The water is ice cold when I get under its punishing spray. Each stream of water stabs at my flesh, but even the frigid temperature isn’t enough to dispel my hard on. Flicking on the hot water, I groan as the warmth seeps into my bones. I make quick work of washing, but when my soapy hand wraps around my cock, I can’t keep the image out of my head of Blake’s peaches and cream skin playing peek-a-boo from underneath my robe.
I pump my hand up and down my turgid length slowly as I imagine the heat of her slick cunt as I fuck her from behind. The way the delicious globes of her ass would soften the quick flicks of my hips. The way she would moan my name as I pinch her nipple between my fingers. How she would scream as she comes around my cock while my fingers rub teasing circles around her sensitive clit, drawing out her pleasure. I'd pull out and lick her soft pussy through her orgasm, drinking down every drop, then I'd ride her hard with the taste of her release on my lips until I fill her with my cum.
My hips buck into my fist while thoughts of devouring Blake have my balls clenching and the heat of release tingling down my spine. Finally, I trip over my release when I imagine that smart little mouth of hers wrapped around my dick. The thought of releasing down her throat while I fist her hair drives me to fuck my fist harder as jets of cum shoot from my cock onto the shower floor.
I’m so fucked.
After my not so relaxing shower that did nothing to dampen my desire for the curvy little hellcat, I do a quick walk through of the cabin. Checking windows and locking doors. Even though I know there is nothing around for miles and the likelihood of any trouble finding its way here is slim to none, I can't relax until I know things are secure. Once I'm satisfied, I head to bed, pausing briefly outside Blake's door taking in the sounds of rustling sheets and crying.
Everything inside me demands I go to her. Something primal has risen up inside me and I feel irrevocably responsible for her happiness. I want to wrap her in my arms and protect her from every hurt in the world. It's crazy how a few short hours has the entire direction of my life changing. I can see my future laid out in front of me now and she's the center of it. I came to this cabin looking for answers, and I've got them in the form of an angel.
5
Blake
As soon as the door slammed shut I was ready to open it and apologize, but before I could talk myself into it the shower kicked on. Looking around the room, I’m taken back to the last time I slept in here. I had just graduated high school. Drake and I were here with several of our classmates having one last hurrah before we all left for college.
The room is exactly as it was back then. After Granddaddy died, I didn’t have the heart to change anything. Even though this was always my room, it felt wrong to erase the memories that clung to the teenie-bop posters of various boy bands and the heartthrob actors I lusted over as a teen. The bulletin board is still littered with pictures—mostly Polaroids of summers spent lazing around the creek—but there are also pictures I had taken of myself. Some are of me with friends, some are just me—you know selfies before selfies were cool.
Rummaging through the chest of drawers, I find one of my old Backstreet Boys t-shirts and some shorts that were considered indecent on my barely-there teenage curves. Now they fit like I’m getting ready to take a spin around a pole at the Pink Cadillac for a couple bucks and a tic-tac.
A tic-tac you ask?
Well, once upon a time I shared a dorm room with a girl named Bethany who called herself Cherry B, a well-known dancer of the poles. She loved to regale the entire dorm with tales of her misadventures. One story included a dude that threw tic-tacs instead of money.
I can’t make this shit up.
As I fold up Hutch’s well-worn robe, I can’t keep myself from holding the soft material to my nose and inhaling his masculine scent. It’s a heady mix of soap and man. I’m almost tempted to put it under my pillow and bask in the false security the smell brings. Instead, I set it on the dresser and flop down on my bed. The springs squeak and the mattress dips precariously in the center showing its years of use, but it’s comforting, too.
Familiar.
In the quiet of my room, I'm no longer distracted by Hutch and I can't stop thinking about my situation. I'm basically homeless and everything I own is in the condo I shared with Shane. Tears well up and I can't hold in my sobs.
This isn't who I am, I might've been pushed into a box that made me the perfect little woman for Shane. I snort at the thought because let's be honest, if I was what he wanted he wouldn't have been fucking my bestie.
I'll give myself tonight to be a crybaby. Tomorrow I'll get my poop in a group.
I toss and turn for what feels like hours, my mind constantly replaying everything that’s happened in the last forty-eight hours. It’s hard to believe that just two short days ago I woke up in a state of bliss, completely oblivious. Okay, maybe not bliss, but I thought I was happy. And now? Now there is no hiding from the reality. I’ve always been a glass half-full kind of girl. At this very moment, if my glass is half-full, then it’s half-full of curdled milk.