Ezra 12.
Awkward doesn’t begin to cover dinner. At least the start of it. Taking her to the diner had been a risk. She could have been the type of woman expecting a Michelin star restaurant. A place that will only seat you with a reservation made months in advance. I could have read her completely wrong…but I didn’t.
She opened her mouth and her every thought, concern, and wish came spilling right out. I gleaned from her little tirade outside of the elevator all those weeks ago that she hasn’t had the best dating history. And at the time, all I wanted was to put a smile on a sad woman’s pretty face with a couple of well-deserved orgasms. Then she challenged me, lifted that skirt and dared me with her eyes to put up or shut up. Every second in her presence I fell a little harder, a little deeper and I cared less and less about ever surfacing again.
I should know by now that all it takes is one moment, a single second to change your life. My parents, aunts and uncles, hell, even my Avinu, the Porn King, and my brother were independent capable people one second, and the next they were inextricably linked to someone else, mind, body and soul. For several, their significant others were anchors in a violent sea. Moshe and Zeppo cling to Seril and Ruthie because they embody the humanity they feel they’ve sacrificed in the name of the mishpocheh .
I can’t predict the future. I can’t know for certain that Dorothy Goldman and I will stand the test of time. But I do know, without a doubt, that she stokes something deep inside of me, stirs my soul to life, elicits a hunger that demands satisfaction. And a part of me prays that I never find it. That I crave her for the rest of my days. Because of everything I’ve ever done in my life, the stains on society I’ve eliminated, the step up I’ve given to those in need, the pain I’ve endured for those I hold most dear…being hers will be a life well-lived.
And our conversation over dinner only cements that belief. She’s adorable, smart, witty, sexy, and poised. Her strength is evident in how she carries herself, speaks of her sisters, their business, and the kindness she shows strangers.
“I’m texting Sophia now. She’ll know of at least 10 different spots that would be perfect to exhibit your artistry.”
Reese gawks, spluttering as her face flushes. The poor girl, a senior in high school, has been responsible for the baked goods in the diner her parents own for the last two years. Simple cookies to elaborate cakes to spun sugar candies to pies, she does it all. And it took no time for Dottie to see her potential, clasping her proverbial hands together to hoist the young woman up.
“They’re just cupcakes.” Reese argues softly, her eyes downcast. Her parents, JD and Connie, shake their heads fondly at their daughter. They know she’s got talent; they bought a display case just for her and put it in place of pride in the center of the entry.
“Sweetie, what I buy at Harris Teeter when I’m craving junk food with enough sugar to frighten Wilfred Brimley, are just cupcakes. This…this is an experience. ” For God’s sake, she moans with her head tossed back and her eyes blissfully closed, and my fucking cock rises up and demands attention.
Dot opens her eyes when a tinny voice says, “St. Olaf.” She glances at her phone and bounces in her seat with an excited giggle. My mouth waters at the sight of her tits jiggling until JD notices and nudges me with his foot and coughs. I look up at him with a smirk and shrug. Can’t help it, man. Thankfully, his wife and daughter are too busy looking at whatever is on Dot’s phone.
“Connie, what’s your number? I’m going to send it to Soph, she’ll contact you—”
“Now!” Reese screeches. Immediately, she slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.
“Reese.” Connie wraps her arm around her daughter’s neck and pulls her close. “It’s already after dinner time. We’ll talk with Dot’s sister tomorrow.”
Reese nods, but it’s easy to see her disappointment. “Right. Yeah. That makes sense.”
Dot hands her phone to her. “She’s waiting for your phone number too. When you’re done, box me up whatever you have left from today. I’ll share with my sisters tonight.”
“You have more than one sister?”
Dottie nods at Reese with a grin. “Yup.” Reese starts furiously typing as Dottie explains, “Blanche, Rose, Sophia and me, Dorothy.”
Connie snorts before she starts laughing. “The Golden Girls ?”
Dottie lifts a shoulder, “The Goldman Girls.”
I’m taken aback when Connie looks at me and pins me in place with a stern motherly glare. “I like her.” I nod, because I don’t know how else to respond. “You’ll bring her back.” I nod again as JD chuckles. “Often.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I’m not a stupid man. I know a good thing when I see it. And ain’t nothing as good as Dottie Goldman.
About twenty minutes later, my saddlebags are stuffed with baked goods, and I know it smells amazing, but I’m more distracted by the scent of my woman as she wraps herself around me from behind on my bike. Anxious and horny, I only make it as far as an abandoned building a few blocks away, checking the area before pulling behind the structure to hide from the main road.
“Ez? Is everything alright?” Her concern is clear, but I’m too stuck on the way my shortened name sounds on her lips. It only fans the fire that’s burned low in my gut since I met her.
The tether I had on my control since picking her up for our date snaps as she looks at me with wide eyes, a furrow between her sculpted brows. Kickstand down, I swing my leg over the bike and stand with my hands fisted on my hips.
“Off. Now.” Her brows dip farther, but she does as I say. Her legs are shorter, and she’s never been on a bike before tonight, so she’s not graceful in her dismount, but her big ass flashes my way, and my cock jumps in my pants. “Against the wall.” I command when she’s got both feet on the ground. “Face me.”
“Oh.” Realization dawns on her face and a beautifully sinful smile stretches her plump lips. “Alright. Alright. Alright.” She adds a twang to her voice as she imitates Matthew McConaughy, resting her shoulders against the wall of the building, her palms pressed flat on either side of her luscious body. In a t-shirt and jeans, she shouldn’t be as sexy as she is. It isn’t fair. How am I supposed to behave when she’s looking at me like that?
I stalk toward her, her chest rising rapidly as her breath hitches. It’s dark, but there’s just enough light to see her cheeks pinken. Bracketing her head with my hands on the wall, I lean down and take her lips. It’s savage. It’s rough. It’s fucking perfection. Her hands come up to my chest, molding the muscles, abrading my nipples through the thin layer of my own t-shirt.
I step closer, never taking my mouth from hers, dropping my hands to the waistband of her jeans. I unbuckle her belt, pop the button, and unzip. The rasp of the zipper, almost as loud as our breathing. Diving under the material, my fingers catch on the string of her underwear, then I push it all down as I squat before her. Her pussy, trimmed and glistening, is inches from my face. Her clit peeking at me, taunting me. I yank one shoe off, toss it behind me, pull her leg free from her jeans, and then prop it up on my shoulder.
Our time in the elevator was memorable, unforgettable, but quick. I didn’t have the chance to properly explore her. And unfortunately, in the dark outside an abandoned building isn’t the place either. But I refuse to go another minute without her taste on my tongue, smeared across my lips, and dripping down my chin.
“Oh fuck!” She screams, her body jolting when I latch onto her clit and suck. Her hands card through my hair, tugging at the root, pushing me into her cunt. Smothering me. Fuck yes. Her pelvis rocks, forcing my tongue along her slit over and over. When I slip two fingers into her, she gives up any pretense or sense of decorum and rides my face like a champ.
“Suck! Harder! Ezra, fuck. Curl your fingers. Rub. Right. There.” I chuckle even as I do as she commands, loving her brazenness. She is a woman who knows what she wants and she’s willing to take it. There’s no timidity or shyness. And that fucking turns me on.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She chants lowly in time with her thrusts until my fingers drip her release. She’s panting as she spasms, her head tipping back and her fingers tightening in my hair. I lick up every drop of her orgasm, reveling in the taste of her, the salty tartness. I made her cum. Hard.
I’m too busy patting myself on the back when her grip changes. She tugs my head back, leans over and licks across my chin, up to my lips, and then shoves her tongue into my mouth. She hums, enjoying her own unique flavor.
“You ever played basketball?” She asks and it takes several seconds for me to register her question.
“What?”
“You ever tried out for your middle school or high school basketball team?”
I shrug, unsure where she’s going with this, but willing to go along. My neck is forcibly arched by her hand in my hair, as I look up, immediately ensnared by the heat of her gaze. “Yeah.” I answer, my voice hoarse. “Middle school. Didn’t make the team.”
She chuckles, dragging me up and switching our places. My back against the wall now, she nods down at my pants. “Down to your ankles. Then squat.”
“Huh?”
She slowly trails her hand from my head, down my face, across my lips, down my neck, chest, and abs, until she cups my steel erection through my jeans. “Pants. Down.” I nod, I understand so far. “Back to the wall.” Ok. “Squat down to create a seat. I’m gonna sit down and take you for a spin.”
“Fucking hell.” I mutter. I’ve never removed my pants faster. Jeans and boxer briefs slide down and I go with them until my knees are in line with my feet. Shit. I remember now. Basketball tryouts, we had to stay like this for as long as we could. I only made it three minutes before my thighs were screaming at me. I’m older, in better shape, but still…I watch with rapt attention, a smirk on her face, she straddles my legs and using one hand to hold my cock upright, sinks down, down, down. “Oh, God!”
Warm. Wet. Tight. Fucking spectacular.
Dottie grabs my hands, places them on her wide hips, and begins to fuck me speechless. Her body undulates, writhes, dances on my cock. Her hands tease her tits, my own nipples, before settling on my neck. We stare into each other’s eyes, and the breath punches from my lungs. My future. Right here. This woman. This incredible, incredible woman.
My cock begs my thighs to hang on just a little longer. We can’t give out until she’s cum. Until I cum. I want to cum so bad. Inside her. The only place my cum belongs from now until I die.
Her fingers squeeze my throat ever so slightly and it’s like there’s a direct line to my balls. I whine. Whimper. It’s good. So, so good.
She leans in close, her breath fanning my lips, her eyes demanding my attention. She’s had it, always had it. Since the moment I met her. “I’m sorry, Ezra. I judged you unfairly.” How is she talking? Her pussy snaps around my shaft, her hips swivel, her back bows pressing her chest to mine. “I didn’t give you a chance. Give us a chance. I won’t ever do that again.” A sound escapes me, part pain, part pleasure. “You feel it, right? This…this…bond between us?”
“Yeah, baby. I do. I can’t think of anything else, anyone else but you.”
She nods with a pleased smile, her eyes softening. “How long did you last at your basketball tryouts?”
“Three minutes.” I groan, dropping my head forward to rest against her chest. Her tits cushion my forehead.
“I wanna see if you can break your record, but my legs are burning, and your cock is hitting me in all the right places.” She dips her chin, her lips caressing the shell of my ear, “I’m so close. Stick your finger in my ass, Ezra. Stuff me full and make me cum for you.”
“Fucking fuck!” I roar, straining to remain upright and keep myself from cumming. I lift a hand from her hips and rest my fingers against her lips. I feel her grin before opening her mouth and sucking them in earnest. I want to feel that mouth around my cock. One day. Soon. But not now. I pull my fingers free, using my other hand to stretch her ass cheeks apart, I find her furled entrance and rub my spit covered fingers over it until it relents and lets me in.
Like I shocked her with an electric prod, two fingers in her ass, she goes wild. Fucking me with abandon, fusing her mouth to mine for sloppy frantic kisses, I feel her bring one hand between us and then she’s flicking her clit and soaring in my lap. Both channels squeeze me, choking my cock and cutting off circulation to my fingers. There’s no way to keep it at bay, like a dam breaking, I shoot off inside her. My legs give out, my feet stretching out in front of me, I sit on the ground, my back against the building, my woman purring in my lap.
“I’m almost afraid what will happen if we ever make it to a bed,” she whispers, burying her face in my neck and inhaling deeply. I laugh and wrap my arms around her back and rest my cheek against the top of her head.
“I’m sitting on an ant hill.”