Cherry

Chapter One-2

RIGHTFULLY, THE WOODLAND cabins belonged to the Parks Authority, but every time the family pulled up to them Cherry felt like she was coming home. On one hand she wanted her phone to work and she wanted to f**k her boyfriend, but on the other hand... well, she wanted it to be the past again. In the woods, she felt like a little kid. Nobody to impress, just Cherry, her parents and the nosy raccoons.

Except it wouldn’t be just Cherry and her parents this year. Phil was coming.

Stupid Phil, Pop’s lame-ass friend. They’d been besties in the nineteen-hundreds, back when they were growing up. They kind of stayed in touch after high school. Cherry used to play with his daughters when they were really little and go visit them for Chanukah. At the time, she thought they were the only family in the world without a Christmas tree. She was so stupid back then.

It made Cherry kind of sad, when she thought about his daughters now, fourteen and sixteen, with parents getting divorced. Mom said the girls both wanted to live with their mother, and that made Cherry sad for Phil, too. He must miss them so much.

“Pop?” Cherry asked as they unloaded the car. “When is Phil coming?”

“Should be later today.”

“Hmm.”

“And no more complaints about it,” Mom said. “He’s coming and that’s that.”

“When did I complain?” Cherry shouted. She didn’t mean to shout. Sometimes things just popped out of her mouth before she could think, and after the fact she felt like she should apologize but she didn’t know how. “It’s fine that he’s coming. Rough divorce. Whatever. Which cabin is mine?”

“You can take that one, there.” Pop pointed to the cabin on the right.

It was pretty small, but this was the first year she didn’t have to share with her parents, so she wasn’t about to complain. She brought her luggage inside and tossed it on the ground, letting the door slam behind her. Felt good to stretch her back after that long car ride.

There wasn’t much to the cabin: a bed, a little table built out from the wall, a wooden chair, a window looking out on the woods. It was more like a glorified outhouse than an actual cabin, but she loved the smell of wood—sort of rainy, like the seasons were trapped in its timbers.

Cherry looked at her phone. No service. She stepped out of her cabin. Still none. She knew there wouldn’t be any cell reception in the woods, but she thought she’d try, anyway.

“Where are you going in your flip-flops?” Mom called out.

“Taking my phone for a walk.”

“Want company?”

“No.”

“You won’t get any bars out here,” Pop said, but she just waved as she wandered down the dirt road.

The park was familiar in the same way a dream feels familiar—like it’s real, but it isn’t. The grounds were divided into sections for quiet camping (sites with no electricity), sections for trailers and RVs (sites with electricity), and a few cabins like theirs, which were permanent structures you could rent by the week.

The one thing all sites had in common was that they were recessed into the woods, surrounded by trees, so even though you had neighbours, you felt alone. It felt good to get back to nature, even if that meant leaving Brad.

Her stomach sunk when she glanced at his last text. She kept torturing herself, reading it over and over. The thing that probably bugged her the most was that she wasn’t as upset as she should be. Maybe Pop was right. Maybe if Brad broke up with her, it wouldn’t be end of the world.

And then she scrolled back and back and back, until she found something that changed her mind: sexts from Brad. That’s what kept her coming back to him: he made her so goddamn horny. All she had to do was think about him and her p***y got all raw and pulpy.

As she read all the nasty things he wanted to do to her, she couldn’t hold back. Ducking into the woods, she cut through a thick patch of underbrush. Hopefully no one would be able to see her when she kneeled on the moss-covered stump. If she didn’t touch herself soon, she was going to explode.

Pull up that short skirt and find your itty bitty thong.

It’s pink, Brad—your favourite.

Your p***y’s all hot and throbbing.

It is, already.

My fingers rub your clit harder harder harder.

I’ll do it for you, just this once.

You want me so bad.

Yes.

You tear at my jeans, girl. You grab my c**k.

So hard, baby. Your c**k wants to f**k me.

All of me wants to f**k you. That p***y. That ass.

You wanna f**k my ass?

Oh yeah. Let me at that tight little hole.

No way. Not in this lifetime.

Yeah im geting in there. Just watch me.

Im too tight. Ur too huge.

You want it.

I want ur d**k? In my ass?

You want it.

Maybe.

You know you want it.

Maybe if you push me down and pin me to the ground and give me no choice.

Is that how you want it?

Yes.

Cherry’s finger slid easily over her shaved mound, making her gasp every time she struck her swollen clit. The woods were very quiet, which made her feel especially conspicuous as she stroked off. Where were the chipmunks nattering in the trees? Where were the songbirds? Why weren’t the forest creatures warning each other of the danger in their midst?

Rotten bunch of voyeurs. The robins and squirrels and foxes and bears were all watching her, weren’t they? Ogling her t**s as she pulled up her top, salivating over her juicy p***y.

Dropping her phone, she pressed a n****e between her finger and thumb. She pinched until it hurt, imagining her hands were Brad’s. Imagining he was right there behind her, bending her over this stump, f*****g her unforgivingly. f*****g her p***y.

And then he’d pull out, wouldn’t he? He’d try to get in her ass. Pressing his swollen cockhead to her hole, he’d force the pucker. She’d squeal and writhe, and he’d grip her tighter. He’d say, “Calm down. It’s okay.”

She’d say, “No, I don’t want to.”

He’d say, “Sure you do. Just hold still.”

And he’d push harder, he’d ram against a hole that didn’t want him there, and she’d struggle not to cry. Why didn’t he understand? It hurt so damn much...

Tires crunched gravel along the roadway. Muffled music blared through the woods.

Cherry froze.

Pulling her top down to cover her t**s, she watched through the trees as a dark car passed by. There was something really rude and cocky about making so much noise in the middle of a campground, but her p***y kept pulsing against her palm. She was too close to c****x to feel overly irritated.

When the car was gone and the woods fell silent, she pulled up her top and stared at her n*****s. It was too hot for a bra. Anyway, she didn’t like them. She preferred her t**s bare, just like her p***y.

Pinching her n*****s, she stroked her clit. Her thighs shook. God, was she ever wet down there—like she’d just had the world’s best purr job. She could probably f**k a tree trunk, if she wanted to.

She imagined herself riding Brad’s d**k while she played with herself. No, that image wasn’t doing it for her. She pictured the hot forest ranger who’d signed them into the park. No, he was a little too ruggedly perfect for her liking. What about her Calculus teacher? Her volleyball coach? Somebody! Anybody! Who could she fantasize about?

Phil?

God only knows why he came to mind. She hadn’t seen him in a million years, and she remembered him as kind of a loser, but all she had to do was imagine his c**k lodged inside her and... oh yeah. That’s the spot.

Cherry bounced so hard on the tree stump that her butt met its pillow of soft moss. She worked her p***y hard while she pinched her n*****s, sending strings of electricity from her t**s to her clit. Felt so good, so good...

She bit her tongue, but she couldn’t stop herself from whimpering. Her body screamed and writhed. This o****m took her over like a spirit possession. Wow! She could practically feel Phil’s d**k pounding inside her, spilling its seed into the depths of her p***y.

Her legs shook. Her calves cramped. She folded in on herself, until her bare t**s met her naked thighs. With her hand trapped against her hot cunt, her body convulsed like she was throwing a fit. A silent fit, though. The last thing she wanted was for someone to come to her rescue, thinking she was in trouble.

Cherry’s fingers were slick with p***y juice when she slid her hand out from between her sopping wet thighs. She was so exhausted she thought she’d fall over. Too bad she couldn’t just collapse on this mossy trunk and cuddle up under a blanket of dried leaves. Not that this hot weather opened itself to cuddling. Maybe when she got back to the cabins she’d change into her bikini and take her blow-up raft down to the lake.

But when she arrived back at the site, there was a brand new black convertible parked beside her parents’ car.

“When you said cabin, I didn’t realize it was going to be so... rustic.”

There he was. That was Phil.

Cherry wouldn’t have recognized him if they’d passed each other on the street. She wasn’t exactly sure how she recognized him at all. He used to be so nerdy, with big glasses and terrible dad-like clothes. But now...

Well, now he was dressed kind of like Charlie Sheen’s character from Two and a Half Men: khaki shorts, bowling shirt, dark hair sort of spiky, but not in a stupid way. He looked good.

Cherry’s p***y throbbed when he glanced in her direction. A bit of a smirk crossed his lips, but it disappeared when Pop looked at him and said, “Phil, you remember Cherry.”

“This is Cherry?” He took a step forward and stuck out his hand. “It’s been a while, eh, kid?”

“Sure has.” Her fingers were sticky with p***y juice, and she hesitated. “I was just thinking about you, actually.”

He raised an eyebrow, and her cheeks got hot. Cherry hoped to hell her father wouldn’t notice.

“Cherry,” Pop said. “Don’t be rude. Shake the man’s hand.”

Taking a deep breath, Cherry pressed her sweaty palm to Phil’s. When he tightened his grip, she did the same, feeling her slick juice gliding against his skin. It was so obvious.

Phil looked down at her hand, and then down again, until his gaze focused squarely between her legs.

He wanted her. It was sooo obvious.