Growing up, Cherry had little more than her looks, but she learned at a young age to take full advantage of what she had. An early bloomer, she was out of a training bra and already had a figure by the age of twelve. She quickly learned that the more she blossomed, the nicer boys and men tended to treat her. She also learned that they were even more helpful to her in the summer when hot temperatures allowed her to wear less and show more skin. Daisy dukes and a bikini top or a t-shirt, cut off to just under her breasts, was her usual apparel on an average day. When she wore such, men and boys from six to sixty always seemed to vie for her attention. It flattered her how grown men would take such an interest in her, telling her how pretty she was and what a beautiful woman she was going to be one day. Men like Preacher Dan down at the church. Or Officer Raye, who rarely missed a chance to pull his patrol car over to talk sweet to her. Even Mister Whittle, who owned the corner convenience store, gave her free candy and soda, but strangely, only when no one else was around. If she allowed any kind of physical contact, a touch of the hand, a pat on the knee, or especially a friendly hug, squeezing her developing breasts tight to them, they were, not surprisingly, even nicer.
Little Cherry Gilbert was neither naïve nor stupid. She knew what they wanted, and she enjoyed the attention. For the first time in her life, she felt special. What she’d craved at home, she now got from elsewhere. At age thirteen, while her big brother was passed out from drinking moonshine on the bed beside them, she lost her virginity to his nineteen-year-old friend. To ensure her silence … and avoid a probable jail sentence … the young man had given her his gold necklace. Like a divine revelation, she suddenly saw her path out of Goose Spit. From this point on, she would quickly learn how easy it was to parlay that woman-in-a-little-girl sexuality into things she’d always wanted, but could never have.
High school came, and free candy and soft drinks soon gave way to more expensive gifts. Any boy wanting to date her had better be prepared to come off his wallet. You were not only going to have to wine and dine this lovely young thing but lavish her with expensive trinkets: Rings and jewelry, the latest in fashionable clothing, the newest PDCs. What her father could never give her, now came so easily from young, smitten, starry-eyed men.
By her senior year, she’d pretty much drained all the resources of the male student body at tiny little Goose Spit High, but by that time, she’d already moved on to college boys and real men who could lavish her with gifts of significant value. As a cheerleader, she discovered that a pretty girl in a colorful, skimpy outfit drew plenty of much-wanted male attention. By the time she’d graduated, the poor little country girl was driving a new hovercar and wearing clothes most of the wealthier girls in town couldn’t even afford.
But her big break came when she won the school’s beauty pageant, which qualified her for the big Miss Rocket City pageant up in Huntsville. The folks up in the big city never saw the girl from Goose Spit coming. A lifetime of performing for her supper was put to good use as she captivated the judges and the audience, not only walking away with the crown but the full scholarship to the University that came with it. Cherry Gilbert had seen the last of little Goose Spit.
In college, she would find her destiny. In the free-spirited, liberal-thinking universe of academia, an already worldly small-town girl was able to spread her carnal wings and soar. It was in college that she would first taste the delights of group sex and the soft, sensual pleasures of other women. It was while attending an “anything goes” sex party her sophomore year that she would be introduced to a business student by the name of Shelby Denton.
Although young Shelby was plenty handsome and shared similar sexual desires, it wasn’t just his looks and tendencies that attracted her. Coming from a wealthy Huntsville family, his financial future was assured. But he also exuded raw ambition too. His desire for power was like a drug to Cherry, intoxicating and seducing in its effect. At the same time, he saw in her the perfect trophy wife, another tool to use in his quest for power and glory. A beautiful blonde hanging off his arm made them the ideal couple in the eyes of the public and press. It was love at first sight and the perfect marriage for two ambitious young college kids looking to rule the world one day.
The high heels click-clacked across the polished marble floor as she walked across it, a wineglass dangling from long, delicate fingers, tipped with black-polished nails. She still walked as if she owned the stage of a beauty pageant, one leg swinging around in front of the other, knees lifting high, exaggerating the hypnotic swing of her hips. She moved almost in slow motion across the floor, yet at the same time, those long legs covered ground with a surprising clip. Sitting down on the couch beside her husband, she made a show of crossing them, as she eyed Frost and Cutter with obvious amusement.
“Me-fuckin’-yow! You boys are worse than a dorm full of sorority sisters trying to out-meanie one another.” Tucking her chin into
