Amber could feel an orgasm building. She always came so hard when Frank was fucking her in the ass.
“Oh my God, baby, I'm going to come! Keep fucking my ass just like that baby I'm going to fucking come!”
Frank thrust into her as she came, he coming as well. When they were finished they collapsed in opposite directions. Damion cleaned up and got dressed and headed for his car. Amber and Frank fell asleep in each others arms.
“So what did you think?” Amber asked Frank. It was later in the evening and they were having a candle lit dinner with wine.
“I think it was interesting to say the least,” Frank said. “I mean, I don't know if I would seek it out or anything, but I also don't know if I'd turn it down. So I guess I learned something about myself I didn't know before, and that's the whole point, isn't it.”
Amber raised her glass and toasted him. It was cool to be able to see some things come together. They weren't sure yet if they wanted to have Damion over again, but the option was on the table if they wanted to seize hold of it. Right now all either of them wanted to do was lay in bed. They were sipping wine and talking, but the sexual encounter had really taken it out of them.
“How are you feeling?” Frank asked. “I only ask because I, myself, am pretty much beat. I haven't been this tired in a very long time. I was just wondering how you were holding up over there. You don't seem to give a whole lot away.”
“Oh, I'm doing fine,” Amber said. “I had a lot of fun and I love you for being open minded and doing that with me. I liked it a lot and maybe some day I'll want to do it again, but I'm not sure when that will be. I mean, if you want we could swap or whatever, I'm just saying that if you aren't super into it you don't have to keep fucking guys because I want you to or anything like that.”
“It's nothing like that at all,” Frank said. “The whole exploring my curiosity is completely me just really wanting to explore my sexuality. You know how I am about things—I don't want to knock anything until I've tried it and I don't feel like I've really given it an honest go until I've done it about a dozen times.”
They both laughed at this. They were eating some lamb that Frank had prepared. Amber wasn't sure how Frank knew to cook some of the things he cooked, but she knew that she really enjoyed it when it came together. There were times when things didn't go so well and Amber would have to soldier on through a meal because things were so fucked up, but that hadn't happened in awhile.
“What do you think we should do next?” Frank asked. “I mean, is there a specific agenda, or are we just playing by ear?”
“Well right now we're just playing by ear,” Amber said. “I don't want it to seem forced at all, or to be something that we both don't enjoy and get a lot out of. I know that there are some things that I want to try, and I know there are somethings you want to try, and some of those things probably involve me just like mine do for yours, so I don't see a game plan really being that advantageous. Do you?”
Frank took a big bite of lamb and thought for a little while before speaking.
“You know,” he started. “For some things I think that it would probably be best to have some kind of plan. I'm not trying to come off as some kind of neurotic asshole about it, but if we had some kind of thought process for some of our adventures I just think that they would go a lot better, where as with others I think that trying to figure out what will happen before it happens is a really bad idea. I like the idea of things happening organically, but like today, sometimes that isn't so possible. So we sacrificed a little bit of what our ideal situation would be and we still had a lot of fun. But maybe in the future we'd find that we allowed to much to go unchecked. Or something like that. I don't know. These kind of things are hard to speculate about sometimes.”
Over the course of the next few years they kept experimenting with their sexuality. It didn't go as they thought. Both of them had envisioned some kind of slow and steady progression, but after a few sexual experiences they both realized that what they were looking for was a kind of intimacy that they figured would be easiest to find with another couple. While they looked for another couple they would have Damion over on occasion to play with, but it was never as fun like it had been the first time. There was just something missing anytime they planned it out. Sure, it was still fun and everyone still got off, but so much of what made it really fun was how it happened out of nowhere and sometimes the people doing it weren't even ready for it.
But there were other times when planning, as Frank put it, did help out. Like when Amber decided that she wanted to fuck some of her friends. It helped that she talked about it with Frank so they could coordinate their flirting in real life and over social media to get the women they wanted in bed. Really, in all actuality, the sex was the fun part but what really brought them closer together as a couple was sharing fantasies and trying to plan out the spontaneity without losing anything. One day they had Damion over for what they thought would be the last time before they started seriously trying to date another couple.
“Damion,” Amber begged. “Please fuck my ass. I want you to. I know you want to fuck my pussy but I really want you to fuck my ass. Just hear me out.”
“If this is the last time then I have to get some of that pussy and we both know that if I fuck your ass first then I'm not going to be getting any of that pussy. Because that's just not how you're supposed to do it. I think everyone has seen the Clerks movie where they talk about it.”
This comment brought chuckles from everyone.
“All right, all right, fuck my pussy already,” Amber said trying to sound like she was irritated.
Damion didn't need to be told twice. Spitting on the head of his throbbing shaft he slowly worked it up and down Amber's pussy lips until he thought he'd turned her on enough where he could ease into her. Sometimes she liked having to work it into her pussy though, and so did Damion. Amber couldn't believe that this might actually be one of the last times that she would be able to enjoy Damion's cock.
“Oh, Damion,” she said. “You're fucking dick feels so good. God damn it, why can't I just keep fucking you while we date this other couple?! I love how your fucking rock hard Latin cock throbs in my pussy, hitting all the right spots. God, please never stop fucking me. I love how your fucking cock feels in my pussy. You motherfucker. Just keep fucking me you fucking motherfucker.”
With that Amber came, and she shouted as she climaxed. Sometimes she did that, the whole coming dramatically thing. It wasn't that anyone minded, it was just that other times she did the exact opposite and would come all quiet like, like she wasn't supposed to make a peep as an orgasm rocked her body harder than it had in a long time.
And that ended up being the last time. Damion didn't come over anymore after that and they didn't go over to his place. The new couple they started seeing ended up being a good fit and everyone not only got along well but fucked well together. So Amber and Frank explored their sexualities every way they could think of in that group setting. It was fun and exciting, but there was always a little part of Amber that wished that she could still fuck Damion. There was something about that rock hard Latin cock that was hard to duplicate. And sometimes, when she really really missed his cock, she'd put Ice, Ice, Baby on the stereo and fuck to it while sharing the occasional wink with Frank. All and all it brought them closer together, this much they both agreed on, but they also thought that for some couples swinging like they did, or at lest their limited version of it, would not work for all couples. Too many couples had that one thing, or things, that would set them off and sent them spiraling into some frenzy of emotion that not only didn't look good, but that no one wanted to deal with. It really did test the relationship, saw if there was any jealous contained there in.
Then, one day years later, Damion say Amber and Frank eating at a diner by the docks. He joined them for a while, and they chatted about this and that. Finally they went for a walk down by the beach, and eventually they all ended up fucking on the sand
while the waves lapped their toes. It was one of those moments that seemed like something out of a dream. After they left and went back home Frank even wondered aloud if maybe it had been a dream. Amber knew it hadn't been, though, no matter how otherworldly good it had been. She knew that somehow, someway, she and Damion shared a connection. Damion was the spice that had ignited Frank and her's life together. It turned out all they had needed was just some spice, just a little spice, to set things off. And now that things were the way they were Frank had proposed and she'd said yes. They'd never been happier. And they owed it all to Vanilla Ice and his concert in the mall. Or at least that's what Frank would tell her whenever she would miss Damion. Years later, when they were both old, she would try to track down Damion just to talk to him only to find that he had disappeared back to his country south of the border. She was never able to locate or speak with him again. Frank and her always thought fondly back on their time with him, and in their old age wished they could call him up for a chat about the good old days when everyone was too horny to control themselves.
THE END
Colorado Calling
“Oak Ridge, Colorado Territory. Next stop, ladies and gentleman, is Oak Ridge, Colorado Territory.”
Louisa Forest awoke, startled by the sound of the conductor’s voice as he walked through the rattling car. It had been a small miracle that she’d slept at all; the three day trip from Baltimore that had begun with so much hope had become increasingly exhausting as she found the shaking movements kept her awake through the empty plains of Iowa and Nebraska. It was all so disorienting as well. She had grown accustomed to city life, with its close quarters and settled horizon. There were always people around that she had known for her entire life. But as the train had shuttled across the country, everything familiar had fallen away beyond the Appalachians.
She looked down at her rumpled travel clothes with some distress. The pretty blue dress had gathered a fair share of dust from the travels, despite the pleasantly ornate Pullman car. Her beau had purchased her a good ticket, and for that she was grateful. However, as the days had wound onward, the soot that blew back from the engine had seemingly gotten into everything. She wasn’t sure how she was to maintain any mystery and attractiveness in such an environment.
Louisa pulled a hand mirror from her bag. She noticed she wasn’t the only one doing so; it seemed a few other unaccompanied women had the same destination on their ticket. She wasn’t surprised. It had been her friend Rebecca who had suggested she put a correspondence ad in the magazine, in hopes of finding a worthwhile man in the West. None of her suitors in Baltimore had been worthwhile, mostly gamblers and drinkers. Not that the same couldn’t be said in unsettled parts of the country, naturally, and Louisa had no illusions that life would be perfect or even better here.
However, she did have hope. There were good reasons to leave Maryland, as she recalled them. Rebecca had been just about the only one still talking to her after she and her family had supported the Union. When she had been a young teen, there had been at least one night of pure terror when a small mob had demanded her father come out and face them. Windows had been smashed, the police had turned out to just in time to chase the rioters away from burning down her tenement.
The friendly, neighborhood faces that she had known all her life, the butcher, the newspaper seller, the neighbors, had one by one gone cold as they associated the Forests with the “tyrant” Lincoln. Maryland had stayed loyal to the cause, but some parts of the state such as Baltimore were firmly set in Confederate sympathies. Only a handful of like-minded or forgiving neighbors had taken the Forest’s part when their son Donald had signed up to join the Union cause. When Donald returned in a box from Chancellorsville, her mother had died of a broken heart. The war ended, and she recalled sitting at the kitchen table with her father.
“A blacksmith must work, dear one.” He’d explained, his face looking pained. “I have a brother in Ohio who would be happy to take us in, and you could stay with family there. It is improper you have stayed on with me alone as long as you have. Were it not for the war, I’d have sent you on long ago.”
“I could not leave you alone here, father.” She had answered, fearing his suggestions.
“Yes, but you are a grown woman. It is perhaps time you make your own way in the world. If you wish to go with me to Ohio, I will be winding down my affairs here by the fall, October at the latest. If you wish to find a husband between now and then so that you may stay in Baltimore-”
“I have no love for this city left.” She had spat out. He smiled at her words, and she continued. “But I will see what I can do. I don’t wish to be a burden and, truth be told, I have grown lonely.”
Heading out into the plains in late September of 1965, she had her doubts about this wild place. The territory had just completed a mini-war of its own from what she’d read, the “Colorado War” between Kiowa, Cheyenne, Arapaho, and Comanche tribes and the white settlers. Though she was herself a settler, she felt sympathy for their cause. No one had invited people like herself to come to the west and claim these lands. It would have, perhaps, been more conducive to a civil society if folks like herself stayed East.
She reflected on these thoughts as she gazed out the window onto the eastern plains of Colorado, with her first real glimpse of the Rocky Mountain range fast approaching. She felt a bit like an interloper, an adventurer who was seeking a new life among a quickly-shifting backdrop. On the positive side, she could start a whole new life here, create her own identity without any preconceptions from her old life.
On the negative, she was marrying a man she knew almost nothing about.
The pictures they had exchanged gave her some hope. She looked to her locket to see his face again. He seemed an ordinary sort with a youthful, handsome face. His large mustache obscured part of his face, and he parted his hair down the middle. Louisa hoped that he was as kind as his letters had made him seem.
All of that would be settled soon enough. She could see that a few ranch houses were now in view, signs that they were approaching the town. The engine was slowing, and she smiled as she thought of the possibilities.
Eventually, the train stopped and she let out a deep sigh of relief, glad to be leaving the rocking train behind her at last.
She stepped off the train and waited to see Thomas, the man she’d been corresponding with over the past few months. To her consternation, she couldn’t place him. But as she pulled her bags off the train and waited, a trio of people approached. They included an older man, a young man around Thomas’s age, and a similarly young red-haired woman.
“Pardon me, ma’am.” The young man began. He had a brown mustache that somewhat resembled her Thomas. “We might be wrong, but would you be Miss Louisa Forest of Baltimore, Maryland?”
“That is I.” She confirmed, feeling uncomfortable. “I had hoped to meet Mr. Thomas Bradford here.”
“My brother.” The man said, and by his tone, she sensed she was about to receive some bad news. She wasn’t disappointed. “I’m sorry, there was no way to give you warning. Thomas died two days ago.”
###
“You’ve all been so kind to me. I couldn’t eat another bite.” Louisa said, pushing away her plate.
Louisa had been invited to the Bradford home after the initial shock of the discovery. She was trying to be as polite as possible with the traumatized family. Though she too had suffered a loss of sorts, she had only known the man through his letters. She felt she had no right to grieve.
The older man, Jim, pushed away from the table as well. “Another wonderful meal, Ann. You’ve done well.”
“Thank you, uncle.” She kept her head down, her expression difficult to read. The other in their quartet, Jeb Bradford, had said little as well, leaving Jim to handle virtually all of the social interaction with their guest.
She felt as though she were intruding on their grief, and after clearing her throat, offered a thought. “You have been so generous, but I
must ask one more favor. Before it becomes dark, would you be so kind as to find me a boarding house for women of good character? I am so new here-”
“No, no.” Big Jim Bradford insisted, brushing his huge white beard. “We won’t hear of it. You’ll stay here as long as you please. No debate on that, now.”
“I have no desire to impose on your good nature.” She insisted.
“You’re new to the West, Miss Louisa. It wouldn’t be proper for us to allow you to do such a thing, not right away at least. Please do us this kindness.”
She nodded. “As you say, then. I’m ever so grateful.”
As Ann got up to clear away the table, Louisa joined her. Though her hostess tried to stop her, Louisa explained, “I don’t mind being a guest, but if you’ll allow me to be of some use it’d be very fine with me. I’ve been cooped up on a train for so long, a touch of work would be welcome.”
Ann consented and they took the dishes for washing up. As Louisa dried and Ann washed, she thought it best to say as little as possible. It was Ann who broke the silence.
“It’s been peaceful here for a long time. The war passed us by, praise God.” Ann said quietly.
“That’s good.” Louisa suggested.
“Yes, it was. But it couldn’t last, of course. Nothing good ever does.” Ann bitterly complained.
ROMANCE: CLEAN ROMANCE: Summer Splash! (Sweet Inspirational Contemporary Romance) (New Adult Clean Fantasy Short Stories) Page 116