Amber the babysitter 10.
In regaling you some of our times together, I think I make it sound like Amber and I were two crazy nymphomaniacs, fucking every chance we could. On rare occasions, that might have been the case. But in most instances, it is far from the truth. Just like in every relationship, we had our moments. There were multitudes of times, especially before she moved in when we wouldn't have sex for a week or even two. Even after she moved in, there were nights of us being exhausted from our days where, even if we were cuddled together in bed, we had a good night kiss, and both dozed off.
We had our fair share of disagreements, debates, opposing views, and different thoughts on life, politics, and money, just like everyone else. Countless times of other anxieties, pressures of life, menstrual cycles, and children kept us from being as sexually active as perhaps we wanted to be. And that's okay. Because when the mood struck, or we had that time alone, we were two ravishing fiends. Of course, I had more experience than her, so I had those moments of diving face-first into a pussy, where - in the beginning - I think it was still nerve-wracking, awkward, and unusual for her. But as she developed her lust, her experience, and her ability, all those issues went away.
Before we got as close and involved as we were, there were many times I'd sit on my couch in the evening or lay in bed at night thinking, feeling confused, and trying to determine whether or not I should continue dating her and move forward in life as a lesbian. Trying to decide whether or not I was okay with eating pussy for the rest of my life instead of dating a man again or even another woman. I have shared many of those concerns with you. Her age, her abilities, my fears she would leave. The kids, our families, coming out, moving forward. Or even if she wanted children of her own. I had a litany of issues, not because of love and the relationship we were in but because we were two women. Nowadays, it's accepted and I make it seem like I'm lost in the 1970s, but it was always a big concern for me how anyone and everyone would react. And if I could live my life that way for the foreseeable future.
I had no doubt then, just as I have no doubt now, that Amber is a lesbian. When she started having feelings for me, she had courage, spoke up, took the chance, and experienced love between two women, never looking back. Where at that point in my life, I had finally digested that I was bi-sexual. That I could enjoy sexual congress with a woman as much as I had experienced it with men. I think that what scared me the most was finally accepting that I was in love with a woman and wasn't thinking about men. That I was more comfortable playing with tits and eating a pussy, the being on my back getting fucked by a hard dick. As much as I tell you, it was concerning; it was beyond that. It was terrifying. To come to grasp with the fact that you have changed. Your love interest, your sexual desires, and your needs revolving around someone with the same equipment were mind-boggling.
What brought me back to comfort and acceptance and made me feel that things would be alright was her. Her love. Her dedication. Her lust. Her willingness to do anything, try anything - not only sexually - but for us moving forward. She had no problem with the kids. No problem with our age difference. She had no concerns about moving into a smaller house than she had grown up in. No apprehensions about coming home from work to be with me. She had no issues leaving her parents, spreading her wings, and diving into a relationship that neither of us would have imagined. Let alone Christmas night when she asked me to wear a promise ring and be in her life permanently.
Maybe she foresaw it coming. Perhaps her desire for me and my allowing us to develop comforted and eased her mind. Because as terrified as I was, Amber had let go of her desires for men and only wanted me. Whatever it was, our bond had grown tighter. We had fallen in love, admitted our passions and desires for each other, and decided to move forward and build a life together. As petrified as I was, I was also on cloud nine with excitement for what our future held. I was beyond in love with her. As much as sometimes we disagreed or bickered about things, there was no one else I would have rather been lying next to, kissing, holding, communicating with, and sharing time with. She had changed my life.
It's one thing to embark on some sexual experimentation. To try something you would never have fathomed. Be brave enough to do it, only to discover you liked it and want it again. Perhaps if the opportunity presented itself, you could be in an open relationship, where even while being married, your husband would be okay with you bringing home a woman every now and then. But, it's another to wake up in the morning with a woman in your bed, day after day, knowing she is your partner. That you have changed sides. As curious, interested, excited, or even overly roused as you may feel, there are times when it hits home deeper than anyone could imagine. Especially after marriage, kids, and now, knowing the only touch and sexual gratification you'll receive is the loving, soft touch of a woman.
As unique, wild, or even unimaginable as it was, when I laid next to her, feeling her warm skin, seeing her sexy tight firm body, knowing that pussy was mine and mine was for her, I couldn't have felt any safer. I had promised her eight months earlier that I would be hers, stay in this relationship, and marry her. Even though she would be making more money now than she ever had before, I knew she couldn't afford wedding rings. In my heart, I wanted her to be on bended knee proposing to me, but I also felt that if I loved her that much, and I didn't want to lose her, I needed to step it up and ask her.
When the summer was winding down, and she was about to embark on the next chapter of her life teaching 3rd grade, I couldn't have been happier for her. I truly wished I could have gone with her on that first day when school was back in session, to see her in action, to watch the initial morning when her new life was beginning, and to be a part of the first step into the rest of her life.
After searching local jewelry stores, I found two beautiful golden engagement rings accompanied by two modest wedding bands. I purchased both of them, snuck them into the house, and hid them away in hopes she wouldn't find them. In my mind, I wanted to set the perfect night, and I wanted it to be after her first week of teaching. I spoke with my neighbor down the street, who had kids around the same age as mine. My kids and hers are friends and hang out frequently, so I asked her if my kids could spend Saturday night to Sunday so Amber and I could have an evening alone. She graciously agreed, and when Saturday evening came, Amber and I were off for our adventure.
My neighbor and the kids returned to my house after we left to set up the flowers, including the rose petals on the bed, chill the champagne, and turn the lights down low so that when Amber and I got home, she would be completely caught off guard.
We went to a very high-end restaurant and dined like royalty. I about fell out of my chair when the bill came, but for the amount of steak, potatoes, salads, appetizers, and wine we had, I wasn't surprised. We walked around downtown for a bit, window shopping, holding hands, and stopping for a coffee in a quaint little café just before heading home.
Amber must have asked me four times what the special occasion was. I just kept telling her it was my way of treating her to a fabulous night out after her first week teaching and starting her new career. We held hands and conversed on the way home. The hot summer air was sticky and muggy, but neither cared. We were alone, child-free, and had a wonderful dinner, and when we got home, I was going to give her the surprise of her life. I was nervous. Even though I may have looked cool as a cucumber, I was shaking inside. My stomach was doing flips because as we inched ever closer to home, I knew the big moment was coming.
After getting in, I asked her to wait in the front room because I had a surprise for her. What she didn't know was that I was going to propose, but I also wanted both of us to have a bit more fun "at the same time," so I ordered a double-headed dildo online and had it shipped to the house. I figured it would be a perfect night for us to experiment, having wild, hot sex after I proposed while both of us were wearing our engagement rings. It's weird to think back about that moment because a man usually does not get his ring until he's at the altar, but I wanted both of us to wear engagement rings to show the world our love.
I rushed into my bedroom, hid the dildo under my pillow, lit the candles in the room, popped the champagne, and poured it into beautiful wine glasses. I put the engagement rings on the foot of the bed. I slipped into the bathroom, put on one of my favorite long, flowing, open-slit light blue negligees, brushed my teeth, and checked my make-up.
When I was ready, I opened my bedroom door and yelled down the hallway, "Amber, are you ready for your surprise?"
I heard, "Yes," and I patiently waited with the door cracked open just enough to see out.
As Amber reached the door, I slowly opened it, letting her see the dark room lit by the fragrant candles I had burning. The rose petals were on the bed, the sheets pulled back, and the flowers were in every corner. I stood there in a sexy, sleek negligee.
Amber's eyes lit up, and she smiled widely.
"What's all this for?" She asked.
