Refuge & Repair

I sped to Ayana’s house, driven by an inexplicable anger that refused to subside despite my attempts to calm down. While it may seem selfish to confide in her, I had no one else to turn to. Perhaps this conversation would provide her with a momentary respite from her stress about her mom.

Upon arriving at Ayana’s, I found her engrossed in a phone call. The seriousness in her voice made me worry that she was receiving distressing news. I mouthed that I was going to cook, and she nodded, indicating her desire for some privacy while I worked through my own emotions.

I whipped up a delicious shrimp risotto for her, knowing her love for shrimp would help lift her spirits. I also made some refreshing strawberry lemonade using the lemons and strawberries she had in the refrigerator.

Suddenly, she walked into the kitchen nose-first, her characteristic humor evident in her actions. I couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.

“If you want to live here forever and cook amazing meals, I’m more than happy to have you,” she said with a smile.

“I hope you enjoy the risotto and strawberry lemonade. Eat up, girl. You need something on your stomach,” I encouraged her.

As she savored her meal, she hummed contentedly and continued to eat. I was delighted to see her so satisfied with my cooking. We both ate in silence, not a word spoken, but a profound sense of peace and connection between us.

I noticed that Ayana was holding back a lot behind those expressive hazel eyes. Those eyes that once sparkled with life and energy were now sunken, a testament to the nights of sadness and sleep deprivation she had endured. I wanted nothing more than to help my friend, and being here with her was a privilege I cherished.

After a while, my phone buzzed with several messages. I glanced down, rolling my eyes in disbelief. Chris had texted me, and I couldn’t comprehend the reason behind his message. He had made his bed, so it was time for him to lie in it.

Ayana looked puzzled, and I realized she’d caught me looking at the phone. I turned the phone over and started a new conversation, deciding to share the drama with her later.

“So, the sleepover was approved.”

“The one you’ve been talking about since forever?”

“Yes, and I’m thrilled.”

“When is it?”

“The end of the month.”

“You really love those kids like they were your own?”

That question tugged at my heartstrings. Not that she had asked something sensitive, but those words brought back the memories from the earlier situation.

“Yeah, they’re alright,” I tried to say calmly.

“You love them, but don’t stop because they need that.”

Somehow, that motivated me in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

I decided I needed to take a shower to clear my mind and wash away the lingering feelings. The shower was hot, but it wasn’t enough to ease the burden that had settled into my muscles.

I emerged from the shower feeling clean and slightly relaxed. I went downstairs to pour a glass of wine to help me unwind. I stepped outside onto the deck. The moon was high and full in the sky, and a gentle breeze caressed my skin. I sat there for about 20 minutes before Ayana appeared in a robe and joined me. She untied her robe and lit a blunt. As she sat shirtless, she inhaled deeply and exhaled the smoke out her mouth, as if she had been waiting to do that.

“Yana, why are you showing your breasts?”

“I like to let them breathe. You should try it.”

I nodded, pretending to understand, but it was a bit awkward for me. I wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it because it was Ayana, and it would just go in one ear and out the other.

I exhaled deeply and asked about the call she had earlier.

“So, who were you talking to when I came in?”

“That was my mom’s doctor. He was just giving me an update.”

“What did he say?”

She sighed deeply and said, “She’s not getting any better, but she’s not getting any worse either. Basically, she’s at a standstill.”

“Oh no, what now?”

“Mira, I don’t know. Pray and hope for the best.”

We sat there for a few minutes before my phone buzzed again. This time, it was Eric. I had been so engrossed in everything else that I had completely forgotten to speak to him since the festival.

Hey.

Hey.

When can I see you?

I didn’t respond. Instead, I simply turned the phone over and resumed our conversation.

“So, Keema and Chris have been fucking behind my back for a whole year.”

“Say what now?” Ayana sat up in her seat, surprised.

“And as usual, Chris tried to play it off as nothing.”

“I knew that bitch was weird.”

“I slapped Chris. Caused his lip to bleed.”

“Damn girl, I didn’t see that coming.”

“The worst part was that he got her pregnant at some point but lost it early on in the pregnancy.”

Ayana was flabbergasted and pulled on her blunt so hard that she started coughing.

“What did you do to her?”

“I punched her and kept punching until she was on the floor, holding her face.”

That made Ayana smile widely and extend her hand for a high five. I reciprocated.

“That’s my bitch, you go girl. And if you feel like you haven’t done enough, we can jump that bitch.”

“Nah, as long as she stays in her lane, I’ll let it go. But it does make sense why she kept side eyeing me and talking out of the side of her neck.”

“It also explains why she did that weird shit a few months ago when she sent Chris those texts.”

Thinking about that made my blood run hot.

“So, what about the other one?”

“Eric?”

“Yeah, I know you’re glad you’ve been giving your panties up to him, huh?”

I laughed. She wasn’t wrong. “Yeah, about that. I haven’t spoken to him in a few days. He just asked when he could see me.”

“I know you miss him. If you want, just invite him here.”

“No, Yana. This is your space, and you’re dealing with something and you need my full support.”

“And you need dick. Besides, the more the merrier.”

“Are you sure?”

“Girl, it’s fine. You’ve cooked, cleaned, and listened to me. You’ve done your job.”

“Sounds like a maid,” I joked.

“I got the best in town,” she laughed.

I opened my messages and found Eric’s name.

When are you trying to see me?

Now.

Tonight?

That’s what I said.

I dropped a pin and sipped the rest of my wine.

40 minutes later, there was a knock at the door. I turned to look at Ayana, who shrugged her shoulders. She continued smoking.

“I think it’s Eric.”

“Don’t be rude, go get the door. I’m gonna call someone to come eat me out anyway. Go have fun.”

I left after that and got the door. As soon as I opened it, Eric rushed in and kissed me as he slammed me against the wall. Man, this guy is rough.

I wrapped my arms and legs around him so he could deepen the kiss and gain access. He kissed and licked my neck before lowering me and staring into my eyes.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“Oh, really,” I smiled.

Looking around the living room, he asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Let me show you.”

I pulled him towards the couch and sat him down. I slowly slid down his lap and pulled down his pants. I then slid his boxers down and stroked his penis. Then I wrapped my lips around the tip and licked lightly around the tip. Then I trailed kisses from the top to the bottom and back up again.

Eric let out a soft moan. He shifted and pushed himself further into my mouth. The salty taste of the precum filled my mouth. I picked up the speed, alternating between my hand and my mouth. Then I dipped down and traced circles on his balls as I stared into his eyes. He threw his head back.

“Fuck. I’m about to cum.”

I spat on it and sped up, bringing him closer to his climax. Stronger. Faster. Wetter. Shortly after, a stream of cum filled my mouth, warm and plenty.

I swallowed like a good girl. He looked down, wide-eyed.

“You’re such a good girl.”

He picked me up off the floor and hugged me. I let out the recliners on the couch and covered us with a blanket. We held each other and talked before giving in to sleep.