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The Cotten Kandi Diaries: “He Want That Cake”

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Paul walked into his empty home yet again. His wife was missing and this time, he was sure, she had had another late night at work.

It seemed this happened a lot lately. He’d come home expecting a warm embrace, a hot meal and perhaps a little romance.

“Sharmaine you home?”

Crickets.

Paul had noticed his wife was never home anymore. Her career was taking flight and he had become the next best thing – no longer a priority.

He was neglected, in more ways than he cared to mention. Mentally, emotionally and physically.

‘When the hell is she gonna come home? I need some ass,’ he thought.

Paul proceeded to warm himself the frozen TV dinner he had become accustomed to as of late.

Meanwhile Sharmaine was at work plotting just how she could surprise her husband.

Six months ago she and her best friend, Melissa, launched their event planning business. Business was booming. They’d spent four months prior networking and planning for two wedding receptions, a sweet sixteen and four bridal showers. Although they’d started off with a bang, the long hours had had a strain on her personal life. Her husband had become less of a priority. Movie nights were now in the past, many date nights had been cancelled and she felt a ton of guilt.

It was 8pm on a Wednesday evening and she and Melissa were heading home from a cake tasting. There would be a baby shower that weekend and the last minute planning left them beyond exhausted. They had become a zombie of their former self.

“Excuse me do you mind if I take the remainder of this cake home?” She asked the clerk.

“On no go ahead . It’s yours.”

“What are you going to do with all that cake?” Melissa wanted to you. “You know you’re gonna regret it later. Aren’t you trying to lose weight?”

“Yes, don’t remind me.”

“It’s not what you think. It’s for Paul.”

“I didn’t think Paul liked cake?”

“He doesn’t. But tonight he’s gonna love it on me. Anything with me on top is always a good treat.”

“Ohhhh…..girl you nasty.” Melissa said with a chuckle.

“I feel bad Mel. I mean I’ve been neglecting him a lot lately. By the time I get home he’s asleep and when he leaves for work I’m usually still knocked out. Tonight’s gonna be all about my man!”

By the time she got home, as usual, Paul was in bed. And lying next to him was a bottle of lubricant. Guess he resorted to pleasuring himself.

‘Freak,’ she thought.

‘My baby’s gonna be in for a show. He won’t be sleep for long.’

She quickly undressed, showered, lotioned, and re-dressed in a lace and leather body hugging leotard. Except, she hadn’t remembered it being so tight when she bought it. Perhaps Mel was right and she had gained some weight.

It didn’t really matter all that much anyway since Paul liked her on the thicker side, and, tonight was going to be all about him.

She returned to bedroom, went in the closet to find the 6 inch black suede pumps she bought days ago, placed them on, and wobbled back to the bathroom. She needed some essentials.

While he was still sleeping Sharmaine lit candles on the adjacent night-stands next to the bed. She also brought in a tray with deserts. Whip crème, honey, and the cake she’s brought back from the bakery.

She also brought out the massage oil she’d use to massage his body. It was one of the ways she intended on waking him up or his manhood rather.

Before she began, she dim the lights and placed her IPod on the computer desk near the bedroom door with the song selection of her choice on reserve.

She pressed play and posed seductively by the door.

What sounded like the revving of a small race car meshed with a herd of bees humming, “Birthday Cake” began blasting through the connected speakers on the floor.

Paul was immediately startled out of his sleep to see his wife’s ass bouncing in mid-air to the beat of the record. And…..he was also immediately as excited.

“Oh sh*t. Baby, make it clap! That’s what I’m talking bout.”

“Come and put yuh name on it, put yuh name on it, come and put yuh name on it, put yuh name on it….,” she sang.

His first intention was to jump out the bed and join his wife. But Sharmaine urged him to stay put.

“Stay right there Paul I’m coming.”

Sharmaine sang along while she grind and gyrated to the remainder of the song. By the time it was over, Paul was besides himself. He was fully erected and ready to go.

Sharmaine glided on to the bed with the massage oil and began giving him a massage — beginning at his shoulders down to the curl of his toes. She intentionally ignored his erection only to make it her back there, making it her focal point during the second round of massages. At this point he felt tortured.

She massaged up and down his shaft with both hands. The more she massaged the warmer the oil. And when she was done she took the can of whip crème and outlined his nipples. Liked it off. Outlined his stomach, licked it off. Outlined his manhood and licked it off but kept licking.

She proceeded to do the same with the honey, only this time, she outlined her own breasts, stomach, thighs, and instructed him to lick it off.

“Daddy want some cake,” she asked

“Hell yes!”

She then began feeding him a slice of cake she had sliced with the plastic knife that had been sitting on the serving dish.

“Good daddy?”

“Yes.”

Sharmaine took the tip of her index finger and scooped up the vanilla and pineapple icing that was nicely decorated in a floral pattern around the lemon cake. She placed it at his lips and so he began licking again.

She then scooped up some more icing from the cake and decorated her own body with it. Again, he kept licking.

“And what does daddy want right now,” Sharmaine wanted to know.

Paul’s face lit up. He had already anticipated this question and so he had an answer.

And in the sexiest voice he can imagine he stated, “Daddy wants more cake but doggy wants the kitty.”

Sharmaine immediately flipped him over and off her. At this point she was already nude and so was he. She took control and began riding like a jackhammer.

Toes curled, eyes closed and mouth open, Paul was in heaven. Their favorite position was doggy style. And with her back arched she gave him all the “cake” he wanted. He flipped it, tipped it and filled it. Then flipped it, tipped it, filled it some more.

They made love for at least 30 minutes before climaxing. Exhausted, sweaty and panting, they held each other. And as if they were thinking the same thing, in unison they began chanting “Cake, cake, cake, cake, cake, cake, cake, cake…”

By the end of the night they were both out like babies.

Sharmaine hoped it had been enough to keep Paul satisfied. Well, at least, until next time…

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