Southern Caramel Taffy (Part 1)

Vacationing during the summer in the south is a bit unbearable if you aren’t used to scorching temperatures. My hair did not give me any issues so I was okay with 103 degrees. I partook in all festivities for the girls’ vacation: drinking, binge eating, and seeing city trademarks.  I started to lose hope for any type of play for the weekend. I still prayed for some fun, anyway. The last day of the trip included plenty of water, and sightseeing across the city. That evening, I was ready to party and drink up. Accepting my fate that I was going to leave a new place without frisky fun.

The last night began with glasses of brown liquor while getting ready. I stood on the balcony of my hotel room, enjoying the heavy air and taking in my surroundings of the night sky. I’m not farsighted, but I was able to notice a guy across the other side of the building out on his balcony as well. Being that he was blurry in my vision, I could make out a little bit of his appearance. He had on a hat, his hair tied back, and dark skin. We confirmed we were looking at each other. He tried to sign his room number to me, but because I could not see, I yelled out my room number and signaled for him to come by.  

At this point I’m jumpy. Trotting up and down the hotel room, numerously looking out the peephole waiting to see him. Thanks to my failed eyesight, I was at risk of meeting an unattractive guy or some psychopath. Then the knock happened. My heart is in my throat when I see him appear before my door. Here I am face-to-face with Balcony Guy.

His handsome smooth dark-skinned face was covered with a neat beard, paired with natural dreadlocks tied back into two braids underneath a cap. “Howard.” He stuck out his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Brooke.” His demeanor was calm, cool, and unbothered.

“This is…” he paused to let out an awkward laugh. “New.”

I smirked, leaned against the door and agreed. “You don’t look weird, so maybe you’re not weird, Howard.” Saying his name must have caught his attention because he gave me a slight stare. We kept the introductory conversation light, exchanging numbers, birthdays and hometowns.

“Hey, listen. I’m having a little hotel party in my room. Stop by before you head out for the night. It’ll be great to see you again.”

I finished getting dressed and stopped by to take a couple of shots with him. He let me know he’ll be waiting up for me because he wanted to see me again.

Through the evening, I wasn’t fully aware of the dream lying at my feet. This was a complete stranger I shared an attraction with from the start. My girlfriends egged me on and teased me for my anxiety. After partying and mustering up the confidence to see him, I found myself knocking on his hotel room door around 4 a.m. The roles were reversed as he opened the door for me this time.

We talked, and he played chill R&B music, strobe lights from his stereo blinked through the dimly lit room. We shared minor and major interests with social ideologies, travel and school.  He was the captain on my flight to cloud 9 after smoking and sharing more drinks.

Randomly, he reached over and began running his fingers through my hair and massaging my scalp. The sensory overload consumed my body. I could barely keep my thoughts together. In an attempt to calm myself, I got up and walked over to the balcony. The city skyline was bright with blue and orange lights beneath the black sky. I overheard him make a sexy and intimate request from across the room, “Queen, can you take my braids out for me?”

I paced over slowly, and began taking out the braids, being careful in each gesture. He was kissing my stomach softly in the meantime, but not doing anything too sudden. I could feel the fullness of his lips soften into my skin. Once his dreadlocks were sprawled out, I ran my fingers through his hair. Returning the favor of the scalp massage. I felt his breath deepening against my skin.

I kneeled in front of him, settling my hands on his face.  His lips were melted marshmallows against mine. I stopped for a second, gathered my breath, “I’m going to freshen up in the bathroom.” I practically ran to the door and took a quick two-minute inhale-exhale exercise. My nerves were still jittery over the actions I was committing. A stranger?

I left the bathroom, walked over to his bed, and began to remove my jeans and blouse. As he watched me undress, I noticed a small smile on his face. “What?” I asked.

“You know you are amazing to look at, right?” he said. As black as I am, I know I blushed somehow. I hid my smile and fixed the straps on my panties and bra. Knowing he was watching, I slowly crawled across the king-size bed with slow and steady strides. He did not come to the bed yet; instead he was afar and trying to make conversation.

“So I’m laying here practically naked and you’re just going to sit there?” I sat up, giving him a side eye. He laughed, looking nervous for a second.

“I don’t want to be too forward. I’m going by whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Well, I’m comfortable with you coming over here to me.” And that he did.


[to be continued here…]

Prev post: My Favorite Ways to Feel SexyNext post: 4 Creative and Convenient Dates

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: