Cherry's Revenge Ch. 01bymightypinkdms©
I never wanted this to happen.
The whole fling started about a week ago. Despite spending the majority of the week wishing that I could disappear from the face of the earth, I had managed to drag myself to a local convenience store for the few essentials and a lot more luxuries. I deserved to be pampered, I thought angrily, especially taking in consideration recent events. Before long, I found myself looking at the latest DVD releases, eyeing the candy-fluff films full of the love and romance with a weird mixture of contempt and longing. It wasn't until I picked up a mass-produced DVD off the shelf that I saw him enter the store out of the corner of my eye. Damien, I sighed to myself, trying to position myself out of his line of vision by slipping further down the aisle. Damien was Mark's best friend; and Mark was my very, very recent ex-boyfriend. I was - undoubtedly - in love with Mark; but after two years of sickly sweet text messages and hot nights in his wooden-framed bed, it had all come to a shuddering halt.
Something about needing a break from the norm, about needing his own space again, or some sort of pathetic, clichéd crap. Having seen his recent messages in his inbox, I noticed that it was perhaps something to do with little Miana, a secretary in his office who'd been sending him more than slightly provocative pictures. Heartbroken wasn't the word for it: I was here, in a supermarket, with my face naked and my hair limp and greasy around my face. How could I possibly get over the love of my life when I was so caught up with the past? So seeing Damien, delicious as he was, in a supermarket where I was sobbing over some romantic DVD blurb -- well, it wasn't my idea of fun. Hiding behind the tall DVD stand, I hoped he wouldn't see me, but I knew with the luck I was having that he probably already had. Just as I started to breathe a sigh of relief, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder.
"Cherry?" said the voice, and I groaned inside.
"Hey Damien," I said, trying to hide the exasperation in my voice as I eyed his look of curiosity with bitter resentment. So what if I looked awful: I was going through a break up and I was allowed to look awful if I wanted to.
"How are you holding up?" he said softly, pushing my hair gently out of my eyes as he peered anxiously into their dark wells. Don't pretend you care, I thought irritably as I took a step backwards, I know you're just going to go running back to Mark as soon as you leave the store and tell him how rubbish I was looking.
"Fine," I said coldly, trying to avoid his searching eye contact. Even though I hated him at this moment of time for just being Mark's friend, I'd always had a bit of a crush on him. His gorgeous, bright blonde hair glowed in the fluorescent lights like an alternative, spiky halo and his bright green eyes twinkled with child-like inquisitiveness. And although he was undeniably good-looking in a cute, school-boy way, his body and relationship track record belied his innocence. He was a stud, the type who slept with women and dumped them the next day without so much as a phone call. I detested his pig-headed, obnoxious, chauvinistic behaviour but couldn't help myself being so undeniably attracted to him. I tried hard to push these burgeoning thoughts aside and, with renewed determination, started to turn away from him.
"Hey," he called after me, "Hey!"
"What?" I shouted back, already closing in on an empty till.
"I was wondering," he said loudly, walking quickly to catch up with me, "I was wondering if you'd like to go for a drink, or something. Like at the weekend or something..." He trailed off and I narrowed my eyes.
"Why?" I said, exasperated, "So you can go back and report back to Mark about how nasty I'm being about him behind his back?" I slung the DVD and huge bottle of coke onto the counter viciously and he winced, his eyebrows knotting furiously above his startled eyes.
"No," he said, "It's not like that. I just, well, thought you'd like to go out for a drink. Saturday," he added for clarification and, my mind whirring quickly, I began to smile amiably. If I could sleep with his best friend, I thought slyly, that would really piss him off. I knew Mark hated Damien's womanising ways and it would kill him to know I'd fallen so easily into his arms.
"Well," I replied, acting overly coy, "I suppose I could come out for one drink." He grinned and nodded happily, grabbing my small hand lightly with his own and kissed it gently.
"I won't let you down, gorgeous," he said cockily with a large, overdone wink and, without so much as a thought to Mark, I winked back. Speedily, he made his way back out of the store without so much as looking back. I wondered openly whether he'd tell Mark he'd seen me; well, he definitely wouldn't tell him that he was going out with him. That night, as I lay between my thin, silk covers in my flimsy underwear, I imagined the two of them fighting over me. Brunette against blonde, brown eyes against green, tall against broad...I imagined them touching me, stroking my bare skin with their large, broad hands, kissing my tanned neck with unsatisfied hunger that only I could feed. It wasn't long before these images switched solely to Damien; partially because I no longer wanted Mark and mostly because I was curious as to what Damien's body was like. I'd seen him in swimwear, and although he was broad, he was incredibly toned, and when he hugged me in greeting I could feel the strength he had. Would he take advantage of me on Saturday night? Did I want him to? These questions remained silently unanswered in my head, but I think I already knew the answers.
One thing I did know for sure was that he was an animal in bed; my girl friend Bailey, having spent one lust-filled evening with him, had told me so. He knew expertly how to make a woman climax, over and over again if the mood took him. Sometimes I had struggled to come while lying in Mark's arms, and although Mark was no less than average in size, he hadn't the skills to really know what to do with it. Needless to say, he had always come, and hadn't really bothered much about trying to do the same for me. Would Damien be larger than Mark? Would he hurt me by playing too hard? Right at that moment I didn't care; my skin was prickling to be touched and fondled; so I gently stroked my thighs while I imagined what he would do to me. I deftly imagined his expert hands; so alike to Mark's in size in shape, fingering me in to oblivion. Pretending his fingers were my own, I rubbed my wet slit tentatively in the expert way that only us girls knew how. Before long, I was writhing in the bed sheets, my slick skin sticking to my sheets as I brought myself to a heady climax and fell back into a dreamless sleep.
So Saturday came, and I had made a point of looking my best. My whole outfit had been selected to emphasise my sexiness: the skirt caught me sharply at mid-shin, tightly wrapping across my curvy backside and flaring temptingly at the hem; the strappy top clinging sensuously to my small breasts in order to give me a fantastic hour-glass silhouette. Underneath, I wore the best underwear I had ever brought: a beautiful, silky bra with lace that framed my golden skin, my buttocks left bare with exception to a tiny g-string that sat sexily across my hips. I even put on stockings and suspenders for that added thrill of sexiness. I tried to tell my nerves that nothing would happen but secretly I hoped the opposite. Making sure that the image of my bare face would be forgotten from his mind, I vamped up my make up with smoky eyes and blood red lipstick. Everything about me from my wavy hair to my patent leather stilettos screamed sex, and deep down I knew it, relishing my appearance with large gusto. Before I knew it, a loud rap came upon my door and I ran to it, expectant of Damien's imminent arrival. I wasn't disappointed: there I was confronted by a huge bunch of flowers and the best looking guy I'd seen in a long while.
"Hey," he said almost shyly, and I grinned.
"Hey Damien," I said, ignoring his mouth opening and closing rapidly, "Where are we going?" He laughed.
"Right now, I don't think we can go any where with you looking like that!" The smile froze on my face, had I misjudged the situation? I looked down at my outfit and blushed a fiery shade of red.
"What do you mean?" I said faintly, trying to avoid his eyes.
"You look so hot, Cherry..." he groaned, "Are you wearing suspenders too?"
"If your good," I teased, smiling as I realised nothing was wrong, "I might let you find out..." He groaned loudly again, pushing his hands behind his back to refrain from touching me and I laughed loudly, taking his arm as we walked to a nearby pub.
The problem with local pubs is that they are local. As we took our drinks to the table-clothed booth at the side of the pub, I noticed that Mark was here. My heart sank strangely in my chest, but I refused to feel belittled by his presence. Damien, on the other hand, was charming, taking my hand and telling me anecdotes from his job as an electrician. I laughed where I deemed it appropriate, but was watching Mark anxiously at the same time. Who was he waiting for? I saw Miana enter the pub and felt floored. How dare he bring that little bitch to my pub? My face became thunderous as I watched them flirt at the bar, both unaware of my presence. Just as I was about to walk out of the pub, I felt a warm hand on my leg.
"Your not listening to me, are you?" asked Damien sadly, following my eyes.
"I'm sorry but..." I gestured to the bar, "I wasn't expecting him to be here with her."
"Hey, forget about them," he soothed, patting my knee gently and sliding his hand up and down my inner thigh. His touch sent little frissons of delight straight to my groin, my attention immediately back to him. "That's better," he said softly, "Now as I've been a very good boy, and a charming date, I think it's about time that I got something I wanted too..." His fingers slid a little higher, a slight, sly smile creeping on his soft lips.
"Oh," I said, with mock suspicion, "And what would that be?" His fingers stroked the thin barrier that kept his touch from my skin, but still I was highly aroused.
"A little knowledge," he said, his fingers moving higher up my skirt until they were mid-thigh, kneading the almost bare skin in such a way that made the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand up, "I wanted to find out if you were wearing..." He stopped mid-speech as a shadow lay across the table.
"Hey Damien, Cherry," said the squeaky, high-pitched voice, "I thought I saw you over here, I was telling Mark I thought it was you, but he said no it wasn't possible..."
"Shut up Miana," said Mark neutrally, and Miana stopped immediately, hurt crossing her small, grey eyes. He searched my face for signs of sadness or regret, and I made sure he found none. "So, how are you doing Cherry?" I opened my mouth but no words came out: I hadn't expected them to come over. I gulped, unsure of what to say. Gently, I felt Damien's reassuring hands stroking the top of my stockings, his face remaining clear although the smile was still in his eyes. I took strength in the lightly caressing hands, and spoke.
"I'm fine Mark, but I'm actually on a date right now, so if you don't mind."
"What -- you?" he spluttered, "And Damien?"
"Yes me, and Damien. I always had a crush on him you know," I looked fondly over at Damien, and he took my hand with his free one, kissing it gently.
"Mark," whined Miana, "I need a drink." She pulled anxiously on his sleeve, trying to break his concentration from the two of us.
"Yeah, well we're going Mi," he said, stomping out of the bar. Miana looked bewildered at his sudden departure, quickly following his wake like a lost puppy. I laughed gleefully, and Damien smiled lecherously at me
"So stockings, hey?" he said smoulderingly, "And what other surprises do you have under there for me?" His hands were now on the bare stretch of skin between my thong and my stockings, and I moaned silently
"Well," I breathed heavily, as his hands stealthily made their way up my inner thigh, "If you keep going you'll find out." I opened my legs slightly wider, leaning back in the booth chair. Although I felt self-conscious in this busy pub, I couldn't stop him touching me now. He moaned, too, when he met the material that was barely covering my hardened clit. Gently, with a flick of a finger he moved the silky fabric aside and pushed one finger into my dripping hole. I almost screamed as it penetrated me, My nipples hardened under my strappy top. He closed his eyes, groaning openly before removing his finger from me. Disappointed, I closed my legs and watched him shudder in his chair. Looking at me, he took his wet, coated finger and sucked it tenderly.
"You taste beautiful," he said, groaning, "Please take me home with you, right now?" I smiled, amazed at being desired by such a handsome man, and jumped out of the booth.
"Now?" I said, teasing, "I'm going to the toilet and taking my thong off. Then we can go back to my flat..." "I have to walk the whole way back with you, knowing you have no underwear on?" he moaned, as I nodded my assent, and he groaned once more.
"Please -- hurry up..."
As we climbed up the steps to my front door, he was already grabbing my uncovered crotch through my skirt, his hands stroking me through the clothing. We fell through the doorway, pulling off our clothing as quickly as the buttons, zips and ties would let us. As soon as I had my shirt and bra off, he took my small breasts into his soft lips, pulling at them with his teeth as I pulled lightly at his spiky, blonde hair. His bites were furious but light, driving me to the brink of ecstasy with his small, wet tongue. I groaned repeatedly, my soft moans matched by his animalistic grunts. Before I had even thought about touching his hard penis, he picked me up and threw me on the sofa, ripping my skirt off to reveal my complete, golden nakedness. For a moment he was still, drinking in the image of my hastily flung frame on the leather sofa.
"God, you're beautiful!" he breathed, before lowering his head to my stomach. Gently he kissed his way down to my hips, making his way down my supple thighs before pushing my legs apart. Then, he swiftly kissed his way up my inner thighs, pushing the stockings out of his way angrily. I bit down on my lip hard as he lightly placed his first kiss on my clit. "I've dreamt about this moment," he said, "I've always wanted you, right from when Mark first introduced us."
"Me too," I moaned, as he started giving me oral sex. I'd never received anything like this from Mark and the intensity was amazing. His fingers were as equally as involved as his lovely mouth, and I grabbed his hair to hold him there. Obliging, he brought me furiously to orgasm. "Oh my God," I moaned in the after effects of orgasm, "No one has ever done that for me before." He smiled, playing lightly with my still erect nipples.
"My darling," he said in a fake accent, "We've only just begun!" I smiled as he kissed me hard, and I wrapped my lithe frame around his hips. He buried his lips into my throat, kissing me hard on the pulse as I gently stroked his heavy balls. He immediately became more forceful, pinning my hands under him as I stroked him with ever increasing strokes. "Please," he groaned, "I'm going to come..."
"And I want you too," I said sensuously, "Inside me." He needed no further telling as he pushed himself inside me, his swollen member filling me so wholly that I screamed openly with delight, he grinned, his eyes meeting my own as he pulled me closer, burying himself repeatedly into my glistening folds. His face contorted as he lost control, his load spilling frantically inside me.
"Fuck!" he cried, as he held onto me, "Oh Cherry!" I smiled, his broad arms encircling me as he climbed off me. "Your amazing," he breathed in my ear, sending shivers down my cool spine.
"You too," I laughed, "I can't get enough of you..." He smiled and kissed me on the cheek.
"I can't go again yet," he laughed back, give me a few hours and we'll go again, I have some more things to show you anyway..."
"And me you," I added, looking him straight in the eye, "I'd like to return the favour."
"Which one?" he replied cockily and I smiled, before falling asleep on his broad, tanned shoulder.