Seventeen
SEVENTEEN
Orlando
N othing prepared me for dancing with Trinidad Velasquez. No previous fetes, no signature moves, nor the perfect whine I thought I’d mastered readied me for the sway of her hips and ass against me.
Ms. V transformed into full Hot Gyal right before my eyes when we stepped into the dance area inside the yacht. Machel Montano tunes had replaced the steel drum band, and the area was full of couples enjoying the vibes.
We started with a slow whine, and I left a space for Jesus, not wanting to assume. Trinidad took charge, her white dress hugging her hips and behind as she inched closer to me to the beat of the music. The soca dictated our every move, and soon we were whining the yacht down, her soft ass cradling my inevitable nascent hardness.
Montano urged us to take it slow, and I did, getting lost in the goodness of feeling Trinidad so carefree and soft against me. Every few seconds, she’d bend completely over, speeding up the mesmerizing circles against me and sneaking a look over her shoulder.
“Ms. V, why you playin’ with me.” I groaned as she started an eight pattern up and down, up and down, until she had me hard as Mjollnir. Ten…nine…eight…seven, that was the only thing left to do. If I counted, maybe I’d be able to reduce some of the sweet tension gathering in my spine and the urge to bend her all the way down and cause a scene in this party. Because Lawd, this woman was tempting.
The song became a faster tune, and Trinidad gave me a reprieve, turning around and throwing her arms over my shoulders. Her gorgeous face glowed with excitement and the sweat we’d created together. She’d never look happier to me than this time. We both sang along to the popular soca song, bodies in tune, mimicking what I desperately wanted to happen between us.
“You were right; I was long overdue for a good time,” she shouted over the music.
“I’m always right,” I said smugly, holding on for dear life and my composure. I wanted so badly to kiss her.
“So, kiss me then,” she taunted. I paused, wondering if she’d infiltrated my thoughts. She bit her bottom lip, inviting me to taste, and who was I to resist such an alluring invitation? We lost ourselves to the beat of the music and the taste of our lips until we were grinding together; soon, we’d end up dry humping just like earlier.
“Fuck, Trinidad, this feels so fucking right. You feel it too, don’t you? You see how it could be?” I said, panting against her lips.
“I… I yes but…stability, I need…something like Milton… I—”
I kissed her again because fuck Milton, fuck stability—even though I was certain I could give everything she wanted and more. She was such a good mother, willing to sacrifice her happiness for her children because this was happiness; this was her fulfilled and living life. But Trinidad had convinced herself along the way that a staid marriage would be the answer to all her dilemmas.
I had four days to prove her wrong.
* * *
The door slammed behind me, the sound reverberating through the rental. I couldn’t get enough of Trinidad. We ended up in the living area, standing in the middle of the room, my fingers pressed into her waist. The yield of her body under my fingers, the intoxicating kisses tasting of spices and rum. Everything about Trinidad had drugged me until I convinced her to leave the party, desperate for some privacy.
“Take this off,” Trinidad commanded, and I rushed to remove my shirt. The rental had warmed while we were out, just enough for comfort. Soft fingers trailed over my arms, ghosting down my chest, snagging on the waistband of my pants. Trinidad paused, her entire being focused on me, and that shit hit me on the chest. My entire body trembled at the power of her attention. Her deep brown eyes kept me still as she shoved my pants down, underwear, and everything.
“I wanted to see the whole of you,” she whispered, and I reveled in the slow perusal she conducted with her eyes. Every spot she looked at tingled in attention until I felt I would burst out of my skin.
“I need you; I’ve been so hungry for you,” Trinidad confessed.
Fuck. I needed to make sure she was whole. This was it. I needed to show her how it could be with us because words were not going to be enough, not for someone like her. Someone so secure and sure in her path in life. I admired her resilience, and I wanted to honor her bravery today with my body.
I knelt down in front of her, the scent of her earthy and ripe, ready for my worship. My mouth watered as I lifted the white cotton fabric, finding her bare underneath.
Breath whooshed out of me as her melodious laughter filled the room and poured into me.
“Sorpresa!” she said.
My hands shook, activated by the vibrations of her body as her hilarity subsided.
Somehow, I managed to wrench my eyes away from the prettiest pussy I’d ever seen, plump and wet, all ready for me. I searched her face. Last time we’d moved so fast, I hadn’t had time to really enjoy the view, but this time was different. Fuck, she was beautiful. Once I paid close attention to her expression, I realized we were both truly in this together.
Bravado. That is what I found.
Her grin split wide but trembled at the corners.
“Ms. V, are you nervous?”
“Mr. Wiggins, what do you think?” Trinidad’s eyebrow arched so high it infected me with her laughter.
“Oh, so we busting out the last names right now?” I showed her I, too, could arch my eyebrow with the best of them.
“Sí, if you can do it, yo también puedo.” She winked, and somehow, I fell even more for her.
“Alright, Ms. V, let’s see what we have here.”
“Stop it; you already saw it!” she tittered. I made Ms. V titter. I’m not going to lie, my chest puffed out in pride.
“I did, but not in this type of detail; I was rushing last time. I want to slow down, enjoy, and eat my full,” I whispered against her velvety, plump lips.
“Dios mío,” Trinidad mumbled, and I guffawed.
“Nah, that’s not my name, but I’m flattered.” I couldn’t help myself.
“Boy, if you don’t start!” Trinidad shuffled and ghosted my finger over her mound until I found her swollen clit. My thumb took over, and soon, I found the right rhythm, evidenced by the glistening wetness growing between her thighs; the breathy moans she couldn’t help but let out. Shit, her fucking scent grew stronger and more alluring, and I got closer, needing to lick her clitoris just a little. Touching her with my thumb wasn’t enough anymore. I wanted to give her a different experience than last night, but damn if I didn’t want to drown in her essence.
The warm nub brushing my tongue felt like heaven, and just as she gasped, I took advantage of her body, yielding to me, and I slid two fingers inside of her.
“Bendito! I can’t remember the last time I was fingered,” she exclaimed.
“How do you like it?” I separated myself enough from her to watch her again. She’d dragged her dress down her cleavage, and her large chocolate nipples were on full display. And her areola… I had to squeeze tight to keep myself from orgasming too soon at the sight of the largest, most inviting areolas. I kept thinking it, but Trinidad was truly a masterpiece. Her titties with the sizable chocolate circles, diamond-hard nipples, and that little sag would ruin me. And I would gladly go to destruction if she just allowed me to keep worshiping her for the rest of our lives.
Oh shit.
A rushed mixture of cold and warmth flooded through me, the palpitations of my dick and heart in tandem as the full realization of my feelings for Trinidad settled in my head. I understood infatuation, and I understood love. But this was some other shit, some vast, indescribable feeling of fullness and emptiness all at the same time. Of craving, acceptance, and peace rolled in together. I’d admired her from afar for long, and now… . now here I was kneeling at her feet, showing her my feelings with deed and action.
Nothing had prepared me for this. Thank God for my body, which had kept the task at hand, my middle and index fingers making my dick jealous at the tight, gooey creaminess surrounding them. Trinidad’s pussy became audible, the squelching sounds of my fingers indicating she was ready for one more. So, I gave it to her.
“Jesus Alabao!” She praised or cursed God, and I applied myself fully to my task. My hand rushed up her body, pinching one of her nipples, aiding her in her self-caresses as I continued to taste and discover all the ways she loved to be revered.
“Orlando, dale, por favor…dale, ya!” Trinidad’s desperate pleas were barely coherent as I continued to read her like my precious Miles Morales comics until, with a last cry to the heavens, she dissolved into pure liquid heat, pouring her ecstasy onto me.
And I tasted it all.
It tasted like home.
She tasted like paradise.
She tasted like every day after today.
And that is when I realized I was in love with Trinidad Caridad Velasquez Rodriguez.