Owning Amber

Amber took a seat, making a mental note to wipe it down when class was over, but soon she grew preoccupied with thoughts of Chad. Something was different. Less than a week ago, they were madly in love. Hell, just a few days ago she was sending him pictures of her barely-covered tits and plotting their next sexual escapade. But as her math teacher droned on with day's lesson, Amber had a revelation: Chad wasn't a cool boyfriend. The guy was a fucking tool. He was casually cruel, as when he started that "Perfume Pagey" chant; he was self-absorbed, never asking how she feels, only demanding more bikini pics; and he was a dolt, too dumb even to know that it's not a bikini, it's a one-piece! Worst of all, he was the same way in bed. Chad has no fucking idea what a woman wants or how to give it to her, Amber decided. Here I am, his girlfriend, horny as fuck, soaking wet and dressed to slay... and the best he can do is play grab-ass?

Lost in her thoughts, Amber didn't hear the teacher call her name. "Hello? Ms. Absinthe! Care to join the rest us?"

"Sorry, sir," Amber said, snapping out of it.

"Thank you for the formality," he replied sarcastically. "Now please demonstrate to the class how to solve this problem," he continued, pointing to a strange-looking equation scratched out in chalk.

In a daze, Amber got out of her seat, giving it a discreet swipe with her hand as she rose to her feet and began what seemed like a mile-long trek to the chalkboard. She knew she had all eyes on her ass as she waddled towards the front of the class, careful not move too quickly.

When she stood in front of the chalkboard, she noticed the equation had been written much higher than last time — she needed to stand on tip toes to reach it. Amber's head felt fizzy and her face hot with embarrassment, only a small part of which was due to her ineptitude at math. As she worked on the problem high above her head, she felt the mini skirt begin to climb her legs and she knew it didn't have far to go. The room seemed charged with an erotic electricity and she could actually feel the entire class, and especially her creepy old teacher, willing her skirt upwards to reveal treasures just barely hidden. Amber paused for a second and attempted to adjust her clothes without being too obvious about it.

"Ok, you can stop right there," her teacher said. Thank goodness! If she had to keep stretching and standing on her tip toes much longer, she would be bare-assed in front of the whole class — including her boyfriend. Or whatever the fuck he was — Amber wasn't sure herself.

But before she could return to her seat, the teacher slid a step stool in her direction. "Use that," he said.

That creepy old fuck sure can move fast when he wants to, she thought, silently cursing every mathematician who ever lived — not that she could name one. She knew that climbing the stool would give at least the kids seated in the front row — including that dipshit Chad — a new perspective on "Beaver Brook High." But there was nothing else she could do. She mounted the stool and accepted her fate.

The buzz of excitement that swept the classroom confirmed her worst fears. She could hear students in the front tittering and chairs in the back scraping on the floor as her classmates angled their desks for a better view. She could even hear Chad yelp as he took several more punches to the arm. A small smile curled her lips. Enjoy the view, Chad, she thought, because it's the last one you're going to get.

Soon, however, Amber realized that she was giving the class more than a look. They could smell her too. The humiliation had coaxed forth a dewey secretion from her inflamed pussy, releasing an ambrosial aroma that permeated the class. The smell had a hint of citrus, not unlike Eau de Bimbo.

Amber never did finish the equation before the bell rang, but not even the teacher seemed to notice and he joined the class in giving her a rousing round of applause before they filed out the door.

Somehow Amber survived the rest of the day without further incident, but the damage was done. Word spread fast that Amber had flashed her pussy in math class. From now on, she assumed, I'll probably be known as "No Undies Amber" and it is all Page's fault. She decided to tell him off once and for all.

She knocked on Page's door promptly at 4:00. The rain continued to pour, but she was grateful for the excuse to cover up with her raincoat — especially after he let her stand outside for five minutes before finally coming to the door. He let her in, took her raincoat and escorted her downstairs, enjoying the view of her big ass pushing out the tiny plaid pleated skirt.

As soon as they got to the lab, Amber exploded. "Do you have any idea what kind of trouble this outfit caused me today? Mr. Richardson made me do a problem on the blackboard, using a fucking step stool, and the whole class saw my cooze! And that was after the whole fucking school saw my tits all day! What the actual hell were you thinking?"

Page didn't respond right away. He simply listened quietly and let her carry on with her tirade. When she finally stopped shouting long enough to take a breath, he asked a simple question. "Did it turn you on?"

"Fuck yes it turned me on!" she spat back at him. "I've been horny all week without any satisfaction and it fucking sucks!"

Amber couldn't believe she had just transitioned from telling Page to fuck off to confessing her innermost sexual needs, but she was beginning to lose control. Her pussy was an inferno between her legs and ached to be filled.

"Well, I suppose you should take care of that," he said blandly. "Come on, let's take your measurements and —"

"Take care of it myself?!" Amber cut him off angrily. She was trembling with rage — and sexual excitement. This guy had worked her into a lather of uncontrolled lust — perfuming her, kissing her, groping her breasts — and now that she was practically begging for some dick, all he could say is that she should rub one out? "Fine, I will take care of it myself! Fuck your measurements and fuck you! I'm out of here!" she hollered before running up the stairs and out of the house.

Page just watched her go. Damn she looked good. When she finds out that she can't cum — and never will — unless I allow it, she'll be crawling back on her hands and knees, he thought to himself. Content that his plan was falling into place, Page idled away the afternoon with his Archie comics, dreaming of what he was going to do next to this little Veronica now that he had turned her into a Betty.

Returning home, Amber gave her parents a quick hello and then shut herself in her bedroom. She wrenched herself out of her sister's tiny skirt, which seemed even tighter than when she put it on this morning, pulled the tank top over her head and jumped on her bed. Her blonde, wet hair hit the pillow with a thwap and her breasts flattened on her chest then sprang upwards, quivering like Jello. Instinctively, she wrapped her hands around the soft warm flesh, squeezing them and teasing her nipples, which caused her to groan deeply.

Just then, a text hit her phone. She sighed and stopped fondling her stacked tits long enough to read it. It was Chad. "Where's my bikini pic?"

"LOL, fuck you Chad," she said aloud, not bothering to text him back. She tossed the phone aside and went back to touching herself.

This time, Amber slid a hand down her flat stomach, following the heat to its source between her legs. When her delicate fingers began tracing circles around the pearly nub of her engorged pussy, a rush of pleasure washed over her entire body. She closed her eyes and saw a galaxy of exploding color as her fingers swirled around her white-hot clitoris. Amber arched her back, making little moans as her pleasure built. She dipped a finger and then another into the sopping entrance to her pussy, her mouth locked open as she pushed through the tight tunnel walls.

Amber shifted her weight on the bed to get more comfortable as she continued playing with her pussy. Fantasies flashed into her mind — a man's big, dark hands chomping away at her munificent breasts, pale as moonlight in his palms. Her breathing quickened as she pulled her gooey fingers back to work on her clit. For a deliriously joyful moment, Amber savored the feeling of control. For several days, she had endured the constant tug of her sexual appetite, like an undertow, dragging her into a state of ever-intensifying but unrelieved arousal. Now, finally, she could take charge and bring herself to what she knew would be a gloriously fulfilling climax.

Her clit throbbed as she rubbed it back and forth and around in circles. Her sexual energy surged and soon the friction was almost too much to bear. Her pussy had never been more enflamed with desire. With her free hand, Amber covered her mouth to stifle the moans and grunts of pleasure to which her power of speech was reduced. The sensation of her soft little fingers pressing against her clit and digging into her drooling pussy transported the busty blonde beauty into an agonizing ecstasy. The room was scented with a pungent odor as Amber rubbed her pussy into a frenzy. She could feel a warmth in her belly and her heart raced as though she was about to cum, but instead her hunger just continued to grow, leaving her craving release until she could hardly control her animal lust.

Amber tried everything she could to push herself over the edge, but nothing would bring her there. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead as she feverishly worked her clit, always on the brink of a cosmic orgasm, but never reaching it.

Eventually, as her arm began to twitch from muscle fatigue, Amber rolled over on her side with a huff and looked at her phone. It was 2:30 a.m.! How fucking long have I been doing this? she wondered.

She was too close to stop now, so she grit her teeth and went back to fingering her pussy rhythmically, as deep as she could, while she closed her eyes and let her fantasies take over.

She imagined a man's touch, rugged and leathery on her porcelain skin, pinching her big tits, tugging her nipples, the hair on his arms and hands crawling like a spider as he treats her swelling bosom like a squeeze toy.

A shudder ran down her spine as she realized she was fantasizing about Page. In her mind's eye, she could see a massively long erection, thick as her wrist, springing out from under her neighbor's bloated, hairy gut, ready to split her in two. Amber desperately needed to feel that monster cock hammering into her tight little slit, but even in her fantasy, he wouldn't let her have it. Her frustration mounted as she frantically massaged her pussy, flicking her clit in a vain attempt to climax.

Finally, at 3:45 a.m., she stopped tormenting herself and admitted defeat. No matter what she did, she could not cum. With tears in her eyes, Amber rolled over and tried to get a few hours' rest before school began. She slept fitfully, unable to calm down as her clit continued pulsing with a steady thrum through the early morning hours.

She awoke to her alarm just two hours later and dragged herself out of bed and into the shower. As the warm spray cascaded off her mountainous tits like a waterfall, Amber tried to get her mind off her torturous night of orgasm denial. At least I can wear whatever I want today, she consoled herself. The hot shower felt rejuvenating, but it was all too brief as she hurried to get ready for school. "TGIF," she lamented.

After toweling herself off, Amber hastily pulled her long blonde hair into pigtails, tied them with pink ribbons, and stood naked, hands on her wide hips, looking at the clothes in her closet. She remembered Page's instructions. "Every day," he had said, she was to wear a short skirt with no panties and no bra. But fuck what he wants, she thought. No one is going to tell me what to wear any more. Unfortunately, though, wearing a bra wasn't an option. Her bras were all 30B; she knew they couldn't hope to contain these huge knockers. And even though she was tempted to give Page the middle finger by wearing pants, yesterday's storm had passed and the weather was sunny and hot. I'm wearing a cute skirt, she told herself, but only because that's what I want to wear, not because some geek next door is making me do it. At least this little red number is mine, not my sister's — even if it did feel awfully snug. And I sure as hell am wearing underwear, especially on a hot day like today, she thought, holding up a sexy silk thong. She didn't need a repeat of yesterday's humiliating debacle in math class.

She just needed to get through the day. It took all her strength of mind to suppress the fierce sexual thirst that cried out from deep inside and her nerves were frayed from the struggle. She had no escape from the ceaseless sexual stimulation. Even the slow walk to the bus stop was fraught with danger as her thick thighs rubbed together, teasing her pussy with every step she took. She could feel her thong dampening as it disappeared into the crack of her ass.

Seeing Page's dumpy silhouette ahead filled her stomach with lust and dread. In her dazed state, she had difficulty separating her fantasies from reality. Had she dreamt of his magnificent pleasure rod? Or was Page really packing ten inches in those droopy khakis he wore every day like a uniform? She had to know. But she was petrified at what he would demand in return. Would she have to flash the bus again? Or her class? Or a teacher? The horror was in knowing she would do all of those things and more if it meant she could ride that cock to a climax. What wouldn't she do? She shuddered to think.

Page hardly glanced up from his comic book as Amber sauntered up to the bus stop, but he did mumble a casual greeting. When she didn't reply, Page peered over the top of his reading material and caught Amber burning a hole in his crotch with her gaze. Her mouth was agape and her tongue lolling as she stared just below his blubbery waistline, before catching herself and quickly looking away. Page went back to his comic, but it wasn't Jughead's antics that made him snicker. He knew from just one glance at her glassy eyes that the repeated dosings with Eau de Bimbo had Amber strung out like a junkie, fiending for a hit of that D.

Page had been saving up a big load for this little bimbo all week and he felt his dick twitch to life as she fought the urge to sneak another sideways peek at it.

For a moment, Page considered just leaving her like that for a few days longer, her body crying out for his cock like she was dying of thirst in the desert, forever on the brink of an orgasm that disappeared like a mirage. Hadn't she ignored him for years? Maybe she should find out what that feels like.

But he knew the bitch was ready. She was panting like a dog, her breasts like cantaloupes stuffed into that tight little shirt. She was his for the taking.

"Whatcha looking at?" he asked suddenly, his face still hidden behind the comic.

Amber was so shocked by the question that she didn't know what to say. He already knew what she was looking at. He caught her staring. Should she just admit it?

Before she could decide on a response, Page continued, lowering his comic and looking her straight in the eye. "You want to see it, don't you, Amber?"

Without even realizing it, Amber nodded. But she didn't need to. The blush in her cheeks already gave her away. Something about the way Page was staring at her, as if he could read her innermost thoughts, unnerved her. She felt flush with humiliation, but her thong was drenched and tingles of nervous energy roiled her stomach.

"Come to my house at 4:00 p.m.," Page said, then, after a moment's pause, he added, "And bring Chad."

The bus arrived and Page immediately climbed aboard, leaving Amber standing in stunned silence. Bring Chad? What the fuck for? She wanted to break up with that asshole and she knew that inviting him to go out with her, especially when her parents forbade it, would give him the wrong idea. And how the fuck was she supposed to explain why they were going to visit her dorky next door neighbor, "Perfume Pagey?"

The bus driver leaned on the horn, snapping Amber out of her daze and she hustled onto the bus. All eyes were on her voluptuous tits and ass as the blonde hottie bounded down the aisle and took her seat at the back.

Amber drifted through her classes like she was sleepwalking. Her pussy ached to be filled and time and time again she found herself wondering if Page really had the rock-hard ten-inch python in his pants that her fantasies conjured up. Knowing that she would see for herself kept her panties wet all day and tied her nerves in knots.

At lunch, Amber sat with Chad and was quickly reminded why she wanted nothing more to do with him. All he cared about was himself. "What's up, babe?" he greeted her, for some reason wearing his sunglasses indoors. "We got a big game tonight — you're coming, right? The way you're looking right now, I'll be extra motivated!"

Without waiting for a response, Chad turned to the table behind them and started high fiving some of his buddies. Amber let out a deflated sigh. Here she was braless in a tight shirt, her plump tits practically bursting through the thin layer of cotton, and keeping this guy's attention was still like herding cats. Even worse, she had forgotten all about the game tonight. If Chad was going to come with her to Page's lab, getting to the game on time was going to be tight. But she had to make it happen. She needed to see Page's massive cock — and feel it inside her. If she didn't get it soon, Amber wasn't sure she could keep her sanity. She was so high on arousal that she couldn't think. With every throbbing pulse that flickered across her sensitive nub, she felt madness just behind.

Amber did her best to compose herself then said, "Chad, I need you to come with me somewhere after school."

Chad stopped goofing around with the boys for just long enough to say, "Nah. We're having a team dinner before the game — gotta carb load, you know?"

Fuuuuck! Amber screamed in her mind. Page was very clear that she should bring Chad and she could not risk upsetting him. She needed that cock desparately. Her body craved it.

"I'll make it worth your while," she replied with a flirty smile.

That got Chad's attention. He cocked an eyebrow and replied, "Oh yeah?"

His come on was so cheesy, so hopelessly high schoolish, that Amber had to strain not to roll her eyes. Even in her state of near-hysterical arousal, she knew she had no need for this kid. He seemed like exactly that: a big, oafish kid. He had a killer body, she couldn't deny that, but she needed a man to put her in her place and make her worship his god-like phallus. Not some dumb jock with the brain of a goldfish and no clue about what a girl needs and how to give it to her.

Amber grit her teeth and reminded herself that this was all a means to an end. She needed that big fat cock — Page's cock — and if that meant getting Chad to tag along, then that is what she intended to do. She flashed Chad a half smile and said, "You know my dorky neighbor?"

A confused look crossed Chad's handsome face. He had no idea what Amber was talking about and he was too fixated on her prominent breasts to pay much attention to what she was saying.

"Perfume Pagey," she said, barely suppressing her exasperation.

"Oh yeah. What about him?" Chad asked, not looking up from her bountiful tits.

"His father is about to release a new summer fragrance and Page promised me a free sample. But I would feel a lot more comfortable going over there to get it if I had a big strong man to escort me. Do you know anyone who would do that?" Amber asked coquetishly.

"I don't know, babe," Chad began. Hearing him call her "babe" was nauseating but she endured it without complaint. "I can't miss the team dinner."