Written by Dirty Di. This piece is the continuation of Holiday Indulgence – Shavuot (Part 1 of 3).
For more by Dirty Di, check out Astray and Deborah and Aviva.
Everything was going smoothly. During the short morning briefings she randomly had with her people, she didn’t see anyone exceedingly unmotivated; everyone was still in their high spirits even after twenty days of relentless work. And after the mandatory Monday meeting, she was satisfied with the overall outcome so far. Some did look somewhat tired, but that was to be expected.
For some reason – you know the reason, you idiot – Hannah had stopped being obnoxious altogether and limited her contact with Malka for strictly necessary issues. She was polite and amiable, but all of her previous playfulness was gone. Malka couldn’t say she was happy about that, and more often than not, she caught herself staring at the auditor, as if by sheer wanting the other woman would suddenly change her mind and start bickering again.
…
Another week passed. A big black 21 on a whiteboard hung up on the wall of her office. This meant, on one hand, that they’d been working non-stop for thirty days now. And on the other, that there were twenty-one more days remaining for the Sinai Assignment to come to completion; twenty-one days and she would finally get rid of the auditor for good. And if she was to be completely honest with herself, Malka was not sure how she was supposed to feel about that fact. Scolding herself for allowing such banal subject to creep into her mind at a time like this, she didn’t hear said auditor walk to her desk.
“Let’s go to lunch.”
“I thought we–”
“Yes, yes, I know that we agreed not to talk to each other, but I’m bored, ok? This is New York City and I can’t believe I’m actually bored. So get your ass off the chair for once, and come enjoy the city with me.”
Malka cringed a little at the vulgar word, before answering. “I don’t know if you are aware, Miss Dayan, that we are in the middle of a–”
“Listen to me, Malka,” Hannah said, grabbing the woman by her shoulders, forcing her to face her. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me that you honestly believe something bad is going to happen is you leave this building for a couple of hours.”
Malka couldn’t say she did.
…
“So… you and Bradley,” Malka asked, wondering if anything had changed since the last time they had that conversation.
“So you and Bradley,” Hannah answered, smirking.
“I thought we covered the subject.”
“No, I asked and you deflected. Just like you are doing again right now.”
“That pretty much covers it for me.”
“What do you see in him, anyway?” Hannah asked, genuinely curious.
“If you must know… he does the job,” she said, nonchalantly.
“He’s like, twelve! I know he has this Ferris Buller, bad-boy aura, but I’m sure you could get someone better.”
“First of all, he is twenty-three, and second, what makes you think I don’t?”
“Really?” She said, raising an eyebrow. “Because you have a neon sign above your forehead that says ‘unsatisfied’. Which makes me believe Bradley just isn’t enough, is he?”
“Is that your way of telling me I need to ‘get laid’?” she asked, marking the quotes with her hands.
“Hey, lady, if the shoe fits… But I’m not talking just about sex, if you must know.”
Malka stared at Hannah’s impossibly green eyes pondering the possibilities that had just arisen. She ran a hand through her hair not breaking eye contact, finding herself, again, deciding if she should humor these thoughts or just drop the subject altogether. Hannah’s hand crept across the table and grazed Malka’s knuckles startling her, but she left the hand in place.
“This is highly inappropriate,” she muttered.
“Yes, you say that a lot,” Hannah said with a full-on smile, but changed the subject anyway. Her hand didn’t move until the food arrived, leaving Malka missing the contact.
And that night, when Bradley approached Malka so they would leave together as they did almost every week, she pushed him away him without even a glance; she didn’t want to see or deal with the pout she knew was forming on her assistant’s mouth. That didn’t mean she missed Hannah’s smile, as the auditor saw Bradley being rejected.
…
“It’s official; I’ve been in New York for a month now,” Hannah announced brightly as she entered Malka’s office the next day. “Well, one month and one day, to be exact. We should celebrate.”
“And how do you propose we accomplish such task, Miss Dayan?” Malka asked, somewhat amused with Hannah’s enthusiasm over such menial issue.
“Well, for starters, Miss Berkovich,” she said, closing the space between them, forcing Malka to take a few steps back towards the wall behind her, “we should drop the formalities.”
Malka was trapped between Hannah and the wall, chest to chest, and almost lips to lips. She could smell Hannah’s breath, feel it caress her cheeks, her frame pulling tighter against her and emptying all air she had left inside.
“What do you say we go camping this weekend? We can make a bonfire,” Hannah suggested, her lips hovering Malka’s but never touching them.
“I don’t go camping; Miss Dayan,” she said, emphasizing the title as much as she could with a breathless whisper.
“I figured. We wouldn’t want your perfect manicure to get ruined, would we?” Hannah said, her hand trailing through Malka’s cheek, making her use all her self control not to shiver. She failed.
“Then let’s have a picnic, we don’t have to camp, just spent the day frolicking on the grass.”
Malka said nothing, feeling her brain turn to mush.
“Great! Pick me up on Sunday at ten, we’ll walk to the park,” Hannah said chirpily, planting a long, slow, chaste kiss on the corner of Malka’s mouth. Just like that, she turned around, leaving Malka flustered and confused.
Malka wanted to argue. She wanted to say that her place was actually closer to the park than Hannah’s hotel, and that it would be actually more practical for her to arrive to Malka’s and not the other way around. Something inside her told her that was not the issue she should be arguing about; she should be focusing on the fact that she apparently agreed to go out on a playdate in the park; but if there was something you could say about Malka Berkovich was that she was a pragmatic woman. She measured her battles and chose those she could win. This one, she knew, was not one of those.
But she was not going to let Hannah get away with winning, even if the battlefield was just inside her head, and the other woman was probably totally oblivious of the battle; she resolutely walked back to her desk, ignoring Hannah and not thinking at all of what just happened. But when Hannah approached her to say goodbye, she noticed it was almost seven o’clock, and that she had been reading the same paragraph over and over for the past several hours.
“I have to go,” Hannah said, with a hint of regret. “I promised my brother I would visit his friends. They are having special Shabbat dinner for me and I can’t cancel it again, they’ve been inviting me since I got here. Why don’t you come with me?”
Against everything Malka would have believed, she wanted to spend more time with Hannah. But she also knew she needed some time apart from the woman if she was to sort out what the hell was happening. Malka didn’t do relationships, and going to a family dinner sounded like too much a commitment to her. Then again, so did having a picnic, but she shrugged that thought aside as she excused herself, arguing some previous engagement.
…
Malka was conflicted. A part of her wanted to indulge Hannah and enjoy the picnic, but a huge other part of her was more concerned over how the hell she was going to sit down on the plaid blanket –yes, she owned a plaid picnic blanket and even the matching basket to go with it– laid in front of her. And even though Hannah found a spot behind a small mound, relatively hidden from prying eyes, Malka did still not like the idea of leaving her body exposed in such indecent manner.
In hindsight, wearing skirt and heel boots was not the greatest choice for a picnic, but she was so concerned trying to look absolutely pristine, that she actually forgot what she was getting dressed for.
Hannah’s chuckle brought her back to reality; she saw the other woman take off her jacket and offer it to her.
“So you can sit down, you know. And cover your lady bits.”
“Thank you,” she said in a dignified tone as if this was what she was expecting Hannah to do all along, and sat down covering her crossed legs with the still warm garment.
“Only you would think that was an acceptable attire for a picnic, counselor,” Hannah smirked, lying flat next to her, facing the sky.
…
She wasn’t sure how it happened, and she sure as hell wasn’t expecting the outcome. Ok, maybe she was hopefully expecting it, but never in her life would she be caught saying she wanted to kiss Hannah Dayan.
So it really was a surprise when she actually found herself on top of Hannah, kissing her as if the world was going to end. Malka kissed as she did everything in her life, full of passion and determination, taking control of the situation. Even if it wasn’t an ideal situation, with the whole clothing debacle, she would control the outcome, the same way she did with everything else.
Her hands were placed idly on each side of the blonde’s head to avoid any kind of reproachable indecency on public space. But her mouth? Oh, her mouth was relentless. Her lips grazed against Hannah’s skin while her teeth bit and nibbled wherever they could reach, and her tongue danced inside Hannah’s mouth. It was messy, sloppy and deprived of any kind of finesse, but Malka couldn’t be bothered to care, especially not when it was eliciting such guttural moans from the other woman.
…
“I’m sorry we didn’t get to light the fire,” Malka said, surprised she actually meant it. She was sitting on the blanket, enjoying the warm breeze, Hannah lying by her side with her face on Malka’s lap.
“Well, I’d like to believe we did get to celebrate Rabbi Akiva’s victory or something. Kinda,” Hannah replied. “And who needs fire with that mouth of yours.”
“Sometimes I swear I’m actually talking to a thirteen-year-old boy,” Malka said with a long, suffering sigh. “I have Board meeting at seven am, we should get going.”
Hannah grunted in disappointment, but helped the lawyer put everything away anyway.
They walked in comfortable silence towards Hannah’s hotel. It’s the right thing to do, Malka said to herself. After all, she’s the local and the other woman may get lost in the chaos that is New York.
When they arrived to the hotel, she had no idea if she was supposed to go up with Hannah, or even if she wanted to do it; thankfully, Hannah made the decision for her, giving Malka a chaste kiss on the cheek and bidding her farewell.
“See you tomorrow.”
“Yes. Good bye.”
Celebrating 10 Years & Marking the End of An Amazing Project
Celebrating 10 Years & Marking the End of An Amazing Project
While many people fear the “sex talk,” Jewrotica offers an opportunity for writers and audiences to speak about sexuality in a open and safe space. When I attended a Jewrotica reading, I heard stories that reminded me that love takes many forms, and that expressing it is a vital part of who we are as a people.
At Jewrotica’s Evening of Bedside Readings, students declaimed monologues on sexual encounters that had a Jewish twist. At Columbia/Barnard Hillel, the speakers pushed their own boundaries by performing a range of explicit narratives that challenged how the audience thought of the relationship to Judaism and sex. During the speakers’ preparation, the arguments about which narratives would be appropriate forced students to take a stand and voice their opinion on their own beliefs about Judaism an… Read more
Jewrotica is inspiring Jews and erotica with holiness and coolness, and is the pride of progressive Judaism. Jewrotica – awesome!
Jewrotica rocks. It’s funny, it’s informative, it’s sexy, it’s interesting. Check it out!
I attended and participated in last month’s Jewrotica event. The engaging performers and Ayo, our inviting host, inspired the audience to feel like one big community. What a great way to inspire our community to embrace sex as a beautiful thing that can be fun, exciting, sacred, sensual, ridiculous, scary and everything in between!
You may not tell your mom that you’re going to a live Jewrotica reading (or whatever clever name you will dub these events) but you will tell your friends. However, both would be jealous if they find out that they missed it. I think it will only be a matter of time before Jewrotica helps us reclaim the term “Dirty Jew” the way rap music has done for “The ‘N’ Word.” I know I am now proud to be a Dirty Jew!
My opinion on Jewrotica is: It’s sexy. It’s awesome. It’s Judaism to the next level. It’s what we should all be getting into!
Jewrotica was everything I had dreamed of and more: sexy attendees, tantalizing confessions, and well-written literature to boot! More importantly, it empowers us Jews to reach inside and own our sexy selves and heritage!
Jewrotica is a great way to ask interesting questions about the interplay between sensuality and Jewish wisdom. Check it out.
Bedside Reading with Jewrotica was funny, sexy, and hot all at once. The readings were honest about all kinds of sexuality, but the highlight of the evening was definitely the confessions, written by audience participants. Nobody knew who wrote them, and most were tell-alls that would make your bubbe blush. Unless your bubbe was very, very cool. Then maybe she’d make YOU blush!
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