Written by Maxwell Bauman. Maxwell is the Editor-in-Chief of Door Is A Jar literary magazine. He is an okay Jewish boy with a collection of more than 60 different versions of the Kama Sutra spanning 9 languages. To read more of Maxwell’s writing on Jewrotica, check out his piece Shiksa Goddess and Putzes at an Exhibition.
The sun had set and together we lit the candles. She removed her clothes, secured her blindfold and lay down in front of the window. I took the menorah and stood at her side. It would be a celebration of lights she wouldn’t be able to see. The yellow flame began to melt the surrounding wax. I tipped the menorah slightly to the side and a single bead of red wax dripped onto the back of her open palm. Her fingers trembled.
I stepped up onto the bed and stood over her with the menorah in front of me. The flame flickered and the silver branches shined. I closed my eyes and felt the heat on my face. I looked down at her. Her breathing became faster and she bit her lower lip. She was anxious. I shushed her. “We’re just getting started.”
I unleashed the full stream of the nine candles onto her chest like a hot rake. She howled and writhed back and forth as the wax coated over her nipples and flowed down between the indentations of her ribs like rain flowing from the mountains into the valley. The flow pooled the sleek substance in her abdomen. Her nostrils flared. Her body quivered and her hips rolled.
The sight of her in the candlelight sent a wave fire through my body. A spurt of white wax erupted from my candle. It flew into the air and splashed down across her torso. The white mixed with the red and glowed pink in the light. I touched the cooled wax with my fingertips as her breathing relaxed. A calm smile spread across her face. The candlelight began to wane, but our passion remained kindled.
0 comments