Trapped (Part 1)
A Paid Exclusive: Ash joins the club
The glowing embers were the only remnants of the ceremony. I poked them with the stick I’d found on our hike earlier, watching the last of the party walk away, climbing the stairs to heaven. Behind me, soft lights flickered on one by one as each of my new friends began to get ready for bed. I turned, watched Patti’s slender form climb the steps, her black shorts barely covering her perfect ass. I watched her move, each step, one after the other, how her legs moved, how her shorts shifted, revealing just a little of her bottom, and I wondered.
A soft breeze sent goosebumps crawling across my arms, and I shivered, turned back to what had once been a roaring fire, a dozen screaming, chanting, wine-swilling women dancing around mostly naked for hours. I smiled, thankful for the invite - my first time with these cool chicas and what I hoped would become my tribe.
“Still out here?” It was Melanie. She lingered in her hiking shorts and boots, tank top, her dirty blonde hair pulled up in a ponytail. She hadn’t changed after the hike, said she liked the sweat, liked to feel the dirt under her short, chewed nails. It meant she was alive. Maybe she was gay. My gaydar was mostly non-functional, but she had the look of a priss, a girl who could wear a ball gown with the best of them, so I wasn’t sure what she, who she was into. She settled in beside me on the weathered log, cast a glance at the fire and turned to me. “Fire’s almost out.”
“Yeah, just wanna make sure the fire is out. You know - forest fires and all. Wouldn’t want this place to go up in smoke.” I offered a sort of chuckle, a smile, and watched the light dancing in her emerald green eyes.
“Good. Important, for sure. We don’t want the fire to go out.”
“I mean.” I looked away, swallowed. I poked the embers again, moving them around a little more to let them cool. “I mean, if the fire doesn’t go out, I’m just gonna be stuck out here.”
“Hmm,” she grunted, her eyes still on me. I didn’t want to look back over, but something was tugging at me to find those green eyes again, that crooked way I’d seen her smile, the one I knew was directed my way now. “Dangerous out here all alone.”
I nodded, still fixated on the embers, inhaling the scent of charred wood all around, the pine, my own sweaty pits, Melanie’s wine-laced breath. We’d danced and drank, and sang and drank, and danced and chanted and drank. The wine fridge was stocked, and the pinot noir was on point, I had to admit. Give me a heavy pour, a heady pour, a song and a frolic with a chorus of beautiful half-naked women in the deep woods on a night when the moon is just a sliver and the Universe is looking down on you.