“Cuando la carga de trabajo se acumula, una buena idea es tu mejor aliada. "El secreto de la vida es saber tomar atajos.”--Amber

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About Amber

● FirstName: Amber
● Last Name: Méndez
● Nationality: Mexico
● Birthday: 03-04-2002
Amber is a law student at the National Autonomous University of Mexico, born in a traditional Mexican family. She grew up under the corporal punishment of her rigid and conservative father with slippers (La Chancla) and the care of her mother with a wooden spoon (La Cuchara de Madera). They did not allow Amber to shed a tear of disrespect during her rebellious adolescence. Now that she has successfully been admitted to the most famous law school in Mexico, Amber plans to do something crazy on her 22nd birthday…

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Amber was a law student at the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM), one of the oldest and largest universities in Latin America. Its main campus, Ciudad Universitaria, is a UNESCO World Heritage site, known for its impressive architecture and vibrant academic culture.

One day, her classmates organized a day trip to Xochimilco, a picturesque area located in the southern part of Mexico City. Famous for its unique canals and colorful flat-bottomed boats known as trajineras, Xochimilco is a beloved destination for both locals and tourists seeking a break from the city’s bustling pace.

The trip was filled with laughter and excitement as Amber and her friends explored the vibrant landscape. After a while, Amber wandered off to find a quiet spot at the edge of the camp. There, she discovered a tranquil corner beneath a large tree. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy above, and the soft grass beneath her feet provided the perfect place to rest. She leaned back against the sturdy trunk, placed her hat to one side, and put on her headphones to listen to her favorite music.

Amber stretched her legs on the grass and closed her eyes, letting the gentle breeze carry away her worries. It was a rare moment of peace amidst her otherwise hectic schedule. She was enjoying the calm when a group of her fellow groupmates from the law program passed by, chatting and laughing.

Slut Legend

“Hola, Amber,” (“Hey, Amber,”) one of them said, waving at her casually. “Te ves muy relajada.” (“You’re looking very relaxed.”)

Amber smiled and waved back. “Sí, tomando un pequeño descanso. ¿Qué pasa?” (“Yeah, taking a little break. What’s up?”)

Another member of the group stopped, tilting her head slightly. “¿Recuerdas nuestras tareas, verdad? Se entregan esta noche.” (“You remembered our assignments, right? They’re due tonight.”)

Amber’s smile faltered for a moment. “¿Esta noche? Pensé que teníamos más tiempo.” (“Wait, tonight? I thought we had more time.”)

The girls exchanged knowing looks. One of them chuckled and started listing things off. “Derecho Constitucional. Necesitas escribir un análisis del artículo 27 de la Constitución Mexicana. Luego está nuestro informe grupal de Derecho Comparado sobre las diferencias en los procedimientos de litigio civil entre México y los EE. UU. Y no olvides Derecho Penal: se supone que debes redactar una estrategia de defensa completa para el caso ficticio.”
(“Constitutional Law. You need to write an analysis of Article 27 of the Mexican Constitution. Then there’s our Comparative Law group report on civil litigation differences between Mexico and the U.S. And don’t forget Criminal Law—you’re supposed to draft a full defense strategy for the mock case.”)

Amber blinked, suddenly sitting up straighter. “Vaya, supongo que lo olvidé. Gracias por recordármelo.” (“Wow, I guess I did forget. Thanks for the reminder.”)

One of the girls shrugged with a playful smile. “No hay problema. Te veías tan tranquila aquí que pensamos que tal vez necesitabas un pequeño empujón.” (“No problem. You looked so calm over here; we figured you might need a little nudge.”)

Another added, “Vamos a volver para terminar el informe grupal. Si necesitas algo, ven con nosotras.” (“We’re heading back to help finalize the group report. If you need anything, just join us.”)

Amber nodded, her mind already racing with ideas. “Encontraré una solución. ¡Gracias por avisarme!” (“I’ll figure something out. Thanks for letting me know!”)

The group walked on, leaving Amber to gather her thoughts. She leaned back against the tree again, staring at the row of boys’ tents not far away. A sly smile crept onto her face as an idea began to take shape. She knew exactly how to tackle the situation.

Amber adjusted her hat, brushing off the grass as she stood up with a determined smile. Her idea was simple, maybe even audacious, but it was worth a try. She walked across the camp toward the row of boys’ tents, the sunlight glinting off her dark hair as she approached.

Reaching one of the larger tents, she crouched slightly and leaned half her body inside, propping herself up with one hand on the tent frame. A few of the boys inside turned their heads, startled by her sudden appearance.

“Hola, chicos,” (“Hey, boys,”) Amber said with a playful tone, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “¿Pueden hacerme un favor? Tal vez podríamos cerrar un trato.” (“Can you do me a favor? Maybe we could strike a deal.”)

Her words lingered in the air, and the expressions on the boys’ faces ranged from curiosity to amusement. One of them raised an eyebrow, leaning forward with a grin. “¿Qué tipo de trato?” (“What kind of deal?”)

Amber’s smile widened slightly. “Eso depende de cuánto me puedan ayudar.” (“That depends on how much you can help me.”)

The boys exchanged glances, a mix of intrigue and excitement flickering in their eyes. Amber knew she had their attention now.

The boys' underwear was scattered all over the floor at the entrance of the tent

“Tarea comparativa” ¿Hasta cuándo vas a chupar mis pechos?
(”Comparative Homework” How long are you going to suck my breasts?)

Oye, “Tarea constitucional” No me pongas salsa de barbacoa en los dedos de los pies.
(Hey, “Constitutional Homework” Don’t put barbecue sauce on my toes.)

Oh~ Espera, no, “Tarea criminal” ! ¡Qué clase de… parte sensible!
(Oh~ Wait, no, “Criminal Homework” !that’s mine…sensitive part!)

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the camp, a group of girls gathered at the central meeting point. Each had taken great care in their appearance—meticulously applied makeup, perfectly styled hair, and carefully chosen outfits that blended casual charm with a touch of allure. Among them were Amber’s groupmates, chatting animatedly about their plans for the evening.

Their goal was clear: to catch the boys’ attention and maybe even spark a bit of harmless flirtation. Laughter echoed as they exchanged compliments on their efforts, their excitement building with each passing moment. But as the minutes turned into an hour, a peculiar realization settled over the group.

“¿Dónde están los chicos?” (“Where are the boys?”)

The question lingered in the air, unspoken but shared by all: What could possibly be keeping them so occupied?

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Amber

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