A Taste Of Amber

by Penny Birch

  She was looking straight at me, her face the colour of a tomato. I was across the stream from her, Ginny sitting on a rock in the middle.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she continued, turning away.

  I thought she was going to cry, and felt really bad because she had had the guts to admit it and I hadn’t responded. If I didn’t take my chance immediately I knew it would be gone.

  ‘So do I, Susan,’ I said quickly as she started to rise to leave. ‘You especially.’

  She turned back, and there were tears streaming down her face. Ginny was looking on with an amazed expression. Susan obviously wanted a cuddle so I opened my arms for her, anticipating how her body would feel even as she stepped down into the stream.

  What would have happened then I will never know. I wanted to take her in my arms and snog her, then cuddle Ginny so that she wouldn’t feel left out but, before she reached me, the sharp yap of a dog broke the trance. I turned to see a black and white mongrel trotting towards us, then heard its owner’s voice from further away.

  Susan stopped and Ginny hastily rearranged her skirt to cover the front of her panties. I stood up, looking in the direction the man’s voice had come from. Standing on the rock I could see him, some way off and not actually heading in our direction. The moment had gone, yet the all-important admission had been made. When we’d kissed before, it had been in play, both of us pretending it was done out of curiosity. The next one would be unashamed passion; it was just a question of when.

  Not very long was the obvious answer as we walked back in the general direction of school. There was a really intimate atmosphere between the three of us and we took each other’s hands once we were on less rocky ground. I was in the middle, and itching to cuddle them both and let my hands explore their bodies. There would have been no resistance; just the opposite, in fact, but there just wasn’t quite enough privacy.

  We’d come round in a big loop. It was about four miles back to school, which would have meant that we’d have arrived respectably sober and in time for dinner. As it was, we were passing The Bear just as it was opening.

  The pub was a great favourite with the girls, although it was unpopular with the school staff as it was happy to serve anybody old enough to be legally entitled to drink, regardless of petty things like school rules. Also, the course of an old railway ran some two hundred yards behind it and provided a route back to the school grounds that avoided the roads. We were hot, footsore and badly in need of a drink, so went inside without hesitation.

  We were just at that stage of drunkenness when you haven’t started to feel bad but have gone too far to realise that you ought to stop. Ginny ordered strong cider, flirting outrageously with the barman as he drew three pints of a dark gold fluid from a wooden barrel behind the bar. It was delicious; sweet, heady and intoxicating.

  Not surprisingly we got drunk. However, it was the good sense of the barman in refusing to serve us a third round that was our real undoing. If he had, we’d have been too far gone to really do anything other than stagger back to school and go to sleep. The worst that would have happened was that we would have been punished for drunkenness. As it was, we came out of the pub in a thoroughly merry and rebellious mood; we were also very turned on.

  As we started up the track I put my arms around the others’ waists, then gave Ginny’s bottom a squeeze as I helped her over the fence that led up to the old railway line. To get there we had to climb a steep slope to a section of viaduct, wet grass and loose shale making the going difficult at the best of times. In our condition it was next to impossible and extremely funny. It also meant that I could see up both of their skirts, the view of round bottoms in tight white panties completing the work the cider had begun.

  I had to push Susan up to help her over the wall at the top, then followed, landing laughing on the grass between the two walls. Suddenly there was just the two grey walls, the thick stands of gorse that blocked off either end of the viaduct, and the sky; we were alone. Susan was on her back with her knees up and together, her sex pouting from between her thighs with the white cotton pulled tight against it.

  ‘Would you two like to kiss me?’ she asked, her voice shy and yet almost pleading.

  That was it. I was fumbling at the buttons on her blouse with trembling fingers even as Ginny was pulling her legs apart. She gave a little squeak and a giggle, but made no attempt to stop us. In moments her blouse was open and her bra pulled up over her little breasts as she lay on her back with her legs up, Ginny fumbling under her skirt for her panties.

  ‘Pull them off,’ Susan gasped, lifting her bottom obligingly so that Ginny could peel her pants down.

  Ginny took Susan’s knickers right off, raising her legs and then spreading them open when the little scrap of white cotton was no longer a hindrance. I leant down to kiss her, her tongue meeting mine as I put a hand to one breast. Susan’s arms folded around my neck as Ginny went down between her thighs. I could see the brown puff of hair on her belly out of the corner of my eye, mingled with golden hair as Ginny put her face to Susan’s fanny. She tensed and made a little choking sound in her throat and I knew she was being licked between her legs. Licked there for the first time and licked there by another girl.

  Even in my drunken state I could hardly believe how rude that was – to actually kiss another girl’s fanny – even though I’d fantasised about it often enough. Rude or not, I needed it myself, badly. I pulled back and knelt up rather unsteadily, watching Susan in her ecstasy as I struggled my panties off under my skirt. She lay there, clothing disarranged to show her fanny and titties, panties discarded to one side, an expression of utter bliss on her face. Ginny was kneeling between her legs, face buried between her friend’s thighs, gorgeous bottom stuck up invitingly. It was like a ball under her school skirt: round, girly and far too tempting to resist.

  I didn’t know whether to straddle Susan and present Ginny with my fanny to lick, or to strip Ginny’s bottom and bury my face between her thighs. For that matter, I could sit on Susan’s pretty face and wriggle myself against her mouth until she started to lick. It was all too much; like having a huge box of chocolates and only being able to eat one.

  Being a bossy little minx, what I did was take a firm hold on Ginny’s waist and haul her round so that she was straddling Susan’s face. She gave a half-protesting squeak as her lips were pulled away from Susan’s fanny, but responded to my pressure and settled back to licking as soon as she had turned around. I moved to Susan’s head end, breathing hard. Ginny’s legs were splayed above Susan’s head, her skirt hanging so that all I could see of Susan was her hair. I took hold of Ginny’s skirt and pulled it up, revealing her panties stretched taut across her bottom, the material over her sex already sodden with juice. Susan’s eyes were locked on Ginny’s rear view, her arms curled up around her waist. My fingers moved to Ginny’s panties, pulling the gusset aside to reveal the dark gold of her fur – her sex lips moist and pink in the middle.

  Susan moaned at the sight, only to be shut up as Ginny let her thighs slip apart and gave her friend a mouthful of fanny. I watched Susan start to lick. Ginny’s panties were still held aside, and her bottom was spilling out around the taut edges of the material. Susan was licking Ginny’s clitoris, and the pink flesh of her vagina was moist and open in front of my face. It was more than I could resist and, before I’d even thought of what I was doing, my face was against the softness of Ginny’s bum and my tongue was working into the tight, fleshy hole of her sex. She tasted of girl – like my own fingers when I play with myself – her musky, feminine scent strong in my nostrils.

  Ginny must have stopped licking Susan because she had started to moan and gasp, and I realised that she was about to come in our faces. It was much quicker than I’d have been, but then she was being licked by both of us. When she came she grunted and then screamed, totally abandoned in her ecstasy. I could feel the muscle of her thighs and bottom move as she pushed herself hard into us, giving a final choking gasp an
d then subsiding to lie limp on top of Susan.

  I pulled back, my mouth full of the taste of my friend’s sex. I wanted more and I wanted my own orgasm, my opportunity for it becoming clear as Ginny rolled off Susan to lie panting on the ground. Susan tilted her head back and looked up at me, her eyes big and moist, her mouth slightly open. Her tongue flicked out in a clear invitation and I moved forward, straddling her face just as Ginny had done. Her tongue found my clitoris – a truly wonderful sensation.

  I sat up straight, squatting on my friend’s face as she licked me, my head swimming with drink and sex, the sky and the grey stone walls of the viaduct spinning around me. I was in a haze of pleasure, unbuttoning my blouse and shrugging it off, then my bra. The air was cool on my bare breasts as I felt their weight and stroked my nipples. I wanted to be naked when I came and quickly unzipped my skirt and pulled it up over my head. Susan kept licking, her tongue circling my clitty with a maddening rhythm that was taking me slowly towards my orgasm.

  After pulling off my socks and shoes I was stark naked; gloriously, utterly naked in the fresh air, caressing my breasts as the familiar spasms began in the muscles around my vagina. Ginny had sat up and was watching us, smiling at my uninhibited pleasure. I held my tits out to her, a wanton gesture that I hoped she wouldn’t resist. She didn’t, and crawled round behind me, taking a breast in each hand, stroking my nipples as I had been doing. That left my hands free, and so I edged forward, directing Susan’s tongue to my hole and spreading my sex-lips with my fingers to get at my clitoris and start the little flicking motions that I always use to bring myself off.

  I’ll never forget that moment. The rich scent of sex mingled with the earthy smells of the moor and woods; Susan’s tongue in my vagina and Ginny’s fingers on my nipples; the air moving against my body, sensations of tension and burning in my muscles; the dizziness of drink mixed with the dizziness of approaching orgasm. I called out when I came, my vision going red as my climax exploded in my head, my balance slipping and only Ginny’s arms stopping me from collapsing.

  Then it was over, and my desperate need had been replaced with a sense of absolute fulfilment. I had no regrets, no guilt, no sadness – none of the things we are taught to believe should come with sex, particularly sex that involves tasting forbidden fruit. Well, I had tasted and eaten, and savoured every morsel.

  Ginny and I hugged and then turned our attention to making Susan come. She was lying on her back masturbating, eyes shut, clearly intent on reaching orgasm. I cradled her head; her mouth opened eagerly under mine as our tongues met. Ginny was caressing Susan’s breasts, leaving her to rub herself so that she could get it just right. From the pressure of her mouth against mine and the desperate passion of her kiss I could tell it wouldn’t be long until she came.

  I was wrong; she didn’t come. Instead, she pulled away after a good few minutes of trying to get it right. I sat back, expecting her to say she couldn’t make it. She was looking right at me with a curious pleading expression.

  ‘Punish me, please,’ was what she said, her voice shy and quiet.

  ‘Punish you?’ Ginny echoed. ‘How do you mean?’

  I knew exactly what she meant, and the idea excited me even though I’d just come.

  ‘Tie me up and spank my bottom,’ Susan said, blushing at what she was asking for despite the state she was in.

  ‘OK,’ Ginny answered, still sounding a bit puzzled, but with her normal enthusiasm.

  ‘Do you want us to pretend you’ve been naughty?’ I asked, hoping that I’d understood her fantasy.

  ‘I have been. I’ve just let my knickers off for you,’ Susan answered.

  ‘That’s true,’ I replied. ‘And licked us both between our legs. You certainly deserve a spanking.’

  ‘Yes, please,’ she sighed, making Ginny giggle.

  Even in my drunken state I realised that Susan probably had some detailed fantasy in mind.

  ‘How would you like it?’ I asked.

  ‘Over your knees,’ she answered, starting to play with herself again as her fantasy built up. ‘And call me names, and make me cry, please, Amber. Be prefects and punish me. I wish we got spanked at school, with our pants down and our bums all bare so everyone could see, oh I wish we did.’

  She was rambling a bit and must have been even more drunk than Ginny and I, but she was also really turning me on. Ginny was sniggering and had the bright-eyed, mischievous look I knew so well. If she didn’t really understand Susan’s fantasy, then she was obviously prepared to join in for the fun of it.

  ‘Shall we spank the little brat then?’ I asked Ginny.

  ‘Yes let’s,’ she answered eagerly. ‘Roll her over on to her tummy.’

  ‘Hang on,’ I interrupted. ‘Let’s do it her way. Put your pants back on, Susan.’

  She obeyed, hastily retrieving her knickers and putting them back on, then sitting down looking up at us. As Ginny was fully dressed, she looked every inch the commanding school prefect which, of course, she was. Tall, with her big breasts pushing her blouse out and her golden hair arranged around her shoulders, she almost had me wanting to go down on my knees with Susan and have my own bottom smacked. I was still in the nude and so didn’t look so tough, but I was enjoying being naked and didn’t want to dress. I also wanted to watch Ginny beat Susan before having my own go, and I wanted to be in control.

  ‘Right,’ I began, addressing Susan who was kneeling on the ground with her hands folded in her lap, her blouse still open and her titties bare. ‘Wren, you dirty little tramp, we’re going to punish you. Get on all fours.’

  She bent forward into a crawling position, looking up at me and trembling.

  ‘Face to the ground, bottom up,’ I snapped, my voice rising as I warmed to the task. ‘You’re a filthy tramp aren’t you, Wren? Masturbating out here where you thought you wouldn’t get caught; lying there with your tits showing and your fingers in your fanny. You’re disgusting! Well, I hope you enjoy having your fanny bare because you’re going to be showing it while you’re beaten. Take your pants down, now!’

  Susan reached back and pulled up her skirt, exposing the seat of her knickers and the outline of her bottom inside them. She was trembling hard and her eyes looked moist as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties. Ginny reached down and planted a hard smack across Susan’s thighs, making her yelp and producing a red handprint.

  ‘I told you to pull your pants down!’ I yelled as Susan hesitated.

  She obeyed, easing them down over her bottom, revealing the crease of her bum and the little nest of fur around her sex, and settling them around her thighs. It looked gorgeous, with the lips of her vulva pouting out from between her thighs and the darker spot of her anus showing, wrinkled and exquisitely rude.

  ‘Do you feel like masturbating now, you slut?’ I continued. ‘Your bottom’s bare; that’s what you like, isn’t it? Only it’s not so funny when you’re about to be beaten, is it? Do you realise you’re showing your bottom-hole off to us, you little tart?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Oakley,’ she answered in a beautifully chastened voice.

  ‘Oakley?’ another voice cut in, and it wasn’t Ginny’s.

  It couldn’t have been a bigger shock if the viaduct had collapsed underneath us. We had been completely lost to the outside world; invisible but unfortunately not inaudible. The voice that had interrupted us was loud, authoritative and had a mild Scots accent. It was Miss Campbell.

  We couldn’t have been caught more red-handed if we’d tried. Susan had her bum towards the gym mistress: skirt up, pants down and cheeks so open that the view she was giving was just as rude as it could possibly be. I made a clumsy attempt to cover my boobs and pussy, but goodness knows why. Ginny just stood there, looking pathetic with one finger in her mouth.

  I am not sure for how long we just looked at each other, but it seemed like forever. Finally Susan broke the spell by scrambling to her feet and trying to pull her panties up at the same time. Inevitably she ended u
p sitting on her bottom. She was blushing furiously, as was Ginny, and I could feel the hot flush in my own cheeks.

  ‘I think you had better put your clothes on, Oakley,’ Miss Campbell said.

  She was trying to be icy and authoritative, but it didn’t quite work. Since she had tried to seduce me she had treated me with cautious respect, aware that if I was pushed I might just complain. It would have been my word against hers, true, but mud sticks – especially that sort of mud. She had obviously assumed that I simply wasn’t interested in sex. Now she knew I was.

  All this went through my mind as the initial shock of being caught subsided. Lesbianism was the sort of thing that normally got girls expelled. True, crushes and minor encounters got ignored, but this was heavy – far too heavy for Miss Campbell to turn a blind eye to. On the other hand I was in a position to at least make her life difficult, and if she’d made a pass at me, there were sure to be other girls as well. Not Ginny or Susan, though, and so if anyone had a chance of talking us out of the fix we were in it was me.

  Susan must have realised this immediately because she was looking up at me with pleading eyes and a shamefaced expression while she toyed nervously with a piece of twig. Ginny was a bit less quick and began to stammer an apology.

  ‘Shh Ginny,’ I said, reaching out to place a soothing hand on her shoulder. ‘Could we talk please, Miss Campbell?’

  Miss Campbell nodded and the three of them waited while I dressed. I took as long as I dared, thinking what to do. There were three options: give in to fate, blackmail or seduction. I have never been fatalistic; there’s just too much obstinacy in me. I didn’t like the idea of blackmail, either; not only was it wrong, but the complications would be endless. That left seduction and, if at the end of the day I ended up as Miss Campbell’s little plaything for the rest of term, then it was better than expulsion. Besides, it wasn’t as if I hadn’t been fantasising over exactly that for the last few weeks.