Amber helps you feel at home.

With Amber’s help, you have great success (and a great time) furnishing your house. She stays the night (of course), then the two of you spend most of the next day shopping as well. You take her home after dinner and return to a house that looks like someone actually lives in it, with a king-size bed in the master bedroom that has already been well-christened. Amber even woke you up in the middle of the night with a blowjob. She claimed she couldn’t sleep because of a bad dream and needed a glass of warm cock to calm her nerves. You don’t know about the glass, but she certainly got the warm cock, and she did go right to sleep after taking your load down her throat.

At another point, during a lull in the action, you started talking about musicals. You were interested to discover that you have the same favorites—Les Misérables and Into the Woods—but she’s much fonder of Rodgers and Hammerstein than you are. When she said she especially likes The Sound of Music, you were struck by a moment of lunatic inspiration. “Your life, little girl, is an empty page that men will want to write on,” you sang. Amber looked at you in complete befuddlement. Then you continued, “Your tits, little girl, are a fruit of age that men will want to bite on,” which sent her into helpless laughter.

When she had regained some tenuous control of herself, she sang, “Fellows I meet will tell me I’m sweet, and willingly I believe.” Her tone was wobbling by the end, and she barely completed the line before bursting anew into laughter.

“Oh, you are sweet,” you drawled, reaching down into her pussy. Her senses overloaded with a startled, strangled gasp as you plunged a finger into her honeypot; you took a quick lick for yourself, then stuck your finger in her mouth. On reflex, her lips closed around your finger, and you drew it out. She licked her lips and you said smugly, “There, don’t you think?”

“Mmmm,” she murmured, “I do taste good.” Then she looked at you as if she couldn’t decide if she was turned on or ticked off and said, “But that was naughty, baby. That was very naughty. You need to apologize, or I’ll have to punish you for that”—and she pounced on you and began tickling.

That set the two of you rolling around in a wrestling match that ended with Amber once again on her back with her knees pulled up to her tits, and you once again lying on the backs of her thighs, relentlessly fucking her into the mattress. She came roaring through two orgasms in close succession before you had even come, then followed a third time when you blew your load into her. When you rolled off, she said (a little shakily), “Apology accepted,” then gave you a long, satisfied kiss.