I woke up, back stiff from the old, lumpy bed. I sat up slowly, stretching, hoping my back would crack. I bend my neck this way and that way. Something I always do in the morning. Through the bedroom door I could see my husband in the kitchen, preparing the charoset. He didn't wear his green aviator hat but instead let his luscious, red, curly hair to tickle his bare shoulders. His white yamaka rested on top of his red curls. I smiled as I caught his sparkling emerald eyes and his bright white smile warmed my soul to the bone.
He took after his father, but he was much thinner then he was. My eyes couldn't leave his bare chest. All that hair. That auburn hair choked at his necklace, the chain looked like the buildings I had explored in my youth, weed choked. The gold Star of David resting there proudly on his heaving chest. His white wool tallit hung from his shoulders, the hem with the blue stripes hung near his narrow hips.
He grabbed the wooden bowl and began to walk my way. He sat on the edge of the bed and kissed me. His lips were soft and a bit chilled, as if he had drunk a cool glass of water. I twitched at his touch, wanting, needing more. He had me the bowl of charoset and laid his curly haired head down onto the pillow. I slowly poured the paste onto his chest, moving his necklace of course. He shivered at the coolness of the paste.
I set the bowl down next to him. I bent my neck down and began to lick the festive paste from his slender body. My warm breath, must've felt good on his pale skin, giving out a moan of pleasure when I panted. The sweetness of the Macintosh apples tickled my lips while I could taste the smooth wine on my tongue. My tongue worked every crevice of his chest. The hip bones, the nipples, the ribs, everything, licking the charoset from him.
I licked up his neck, planting kisses along his jaw line, taking in the scent of his red curls. His hands clawed into my back as I began to nibble. His head rolled back, his yamaka getting tangled in his red curls. I snaked my tongue into his mouth and his snaked into mine. Suddenly, I felt Kyle take his tongue out of my mouth and he silently laughed.
It took me a moment to realize why the lust had stopped, but once I fell from my lustful wonderland, I could hear the reason. Tiny whines emitted from the room across the hall. I got up, but Kyle held onto my arm. I looked into green eyes and he smiled. With his other hand, he wiped what charoset was left on his chest onto his finger. He held his finger out, telling me silently to lick his finger. I took the finger into my mouth and sucked it clean of the nutty paste.
"I love you Mrs. Broflovski," purred Kyle.
"I love you too, Mr. Broflovski," I said smiling up at him.