Page 53 of Ms. V's Hot Girl Summer

Trinidad

The scents of sleepy male and Orlando’s cologne were the first things I registered when I escaped sleep’s clutches in the morning. The day’s heat already battled to infiltrate the rental, the sunrise way past us. No Jouvert for us; after the first round downstairs, Orlando carried me upstairs, where he proceeded to show me his youthful exuberance and reminded me of mine. We fell asleep, tangled in his sheets, after words that only served to let us grow closer, and woke up for a fourth round as the sun first made its appearance.

He rolled away from me, mumbling something about texting his friends about not going, then gathered me close, the big spoon completed with an impressive semi-erect penis that currently lay deceptively calm against my behind. That dick wasn’t fooling anyone; it had the girth, the stamina, and the capacity to go, go, and go. My sore legs and other areas were a testament to its prowess.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Orlando whispered in my ear.

“Excuse me? I am not the sleepyhead; it’s you; I could have woken up and gotten ready for Jouvert if only you hadn’t—” My chest jumped in joy as Orlando handled me like a feather headpiece, placing me right how he wanted me. His heavy weight settled between my legs, and his strong arms extended next to me, keeping our chests a few inches apart.

“Don’t make me remind you how you screamed my name while coming; you wouldn’t have been able to do that if we had gone to Jouvert.”

“Sir, we did that the whole night. What do you mean I wouldn’t have done it?” The bubble of happiness nestling in my belly couldn’t be contained.

“Oh shit, that’s right, I did make you come, five times if I remember exactly. That doesn’t count this morning,” he bragged. The man-child was too damn cocky for his own good. That must be the Jamaican in him. But he wasn’t a man-child, and I wasn’t old; it was just Trinidad and Orlando, both of us exhausted after a long night of passion and ready for carnival day.

We both were caregivers, and thrived in it, and sometimes we both neglected our other needs. But the possibilities of what we could be together…my chest warmed at the thought of actually being with someone that understood all my values, and had similar ones. Someone that would understand that we would both sometimes have to put others first, but we together would always be the beginning and the end. My joy bubbled up in my chest ready to burst all over.

“No one likes a show-off.”

“That’s not what you said last night.” He stared at me and shook his head in disappointment. “How you gonna be a good example for the twins if you be lying like this?”

My entire body shook with laughter, and Orlando’s eyes almost went crossed, zeroing in on my chest.

“Your titties are so. Fucking. Beautiful.” Each punctuation was a peck on each of my nipples. I moaned, moisture already gathering where I needed him the most. Pressing against him, I shared the urgency growing within me.

“Aht, aht. You said I was showing off, so no penis for you, ma’am.” He shook his head.

“Did you just Seinfeld me?” At this point my laugh was so out of control I was gasping for breath and dislodged Orlando off me, rolling to lie on my tummy.

“I sure did, gotta keep up with you, old lady.” Orlando winked, slapping my ass cheeks, the sting minimal; he’d purposely done it to make it jiggle. And it did.

“I’ll show you an old lady,” I growled, throwing my arm over him. We rolled in bed, tussling, warm sheets catching around our limbs until I couldn’t decipher where he started and where I ended. When he slid in, after placing the condom on, I sighed, the delicious soreness so good I would be walking funny in the airport tomorrow.

The airport.

Tomorrow.

Not letting the intrusive thoughts take over. Instead, I let him take me on a sweaty, sensual ride, our hips moving in tandem until we both shuddered, mouths merged in a forever kiss.

“Now, get off me, woman! I have things to do!” Orlando playfully shoved me to the side after pulling out of me and went to the restroom, his smooth little ebony ass bouncing side to side. I should tell him that and see how riled up he’d get by my observation. I couldn’t say anything, though, because when he came back, he took his time cleaning me up and wiping all the residue of our playing away with such gentleness my tough Dominican ass almost buckled and cried. But I didn’t because I was tough and because we were an hour away from needing to head out to the carnival grounds.

“Are you nervous?” I asked him not wanting to remind him too much, but I was so filled with anticipation.

“Honestly nah, I am good, I can’t wait to talk to Maria… I think she and I will figure something out that will work for both of us.” Orlando’s confidence washed over me with quiet assurance. To see him so determined to co-parent, and co-parent well, meant so much to me. A little annoying voice reminded me that he had too much on his plate to add me to it, trying to ruin my good mood. But I was done giving those types of thoughts any air. I wanted to be in the moment, with Orlando.

My needs had gone neglected for so long, that I’d lost track of what I required to make me happy, to make me healthy. Being Brandon and Brian’s mom did not mean I needed to sacrifice Hot Girl Trinidad to the altar of motherhood. The beauty of being a woman was that I was all encompassing, all potential, all me.

“Alright, you gotta get your costume on!” I reminded him, unwilling to meet his gaze. The fullness of emotions there still spooked me, but the joy bursting out of my chest didn’t allow the fear to fester. Today was a beautiful day.

Today was Carnival Day.

There would be time to think about tomorrow, tomorrow.

“What do you mean I get a costume too?” I wasn’t proud of the girlish squeal coming out of me, but Orlando and Grace had surprised me with a midline costume from the same section of the Power by Four band they had joined. The headpiece feathers were a majestic aqua and green, a beautiful contrast to Orlando’s light and dark blue headpiece. The body was a mixture of purples and aqua and blue, finishing the touches with a tight sparkly blue girdle.

“Of course you do. Your man had us on a mission yesterday! The band at first said they had no extra costumes, so we kept coming back until they finally confirmed they’d had a last-minute cancelation. The poor woman got sick on the plane and ended up bedridden for most of her trip, so she sold the costume to your man there.”

Be still my tracionero heart. I didn’t need this palpitation this early in the day. The way Orlando had shown me that being cared for was imperative for him had opened my eyes to how much I would have given up if I’d settled for someone like Milton. There was nothing wrong with him, nothing at all, but we were not compatible. Our ideals, although aligned, didn’t seem to mesh well in the bright sunlight. It had taken this trip for me to realize my stubbornness had blinded me to the truth.

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