It was Valentine’s day. I had just turned 31 two days ago and broken up with my then boyfriend-ish on my birthday. He decided to inform me that same day, he had come back with the mother of his child. Great!
Angry and disillusioned, one more February 14th alone; one more relationship that didn’t work out and that had lasted less than a meringue in the door of a school. But I was receiving an Airbnb guest that day and I was kind of excited. I really like the hosting experience. And as a bonus, she was a woman that seemed to be quite interesting. After exchanging a few messages I was feeling curious about her -Laura.
I used to pick up my guests at the airport. And there I was waiting until the last passenger of her flight left. I thought she wouldn’t come or that she had cancelled, so I left the airport very pissed off because I had to pay for a taxi both ways. When I came home, I found a stunning woman sitting on the sidewalk, very casual, super fresh. It was Laura. Somehow we missed each other and she took a taxi by herself to my home. I had been ruminating during the trip, bitching on my head, but when I saw her, the anger vanished right away.
It was almost love at first sight.
Laura was this mix of classic and politely rude if she wanted… – I loved the way she carried herself. Almost 40 but looking 25, with a handmade body that exuded energy and sensuality.
No doubt I liked her immediately, but I wanted to stay professional. I had promised myself that I wouldn’t cross that line between hostess and guest. So I swallowed my lust and strived to build a friendly bond, no more.
She had booked two weeks at my place. We spent hours talking, walking around the city and clubbing. It was such a lovely interaction -everything was very fluid and we just got along great. The first night we went out to my favourite bar, we were dancing as if there was no tomorrow. A guy approached me and asked if we were a couple. Intrigued, I said, “Nooo, why do you ask?” To what he replied:
Because she doesn’t get her eyes off you.
In those days an old lover with whom I had been in a long-distant romance for a while, was visiting Cuba too. But we had some sort of friction that got me pretty upset as he was acting like an asshole-total-waste-of-my-time. Laura was with us and my cousin in what was supposed to be a cosy gathering at someone´s terrace. But as I got madly disappointed, I left him and went home with Laura. On the way, we were talking about him, about men in general. She told me he was giving me for granted, that I deserve someone better.
All fired up, I dressed up and said “Let’s go party Laura, I’m not gonna stay home”
Back to the same bar of our first night out. The venue was packed, as usual, with dirty dance and a lot of bodies rubbing against each other. Each of us was flirting the whole night with two of the security guards. You know, those tall guys super fit and striptease-like bodies. She was very much into a black horse who seemed to enjoy the seduction game.
At the end of the night when the bar closed, we were fairly drunk, horny and calling for some attention. I somehow ended up kissing the guy I was flirting with, while she was lost in the muscular arms of the black horse.
After a few kisses here and there, she came to me and said – Linet, let’s go home. Feeling like a naughty teenager, I ran towards her and we left, walking and laughing like perfect partners in crime.
We arrived home and I don’t know why or how I went directly to her room. She entered first and I went after her as if I was sleeping there too. Laid down on her bed. She took a shower and then relinquished next to me. I turned around in a spoon position while she was on her back, like a still candle waiting to be lighted up. I innocently posed my hand on her boobs. She remained still.
As I didn’t find resistance, I let my hand continue to caress her then aroused boobs, her ripped abs, the legs, and all the skin my hands could reach. Still no words, no sounds, just silence and presence.
She kept immobile. I kept going. Touching, licking, kissing…thirsty. Her skin was so soft and tender… the texture of a marshmallow.
She started to become more active and to respond pleasantly to my moves. Every second spent in that bed was delicious.
The next day I went to work and left a note for her. When I came back later that afternoon she was not there but had folded my laundry and left it on my bed. “Sweet!” I thought.
When she came back a few hours later, I noticed she was somehow acting weird and distant. You could feel the tension in the air.
I asked her “Is there anything you wanna say? Like… are we Okay?”
And she said -yes, yes, of course, everything is fine, no worries. Like pretending nothing had happened. The next day I couldn’t stand it anymore, and I told her that we needed to talk about what occurred that night.
So we spoke it out.
It’s just that I had never been with a woman before and when I came here, the last thing that would have crossed my mind is that I was gonna have sex with a woman, especially not with my hostess!. So for me, this is… I need time to process it.
The next evening we went out again, it was her last day in Cuba. Those two weeks had passed too fast. We came back home, totally sober this time. So I didn’t have any excuse to mistakenly sneak into her room again. But to my surprise, she offered me to use her bathroom for a shower, as it was bigger and nicer than mine.
“You can use my bathroom if you want” -she said.
“I’d love that!” I said while undressing myself on the way.
When I finished my shower, she said with an innocent voice: You can stay here if you want to (in her room!).
“Are you sure?” I asked with hesitation. And she answered:
Yes, I am sure, I would love to…
So I stayed. And it happened again, our bodies together again, sweating and leaking. Unforgettable. Juicy. Magical.
Laura was leaving the next morning. When the taxi arrived, we hugged, we promised to stay in touch in the distance.
She cried. I cried. She left.
