It is late. Most of Lisa’s parties never end till way past dawn, and even though I love dancing… well I am tired. Tired is a classy way to put it. If only Jessenia, Lisa’s old college friend, hadn’t shown up. Lisa only talked about her as if Jessenia was a dazzling queen for hours.
Jessenia really is a dazzling queen. We’ve been dancing on and off throughout the night and I half wish our dancing affects her too. Oh, there’s Lisa. I must tell her I’m leaving before Jessenia finds me again.
I make my way over to Lisa, I’m roughly three steps away when Jessenia walks up to Lisa and hugs her. Jessenia says a couple of words, and Lisa replies nodding her head. Looks like Jessenia is leaving too, I try to stay away and wait for Jessenia to leave but my feet have their own mind.
“Andrea!” Lisa screams through the music.
“Hi!” I say and give her a hug. I lean in close to her ear and try to tell her that I’m leaving without having Jessenia find out.
“Oh!” Lisa nods and points to Jessenia. “Jessenia is leaving too, she should walk you out.”
Jessenia nods in response. Maybe she wanted this to happen. Maybe I did.
“She is subletting at Luxury Coves for the summer.” Lisa adds and Jessenia nods again. Of course, Jessenia has to sublet in the same apartment complex as me. Why wouldn’t she, she’s only here for the summer.
I nod and hug Lisa again. “Goodnight!” I smile and Lisa grins. I smile at Jessenia and she grins too. We slid out of Lisa’s crowded town house and onto the cool late night.
We walk together in silence, the noises of the party drifting away as we walk on toward Luxury Coves. We soon stop in front of the complex sign. The lights bounce off her hazel and blonde hair. She’s wearing a dress like me; hers is snug around her curves and delights.
“I live on the south side.” She points behind her.
“Oh, me too.” I quickly stumble.
I’m too nervous; she’s too pretty. She grabs my hand slowly, a small electric current pulses underneath her touch. She leads me into the complex and we walk toward the back. There’s a small secluded playground with lush trees, bushes, and a couple of swings. She pulls me behind a tree, out of sight of any tenant or pedestrian.
My heart accelerates; I’ve only wanted this all night. She moves her body close to mine in a fragment of a second and the scent of her skin overpowers me. My body urges me to follow her lead, but my brain whispers warnings.
She’s Lisa’s friend.
Jessenia slowly moves her hands down my arms, her fingers alternate over my skin playing a small an electrifying game. I moved my hands up her thighs, following the tight fabric along her.
She might only be around for the summer.
“Andrea,” she whispers over my ear, leans forward, and holds it in between her lips.
But she’s here now
Jessenia’s body inches closer to mine. I quiver underneath her touch, oh to have her touch me. Without skipping a second, her mouth lets go of my ear and attacks my lips. Overpowering and sweet; tasty and serene. Her hands glide against the top of my dress, she lingers over the top of my breasts. Her assault is simple and slow.
My lips respond to the urgency of hers. We kiss under the latent morning sky. Our hands converge as they roam over our curves. Her hand moves down my navel and underneath my dress. It saunters over the line of my panties. Our lips manically increase their path while her hand shifts down between my legs. Her hand pulls my panties down and out of the way.
Her long fingers grace upon my ready fervent skin, easing their way in. Easing in awfully slow, instinctively I squat to absorb her fingers more. Her free hand went down my back and underneath my dress. It made a light trail up my panties, up my back, and finally around to cup my breasts. She breaks the kiss and places small kisses on my neck.
She begins to kiss my neck with more passion and her fingers squeeze my nipples in the same manner. She took turns teasing each swollen bulb. I moaned, not caring if anyone could hear. My body leaned over threatening to lose balance. She stopped her hands and nodded over to the tree. Slowly, and oh so pleasurably, we move slowly the couple of steps to the tree, her fingers within me.
We reach the tree and her mouth covers mine again. She moves her fingers faster, my body begins to climb the imperial ladder of lust. I can feel my insides shaking, and then she stops.
“Jess..” I try to breathe as she pulls her hand out of me.
“Sh,” she coos and grabs a hold of my hips. She turns me around so that my faces meets up with the tree’s bark. She lifts my skirt up and moves her body up behind me. She runs her hands down my legs and back up again. One of her hands moves into my center and the other holds onto my thighs. She moves her hand in and out, the motion pushing my face against the tree.
A few thrusts later, I lean my body closer to the tree, my breasts rubbing against the tree. She pushes her fingers in and out of me, my breasts and nipples rub against the tree, and I attempt to moan her name. But, the noises coming out of me aren’t English, and definitely not coherent. Her fingers continue their onslaught, I can feel small bruises forming on my breasts, and I’m moaning like there’s no tomorrow.
All of a sudden she stops. The noise of footsteps on the grass make me go down to my knees, my dress falling over my bared lower body.
“Sh,” Jessenia coos and kneels down next to me. “It’s security. I think someone heard you.”
Security. No, not me. This isn’t happening to me. She huddles closer as the footsteps wander off into the night. Probably back into the office. My heart races and my feet become cold.
“It’s ok.” Jessenia puts her arm around me. “They didn’t come into the playground.” I stare in amazement at the sincerity of her voice. “Let’s go to my place.” She adds and kisses my cheek. “Get you cleaned up and we can get some sleep.”
The initial shock of being caught slowly disappears as the thought of cleaning up and getting some sleep with Jessenia creeps in. I nod, she helps me stand up, and we sneak into her apartment.
Sopphey Vance is a poet. She creates poetry with letters, words, sounds, and color. Currently, she spends her time organizing and participating in local protests, teach-ins, and human rights campaigns. When she’s not holding a sign or passing out fliers, she’s hidden from the world writing all sorts of tales, designing, and publishing new and emerging artists for the On Impression Network. You may find Sopphey here: http://sopphey.onimpression.com.