Night with a Taskmaster – Excerpt


Image Credit: Frédéric Dufoor, by Catherine La Rose, 1943

Written by Adam Arotti. Adam Arotti is an author of Jewish-themed erotica, highlighting the erotic elements in biblical and Talmudic stories, as well as capitalizing on the taboos created by Orthodox Judaism. Fresh, provocative and educational, his anthology of biblical erotica is well under way. He lives on the West Coast with his wife and children. Visit his temporary home at to stay tuned for more excerpts, stories and submissions! For more Jewrotica writing by Adam Arotti, check out The Barren Wife, Through The Window, Under the Bed, Erotica, I Get – But Jewish Erotica?, Coming Out Of the Toy Closet, and The Anti-Vashti At My Purim Feast – Excerpt.

Rated R

Many events can be said to have been the triggering event leading to the Jewish exodus from Egypt. However, one of those is surely that of Moses’s first recorded experience as a prince of Egypt:

Now it came to pass in those days that Moses grew up and went out to his brothers and looked at their burdens, and he saw an Egyptian man striking a Hebrew man of his brothers. He turned this way and that way, and he saw that there was no man; so he struck the Egyptian and hid him in the sand. (Exodus, 2:11-12)

The following day, Moses discovered that, despite his best efforts, there had been witnesses to his action, which was promptly reported to Pharaoh. As a result, Moses was forced to flee Egypt, forever shedding the persona of an Egyptian prince. He was then led to his first direct encounter with G-d at the site of the burning bush, and was charged with the task of returning to Egypt to liberate the nascent Jewish nation.

Who was the Egyptian? Why was he striking the Hebrew, and more — why was that so unusual as to draw Moses’ wrath?


A rough knock on the door woke them.

“Hmmm…?” she quested sleepily towards her husband. But he was already disentangling himself from her warm arms and legs and the twisted blankets. He gently stroked her hair as he rose from the straw pallet on the floor.

She heard his feet padding to the door of their mud-stone hovel, then she heard the door being unlatched and opened.

At the edge of her consciousness she heard harsh Egyptian words, contrasted with the soft supplicating tone of her husband. The strong scent of sweet smoke wafted into the room, and her nose crinkled. The smell, she knew, belonged to an incense favored by many Egyptians. It was sold in abundance in the Egyptian marketplace, but was not available to Hebrews.

At some point – she couldn’t tell if it had been seconds or minutes, or even if it had happened at all – the door was closed once again, and she soon sensed her husband kneeling next to her, his hand resting on her hip.

“Mehmet is requiring my presence at the worksite. I have to go.”

Mehmet. As arrogant a taskmaster as they came. The few times that she had been to the worksite to bring food and drink to her husband during the summer days, Mehmet had been there, his conceit almost palpable. And always, his eyes would rake over her, burning through her clothing as if they weren’t there at all. In her half-sleep, she shuddered. She removed her hand from under the blanket to place it on her husband’s.

“It’s so early,” she murmured. “Is there no one else?”

“And who else would I volunteer to leave his family in the dead of night?” he replied, wearily. “No, I will go, and perhaps I will yet be able to return before daybreak.”

The door opened and closed, and he was gone.


Was it minutes? Was it hours? She did not know; her dreams had been deep and luscious.

Then he was back, although she had not heard the door being either opened or closed, so gentle had been his entry. Although her head was turned away from him, away from the door, she could sense his body sitting next to hers. He was watching her, she knew. He always liked to watch her.

As she stretched, she moved her leg to touch his thigh, letting him know that she knew that he was there. The movement caused the blanket to slip from her lower leg, and she felt the coolness of the air on her bare skin. She heard his sharp intake of breath, and then, moments later, she felt his tentative touch on her smooth skin. Gaining confidence, his fingers traveled over her calf, and then up her thigh, tracing the half-moon where her plump cheeks met the tops of her legs. Pleasure coursed through her brain as he placed his palm on her ass, his fingers splayed, stretching to gather as much of her supple flesh beneath his hand as he could.

His first hand was replaced with his second. She knew this because the new one was colder, not yet heated to the temperature of her body. The first hand he dragged down, into the deep valley between her smooth globes, pausing for one exquisite moment as a knuckle caught in her tiniest of orifices, before finally taking its place on her other cheek. As both hands kneaded her buttocks, she thought she felt something metallic, a ring, on a finger of his left hand. Somewhere inside her sleepy consciousness, a niggling thought asked, Why is he wearing a ring? He doesn’t have a ring. But his tender ministrations drove such trivial thoughts from her mind, as she surrendered to the bliss of his touch.

She was now warm, despite the disappearance of the blanket from the lower half of her body. When his hands would move in opposite directions, her cheeks would part, exposing her intimate parts to the chill of the air. Yet the chill itself heated her to such an extent that she could no longer abide any covering at all, and she cast the blanket from her like an impetuous child.

He paused, and she felt his gaze burning her. She tried to imagine his view: her feminine naked body lying on her stomach, her creamy and abundant breasts pressed against the pallet, their soft flesh spilling out from under her to the sides. Her thighs slightly spread, with a glimpse of the treasures between them winking up at him. Her hands, raised up, forming a protective border around her head, her face turned towards her shoulder, her lustrous dark hair splayed over the head cushion. She knew she was beautiful, and that she presented an enticing figure to him.

His hands withdrew, and she almost cried out in disappointment. But it was only for a moment, and then she felt movement below her waist, followed by soft warm touches on her ass. Kisses! Not touches, but kisses! This was new! And not at all objectionable! She definitely felt his lips, occasionally punctuated by his darting tongue, moving in gradually smaller concentric circles to …surely not there! Yes, there! In a wave of blissful awareness, she felt herself being thoroughly kissed on and in her small and daintily-puckered hole.

Everything was so electrifying, so new and different. What had inspired this novel behavior?

She was still marveling at her husband’s newfound creativity when he knelt and lay atop her, stretching his body over hers. Then, his chin against her ear, he bent his head and gently sucked her earlobe into his mouth. He breathed deeply, inhaling her, and then exhaling, his hot, moist breath enveloping the side of her flushed face.

And she smelled the acrid scent of stale, sweet smoke.

A cold knot curled in her lower abdomen as she came instantly and fully awake, her every muscle tensing, suddenly realizing that the chin resting above her ear bore no beard. And that her husband’s chin always nuzzled her neck when he lay on her – not the top of her ear.

Which meant that the aroused and virile male who had been ravishing her all this time was not her husband.

And she instantly understood. It could be only one.



Night with a Taskmaster will soon be available on Be sure to read the complete version, along with the accompanying discussion, to learn of the role that this night played in Moses’ emergence as the Jewish savior, and the ultimate liberation of the Jewish people from Egyptian bondage. Sign up to for updates regarding Night with a Taskmaster’s release!