Amber Butterfly Ch. 08

Diana rolled off, panting.

"Oh my God--that was incredible," Diana gasped as she turned over to kiss Amber on the lips. She giggled as she tasted her own pussy sauce on Amber's mouth.

Amber giggled also and got up to wash her face, and Diana did the same.

Afterwards the two women held each other close.

The same evening Amber and Diana made love for the first time, Johnson was meeting with Mike--this time in a conference room in an office building.

Johnson was aware of the situation. He had delivered as promised. Furthermore, they had managed to squeeze one more movie from outtakes and various unused scenes and edits from past movies. He knew what they wanted: more of Amber. He had made a lot of promises to them early on. The problem was he knew his bridge with Amber was permanently burned down.

Mike and his boss joined him in the conference room. As he feared--it was not a good meeting. Johnson was threatened with termination if he didn't produce results. Contracts had been signed, promises made, millions of dollars had already changed hands.

As he got out of the meeting, he dialed Kathleen on his cell phone.

In the morning, Amber dropped Diana off at the airport. Amber drove Diana's old Toyota, with the intention that she would drop Diana off without parking--thus avoiding the expense of parking. As they approached, Amber suddenly switched lanes and entered the lane to the parking garage.

"I want to see you off," she explained, glancing over at Diana.

They were unable to pull out of the lane at this point, so Diana just nodded. She thought she had a little bit of cash she could give Amber to cover the parking fee.

After they had parked, they sat in the car for a couple of minutes.

Amber looked over at Diana.

"I'm going to miss you," she said.

"Hey kiddo--I'll only be gone a couple of weeks!" Diana replied, reaching up to touch Amber's cheek.

Amber looped her hand behind Diana's head and pulled her close. The two girls paused for a minute, faces only half an inch apart. They looked each other In the eye, and then spontaneously, they both began kissing each other, slowly and tenderly.

Diana moaned into her lips, twisting and turning in the car seat to get closer to Amber. Finally she broke it off.

"I've got to go--I'll miss my flight," she murmured.

They unloaded Diana's luggage, checked in, and Amber walked her to the security gate. She gave her best friend one last embrace.

"Merry Christmas!" she said to Diana, trying not to cry.

"Hey, I'm Jewish--remember," Diana grinned back at her.

"Oh God--er, I mean I'm sorry--Happy Hanukkah!" she corrected herself.

"To tell you the truth, my family's not really big on Hanukkah. My trip home has more to do with me having time off from college so I can go home and less to do with holidays, but thanks anyway," Diana replied as she pulled her shoes off and set them on the conveyor.

Diana turned toward Amber again, and gave her a hug.

"Look, she said. "I'm sorry you have to be alone. I'll send you some emails. And when I come back I'll bring you a gift. I didn't have much money to get anything for you before now, but my foster grandmother always gives me some cash when I go home. I'll bring you a Christmas present when I come back. I promise."

Amber hugged her friend fiercely. "Babe--you don't have to do anything for me!"

"But I will--take care, and don't forget to feed the fish!"

With that Diana moved through the security gate, and Amber watched as she went through, collected her purse from the conveyor and put her shoes back on, and walked down the concourse.

Diana turned around and waved a last time, as Amber watched with a tear in her eye until she was out of sight.

Amber returned to Diana's car, and looked in her wallet. She had $7 left. It took $3 to cover the parking--fortunately she had been there less than an hour.

That afternoon and evening was the loneliest Amber had ever experienced. She tried watching TV, but reality shows bored her. In frustration, she turned off the TV. Since it was December, it was already dark outside, but it was unseasonably warm. She paced back and forth restlessly. She tried reading a book--one of Laurel Hamilton's books, but she couldn't concentrate on it.

Should she call someone? But no, her cell phone access had been cut off because she didn't have enough money to pay her bill. Right now, all she could do is use the text messaging feature. She expected that to be cut off next month.

She thought of making herself supper, but wasn't hungry.

When she had come home, she had cleaned the apartment from top to bottom, so there was nothing left to do there. What good would it do to scrub the toilet again?

She decided to take a shower and pamper herself. The warm water felt good. It reminded her of the shower she and Diana had taken together the previous evening. The hot spray of the shower drummed on her breasts. They felt hot and sensitive.

She grabbed the shampoo bottle. She tried to pour some in her hand, but it was almost empty. She shook it some, it sputtered air, and then a stream of the white viscous fluid sprayed into her hand--just like a man's dick cumming, she thought. She lathered up her hair, rinsed, and then applied conditioner. Then she soaped herself down thoroughly, luxuriating in the hot steamy shower, and the thick lather from the soap. Her nipples tightened up as she lathered her breasts.

It reminded her of her shower with Diana--only yesterday it was. It seemed weeks ago. She thought of Diana again, and her friend's body up against hers. It had helped sate her appetite, but not nearly enough. She let out a soft moan. God she was horny!

Finally she rinsed off, turned the water off, and dried herself off. The towel felt wonderful as she dried off her legs, raising each one up on the toilet seat. Gingerly, she toweled herself dry between her legs. She gasped as the towel brushed against her inflamed pussy.

She pulled on her bathrobe. Now what? She opened the refrigerator. Diana had left a bit of chilled white wine. She filled a glass, and drank it down. What the hell? No one was around anyway. She refilled it, and slowly drank the next glass as she walked around. She sat down and tried watching TV again, but once again, got bored with it and lost interest.

Amber sighed and rubbed her thighs. She looked out the sliding glass door that opened to the balcony. Why couldn't an intruder break in right now? She remembered a time when the idea of a masked intruder breaking into her apartment would have terrified her. Now she longed for it to happen. Where were they when you wanted them anyway?

She went to her room and powered up her laptop. As the wallpaper came on--which was still a picture of the Chevy S10 pick-up she had sold to pay for her tattoo, she suddenly remembered what Johnson had as his wallpaper.

It had been a picture of her from the orgy she had gotten caught up in--a picture of her being fucked both in the pussy and the ass. She almost moaned with pleasure as she remembered that party. She wished she was at the party again.

She Googled her pseudonym--Amber Butterfly. She was all over the Internet. Pictures, video clips--the works. She tried Googling her real name, and she came up with almost as many hits. She was famous--infamous rather. She was surprised to realize she no longer felt shock or embarrassment, or even regret. Just sadness over all that had transpired--her whole life was completely ruined, or at least transformed--and a dull seething hatred of Johnson, as well as anxiety over her future.

Amber noticed a new DVD advertised on a number of websites--"Dreams of Amber Butterfly". Too bad she couldn't get a dime from any of it. She thought bitterly that Johnson was raking in some serious money now--she was sure his Cadillac Escalade was just the beginning. Meanwhile, she was down to her last $7.

She watched some video clips of herself. It made her even more hot. She could see how people could get addicted to this. She also watched some other clips without her in them--just to compare. She beamed with pride as she thought she compared very favorably to any other porn star, both in beauty and ability. She saw others though, that she really liked, and took note of their names, as well as male stars she liked the look of.

The whole time, she was getting more and more horny. Jesus Fucking Christ--she had to get laid! She didn't want her dildo again either. A toy just wouldn't do.

She shucked off her bathrobe--considering what to do. The room was starting to feel really cramped--and she started feeling as if she couldn't breathe. She shut down the laptop.

Once again, she walked out into the living room--naked. Trying to force thoughts of sex out of her head, she sat down naked on the sofa and tried to watch TV again, but it wasn't working. She squirmed around on the sofa, her legs tucked underneath her ass, and she felt a trickle of moisture seeping from her vagina.

She moaned, rubbing her thighs again, and got up.

Amber walked out on to the balcony naked--she didn't care who saw her--she WANTED to be seen. She leaned over the balcony rail and massaged her heavy tits in her hands, but there was no one there to see. This was a poorer neighborhood than where Johnson had his, and she could tell at a glance that most likely, no one saw her.

She had to get out of here--at least for a bit before she went crazy. She thought of downtown. Maybe a bar. She was sure she could get men to buy drinks for her. She didn't dare take Diana's Toyota though. She shuddered at the risk she'd be taking with it if she got pulled over for a DUI, or if the car got broken into downtown. Groaning with frustration, she dashed back into the apartment and went to her room. She looked again in her purse. She had $4--that was enough to get downtown on the bus and back. She wished she still had her Chevy pick-up, but then she wouldn't have wanted to park it downtown anyway. But at least she could get out of this stuffy apartment.

What to wear? It's not like she had a reputation to protect anymore. She was in the mood to show off her body to anyone who wanted to see it. She was sick and tired of hiding. She rifled through her suitcases. Then she saw it--the one-piece cocktail party dress she had worn to the fateful party a few months ago.

She froze, and started breathing heavily, her heart racing. Slowly she picked it up and pulled it over her head. The slinky material clung to her naked body.

"How can a dress make me feel more naked than when I'm actually naked?" she wondered.

She reached down into her suitcase to pull on a pair of panties, but stopped and stepped out of them. Next she brushed her hair, put on some lip gloss, and slipped on a pair of pumps.

She stood and admired herself in the mirror. Damn--she had to admit to herself that she had a fine body!

She grabbed her small purse and was out of the apartment in a flash. Five minutes later she was on a city bus.