EDITING My Sugar Momma {Lesbian Story}

forty three

Hello friends, welcome back! This has been painfully slow to write but here you go! ❤️

During our flight, we made a few fuel stops so by the time we got to our destination, I was growing giddy with excitement. A lot of our time on the plane from there was spent with Layla teaching me how to play chess since there were many hours to pass. She let me win most games even though she was clearly better. 

The unfortunate part of the trip was that as we grew closer to the destination, the nightmares returned. It was always the same one. 

A hazy figure that gets closer until I recognize who it is. It's Jack. He always goes on about what he'll do to me but he always gets cut off by a gunshot. The wound is right in the centre of his forehead. He's still standing as the blood begins to trickle down his face. He's still grinning at me as the blood begins to heavily pour over his face, into his teeth and down his chin. 

"You're mine now, Brielle." His words chilled me and I would struggle to move from him but he continued to hold onto me. 

It would last until soothing words from Layla shifted the dream or I woke myself up. 

We were sitting together on the couch when I awoke from another nightmare. Layla spoke me with a smile. "Shh, my love. We're almost there." She was calm and collected as always but there was a hidden excitement. It was clear by the sparkle in her gaze that I was drawn to. 

Looking out the window and into the distance was a collection of islands scattered across the ocean. Islands were outlined with turquoise waters and light sand. Excitement now filled my chest as we got closer. 

After a few moments of us admiring the destination, Layla spoke. "I should warn you about our destination."

I gave her a hesitant expression. "Why?"

Layla smiled as she recalled her reasoning. "The old woman who takes care of where we're staying, is very strict."

"Oh, that's not too bad." I tilted my head with confusion as I spoke.  

She turned me in her arms, a serious expression on her face. "Brielle, you don't understand. This woman once hit me with a stick because I wore shoes in my own house."

A giggle left me. "You sound like a child being scolded by their grandmother."

Layla sighed but then smiled. "I think she'll like you though. Everyone falls for you in some regard."

Warmth bloomed along my face. "You think so?"

She kissed my cheek. "Very much so." 

The overhead speaker buzzed with an incoming announcement. "We are about begin our descent to Ile De Mon Amour." Carlos then advised to buckle seat belts but I was trying to figure out the translation of the island's name. 

"Ile? Is it French?" I asked Layla after realizing my lack of French speaking skills. 

"Yes. Ile De Mon Amour is My Love's Island or Island of My Love in French." Layla explained before giving a soft kiss on the forehead. 

"Oh... I see." Even though she likely had the island before me, my cheeks burned slightly. I wondered what had caused her to name it something so romantic. 

Pulling my attention away were the beautiful blue waters and the islands that looked to be floating on them. The plane brought us closer to one with its own runway and seemed to have a small city on it. 

Once the plane landed, we descended the stairs only to be met with some locals holding bouquets made of bright tropical flowers. 

"Welcome back, Miss Holt." An older lady greeted warmly before handing her a bouquet. Then she turned to me, her smile widening. "Ah! A princess!" She was a short, stout woman but her deep smile lines and grey hair were the only signifiers to her age.