*note* the dom/sub tag is more of a “???dom/sub???” tag…

Cherry the Cheerleader is written for LuckyMann and is dedicated to him.

Chapter 3

“Where is she?! Where is my daughter?!” Cherry’s mother began interrogating me.
I remained calm and said, “She is where she is supposed to be: she is at school.”

Wishing to avoid creating a scene for the neighbors to gossip about, I motioned to the other doors close by and invited the clearly angry and worried woman inside to talk. I had a few questions of my own for her (like how she knew where to find my apartment, for one). She looked at the other apartment doors and understood what I was saying and agreed to come inside.

I turned to unlock my door and she couldn’t help but comment about the fresh injury from the day before.

“What the hell happened to you?” she asked without a hint of care to her tone.

It took a second for the question to register and make sense to me, but once it did, I just said, “Come in and I’ll tell you about it.”

Cherry’s mom entered and I closed the door before offering her something to drink. She turned it down flatly without even saying ‘thanks’ for the offer. Without skipping a beat, she continued giving me the third degree; a flood of questions pouring from her without waiting for answers from me. I was sizing her up subconsciously.

She asked, “What are you doing with my daughter? How did you even meet her? Where did she sleep in here? Did you sleep with her? Don’t you think you are too old for her? How old are you anyway?

There were more, but these are the questions that really resonated with me. I continued my evaluation of her as she continued the questioning and it became clear that I needed to be careful of what I told her because I was on extremely thin ice. Questions of my own began forming in my head: ‘why is she so upset that her daughter spent the night here? Even if she is still in school, she is still an adult, right? Then again, could that be what Cherry was trying to tell me about this morning? I decided to be slightly ‘less than honest’ with the answers if she ever decided to shut up long enough for me to answer one of them.

Eventually she began repeating questions and I held up a hand to signal her to take a breather. Remarkably, it worked.

I said, “Ma’am, I understand why you are so upset and I don’t blame you. From where you are standing, this might look bad. But I assure you it’s not what it seems. I met Cherry on an online dating site. We emailed, chatted, and quickly became good friends; that’s all (the last part was a blatant lie, but I wasn’t going to dump water on a grease fire). I asked Cherry to come over because of what happened at work yesterday. I’m a fireman and we were called to the scene of an accident—the worst I’ve ever seen. I helped pull a young girl out of the car. She was being flown by life flight to the hospital, but she died in transit; I was holding her hand at the time. I took it really hard and needed a friend to talk to. That’s all. Cherry slept on the couch.” The last sentence was technically true: she slept there with her head on my lap before we went to bed…

She asked, “That’s how you got the staples in your head?”
I replied, “Yeah; and the stitches in my shoulder.”

Cherry’s mom nodded slightly in understanding, but she was still not happy with me.

After what seemed like a long talk but actually only lasted about half an hour, Cherry’s mom seemed convinced that I was in complete agreement with her (because I lied my ass off) and we were on good terms when she left my apartment. After I closed the door behind her, I exhaled a large sigh of relief before going over everything in my head again. Ultimately, it didn’t matter to me that she didn’t want me hanging out with Cherry. She was my girlfriend and, as long as she wanted to be, she would remain my girlfriend. But we were going to have to take our relationship ‘underground’ for now.

Cherry’s mom had given me a lot to think about. I had every intention of continuing to see Cherry, of course, but things would be more complicated for sure. I found myself pacing around my apartment while trying to figure out how to handle a million different issues.

I never realized before then a habit that I had. When deep in thought, I evidently had a habit of running my hand over my head and down to the back of my neck as a way of self-massaging away tension. I became suddenly aware of the habit because every time my hand reached the back of my head, I found a bunch of staples with no small level of pain. The resulting effect was two-fold. For one, it rudely ended my minor relief of tension. Second (and worst of all), it served as a reminder about Katie, thus adding to my stress. It was almost like a cruel joke: when you have something unpleasant in the back of your mind—well, I had a literal reminder on the back of my head causing me both physical and mental pain. I couldn’t wait to talk to Cherry.

Just before 2:30 my phone dinged with a text message from the prettiest girl in the world. Cherry said that she needed to tell me some things and wanted to know if I could talk. I texted back ‘of course’ and waited for her call. Fifteen minutes later, my phone rang, but rather than a phone call, Cherry was calling with FaceTime.

Once the video came into focus, I answered by asking how her day was. She said it was ‘fine’ but she struggled because there was so much she needed to tell me. She spent the next ten minutes telling me what I had already discovered from her mom; including that as long as she was in school and living under her mom’s roof, that she was not allowed to date.

Finishing her ‘confession’ she apologized for not being completely honest about everything from the beginning. Explaining that she wanted to tell me but was worried about how I might take some of the news, Cherry said that ultimately she knew she had to tell me because she didn’t want our relationship to be built on any lies.

I let her finish all that she had to say and told her about how my day went. She was mortified to learn that her mom knew that she spent the night with me and even more so that she came to my apartment to confront me.

Cherry asked, “What I’m I going to say to her? She’s going to kill me!”
I said, “My advice is to tell her exactly what happened: that you answered the call of a friend in need and spent the night on the couch—just like I told her you did.”
Cherry smiled and said amused, “You liar!”
‘Defending myself’ I said, “If I had been honest, I’d be an honest dead man!”

Cherry laughed and agreed with my assessment. I gave her some more advice on what to say and what not to say when she got home and was confronted by her mom. To try and reduce how long she was going to be grounded—our stories needed to match perfectly. Just as we were finishing getting our stories straight, a girls voice from out of my view called out to her and said, ‘come on; we have to go or we’ll be late!’

Cherry said with an exaggerated frown, “I have to go to practice!”
“I understand: you have to have your priorities,” I teased her, implying cheerleading was evidently more important than me.
“HEY! That’s not fair!!!” Cherry protested while pretending to have been insulted.
I smiled and said, “You go practice! When can I see you again?”
She thought for a second and asked, “What are you doing Friday?”
I shook my head ‘no’ to indicate ‘nothing’ and she continued, “We have a home game: come and watch it! I’ll be cheering for it, of course, but we’ll get a few minutes at least…”
I said, “I’ll be there! What time?”
“Be here at 6:00?”
“I’ll be there,” I said.

A voice off camera screamed, “CHERRY! NOW!” She nearly jumped out of her skin and said quickly, “Gotta go!” before she kissed the camera on the phone and disconnected the call.

The conversation only lasted about 20 minutes, but I felt like I just got home from vacation. I felt so good that I decided to go and see how the guys at the firehouse were doing. On the drive there, my shirt was irritating my stitches and it had me once again thinking about little Katie. I parked on the side of the fire house and walked in to the shock of the other guys there. They were asking me how I was doing and I assured them I was ‘ok’ as we went on to talk about what was going on. A few minutes passed and Chief came passing through; stopping dead in his tracks when he saw me. I suddenly felt like the teenager sneaking out of his window late at night only to find his dad waiting for him on the other side.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Chief asked.
I said, “I was feeling ok and wanted to see what was going on.”
He barely waited me to finish talking before he said sternly, “My ass—you feel ok.”

The rest of the guys melted into the background and slinked away to find other things to do rather than witness what they thought was about to be an ass chewing (their feelings matched mine at that moment).

Chief continued, “You’re not ready. Come back when you are ready and not before. I don’t need you putting your life and the lives of anyone else at risk because you’re not 100%. I’m sure your head is telling you that you are ready. But if your heart starts taking over at the wrong time and makes decisions for you, then it’s bad for everyone. Coming here for a social visit just makes it take longer. Understand?”

I knew he was right and nodded my head—slightly embarrassed that I hadn’t thought of that myself. I asked, “How will I know for sure when I’m ready?”
Chief said matter-of-factly, “You’ll just know. You won’t wonder if you are ready: you will KNOW that you are ready.”

I put my hand out to shake hands and thank Chief for always giving me good advice. To my surprise, he took my hand and pulled me in for one of those ‘manly hug/slaps on the back’. Luckily for me it was the other shoulder with the stitches!

Before I turned to leave, Chief said, “We look forward to you coming back, but until then, get the fuck out of here.”
I smiled and said, “Roger that, Chief. Thanks.”

I left the station and, for lack of much else to do, I went for a drive. I considered going to watch Cherry practice, but figured her mom might be picking her up afterwards and it would not be good to have her catch me there after our talk earlier. Thoughts drifted back and forth between Cherry and Katie; the girl on the back of my mind at all times it seemed. After driving for a while, I suddenly realized that I was at the intersection of the accident and I pulled over to the side of the road to look at the scene. The car and debris had been removed, of course. There were still small pieces of glass all over the road, evidenced by the sunlight glinting off of them. I noticed for the first time that the truck’s tires didn’t start to make skid marks until it was at least 25 yards past the point of impact and I just shook my head in disbelief—he must have been going at the truck’s top speed. There were gouges in the pavement leading away from the intersection; no doubt from the engine block/transmission as it tumbled down the road. Cars were zipping along the road as if nothing significant had ever happened here. Life goes on, as they say.

Sitting at the intersection wasn’t doing me much good mentally, and it occurred to me that I was ‘still on the job’. Understanding Chief’s advice to ‘get the fuck out of here’ a little more thoroughly, I decided to just go back home and get some sleep. I figured Cherry wouldn’t be able to call after practice because she’d be getting picked up by her mom and receiving the riot act from her. After stripping down do my boxers, I plopped down in bed but figured I’d be awake for hours because I didn’t feel tired. Ironically, I was fast asleep within moments.

I slept deeply, thankfully; I clearly needed it. As I awoke, I was dimly aware of someone lightly, and with rhythm, tapping on my shoulder—the injured one. Knowing I SHOULD be alone in the apartment, I shot upright in surprise. Eyes now fully open and all senses on high alert, I saw I was just as alone as I was supposed to be. The tapping was my own heartbeat pulsing against my wounds. A few minutes later, I got a text from Cherry.

“Good morning <3! R U Up?”
I texted back, “Good morning! Yeah-just woke up. How’d it go last night?”
She responded, “Gr8. If U like being in prison ‘til U R 85! LOL!”
I texted back, “I’m sorry!”
She replied, “JK. Two weeks.”
“Could have been worse…” I responded.

Instead of texting back, Cherry opted to call me and filled me in on the details of what happened with her mom. She said her mom wasn’t really mad at her but just really ‘disappointed’. Cherry didn’t try to defend her actions or make excuses and that helped to defuse the situation—which is probably why she was only grounded for two weeks. It was going to be a long two weeks, but neither of us intended to go two weeks without seeing each other.

Cherry arrived at school and had to go; leaving me to my own devices. Not sure what to do with myself, I turned on my computer to go online. After staring at my default search engine’s home screen for about 5 minutes without a shred of inspiration of what to surf, I turned the computer off and set about doing busy work around the apartment. It’s amazing what you find when you have nothing better to do than clean your home. While dusting the tops of the kitchen cabinets (something I’d NEVER done since moving in) I found a one hundred dollar bill up there covered in god knows how many layers of dust! I certainly didn’t put it up there and I wondered how many tenants had moved in/out without having discovered it.

Growing tired of cleaning and not having much else to clean anyway, I decided to take a nap.

I was sound asleep when I felt someone tapping on my shoulder again. I opened my eyes and looked over my shoulder, knowing that it was just my heart beat and nothing more. To my utter shock, there was someone there this time: it was little Katie tapping at my shoulder. She looked just like she had in the car; eyes wide with pupils dilated and her body a bloody mess. I sat up to look at her and saw she was standing in a streak of blood and human flesh on the road.

“David?” she asked me weakly. “Where’s Momma? I can’t find her.”

I bolted awake from the nightmare with the war cry of a Marine in hand to hand combat. “GOD DAMN IT,” I screamed to my empty apartment once my pulse slowed a few beats. I had been doing really well with staying away from the alcohol since the accident, but that was a bit much for me to take—I grabbed a beer from the fridge and popped it open while turning on ESPN. I didn’t pay much attention to the TV, nor did I think about Katie or even Cherry—I just sat there with a blank mind. For lack of a better term: a meditative state.

About 20 minutes later, my cell phone rang and the sound snapped me back to reality. I answered it to hear the most beautiful voice on the other end.

Cherry said with no small amount of bounce in her voice, “Hey! How was your day? What are you doing?!”
I said, “I’m literally doing nothing right now,” opting to spare her the details of my crappy day.
She said, “Then why don’t you come and watch me practice?!”
Uncertain that would be a wise thing to do, I asked, “Won’t your mom be picking you up?”
Cherry answered, “Not today; I’m getting a ride from Olivia.”

I picked up my open beer and noticed I’d had only a few sips from it. “I’m on the way!” I said.

Before leaving, I quickly washed up and put on a clean shirt so I wouldn’t look or smell like a homeless man. The drive to her school seemed to take forever; I simply couldn’t wait to see her. My heart seemed to slowly increase in rate the closer I came to seeing my Cherry; the anticipation was almost unbearable.

Pulling into the school parking lot, I felt like the kid in grade school that was about to hand the first girl he ever liked the note that said ‘will you go out with me’ with an option boxed marked ‘yes’ and another box marked ‘no’. It was silly, of course, but that was the effect she had on me. I parked a respectable distance from the main building and saw a group of girls warming up near what was clearly the football practice field. I was able to pick Cherry out of the bunch from a distance easily; her red hair gave her away. She had it pulled up in a ponytail that sat high on the crown of her head. I’d never seen her with a ponytail before and it was absolutely adorable on her. She had not seen me yet and I watched from afar for a few minutes as though watching a wild animal in its natural environment.

The girls were going through their routines; making sure they had their choreography right. If anyone made a misstep or was out of time, they would reset and start over until they had it right. While a few of the girls seemed bored and others were clearly putting on false smiles, Cherry beamed a genuine smile that could be seen from half way across the expansive parking lot. She truly loved cheerleading—even practice. I was watching as they assumed a position that was somewhere in the middle of a routine to practice a particular move. Cherry had a girl with a frame similar to hers standing right in front of her. Cherry put her hands on the girls’ waist and the girl jumped up as Cherry tossed her straight up in the air. Almost in the same movement, Cherry moved under the girl as she landed in Cherry’s hands; standing on Cherry’s up-turned palms—at chest level. To my complete astonishment, Cherry then effortlessly pressed the girl up, extending her arms over her head! The girl was at least a hundred pounds and Cherry just tossed her over head and held her there like she was a blow-up doll! The girl stood on one leg and the other leg went over her head; toe in hand.

“Holly shit,” I caught myself saying out loud. I knew she was strong but I didn’t know she could lift someone over her head like that! After a few moments, she let the girl fall and caught her on the way down. That was just as impressive as tossing her in the air in the first place—the girl has momentum on the way down (and therefore effectively heavier)!

Seeing Cherry practice while unaware of my presence was for some reason therapeutic. She was so energetic and full of life while around me that I wasn’t sure if it was simply a show for my benefit. But I could see now that it was just her natural personality and I loved that about her. Before I realized it, I had walked towards (or perhaps drawn like a magnet to) where they were practicing and Cherry spotted me. Her already wide smile became even wider and she waved to me enthusiastically. She motioned me over to her but I resisted; not wanting to disturb them. She came bounding over to me like she was impersonating Tigger, grabbed my hand, and pulled me over to meet the others.

Cherry said, “Guys: this is David,” and then pointed out each of the girls by name. They were all wearing a variation of the same thing: skin tight yoga shorts, a tight tank top of varying colors, and white sneakers. Olivia was the only one I would remember and that was because I knew her from before. A few of the girls eyed me either knowingly or suspiciously—which one it was, I wasn’t certain—and I wondered how much information Cherry had shared with her friends.

One of the girls said, “We hear you are a fireman. Is that true?”
I confirmed the ‘rumor’ and said, “Yeah; I am.”
Another girl hiding behind the others asked, “Ever do a calendar?” That incited laughs and giggles typical of girls their age.
I chuckled and said, “No—I’ve never posed for a calendar.”
“Oh. Too bad…” another voice said.
Cherry just rolled her eyes at them and gave a resigned, yet slightly amused, groan of disgust.

The attention was flattering but a little embarrassing at the same time. I said I was going to watch from a spot several yards away. As I was taking my spot, Olivia took charge of the girls.

“Ok: break’s over! Give me 30 more good minutes and we’ll call it a day,” she said.

The rest of the girls did as she said and that was when I figured out that Olivia was the head cheerleader. As I watched Cherry and the other girls perform, it started to make sense why Olivia had been the one giving Cherry a ride when she needed it. She was learning to be a leader and probably felt responsible for Cherry’s safety. I admired that it in her.

They went through several routines and, if any mistakes were made, I couldn’t tell. Olivia would critique one girl or another after a routine, but I never knew what she was talking about. Cherry never received any criticism for her performances. In my mind, that was because Cherry was flawless in all aspects!

It was actually about 40 minutes before Olivia decided that they had done enough for the day and called it quits. They scheduled their next practice before going in separate directions. The direction Cherry took was no surprise: she trotted over to me and nearly tackled me before I could stand up.

“So, what did you think?” she asked.
“You were incredible! You toss that girl over your head and hold her there like she is weightless!”
She said, “She’s not that heavy.”
I said, “Don’t be modest: she’s at least a hundred pounds and I’d be surprised if you were much more than that yourself.”
“I’m about 15 pounds more than her, I think,” Cherry said.
“Well, I don’t know where you have those extra pounds over her—you look the same size to me.”

Without a word, Cherry pointed to her boobs with each hand, suggesting where some of her ‘extra’ weight was located. It hadn’t dawned on me before she did that the other girl had almost no breasts to speak of. And it was only then that I realized Cherry was squeezed into a sports bra that was so tight that it made her chest appear much smaller than they actually were.

Understanding, I said, “Ah; right. Well, if you are going to have ‘extra pounds’, that’s a good place for them!”
Cherry scoffed and punched my arm while calling me a ‘pig’.
I said, “Maybe, but I’m your pig.”
“AWWW, that’s so cute! Yes you are,” she said while hugging my arm and then resting her head on my shoulder.

We sat there for a few minutes just enjoying the closeness of each other while watching the world go by. Without warning, Cherry jumped to her feet and was pulling me up with her—the suddenness of her action caused me to flinch in surprise the way one does while watching a horror movie for the first time.

“Come on! Let’s go for a walk!” she ‘suggested’.
A response from me was neither needed nor wanted.

Cherry continued to hug onto my arm as we strolled around the school campus. We walked so close that I had to be careful not to step on her feet. It was amazing at how comfortable we were with each other already. We’d only been dating a short while, but there was nothing I couldn’t say to her and she felt the same way. Expressing our feelings for one another felt like the most natural thing to do and we did it without fear of judgment or rejection. For me, Cherry was the ‘gold standard’ in women: the one to which all others would be compared. And that standard was much more than something as trivial as looks; it was also her friendly and cheerful personality. But most importantly, it was how she made me feel. I felt like Cherry was supposed to be a part of my life from the very beginning and until the very end. I didn’t feel complete without her next to me and as long as she was near me, the world was a carefree place.

It felt like Cherry was leading us to someplace but I didn’t know where. At the same time, it seemed like she didn’t know either; like she was searching. Thinking it was my imagination, I said nothing. It became clear that we were heading for the far end of the parking lot that bordered on several acres of land that was overgrown with trees and underbrush/woods.

I finally asked, “Where are we going?”
Cherry answered, “There are trails over here for the biology class. We go and find different species of plants and have to pick samples to label for lab. I want to show you some pretty flowers that are back there.”

Once we were into the trails, I realized that we had a good level of privacy in there and I began to wonder if she didn’t have an ulterior motive for exploring them. We reached an open area and she stopped, pivoting on her toes to face me, feet together, before landing her heels back down to the ground.

Looking up at me, she asked, “If you could have anything in the world at this moment, what would it be?”
I looked her in the eyes and said, “I already have it: the most beautiful vision the world has to offer.”
She said, “That was a good answer. You win a prize…”
Liking where this seemed to be going, I asked, “Oh yeah? What do I win?”
She said, “It’s a surprise. You have to turn around and close your eyes—no peeking!”

Getting excited, I did as she asked. I could hear movement from her, but couldn’t tell what she was doing. A few moments later, she told me to turn back around but to keep my eyes closed. Again I did as she said while smiling ear to ear. She stuffed her hand into my front pocket and the look on my face was replaced with one of confusion. She said I could open my eyes and when I did, nothing seemed out of order.

“What was that?” I asked her.
Cryptically she answered, “That was your prize; just a small gift that I wanted you to have.”
“Can I look at it?”
She said, “Not now—you have to wait until you get home. Promise you won’t look until then!”

I promised not to look while having mixed feelings about receiving a gift at that moment: on one hand I’d hoped she was getting naked and on the other hand I was touched that she had thought of me while buying something for me. I also felt a little bad that I had not purchased a gift for her. Sensing my mixed feelings she asked what was wrong. I told her what I was thinking and she had the answer for me.

She said, “There is something you can give me that I would love!”
I said, “Really? What is that?”
She said, “I’ve always wanted a strand of pearls!”
I said, “I don’t know: pearls are expensive. I don’t know if I can afford them. But I’ll do some shopping and…”
Shaking her head, she said, “Pearls aren’t expensive if you know where to get them.”

Before I could figure out what she was talking about, she grabbed the waist of my jeans and pulled me to her. Looking me in the eyes, her hands began working the button and zipper. The light bulb over my head flashed on and I couldn’t believe her dirty mind (and my luck)! Cherry finished pulling my package out of my boxers and it was reporting for duty. She said she didn’t want to get any on her top, so she removed her tank top and sports bra. Once the bra came off, it seemed almost a miracle that she was able to fit her chest inside of it. Then she doubled down on how kinky she could be by using her bra to ‘tie’ her own hands behind her back. Truthfully, she just slipped her bra over her wrists and then twisted them around in circles to tighten it—she was able to remove her impromptu bondage anytime she wanted. She knelt down, looked up at me, and opened her mouth slightly. She was waiting for me to move towards her as opposed to taking me herself.

I moved forward and the head of my dick made contact with her lips. Cherry didn’t move; not even to open her mouth wider. I pushed forward some more and her teeth deflected my cock to the side. Understanding her game of her being the ‘submissive one’, I told her to open her mouth more. She complied, but only technically; her mouth barely opened at all. I tried pushing forward again, but this time her head retreated backwards against the pressure on her lips. She never took her wanting eyes off of mine. Finally, I put my hand on the back of her head and kept her from moving back. This time my full member pushed in and she opened to allow it. Thinking I had finished the ‘game’ I took my hand off of her and waited for her to go to work on my unit the way she did in the bathroom at the mall. Instead, she just sat there looking at me with my cock in her mouth—her lips not even closed around it. I told her to close her mouth and she complied. Then I gently grabbed her by the head and guided her back and forth. Through her lips around my cock she said, ‘MMM-HMM’, indicating I’d figured out what she wanted me to do. It was a bit ironic because she was playing the submissive part, but in reality, she was in total control here.

If I stopped moving her head for her, the mind bending blowjob would come to a halt until I moved her again. She kept her hands ‘tied’ behind her the entire time and not once did she looked away from me. She wanted me to go as fast or slow, as deep or shallow as I wanted. My orgasm was building fast at the kinkiness of the scene and I had to remember not to blow in her mouth: she wanted a pearl necklace, after all!

My balls began to tighten and I could feel the orgasm was imminent. I pulled her off of me and had her lay down in the grass. I straddled her stomach and put my cock in the valley between her beautiful tits. The first strand blasted forth and made a spectacular line from the center of her chest to her right collar bone. Not a moment later, the second spurt shot out, making a trail to the left side of her neck. The remaining strands fell at the center mark, tying the two large strands together and it was (not to brag) honestly one of the best ‘pearl necklaces’ I’d ever seen (and I’d seen more than a few on line).

I moved from over the top of Cherry and she looked down at my work.

She said, “OOOOOH! I love it! Quick: take a picture!”

As I grabbed my phone, she removed her self-imposed binding on her wrists, pulled her hair from her ponytail and fluffed it out before she struck a pose as if it was an actual strand of pearls she was wearing. Her head turned to the side and slightly down while holding her hand flat near (but not quite touching) her chest—fingers almost contacting the dollops of gooey pearls. I took several pictures on my phone and she had me take a few with hers.

“Let me see!” she said.

I handed her the phones and she beamed in delight.

“Oh, David—It’s beautiful! I actually feel pretty wearing it!”

I laughed but the funny part was: she wasn’t joking! She gave me a sweet and lingering kiss and actually THANKED me for her ‘gift’. I couldn’t help but wonder how I ended up with the coolest girlfriend in the world.

The sun was starting to get low in the sky and Cherry’s phone dinged; it was Olivia asking where she was. Cherry texted back that she would be there in a few minutes. She didn’t want to wipe away the ‘gift’ I gave her, but she couldn’t exactly go home wearing it either. Taking comfort in having the pictures to remember it, she rubbed the white globs into her chest as if it was skin lotion. My shrinking erection came back in full force at the site of her doing that.

I said, “Look at what you just did to me! How am I supposed to walk out of here like this?!”
She looked at my waiting cock and said, “Oh, poor baby! I’m sorry! Here: let me fix it.”

Without a moment of hesitation, she went right back to giving me another blowjob. Except this time she was in full control without the games. In an instant she took me in her mouth. She bobbed back and forth a few times before taking a deep breath and plunging herself down forcefully until her nose was smashed into my pelvis. She held it for a few seconds and came up gasping for a single breath of air before going right back down again. She bobbed twice and had to come up for air again. She looked up at me and her eyes were flooded and almost pouring over with gag reflex tears. After a few more tentative bobs back and forth, she repeated her deep throat action; making it a goal to last longer each time. The hardcore action was producing the lewd ‘gluck-gluck-gluck’ sound found in so many graphic porn videos dedicated to such content. My Cherry was the “Gold Standard”, for sure! She had it all: she was fun, sweet, friendly, beautiful, and smart. She looked like a sweet and innocent girl but could be a porn star when it came to sex!

My second orgasm hit quickly and without notice to me! Cherry took the full load and savored it before swallowing it down. I told her that I couldn’t believe how amazing she was and she returned the compliment. I found that ‘funny’ since she was the one that did all of the work and I was the one to get all of the benefits this time!

With my cock returning to ‘normal’ mode, Cherry stood and got dressed while I put the soldier away. We walked out from the trail hand in hand as if we had just taken the most innocent walk through a nature trail as any two people could take.

Before getting in Olivia’s car Cherry thanked me for the lovely time and I told her it was my pleasure (and that was certainly the truth!). Driving home, I was on such a natural high that I couldn’t have told you why I had the day off from work that day. I was literally humming love songs to myself (which is completely out of character for me; I’m a hard rock fan)!

I got to my apartment and when I went to get undressed, I noticed a bulge in my front pocket. It was only then that I remembered Cherry gave me a gift. I pulled the mystery item out and a new picture of what happened while my back was turned was painted in my mind in an instant. I was holding Cherry’s lace panties.

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