Dr. Cynthia Leonard was having a go at Ben, her orthodox Jewish colleague.
“And I’ve even heard,” she announced to the seven interns clustered around their table in the staff room, “that some of Ben’s more fanatical co-religionists are so terrified of the female body that they do it through a hole in the sheet, and only in the dark, as dark as possible.”
The interns all looked at Ben.
Ben rolled his eyes. “You’re bringing up the hole-in-the-sheet canard? Really? Dear Lord…” He pulled off his top scrub, pulled off his tallit katan, ignored the whistles and catcalls, and put his scrub back on. ”Somebody driving through an orthodox neighborhood in New York or Israel probably saw some of these,” Ben held up his tallit katan by the fringes and looked through the opening, “hanging on laundry lines and got the entirely mistaken and altogether idiotic idea that orthodox Jews do it through holes in the sheet! You can look it up on Snopes…”
The interns all pulled out their phones.
“…and the dark thing is also bullshit!”
Rose, the secretary, poked her head into the staff room. “Ben? Sarah called while you were in surgery. She said to remind you to pick up the dry cleaning on your way home.”
“Thank you, Rose,” Ben replied. “And on that note, Dr. Leonard will see all of you for rounds at 06:00 tomorrow. I’m going to enjoy the morning off.”
Ben left the hospital and drove to the dry cleaners.
“Oh Dr. Silverstein,” Mr. Kobayashi said, handing him a package, “I must thank you. Authentic, hand-spun, habutai silk is so rare outside Japan. It is an honor to work on fabric of such quality.”
“You’re welcome.” Ben nodded, turned and left, and drove home.
Sarah, a forensic accountant and junior partner at her firm, lay stretched across the couch reading a trade journal. Ben gave her a peck on the cheek.
“Did you get it?”
Ben held up the package. “You owe me a kiss.”
“Go shower. I’ll give you a kiss.”
Even though it was still relatively early, Ben went upstairs, tossed his scrubs and boxers in the hamper, hung up his tallit katan, and showered in the hall bathroom.
When he was finished, he tossed his towel in the hamper, on top of Sarah’s thong, noticed the torn paper from the dry-cleaning package, and went to the main bedroom. Ben closed his eyes, stepped inside, and shut the door behind him.
He had barely opened his eyes to the pitch darkness when Sarah grabbed his cock and stroked him until he was hard. She grabbed his balls; holding him tight, she kissed the tip of his cock, slowly licking the underside and around the glans.
Ben groaned; he was tempted to call out Sarah’s name, but words were not allowed in the dark, only sounds.
Sarah tongued the head, eliciting more groans, until she felt his sac tighten. She gave him one more kiss, edging him as close to the brink as she dared before releasing him, backing away and shimmying under their Japanese silk sheet, which lay over their bed, attached to a frame so that it would not move as much they did.
Ben tiptoed over the carpet around the side of the bed. He slipped onto the bed, over the sheet, over Sarah, and plunged two fingers into one of embroidered holes in the silk fabric and into Sarah. He stroked her clit, and kissed and sucked her erect nipples through the silk, until she squirmed and moaned. He quickly withdrew his fingers and thrust in his cock, hoping to enter Sarah, but she pulled aside and grabbed his cock before it could hit their plush duvet.
Sarah shifted to lie on her stomach, released Ben, slipped a pillow under her hips, and presented at another hole.
Ben slid into Sarah through the hole, reaching around through another hole to caress her clit, matching the motion of his fingers to the thrusts of his cock.
Sarah shouted and convulsed as her orgasm exploded and roared through her.
Ben gasped and groaned, shuddering as he climaxed; he pulsed, filling Sarah with his fluids, until she pulled the pillow away and he collapsed onto her.
When Ben had softened and slipped out of Sarah, he released the sheet from its frame and rolled under it, pulling it around them, to spoon his wife. He slid a hand around her tummy and held her close as they fell fast asleep.
Ben rose hours later, how many he could not tell, he guessed five or six; clocks were also banned in the dark. He went to the ensuite and came back into the bedroom. He went to the door, left the room, and saw that Sarah had attached the sheet to one of its other frames, this one in the hall, barring his way. The lights were all out, and the curtains at the top of the stairs had been drawn; it was still very dark.
Knowing what Sarah might be planning, Ben hardened and stuck his cock through one of the holes.
Sarah backed against him, brushing his cock with her ass as lightly as she could. She caressed him with her ass, back-and-forth, up-and-down, between her cheeks, and over her cheeks, until she felt him twitch out of sheer need and desire. She backed away for a few seconds before resuming her efforts. Once again, she felt Ben throb and twitch, and once again, she backed away, repeating the process until Ben whimpered in agony. Sarah brushed against him once and broke contact, extracting a desperate groan, before backing into him and massaging his cock as fast as she could.
Ben squawked, yelling as he erupted all over Sarah, who pumped him until he was utterly spent.
When she felt him soften, Sarah stepped into the hall bathroom and turned on the light. “Come and clean me.”
Ben detached the sheet from its frame and followed Sarah into the shower. He used the showerhead to wash Sarah’s ass and lower back, then adjusted the showerhead, pulled Sarah to him, and aimed the pulsing jet of hot water at his wife’s clit.
“Gotta clean here too,” he leered.
“Yes, you do…oh my GOD!” She bucked and rocked against Ben as she came.
Ben and Sara dried themselves and dressed. Holes in the sheet and in the dark, ha!, Ben thought as he and Sarah carefully folded the silk sheet before leaving the house and heading off to the hospital and the firm, Dr. Cynthia Leonard, you can eat your fucking heart out.
