Chapter 2

“Oh, I feel human again!” I laughed as I showered, only to have the curtain pulled back and a very naked Becca join me.

“Well, that’s one way of putting it!” she told me, “I need to be clean again, I know that. Pissing my panties ain’t exactly my idea of a great date.”

“Yes, I imagine that was as awkward for you as it was for me. What’s Taslima doing, by the way?” I asked Becca, who winked.

“Reheating the meal to split three ways, of course! Thankfully, there’s nothing that we ordered that was forbidden her, though she’s hungry enough that I doubt that it would stop her right now,” Becca smiled now as she began washing me without invitation, prompting me to lather her up, too.

“I suppose that any ‘Me, Too,’ concerns also went out the window when you stripped and joined me under the jets,” I teased her now.

“Oh, honey ... I decided to fuck you long before this shower,” Becca told me with an ardent French kiss.

“That fast ... I doubt that is your norm, especially in the wake of coronavirus. That’s rather flattering,” I remarked.

“Yeah, that tends to sadly put a damper on the whole slutty fun thing,” Becca teased me as she caressed my cock and knelt to kiss it.

“Were you all that slutty back then?” I asked her with some skepticism...

While I would have approved of promiscuity myself, I knew that mine was a minority view. To be frank, someone with a father in the Nation of Islam was likely to have at least some hang-ups. It would be a lot of baggage, far more than a Reform Jew would have, probably closer to what a Mormon would have. I was just glad that she hadn’t apparently absorbed her father’s quite likely anti-Semitism. It wasn’t exactly a secret how Louis Farrakhan and his outfit felt about Jews like me. She must have taken more after her Methodist mother ... and we in the Faith had been very active in the civil rights movement, hadn’t we?

“Meh, depends on my mood. Little secret about women. Most of us have our slutty moments and prudish ones. You just have to know when to catch us if you want some booty. It varies not only from one girl to the next, but one month to the next as well. Just sayin’. Though some girls are wilder than others. I’d call myself rather less behaved than my sisters. My elder sister went Catholic and became a nun! The other one’s a parson’s wife. So ... yeah, I’m the hellcat,” Becca gave me a look that made it clear that she wasn’t kidding.

“Oh, my, what a Thanksgiving meal that must be! Big sister is an actual sister and the other one’s probably practicing her organ work, if the stereotypes are true. Or else preparing a Sunday School lesson plan. And probably the same questions about marriage that I get at home from my folks. Especially from my mother. I don’t know too much about your mom, but mine fits the classic Jewish mother trope to a tee. And she really, really, wants to be a proper Jewish grandma, too!” I chuckled while Becca started sucking my cock in earnest.

“Yes, well, Mom’s hypersensitive about the divorce, especially since Kathy’s church condemns it and it’s not exactly something that most Christians approve, anyway. Of course, she never wed again, so there is that, but yeah, she’s touchy about that. She’s also eager to get me married off to someone like ‘Parson Bob,’ as she likes to call her son-in-law behind his back. She likes him, even if she thinks him a bit pussywhipped. She’s not wrong about that, either. Which is exactly the wrong sort of man for me,” Becca stopped sucking me long enough to explain.

“Not into the milquetoast men?” I probed while fucking her pretty face for what it was worth.

Becca quit sucking me again, just long enough to shake her head, “Ugh. Gross. Get me a guy with some balls! I don’t care if he’s black or white or brown or whatever ... just give him a fucking backbone!”

I laughed again while she stood up and bent over to present me with her two ready, wet, and hot openings. I grabbed the water-based lube that I kept in the shower (just in case) and slid into Becca from the back, feeling a bit nervous because it was bareback. Then again, we’d survived coronavirus. Next to that, what was a little herpes or whatever? Hell, at this rate, I might get shot tomorrow with the rising tide of political violence. At least freestyle sex brought some pleasure to the mix. I just hoped that if I knocked her up, the world improved in the meantime.