The Mandingo Diaries: A Case of Taboo

by Clyde Viechweg

  I had seen her around a few times; after all, Grenada is only a hundred and thirty-three square miles. I knew she was married and that she had a daughter. Although she was around my age, I could not recall her from secondary school days.

  For some unknown reason, I felt an uneasiness come over me. On closer introspection, I realized that the feeling being invoked in me was one of intrigue about the woman sitting across from me. I felt a strong desire to learn more about her; under all her smiles and chatter, I could sense that something was amiss. Her lips would part, her pearly white teeth would bare smile after smile, yet I could not see any lines around her eyes that are a must for any genuine smile and still there was no light in those eyes.

  Turning back to the sea, I noticed that the sun had already sunk and I missed another chance to see the sizzle. I thought about what my father had told me about women with no light in their eyes and tried to figure out which of the symptoms she was suffering from. I knew she was married now for about ten years; maybe it was boredom, lack of attention, intimacy, or were her dreams being stifled so that her husband and child could express theirs.

  I am the kind of man that pays attention to detail. Experience had taught me that people are never who they pretend to be in public. So I decided that I would try to seduce her and discover what made her tick; besides, I am always attracted to things that are off limits.

  Now the thing about most men, they are so caught up in the macho egotistic nonsense that they seldom notice the subtle signals that women give off when they are attracted to the opposite sex. They puff up their chests, talk about work, money, cars, titles, and believe that is the key to a woman's heart.

  The thing is that a woman knows within five minutes of talking to a man whether he is a man of substance or full of hot air. Sometimes, she might stifle her better judgment in order to have fun or fool herself into believing she can change him into being what nature had miserly granted him.

  Reining in my thoughts, I decided to act boldly. I pushed aside my half-empty Carib beer and order a shot of Johnny Walker Blue on the rocks. As the bartender poured the golden liquid over the ice, I could hear the cracking sound of the ice; however, for some strange reason that I could never figure out, I liked hearing it.

  Taking my drink in hand, I took two deep breaths to center my nerves and made my way over to their table.

  “Good evening, ladies, I could not help but notice how much fun you guys were having on this beautiful evening and wondered if you ladies would allow me to buy a round for everyone in order that I might continue to enjoy the beauty of your smiles.” I addressed them in a calm, leveled tone, accompanied by a smile.

  “How nice of you, we will accept only if you will join us too, unless of course, you are waiting on someone,” replied the girl with the locks, at the same time sweeping the bar to confirm if I was alone.

  “I will join you ladies on one condition…” I paused purposefully to create a dramatic effect.

  “What condition?” asked the married lady with a grin on her face; make that “beautiful face.”

  Keeping my face as serious as I could, I replied, “That all of you don't take advantage of me when I get drunk.”

  They all looked at my face, which was being contorted into all shapes from fighting off the avalanche of laughter that was about to come out. Then, we all busted out laughing and, with that, I quickly sat down.

  I, however, sat next to other girl who was the plainest of the lot. This was deliberate, of course. By doing that, I appeared more friendly and they would relax their guard. The girl I sat next to was more than thrilled. The thing about people is that they would hang out with each other, but deep inside of them, they would secretly think that they are better than each other. I could only imagine the confusion going on in their minds as to why I chose to sit next to the one I did.

  The bar man came over and took our order and returned with our drinks. As we did our cheers, I made sure I knocked on the glass of Miss Plain-dressed, whose name turned out to be Betty. I held her gaze just for a split second to see her reaction and cheered with the other two. The woman who had walked into the room was Triva and the one with the locks was Karen.

  We talked about family, school, music, and about Miley Cyrus twerking at the MTV awards. I was having a really good time too and I looked up and our eyes met.

  Kaboom!

  I got lost in them; I was sucked into their impenetrable depth. Then she smiled, that smile of knowing. Although that smile lasted a quick second or two, I got the impression that it was I who was being seduced or that she had unmasked my game.

  As we all continued to drink, chat, and laugh, we would sneak quick looks at each other.

  The thing about people is that their whole life is a game; we can't help it. We both knew where this was heading; well, at least, I knew. My break came when the DJ put on a song by Mr Killa – “I Want a Rolly Polly” – and the two other girls jumped up and started dancing.

  “You know I am married, don't you?” stated Triva.

  “You are? I never knew.” I lied. “So how is married life?” I asked.

  “It is what it is. Some days good, other not so good,” she replied, at the same time frowning.

  “We all have our ups and downs, married or not. We just have to pray it's more ups than downs,” I said softly while looking into her eyes.

  She smiled weakly and, at the same time, raised the glass to her mouth in order to distract what feelings were being aroused in her.

  I could see her breathing had changed; she swallowed more often now. Her fingers traced invisible forms on the table. These signs I knew were nervous reactions; there was internal conflict going on, and I hoped to push the balance in my favor.

  I reached across the table and took her hand. She quickly pulled it away.

  “What are you doing?” she said under her breath.

  “Oops, sorry, I just wanted to look at your bracelet. It's interesting,” I lied. “So sorry if I offended you.”

  She took a long hard look at me and said, “I know what you are doing, I saw how you looked at me when I walked in. How you are looking at me now. It's not going to happen. I am a married woman.”

  The way she said it was more of a plea to her senses than to my integrity, which I was in short supply of.

  “Look, I saw you walk in and I felt this strange feeling that I needed to protect you, save you from something,” I said.

  “What are you talking about, save me from what?” she replied bravely, at the same time sitting up and crossing her arms around in front of her breast.

  This I knew was a defensive posture and that I had touched on a sensitive spot. Now I had to find out which one of my father's list of symptoms.

  “Don’t be upset, but I saw loneliness in you. I saw a dream dying a slow death, but in all that, I saw the faint spark of hope,” I replied by taking a wild guess.

  “How do you know these things? You don't even know me,” she said emotionally.

  Bingo! I had found her vulnerability. I guess Father was right after all. It was time to up the ante.

  “I know this because I myself have experienced this. In fact, I am lonely. I gave up on my dreams to please others and where has it gotten me?” I said solemnly.

  Now, by telling that lie, I instantly made a connection to her. She had someone of the opposite sex to relate to. This was what she wanted from her husband, but he was not providing it. If she had a good relationship with her father, then she could have spoken to him about them and exorcised those demons. But luckily for me, she apparently was all alone.

  “Looking at you, I could never tell if you were lonely. You looked so happy,” she innocently said.

  “Maybe it just your presence here that lifted my spirits. Maybe it's your smile or just the melody of your sweet voice,” I said, smiling from ear to ear. “I want you to know that even though I have just met you, I believe in you. I know that you're going to leave here and go home and be the strong
woman that you were born to be. Tomorrow, you're going to get up and write your dreams down and then you're going to break them up into small tasks and accomplish them.

  “Then, you're also going to look deep inside of you and find that light that fear is hiding and when I see you again, it will be from a mile away,” I said genuinely and I really meant it now.

  Triva reached across the table and squeezed my hand. My heart fluttered, not because of her soft touch, but because I saw the faint reflection of light in her eyes.

  I felt bad that I was selfishly trying to seduce this woman who was clearly in pain and needed help. In that moment, my stone of a heart cracked and time stood still. The way she looked at me, no woman had ever done in all my life. I felt that our hearts had forever become meshed and I sadly knew then and there that Triva was my soulmate.

  After that night, we would talk on the phone, she would sneak away on lunch, and we would meet up on the hill above the airport. We would chat excitedly as teenagers, but we never got physical, for I respected and loved her too deeply.

  This went on for about six months, until I went to a regatta in Carriacou. I told her that I would be going and that I would see her on my return.

  So, on the Sunday evening of the regatta, I was sitting on the sand in front of my hotel, the Silver Beach Resort, waiting for the sun to sink into the ocean, when I felt a soft touch on my shoulder. Turning around, I came face to face with Triva.

  “Oh my god, wha’? What are you doing here!” I exclaimed, jumping to my feet.

  Triva walked into my arms and held me tightly. I could smell the faintness of her shower gel, the warmth of her body. The waves lapped against the sand gently and the laughter, screams of the revelers, and music could be heard in the distance, but the steady beat of her heart against mine reminded me of the gem in my arms and kept me in the now. As the sun sank, I could swear I finally saw the sizzle.

  At dinner an hour later, she told me that she missed me so much that on Sunday morning, she packed a bag and told them that she was going to regatta.

  After dinner, we strolled the beach hand in hand. I could now see where the hotel got its name. The moon carpeted the ocean with its silver beams and its surface was as a mirror.

  Suddenly, Triva stopped and looked me in the eye and said, “I want to be with you. I love you.”

  “I love you too darling, but ho....” I never got to finish my sentence, for Triva placed her finger on my lips to silence me and then her lips met mine.

  Now I always wanted to figure out what makes a first kiss so sweet. Is it the wait? Is it the energy of the person kissing or is it the kiss itself?

  I felt the moistness of her soft lips and, as I surrendered my mouth, I could feel her tongue gently stirring mine to life. I moaned.

  Later that night, I made sweet love to her over and over again. All my senses felt awakened and alive. There was no part of her body that my mouth did not survey and hers mine.

  My tongue made swirls around her taut nipples. I traced every contour until they merged at her honey pot.

  Arriving there, I parted the flowery-smelling petals and dipped it into the sweet nectar that kept a steady flow. Her back arched while her legs quivered. Stopping at the button of pleasure, I slowly stroked it with my wet tongue, while slipping my wet finger into her pot.

  I felt her nearing the edge. I quickly pulled my finger out and replaced it with my throbbing manhood that was braided in veins that looked ready to pop.

  Entering her, I felt the smooth wet walls close in around my manhood, sucking it into a vacuum-like grip.

  “Aaaaaah, baby, ooooh, yes, just like that, don't stop, oooooh,” cried Triva.

  I increased my pace, going as deep as I could, her waist gyrating round and round, while she pulled my arse down hard.

  Then I felt the tremor starting in her stomach and spreading down her legs, and then her scream pierced the stillness of the night.

  “Aaaaaaaaaa, wooooooooo, I love yuhhhhhhhhhh!”

  Then she buried her lips on the side of my neck to stifle her cries and, with that, I exploded. With every shot, she pulled me in further while wrapping her legs tightly around my waist.

  The next two days were spent visiting the Grenadines. These are some of the most beautiful islands you will ever encounter in this world. They dot crystal clear azure waters from St. Vincent in the north, which they are a part of, to Carriacou in the south, which is part of Grenada.

  You may have heard of Mystique, the island that Princess Margaret owns and that the rich and famous vacation there. This is just one of the many tiny islands that form the Grenadines.

  My time with Triva was magical; I never felt so complete in all my life. I wanted to do all in my power to make this woman happy and she showed her appreciation. Our time together soon came to an end and reality hit, that we had to return to our regular lives.

  My grandma always told me that after joy comes sorrow. Upon returning home, I got a call from Triva. Her husband's sister had seen us together on Union Island in the Grenadines. They had a big fight, she confessed, and their relationship was over.

  She was pained because her husband was good to her, but with him, her life felt stagnated, she felt trapped, and she could no longer live that lie. Triva never wanted him to find out that way. There was nothing she could say to change the pass. I told her to take her things and move in with me. The good thing in this was her daughter was in college and was not there to witness the rupture in the marriage.

  Triva called her and explained that her father and she had separated, but they still loved her. She told her everything lest she heard it through the grapevine. Surprisingly her daughter took it well and wished her the best.

  Triva now lives with me, has been now for five years. Father forgot one thing in his list of symptoms, 'that still waters run deep, and those eyes that I first looked into were not trying to hide anything but that it was just darkest before dawn.

  Our love continues to grow and mature. I support her with her dreams. She now has two more months to go before she graduates with her masters. We talk about everything, no secrets, period. No matter how tired we are, if one of us needs the ear of the other, we make that sacrifice.

  It is not all smooth sailing, but we enjoy more ups than downs. Our love making, woii wii, that's for another story. So before I go, I must end how I began.

  A woman walks into a room. What's the first thing I look for? If it is my darling Triva. Now when she walks into the room, I marvel at how the light dances in her eyes, the way her lips curls up into a smile that lets me know she is mine.

  My Confession

  Dear Readers,

  It is with a heavy heart I come before you to unburden my soul. I hope by confessing this evil block of sin, that I may finally have a reprieve and a good night's rest. Most of all, I sincerely hope I find a sympathetic ear among you the readers.

  Two years ago (damn, how time flies), I was working at Scotia Bank in Grand Anse in the capacity of a teller. It was around two p.m. on a Friday afternoon that Susan walked into the bank to make a deposit.

  Reflecting now on the situation, I wished she had gone up to another teller, for I would not be writing this letter. Anyway, I looked up from my monitor and saw this gorgeous lady in a summer blue dress cut short to showcase a pair of well-oiled, long, flawless legs that were well toned.

  There was a smile on her face that caused her eyes to radiate bliss. Her hair was cut short, exposing the beautiful symmetry of her face, while her walk was graceful and hypnotic.

  “Good afternoon; I would like to make a deposit, please,” she said in a tone that was soft and pleasant.

  “Sure, can I have your account number?” I replied.

  “5523780,” she answered, at the same time passing the deposit slip to me.

  “Ah, Miss Susan Alexander,” I exclaimed in an exaggerated manner.

  “Yes, that's me,” Susan replied at the same time rotating her head from left to right, playfull
y to indicate it was her.

  That caused us to both break out into laughter.

  Anyway, I deposited the money and wished her a good weekend. She graciously returned the well wishes with a huge smile that caused my stomach to break out in butterflies. As I watched her exit the bank, I found my knees shaking and my breathing labored. I felt so aroused by her and my mind drifted off, imagining how her pussy would feel on my cock...mmmh.

  “Who was she? Why have I never seen her before? After all, Grenada is not that big.”

  Later that evening, I met up with some friends at Bananas for a drink. I was rather quiet, for I was lost in thought, daydreaming about Susan, when out of the blue....

  “Hello, Mr. Banker, are you following me?” Susan teased.

  “Oh my, ah well kinda,” I replied shakily, for I was caught off guard by her sudden appearance. “Can I get you a drink? Are you here by yourself?” I asked excitedly.

  “Why, thank you for the offer; however, I am waiting for my date to get here, and I don't drink,” said Susan.

  To cut a story short, we chatted for an hour before her date showed up. I learnt that she was born in the UK, her dad was from Victoria, St. Marks, and her mother was from London.

  Susan had first visited a year ago for carnival and had met her date on one of Summer Crew's bikini boat ride. They had kept in contact on Facebook and now she was here to see if they had a future together.

  When I saw her date arrive, I was stunned, for I was expecting Fabio; however, it turned out to be far from any kind of Fabios I knew. The guy looked like a simpleton, dressed like one, and sounded like one when I was introduced. For crying out loud, the guy was wearing a pair of acid washed jeans in 2011.

  Susan, upon seeing him walk in, her eyes lit up as the sun on a clear day. My heart fell and I felt a pang of jealousy twisting my stomach in knots.

  “Mark, this is my date, Roy, and Roy, this is my banker, Mark,” said Susan, making the introductions.