Caramel Flava

by Zane

  “Nice song.” He looked up at me as he commented. “Who is that singing?”

  “Teena Marie, off her La Dona CD. She’s the shit!”

  “Aw, isn’t she the one who sang ‘Fire and Desire’ with Rick James?”

  “What you know about Rick?”

  “I’m Rick James, bitch!” he exclaimed, utilizing the famous saying.

  “Well, in that case, just call me Mary Jane.”

  “You get high?”

  “High?”

  “Yeah, fumado.”

  “Hmm, I guess they would have a lot of weed down here in Mec-ci-co.”

  “What’s your name?” he asked, realizing that I intended to ignore his drug question.

  “Doesn’t it say it on your work order?”

  He smirked. “What work order? They radio me and tell me what room or villa to get my ass over to and I get there.”

  “So you take orders—órdenes—well?”

  I licked my lips. My wicked imagination had gone into overdrive and I pictured him butt-naked on the bed with me.

  “Depends on who’s giving them.” Maybe it was still my imagination but I could have sworn he had said that in a “I’m ready to fuck” way.

  “My name is Taneisha, and yours?”

  “Carmelo.”

  “Hmm, nice name. It matches your skin. Caramel. Carmelo.”

  “You have nice skin also.”

  He got up to get another tool out of his box.

  “Carmelo, are you getting fresh with me?” I asked.

  “Would it do me any good if I was?”

  I started contemplating the situation. I was in Mexico. Did not know a damn person down there, or even in the entire country, for that matter. All of my friends had already had plans for New Year’s and would not even take a free trip to Cancún on Korey’s ticket; the heifers. I was horny, there was a fine man in my room and he seemed “approachable.”

  “Carmelo, have you ever fucked a guest at this resort?”

  “No, nunca, never.”

  “Would you fuck a guest at this resort?”

  “This is wild.” He laughed. “I knew something strange was going to happen to me today. I just didn’t know what it would be.”

  “So you’re saying that I’m strange,” I stated offensively as “Back to the Hotel” by N2DEEP came on.

  “Actually, you’re fine. It’s like this.” He sat down on the edge of the Jacuzzi and eyed me from across the room. “My girl, she’s been treating me bad lately. She got this really great job and I’m proud as hell of her but now she acts like she’s better than me.” He held up the wrench in his hand. “She doesn’t consider this honorable work.”

  “Is she still your girl?”

  “I have no idea. I guess, but it doesn’t feel right. Anyway, this morning when I woke up, I was happy for no reason; excited about coming to work. I’m never excited about coming to work. But, here you are, sitting over there on that bed, dripping wet under that robe, and my dick is so hard it could bend this wrench.”

  “Let me see it bend the wrench.”

  He chuckled.

  “I’m serious.”

  “Serious. You know I’m kidding. That was only a figure of speech. A dick can’t bend a wrench.”

  “But I bet the wrench can do interesting things to a dick.”

  He laughed again but this time uneasily.

  I got up, untied the belt of the robe and let it glide to the floor. “You like my body.”

  “Shit, who wouldn’t?”

  “My man cheated on me. Can you believe that?”

  “He’s a tonto, a dummy.”

  “He thinks I’m too controlling.”

  “Are you?”

  I sat back down on the bed and patted the space beside me. “Why don’t you come over here and find out. Bring that wrench with you.”

  Carmelo stared down at the wrench, hesitated for a minute, but brought it with him as instructed.

  I grabbed the wrench, pushed him back on the bed, and ripped open his work shirt. Buttons popped everywhere.

  “They’re going to make me pay for another shirt.”

  “I’ll pay for it.” I ran my fingertips up and down his chest. “So your woman doesn’t appreciate all of this. She’s a tonta, too.”

  “You ever been with a Mexican?” he asked out of the blue.

  “No, you ever been with a black woman?”

  “No, but I’ve always wanted to be with one.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Curiosity.”

  “Well, you won’t be curious anymore because I’m about to lay it on you.”

  Carmelo grinned. “Lay it on me?”

  “Yeah, lay it on you. Quebrarte la espalda; blow your back out,”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  I unfastened his pants and was glad he was not wearing a belt. It gave me easier access. I pulled his pants and boxers down in one swoop and took it all in with my eyes. “Nice. Agradable. How do you say ‘scrumptious’in Spanish?”

  “Riquísimo.”

  “Riquísimo? That’s what your dick is. Riquísimo.”

  “I bet your pussy is riquísima.”

  “Have a taste and find out for yourself.”

  I quickly swung myself around and sat right on his awaiting tongue. Then I took the head of his dick in my mouth and went to work. There was this recent porno going around with much hype surrounding how the sister gave head. She did not have a damn thing on me. Spitting on dicks was skank but men thought that shit was actually sexy. She and I did have one thing in common; we were both passionate about sucking dick. However, I did it with class.

  Carmelo was trying to yank away from me in less than a minute. Yes, I can make men run from blow jobs because I suck them in like a pit bull with lockjaw. I tasted a little pre-cum and was thinking, Damn, not yet!

  He must have read my mind because he pushed my pussy up off his mouth for a second, just long enough to whisper, “Puedo quedarme,” meaning that he could hang.

  “Before I Let You Go” by Blackstreet was playing; one of my all-time favorites. “That’s good because before I let you go, I’m going to make sure that you remember me always.”

  He went back to sucking on my clit with a perfect intensity; confirming that his woman truly was a dummy. I had no idea what I planned to do with that wrench but after talking all that shit, I decided to experiment and see if he stopped me.

  I picked it up and adjusted it until I could fit it around the base of Carmelo’s dick; all the while still slobbering on him like an all-day sucker. When I tightened it, he flinched but did not yell out. I did not think it was possible but his dick got even harder than before. I gyrated the wrench back and forth on his dick while I went up and down on it with my mouth, deep-throating him like a pro. I would never prostitute myself but if I ever did, I would be the richest whore on the block.

  Carmelo was about to explode but I was not having that. I needed him to stay hard so I could take a ride. My juices were trickling down the insides of my thighs as I turned back around and straddled him, immediately sliding my pussy onto his dick. I never let go of the wrench. I keep working his thing like I was the maintenance worker. His face was a mixture of pain and pleasure. All he could say was. “Mierda!” Damn!

  I clamped onto the head and shaft of his dick with my pussy. I don’t care what anyone says, ben wa balls are worth their weight in gold when it comes to learning pussy control. I had been using them for more than ten years, since I was in high school, and I could smoke a cigar with my pussy if I wanted to. I rode Carmelo for more than thirty minutes until I sensed he could not take any more. Every time he was on the brink of having an orgasm, I would pull off of him, rub my pussy lips on his dick to make it good and hard again, tighten up the wrench, and then reinsert him with my free hand.

  Carmelo got a bit rough with me also by pinching my nipples and yanking on them. I bent down so he could suck my tits, one at a time, then both together. “Um,
that’s right, little bebé. Suck on them like you own them.”

  We fucked through several songs: “Between the Sheets” by the Isley Brothers, “Body” by Me’ Shell NdegeOcello, “Boogie Oogie Oogie” by A Taste of Honey, “Bravebird” by Amel Larrieux, and “Brown Sugar” by D’Angelo. Korey crossed my mind for all of five seconds and then I remembered that he cheated on me. I saw the chick once in passing at a Starbucks. I recognized her from a photo he had taken with her at a cookout. She had been all on him by the pool and I should have known they were fucking from the way she had her arms around him, as if saying, “This man is mine!”

  Carmelo had a woman but you would not have known it that night. I was cool with that because it was not like I was planning on moving to Mexico. I wanted to do a quick drive-by fucking and move on. In fact, even though I would be there a week, I decided that it would be that one night and nothing more for me and Carmelo. I could not risk catching feelings and since Korey had been my man for more than three years, anything was possible on the rebound. I was not used to being a whore, but I was good at it.

  When we took a break, Carmelo asked me if he was a “revenge fuck.”

  My reply was, “Am I?”

  He didn’t comment.

  I was lying there in his arms when I suggested, “How about you try to fix that Jacuzzi one last time? I would love to get busy in there with you.”

  He laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I fixed it in less than thirty seconds. I didn’t want to leave and was hoping it I dragged it out, things would develop.”

  I sat up and glared at him. “You planned to fuck me from the time you knocked on the door.”

  “I have a confession to make.”

  “What?” I asked apprehensively.

  “I saw you when you checked in, found out which villa you would be staying in and while they were still getting your bags on a golf cart, I came out here and broke your Jacuzzi.”

  “Increíble! Do you do this shit all the time with guests? What number am I?” I was fighting mad. “You asshole!”

  “I swear, I have never done this before. I have never been with a guest. I saw you and you were so beautiful and I really didn’t think it would lead to this. I wanted the chance to talk to you;that’s all. Why would I assume that I could have some of you by breaking your bathtub? Think about it!”

  I did think about it. There was no way he could imagine that I would be a willing fuck partner. “So you wanted to meet me?”

  “Yes, I only wanted to meet you.”

  “How did you know you would get the service call?”

  “This is my section. Fate was on my side. How could I not take advantage of it?”

  I laughed. “In that case, we should take advantage of the rest of the night.”

  “How do you suggest we do that?” Carmelo asked excitedly.

  “By fucking in that Jacuzzi.”

  We jumped up from the bed and damn near ran to the Jacuzzi. The water was freezing. Carmelo ran some additional hot water in and turned on the jets while I decided that I had heard enough of the “B” songs and went to dial the iPod to the “G” songs. “Grown & Sexy” by Babyface came on as I climbed in the water with Carmelo right behind me. He jumped when his ass hit the dildo.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Oh, say hello to my little friend,” I said with an accent, imitating Al Pacino from Scarface.

  Carmelo chuckled. “So this was what you planned to use to get off?”

  “Yes, but luckily for me, some real dick came along. Some real, juicy, riquísimo dick.”

  “I like you,” he whispered in my ear as be pushed my hair back to gaze into my eyes.

  “I like you, too, but you know this can go no further than tonight.”

  “I have no problem getting on a plane to come see you.”

  I sighed. “You have a woman and I sense that you love her; regardless of her recent attitude. The two of you will work things out and I don’t want to play second fiddle.”

  “What about your man?”

  “Korey and I are history. I’m going to live la vida loca. I’m going to have the time of my life this week; starting with you. Now, let’s have a little less talking and a lot more fucking.”

  We started tonguing each other down as “Grown Man Business” by Mos Def began to play. We fucked in the Jacuzzi for another hour before Carmelo’s radio started going off. Someone had overflowed a toilet in the villa three doors down. Before he left I made him use the dildo on my pussy while he fucked me in the ass. Yes, it was going to be one hell of a week!

  DAY TWO

  You Can Ride a Bull but Can You Ride Me?

  T he day after my arrival was Wednesday; a bullfight was in town. I was hesitant to go because I hated the sight of blood but it was the equivalent of being on Fear Factor for me. Watching a bull get massacred was going to be right up there with licking maggots off a windshield in hopes of winning fifty thousand dollars.

  I took a cab from The Moon Palace to Plaza de Toros in downtown Cancún, a small bullring, the kind where the poor bull does not stand a chance. He is half dead before he is even brought out. I was more amazed by the entertainment before the actual fight began. Dancers were dressed in vibrant colors and dancing around on the dirt like it was a celebration, instead of a murder in the making. Women came out giggling and smiling on horses and young men in ruffled shirts and tight black pants did tricks with ropes.

  They picked some people from the audience to go down and participate. This drunken man—who had screamed at the top of his lungs when the announcer asked if anyone was from Canada—grabbed my wrist and pulled me down the bleachers with him.

  “Come on, sweetness!” he said. “You look like you can ride a mean bull!”

  “I’m not riding shit!” I exclaimed, trying to yank away from him. Then I got hyped when people starting applauding and prodding me to be the only woman down there. I’m a competitive person who thought the women needed to be represented.

  “I can do this,” I whispered to myself as they handed me some pads to put on. “I can get over my fears.”

  Silly me, but I thought we were going out there to run from bulls or ride some bulls or even be in the ring with some bulls. But they sent a scrawny-ass goat out there instead. We had to run around the ring chasing it and trying to pull it down to the ground. The alcoholic from Canada got knocked up in the sky when the goat ran into his slow ass. I almost died laughing.

  They gave us all T-shirts and then sent us back to our seats. On the way, I spotted what could only be described as “the finest thing in Cancún.” He was tall, at least six-three, and had a bald head. That’s all I needed to see. I had a predilection for two clean heads on a man, one to lick and one to rub while he licked on me.

  He was dressed in the same tight black pants all the other men were wearing but his fit him like a glove. I could see the massive bulge in between his legs and hoped it wasn’t a jock cup. Those damn things can be so deceiving. Back in high school and college, I used to think the boys on the football team were seriously holding, only to discover a bunch of pencil dicks in the aftermath.

  I tried to get his attention backstage before they forced me back upstairs. He eyed me and winked. That was enough to make my panties wet. When I got back to my seat, I whipped out my camcorder. I had no intention of taping the bullfight. But him, I had to immortalize on film to show my friends back home. Seeing him, alone, would make them regret not taking me up on my offer to take Korey’s place on the trip.

  The bullfight was awful. The matador was skinny but “my dick” was one of the men who helped him contain the bull and I almost lost it when the matador had to stick the bull twice in the heart before he died. He actually cried and whined like a baby. It was a tearjerker. In fact, I started crying and left the plaza wiping my eyes.

  A little boy started pointing at me and laughed. He yanked on his mother’s skirt. “Look, Mom, she’s crying.”

&
nbsp; It’s a shame that kids are so desensitized by video games and movies that they are immune to violence by the time they are ten. The woman looked at me apologetically and was about to say something when a younger child, a little girl of about four, came up to her, pouting.

  “Mom, that man over there won’t take my play money. He wants real money.”

  Watching her hold up three fake ones from a board game lightened my mood and I found myself giggling along with the mother. The older boy shook his head and seemed ashamed of his younger sibling when he should have been ashamed of himself.

  I was suddenly starving and there was nothing of interest within walking distance of the bullring. A lot of Cancún was still being reconstructed after a recent hurricane. Many of the hotels along the water were still closed; pending refurbishment. I went upstairs to the bar adjacent to the plaza and ordered some wings and fries. I was washing it all down with a Corona with lime when “my dick” came in, wearing regular street clothes. Even in the jeans and faded T-shirt, his body was banging. He spotted me and winked again. One of the waitresses, clad in barely nothing, sashayed up to him and started flirting by rubbing his arms and telling him in Spanish what a great job he had done. Being a Virgo, I have a jealousy streak; even when the man is not mine. If I am even thinking about fucking a man, no other woman better look in his direction.

  I sat there, trying to size up the situation and determine if they were “friends with benefits.” I drew the conclusion that she was way more interested in him than vice versa. He kept glancing in my direction. I was sitting in a dim corner and there were no more than ten other patrons in the entire place, since the show was done for the day. I had on this pair of shorts that were so tight that they were causing my white lace thong to ride up in my pussy.

  I thought back to the bold night of lovemaking I had shared with Carmelo the night before. I had made it clear to him not to come knocking on my door for the remainder of my stay. He was hinting around about going at it again but I was determined not to let that happen. Yet, there I was, as horny as a damn bull; even though I had witnessed one being slain less than an hour earlier.