(This is some of the back story to "Amber Lets Go." However it stands on its own and is a full story in its own right.)
Amber stretched a long piece of packing tape across the top of the box, it contained her favorite books and all her DVD's; the last of her packing was finally done. She stood and stretched her petite 5 foot frame. At 110 pounds she filled her clothes out nicely, bordering on the cusp of slim to curvy. Her chest was a modest B cup, but her hips flared out from a small waist and flat stomach, leading down to strong toned thighs supporting a backside that could only be described as a "bubble-butt." She pulled her long dark hair from its pony-tail and gently massaged her scalp and temples as her mind became inundated with painful thoughts and emotions. With her large dark eyes closed and the stereo belting out mournful music she didn't notice the car pull up to the driveway.
"Do you need any help loading that into your truck? Obviously you've stuffed anything you could fit into it, and I know for a fact you're not strong enough to take care of it on your own."
Her eyes flew open at the request and her heart hammered in her chest. She turned and looked at the source of the voice and inside she involuntarily melted. He looked at her with the clearest steel-blue eyes she had ever seen. "The color of rain clouds," she thought. The straight, black eyelashes surrounding them made their affect even more penetrating. Inwardly she groaned in pain, outwardly she did her best to remain calm and collected.
"Ummm... Sure... but I think I could handle it, I've got all the rest so far."
"Heh... ya right, don't worry about it... I wouldn't want you to have to lift a finger now that I'm around to do the work."
She watched as he bent to lift the box filled with her books, the same ones he used to make fun of her for reading. "Well I won't have to deal with that anymore I guess," she thought to herself as he carried it out to her waiting vehicle, making room for it among the other boxes already loaded and ready to go.
"I always told you you have too much crap," he said as he walked back in the house.
This was the man she had chose to spend two years of her life with, the man she had deemed worthy enough to give her whole heart to. He stood there in his polo shirt and jeans, sunglasses in hand and ball cap perched on his head. He wasn't a large man, only standing 5'8" with an almost delicate bone structure. She found her eyes wandering to his forearms, one of her favorite parts, the hair a soft dusting leading to his wrists, his wrists leading to his hands; he had long, trim fingers, "piano playin' fingers" she liked to call them, always clean, always well manicured. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and run her face and lips across those hands; the back, the palm, kiss the inside of his wrists. She felt a yearning stir in her belly and abruptly snapped her eyes away from him. Too late.
As she brushed by him he grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks.
"I do love you... you know that, right?"
His eyes burned into hers, his hand so warm where he gripped her; her knees became weak; she couldn't look away if she tried, but she couldn't answer him either. "I don't know that... I don't... you never showed me..." Her thoughts blazed through her head. He leaned his head down, his cheek almost touching hers, he breathed into her ear...
"I can show you..."
Her mind screamed a mix of warnings and consummate acquiescence. She felt her defenses fade, she couldn't stop her body from melting against his, and as his lips closed over hers, she decided she didn't want to.
He turned her body towards his, pressing her full length against him, one hand clasping the back of her head, the other flattened on the small of her back. As her mouth opened under his he drove his tongue into its warmth, grasping her hair with more urgency, gripping her ass over her jeans. A small sigh escaped her and she wound her arms around his waist, pushing her pelvis against his thighs. She couldn't control herself, she knew he had this affect on her, she knew she shouldn't have been there packing when he got off work, she knew this would happen if she saw him, and she knew she wanted it.
"Get in the bedroom. I'll show you I love you. I'll show you when my dick slides into that tight pussy and you remember that your body was made to fit mine... nobody can make you feel the way I do, and you'll have no doubts about that before I'm through with you."
He turned her around in his arms, holding her by the hips, keeping her tight up against him; she rose to her tip toes, pressing her ass to his groin, feeling the rigid fire he had waiting for her there. He grabbed her tits, squeezing them almost harshly, before wrenching her shirt and bra up to her collar bone and exposing their flesh to the air. He immediately pinched and pulled her nipples to erection then ran his palms in feather light circles across their peaks. His breath was hot against her neck, his lips and tongue leaving wet trails from her ear down her jaw bone.
"Such nice little tits," he whispered in her ear, "I always loved your tits, after the first night I fucked you I jacked off thinking about rubbing my cock all over them."
She closed her eyes as her pussy spasmed in response to his words. Instantly she felt her wetness soak the crotch of her panties and she reached around behind her to press him more firmly against her. He began walking her to the bedroom, once again gripping her hips in an iron-like vise.
Once there he tore her shirt and bra from her body and bent to take a nipple into his mouth. He sucked, almost too hard, and the pleasurable pain rippled through her belly, pulsing and engorging her clit. Her head lolled back and she began working on the button of her jeans, wanting to get any article of clothing between them out of the way. He stood and pulled his shirt over his head, seeing her jeans undone he jerked them down her legs, then removed his in one swift movement. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and pushed them to the ground; she felt the crotch linger against her sex for a moment, the moisture binding the fabric to her skin. Her pussy was shaved bald and her fleshy lips were all but dripping with arousal.
"Turn around.... turn around and get on the bed."
She hesitated, confused for a moment. "Turn around? He hardly ever wants to see me from behind." She had time for this one thought before he physically turned her himself and pushed her to the bed. She climbed on the side, her knees perched dangerously close to the edge, her elbows locked and hands planted for support.
"No, lean down. Lean down and spread your legs."
She quivered with excitement, and obeyed. Her chest and face rested on the bed and she slowly let her knees slide farther open. She arched her back; she was now successfully in the most prone position she could imagine; her ass high in the air, her legs spread to the point of shaking from instability, her pussy gaping.
