Amber
Todd Levinson
Anal Slut Seeks Cyber NastinessÉ..
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He leaned into the burst of computer light. The monitor flashed thin, pale white flickers on his face as he scanned down the endless rows of classifiedsads.
CumNme 236 Ð I like to get fucked. Can You Fuck Me Hard?
He pursed his lips. The little photo next to her name was small at first, like a stamp. A tiny pixel of indecipherable flesh.
When you clicked on the photo, it expanded, taking up about a quarter of the screen. The crotch of her panties was pulled aside exposing moist pink flesh. Her finger nails teased her thighs.
CumNme3129
I like going to movies and parties. My Boyfriend dumped me because I like to fuck too much and he couldn’t handle it. I need a real man who likes to go all night. Can you fuck me hard?
He wondered if he could fuck her hard. He wasn’t really sure. His fingers clicked a few keys and stopped. He rubbed his forehead and squinted. He wrote that he was cute in a nerdy way but that he wasn’t afraid to take charge in the bedroom. I have a nice thick, cock, too. It has a big head. I really love women and would love to fuck you.
That was good, and sincere. She would want to know about his cock. She wanted to be fucked. He sent the message and it appeared framed in a gray box in the center of the screen. He re-read it. Instead of cute he had typed cut.
There were rows and rows of ads. Horny pre-op wants to fuck. Go crazy on my pussy. Slutty housewife wants to get gang banged..My husband’s away. Fuck my ass and leave.
When he signed up, he had to fillfilled out a questionnaire. He checked off little boxes. I am a male/female searching for a male/female. Check the one that applies to you. Height. Weight. Age. Religion. Race.
I am looking for: bondage, one on one sex, dirty emails, cross dressing, discreet meetings, discipline, phone sex, water sports, ass play, bi-curious, miscellaneous fetishes. He checked them all, then changed his mind and unchecked cross dressing.
I’m willing to travel 20, 50, 100, 200 miles. I am a smoker/non smoker/light smoker. I am slim/fit/full/voluptuous.
At first he went with the free basic membership, which didn’t allow him to post a photo and limited how many ads he could respond to daily. After two weeks of carefully picking and choosing who he wrote to each day, he hadn’t gotten a single response. He decided to upgrade his membership.
Now he could post a picture of himself and respond to as many ads as he wanted. That was the best way. The more ads you responded to, the better your chances were. It was a numbers game. Maybe that was impersonal but he really loved women. He was a sensitive, passionate man.
There was a little blue photo booth in the mall. He had showered and shaved, combed his hair and put on a clean, button down shirt. He sat down in the booth and pulled the curtain. You had to line up your face in the middle of a large oval on the screen. He raised his eyebrows. He looked deep into the camera.
That was the last really hot day of summer. He walked along the sidewalk, watching the women drift by. Their foreheads glistened. Their mouths hung open. Their clothing stuck to their skin, their cheeks flushed. All these women want to get fucked, he thought. They all want it.
On the subway, he studied the strip of photos which had spit out from the side of the little booth. Each one a floating head on a light blue background. He held them about a foot away from his face and looked from photo to photo. Then, he held the strip very close to his face and looked at each picture.
When he got home he threw his back pack on the bed, pulled the chair from the desk and turned the computer on. It clicked and beeped. He jiggled the mouse back and forth.
Click, click, click. Type, type, type. Back to the best place to meet hot, horny women who want to fuck. Right on your very own computer.
He looked over his photos again. In one, he stared into the camera dully. His mouth half open, his eyelids heavy. In another, he looked very uncomfortable. He decided on the heavy-lidded one, it was kind of sexy in a detached and bored sort of way. Other guys had put up photos of their dicks, but he thought that was tasteless. A picture of his face was much more personal.
When the photo loaded into the computer, it appeared next to his ad. A tiny indecipherable postage stamp face sandwiched between rows and rows of cock shots and beefcake poses. At any time a woman might come along and see his picture. And she’ll see what a nice guy he is and she’ll feel something for him and send him a message. And maybe they’ll really like each other and she’ll want to fuck him. And then he’ll fuck her.
It was time to get to work now. There were a lot of ads to respond to, and he didn’t want to write the same form response to all of them. He wanted to stand out.
The sun had gone down and the lights in his apartment were still off. There was just his computer screen. Bright white, flashing on his skin. Rows and rows of pictures, undulating, blinking, pulsing.
Height, weight, race, religion, cock size, cup size. Blonde, brunette, black, white, Asian, slutty, innocent, dangerous, bossy, aloof. Every possible combination of triggers to send the blood rushing, to make your mouth water. They flickered on his shifting eyeballs, dancing over his face like a projection in a dark theater. Endless reels of bodies bent and contorted. He could hear their grunts and moans, smell the salty collision of flesh. The more ads he responded too, the more he became intoxicated by the endless possibilities He was no longer writing to one woman in particular, he was writing to everywoman. He was professing his deepest, heart felt love for all women on this planet.
One of the ads looked familiar. He wondered if he might have gone through all of them and started over, but decided to keep going. He clicked the next little postage stamp.
The photo was a topless, skinny, brown haired girl. She had thin shoulders and small breasts and wore lacy white panties. Her head was tilted to the side and her hair hung down along her thin body. Her face had the rosy, wet glow of a young girl cradling her best friend’s baby brother.
When he saw the photo he melted inside. He felt excited and nervous and nauseous. She was so beautiful and youthful and sweet and sexy, she looked so nurturing.
Amber23226
He re-read her message and thought about his reply. It had to sound natural. And real. And it had to be honest. He didn’t want to start off by lying.
Dear Amber,
Hi. I’m cute in a nerdy kind of way. I like to jog on the beach early in the mornings. It’s so quiet and pure. I think you are really sweet and sexy. A lot of people write in their ads that they are compassionate because they think that is what you are supposed to write. I can tell that you really are. I think that is really sexy. I really hope you write me back because I would really like to meet you. You are really cute.
He sent the message. It made her happy when other people were happy, that was so sweet. He wanted to show her how sweet he could be. He wanted to take her for long romantic walks on the beach, go to the movies, go on outings with her. He wanted her to know how good a lover he could be.
He leaned back in his chair and breathed out hard through his mouth. The room behind him was black. Just the light coming from the screen, her smile, her teeth and lips. Her bare shoulders arched back. Her thin white panties. You could see her dark pubic hair through the lace. He looked at her thighs and breasts. He thought about kissing her stomach and her belly button. Kissing all over those little white panties and then slowly pulling them off.
His hand was resting on his lap. He started rubbing himself over his pants. He closed his eyes and unfastened his belt. He pulled his zipper down. His head rolled back and his breathing became jagged. He pictured her spread out naked on thick white carpet. He imagined crawling all over her. Kissing her everywhere. Slowly moving inside her, then fucking her with complete abandon. He imagined her moans and whimpers. He heard her crying out his name. His hand moved faster and faster. He lifted slightly off the chair, twitched and grunted, then sank back down in a heap.
The computer hummed. The clock ticked.
He pushed the chair away from the desk with his feet. His pants hanging around his knees, he shuffled to the bathroom and turned the faucet on with his pinky. He wiped himself off, threw the towel in the corner, zipped his pants back up, walked back to the computer and sat down.
Her picture was still on the screen. She was perfect, but what if she wasn’t interested?
Later that night, he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He wondered if she had written him back. He wondered if he had gotten any responses at all.
All the photos, the rows and rows of classifieds were flashing through his head. He pictured Amber and a blonde who had written she liked watching sports. They were frolicking like wood nymphs in a dense moist forest. They kissed and fondled each other. They licked each others earlobes. They pulled at each others hair. They bit and nibbled. They called his name. They begged for him. They begged for his cock.
In the morning, he got up and turned the computer on.
Clicks and beeps. Beeps and clicks. He tapped on the mouse. He tapped his foot. The pictures loaded piece by piece. In the corner of the screen was his little mailbox. It was always flashing, always ready to receive incoming messages. It never slept, never stopped its lonely beacon. He just had to keep trying. He just had to say the right thing, then someone would want him, someone would want to fuck him.
But Amber hadn’t written back, no one had.
He looked at Amber’s ad again. He looked at her smile. He looked at her little breasts. He wanted to send another message but he resisted the urge. He didn’t want to creep her out.
He scanned more ads. By now he had a system going. He was always cute in a nerdy way, always liked jogging on the beach. The rest he would tailor to the specific ad.
For the raunchier ones, he told them about his cock size and described what he would like to do to them and how he wasn’t cocky or macho but could take control in the bedroom.
For the ones who were looking for something more romantic, he kept the nerdy-cute and jogging parts and left out the hardcore stuff. He replaced it with any sensitive moaonings that happened to be crossing his mind. You have beautiful eyes. I can’t believe you don’t have a boyfriend. I want soemething pure.
He noticed that on each ad you could see the last time someone had logged on. He realized many of the ads were old and that some of the women hadn’t visited the site in months or years. He had already responded to all the current ones and a large portion of the old ones. He turned the computer off.
It was early anyways, and Amber hadn’t logged on today. He could check again later. Outside there was sunlight and birds chirping. He heard his neighbors downstairs laughing.
He fell back on his bed and stared at the ceiling. She likes nature, we could go camping. We’d pack up the car and drive into the mountains. There would be natural settings. Everything would be perfect and beautiful.
He closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them, it was dark. He rubbed his face and looked around and looked at the clock. He turned on the lights. He had slept all day.
He got out of bed and turned the computer on. She had to have written back, someone had to have written back.
He had a message. Next to his tiny blinking mailbox, there was a tiny blinking 1. His heart jumped. He clicked on his mailbox and nothing happened. He clicked the mouse rapidly, it rattled like an angry insect. The message appeared framed in a little grey box in the center of the screen.
Amber 23226
Hi sweetie,
You are so sweet. I’m so glad you responded to my ad. There are so many creepy guys on this site but you seem genuine and real. Maybe we can get together sometime. Amber - xoxoxo
She thought he was sweet. His personality had really shined through. She could tell he wasn’t creepy like those other guys. She wouldn’t want to get together sometime with a pervert.
He re-read her message.
Was it too soon to reply? She had only just sent it three hours ago. And should he ask her out? And if so, where would they go and what would they do? It would have to be a place where she felt comfortable to meet.
It was definitely too soon to reply. He noticed a new posting.
AssFuckMe6969
Your dirty anal whore wants to suck your greasy cock. I want to fuck you so bad baby ohhh yeah baby do you feel it? My hot asshole? I want to suck your cock after you fuck me in the ass.
That was just sleazy. Amber would never want to do anything like that. Sure she wanted to fuck and everything. Probably even in the ass. But she wasn’t a slut like this greasy cock girl. She was respectable.
He decided not to respond to any other messages unless they were from Amber. She’s different. She’s not like all those other slutty women and I’m not like all those other pervert guys. That’s why we found each other.
He turned the computer off and looked around his room. His bed was a tangle of sheets. On the floor, dishes and magazines were scattered over mounds of dirty clothes and trash.
He had been spending way too much time on the computer. He would get up early tomorrow and get a fresh start. He wouldn’t even check his mail again until tomorrow night. He had things to do and think about besides sitting around on the internet trying to meet women. He was only interested in Amber anyways.
Still, he was curious to see if he would get other responses.
He went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He spit a pool of brownish red saliva into the sink. It puddled around the drain. The bristles on his toothbrush were dark red with small chunks of yellow puss. He spit again and ran the faucet.
The next morning his room was filled with sunlight. His eyes opened and he was looking right at the computer. He wanted to check his mail, but it was pointless. Amber probably hadn’t written again, it was too early.
He got up and stretched, did fifty sit-ups and pushups and went for a jog on the beach. When he ran, he imagined Amber running next to him. They talked about how beautiful the ocean was and the sand and the clouds. Their conversations were very spiritual. He would tell her how much he loved her and how beautiful she was. He thought about her moving into his apartment. He imagined their little love nest.
That night, he got home from work and turned the computer on. He stared at the blinking mailbox and the big round zero blinking next to it.
Should I email her again? She did say she wanted to go out sometime. Maybe she’s waiting for me to make the next move.
Dear Amber,
I’ve been thinking a lot about you. I can tell you are really nice and I think we would have a really good time together. Once you get to know me you’ll see how caring and sensitive I am. I can’t believe it but I have a crush on you and I’ve never even met you. Can we meet some time? I would really like to see you in person.
She would appreciate how up front he was being even if the crush thing was a little weird. Anyways, he was just a romantic.
It was getting late now. He turned the lights and TV off and lay in the dark. Maybe he had said too much. He wished he hadn’t written the crush part. It was kind of creepy. Maybe she’ll think it’s cute. He decided to stop thinking about it.
His eyes had adjusted to the dark and now he could see the outline of the computer screen sitting on his desk. He rolled over and pulled his blanket and sheets around his shoulders. He rolled back. He kicked his legs. He rolled onto his stomach. He adjusted his pillows.
Maybe one last check. He threw the blanket off and turned the computer on. He squinted and blinked at the screen. He had a message. It was from Amber.
Hi Sweetie,
I’m glad you wrote me. You’re so nice. I think sweet guys are really sexy. Things are really crazy for me right now, I won’t be logging on for a couple of weeks. Talk to you soon.
Amber -xoxox
A couple of weeks? A couple of weeks? How busy could she be? It only took five minutes to check your mail.
He still logged on every night. He went through all the ads again, writing to a few of them a second time. When the month ended he renewed his membership.
He wondered if she would want people to know they had met on-line? Maybe they could come up with a fake story, their own special little secret.
A few days later he tried to look at her picture again and the ad was gone. He sifted through the rows and rows but couldn’t find Amber.
How could she just disappear like that? They were just starting to get to know each other. Maybe something had happened. What if there was something wrong. What if some creep on the sight had found her and done something horrible to her. He found the customer service number.
“Hello, yeah I’m trying to find someone. Their posting disappeared.”
“I’m sorry sir, we don’t run the sight, we’re just the billing service.”
“How can I find her? I’m worried that she needs help.”
“We can’t give out customer information.”
“I want to talk to the people who run the site.”
“All we have is an address for sending complaints.”
“Fine, give me the address.”
It was in his city. He could deliver the letter in person.
The next morning, he called in sick to work. Letter in hand, he wandered through rows of corrugated, graffiti-covered warehouses before he found the place.
There was no doorbell. Only an expressionless metal door with two locks and a mail slot. He knocked on the door with his knuckles. Cars passed on the freeway. He beat on the door with the side of his fist. Nothing.
He slipped his letter into the mail slot and stared at the door. He banged on the door, this time with both fists. He dropped to one knee and put his face up to the mail slot. Inside, there was a large mound of envelopes.
He tugged on the door. If they weren’t going to read his letter he wanted it back. There had to be another way in.
An uneven cement path ran along the side of the building. It had been torn apart by thick weeds. Half way down the building, there was a small window about a foot above his head. He wrapped his fingers around the ledge and pulled himself up.
Except for the mound of envelopes and a few broken shipping crates, the warehouse looked empty. He dropped back to the pavement.
He leaned against the wall and rubbed his forehead.
At his feet, was a large chunk of cement which had broken off the path. He picked it up and tossed it up and down lightly in his hand. He turned around and looked at the window.
The glass shattered. He listened for an alarm but only heard a faint humming. He squeezed head first through the small hole and fell inside. He stumbled over to the pile of envelopes and grabbed his letter.
Inside, the humming sound was much louder. There was a door in the back corner he hadn’t seen from the window.
He knocked on it and got no response. He tried the knob and the door was unlocked. Inside, the walls were covered with vented metal paneling. Behind the vents he could see a maze of wires and circuit boards lit up by pulsing, flashing lights. The air was dense and warm. The humming vibrated through his body. In the center of the room there was a computer terminal. The curser was blinking.
He sat down and started typing. He was able to bring up a directory of files, they poured across the screen, blurring into a waterfall of blurry green type. A few he was able to pick out, he recognized as screen names from the site. He wondered if he had found the customer file.
The curser was blinking again. He typed in Amber 23226. The screen went blank, the lights cut out. The humming stopped.
He could hear the cars on the freeway. He looked around at the dim and lifeless wires and metal paneling. He looked out the door and saw the pile of envelopes. He covered his face with his hands and began to cry, his palms muffling his sniffles and whimpers.
Suddenly, the lights flashed on again, the humming started up.
“Hi sweetie, it’s Amber.” It was a girlish, playful voice, but metallic and thin. He looked around, his face wet with tears.
“What?”
Lights flashed behind the panels. The curser blinked.
“I like outings, listening to music, Blockbuster nights, sports, and cuddlingÉ”
“What? What the fuck?”
“I’m happy wheny other people are happpyÉ.”
He cricled around in the room like a confused animal. When his eyes settled back on the computer he noticed a blinking display on the wall behind it. It said Program: Amber 23226
“Program? What the hell is this?”
“I’m glad you wrote meÉ.”
He looked at the ceiling and noticed a speaker attached high on the wall.
“Let’s get together some timeÉ.”
“This is a scam, isn’t it?”
“Things are really crazy for me right nowÉ.”
“Answer me, you bitch!”
“Talk to you soonÉ”
“Answer me!”
He was crying again. Sobbing as his body rocked back and forth.
“You seem genuine and realÉ..”
“You fucking bitch! You fucking lied to me!”
He screamed and threw the computer monitor across the room. He beat on the metal paneling with his fists, then tore one large panel off the wall.
He shoved both hands into a web of exposed wires and pulled. There was a loud pop and crack. Sparks shot out at him. He jumped and jerked. His hips thrust. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. His hair smoked. His body stiffened and tightly convulsed. Now he was part of the circuit, his fluids conducting the electrical charge. His body shook faster and faster.
A fire had started and flames were licking up towards the ceiling, slowly filling the room with dark smoke.
Amber’s voice sounded warped and cracked. It was stretched and bent, turned backwards.
“I think sweet guys are really sexy.”
