Amina stood on the side of me, and you could tell that she was in awe. Swear I saw the glow in her eyes as she watched them perform and have a good time. They were out here twirlingaround with decorated umbrellas, waving headkerchiefs in the air, and dressed in bright, color coordinated outfits.
“This is so beautiful,” Amina eventually said something after two minutes of standing there, taking it all in. I laughed while looking down at her.
It was her innocence towards a lot of things that drew me to her. I loved overly feminine, and girly women, and she was just that. She sits in the truck with me every day, and I know that there would have been a great amount of women that would have preferred to be comfortable, and probably ride around in their bonnet all day, and lounge in their pajamas. Amina didn’t do that. She showered each morning and put on outfits. Even if sometimes her outfits were just sweatpants and a tank top, she still made that shit look good. She would still coat her lips in lip-gloss, still fix up her baby hairs too. She used this kind of body mist that gave her body some sort of shimmer, and I loved to see her in it.
She always smelled good. She did other girly shit like arching her own eyebrows with a razor. She would paint her toenails. I loved all those things. I love the way she would smile in moments like tonight when something made her happy.
“Go dance. Let me see if you got some rhythm,” I said to her, standing right here with my drink in my hand, just fully taking her in.
Her outfit this evening was simple, but it was cute. The jeans she wore fit her perfectly at the waist, but the overall fit was a little baggy. It was cute though. I fucked with it. Her top was simple. It was a white knit crop top, that exposed her flat belly. She wore beige Hermès slides. Her braids were styled in a half up/ half down kind of look. I was such a sucker for the braids. I don’t know, I just always felt like braids framed a woman’s face perfectly. I liked the many ways that she could style them. Sometimes she would wear them hanging, pull it up in a bun, doit half up/ half down like tonight, or some of the other styles that she wore.
Only thing that she came with is her phone, and I.D. She knew that when she was with me, that I was going to take care of everything, so there wasn’t a need for her to bring a purse.
I dressed up a little tonight too. Well, I wasn’t overly dressed but tonight was one of those nights where I was in something other than gym shorts, joggers, white tees, or wife beaters. Whenever I packed for the road, I would bring a few nice outfits with me. I knew that on those days when I would have a break, that I would typically step out for a night to enjoy myself, and tonight happened to be one of those nights.
I wore a short-sleeved denim button up. The top few buttons were left undone, so you could see the tattoos that were on my chest. Because the shirt was short sleeved, the tattoos on my arms were on full display as well. I paired it with black jeans. The jeans were fitted and hanging off my waist just a little bit. A simple gold chain was around my neck, along with my black dial Rolex on my wrist. Simple white forces were my shoes of choice tonight.
The waves were swimming, I smelled good, and I felt confidant, knowing that I had the prettiest girl out here on my hip tonight.
“I don’t. I dance like I have two left feet,” Amina stated, walking over to me, so that she could stand directly in front of me.
I smiled at her response, along with leaning my head down, so that I could kiss her on her forehead. I placed a hand on her hip afterwards, and that was just my way of telling her to move her hips to the beat of the music. She quickly did that, showing me that she was lying when she said that she couldn’t dance.
She turned around, so that she could give me her back, and she was doing it in a nice, classy way, grinding her ass upagainst me, dancing to the music. I put my cup in the air, and I was behind her grinding too. We had our own little thing going on, dancing together, not caring about anyone else out here but ourselves.
I danced with Amina for at least five minutes straight. When we eventually finished, she continued to stand with her back posted up against me. Her ass was planted right on my dick. She felt it too. Because she felt it, she dropped her head back, looking upside down at me. My tall frame towered over her, as I had the drink raised, sipping from the straw. On some nasty shit, I leaned my head down, got a hold of her neck with my free hand, and the sips that I’d taken from my drink, I put it in her mouth. Slowly passed it along to her like it was nothing, and once she swallowed it, we started kissing.
I was out here, trying to shove my tongue down her throat. The kiss got so good that she turned around in my arms, wrapped her arms around my neck, and it was double the passion. One drink was in my hand, and one was cuffing a handful of her ass. When thoughts came to mind of picking her ass up, that’s when I had to be the one to pull away. I had to show that I had some kind of self-control.
Even though the kiss ended, Amina continued to place kisses and bites on my neck. She didn’t stop until a minute later. Once she did, she turned back around in my arms. I wrapped an arm securely around her waist, and while I did that, she rubbed the arm that was wrapped around her, and placed kisses on it.
“You want to get on the horse?” I asked her. That question made her laugh.
“Which horse? Yours? Gemini, not to even sound too freaked out, but I want to get on your horse. I’m horny as hell,” she confessed, turning back around to look me in my eyes. Shit, I was on the same timing as her. My dick was in my jeans screaming.
“What you saying then? Shit, it’s nothing to find a restroom out here. That’s what you on?” I asked her, and she smiled.
“I’ll just wait until we get back on the truck. Even with all the music playing, they’ll still hear you taking me through there,” she said, and I laughed at that, knowing what she was referring to.
Even on those moments when we’re in the comfort of my truck, just the two of us fuckin, I still feel like anyone outside the truck could hear her. I’m giving this girl straight pressure a few times a day. Dick for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a few times for snack.
“Just say you scared to get fucked in public, love,” I said it in a chastising way.
“With the right amount of drinks in my system, I’ll get fucked right here where I stand, Gemini,” she said it in an innocent way, but I believed her ass.
She showed me the kind of demon time she could be on when we went to the bar, and she got drunk. I know for a fact if we had been a couple by that night, and had already had sex, she would have been down for whatever in that bar. Amina was a very sexual person, and I liked that. She had a pussy and knew how to use that motha fucka. She wasn’t lazy when it came to sex. She’ll ride and do everything else that I wanted her to do.
“Somehow, I believe your nasty ass too,” I told her. She smiled at my words, kissed me one more time, and then grabbed my hand, so that we could finish walking.
We eventually made our way over to the horse carriage. Amina pointed at it, telling me that she wanted to do it, but I’d already made a mental note that I was going to surprise her with it. I knew a little bit about horses, so it was a beautiful Percheron that was standing there. The horse had a gray coat, as he stood up tall. The carriage made this night that I was having with Amina even more romantic. It looked like some shit out ofa movie. It was almost like a fairytale. The carriage was black and had gold trims. There was a driver that sat up front with the reins in his hands. He looked to be in his 50’s and he had some nice R&B music playing from the speakers.
“How you doing man?” I asked, greeting him, putting my hand out so that he could shake it. He firmly shook my hand while looking me in my eyes.
“I’m blessed and highly favored, young man. How you doing? Is it just going to be you two tonight?” he inquired. He had that thick Nola accent. The kind of accent that was so thick, you could tell he was born and raised here.
“We good, and yeah. It’s just going to be the two of us. How much I owe you?” I asked, so that I could reach into my pocket and pay him now.
“I can do it for $70. It’ll be a private ride, and Ima take ya’ll through the Quarter. We gonna pass Jackson Square, Royal Street, and even the Mississippi River. I’ll take ya’ll through a few quiet streets too, so that ya’ll can have some alone time. Tour gonna be about 45 minutes. That’s cool?” he asked me.
