A Weekend in Queens … with Enid

The wedding invitation came out of the blue. I nailed it to the wall with a tack.

The pleasure of your company is requested at the celebration of the wedding of Erin Marie Regan and Barry David Edelstein …

She was going by her maiden name. I wondered what happened to whatsis-name. The mysterious hubby No. 1, the guy she married six months after she told me that marriage would strangle her creativity and sidetrack her career. That was 13 years ago.

Since then there had been other breakups. A mirthless chuckle escaped me when I noted the coincidental arrival of Erin’s invitation just four months after the disintegration of my last relationship—with Janie. She had been after me to propose for so long, I finally obliged her. Then, didn’t she turn on a dime? She said she didn’t think she could handle a life-long commitment. She moved out, and I’d been operating on automatic pilot since. I wasn’t sad or even sore, you understand. Just empty, no feelings at all. Hollowed out.

That’s probably why I didn’t toss Erin’s invitation in the trash, it just didn’t affect me. Oh, there was some mild curiosity. Why the hell was she inviting me? She sure as hell didn’t invite me to her first one. But the answer wasn’t hard to guess Enid.

Since college Enid had become the unofficial chronicler of the old gang. She kept in touch with everyone with her twice yearly newsletter. I wondered if the girl had any kind of life of her own, but then in college she was your classic sidekick, always there with advice or a sounding board for our rants. She kept track of everyone’s love life, our own little yenta. I doubt any of us would have bothered to keep in touch if it weren’t for Enid. The fact is we didn’t; she kept in touch for us.

I can’t remember her ever having a single date at school. I don’t count the jarhead ROTC cadet who asked her to attend his consistory, whatever the hell that was. What a Roger Wilco.

Enid must have nagged Erin to invite the gang, make it a reunion. If she invited the others, then she’d have to invite me.

Don’t ask me why I answered. Yeah, I’d be there. Maybe it was because I wanted to jumpstart my emotions, to start to feel again—confront the girl who broke my heart the first time. Or maybe I just wanted to pull a curtain over the last act, put my college years and disappointments behind me at last, and this was an opportunity.

Nice to have known you, guys. But we really don’t have anything in common anymore. Good luck, and don’t bother writing.

Yeah, and no more newsletters from Enid.

On Saturday I hopped the shuttle to LaGuardia and registered at some cinder-block motel near the airport. The cab got me to the synagogue just in time to hear the groom crush the glass.

The place was cavernous, but filled. How many hundreds of the backs of people’s heads greeted me I couldn’t count. There was thunderous applause and down the aisle a swirl of white wedding gown as the bride and groom began their exit.

I backed into a corner and felt a feathery tap on my shoulder.

“Hey, goy guy, where’s your yarmulke?”

I turned and almost knocked Enid into the wall.

“Hey, you never used to be rough with girls.”

“Ooops, sorry, well you shouldn’t sneak up on taller people like that.”

“Everyone’s taller than me.”

Enid’s toothy smile instantly brought back a lot of memories, and the funny thing was, they were mostly good ones. I remembered then how much I really liked her back at school, despite her grating New York accent and her dedicated busybodyness. She hadn’t changed much. She had the same hairdo, if you could call it that. Reddish brown hair cut short and scruffy, pale complexion and a smattering of faded freckles, the glasses that constantly slipped down her nose. And how did a Jewish girl come to have such a prominent Irish overbite? She gave me a hug and I returned her embrace.

She used to say the one thing she could be proud of was her petite dress size, but the truth was, anything Enid put on tended to look like it was wearing her. She was so thin. The green print dress hung loosely off her pale, bony shoulder. I thought her hips were wider, though; maybe she’d filled out a bit after all.

“I’m so glad you came,” she said. “Marty and Angela are here too, but Jeff and Marcus, well, they’re MIA.”

“They were always MIA, even when they were around.”

“Yeah, well I was hoping for a full reunion, but …”

“I need a ride to the reception,” I said.

“Come with me, you wanna be my date?”

So, she was still flying solo. “Yeah, well, I’m unattached.”

“Good, attach yourself to me.” She took my arm and we negotiated our way through the crowd to her Corolla that may have been either orange or red at one time.

The car wheezed to life and then we were playing dodge ’em on the BQE.

“So, whacha been doing?” she asked.


“Wow, exciting.”

“How about you? Take any cruises lately?”

“No, not since Mom died.”

“Yeah, I was sorry to hear about that. I wish you’d let me know when it happened, I’d have come down.”

She shrugged. “I was kind of crazy then, putting up with the family, and trying to figure out how I was going to pay for things.”

“I liked her, she could really cook.”

Enid grinned, but she dabbed a finger under one eye.

We pulled up in front of a place that looked like a mall multiplex and went inside. Multiple wedding receptions were going on, all loud, each one rumbling in a different language.

We were funneled into the reception line and made our way toward the happy couple at a glacial pace.

Finally, the old folks ahead of us paid their respects. Erin looked me in the eye and greeted me with a cool, controlled smile and an outstretched hand. There would be no kissing the bride, which was fine by me.

Enid gushed, “Gawd, you two look so gorgeous.”

“Hello, Enid,” the groom said. “Does my little cousin have an escort for a change?”

The grin faded momentarily from Enid’s face. I reached out my hand to Mr. Smooth, as Erin made the introductions.

“Barry, this is Declan …”

“Dacey,” I insisted. “Everyone calls me Dacey.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” he said. “So, let me guess, you are old friends with my cousin Enid and …”

“Erin … the best of friends.”

He gave her a look that said we’ll talk later and shook my hand.

Enid and I moved along quickly after that and found our table. It was near the door where the caterers were going in and out.

“Nice spot,” I said. “So, Erin married your cousin?”

“Yeah, can you believe it? Met him in Manhattan all by herself, small world ain’t it? Barry’s a lawyer, an ex-ADA in Brooklyn, but he’s going to work for a big firm on the island. I’m the poor cousin, if you know what I mean.”

“Uh-huh. Whatever happened to …?”


“Was that his name?”

“Divorced. He kinda got himself a coke habit. He made himself a pest though, and Erin had to get a restraining order, but then he got himself hit by a truck or something out in Las Vegas. So, I guess she’s still officially a divorcee, but Barry’s mom tells everyone she’s a widow.”

A couple approached our table. The guy was only vaguely familiar, but the woman I recognized right away. It was Angela, who used to extol the virtues of a Catholic girls school education, but fucked anything that moved at college. So the guy had to be Marty. They’d married right out of school when Angela got pregnant. I wonder if he ever doubted it was his.

For the moment, he didn’t look like he was moving so well.

“Hey!” Angela greeted us, bending down to give me a wet kiss on the mouth. Her dress was just about open to her belly button and her tits jostled below my eyes. Marty waved and sat stiffly.

“So, what have you two been up to?” I asked as if I cared. It was a mistake. Marty launched into a litany of ills that afflicted him ranging from gout to a swollen prostate. Angela looked away and rolled her eyes. Her legs crossed at the knee, she bounced one foot impatiently. An ankle charm caught my eye, and she deliberately held it still so I could read it I fuck around.

“And so,” Marty droned, “Thursday I gotta go in for a high colonic enema before they give me the test …”

“Yeah, sorry to hear that, Marty,” I said, hoping to punctuate his tale with a period.

“Dance with me,” Angela said, and it wasn’t a request.

We maneuvered between a few elderly couples. Angela pressed against me. “Hmmm, you feel good. You look good too.”

“Thanks, looks like you’re keeping fit.”

“I work out a lot,” she said.

“It shows.”

“In bed.”

“Excuse me?”

“I swing.”

A thin-lipped smile curved across her face.

“Really,” I said.

“Marty hasn’t been able to perform for a while, because of the prostate, so it’s cool with him.”


“He let’s me play.”


“He’s leaving early, probably right after dinner. We could catch up on old memories, and maybe make some new ones.”

I twirled her around and she leaned into me. That hollow feeling was beginning to assert itself again.

“Thanks, Angie, but I wouldn’t feel right.”

“I said it’s cool with Marty, so long as I tell him all about it.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve been friends for so long, gee; it would be like fucking my own sister.”

Her smile turned into a tight frown. “C’mon, it isn’t like you’re going to spend the day with Enid.” She chuckled, a dry dismissive laugh.

“What’s the matter with Enid?”

“Please, I like her, but she wouldn’t have a life if it weren’t for ours.”

The music stopped and I followed her back to the table. Dinner was served and the conversation was sparse, despite Enid’s attempts to spark some reminiscing. Marty stood right in the middle of one of Enid’s stories.

“Gotta go … then I gotta go. Nice seeing you again.”

“Well,” Angela said and stood herself. “I think I’ll mingle. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

I looked at Enid. Her shoulders slowly drooped like someone was letting the air out of her.

“Well, that went well. So much for reunions. Am I the only one who cared about it at all?”

I leaned over and nudged her shoulder with my chin. “Hey, green eyes, people separate, then they grow apart. College was then, and this is now, and there are a lot of years in between. Tell you the truth; I’d just as soon put them behind me.”

“I thought we’d be friends forever,” she said.

A nasal whine nurtured on Long Island pierced the background noise. “Enid, gawd, always hiding in the corner.”

“Oh, shit,” Enid hissed. “My cousin Leah.”

The woman tottered toward us weighed down by jewelry and hobbled by high heels that belied any hint of grace. Her hair was salon blond and stiff.

“We used to play together when we were kids,” Enid explained, “before her dad got rich. She’s been entirely rebuilt. Must have spent a fortune on plastic surgery. Her own mother doesn’t recognize her.”

Cousin Leah grinned through perfect teeth. “Still single? I thought after your mother died you would finally find someone. Kinda hard when your mother’s around, like don’t I know it … I mean, all those cruises.”

“I liked going on cruises with Mom.”

“Oh, sure, sweety, God rest her soul, but a girl’s gotta circulate.”

Then her eyes fell on me. “Well, I guess you’re not doing too badly at that. Aren’t you going introduce me to your friend?”

Enid started to say, “This is …”

“Her supplicant, her abject, worshipful slave,” I said. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Enid’s sidelong glance and her jaw drop. Leah’s face froze in a bemused smile.

“If only I can please my mistress, perhaps she’ll reward me by allowing me to kiss her feet.”

I turned toward Enid and dropped to one knee. “Please, my queen, my goddess, allow me to adore you.”


“Oh, thank you.” I lifted her foot and slipped her shoe off. I touched my lips just above her toes, then I suckled her baby toe. A wispy gasp escaped Enid’s lips. I guessed she was playing along.

I replaced her shoe and then sat, effecting a beatific smile.

“Oooo-kay. Well, nice talking to you, Enid.” Leah tottered away as quickly as she could in those heels. But her voice continued to cut through the cacophony of the hall.

She was speaking to an older woman, whose voice was as grating as hers. The woman replied, “Oh, my gawd, it’s always the quiet ones.”

Enid laughed out loud. “You stinker! It’ll be all over that I’m keeping a boy toy.”

I grinned.

“You stinker,” she repeated, and her face lit up with that grin that would make an orthodontist cringe.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to play along, but you still got the timing. Like the time in Philly when we pretended to be mute Russian refugees and got a free meal at the mission.”

“Oh, gawd! I’d forgotten. That was so awful.”

“Yeah, Erin gave me so much shit about that.” All of a sudden, I didn’t like being there.

“You want to get out of here?” I asked. She nodded, and I guided her toward the exit. We didn’t bother saying goodbye to the happy couple, who were pushing wedding cake into each other’s faces.

We were back in Enid’s Corolla, and after a couple of false starts we were tooling along the BQE.

“Where do you want to go?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Any ideas?”

She shrugged. “My mom’s cemetery is off this exit.”

“Let’s visit. I never got to pay my respects.”

Enid took a right and we followed a street lined by small brick homes with white-painted wrought iron fences. A chain link fence on the left enclosed a small cemetery with headstones spaced like the houses, nearly on top of each other.

We pulled in and I followed Enid to a stone that was much smaller than its neighbors. I read the inscription In Loving Memory of Tovah Taitleman. Below that in big capital letters MOM.

“Yeah,” I said. “She sure could cook. I remember when she brought all that food to the dorm. We ate off it for days. Haven’t eaten a knish as good since.”

I stooped and picked up a small rock, then I placed it on the headstone. Behind me I heard the sniffle, then the sob. I turned and tears were trickling over Enid’s cheeks.

I reached out to her and pulled her into my arms, letting her cry into my chest, and realizing she was filling the void that had existed there too long. When she settled down I guided her back to the car, but I didn’t let go.

“I liked it,” she whispered.


“I liked it when you sucked on my toe. Jesus, Dace, I think I wet my pants.”



“I want to nibble your thighs.”

She wobbled. “Huh?”

“Is that okay?”

“Yes,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

“I’m staying at a fleabag Motel 8 by LaGuardia.”

“My house is closer.”

“Okay, let’s go there.”

* * *

Enid lived on a tree-lined street on the edge of Sunnyside in a two-story brick house with the requisite wrought iron embellishments and ivy. She fumbled with her keys at the door, and dropped them twice.

“Hello, Enid! Look at you all dressed up.” It was a short, squat woman, with solid Slavic features and an accent to match.

Enid dropped her keys again. “Hi, Mrs. Cholaky, yeah, just coming home from a wedding.” She jammed the key into the lock.

“So, you come home with a friend, eh?”

“Uh, yeah.” Enid opened the door and pushed me inside.

“Sorry,” she said. “She’s so nosy.”

Enid tossed her purse on a marble mantel. I looked around. It was cozy and small, and seemed overly furnished. Or maybe it was the closeness of the place that made it seem that way.

“I didn’t really get a chance to tidy up, I …”

“I didn’t come here to see the house, Enid.”

“Yeah, well …”

“You got a bed around here?”

She gulped.

“Enid? If you don’t …”

“No-no-no, I’m okay … I think. It’s just …”


“I can’t believe we’re … you know.”

Yeah, I knew all right. There was a sense of unreality about where I was, who I was with, and what I wanted to do with her. “Bedroom?”

She answered as if she’d run out of breath. “Upstairs.”

I stepped toward her and cupped her head in my hands. Then I kissed her, softly at first, then with more pressure. My hands fell to below her shoulders and I let gravity take them to her hips. I was enjoying a delicious buzz—the kind you get when you’ve been kissed the first time.

I drew away. Enid’s eyes were closed. Her glasses slipped down her nose.

I guided her to the stairs and from there I followed her. We came to a small tight, hallway. A bathroom was at one end, another room at the other. Enid took my hand and pulled me along.

The bed wasn’t made and the floor was strewn with articles of clothing, all evidence of her rituals getting dressed that morning.

“Gawd, I’m not such a slob, I just …”



“How do you take that dress off?”

“Well, there’s this little tie, and two buttons and then you tug the little …”

I reached down and grasped the hem, then lifted it up and over her head. Enid’s glasses tumbled off, but I caught them. I tossed the dress over a chair. Enid stood trembling in a pale green bra and matching panties. She stepped back and out of her flat white shoes. Her eyes were wide, as if she were staring at something in the distance. I slipped her glasses back on.

“Oh, gawd,” she whispered.

I reached around and undid the clasp of her bra. The sudden release of tension caused it to pop off her shoulders. Her arms came up to fold across her breasts, which were no more than little mounds of flesh. I pushed her arms aside and smiled at how her small pink nipples tightened.

“Oh … gawd,” she said again, louder, but more hoarsely.

I stepped toward her; she stepped back until her calves butted against the bed, then I gave her the slightest push and she fell back. Her arms spread eagle, but she brought them across her chest again; I kneeled, hooked my fingers around the waistband of her panties and pulled them down her legs.

“Ohhh, Jesus.” One hand left her breast and shielded a wispy patch of dark hairs above her pussy.

She was so pale, but a blush of red moved across her stomach.

“Why are you covering yourself?”



“The last guy who saw me naked said I looked ….”


“That I looked like a … boiled chicken.”

“Was he on crack?”

Enid giggled at that, but it was a tense giggle. “Noooo, but that’s what he said … a chicken.”

“Nah, you just look like a chick. C’mon, let me see you.”

She hesitated, then raised her hands above her head and closed her eyes. The flush of red spread over her chest, which rose and fell in ever quicker intervals. Her hips were indeed wider in the flesh than they appeared with her clothes on. Her legs were thin … no, they were slender, and nicely shaped, her thighs fleshy and firm.

“Enid, I think I’m going to devour your thighs now.”

“Suck my toes first … okay?”


“Like you did …”

“That really turned you on?”

She nodded.

“Okay … I’ll start with your toes.”

“I lifted one foot and kissed it, then one by one I suckled each of her toes starting with the littlest. Enid was singing the letter O. She was making an aria of it. I finished by kissing her ankle, then performed the same ritual with her other foot.

I made my way up each calf then, kissing, and nipping her gently when I could get enough flesh between my teeth. I licked behind her knees, and she squirmed her behind into the mattress.

I was in a zone I hadn’t visited in so long. The rush that comes with pleasuring a woman, feeling and hearing her respond, surfing on the buzz of energy that flowed between us.

Her thighs were delicious as I sampled morsels one nip at a time, up one and down the other, then back again. A bubble of aroma and humidity bloomed from her pussy. A little stain of wetness grew on the sheet. Enid was responding with little squeaks and whimpers.

I pulled off my shirt, yanked my belt buckle open and fumbled with my fly; finally I pushed my trousers down my legs and kicked them away. I pushed myself up, holding my arms rigid, surveying the woman whose body moved almost imperceptibly, but couldn’t keep still. I leaned forward until I settled with my face a hair’s breadth from her pussy lips that were puffy and coated in a slow-flowing syrup. I grazed them with my chin and Enid began to sing the letters I and E in combination, a new composition.

I breathed in the moist bouquet and let my lips graze her vulva.

“Oh, gawd! Are you going to …?”

My tongue slid along her slit and Enid began to sing all the vowels. I only feigned an assault on her clit that was swelling beneath its hood. Then her hips rocked, and I felt her hand on the back of my head tugging gently, but insistently. My tongue swirled over the bud once, twice. On the third swipe Enid sang the love cry of the banshees.

My cock was aching. I raised myself and separated her thighs, my swelling cockhead poised at the swamp her pussy had become.

“I’m going to fuck you, Enid. Do you understand?”

Enid’s eyes glazed. Her glasses were askew and dangling off one cheek. I lifted them off her and let them fall into a pile of garments on the floor.

“I can’t stop now, Enid. I want to fuck you so much; I’m going to fuck you so good.”

Enid’s only response was to pant and ball the bedclothes into her fists. I plunged past the gate of her pussy in one strong thrust, withdrew and thrust again, trying to push myself as deeply as I could into her, swiveling my hips, trying to drill myself under her belly. My cock thumped against the walls of her cunt. I reached back and slipped my arms under her thighs, lifting them higher so I could plunge deeper. I was saturated in sensations, the slickness of the course my cock traveled as it pistoned her cunt, the squish her pussy made with each intrusion, the sound of my balls slapping the reverse apex of her thighs and ass.

Enid’s cries became a mantra, “O-god-o-god-o-god …”

Words, in disjointed strings but with a context all their own poured from my lips. “Damn … Christ … fuck … fuck … you little fuck, fucking fuck …”

Enid’s cunt contracted and a tremor presaged a long piercing shriek. I tried to control the roiling at the base of my cock. I wanted to enjoy her orgasm.

Her body relaxed, then a moment later she shuddered—an aftershock. There was no holding back then, I launched my fluids, the flow was wonderfully excruciating. A few more spasms and I had emptied myself inside her.

I lifted myself off her and looked down at a woman familiar but forever changed to me. A sheen of perspiration glistened on her skin, and a trickle had pooled in her belly button. Her chest heaved, and then slowed until her breaths became just wisps. I slid beside her and she spooned against me. I nodded off while kissing her shoulder.

* * *

I bolted up, my eyes straining to penetrate the dark. Enid stood at the foot of the bed, her eyes wide, and her lips in a perfect O. Again she had crossed one arm over her breasts, and shielded her pussy with a hand.

“What?” she said.

“Oh … nothing … I just didn’t know where I was for a second.”

“You look like you woke up from a bad dream … did you?” Her voice trailed off, like a little girl expecting her heart to be broken.

“Why are you covering yourself again?”

“I dunno … I guess … the few guys who’ve seen me naked wished they hadn’t.”

“Let me see.”

Her arms fell to her sides and my eyes surveyed her slight, petite body, pale enough in the dark to make out every nuance.

“Gawd, you make me feel so naked,” she said.

“Good naked, or bad naked?”

“Oh, good naked … really good naked, but uncomfortable naked too.”

“Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I had to pee.”

I pulled the sheet aside and she tiptoed around the bed and slid in beside me like she was afraid the neighborhood was listening.

“Where are my glasses?” she asked as she nuzzled against me.

“On the floor—my side.”

“I’m blind without them.”

I reached over and picked them up, then placed them on the night table.

“There, all safe.”

She nestled her head onto my shoulder and laid a leg over mine. “I can’t believe this.”

“Believe what?”

“You and me. I never thought … I mean … things like this don’t happen to me. Guys don’t take me to bed, especially not …”


She shrugged. “You’re my friend, Dace.”

“I guess friends aren’t supposed to sleep together?”

“C’mon, Dace, you know what I mean … Don’t you?”

“I guess … yeah. But, let’s not deal with that now, okay? It’s a long weekend; I don’t have to go back until Monday. Let’s just … have fun.”

“Fine by me but …”


“It’s kinda scary, isn’t it?”


“Like, it isn’t real … like I’m gonna wake up and it’ll be a weird wonderful dream, and I’ll wake up with my sheets soaking wet and …”

“This is real, Enid. I need it to be real.”

She quieted and traced her finger over my chest. “I thought you and Erin were the perfect couple,” she said.

“History … all history.”

“I couldn’t believe her when she let you go. I didn’t realize what an asshole she was.”

I started to laugh and her head bounced on my chest.

“Well, she was. Then she married that loser.”

“Now she’s married to your cousin.”

“He’s an asshole too. They’ll probably raise a house full of little assholes.”

“Stop it, you’re killing me.”

“Well, it’s true,” she giggled.

“You’re bad, Enid. You’re a bad girl.”

“Yes … yes I am. I’m a bad girl,” she laughed. “Enid Taitleman is a bad, bad girl.”

I slid her onto her back and snatched one of her nipples between my lips.

“A really bad girl, Enid? Are you a dirty girl, too?”

Her stomach fluttered. “Huh!”

I trailed wet kisses along her shoulder, up her neck and nibbled her earlobe. “A dirty, slutty, bad girl.”

“Oh, Jesus,” she sighed.

I cupped her pussy and stroked her bud with my finger. She brought her thighs together then separated them, then clapped them together again. Her tongue peeked between parted lips and licked them.

“Look at you all naked … naked, Enid, cause you’re a dirty little girl, aren’t you?”

“Dirty … girl … Ohhh!”

Her cunt was a fountain and my cock was rigid. Then we were fucking, perfectly synchronized. Her ankles clasped around the small of my back and I increased the pace of my thrusts. We were a perfect, pure fucking machine. She was singing vowels again, building to a crescendo. Then she began flailing her arms. One forearm caught me in the temple and damned near cleaned my clock. I was momentarily dazed, then I grabbed her arms and pinned them. I pumped her with a vengeance then. Enid’s shriek could have shattered crystal. My cock sprayed her insides.

We rolled together, soaked in sweat.

“God,” I gasped. “You’re a dangerous fuck, Enid.”

When her breathing slowed, her face brightened into a grin. She lay looking up at the ceiling and said in a husky whisper, “Enid Taitleman is a slut.” She giggled, nuzzled her head into my shoulder and fell asleep.

* * *

I woke alone and sat up, rubbed my eyes and let the fog clear from my head. Down the hall I heard a toilet flush. I got up and stumbled into the hall. The bathroom door was partially open and I could see Enid, still naked, moving past. Water was running.

I knocked and peeked in. “Hi.”

She turned and smiled. She didn’t try to hide herself. “Hi, I was just about to take a shower.”

“Great idea.” I pulled the curtain back, took her hand and held it as she stepped into the tub. I followed.


She took a bottle of green liquid soap and pumped some into her hand. Then she smeared it across my chest. I took the bottle and pumped a palmful, then reached behind her, smearing my hand over her shoulders and down her back. I squeezed her bum cheeks and she closed her arms around me. It didn’t take long to get ourselves into a lather.

We kissed as we rinsed. I spotted a small bottle of shampoo and squeezed some on her scalp, then let my fingers work up a lather crown. Enid supported herself with her hands on my chest. I leaned her back under the water as the crown dissolved in sudsy streaks over her shoulders.

All rinsed again, she rested her cheek against my chest. She said something, a wispy whisper, like a prayer. I couldn’t make out what she said with the water splashing. I decided not to ask.

“This is nice,” I said. Then I felt her hand close on my cock.

“Gawd, this thing is dangerous. What’re you trying to do? Poke a hole in the wall?”

“Look what you do to me,” I said—a mock admonishment.

“I do that? Really?”

“Yup, and now you’re responsible for it, what are you going to do about it?”

She held me in both hands, letting her fingers glide over my length, testing the texture of my cockhead. “I can feel it get harder,” she said. “I’m doing that?”

“You damned sure are. Are you going to keep torturing me, or what?”

“I—I want to …”

“Yes—yes …”

“I tried to blow a guy once, but he said my teeth hurt him. I didn’t bite him; he just said … I had too many teeth.”

“Where the hell do you meet these guys? Haven’t you ever sucked on a popsicle?”


“Okay, just like a popsicle, except the tip is more like an ice cream cone, okay?”


“Please, Enid, I’m dying here.”

She grinned and fell to her knees. Holding my cock she swirled her tongue over the head and from that point I was just floating in space. She took more of me into her mouth and swirled her tongue beneath and along the underside. Stars were bursting in my eyes.

Then her lips slipped off the tip. “Is this okay?”

“Yes, yes …”

“I’m not hurting you; my teeth aren’t scraping?”

“No! Your teeth feel wonderful. Please, Enid, don’t stop.”

“Okay, okay,”

My cock was back in the wet satchel of her mouth. Her tongue was marvelous, with designs of its own. Then she pulled me out again.

“What if you come?”

“Oh, jeeze, Enid, that’s the general idea.”

“I know, but do you want me to swallow?”


“No? But I always heard …”

“Oh, Enid, pleeeease … honey, just suck me off.”

She giggled, then she sucked me harder. I felt her other hand cup my balls and my cock twitched in her mouth. She stopped just a split second then resumed her pace. My come rocketed into her throat. She coughed.

I leaned against the wall, smiling like some mindless idiot. Enid stood; my come was drooling from the corners of her mouth.

“I swallowed a little bit,” she said. “Couldn’t help it—you came so fast.”

“Uh-huh,” I nodded.

“It kinda tastes like really bland tartar sauce, you know, like when you don’t make it right and it gets sort of runny.”

I shook my head, then I kissed her, smearing myself with my own come. Cripes, tartar sauce?

I switched positions with her and leaned her against the wall. Her little tits were heaving like there was a bellows beneath them.

I droned in a mock serious tone. “You understand what this means, Enid?”


“You’re a cocksucker.”

“Oh … gawd.”

“A damned good cocksucker.”

She started to say something, but lost her breath. I never knew a girl who could get so instantly aroused with dirty talk.

I slid my hand beneath her pussy and rubbed her clit with my thumb while teasing her anus with the tip of my middle finger. She came almost instantly, a visible shudder rattling up her body. Her eyes closed and her knees failed her. But I held her up and lifted her into my arms.

She kissed my face like she couldn’t get enough of me. Then she shouted, “Enid Taitleman is a cocksucker!”

Outside the window, next door, Mrs. Cholaky exploded with an “Oy!”

“Oh, my gawd!” Enid cried.

* * *

I had to get back to my motel room and get the rest of my clothes. We decided to do that first, and then find a place on the boulevard to have breakfast.

Enid dressed in a denim skirt and had taken a powder blue t-shirt from a drawer and a white bra.

“Why don’t you leave the bra?” I asked.

“Cause my nipples will poke out.”


“Okay, I’m a pancake chest, but jeeze.”

I shrugged. “I think you’ll look great in just the tee. But, if you think you need the bra …”

“Okay, okay.” She pulled the tee over her head. “See, they practically poke through.”

“I like ’em.”

She took a denim jacket from her closet and pulled it over her tee.

“Tease,” I said. She stuck her tongue out at me.

When we got to the Motel 8 there was only one guy working the desk. I asked him when check-out time was. He looked at me, then looked at Enid.

“One o’clock, sir.” He looked Enid up and down again. “Plenty of time, sir.”

I nodded and took Enid’s hand. I led her to the elevator. While we were waiting I said, “He knows.”

“Knows what?”

“That you sucked my cock.”

Enid’s mouth fell open and her ears turned crimson. “Stop it, he does not!”

“Didn’t you notice how he was looking at you? Probably thinks you’re some slut I picked up for a quick fuck.”

She elbowed me under the ribs, just as the elevator door opened. We stepped on. The doors were about to close when an older, stocky man with white hair hurried on and nodded to us.

I leaned over and whispered in Enid’s ear. “He knows too.”

That earned me another elbow in the ribs. We got off on the fourth floor and walked down a long hall to my room. I opened the door for Enid.

“Gawd, do all these cheap hotels look alike?” she asked as she surveyed the sparse room.

“Just the basics. A bed and a bath. A good place for some hot, fast anonymous sex.”

I barely perceived the tremor up Enid’s back.

“Yup, this is where you take a bad girl to give her what she deserves. Hey, you’re a bad girl, aren’t you?”

“Dace, stop, c’mon,” she protested, but her eyes had that faraway look.

“You like it when I call you a bad girl,” I said, and slipped my hands around her hips. “I can’t let a room like this, and a bad girl like you go to waste.”

“Jesus … You’re doing it to me again … you bastard.”

“The guy said to take my time.”

“Dace—Dace—oh, Jesus.”

I spun her around. “Kneel down on the bed. C’mon, get that ass up in the air.”

I lifted her skirt revealing a lacy pair of navy blue panties. I had them down to her knees before she knew what happened. I gave her a little push and she fell forward onto the bed. I tugged them down her calves and let them dangle from one ankle.

“C’mon, back up on all fours. Raise that pretty ass of yours.”

I opened my pants and my cock sprang out. I was hard and aching for her pussy.

“I’m gonna fuck you doggie style, in this crummy hotel room, cause you’re a dirty little girl, Enid. God, I love to fuck you, you little cocksucker.”

Enid was past the point of intelligible communication. As soon as I penetrated her she began her all-vowel repertoire. Holding her hips I pumped her hard and fast, but she met every intrusion with a counter push. Seeing my cock piston her ass got my juices roiling again. I was afraid I’d come too soon. I tried to concentrate on something else, something neutral that would let me ease up. But Enid was swiveling her hips, grunting, gasping.

“C’mon, fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck my slut pussy! O-god-o-god-o-god-o-god ….”

I gave up. My cock was on a hair-trigger and I launched a stream. It felt so good, it hurt.

“Yes,” Enid hissed. “Give me all of it. Oh, Jesus.”

My cock slipped from her cunt, trailing tendrils of come. More drooled between her pussy lips.

She tried to stand, but her legs were wobbly. Mine were too, but I managed to support us both. She clasped her arms around me and laid her head against my chest.

“Whew …” she sighed. “Enid Taitleman got fucked in a cheap hotel room.”

I held her a while. “Ready for breakfast?”

“Wasn’t that breakfast?”

“C’mon, you nut.”

“Okay … where are my panties?”

“I’m keeping them.”

“No you’re not. Give me my panties.”


“Dace, I can’t go out in a skirt with no panties. C’mon …”


“It’ll make me crazy, please …”

“No panties. Now sit down on the bed while I get dressed. And don’t move.”


“Yes … yes I am.”

I dressed and packed. Enid meanwhile dabbed at her pussy with tissues. “Gawd, I’m leaking. Oh, Dace, please …”

“No! Now, c’mon.”

“Oh, my gawd.”

Enid walked close to me. The deskman’s smile was oily as I tossed him the key. Enid tried not to look in his direction, but I guessed she couldn’t help herself. The deskman winked. Enid’s face went cherry red.

“Yup,” I said as she broke from me and ran to her car. “He knows we fucked.”

She popped the trunk and I tossed in my bag. Then she stepped out and gave me the keys. “I can’t drive.”

I laughed and got behind the wheel. We parked in front of Enid’s place, then we walked a few blocks to Queens Boulevard—a potpourri of every human race on the planet. We had trouble deciding whether we should eat at the Middle East café, the Mexican joint, or the Korean coffee shop. When in doubt, always try an Irish bar.

We ordered two full Irish breakfasts, very un-kosher, but then I didn’t think Enid was all that devout. Not when it came to food. The girl could pack it away, but never put on a pound.

We ordered bloody marys to wash it down. Enid settled back a little. “You are such a prick,” she said. “What is the waitress gonna think when she finds I leaked come all over the booth. I want my panties back.”

“You liked it.”

“I—that’s not the point. You’re a prick.”

“You fuck like a dream, Enid.” My unguarded effusion of sincerity caught Enid by surprise. Me too. I thought she was going to cry.

“Yeah, well, you’ve probably knocked me up.”

“Huh?” Where did that brick come from?

She read the stricken look on my face. “Oh, for crissakes, I’m kidding. I’m on the pill.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, I have to … otherwise I get irregular periods. Figures I’d be taking it for medical reasons.”

I let myself breathe again.

“Jesus, Dace, did you think I was trying to trap you, or something?”

I couldn’t admit that yes, for a second, it did cross my mind. But she read it in my eyes anyway. And I hated the hurt I saw in hers.

“I’m sorry, Enid. You just kind of sprang that on me. I … I’d never …”

She reached over the table and took my hand. “Dace, I don’t want this weekend to end. But, I would never, ever …”

“I know, there’s no need to say it. I’m sorry; I can be a real shithead sometimes. That’s probably why I can’t keep a woman in my life.”

“I can’t believe that.”

“Erin was just the first. There have been a couple of others. I never know what the hell I did, but it always ends with them running away as fast as they can. This weekend has been the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. I really needed … needed to be with … needed you. Thanks for being there … okay?”

Her face brightened into a smile, then she purred, “Give me my panties back, please …”



“Hey, let’s go into town, do some touristy stuff.”

“Like what?”

“I always wanted to take that boat ride around Manhattan. Whadya say?”

“I’ll be cold if I don’t have panties.”

“Forget the panties.”

“Okay. Jesus, Dace, I’m going to be hornier than a brass band.”

“I’m counting on it.”

* * *

We climbed the subway El and waited on the platform. It was sunny and 70 with a slight caressing breeze, but to Enid it was a gale.

“Gawd, it’s blowing right up my skirt, Dace.”

“Good, maybe it’ll cool off that hot little snatch of yours.”


The train pulled in. It was fairly empty since it was a holiday weekend. Seemed like a lot of people had gotten out of town. I sat, but Enid continued to stand.

“C’mon, there’s plenty of room.”

“I’m not sitting in a short skirt with no panties.”

“Okay, just keep standing there until some old perv comes by and slips his hand up your ass, or some Japanese tourist comes by with a camera phone looking to snag a couple of up-skirt shots.”

Enid took a look around and hurriedly planted her ass next to me. She held her thighs together like a vise. I leaned over and whispered, “Still chilly?”

She tried hard to suppress her smile and look grim. A tall, good-looking Hispanic guy got on at the next stop and sat right across from Enid. He nodded his head and smiled at her.

“Hola!” he said.

“Buenas dias,” I replied.

He nodded his head as if giving approval. “Nice day to take a pretty lady into town.”

“Es verdad, man.”


Enid held my hand tight, and held her legs together even tighter. We all got off at Times Square station and our companion drifted into the crowd. We headed for the platform that would take us to the Battery.

Enid was trembling.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get scared. I’ll give you your panties back as soon as we find a place for you to change.”

“No … I mean, I wasn’t scared.”

“Oh? Okay.”

“He said I was pretty.”

“Yeah, I think it must have been the pheromones that were wafting from your pussy to his nose. Nice guy, though, and they say New Yorkers aren’t nice.”

“You’re still a prick.”

I lifted just enough of her panties from my jacket pocket for a peek. “And you’re as cute as lace pants.”

She elbowed me, then she leaned into me, stood on her tip-toes and kissed me. I figured the hem of her skirt must have been riding up pretty close to her ass. Maybe that’s why everyone who passed grinned.

We took the train to the Battery and stepped out into a huge crowd of tourists. I could see the excitement in Enid’s eyes. She had to be thinking everyone in the crowd knew she was going commando.

I bought tickets for the Manhattan cruise. Most people were heading over to Liberty Island so we didn’t have to wait long.

Once onboard Enid insisted we stand by the railing. I held her as we watched the skyscrapers slide past in a slow crawl. The PA system was scratchy and we couldn’t make out half of what the guy was saying. We knew all the landmarks anyway. It was a long slow cruise, and Enid and I necked like a couple of high school kids.

We had entered the Hudson from the Harlem River and were chugging between the island and New Jersey. A beefy older guy came out of the head, and just seemed to stare in Enid’s direction.

“Oh-oh, he knows,” I said.

“Dace, cut it out.”

“Did you bend over somewhere when I wasn’t looking?”


“This guy’s hungry, look at him. Jeeze, what your pussy does to guys, it ought to be outlawed.”

“Dace, please, don’t make me …”

She turned back toward the rail. Her shoulders heaved and I thought she was laughing until the tear ran over her cheek.

“Oh, shit, Enid, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to … I overdid it, I’m a jerk, I …”

“No … you don’t understand.”


“Dace, you’ve fucked me more times in under 48 hours than I’d been my entire life. Not only that, but you fucked me better than I could ever dream. Jesus, you get me soaking wet just whispering in my ear. I feel sexy and desirable—that’s not Enid.”

“What do you mean?”

“Things like that don’t happen to me, I told you that. I wasn’t a virgin, but so what? The only guys I had were sympathy fucks arranged by friends, or worse, my cousins. The one guy I got on my own, well he was just a loser and couldn’t get anyone in bed with him, except me. I think I put the guy off sex anyway.”

“Like you said, he was a loser.”

“Well, so am I. Back in college, I hung out with you guys because … I don’t know; it was like I could get by on my friends’ romances. Sounds sick, doesn’t it?”

“No …”

“Yes, it is. But, I adjusted to it, you know? I figured I’d be alone, I accommodated myself to that. But then along comes this weekend and … Dace, you make me feel like a different woman. You wanted me; you wanted to make love to me. And tomorrow you’re leaving, and I don’t think I can handle turning back into plain old Enid again. Enid the boiled chicken.”

“No you’re not. I told you, Enid, I needed you this weekend.”

“Maybe, but the weekend’s almost over. Maybe pretty girls … girls like Erin don’t need to worry about being lonely, invisible. Girls like me, well jeeze, we can’t be blasé about sex, you know? Once in a while something wonderful might happen, and that’s what we’re supposed to hang on to? That’s supposed to get us through our lives? I just don’t think I can, now that I know what it’s like to be really wanted … desired.”

“Enid, I have to go back, I …”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to stalk you, or demand we start picking out curtains together. I’m glad this weekend happened. It’s just, it’s going to hurt so much when there’s no more. I’m sorry …”

She cried into my shoulder. “Enid, I’m no prize. I’m moody, mean. I scare women away eventually. I’m just as much a loser as any of those guys you described.”

She hiccupped. “Yeah, sure.”

“Really, I couldn’t get a girl to look at me in high school. I called one for a date once and you know what she said?”

“What?” She hiccupped again.

“She said she wasn’t home.”

“No she did not.”


“So, what did you do?”

“I asked her when she would be back, and could she take a message for herself.”

Enid laughed. “You didn’t … what she say?”

“No sense of humor, she hung up on me.”


“I got to college, I figured I was in for the same. Then Erin talked to me in class one day, like I was the most fascinating guy on the planet. I didn’t get it. She was this knock-out; a hundred guys were dreaming about just getting near her pants. So, all of a sudden I figure I’m cool, a late bloomer maybe. When she dumped me before graduation, I was so pathetic; I told her I’d kill myself if she left. Mr. Loser again. I was so scared I’d never find anyone else. But I did, a couple of times, they all ended the same way. It’s got to be me, but I can’t figure out why, why I’m poison.”

“We had fun in school.”

“We did. I’d forgotten how much fun you and I had. I wanted to forget all that. I came down here to pull the curtain over the whole bunch, but then that grin of yours … and in the cemetery, like lightning hit or something. It was like you were giving me something I needed for a long time and never knew. I don’t know how to explain it, but I wanted to make love to you so much.”

“Tomorrow is still going to come.”

“Yeah, but we have another night left.”

We had dinner in Little Italy and took the train back to Sunnyside. It was twilight when we got to her door. Mrs. Cholaky sat in front of her house in a lawn chair. The air was delicious.

“Hello, Enid, beautiful night. Oh, your friend is still here?”

I nodded and waved to Mrs. Cholaky. I don’t know if she noticed I was waving with Enid’s panties. When Enid saw she gasped. I tossed her the frillies and said, “Here, hon, you forgot these.”

Enid snatched them and bolted inside without another word. I smiled at Mrs. Cholaky, who grinned and said, “Oy!”

Inside, Enid whirled and chanted, “You bastard, you bastard, you bastard!”

“Let’s get naked.”

“Strip me, you prick!”

“C’mere, slut.”

* * *

We opened every window in Enid’s bedroom and let the breezes blow through. If Mrs. Cholaky was listening, she heard a major symphony that night.

We fell asleep in each other’s arms. I dreamt of airport corridors.

It wasn’t even dawn. The sky had only started to lighten. I felt Enid’s finger trace a line from my chest to my cock. She took it in her hand and squeezed and stroked until I was rigid and pointing at the ceiling. I pretended to be asleep, but with that hard-on I couldn’t tell if Enid believed it.

Then she swung herself over me and straddled my hips, positioned my cock at her pussy and slowly impaled herself onto me. Then she began to fuck me, roughly, relentlessly. I was just along for the ride. My eyes snapped open. It was my turn to sing vowels.

“I’m going to fuck you!” she grunted. “You prick, you raped me. Now I’m going to rape you, prick! Bastard! Fucking, fuck, fuck, fucker!”

She ground her behind into me and slammed herself down. “I’m going to fuck you so hard!”

She was crazed, and I felt my fluids collecting.

“I’m coming! Give it up!”

I didn’t have to be told twice. I gave up everything as her body shook and a long plaintive cry pierced the silence.

She fell on top of me, her sweat mingling with mine.

“Gawd, I liked that. I fucked you good, Dacey.”

“You sure as shit did,” I said, breathless.

* * *

We could have slept all day, but I got up and showered alone. She followed and we both dressed without saying much to each other. We walked up to the boulevard and had breakfast at the Korean coffee shop. Then we walked back, hand-in-hand. Mrs. Cholaky peeked at us through her curtains. Enid waved and gave her a big grin, but she dashed out of sight.

I hailed a cab on Skillman Street. Enid hopped in and said she’d ride to the airport and see me off.

It was a holiday Monday so not too many people were flying back on the shuttle. I had about 15 minutes to get through the gate and security.

“So, I guess this is it,” she said. “Dace, we’re still friends, right?”

“We’ll always be friends, Enid. What kind of question is that?”

“I don’t know. I just feel … changed.”

“Maybe for the better?”

“I don’t know. It’s back to work tomorrow, back to regular life.”

“Ever get some time off from that job?”

She shrugged. “I have all kinds of personal days coming to me.”

“Enid, I’m taking some time off in two weeks. Why don’t you put some of those days together, and you can come up to Boston … for an extra long weekend.”

She shrugged again. “Just a weekend?”

“Some people live just for the weekends.”

“Make it worth my while.”

“Well, I can take you on a tour of the Freedom Trail.”

“I’m not much for history.”

“Bend you over one of the cannon on Old Ironsides and fuck you brainless in front of a bunch of sailors.”

“Hmm, I don’t know.”

“Spread you out on Bunker Hill and make three assaults on your breastworks.”

“Sounding better.”

All chatter in the terminal had stopped as every eye focused on us.

“We could have a picnic on the Common, and I could have you for lunch.”

“Would you let me give you a hand job on the Swan Boats?”

“Oh, yes …”

“Promise to do that thing you did to me with your thumb and finger.”

“I promise.”

She shrugged again. “I’ll think about it.”

She started to walk away. A couple of young GIs were sitting red-faced and grinning checking us out.

One looked at me and nodded.

“Hey, soldier,”

“Yes, Sir!”

“Whacha think of that girl? Go ahead; say it so she’ll hear it.”

“A-fucking-AWESOME, sir!”

Enid stopped, looked back over her shoulder, and then continued toward the exit with a saucy sway of her hips.

I turned and started toward the gate. The security guy gave me a knowing look.

“Two weeks,” I said. “Just two weeks.”

© 2005 Robert Buckley. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

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