Amber

Everything was going smoothly between Amber and me. I would spend the day working in my tiny home office, and she would go to school and then typically do her homework immediately upon her return. That allowed us to eat dinner and then spend the evening together in each other's arms, either watching television or a film together, or just simply talking.

On Thursday night, as we cuddled and watched the original Ghost in the Shell, Amber commented softly, "She's rather free with baring her body."

"I can't argue with that," I admitted.

"Yeah... I don't think I could be that free in public."

"Oh? You think you'd be that free with baring your body in private?"

Amber finally turned her head away from the screen to gaze into my eyes. "For you, absolutely. But only if it's an audience of one."

I smiled at that thought. "I'd be quite an appreciative audience."

"I'm sure you would be." She placed a gentle kiss upon my chin, then returned her attention to the film as I held her close.

I had seen Ghost in the Shell quite a few times, so my mind began to wander. I envisioned Amber standing before me in the darkness, slowly undressing, slowly revealing her feminine flesh to my eyes...

"You're growing," Amber whispered, touching my thigh dangerously close to my groin.

Only then did I become aware of the bulge slowly becoming more prominent within my slacks. Admittedly, I did feel a little embarrassed, for I had just been caught thinking about this young woman in a perhaps inappropriate way. Then again, she knew how I felt about her, so I really did not need to feel concerned about the situation.

"I'm only growing because of you," I admitted, giving Amber a gentle squeeze. She giggled softly and kissed my chin again, then extricated herself from my hold long enough to reach forward and use the remote control to stop the DVD. In the light of the resultant blue screen, my young companion settled back into my hold, her hand once again touching my thigh dangerously close to my groin.

"You're not trying to make me continue to grow, are you?" I challenged playfully.

Her response was to place her hand directly over the bulge in my slacks and squeeze carefully. "That feels nice," I whispered.

I watched her watching her hand moving back and forth over the growing bulge. She was clearly enraptured with the effect she was having upon my body. Even once the bulge had ceased its growth, she continued to fondle me through my slacks, just as I began to knead a breast through her sweater.

"You must like my chest," Amber commented in an approving manner.

"Indeed I do," I answered honestly. "Indeed I do."

"I've long thought my chest was my best asset."

"Interesting..." I caressed her between her breasts. "I'd say your hair or perhaps your legs."

Amber giggled. "You're just telling a white lie so you don't seem too overeager about breasts, aren't you?"

"Actually, no." I sighed contentedly as she gave the bulge a gentle but firm squeeze. "I like your legs, especially when you're wearing skirts or dresses. And I've always liked your amber hair."

"Whatever," she said dismissively yet with an amused tone. "So, tell me another lie."

"Why lie?"

"What else do you like about me? Physically?"

I hesitated, wondering if I should say what was actually on my mind.

"Go ahead," Amber prompted me, squeezing the bulge one more time. "I won't bite... unless you ask."

We laughed softly together for a few seconds, then the laughter faded into silence as our lips joined together. We boldly stroked each other through the long, deepening kiss. Her touch was perfect, to the point that my arousal was beginning to be uncomfortable. My touch seemed to increase her arousal as well, for she whimpered softly into my mouth.

And when our lips finally separated, she changed position, straddling my thighs, cradling my head to her chest. Through the sweater and the undershirt and the bra, I could feel the heat of her passion and the prominent pulse of her love. I in turn cradled her firm cheeks, noting through the denim that I could not feel the outline of a panty, which made me wonder if Amber was perhaps wearing a thong... or if she was wearing anything at all underneath her snug jeans.

Completely out of the blue, I had a sudden impulse to spank the woman before me, so I did - not hard enough to hurt, but definitely hard enough to get her attention. "Again..." she breathed once she was over the shock of the act. I obliged her, and she groaned as she rocked against me. One more time I spanked her, figuring that three times would be enough.

Amber, however, clearly had another idea, for she stood, then draped herself across my lap, willingly placing herself in the perfect spanking position.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked as I caressed her backside. I definitely did not want to push her further than she was ready to go.

She nodded.

I obliged her.

Late that evening, I again stood outside the door to Amber's bedroom, listening as she shamelessly pleasured herself, the phrase "Spank me again!" wafting past the door between her soft sirenic cries.

At breakfast in the morning, Amber could barely look at me at first. "You heard me last night, I guess," she finally said sheepishly.

"I did," I replied, figuring there was no point in trying to avoid the subject.

She blushed, hard. "I'm sorry," she said. "The touching, the spanking... You had me worked up to quite a frenzy last night. I needed... I simply needed..."

"Trust me," I assured her, "I know. I'm just not quite as... vocal as you are."

Amber smiled, finally looking at me, the blush beginning to fade. "You can spank me anytime you want," she offered.

And that was the beginning of a ritual for us: Just before leaving for school, Amber would bend over my thighs, and I would spank her eighteen times to mark her age, leaving her backside and my hand tingling as a pleasant reminder of our unique relationship.