In Total Darkness

Written by Noa. Noa is a first-time Jewrotica writer.

“Hello. Good Shabbos.”

“Good Shabbos yourself. Wow, that’s bright.”

“Still awake? You didn’t give up on me?”

“Three more minutes and it would have been in question.” A beat. “Are they both asleep?”

“Would I be here otherwise?”

“What took so long?”

“Ugh. Don’t even start. I had to read One Fish, Two Fish a thousand times. And that is a long book.”

There’s a soft laugh. “You know, if you read them a thousand books a night, they’re going to grow up to be awful tyrants.”

“Yes, but if I only read nine hundred and ninety nine, they’ll end up mass murderers, telling their psychologists all about how their parents had no time for them growing up.”

“That must be hard for you.” A pause. “Oh no, don’t say –”

“No, but I’ve got something else that’s hard for –”

“Oh God, I married a fourteen-year-old manchild.”

The bed springs creak. “Am I exhausted or what. Let’s get this over with.”

“Aww, you always know what a woman wants to hear.”

“Pffft. Too tired to flirt. Come here and kiss me.”

“Mmm.”

“What’s all this clothing in the way? Let’s get this off of you.”

“And you.”

“All right.”

“Okay, let’s –”

“Here, turn –”

“I got it –”

“Okay, there.”

“You’re stuck here.”

“There.”

“Okay. Here, help me with my necklace.”

“No, leave it on.”

“Hmm. If you want.”

“This looks just how I pictured it. That’s a nice necklace. I got that for you, right?”

“Yeah, for our anniversary last year.”

“I have good taste.”

“Your mother probably helped you pick it out.”

“Please don’t talk about my mother right now.”

“Mmm. Deal.”

“I was thinking about this all throughout dinner. I kept looking at you, waiting for this moment, thinking, Please, keep that necklace on.”

“I noticed. Don’t look at me like that next time we have guests! I’m trying to be a hostess and meanwhile you’re looking like you want to –” cough – “ahem, shtup me on the dining room table. It’s embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?”

“It’s indiscreet.”

“What do you have to be embarrassed about? Are you embarrassed by this?”

“Ohhhh.”

“Or this?”

“Ahhhh.”

“Turn around.” A pause.

“That’s it. That’s exactly the look you were giving me during dinner.”

“Funny, this is exactly how I was imagining you looking during dinner.”

“Mmmm.”

“Mmmm.”

“Oh, hey, look, it’s not even 9:30. If we skipped the sex and went straight to bed, we could get ten straight hours of sleep.”

“Hmm. That sounds great, let’s do that.”

“Annnd there’s some more of that sweet-talking charm I love.”

A loud, exaggerated yawn. “Hey, it was your idea, not – ah! Ohhhh. Okay, you have my – ohhhh – full attention.”

A beat. A soft pop. “Yeah. I can tell.”

“Oh, don’t stop on my account. Yeah. Ohhhh.”

A few minutes of soft moans, then, “Okay, okay. Stop. Stop. Ahhh.”

Another pop. “Well?” Then a shriek, and a laugh. “Ow, my shoulder! Be careful – What are you – oh!”

A pause. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m repaying –” pause – “the –” pause –

“Oh my God!”

“– favor. Are you done interrupting me?”

“Yes, I’m done, just keep – ohhhh – yessss – ”

A few more minutes in this vein –

“Ahhhh – ohhhh! Ohhhh – what? Are you – Are you stopping? What are you doing?”

“Mmm.”

“Argh! I was so close!”

“Ahh, don’t hate me.”

“I do, I hate you.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I had to stop.” A beat. “I wanted to see your face.”

“Oh.” Pause. “Damn it. How can I stay mad at you when you go and say things like that?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. Mmph! Mmm.”

“Now get over here already.”

“Here –”

“Here –”

“Just –”

“Got it –”

And, in unison, “Ahhhh.”

“Ahhh –”

“Ohhh –”

“Yeah –”

“Yesss –”

A grunt.

“Oh, do that again.”

“That?”

“Yes, that, again. Ahhh. Again, yes, ahhh – oh, no.”

“What’s wrong?”

“The soup. I left it on the counter.”

“And you just thought about it now?”

“It just popped into my head!”

“Well, we can get it later.”

“Okay. Mmm.”

“Ahhh.”

“I’m sorry, I just can’t concentrate.”

“Can’t it wait until after you’ve reached –”

“I’m not going to reach anywhere with this soup thing hanging over me.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I never kid.”

“You kid a lot.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” A quick rustling sound accompanies this statement.

“You’re punishing me for not finishing you off before.”

“I’m not, I promise. I’ll be right back. You won’t even know I’m gone.”

“I already know you’re gone!”

No response.

Less than a minute later, “Okay. It’s all settled.”

“Good. Now. Do I have to tie you to the bed in order to make sure you stay?”

“Mmmm, keep talking.”

“I – oh, no good. I forgot. Shabbos. No knots.”

“Good point.”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“Maybe tomorrow I’ll tie you to the bed.”

A beat, then, together, “Nisht Shabbos geret.”

And laughter.

“Chas v’shalom.”

“Okay, enough.”

“As you wish.”

“Now – Oh. Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“No more – ahhh – talking.”

“Mmmm.”

“Mmmm.”

“Ahhhh.”

“Wait, shift like this –”

“This?”

“Ahhh, yes –”

“Mmmm –”

“Yes –”

More sounds. Soft pants.

“Unf – I can’t, I need you to –”

“Better?”

“Ohhhh –”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes. Don’t stop –”

“I’m not stopping –”

“Keep –”

“I’m right here –”

“Ohhh –”

“Ohhh –”

The voices become indistinguishable, groaning and gasping, and finally, screaming.

Then, more pants.

“Ahhhh.”

“Mmmm.”

“Good night.”

“I can’t breathe.”

“I’m too comfortable to move.”

“You’re crushing me.”

“Okay, okay.” Pause. “You want help with that necklace now?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Clink. “I do have good taste.”

“I’m not going to argue with that.”

“Good night.”

“Enjoy your nine hours of sleep. Hope it was worth the trouble.”

“Mmm. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Good Shabbos.”

“Good Shabbos yourself.”