Cabin In The Woods

by Kristine Robinson

  I fell back asleep, frustrated, and hoped that my dreams wouldn’t tease me any further.

  Chapter 2: Alana

  I heard a noise outside of my apartment and opened the door to see Gina, the girl I had met the night before, backed against the wall. She was being accosted by a man who lived in the building—a drunk who had the tendency to bother any woman who was unfortunate enough to have looked his way when she walked in the door.

  “Get off of her, Charlie,” I snapped, taking Gina’s arm and pulling her inside. I shut the door behind us and looked at her with my hands on my hips. She had been unbelievably rude to me; I hadn’t expected to ever see her again and honestly didn’t mind that one bit. She was beautiful, for sure, and the way she’d kissed me had been so sweet that I’d thought about it all night, unable to sleep. But she was a snob. Most of the people who frequented the club where I worked were snobs. I had gotten used to dealing with them, but didn’t particularly want to do so at home on my off-time. I wondered what she wanted; if she was coming to try to seduce me again just to get back at her asshole boyfriend, she had another thing coming.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, slightly embarrassed at how modest my apartment was. It was small, but clean and cozy, nothing like the large apartment I’d been to the night before. She was obviously used to opulence and riches, and nothing about my apartment particularly screamed wealth or material comfort.

  “I wanted to say I’m sorry about last night,” said Gina, her voice and eyes clear and filled with genuine sincerity. “I went to the club and got your address—I just couldn’t let you leave like that without apologizing. It was a bad night. I know that’s no excuse, but…”

  “Just let it go,” I found myself saying, despite the fact that I had been so angry with her just hours before. I knew she’d had a terrible night. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, wanted for some reason to think that she was a good person, that her rudeness had been totally out of character for her. Most of that was because I was so attracted to her. She was gorgeous, a blond with blue eyes that shone like crystals. I had been with women before but never one so beautiful or enchanting. “It’s okay. I’m not exactly your type, anyway.”

  She sighed. “I don’t have a type. Or, I do, but they always seem to be assholes like CJ.”

  “Have you talked to your boyfriend?” I asked her, sitting down on the couch and gesturing for her to join me. She sat close to me, so close I could feel the heat of her body next to mine. I took a moment just to look at her, to wonder what she was doing. Obviously, she was attracted to me, and yet she didn’t seem like the type of woman who had ever approached another woman.

  “He hasn’t called,” she admitted, gazing at me. “And I hope he never does.”

  “Why not?” I asked her.

  “He only wanted me as arm candy. And the occasional sex. He never treated me right.”

  I nodded, unsurprised. The guy was an asshole, for sure. The way he’d pushed her down enraged me even now. And the boldness of him cheating on her in public; it must have been humiliating. A wave of sympathy washed over me as I stared at her pretty face.

  “You’re better off being rid of someone who doesn’t see your potential,” I said softly, looking into her eyes. She was mesmerized, I could tell, and overwhelmed by her attraction to me. I could tell somehow that she had never been with a woman before. It was the way she was sitting, nervous, a little confused but aroused nonetheless. I could always tell when a woman wanted me—she shifted on the couch, squirming, trying to hide the fact that her body was responding to mine in a very sensual way. The sight of it made me hot. Knowing that she was applying pressure between her legs, that she had to stimulate herself in my presence, made my whole body tense up with need.

  “And what potential is that?” she asked, her lips parted sensuously. I stared at them, then looked back into her eyes.

  “You’re beautiful,” I told her, then gave her a gentle smile. “A little too proud, maybe. But just looking for love.”

  She looked at me and smiled, then leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine. I began to respond to her, unable to help myself, but then pulled away.

  “Don’t sell yourself short,” I said. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “That’s not what this is,” she said, breathing against my lips. I kissed her then, taking her mouth with mine, lost in my desire for her. There was a chemistry between us that couldn’t be denied. The kiss grew more heated, her tongue teasing mine, our mouths melting together so naturally it was as if we’d been doing this all our lives, as if we were meant to. I put my hand on the back of her neck and held her face close. My free hand traced a line down her chest, from her throat to between her breasts and down over her abdomen. I found myself stroking between her legs as we kissed, found that I couldn’t help it. She gave a soft moan of pleasure and surprise that was muffled by the passion of our kiss.

  She pulled away then and stood up, taking my hand and letting me guide her through the hall and to my bedroom. She sat down on the bed and looked up at me shyly, gazing at me through her long lashes.

  “I’ve never done this before,” she admitted quietly. “With a woman, I mean.”

  I smiled at her, not surprised. Then I leaned down to kiss her softly on the lips. She responded with a soft sigh and wrapped her arms around my shoulders to pull me on top of her.

  “Don’t worry,” I whispered, stroking her hair. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

  She smiled and took my mouth in a hungry kiss, slipping her tongue between my lips. I kissed her back, tasting her mouth, relishing the feeling of her body pressed to mine. I sat up then and looked down at her, began to unbutton her shirt so that her round, ripe breasts were revealed to me. I lowered my head and licked a circle around each of her nipples, eliciting a soft moan from her lips that drove me absolutely wild. I sucked one of them between my lips and watched her face for her reaction, which was everything I hoped it would be. Her features were filled with lust and pleasure, her eyes half-lidded and watching me suck on her. I used my hands to palm her breasts, toying with her nipples with my thumbs as I brought my mouth back up to kiss her, addicted to the taste of her lips. I slipped my hand down her abdomen, tracing her navel with my finger before lowering it to unbutton her jeans. I sat up and pulled them down and off of her so that she was only in her panties in front of me. They were white cotton, and I could see how wet she was through the thin fabric. I began to stroke her through them, barely tracing her lower lips with the tips of my fingers, making her raise her hips in a plea for more.

  “Not just yet,” I told her, then grinned at the wanton look on her face. I stood up and undressed in front of her, got completely naked and gazed at her as her eyes caressed my body. My breasts were smaller than hers, my hips a little narrower, but I knew that I was in good shape and I could tell that she was enjoying the sight. I climbed back on top of her and took her mouth with mine, my hips grinding against hers, our mounds rubbing together, separated only by the fabric of her panties. She groaned and slid her hands down my back, settling them on my ass so that she could rub against me even harder. The feeling of her mound against mine, even through the fabric, was almost maddening. If she’d been a little more experienced, a little readier for it, I would have ripped off her panties right then so that we could be bare and naked against each other. Instead, I stilled my hips and gave her one last, hot kiss before lowering myself down her body, taking a moment to suck on her nipples again before positioning my face between her legs.

  She squirmed as I simply breathed over her mound, taking in her scent, the sight of her swollen outer lips pressing against the translucent fabric. I planted a soft kiss on her bud, which was peeking out at the top of her slit. I ran my tongue over her panties, tasting her, licking her slit from bottom to top. I flattened my tongue when I reached her bud and applied just enough pressure to make her hips rise against my face. She moaned softly and reached down to he
r panty line, trying to take them off, but I took her hands and held them still as I lapped at her slit through her panties. I wanted to tease her, to make her wait for it. I had a feeling she wasn’t used to being told no, to being made to wait for her pleasure. Had the feeling, too, that her asshole boyfriend had never spent this much time trying to make her hot. I focused on her bud then with the tip of my tongue, teasing it mercilessly. She continued to squirm against my mouth, her hips begging for more.

  Finally, I pulled her panties down and off. I wanted to taste her for real, wanted to gather her moisture on my tongue and make her come against my mouth. I was going to take my time, though, and eat her thoroughly. I parted her outer lips with my thumbs so that her inner ones were exposed to me, glistening with her juices, her bud swollen and pink. I sucked it between my lips and lashed at it with my tongue, making her legs shake. Pulling her legs over my shoulders, I slipped my tongue inside of her, tasting her honey right from the source. I spread her juices all over her inside and outside of her slit, then lapped at it and licked it clean over and over again. She was moaning steadily, her hands in my hair, pulling my face closer between her legs. I knew what she needed and gave it to her, sliding two fingers deep within her channel and curling them upward to finger the sweet spot inside of her, all while licking and sucking on her precious bud. It was time to make her come for me, to give her the ultimate pleasure. Her hips bucked against my face as she gushed over my fingers with a loud cry of pleasure.

  After a moment, I climbed back over her, kissing her so that she could taste herself on my lips. She responded hungrily, her tongue in my mouth, and lifted her hands to gently pinch my nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, squeezing my breasts until they ached with pleasure.

  “Roll over,” she said against my lips. “I want to taste you now.”

  “You don’t have to. Not if you’re not ready.”

  “Hush,” she said, kissing me again, then flipped me onto my back and crawled down my body, planting kisses along my skin as she went. When her face was between my legs, she gave a tentative lick over my slit, parting my lower lips just slightly with her tongue. An electric sensation washed through me. Watching her, knowing it was her first time, was something that made me wild with lust. She licked me slowly at first, simply lapping at my folds, before gently using the tip of her tongue to tease my sensitive bud in slow circles. She did so for a long time, just tasting me, practicing reading my body and my responses to her. For my part, it was one of the best feelings I’d ever had to feel her mouth caressing me. I was so wet I felt myself dripping onto the mattress, and when she lowered her head to lick me clean I moaned with sheer pleasure.

  “Am I doing good?” she asked, her voice sweet and sincere. I nodded at her.

  “You’re incredible,” I breathed. “Keep going.”

  So she did, eating me with a little more force, her mouth growing fiercer, more confident as she went. After a few more moments of her sucking on my bud I came against her mouth, my whole body trembling with ecstasy.

  I pulled her upward to kiss me again, savoring the taste of myself on her lips. She laid there on top of me, our breasts pressed together, and smiled when I wrapped my arms around her. We were quiet for a moment, simply gazing at each other before she rolled over and lay next to me, propping herself on one elbow to look down at my face.

  “Tell me about you,” I said, looking up into her eyes. “Tell me about your past, your life.”

  She traced my abdomen with her fingertip, thinking for a moment.

  “My childhood was opulent,” she told me. “My parents had money. I was in the lap of luxury my whole life.”

  She paused, blushing, as if she was ashamed of what she’d said. “But there was never any warmth there. My parents were always gone on some business trip, or just for fun. I was mostly with a nanny who barely paid me any attention, just left me to my own devices. I was so lonely growing up.”

  I kissed her, wanting to show her what warmth was like. She responded, her mouth sweet, a smile on her lips.

  “What about you?” she asked. “You told me a little bit about where you came from, I know, but what else?”

  “I grew up in a very poor neighborhood. Trailer park, dirty, everything you’d expect. I finally saved up enough to move out here. I wanted to help my family,” I told her. “But sometimes I just want to do my own thing. I have my own dreams.”

  “Like what?”

  I blushed for some reason. “I want to open up a restaurant. My own restaurant.”

  She looked at me, absentmindedly stroking my belly with her fingertips, bringing them over the curve of my waist. She gave me a soft, charmed smile, and leaned down to kiss me on the mouth. The kiss was slow and languid, perfect in the moment.

  “I can help you with that.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t need charity,” I said. The idea of it made me sick. To take her money, to take any money that I hadn’t earned myself, would wound my pride too much to bear.

  She stared into my eyes. Hers were soft and gentle. “It’s not like that. I just want to help.”

  “You barely even know me,” I pointed out. “I could be a monster.”

  She laughed. “So let me get to know you. Let me take you out on a date.”

  I gazed at her face, drank in her pretty features. I lifted my head to kiss her cheek and nodded.

  “Okay,” I said, and smiled.

  Chapter 3: Gina

  I was nervous before our date. I didn’t know why—we had already been intimate with each other and I was perfectly comfortable around her. Still, I felt there was something I had to prove to her. That I wasn’t a bad person, not that snob I acted like the first night I’d met her. It had been out of character for me to act that way and I wanted to make sure she knew it. I wanted to give her a good impression of me; I didn’t know why I was so attracted to her or why I cared so much about her opinion, only that I was and I did. Her thoughts mattered to me, and I wanted them to be positive.

  I picked her up at eight and she smiled when I pulled up to the curb. When she got into the car, she kissed me, her lips sweet like cherries. I kissed her back eagerly, almost tempted to go inside with her, to make love to her again before we even left. I’d never had such an erotic experience as I’d had with her. I’d never thought I’d be with a woman; it wasn’t my thing. But being with her felt so natural and right, felt like heaven, so I didn’t question it. I only wondered what my family would think. They were pretty conservative, stuck in their own ways. I tried not to worry about that as we drove away from her apartment. I wouldn’t care, anyway, not after the night we’d had before. It had been magical, sexier than anything I had ever experienced. It was nothing like I’d imagined being with a woman would be like, but even better.

  I decided that I didn’t want to go to a restaurant and sit down for a date so I took her to the local boardwalk, where there were food trucks and vendors lined up and down the way. I parked in the lot and we got out of the car. She looked around, smiling, as if she hadn’t expected it.

  “I thought we were just going to a restaurant.”

  “Would you rather?” I asked, slightly alarmed. I hadn’t wanted to take her anywhere too fancy; the last thing I wanted her to think, after our initial meeting, was that I was too high-maintenance. I thought the boardwalk would be fun but I didn’t want her to think I was being cheap, either. It was so confusing, so hard to make the right decision in this case.

  She kissed me on the cheek and took my hand, intertwining our fingers.

  “This is perfect, Gina,” she said softly. “Just perfect.”

  We held hands as we walked along the pier, talking and laughing as we people-watched. We grabbed tacos from a vendor and sat down on a bench to eat them, the grease dripping down our fingers. Occasionally, she’d lean over and kiss me, as if she couldn’t help herself. I was more than eager to respond. I had never been so in tune with anybody before and I wanted her so badly I thought it would
overwhelm me, that I’d be lost in a sea of desire. Her kisses were addictive and they made me think of the way her mouth had felt between my legs. I found myself blushing, as if the whole public could see my thoughts. I tried to push the images away.

  “What kind of restaurant do you want to open up?” I asked her once we were done eating our messy food. I wiped my face with a napkin and handed on to her.

  She thought for a moment, watching as a man and his daughter rode by on bicycles. “A diner. Like a good old-fashioned southern diner.”

  I smiled, charmed. I’d expected something bigger, fancier. A diner was the perfect answer and would have suited her perfectly. “Why?”

  “We couldn’t afford to go out to eat when I was little,” she said, her hands folded in her lap. I could tell she felt embarrassed by the admission and took her hand to show her that she shouldn’t. There was nothing shameful about the way she’d grown up. “Every once in a while, though, my mom would get a bigger paycheck, and we’d go to the diner down the street. For a treat.”