbed in her mouth and in her hands. I stroked her face and her hair. I bombarded her ears with my sighs and my groans. I gazed upon her with need.

"I'm close..." I warned, not knowing how she would react if I were to unleash my love into her mouth.

She pulled her head away, and I was extracted from her mouth with a satisfying soft pop. Amber was breathing a little quickly, but she grasped my hardened length and stroked firmly and forcefully, looking directly in my eyes, and I could see exactly what she wanted.

A few moments later, I gave it to her.

Even in the semi-darkness, her love-coated face was unmistakable. She beamed proudly, her tongue searching out a line of white hanging off her lower lip.

Her face contorted. Clearly, she did not care for the taste, but I could not stop myself from laughing quietly, and she smiled as well, her eyes full of her own love for me.

"I feel like a slut," she commented softly, her statement contrasting with the smile in her eyes.

"If you are a slut," I replied, stroking her head, "then at least you're my slut."

Eventually, she returned me to the proper state of dress, then slowly stood, her knees apparently aching a bit from having knelt for so long. She stretched, still wearing my love upon her face, and that was when I noticed that my love also dotted the front of her black dress.

"Perhaps you should go clean up a bit," I suggested, standing before her. "You're a beautiful mess!"

"Okay," she agreed. Her hand lingered for a moment over my heart, then she disappeared deep into the shadows as she headed for her bedroom to prepare for a shower.

I brushed my hand over the crotch of my slacks, and it was indeed a different sensation, a different touch. Touching oneself can be nice, but being touched by a lover is like transforming a puddle into an ocean: in terms of scale, there is simply no viable comparison.