After I opened the restaurant, I stopped going out so much, stopped bringing home women, stopped responding to dating app messages. I lacked the time and the energy, but mostly the motivation. Not when I had my professional dreams in my hands and this beautiful dream of a woman nearby.

Now, she runs her tongue along my lips like she might run her tongue between my legs, and I ache for her there.

“Hollywood, please.” I gasp as she presses her knuckle to my clit through too many layers of clothing. Without waiting for her response, I pop the button on my pants and push them down. Her hands tangle with mine and together we get them past my ass, but with her between my legs, they can’t go any further.

“This is fine,” she says, tugging a bit more. “We can do this. I’ve got this.”

“Yeah. You do,” I assure her. I arch toward her, begging for contact, throbbing in anticipation.

She bends over me while her knuckle trails over my stomach and tugs at the waistband of my underwear. “Do you like this?” she asks as the pad of her finger skims over my lips. She bites the inside of her cheek before burying her face in my neck.

“Don’t get shy on me now, Hollywood,” I whisper.

Her finger moves in slow circles over me. The movement is too tortuously slow to get me off but I’m so revved up it’s close anyway. My legs shake with each pass of her hand; I grasp for something to do other than grab her ass or rub her breasts, but I can’t bring myself to break contact. Like the second I stop touching her I’ll wake up from this dream, wrapped in sweaty bedsheets and very much alone.

The windows have fogged up. Even if someone came through this dead-end alley and peeked into this car, they wouldn’t be able to make out more than just shapes. But she’s still more exposed than I am. “Let me suck you?” I ask, my hands on her breasts.

She nods and I pull her bra down. Her nipples are wide and the softest pink and as I take one in my mouth her rhythm between my legs falters.

“Amy,” she says, like someone else might swear. “Teeth? Please?” she asks. “Bite me.” She asks so quietly, as if this request should somehow embarrass her, but it just makes me more wild for her, so that I have to be careful in my eagerness to do as she wishes.

“You like that?” I ask, leaving gentle teeth marks around her nipple. For long minutes, we’re slow. She rubs my wetness over my clit; her fingers explore my pussy. I coax soft cries from her with my teeth and tongue. But every time I try to move my hands between her legs, she moves away.

“Stop it,” she says, and drags her tongue between my breasts. I arch into her.

She pulls at my underwear until I lift my hips.