In Stark Contrast Ch 01

Amber Graves always had a complex about standing out in a crowd. The fact that she was six foot-two and had dark red hair did make blending in quite difficult.

Having sprouted to 5 foot 11 by her Sophomore year of high school, one would have thought over the past 15 years she might have grown use to the inevitable stares, but the comfort level with her gangliness never came for the now 32 year old, recently divorced Mother of two.

With a Mom who was 5'10" and a Father nearly 6'7", the genetic dye was cast from her moment of conception, sadly the unusual height was never coupled with a lick of athletic ability, so playing basketball or volleyball wasn't an option. Amber thought for awhile about possibly becoming a meteorologist, just so she could say she was getting paid when anyone asked her 'How's the weather up there?", but instead she went to college, took accounting and met her Husband before inevitably starting a family and becoming a stay at home Mom.

Needless to say, finding available and interested men to initiate relationships with was always a traumatic process for Amber. From those horrible high school dances where all the boys would cower away from dancing with a girl who towered over them, to college where the athletes, the main demographic of guys who could possibly handle a girl of her size, all seemed to be more attracted to the perky, bundle of energy 'cheerleader' type. While Amber was reasonably attractive and relatively fit, most guys were simply too intimidated by her height.

That's why she let out such a sigh of relief when she met the man who'd be her future Husband. He was very secure in himself, was a couple of inches taller than Amber and for the first couple of years of marriage, everything was bliss. Like most couples however, the good times didn't last. Eventually, the age old combination of ambivalence, disenchantment, lack of communication and finally infidelity led to the dissolution of their 10 year union.

While she couldn't bring herself to stay married to a man that had so broken her trust, Amber was also now faced with the nightmare of the dating world once again. Still burdened with all the bottled up insecurities of her youth, Amber now had the baggage of two children and the jadedness that could only come with a failed marriage to bring to the table.

Despite a reasonable child support amount and a touch of alimony in her divorce settlement, Amber was still forced to put her accounting degree to work once she was on her own. Armed thankfully with a trustworthy babysitter for her two young kids, the 32 year old woman relished the opportunity to make her mark in the workplace after so many years of staying at home and trying in vain to be the perfect wife.

She'd been hired at an entry level position at one of Portland's bigger financial firms, and luckily Amber found herself in an office with a handful of people she quickly developed a friendship with. Worried initially she'd be stuck with a gaggle of married cohorts, Amber dreaded the nauseating thought of having to listen to their stories of marital bliss after everything she'd been through. Thankfully there were a handful of singles and divorcees who were wallowing in the same dating doldrums as she. There was even another girl in the office who played college basketball a few years earlier, who happened to be a shade under six foot and that helped Amber immensely not to feel like a sore thumb when the group stood around the coffee maker.

The last thing on Amber's mind at that point was getting into another serious relationship. While some companionship would be nice, there were wounds still fresh from her divorce, and selfishly the last thing she wanted to do was get re-married for awhile and ruin the alimony payments she was getting. Not to mention, there simply wasn't enough time in the day for a new relationship. Between the energy she was expending immersing herself in her new job along with trying to be the best mother she could be, there wasn't nearly enough free time to pursue any fun for herself.

That commitment to taking the high road of chastity to a hit however when Amber found out her Ex-Husband was once again engaged. Feeling a tangible stew of jealousy boiling in her belly the instant she heard the news, an innate desire to find a mate of her own suddenly welled inside her, and Amber soon found herself joining her co-workers when they'd go out for drinks after work.

Never the bar-hopping, night club type, Amber immediately felt out of her element by the sleaze factor of some of the places they frequented. Thankfully, after a few drinks she was usually able to relax enough to have a good time, but she could never see herself hooking up long term with anyone she met on those nights out.

Not that she had that many opportunities. Just like the same dilemma she faced when she when out back in college, plenty of men around the bar would make eye contact with her, but precious few had the moxy to come over and start a conversation. And the few that did all seemed to be so full of liquod courage that she worried they would barf all over her shoes if things progressed past a hug.

There were certainly a fair share of men Amber would see each time she went out that caught her eye, but she was just too shy to make the first move and too cautious with her flirtation to possibly lure them over.

Some of her female co-workers however didn't seem to have the same problem. Amber remembered, with a mixture of horror and amusement, how one of her co-workers named Lucy disappeared one night a few minutes after meeting a good looking guy on the dance floor. It wasn't until Amber saw the coy look in the young girl's eyes, not to mention the playful way Lucy dabbed at her lips with the back of her hand to know where she'd been before she re-appeared. While hearing Lucy relay the story of what she'd done with the handsome stranger did captivate Amber's attention, she knew full well she could never do anything that bold with someone she didn't even know.

Despite her indifference in finding Mr. Right, or even Mr. Right Now, on those nights out with friends, Amber still found herself keeping a few extra make-up compacts around just to touch-up her 'plain jane' features when they hit the town.

After a few months of absorbing the nightlife downtown, some of the regular male patrons at the places they frequented finally started to feel a little more ease in approaching Amber, despite her Amazon-like presence.

Unfortunately, most of the guys that swaggered their way over to Amber, for a variety of reasons, didn't flick her switch. There were a handful of guys she saw on a regular basis at the places they'd go that got her juices flowing, but most of them were chatting up women much younger, more buxom and certainly more petite than her before she could think of mustering the will to walk over and say 'hi'.

One guy in particular really caught her attention. He was a good 6 feet 7 tall, barrel-chested and Amber thought he did security at one of the places they frequented, then would go out with his buddies and party at several of the others. Being 6'2" herself, it had always been a secret and unfulfilled fantasy of her's to be with a guy who had the physical stature to toss her around a little in the midst of passion. Amber had a primal sense that this would be just the guy to do it, but he was never at a loss for female attention each time their paths crossed.

Considering her fantasy of being engulfed in a larger man's arms, it came as somewhat of a surprise to Amber when she felt someone staring at her when she went to the bar for a round of drinks early one evening. For a fraction of a second when Amber turned, she couldn't see anyone standing there. It wasn't until she allowed her line of sight to drift lower that she saw a guy no more than 5'6" standing beside her.

"Who let an 8th grader sneak into the club?" was Amber's initial thought until her eyes adjusted enough to the lack of light to see it was in fact a man in front of her and not a child.

"Hello there...my name is Phillipe ...you caught my eye and I thought I'd come over and introduce myself...can I buy you a round?" he smiled and said to the visibly discombobulated woman staring back.

"...Am...Amber," she replied as she sat her friends' drinks back down on the bar to keep from spilling them.

"I'm kind of here...with some friends..." Amber managed to stammer, trying to be as polite as she could as she declined the gentleman's offer.

Much to Amber's surprise, there wasn't a hint of bitterness or frustration in the man's reaction when she shot him down. Having grown so use to the stand-offishness most men exhibited when she rebuked their advances, Amber was somewhat taken aback by the stoic grace Phillipe showed.

"Maybe he's just use to being turned down because of his height," Amber instinctively thought, but there wasn't so much as a hint of defeat in his piercing blue eyes, only a subtle gaze basically saying, 'Your Loss'.

After saying a friendly 'good-bye', the two went their separate ways. Unfortunately for Amber, she found herself strangely pre-occupied for the rest of the evening tracing the man's every move.

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At the age of 27, Phillipe Ruiz could have been one of the most famous and decorated jockeys of his generation. Having worked steadily for nearly a decade at many tracks in the Southwest and Southern California, Phillipe had forged quite a reputation among his peers. Due to a series of nagging injuries and weakness for indulgence, he'd never reached his full potential professionally. He had however tried his best to meet it away from the track.

The Son of a French Cajun Mother and a Puerto Rican Father, Phillipe had grown up close to horses. His paternal Grandfather had been a magnificent jockey back home in Puerto Rico and Cuba, and event hough his Father had gone into the lucrative sugarcane trade instead of racing, he did have the luck of falling in love with a beautiful blonde woman from rural Louisiana who's family happened to own a stud farm.

From day one, Phillipe's only two passions were riding horses and women. By the time he realized he had some significant God-given talent at riding one, his hormones unfortunately kept pulling him to ride the other. Growing up near New Orleans only made the latter more enticing. Even though his diminutive height had always been an initial obstacle with women, between his contagious personality, his rugged and exotic good looks and his youthful athletic prowess, Phillipe could quickly win over a female's attention.

Having flown up to Oregon originally a few months back to meet with several businessmen about a financial stake in buying a stable of horses, Phillipe developed such a quick appreciation for the beauty of the area, he found himself coming up every other weekend or so while he recovered from minor shoulder surgery.

It was just a natural extension that he also dipped his toes, among other things, into all the local nightlife had to offer. Even though his reputation wasn't quite known in the Pacific Northwest, it wouldn't take long before several of the local women discovered why he'd been tagged with the nickname "El Caballo Salvaje", the wild horse, by some of his adoring fans back home.

On this particular night, Phillipe had quickly noticed a stunning and statuesque redhead on the other side of the club. Despite her initial hesitance when he first approached her, Phillipe did sense there was glimmer of interest from the way he seemed to catch the woman staring vaguely in his direction each time he swept his eyes across the room.

Even though there was no such thing as bad pussy, Phillipe had developed quite an affinity for much taller women over the years. A competitor at heart, Phillipe absolutely loved the thrill of the chase, and nothing turned him on more than taking a woman who was initially hesitant or dismissive because of his height, then chipping away at her will until she was on her knees in front of him, or writhing in pleasure beneath him.

Early on that evening he'd laid his eyes on Amber Ross and thought she'd be a perfect candidate for that position. Sadly, she'd rebuffed his casual advances at the bar, but as the night wore on he could feel the weight of the tall divorcee's curiosity increasing. Luckily for Phillipe, a young platinum blonde had taken some interest in what he had to offer and that only seemed to intensify Amber's gaze that much more.

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Amber didn't realize just how distracted she'd become keeping tabs on Phillipe until the 3rd or 4th time one of her friends had to snap her out of a fog after asking her a question. Using the excuse that she was just tired from a long day or had her mind elsewhere, she gradually began to stew in her seat as she stole glance after glance at Phillipe canoodle with the blonde in a booth on the other side of the bar. She nearly melted in fact, with the couple finally stood up and walked past her table on their way out of the club.

By the time that happened, one of Amber's friends had ducked out to the bathroom and the other was up on the dance floor with a guy she'd just met, leaving Amber all alone to wonder how such a short, albeit it, good looking guy had so easily wooed then whisked away a totally hot, tall and buxom blonde bombshell.

Leaving the bar with her friends a half hour or so later, Amber eventually ended up back home alone. With her kids spending the weekend with their Father, Amber had the entire house to herself, and just as she'd done many lonely nights before, she ended up masturbating herself to sleep.

A litany of random images swirling through her head as she sensuously played with herself in bed, Amber somehow found herself fixating on the tiny man that had approached her at the bar.

"Phillipe," she remembered him telling her, and for some reason Amber repeatedly muttered that name under her breath as she worked her rather sturdy mail-order toy in and out of her pussy.

Taking herself up to the precipice of orgasm several times before gracefully pulling herself back, Amber allowed herself to finally tumble over the edge when she conjured the intensely vivid image of Phillipe and the blonde woman from the club having sex at that very moment. The liquid sheen of her arousal splashing all over her thighs each time she wrenched the faux phallus deeper into her slit, Amber's wailing cries filled the otherwise deserted house for nearly a minute as she came.

Stifling a laugh at some point as she came down from her release, Amber briefly visualized how comical the pairing must have looked intertwined together in bed, but her flushed face quickly went pale, and an anxiousness she couldn't quite fathom gripped her spine when she inexplicably imagined herself as the one with him. Laying there all alone in bed, in a searing and intense flash, Amber remembered the man's steely and certain gaze when they'd locked eyes for the briefest of instants at the bar. The dildo, still crouched like a resting serpent inside her womb, suddenly lurched forward and took on a life of it's own once again.

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Amber's after work escapades took a hit a few weeks later when one of her clubbing compatriots began dating a guy she'd met, and the other broke her ankle in a mishap at home. With the trio broken up for the time being, Amber found herself spending most of her weekend nights alone at home, even when her kids were off with their Father.

She thought about possibly putting a personal ad or two online, or perhaps even accepting a dinner date with a guy that had been bugging her at work just to have some semblance of a social life, but another more enticing idea sprouted in her head one night as she tossed and turned, trying to fall asleep.

"Why not just go out without your friends and see what happens?" she asked herself, admittedly curious how things might go without the judgmental eyes of her co-workers to scare away potential suitors.

"That's quite a step for someone as socially inept as you, Amber," the voice of jurisprudence inside her head would remind her several times before the primal pull to try it became too much to bear.

The first night out alone proved to be a revelation. Even for a woman who was 6 foot 2 without heels, without the potential minefield of other women she knew flanking her, Amber was shocked at the volume of men who came up to inquire as to her 'level of thirst' or if she 'frequented the establishment' often.

"A single woman is nothing but low hanging fruit in places like this," she reasoned correctly, but for a 32 year old sexually frustrated divorcee, the attention was more than appreciated.

Having served as the designated driver on most of the occasions when she'd gone out with her friends, Amber decided to indulge herself in a fair amount of social lubricant on those solo nights out, trusting a cab could get her home in one piece.

There were a handful of times Amber allowed herself the guilty pleasure of accepting the affections of a man she'd met during those nights out alone. Usually they just got a room at a hotel near by, and once she'd agreed to go back to his place for the night. Thankfully Amber was still alive to tell the story, but after a few months of living the duel life of dedicated mother and employee during the week and loose and eager tramp on weekends, she began to feel queasy about where things were headed.

Amber remembered the first time she caught a glimpse in a guy's eyes while she was out at one of her regular haunts, a gaze that basically said, "Oh, there's that tall girl over there who everyone's saying is easy."

With her friend, Chloe, on the mend from her broken ankle, Amber sensed her nights of having to go out alone would soon be coming to an end. Strangely, this caused a significant amount of angst internally for her. On one hand, Amber felt a nagging fear that other people at the clubs might insinuate to Chloe about some of the exploits they'd seen Amber do over the previous few months. On the other hand, something even deeper inside Amber worried with Chloe tagging along, she might not be able to expand on the same said exploits.

Deciding to get one last evening out before Chloe barged back into her late night activities, Amber found herself in the lobby bar of the Doubletree Hotel in town. The timing of her visit couldn't have been more cosmic.

Pretty soon after arriving and finding a comfortable seat at the bar, Amber spotted the short man that had approached her a few months back.

"God...what's his name?" she immediately racked her brain.

"...Phillipe," the voice deep within her head quickly replied.

Seated alone at the bar, it didn't take long before Amber started to feel the kinetic energy of several male stares, and within 10 minutes or so a handful had made their way over to gauge her interest. To her disappointment however, the pickings were pretty slim that night, at least with the men who were paying her any attention.

Just as she'd been weeks earlier when she first met Phillipe, Amber found her strangely pre-occupied with the amount of female adoration he was seeming to get, to the point of almost ignoring the men who were occasionally coming up to introduce themselves to her.

Amber spent the next little while dismissively deflecting the inevitable come-ons as she sipped from her fruity mixed drink. Usually a stern, "Thanks, but I'm not interested," did the trick. The presence of a 6 foot 2 inch woman, even seated, rejecting them was usually enough to send the guys searching for easier prey. Amber occasionally had it use the "I'm actually here looking for another woman' card, but it had been her limited experience that saying that often engendered more interest than it deflected.