316 Rose Rd (A Cherry Falls Romance)

I dress myself hurriedly once more, gather my toiletries and my towel, and pick my way across the darkening campsite towards the showers. Luckily, it’s quiet, and I doubt that I am going to run into anyone while I’m getting changed. I might not be a prude, but there are still some of the remnants of being a preacher’s daughter stuck to my brain, and I don’t much like the idea of having other random people see me naked.

By the time that I reach the showers, I’m shivering a little, and praying that the water is going to be hot enough to ward off the chill that has settled in around me. It’s quiet inside the building, and I switch the water on and watch the steam course up at once.

I strip down quickly, as though I am about to be caught at any moment, and slide beneath the water. Mmm. It feels so good, the warmth of it curling over my skin. I can’t remember the last time that I enjoyed a shower so much.

Relaxing for the first time since I arrived at the campgrounds, I lean against the wall of the shower, letting the hot water run over me. With eyes closed, I let my mind wander.

It wanders straight to Cliff.

I can almost picture his fingers on my skin, tracing down the water lines left on my body.

No! I try to push his image to the back of my mind, but it’s too late, it’s taken root there, and the shock of it is almost more than I can take. I feel as though I am doing something that I shouldn’t be, picturing him like this, but it’s not as though I can just turn off the want that is pulsing through me right now.

I can feel that desire getting the better of me, even though I know that I should push it down. I barely know him. And yet, the thought of his hands on my body right now is getting me friskier than anything that the vibrator was able to do for me.

I move my hand between my legs, grateful for the shower curtain’s privacy, not that anyone is here. My pussy is soaked – in a way that it hasn’t been in the whole time that I was using that vibrator. I can’t help but let out a little moan of delight, the sound of it circling around me, filling the space as though I own it.

My fingers move against my clit, my nub already a little swollen at the thought of his hands all over me. His mouth on mine. I imagine his tongue tracing down my neck, over my shoulders, down, down, down – my nipples are hardening, growing fuller under the water, and I push a finger inside of myself, gasping loudly.

Yes, yes, yes. I can feel the pleasure starting to stir up from deep within me. The rise of it, the demanding presence of it, the way that it feels, the way that it consumes me… I picture his hand between my legs instead of my own, the way that it would move against my skin – the way that he would touch me as though he knew that he owned me, as though he knew that I belonged to him.

His rough hands moving across my body, gripping tight and groping me, making sure that I understood that every inch of pleasure that I was allowed came from him and him alone...

I move another finger inside of myself and start to grind against my hand. I am getting close. I can feel it. I have never gotten this close before in my life, but I know that I am drawing there now. The muscles on the insides of my thighs twitch, and I grit my teeth to try and contain another moan, but it rises out of me before I am able to stop it.

I don’t care. I just want to let this rush over me, let this take control of me. I have been waiting for too long to stop now. I can almost feel the roughness of his fingers between my legs, setting the pace, making sure that I know just what is good for me–

"Hello?”

A voice cuts through my reverie, and my eyes snap open. I instantly feel blood rush to my face. Who the hell is that? How the hell am I going to explain this? Whoever this is, they just walked in on me basically humping my hand right here in the middle of the communal shower area.

I turn off the water and reach for my towel, snatching it up at once and wrapping it around myself. I don’t have time to get dressed. I just need to get out. Whoever it is, I don’t want them to get a good look at me. I round the corner, eyes fixed on the floor, and, of course...