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 The Joy of Journaling Chapter Four: Wherein I Keep the Pot Simmering

   Perhaps I'm going to hell.  Who knows?  Heck, with my luck there will be
an entire level just for me, right next to people who talk at the theater
(Pat yourself on the back if you get the reference).  I knew what I was
doing was wrong.  I was manipulating a young girl who didn't know any
better.  Everything in my upbringing told me I should be ashamed of myself.
But I wasn't.  Not by a long shot.  Amber wasn't the only one who had
jumped onto a moving train.  I probably could have put the brakes on
events, stop it before any real line was crossed.  But I didn't want to.  I
was hoping virginal pussy was in my future, and I was doing everything in
my power to make it happen.

   After Amber's little peep show, I held back for a week or so.  I was
still updating my journal, I didn't want to lose the progress I had made.
But I also knew Amber had taken a big step, and was very close to her
limit. Honestly, I'm still amazed 20 years later that I was able to get her
that far as quickly as I did.  But I needed to keep the pot simmering, to
borrow a phrase.  I knew that if I asked for another show, or if I tried to
advance her along, I stood a good chance of her pulling back.  I'm not sure
when, but somehow I had developed an innate sense of how far I could push
her.

   So I left well enough alone.  In my journal entries I flattered the hell
out of her.  I figured she was probably regretting her boldness, and I
needed to repaint her memory of the event with what I wanted her to
remember.  Say something enough times, and it will eventually become the
truth.  So I went into great detail of how much I enjoyed the show and how
I was surprised by how much Amber had matured in mind and body.  On and on
I went in an effort to overwrite any other feeling she might have had about
letting me see her breasts.  In short, were you to read my entries, you
would have though the sun rose and set under her shirt.

   Eventually, after about ten day of feeding her a steady diet of how
wonderful the experience was for both of us, I felt the time was right to
prod Amber along.  Any more praise and Amber might have taken it upon
herself to see if someone her own age could appreciate her like I was,
since she was so great.  That was most certainly not something I wanted. 
Steps would have to be taken to ensure that little hairless clam between
her thighs remained fresh until I was able to convince her to offer it up
to me.  Those thoughts rushed through my head as I wrote my next entry.

   I had a dream last night about Amber again.  Small wonder, as

   the glorious view I was able to sneak is burned into my

   brain.  I still can't believe I was able to see that!  I count

   myself insanely lucky and can now die a happy man.

   But, about the dream, I was at the theater, working at the

   box office, and every ticket was soft.  Soft and warm.  In my

   dream I knew I should rip the tickets..  but I just couldn't.

   They felt so nice, like the best thing I had ever felt.  So I

   would pocket the tickets and give the customer an old one.

   Eventually I noticed that every ticket I was taking...  and

   this sounds crazy, but every ticket that felt good had

   Amber's name on it!  I would just reach into my pocket and

   play with them, and it was...  well..  I was getting VERY

   happy.  When I took the tickets out..  they kinda merged together to

   form a boob.And not just any boob..  HER boob.

   I just remember I kept caressing it, playing with it,

   stroking it, cupping it.  In my dream the ticket-boob even had

   a hard nipple!  It was crazy.  I was going to lean in and suck

   on it, but I woke up before I could.

   It's insane, I know.  Who the hell dreams of a boob made out

   of theater tickets??  I think I need to spend less time at the

   theater.  That, and I REALLY need to get a girlfriend.

   But who am I kidding?  I know who I wish I could go with, I've

   been dreaming about her for the past month or so.  But she's

   too damn young!  But still..  what I wouldn't give to feel

   her...  yeah..  feel her in real life like I felt her in the

   dream.  I bet she's better than the dream.  But, once again,

   she's too young.  I can't approach her.  But, oh how I wish I

   could compare real life to dream.

   -D

   Yeah, I thought that should do it.  Now I just needed to get the journal
into the little slut's hands.  That shouldn't be a problem, she knew the
journal existed, and was going out of her way to check it every time she
was over.  Which, as luck would have it, was often.

   So I just placed it on my bed, peeking out from under my pillow, before
work.  I knew she was coming over that day, and I knew she would be looking
for it.  Read well, Amber, drink deeply from the river of bull I was
feeding you.

   Lo and behold, when I returned, the journal had been moved, and Amber
had invited herself to spend the night again.  Not that I was complaining.
While I wasn't as infatuated with her as I was leading her to believe, she
did "get my motor running", and I did like to look at her.  Perhaps it was
the same way a lion would look at a gazelle he was planning on eating.  I
had plans for her, and was enjoying every time she moved within my orbit.

   After I showered the night proceeded like many others.  In fact, I had
wondered if I was wrong.  Had I pushed Amber a too far?  Was all my work
for naught?

   Any thoughts like this were quickly quashed when I was asked to
participate in a little tournament between Julia, Amber, and myself.  It
was a question of who could get the furthest in "Maelstrom".  Amber was
quickly eliminated on the second level.  Julia fared much better and
received a fairly decent score.  Then it was just down to me to sit in the
computer chair and see if I could beat her score.

   I was actually doing fairly well, until I heard Amber and Julia giggling
in the background, and whispers of "You can't do that!" and "It's no big
deal, I'll just distract him and you'll win!" between the two girls.

   The next thing I knew, Amber was leaning over my back from behind,
wanting to "see if I was cheating".  Yeah...  right.  Like I needed to
cheat!  I was about to say just that, when my attention was drawn to the
sensation of two small breasts with hard nipples pressing into my back. 
Mmmmm..  that felt nice.  REALLY nice.  Yes, I was one very happy man.  I
couldn't concentrate on the game and quickly lost all my lives to
high-resolution asteroids.

   It didn't last nearly as long as I had hoped it would before Amber
pulled away.  But, even from that brief contact, I was liking what I felt.
I would need to exit the room soon.

   But, seeming to notice how I was getting flustered, Amber asked with a
mischievous grin, "Everything OK, David?  You seem to be sweating a bit."
Then she went back to Julia and they giggled in the way only young girls
can.

   Yes, laugh all you want, Amber.  Laugh at silly David with his growing
boner and how he suddenly sucks at playing games.  Enjoy it while it lasts.
But remember, if my plan works, I'll soon be enjoying you and making sure
your slot is cock-operated.
   ~~END CHAPTER FOUR~~