Amber

My name’s Chad Dupree. I have a big imagination. It served me well at times. Other times… well, let’s get to those. I write out my own sexual fantasies. I believe that in every lady, there’s a slut waiting to be brought out. You can say I am a horndog, sure. At least I express it. I started writing these in high school. Then more of them in college. You would think that college has hot girls and sex everywhere. Yes and no.

You’ve got to know where to look. Sometimes, it finds you. In that case, be ready. In the meantime, I have written about numerous girls with numerous fantasies in a single yellow book. These are their stories.

This is about an old friend from the past. Her name was Amber. She was one of my first female friends and my first real crush. We met in seventh grade. There was something about her that was different just by looking at her. We became friends. Eighth grade came. I asked my friend to tell her to say I liked her for me…

“She said she’ll think about it,” My friend said.

I wasn’t that dumb. That meant no. I was used to rejection. At the end of eighth grade, I wanted to say goodbye to Amber due to the fact we were going to different high schools.

“So, you know, after today, I might not see you again. You might not see me again…” I said.

“Look, just don’t forget about me when you get to high school, all right?” She said, smiling. Afterwards, she gave me a piece of folded paper. It was her phone number.

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” I said. I never used the number.

Now, eight years later…

It was the third quarter, close to a blowout. We were going to win. But I liked blowouts. They seemed funny to me. I watched the next play intently as the quarterback dropped back to pass. He threw it quick and deep down the field. The crowd cheered as the defensive back intercepted the ball.

“Welcome to Sports Center, bitch!” I heckled as loud as I could, laughing. “Who were you throwing it to?”

I looked back to the top of the stairs, and I see a familiar face. She waved. All of a sudden, I had a big, stupid grin on my face. It was her. My crush from the eighth grade. It was early in the season, so it was still warm out. She was wearing a t-shirt and shorts, showing off her long chocolate legs of hers that I remembered.