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By Rafael Zahav
The last sun rays invade my window without curtains, brightening the whole environment in a golden red hue of the evening. A narrow single bed next to it keeps company with a small table bedside it, with a jug of water that I will quench the thirst at night, on the right side, near the door, there is a small closet with few pieces of clothing and an attached bathroom which gives me the least privacy.
My room is modest, just like the way we, the Zahav, took life.My family is small,it is only my parents, who are already very old, and I, the only son and suffocated to the level of unthinking by a father and a mother so protective that she sometimes becomes insane.
We live in an old townhouse in the Ajami neighborhood of Tel-Aviv-Israel, since I was a child. This was my grandmother's house, which was inherited by my parents, and when I get married it will inevitably be mine, since I have also become part of this environment, like the cachectic dressers and the curtains worn by time.
My mother yells from the hallway, pulling me out of the lethargy I've been since last night.
"Rafael, it's been more than two hours since you've been in the room, and so far, nothing of you has moved and done the favor that Rabbi Isaac asked."
"Yes, I'm on my way,Mrs.Sophia."
I stunned myself: "God, does it cost me to wait just a little longer, without having to collapse the roof of the house in my head?"
I answeredmyself: "Of course it costs, if she waited patiently and did not leave running over everything, acting like crazy, this would not be Mrs.Sophia Zahav."
I right the payot[1] in front of the bathroom mirror, rolling it with my fingers and following the basic sequence of my daily clothes: I put the tsitsit[2] under a white shirt, I close my pantszipper, put the black wool suit over my back and close the mother-of-pearl buttons unhurriedly, I cover my shoulders with the tallit[3] and fit my old black kippah[4],which I've got from my uncle Daniel, in my head. Daniel is my father's brother.
I give one last check in the mirror and I think there is no way for me to postpone my task anymore, however, I still escape from the reality that awaits me and I sit on the bed for a few minutes, reminding myself the day I saw Micah for the first time.
Ironically, it was on Yom Kippur, the day of Forgiveness, one of the most important dates for us, Jews. We were all in the synagogue, fasting and praying intensely, paying attention to Rabbi Isaac, who had finished declaring the Vidui, a confession, and Al Chet, a list of transgressions between man and God and man and his fellow man. I was talking distractedly for a brief break between prayers, when suddenly, in the crowd, his eyes rested on mine, piercing my soul.
There were so many people around, men dressed formally in their suits and kippah, women elegantly parading their new dresses, but I could no longer hear any voice, or see or speak a word that made any sense. In a little fraction of second, I became a piece of irrational flesh, my retina was invaded by the sight of his striking face, it was impossible not to stop looking at him, I just felt my heart beating like a drum without time every movement his feet made as he came toward me.
He stood next to Rabbi Isaac, great as a pagan God, irritatingly comfortable on his skin, doubled his lips in a discreet smile and stood beside him in silence, making me awkwardly affected by his magnetic presence.
While my father was talking to the rabbi, I looked at him sidelong, observing every detail of his form: his slightly tanned brown skin, his hair without the peyotes, his brown hair waved at the tips, touching his shoulders, hisunshaven face gave him a masculine air, his marked eyebrows and long eyelashes were framing his light gray eyes with a light-brown-colored bow near the pupil... rare, surprising, like a cat's iris, I looked down at his tall, slender and visibly athleticbody that I could notice even hidden under an austere suit, and when I retraced all the way back, I came upon his incisive gaze, sharply analyzing me, too.
Do not look, do not look! I tapped my foot trying to disguise my discomfort and I was about to go off quietly when the rabbi apologized and introduced us to this guy, the angel with intimidating eyes.
“Sorry for my lack of education, I thought you already knew him, this is my eldest son, Micah, he came from a vacation in Spain, he was away from here fortoo long, completing a postgraduate in Ireland, but now he is back, isn’t it, son?”
Micah nodded with rosy cheeks denouncing that he was embarrassed and my father asked him which course he was doing, receiving a polite and concise answer.
“English Literature, sir, at Trinity College, in Dublin.”
Still with the filter between my brain and my damn mouth off, I said what I had thought aloud and then I swore myself really shamed, for heaven’s sake, what did I do...
“Very interesting...”
"Not as interesting or promising as Law, but my life is the books, what can I do?”
I wondered how he knew I was a lawyer? Micah gave me an embarrassed smile and said as if he could guess my thoughts.
"You do not remember me, but I was with my parents at your graduation dinner two years ago.”
I tried to find it in my memory, and nothing, how can I not remember it? I should have been so focused on getting away from the embarrassment that Mrs. Sophia, my mother, typically protective and a Jew, gets me into, so I did not realize her presence.
Since this day, three years ago, we have become friends and confidants, we were always together. Where one was, sure the other was too, so the rabbi asked me for help to find Micah after he had escaped from his betrothal dinner with Esther, leaving no trace.
I put on my shoes, pick up my cell phone, and send a message to Micah, hopeful that even though he's running away from everyone, I'm an exception to the rule and he wants to talk to me.
Rafael: "Micah, I’m worried, are you ok?"
Less than a minute later, I get a response that makes me a little more relieved.
Micah: "I’m confused and lost..."
Confused and lost, but at least he's alive, for me,now, this is what really matters. Since yesterday, Micah disappeared without a trace, my heart was in my hand, squeezed like a withered pea. I need to talk to him, and understand what's going on in his head.
Rafael: "Perhaps talking helps, where can I find you?"
Micah: "And my father? Will you come alone, only you and me?"
His question initially confuses me and offends me, of course I'll find him alone, what kind of friend would I be if I probed where he is, then his father to him? However, I reread his message: "confused and lost", and I hear the voice of my intuition, the rapport that we strangelyhave, in which only through one look onecan capture what the other is thinking. Micah is going through those moments in life in which we question everything and everyone, that everything is uncertain and we simply cannot find the emergency exit, I can feel his anguish and it hurts me, so I reassure him by concluding the matter with firmness and sincerity.
Rafael: "I would never betray your trust, give me the address, I'm going there."
The receptionist at the hotel, with thin gray hair stuck to his head and thin as a fakir, informs me in a not good way that the elevator was broken, which forces me to have to climb the stairs to the fifth floor. I get sweaty at the bottom of the stairs, putting my boobs in my mouth and leaning against the wall, stopping a little to get someair. I dry my face in a handkerchief and watch the layout of the rooms down the long and decadent corridor, looking closely at the numbers on the doors.
508, I clench my fist to knock on the door and I give up as soon as I see a bell, I press the button and wait for it to be answered, but it takes a good time and nothing... did I miss the room number? I pick up the phone to check the message and confirm that it is this number, 508. I play once, twice and as I do not notice any movement in the room, I follow the corridor and so I hear the creaking of a door opening and Micah’s strong voice calling me.
“Rafa, come in!”
I turn around and stop at the door, Micah turns sideways, giving me passage, and my eyes change direction, leaving his face to look into the room.
I dry my sweaty hands in my cotton pants and go in half embarrassed, the whole place is very decadent, the upholstery of the sofa and chair has tears, the bed is small and apparently uncomfortable, the curtains are threadbare, surely this hotel has already seen better days. Micah's presence here is ironic, because his father, Isaac Weiss, despite exercising the rabbi's religious function, is the owner of an elegant network of hotels, frequented by those moneyed who want to stay in Tel-aviv.
Micah points to the couch so I sit, but he is still standing, visibly distressed, my eyes go down and stop in his hands, holding a cigarette and a stout glass of an amber liquid that seems to me to be whisky. He takes a sip of his cigar and takes a long sip of his drink, staring at me with the red eyes of those who were crying. His tiredness is clear, I do not need to confirm through his crumpled clothes, the way he pants and sighs deeply demonstrate that his limit is by a thread, it is about to break, right here in front of me. I break our silence, wondering carefully what happened to him to disappear in that way.
"Micah, is there a problem? We all got so worried, you disappeared like in a magic pass, without a trace.”
“All of whom? I bet Old Isaac is just worried about what my fucking future father-in-law is spreading all over Ajami: The infamous Micah Weiss did not honor his commitment to Esther and left her in the middle of the engagement dinner, let's bring that unfortunate boy back through his balls, how could he reject a woman as beautiful and sexy as my little girl, what gave that bastard?"
“Yes, Rabbi Isaac is a bit upset, but I came here to listen to you, I confess that I also did not understand very well what happened, you seemed to be getting along with Esther, you always went to the movies together, you seemed to be a happy couple at the parties, I do not understand very well about dating, but I thought that it was what you wanted.”
“Once we are in our"let out" moment, tell me Rafael, why do you say you do not understand dating? I thought you were getting involved with Rebekah.”
"Of course not, Rebecca and I, it's impossible, I do not know where you got such nonsense from.”
I say it stammering at hearing this nonsense of Micah, if there was someone who seemed to be in love, about to enter the role of serious men, it was him, not me, I could never relate to Rebecca and neither with any woman, I'm not the normalguy he thinks, I am the freak of the family Zahav, a damn sick who masturbates for three years, every night, day after day thinking of the taste of the mouth of my best friend...
“Why absurd? Aren’t you a man?” - Micah insists with his misplaced questions, taking another long sip of his drink, which apparently came down scratching.
"Of course, I am, do I look like something different, a donkey or a vegetable? But it's not about me now, I'm here to understand what's going on in your hard head, Micah.”
Micah opens the buttons of his shirt to the middle of his chest, pretending to be suffocated by his clothes and his state of mind that is deplorable. He takes off his shoes throwing them away and walks around the room like a wounded, afraid animal. His broad forms fill the small space, leaving him still smaller, he stops in front of me and growls with his hand at his waist, his chest rising and falling uncontrollably, as if he were coming out of a strenuous marathon.
"Ask what you really want to know, but think it over, Rafael, you may not be ready for the truth."
Micah presses me into a veiled message that I do not know if I'm brave enough to reach... or resist.
“I... I...” My voice does not come out, the dissonant thoughts hammering in my head keep me silent, my brain becomes incapable of formulating a coherent phrase as I gaze into his burning gray eyes, as if it crackles like live coals.
“Say, Rafael, what you want to hear from me, why the hell you do not stop also sulking me with this hypocritical talk and ask once and for all what you want me to admit?”
NO!!! Micah, please do not make me follow you around, it's dangerous, since we verbalize the truth, we cannot pretend that nothing has happened, we're about to enter a road with no return.
"I just wanted to understand what's happening to you..." – I can speak by focusing on his face so I do not see his fingers sliding with a grinding sluggishness across his chest.
“With me? Are you sure it's just me?” – He pushes me into an argument, staring at me in a hard way that takes away my reaction.
Micah finishes opening the buttons of his shirt and throws it in the corner near the bed, panting. It took me a moment to look away from the sight of the colossal male in front of me, pretending that I did not notice his fingers brushing timidly at the button and the zip of his trousers, bulging and tight in his crotch, almost bursting.
It cannot be, is he excited? By me? Thisdoubt bounces in my head as I frown, trying to find some air in my lungs, about to collapse, by a rampant desire, so overwhelming, to the point of letting me dizzy.
"No, it's not just you," I say in a hiss.
I lower my eyes without being able to face him, what do I think I'm doing?
I get up from the couch winking to dispel the tears that keep growing in my eyes, Rafael, for God's sake, control yourself and get out of this room and the smell of this man right now, before it's too late... Micah narrows our distance and lifts my chin with the index and middle fingers so that I face him. I try to escape the scrutiny of his inquisitive eyes, looking at any place other than his two dark-gray revolted rivers eyes in which I want to dive deep, even though I will not be unharmed.
"Shhh, not Rafael, look at me.”
My lips tremble uncontrollably, I know, he knows, what we're about to do, I still stare at the door, though my feet do not follow me, they keep standing in front of Micah, waiting and hoping he'll get us out of this agony.
"I, you, we should not.” The soft touch of his fingers on my skin warms my soul, desperate to get out of the cold, from the shadow of my cursed desire.
"What should we do, Rafael? To continue pretending that what we feel is a pure and innocent friendship between two men? Are you going to deny that you want me? Cause I'm tired of years after years telling myself that I do not want your mouth in mine, that I do not dream every damn night to be inside you, taking you as mine, even if it's only for one time.”
The safe centimeters of distance that keeps me away from Micah ends up in a miserable step that he gives toward me, his eyes fixed on mine, just like a sharp stake, scratching the insides of my raw, visceral desire. He says in a low but firm tone:
"Now you tell me to stop, Rafa."
I try to co-ordinate my broken breathing with the quickening beats of my heart, but it is difficult to keep myself immune to this maddening excitement that pushes me even more strongly to the precipice. I wanted to have the strength to stop this crazy urge to taste only once the taste of Micah's lips on mine, the throbbing in my limb that swells and pulsates as if ithad a life of its own, but I cannot.
Micah lowers her face to the exact height of my lips and growls rubbing her mouth in mine, light as a sigh.
"Make me stop, Rafa.”
I cannot do what he asks me, my body and my mind have been taken by him since we first looked at each other.
His mouth takes mine in a rush, without delicacy, our hungry lips clash and get lost in a lecherous choreography of tongues and saliva, hell suck me, but the taste of his mouth, his decadent taste of whiskey and mint, loaded with desire, is too good for me to resist. My hands wander curiously from his broad chest to his thin abdomen, cut like a Greek god, he is all solidity and rusticity, driving me mad with his lips pressed to mine, brushing his hard limb against mine, pulsing... I open the button and the zipper of his pants, pushing it along with his underwear down. Ah, heaven, as I wanted and dreamed of the sensation of his penis throbbing in my hands, I groped his cock, as hard as steel, his skin soft and velvet, while Micah nibbles at my lower lip with force... And the sting of pain instead of repelling me, makes me even madder than horny.
I close my eyes to register in my memory the ecstasy of having him in my arms and my lips slowly descend, without any rush, down his neck to his fabulous cock.
I kneel before him and open my eyes, drowning in the primitive, animalistic desire I see in the depths of his gray iris. I wrap his long, thick penis, unable to close my hand completely, and lick his glans undermining a pre-orgasm, it tastes delicious, musky, striking and addictive, my lips surround his penis, and I suck him still clumsy, because this is the first time I have gone to something so intimate.
I only revealed this side of my intimate life to Micah on a day when we had drunk too much, I have never made love to anyone, never wanted to go to the end, my sex life was just a few nights of masturbation in the loneliness of my room, and nothing more.
However, today I need more, I want everything... My tongue surrounds the head and pursues the exalted veins of his member, licking, sucking, sucking it with ardor, deeper and deeper. I hold the back of his thighs, half-open, shaking, and I swallow it whole, feeling his glans beat against the back of my throat, while I gently massagehis balls.
"Damn Rafa, slow with it, I want it to last, but your whole mouth swallowing me is too tasty.”
Hearing the hoarse groans of Micah makes me feel powerful, glorious in giving this pleasure to the man I desire. In a rapid movement, he suspends me from the ground by my shoulders and takes off my clothes in a hurry, laying me down, totally delivered on bed, without detaching his mouth from mine. His kisses make me burn inside, leaving a trail of heat on my bare skin, until it reaches my penis, which grows and throbs with every suck from his mouth around me.
Even if the years, the decades, I can never forget the heavenly sensation of his lips consuming me whole, all that saliva and perversion... Micah turns me face down and his body hangs over mine, over my shoulders I can see him stretch out and pick up a small jar in the drawer of the bedside table. He licks the middle of my back, making me shiver all over and nibbles at my buttocks, kissing them unhurriedly. He opens my buttocks, pulling them away gently and licks my anus once, twice, so many times, that it makes me squirm, grabbing the sheets.
Micah sticks his tongue slowly, sucks and provokes my entrance with the tip of his middle finger, lubricating it, widening little by little. A warm, viscous liquid trickles between the globes of my buttocks and his limb goes up and down between them, causing me to contract my muscles uncontrollably. Why does he provoke me like this? His penis is great, if he tries to penetrate me he will surely hurt me. As if he could guess my doubts and my fears, he says in a hoarse voice, glued to my ear:
"I'll be careful, you'll widen and be able to take me, trust me."
I nod my head and he gasps, whispering in my ear as he guides the penis into my entrance and forces the glans slowly.
“Now you are mine, Rafael. SHIT... this is so good...”
My body tightens with the discomfort of being taken for the first time and Micah tells me to relax, with his dick pierced into my anus, but stopped, telling me that it will only move when I say the pain has passed.
He kisses my neck slowly and groans in a whisper, sayinghow he dreamed of this day when I would be all his, when he would take me, body and soul, and make my body beg for his cock. My hips and buttocks move slowly with the decadent pleasure of being possessed, raped.
The movements of our bodies become more intense and Micah penetrates me in stride, unfolding and undermining my resistances, stocking deeper and deeper. How can it be so good? His hips pound against my buttocks, the sound of our shocking bodiescarries me to the limit of an unthinking pleasure, he nibbles at my back and the tip of my ear, moaning softly with me, in the same rhythm as coming and going from his dick, which slides down my anus faster and faster, until I feel a myriad of sensations building on me, swelling in a vertiginous spiral.
“Mine, all mine, let it come and enjoy it for me.”
I squeeze my eyes and bite the pillow to stifle the scream ripping into my throat, the exact moment I enjoy in long, thick jets, melting the entire sheet. Micah grabs my hips, digging his fingers into my body and lashes his cock, stocking once, twice, swelling inside me, convulsing into an overpowering orgasm, spilling itself all over my insides.
“Oh my gosh, Rafa, this is so good.”
His body falls over mine and we remain a long time in this position, he still inside me. We breathed breathless, our bodies are sweating, his warm skin is brushing against mine. When he regains her breath, Micah lies on his side and brings me into his arms, stroking my back and my hair. We were silent, only enjoying the indescribable sensation of our bodies united, connected as if we were one.
“Are you sorry?”– Micah asks, his voice denounces an insecurity that until then, I did not know.
"No, and you, sorry?" I answer without hesitation, curling my legs in his.
“Never!No more lies, Rafa, we'll have to find a way to make this madness work, because I will not give it up here.” – Micah points at me and at him, kissing my mouth slowly.
Micah's breathing softens and he falls asleep soon after... And I stay awake with my feelings stirred in the extreme, but feeling his bare skin on mine is like a potent sleep-aid and I can no longer fight, I breath deeply, my heavy eyes close and the sleep takes me, carrying me to a paradisiacal place, where Micah and I are safe, away from the chaos that is about to turn our life, once they discover that the two best friends of yesteryear, now are lovers.
A TISSUE, A LOVE
(Aurora & Ken)
The cozy silence of my spartan room embraces me.I straighten my spine upright and below my face, contrite, begging the angels to find the way back from reason, my knees don’t ache, despite the corn kernels that afflict them. The pain is the least of my problems, as compared with my baffling thoughts.
"Do not let me fall into temptation, my Lady, save me from evil, and from the sensations that he can awaken in my body, the way he creeps into my mind is corrosive, pernicious.”
Why, even as I hurried out of his room, knowing it was the only right thing to do, I still stare at my door, wanting, looking for any excuse to see him again? The feeling of completeness when I am by his side is too hard to reject, for me it does not matter if those brief moments are like little crumbs that I collect. I've always had so little of love, the subtle touch of our hands clashed, the sudden warmth of his skin over mine, hear his throaty and contained voice, are food for my soul hungry for life, I need a little more, just one more time.
From the moment Mother Filipa sent me to take care of the stranger stabbed in the convent front door, I knew, something inside me shouted, "NO," but how could I deny care to a dying man? Not complying with my superior's order? All I had to do was to nod with a forced smile, when she said that dealing with his needs, would be my main obligation.
That was two weeks ago, but it seems that it was yesterday, Mr. Adauto, our housekeeper, almost as old as Methuselah, was who heard the supplications and found him thrown on the floor, bleeding like a pig.
Three sisters and I were getting some fresh air after dinner, when we saw Mr. Adauto hurry to the gate, following the sound of a cry for help. When we reached the bars of the gate, there was a man lying on the ground, face down on a pool of blood. The guy was still conscious, even badly injured, I couldn’t see well, but I could notice, quickly, his forms and hisstrong physical. I opened the gate and joined Mr. Adauto to help him raise the boy from the ground, with great effort, we managed to bring him into the convent, while Sister Clarissa rushed to find Mother and inform her what was happening.
Selene and Giulia, nuns of the convent, looked at the man in a mixture of disgust and pity, but all I could think was how I could handle the fragile thread of his life that insisted on breaking. Before I was ordained, I worked as a nurse, so as soon as I could, I took the initiative to give him first aid: I checked his vital signs, asked Selene and Giulia for help to get warm water, alcohol, needle and scissors.
Mother Filipa entered the room, stunned, sitting on the edge of the bed to see the state in which the man was, analyzing him from top to bottom, looking apprehensive. I ignored the eyes of the sisters who only watched him in anguish, I did not have time for it, I just let myself be carried away by the adrenaline of this fight of life's struggle against death, which kept my body on alert.
I did not think or hesitate, I only acted, as if in the automatic mode: to clean the fresh blood of his body and to firmly compress the cut of his belly to stop the bleeding, my actions were as certain as my agile hands, without chances for hesitation.
"Aurora, do you think you can stop this bleeding? I'll call Dr. Pietro to come here.”
When Mother turned to leave the room, the man shifted in bed, gasping, coughing, with wide eyes and heavy, choked breath. He grabbed the mother's hand in a loud voice, saying:
“No! Please, I beg, no! They can come back, do not call anyone.”
"Aurora, what do you say?" The mother asked, not knowing what to do.
"I'll try, if he gets worse, you call Dr. Pietro."
Mother Filipa left the room and the man took my hand, speaking quietly,
“Thanks, lady.”
It took only two weeks for me to plunge into hell, oh! Lord, forgive me for blasphemy, but the desire this man wakes me is something I’ve never imagined that could exist. I get up slowly, grimacing as I feel the corn grains getting out of my skin and I lie down on my narrow bed, excited by the moments I have just lived hammering in my mind. As soon as I finished ironing his clothes, I went into her room without knocking, distracted, and without waiting, I stuck in the door, paralyzed with the perfect sight of his naked body recently got out of the shower.
My eyes slid down the back of his neck through his wet short, black hair, his broad back sprinkled with drops of water, his narrow, manly hips, rounded buttocks, and hislean thighs and shapely legs.
His body is strong, but without exaggeration, he is a man of longline and athletic forms, making me believe that he exercises frequently. He turns front me, too distracted, and I can quickly see his strong chest, broad, smooth and hairless.
Virile, elongated and beautiful... How can I be a nun and say that a penis is beautiful? But I have no other word to define his member that makes me speechless... It is simply beautiful, with clear skin and reddish glans, shining moistened.
I looked up and held my breath, frightened to see his narrow, warm eyes scanning me from top to bottom, as if undressing me, even if I were dressed.
He said nothing, I said nothing, only our eyes spoke what our lips could not reveal. After a disturbing silence, his voice left all my senses on alert, as he pronounced my name with desire:
“Aurora.”
“Ken.”
I stare at the corn grains thinking that, maybe, I should go back to my penance... I need to forget Ken, and how his eyes and his timid laughter disturbs and instigates me. Dreaming with his lips on mine, his hands awakening my body still numb, will not help me in anything, however, as much as I know that the closer I get to him the more distantI am from the virtuous life. I cannot deny myself the truth: I feel attracted to Ken Matsumi, as I have never felt for anyone, since his eyes have opened to me, as soon as he awoke, my life has collided with right, leaving completely off the rails.