“Willow, I want to ask you something.” He paused, turning to face me again, and held me in his gaze. “Will you let me kiss you?”
My lips parted in shock, and my heart practically stopped. “Yes, please,” I murmured. Now! I couldn’t wait a moment more.
On my next rapid heartbeat, he cupped my cheeks in his hands, leaned down, and crushed his soft, warm lips against mine. He nibbled my upper lip, then deepened the kiss, gnawing and sucking. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. I’d never been kissed like this before. A heat wave spread through my body, setting every cell in my body on fire. As a moan escaped my throat, his tongue parted my lips and found mine. They danced together, swirling and twirling, two strangers in the night discovering each other. The salty taste of the salmon lingered in his mouth and mixed with his sweet saliva, making him even more delicious. My fingers fisted his hair as our lips, tongues, and moans mingled. I had read about his kisses, but nothing had prepared me for the sensation of one. I thought I was leaving this planet.
He pulled out of my mouth slowly. I was gasping for air.
He inhaled and then blew out a loud breath. “You okay?”
I caught my breath. “Yeah. Except I’m famished.” I hadn’t eaten a thing all day.
“Do you want me to run downstairs and get you something?”
“I’m in the mood for something else.”
Ryan stared at me with a baffled expression on his face.
“Tell me what you want, and I’ll get it for you.”
Gosh, he was sweet. So, so different from…
“C’mon. Tell me.”
What I was hungering for was right in front of me. Ready to be consumed. My eyes traveled to the bulge between his thighs.
“Unzip your fly.”
I seriously don’t know what made me so bold. So unlike me. Gustave had dominated me. Choreographed every move. I inhaled a fortifying breath. Fuck Gustave. I banned him to the back of mind.
Meanwhile, Ryan’s eyes grew wide. The look on his face went from raw shock to raw want as he lowered the zipper.
A wry smile curved on his glistening lips. “So you want a hot dog I presume?”
“Yes, a big tasty one.”
“Mine?”
Speechless, I nodded. His innuendos were making me crazy wet. More ravenous than I already was.
Rather than pulling down his crisp cotton boxers, his cock shot through slit. It was my turn to go goo-goo eyed. Holy shit! It was divine! Long, pumped, and ready for consumption. He repositioned himself on the bed, so that he was kneeling and his member was aimed at me. I couldn’t wait to taste it.
Lowering my head, I began with tip. First little, fluttery licks to savor the flavor. A delicious blend of sweet and salty. He hissed, and then under his breath mumbled, “Jesus.”
Without wasting a second, I wrapped my lips, like a warm moist bun, around his thick, hard length and then took him in, inch after glorious inch. He groaned with pleasure as his penis expanded in my mouth, filling the hallows of my cheeks. My eyes squeezed shut, I came up and then hungrily went down on him again. He let out another groan, this one louder. I wrapped my fingers around the wide base, squeezing it and working it up and down with short quick strokes. My mouth picked up its pace, applying deeper pressure as it slid up and down, gorging on the hot, thick slab of flesh. His breathing grew haggard.
“Don’t stop,” he murmured. “So fucking good.”
Coming up for air, I caught sight of the ecstasy etched on his face. My wide-parted lips took him right back in. Oh God, he tasted delicious!
My mouth glided back down, and as it came up, he began to spasm in my mouth.
“Fuck. I’m going to come,” he rasped as I sucked his magnificent crown. Another loud groan filled my ears and then his release filled my mouth, spilling onto my lips. Swallowing, I gazed up into his eyes—two shiny half-moons that glittered on his dazed but glorious face.
Before either of us could say a word, heavy footsteps thudded in the near distance. For sure my father. Reality hit us fast and hard. I hastily moved away from Ryan and tidied my mane of hair. He, in turn, tucked his still swollen cock back into his jeans and zipped up his fly. Before standing up, he cursed under his breath and wiped my cum-coated lips with the back of his hand.
Pop lumbered into my room. I held my breath, wondering if he would suspect what had just gone down between me and Ryan.
Huffing, he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. Sheesh! Going up a flight of stairs undid him. He so needed to lose weight and get into shape.
“They ate me out of house and home,” he panted, undoing his long, soiled apron.
I digested his words. That meant the grand break-fast was over, and my father had closed up. I glanced at my alarm clock—nine o’clock. Usually, he stayed open till midnight, but Yom Kippur was one of the few exceptions.
“How’s she doing, Ryan?” he asked.
I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. He obviously had no clue of what had transpired because my father was brutally honest, not one to hold back.
“I’d say she’s completely recovered.” A sheepish smile curled on Ryan’s luscious lips.
“She looks flushed. Pumpkin, let me check your temperature.”
“Really, Pop, I’m perfectly fine.” I leaped out of bed and hugged him. My over-protective father.
“Did you at least eat something?” There was genuine concern in his voice as he shot Ryan a troubled look. “Sometimes my little girl doesn’t eat enough.”
“Don’t worry. I did,” I countered.
“I watched her eat,” chimed in Ryan.
And at that moment, I realized I had broken this year’s fast with a heaping portion of Ryan Madewell’s cock.
Suddenly, all of Ryan’s color drained from his face. He fidgeted with the gold band around his ring finger, and then without even saying goodnight, he bolted out of my room.
CHAPTER 6
Ryan
Jesus! What had I just done? I’d impulsively kissed Willow Rosenthal. And couldn’t get enough of her. I’d forgotten what it’s like to kiss a woman you find insanely attractive in every which way. It was rough and raw, hot and addictive, and it totally turned me on. Then, I let her give me a blowjob. Not just any blowjob. It was mind-blowing. My dick had gone to heaven and come back.
Yeah, I had masturbated a lot over the past several years, but I’d forgotten how good it felt to get head. My delicate deli girl was amazing. Fucking amazing. But my ecstasy was short-lived. An ambush of guilt and remorse snuck up on me. In a panic, I split, without thanking her or her father, leaving them both in a sea of confusion.
My cock throbbing and my emotions in a turmoil, I jogged home trying to make sense of my actions. I’d more than liked them. Admitting this should have been liberating, but instead I felt sick to my stomach. As if someone had given me a punch to my gut.
As I slogged out the elevator that opened to my loft, a massive dose of guilt surged inside me. Fuck. There was Allee. Curled up on the couch as usual, this time wearing only one of my crisp cotton dress shirts. The top buttons were opened, exposing her eye-worthy cleavage. Once upon a time, I had placed my cock in that beautiful space and let her rub her breasts against the shaft till I came all over them.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, hanging my head in shame.
“About what, Golden Boy?”
I slowly raised my head and met her gaze. After the awful discovery of her sordid “other” life and later the cancer that had claimed her life, we’d vowed not to keep secrets from each other. Even if I tried to keep a secret, she would eventually pry it out of me. Sooner than later.
“I kind of had a date with a girl.” Each word was a struggle.
Her reaction shocked me. A big smile spread across her luminous face. “It’s about time, Madewell. You know you can’t mourn me forever.”
Allee’s farewell letter flashed into my head. She had told me that she wanted me to meet someone new after she was gone. I didn’t r
eally believe her words when I first read them, but maybe she really meant them.
“So, what’s her name?”
“Willow.”
“Pretty. And two L’s… a good sign.” Allee had a thing for double “L’s.” She believed that Superman, her childhood superhero crush, had a thing for girls with double L’s in their names. Like Lois Lane and Lana Lang. She had once called me her Superman though sadly I could not save her in the end.
“So, tell me, what does she look like?”
I described Willow in detail.
“So, a lanky redhead. That’s a surprise. What’s she like?”
I went on to tell her that she was the daughter of the deli guy we always ordered take out from. And then I explained how we met and told her about my Yom Kippur outing, not going beyond the synagogue part.
“So, she’s Jewish?”
“Yeah, from the Lower Eastside.”
“Oooh… your parents are really going to like her.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm…so very Allee.
“They’re getting better.” Seriously, they were. With the help of Dr. Goodman, I was slowly making amends with my father. Last year’s major stroke—it happened while he was fucking one of his mistresses—had changed him. Partially paralyzed, he was now wheelchair bound, slightly more open-minded, and he was keeping his pants on. My mother, who should have left him, nursed him back to health, the good trophy wife she was. He was beholden to her though he’d never admit it and now disabled, he needed her more than ever. His dependency on her gave her power. Though the marriage was still strained by most standards, his forced newfound faithfulness had saved it. And my mother was drinking less. Okay. A little less.
Allee rolled her eyes while I dwelled on her snippy comment. What made her so sure I was going to introduce Willow to my parents? What kind of mind game was she playing with me? Before I could challenge her, she asked me another question.
“So, what exactly did you do with Willow on your date?”
My stomach twisted; it was more what she did with me. I don’t know what made me do it, but I blurted out the words.
“Allee, I kissed her and then let her give me a blowjob.” Suddenly, I was feeling miserable again, consumed by a horrific sense of betrayal. How could I have let her do those things? I hardly knew her, and besides my heart belonged to another. When I thought about it more, it was my fault. I should have never kissed her, but I couldn’t help myself. Guilt mixed with remorse.
To my shock, Allee gave me a thumbs up. Her dark eyes twinkled as she smiled brightly. “Congratulations, Madewell!”
Actually, I was more than shocked. Her reaction hurt me. I mean, here was the woman I had loved—and still loved—with my body, heart, and soul. My wife, my lover, my light…the person for whom I would have given up my life…and she wasn’t even jealous. In fact, she looked like she might do a happy dance. Christ. Allee was feisty. A fighter. And she wasn’t even fighting for me. Not one bit. Fuck her!
Miffed, I muttered, “I’m going upstairs. Are you ready?” On most nights, I mentally swept her off her feet and carried her up to my bedroom.
“Not tonight, Madewell.”
“Fine.”
Hey, Madewell, you gotta remember…” Her voice grew softer, the expression on her face more wistful. “I can’t do those kinda things with you any more.” She paused. “Give Willow a chance.”
She had a point. It was no different from what Dr. Goodman or Duffy had told me. I was having difficulty letting go.
By the time I hit the sack, the throbbing between my legs had died down. I was exhausted but restless. I rubbed my eyes, tossed and turned, and kicked off the covers several times. Each time I managed to doze off, I would awaken, searching frantically for Allee by my side, her lovely limbs draped over mine. True to her vow, she never came upstairs.
Finally, God knows when, I drifted off. A dream claimed me.
I was in Paris strolling aimlessly through the Musée D’Orsay. Behind me, I heard footsteps. Those of a woman wearing heels.
“Can I help you?”
I recognized the husky, New York-accented voice immediately. Allee!
Spinning around, I gasped. She looked as stunning as I remembered her. In fact, more stunning, wearing that little black dress I’d bought her.
“What are you doing here?” I breathed out.
“I work here now.”
“No, you can’t! You belong in New York with me.”
“No, Madewell, I don’t. I belong here now.” She smiled. “I want to show you a wonderful new painting.”
Reluctant and confused, I followed her to an adjacent wing. The paintings were more contemporary. Like they could have been painted only yesterday.
“Look at this masterpiece,” she said, leading me to an exquisite large erotic canvas of a man and woman making love.
My heart leaped into my throat. I recognized the setting. The bedroom. It was mine. But the bed was different as was the woman who had her legs wrapped around me. Only her backside exposed, her long red hair cascaded down to her waist.
“Observe the impassioned expression on his face,” my analytic Allee said. “The energy in his motions.”
I stared at the painting, my cock hardening as I did.
“Now, step into the painting. Experience it. Feel what the subject is feeling.”
“What?” I murmured, mesmerized by the painting and the erotic high it was giving me.
Allee folded her arms across her chest. Her bossy stance. “Do it, Madewell. Do it for me. I’ll be watching.”
Mentally, as if in a trance, I did as she asked. Jesus. This lithe redheaded girl, sitting on my lap, felt incredible, her lightness of being contrasting with the strength of her thighs straddling mine. My cock fit perfectly into her sweet, tight pussy, and as I pumped her, she took me to the hilt, bucking me in perfect harmony, meeting every thrust. I clenched her slender hips while she gripped my shoulders and rode me with a skillful blend of grace and precision. Arching her back, the rosebud nipples of her pert tits brushed against my chest while the tips of her flaming hair skimmed my thighs. Ecstasy washed over her exquisite face as little moans, like musical notes, spilled from her lips. As I picked up my pace, the moans crescendoed as we came apart.
“Say my name!” she begged, her muscles shuddering around my cock.
“Willow!” I cried out, so ready to come. My release met hers as Allee looked on, a contented smile spread across her face.
Suddenly, with Willow’s name still burning on my lips, an alarm rung in my ears. I recognized it. My cell phone. My eyes snapped open, and in a cold sweat, I bolted to a sitting position. Grabbing the phone off my nightstand, I speed-dialed Dr. Goodman’s emergency number. The one that was reserved for suicides, overdoses, and murder attempts. In my book, this was an emergency. I couldn’t breathe, think, or function.
CHAPTER 7
Ryan
I was fucking lucky Dr. Goodman had a last minute cancellation at 11:00 a.m. on Monday. We usually met on Thursday, but I couldn’t wait that long. Reclining in his couch, I felt my heart palpitating and my stomach cramping. That’s how fucked up I was.
“So, Ryan, tell me what’s going on?” asked Dr. Goodman.
“That girl I told you about…”
“Yes…”
I hesitated and then the words tumbled out. “I let her give me a blowjob.” I fidgeted with my ring. “And I more than enjoyed it.”
“This is certainly no emergency. What’s wrong with that?”
“Everything. I belong to Allee.”
Dr. Goodman stroked his salt and pepper beard. “Allee is gone, Ryan. It’s been almost five years.”
“Only four and a half,” I corrected. “I fantasize about her every night.”
“That’s not uncommon. What do you fantasize about?”
“That she’s still in my life. That things are like they used to be. She’s always waiting for me when I come home.” I paused. “Last night, after the blowjob
, I came home and I saw her. I told her about the other girl. What I did. I swear, she was happy for me. I don’t get it.”
Dr. Goodman adjusted his horn-rim glasses. “Ryan, Allee only exists in your subconscious. Last night, your subconscious was telling you that it wants you to let go of Allee. That it’s okay.”
I went on and told him about my dream.
“That’s a very interesting dream, Ryan. What do you think it means?”
“That I’m fucked up.”
Dr. Goodman chortled. “You’re not as fucked up as you think, Ryan. What this tells me is that two women can co-exist in your life. That you’re ready for a new relationship.”
I processed what the Doc just said. Was I really ready to move on?
Dr. Goodman cut my mental ramblings short. “Ryan, you like this new woman, right?”
I nodded. I had to admit that there were many things I liked about Willow even though I didn’t know much about her. She seemed smart, funny, and I found her attractive… make that sexy as sin.
“This is excellent. You have feelings toward her.”
Okay, so he forced me to admit I had some feelings about her…something I’d not had toward a woman—or just about anything—in a long while.
“So, Doc, what should I do?”
“Get to know her better.”
“O…kay.” That I could do. “Then what?”
“Sleep with her.”
Sleep. With. Her. The three words spun around in my head, colliding into each other like bumper cars. She may have slept with me in my dreams, but the reality of having her in my bed—the bed I’d shared with Allee—stabbed me in the heart. It was unfathomable.
“That’s not possible.”
“Why not?”
I fumbled for an excuse. “She lives with her father. I don’t think it would be too cool to bang her while he’s sleeping in the bedroom next door.”
“I agree. That’s not a good idea. But you have your own place and a bed.”
My blood heated as I bolted upright. “There’s no way I can fuck her in my bed! That bed’s sacred. It was my wedding present to Allee.”
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