Amber's place

There was something strangely compelling about industrial safety videos. Reese wasn't even editing the gory, over-the-top stuff that inevitably found its way into "Top 10 Traumatizing Workplace Injuries" compilations on YouTube or whatever; they were just editing the b-roll shots of a factory -- OSHA-compliant guardrails, smoke pouring from ominous towers, machinery that seemed to operate just fine on its own... Reese frequently found themself arranging footage of dead worlds, worlds where humanity had collectively absconded to the air, to the shadows, and now iron and concrete and rebar were the only suggestions they'd ever been there.

Whatever. What a load of pretentious nonsense.

The important thing was that Reese had, through sheer willpower, steamrolled through some vital footage, had stitched together some genuinely impressive transition shots, had fixed some audio issues in the raw footage... the rest they could do tomorrow. It wasn't due for a few more days anyway, and they estimated that they were now about 40% done. That was 40% more than they'd had when they stepped into Heirloom.

They'd already consumed the coffee. The caffeine was there, regardless of how they put it to work.

The guardrails wouldn't suggest books to them.

It was a little after 11:00, about two hours since Amber got off work.

"Hi!" Reese texted. "Just wanted to let you know I got a lot of work done. Do you still want to hang out? We don't have to."

They put their phone aside, studied a shot on the monitor of a forklift sitting idle on a factory floor.

Bzz. Bzz. The light from the phone reflected off the surface of the desk.

"Hey!" read the text. "I do! Hold on." Three ellipses... ellipses... ellipses... and then Amber's address appeared.

It was like caffeine flooding their body.

---

It was around 11:40 by the time Reese showed up. It'd taken a while to save everything, get the house locked down, find a safe parking spot... but now they were here, standing in front of a modest apartment building, waiting to be buzzed in.

There wasn't very much light pollution here. Dark clouds moved across the sky. The stars were visible past the clouds and moon. Everything was still.

The door suddenly swung open.

"Hi!" There was Amber, no longer clad in button up and apron. She'd switched them out for a dark green t-shirt, dark blue denim shorts, and flip-flops. Her hair was still in the chignon. "Come in."

Reese stepped inside.

As they climbed the stairs to Amber's apartment -- she lived on the second floor -- she asked them, "So how's work going?"

"Good. I'm honestly surprised by how much I got done in one sitting."

"Yeah?" Upon reaching the second story landing they entered a doorway to a hall. "That's the power of coffee, I guess." Her smile was warm. Easy.

She led them to her apartment, at the far end of the hall. "Go ahead," she said, opening the door. Reese stepped inside and when Amber entered after her she shut and locked the door.

Reese immediately felt welcome.

The first thing they noticed was the sheer number of books on display: stacks and stacks on the floor, piled by an old recliner she'd clearly salvaged, with titles like Autobiography of Red, Record of a Night Too Brief, and Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World. A dog-eared copy of To the Lighthouse sat precariously close to the edge of the coffee table, joined by a handmade coffee mug suspiciously similar to the kind used at Heirloom. A copy of Atwood's The Blind Assassin was splayed out on the couch; Amber had clearly been reading it before Reese arrived.

There were movies, too, and lots of them: classics like Taxi Driver and Bicycle Thieves and La dolce vita lined the shelves of the display sitting beside her modest television, wedged up against lesser-known films like Faces and Shadows and Onibaba, arthouse movies like Upstream Color and Dancer in the Dark, and a few with titles like Elephant and Love Is the Devil.

Reese admired all of this, took in the sheer breadth of media on display, even the vinyl albums lining the bottom of the display case -- Extraordinary Machine, Hounds of Love, Heaven or Las Vegas...

Reese loved media nerds. They were one; why else would they do what they do? It suddenly occurred to them that they should show Amber their own collections sometime.

"Sorry, it's kind of a mess," Amber said, although she didn't seem overly concerned with whether or not Reese approved.

"Nah, it's fine," Reese said, "my place looks like this a lot of the time."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Especially if I have time off to actually, like, read. Or watch movies."

"Read anything lately?" Amber was heading toward her kitchen. "Please, sit down, by the way."

Reese sat beside The Blind Assassin. "Umm... actually, I'm working my way through The Magic Mountain."

"Thomas Mann?"

"Mmhmm."

"Der Zauberberg," Amber said definitively as she brought a pair of rocks glasses to the coffee table. "The German title sounds so much cooler. Less like a... Disney ride."

"True." Reese scooted over as Amber sat beside them. They could feel her warmth. It was...

"I'm sorry," Amber said. She looked annoyed with herself. She was blushing. "I fucking suck at making small talk."

"No, it's okay!"

"Eh. Meh. Oh -- this is gin, by the way. I hope you like gin."

"I do."

"Good." Amber handed Reese a glass. "Umm..."

"Yeah?"

"So... you like Soseki?"

"I do. I went through a period where I read a lot of the Japanese classics..."

And so the conversation went, this discussion of books, of authors and trends in literature, each giving the other a glowing recommendation (Amber: The Housewife and the Professor; Reese: Demian).

---

"So, umm..." Then another silence.

Reese was worried Amber was getting bored.

"Yeah?" Reese's voice was soft.

The pair had sort of... bunched against each on the couch over the course of their conversation, knees touching, arms dangerously close; that they were on the precipice of actually touching was driving Reese crazy. It was a weird, manic anxiety, a caffeine-like high.

God, she was cute.

Amber played with one of her bangs. "Do you wanna..." She blushed. "Fool around?"

Wow. That goofy smile crept back across Reese's lips. "Umm... do you?"

Amber chewed her lower lip. "Yeah, I do." She looked off to the side, as if she'd find someone holding a cue card that would give her exactly the right words to say. "Look, I think you're really cute, and even if it's just, like, for tonight I wanna have fun with you."

"Yeah?" Reese subconsciously leaned closer.

"Yeah." Amber teased the sleeve of Reese's flannel shirt with the tips of her fingers. "I do."

"Me too."

They fell upon each other at the far end of the couch. Amber's lips tasted of juniper and coffee...

---

Reese loved the way Amber sighed as they kissed her neck, her collarbone, the underside of her chin, the way her hands explored their body, dipped beneath their shirt, stroked their chest... loved the way she backed away, flushed, and peeled herself off of the couch as she declared, "Fuck it, I'm getting naked."

True to her word, Amber tore off her shirt and threw it on the floor. With her back turned to Reese she removed her shorts, revealing her firm, shapely rear. She was wearing a black g-string (the second one Reese had seen in two days, and suddenly they hoped this would be a theme for the rest of the week) that disappeared between the generous swells of her buttocks, which jiggled softly as she stepped over her clothes so she didn't trip. She sighed as she stretched one arm over her head and turned.

Her left nipple was pierced. A little stud poked through the dainty brown nub. It was cute. Amber's breasts were small, but Reese wasn't one to care about things like that. Her chest was cute, and Reese admired the little adornment she wore, and they couldn't help but betray a silly, stupid smile at the site of their nearly nude companion.

Amber didn't sit down; she bent and leaned into Reese, kissing them, pushing them down, down onto the couch until she was nearly on top. The Blind Assassin was teetering near the edge. "Wait a sec," Amber said, before crawling forward a little and grabbing the book, then placing it on the coffee table. Reese was fully capable of doing this themself, but they suspected Amber wanted them to watch her do it.

"Better," Amber said, before pressing her lips to Reese's in a ferocious kiss. They moaned into each other's lips, caught up in the moment, and when they finally parted Reese nearly ached with longing.

Amber was quiet for a second. She was on her knees, hands resting in her lap. "Can I say something weird?"

"Shoot." Reese was acutely aware of the painful throbbing in their crotch.

"I don't want to... like... fuck. At least, umm, maybe not in the way you were... expecting."

"Okay... then what do you want to do?" it wasn't accusatory, the way Reese asked it; exploratory, more than anything.

"I have this thing," Amber began, "this... okay, so I like to... I want..." She sighed. "Okay. So. I wanna suck your dick."

"Oh! Umm..." Reese blushed. "I mean... yeah, I'd be cool with that." They paused. "Sorry, that was a really dumb way to respond."

"It's okay," Amber said. She didn't seem to be paying attention. She pressed herself against her supine companion with one hand, and with the other she began to work their fly. Once their boxers were exposed Amber helped Reese shimmy out of their pants, then tossed them to the floor to join her own discarded clothing. "Better," she purred, as she ran her flat palm along Reese's crotch. Now that their jeans were discarded Reese's responses to Amber's touch were more obvious - -much to the latter's delight.

Reese grew hard in Amber's hand. So hard it hurt.

Amber helped Reese shimmy out of their boxers. She chewed her lower lip as Reese's cock sprang fully free, wobbling a little as it settled into place. Firmly at attention, betraying her own glee, Amber took it in her hands and stroked, and Reese couldn't help but gasp and shudder at her touch.

"Yeah?" Amber whispered.

Reese nodded. "Are you sure?"

Amber smiled softly and nodded. "Mmhmm..." She didn't need to say anything else, for she pressed her lips to Reese's shaft and began peppering it with kisses, then long, torturous licks up and down, up and down, up and down... Reese settled at the opposite end of the couch so they could both be more comfortable, and Amber took advantage of this by stretching out on her half, kicking her legs behind her, dangling them lazily back and forth, back and forth, as if she were licking a lollipop or something, but it was Reese in her hands and in her mouth, moaning softly at each new sensation.

Amber clearly loved this: she was looking up at Reese with those bright, shining eyes, mouth upturned in a smile despite what she was doing with it; not to mention the happy purring noises she made, especially when she brought them more fully into her mouth. Amber tried to take as much of Reese in her mouth as she could, never gagging, never making a sound that could be construed as belabored or even painful. But she would only deepthroat them a little, preferring to bob her head up and down the tip of their shaft, occasionally breaking away so she could cover their aching member in kisses and deliver teasing licks.

"I want your cum," she murmured, before dragging her tongue across the head of Reese's cock.

"Y-yeah?" Reese asked, stupidly.

"Mmhmm..." Amber was blushing, but she was also in control, and Reese loved that. "I do." She moaned sweetly into Reese's crotch as she took the entirety of their length in her throat, and when she pulled away there was a faint _pop_ping sound. Amber planted a teasing kiss on one of Reese's balls. Then she dragged her tongue along the underside of the shaft, and when she got to the tip she took it back in her mouth.

It didn't take long.

Reese gasped as they suddenly came, sending torrents of semen into Amber's waiting mouth. She gasped, too, obviously delighted by her "reward," which she eagerly swallowed, careful not to let too much dribble from her lips. A little trail did work its way down her chin, but she caught it and wiped it away. She let Reese keep cumming and cumming until they finally, mercifully stopped, and when they went soft in her hand she sucked a little more, and when it was obvious that Reese was fully spent she lapped at the head for a second, catching a few stragglers.

Finally she pulled away and sat up. "Was that okay?" she asked, blushing.

"That was... amazing," Reese panted, melting into the couch.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Reese took Amber's hand in their own and guided her closer. "C'mere..."

---

Amber was loud. It was cute.

She rocked back and forth so hard Reese was worried the couch would give her knees rug burns. Reese could hear her ecstatic vocalizing even though their ears were fully surrounded by Amber's thighs. She was riding their face, gripping the top of the couch to keep herself steady, occasionally letting go so she could run her hand through her hair or wipe her brow, which was now dowsed with sweat.

"Yeah," she gasped, "yes...!"

By the time she'd crawled over Reese's face she was completely soaked, on the verge of cumming just from servicing Reese. It took just about as long for Amber as it did for Reese: within only a few minutes she was in the throes of orgasm, rocking back and forth as Reese ate her out, let them tease her clit with their tongue, let them push her orgasm to its limits, and when she couldn't take anymore she sort of... peeled off of them and collapsed onto the couch.

"Holy shit," Amber gasped, throwing her legs over Reese's lap, dangling her feet off the arm of the couch. "Fuck."

Reese was staring at the ceiling. "Was that okay?" It was a stupid question they found themself asking all the time.

"That was amazing," Amber purred, resting her hands on her stomach. She idly played with her nipple ring.

"Yeah?"

Amber sighed. "Yeah." She took a deep breath. "Damn."

There was silence for a minute.

"Wanna watch a movie?"

Reese smiled. "Sure."