by Jewel Ann
I can’t figure out how to properly have sex with Dorothy. A serious relationship seems a ways down the road. And she works three long shifts a week and goes to school. The last thing Dorothy needs is to be anyone’s glue.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I just wanted you to meet her, since she’s met Roman. And I, at the moment, enjoy her company.” I retrieve the food from the fridge, specifically the plate my mom made up and saved for me.
“Okay. I have to call in a prescription. I’ll be right out.”
I nod, grabbing a glass of orange juice before shouldering my way out the screen door to the porch, where my dad’s sitting with a satisfied grin as he watches Dorothy and Roman play ball with Elmo.
“I like her, Eli.”
My shit-eating grin doubles. How could anyone not like Dorothy Mayhem? “Yeah, I do too. How’ve you been?” I sit next to him instead of interrupting the yard play.
“Not bad. Your mom’s bugging me to take time off for a vacation. She wants to go to Costa Rica after Christmas.”
“Well, then take Mom to Costa Rica.”
“I hate to travel.”
I chuckle. “You hate anything that takes you away from your shop. I’m amazed you’re sitting here right now.”
“You know she threatened to do something very brutal to my balls if I didn’t stay … what were her words? Oh yeah, fully engaged, during brunch with your friend.”
“Dorothy will give you a pass if you want to change your clothes and get a wrench in your hands. I’m certain she wasn’t thrilled about meeting you and Mom all alone.”
“You wouldn’t have known. She’s quite chatty when you get her started about something she loves … like your ex-wife.”
A grunt makes it past the spoonful of frittata in my mouth. I wipe it with a napkin. “Was Dorothy here when Julie dropped off Roman?”
He shrugs. “Beats me.”
“Yes,” Mom answers as she pushes open the screen door. “They all arrived at the same time. I gathered there was a conversation happening on the porch before I opened the door. All friendly and amicable. Julie looked a bit thrown by Dorothy being here, but not necessarily angry. Just like it was unexpected.”
I wonder if I’ll get a call or message from Julie. They must have discussed my inviting Dorothy to brunch. “Well, too bad it’s not any of her business.”
“Now, Eli, Roman is her son too. She should be concerned enough to want to know that the people you bring into his life are good for him, and you should have the same concerns about the people Julie dates.”
“I don’t think she dates. I’ve heard she just has random hookups when I have Roman. Go, Julie! It’s never too late to be a slut.”
“Elijah Alexander Hawkins!” Mom whisper yells.
“Too far?” I smirk before taking a sip of my juice.
“Yes. Too far. That’s your child’s mother.” Mom frowns. On Fridays, in her office during lunch, she adheres to a slightly more professional tone with me. But at her house, she isn’t Dr. Lori Hawkins, she’s just Mom. Brutally honest and just as opinionated as any other mom is of their child’s behavior.
“Oh … woman down!” Dad cringes.
I shift my attention to the yard.
“Dorfee! You okay?”
I set my plate on the ottoman and jog out to the landscaped area of shrubs and river rock where Dorothy’s on her ass, hissing as she pulls her scraped knees to her chest.
“Daddy! Dorfee’s bleeding! Call 9-1-1!” Roman squats next to her.
“Roman …” I grab his hand just as his chubby little finger reaches for the blood on her knee. “Don’t touch her booboo. It will hurt her. Okay?”
“It’s fine.” She starts to stand.
I grab her arm, helping her to her feet. “We’ll get it cleaned up. What happened?”
“Elmo cut me off. Not his fault. I was looking behind me at Romeo chasing me.”
“Well, I know a good doctor.” I help her toward the house.
“Dr. Hathaway already left.”
“Not funny, Mayhem.” I roll my eyes.
She laughs. “I didn’t know if you’d get the joke. Well … not totally a joke.”
“You okay, Dorothy?” Mom asks as soon as we step onto the porch.
“Yep. Fine. I’m clumsy by nature.”
“First aid kit is upstairs under the sink, Eli.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“I’m fine. Really. We can just blot it with a paper towel.”
“Or we can wash it properly and put some antibiotic ointment and a Band-Aid on it.”
Dorothy rolls her eyes. “Sure. Or that. Nice of you to make it, Dr. Hawkins.”
“Eli. And I’m sorry. Really.”
“It’s okay. I like Roman … and even Elmo in spite of recent events.”
“Not my parents?” I give her side-eye as we reach the top of the stairs.
“They’re okay too, but clearly it was only Roman and Elmo who wanted to play chase in the backyard. It’s not an activity on my watch, so I logged it in under outdoor jog. Did you notice I’m kicking your ass now?”
“The day’s not over.” I give her ass a playful slap as I usher her into the guest bedroom. “Take a seat on the bench. I’ll grab the supplies.”
Dorothy gives me a wide-eyed look over her shoulder. “Getting a little sexual for a family brunch, Dr. Hawkins.” She rubs her ass where I lightly tapped it.
“That wasn’t sexual. It was playful.” I grab the first aid kit and a hand towel.
“Would you spank your mom like that?” She sits on the bench, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Really? You casually undressed for me last night in the backseat of your car, but a playful pat on your ass has what … offended you?” I kneel in front of her.
“I was dressed for sex last night. My mind was focused on sex.”
And … there goes my dick, doing its own thing.
“But today, I’m dressed for brunch with your family. So I wasn’t expecting the sexual advance. That’s all.”
Grinning, I shake my head and clean her knees. “I love your rules. Even if I haven’t mastered them yet. I still love that you have them.”
“You love to break them.” She rubs her lips together when I glance up at her. They have luster, like she recently applied her lip balm. They look kissable. I apply two Band-Aids and part her legs just enough to wedge my body between them, placing my hands in the safe zone just above her ass.
“This feels inappropriate.” Her words would carry more weight if she weren’t staring at my lips. “Your parents and Roman could sneak up here and wonder what’s going on.”
“Is something going on?” I kiss her neck.
She sucks in a sharp breath. “You have to stop teasing me. I can’t figure out what’s a playdate and what’s a sex date, not that we’ve had sex, because I can’t figure out how to make you have it with me. And that’s very frustrating. But anyway … you should behave. It feels like the right thing to do. Maybe I’m not the best judge of that all of the time, but this one is pretty obvious.”
“Wait.” I pull back, cocking my head to the side. “You can’t figure out how to make me have sex with you?”
“Duh …” She shrugs. “If getting completely naked for you and bringing my own condoms doesn’t work, I’m not sure anything will work. So I just need to know, are we ever having sex? Or are you just looking for companionship—a hand to hold, a few stolen kisses … an ass to pat? I’m fine with whatever. It’s just I don’t like not knowing. I need to know. So if it’s never happening, that’s cool. Totally cool. I can stop obsessing over when it’s going to happen. I can focus on my activity rings. I don’t have to deal with sexy panties that itch. I can wear my soft and perfectly worn cotton ones.” She blows out a long breath.
Amazing … since she used so much oxygen to get all of that information out in such a short amount of time. I didn’t think a woman could think about sex more than a man.
Wro
ng.
“You name the place and time.”
She squints. “For sex?”
I nod, sliding my hands an inch lower to scoot her closer to the edge of the bench so she can feel how much I want to have sex with her.
“Now. Right here. Do you have a condom? My handbag is downstairs.”
“Now?” I laugh. Maybe she doesn’t understand flirting and foreplay. “Two seconds ago you gave me a speech about this being inappropriate and someone sneaking up on us. But now you want to have sex? Here? While my parents and Roman wait for me to bandage your wounds?”
She twists her lips to the side for a few seconds. “It’s not ideal. But it’s doable if you don’t take too long and if you cover my mouth if I start to make noise—but I won’t if it’s nothing spectacular. And really, I just think we need to do it, so you know.”
Every single one … every single conversation with Dorothy turns into the most bizarre exchange of random thoughts. Fifty percent inappropriate. Fifty percent gut-splitting funny.
“So I know what?”
“That I’m good at it.”
I try to control my eyebrows shooting up my head, but they do it before I can control my reaction.
This woman …
“I mean …” She rolls her eyes. “Clearly, I lack in the seduction part. I didn’t think that was the case until I met you. But if you ever give me a fair chance, you won’t regret it.”
Seriously … For. The. Love. Of. God! The woman speaks of sex with the demeanor of conducting a job interview.
Yet … yes … I am so fucking turned on at the moment. I press my hands to the bench on both sides of her lap and push myself to standing.
Pivot.
Take three steps.
Shut and lock the bedroom door.
“It’s going to be quick because it has to be. You do not under any circumstances tell anyone that we had quick sex. I don’t need that rumor going around.” I unfasten my jeans and fetch a condom from my wallet.
Yes, I learned my lesson the previous night.
“These are not my sex panties. Just so you know.” She stands, lifts her skirt and shimmies out of her panties.
“No fucks given as to what your panties look like, Dorothy. Just take them off and pick your position.”
Her eyes light up just like her smile. “I get to pick the position?”
When I had sex with Julie for the first time, it started with a kiss that progressed into heavy foreplay that led to my hand sliding down the front of her panties, finding a little nub, and wondering if it was her clit. She stroked me on the outside of my gym shorts so much that it pulled them down a few inches in front. We were a hot mess of teenaged hormones. The sex was awkward, and the groping was sloppy. I couldn’t steady my hands to put on a condom, and Julie worried that we’d be part of the tiny percent of condom failures.
She came on my hand before I put my cock in her, and I came two seconds after said cock entered her.
Decades later … here I am, pushing down my jeans just enough to pull out my cock and roll on a condom with steady hands while Dorothy crawls onto the bed, skirt around her waist, ass in the air.
Doggy style. I didn’t see that being her choice. Interesting …
I stand at the side of the bed and grab her hips, coaxing her to move closer to the edge. So this is thirty-eight, post-divorce, millennial sex. Nothing fancy, just sex a la carte.
My … how times have changed.
“Wait!” She sits back on her heels, back to me, wrist close to her face. “Did you press start yet?”
“What?”
She whips her head back, eyeing me over her shoulder, wearing a spectacular grin. “On your watch?”
“For sex?” I cough a laugh.
“Um … yes. Under your health app on your phone, you can manually add sexual activity. See?” She holds up her arm and presses Go. Then she shrugs. “Don’t worry, yours will just record it as movement.”
I let the “snacking on Dorothy” statement end our quest for sex the previous night. I could easily let the sexual activity tracking on her watch make me pause just long enough to let my thoughts catch up with me.
My parents.
Their house.
Roman.
But … I don’t. Because the second she leans forward again and readjusts her skirt, exposing her bare ass, I can’t stop my hand from sliding between her sexy legs to feel if she’s ready for me.
Her breath hitches when I find her clit, circling my finger over it several times before sliding that finger into her.
“Dr. Hawkins …” She moans my name and jerks against my hand.
“Eli … you have to call me Eli.” Dr. Hawkins makes me feel like a dirty old man doing something really inappropriate to a patient. I work a second finger into her and kiss the curve of her ass.
“Eli … don’t lick my butthole. Okay?” she asks in a breathy voice.
I grin against the soft skin of her perfect ass. “Okay.” My fingers work her faster, and she rocks on her hands and knees to set the pace. I want her naked again. I want to feel every inch of her skin. I want to slide my head between her legs and give her exactly what she wanted the previous night.
But … we have to be quick. So I replace my fingers with my cock, grab her hips, and push into her with just enough force to make her whole body shift forward.
“Eli—” I cover her mouth to muffle her cry.
“I guess this means I’m pretty spectacular, huh?” I whisper, leaning close to her ear.
With my hand still over her mouth, she nods.
I won’t reveal just how quick we finish. But it’s too quick. So quickly that I have a hard-on again by the time she slides her panties back on.
“Forty calories is all?” She frowns at her watch before slipping her feet into her flats again.
After I dispose of the condom and fasten my pants, I grab the back of her head and kiss her. I kiss her like I want to have sex with her—slow and deep. Exploring every inch of her mouth the way I want to do to her body.
Her hands claim my shirt, keeping me close. And she hums into the kiss, softer than earlier, but just as sexy. Seconds … maybe minutes later, I pull away a few inches, admiring the pink blooming in her cheeks and her slightly swollen lips licked clean of all her coconut lip balm.
“Dorothy Mayhem, you are full of surprises.” I curl her hair behind her ear on one side. Apparently foreplay and seduction are not her game. Or maybe it’s a thing of the past. Jesus … am I really that old and clueless about dating and sexual trends?
“Told you I was good at sex.” She smirks.
“Easy, champ. I wouldn’t call forty calories good. I give points for stamina. We’re going to need a redo under better circumstances with more time to really burn some calories.”
“Daddy?” Two little feet slap the stairs in a slow rhythm.
I straighten my shirt and my erection as Dorothy tries to absorb some of the heat from her cheeks with her palms pressed to them. Then I quickly unlock the bedroom door. The last thing I need is Roman telling my mom that the bedroom door is locked.
“Daddy! Where are you?” Roman runs straight into my legs, making me wobble a bit to keep my balance.
“I’m right here, buddy. Are you ready to go home?”
“Dorfee! Your knees are beeding.”
I turn just as she leans down to reattach the Band-Aids. Then my gaze darts to the bed and the two bloody smudges on the off-white quilt. My face twists into a grimace as Dorothy’s gaze follows mine.
“Oops …” She looks back at me, mirroring my grimace.
“I was just getting Dorothy new Band-Aids. They came off because they were too small.” Giving Roman a quick shrug and oh-well face, I pull two new Band-Aids out of the first aid kit.
“Sit.” I wink at Dorothy.
“Ruff!” She barks and grins at Roman while taking a seat on the bench again.
“Uh … interesting position choice, given your recent knee i
njuries,” I mutter under my breath as I replace the Band-Aids, more upset with myself for completely forgetting about her knees once sex became the topic.
“Does my doctor son not know how to put on a Band-Aid?” Mom’s voice creeps closer as Roman climbs onto the bed and starts jumping.
“Down, Roman. Now … please.”
Please, child! Get off the bed before …
“No little monkeys jumping on my bed.” Mom heads toward the bed.
“I’ve got him!” Before I manage to replace the second Band-Aid, I stand, plucking Roman from the bed and turning to face my mom, hoping to block her view of the bloody smudges.
Dorothy finishes the second Band-Aid.
“We couldn’t imagine what was taking you two so long.”
Roman squirms out of my arms and runs toward the stairs.
“Sorry. We were talking … that’s all.” I smile my very best oh-shit-I’m-in-trouble smile.
Dorothy stands and Mom inspects her. “Dear, you have blood smeared all over your knees. Didn’t Eli clean your knees first?” She clucks her tongue and shakes her head.
Dorothy remains statuesque, eyes wide.
“Sit, Dorothy. I’ll get a wet washcloth.” Mom points to the bench at the end of the bed.
“Don’t speak. Okay?” I whisper after Mom leaves the bedroom.
Dorothy nods stiffly.
I move the gray throw blanket up the bed to cover the blood smudges and quickly turn back toward the door when Mom comes in with a wet washcloth. She squats down in front of Dorothy and cleans the dried blood around the Band-Aids.
“There. Much better.” Mom stands straight, smiling at Dorothy. Her smile fades when she sees the throw blanket situated in the middle of the bed.
“Thanks, Mom. I need to use the restroom. Can you take Dorothy downstairs? Maybe package up some of those leftovers for her. She loves leftovers.”
“Sure …” She steps toward the bed.
“What are you doing?” I block her attempt to move toward the bed.
