Couples of South Pointe Lake

15. Arrival

Like a drastic change in the weather forecast, South Pointe Lake residents awoke to a dreary clouded Saturday morning to realize they had new arrivals in their midst.  What baffled many was that they hadn’t been aware of when the newcomers’ arrived.  They simply woke up to discover this to be so.

Ollie Moss stepped out of his home at his usual time in his bathrobe to fetch his newspapers and check his mailbox that he neglected doing last night.  As usual, his eyes happened across the street, at the former Alvarezes’ compound, and he stopped when he observed something new about the place.  There was a U-HAUL truck in the driveway, including two other vehicles, one of which was the same Mercedes that Steve saw last week.  Ollie stood beside his mailbox stand and observed people lifting furniture items from the U-HAUL into the house.  He stopped to look toward his left when he noticed someone approaching, and it turned out to be Larry, out on his morning exercise.  Larry was about to make some snarky remark when he looked in the same direction as Ollie and saw when he was seeing.

“Are those the new neighbors?” Larry asked.

“Looks that way,” Ollie said.  “Steve told me he met the wife last week when he came by.  He said she seemed kind of nice.”

“What was she: a Cruella DeVille?”

“Wasn’t what he mentioned at all.” 

“You haven’t met her?”

“If I had, you’d have known.  We’ll have to wait and see.”

They stood there in silence, watching the men return to cart items from the van into the house; they looked less hurried about their work.  A yellow-painted van with a landscaping company's name drove into the driveway and stopped beside the U-HAUL.  Larry, too, has his eyes on the vehicle. 

“Whoever they are, they look set on moving in today,” Ollie remarked.

“Who do you wanna bet is gonna be first to offer them a baked ‘Welcome You’ cake?” Larry asked, his sarcasm bubbling.

Ollie had no answer to his question, not that he needed to provide any.  It was an honored tradition that established South Pointe Lake residents were always on the lookout to welcome new additions to the community.  It was a quest of who got to meet first and spread the earliest gossip down the rumor mill as such.

The distinction of who first welcomed the new family went to the most unusual couple nobody would have assumed were aware of the new arrivals.  At 12:23 p.m., Mike Lasson accompanied his wife, Alicia, who carried a chocolate cake she had hurriedly baked hours ago to the house that previously housed the Alvarezes.  Alicia adjusted the arm of her dress while Mike knocked on the door.  They beamed broad smiles as the door opened and they got to meet the African-American couple for the first time.  The woman introduced herself as Yemi, and her husband, an impressive-looking hunk named Olu Shango. 

Yemi accepted the cake and welcomed them into their home.  She led them to the kitchen, which she mentioned was currently the cleanest room to be in, as the U-HAUL personnel pattered about, busily carting furniture from one room to another.  Olu Shango left them to continue supervising everything.  Mike and Alicia made conversation while inquiring about whatever necessary assistance Yemi and her husband might need to facilitate them becoming a part of the community.  They stayed for nearly an hour before deciding to take their leave.  Olu did stop by to chat with them before marching from room to room to observe how things were going.  He returned to shake hands once more before walking them to their doorstep and waving goodbye.  Alicia locked hands with Mike as they left the compound and headed for home.  

“They seem very nice,” Alicia remarked coyly, to which Mike agreed.  “I can’t help liking the wife, Yemi.  That braided hair of hers is so gorgeous.”

“Yes.  Her husband looks the jovial sort,” Mike echoed.

“Did you see that outfit she wore?  The fancy designs on it,” Alicia continued as if she hadn’t heard him.

“Hey, I thought that was supposed to be my line.”

“You wish,” she pinched his arm.  “Don’t think I wasn’t observing you not taking your eyes off her.”

“Look who’s talking.  That’s the same aspect I caught with the way your eyes danced whenever her husband entered the room.”

“Aww, so you were watching.”

“I was standing right beside you the entire time, remember?”  They walked in silence for a while, observing the homes they passed.  Mike was lost in contemplative thought when an idea then struck him.  “This might sound strange, but what do you think are the chances that they’d be interested in the kinky stuff we do?”

“Exactly what kinky stuff do you have in mind, honey?”

“You know what I mean,” he said, as if admonishing her to quit playing coy with him.  “You don’t need me to say it out loud, do you?”

“Don’t mind me, honey, I was just playing.  The weird thing is it’s a long while since we ever got to play with anyone.  We still haven’t done it with anyone here in South Pointe.”

“That’s because you’re the one always nervous about exploring.  You think maybe Steve and Angie would be interested.  If we can ask them . . .”

“No,” Alicia shook her head.  “It won’t feel right, not with them.  I don’t even think they like us that much.  Don’t you hate the way Steve often complains about our noise, like it’s too much of a bother?”

“In their eyes, that’s the way they wanna look at us.  Okay then, f**k ‘em then.  Yemi and Olu are new here, which means we can move in on them quickly.  Besides, they do seem interesting.”

A car drove past them and the driver honked his horn to catch their attention.  Mike saw the driver and waved at him as he continued down the street.  A mild breeze blew around them.

“Yemi looks beautiful,” said Alicia.  “I’d like to get to know more of her.  Yeah, I think we can give them a try, as long as we don’t end up scaring them off.”

“If they love your cake, then there’s every chance they will, hon,” Mike kissed her.  “I think we’ll be seeing more of them as the days go.”

They were getting closer to their home when they spotted Angie holding court with her friend, Morgan, in front of her driveway.  Both women were enjoying a cigarette break when Mike and Alicia stopped to exchange hugs and handshakes.  

“Where are your men at?” Alicia asked after they had exchanged pleasantries.

“Inside,” Angie gestured at her home.  “It’s football weekend,” she explained.  “Syracuse and Washington State are battling it out.  Morgan and I opted to catch some air.  You guys went for an evening walk?”

“Not exactly,” Mike said.

“We went to welcome the new neighbors,” said Alicia.

This caught both women’s attention.  Morgan seemed more surprised than Angie.  “New neighbors?  What’re you talking about?  Since when did we have new neighbors here?”

“You haven’t heard?” Angie brought her up to speed.  “A new couple had bought that Alvarezes’ home; seems they moved in today.”

“Black-American couple, to be exact,” said Alicia.  “They arrived this morning.”

“They’re still fixing the house up as we speak,” Mike explained. 

 “I’d like to meet them,” said Morgan.  “I hope they’re the friendly sort.  We could use some new faces around here.”

“What did they seem like?” asked Angie.

“Very friendly,” said Alicia.  “The wife is pretty; the same goes with her husband.”

“They’ve got themselves a weird last name, though,” Mike added. 

“Honey, what did you say their last name was?” Steve asked later that evening as he returned to the living room from the kitchen.  He carried with him a bowl of nachos and an ice bucket containing bottles of beer inside.

“Shango,” Angie answered while she served slices of chocolate cake to Larry and his wife, Blondie, who had dropped by for a visit.  Angie pronounced the name as ‘San-goo,’ finding it impressively odd to hit the vowel notes.  The name conjured an abstractly dark and mysterious image in her mind when Alicia mentioned the name to her.  She saw the odd look on Steve’s face and knew what he was thinking.  “I know, honey.  I thought the same thing when Angie told me.

 “Have you guys met the couple yet?” asked Blondie after thanking Angie for her cake.

Steve gave both of them Budweiser before settling down with one for himself.  The TV was on, but the volume was on mute; classic jazz played from the stereo system.

“They’re the toast of the neighborhood right now,” Angie grabbed a beer for herself then settled beside Steve.  “From what I heard, people are acting all excited like they’ve never met a black couple before.”

“Not that you can really blame them,” said Larry, “it’s been years since we had a black-American couple here in South Pointe.  This place is grown fascist with its liberalism, with people wearing it like it’s some sort of merit badge to be proud of.  I’m surprised they haven’t begun indoctrinating their kids in school already.”

“Aw, stop sounding harsh, darling,” Blondie said.  “This isn’t the apocalypse we’re living in.  And will you quit using awkward words like fascist around?  It makes you sound gloomy like you can’t help it.”

“I’m sorry I can’t help myself, hon.  Steve knows I don’t mean anything serious.  I’m just expressing my opinion about fake-ass people acting all surprised when they see someone looking or acting different from them, or whatever it is they expect.  It’s nothing but a façade to these people, and it grates on my nerves whenever I witness that.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re the Captain Obvious who’s always taking things too personal, Larry,” said Steve.

“You should learn to leave well enough alone with people sometimes,” Angie said, trying not to sound caustic, even though what she would have loved to do was hurl her beer at Larry’s sneering feature.

“I know, and I’m trying to turn a new leaf.  It gets to be hard sometimes.”

“You’re both witnesses here,” Blondie said mockingly to Angie and Steve.  “You see what I have to work with every time.  I’m running out of ideas of what to do about him.”

“Oh, come on, darling,” said Larry, pulling Blondie into his arms, attempting to win back the pleasant atmosphere.  “You know I’m a softie when it comes to you.”

“Sometimes, I can only but wonder about you.”

Blondie did display aggrieved annoyance on her face that was obvious to witness by Steve and Angie.  It wasn’t the first time.  For Angie, it was a blatant reminder of how pompous and insufferable a character Larry was, mostly when it involved making simple conversation.  He was always itching to hijack an unnecessary argument, making it easy for anyone to dislike his attitude.  For the life of Angie, she couldn’t comprehend whatever good faith on Steve’s part that made him still consider Larry as a friend.  Another perplexing issue was how tight Larry and Blondie were as a couple.  Had Blondie ever contemplated divorcing him due to his attitude?  This is something she would have loved to find out about, but carefully to not create a dilemma out of it.  She especially wouldn’t want Blondie to start thinking she was poking holes into her marriage.  That would likely snowball into a severe wedge capable of hurting their friendship. 

Wanting to reset the mood, Angie steered the conversation to what they had been previously discussing.  “About this new couple, is it just them, or are they with kids?”

Blondie answered with a shake of her head.  “No kids.  Or maybe the wife is expecting.  Who knows.”

“What I’d like to know is their affiliation,” Larry turned a curious eye to Steve.  “I want to know how deep of a liberal couple they are.  Are they Social Democrats or Independent?”

“Why Democrat?” asked Steve. 

“They’re black, so why else won’t they be?  They’ve got Affirmative Action and everything it entails.  I doubt they’re Republican, though definitely would be a shocker.”

“Can we please talk about something that doesn’t involve you veering into politics, dear?” Blondie spoke with exasperation while giving Larry a stern look that spoke louder than her words.  “Please, I can do without any of that.”

“We’re just having ourselves some fine conversation, darling.  No fuss.”

“You know you’re going to be punished if you do.”

Steve looked toward Angie for a brief second, wondering if she too caught what he had heard.  Angie did but reverted her eyes to what was going on in the TV screen than wanting to get drawn into whatever mystery was unfolding in their friends’ marital relationship.

A respite occurred when the doorbell rang; as if on cue, Steve couldn’t have been happier for the distraction.  He rushed to the door and was surprised by what he saw through the peephole.  

 “Everything all right, honey?” asked Angie, who had come to join him.  She, too, wanted to get away briefly from the living room.

The doorbell sounded off again, breaking whatever spell that held Steve from responding.  “Oh, yeah, of course.  We’re about having ourselves a surprise visit.”

He opened the door to reveal the same couple they had been discussing standing on his porch.  Yemi smiled at them, looking radiant in a sleeveless blouse and jeans.  Time stood still for the few seconds that it took for Steve to absorb her smile before switching to the casually-clad black gentlemen beside her.  He didn’t mask the potent aura that permeated from him.  He had broad shoulders with what appeared to be a massive pair of arms under his turtleneck sweater.  He sported a trimmed goatee beard and a shaved head.  His face was so distinct; Steve couldn’t guess at his age.  Altogether, they looked like a charming couple.  

“Hi,” the black man shook his hand and introduced himself as Olu Shango.  “We’re sorry to intrude like this, but my wife told me how you got to be her first friend when she last came by here, so we thought we’d come to say hello.”  

“Yes, that’s very gracious of you.”  Steve stepped aside to introduce them to Angie before inviting them into their home.

Larry and Blondie had attained peace between themselves and looked anxious to meet the couple as Angie invited them inside, while Steve jetted to the kitchen to get more drinks.  The drinks flowed and the mood grew more relaxed than previous.  Yemi gushed about the welcoming committee of neighbors that had been pressing their doorbell all day.  She had later inquired from one of the couples about Steve, from whom she had known how to locate his home.

“You both feel like the ideal people to visit,” Yemi addressed Angie while she cut into her cheesecake.  “Olu wanted us to wait it out until we’d gotten reasonably settled.  There’s still plenty of furniture to arrange; I had to drag him out of the house so sight-see the neighborhood.”

Olu laughed in agreement.  “She does know how to work her magic on me.”

“That’s quite an accent you have, Olu,” said Angie.  “I’m curious about where you’re originally from.” 

“Nigeria, born and raised,” he said.  “At least I was until I met my life partner here.”

“How and when did the two of you meet?”

“You ever heard that classic song: ‘Son of a Preacher Man’?  That was her,” he gestured at Yemi.  “Her dad was a Baptist preacher who ran an NGO missionary school in Nigeria.  I used to work for him, and one day, I saw this gorgeous beauty and felt it was God talking to me.”

“There he goes, saying it like he got smitten just like that,” Yemi laughed.  “I often got tossed between my parents, who were separated, and my mom was here in the States, while my dad stayed with his work in Lagos, Nigeria.  He always wanted me to learn about the country, so I got stuck with him most of my years.  Olu and I became friends, and he got to show me more of what the country was about.  That was how we connected.”

“What’s the city life like over there?” Blondie asked.

“Lagos is one of the biggest cities in Africa.  It’s forever bustling, and it’s got some of the best thriving nightlife you can imagine.  There are places there where the partying goes on all night.”  

“Sounds like my kind of place,” Larry remarked.  “I’ve heard stories about Nigeria.  Didn’t it used to be under military rulership back in the days?”

“That regime ended twenty years ago,” Olu answered.  “The country’s become more democratic since.”

“In other words, the country’s safe to visit?  I mean safe for white folks like myself to come?”

“As long as you pay no mind to whatever the State Department has to say about that.  They treat every country outside of North America as if there are wars ongoing daily.  Yemi and I journey back home almost every Christmas.”

“How long have you been married?” Steve asked, wanting to get involved in the conversation.

“We’ll be three years in December,” Yemi answered.  “More happy years down the road to come.” 

“Hear, hear!” Larry declared, raising his beer for a toast.  “Here’s to more happiness and glory days to you both, and welcome to South Pointe Lake.”

Steve and Angie lifted their glasses too.

Later that night in bed:

“They seem nice,” Angie said.  “Cute and nice.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, of course of do,” she turned to Steve.  “What?  You don’t think so?”

“No, I didn’t mean that at all.”  He was reading something on his Samsung tablet while Angie had a book open before her.  They sat with their backs against the headboard while their feet lay under the sheets.  “They seem too vanilla if you ask me.  More vanilla than chocolate.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe I’m just wool-gathering in my head about something else.  She just looks too good for someone like him.”

“Look who’s talking.  You know nothing about him.”

“I’m aware of that, hon.  Don’t mind me; I’m reading too much meaning when I shouldn’t.  They look so fitting with each other.  It’s like they’re too cookie-clean or factory-fitted if you’ll excuse the reference.”

Angie was silent for a moment while she pondered his words.  It was enough to make her lose interest in her book.

“You’ve lost me, darling.  What exactly is cookie-clean to you?”

“You know what I mean, Ang.  Let me ask you something, would you have figured he was Nigerian if you hadn’t asked where he was from?”

“No, but I didn’t have that in mind when I raised the subject.  I just thought he has a cute accent.”

“Yeah, I thought so too.” 

“I do like her name too, Yemi.  She reminds me of a colleague of mine in our firm.  She’s an environmental lawyer, and she too is from Nigeria.  Once we got to talking about her country, and she told me they’ve got many ethnic tribes there.” 

“Maybe next time you can find out which Olu belongs to.  Won’t hurt to ask.”

“No, it won’t.  But you know what almost did, listening to Larry espouse his crass bullshit the evening.  How come he can’t learn to shut his trap when someone tells him to.”

“He’s one of those blokes who can’t help himself, is my guess,” Steve suggested.

“Did you catch what Blondie said about punishing him?”

“Loud and clear, whatever that meant.  But enough of that, darling.”  Steve put away his tablet and switched off his bedside lamp.  “How about we go to bed and not worry anymore about Larry of whatever else that’s on the mind.”

“I’m happy to second that motion, honey.”  Angie left her book on her bedside cabinet, then switched off her off lamp before slipping down under the covers.  Steve turned on his side to face her.  They locked hands while their feet rubbed against each other.  There was shared serene pleasure in the silence around them.

“We once were like that, you know,” she muttered.

“Uh, what?”

“Them,” Angie emphasized.  “Yemi and Olu.  The way they seem so in love, we were like that once.”

“We still are, honey.”

“I don’t know,” she murmured.  “You say it, but I don’t feel it.”  She tapped on his shin with her feet.  “You remember what I said the other night?”

Steve felt his frustration growing in his head.  He wanted nothing besides silence, and for the silence to claim him so he could drift off to sleep.  With Angie, he knew that wasn’t going to happen right away.  “No, darling, I don’t remember.”

“I said that it’s been a while since we had ourselves some type of fun.  You know what type of fun I mean, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied with a weary voice.  

Steve knew exactly what type of fun she meant with the way she sultrily massaged his feet with hers.  He knew what was coming if he succumbed to her tantalizing ministrations, of which he was reluctant to do.  But he simultaneously dreaded the outcome should he decide instead to call it a night.  For the benefit of making things right, Steve threw the covers off, then rolled toward his wife.

*          *          *

In their next-door neighbor’s home, the Lassons had themselves an erotic epiphany, the likes of which they hadn’t partaken in a long while.  To think that tonight of all nights, they had been caught by the throes of explicit passion before.  In the past, they had indulged in all manners of erotic kink with other couples.  Not since they settled in South Pointe had the flame of reliving such audacious moments been as strong with them, unlike today.  For Alicia, it was similar to rekindling with a neglected part of herself.  This past couple of years, she and Mike had unequivocally assumed that they were evolving into something they feared but were too afraid to discuss.  The idea that they were becoming too domesticated while adjusting to the conservative livelihood that was suburban martyrdom.  They had found themselves incapable of wrestling with the abject words to express the ubiquitous feeling.  

Tonight was a game-changer, or at least that’s how Mike wanted to view it.  A chance to remind themselves of who they are and to take stock of what they share.

After stopping to chat with Angie and Morgan hours ago, they had rushed home as if they were so anxious to get inside.  Mike had barely slammed the door shut when Alicia attacked him unannounced.  His back slammed against the door and he ended up tumbling a flower pot that stood beside the door.  The pot shattered and spilled flowers and loamy soil on the floor, but neither appeared to care.  Alicia struggled to rip her husband’s shirt amid her frenzied kissing.  Mike lifted his wife off her feet and carted her into the living room, where he proceeded to make love to her in the strongest way possible.  It had been months since he got imbued by this type of enthusiasm.  Even their eventual climax didn’t signal that it was over for them as they laid on the sofa gasping and sweating.  They left their clothes behind and dashed upstairs to continue their romp.

Alicia went scavenging one of the assortments of cabinets in her closet that contained her assortment of s*x gadgets and dildos.  She had them in varying lengths and girth, ranging from small to extra-large.  She rummaged through her collection before finding what she wanted—a thirteen-inch black dildo.  She brought it to the bed where Mike laid with his wrists tied to the bedposts.  He smiled with eagerness as he spread his legs for her to work the dildo on him.

“Patience, babe,” Alicia teased him.  “Patience.  Let’s not make haste of things.”

Alicia sucked on the dildo, deriving pleasure from watching her, before deciding it was time he got his own medicine.  Mike lifted his rump for her to work at shoving the dildo up his rectum.  Alicia was too impatient to apply some lube to ease his entry pain.  Mike tensed as he attempted to relax his sphincter muscles while Alicia applied strength and guile in jamming the dildo into his asshole.  It was a struggle keeping up his balance of lifting his butt off the bed while being tied to the bedposts.  That was because it had been months since he and Alicia played this type of game.  It was more fun when they got to involve a third company, preferably another male companion.  

Someone with a dominant will power who wasn’t put upon by Mike’s bisexual tendencies.  Such men were hard to come by, especially among swingers circles, which often comprised horny, middle-aged couples seeking the same type of raw, masculine lovers that they were after.  They were yet to stumble upon anyone in South Pointe that fit the bill, either that or they hadn’t been looking hard enough.  Mike was aware of a few other couples like Ollie Moss and his wife, who harbored swinging desires like theirs.  He had exchanged conversations with Ollie several times regarding their s****l tastes, but they were yet to carve out time to enjoy a shared experience together.  One aspect they both agreed was their fascination with watching their wives getting f****d by someone other than themselves.  Their conversation, though, never included the subject of humiliation.  For Mike, that was another sumptuous dessert he enjoyed.  Alicia always took pleasure in suitably humiliating him when having s*x with someone else.  With her dildo sliding up his crack right now, it heightened her libido in ways that nothing else could.  

“I know you’re thinking about him, aren’t you, babe,” Alicia sneered as she went on stretching her husband; the insults always helped to exacerbate his humiliation.  “Go ahead, tell me I’m lying.”

“No, darling,” Mike grunted.  “You’re f*****g right.”

“You’re thinking about Olu f*****g me, aren’t you, babe?”  Her thrusts were hard and unrelenting.  Mike’s whimpering cries compelled her mercilessness.  “Tell me how much you want me to become his b***h.  Go ahead, sissy.  Tell me.”

“Uuhhh . . . I want . . . I want you . . . to be his bitch.”

“You want to see him rip me apart with his huge black c**k, don’t you, sissy boy?”

“Awwhh . . . Aahhh . . . yes!” Mike panted.  “Yes, I want that.”

“Say it, sissy boy,” she slapped his butt.  “Say the words to me.”

“I want . . . I want him to rip you—Oohhh!—rip you apart with his c**k!”

“You’d love to watch, won’t you, sissy boy?” she snarled.  “You’d love to be the b***h boy that you are and watch a real man take me?”

“Oohhh yes!” Mike gasped.  “f**k yes, I want that!”

“You’d love for him to c*m in me, too?”

“Ahh!  Ohh, God, honey.  Take it easy—”

“Shut the f**k up, sissy boy!” Alicia slapped his butt once again.  “Shut up and answer the f*****g question.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Mike moaned.  His arm muscles felt as though they wanted to pull down the headboard.  “God, yes!”

“So, you’d want me to have his c*m all in my p***y, don’t you?”

“Yes, babe.  I want that for you.  I love you and want what’s best for you.”

“Hmmm, I love you too, babe.”

Alicia stopped her dildo workout.  Her arms were aching all to way to her shoulders.  Mike laid there gasping and sweating while she undid his wrists bounds. 

“Now it’s your turn to do me, honey.” 

She gave him time to relax before handing him the dildo.  Mike came and positioned himself behind her while Alicia got on her elbows and knees.  She wiggled her butt, then tensed as he commenced his turn of punishment.