Absolute Smokeshow

Heart And Sol

It's okay, you haven't done anything wrong. Nothing sexual is going to happen, so there's no reason to message Rhea about it, you reassure yourself as you nervously scrape hash out of the metal grooves in your grinder. Your newly-cleaned bong - bowl already packed - sat on the table in front of you. Despite having spent most of the day making sure your apartment was spotless, you still had anxious energy to spare; better to keep moving, rather than let it get to you.

The sudden buzz of your phone on the table nearly made you drop your grinder. Setting it down instead, you check the message:
"Just parked, which one is yours again?"
Rather than typing your reply, you hurried out the door and looked around until you spotted a slightly beat-up blue truck with rainbow beads hanging from the rearview mirror.
Stepping out of the driver's seat, Marisol looks down at her phone before scanning the apartments. The sight of you waving from your door made her smile, tucking her phone into her bag and locking the car before making a beeline for you.

"Que tal, pretty lady?" she winked at you through loose crimson curls, curtsying with an imaginary skirt when you held the door open for her.
What she actually had on was a pair of black cargo shorts. You tried not to stare at the waistband of the boxers peeking out of them, only allowing yourself a brief glimpse of her curves and stomach that her tight crop top failed to cover as she walked past you. Did she have a tattoo on her lower back?
The warmth in your face was difficult to ignore - but you did your best.
"Feel free to start that bowl while I get us some water," you say, noticing Marisol looking at the bong as she set down her bag.
"She's a beauty," Mari picked up the bong and took a closer look as you walked across the apartment.
"Thanks! My girlfriend got it for me," you say without thinking.
"You have a girlfriend?"

The question makes you pause just as you duck into the kitchen.
Popping your head back into the room, you explain.
"I do, but we're in an open relationship," you try your best not to let your words run into each other in your rush to reassure your guest, "Polyamorous relationship? It's still a bit of a new situation for me."
Standing awkwardly, you waited for a response.
"So how many girlfriends do you have?" Marisol asked, not seeming too phased.
"Just one," you reply, "She has a boyfriend too, but I'm not with anyone aside from her."
"So you have room for another girlfriend."
It was a statement, not a question.
Sitting down on the couch with a grin, Mari missed your stunned look, focusing instead on using the bong and lighter in front of her. You weren't sure what sort of response you expected, but hers wasn't even on your list of possibilities.

The sound of smoke being pulled through the water made you remember that you still had to get drinks and you unfroze, stepping into the kitchen again.
Two filled glasses later, you were sitting next to Marisol on the couch and she was passing you the bong.
"I'm packing the next bowl," she informed you as you took a hit.
"My weed isn't good enough for you?" you ask, feigning offense as you exhale and fill the space between you with smoke.
"Mira, you got me all wrong if you think I'm smoking with anyone and not contributing," she replied as you handed her the bong.
You watched as the lighter's flame dipped into the green, half-charred bud before leaving a glow in its wake. Thin tendrils disperse into the air as the bowl is removed to take in the hit.

Setting the bong aside and turning to you, Marisol pointed to her mouth, one eyebrow raised in a silent question. Feeling your heart beat faster, you nodded and closed your eyes while leaning in for a shotgun.
Her soft lips pressed against yours, parting them as she exhaled. Sucking in the smoke, you felt Mari's tongue flit toward yours and her hand hold your face before sliding down to your chest, making you moan.
Fighting your instincts, you moved her hand and pulled away to look into her eyes through the thinning cloud of smoke between you.
"Not this time," you tell her, breathless and trying not to apologize, "It's not that I don't want to, just- I have to give my girlfriend a heads up."
Mari nodded as she let you have some space, "No te preocupes, hermosa - there's no rush."
Relieved, you gulp down a long drink of water to quench your sudden thirst before taking a hit of your own from the proffered bong.

As soon as the bowl was cashed, Marisol set to work packing another, waving you away when you tried to tell her she didn't need to.
"So what's she like?" Mari asked, hands working expertly to maneuver the flower.
"Sorry?" you were starting to feel the last bowl already and couldn't remember whether you had been saying something or were just thinking very loudly.
"Tu novia," she clarified, opening the kief compartment of her grinder as your thoughts turned to Rhea.
"Powerful... sweet... passionate," you felt yourself blushing when you thought of all the ways in which that last descriptor fit her.
"She's just... an absolute smokeshow."