My heart was pounding as I waited at the bus stop on Monday morning. I'd barely slept since I'd spoken to Marie. I replayed her words again and again. The promise I'd made to her. That I would talk to her daughter. My palms were sweaty and my whole body was fidgety. I was barely in control of myself – my body pumped full of excited adrenaline.
Of course, it was ridiculous. She was the one who was 16, not me. I should be in control of myself. Eager; yes. Excited; maybe. But scared? I definitely shouldn't be scared, not of talking to a girl... what was I? Man or boy?
I felt sweat rolling down from my armpits as the minutes ticked by. She was late. Perhaps she wouldn't come today: that would be a relief; a disappointment but a tremendous relief.
Tomorrow. I'd be able to talk to her tomorrow. I’d be ready tomorrow.
But even as that thought occurred, the door opened and Amber came out. She was fully dressed, co-ordinated, in control. I watched as she carefully passed the key through the letterbox and turned towards me. She smiled. At me. Good God she had a pretty smile. And she waved. A little wristy wave, for me.
I was waving too. And smiling. I hadn't realised that I'd been mirroring her actions.
Something, anything to cover that awkward period of time from when you see someone you know at a distance that is too great for you to say anything to when you... say? Shit - what was I going to say?
"Hi," we both said, too soon. The movement of blood was co-ordinated this time and we both flushed with embarrassment.
"So," I said, feeling the need to drive the conversation. "You've been off school?" meaning “I've really missed you. Hadn't realised just how much I'd missed you until this moment. Missed you and your pretty knickers."
"Yeah - I got in trouble."
"For hitting that lad?"
"Yeah," Amber said smiling brightly, not in the least surprised that I knew about the finer details of her absenteeism.
Was she smiling… or trying not to laugh? Had her Mum told her that we'd spoken? Had Marie noticed that I’d come in my pants as I’d been talking to her. Had they been laughing about me? Was Amber trying to stifle the laughter now, thinking about what her Mum had told her?
"I'm sure he deserved it," I said, forcing a smile.
"Yeah, although I didn't mean to hurt him. He just made me so angry, spreading those... lies about me."
"I thought you fancied him?"
Amber made a derisive snort.
"Matt? No way! He's way too immature." There was a pause and she looked away. "They're all so immature," she added softly. She looked-up sharply and our eyes met with a significance that made my blood rush again... except it was undecided as to the direction of flow and split 40/60 with most going down.
"Amber...," I croaked, unsure what I was going to say after that single word. She was 16. I was pretty sure that it’d be illegal to ask her out for a drink… but it’d be totally legal to have sex with her.
A hotel room. Her discarded uniform on the floor… meaning she was naked in that bed. Which knickers were hanging on the bedpost? My mind caught on that insignificant detail. Of course it did. Fucking panty fetish.
My cock throbbed for her. Caught in the familiar fantasy, my hand moved over the hard flesh in my pocket. Using the curve of my fingers to mask the movement, I pinched the sensitive tip of my cock with my thumb. It felt amazing.
"The yellow ones with the white spots."
"What?" I asked, still stroking.
"The bus is coming." So might I have been as Amber turned to face me and very seriously, very deliberately, pulled her skirt up to reveal her legs and then the ‘V’ of her crotch.
There was a tiny sliver of bright yellow. It dipped down dangerously. But more importantly, the material was sheer. Transparent. I could see Amber’s pussy. Clearly. Not just an outline, an impression or the contour lines on a map. I could see the actual skin. The flesh.
Skin? My mouth fell open. There were no pubes. At all. Completely shaved. Denuded. I could even see the bumps of the individual hair follicles on her pubic mound. The top of her slit.
I wanted nothing more than to drop to my knees and press my mouth over Amber’s pussy.
“You like?” she asked. A groan escaped in place of actual words but the sentiment was there, the meaning clear. Amber’s face lit up with an enormous smile. “I knew you would.” My legs went weak. Fuck, I needed to come.
As Amber looked away to check on the progress of the bus, I pinched my cock fast and hard, feeling the muscles in my palm burning with the unfamiliar intensity of the exercise. My eyes flicked quickly to the swell of Amber’s breasts inside her blouse before dropping back to her knickers.
I couldn’t believe that they were there, on show for me. And they were transparent. Amber must know that I could see her pussy. She must have made a decision to show me when she put them on that morning. A reward? Ooooh fuck!
The stress and excitement, the longing of the previous week meant it was easy to take myself over the edge. By the time Amber turned back, my spunk was being pumped into my underwear. Again. Deliberately this time.
Did she know? I hoped she did.
Our little secret.
I grinned at Amber. An aimless, meaningless, sex-grin. I was coming hard; delicious waves of orgasm meaning I was too stunned to say anything.
Being a gentleman, and unable to walk properly, I let Amber on first. Amber being Amber, did something outrageous with her skirt as she went up the stairs to the top deck and I was briefly face-to-face with the slender curves of her bare legs and her panty-clad bum. The cheeks were pert and separate… not only did I get the best look yet of Amber’s pussy but I clearly saw the wrinkled skin of her arsehole. Or was I imagining that?
I blinked and saw the image as if burnt on the inside of my eyelids. Nope, I hadn’t been imagining it. That was a view I hoped I would never forget... and one I hoped to see again.
Amber went to the back of the bus, while I took-up my usual seat at the front and grinned to myself as I closed my eyes.
"Oh Amber, we've missed you," chorused out from behind. 'We' certainly had.
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<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/exhibitionism/amber-monday.aspx">Amber: Monday</a>