You've Got Another Thing Coming

As much fun as it is walking into a cloud of oppressive music, Cherokee and I felt better when we actually paid attention to where we were going and what, for lack of a better expression, we were going to be attacked by next.
As this had been the main mode d’activitée throughout this entire story I’ll try and not bore you to death with details. I shall just…torture you a bit.

What you might be interested in knowing, though, is that Cherokee was a very apt survival guide through wilderness. He gathered different foodstuffs as we rambled along quite interesting-looking bushes, trees and fast-food diners. At one point a black-clad figure jumped out from behind a juniper bush and loudly yelled “NI!” at us, but after a couple of embarrassing silences, he popped back down again. This being a normal feature of the peculiar flora and fauna, as Cherokee explained it, we did not linger but hurried along, a bit quicker than before.

After some odd amounts of time I poked my husband in the side. “You do realize that you’ve completely forgot to tell me where we’re going,” said I, and as an afterthought added, “again?” He nodded solemnly in his best impression of himself. “Good,” I sighed. “Just as long as you’re aware.”

Expecting nothing more I carried on quietly, seeing as he was running around in torn, bloody clothes and a general unkempt appearance, an ever growing foul mood and pinkish cheeks. I had previously – a bit clumsily, I admit - suggested we should ask the black-clad figure for directions, and he hadn’t taken to it too well. A wicked thought entered my mind and I found myself wanting to push his buttons.

“Just as long as you’re aware of the fact that you’re neglecting your wife and have so far been unable to give her clean clothes and the bath she so badly needs.” I paused, lifted my arm and took a careful sniff and was staggered – thought for another bit and supplied, “However, I do not crave a bath as badly as I crave chocolate which – and I say this with only your own well-meaning at heart – have also failed to be set before me.”

Without so much as setting his eyes upon me (but his wonderful, characteristic bad lunch-face growing badder) Cherokee pointed at a tree a few feet to our right. “There are chocolate-trees over there that you can scavenge and there is a river some way in front of us. You could easily bathe there.”

Before I had any time to sourly comment that – however much womankind would like it, chocolate did in fact not grow on trees – Cherokee walked over to one of the trees and hit the trunk with a fist like the wrath of Gods. Nut-sized items wrapped in colorful aluminum foil fell like rain down on his head. He picked up a handful and, having walked over to me and ordered me to hold out my hands, tipped them into my awaiting palms. I un-wrapped a red, shiny one and stared at the piece of pure, delicious treat in wonder.

I popped it in my mouth.
I died a little.

When the fogs of ecstasy cleared up a bit, I stopped moaning with pleasure and came down from cloud number nine in order to glare at my shocked husband.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me about the chocolate trees before?” I demanded. He shook off his bafflement and shrugged. “You’ve never mentioned you like it.”

Shyly - and this alone took me by the tongue and hurled me around ninety degrees - he asked, “Did you like them?”

“Everybody likes chocolate,” I said, a bit stunned. “But yes, I did like them.” I glanced at the colorful pieces in my hands. “They’re much tastier than the ones I’m used to.” Which was true, as far as I was concerned. Eating one was like dying after living a pious life full of horrors and pain and ending up in a Paradise fifty times better than the Book had described it.

He smiled beatifically at my response in a way I’d come to know and love and despair of. His mood swings were worse than mine, and that’s saying something. Waiting for something to say, I popped another chocolate between my greedy, salivating jaws and experienced a small orgasm of chocolate-y bliss. When the sensation died away I opened my eyes lazily and stretched my limbs lustily, while moaning ecstatically.

Then I choked on my breath.

Both my eyes and my mind boggled at the view of Cherokee happily hopping along a few meters in front of me, whistling a merry tune and pulling off all his clothes in the process.
Without even looking back at me he scattered his fashionable, torn attires and made his way up a small, small hill. When he reached the top he bent his knees, pulled his elbows to his side, did a two-footed jump – and disappeared.

“Gah?” I managed to say before a sound very much like a splash, and then a scream cut off any logical responses and had my legs running before my brain even realized what was going on.

Having reached the top of the tiny hill myself, I saw the aforementioned river gently running along its base, and a very happy, wet and – and this is important, you understand – a very naked Cherokee was splashing along in the stream. The water barely made any sound, which was quite astounding seeing as it was quite a large river, but Cherokee made up for that by hooting, whistling and generally – and this is important, you understand – being naked.

I found the need to quote a very famous saying and exclaimed, “Bah?” in a very surprised voice. Cherokee managed to hear this over his own splashing, crying and being naked, and he waved at me.

“It’s cold, but quite nice!” he told me, teeth glittering in the sunshine.

“Fah?” I eloquently asked, and got a cheeky look in return. He said nothing but swam further out. I made my way to the base of the hill without looking at my feet – seeing as Cherokee was, and this is important, you understand, naked – and stood on the river bank shading my eyes from the glaring light.

He turned and swam back at me, and now and then a glistening buttock would penetrate the surface of the water.
“Won’t you swim with me?” he asked slyly, standing with water up to his belly button a few meters away and looking like a mythic Water God.

“Maha,” I said to the apparition of perfect male beauty and began shrugging out of my shirt. But my brain, having had a wonderful vacation in La-La-Land, kicked in just in time before I tugged the shirt over my head and I released the hems and blushed furiously. “Ngh”, I explained, and Cherokee smiled seductively in response. “You don’t have to be embarrassed when you’re with me,” he told me and took another step towards me and awaiting exposure. My breath hitched, startling me into speaking.

“You’re naked,” I blurted.

He just smiled and shrugged. “That’s the way I was born. I don’t see any need to get red in the face about it.”

“I’m not red,” I huffed, momentarily thrown back on my mental track.

He narrowed his eyes jauntily and gave me another view of his perfect dentures. “Nah,” he admitted. “You’re nearing maroon now.”

I couldn’t help but snort sarcastically at this, but as he took another step towards me I felt a hot wave surge through my body and reach for my face; something, I noticed now as an afterthought, that had been happening quite a lot the last couple of minutes.

“Okay,” I gave in. “But I’m not used to having guys prance around in front of me clad in nothing but their birthday suit.”

Cherokee shrugged again and let a hand run through his wet hair, where it caught and he made a face as he tugged at his tousled tresses. As I laughed he undid the mess and, seeming intent on wiping the smug smile off my face, walked up to me and grasped me around the waist.

My heart skipped a beat and the laugh died in my throat as he leaned down and brushed his lips softly against mine, pressing himself against me. I immediately responded to the kiss and as it deepened, his hands went to my shirt, tugging it over my head and tossing it aside carelessly.

He leaned back and cupped my face in his hands, gazing momentarily into my own eyes.
“So beautiful,” he whispered, and my heart melted faster than delicious chocolate near a PMS:ing teenage girl. I pulled him towards me and kissed him fervently, letting my hands roam his naked, cold torso. He began unbuttoning my trousers but fumbled with the belt and I took over, ungracefully tugging them over my hips and violently kicking them away.

He resumed kissing me and let his lips wander down my neck, nibbling and sucking and generally making me moan loudly.
His arms tightened around my body as his lips traced wet kisses to my ear. He inhaled through his nose and softly blew air in my ear. With a voice in a hoarse whisper, he murmured huskily something unintelligible.

I had my eyes closed as I leaned back and breathlessly asked him to repeat what he had said.

“You stink,” he said, and tossed me head-first into the freezing water.