Page 62 of Naughty Nelle

Shabbat dinner was always an extravagant multi-course meal. It began with the challah, a delicious egg bread, being passed around the table and was followed by Grandma’s melt-in-your-mouth matzo ball soup, and my mother’s scrumptious brisket—a secret recipe she guarded with her life. The tantalizing aroma of the meal to come wafted in the air.

“What’s your favorite TV show?” asked one of the twins while Rosa circled the table and served the soup.

“SpongeBob,” replied Jennifer, smiling.

What was with her and that stupid cartoon character? My brows furrowed, but she’d definitely earned brownie points with the obnoxious twins. My nephews’ faces lit up like light bulbs.

“Cool beans! That’s our favorite too!”

“Maybe you can watch it with us after dinner,” chimed the other little devil.

My sister shot him a dirty look. “You know darn well we don’t watch TV on Shabbat, Jonathan.”

The little boy frowned. He tore off a large piece of his challah in frustration and hurled it at his mother. It hit her in the face.

“Do something about him!” she yelled at my brother-in-law after stuffing the fragment into her mouth.

He shrugged, too busy eating his soup.

Fuming, my sister leaped out of her chair and dragged Jonathan out of the dining room. The little brat screamed. I almost felt sorry for him.

“Meanie,” shouted the other twin, clanging his soup spoon on the table.

Grandma dramatically pounded her heart. “Oy! Such tsuris! Your mother’s become such a klafte.”

Klaftewas the Yiddish word for “bitch.” I inwardly cringed. I was thankful that Jennifer didn’t understand a word of Yiddish but regretful that she had to put up with our Shabbat shenanigans. I turned to look at her. To my surprise, she seemed amused.

“What’s this?” she asked me as Rosa ladled the steamy broth into her bowl, followed by two big dumpling-like balls.

“Matzo ball soup. It’s delicious.”

My eyes stayed focused on her as she scooped up a matzo ball into her spoon. She pursed her lush lips and blew on it and then she put the delectable ball to her mouth. Her lips parted and then descended onto to it. I desperately wanted her lips on my balls and fantasized what they would feel like in her mouth. So good. So fucking good. Heat pooled inside them. I squirmed in my chair, rubbing my cock and nuts on the cushion.

“Mmm,” moaned Jennifer as she consumed the matzo ball.

“Mmm,” I repeated, my balls mentally rolling around in her mouth.

And then she swallowed. Her eyes closed in ecstasy. I hastily took off my jacket. Had Rosa turned the heat up?

She complimented my mother. “Helen, these taste soooo good.” Her deft velvet tongue traced her upper lip.

Holy shitballs! I wanted to zip down my fly. My cock was raging. This girl had given me a major fucking hard-on. There was no way I could sit here any longer without coming in my pants. I jumped up from my chair.

“I’ll be right back.” I hurried out of the dining room before anyone could see the pitched tent between my legs and practically ran to the nearest guest bathroom. I couldn’t get my pants down fast enough. My full-on erection sprung from my boxers. Without wasting a second, I fisted my fingers around it and stroked it hard, up and down. Faster and faster. Harder and harder. In my head, I imagined Jennifer’s sensuous mouth wrapped around it, following my hand, as I raced toward orgasm. Groans escaped my throat; my cock was on fire; I was desperate to come. I squeezed my eyes shut and picked up my pace. I was close. So, so close. My face contorted; my heart raced like a Ferrari, and my cock filled up like a glass of champagne. And then with a jerk and a grunt, I exploded. All over my hands. Such a massive release of power. I sighed with relief and opened my eyes. Standing at the doorway was Jennifer, her body a stone statue and her mouth a frozen wide “O.”

Holy, holy fuck!

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