Polishing an Old Trophy

Polishing an Old Trophy

ATTENTION: To avoid disappointment, please note the following statistics:

Story is 27,669 words / ~7 Literotica pages

There are two sex scenes in the story, and three of masturbation

This took a lot longer than it should have. I wrote this in fits of stops and starts, including a complete computer loss with comensurate loss of at least a few hours of work, and I hope it doesn't show too much. This was more of a linear tale without any real "hooks", if you will. As like my last two stories, there is sex, but it isn't the main focus.

I hope you enjoy, and as always, CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is welcome. Also, still looking for an editor who can help me with flow, cuts, and readthroughs.

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THE FIRST TIME Derek Ringer met "Amber" was at his five-year university homecoming. The only way that Amber could be described was that she was a "wet dream on legs" and what a pair of legs they were! They were long and well-toned, reaching up to the most luscious, firm ass that fit in on her slim body, not fashionably large, but curvy. Travelling up, her waist was trim, her stomach flat, and her breasts were perky, solid handfuls that were very noticeable on her five-foot-six-inch frame. Her face was stunning, with full lips, aqua eyes, and a head full of honey blonde hair, flowing in waves to her upper back.

Even though she was gorgeous there were two things about her that turned Derek off. The first was that she was on the arm of Derek's classmate and teammate on the rugby team, Aloysius "Trey" Nestor III. His usual girl du jour was pretty to look at, but was usually vacuous and, from his telling, usually a dead fish in bed. Essentially, pretty blowup dolls that he could get him off, and then he moved on. Admittedly, Amber was prettier than most.

The second thing that turned Derek off was her attitude all afternoon. While everyone else there was having a good time she walked around and treated everyone like her shit didn't stink. It could have been the three carat diamond on her finger, or it could have been that she was an online "influencer" who was popular in certain circles, or maybe only in her own mind. She walked around taking selfies, nose buried in her cell phone, and complaining loudly to Trey at how boring it was.

"Al!" she whined as she tugged on his arm. "It's really boring here!" she complained, "here" being the special beer garden that they set up behind the endzone at the football game for the celebrants.

"Jesus, Amy! How often do I gotta tell you to call me 'Trey', not Al?!"

"And how many times have I told you, I'm calling myself Amber these days!" she scolded him under her breath, through clenched teeth.

Before she had met Trey, "Amber" was Amelia Novak, the daughter of working-class Polish immigrants to Toronto. Sorority life had knocked the edges off and a name change to "Amber, just Amber" set her on the path to becoming a social media "influencer". Getting engaged to Trey, and the first picture of her engagement ring shot her caché up on social media. Getting engaged to a bonafide heir to a retail fortune really raises the profile of an influencer.

As they walked off, Derek stared at her tight behind and had a thought that she was much better going than coming.

~ ~ ~

THE SECOND TIME that Derek ran into Amber and Aloysious III was at their wedding a year later. Amber had just graduated with her three-year degree in Communications, not that the degree helped with her posts, which were all bikini shots coupled with vacuous platitudes like "seize the day".

Trey had invited the whole team and their significant others. Derek was single at the time, so went it alone, hoping to run into a pretty bridesmaid or cousin that wouldn't mind dancing with him. In reality, he was looking for more than just dancing.

Unfortunately, that was not to be. The bridesmaids and many of the other young, single women, though pretty, were almost all as vacuous as the bride. Some of the other men at the wedding were falling all over themselves trying to chat them up, in the hopes of taking one home. The pretty ones seemed to just take it as their due, which was a complete turn off for Derek, so he resolved to at least enjoy the other elements of hospitality: the food, wine, and song.

Since this was a society wedding, many movers and shakers were in attendance. Without the distraction of seeking companionship for the night, Derek was able to meet and greet many executives. He had worked a few years in sales for a health and beauty company before the call of family brought him to work for his father at the family firm, Ringer In-Store Solutions. While not fruitful from the recreational perspective, it was fruitful from the commercial perspective, so Derek didn't go home too disappointed.

The only contact he had with Trey and Amber was shaking hands in the reception line, and the cheque he dropped into their congratulations card.

~ ~ ~

DEREK'S THIRD ENCOUNTER with Amber was at a charity golf event for the industry two years after the wedding. By now Derek headed sales at his father's company and was able to help grow the business to one of the more respected retail solutions companies in Toronto. Ringer In-Store made a respectable donation so he was there to represent the family firm as well as make further contacts.

The main sponsor was Trey's family through their national chain of sporting goods and outdoor living stores, Nestor's Great Outdoors. The family members involved in the business were all there with their spouses. Derek found himself in a deep conversation with Trey's father Aloysius II, who hated being called Junior, so went with Al Too. Ringer's business with the elder Nestor's firm had grown and he always found his dealings with Al Too to be enjoyable; Al Too reciprocated. As they were speaking, a very pretty, slim, young brunette with green eyes sidled up to the elder man, hooked her arm with his, and looked at Derek curiously.

"Hi Daddy, who's your friend?" she asked. She reached out her hand to Derek and introduced herself without waiting for Al Too's response. "Hi there, I'm Wilhelmina Nestor, Willa, and you are?" Derek instinctively took her hand and found a firm handshake wrapped in soft, smooth skin.

As Derek took in the young lady's charms, he found himself under Willa's scrutiny. Willa, for her part, found much to take in. His six foot height, trim figure, short-cropped dark hair, and thoughtful brown eyes looking through sleek glasses had her eyes sparkling.

"Derek Ringer. We're one of Nestor's vendors," he replied. "I also went to school with Trey. You must be his...?" Derek's question trailed off.

"Oh, I'm Trey's younger sister. I work in marketing at Daddy's company," she clarified. She then went quiet for a moment, waiting for Derek to realise that he hadn't yet released her hand. It took a few long seconds but he finally did.

"My goodness, my apologies," Derek stammered. "Well, it was very nice meeting you Miss Nestor, and as always, a pleasure Mr. Nestor," Derek said as he was set to take his leave and go back to mingling in the crowd. Al Too spoke up, sensing an opportunity to play matchmaker and help his daughter connect with a more respectable type.

"Listen, why don't the two of you get to know each other better. I have to get ready to make the main speech so you'd be doing me a favour, Derek, if you would escort Willa to her seat," he entreated.

"Well, looks like it's just the two of us now then, eh?" Derek smiled as he offered his arm to Willa. As they were walking towards their table, raised voices were heard at the back of the banquet hall. Out of curiosity Willa and Derek walked over to the gathering group around the coat check where Amber and Trey were facing off, an embarrassed looking coat check girl behind Trey.

"I can't believe you Al! What the fuck?" Amber yelled at her husband, her face red with anger. "Can you NOT keep it in your pants for ONE DAY?!"

"Calm down Amber!" Trey responded, not having been married long enough to know that asking an angry woman to calm down usually resulted in the opposite response. "I wasn't doing anything!"

"So sucking face with this, this CHILD in the back of the coat check was nothing?!" Amber screamed as she pointed to the cowed girl behind her husband.

"I'm not a kid ma'am, I'm eighteen...," the girl clarified as she glanced around the room for an escape. As she locked eyes with Derek, he just shook his head at her slightly, and she quieted down.

"Listen Amber, nothing happened. It's not what you think it is," Trey continued as he slowly worked his way towards his wife and grasped her upper arm, hoping to manoeuver her away from the crowd. Instead, what he got was a slap across his face.

"Don't touch me you pig! I'm going home! You can sleep at your mother's!" she yelled before storming off. By this time, management and Al Too had arrived.

"OK folks, show's over," the manager told the crowd as he looked to usher the group out of the area and back into the banquet hall, away from his employee.

"Next round on us!" Al Too announced as he circled his finger above his head in a "round-up" gesture. With free drinks promised, the crowd dispersed to a harried group of bartenders and a heavy sigh from Al Too. Directing his gaze at Trey, he shook his head. "You and I need to talk... LATER. Just keep your trap shut and your fly up for the rest of the evening!" He nodded quickly at Derek and stalked off.

"Boy, big brother is going to catch shit for this later," Willa whispered to Derek with glee and an evil glint in her eye that sent a chill up Derek's spine. He quickly escorted her to her seat and took leave, finding his seat for the evening.

At that moment, he was thankful that he wasn't in a serious relationship.

~ ~ ~

THE LAST TIME that Derek saw Amber was fifteen minutes ago. It was 6PM on a Thursday in Mississauga, two weeks before Christmas, and he found himself at one of those upscale chain restaurants, the ones that serve fancy steaks and hired very pretty women in short skirts. He had just closed a deal with a medium sized retail chain to furnish all the seasonal signage in their locations across Canada. What gratified him even more was that they signed on to his fledgling research package, which would help them understand how their shoppers navigated their stores.

Derek was rewarding himself with a nice, cold, overpriced craft beer at the bar to celebrate when he heard a crash behind him. Per tradition, a cheer went up in the bar area. He turned to see what had happened when he did a double take. Crouched down was a woman that looked a lot like Amber trying to clean up broken plates and food from the floor. A bus boy rushed to help her as a manager came over to pull her aside. They spoke in an alcove near Derek, trying to keep their voices down, but Derek could still pick up what was going on.

"Listen Amelia, you're just not cut out for this," the manager told Amber. "We're gonna have to let you go. We'll pay you for the shift, but we'll need you to clear out your locker. I'll cover your section tonight."

Derek could hear soft sobs and sniffles, likely from Amber, which faded off as she left for the employee area. He sat for a few more minutes with his beer, but after hearing Amber get fired, lost the mood to celebrate. He drained the rest of his beer and settled his tab with the bartender. He pulled on his overcoat, since it was freezing outside.

As Derek walked out, he took a deep breath of icy cold, suburban air, and noticed that it had started snowing lightly. Shaking his head, he dug into his pockets, looking for his keys when he heard someone softly crying a short ways away from him. Squinting into the bitterly cold winter darkness, he could see a young woman hunched over in an open-walled bus shelter, softly crying. He recognized Amber after a few moments, since she had changed from the standard little black dress of the waitstaff into street clothes that were not substantial enough to fight off the nighttime chill.

Derek stood there in his warm overcoat and debated with himself whether to ignore the situation or be the good guy, knowing that often no good deed goes unpunished. On the one hand she was a friend's wife, so he had an obligation. On the other hand, she was a crying female, and that was fraught with danger. Decency won out and he walked over to the bus shelter and looked at the schedule.

"You know, the next bus won't be here for another half hour," he said to the figure huddled on the bench. She looked up at him with red, puffy eyes, tears running down her cheeks, mascara running along with them. Despite the ruined make-up and puffy redness from her crying, she was still stunning. Derek was feeling extremely guilty even noticing that. What he also noticed was that she had neither a hat nor gloves and was wiping her nose with a crumpled-up tissue paper.

Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulled out a clean handkerchief and handed it to her. He was thankful that his father insisted that a gentleman always carry a handkerchief, a lighter, and mints. Amber stared at the handkerchief blankly so Derek sat beside her and gestured for her to take it.

"Go ahead," he said as he took her hand and placed the handkerchief in her open palm. " I have more where those came from anyway." Amber burst out in tears again and buried her face into Derek's shoulder. Some bystanders shot him dirty looks, which he answered with a shrug. He reached around her and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "OK, cry it out," he said as she sobbed. He waited out her crying until all that was left were a few hiccups. "Alright, it's too cold to sit here waiting for the bus. Let's go!" he commanded, physically urging her up off the seat and towards his SUV.

Derek settled Amber into the passenger seat, went around to start the car and turn the heater on. Aiming the blowers at her, he turned slightly and gave her a concerned look. "Listen Amber, I don't want to leave you freezing your butt off waiting for the bus. How about I take you home?" Amber lifted her face to look at him, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. As she moved, the tears streamed down her face. "OK, where to?" Amber shook her head.

"It's too far from here," Amber said quietly, trying to refuse the ride.

"You let me worry about that. So where to?" Derek tried again. Amber sighed.

"I'm in the east end, a few exits away from the Zoo," she replied, shooting him an apologetic look. Derek laughed. "What's so funny?"

"I have to head out there anyways. Our office is near the Zoo, too," Derek explained as he started the vehicle. He glanced over quickly before backing the car out of the parking spot. Despite the puffy eyes, blotchy face, red nose, and miserable expression, Amber was still a very beautiful woman. Derek drove out of the parking lot and headed towards the 401 across the city, running into traffic as soon as he hit the highway. He sighed, "Looks like we'll be here for at least an hour, so nothing to do but talk. Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, I guess...," Amber replied dejectedly. "Least I can do since you're giving me a lift home."

"How come the lady at the restaurant called you Amelia?" he asked, the question on his mind since he heard the exchange.

"That's my name..., Amelia Novak."

"I thought it was Amber... Amber Nestor." Derek's face showed his confusion.

"Yeah, not a lot of influencers named Amelia. Amber sounded more sophisticated," Amelia answered, screwing up her face. "I never really bothered to change it though, and Al thought being married to an Amber sounded better than being married to some poor Polish immigrant's daughter who doesn't even know who her father is," she answered with a sob, tears flowing again.

"Hey, sorry I brought it up Amber..., I mean Amelia," Derek apologised as he gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. "So, you guys moved, eh? I thought you guys lived in Leaside?" Derek named one of the better neighbourhoods in Toronto. That started off another jag of crying. "Hey, hey, did I say something wrong?" Derek asked, like most men, unsure of what to do with a crying woman. Amelia got a hold of herself with a shudder and sniffle, and explained.

"Al and I divorced a year ago. I'm living in Scarborough with my grandmother now."

"Jeez, I'm sorry to hear that, Amelia. Wow, I feel like a heel. Listen, no more questions from me, OK?" patting her shoulder before putting his hand back on the wheel.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. I'm an open book," he responded.

"How come you're being so nice to me?" she asked. "I've never even said 'boo' to you."

Derek shrugged his shoulder. "You may have never said 'boo' to me, but you're still a friend, and I've got to help whenever I can," he explained. Amelia nodded.

"OK then, if we're friends, you can call me Amy," she said.

"OK then. Amy it is," Derek smiled at her. The rest of the ride went smoother, with no repeat of the waterworks until Derek pulled up to an older apartment complex near the Scarborough Courts building. "Here we are."

"Thank you so much Derek. I don't know how to thank you," Amelia gushed.

"Well, there is something...," he started, looking at Amelia for permission to continue.

"OK...," she nodded, agreeing warily.

"I was hoping you'd answer a question," Derek looked for another nod. "It seems like you need a job."

"That's not a question," Amelia clarified, her voice starting to get shaky.

"Well, OK then. Do you need a job?" he asked. "I've got an opening on our shop floor. It's not much, but it pays better than minimum wage, and its near here," he offered. "No special skill required."

Amelia looked at him and nodded, tears streaming down her face again. "That would be so wonderful Derek. I don't know how to thank you even more."

"Well, you could show up tomorrow at eight in a pair of jeans and sneakers, minus the tears. It's a good thing, you know!" he said with a smile. Amelia laughed while she cried.

"OK, tomorrow it is then," she agreed. Derek gave her the address and his personal phone number and wished her a good evening. Amelia smiled as she went into the building. All in all, it hadn't ended up being a bad day.

~ ~ ~

FRIDAY MORNING, DEREK was at the Ringer In-Store facility at seven. He was usually the first one in the office when they were running normal hours. The packing floor got up and running at seven-thirty, and the office got started at around eight-thirty most days. This usually let him beat the traffic that constantly plagued Toronto, not that it let him leave for home any earlier, though.

His father, Davis, and brother, Caleb, arrived a half hour later, congregating around the small conference table in Derek's office. They discussed Derek's successful meeting the day before. Ever the numbers man, Derek's younger brother started working out the revenue and the costs involved. At 7:55 Derek's office phone rang, interrupting the meeting.

"Derek Ringer," he answered.

"Hi Derek," Mona, the much older receptionist replied. "I have a young lady here saying she's starting her first day?"

"Oh yeah! That's Amb... Amelia. Sorry Mona, I forgot to warn you," he apologised.

"No worries, Derek. You coming out soon?"

"Sure Mona. Let me just get rid of the old man and the calculator," he said with a wink to his father and brother, then he hung up. "Sorry guys, going to walk in a new hire."

"New hire, eh, bro?" Caleb smirked. "Didn't know you personally took care of employee intake any more. She hot?"

"Caleb! Discretion!" the elder Ringer scolded. "Too many risks running a company like a locker room these days." Davis turned and gave Derek a pointed look, "That goes for you as well. You put a foot outta line and I'll can you," smiling at the end to take the sting off of the very real threat.