Sugar

1. All characters are 18+

2. No characters resemble real people

3. Enjoy the fiction

----

CHAPTER 3

This last part is actually Amber's fault.

My 21-year-old renter was a sophomore history major at the university near my house. What had started out as a normal rental arrangement turned into sexual favors for housing and a car.

Amber had signed up for her spring semester classes shortly after we had intercourse for the first time, on Thanksgiving night. Then she had her final exams in December. She spent hours each day studying in the den. She got straight A's, of course. For someone who had been dealt a rough life as a child, she was intelligent and could do most anything she strived to do.

After exams were over, and the campus cleared out, we decorated the house for Christmas. Amber had stories to share about good Christmases when she was young, when her grandmother was still alive. Her mother hadn't been the best role model, she'd never known her father, but Amber's grandma was a good influence on her and her brother Artie.

"Nana Bea used to bake the best cookies you've ever had," Amber explained. "Somewhere in my stuff, I have the recipes. Now that school is done, I'll have to make you some."

I also told stories about Christmases past, with my son David, and yes, my ex-wife Kathy. I could never pinpoint when Kathy had drifted from me, but I could still remember times when we were happy, before she grew bored of me. Especially Christmas, when we were both happy to watch David open presents and play.

----

As the holiday approached, I knew I'd want to buy presents for Amber. The question was how much to buy, or how much to spend. We were trying to avoid the term 'sugar daddy' in our arrangement, so we stuck with 'landlord.' So what was appropriate.

I got a hint as the snow fell. Amber wasn't a fan of winter. She preferred the warmth inside the house. I also noticed her wearing more layers of clothes, and realized she didn't have a lot of warmer weather outfits. To top that off, she didn't appear to have boots, as I saw her trudging through snow in her sneakers.

So I gave her one present early. I handed her an envelope of cash on a Saturday morning, and just told her, "Go buy winter clothes."

"I have enough clothes," she said.

"No you don't. You're freezing. And get boots too."

She looked at the cash in the envelope. "This is too much."

"Then get something else. Merry early Christmas," I told her, and kissed her cheek.

She came back that afternoon with bags of clothes and a smile, which made me happy. When Amber was happy, so was I. "Did you buy enough?" I asked.

"Yes, you were more than generous, thank you. I even got something for you."

"You did?" I asked curiously. "What?"

"You have to wait for Christmas."

----

We celebrated Christmas Day with David. Fallon was once again home with her parents, but she had visited before she left campus. David planned on meeting her parents a few days after the holiday. He was pleased to report that Fallon had been promoted from 'girl I'm talking to' to 'girlfriend'. I was glad, as I approved of Fallon.

David was a little awkward around Amber during Christmas. It was his first visit to my house since he'd found out about us. He was still getting used to having this young woman around, who his father was having sex with. Still, he was civil and polite. He'd had no idea what gift to get her, gotten her a gift card for a beauty products store, which she said she loved.

Amber treated him like a sort of surrogate brother. She'd bought him an 'Alumni' t-shirt from the university store. He smiled happily. Amber had also made her grandmother's cookies, and gave him a container to take home with him.

Overall, it was a great Christmas day. It was obviously better than the previous year, when my son still wasn't talking to me. I had spent that day last year alone. I still made a large dinner, but I had no one to share it with. This year, I had two smiling faces here, and I was grateful.

----

Amber and I had given each other a few small gifts in front of David, but after he left, I had one more to give. "This is for you," I said, handing her an envelope.

She looked at me oddly, then opened it. "It's a gift certificate... for a beach resort?"

I nodded. "During spring break. You'll have earned a break from school. You can take a guest of your choice. Take Fallon if you want."

She laughed. "I'm not taking Fallon! There's only one person I want to go with," she said. Then dove into my lap and kissed me, hard. I thought she was going to suck the oxygen from my lungs.

When we stopped kissing, I asked, "It's me, right?"

That made her laugh again. "Yes, of course it's you. Now," she said, standing up, "Wait five minutes, then come upstairs. I have another present for you too."

I did as she asked, then went upstairs. My bedroom door was closed, so I knocked on it. "Amber?"

"Come in."

I opened the door to find my bed adorned in new, fancy sheets. And Amber laid on top, wearing a small red ribbon tied around her neck. She also wore what looked like new lingerie: a red lacy camisole and a pair of matching panties. Candles were lit around the room, enhancing the ambiance.

"Wow," I said. "You've really outdone yourself."

"Come here," she beckoned, and I walked to the bed. She helped me remove my clothes, and she laid me down on my back. Then she grabbed a small bottle from the nightstand.

"What's that?"

"Just a little oil. Don't worry, we won't make a mess." She only dripped a little bit on my chest and pubic area, and rubbed it around on me, one hand on my chest, the other wrapped around my hard cock. I had to admit, it was quite pleasurable. Her handwork on me was already fun, but the oil made things more slick, and more interesting.

"That feels good," I told her.

"Good," she cooed. "It's edible too." She demonstrated by licking my chest, just to the side of my nipple. "Coconut flavor." She kissed all over my chest, lightly nibbling at the flavored oil, all the while slowly working my dick with her hand. Then she took that into her mouth too, and it was driving me wild.

"I'm not going to last long like that, sweetie," I warned her.

"Good," she said briefly, then took me all the way back into her mouth, sucking ferociously, on a mission to get me to cum.

"Amber, I... I'm...good..." I sputtered, unable to put together a sentence, and spilled into her mouth. True to form, she didn't stop until she'd swallowed it all down.

"Don't worry," she then told me, "we're not done." She stripped off the red lacy camisole and bared her perfect chest to me. Then she dribbled a little bit of the coconut oil on each breast. "Your turn," she said, sitting on me and lowering herself to my head.

I'm unashamed to say I feasted on her breasts like a hungry infant. I wished I could have two mouths to suck both nipples simultaneously. The oil made her melons taste like coconut cocktails. And based on the noises she made, Amber liked the fervor with which I worked. I could feel her grinding her hot box against my pubic bone.

Finally, when I was good and hard again, she pulled her thong to the side and slid downwards. The remnants of oil still on my dick, combined with her natural slickness, made the entry so fast. She was able to ride me with speed, in and out, up and down, almost like a blur. "Unh! Unh!" she cried out. "Unh! So! Damn! Good!" She grunted with each pump, until finally she came hard. That set me off too, and I unloaded into her spasming channel.

After a minute to catch her breath, Amber led me into the shower, and we washed off the oil. It was fun wearing it, but she told me she didn't like waking up with it still on her body. I got ample chances to help wash her amazing young body.

Then we dried off and went back to the bed. Some of the candles had sputtered out on their own by this point, the rest we made sure to extinguish. She curled up next to me, both of us still naked. "Merry Christmas, Sam," she whispered to me, drifting off to sleep.

"Merry Christmas, sweetie."

----

When classes resumed in January, Amber started complaining to me about one class in particular. "This professor is extremely picky," she told me. "She demands a paper a week, and I swear she argues against whatever I write."

"What's the class?"

"Modern American Literature."

"Can you drop it? Or take it with a different professor?"

"No," she sighed. "It's part of my major. I need it to graduate. If I drop it, I'd have to take it next semester, which is already loaded with junior level classes. And the professor who usually teaches it is on sabbatical, so they brought in a guest to fill in."

"Hmm. And I'm guessing you don't want to give up on it anyway."

She slammed her fist on the table. "Right. I don't give up just because it's hard. I just need to work harder in this class."

Amber never wanted to look weak by backing down from a challenge. But by the end of January, Amber was stressed out. Her grades in that class weren't improving. She might pass, but it would wreck her otherwise stellar GPA.

Our spring break trip was coming up in late February. I was always puzzled by the timing, as it wasn't spring yet, but it gave us more of a reason to go away to somewhere warm. I was cooking dinner, and thinking of planning something for Valentine's day, when Amber came home angry. "Damn that woman," she yelled. "She's assigning more work during spring break. Who the fuck does that?"

I shrugged. "Someone who doesn't have much of a life?" I guessed.

She sat at the table and put her head down over her arms. Her muffled voice said, "I can't believe that bitch Trevino. And she gave me another C."

My ears burned. "What did you say?"

"I got another C."

"No, before that. Your professor's name?"

"Trevino?"

"Kathleen Trevino?"

"I guess so."

"That's my ex wife," I said. "Why the hell is she back in town?"

"Wait. Your ex Kathy is Professor Trevino?" Amber said. "Shit. What a damn bitch. What did you ever see in her?"

I shook my head. "I never took a class with her."

Just then, my doorbell rang, and things went from bad to worse. Since I was cooking, Amber went to get it, and I heard a familiar voice say, "What are you doing here?"

Amber didn't answer. She just came back into the kitchen, and told me, "I can't. I don't have the patience." She took my spatula and replaced me at the stove.

I went into the living room, where Kathy stood in the doorway. "Kathy."

"Why is my student in our house, Sam?" she asked suspiciously. She dressed as she usually did for class: colorful blouse, brown skirt that went past her knees, nice but practical shoes. Her once-blonde hair had been graying when she left; now it was more gray than blonde, but still tied in her trademark 'professor bun'.

"It's not our house, it's my house. Amber is living here. She's renting David's old room," I said. She gave me a weird look, but before she could ask about that, I pushed on, "The real question is, what are you doing here?"

"I came back to teach."

"So I've heard. I meant, what are you doing in my house?"

Kathy looked around. "You haven't changed much." Then back to me. "I was wondering if you had plans for Valentine's day."

I was shocked. "What happened to your lover? Jason?"

"James. He and I are no longer seeing each other."

"Uh-huh. So you thought to come back here?" I asked.

She nodded. "I know it might take time, but I thought maybe we could discuss reconciling. I thought maybe Valentine's day could be a first step."

"You're assuming a lot there, Kathy," I said, perhaps more spitefully than was necessary. "Why would I want to reconcile with a woman who left me when she got bored with me? Why would I want to get back together with someone who ended over twenty years of marriage on a whim?"

Kathy looked a little stunned. I think she thought she could just show up and I'd take her back. "Maybe I am assuming," she said, after a moment. "But I'm asking. Would you be willing to have dinner with me this Valentine's day?"

"No."

"Have you... is there someone else?"

Yes, but I wasn't going to tell her that. "No."

"I see. Well, then, I'll leave you alone. Goodnight."

She left, and only then did Amber peek her head from the kitchen. "Is she gone?"

"Yes, she's gone." I followed her back into the kitchen and we finished dinner together.

"That's not going to be a regular occurrence, is it?" Amber asked as we ate.

"My ex-wife coming over? I hope not."

"I heard what she said. She wants you back," Amber said. "I bet her other guy ended it with her, and now she's looking for a second chance."

"I'm not sure about that. But," I told her, "I'm not interested. I'm done with her."

She smiled. "Yeah, I heard that part too."

"Good. I meant it."

----

As Amber guessed, this wasn't over. She told me that in the very next class, Professor Trevino had looked directly at Amber several times. Amber said the look made her nervous. "It's like she really had it out for me," she said. I had frowned throughout Amber's retelling. I guess it didn't surprise me that Kathy was a picky teacher, a hard grader. But now I had to hope Kathy wasn't going to make things personal.

I tried not to worry too much, as Valentine's Day was around the corner. I had to make plans. I bought flowers and chocolates, as would be expected. But I also bought something for me to wear - something I'd never wear if I didn't have Amber.

On the afternoon of Valentine's day, I decorated the living room with flowers, in anticipation of Amber coming home from classes to see it. I had also been preparing to make spaghetti with a meat sauce from scratch - one of her favorite meals.

When I heard the front door open, I assumed it was Amber, so I went to see. Only it was Kathy coming into the room.

"It's kind of illegal to enter someone's house without permission, Kathy." I said coldly.

"I thought you said you didn't have plans today," she said, looking at the flowers.

"I said I didn't have plans with you."

"It's the girl, isn't it? Miss Johnson? You think I'm blind, Sam?"

I wasn't going to answer that. "Neither my personal life, nor hers, are any of your business. Why are you here?"

"I was looking for some papers. I think I might have left them in the study. Then I saw the flowers through the window and was half-convinced you had changed your mind. But," she said, looking condescending, "it seems you're chasing some younger tail instead."

That just made me mad. "Get out of my house," I said, mostly calmly.

She turned to leave, but she was still talking. "I feel bad for her, you know? Some old man drooling over her. It's pathetic."

"Get Out!" I shouted. She did.

I debated whether I should tell Amber that Kathy had visited again. I decided it was no good to hide it from her. When she came home, she was elated to see the flowers. Then I told her about Kathy, and the mood soured.

I brought her mood back up with dinner. And chocolate. Never underestimate chocolate. We sat on the couch and fed each other. Her favorites were the caramels. Mine were the fruity creams.

Then we went to the bedroom and I showed her my last surprise. Taking off my pants, I revealed a new pair of red silk boxers. I know, boxers aren't the sexiest underwear, but they were pretty wild compared to all my other pairs. Amber hooted at me as I stripped my pants off slowly for her. "Shake it baby!" So I did, a little. As much as a middle-age white guy can.

She was also wearing exciting underwear. A lacy purple thong with matching bra. I told her, "You look amazing in that. I almost don't want to take it off you."

She shrugged, and said, "Well maybe you don't have too." Then she pointed out that the thong was crotchless. She was already visibly wet.

"Wow," was all I could say to that. Foreplay was not necessary at that point, though I did try. I did get her bra off and tease her nipples a bit before she pounced on me and demanded my cock. She shimmied the red boxers from my legs and impaled herself on me. We locked eyes then, and I matched her rhythm as she rode me. In our eye contact, and our bodily contact, there was a power. A power I'd not felt before, not even with Kathy. The connection was strong, and as I exploded into her warmth, I knew that Amber felt it too.

----

"What did you say she wanted?" David asked on our next phone call. He hadn't been in touch with his mother, so the fact that she was back in town was news to him.

"This last time, she said she wanted to look for some papers," I told him. "I thought she cleared all her stuff from the study."

"Didn't she leave that desk?"

I thought and realized that she had, in fact, left a desk. I had moved it to the basement, when I turned the study into my den. There might have been a few things inside. I told David that.

"You should take a look. See if there's anything valuable inside."

So I did, the next afternoon. Amber and Fallon came to the basement with me. Fallon joked it was like a treasure hunt, and I was like Indiana Jones. Then Amber spotted a spider and both girls recoiled to the stairs.

I opened the desk drawers. Nothing in the top drawers, but in the bottom drawer was a folder that was hanging in the very back. I could see how it might have been missed during a hurried exit. I grabbed it, stepped on the spider (at the request of the girls), and we headed back upstairs.

It was valuable, all right. It was a collection of all of Kathy's midterm and final exams, dating back for at least ten years. Now, it obviously wasn't the exams for this year. But it did provide the best opportunity for Amber to study from. Fallon and I helped her find patterns in the many years of tests, so Amber would know what to expect.

Needless to say, Amber aced her midterm exam, and we happily headed off to our beach resort for spring break. I'd tell you more details about that, but that's another story for another time. I'm sure you can use your imagination.

----

When we got back, Kathy did try to call me. There was a message on my home phone. "Where are you, Sam? You haven't been home in days. I know you found my old tests. There's no other way that little tart could have done as well as she did. I'll be watching you both."

Amber was pissed, but I erased the message. "She has no proof. We'll burn her papers if necessary."

Amber wasn't satisfied. "She's just going to be a bitch to me for the rest of the semester."

"That may be true, but she has to grade you fairly. And if she doesn't, we'll figure out what to do from there."

Amber was right, however. In the very next class, they had been discussing Lolita, a book where I was only vaguely aware of the plot. Though the author was Russian, he wrote it in America, and it was basically about a man in love with a teenage girl. Amber claimed that Kathy had looked directly at her several times when discussing the girl.

"But she doesn't understand," Amber told me. "You're not a predator. You're kind and selfless. You've treated me with nothing but respect, and everything we've done together, I've wanted to do." She looked at me and continued, "I've told you a bit about Mack. It was different with him. He basically wanted me to be part housemaid, part slut. He made me do things I didn't want to do."

"I'm sorry," I said. "He didn't... hit you, did he?"

"Once. Only once," she said. "He was drunk, and had a friend over. He wanted me to... service his friend." I nodded, understanding the implication, and she went on. "Mack wanted to watch. I said no. He hit me, and called me useless. I thought they were going to force me," she said, starting to tear up, "I was so scared. But thankfully he told me to get him another beer instead. I left the next day. That's what made me call Artie and get the hell away from Mack."