AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What are you doing?” I ask, looking around. He doesn’t respond to my question. Instead, he meanders to the side of the pool and kicks off his shoes, then begins unbuckling his jeans, pulling them down and stepping out of them. My cheeks burn as I watch him peel his socks off, and lastly slip off his tighty-whities. I squeeze my legs, the tingling sensation spreading from my core. His golden-brown skin glows, even with the sky nearly dark.
Amaury jumps into the pool, emerging with water dripping from his dark locks, positioning himself along the wall opposite where I stand. He stretches his arms along the wall, his chest glistening from the water. “Ven,” he says.
I swallow. “Um. You want me to swim naked?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Amaury
“What if someone sees me? Sees us?” she inquires, searching the yard. She wraps her arms around her torso, as if she were already unclothed.
“No one will see,” I tell her, licking my lips as my desire for her increases. I point to the Ficus hedges surrounding the yard and she looks up at the bushes encircling my property, which is thick and stands high, shielding the yard from everything surrounding it.
“En Cuba, everyone knows everything you do. There is no privacy,” I say.
“No privacy?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.
I shake my head. “Everybarriohad achivatón,someone who told the government everything we all did. Thechivatónwould get better treatment for being a government agent. Another method of control used by the Cuban government,” I say. Her eyes widen, as they do each time I share a little bit of my life in Cuba. Disbelief is written all over her face. Having grown up here in the U.S. with the comforts this country offers, it’s hard for her to understand, for anyone outside of Cuba, how we suffered and lived. “It was the neighborhoodchivatónwho told on us when we tried to leave on a raft before the time we left. We spent a few days in jail until Roberto’s father got us out.” It was misery at its finest.
“Wow.” The words are barely audible.
“When I moved here, after freedom the only thing I wanted was privacy.” The first thing I did after I bought this house was place Ficus around the perimeter of the property. Now the Ficus stand over ten feet tall and it’s what I love the most about my yard—I’m shielded from the outside world.
“That makes sense,” she whispers as her eyes scan the yard.
“Dale, the water is warm. I’m waiting for you.” I splash at the surface of the water with my hands, calling for her to join me.
Sol searches the yard again, pursing her lips as she does. She strides over to the lounge chair and drops her bag on it. When her eyes meet mine, she kicks off her sandals and unbuttons her jeans, letting them fall to the ground. She’s wearing red panties and they’re snug around her curvy hips. I watch as her hands reach for the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her long curls. She slides one strap off then the next, unclasping the beige bra at the front.
Her heavy breasts fall, the dark pink skin surrounding her nipples prickles and she shimmies her underwear over her thick thighs. I swallow, can feel my erection growing. I want to devour this woman; her curves drive me crazy. As she slowly approaches the water, I’m remembering the weight of her body on me last night as she rode me, drawing my orgasm from me. There’s no sensation I love more than the weight of a woman on top of me as I fill her. I’ve never felt so alive as I did with her last night. The timid side of her was gone when we were alone and naked in her bed.
Between my memories of last night and the beautiful woman wading into the water, I’m hard as a rock and feel as if I’m about to explode. My insides are on fire, and I need her to douse the flames. When she’s on the second step and the water reaches halfway up her calves she stops in place. I can hear the vibration of her phone and watch as her shoulders subtly stiffen. Why would her phone ringing cause her to freeze up? Her shoulders soften once the phone is no longer vibrating. She takes the remaining steps into the water and stops at the bottom, the water at the apex of her thighs. Her nipples are hard and the skin that’s still not in the water is prickled from the cold she’s feeling after immersing herself into the water.
I cross the pool to where my jeans are and pull a condom from the pocket. After wading over to the stairs, I sit on the top step. Sol turns to watch me as I tear open the small foil packet. She’s gawking as I roll the condom on. “Ven,” I say, calling her over to me. With her legs straddling me, she lowers herself until I’m filling her. Once I’m fully inside of her I grab the globes of her ass to hold onto her as the rhythm of our bodies move in unison.
We’re stretched out on the lounge chairs, the music streaming through the speakers. I put music on earlier, Sol volunteering her playlist to play on shuffle. Right now, “She Will Be Loved” by Maroon 5 is playing. “I love this album,” she says, turning toward me and tangling her legs with mine.
Sol is wearing my t-shirt, which hits the top of her thighs. She went inside earlier to get a glass of water and I ogled her as she strode across the patio because I caught a glimpse of her red panties, and it makes me want to rip them off and fuck her again. After I made love to her, she told me there was no reason for her to get dressed again. There was no objection from me when she pulled my dark gray t-shirt over her head. Don’t get me wrong, I love the way her jeans hug her ass, but I enjoy it more when her warm, radiant skin is exposed and ready for me.
“It’s a good album,” I say. Her feet rub against mine and she peeks up at me with a mischievous grin on her face.
“Did you have fun tonight?” she asks, before sipping on her water.
I nod. I was nervous taking her to my friend’s house, although more for her than for me. I know how intense they can be when joking around, and I wasn’t sure how Sol would handle it. She did well for the first time and I’m proud of her. Plus, my friends loved her, as I expected. “Sí, mucho! You?”
“I really like your friends,” she says. Her toe is rubbing the underside of my foot in a slow up and down motion. “But you guys speak too fast when you’re all together. Between that and your Cuban lingo, I didn’t understand a lot of what you were talking about.”
“You get used to it soon.” I smirk, then kiss the tip of her nose and pull her bottom lip between mine.
She pulls away. “I’m hungry,” she says. “Have anything we can eat?”
“Maybe,no se.” I’m not sure what’s in my kitchen. I haven’t been food shopping in over a week.
She hops to her feet and skips toward the kitchen, and I follow, watching her ass bounce. I find some plantain chips and open the bag, pouring them into a bowl. Sol grabs a handful and begins crunching.
“I never ate these until I moved to Miami,” she tells me.
“Mariquitasare my favorite.En Cuba,I made them at my house a lot becauseplátanosare something we ate a lot of.”
