the tangle of caramel

The tangle of caramel, butter pecan and chocolate held Shay in a state of shock.

She’d never seen so many bodies in one place.

Earlier…

It was an ordinary Thursday morning by any stretch of the imagination. Shay got her two-year-old ready for day care and her six-year-old ready for reading time on the mat, chewed up pencils and new best friends every other week, all disguised as first grade. Her husband, Reynold, toasted up honey wheat slices and slathered them with apple butter, grabbed fruit and veggie packs for the kids and coffee in to go cups for him and her, all four of them in a rush to get out the door. Reynold’s cushy corporate VP job afforded him time shares, tons of vacation time, staff at his beck and call…but not the choice of being late. Shay just needed coffee to start her day – to press go in her brain – so that once she got back from dropping the girls off to their respective places, she could get her clothes in the washing machine, dinner started, and her laptop opened so she could write.

It was an ordinary Thursday morning.

As Shay sat in front of her computer a few hours later, her research on the top vegan eateries spread out around her, she drummed the top of her keyboard, searching for the right words to begin this piece. She wanted to sell it to the highest bidder – but every freelance journalist knows that the first sentence in a piece is the make it or break it line. It was the line that either convinced the reader to keep reading…or made them turn the page. Shay was stuck. The phone ringing didn’t help. Sighing, she reached for it.

“Did you put them on yet?”

A slow smile crept across her face. She peered down at the black and pink latex thong sheathing her mons, the black lace cupping her backside and easing down the crack of her ass. “I did. I take it you’re alone?” Reynold chuckled on the other end. “Save for my assistant on the other side of my office…her door is closed, though”.

When Shay met Reynold, she was immediately drawn to his spirit: charming, indomitable, kind, his perfect smile with perfect teeth putting forth a beautiful soul, to say nothing of his rich, dark chocolate skin and Idris Elba build. Closely cropped hair and soft brown eyes, Reynold was literally the most beautiful man she’d ever met, inside and out.

He was also the biggest freak she’d ever known. His countenance belied a libido like no other.

His low baritone cut through her revelry. “Cup it for me”. She did, moving her clear manicured hands down her slightly convex yet smooth stomach, her fingers moving over and around her mons, cupping them, her index finger uncovering the hidden slit in the latex triangle. She let out a low chuckle, followed by a soft moan. Shay could hear Reynold’s breathing, his zipper coming down. “Did you find the slit, you naughty girl?” he whispered. “Yes…” she whispered back. Her index finger touched the sensitive tip of her clit and she hissed. It never took her much to bring herself to orgasm, and the beauty of Reynold whispering in her ear, guiding her through it, it was usually too much for her to bear.

This time was no exception.

She could feel her orgasm creeping up her spine, her index finger lightly flicking her clit, her husband’s raspy baritone whispering to her, urging her on. She could imagine him in his office chair, his length in hand, his strong yet nimble fingers stroking himself, the frosted glass wall dividing his assistant’s office from his dangerously close to exposure. She was right there…

And he whispered, “stop”.

She whimpered. “Baby…”

Shay heard him grunt slightly, but his command was the same. “Stop for me…you feel that? That surge? You want to come so bad, don’t you, baby?” Her breathing was ragged. A thin sheen of sweat matted her brow. Her finger hovered over moist latex, the tip of her clit exposed through the slit, her bra long since discarded, blackberry nipples on rounded mounds of caramel flesh at attention.

She needed to finish what she started.

How would he know if she chose to come?

“Move your hand from your clit…your patience will be rewarded soon enough,” her handsome, mild mannered husband with the big libido and even bigger length whispered with gentle force, as if he knew she wasn’t going to listen, as if he knew her most intimate thoughts. “Get a pen and a piece of paper and write this down”. Exasperated but intrigued, Shay stumbled to her feet, walked over to the fridge, not caring that sunlight was streaming through the kitchen window, uninterested in her pale neighbor in his wife beater and board shorts now butchering the lawn for his attempts to get a glimpse of her curvy blackberry caramel, and grabbed the pad and pencil off the fridge door. Walking back to her seat, her clit rubbing against latex, her body screaming for orgasm, she eked out, “What am I writing?”

Reynold gave her an address and a series of complex directions. Then he said, “In the bottom drawer of our dresser underneath your cotton pajamas, is a package wrapped in purple silk. Put that on and cover it with your turquoise wrap dress. The girls are spending the night with my parents – I’ve already arranged it. You can drop them off right after dinner. I will meet you at the address I just gave you. Whatever you do, though, don’t come”.

He hung up.

Shay considered this. She knew her husband had an adventurous side to him. They’d dabbled in S&M, more so the costumes and light bondage. She enjoyed pleasurable pain but refused to go any further than a smack on the add or the candlewax down her back, her legs tied to the bed. She knew him to have pleasures that he needed tamed every now and again. It was one of the things she enjoyed most about him.

Today, this ordinary Thursday, it was a little bit infuriating. She needed to cum so bad.

But now she was intrigued.

Later that evening…

It was all this that led her to this entanglement of legs and arms and moans. The expansive loft was open, with three different sections and three completely different sex acts, all happening simultaneously, all beautifully sculpted shades of brown. She turned to Reynold, her brown eyes full of wonder, lust, and a bit of trepidation. “You were serious about this”.

Reynold took both of her hands and looked her in the eyes. They’d talked about the swingers’ party invitation he’d received from a close friend of theirs a while back briefly, though at the time it was still just that – talk. Now, being here, the room full of excitement and exploration, she was admittedly nervous. She looked at him, his dark chocolate skin already undressed, ready. “There are three different things to try. The most hardcore experience is to your far right. In the middle is what they call the ‘same sex experience’. To the left is for couples only. Everyone here has been tested, but protection is still a must. Each group has a safe word. You can do as little…or as much as you like…with no judgment. If you’re not ready though, baby, whatever you want, we can walk out right now…or you can come with me and try something new and incredible. It’ll be a first…for both of us…together”.

Shay wet her lips.

Her still unachieved orgasm for before sat steady on her hips, the sensations pulsing through her, calling her name, overtaking her fears…

She was so wet.

Emboldened, she gripped her husband’s hand a little tighter and walked to her left. In the corner of the loft, to the far left, were two sized beds pushed together and swathed in black satin. There were two couples: one she recognized as Reynold’s close friend and his girlfriend, the other one she didn’t recognize as readily. Reynold’s close friend, Shawn, was on his back, his eyes shut tight in ecstasy, as his girlfriend Tricia held a frozen grape in her mouth and used it to tease his nipples. The other woman in the bed, her butter pecan skin covered in honeyed dust, was slowly sliding a condom onto his length with her mouth, the pink of her tongue running alongside his shaft. From behind the other male, a beautifully milk chocolate chiseled man, his length sheathed in tuxedo covered latex, eased into her lubricated chocolate star in degrees.

Shay was entranced.

She could feel Reynold’s strong, lithe hands on her shoulders, sliding her turquoise dress off her shoulders, running and cupping her exposed breasts, the dress falling over the black latex cupless teddy he asked her to put on, blackberry nipples at attention and straining for release, material falling to the floor and discarded in search of paradise. He pressed his length, still encased in boxer briefs, against her exposed backside, as she watched the couples writhe in ecstasy. Tricia eased herself off the bed, skin the color of aged whiskey, honey dusted and glistening in the loft lighting, and walked up to her, her mango sized breasts brushing the backs of Reynold’s finger tips in a sexy hello. Gently moving his hands, she pressed her nipples against Shay’s, the friction gentle yet stimulating. She looked Shay in her eyes, asking silently if she was okay.

If this, this feeling, this entrance to paradise, was okay.

Reynold whispered, “You ready, baby?”

Shay swallowed. Her eyes left the scene and locked onto Tricia’s, firm, no question in her eyes.

Then she leaned in and bit Tricia’s bottom lip.