“Mi Casa Es Su Casa” Juanita Makes Herself At Home

A Latina lover positions herself for play

It was his scent that woke her. That rich, musky, sweet smell inhaled delivered one word to her brain-Man.

The heat from the late morning sun warmed the exposed sheets on his side of the bed and stirred the molecules into an invisible cloud of pleasure that wafted gently over Juanita’s slender nose. Lazily rolling over, Juanita’s silken black hair fell from her shoulder and fanned across her breasts — a tender smile spreading across her lips. Behind closed eyes, syrupy images of the previous night’s lovemaking danced like a movie reel playing slow-motion highlights.

Juanita felt as though she were glowing inside and out. She had been spoiled last night. “Worshipped,” her silent voice corrected. Juanita felt beautiful and deliciously womanly.

“Mmmm.” Juanita’s dark, coffee-colored eyes slowly peered out from the curtains of her thick, lustrous eyelashes, and she pulled herself from her sweet slumber. Then, reaching her hand across the vacant space where her lover had slept beside her, Juanita looked around the room of her north-man lover.

His room was neat, organized, and free of clutter. Signs of his mountain man lifestyle were evident, with several types of bows mounted against one section of the wall. The thin, luminous shafts of graphite, bamboo, and fiberglass fly fishing rods affixed across another.

Spying the door to his closet, left partially agape, piqued Juanita’s curiosity coaxing her out from beneath the sheets. “I love how you look naked, my dear; now let me see how you cover that marvelous body outside these doors,” Juanita said to the empty room.

She was not surprised at his wardrobe; one half for work clothes, the other for recreation. Juanita let her fingers skip along the shoulders and sleeves of his fine dress shirts and slacks, then brushed them more firmly across his outdoor, heavy fleece, wool, and woven fabrics. When Juanita spied the well-worn denim jacket with the leather shoulder and elbow patches, her lips curled into a new, more playful smile. Then, taking the coat off the hanger, Juanita pressed it to her nose.

She breathed in the scent of campfires, forest pine, tobacco, and a faint whiff of sweat in the jacket. Juanita swung it around her back, slid her arms through the sleeves, and wore the jacket open over her nude body; then, she explored on.

Along the floor of the closet sat backpacks, fishing vests, and other items designated for fishing or hunting. A line of hats rested anchored on hooks at the end of the wall. A slightly tattered blue and grey ball cap with the stitched emblem of a fish sat front and center. Juanita removed the hat, fed her long hair through the opening at the back, and adjusted the band, making it fit snuggly. “Perfect,” she announced.

It was approaching noon, and Juanita knew that he’d be out until after lunch, completing errands and stopping by the grocers to stock up the fridge. He was eager to cook for her, he said, and before leaving, had, in his adorably poor Mexican accent, whispered, “Mi casa es su casa.”

Juanita happened to be squatting her bare ass on her bare heels with the fridge door open and browsing for a snack when the doorbell rang. She sprang up with such a jolt that she was standing on her tiptoes, then froze in place, not immediately sure what to do other than pulling the jean jacket closed across her breasts.

The doorbell rang again, followed by brisk rapping on the door.

Juanita buttoned up the jacket and went to the door. Pulling back the blind, she saw a woman, youngish, blonde, and conservatively dressed in a sweater vest overtop, a white dress shirt, and a pretty but not provocative skirt standing on the porch. Juanita opened the door.

The rehearsed smile appeared on the girl’s face as the door swung open, which dropped to a straight line once Juanita, wearing only the jacket and cap, revealed herself to the visitor. A flush of rouge colored the girl’s cheeks.

“Hello,” said Juanita, “may I help you?”

The young lady responded politely, snapping out of her shock, though she had some trouble keeping her eyes from dropping to Juanita’s beautiful cleavage’s lightly tanned-looking skin.

“Hi! Hello.” The girl said, stumbling over her words slightly, then shifted into her script. “My name is Claire, and I’m canvassing the area to survey residents on how they feel the current Conservative Provincial government is performing with the issues of rising fuel prices, carbon taxation, and federal revenue sharing. Would you be willing to give about fifteen minutes to answer some questions?”

Juanita smiled. She was pretty, this “Claire of the Conservative Party,” and she had recovered well from the shock of being greeted by a nearly nude woman on this side of the door.

Juanita decided to play along.

“Of course, dear,” Juanita answered kindly, “Why don’t you come in? I was just about to make myself some coffee. Would you like a cup?”

Claire stepped inside, surveyed the surroundings, and, sensing no danger, accepted.

“Why, thank you. That would be lovely and very kind of you to offer.” Claire answered.

Over coffee, Claire ran through her questionnaire, and Juanita answered the queries convincingly as though she were a native resident. Amused and flattered by the young lady’s darting glances at her cleavage, Juanita recognized the signs of the woman’s attraction to her but wondered why Claire hadn’t inquired about her accent.

Feeling aglow in her appeal, Juanita felt like playing a little more flirtatiously. When Juanita rose from the stool to retrieve the coffee carafe for refills, she deftly unhooked a button of the jacket, exposing the top of her dark brown areolas. Then, as Juanita leaned over the counter to top off Claire’s mug, she offered the pretty blonde an unfettered view clear down to her now perky nipples.

Claire held her breath as her eyes took in the view. Her fingers rose to her neck, and she flipped her wavy blonde hair over her shoulder.

As Juanita pulled back, the end of her long black hair brushed over Claire’s arm. The soft black hair of Juanita’s ponytail combed through the light blonde strands of Claire’s.

Their eyes met. Juanita’s warm chocolate pools, smoldering and seductive, gazed into the light blue of Claire’s wide-set eyes.

Juanita set the carafe on the island and took Claire’s mug from her slim hands and put it next to the carafe without a word said. Then, she raised a hand to Claire’s chin, her fingers lightly stroking her cheek. Claire stared heavily into Juanita’s eyes.

Taking Claire’s hand, Juanita leaned in and kissed her. The kiss was light. Lips pressed together; an exploratory touch.

Juanita guided Claire’s hand beneath the jean jacket and pulled the blonde girl’s cool palm into her breast and kissed her again; this time, Claire kissed back.

Juanita opened her mouth and felt Claire’s tongue slip between her lips, the soft warmth of Claire’s tongue dipped tentatively into Juanita’s mouth. Then, moving her hand over Claire’s, Juanita pressed it more aggressively into her breast. Claire’s fingertips brushed delicately over Juanita’s erect nipple.

Juanita broke the kiss, caressed the blonde hair of the pretty young lady, and then asked, “Have you ever given yourself to a couple?”

Breathing heavily, Claire took a moment to answer.

“No — I’ve never — I’ve hardly done anything at all,” Claire said.

Juanita pursed her lips and considered the possibilities with an arched eyebrow.

“How old are you, dear?” Juanita asked.

“Twenty-three,” Claire answered, “Twenty-four next month.”

“Have you been with a woman before?”

Claire blushed, then, biting her lip, slipped her hand back from beneath the denim jacket and Juanita’s soft breast. “Yes. But only twice. With a girl in high school and the other in college.” The willingness of answering such personal questions shocked her but she felt no hesitation.

“And a man? Have you had a man?” Juanita asked, stepping away from Claire’s side and walking around the island.

“Yes,” Claire answered.

“Do you have a boyfriend now?”

“No. Not at the moment. Not for a while, actually.” Claire answered.

“I hope you don’t mind my questions, dear,” Juanita said, “I answered yours; I think it’s fair to ask you one or two. If it doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Yes — I mean, no. But, yes, you have been very generous with your time, I meant, and no, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable.” Claire answered.

“You find me attractive?” Juanita asked.

“Very much,” Claire said, nodding her head. “I think you’re gorgeous. You have the most beautiful hair, a wonderful nose, and I love your accent. I almost felt faint when you answered the door, to be honest.”

“Thank you, dear,” answered Juanita. Then she went on, “You kiss very nicely, Claire. That lovely, small mouth, so pretty.” Juanita purred. “You’re very delicate. You make me think of Lily. I like that.”

“Claire?” Juanita asked, “I wonder if perhaps you would like to come back? This evening? You really should conduct your survey with my lover. It’s his home, after all. I’m only visiting.”

Claire said nothing, but her eyes answered. She glanced at Juanita leaning against the counter, her tanned legs, relaxed confidence, and poise. Her luminous dark, black hair. The soft curve of her cheekbones above a smooth, feminine jawline. That lovely, slender nose.

“I expect him to return shortly, and I’d rather not have him unprepared for us, darling. Men generally prefer to hold some semblance of control, but if you want to leave me your number, I will text you this evening if he seems agreeable to having you come play with us?” Juanita explained as she moved towards the door.

Claire rose from the stool at the island and followed.

At the front door, Juanita turned and, leaning against it, faced Claire. Raising her hands to the jacket, Juanita slowly unclasped the remaining buttons, then opened the coat. She stood before the blushing blonde girl, completely nude.

“That is, of course, if you are interested in wanting to play.”

Claire nodded her head slowly; she stepped to the door and Juanita. The women kissed again — soft, slow, tender kisses.

Juanita cupped Claire’s ass and gave a light squeeze, kissed her more passionately, and drug her teeth along Claire’s bottom lip. Then, moving her mouth to Claire’s neck, then the ear, she whispered, “I would love to taste the rest of you, darling. If you change your mind about this evening, come back for me tomorrow.”

Claire’s chest heaved, her face was flush, and the tip of her nose reddened.

“You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met,” Claire whispered. “I’ll do whatever you want.” Once again, Claire’s submissiveness rose to the surface.

Juanita peeled away from the door, opened it, and the two women said goodbye.

Latching the door behind her, Juanita returned to the kitchen, placing Claire’s card with her cell number scrawled across the back on the counter.

Famished, Juanita dove back into the fridge. She needed to eat, and when her lover returned, Juanita wanted him to have only one thing on his mind.

With a plate of fresh fruit, bread, and cheese, Juanita moved the lounge chair and side table to face the front door. The denim jacket remained unbuttoned, and nothing else but the hat adorned her titillating body.

Juanita knew how to welcome her man home.

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