My First Hanukkah

This is an entry in the Winter Holiday Contest, so I would appreciate your votes, and, as always, your feedback and comments. This is a Romance story, so if you are looking for hardcore descriptions of sex, you should look elsewhere, but I hope you enjoy this.

Part 1: About Me

I grew up in a small town in Pennsylvania and attended the local Catholic school that members of my family had attended for generations. I was tall and a pretty good basketball player. My family didn't have much money, and I wasn't really good enough at hoops to get any kind of scholarship, so I spent two years at community college, where I was lucky to have a good, young coach who had a friend who was an assistant at a small evangelical Christian college. My game had improved enough that I was able to transfer to that school, and get them to pay for it. Which probably was some sort of violation, but I didn't care.

Now, just because I went to Catholic school, it didn't mean I was inexperienced with girls. I was an athlete, in good shape and considered cute, I guess. And there is some truth to the stereotype of the horny Catholic school girl who looks so innocent in her uniform, but is a tiger when she takes it off. I partook of my share of hot girls, in my car, under the bleachers—all of the clichéd places that teenagers have found to allow their raging hormones to express themselves.

And since my community college was in the next town over, I continued to score regularly off the court with girls from the high school, as well as some of my college classmates, but I never really had a real relationship with any women. I guess I never found the right one.

The evangelical college was somewhat different. Most of the students were committed to their faith, and the times that I was able to convince one of the girls to throw off her inhibitions and her clothes were few and far between. There also wasn't any kind of bar scene in the nearby area, so I spent many nights alone, studying, practicing and taking care of my own needs.

My enforced near-hermit lifestyle led to my getting the best grades of my life, and playing better basketball than I ever had. I helped lead the team to its first league championship in years, although we lost closely in the first round of the playoffs to a much bigger school. I graduated cum laude with a degree in marketing. In another bit of luck, a former basketball player from the school had moved to New York and had become a senior vice president at a large advertising and marketing firm, and he offered me a job. With a little bit of trepidation, but a great deal of excitement, I decided to leave my small town life and head for the big city.

It was quite the change of pace. I think there were more people in the apartment building that I lived in than in my hometown. I slowly learned my way around the city, and with my coworkers, who became my friends, I found great bars and restaurants, and we had fun. After the slim pickings of my college years, I found that New York was a virtual smorgasbord of attractive women who often seemed as willing as I was to have meaningless hookups. I was enjoying this immensely, and I loved my job. One day, I looked up, and realized that I had been working hard and playing hard for almost four years.

Everything changed, though, on a cold February Saturday night when I met Adina at a bar. She was the sister of one of my work buddies, Josh, and she worked at a not for profit organization. One look at her olive skin, long curly black hair and sexy, curvy body, and I was hopelessly in lust. I was able to get alone with her briefly, and she was as captivating as she was beautiful. But we were with a group, and nothing happened that night.

The next Monday at work, I cornered Josh, but before I could say anything, he smiled and handed me a piece of paper with Adina's name, phone number and email address, saying, "Bro, Adina asked me to give this to you." Josh still held on to his frat boy past, maybe a little too long, but somehow he made it work, and we had become pretty good "buds." He smiled at what I assumed was the goofy look on my face as I looked at the paper.

"Thanks," I said.

"Go out with her a few times and then let me know if you want to thank me," he said, laughing.

I looked at him quizzically.

"I'm just kidding. She is great, but be careful. She's maybe a little spoiled. And when she falls for a guy, she falls hard, and then she gets her heart broken. It's been that way since she was in high school."

"I'll be careful," I replied, and went back to my office.

Part 2: I Wasn't Careful

I called her that afternoon, and we went out for dinner. I couldn't tell you a single thing about the meal, but I know that we sat at the table for three hours talking. Adina really was great to talk to, and she listened. I told her about my family back in Pennsylvania, my father the trucker and my mom who worked at the library, and my sister, who stayed home with her kids, and she told me about her family from Connecticut, her mother the lawyer and her father who ran a hedge fund, which I only vaguely understood, except that they made lots of money. Which explained Josh's comment about being spoiled, I guess.

We discussed pretty much all of the things that everyone tells you to avoid like the plague on the first date—politics (ours were pretty similar), marriage (she wanted two kids, I kind of wanted 3), sex (we both liked it) and religion. I sort of understood that she and Josh were Jewish, but she said that she really didn't practice or even believe in God, but enjoyed celebrating some of the holidays with the family. That was pretty much the way I felt about my Catholicism, although I hadn't been to a family celebration since the first Christmas after I moved to New York, and would call myself more of an agnostic than an atheist.

Although I had lived in New York for nearly four years, and certainly had Jewish friends, and probably had slept with Jewish women, I had never really had any close relationship with any Jews. Before moving to the city, the only time I came in contact with any Jews was in high school, when we would play one of their schools in the parochial school leagues. I had no position on Jews or Judaism at all, I just never really knew any well enough.

That night, we took a cab back to her apartment, and while I hoped that she would invite me up for the proverbial drink, as we pulled up to her apartment on the Upper West Side, she leaned over to me and gave me a kiss that I felt down to my toes, with a strong detour to my stiffening cock.

Pulling away, she smiled and said, "I had a great time, next time is on me."

I was physically unable to respond, and watched as she opened the cab door and slid out, one beautiful, black stockinged leg at a time. I stammered my address to the cab driver, and he headed downtown to the humble studio apartment in Hell's Kitchen that I moved into when I could actually afford to live alone.

It was still early when I got home, horny as hell and, I later realized, totally in love. I tried to watch the second half of the Knicks game, but I couldn't concentrate. I wanted to call Adina, but I thought that was a mistake. This whole wanting to see a girl again (and again, and again) thing was new to me, and I didn't know what to do. Eventually, I hit the shower and relieved myself, then got into bed and tossed and turned until the alarm went off for work.

The next morning, Josh came to my desk, smiling. "Adina texted me over the weekend that she had a great time with you."

I felt my face stretching as I smiled widely.

I tried to say something, but before I could, Josh said, "Dude, you have it bad."

I nodded.

He shook his head and said, "I guess my warnings fell on deaf ears. Anyway, I hope neither of you get hurt."

Part 3: Neither of us got hurt

At lunch, I texted Adina that I had a great time, and looked forward to seeing her again. She responded that she also had a great time, and invited me to her apartment on Tuesday night for dinner. I immediately accepted.

Work was busy, so I returned to my screen, and found myself, mostly, immersed in what I was doing, with an occasional thought of Adina. The next day was pretty much the same, as I counted the hours before I could leave and head uptown. Finally, I finished what I needed to finish, logged out of my computer and headed out, waving to my poor colleagues who had to stay later.

I took the subway uptown and found her building, a luxury doorman high-rise that made my little building seem like a sharecropper shack. The elevator left me on a floor with four apartments, and I knocked on 8-K.

A few seconds later, the door opened, and there she was, wearing tight jeans that hugged her beautiful round ass, and a black turtleneck that similarly clung to the generous curves of her breasts. And over that, a goofy, frilly pink apron that looked like a 1950's housewife's. Her curly hair was a bit mussed, probably from cooking. I handed her the bottle of wine that I brought, and she looked at it as if amused, then gave me a blinding smile and pulled me into the apartment. I was only able to get a quick look before she pulled me close to her and gave me a kiss that made the one in the cab seem like a birthday kiss from your great aunt.

She disengaged and said, "I hope you like chicken."

I nodded and she returned to the kitchen, opened the wine I brought and poured two glasses and left them on the counter. As I walked to get my drink, I looked around at the apartment. It was huge, and furnished with what looked like expensive things. The kitchen was open to the living room, and had fancy, restaurant style appliances, and Adina looked like she knew what she was doing.

"It smells great," I said, taking a drink of wine. It did smell great.

"Thanks. I spent a summer at cooking camp years ago, and just love cooking."

"I never learned how to cook," I said. "Mostly I eat take out or frozen dinners."

"That's pathetic," she said, laughing. "I think this will be a bit better."

"I'm sure it will be. What is it?" I asked.

"Chicken Tikka Masala," she replied. "I hope you like Indian."

"I really do," I said. And I really did, but frankly, I would have eaten a bag of trash if she served it to me, and complimented her on it.

We made random conversation while she puttered around the kitchen, finishing the dish, stirring the rice and heating up some naan in the oven. I couldn't take my eyes off of her, and loved the way her nose crinkled when she tasted the food, and the way she kept brushing the hair out of her eyes.

Dinner was actually great, and we kept drinking and talking well after we had sopped up the last of the masala sauce with the naan.

"Your apartment is beautiful," I told her.

"My parents bought it when real estate prices were low, and have fixed it up and kept it. Josh lived here for a while before he moved in with Jennifer, and I moved in after I graduated from Smith."

"You are so lucky," I said. "I live in a studio in a walkup."

"I'm sure it's great," she said. It was not great.

"Sure," I lied.

"Would you like a tour?" she asked with a mischievous smile.

"Absolutely," I replied.

She led me into the bedroom and said, "This is my bedroom." Before I could say anything, she pushed me down on the bed and straddled me. "And this is my bed," she said, leaning down and planting yet another body shaking kiss on my eager lips. The taste of wine and Indian spices on her lips and the light floral scent of her hair as it enveloped my head were overwhelming, and I enjoyed being overwhelmed.

The sex was as good as any I ever had on a purely technical basis. Adina was sexy and sensual, and clearly knew her way around a male body. We went at it, hard, soft, tender, rough, for what felt like hours. Because it went on for hours. And as amazing as it was, physically, I also felt a connection to this woman that I hadn't felt with anyone else, ever.

She woke me up from a deep satisfying sleep and said, "You probably want to go home and change before work, right?"

"Yeah," I said. I looked at the clock, and it was 5:30 a.m. "But not just yet," I said, leaning in and kissing her soft, full lips. She yielded to my pressure and I landed on top of her large, firm breasts. We had tender morning sex, and after quickly cleaning up in the bathroom, I dressed, kissed her goodbye and headed for the door.

From the bedroom, I heard, "Have a great day. Let's do this again."

Part 4: We Do It Again and Again

Over the next few months, Adina and I became inseparable. I essentially moved into her apartment, and only went back to mine to grab clothing or other items that I wanted. I met her friends, and she met mine. We went out and stayed in. We made love and got to know each other better. We had friendly arguments that usually ended up with us naked and screwing. I soon realized that she was my best friend, maybe the best friend I ever had. We had a comfort level that was incredible. I was scarily happy, and I worried about blowing it, because I was in what was, for me, very uncharted waters.

I became close friends with Josh and Jennifer, and we had gone out for dinner with Adina's parents a couple of times, which went smoothly. Although they lived in Connecticut, they were the kind of sophisticated New Yorkers that I never had imagined meeting, much less dining with. Much less sleeping with their daughter. But they seemed cool about the relationship, and didn't treat me like some hick from western Pennsylvania, which made things easier.

My parents and big sister Maria and her kids came to visit us in the city, and Adina and I showed them around, and everyone had an incredible time. My dad pulled me aside at one point and told me that I'd be nuts to let Adina get away, and I agreed.

In September, Adina and I were sitting in bed on Saturday morning, watching the news after very satisfying morning sex, and her mother called. Being the pleasantly naughty girl that she was, she held the phone in one hand and jerked me off with the other, while carrying on a conversation with her mother. I was about to blow when she said goodbye, put down the phone and threw her mouth onto my throbbing cock, causing me to immediately explode.

After I recovered, she told me that her mother had called to make sure that I was coming for Rosh Hashanah dinner. Adina explained that it was the Jewish New Year, but that her family just got together to eat traditional foods, and skipped temple altogether. There was no question that I was going to go, and she told me that Josh and Jennifer and us would leave work early and take the train to Connecticut and head back after dinner.

It went smoothly, although the train was very crowded, and the food was amazing. The brisket could be cut with a fork, and the potato kugel was delicious. Adina's family's house was huge and tastefully decorated. I kind of wish we had come up during the summer, because they had a large swimming pool, but I figured that next summer would be here soon enough, and I intended on still being with Adina, a thought that did not fill me with dread.

Stuffed to the gills, we returned to the city on a late train, but the hour, and all of the food, did not prevent us from having some pretty amazing sex back at the apartment. Afterward, as her voluptuous naked body nestled against mine and I ran my fingers through her curls, she told me that we needed to go back on Friday for Yom Kippur, and could stay over for the weekend. Even I knew that it was a fast day, but Adina told me that her family didn't fast, but still went to her aunt's for a "break the fast" the next evening.

Again, everything went smoothly. We ate well, had some quiet sex in her childhood bedroom, which I found curiously arousing, and I got along well with her relatives. I really found myself enjoying the Jewish holidays. When we finished making love back at the apartment on Sunday night, Adina told me that the next holiday was Hanukkah, which was her favorite.

Part 5: And Hanukkah Became My Favorite, Too

A couple of weeks before Hanukkah, Josh grabbed me at the office and said, "you know that Adina really loves Hanukkah, right?"

"She told me."

"I'm not sure you understand," he said, "she

really

loves Hanukkah."

"What are you trying to tell me?" I asked.

"You know that it is an eight night deal," he asked.

"Yeah, you light a candle each night," I said, showing off my mastery of Wikipedia.

"You get a gift each night," he said. "And Adina loves Hanukkah gifts."

I began to see what he was getting at. "You're saying that I need to get her really nice gifts?"

"Exactly, bro," he replied. "And they should build from nice the first night, to awesome on the last night."

"Got it," I replied.

"Look, Pat," he said, looking at me meaningfully, "Adina's last boyfriend got her joke gifts for Hanukkah. And she was available for you, if you understand what I'm saying. We all like you, and think you guys are great together, so please don't fuck this up."

"I'll try. And thanks for the heads up."

I spent the next few days shopping on stores and online, and even ran a few ideas past Jennifer, after swearing her to secrecy. I was feeling pretty good about my purchases, and hoped that Adina really liked them. It wasn't easy, but I wrapped them all, found a hiding place, and waited.

I came home from the office on the first night of Hanukkah, and when I entered the apartment, the smell was fantastic. Adina had changed from her work clothes into casual wear, and had that slightly mussed, sexy look that she had when she cooked. We kissed, as usual, and I went back to the bedroom to change. Grabbing the first, small gift, I shoved it into my pocket.

After a delicious meal of roasted chicken and potato pancakes—latkes—we lit the menorah. Before we lit the candles, Adina said, "you know that I'm not religious, but this is a tradition that l love."

She taught me the prayer and I tried to follow along. The peaceful look on her stunning face made me feel warm inside, and the flattering candlelight only enhanced her beauty.

"O.K., now time for presents," she said with an almost childish glee.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small, wrapped box. She smiled and said, "oh yeah, you probably don't know about 'hot and cold'."

"What did I do wrong?" I asked, concerned about blowing Hanukkah on the first night.

Adina looked up at me and smiled. "Nothing to worry about, sweetie," she said, continuing, "my family's tradition is to hide the gifts and then give hints—hotter as you got close, colder as you went further away. Let me open your gift, and then you can play."

She ripped off the wrapping paper and opened the small box, unveiling the handmade earrings that I bought at a crafts shop. They were pretty, I thought, and I started small, as Josh suggested.

I could tell from the pleased look on her face that I had chosen well.

"They're beautiful," she said, smiling. She removed the earrings that she was wearing and put the new ones into her pierced lobes, then looked at herself in the mirror. I had survived the first gift, and relaxed a little.

She kissed me, then said, "O.K., your turn. Start looking."

I wandered around the living room, following Adina's directions of "hot" or "cold" and varying degrees of both, until it was clear that the gift was in the bedroom. Finally, after walking around the bed, I reached under my pillow and pulled out a package, which I unwrapped, finding a tube of chocolate flavored lube.

When I looked at Adina, she was taking off her shirt, and I understood that part of my gift was that we were going to immediately put it to use. And we did, in many ways. The first night of Hanukkah was a rousing success.