track nine: dutty whine
word count: 3.14k
content notice: light smut, married!melvika, nigerian!mel, jamaican!sevika, suggestive dancing, hard packing, chest taping, patwa, pidgin, making out, strap sucking, realistic strap, open ending, intoxication (both are buzzed but not blackout drunk), top!sevika, bottom!mel.
a/n: i am NAWT caribbean (like 1/8 jamaican on my dad's side), and have never played mas nor been to Carnival. I did research to the best of my ability and am more than willing to admit I absolutely could have gotten things wrong here. That said, I hope that whatever errors exist aren't too distracting and that you can enjoy this still.
"Baby, sharp sharp now! We no go find a good spot!" Mel called down the hall. In the kitchen, Elora, Shoola, and Sky were still pregaming, knocking back cocktails of what was sure to be four times as expensive once they actually joined the procession. Meanwhile, Sevika was still in their room, and Mel couldn't figure out for the life of her why. "You need help?"
"Be outta eena ah second!"
"Maybe she jeh-hic- she jeh shy, o!" offered Shoola, already wining and twerking to Traffic Blocking by Degree while Sky wined behind her. Mel smiled good-naturedly and plucked the can of red stripe from her friend. The taller woman giggled and swooned before falling into a seat at their kitchen bar. "Whew, my eyebor turnin'!"
"Elora," Mel sighed, clapping her hands. "You no dey shayo, jo get these two in the front and call Uber?"
Like she always did, good, dependable Elora nodded emphatically and corralled the two turnt women out the front door, a mess of feathers and drunkenness. The house was noticeably more quiet, save for Red Rat's Tight-Up Skirt playing on the JBL. She sighed and picked up the speaker on her way down the hall to the master bedroom.
"Sevika!" Mel huffed, annoyed as she pushed open their bedroom door. There, Sevika was, mid-roll of the tape, the rest of her costume askew. Mel raked her eyes over appreciatively. Clearly, her commission on the matching set had been well spent. Throwing her hands to the side, Sevika let out an exasperated sigh.
"Wud yuh mind?"
Mel giggled and gently pried the roll from her wife's grasp and held her hand out for the scissors. Sevika handed them over, and Mel cut off two three-part sections and one five-part section. Smoothing over the nipple covers, she pressed the fat down and back towards her wife's armpit and pressed one sticky exposed end of the tape to the skin. The two three-part sections secured the top and bottom of her breast, while Mel deftly peeled and pressed the five-part strip until it was firmly secured beneath her armpit. She repeated the same process on the other side, pressing a soft kiss to her wife's scarred cheek when she was done.
"Na you o," she praised, putting the remaining costume pieces in place and smoothing over Sevika's now bound chest. She paused as the older woman gently grabbed hold of her hand and kissed it, her own grey eyes taking in the entirety of Mel's ensemble. Her eyes narrowed, and Mel immediately recognized the hunger in them. "Ahn ahn!"
"Wi nah guh tek long," Sevika chuckled, low and heady as she brought Mel flush to her body. A retort died on her wife's tongue as she felt the packer waiting underneath Sevika's own mas costume. "Waah yu tuh miself, 'fore yuh ketch wines out deh."
"Na jelorsi go kill you."
"Jealous a wah nuhwan else cyaah have? Please. Jus waah fi show yuh wah yuh duh tuh mi, dressed like dis."
Mal raised an eyebrow even as she stood on tiptoe for a kiss, chaste and light to prevent her combo from smearing. It made her head swim anyway, because it wasn't as if she didn't also have the desire to keep her wife all to herself today. She broke contact first, hazel eyes glazing over before she shook her head fondly. Though her own envy was indeed normal, it was unfounded. Playing mas was good fun and didn't need to mean anything more once the soca music ended and everyone went home. They'd established their own boundaries for navigating it, and would play in a band made entirely of those they loved and trusted. "Believe me, I'd love to keep you here, but that wouldn't be fair to our friends, would it? Make we go, now now."
Sky's ringtone came through, breaking up the tender moment. Sevika smiled and had the good sense to grab the drawstring bags both she and Mel had packed for the parade before the couple joined the three rowdy women outside in the Uber black. The car pulled up to the parking garage, where the mas truck and the band, all decked out in plumage and shiny custom gear, greeted the five.
Loud soca music pounded down the streets as the late May sun beat down on the crowd. Parks all over the city that weekend came alive with dancing, wining bodies, large feathery costumes, and irresistible Caribbean rhythms. And down the busy thoroughfare, her own sneakers scuffing in a two-step, Mel was decked out from head to toe in her mas costume:
Her head was crowned with small gold plumage attached to a thin circlet gracing her forehead, waving and bopping as she shimmied from side to side. Her barely there red and gold bikini and numerous accompanying straps jingled with dozens of fake diamond sequins, catching the setting sun's rays and bouncing off her dark, sweaty skin. Her laugh was a light and airy chorus as she shouted raunchy lyrics off-key, at least three rum punch bags in her system. Her hair was slicked back in a high pony, her hazel eyes framed by dramatic gold and black makeup, which had begun to blotch in the heat. And behind her, feathers bounced and waved in an arc.
Her wife wore bright red trunks, jeweled arm bands, and a matching sequined chest piece that sat atop her taped breasts. Her abs glistened with sweat, and the body glitter Mel insisted on slathering on her before they'd left their house. Sevika wore a more understated but matching headband with beads on the sides that clattered as she danced behind Mel, the late spring heat blazing on her warm brown skin. She caught each of her wife's wines with perfect timing, pelvis thrusting and gyrating on beat as Mel's cheeks clapped back on her, a big goofy smile on her face. Who could blame her? Mel's joy and the beats of Carnival were infectious.
Mel, because she wasn't perfect, did shoot a diabolical side eye at one of the other masquerades when Vybz Kartel's Romping Shop came on, and they looked a little too cozy with Sevika. But true to each other's words, they'd caught and given wines to the rest of their float, no more than two songs long. The entire band was all smiles as everyone grinded, twisted, and twerked on beat, sequins clattering and sweat flying.
The procession they'd joined ended at Rodney Cook Park, where vendors handed out a variety of food for the throng of exhausted bodies to refuel before the performances began. The air came alive with the aroma of escovetich, seafood, fried treats, curries of every kind, and sorrel. The center stage was alive with high-energy emcees and dance troupes while airhorns sounded and the track switched to another high-energy song, perfect for couples who hopped, jerked, and twerked around the field. It didn't take long for the two to find their way to the center of the crowd, bodies practically inseparable as they made the most lovesick eyes at each other.
Mel's eyes sparkled with mischief as Dutty Whine by Tony Matterhorn blared over the sound system, and she detached from her wife's firm grip on her waist. Her friends and a few other mas players circled her with their phones high in the air, the second the emcee screamed "attitude, gyal!". Mel bent over and swung her neck around in an arc, ass bouncing up and down as her knees swiveled in and out. Shoola screamed out a laugh while Sky whooped and cheered. Elora was likely the only one who got a clear video of the whole performance.
The effect of dozens of attached feathers swirling and bopping with each movement was mesmerizing, and Sevika found herself at a loss for words, wondering how she got so lucky. There was, of course, mild concern for her wife as she hoped Mel wouldn't throw out her neck (the dance was infamous for a reason). Luckily, the song's mix was short, and when it was finished, an exhilarated Mel giggled and threw her arms around her wife's neck, looking deep into hungry grey eyes.
"Irie, likkle Ms. Pop style," Sevika laughed, bringing both hands to Mel's plump rear and suqeezing. "Weh yuh learn tuh move like dat?"
"Wouldn't you like to know. Someone should remind you who you married, even if it means I dey denge."
The mix shifted to a slower beat as the emcee called for all couples to get close. With a devious look of her own, Sevika spun Mel back around, her own hips and the packer flush with her wife's backside as the first lyric boomed out over the park.
Gyal, me wann fi hold yuh
Put mi arms right around ya
Gyal, you give me the tightest hold
Me eva get inna my life
Mel's cheeks burned, whether that was from the Atlanta spring heat, the liquor in her system, or the sheer size of what her wife had strapped to her hips under those trunks. She looked back, long ponytail falling over her shoulder, and desire in her stare as her hips started in a slow circle upon her wife's hips. Sevika met it with equal enthusiasm, controlled in her gyrations as she set the pace between the two with guiding hands.
Me eye dem dry and me nuh care
Mi tek it anytime and anywhere
Inna de square, so me nuh fear
And I say woman I will be dere
She twisted Mel up to a standing position, facing her as they undulated their hips into each other. Mel slung one arm around Sevika's neck, a tiny bottle of Angostura in her hand. She unscrewed it and tipped Sevika's chin down, who opened her lips immediately. Hot burning liquid flowed down her throat, and she didn't wince once. Their groins met briefly on beat, while large, genuine smiles broke out on their faces. They continued like that for the rest of the song, until drunk giggles and burning muscles let them know it was time to grab some food.
They bought two styrofoam trays of calalloo rice and curry shrimp with a side of beef patty before finding an unclaimed picnic bench and finally having a moment alone to rest their aching feet. Mel folded her knees up under her on the bench, reclining into Sevika's chest while she brought up forkfuls of rice to her wife's lips. Gratefully, Sevika accepted, rubbing circles into the inside of Mel's elbow where she cradled her as she chewed around the food.
"Really glad wi did dis," she murmured after swallowing down a bite, and she pressed a kiss to the top of Mel's head.
"Me too," Mel whispered, before sitting upright and setting the fork down. She moved to straddle Sevika's massive thighs, her long legs wrapping around a tapered waist, and holding her wife's face in her hands. Even from this position, she could feel the outline of her wife's packer, and it drove her mad. The food had largely soaked up the alcohol in her system, and she had more clarity than she did all afternoon when she whispered: "Tek mi home. Mi wah fi ride yuh."
Mel texted her group chat just how much time they had left to get their shit out of the house and find an afterparty before practically tonguing down Sevika in the Uber. Her hands roamed all over her, knocking loose the odd sequin, while Sevika's hands never left her waist, the titanium palm cooling the small of her back, and the flesh one squeezing for dear life.
The driver, who'd likely seen worse working all day, coughed loudly when he rolled up in front of their house. Mel made sure to tip generously as the two scrambled to grab their bags and takeout boxes. Sevika helped her out of the car, and they half-ran, half-stumbled to the front door. As he pulled off, Mel eagerly grabbed Sevika’s hand, giggling as she dragged the larger woman to her front door. She barely touched the knob before Sevika spun the two of them around, kissing her passionately and abusing her lower lip in revenge. Whining as she tangled her right hand in Sevika’s short tresses, Mel fumbled for the handle, prying the door open and pulling her wife in by her chest piece. Blessedly, Shoola, Sky, and Elora had managed to clear out of there in the nearly two-hour drive home from the park, leaving the now dark and empty house all to the couple. With a sigh, Mel kicked off her sneakers just as Sevika bent down to pull off hers. Immediately, the shorter woman dropped to her knees, placing a hand on Sevika's thigh to stop her. Sevika raised an eyebrow at that, but leaned against the foyer wall as her wife pressed against her and tightened her hold on her wide hips.
"Can't wait. I'll take you right here," Mel whispered, her thin fingers hooking into the waistband of her wife's trunks.
Sevika felt her boxers dampen at the confession, her gaze darkening as she looked down at her wife, feather headband still on, and hunger in her hazel hues. Her heart rate picked up as Mel slipped out of the packer that had tortured her all day. It was custom-painted to match her wife, the head a dark brown and the rest of the skin lighter with highly detailed veins. The shaft was flexible enough on the inside to fit "soft" against her in underwear, but firm enough to hold shape when manipulated. For play purposes, she'd strapped it to her hips, and Mel's fingers ghosted along the harness set, her nails scraping gently against the skin there. In a low squat with perfect form, she rocked her hips back and forth idly to the music softly playing in the house.
"Fuck," Sevika sighed, asking herself for the thousandth time in her life how she got so lucky. Mel was a vision, gazing up at her with low eyes, a smirk on painted lips. "Yuh look too fine down deh." "Fọkan balẹ," Mel whispered, her breath cooling on Sevika's hips as she pulled on the packer until it stood at full height. She pressed a kiss to the tip, not once breaking contact with the enraptured grey eyes that fixed her to her spot. "Your body dey totori you, second I go lay hands." Sevika chuckled low in her throat and brought her left hand to the hard part of the headdress, focused on keeping the grip light. She brought her right down to Mel's ponytail, wrapping a warm fist around it. "All dat mout. Mek mi put 'im tuh criss yuuz."
Mel steadied herself on her wife's thigh, which she could never hope to grip the entirety of, as it was thicker than her own waist. Even the visual of seeing her hand against the flesh had Mel's eyelids fluttering. The momentary haze was broken when Sevika flexed it as she thrusted shallowly between Mel's lips. Whining low in her throat, Mel hollowed her cheeks and exhaled through her nose as she let her wife control the pace, tugging her down on the shaft until Mel's nose met the base.
"Deh yuh guh. Tek mi dun yuh pritty throat, baby."
The arousing words and smell of her wife's arousal clouded Mel's mind as she ground the back of the toy against her wife's clit in a counterclockwise motion. She bobbed her head up and down, eyes never leaving Sevika's face.
"Good gyal."
That very face twisted in pleasure as Sevika continued to gently fuck her wife's mouth, toes curling in her sneakers and breath wavering as heat began to mount behind her clit. Mel let out a little giggle over how worked up her wife had already gotten and decided to up the ante, moaning around the toy. Sevika's grip tightened around Mel's ponytail as she pulled her off, to much pouting from her wife.
"Bed. Now."
In a rush, Sevika picked Mel up, finally toeing off her own shoes, while her wife threw her arms around her neck again. She giggled as Sevika carried her to their room, styrofoam trays forgotten in the foyer, and soft soca music flowing in the house. They shared yet another kiss, twice as deep and sloppy as the one they shared in the car, trying to physically melt into the other. The second they crossed the threshold, Sevika set Mel down on the bed, face down, and tugged her hips up to meet her own. Mel was about to protest, having every intention of topping from the bottom, when Sevika slotted the still-damp packer in between her lower lips and ground against her slowly. All her rebellion ebbed away as she arched her back.
"Baby inside, please," Mel whined, thrusting back on her wife's hips. "Shh, mi know," Sevika cooed, pressing soft kisses to Mel's back and shoulder, her warm body pressing her wife in place, like if they separated for a second, she'd die. She tugged down the costume's bottoms with one hand and slipped her fingers into the damp heat waiting for her. "Soaked already? Jus from suckin' me?" "Yes, baby," Mel preened, as she turned her head up and reached back to press another desperate kiss to her wife's mocking mouth. "No go settle for mouth, o. Need you in my kpekus too."
Despite her own tendencies, Sevika decided against being a jerk and made quick work of fingering her wife open for her. Mel mewled at the stretch; she never got over the sheer size of her wife's digits, which filled her near to bursting every time. She widened her knees as best she could, but was hindered by the fabric tangled around them, with no choice but to sag forward and let her wife handle her.
"Dat's it, baby," Sevika soothed, hooking her fingers down to rub behind Mel's clit. "Relax fuh mi. Mek yuh feel suh nice." "Inside! Please, no tease like this, o!" "Yuh git mi when mi seh."
The reprimand tore a ragged sob from Mel's throat as Sevika twisted her hand to rub at her clit. The dual pressure drove Mel insane, and before she knew it, she'd squeezed down on her wife's fingers, crying out as she came around them. Sevika laughed as Mel squirmed and tried to lift her hips off her fingers, clearly embarrassed and overstimulated.
"Aht, aht," she chastised, wiping off her fingers on the outside of Mel's thigh. She held her hips still, grinding her strap against the wet flesh of her wife's cunt. Mel shivered, eyes crossing as Sevika took her lobes between her teeth. Amused, she muttered conspiratorially in her wife's ear:
"Mi a nuh done wi yuh."
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