"But you did," she said to him, as she shifted in her position "and you've done it one too many times".
"That was when I was a kid, back when I was too self-centered, too focused on having other kids like me and too scared to stand up for something, in fear of being ostracized. But, now, I am man—
Somalia made another scoff and then said, "Just because you have hair on your nuts, have a minimum-wage job but living off of a trust fund, a defunct-marriage and now have an eight-pack doesn't mean that you're a man, sonny!" She knew that her insult had struck a nerve with him, when she saw his eyes narrow and his jaw's muscles clench. "Did I hit a sore spot for you?" she said in a taunting way.
Tristan tried to feel angry at her, but he was finding it to be hard. There, she was: his dream girl, laying in a bed and looking ripe for picking. Her skin was flushed and appeared to be glowing. Her thick, curly hair was styled to the side and looked unruly, as if she had just finished having a romp in the hay. His eyes were drawn to her chest, thanks to the plunging neckline of her dress. Her cleavage looked alluring as it moved with every inhalation and exhalation. His eyes traveled to another favorite part her body. She had her legs free from under the blanket. Her right knee was bent and propped up while her left leg was extended in front of her. Her tangerine-colored dress was pushed up to her torso and off of her legs. The comforter was strategically positioned in between her thighs.
"Are you ever going to forgive me for all of the stupid shit that I've done, when I was a kid? Or are you going to hold it against me for the rest of your life?" Tristan asked her.
"No, I don't forgive you, because I think you're not sorry at all."
"I am sorry about all of it!" he said to her, with his voice rising in volume. He could feel the twinges of frustration burning at him. Here he is, trying to make her understand that he was remorseful of his behavior and she is not believing him. "I was a fucking kid and so were you. I would have hope that you would've grown out—
In the speed that it takes to blink an eye, Somalia was kneeling in front of him, on the mattress. Her sudden movement had caused to Tristan to jump back, in alarm. Her eyes were wide and filled with anger. Without screaming or yelling at him, she gave him a warning. Her voice was low and calm, but it held an intensity that was barely contained.
"DON'T. YOU. FUCKING. DARE. MAKE LIGHT OF MY PAIN!" she said to him with her eyes trained on him. "It's bad enough I had to hear that shit from my parents, who taught me to feel bad for feeling bad! For them, all I had to do was just focus on my academics and make sure I don't lose my scholarship! They didn't care that their only daughter was thinking about killing herself! They were thinking about how good that they were going to look in front of their friends! At school, I had to listen to my teachers tell me that I should be 'strong enough' to not let insults bother me; that I should focus on the opportunities that I am receiving at Walcott! I watched my coaches turn a blind eye to it! Just as long as one of you fucks didn't bang me up to the point where I couldn't play in a Friday night game. Otherwise than that, my coaches didn't give a shit! To a lot of those people, I was just another statistic, a faceless student, a black student to fill out their diversity and just a big, black nigger that they were forced to deal with! So, don't you dare say anything to me about 'getting over it'! I refuse to hear that shit from your ass! " She fell silent with the exception of her panting.
He noticed a tear sliding down her right cheek. He wanted so desperately to wipe it away. Her body trembled with anger. Her anger was coming off so strong that it made goose pimples form on his arms. But he noticed that she was feeling something else. He received his answer a few seconds later, when she sat on her haunches and burst into tears. Her arms wrapped themselves around her body while she cried. A soul-crushing sob had escaped, which made Tristan's sorrow increase ten-fold.
At this point, Somalia didn't care if she looked like a crying idiot in front of Tristan. The relief that she felt at this moment was too good of a moment. Soon, she felt his arms pull her onto his lap and hold her onto her, as she released all of the pent-up sadness and anger that was kept inside of her for thirteen years.
Somalia didn't know how long she cried, but by the time she was done, she felt physically different. Her headache returned from the exertion of her sobbing. She felt the swelling of her eyes. She also felt lighter like an invisible amount of weight as been pulled out of her. She knew that it had to do with the fact that the majority of the burden that she was holding onto was now gone.
"I'm sorry."
The apology had come from the large man that was still cradling her in his arms. Somalia gazed up at him and murmured a "huh?" which earned a chuckle from him.
"I said that I am sorry for all of things that I've done to you..." he explained to her. His hands caressed her back and shoulders while his chin rested on the crown of her head. "I'm not going to make any excuses for my behavior, because there isn't any justifiable reasoning."
"Oh, oh okay," she whimpered, before resting her head against his left shoulder.
The suite's bedroom was silent. Somalia knew that she shouldn't have felt relaxed as she sat on his lap. Her body screamed in delight as his hands massaged at her scalp, as well as, her left arm and shoulder. She knew that she should've been angry and should've been lashing out at him. Instead, she felt content, lighter and relaxed, as she stared out of the large bedroom window, at the scenic Mountain View.
"Pretty view," she said aloud, to no one in particular.
"What?" he said to her, with his lips lightly brushing against her forehead.
"The view" she said, lightly, as she pointed at the window, "it's beautiful".
He stared out the window at the mountains.
"Yeah, it's nice but not as beautiful as you" he said to her, which earned a 'ugh' from Somalia. "What? It's true. I would rather stare at you instead of some big pile of rocks."
"Ugh, does those corny ass pick-up lines work?" she asked him as she adjusted herself on his thick, muscled thighs. Unbeknownst to Somalia, her ample derriere brushed against her groin, which stirred his cock from its slumber.
"That was not a pick-up line, when it was the truth," he said to her, hoping that his erection won't be detected.
"Yeah, whatever, Casanova," she said to him as she settled into his lap. Her arms were now wrapped around his waist and her face was close to nuzzling the curve of his neck. "Casanova who smells like roses and..." She then set his loins aflame by placing her face close to the sensitive part of his neck and taking a whiff. "...my cucumber-melon body wash that I bought from Bath and Body Works," she stated. Her breath had tickled him and he felt his arousal grow even more. "It's not bad on you. I always thought that it would be weird smell, if it was on a guy, but on you..." Her voice trailed off; when she felt his hands pull at her upper body. His hands asked of her to sit up on his lap and she complied. Somalia stared at his face and saw that he appeared angry. She wondered if he was angry at her and for whatever reason. "Tristan, are you—
Somalia did not get to say another word, due to his lips crashing down on hers, as he supplied her with a kiss. It was a kiss that held passion. She groaned in surprise, but then whimpered in pleasure. She whimpered again, when she felt his tongue slide into her mouth, once his kisses had become more passionate. As they kissed, she felt his hands tug at her dress and touch at her skin. With every caress, her body would crave for more contact. A shudder trickled down her spine, when she felt his fingers touch the bare flesh of her back. He managed to roll down the zipper of her dress and slide the material off of her. Now, topless and with her breasts exposed, his mouth left hers and travel down to her neck. He sucked, licked and bit at the sensitive skin before traveling lower. Her hands encouraged him with his journey as they cradled his face and urged him to continue. When his lips reached her mounds of flesh, his lips clamped onto a brown, puckered nipple and sucked with a strong force.
"Oh, Tristan" she gasped, as her hips writhed on his lap.
Her ass rubbed against his cock as it lay against his left thigh. His grunts of pleasure would vibrate through her titty and she would groan at the sensation. With each swiped at his meat, her pussy became wetter and begged for some contact. As if reading her mind, she felt his hand drifted down to her cunt and felt his fingers play at her slit. Her hips bucked at the contact.
"Oh, fuck, shit" she gasped. Her hips rocked against his prick, in a fast pace, which made his grunt and nip lightly at her breast. His fingers rubbed at her clit in big, rough circles that sent tiny, shocks of pleasure through her body. "Tristan" she gasped.
With his hand, still playing at her cunt, Tristan changed her position on his lap. Her back was now pressed to his chest. The back of her head was now resting on his right shoulder. Her ass was still rubbing up against his cock and her legs were spread apart, revealing her cunt and giving him more access to it. With his mouth no longer on her tits, his left hand now took its place. His fingers rubbed and kneaded at the flesh while his right fingers rubbed at her heated core. For Tristan, the sounds of her pleasure were music to his ears.
"Tristan," she cried.
"You like how I am making your pussy feel" he groaned in her ear. With her constant grinding against his dick, it wasn't long before he felt the build-up forming at the base of his nuts. He didn't want to cum inside of a towel. He wanted his cock to be buried deep within her snatch, when he exploded.
"Oh, God, yes" she moaned.
"Do you want me to fuck you?" he asked in a whisper. Then, his fingers slipped away from her aroused center and delivered a slap to it. In response, her hips jerked, a shaky wail escaped her and a blunt wave of pleasure shot through her. He repeated his question to her.
"Yes," she whimpered.
"Tell me that you want me to fuck you," he demanded, as he continued with the strict swats to her cunt.
"I-I want-want you to fuck me... Oh God," she moaned as her bottom and pelvis lifted up in the air.
Tristan took the opportunity to remove the towel from around his body. His cock sprung up from its confines with a dribble off pre-cum sliding down from its tip. He grabbed a hold of the shaft's base with his left hand while his right one spread her cunt's lips apart, to reveal her canal. With the aid of his hand, he guided her to sink down onto his erected member. He was patient with her as she taken her time. He was aware that she hasn't been sexually active in a long time. The lovers groaned at the sensation from the fusion of their two bodies. For a brief moment, her body was still, as she adjusted to his girth and length. Her walls would contract around him and he bit down the urge to withdraw and then ram into her. Instead, he had shown her tenderness during this time with his kisses and tight embrace.
Once Somalia's hips begin to writhe, he let go of her. His hands had gone to her womanly hips. "Ride me," he commanded, in a lust-filled groan.
"I don't know how to," she confessed. Even though she wasn't a virgin, she wasn't experienced.
"I'll show you, baby" and then, with the aid of his hands, showed her how to move. With every vertical movement her hips made, a wave of pleasure washed over her. It would start deep inside of her, spread to her clit, to her nipples and burn out in the pit of her belly. She would cry out at the sensation. "There you go, baby, there you go," he grunted. Once he figured that she had a handle on things, he lain back, on the bed. His hands gripped onto her hips and were lulled by her movements.
'You shouldn't do this,' her conscience reported.
'You shouldn't be doing this.'
You shouldn't be doing this, Molly. Girl, what are you doing?' her mind shouted at her. 'He's Julian's father, remember? Girl, he had broken your heart once before. Do you remember that time? Girl, he is probably going to leave you heart-broken once again and with another baby in your gut. Then, what? You are going to be a single mother of two kids...'
"Shut...up," she moaned to herself, in particular to her nagging thoughts, as she rode Tristan's cock. To shut off her conscious, she opened her eyes and gazed down at where their bodies were joined. She groaned from pleasure at the sight. His white shaft was appearing disappearing and then re-appearing as it moved in and out of her pussy. His balls, which were darker in color and covered in flaxen-colored hair, twitched. Her soft hand palmed the objects and massaged them. In result, Tristan moaned, lifted his hips off the bed and gave five, hard thrusts. "Oh, shit," she screamed, louder than she intended. She leaned forward, spread her legs wider and planted her hands on his thighs. In this slightly new position, the penetration felt deeper, his cock's head grazed her G-spot and the pleasure was greater. Her loud groan occurred behind her and she felt his hands tighten their embrace on her hips. A lump of a familiar sensation had formed at the pit of her stomach and was seeping down into her sex. "Oh," she moaned, as her lower lips pulsated. She picked up the pace and was rewarded with spasms that ripped through her lower region. "Oooh, oh, oh, God I'm cumming!" she moaned loudly.
