Written by Karalyn Dane. For more Jewrotica pieces by Karalyn, check out Masochism’s Jewish Roots.
My husband knows me like Adam knew Eve. Biblically. We keep a treasure chest of costumes in our bedroom, leather-bound. A storybook of tales.
I am Sarai, forced into Pharaoh’s harem. He is Abraham, tying me up and carting me away. I laugh at our attempts at conception.
He is Moses, parting my legs like the Red Sea. I am Miriam, swaying my hips to the beat of my tambourine.
I am the wife of Potiphar, seducing him like the Joseph of my dreams, but he does not flee, leaving me with nothing but a Technicolor coat in my arms. Stripping off his coat is just the beginning.
I am Rebekah, allowing him to drink from my pitcher. He adorns my arms with bracelets, my ears with golden rings. He is Isaac, mining my well for spring water, which he finds in abundance.
When I am Rachel, hiding under the bed as he has his way with my sister, I try not to be jealous, but to encourage him. He always finds his way back to me. And this time, I keep the mandrake cocktail all to myself. I feed the aphrodisiac to him from my lips one sip at a time.
I am Rahab, letting him part the curtains of my flesh. I hide him there, between my thighs. I am salvation.
I play the harlot, dressing up like Tamar. I am food and life, a date palm for his shade. I claim him as mine.
I am Dinah, defiled victim and beloved. He is my captor and avenging angel.
I stroke his hair in his sleep like the temptress Delilah. I am his downfall.
Like Ruth I curl up at his feet and when he rises I touch his fingers to my hair, meek and submissive.
I bathe naked in the shower, leaving door and window open, a trail of lingerie to lead him home. Like Bathsheba I call him to me, wet, dancing on rooftops. He cannot resist me the beads of moisture on my skin.
When he’s cold or sick I am Avishag, consummate bedwarmer, playmate.
I am one of King Solomon’s many wives. I am any of his harem, I am all of them. I am the Queen of Sheba, pharaoh’s daughter, he anoints me in the spices I bring from home. A cinnamon trail.
I am Esther. Anointed one. Oiled up and ready. Seductress, temptress, savior of my people. I touch his scepter. He offers me half his kingdom. I bow before him, mouth open, and accept his gifts.
I speak the words of these stories with my tongue, my lips, my mouth, and they become a part of me. I am all these women, I am none of them. They live in me. Biblically.
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