Accepting Cherry

by Chrissy Snyder

  I walk into the produce section and head over to the apples, grabbing a plastic bag to put them in. I’m picky, so I carefully pick up one piece of fruit at a time, before deeming it ok to put into my bag. I look down and my mind quickly begins to wander. I’m lost in thought, with visions of Cherry dancing in my head. Damn, she was so hot last night. The more I think of her, the harder I get. I discretely adjust myself before my erection becomes noticeable. I look up and realize I don’t need to think about her anymore, because she’s here in person. I stand still and watch every move she makes, in awe of her beauty. Even when shopping for groceries she has this sensual air about her. I groan aloud when I see her pick up an orange and bring it to her nose to smell at the same time she closes her eyes and breathes in deeply. She places it in her cart and moves on. I watch as she comes closer and closer to me, oblivious of the fact that I’m right here in front of her and she’s about to collide with me.

  “Umph,” she grunts as I hold my arms out to steady her, my mouth watering as I breathe in her scent.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she says breathless. “I wasn’t paying attention.” Her eyes widen when she sees that it’s me and a slow blush creeps over her skin.

  “Hi,” I say, beginning to smirk. I place my forearms on the handle of the shopping cart and lean forward, relaxing. “I was wondering when I’d see you again. I just wasn’t expecting it to be playing bumper carts in the produce section.” My grin widens as I see her skin glow a darker crimson than before.

  “I have a bad habit of letting my mind wander,” she says, flashing me her dimples. Fuck I love her smile. I want to run the tip of my tongue along her dimples. I can’t take my eyes off of her, now remembering what she looked like in less clothing…. And yep there goes my fucking cock standing at attention again.

  I can tell I’m making her nervous. She’s not as bold when away from the cover of the strip club. Her smile slides off of her face and her eyes drop to the ground as she lets out a soft sigh. Her hands shake as she pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. Something has made this woman skittish or afraid. I want to find the underlying cause. I want to take that feeling away from her. More than that, I want to hurt the fucker that did this to her, that made her nervous and scared.

  “Listen,” I say while rubbing my chin. “Have you reconsidered my offer? We can stick to drinks if you aren’t up for the other. I upright myself, and put my hands into my jeans pockets trying to be casual. The movement draws her attention to the bulge in my pants. I watch her watching me, my cock getting harder as her eyes lock with my crotch. Her soft pink tongue peeks out and licks across her bottom lip and I growl low in my throat at the action. The sound catches her attention and she drags her eyes up my body and looks directly at me, her lips forming an O. I can tell she’s trying to remember what I said to her, so I quirk a brow in question.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says softly. This woman is subconsciously screaming to keep trying. She’s sexy, smells great, and I desperately want to get to know her. Something crosses her face, causing that small smile to fall. I hate the idea that I’ve hurt her in some way.

  “Hey,” I say softly, reaching for her hand. “Did I do or say something wrong?” I watch as she shakes her head and tries to smile.

  “You didn’t,” she says. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea since you’re a client of mine from the club. There’s a no fraternization policy.” I don’t think that’s what she wants, but I can’t force her into something she isn’t interested in. I’m getting a little aggravated, but I’ll just have to find another way.

  “Ok,” I say while running my hand through my hair. “If that’s what you want.” I can’t help the wave of anger that is coming over me, but it isn’t going to make her change her mind. I can see that she doesn’t intend to back down, at least not easily. She smiles at me and starts backing away, clearly ready to leave, thinking I’m going to give up easily. Little does she know I like a little challenge from time to time. “I guess I’ll just have to see you at the club then,” I call out as she starts to turn and walk away.

  She bites her bottom lip, giving me a little insight into what she’s thinking. She may say she doesn’t want this to go further, but she wants it to. “That could get expensive for you.” She starts to smile.

  I wink. “I think you’re worth the investment.” She pushes her buggy away, disappearing into an aisle, her ass swaying in her tight jeans along the way. My jaw locks, wanting to slide them off. I hurry through the rest of my groceries, ready to come up with a plan to get her in my bed. I will succeed. She just doesn’t know it yet.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cherry

  I’m jittery as I stand in line to pay for my groceries. I’m anxious and want to speed this all along. He looked so good and seems so nice, but the reality is that I can’t have what anyone else has. Time has proven that, over and over and again. I can’t take a chance and be hurt again. I’m too fragile, and if I let it happen and I break I won’t be able to be glued back together. Instead I’ll shatter into a million pieces, with no chance of any of the pieces fitting back together again.

  I hurry out of the store to my car and lay my head on my steering wheel, giving myself a minute to calm down. My entire body is trembling and the tears start flowing freely. I will never have a life of love and happiness. I want it, but the past continues to torment me. I’ve been hurt, used, and abused so many times that I don’t know if I could ever trust enough to let my heart love. I don’t deserve a man like my sexy client.

  I fucking hate him. He did this. He ruined me, and now I’ll never have what it is I want and deserve. Just like it always does when I start to imagine being happy, my mind takes me back in time to a moment I’d rather forget. Unfortunately, even I know I can’t just magically rid myself of these memories. I need new ones to erase the old, but it’s because of the old that I can’t make new…

  I’m having an inner dialogue with myself. Should I or shouldn’t I? Do I go to guidance counseling and just act normal? It was just a kiss. I can be an adult about this, right? I walk in and immediately notice him. I think Mr. Avery is surprised to see me.

  “I wasn’t sure if you were coming,” he says.

  “Of course I would be here. This is the only place I can be myself, and be accepted,” I reply. I’m trying to come off breezy, like an adult, but I’m not sure if I’m pulling it off.

  He smiles at me as I walk toward him. “You know you’re safe here…with me,” Mr. Avery says, assuring me that he accepts me no matter what. He meets me and touches my face. “You’re brilliant, funny, and incredibly beautiful.”

  I want to, but I don’t believe him. “I’m not beautiful. None of the boys here are even remotely interested in me.”

  “That’s because they are just boys, Charisa. Men would find you incredibly beautiful...and talented. You have a gorgeous, curvy figure that you keep in shape and a heart stopping face. Top that off with thick, long, blonde hair, blue eyes, and the sweetest dimples, and you have the ingredients for a knockout. A smart knockout,” he finishes softly. He closes some of the distance between us and pushes a strand of hair behind my ear.

  “This man finds you irresistible. I shouldn’t, but I can’t seem to stop myself.”

  With those words he bends his head and kisses me. Like the previous kiss, this one goes from heavy to hungry in seconds. His mouth is eating at mine, gliding against my teeth and the roof of my mouth. I whimper, my entire body trembling. I don’t know what to do with all these strange feelings. I shiver and sigh as he grips the back of my neck with his hand, pressing his body against mine. He’s showing me how much he wants me. I can feel it against my stomach. It makes me feel beautiful. My body heats and becomes flushed with desire. I can feel how hard my nipples are as the sensitive tips rub against my bra. I know I shouldn’t want him, but I do. I breathe deeply, smelling his aftershave and his own special scent that makes him Mr. Avery, my school counselor.
r />   The rattling of the grocery carts brings me back to the present. I stare out of my windshield, frozen and stiff. These memories are going to be the death of me. I lift my hands and wipe the tears from my face. I rummage for some tissues in my purse and blow my nose loudly. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, blowing out as slow as I can. I need to calm my erratic heartbeat. I feel clammy and sick to my stomach. It looks like I won’t be eating again today. With a loud sigh I start the car and pull out of my parking space, heading back to my place.

  ***

  It’s finally nightfall and I’m sitting at my station in the dressing room, applying my makeup. This is where I feel good. I can hide behind this sexy girl that has her shit together. I’ve had my hair in rollers, so I pull the rollers out, hang my head upside down, and shake it out. When I flip back upright, I have a full head of wavy-blonde hair that falls all the way to my lower back. My eyes are smoky and I applied my signature candy-apple-red lipstick. I rub my lips together. Cock-sucking lips. He always said I had big, full, cock-sucking lips. I give my head a shake to pull myself out of that memory. I need to stop that.

  I head over toward the DJ station to make sure he’s got my music ready to go. I’m really excited about my performance and I hope the guys will love it. I’m sure they will. They usually do. I pull in a lot of clientele and Roger knows it. As a result, he gives me a lot of flexibility when it comes to my routines. I catch sight of him standing in the corner, watching everything like a hawk. I smile. You might shit yourself after tonight.

  I walk to the back to make sure that one of the bouncers brought my bike in. No, not a bicycle, but a motorcycle… and not just any motorcycle, but a Harley Street 500, my baby. I made enough money in tips the first two weeks I was here to put a decent down payment on the bike. I get on and wait for my cue. I roar onto the stage on my bike as the music starts to play, my breasts heaving over the skintight leather bustier I’m wearing. I’m also in leather, ass-less chaps and a tiny red thong to match my lips.

  I dramatically kick the stand down and hop off the bike, swinging my hips in a sexy dance as I make my way to the pole. I grab it in my hand and use it as my support, before rotating around the pole. Money is being thrown up onto the stage as I close my eyes and let the music move me. I pop a finger into my mouth and suck, hard, before trailing my wet finger down my chest and between my breasts. Men are whistling and screaming their enjoyment as more money is being tossed onto the stage. I guess the saying really is true. They want a lady on the streets and a freak under the sheets. The dirtier the girl, the more content the man is. Ironically, we as women are no different. We want the dirty talking, lip biting, and hair-tugging caveman in the bedroom, but we want a gentleman to hold our doors open and seat us at the dinner table.

  I let the music guide me as I sway and rotate my hips, grinding against the pole. I pull myself up and wrap my legs around the pole. I let go with my hands and lean back, so that I can hang upside down, letting my hair touch the ground as I hold my weight with my legs. I pull myself back up and slowly slide down the pole, before seductively turning around so my back is against the pole, dropping into a squat and spreading my legs. I’ve been hitting it hard at the gym lately and it’s paying off.

  I dance around the stage, gyrating and flinging my hair, my chest heaving with every breath I take, perspiration coating my skin. I rip at my leather vest and pull it off, baring my tits and showing off my fake, ruby nipple clamps. The men in the front row are pounding on the stage-top with their hands, money being shoved at me from every direction. I grab the waist of my leather chaps and rip them off, tossing them aside before falling to my hands and knees.

  I lock eyes with the one in the center, a handsome blonde in about his late twenties. He smiles as I crawl down the center of the stage and stop directly in front of him. He’s the one with the fold of bills visible in his hand. I push up on my knees, pressing my pelvis close to his face, rolling and pumping my hips as I place my fingers under the band of my panties. He places half of a bill over the waistband as my music winds down. The lights dim and the men start shouting my name as I stand. One of the stagehands gathers up my cash as I get on my bike and make my exit with a bang.

  I head back to my dressing area and place my money into the safe. I carefully remove my nipple clamps, hissing as the blood rushes back in. I’ll definitely consider using them again, because they seem to be a big hit with the men. I haven’t been back here for more than five minutes before I hear Roger’s booming voice.

  “Holy shit, woman,” he crows. “You killed it out there. Where the fuck do you come up with this shit? Keep it up and there’s a bonus in your name,” he finishes with a laugh.

  I do a little happy dance. I’ve been socking cash away since I started here. The money is good, really good, better than I ever imagined it would be. I’ve been able to put a decent down payment on the bike, and recently put a down payment on an SUV as well. Roger was impressed when I returned his car to him, especially so early into my being hired. If the money keeps rolling in like this, I’ll be in my own place in no time. I have my eyes on a cute little house in town. It’s perfect for me, although, I do love the house I’m in now. I would want to own the whole thing, though, not just rent out a floor. Maybe that’s something I can think of as time goes on.

  Roger squeezes my shoulder. “Keep it up, Cherry. I knew you’d be good for this place. Don’t forget you have a private dance,” he says as he heads out, shaking his head and muttering something about crazy women. I need to finish up my shift in the VIP room and then I’m free to go for the night. I’m exhausted and looking forward to getting off my feet. I change my clothes and put my schoolgirl outfit on, which is always a favorite with the men. It consists of a very tiny button down crop top and a small kilt. It doesn’t even cover my entire ass, my perky cheeks peeking out, which I guess is the point. Underneath, I’m wearing a white lace bra and matching thong. I pull up knee-high white stockings and slip into a pair of black Mary-Jane wedges. I’ve pulled my hair into a high ponytail and head off to the VIP room, eager to get this over with.

  I open the door and immediately smile. “I see you’re back for more?”

  It’s the guy from the birthday party and the grocery store. He smirks. “I wasn’t done celebrating my birthday yet. I felt something was…missing.”

  I shut the door and walk toward him, placing one foot on the side of him, hiking up my leg before him. “I thought you didn’t come to places like this…. yet here you are, again.” I get a sudden rush. I’m nervous that he’s going to ask me out again. Everywhere I go he seems to be there as well. I’m starting to wonder if it’s a coincidence. The thought of saying no sounds less appetizing each time I see him. He’s a good-looking man that’s for sure. His dark hair and brilliant green eyes leave a mark on a girl. My mind might be fighting what’s in front of me, but my body has already betrayed me, my pussy throbbing and wet.

  He places his hands linked on the back of his head, leaning back against the couch. “It’s quickly growing on me. I guess my tastes have changed,” he says in gravelly voice. Damn, I love the sound of it, raspy and all man. He smirks at. “I’ll keep coming back for more if this is what it takes to see you, at least until you agree to see me outside of work. I can play by your rules if that’s what you want.”

  That one line holds so much meaning to me: my rules. I lower my leg and turn to sit on his lap and shake my ass, looking over my shoulder at him and smiling. I can feel his cock growing beneath me as I rub myself shamelessly along his length. It has been so long for me, at least, in my book. My last encounter being one I’d rather forget.

  I shake my head to get rid of those thoughts. I can’t think of that now, not here, with him. It’s like I’m tainting something good, and I can’t have that. I turn around and straddle my sexy new regular and shake my breasts in his face. He must have noticed my temporary change in demeanor or something, because he raises his hand and is about to touch my cheek when Ge
rry interrupts. “No touching.” He drops his hand immediately and looks at me with an apology on his face.

  “Sorry. I forgot.”

  I only nod at him and keep with the routine, trying to understand why my heart is beating wildly in my chest. He’s being so sweet to me, but he doesn’t know me, so why? I’m just a fucking stripper, taking my clothes off for money. Guys aren’t interested in girls like me except for one thing and one thing only. I don’t understand, and not knowing really bothers me. I shake off these damn thoughts and keep dancing for my mystery man, just enjoying our time together.

  Keeping my eyes on him, I watch his eyes glaze over as I touch my body, skimming my hands down in a slow motion. That’s right, baby. Take it all in. When a man likes what he sees…. he’ll come crawling back for more. They always do.

  When the music comes to an end I’m breathless and I feel on edge. My pulse is erratic, as is my breathing. My eyes dart everywhere but to his face. I can’t bring myself to look at him, but I know I have to. I run my finger along his jawline. “It was fun, sexy. Maybe I’ll see you around.” I stand and he does behind me. Like previously, he hands me a wad of cash for my tip. I take the money. “Thanks, sweetie.”

  He lingers briefly as if there’s something he wants to say, but doesn’t. He walks past me, exiting out the door. Once he’s out of sight I let out a big gust of air. He didn’t push me tonight, which is out of character for him. Part of me is relieved and the other part saddened that he gave up so easily. Regardless, I can’t devote any more time to him. His thoughts or actions have nothing to do with me and I need to forget him. I can’t let myself trust anyone again, or care about another human. Each and every time I loved previously it was returned to me, and not in a kind manner.

  I walk to my dressing room and step out of my costume, dumping it into my dirty laundry bag. I have a shift again tomorrow night, but first I need to clean, do laundry, and drop off my dry cleaning. I’ve left everything to the last minute, and I’ll pay for it tomorrow. I pull on a pair of jeans and a light sweater, before running a brush through my hair, clipping it off my face so I can remove my makeup. I love the feeling of my skin when it’s clean. Once it’s all off, I dump the disposable cloth into the garbage and get ready to head out.