Cabin In The Woods

by Kristine Robinson

  Martha, on the other hand, had no compunction about showing Jake just how smitten she was with him. Jake liked it and showed her that he wanted it. He kept touching the small of her back and rubbing her shoulders. Martha smiled at him and then smiled at me. She was practically beaming with energy, and I could definitely understand why. Jake really was a catch, the kind of guy that girls wanted to hang out with, and even date. I could see that, although he wasn't really the kind of guy I would bring home to my parents. Not that there was anything wrong with Jake, but it was easy to tell that he had a lot of growing up left to do. Not that he was immature in speech or action, but that he was a scoundrel. And any parent would quickly see that it wasn't a long term thing.

  Not that it always had to be a long term thing, by any means. Martha wasn't the type of person who always sought out the kind of near marriages that people called relationships. As for me, I liked my men to want to at least be around for the short term. Jake wasn't even that kind of guy, but it made him all the more alluring to both Martha and myself. The way that he would casually sashay across the room to me after flirting with Martha and let the backs of his knuckles drag across the small of my back. There was a certain swagger that was all his own, and that was something I could really admire. People always tried so hard to fake confidence it was now nearly a turn off for me. But Jake wasn't like that at all. He was actually confident and really thought about how he could tackle the world. There was never any doubt in his mind that he was the man in the room who was the most charming, best looking, and he easily jumped into complex conversations about politics.

  “You know,” Jake said. “The election is upcoming and all, and Hillary is really killing it. The last debate was something else. I thought Trump was going to put up a better defense, or at least an offense that made sense.”

  “I hate him,” Martha said. “Plain and simple. I'm with her.”

  I laughed.

  “I'm going to write in someone funny,” I said. “Like Mickey Mouse, or Jar Jar Binks. I know, I know, I'm throwing my vote away. So sue me. It's my vote! I'll do whatever I want with it!”

  Jake laughed at this and made his way back over to the fridge.

  “Would either of you ladies like something to eat?” he asked. “I'm famished, and I'm also a pretty good cook. I could whip something healthy up.”

  Before we knew it, we were both eating homemade salsa and an omelet along while enjoying some Irish coffee. Jake was the kind of guy who knew how to liven up a party and also knew how to satisfy the palate.

  “This is so good,” Martha said. “Where did you learn to cook like that?”

  “Culinary school,” Jake said. “There are so many people who learn how to cook well and then never use it. I'm one of them. But during times like this, when I'm hanging out with people, I do get to use it. So that's nice. But these moments are rare. There really aren't many other people who are down to have an Irish coffee along with an omelet before five o'clock, unfortunately. Because that's the kind of restaurant that I want to work in.”

  “I'd love that kind of place,” Martha said. “You should start one!”

  He chuckled.

  “It's a lot of work,” Jake said. “I was close to running a nice European restaurant, but then the owner started doing blow all the time and things fell apart pretty quickly. There wasn't much I could do but watch. The one thing that I took away from the ordeal was that I didn't want to be in charge of business. Not because I'd fuck it up and fuck everyone over, but because there is just so much that goes along with it. Like making sure that people take breaks, and that no one is stealing, and that people are actually cleaning what they say they're cleaning. Stuff like that.”

  “Oh,” Martha said. “I'd never thought of that.”

  We sat around the kitchen's cute little table looking into our coffees, thinking of all the stress that would come along with running a thriving eatery.

  “You know what I've always wanted to do,” I said. “I've always wanted to invent something you know? Not, like, anything important or life saying. Just something that everyone would buy because it made them happy. Like how those rock pets that grew grass hair were so popular, or how that guy who made the mold for the bill of a baseball cap made millions of dollars. But I guess I'd also like it to be pretty, so maybe some kind of doll line, with its own dollhouses? I'm not really sure.”

  “There are a lot of opportunities to have fun with that idea,” Jake said. “You could start a whole new thing, where the dolls actual do stuff in the house. Like a video game, but with dolls. I guess that's pretty vague, but you get the idea.”

  I did get the idea, and I also got that Martha had been right about me liking Jake as well.

  They were obviously into each other and flopped down on the couch, all sprawled out so they touched, and turned on the television. There was a sitcom on with a hot couple making out.

  “What do you ladies think about sex on television?” Jake asked. “Do you think that it's fairly depicted, or do you think that it's horseshit?”

  I took a seat across from them, drink in hand.

  “I guess I don't have a problem with it,” I said. “I just don't like when people forget that television is one thing, and real life is another. Way too many people actually believe that an orgasm just happens in a few seconds of intercourse. It's so many men! I mean, how can so many people be completely wrong about something as natural as sexual intercourse?”

  Both Martha and Jake laughed at this.

  “But can't sex just be sex,” Jake said. “I may not want to marry everyone I sleep with.”

  “I'm not suggesting that sex can't be sex,” I said. “I'm just saying how sex actually needs to be depicted, or people need to realize that not everything they see on the television is real. It's not really a hard concept to know that there are fake sex scenes, and there are very few real sex scenes.”

  “I can't even think of a real sex scene,” Martha said. “I know that there are a few movies that have them, though.”

  “Oh, for sure,” Jake said. “There are a couple where the director will say something like, 'They were wearing prosthetics,' but I think everyone realizes that's just a cop-out so that the movie doesn't get a rated X rating or anything like that.”

  Martha seemed to think this over as the sun sat outside the living room window. Once again it was totally beautiful, and the leaves swirled around outside on the street as if they had a mind of their own. There was something serene about what was happening, something great. Nature, just outside the window, changing right in front of us. And in the room nature was present as well, a longing felt between us. There was something in the air, the same magic that was swirling around outside, that made me want to keep everyone close, to never let anyone go. For a few long seconds I actually wished there would never be another moment except for this one, with the sun shining through my window and lighting up my living room, but then the moment passed.

  “God, that was beautiful,” Jake said. “I'm surprised that the sky got that red color of rust when you streak it across your hand.”

  Martha giggled at Jake's description.

  “Only a boy would say something like that,” Martha said. “A girl would know the color, but a boy would know where to find the color outside.”

  “Wait a minute now,” I said. “You sound a little sexist saying stuff like that...”

  Martha rolled her eyes. She didn't like how I often interjected my feminism into her conversations. I couldn't help it, though. There was no way I could just sit there and listen to her babble on as if she had no pride in herself or any other woman around. Sure, maybe there wasn't anything directly disparaging to say that a female wouldn't know where to find a color outside, but it enforced gender roles and stereotypes. I liked to think of men and women as multifaceted beings.

  “You think of sex as being able to be more than one thing,” I said. “But when it comes to gender you have a static idea in your head? That just seem
s strange to me.”

  Martha smiled slowly.

  “You might be surprised what my ideas about gender really are,” Martha said. “I might think that boys play outside more, but there are more unorthodox things I think that I keep to myself most of the time because people can't handle ideas that clash with their own.”

  “Like what,” I said. “What ideas do you have that are so radical?”

  “Well, for instance,” Martha said. “I think that someone in a relationship can sleep with someone else, of the same sex, with their partner's permission, and have it be all right.”

  I found myself nodding in agreement right along with Jake. It was hard to argue with what Martha was saying when I didn't disagree. But that didn't mean that Martha was off the hook just yet.

  “All right, so you might have ideas that are non-heteronormative, but it's still stupid of you to sit there and say things that reinforce beliefs which restrict little girls.”

  Martha rolled her eyes again.

  “I actually agree,” Jake said. “And totally get where you are coming from. Although I don't think Martha is doing anything wrong by voicing her opinion, I do believe that there is way too much stock put into the idea that boys will be boys and girls will be girls. People will be people, you know?”

  I nodded, thinking again of what kind of guy Jake really was. He was a nice guy, most likely, and he probably treated people well, but he just wanted to be his own person and not be tied down to anyone or anywhere. That was something I could appreciate, but at the same time, it wasn't something that I would find very easy to adjust to in a partner. But Jake didn't want to be a partner, he wanted to be a lover, and that was fine with me as well.

  “You know, I have an awesome leaf collection that we just moved in,” Martha said. “Would you like to see it, Jessica?”

  “Of course!” I shouted.

  My love of leaves always betrayed me. There was something about them which I found truly magical. I'd had no idea that Martha kept a leaf collection. I loved those kinds of collections, the way the leaves were pressed out and dried to a crisp, while still retaining much of their original state. It was like catching a leaf in a freeze frame photo. When we got to Martha's room, we all had to make our way around stacked boxes to find the album she was looking for. When she opened it up, there they were, hundreds of leaves all pressed and preserved forever.

  I ran my hand over the ridges of the leaves I could feel through the plastic. It was incredible to touch them like that, it was as if I was running my fingers through the history of nature itself.

  “This is pretty cool,” Jake said. “I will admit, when I heard what we were coming to look at, I was like, what? But now that I see what's up I totally get why you're stoked about leaves. These things are pretty neat to look at. And there are all kinds of them. I guess I sound like a kid, but I just hadn't ever considered how awesome leaves are before.”

  Martha and I both chuckled at this, and Jake blushed. There was something about the way Jake was quick to be embarrassed that I really liked. It made me think of all the times he'd seemed so confident before, but now he just seemed normal. I guessed that that was what happened as you actually got to know a person. They ended up acting normal instead of cool. I still liked Jake even though he was revealing himself to be a nerd. It was cool that he conducted himself so graciously as he blushed. A lot of guys I'd dated would become frustrated, or not known how to act. But not Jake. He knew that it was all right to blush and get caught up in the moment. There was something about him, the vulnerability, which really drew me to him. Martha was feeling it as well and rested one of her legs on his. We were all starting to get hot, and not from the temperature. Walking back out into the common area was tough, as if we all wanted to go back into the room and look at leaves. But I don't think it was leaves that we wanted to look at, not really. We wanted to look at each other and touch each other. Martha was so gorgeous, and so was Jake. I was having a hard time keeping my hands off of them when they started putting their hands on each other. They started groping and petting each other right there in the hallway, and I couldn't help but stand, smile, and watch.

  Martha was a busty girl with a big ass, the kind of girl that guys loved to fuck. I knew that I was lucky to get to see her all turned on like this. While they touched each other I walked over and took Martha's face in my hands. Gently, I kissed her full on the lips. For a moment she acted as if she didn't know what to do, but then she kissed me back. There was something about another woman kissing me that turned me on so much I could barely contain myself, but Jake was pulling Martha back toward her new room, and I got the feeling that while I might be welcome, they had some things to work out between themselves.

  So I sat on the sofa and turned on the television again, but this time I turned it down low so I could hear what was going on in the other room. It was so hot to listen to two really hot people fuck. The moaning sounds that Martha was making let me know that Jake knew what he was doing. That made me glad because there was nothing worse in the world than a hot guy who didn't know how to lay a girl right. And there were plenty of guys like that out there, I'd come to realize. Jake seemed to be the opposite, though, as I heard the headboard knocking against the bedroom wall. They must be having great sex I thought. And then I wondered why I didn't go and watch. I found both of them attractive, and there was no reason that I couldn't take a gander at the fun. I knew that neither of them would care, and instead, it would most likely turn both of them on even more than they already were.

  Quietly I stood up and tiptoed back to Martha's room. The sounds coming from inside were primal, yet sensual. I couldn't wait to crack open the door and see what was going on inside. For a second I hesitated, and just pressed my ear to the door. From what I could hear Jake was really giving it to Martha. Then they stopped for a second, only to start again. I cracked the door just a bit to watch and saw that Martha had crawled on top and Jake was holding on to her hips, pulling her down against him.

  I felt my body get hot all over and backed away from the door. Was I supposed to be doing this? It was one thing to talk about being free sexually, but I was finding that it took much more bravery to actually do any of it than I thought it would. But even though I was scared, I knew that I wanted to touch Martha and Jake at the same time. Maybe one at a time first, I didn't know. All I knew was that I couldn't wait to be with them, to feel them around me and relish every second of it. There was nothing better than being the center of attention, and that was something that I loved.

  It was hard for me to admit it sometimes because my brand of feminism found attention-seeking women problematic. But deep down I loved it when all eyes were on me, especially when they were eyes that I found attractive. There was nothing better than being wanted by someone I wanted, and that was just a fact of life.

  Still unsure of what to do, I backed away from the door and retreated back into the kitchen. Pretending not to hear them I made myself some coffee to drink. It made me so hot to think they knew I heard them, to know they wanted me to hear. Something about that was so alluring to me. Maybe today was not the right time, but I knew there was a good chance I would want to explore the idea later.

  As I sipped my coffee, I looked out the window. The moon hung as a sickle in the sky. It was big and bright and made me think of the things to come.

  ~*~

  After that, the three of us became nearly inseparable. We went to the beach together, to the mall together, started going to the marshes to watch animals together. All three of us being together, and being such a tight knit group of three, made it seem like the world opened up to us. Whereas before we had been leery of the city, now we embraced it. With Jake there to show us around, there was always a good time waiting.

  Things between Martha and Jake didn't seem to progress as they would normally. They weren't like a couple at all, although they did things together that couples did. There was always a reserved bearing about them when they were out in publ
ic. They didn't like to let people see into their personal lives, and from what I could tell didn't want to define it even to themselves. Which was fine with me, because I was drawn to both of them as we hung out together. Martha seemed to balance Jake out: where Martha was deliberate Jake was kind of a space-case, Jake liked to be spontaneous but Martha liked to make plans. Although I knew I was romanticizing it, I'd come to think of them as yin and yang to each other. They worked so well together, and I was the two little dots in the middle of the swirling drops of a Ying Yang symbol. Little did I know how much turbulence could come out of such a dynamic.

  I noticed that there were other forces at work. Martha seemed to want to make me more like her and had started doing my makeup before we would meet up with Jake. I found it flattering when Martha made wardrobe suggestions for me. Sometimes she would have me dress up in one sexy outfit after another, and then, when nearly an hour had elapsed, would laugh and say something like, "Oh, I was just having you do that for me. I knew what I wanted you to wear when we first stepped in here." She liked to be in control, and it wasn't the bossy kind of control, but just a more dominant nature than I was used to. There wasn't anything macho about it, like I was used to finding in men, but instead seemed more to stem from a place of firm buy gentle caring.

  We were all out on the main strip one day, looking for a good time and some local food, when we walked past a store selling various items of kinky nature. There were leather whips and harness, all manner of bondage gear. I'd been into BDSM in the past, but nothing serious. Sure, I'd let guys tie me up on occasion, or I'd act extra submissive to turn someone on, but it had never really been my bag. There just seemed like too much room for the power dynamic between submissive and the dominant, and no real safety nets in place for the people who were bound up.