Sweet petite Amber, a 28-year-old Caucasian female, graduated from college two years ago with a bachelor's degree in marketing. Works for a prestigious downtown Chicago import/export firm. She is a 5-foot-8-inch slim build with C-size, ice cream-cone-looking breasts. She has long blonde hair that she never cuts and only occasionally trims because of a promise to her loving father, who passed away from COPD/smoking when she was 15. He always told her that being different was valuable; at that time, the style for most women was short hair. So, she promised him that as she entered puberty, she would never cut her hair and always keep it blonde, even though it did tone down to dishwater over the years.
All her Jr and high school friends encouraged her to cut her hair or dye it another color, you know, be like them; at first, when she told them of the promise to her father, they accepted it, but some of them would get downright angry over time. She never understood why.
When she asked him, her father told her, "Long blonde-haired women for two reasons are disliked: envy and Jealousy.' 'I cannot begin to tell you the trouble your mother went through for it; she eventually dyed and cut her beautiful blonde hair."
Amber loved her mom, but Dad was right; she cared about what others thought a little too much for her taste. She decided she would never be bullied by popular opinion, for her long hair was now a symbol of rebel independence and a sense of identity.
Saturday night at the club
Amber always got extremely horny just before her monthly cycle started, thus never would go out with the girls to a bar during these times, so she wouldn't get into trouble, not being able to say no to a guy catching her eye.
This Saturday night was different; she celebrated Dawn's new promotion with some good friends. She dressed in a short loose red skirt and white button-down blouse with a lacy red bra and white lacy bikini panties underneath; however, she didn't meet anyone she liked. She had a good time but drank a little too much.
Her best friend Kathy, the girl's designated driver for the night, took her home.
At around 2 am, she staggered to her front door. She fumbled through her purse, looking for the keys she unknowingly dropped in her girlfriend's car. She kicked the locked door a few times before heading to the side of the house to find where her emergency key was hidden but was too drunk to find it. Returning to the curb to see if her friend Kathy was still there; however, she had just driven off.
Amber lived in a condominium in the High Ridge Park suburb of Chicago. But with no way in, she had no one to turn to except her 50-year-old black neighbor. He lived right across the street from her in his duplex.
She teased him accidentally a few times, walking around nude with the blinds open in her bedroom late at night, seeing him upstairs across the street. He always left the curtains and blinds open so that he could watch her, so she gave him an eye full.
His house was situated, so his upstairs bedroom window was viewable from her bedroom, which was at the side of her Condo, with shrubs and trees surrounding the front; only through his window could you see into her room.
She knew it was a stupid game, but it made her feel sexy that someone went out of his way to watch her. She did have a little exhibitionist in her, she guessed.
He worked in the evenings but was always home by 9 pm.
She would shower simultaneously, walking out naked, ensuring he could see. Then after getting her pajamas on, she read a book before falling asleep.
They had been neighbors for a few years, and she had never seen any women or kids around his place.
A woman knows when a man is looking. The blinds being open started six months ago; she had just gotten out of the shower, looked out her window, and up at his; the blinds pulled open, but she could not see him. However, the evidence was there.
Amber was so busy with the firm that she never had anyone around her for very long; the only life outside the company was her four girlfriends.
They met at the mailbox a few times; that's how they knew each other's names. Other than that, nothing happened. You know how it is; he was just an older man who lived in the neighborhood.
Amber knocked on his door after a minute or two.
He asked, "Who is it? Looking through the keyhole, Amber, is that you?" He opened the door. "You need some help; is something wrong?" His voice was husky, just waking up from sleep.
"Yes, please." She slurred back.
He opened the door, "Come right on in."
She staggered in, flopping down on the couch and falling fast asleep.
James Johnston is a 6 foot 4-inch, 52-year-old black man from Sandusky, Ohio, raised in a dusty old neighborhood. He is the father of two children and divorced from a drug addict wife who had just passed away. He told himself he was done with relationships; he liked women but found them difficult to understand. James supervises a Chicago Advertising Agency in the suburb of Wilmette.
He only went out a little but was interested in home building and landscaping in his spare time. His house, everything kept in good appearance.
He got a small blanket, removed her coat and shoes, covered her up, and went back to bed.
Sunday Morning at 0800, Amber woke up on the couch in her black neighbor's house with a splitting headache. She thought to herself, "Where am I."
She smelled bacon, eggs, and coffee from a strange hallway kitchen. Then she remembered going over to James's house last night, moving the covers, seeing she still had on her clothes; he hadn't taken advantage of her.
Then James came from the kitchen with breakfast and coffee on a tray, saying, "Good morning."
Amber said, "Thanks for the help!"
"It was no problem at all." Replied with a smile, looking into her beautiful green eyes.
"I. ---- I -- owe you one." She said, "I was so woozy last night I could hardly walk.' 'Could I use your bathroom, please?"
"Of course," he replied.
While Amber used the potty, she noticed James's house was well kept and clean; she thought for a single man.
When she came out, James asked, "Would you like to join me for coffee? It looks like you could use a cup or two?"
Amber knew she needed the coffee, but should she share it with her old black neighbor? Then she thought, "Oh silly, he cared for you all night and prepared breakfast; it's the least you could do."
"Sure," Amber replied.
She didn't like older men and never really considered black men either, not seeing him sexually at all, but subconsciously she did flash him at night in a tease, she thought.
He was not much of a talker, making her start with small talk to move things along. After a sip or two of coffee, she asked, "You have kids?"
"Yes, a boy and girl who live in other states; my son couldn't turn down a job in New York.' 'And my daughter got married moving to Atlanta. My wife passed away, but if you don't mind, I would rather not say how."
Amber remained quiet.
"So, tell me about yourself, little lady."
Amber told him her whole life story; after a half-hour, she said, "Well, I'd better go; thanks for the coffee and breakfast; I feel much better now."
James had his robe and pajamas on and enjoyed the conversation with Amber; hearing some of her childhood stories and college days reminded him of younger days he missed.
Amber stood, attempting to put on the high heels she wore from the bar; she stumbled over her feet; her short red skirt popped up; you could see her white bikini panties; she fell right into his lap with his robe open to the side.
Suddenly Amber felt a huge boner grow up between her butt, pussy, and inner thighs; she said, "Whoops, I am so sorry," moving up but not too fast, as she had never felt such a lump before. She had sat in men's laps, but they never poked up into her thighs like that.
She stood there, noticing a bulge in his pajama bottoms, which happened so quickly that it stunned him. He hadn't had sex in quite some time, so to have a vagina so close was thrilling.
Not thinking, he pulled out his dick from the leg of his pajamas; as it quickly grew long and thick, it was about to pinch off his blood supply; he needed to adjust it, then remembered she was standing there. He pulled his robe over his dick to cover it.
