It was a stressful 24 hours. It was what I wanted; of course it was what I wanted. But sometimes you just can't have what you want, or rather who
you want. Amber. My schoolgirl fantasy; my knicker-showing tease.
It was ridiculous how excited and scared I was at the prospect of going on a 'proper' date with Amber. Excited, scared and stressed. And there was something that came naturally when I was any of those things. I cleaned the pipes three times at work, each time provided only limited, physical relief. 16 year old Amber. The idea of being with her made me sweat.
Once I got home, it was even worse - nothing was enough to distract from the impending date. Seven times I masturbated to orgasm. Even by my standards, ten times in one day was something of note.
What to wear... for a schoolgirl? Should I try to ‘young down’ to her? The idea seemed sensible until I started trying on clothes that had been rightly hidden away for years. White socks? I hadn’t done that since I’d been at school. I threw them out and decided against the idea – I’d just stick with my normal date uniform of shirt, smart jeans and black shoes.
Uniform... I thought of Amber in hers. Eleven times... a beer... and another. Sleep came... or at least unconsciousness on the sofa.
I woke early with the curtains still open. I looked like I'd been up all night. I felt bad, really bad. My head was an explosion; my mouth like I'd been licking a sumo's wrestler's dirty crotch strap. Crotch? I was half way through my coffee when I remembered Amber. My stomach sank even as other parts of me rose. I felt better, sharper already. As I did every time I thought of her. And today - today was the day when it
was going to happen, whatever it
I had time and lots of it. I wasn't going to be late, even if I had a nice long shower and took care of the excitement at the thought of seeing Amber. I had a nice soapy wank. It was satisfying, providing relief so that I could get shaved and dressed in relative comfort. The shave was close, and I relished the sting of my aftershave – choosing something citrusy, befitting both the light of a gorgeous sunny morning and my mood: Davidoff’s
Then I was out – I didn't want to be late.
I didn't have time to think. Amber was early too; either that or she'd been peeking out of a window, waiting for me to arrive.
My proverbial tongue fell out. I hadn't given thought to that fact that Amber might look different when out of uniform. My only thoughts had been brief worries that I would look like some kind of pervert being out with a schoolgirl but those worries were blown away in an instant as Amber stepped out onto the pavement.
She looked like a woman; as if Amber had sent out an older sister - at least 19, if not 21. I had wondered whether she might do that excessive, gaudy make-up or big jewelry or loud clothes which girls seemed to use to try and make themselves look older. Not Amber - I wouldn't have thought twice about her age if I'd met her in a club or pub.
She wasn't old enough to go in a pub. I looked her up and down. Pretty black shoes with stumpy heels which she could walk in with ease. Bare legs. I loved Amber's legs. Her skirt was tight and black, with big white spots which finished half-way up her shapely thighs. The way the material tightened alternately, left, then right with every step was mesmerizing. I needed to see what that looked like from behind. Like imaginary hamsters fighting in a sack.
Above the spotty skirt was a white blouse, fancy, not plain, definitely not suitable for school and unbuttoned a little way - enough to attract my interest. And over that was a black jacket which was sculpted to follow the contours of Amber's body.
And above... above there was a girl wearing the biggest grin I'd ever seen. The make-up was subtle with the loose curls of her hair bouncing with every step; she was all vigorous, youthful energy. Amber looked amazing. The most beautiful girl I'd ever seen in my life, bar none.
I was attracted to her in a way which made the world seem different.
It was as though I was looking at a computer monitor that had turned to a higher resolution. Everything was the same, but there was just more of it, and it was in greater detail. What was I going to say? In the end, I didn’t say anything. I kissed her.
It was hard to say who was more surprised. I hadn't planned to kiss her. She was just there
, for me, after all this time. All smiles and bubbly encouragement faded. I felt her struggle, felt her protest.
She wasn't kissing back. Afraid that it was over before it had started, I pulled back.
Amber's gorgeous face was wearing an unreadable expression. There was a lot of shock going on behind those eyes and open mouth... but I couldn't tell what else was going on. I was sure that I was going to get slapped... or worse.
As she flushed with color, I turned to protect myself against a swiftly raised knee. I deserved it, obviously. But that didn't mean I had to take it without trying to defend myself.
“Sorry," Amber said. "I wasn't expecting you to do that. Can we try again?" Her voice was soft, almost in awe. I felt my desire spike and I moved in more slowly, more deliberately and kissed her again.
This time I felt Amber moving, felt her breathing, felt the heat of her. It was still ‘just’ lips, nothing more, but they were moving over and against each other. The warmth spread through my entire body, concentrating in certain parts, as always. Did all men feel like this or was I special (or cursed)?
Almost bubbling, coming to the boil, I had to pull away or else I was at risk of having another accident. Amber’s eyes were closed and she followed me as I moved back.
"Wow," she said. "Is it always like that?"
"No," I said, honestly. "Not for me, anyway." It had never, ever been like that for me. I felt different, after just that one moment of intimacy. From the depths of despair to the heights of unknown delight in mere seconds. Seconds in which Amber had accepted me and my juvenile advance.
It had been a good kiss though. Especially that second one. Amber’s eyes opened, and I could see that they were glazed. I knew that mine were the same. “Good," she said. I had an urge to forget the date - what I really wanted to do was to take her to bed. That was a very dangerous thought. I needed to step back. I'd already taken it too far, already lost control of myself by kissing her. I had over-stepped the mark. Amber was hot, hot hot. I didn't want to lose her by thinking with my prick.
The bus came and we got on it - the first time I'd caught a bus other than to go to work in years.
As we sat together, I couldn’t take my eyes off Amber's legs as she crossed them towards me. That was a good sign - good body language?
I loved the shape of them, of her thighs. Mmmm… Amber's thighs.
"Could you tell?"
"Tell? Tell what?"
Amber shifted in her seat. "That it was my first kiss?"
"Your first kiss?" Other parts of my body started listening in to the conversation.
"Well, first and second kiss, I suppose." There was a shy but radiant smile and a flash of white as Amber's subtly-painted lips parted to reveal her pearly whites. I could feel my blood pressure rising and a need to touch myself, very inappropriately. To still my jittery hand, I slipped my hand around hers and held my knuckles against the cool, smooth skin of her thigh.
That didn't help. My scalp tightened as I grazed her leg. Amber's actual leg – I was touching Amber’s leg!
"So you've never...?" I didn't even know what the question was but Amber's answer was a firm, sharp no. "Right," I said, aimlessly. My brain was going off on all sorts of tangents - there was so much information to process. The way Amber looked, the way she felt, the way she smelled. Every time I turned to look at her, I got a waft of something complicated: something fresh with a lemony top note but underwritten by something woody - something expensive.
Also, as I turned to her, I could see down her blouse, and even when I was looking forward, Amber’s cleavage was in my peripheral vision: soft, smooth slopes that I yearned to touch, and explore.
Every one of my senses was being overwhelmed and all that information was leading to one inevitable conclusion. I needed to fuck her.
I could hire a hotel room. Take Amber to it and do things to and with her. That'd be cool for a woman of my own age. But this was a girl. A 16 year old schoolgirl. Who had just admitted that she had never even kissed a boy, let alone done anything with a man.
"So what do you want to do?" Arghhhhh! I knew exactly what I wanted to do.
I felt the color rising. Did she know what I was thinking? Could she tell that all I wanted to do was fuck her?
"You know what I'd like to do?" I asked, buying time to think. "What I'd really love to do with you..."
"Yes?" she asked, leaning forward, into my eye line. Her blouse opened up, exposing even more of her wonderful cleavage... and the pretty plain cup of her bra.
"I'd love to go underwear shopping." I let out a gasp which wouldn't have been out of place if it had accompanied an orgasm. In fact, I felt a sucking pleasure and realized just how close I had come to embarrassing myself.
I saw the look on Amber's face. She was absolutely delighted. The smile which tore her face open came from somewhere very, very deep down within her.
"I'd love to go underwear shopping with you," she said. And her sweaty hand squeezed mine. Her body jangled with excitement and in the confined space, her bare legs scissored against each other and mine. Oh-My-God.
I imagined Amber doing the very same movement but as she sat on my lap... the obvious pleasure of a very different nature.
"Is there anybody out there?"
"I'm still here," I replied. There was a giggle from behind the curtain.
"No silly, is there anyone else out there?"
"No," I said, looking left and right. The curtain snapped back. My jaw dropped, and my eyes bulged, cartoon-style. Amber wasn't wearing the skirt and blouse she'd been wearing into the changing room. She was wearing very little. What little she was wearing was white with black spots, highlighted with purple-lace.
I probably drooled.
She looked absolutely amazing; shockingly, stunningly beautiful.
She grabbed her hair in both hands and held it up off her shoulders, above her head and struck a little pose, arching her spine, thrusting-out her breasts and bum, mimicking exactly the girl on the poster in the window of La Senza
, that we had admired earlier in the trip. Amber had a better body and was infinitely more attractive to me than the poster girl had been.
The perfect girl - my perfect girl, acting out things that I hadn't even known to fantasize about. It was turning into the most amazing of dates and it was only just beginning.
It wasn’t just my cock that was throbbing as I stood looking at a very-nearly-naked Amber. My whole body was vibrating like a tuning-fork which had just been dropped from a passing aircraft.
"So... what do you think?" Amber quizzed as she did a half-turn and stuck her panty-clad bum towards me. I wasn't thinking anything that I was prepared to relay to a girl on a first date.
I wanted to worship her in the special way that men do.
Did she know the effect she had on me? Was she teasing me? Testing me? Or was she completely oblivious to the effect her body had on me?
My eyes felt like they were on stalks and lower down, another part of my body was sticking out towards sexy, almost-naked Amber. What do I think? I think I want to fuck you here in the changing room.
I could barely form words as I tried to respond. The most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. That was what I tried to say, although it came out as a drunken slur. “You look… absolutely amazing,” I muttered, and Amber rewarded with an extra-special smile.
“Thank you.” That smile turned into something which may have been a little bit naughty and flirty. Only God knew how hard it was to stop myself from doing something. “Right, I’ll just get changed,” and with that she pulled the curtain across and I heard the clip of her bra being undone and falling to the ground. Amber was topless. Fuck!
And a second later I heard what must have been her new knickers being pulled down the slender girlish curves of her legs.
My cock was threatening to explode all by itself. I stepped, not into Amber’s changing room, but the one next door and pulled the curtain across. I dragged my throbbing cock out and wrapped my hand around it.
It felt so good that I almost bent in half.
I could hear Amber in the next cubicle. Was she still naked? Naked? Oh God
. The perfect picture of Amber standing in the cubicle, holding her hair above her head consumed my mind. I turned back towards her, fwapping
my cock directly at her. If only there wasn’t a wall between us, she’d be there, watching me masturbate, watching my hand work my cock for her… and she’d be in range of my spunk.
I took an unsteady step forward, picturing the cubicle next door and the gorgeous 16 year old girl in it. My breathing was ragged – could she hear me masturbating? Masturbating for her? The sound of skin on skin filled my cubicle fwapp, fwapp, fwapp, fwappp, swish
That last noise had been Amber’s curtain being pulled back.
“Hello?” Amber’s voice was right outside. The surprise of it made my balls tighten and I turned automatically towards her voice. I could see her through a gap in the curtain. She was so fucking beautiful.
My orgasm fired.
It should have been dry after what I’d done over the previous 24 hours but I watched in horror as a long rope of white snot shot from the end of my cock towards Amber and glued itself to the curtain.
“Jason?” I almost squeaked a reply as she whispered my name uncertainly. Part of me wanted her to look; wanted her to catch me masturbating over her. That was the white-hot lust-driven part of me. But how would she react to my being in a girl’s changing room with a spunk-covered curtain?
Amber looked round and for a moment I was sure that her eyes paused on the gap in the curtain. Was she looking at my cock? My breathing stopped. How would she respond? More milky white was leaking from my cock as I watched Amber turn again and then walk away. Was she horrified by my actions? Even now was she leaving me forever?
I milked my cock, with not a thought about who might be following me into the cubicle. Would they get my spunk all over their hand when they closed the curtain, all over their feet as they changed? I didn’t care.
I hurried out, chasing after Amber – except that she was waiting for me. “Oh, I didn’t see you back there,” she said.
“OK.” I didn’t know whether it was a causal comment or whether she had
seen me but was indicating that she didn’t want to talk about it. She was driving me mad with lust.
Was she cock-watching temptress who had deliberately shown me her body and then seen the spunk leaking from my cock? Or was she an innocent schoolgirl who knew nothing of what she was doing to me and what I was doing about it.
I had just masturbated in a woman’s changing cubicle and left my spunk dribbling down the curtain and pooled on the floor. They could get DNA and I could end up in jail…
“So, do you want me to buy them?”
“Hmmmmm?” I briefly wondered whether Amber was offering to sell me her breasts, since that was what I was staring at, helplessly.
“The underwear? Would you like to see me wearing it again?” My toes curled. “I thought it was really pretty and it was a good fit.” I felt like I needed to lean against a wall or sit down as I thought about Amber in that underwear. I wasn’t capable of expressing how sexy Amber looked in mere words.
“I’ll get these,” I said, taking the underwear off her. I swallowed, my mind filled with future instances where I would have Amber’s underwear in my hands, still warm from her now-naked body. “And maybe get the other colors in the range?”
“Awww. That’s really sweet of you,” and her hand dropped into mine as we walked to the rack of underwear and I watched as Amber selected two versions of 34Bs and matching size 8 brief knickers. I made a mental note of her size and then headed to the checkout, feeling like a pervert although we drew no attention whatsoever: I was the super-cool, if slightly sweaty boyfriend, buying his sexy girlfriend a few new sets of underwear for their bedroom.
Would I get to see them in the bedroom? Would I get to take them off her? That was what I was thinking as I passed them to the checkout girl. She looked about 16 too. Evidently, she was
“Hey Amber,” she said. I actually felt my sphincter tighten. Hi my name is Clare
“Oh hey, Clare,” Amber said, as she clung to my arm. Her whole body was in contact with me. “Clare’s a friend from school.”
“Oh hi, Clare,” I said, trying to sound mature and in control but feeling the heat of embarrassment rising. There was a blind panic, forgotten but still familiar. Apparently, schoolgirls still scared and intimidated me.
“This is my man,” Amber said. “Jason.” Clare looked down at the pretty knickers and bras and then back up at me. You could see her calculating. This really didn’t look like a first date. This looked like lovers getting ready to have some sexy fun together.
I let Amber steer; if she wanted to pretend that there was more to us than there was... and her body language, along with the words Amber had used suggested she did. Her
man? That was very strong and possessive language and spoke of something
– was she showing me off? Was she proud of the man she had bagged? Using me to up herself in some way?
“A friend of yours?” I asked, as Amber guided me away.
“More like a frenemy,” she said, tightly.
“Someone who pretends to be my friend. Everyone in school will know about us in a couple of hours.”
“Is that a problem?”
Amber actually stopped dead, making me swing around to face her. “Are you kidding?” I still had no idea whether it was a good or bad thing, but didn’t want to show my ignorance by asking her to clarify the situation for me. Amber clarified it for me. She pulled me down into a kiss.
A kiss was good, right?
Or maybe it is bad, but she just didn’t care?
I felt out of my depth when it came to teenage girls and their complicated politics, so just made sure that the kiss was a good one. A really good one.
“Can we go to the cinema?” Amber asked, breaking away.
“Yes, I suppose. Is there something you want to see?”
“No. It’d just be nice to sit down in the dark with you and do… this.” Amber kissed me again. I had been thinking about a nice meal at a restaurant but sharing popcorn and slushies for a couple of hours seemed like a much better alternative – especially if kissing was going to be involved.
Kissing was involved. A lot of kissing and I wasn’t disappointed that there wasn’t anything more than kissing. The darkness gave me time to settle down and just enjoy being with Amber. We held hands and we kissed and that was perfect. It felt right.
“So what do you want to do now?” I asked, as we exited into the bright afternoon sunshine.
“Well, I have to be getting back.”
“Oh, right.” I felt a bit stunned, not ready for my day with Amber to end quite yet.
“I need to get back for my job. Are you coming back now?” I was but I felt deflated – which made the journey home a rather difficult one. The bus was busy and we simply sat there, quietly holding hands as kids screeched and bounced all around us. Was this OK after all that had gone before?
We got off the bus and lingered for a moment. “I’ll walk you home.”
It was a very short trip, which was lucky as there were no words accompanying it. “So, are you going to ask me for my number?” Amber prompted. The bus stop had had even more of a dampening effect.
And to add to the problems, we were standing outside Amber’s front door. Marie was in there waiting for her daughter, perhaps watching disapprovingly even now. Amber was a schoolgirl again and I felt uncomfortable, which was ridiculous after the day we’d spent together.
“Yes, of course, if you want me to have it.” What was wrong
with me? I had made it sound like I didn’t
want it, that I was only taking it because Amber was making
me take it. I took out my phone and closed my mouth before it could do any more damage.
Amber could feel the tension but didn’t know how to fix it.
Neither did I.
“I’m working tonight, and we’re out tomorrow. Maybe give me a call tomorrow night?” she asked. Something had gone horribly wrong here. It had been a fantastic day, a fantastic date, yet here we were wondering whether we were going to talk to each other again.
“Don’t forget these,” I said, handing the shopping bag of underwear. I felt sadness welling – I wasn’t sure whether I would get chance to see them on her. “I’m sure you’ll look amazing in them.”
Her brow furrowed. “But you’ve seen me in them already, remember?” We were clashing horribly. I wanted to escape before I made things worse.
“What time do you start work?” I was only trying to change the subject but it sounded
like I was drawing a line to signify the end of our date.
“About half an hour. I suppose I should go.” Even a 16 year old girl could take that
“Well, this was really good. We should do it again.” The clichés were falling out of my mouth and I just couldn’t stop them.
“Yes, we should,” Amber looked confused.
“I’d best be…” she said, turning away. My instincts took over - they wouldn’t let her leave like that. I gripped her hand and pulled her back.
“Sorry this has all got a bit weird,” I said.
“How did it happen?”
“I don’t know, but…” I kissed her, gently and sweetly. “Everything’s going to be OK. It really was a wonderful day.” There was a brave little smile.
“Ring me tomorrow?”
“Promise?” I just winked and nodded.
“Of course.” The smile brightened a little and then she turned away and went inside. I must be a weirdo – I can make anything weird
. I turned and walked slowly back towards the bus stop, seeing it from Amber’s angle for the first time.
My phone was still in my hand. Her number, just there. I rang and she picked-up straight away. “I will ring you, tomorrow.”
“You’d better,” she laughed, and things were back to normal, just like that.
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/masturbation/amber-saturday.aspx">Amber: Saturday</a>