This is the third time Lauren has had to do this in the past month and god knows how many times the past year.

Usually, she'd only be gone for a day or two before guilt would wash over her and send her crawling back to her fiancée.

Boarding the first flight out of New York to any city that will whisk Lauren away isn't exactly ideal for someone who's getting married in less than six months. You'd think she'd be more excited to marry someone she'd been with for four years. Victoria Secret Model, Keana Marie, is Hollywood's 'It' girl, the girl every teenage boy thinks about late at night and one-half of the power couple known as: 'Keauren.'

Lauren is 26 and not getting any younger and Keana has been with her since the beginning of her career - that's all the basis Lauren needs to propose right? Her label seemed to think so and greatly encouraged her to do so, sounding more excited about marriage than Lauren herself.

It's not just Keana - her record label has been pressuring Lauren to speed up the process of her third album. Despite the fact that she has told her stuffed-shirt, high-almighty label head that art cannot be rushed to perfection.
So here she is, driving the long-stretched Malecón roadway of Havana, Cuba, looking for any discrete hotels that won't leak her name to the press the minute they realize that pop star Lauren Jauregui is staying there.

Lauren soon decides that the Hostal Valencia is as good as any - right in the heart of Old Havana.

She checks in with no problem whatsoever, turns out the concierge is a big fan and would do anything for the one and only Lauren Jauregui - including keeping her appearance in the city on the down low. Arriving in her suite, she decides to place her suitcase in the corner of the room.

Lauren plops herself face-first onto the bed, groaning loudly in the process. The familiar, basically routine, ring from her phone echoes through the room and Lauren's head perks up in response. She doesn't have to see the Caller ID to know that it's Keana.

She can't deal with her right now.
Lauren turns to her only solace in time like these - plain old, black coffee. Thankfully, Valencia was courteous enough to have packets of coffee along with coffee makers in each of their rooms. Lauren pours herself a cup and immediately drowns half of it in one gulp, letting out a content sigh at the warmth rippling through her body.

Her room came with a balcony spacious enough to hold a small, rounded table with a chair on it. Lauren took this opportunity to place her cup on top of the round table and look upon the streets of Havana. The blue streaks of daylight are almost non-existent as nightfall began to overturn the Havana sky, highlighting the kaleidoscopic colors of its buildings and vintage cars. The street lights have turned on, the chatter of the streets gradually gets louder and out of the corner of her eye, Lauren can see skimpy-dressed women ready for a night out.
Havana is livelier than ever.

Having a knack for music, Lauren's ear picks up the soft, yet sensual, sound of some Latin tune. Coincidentally, the music was coming just below her from the other side of the narrow street; two men picking away at their guitars and one tapping gently at a pair of bongos.

And that's when Lauren caught sight of her.
Swaying and twirling gently to the music, was a woman dressed in a blue cut-off floral print dress, her brown locks cascading past her shoulders. Lauren continued to watch the woman, enamored with the way her hips moved to the music and how her lips tugged the corners of her mouth into a smile. She was beautiful, no doubt in her physical appearance, but there's something about the way she is that attracted Lauren.

The woman seemed in her element, most likely a local, dancing to her country's music and not caring about the world around her.

When the music stopped, Lauren felt a pang of disappointment wash over her. She was sure the woman was gonna leave now that the song is over. Until she didn't and heard the woman say "Uno mas, por favor, senor!"

Despite coming from a Cuban family and had Spanish-speaking relatives, Lauren had never been taught her native language. Mostly because her mother never lived up to the days where Lauren could walk. Nevertheless, she only knew the basics and was ninety percent sure the woman just asked for one more song.
This could be my chance, Lauren thought. You know what, fuck it.

Half a heartbeat later, Lauren threw on a new pair of a plain - white tee and leather jacket with the first pair of running shoes she saw. She found herself speed walking down the hall and onto the staircase, not wanting to make a commotion but also would hate to miss encountering that woman.

Upon exiting the Valencia, her emerald eyes scanned the street until she found the woman again. She was still dancing and suddenly, Lauren felt nervous to go approach her. But of course, Lauren's legs had a mind of their own and took steps closer to her. Much like a magnetic force, like a moth to a flame, Lauren knew that she couldn't turn away from this woman even if she tried. Maybe it was reflex or simply part of the magnetic tide, that Lauren unconsciously ripped the diamond engagement right from her finger and shoved it in her back pocket.

As she got closer, the woman's features became more defined in her eyes; Lauren had to remind herself to breathe because that's just what this woman was: breathtaking in every way.

She was standing barely a foot away from her now. God, she must look like some creepy stalker just staring at her like that. But this woman's mesmerizing aura was like a siren's call and Lauren is a mere human - too weak to resist something otherworldly. Lauren could see the woman's prominent cheekbones, her sharp jawline and eyes closed in bliss in tune of the music. When those eyes opened, they were looking right at her - the most hypnotizing chocolate brown eyes Lauren has ever seen.

"¿Vas a bailar conmigo o no? (So, are you going to dance with me or not?)" She says.

"I, um," Lauren stutters. "No hablo Espanol?"
The woman laughs and takes Lauren by the hand, pulling her into her own body. Her hands snake around Lauren's neck much like how the green eyed girl secured her arms on the woman's curvy waist.

"I guess I'll have to compromise then," The woman says. Lauren raised her eyebrow impressed at sounding so fluent in both English and Spanish.

The pace of the music suddenly changed to one that Lauren could only describe as slow and absolutely perfect for this moment. The two women began to calmly rock back and forth to the music, holding each other close. "What's your name?" Lauren asks.

"Camila," She says as Lauren twirls her around before resuming to their last position.

"Beautiful name for a -" Lauren starts but Camila interrupts her. "If the next words out of your mouth are 'for a beautiful girl,' I'm gonna walk away right now," said Camila with a hint of amusement in her voice. Lauren laughs out loud, probably the first real sound of happiness in the past few months.

"I was totally not about to say that."

"Uh huh. Sure you weren't."

"So, what brings you to Havana, planet green eyes?" Camila asks. A strand of perfectly waved hair came in front of Camila's eye before Lauren tucked it back in her ear. "Same reason everyone comes to Havana," Lauren says. "The culture, the cigars, women like you."

Camila raises her eyebrows and ducks her head down to hide her reddening cheeks. "You really know how to get 'em don't you?"

"Not really," Lauren keeps eye-contact. "I'm secretly a nerd who's pick-up lines are usually random fun facts."

"I find that hard to believe with how you're doing right now."

"Okay then, missy. Prepare to for your mind to be blown," said Lauren taking Camila's hand and spinning her around before her back was pressed against the green-eyed girl's front, her arms wrapped around her. "Did you know," Her lips grazing Camila's ear, "There is enough DNA is an average person's body to stretch from the Sun to Pluto 17 times."

Color Camila impressed. "Wow, you're right. That was a fun fact. Tell me more."

"Well -" Lauren was cut off by the abrupt ending of the music. Camila pulled away from her and fervently clapped for the musicians "Bravo! Gracias (Bravo! Thank you)."

"Cualquier cosa por usted, Señorita Camila (Anything for you, Miss Camila)."

As if she wasn't just dancing with her two seconds ago, Camila started to walk away. Lauren furrowed her brows and jogged up to her "Hey wait up! I...you - I didn't even give you my name."

And yet, Camila kept walking, completely ignoring her. Lauren grabbed her wrist, stopping Camila I'm her tracks. Camila sighed, "I don't live under a rock. I know who you are. Tell me, what is Lauren Jauregui doing dancing with strangers in Cuba?"
Lauren stayed silent. She doesn't even know herself why she's here.

"Exactly."

Turning her heels again, Camila made an attempt to leave before Lauren stepped in front of her. "Can I at least buy you a drink?" Lauren was pleading with her eyes now, no one could resist these eyes. She doesn't know why she's trying so hard; granted, she's never even had to try in the past.

Camila narrowed her eyes at the woman in front of her and soon complied. "One drink, Jauregui."

Lauren stepped back beside her and Camila took the initiative to link their arms together "So what's the best bar 'round here?"

"That would be José's around the corner."

"Lead the way."

The pair, lead by Camila, made their way through Old Havana in a comfortable silence. Lauren sensed that Camila was enjoying herself in her company from the way she stole glances at her - or at least tried to. The older woman had caught her each time. She also tried her best to keep her head down in fear of being recognized. The last thing she needs is a flock of people shoving cameras in her face.

"Here we are," said Camila.

It was clear from first glance José's was not your average jazz bar. The exterior was not very special, Lauren wouldn't have taken a second glance at it had it been for the brown eyed beauty next to her. Stepping into the bar was like stepping into a time machine like she was propelled to the 1940's. There was a relatively small stage at the end of the room, but somehow fit all the instruments on it. People on the dance floor were swinging and jive dancing to the upbeat tempo the lead saxophone was playing. Lauren hadn't expected Camila to take her here, let alone be the type of girl to like jazz. Not to mention, the actual bar had rows upon rows of imported alcohol with a marble counter top for customers and stools to sit on.

Camila leads her to one of the small, round tables surrounding the dance floor. Their table was dimly lit and staring at the woman in front of her, Lauren couldn't fathom the glow that radiated from her. "Wait here, let me get us a drink," She says.

She came back two minutes later with two cocktail glasses with an orange peel perched on top of them. Camila sat across from her and slid the drink to her fingertips. The mood had changed along with the music; it was now the sultry sound of saxophone and harmonica to Bill Withers's 'Ain't No Sunshine.'

Lauren felt like she was in a trance. The soft lighting, the music, Camila was driving her crazy. "So what is it that you do, Camila?" Lauren asked. "I'm an art curator." She replied, taking a sip of her drink. Lauren perked up at the sound of 'art' unexpectedly.

Lauren raised her eyebrows. "Oh really? I love art, I have a collection myself back in New York. Although, I wouldn't have pegged you for the art type."

"Don't underestimate me, Jauregui," Camila smirked.

"How did you get into curating?"

"Well I've always loved art," Camila started, the older woman could tell the words to be followed were genuine from the brim of passion from her eyes. "I love the prospect of creating something that puts forth and evokes emotion from both myself and others. So I got a Ph.D. in Art History from Paris-Sorbonne and soon got an internship at Musée d'Orsay after I graduated."

Lauren was impressed. Not only was this woman beautiful but highly intelligent as well. She probably speaks French too, Lauren thought. "I've visited the d'Orsay museum a handful of times before, why haven't I seen you before?" Lauren questioned.

"I do work for them but, I haven't been there in quite a while. You see, I manage the Mystical Landscapes Exhibit and the museum is lending it to a select few museums around the world. So, where they go, I go."

Lauren was in disbelief. "No freaking way, I've wanted to see that exhibit forever! But I've either missed it in Paris or I was on tour. Holy shit, Camila."

Camila wouldn't admit it out loud but Lauren Jauregui geeking out over art was surprisingly endearing. "You, up close and personal with Van Gogh, Monet, Carr. Oh my god."

"Yeah, it truly is a dream come true," Camila nodded. "That's actually why I'm here. The exhibit is at the National Museum of Fine Arts not too far from here."

"Damn," said Lauren, looking up at the clock perched on the wall. "The museum is closed, isn't it?

"They close early on Sundays. But being a curator has its perks," said Camila raising her eyebrow. Dangling from her finger, were a set of keys bumping against one another. "What do you say, Jauregui? You up for an adventure?"
Lauren smiled but didn't respond with words. Instead, she bottomed her drink and took Camila's wrist, said woman giggling behind her. She placed a $20 dollar bill on the bar counter on her way out.

They were met with fresh air upon exiting José's. "Are we walking or..?" Lauren asked. "No," said Camila, lacing their hands together and guiding her to the corner of the street. Lauren's heartbeat was rapidly increasing by the second; Camila's hand in hers and a nice view of that ass.

"The perks of Cuba's nonexistent trade relations," said Camila as they rounded the corner. She was met with a peach-colored 1939, maybe 1940 Mercury Coupe car. Lauren was never good with cars but went to enough Vintage Car Shows to know what was what. "I rented it for the time being. Isn't she a beaut?" Camila said excitedly.

Camila made a beeline for the passenger side and politely opened the door for the older woman. "After you."

Lauren raised her eyebrows. "What a gentlewoman," She says, getting into the car.
Soon enough, they were driving to the museum - a very short drive, or so Camila insisted. They engaged in small talk, all the while Lauren was playing with her fingers nervously. Why is she like this? Lauren Jauregui doesn't get nervous...right? Apparently being with Camila is the exception to that.

At a stoplight, Camila turns on the radio. Much into the chorus was none other than Lauren Jauregui's latest hit 'Strangers featuring Halsey.'

"Stop fucking following me," Lauren groaned. "Don't like hearing yourself, superstar?" Camila teased as her vehicle began to move forward once more. "It's becoming so overplayed now, it's annoying" stated Lauren, as a matter of fact. "Yeah, because having people play your song and getting a shit ton of money for it is sooooo annoying," said Camila in a sarcastic tone.

"Alright," said Lauren, holding her hands up."Point taken."

They drove a couple more blocks before Camila parked on the side of the road in what seems to be a large, gray building. "We're here." Behind her car's compact mirror was a small storage space, in which the younger Latina retrieved a set of keys.

The Sun had completely set at this point, Lauren observed. The visible stars were shining and the moon was full, glowing in all it's cratered glory. It seemed to be leering down at Lauren; she was unsure whether it was warning her in disapproval or rejoicing that for once, Lauren detected Fate's handiwork. Camila took Lauren's wrist and lead her to the back door, smiling over her shoulder. "C'mon superstar, before security, sees us!"

She looked both ways before inserting the key and turning the knob. The door creaked, making an audible echo travel through the room. Lauren slowly closed the door behind her and faced Camila in the dim lighting of the museum. "Where to?"

"The exhibit is not too far away, follow me."

"What if we get caught, Camila, " She asked.

"Don't worry, " said Camila "The guards are practically deaf, they won't hear us."

Lauren didn't have the time to appreciate the art and sculptures of the museum. Granted, she's been there before but still. They turned a corner into a long, winding hallway.

At the end of the hallway was a wall decorated with golden quotes from, what Lauren guesses, are the artists; jutting out in the middle were third dimensions letters that spelled: 'Mystical Landscapes.'

Lauren was excited, to say the least; art and beautiful woman, who could ask for more?
They approached the entrance and once again, Camila fishes her keys from her pocket. The large double-doors towered over both of them, red in color. The soft lighting gratifying its color made Lauren feel uneasy; almost as if it warning her that once entered, there's no going back.

Nevertheless, she was in Camila's tow, admiring the girl's voluptuous backside as they stepped inside the exhibit.

"Welcome to the Mystical world of starved artists, Jauregui," Camila breathed.

Lauren's breath hitched in her throat as the first few paintings catch her eye. The artworks were perched upon walls of bright white, each set varying in arrangement. There were two leather couches in the middle of the room for observing. In her peripheral vision, she noticed the jaded, right angle corner of the room, leading deeper into the exhibit.

"Where do I start?" Lauren asked, still at a loss for words that in a matter of moments, she will be face to face with the works of legends.

"Anywhere really," said Camila. "Would you like a suggestion?"

Lauren nodded. "Come here," She said. Camila laced their fingers as they walked to the middle of the left wall. Lauren wasn't sure, but she could have sworn that Camila's cheeks became flushed when she took her hand. Before her was 'The Olive Trees' by Vincent Van Gogh.

"In the olive trees.." Camila started; Lauren was curious to see how she did her job and more importantly, her interpretation of the art.

"...is a great sense of energy, all of them expressing a vibrantly passionate spiritual response to the beauty of nature. While living in Arles, Van Gogh experienced a crisis that caused him to voluntarily check himself into an asylum nearby. Eventually, he was allowed to paint outside the asylum walls and no subject fascinated him more than olive orchards, which he approached with great excitement. You can see it in his energetic brushwork."

"Wow," said Lauren, wanting to add on to Camila with her own knowledge of Van Gogh "He was religious man, Van Gogh. It wasn't evident in his paintings unless you knew or read his letters. His need for religion was great and experienced divine presence in the orchards." Camila smiled, impressed and the younger Latina continued "Despite the biblical story of Christ in the garden of olives, Van Gogh did not feel the need to include a physical representation of God because as a divine being, He is - most especially in the orchards to Van Gogh -"

"Everywhere," They both said at the same time, reflexively turning their heads to each other with shit-eating grins on their faces - never having their sentences finished by another in the past.

And that's how it continued for the next hour. Camila would take Lauren to a specific or group of paintings and give historical and mystical context to it. Lauren was not shy about putting the information she learned from hours of documentaries to good use. They would occasionally engage in debates whether a painting is trying to convey the artists' dark mind or a perceived notion of a higher power at work. When the green-eyed woman was unfamiliar with the artist or work, she would silently listen intently to Camila. She made note of the trance Camila's words held on her, the way she grasped onto every word she says. Lauren soon settled that Camila may have beautiful physical features, but it could never compare to the unfathomable allure of her mind's depth and artistry.

Currently, she was standing alone in front of a painting she's unacquainted with- Eugene Jansson's 'Dawn Over Riddarfjarden'. It was Camila's favorite painting in the entire exhibition - precisely why she said they had to toast to it and left Lauren to contemplate the work.

At the sound of heels clacking against the floor, Lauren turns to see Camila with two champagne glasses and a bottle of chardonnay.
She hands her a glass and poured them a drink, filling it halfway. "What's so special about this particular piece?" asked Lauren. "It's curious isn't it?" started Camila. "That this painting is of the city of Stockholm when the exhibit has 'Landscapes' in the title. Well, Jansson saw the city in the same way others saw landscapes - isolated."

Lauren listened intently as she continued. "He focused on night imagery as he saw it as the only place where he could truly be himself without being persecuted by society. His night sky, even day time, paintings were largely dominated by the color blue. The day could be shining as bright as the Sun and he'd still paint it blue because he saw nothing but lethargic sadness in the world around him."

"He was gay, wasn't he?" Lauren guessed.

"How did you figure that out from the small information I just told you?" Camila asked curiously. "Wild guess. Also, the only thing illegal in Sweden in terms of identity was homosexuality until 1944," said Lauren, internally fist - pumping herself to remembering that fact from some documentary she forgot the name of.

Camila smiled and nodded. "He was. You know, I was practically in love with this painting when I was younger, I don't know why - it just spoke to me. It became clear when my dad tried to set me up with his business partner's son and all I could look at was his sister."

"You screwed his sister didn't you?" chuckled Lauren. She opened her mouth to protest but decided against it and said "Yes. Yes, I did."

"Did you ever tell your parents?"

"They kicked me out," said Camila nonchalantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry I-" Lauren started but Camila cut her off. "No, it's fine. I should thank them actually, otherwise, I would've never become the woman I am today. I had just turned 18 at the time and got accepted into Sorbonne so I took the first flight out to Paris and never looked back. There, I didn't have to hide anymore, I was free."

"To freedom," Lauren raised her glass, having resonated with what she said.

"To freedom, indeed" echoed Camila.

Half an hour and an empty champagne bottle later, the pair were sitting on a black, leather couch in front of the Riddarfjarden. Lauren was scribbling on a napkin with a pen Camila provided for her. The curator rested her head on the older Latina's head while her leg was draped over her. She could feel the vibrations from Lauren's humming travel through her body.

"What song is that? " Camila asked curiously.

"Something I'm working on since like, 10 minutes ago, " said Lauren. "Did looking at all these pieces of art inspire you?"

"It was certainly a work of art," said Lauren, looking at Camila directly in the eye. "But it was something that Van Gogh or Jansson could only dream of being their muse."

Camila's cheeks turn an embarrassing shade of red and focused her attention to the scribbles in an attempt to hide them. "Saw your face and got inspired," She uttered nonchalantly as if hearing it didn't make Camila's heart race so fast and loud enough for her to hear.

"It sounds good so far, sing it to me," said Camila, turning her body to face the older girl.

"Okay," She said and the familiar humming sound returned before Lauren started singing, "Working for the finer things
Getting in all kind of ways
Pennies all in my champagne
Every day we celebrate
Fuck your little funds a million ain't enough."

The husk in Lauren's voice as she sang was almost addictive; she saw now how thousands of girls could fan over one voice. "That's all I have so far," She said. Camila thought about the song before having an epiphany. "Got it! Sing the melody again."

"An art history genius and a musical one too? Damn Camz, what can't you do?" Lauren teased.

"Camz huh?"

"Yeah, figured you get 'Mila' too often. I wanted to be original."

"Okay....Lolo, sing it."

Lauren did as she was told and sang her verse again, this time Camila joined in after her. "If money doesn't fall from trees
Maybe we can make believe today
All I need is company
And rest assured I got it, babe."

Lauren bounced off of her lyrics into her own "But I'm still driving around in my Porsche kick
Living at home,
Got issues with my new chick,
She blowin' up my phone."
"Now all I hear is womp' womp', womp'"
A burst of laughter came from Lauren, causing the hazel eyed beauty to slap her on the arm, "Hey! Don't laugh."

"What the hell is a 'womp?'"

"It's the onomatopoeic word for like when your phone vibrates. And it went well with the beat so..."

"Alright, whatever you say Camz."

Then came the hard part of songwriting: writer's block. The flow of lyrics seemed to have stopped. "Okay, this isn't going anywhere. I'll just revisit this some other time when I haven't had half a bottle to drink," huffed Lauren.

"I have an idea. Come here," said Camila rising from the couch to face Jansson's artwork. Lauren now stood beside her, confused at what Camila was getting at.

"Close your eyes, Lauren."

"Is this the part where you reveal you've been an ax murderer this entire time?" She joked yet closed her eyes anyway.

"Just a little experimentation in inspiration is all," said Camila. The young brunette pressed herself against Lauren - her front against her back. She placed her lips next to Lauren's ear and whispered sensually, "Is this okay? "
Lauren nodded, feeling shivers coursed through her body. Camila traced the goosebumps forming on the woman's porcelain skin to place her hand directly above Lauren's own, grasping it. The curator lifted their palms to lightly graze Jansson's artwork.

The older woman gasped at the sensation of hard, rigid paint at her fingertips. "Feel the art coursing through you, Lo," said Camila.
The singer didn't know if it was simply because she was touching a classic artwork or that she could feel Camila's staggered breaths on her ear that she started singing. "Roll up an L and light it
Let's go to space
Be my co I'll be the pilot..."

Camila continued the song and husked "Let's get away, Let's get away. Let's get away." As she sang, the lyrics stopped being sung and became more of an order. "Let's get away, Laur."

Heavy breathing and rapid beating, Lauren turns around and her arms find themselves wrapping around Camila's waist. The brown eyed girl looped her arms around Lauren's neck and leaned in - their lips hovering over one another.

Both women were aware of the built up tension between them since the moment they laid eyes on each other. Tired of waiting for the older woman to make a move, Camila couldn't take it anymore and crashed their lips together. The kiss was as passionate as it was messy. Teeth, tongue, lips grinding as the pair defused the tension by devouring one another. Lauren was having a hard time breathing - every time she tried to catch it, Camila would capture her in another heated kiss. But, she didn't care as long as Camila kept kissing her like tomorrow would never come.

With the softest lips, yet hardest kisses on hers, Lauren let Camila lead her back against the wall, right next to the Riddarfjarden. Camila wasted no time in ridding Lauren of her leather jacket and white tee, while the latter was mercilessly groping the younger Latina's backside. "You're wearing too much clothing, Camz," huffed Lauren, tugging Camila's top over her head. She was delightfully met with bare chest and perky breasts.

"Shit, did you wanna make it easier for me?" asked Lauren, playing with both nipples and placed her thigh below Camila's clothed center, earning a moan and entrance to her mouth. Desperate for friction, the young curator began moving her hips on Lauren's thigh, no doubt creating a stain from her wetness through her thong. Lauren began to suck on her bottom lip and attached her teeth to it, pulling on it before releasing with a pop. She quickly switched their positions, Camila, now the one against the wall.
Lauren pulled back a slight to remove her bra and jeans, leaving her in just panties. Camila's eyes were glued to the plump breasts exposed before her, begging to be touched. Sensing what Camila wanted to do, Lauren shook her head "Later baby, this is all about you now." At that, Camila nodded - wanting to step over the edge as fast as possible.

"Please, Lauren," Camila groaned. The singer put Camila out of her misery by swirling her tongue over a taut nipple, alternating between the two.

Camila was in heaven. She shrieked and the double stimulation of grinding and getting her breasts sucked. After giving both breasts the attention they need, Lauren to roughly shove Camila's skirt down her legs.

Lauren dropped to her knees, her face directly above Camila's pussy. Inhaling, Lauren could sense the distinct smell of Camila's arousal - and it's intoxicating. "How bad do you want it, baby?" Lauren teased.

Camila growled, balling Lauren's jet black hair into her fist and pulled her where she wanted her "So fucking bad."

The girl below smirked and lifted Camila's right leg, making it wrapped around her neck. Her lips latched onto where her thighs met her center and began marking it as her own.

"Lauren just f-fuck me, already! Stop teasing," said Camila, unable to make coherent thought.
Lauren bit the string of her thong and trailed it down her thighs, stopping at her knees and letting it fall to her ankles. Instead of teasing her further, Lauren couldn't take one more second without tasting the ambrosia Camila produces. The younger woman threw her head back in pleasure as Lauren's mouth made direct contact with her clit, sucking on it. "You taste so fucking good, Camila," said Lauren, running her tongue past Camila's pussy lips.
The pop star decides to make fast, kitten like licks on her little nub. "Oh!" Camila shrieked.

"That's it, baby, you're eating my pussy so good."

Adding to her pleasure, Lauren teased her entrance with two fingers, making the woman above cry out. Lauren plunged her fingers into hot, molten core and started pumping away. Parting her lips from Camila's clit, she looked at the ethereal beauty above her; hard nipples heaving, mouth in a perfect ' O ' shape and brows furrowed in pleasure. "Look at it, it's practically dripping for me," said Lauren, increasing the pace of her fingers "You're so tight, baby."

Lauren knew Camila was close by the constant clenching around her fingers - she just needed the extra push over the edge. She moaned at the thought of Camila coming on her mouth and attached it once more to her pussy; endless amount of wetness paints Lauren's tongue, struggling to slurp the abundance of sweet arousal.

"Lauren...Laur..I'm..," Camila trailed off. She never wanted this pleasure to come to an end and focused on fighting off her orgasm. Her efforts were for naught when she locked eyes with Lauren below her at the same time the pop star lightly bit her clit and pushed her fingers as far as it would go, curling it in a rough patch of Camila's pussy. She was a goner and broke the dam, fending off her release. She screamed in pleasure, coating Lauren's lips and chin with her come.

The two women dare not break eye contact - brown orbs melting into green ones - as Camila rode out her orgasm. "Fuck, that was..."
Before Camila could fully catch her breath, Lauren instantly rises and turns her over - her front now pressed against the wall.

"Fuck, Lauren."

"We're not done yet."

Lauren grabbed a handful of ass and squeezed roughly while her lips were busy latching onto Camila's neck, leaving dark red marks in her wake. Camila threw her head back, loving the way Lauren touched her so delicately yet harshly; like she was being made love to and fucked thoroughly at the same time.
With Camila's ass in her hands, Lauren raised her hand and smacked the supple flesh. "Ugh! Yes. Please."

The singer's eyes dilated, even more so, at Camila's response. She did it again harder this time, earning a louder moan from the younger woman.

"What a naughty girl." SMACK! "You like to be spanked, don't you?" SMACK!

"Spank me harder, Lo. Spank me till my ass is burning good" breathed Camila. She proceeded to place her hands on the wall and bent over - jutting her ass out to meet Lauren's spanks.

"Okay but I need you to count baby," said Lauren, smoothing a cheek on her palm, ready for another blow.

After fifteen blows to her ass, Camila's throat felt like it was on fire from crying out. Her cheeks were beet red, palm prints were present, and a clear fluid was dripping down her legs.

"I'm so wet for you, Laur. Please, more," Camila begged.

"No," said Lauren. She tugged on the woman's petite body as she whined, pushing them back against the leather couch.

Lauren sat with Camila on her lap. She placed a kiss on the curator's shoulder blade and snaked her hands to grip at her thighs. The younger woman was confused, Lauren wasn't touching her; she quickly caught on when Lauren spread her legs and placed them on either side of her legs.

Camila was now spread open, in all her glory, before the legends of art. "Legends, history has its eyes on you, Camila," said Lauren "And they're going to watch as I fuck you into oblivion."

The younger woman braced herself at the prospect of one of her fantasies finally coming true. "Take me, baby, make me feel good. You're so -"

She was cut off by three fingers entering her core. "Fuck! Lauren! Yeah, oh shit, Fuck me!" Camila wailed. "Your pussy feels so good on my fingers, Camz," Lauren said into her ear. The green eyed woman grunted, ignoring the cramping in her arm, and thrusts her fingers faster and deeper, looking for Camila's g-spot. After bottoming her fingers into her core, Lauren flicked the tiny spot, making Camila groan in pleasure.

Meanwhile, Camila was meeting Lauren's thrusts, chasing her orgasm once more. The once silent room was now echoing skin slapping against one another, the lewd sound of the slickness of Camila's pussy and moans of pleasure.

Although not being touched, the filthy sounds coming from Camila's pretty lips could send Lauren over the edge alone. Wanting to make the younger woman see stars, Lauren groped her breast with her other hand, pinching and tugging on her nipple. "Don't stop, don't ever stop Lauren," said Camila.

It was all too much for Camila; Lauren's fingers inside her pussy, her tits being fondled with, the eroticism of being brought to the brink in front of her artistic idols. Through the haze of their lovemaking, it seemed the art was moving like a three-dimensional piece as if the artist's' them were manifested inside - cheering them on.

With a bite to her shoulder, Camila reached her octave's peak - throat dry after all the noises she'd been making - and spurted come to coat Lauren's fingers and the couch. Camila had never come like that before - it was definitely the most intense orgasm she'd ever had.
She fell back against Lauren, completely spent.

"Did you just squirt?" Lauren asked.

"Yeah. I guess I did," Camila turned her body, now straddling Lauren.

The younger Latina guided their foreheads together, never breaking eye contact. As their eyes come to terms with what their bodies had done, their breathing became even - became one. Lauren breathed in when Camila breathed in, slowly fading into one another.

It was Lauren, this time, that cut the tension by leaning in. By one tilt of her head, her lips were planted onto Camila's. Unlike their other kisses, this one was slow. It wasn't a kiss that was rushed or a tongue war, but it was a kiss to simply appreciate each other's lips. It was a kiss to remember the moment that would pass them by. It was a kiss that stopped time for they knew reality is lurking around the corner, ready to pounce on them.

The electricity traveling through their bodies, powering their actions, is something Lauren hadn't felt in a long time - if ever. Anybody before the woman on top of her was a mere spark; Camila was a fucking forest fire. But as she kissed Camila with as much fervor as she could muster, nothing mattered except the way their lips perfectly fit together and moved in sync.

After oxygen became an issue, the two women pulled away. Breaking the silence of their heavy breaths, Camila spoke: "What about you, baby?"

Lauren smiled endearingly. "You can make it up to me some other time, Camz."

"Well, can I make up to you in your hotel room?" asked Camila capturing her bottom lip between her teeth, unsure if she could take rejection after what they had just done. The signature Jauregui smirk was plastered on Lauren's face as she saw the curator's pupils dilate once more.

"What are we waiting for then?"

-

Needless to say, the pair traveled back to the Valencia - potentially having crashed multiple times from groping each other every chance they got.

Camila didn't have time to get fully acquainted with Lauren's room before she was being pushed back into the queen-sized bed.

They made love that night. They took their time, truly exploring each other's bodies; discovering little treasures on their way. Lauren traced her thumb over the small birthmark under the brunette's left collarbone; while Camila counted the freckles on the singer's face.

The pair were so caught up with each other that neither noticed the rays of sunlight creeping past white curtains.

"Shit," said Camila. "I have to go work." Lauren pouted and tightened her grip on the woman's waist. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Like I said, I have -" Camila started her protest but as soon as she met the emerald - gray, in that lighting - orbs that she has come to adore, she didn't have it in her to leave. She knew if Lauren asked her to stay, it would become her reflex to do so.

"Please don't go. Stay, Camila," pleaded Lauren.

Camila sighed and tried to fight the smile threatening to grace her lips. She cuddled next to her lover and buried her face into her neck.

"Thank you," said Lauren, placing a kiss on her head. Neither wanted to say it, but both wished they could never leave that bed.
So they both stayed.

-

A week of blissful serenity passed by them both; they slipped into a euphoric state from which they could not recover. In Havana, in that hotel room, they had no inhibitions; Lauren could be herself and Camila for once,
On the seventh day, Lauren returned to their room to find it tidy - something that became foreign to the both of them. "Camila?" Lauren called out, "Babe, are you here?"

It wasn't until she looked at her bedside nightstand that the singer noticed a note perched on top of it.

The note consisted of six letters and one, diamond ring - Lauren's ring - that Camila found. It read: I'm sorry. We'll always have Havana - Camila.

Lauren felt like crying but held back her tears. She knew this was coming; it was inevitable. Yet, she couldn't stop Camila from planting her roots in her. Lauren clenched the ring in her fist and proceeded to pick up her phone.

The line only rang once until the familiar voice on the other end picked up. "Lauren! Oh my god, baby, where are you? I'm sorry for whatever I did. Just come back home, okay?"

Lauren's throat felt like was on fire and forced the next words out of her mouth. "Yes, Keana. I'm coming home."