Amber in Between - Cover

Amber in Between

Copyright© 2011 by Pretty in Pink

Chapter 7

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 7 - The middle story following "Weekend at Grandma's". Teenage swinger Amber is going from high school to the university, with stops at a community college, a network based around sex, and several parties (read orgies). Preparing for college is not easy, especially for a swinger who must hide that activity from others.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Ma/ft   Consensual   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Swinging   Group Sex   Orgy   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Cream Pie   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism  

My first year ended with little fanfare. I went back to the company in Ft. Worth for the summer, where it was more of the same, though with different roommates. But as summer ended, and I packed up and returned to the university, there were a few things that were now different.

In the school's eyes I was a sophomore, though academically I was a junior, or at least taking 300 level courses. As such, though, I had to declare a major. I also got more responsibility in the sorority. I didn't want it, but rules are rules, and everyone lends a hand. I got to assist the Social Director.

Big deal, I thought. And then I learned how much work it was to put on a social event. There were a lot of things to keep in mind, and I had to learn them.

I wasn't very good at it, so soon I was moved to something else. I became the Assistant House Manager, where we ordered in food, paid the bills, and so on. This I liked, especially because I had to learn how to deal with the personalities I encountered. I'd thought the job would be straightforward, but dealing with the cook who was having one of those days was a challenge. The suppliers meant I had to dicker with them, or watch my immediate boss in the house do that. I got an education in how to negotiate that I knew would stand me in good stead in the future.

The only relief I had was with Wesley and the parties we attended. We were going to the adult ones as often as the LSU group. These things had a way of easing the tension. When a guy puts his mouth down there on a girl's body she tends to forget, at least for a time, all of the other things going on in her life. But you can't rely upon someone with a clever tongue. There was no substitute for the real thing, and I spent many a happy evening impaled on some guy's hardness. I'd get so wrapped up in him that everything else would fly out the window.

Good sex can make any person feel complete. Everything is working in harmony, and the joy you get from getting laid on a regular basis is indescribable. I was getting enough of "it" and getting "it" to have a happy outlook on life. I got the reputation around the sorority for being a constantly happy person.

Since I had started taking 300 level courses, and was more or less a Junior, I had to declare a major. That meant I had to decide what I wanted to do with my life. What did I want? Work as a photojournalist? The company I worked for every summer was adding a news division, and I was a logical person for it. But I wanted to do more than be just a pretty face in front of a camera. There would be plenty of those, and my red hair would probably be my only distinguishing feature.

The trouble was all of those reporters and editors who pushed their own political beliefs through selecting news stories and applying a slant to then, the "narrative", had lowered the respect people had for journalists. The feeling was now: If you want to change the world, get personally involved, don't become an advocate with a newspaper column or a TV show.

Robbyn, a girl my age who was widely expected to be the next Chapter President, was walking to campus with me one day, and we got to talking about our futures.

"You're not one of those who's only after her MRS," she said.

"You're not either."

"Oh, I'll get married, and my boyfriend and I have worked things out between us. That isn't what I want, though."

"Oh?"

"I want to be Governor. And I'm going to do it without a law degree."

I didn't hide my surprise. Robbyn had all the ability you could want, and when she spoke you found yourself listening. But politics was a sewer, and full of compromises and moral ambiguities. It would be interesting to see how she coped with all of the mud that would get thrown at her.

"What about you, Amber?"

"I'm torn between a lot of possibilities."

"It's our turn to change the world." She laughed softly. "Every generation says that."

"So what do you think I should do?"

"You want my real opinion? Are you familiar with the old adage "the political will versus the administrative won't?"

"I've heard of it."

"What about reforming the state government? We're going to need the right people to do it, and you have a way with people. You're not like Karen, our Social Director. You have a different talent, and you can negotiate, which means you know how to find the weak points in a person's position and exploit it."

That was an idea. I mulled it over the rest of the week, and had one of those long talks with my counselor. As classes started, my focus changed. Some of the classes I'd been taking as a pre-major were set aside and replaced with political science classes. There were other things I got involved with. It turned into a busy round of classes, social activities, and getting reminded just how things worked.

The only relief, and I needed it, was at the twice-weekly parties. There I could forget about the intricacies and personalities of government, and individual personality played a much larger part than people thought. But I could set that aside when I squatted over an erect dick, slid down it, and the guy played with my boobs, giving me all sorts of good feeling. There are many pleasures in life, and that was one of them, one of the best.

Wesley and I were at a party at a house on the southeastern part of Baton Rouge. They had a pool and patio, and we were outside. There was a guy named Pierre from the bayou part of the state, and he'd just finished giving me a tongue lashing that had left me breathless. Now I was letting that part of me get better acquainted with the other part of his anatomy that jutted out (he could touch the tip of his nose with his tongue). He liked to think he was bigger than most guys (he wasn't) but a wise girl acts that way. Guys who think they are stud muffins like to have the girl tell them so, and then respond by trying to prove it by making her scream in passion. It's a clever strategy, one I fully approved of.

He kept holding back, stopping, pulling out to control his rising excitement, and then putting it back in. I was under no such constraint. I had a really good time, and when he finally came I was a little disappointed. I'd been hoping he'd keep going.

After some cuddling I was off to someone else. I hadn't ever done it in a pool in any meaningful way. This guy took me from behind, and while he did that I wrapped my lips around some other guy's dick. We had sort of a group effort there, and when the guy behind me completed, the guy I'd been sucking took his place. When he finished, number one was ready to go again. It was messy and fun at the same time. I was a little sore when we finished, but with that happy bubble deep inside me that came from getting well and truly laid.

The next night was more of the same. I craned my head to look between us as the first guy was about to mount up. The guy paused and asked, "What are you looking at?"

"I want to watch it going in."

"I didn't think you could. My wife says you have to be a contortionist to do that."

"You do." I smiled up at him. "It's a woman thing. I like looking at hard dicks, and you have a mighty nice one there."

He really couldn't say much at that point, so he did the proper thing, he put it in. I was right, his member was particularly fine, and with it he and I had a good time.

I've noticed other girls trying to get a look, and this is one of the reasons a woman will look at another girl when a guy's entering her for the first time. Call it, oh, call it female curiosity. We want to see. We know what it feels like, wee want to know what it looks like, and couple that visual image with what we're feeling.

There are many questions that can't be answered. Sometimes it's because we don't have the knowledge. A physics major I met at a party told me that one of them was "where did all the mass of the universe go?" Apparently scientists had figured out how to weigh the universe, but it had been on Jenny Craig or something and didn't weigh as much as it should have. It wasn't a question I expected to ponder while relaxing in his arms, but he sounded earnest enough that I did. Too bad I didn't have an answer.

You get most of the questions when you're guard is down and you're relaxing with the guy after you're done. One of the most common is "what does it feel like?" Guys ask that, but there's no real way a girl can answer in terms that a guy will understand. You have to have a girl's insides, and have been raised a girl, to understand the answer. There are a lot of psychological things going through a girl's mind at that moment, and a lot of them can't be explained. I got the same question from younger girls in the sorority, and I was able to give them some sort of an answer, in part because I related the emotional experience, not the physical one. Guys were after the physical aspects.

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