Caramel Flava

by Zane

  I can barely take this. Her tongue is so well trained, tasting my neck as if bloodthirsty. The tenderness of her touch is exciting places on me I never knew existed. I hear the hitches in her breath as she grinds her hips against me, a trickle of her lust juice is oozing down my thigh, and I can feel her clit throbbing, and swelling.

  I’ll take care of that later;that is, if I can regain control of my body.

  A wet trace of Alicia’s saliva has caught up with drops of syrup. Mixing while meandering to my navel, the trail meets up with its creator, who just parted my thighs and found the place where the dance will end.

  Her red lips are introducing itself to my swollen purple knob, savoring it like it’s an alien stranger as she wraps her hands around the stiffness of my thick shaft.

  Our eyes meet yet again. Her look is altered, haunting and horny, unmistakably naughty.

  “Ay, Papi. Estoy loca por esta caña negra.”

  Rocking forward, she sweeps her tongue along the tip of me, tasting the pre-cum that drips from me. I feel like all the blood in my body is going south of the border as she licks the underside of her black sugarcane.

  “Nice hook, baby,” she moans.

  My breath is short once more, for her flooding mouth has latched onto me something fierce. Swirling and slicking, oiling and polishing my shaft in a slow, insatiable rhythm, she’s a hungry python, eagerly engulfing its prey, the fluidity of her head bob instinctive. I love the way she relaxes her jaw and throat muscles while maintaining her slobber.

  Damn, she’s moving from dick to testicle sacs now, flicking her talented tongue along them. Her hedonistic taming of my tool has intensified my surge within. Recapturing my meat in her oral goblet, she makes it disappear, then reappear easily. Her oral strokes now manic, she’s really enjoying her delicious chocolate bar.

  And, I’m enjoying the greasing of my magic stick.

  I’m tensing as her pace quickens even more, and the sloppy, slurping sounds get louder. The throbbing nerves in my dick must be exciting, for her wet, succulent moans are ones of intense pleasure.

  My toes are curling. I feel my thighs tighten, then sag as she slows the tempo of her tribute. Then she speeds it up again as she feels me getting harder and harder.

  Shit, she’s greedy, and so, so good.

  Feeling my explosion reaching the point of no return, like engineer Scotty says on Star Trek: I don’t think I can hold it any longer.

  I’m about to…Oh, shit…

  A spurt of white lava leaves me…then another…three times…four…All I hear is her gulping…my breaths…so short…my tip…so sensitive…Please stop sucking it…No, don’t…Yes, do…oh, shit…I can’t stop trembling…regroup, mind…body, stop shaking…

  “I know, Papi,” she says, finally draining my pipe completely. “I know how bad you needed that.”

  She must have cum as well, for I hear her breathing heavily.

  A boyish curiosity leaves me as I search the room for air.

  “Alicia, I want…”

  “I already know, baby. You want to know what my pussy tastes like.”

  A dancer, seductress and psychic all rolled into one.

  Damn, I feel lucky.

  Finally, we’re both on our feet, kissing passionately as we stick together in the mixture of saliva, sweat, syrup, and semen. The only thing missing are the spurts of satisfaction that leave a happy vagina when eaten properly.

  And I’m about to fix that problem.

  Alicia senses my newfound aggression, stretches her beauty out on the sofa and spreads her muscled stems.

  “Guillermo, quieres tocarme?” she asks slyly.

  “Sí, Mamá,” I respond while pecking the lips that took my phallus to heaven and back. It’s time for my voyage to the center of Spain.

  Like an obedient compass needle, I begin my journey. Licking her rose tattoo, I hear a slight moan. Hmm, those pointed nipples are sensitive to touch? Okay, let me skim the surface of them lightly with itsy-bitsy tongue flutters.

  The involuntary wails leaving her are so nice.

  You see, while I pleasure Alicia, I’m performing anatomical reconnaissance. Charting out her peaks and valleys, by the time I’m done examining the gorgeous terrain, surveying and scanning this foreign land for sensitive spots and erogenous zones, she’ll be quaking and quivering like a bowstring.

  Oh, I see she likes the way I suck on her abundant orbs. Mm, Papá wishes she had milk, for it does a body good. The remains of the liqueur mix well with her natural taste. Mm, that cute navel of hers is indescribably delicious.

  “Please get to my pussy, Guillermo,” Alicia pants.

  Peering up from between her thighs, my face wears the look of a burglar.

  “Not yet,” I respond. “I’m saving that for last.”

  I want her body to generate enough electricity to illuminate a city, her face to fight the feminine gestures of bliss that taste-testing her tangy triangle will bring. But I must try her toes first, one at a time.

  First planting tender kisses, next I engulf them, causing the tides of her inner sea to simmer.

  She’s caught a small wave with that act. Her calves are so strong I must suck them. She barely conceals her pleasure. Next focusing on a different kind of hole, I lick around her anus, lube my finger with the slick ooze trickling from her saturated rain-forest, and insert one slow, then slower. Multitasking, I lick the outer lips of her honey pot lightly with my oral lizard.

  “Ay, Papi, ay, Guillermo” she moans. “Do that shit, baby.”

  I feel her body tense, then spasm slightly. Jerking, then sighing, Alicia succumbs to her mini-tremor.

  That was minor. It’s time for her to experience a major orgasm.

  Moaning and murmuring as I neared her magnetically attractive garden once more, I share a reverential moment with its musky aroma before I begin to lick her inner thighs.

  “Please eat my pussy,” she begs.

  Licking and lapping her thick, fleshy folds, her coos are that of a kitten as I slide a finger, then two, within her honey. However, I refuse to be content with a purr. I need the roar of a mountain lioness.

  Resuming my exploration of her delicious depths, the inner walls of Spain clutched at my oral telescope. Piercing her pussy with my nose, then chin, I am on a deliberate course to bring a multitude of mini-explosions from my Latin lovely. Moving from cunt to clit to cunt again, the taste of her drenched garden is awesome; and addictive, I might add.

  I feel the muscles in her legs tighten as my face latches onto her drenched pussy. The needle of my compass now flat, the need to decorate every pink pussy wall with my tongue art is overwhelming. Mixing my saliva with her moisture, I was on a scavenger hunt of pleasure, looking for that special place that brings Alicia off many times over.

  “Aaay, Papi…get that…oh, William…just like that…”

  Her moans are an indicator of the sensational bolts of pleasure taking possession of her awesome body; her circular motion against my face tells me I found her land of milky honey.

  Licking slowly, in circles around her slick, swollen clit, I flatten my tongue against it and move like a paroled butterfly liberated from its cocoon.

  Peering up at my princess, I see heavenly contortions. A chorus of moans leaves her as well.

  Damn, her pussy tastes good. It’s time to immerse myself once more. Munching on her precious interior, I taste the beginning of an intense orgasm. Her thick walls are absolutely scrumptious.

  “Ay, Papi, you do that shit…eat that…so…fucking…good…Yes, baby, yes…”

  Her purrs excite me further, so I become more determined to make her hips rise from the velvet.

  She bucking against it now, trying to fight the same feeling I warred with.

  Like me, she’s sees her resistance to orgasm is an exercise in futility.

  “That’s it, baby…Make it cum hard…ay…ay…ay, yes…Make it cum.”

  She can’t anymore. Alicia shoots a river of hot, salty j
uices from her hot spot, nearly drowning me with what I couldn’t drink. Damn, I love women that squirt.

  Rising, she steps over me, her breathing staggered as she wobbles into the back of her apartment.

  For two minutes, I hear water running, then silence. She returns with a soapy washcloth and basin.

  “Like I said, Guillermo, I take care of my men. Now, get up,” she says.

  Rising, I feel the gentle touch of hot liquid, terry cloth and tenderness wash then rinse me. Cleansed of the sticky scent of soiled foreplay, I return the bathing, and feel my flaccidity leave me once more.

  “Ooh, William,” Alicia says while gently stroking its puffy rim. Our hips meet again, this time without music, and begin a slow dance. Grinding slowly, low moans escape us.

  Her hard nipples feel so good against my chest. They are making the blood vessels in my dick swell even larger. It’s eager to explore something wet, warm and welcoming.

  Peering deep into Alicia’s hazel eyes, I touch her vagina and feel her nice, sloppy mess again.

  “Sit down and let me ride that perfect dick.”

  After nearly two hours of pleasure, her voice is still like Spanish fly.

  My desire to kiss her grows as long as the fire at my groin.

  I sit myself on the towel that protects the velvet from our lust, and she immediately straddles my quivering column of manhood.

  “Hands behind your back,” she commands.

  Obliging her request, I feel my hands fastened together by the scarves. That she does this while pumping up and down on my dick is amazing.

  A slow rise, then fall, then hip wriggle by this wonderful lover takes me deeper into her Spanish garden. I flex my hips to meet her strokes, only to be humbled by vibrant vaginal muscles that massage my dick as they clench it, then retreat. Alicia moves in circles, causing my toes to curl and my breath to grow short.

  I’m being handled like I was an amateur lover. My eyes blink open and shut in ecstasy as she presses her hands on my chest and flutters her backside like a moth. Bravely, I lunge forward and suck on those beautiful mounds.

  “That’s it, Papi, suck my nipples…Ay, Guillermo,” Alicia purrs while not breaking the connection. Soon, I hear names and curses in a foreign tongue as her legs tense.

  “Cum with your eyes open,” I urge. “The orgasm will be more intense.”

  Alicia listens, then shudders and staggers like a punch-drunk boxer, then screams while soaking my staff with her waterfall.

  “¡Dios mío! ¡Dios mío!”

  That sounds so sexy.

  “Untie me,” I say.

  She does, without realizing that she’s lost control of my hunger.

  I turn her over, place her legs on my shoulders, hold her calves hostage with my forearms and rub myself against her clitoris; very gently.

  I could go inside right away, but I want her to beg for it.

  “Please, William, please.”

  Inch by inch, I slowly sink my erection within her sex once more. Again, the key fits perfectly.

  “¡Dios mío, Papi! ¡Dios mío!”

  God, that sounds better than a sigh. Starting slowly, I give her tip, then root, then tip again. In circles, figure eights and, when her pussy becomes more accommodating, deep push-ups on my fists. Pumping while pulverizing it, I’m insistent with my need to take her to the summit of sexual sensation, so I increase the urgency of my thrusts.

  “Fuck it harder, harder, fuck it, baby…”

  From English to Spanish to English again, the melody of her moans intoxicates me, intensifies my dance. Seeing her grab but not hold the towel, then the sofa makes me try even harder than Avis does.

  “¡Dios mío, Papi! ¡Dios mío!”

  Alicia trembles as she gets the whole concert of movements: swivels and rhythmic gyrations; long and looping, then short, staccato strokes; slow, circular hip motion; semi-withdrawals; then, total immersion.

  “Those hips…and that dick are fucking me so well,” she announces through rapid pants.

  Ay, Papi, ay, Guillermo, aaayyyy. Papi, que rico.

  Shivering, her fists pound me in pleasure, then her nails invade my back. I know she feels the beat of my pulse. Holding her ass now, I go deeper, where no man, I think, has gone before.

  “Stir that dick in my pussy good,” she says. Obliging, the motion of my midsection moves from “O” to “V.” Alicia’s vagina involuntarily clamps onto me like it needs the companionship of my dick forever.

  Shivering and shaking, I hit the right chord inside her tunnel repeatedly, and with relentless repetition; her eyes are tearing as she stares at me.

  Thinking something’s wrong, I pull out.

  “Please, don’t take it away, baby. Give me my dick, baby. Please, Guillermo.”

  She’s so greedy, lost in the rapture of our shared gyrations. And I love it.

  The wetness of her fused with the slick sounds of sopping sex and Kegel-enhanced contractions are causing my teeth to grit and thrash as an explosion rises. Already being the fix I crave, my dick gets harder within my Spanish garden.

  “That’s it, baby. Be a good boy and fill Mamá up,” she urges.

  The power of my pumping gets stronger as I glue my lips and tongue to hers, trembling violently. I’m close, so close to that dizzying, light-headed rush I want so bad.

  “Come on, Guillermo…Shoot it all in me, baby…Cum for me, Papi.”

  I’m about to lose it again…Shit, she’s fucking good…Oh shit…Damn…fuck, she took it out and is sucking it again…she’s so nasty…and good…Fuck…she’s coming too as she sucks…

  I run my hands through her hair as she drinks from her well.

  “Mm, that’s a good boy, Guillermo.”

  My breath slowly returns to earth; as does hers.

  “So, Guillermo,” Alicia says, “I hear you want to learn to salsa.”

  Kissing passionately, our shared laugh is breathless.

  “You know what I think, Alicia?”

  “What?”

  “I think we make beautiful music together.”

  “So do I, Guillermo. So do I.”

  Not Tonight

  Esta noche no

  Curtis L.Alcutt

  K enji loved his job. He worked as a janitor at TechRealm Communications for a dozen years. Thursday nights were his favorite because, he had the pleasure of seeing Mrs. Colleen Bailey’s curvolicious body, when she routinely came into monitor the network servers.

  I know Mr. Bailey ain’t puttin’ it on her right, Kenji thought as he watched Colleen set her coffee cup down and press her security badge against the pad to gain entrance to the ground-floor lobby.

  “How are you, Kenji?” Colleen asked as she put her access badge into her black leather Tavecchi laptop briefcase.

  He put his feather duster in the back pocket of his dark gray uniform pants and grinned. “I’m doin’ good now that you’re here.”

  “You’ve fed me that line for over eight years now. When are you going to come up with a new one?”

  “Just as soon as you stop lookin’ so damned good.”

  “Watch it. That’s borderline sexual harassment.” Colleen self-consciously pulled closed her hip-length black Liz Claiborne suit jacket. She could feel Kenji’s half Spanish, half African-American brown eyes travel over her forty-D redbone breasts.

  “Borderline? I must be slippin’. Usually you threaten to at least call security.”

  “If you didn’t keep this place so clean, I would’ve had you fired long ago.”

  He looked into her freckled face once more as she walked past him toward the elevators to the basement. He thought to say something else smart but decided against it. It took nearly two years before he was able to get more than a simple hello out of her. She wasn’t the finest woman in the building, but she was one of the few he wanted and hadn’t fucked yet. He’d cheated himself out of two wives since he started working there. He found that most of the stuck-up executive women he worked with were freaks on t
he down-low. His basement office had doubled as a mini motel many times.

  Since TechRealm occupied a relatively small office building in downtown Berkeley, they needed only a three-person janitorial staff; one for each floor. Kenji, being the owner of Klean-Sweep Janitorial Services, always worked the ground floor and basement. He usually worked days, working nights only when he knew Colleen was scheduled to come by. At night the building was a ghost town. The only living soul there was the silver-haired security guard named Archie who worked the graveyard shift.

  Colleen used her access code and entered the server room. She placed her laptop bag on the main console and logged into the mainframe. On top of the console were two monitors. One gave a view of the hallway outside the server room and the other a view of the security guard desk. Six other monitors displayed detailed information on the status of the humming servers.

  “Wake up, children, Momma’s here,” she said to herself. She removed her jacket and hung it up next to her smock on the black metal coatrack in the corner. She put on her white smock and checked the wall-mounted thermostat. The server room was the normal sixty-seven degrees. She slipped out of her Via Spiga “Alvita” pumps and into her well-worn Minnetonka moccasins, which sat beneath the coatrack.

  Shit! I must have left my coffee cup in my car, Colleen thought as she sat her forty-six-inch rump in her ergonomic black leather chair. I should ask Kenji to get it for me. She smiled at the thought. Even though she dared not admit it, she wanted to give in and get some of his exotic cock. She’d heard the rumors about how freaky and well-equipped he was. Her being the sister of the cofounder of TechRealm, Reginald—don’t call me Reggie—Helton, meant she could ill afford to be added to the rumor mill. After she got her master’s in Computer Science from San Francisco State University ten years ago, Reginald gave her a job as the head network administrator. Tonight was her weekly system checkup. For the next four hours, she’d be locked in with her “babies.”

  Colleen heard the click of her automatic coffee machine as it began brewing. Archie always made sure to set it up for her on the nights she was scheduled to come in. “Mmmmm, that smells good. Maybe I can get Archie to get my cup for me,” she said as she drew the hazelnut aroma into her nostrils. Colleen glanced at the console and saw the intercom button labeled with Archie’s name. Just as she was about to push it, she looked at the monitor and saw him walking away, putting on his cap. He was going to make his scheduled rounds.