After having gone up with her company and gotten a better paying job, Betzaida Torres decided to do a little rooting around … catch up on her past. It took her a while but she was able to find her old crush Omar, and through him the rest of the old group. She continued phone calls, emails, and letters with the old gang from her young childhood years for a year. Found that Oscar had joined the military and was abroad. Omar had deviated from becoming a house designer to landscaping. It all seemed well, except for a few things. Edgardo was married and had kids; but then the wife divorced him, took the kids, but they both agreed not to tell the rest of the family why. But now he seemed to be doing okay and dating again. The other thing that bothered her was Norma, she seemed to go through periodic changes in mood from euphoric to manic depressive with each consecutive letter she received through the normal postal service.
It was April, Betzaida was surprised when going through the mail that she had been invited to Edgar and Noelle's wedding in July. She decided to RSVP and start getting ready for a vacation that month. It had been a long time since she had been to Puerto Rico. It would be good to family and the old haunts. Two weeks later she was checking her email when she got some very disturbing news. Norma had committed suicide. The only thing on her note was that all she held too many secrets and that all she wanted to say was in the mail.
In the mail
, that was an odd thing to say. Her answers to that puzzle were answered a few days later with the daily mail. Betzaida opened her mailbox to find her monthly subscription to Kitchen & Baths, the usual utility bills, her confirmation to the wedding to come, and a letter from Norma. Dreading what was to come, she opened that piece of mail last:
Querida B,
Only Maritza, you, and I are the only ones who know the true nature of my brother Edgardo. Yes, he returned to his old habits and that is why she divorced him. She didn't tell the rest of the family because if they didn't believe me, then they would probably not believe her as well.
I cannot dissuade Noelle from marrying him. I'm counting on you to open their eyes. You are smarter and more creative than me; and you were always the good one with the impeccable record.
I can't keep doing this and living with this burden. Do what you must, but I give up.
Remember me,
Norma
So that was it, all the pieces just seem to fit together suddenly. Betzaida read through all her mail once more, intent on learning as much as possible before formulating her plan. She took an extra week off, took a couple extra suitcases, and some extra purchases; but if things went to plan, getting a wedding present would not be necessary.
Late June came and Betzaida met up with family, did the routine visiting thing. She went to Norma's funeral, met with Noelle and the rest of the old friends. Noelle insisted that they should do lunch and really get to know each other. Norma was to be her maid of honor, but seeing as Betzaida was her closest friend Noelle hoped that she would take up the honor. Betzaida agreed thinking this was a good way to get to know this innocent woman better.
Noelle was not a
Boricua
, she was only half-puertorrican
.
Born and raised in Louisiana, she and her family moved away to Puerto Rico after Hurricane Katrina to be closer to her father's side of the family for assistance. Though being so far away, she and her mother seemed to hold their old beliefs of Wicca and other practices; so this was not to be the typical Catholic wedding that Edgardo's family wanted. Noelle was sweet, kind, and seemed to be so in love with him that she seemed to be putting work and other duties in the back-burner, to her mother's chagrin. It was time to open up her eyes.
After lunch with Noelle, Betzaida decided to make a call. "He Ed, it's B. Would you like to meet me at Old San Juan at the dove park?"
They met up just outside the park at dusk. Betzaida was dressed in a beautiful white dress with red flowers; it had thin 1-inch straps that lined up perfectly to the seam line that went over her breasts. She noticed him following the line down, she knew she would.
"You grew up nice B," Edgardo said clearing his throat. They started walking up and down the cobbled streets of San Juan; catching up on each other's lives. They passed by closing shops, bars, and other clubs. Passing by one of these clubs Betzaida just had to stop and dance to. Edgardo admired the swaying movements of her rounded hips the motions of her body. "You still have a nice ass," he commented when they resumed walking.
"No I don't," she replied, "it's larger than it was then. Then again, a lot of me has grown since then." She turned to look at him straight in the face. The next thing she knew he was pulling he close and kissing her. Betzaida kissed him back with the same ardor, but pulled back breathlessly. "Do you want to really see the rest of me," she asked him. He responded with a definite, and she gave him an address to a hotel room to meet up at on Monday mid-day. So the trap was set.
That Monday Betzaida called up a florist and had a dozen red roses delivered to Noelle's office. On them a card that read: "I miss you, meet me after work at that hotel down the street from your office."
Earlier that morning Betzaida had brought her extra suitcase over to the hotel room and began setting up things here and there. Some rope, a tape recorder, and a couple extra items in the nightstand drawer. It had been many years since the last time Edgardo had seen her. Yet there she heard him knocking at the door. Betzaida went to open the door and noticed him looking her up and down. She wore a long brown skirt and a nice button-up blouse. As soon as she closed the door Edgardo took her into his arms and gave her a long kiss. Apparently she had more of an effect on him now than she had anticipated.
She coyly slipped from his grasp and walked away from him. "I'm not the same innocent girl you knew way over a decade ago. I've grown and learned so much in all this time."
"You still seem just as sweet to me," he said coming up behind her. He slowly slid his hand up her arms, lightly playing with the sleeve of Betzaida's blouse and feeling the heat of her body through the thin fabric.
"But I have changed," she turned to face Edgardo and started playing with a bit of fluff on his shirt. "And I also think you may not want to play along with what I had in mind."
"Betsy, I think I can take anything you can come up with. Just lay it on me!"
He was always so cocky, so full of himself. A mile curved her lips. "Alright tough guy. Do you think you can handle a brief game of 'Truth or Dare?"
He laughed. He dared to laugh at her! But she didn't care, she was going to have Edgardo crying in the end. "Sure, and I'll go ahead and start . . . Truth."
"I was hoping you'd say that. Do you find appealing how I've grown into all my curves?"
He looked her up and down, "Babe it's hard to say with what you are wearing!"
"Are you
daring
me to take off … my shirt?"
He nodded and she proceeded to take off her blouse starting with the buttons and going one by one. She could see the look of surprise on his face as he saw Betzaida was wearing a tan brocade corset beneath it. It pushed her breasts up to two beautiful mounds and left the tiniest hint of areola peeking from the edges. Edgardo reached a hand up to touch them and she smacked his hand down.
"You can look but you can't touch . . . Yet." She took his hand and led him to the bed where she sat him down and strapped his hand down with a rope so tightly he cringed a little. "For your offense your had will be bound until the end of the game. Play nice and you get rewarded. And it is your turn again."
"Dare."
"I
dare
you to take off my skirt, one handed." He completed his dare, though clumsily. As the skirt fell to the floor it revealed legs that went from here to eternity. They started with high-heeled knee-high boots and ended at a little lace thong. He tried to run his free hand up the back of one thigh.
Quickly Betzaida took his hand and twisted it away. "You are still a bad boy. I told you not to touch. Now I'm going to have to tie this one up too." She laid him back against the headboard and reached the other side of the bed for the other rope. "Okay now it's my turn, Dare."
"Well since I seem to be needing to do a little catch up on the clothing department and my hands are tied up, I
dare
you to take my clothes off."
"With pleasure," she said as she leaned over and kissed him deeply. Betzaida slid her tongue between his lips and tasted him. This of course was just a distraction as she slid her fingers in one of her boots and drew out a silver dagger and raised it up to his stomach.
"Whoa what do you plan to do with that," he exclaimed after being caught off guard.
"Well the ropes are in the way, but they have to stay. And you told me to take off your clothes. What? You don't trust me?"
He seemed apprehensive, but he conceded. She started from the bottom and started popping one button at a time, then cut a slit on the back before tearing the shirt in two. Then she licked and nibbled at his neck while undoing his pants before they finally could be slid off. And last but not least were his boxer briefs; well at least they weren't the tighty-whities of years ago. Betzaida cut those off too!
"I believe it is your turn now," she told him as she cradled his testicles in her hand. "Truth or Dare?"
He drew in a heavy breath, "Truth."