I fantasised about her: sometimes her display was one of utter innocence, she was the oblivious schoolgirl to my perverted voyeur; more often it was a...deliberate display, and she watched me wank until my cock erupted and I spurted cum all over her in a depraved act of worship. Either way, it was really happening and was a massive turn-on; and balancing on the knife-edge only served to make the associated fantasies more exciting and the orgasms more powerful. Did Amber know the effect she was. She was wearing a t-shirt and tiny pair ofjeans over her equally tiny legs, her chin-length hair was pulled backin a messy ponytail, and she looked equally likely to produce some sappysong or a smart-ass remark.Instead she grinned at me for a moment longer and said, "Hey, Jimmy. Youready to go?" Go?" I managed a step toward her, executing this mirage to vanish.Instead she shoved her hands into the front pockets of her jeans andtilted her head toward the door. "You said you'd show me around. More

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