Bliss
I twirl my fork around in my pasta with a goofy smile still plastered on my face. Heat spreads through my cheeks remembering Cuba and my shower hours ago. I just want to run around and do flips but I can’t, so I do a little dance in my mind. Cuba seemed a little annoyed when I said I had dinner plans, he wanted me to come over after we finished dressing, but I couldn’t cancel. Maybe I should have eased his mind and told him I was just having dinner with my dad, but part of me likes to think he’s jealous. Although, he has no reason to be, because gosh, that tutoring session was better than all the rest because they never ended in mind blowing orgasms.
“Bliss, did you even hear what I said?”
I snap out of it and look up at my dad, his salt and pepper eyebrows drawing together.
“Huh?” I didn’t hear anything. “No,” I admit.
He takes a sip of his wine. “I said that maybe you should look into law school again.”
Here he goes, he still can’t get over the fact that I’m going to be a teacher. He wants me to go to law school, follow in his footsteps, I mentioned law school when I was eight and he has not let it go since.
It’s my turn to take a sip of my wine, but instead, I take a gulp and swallow. “Dad, I don’t want to be an attorney. We went over this.”
“Yes, but have you ever considered being a cultural property attorney?”
He’s been researching again. “I was talking to Brian’s son, Kevin, and he was telling me that he was learning about that option in class.” He continues to ramble on. My dad has a super hard on for Kevin, a guy that I met once at a company party, he is nowhere near my type. He’s so much like my dad, and I’m so much like my mom. I need to be able to breathe and be free. Kevin suffocated me with just one conversation.
“Dad,” I stop him and give him a sad smile. “Why can’t we just agree to disagree? Don’t you want me happy?”
He looks shocked. “Of course, baby girl. I just want the best for you.”
“I know but neither law school or Kevin is best for me.” I don’t even know if Cuba is best for me.
“I didn’t bring up Kevin like that, just what he was telling me. He has a girlfriend, anyway.” He rolls his eyes. “I talked to your mom.”
I shrug. “Okay.”
“How are your tutoring sessions going?”
My mom has a big mouth. “And like I told mom, he’s no one.” No one I can say is my boyfriend, and I can’t say it’s complicated. Although, it’s so complicated with him calling me baby, and I like it… too much. He’s not promising me anything, I need to keep my feelings in line.
“Well, if he does become someone, I hope he’s better than the baseball player, he was an idiot.”
I laugh. “Yeah, he still is.”
We change the subject to his work and he tells me about the new cases he’s handling. Watching my dad talk about his work is what I imagine it’s like when I talk about my studies, his face just lights up and he can’t stop rambling. Then his phone rings and I can tell by the look on his face that it’s probably work. As much as my dad loves his job, he loves spending time with me more, that’s what he always tells me. I’m always more important.
I nod, letting him know it’s okay to answer it and he leaves the table with his phone pressed to his ear.
Taking this time, I pull my cell out of my purse and I’m surprised to see a text from Cuba, he rarely ever texts me or texts back.
Cuba: How is your date going?
Me: Ending early. What are you doing?
I look up to see my dad still on the phone outside the restaurant, there is a lot of head nodding, and I can only assume that he needs to go back to the office, at least he got some food in him.
My phone vibrates in my hand bringing my attention back to the screen.
Cuba: Another clown?
Cuba: Nothing, watching T.V.
Me: Alone or are you on a date yourself?
I delete it.
Me: Anything good?
Cuba: Come find out.
Tingles spread to my girly parts and I clench my thighs; a smile pulls at my lips. He wants to see me.
My dad is still on the phone, he sees me looking, and holds up a finger as to say one more minute.
Me: Aw, you want to Netflix and Chill?
His answer is immediate.
Cuba: Nah, I’m trying to Netflix and eat you out. I’m trying to Hulu and Fuck.
Heat rises up my face as I reply.
Me: What if I want Amazon Prime and commitment?
Cuba: I can give you a 14-day free trail then you have to pay baby.
I can’t help but laugh, I like this Cuba, he’s flirty and witty. He gives me butterflies in my stomach.
“Sorry baby girl.” My dad slides back in his chair and I try to contain my smile.
“Everything okay?” I ask dropping my phone back in my purse.
He nods and signals the waiter. “Yeah, I just have to go back to the office.” He frowns. “I’m sorry.”
I wave him off. “Dad, please. I’m not six anymore. You don’t have to be sorry.”
After he pays the tab, we go outside where both our cars are waiting, he must have told the valet we were leaving on his way back in. Dad gives me a kiss on the cheek before shutting my driver’s side door after making sure I put my seat belt on.
“Drive safe and text me when you get home.” He pats his hand on the hood of my car.
“I will, love you.”
Now the question is, where am I going. Home or Cuba’s?
I should have changed, I glance down at my favorite black leggings, you know, the ones that pass off as classy with the right shirt and shoes? Yes, those that I pair with a black laced off the shoulder top and red leather wedges. I wasn’t expecting to be standing outside his house, rubbing the arrow charm at the base of my neck, contemplating whether or not to knock or leave. Tapping my foot, I decide to knock on the door and it swings open right after.
“I wondered how long you were going to stand there.” Cuba is wearing nothing but a pair of black sweats, hanging low on his hips, all his tattoos on display.
“How long have you been watching me?” I walk past him into the hallway, he closes the door behind me.
“Long enough to see you talking to yourself.”
I was not talking to myself.
“You want anything to drink?” he asks, motioning to the kitchen with his thumb. “I’m upstairs watching a movie, if you don’t mind.”
I turn to him. “Not at all. I’ll take a water, I had some wine at dinner.”
Something passes over his face and I forgot he still thinks I was on a date-date.
Looking up at him, I push on my tiptoes and press a kiss against his mouth, he gives me a small kiss back before I take a step back. “I was having dinner with my dad.”
His hazel eyes narrow. “Trying to make me jealous?” he smirks.
I give him a little shrug, batting my eyes. “Did it work?”
Cuba smiles. “My room is the last door on the right, I left some clothes out for you, get comfortable.” He turns and heads to the kitchen.
He won’t admit it, but he is totally jealous. I make my way up the stairs and remember why India and I passed on a townhouse; we would kill ourselves with stairs. My thighs are already burning; I’m so out of shape. There are three doors when I reach the top, two are open, and the one on the left is closed. The middle room is a small laundry room, a basket of clothes is in front of the washer, other than that it’s clean. I pass it and go through the last door on the right, his room.
It’s dark with only the light from the flat screen that’s mounted on the wall. It’s just enough that I can see the large bed in middle of the room, black plush covers in a tangled mess and pillows stacked where he was probably lying. Across from the bed sits a sleek black dresser below the T.V. There are bottles of cologne lined up with a few trophies. The walls are bare except for the one on the right, it’s literally filled from top to bottom with baseball caps that sit on black shelves. Did he rob the MLB? There are even hats that look like limited editions.
Turning back to bed, I see where he laid out a pair of his grey briefs and a plain black tee. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I undo the straps of heels, pulling them off, next I pull my top over my head, keeping my black cami on, unhooking my bra, I pull the straps over my arms and pull it from the bottom on my cami. Standing up, I shimmy out of my leggings and pull his briefs over my pink thong. I have to roll them up so much that they now look like boy shorts on me.
I hear Cuba coming up the steps when I settle in on the left side of his bed, my phone in hand. I send a quick text to my dad letting him know I’m safe, he doesn’t need to know that I’m not home. I also send a text to India letting her know I probably won’t be home tonight, something I rarely do, even with my ex.
“So, I guess I ran out of water, but I do have Gatorade and soda.” He holds up a red bottle and a can of Sprite. “I need to go to the store sooner rather than later.”
He makes his way to the bed, and I can’t help but wonder how this happened, I mean I know how it happened, but if someone would have told me I’d be sitting on Cuba’s bed two weeks ago, I would have laughed in their face. But here I am, sitting on his bed, in his briefs, hot and ready for him to have his way with me.
“Gatorade,” I say, he hands it to me as he sits next to me, his long legs stretched out.
Cuba grabs the remote and starts the movie from where it was paused. His arm snakes around my shoulder and pulls me into his chest. Is it crazy that it feels so normal?
“Thanks for my new shorts,” I tell him cracking open the cap on the bottle and take a sip.
His other hand reaches over and moves up my bare legs. “They look good on you.”
I look at the screen and laugh. “I love this movie!”
“Step-Brothers?”
“Hell yeah, it’s one of my go to movies when I’m-“ I stop talking. I don’t want him to know I’m kind of a pothead. Of course, I have to calm that down when I become a teacher, at least until my newbie years are over.
Cuba shifts and grabs something out of his nightstand, me being nosey tries to tilt my head to see what he’s getting. Is it a condom?
He sits back up, a joint hanging from his mouth, his thumb flicking a lighter, bringing the flame to the paper. Tossing the lighter on his nightstand, he inhales, his fingers pulling the joint from his mouth.
He holds it out for me. “You want a hit?” Thick smoke escapes between his lips.
He’s so sexy it hurts.
I take the joint from him, bringing it to my lips and inhaling deeply, I try to re-inhale sexy, but I start choking on the smoke, Cuba rubs my back as I cough.
“Take it easy, Arrow,” he says in my ear taking the joint away. “What do you usually do? Edibles?”
Catching my breath, I take a big gulp of my drink, my throat is on fire. “I use the vape, apparently it doesn’t hit as strong as a joint.”
“Apparently,” he says, taking another two hits of the joint before passing it back to me.
We pass the joint back and forth, watching the movie. I find out that while high I am laughing at every part of the movie, Cuba is relaxed, his eyes red and low. My ex and I never smoked together, I don’t even think he knew I smoked.
The credits start playing and he presses a button, the Netflix logo appears on the black screen.
“What do you want to watch?” he asks when the menu appears.
I don’t even think about it. “The Tudors.”
Cuba doesn’t say anything as he searches for the show and plays the first season. He doesn’t say anything as he moves between my legs, leaning over, he places an arm on either side me. He still doesn’t say anything as his mouth presses against mine and I melt into him. My high has taken over all my senses and his every touch feels magnified. Every trail of his fingers against my leg sends shivers shooting through my body and my body freezes until his mouth moves down to my neck, his tongue sets me on fire.
He lifts, pulling on my cami and lifting it over my head, making my breasts fall freely, my nipples harden as his warm mouth sucks one in as his fingers pinch and pull my other one.
A moan escapes my mouth and my head falls back. My knees bend, my back arches, pushing my nipple deeper in his mouth.
“Oh, my God,” I grit out, his other hand is trailing up my inner thigh until his fingers glide over my covered slit, chills run up my body. I’m going crazy, his mouth leaving my now cold nipple, he makes his way down my body, his tongue swirling, Cuba’s fingers tease me, trailing back and forth against my throbbing wet lips.
He sits up and hooks his fingers into the elastic band, he pulls the briefs down along with my thong. I can’t see his rock-hard erection but I feel the warmth and length against my thigh, I shudder at the memory of how it filled me.
We lock eyes and he licks his lips. “So pretty baby. So wet.” His finger dips into my wetness and slides out and in again slowly. “So hot and ready.”
My back arches further and I’m pushing against his fingers, my head falls back again as a loud moan leaves my lips.
“You’re so sexy, Arrow.” His thumb slips over my sensitive clit. “I want you on my face.” His fingers leave me as he lies next to me. “Come here.”
I’ve never done this before, sitting on anyone’s face.
“Now,” he snaps, and I realized I haven’t moved. Climbing up his body, I straddle his face, my knees on either side of his head. “Put your hands flat against the wall and don’t move them.” His arms lock around my thighs. I’m trembling with anticipation.
Cuba pulls me lower and I feel his warm breath beneath me. The moment his tongue touches me I know he’s going to kill me. I force myself not to lift my hands off the wall, I want to grip is hair. Cuba sucks and licks in a mind-blowing pattern, with every swipe that hits my clit, I feel that I’m going to come undone. Two fingers slip into me, my eyes roll back from the pleasure. His fingers work me over while his mouth has me on edge. He runs his other hand over my hip traveling up toward my breasts. When he reaches his target, he starts pinching my nipple, and electricity shoots down to my clit.
I can’t hold back anymore. Slowly, I start to rock against his mouth, moving in circles around his tongue. The faster I rock, the faster his fingers pump into me, driving me crazy.
My moans get loud and I can feel him moan into me, the sound vibrating against my lips.
“Oh!” I scream. “Oh, my, shit, God, oh!” I can’t even get the words out as I feel my release building up.
His fingers leave my nipple to clamp down on one of my thighs as his other fingers continue to work me over until I feel a jolt of electricity shoot through me causing my body to shake with pleasure. Cuba holds me down, licking up every drop of my orgasm. My body jerks but he doesn’t let me up. His tongue lapping me up.
Finally, he lets me go and I lean back to sit on his chest, catching my breath. Our eyes meet between my legs, he’s donning a clear white liquid smile.
“You taste as good as I thought.” Cuba licks his lips. “So, fucking good.”
I can feel the blush rise in my cheeks. Shaking my head, I move to get off him, but he holds me in place.
“I’m not done with you yet, baby.” He slaps my ass. “I want you on your knees.”
I roll off him on to my knees, arching my back. “Like this?” Looking up, my eyes widen, Cuba is standing at the end of the bed, his sweats are gone. His hand is wrapped around his thick cock, my pussy pluses at the sight of it. His hooded hazel eyes darken with each stroke.
The bed dips behind me, and I feel him between my legs. A hand presses against the arch of my back.
“Arch your back, Arrow and don’t run.”
I glance back. “I never run.”
Cuba smirks, pressing his tip against me. “We’ll see.”
Dear Vagina,
I’m sorry.
Love,
Me