Smooth and shiny, burgundy globes, the feel against your lips and the unmistakable scent making you salivate before you pop them in. The slender woody stalks in your fingers. Your tongue searching your mouth for stones.
There's something about cherries, something vaguely sexual.
A memory of teenage girls trying to tie stalks with their tongues as a party trick to impress guys.
What makes us always picture them in two's? Do they naturally grow that way? Or has some marketing guru implanted the image in our collective minds?
Why do three pairs of cherries make a jackpot?
They've always reminded me of tiny little bottoms, smoothly curving, dimpled and succulent.
These thoughts, and others pass through your mind as you see the picture on the card in your hand. It perfectly matches the image on the door in front of you. Two pairs of cherries?
You stand at a decision point, matching the pictures and wondering whether you dare proceed. Outside of the door you can remain yourself, wondering in ignorance what might have been.
It is a safe thought, but you always were one to push yourself.
Inside the door lays forbidden promise. An opportunity not to be missed. Temptation builds. There is nothing to stop you but yourself. Why? Why not?
"Fuck it" you murmur, push the door handle down and take the first stride into a new part of your life.
Your journey started weeks ago at a communal swimming pool, centrally located, belonging to a resort style complex, including apartment blocks. Your ex-boyfriend was becoming crushingly dependent and it was time to move out of his place. The viewing went well, right space, right location, but then, wrong price.
A mis-print in the ad she'd said,
"I'll show you why it's worth the extra," she'd said.
And then came the tour of the gym, sauna and pool.
Beautiful, well kept, but seriously expensive. Well beyond your means.
The agent, Andi, was young, perhaps 25, slim and blonde. She had a happy go lucky air to her, with an assumption that 'of course you could afford it', never doubting for a moment that it was your kind of place.
It was, but the price ...
"I'll take it," you blurted out. That impetuous streak would have consequences you could never have imagined.
Move-in day came and went, your life felt brighter for the change. The time was right and with this new place, you'd soon be the envy of all of your friends.
It was a Sunday, you'd woken early in bright sunlight and thought it time to make the most of that pool.
You put on your fancy cossie - there was no telling who you might bump into and you didn't want to be caught off-guard in your old swimwear.
You watched the other bathers as you put in some lengths, everything pale blue through your goggles.
There was a good looking older guy, tanned, hair slightly receding, but underwater - a pot-belly. Nope.
Another, younger, muscular, but when he got out you saw just how short he was. Nope.
People watching, your second favourite pastime.
Just as you were finishing up, in walked a younger blonde, wait, was that Andi? What was she doing here? You thought she was just the estate agent, did she live there too?
Her skimpy costume gave you a great view of her figure. Wide hips, toned tummy, bright smile.
Shit.
She was looking at you.
You acted casual as she came over, looking you up and down. Thank heavens for the smart swimwear choice.
"Hey, great to see you" she said.
"Hi there."
"So you're all moved in then, I told you it's a great place, huh?"
"Yup, I love it. Best decision I ever made" you replied. "My friends are constantly coming over to check it out."
"Get used to it, the social life is pretty hectic here. Hey, do ya wanna come over for coffee later this morning?"
And that had been it. Of course you were going to go over, you couldn't have lived without knowing if her place was bigger than yours. Or better decorated.
You were a little taken aback because the door was answered by a man. Not just a man, in fact a tall, muscular chiselled chunk of manhood, the kind that makes you weak at the knees.
