Amber

Several days had passed, and Amber and I had not spoken about Friday night when I had pleasured her with my hand, or about Saturday night when she had pleasured me with her mouth. It was not that we were pretending those events had not happened. Instead, it seemed as if we both thought that speaking about those events would profane their meaningful significance to us both.

As usual, I spanked Amber before she went to school, and as she stood again and returned her skirt to its socially-acceptable position, she looked at me with an expression I had never before seen in her eyes.

"I want to go back to the house," she said solemnly, even as she rubbed her sore backside through the back of her skirt.

I was a bit surprised, for Amber had shown absolutely no interest in returning to her former home once she had officially moved in with me. In the interim, I had gone to the house a few times per week while she was at school, primarily to clean a little and ensure everything was in order, and I still had a hard time being in the house in which my close friends had lived.

"Are you certain about this?" I asked softly, standing before my friends' daughter and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Are you sure?"

Amber simply nodded solemnly.

"Okay," I said. "When do you want to go?"

"Now."

I thought about that for a moment, about my schedule for the day, but I knew that I could shift things around being a Wednesday. "Are you sure you won't be missing anything critical at school?"

"I'm sure."

"Okay."

Maybe twenty minutes later, Amber unlocked the front door of her former home. She hesitated a long time before she finally turned the doorknob and opened the door.

Hand-in-hand, we walked through the house together, slowly. Amber looked upon everything with an expression I could probably never truly describe with any semblance of accuracy. Clearly, she was reliving memories, but whether they were positive memories or painful memories I could not tell.

Oddly enough, as we stood in the bathroom, she stared at the bathtub, clearly remembering one or more significant events which had taken place in the waters which had once filled that space.

Instinctively, I stood behind her and wrapped my arms around her. She trembled slightly, and soon I felt a tear upon a forearm, and I gave her a gentle squeeze in response.

"I should've waited for you," she whispered, and I initially thought that she was addressing a memory she was seeing before her. But then Amber turned around in my arms and looked up into my eyes. "I wish I would've waited for you," she whispered, the tears beginning to truly stream down her cheeks.

I did not understand what she meant, but I understood the she was in distress. I held her close as she cried upon me, gently rubbing her back as her tears flowed uninhibited.

Eventually, with tears still trickling down her cheeks, she stepped back from my embrace and took my hand in hers. I followed silently as she directed the way to her old bedroom.

The bedroom was rather sparse. The curtains, a dresser, a vase, the bed, and a few posters on the walls were really the only visible signs that this had for ten years served as Amber's private sanctuary. Yet as soon as Amber and I had stepped into the small bedroom, I could feel her calm, although she squeezed my hand a little tighter.

"You've been cleaning in here," she said flatly - not accusingly, but just making a simple observation.

I nodded. "I've been coming here periodically to check the house, make sure everything is as it should be, and to do some cleaning as well. I was just here yesterday actually."

"It shows," she said. "Virtually no dust on anything."

"If I had known we would be coming here today, I would have put some flowers in the vase."

That actually caused Amber to smile a little, subtly lifting her mood, and her smile brought a smile to my face.

"Are you okay?" I asked, deeply concerned. "I haven't seen you like this since the funeral."

Amber only nodded. She placed her hand upon my chest, directly over my heart, looking at her hand as if she could see through it and my chest to see my heart beating for her.

"I'm torn," she acknowledged. "I could sell the house and one of the cars and everything in this place and we'd be fairly well set financially for quite a while. You could even cut back on your consulting work if you wanted. But I also feel like I might lose a part of myself if I sold this place."

Gently, I caressed her shoulders. "Whether or not to sell is your decision to make," I said, although I was touched that she was thinking of me in her decision-making process, "but whatever you decide, I'll support you one thousand percent."

Amber's gaze finally rose from her hand upon my chest to my face, and she gazed into my eyes for a long time, her expression softening with resolve, with purpose. "Make love to me," she finally whispered, "right here on my old bed. Make me a woman. Please."

My eyes widened, for I definitely had not expected this turn of events. Then her eyes began to waver as tears began to well up and threaten to spill down her cheeks once again.

"Right here?" I asked, quite aware of the disbelief in my voice.

"Right here," she confirmed with a nod, tipping her head just enough for the first of her renewed tears to trek down her face. "Please. It means a lot to me to give myself to you right here, right on my old bed."

I began to understand - or so I thought. This house, and especially this bedroom, represented her life as a girl. My house – our house – represented her life as a woman. Giving me her body in her old house, in her old bedroom, upon her old bed, would signal the end of her girlish innocence. And, unless I was reading too much into the situation, it would also signify the break with her past, making it hopefully easier for her to sell this house and the other belongings associated with it.

I gingerly cupped Amber's head with my hands and looked deep into her eyes. "You really want this?" I asked. "Right here?"

"Yes," she replied, more tears falling down her cheeks. "Take me here. Right here on the bed. Make me a woman. Make me your woman. Please."

It was evident just how much she wanted this, and I wanted this for her. Yet I hesitated, for to me, it somehow just did not seem "right."

Sensing my slight reluctance, Amber caressed my chest, then allowed a hand to slide down my jacket and come to rest at the front of my slacks. Instinctively, I began to grow and harden underneath her touch.

"I want this inside me," she affirmed. "Please. I took my own cherry a while ago, so I can't bleed for you, but I still need you to make me a true woman..."

Her hand touched me more firmly, and my body responded accordingly as my arms enveloped her and my lips sought hers. We stood there for a long time, kissing, touching, beginning at last the consummation of our unique relationship.

Slowly, clothes were shed. I undressed Amber, and Amber undressed me. All that could be heard was the kicking aside of shoes, the undoing of zippers, the rustle of falling clothing, and the deepening of breathing.

When I was fully naked at last, Amber nudged me back to her bed and had me sit. I watched with rapt desire and extensive love as she took off her panty, the last of her clothing, standing before me shamelessly and proudly with her hands clasped behind her. Stepping toward me, she parted her legs, as if inviting me to touch her most precious anatomy once again. Reaching forward, I did, finding that her body was weeping in anticipation.

Amber's inhalation was soft yet sharp as my fingertips slid across her moistened sex. With pure desire in her eyes, she looked at me, silently pleading for me to make her a true woman as she subconsciously held her breath, her lower lip quivering just slightly as I stroked gently at the base of her torso. Only when I carefully probed between her plump labia did she exhale, inhaling again loudly as a finger gently rimmed the entrance to her treasured portal.

With my free hand, I reached out to her, grasping her arm carefully yet firmly. Between her legs, I penetrated her at last with my middle finger, drawing out a low moan capable of enticing even the Pope. Hooking the finger inside her, I pulled Amber toward me, and she very willingly complied, standing fully between my thighs and cradling my head to her chest.

To hear the beating of her heart and the filling and emptying of her lungs was a magical moment for me. Her breast under my cheek was warm and soft. Her hands caressed my head with infinite love, while her body coated my finger and my hand with her increasing desire.

Her whimpers becoming moans, I kissed this wonderful person directly over her heart, then edged my head to the side, my lips sealing around a nipple. Taking her tight bud between my teeth, I battered it rapidly with my tongue as I tugged my head gently backward...

Her intake of air was sudden, sharp, wondrous. Her fingernails curled against my scalp as her weeping womanhood clenched around my finger. Clearly, she was succumbing to the rising pleasure, enjoying my ministrations.

For a long time, Amber stood between my thighs, leaning forward, writhing, clutching my head as I alternated from breast to breast, whimpering and moaning as I repeatedly plunged first one and then two and ultimately three fingers inside her dripping body. The scent of her desire was filling the room, and it was starting to make me feel rather heady. The entire scenario definitely had an effect on me, as noted by the dripping length proudly saluting this unique young woman.

When at last I brought my other hand to her clitoris, Amber's cries suddenly became more intense. Her arousal was very nearly at its peak, and it did not take long before she soundlessly enjoyed the orgasm bestowed upon her. When she did make another sound, it was an explosion of sound as her entire body shook violently, the pent-up energy which had been accumulating deep within her finally seizing the opportunity to escape into the world.

I stood, taking the trembling woman into my arms, amazed yet again that this is the same little girl who had grown up before my eyes over the past decade. The same little girl who enjoyed being pulled down the sidewalk as she sat in a wagon was being lifted into my arms and carefully deposited upon the bed, as naked as the day she was born. Yet this was definitely no little girl on the bed before me, looking up at me with love and a hint of nervousness even as she spread her legs for me and bent her knees toward the ceiling.

I hesitated for a moment, considering tasting her, but realized that by parting her legs like this, she was indicating that she was ready now. Still, I made a show of sucking what remained of her tangy broth from my fingers and my palm, my eyes locked with hers as she watched with deep rapture, seemingly amazed that I could be truly savoring her liquid love.

As I finally mounted the bed, Amber's hands moved down her body to her thighs, caressing them as they parted even wider to invite and accommodate me. Her fingertips moved ever closer to her awaiting sex, a not-so-subtle instruction of where to enter her. I smiled, watching as her fingertips stroked alongside her labia, more of her wetness seeping from her wanton body...

I stroked myself, my hardened length pulsing in my hand. My desire seeped from the tip, yearning to join with her and truly convert the girl I watched grow up into a true woman. I could definitely feel a swelling in my chest as I prepared to ease into my precious Amber.

She was vulnerable. Naked before me, she could hide nothing from me. Her amber hair was seemingly all that was left of the little girl I had known. Her lips had become fuller and lightly coated with gloss. Her eyes had become so much more expressive. Her skin had softened from her daily tender care and her face glowed with a slight hint of rouge. Her chest had certainly developed beyond that of the eight-year-old girl I fondly remembered. Yet she was comfortable enough with me to present her vulnerability to me, along with her body and especially her love.

Amber reached up to me, and I positioned myself over her, enjoying how her hands slid easily along my skin. Although she had touched me many times over the previous weeks, this somehow seemed to be much more meaningful for her, much more poignant. Even to me, her touch seemed more tender, more wondrous.

I aligned my sex with hers, then looked deep into her eyes. "I love you, Amber," I whispered, "and I always will."

"I know," she responded with a sweet, not-too-innocent smile.

Amber's fingertips pressed into my sides as I pressed into her body. She seemed to stop breathing, her eyes widening, her lips parting as I entered her, each slow, careful thrust allowing me to delve further into her snug passage. She quivered as her fingernails curled into my skin, an act which scratched me gently and added to the eroticism of the moment.

Her body parted for me, accommodated me, opened itself to me. I paused, waiting for her to breathe again, and when she did, backed out partially, then pressed forward slowly but firmly, and her body allowed me deeper into her as she held her breath, her wide eyes beginning to fill with tears of love. Several times the process repeated itself until, finally, I was fully sheathed inside her. Only then did she finally moan, bearing down on my solid invasion and causing my own breath to catch for a moment.

We remained joined like that in silence for a few minutes. We simply touched and gazed. I dipped my head, and we kissed slowly. She continued to clench around me, learning me in a significant new way and causing me to twitch inside her.

Her breath was hot in my mouth, then hot in my face as I lifted my head away to gaze into her eyes. The love and the trust was very much evident, and I could tell that she was feeling a little discomfort at being so deeply filled.

"I'm trying to be gentle," I assured her, and she smiled slightly. "Hurt me all you want," she responded, caressing my cheek fondly. "I may not be bleeding, but I feel like I should be hurting since this is my first true time..."

I lowered my head again and our lips sealed together. As we kissed, I slowly backed out of her, then respectfully refilled her. No longer did she hold her breath as I pressed into her - instead, she filled me with her breath, whimpering softly, clutching my head. We traded the same breath back and forth as I moved slowly inside her, enjoying the snug fit of her wet passage, reveling in how her body attempted to tug me ever deeper into her, ever closer to her heart.

At last, I reluctantly separated my lips from hers, dipping my face into the junction of her neck and shoulder. Amber held me tightly, breathing hard past my ear. She began to move beneath me, matching the slow and steady pace I had established. Her legs moved against mine, closing around me, entrapping me, a signal that the discomfort was fading. Her hands began to move upon my back and my sides, and her breathing slowed a little as we made love.

At last, I was making love to this beautiful creature. At last, the little girl I had known had been transformed into a true woman. At last, the playful teasing of the previous few weeks was coming to its anticipated climax.

"Do it inside me," Amber requested, a subtle desperation in her voice. "Please..."

Only then did I realize that I was not using any form of protection. I did not know if Amber was on The Pill or any other means of protection. "Are you sure?" I prompted.

"I'm on The Pill," she replied. "I have been for almost a year. Please, do it inside me. Please..."

Her protection and her plea dispelled my concern. Lifting myself up on stiffened arms, I gazed down upon her, sheathing myself fully inside her and grinding against her clitoris. The sounds which emerged from her were definitely not those of an innocent eight-year-old girl - they were instead very much the sounds of an eighteen-year-old woman making love for the first time. The gasps, the whimpers, the moans, the occasional cessation of breathing... the sounds all tugged at my heart as our slow and steady rhythm continued. Gripping my hips, Amber was participating in her own pleasure, nudging me this way and that, using her hands to show me how to give her maximum pleasure, and I was very much eager to learn. When her hands finally left my hips and began to roam my body anew, I knew that I was pleasing her the way she wanted, the way she needed, and as she bore down upon me with more force and began to sputter unintelligible sounds of delight, I knew that I was doing as she wanted.

But I could not simply grind upon her clitoris forever. My own need was beginning to come to the forefront, urging me to move deeper and faster inside her. When I backed out of her body at last, Amber gave a soft mew of protest, but when I pressed into her once again, she hissed beautifully as her fingernails dug into my upper arms.

I bent down, supporting myself on my forearms so I did not crush her with my weight. "You're a true woman now," I whispered into her ear before kissing her cheek.

"I'm truly your" - she gasped as I backed out of her and penetrated her once more - "your woman now," she responded, clenching even more firmly around my throbbing manhood.

I thrust into her several times, reveling in her tight fit as her body clamped around me. Her sounds grew in volume and in intensity. Her breasts quivered nicely beneath me as her body writhed with the desire growing within her. I groaned softly, for her body's natural reactions were very much increasing my own pleasure.

Suddenly, the slow pace felt excruciating. I needed to move faster within her. I needed to feel my body slamming hers with much greater force.

I needed to fill her with my seed, and the fact that she had specifically pleaded for it only increased my need.

I did increase the pace, but I also tried to temper myself. I did not want to move too fast - I did not want to hurt her any more than necessary so that her first time would truly be special for her.

Yet Amber and I were both grunting and moaning with every thrust. Her body rose to meet mine each time I refilled her. Her desire was clear in her eyes, in her touches, and in the copious wetness sloshing within her. I tried to remain quiet, to better hear the protesting of her old bed, the smacking of our bodies, the sloshing of her wetness, and the sweetness of her voice.

Her orgasm was rapidly approaching. I knew it from the sounds escaping her lips: more insistent, more needy. I knew it from her eyes: clamped tightly shut. I knew it from her hands: groping me rapidly, moving with the speed of an attacking tigress.

"OH GOD!" she suddenly screamed, clutching me tightly and pulling me down upon her. Amber's precious sex bore down on me with incredible force as my weight was forced upon her, roughly flattening her breasts between us.

"OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD!"

She was practically hyperventilating, moving more forcefully, and I increased my pace to match her new tempo. I was pounding into her, fast and hard. This was no longer a sweet, gentle lovemaking - this was a true fuck, and I did not know how long I could last as I fucked this beautiful woman with all my heart.

"Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" The sound filtering past her gritted teeth was almost inhuman as her body flailed rapidly beneath me, only my weight preventing her from fully lifting her back up from the bed. Her feet were firmly planted, however, which caused her to lift us both by at least a few inches before plummeting back to the bed - and all the while I was firmly implanted within her, riding her wave of desperate need.