Kosher And Curry

Brooklyn in the early 2010s was a place split in two. On one side of the avenue, the brownstones of Crown Heights buzzed with the rhythm of African American and Caribbean families. On the other, the white Jewish landlords who owned the houses those Black folks lived in. I'd been walking those streets my entire life, but that summer, everything was different.

The summer after high school. Eighteen, restless. My parents kept a tight leash on me, monitoring my every move, but they couldn't control my thoughts. Or what I did with my body. This was before everyone had a smartphone, so I was free to be wild in secret.

I was a cute black girl with a soft, round face and a body that filled every inch of my short, tight clothes. My thighs were thick, my breasts heavy and round, always more than a handful. My mother hated the way I dressed, but I loved watching men's eyes catch on my hips, the dip of my waist. It was my quiet rebellion against a life spent caged up and told to behave.

I'd go to the library every afternoon just to get out of the house. A little neighborhood library tucked away on a quiet street about a 10 minute walk from the two bedroom apartment I shared with my parents, the kind that felt like a world all its own. That's where I saw Aaron for the first time.

He was tall, at least six feet, and dressed in the traditional black suit and wide-brimmed hat of an Orthodox Jewish boy. His blonde hair was straight and stuck down from his hat, but unlike the other boys, he was clean-shaven, the line of his jaw sharp and strong with full pouty lips. We'd nod at each other for the first few days. Then, one day, he asked, "Do you have the time?"

I glanced down at my empty wrist, cheeks burning. "I... no," I said, fumbling with the strap of my library tote "I don't."

Aaron's grin spread slow and easy, his crystal clear blue eyes dragging over me in a way that made my mouth go dry. "I know," he said, leaning in just a fraction. "I just wanted an excuse to talk to you."

He wasn't shy. Not even close.

From then on, he'd walk with me to the library. I found out he was visiting his grandparents for the summer, staying in a big house on the Jewish side of the avenue. Normally, he lived in Connecticut, where things weren't as strict, and he could get away with shaving his face. He was twenty-one, three years older than me, and everything about him felt forbidden and thrilling.

By the middle of the summer, we'd spend our afternoons sitting together in the reference section, pretending to read while our knees brushed beneath the table. We'd whisper about nothing, about everything. About how much I hated being trapped under my parents' roof. About how much I wanted more. He asked if I had a boyfriend and I joked with him that I'm too young and beautiful to be in a relationship, which made him take his hat off and kiss me until I was dizzy.

His name was Aaron. Twenty-one. Home for the summer, staying with his grandparents because they were getting older, and he wanted to spend some time with them. I felt excited to have his attention. I'd kissed boys before but I wanted a man. And Aaron had a look about him like he knew what to do with a girl and had the hands to do it.

One day, instead of continuing down to the library, we stopped at the tiny neighborhood park. The park was empty, the slide rusty and the sandbox a crater of wet sand. It had rained earlier and he spread his jacket on the seat of the swing so I wouldn't get my tennis skirt wet before leaning on the fence across from me. He stared right between my legs as I swung higher and higher, and it turned me on to know he could see the front of my panties as my swinging blew my skirt up.

I swung until I felt dizzy from the speed and the heights, sticking my feet in the mulch to slow down to a stop.

I crooked a finger at him, and he came.

"Why do you keep walking this way?" I asked, toying with the end of my braid, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath.

"There's a bakery on Rogers that sells these curry chicken patties. I like to sneak one before my grandfather gets home."

I smiled. "So you're sneaking stuff that isn't kosher." I clicked my tongue.

"Don't tell on me." he laughed.

"Well that day I was anyway, and then I saw you and I wanted to talk to you, but I didn't know if you'd talk to me back." He looked at me hungrily and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"So, I just came out at the same time every day, hoping to catch a glimpse of you walking this way until I got the nerve to talk to you."

I laughed at his shyness, and he flashed that lopsided grin I was getting used to. My pulse thrummed in my ears, loud and fast.

"Do you want to kiss me?" I asked.

He didn't answer. Just leaned down, his big hands framing my face, his mouth hot and insistent against mine. There was nothing soft about it. He kissed me like he'd been waiting to do it since the day he first asked me the time.

When he finally pulled back, he dragged his thumb over my bottom lip, eyes heavy-lidded and dark.

"We should head to the library before it starts raining again," I said, clearing my throat as I jumped up from the swing.

Aaron shook out his jacket, slinging it over his arm as we walked the rest of the way to the library. Inside, we found our usual spot on the floor, nestled behind the encyclopedias. I slid down against the wall, and Aaron dropped down beside me, our shoulders pressed close.

We'd hidden a copy of

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

back there -- one of the only ones still left in the library's collection. My parents had banned the books in our house, calling them witchcraft after something my mom heard on a televangelist show. Aaron's parents weren't much different; they'd called the books inappropriate, so he never got to read them.

That's how we started reading them together, my voice a soft murmur as I read the words aloud.

Today, as I read, his hand slid up my thigh, stroking softly just beneath the hem of my skirt. My breath hitched, and I glanced around. No one in sight. This was before cameras were everywhere, before we had to worry about who might be watching.

I looked up at him, and he dipped his head, catching my lips in a kiss -- slow and playful, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip.

"I just like to watch your mouth while you're talking," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin.

"I can do a lot more than talk," I said, nodding toward the bathrooms at the back of the library. "Why don't you meet me in the men's room in a few minutes, and I can show you."

His eyes widened, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Aren't you afraid we'll get caught?"

"Not if you hurry," I said, standing up and smoothing my skirt, winking at him over my shoulder. "I'll be in the handicap stall."

I walked over to the bathroom, the sound of my sneakers echoing against the tile. Inside, I waited exactly thirty seconds before the door creaked open. I stayed quiet, holding my breath.

"Kerry?" His voice was soft, but I could hear the excitement there, threaded through the nerves.

"In here," I whispered, cracking the stall door just enough to see his face, flushed and grinning.

The door clicked shut behind him, and we were alone. The air in the bathroom was cool and smelled faintly of industrial cleaner. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.

Aaron stepped closer, and I pulled him into the stall, closing the door behind us. The space was tight, barely enough room for both of us to stand, and that only made it hotter. He pressed his back against the wall, his dark eyes roaming over me as I leaned up, grazing my lips against his jaw, then his neck, feeling the rough scrape of stubble against my mouth.

"You took your time," I whispered, dragging my fingers down his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths beneath his thin white shirt.

"Had to make sure no one saw me," he said, his voice low and husky. He slid his hands under my skirt, rough palms gliding up the backs of my thighs. "You wearing those little thongs again?"

I bit my lip and nodded, shivering as his hands gripped the soft flesh of my ass, pulling me closer. My hips rolled against him, and he was already hard, thick and heavy against my stomach.

"Let me see," he said, leaning back, eyes dark and hungry.

I hitched my skirt up around my waist, exposing the thin scrap of pink stretched over my hips. Aaron sucked in a breath, fingers tracing the edge of the fabric.

"I like these," he murmured appreciatively. "You did this for me?"

I nodded, reaching for his belt, the leather cool and smooth against my fingers. I tugged it loose, then undid the button on his pants, his zipper rasping as I pulled it down.

Aaron's cock sprang free, thick and flushed and already leaking at the circumcised tip. I licked my lips, feeling a fresh wave of heat pool low in my belly. I dropped to my knees, the cold tile pressing into my skin as I wrapped my hand around the base of him, squeezing just enough to make him groan.

"Shh," I said, smirking up at him as I stroked him slowly. "You don't want someone to hear us, do you?"

Aaron bit his lip, his head falling back against the tiled wall as I leaned forward, my tongue sliding over the head of his cock, salty and hot against my tongue. I sucked him in deep, my mouth stretching around him as his hands threaded through my box braids, his breath coming faster now, harder.

"God," he breathed, hips jerking as I took him deeper, swallowing around him. "Fuck, Kerry..."

I pulled back with a wet pop, licking my lips as I looked up at him. "Your turn," I said, standing up and flipping my skirt up, leaning over to grab the pull up bar next to the toilet. "You want me to taste me, don't you?"

Aaron was behind me in an instant, his hands on my hips as he dropped to his knees, mouth dragging over the backs of my thighs. His fingers hooked around the waistband of my thong and pulled it down slowly, the fabric brushing over my skin as he let it drop to the floor.

"Spread your legs," he said, his breath hot against my ass.

I did, bracing my hands on the sink, biting down on my bottom lip to keep from crying out as his mouth covered me, tongue slipping between my folds, soft and slow, the tip flicking over my clit before he sucked it into his mouth.

My knees trembled, and Aaron's hands tightened on my hips, keeping me steady as he licked and sucked, his tongue moving in slow circles that made my head spin.

"Aaron," I gasped, my hips rocking against his mouth.

"Shh," he said, the sound muffled against my skin.

And he kept going, tongue thrusting inside me, his fingers digging into my hips as I bit down on my knuckles to keep from screaming. It didn't take long for my body to tense. I bit the inside of my cheek as my orgasm washed over me, and Aaron stood up suddenly, his cock head dragging over my slit as my juices dripped out of me.

"Amazing," he groaned, teeth grazing my shoulder as he pressed his cock along my slit, the heat of him sending little sparks through me.

My skirt was bunched up around my waist, my panties hanging around one ankle, and the cool air against my exposed skin only made the friction of his cock even more intense. Each thrust sent a shiver through me, his tip gliding over my clit, and I wished he would fuck me right there, but we'd already gone too far.

"Damn, Kerry," he breathed, his hands gripping my waist as he picked up the pace, his hips jerking faster, more desperate. "You feel so fucking good..."

I bit my lip, trying to stay quiet, but the little whimpers kept slipping out, bouncing off the tiled walls. The sound of his cock sliding against me, the wet, filthy sound of it, only made me push back against him harder, rolling my hips in rhythm with his thrusts.

"Shit," he said, his voice rough, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to leave bruises. "I'm close -- fuck, I'm gonna --"

I spun around, dropping to my knees just in time, mouth open as he gripped his cock and stroked himself, his jaw clenched, eyes locked on mine.

"Come on," I said, tongue flicking over my bottom lip, my gaze fixed on his hand working over himself. "I want it."

That was all it took. He shuddered, a low, guttural moan escaping his throat as he came, thick ropes of cum splattering across my tongue, hot and salty. The rest of it hit my cheek, a warm streak that dripped down to my jaw, and a few spurts landed across my chest and the hem of my shirt.

Aaron's eyes were glazed, his chest heaving, and he ran a shaky hand through his hair as he caught his breath. I swallowed, the taste of him lingering on my tongue as I licked my lips and grinned up at him.

"You're a menace," he said, his voice hoarse but full of that cocky, lopsided grin.

"And you love it," I said, grabbing a few paper towels from the dispenser and wiping my face, my shirt, and then him, stroking him one last time just to feel him twitch in my hand.

I stood up, straightened my skirt and panties and tossed the soiled paper towels in the trash. Aaron was still watching me, his chest heaving as he tucked himself back into his pants, eyes dark and smoldering.

I left first. He followed a minute later, and we settled back in our spot behind the encyclopedias, picking up the book we'd been reading before. I tried to focus on the words, but my mind kept replaying the way his cock felt in my mouth, the way he groaned my name as he came.

Aaron couldn't seem to focus either. He kept glancing at me, his fingers drumming against his thigh. Finally, he closed the book and leaned in, his hand sliding to the back of my neck as he pulled me in for a kiss -- slow and hungry.

"What are you doing tonight?" he asked, voice low. "Can you get away for a little bit?"

I kissed him back, heat flaring low in my belly at the thought of going further. He was thick and smooth and hot against my tongue, and all I could think about was how he felt grinding against me, how close he came to slipping inside.

"I can tell my parents I'm hanging out with friends," I said, nipping at his bottom lip. "My best friend Jackie will cover for me."

Aaron's thumb brushed my jaw, his eyes dark and glittering. "I can sneak you into the basement," he said. "My cousins told me that's how they got girls in there all the time without anyone knowing."

My breath hitched. "Won't your family be home? What if we get caught?"

Aaron's grin was slow and a little wicked. "The basement's got a bunch of rooms. We can always go in the boiler room."

It made sense. But my pulse was pounding now, not just from arousal but from the risk of it all. What if someone walked past? What if we were too loud? But the thought of his hands on me again, of feeling his mouth between my legs with no one around to hear me moan, was too tempting.

"Okay," I said, my voice shaky but firm. "Meet me by the elementary school. Back gate. Seven."

Aaron's gaze dropped to my mouth, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "I'll be there."

--

I told my parents I was going to Jackie's, and she agreed to cover for me after making me promise to tell her everything. I shaved every inch of skin smooth and soft, and slipped into a short denim skirt and a tight t-shirt that showed just enough cleavage to feel daring but not enough to make my mom suspicious. Underneath, I wore a black lace thong and bra set I'd saved for special occasions -- the kind my sister bought me on a trip to Victoria's Secret, hidden in the back of my drawer where nobody could find it.

I walked to the back gate of the elementary school, heart thudding in my chest. Aaron was already there, leaning against the chain-link fence, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. It was weird seeing him dressed like a regular guy, his arms bare and the tennis shoes on his feet a stark contrast to the conservative suit he usually wore. When he saw me, his lips curved into that slow, crooked grin.

"You ready?" he asked, voice low.

"Yeah," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

We kept to the shadows as we walked to his grandparents' house. The street was quiet, most of the houses dark. He led me around the back, through a side gate and down a narrow stairwell that ended at a basement door. He took out a key and unlocked it, glancing over his shoulder before pulling me inside.

The basement was big -- a series of rooms sectioned off by stone block walls. I could hear voices upstairs, muffled and distant, and the sound of a television playing in the living room over us. It was thrilling and my nerves made me jittery. It was kinda hot, sneaking around and I'd dreamed about having him like this since I realized that he thought I was cute. I took a deep breath to steady myself, as we reached a room in the furthest corner in the basement. The old boiler stood in the center of the room, cold and quiet now that the summer heat raged outside.

A small futon was shoved against the wall and he pulled it out so we could sit on it before pulling me on top of him. My thighs spread over his hips, denim skirt bunched up around my waist. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of sweat and laundry detergent, and in the dark, every sound felt amplified -- the creak of the futon beneath us, the ragged breaths slipping from both our mouths.

His hands gripped my ass, pulling me closer as he kissed me, rough and eager, his tongue sliding against mine. I rocked against him, feeling the hard line of his cock pressing against my soaked thong, the friction sending sparks up my spine. His breath hitched, and his hands slipped under my skirt, fingers hooking into the waistband of my thong and tugging it down to my knees. I lifted up just enough for him to pull it free, and then he was yanking his jeans down, just enough to free himself, his cock hot and heavy against my inner thigh.

"Come here," he said, his voice thick, his hands gripping my hips as he guided me down.

I gasped, feeling the thick head of him press against my entrance, and then he was inside me, stretching me open, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt. My breath shuddered, my hands flying to his shoulders as I adjusted to the feel of him, so deep I could feel every pulse, every twitch.

"Wow," I whispered, rolling my hips, feeling his cock slide against that sweet spot with every slow grind. "You feel so good."

Aaron groaned, his forehead dropping to my shoulder, his hands tightening on my hips as he thrust up, deeper, harder. "You're so tight," he muttered, his breath hot against my neck. "So perfect."

I was just starting to find a rhythm, my hips grinding down to meet every thrust, when the door to the basement creaked open.

We both went still. My heart knocked against my ribs, the sound so loud I was sure whoever was outside could hear it. Aaron throbbed inside me, still buried deep, and his eyes locked onto mine, dark and wide, his breath coming in shallow, shaky pants.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Slow. Heavy.

I clenched around him, my body betraying me, and Aaron's jaw clenched, his hands tightening on my hips as he tried to keep still -- but his hips rocked up, just a little, the thick head of him pressing against my cervix. I bit my lip, nails digging into his shoulders as the footsteps came closer, pausing right outside the door.

"Come on," a voice muttered, low and annoyed. A drawer slid open with a loud scrape, and something heavy clattered against the floor.

Aaron's grip on my hips tightened, his cock throbbing inside me, and I clenched around him again, my thighs trembling. He swallowed hard, his eyes still locked onto mine, and even though we both knew we shouldn't, his hips rocked up again -- a slow, deep thrust that had me biting down on my bottom lip to keep from moaning.

The person outside the door muttered something under their breath, the drawer slamming shut. We stayed frozen like that until finally, the footsteps retreated, the basement door creaking shut behind them.