Hassidic Passion by Jayde Blumenthal Read Free Book Online Page A

trickling out of her.
    Did that mean it couldn’t have taken?   That she wasn’t pregnant.  Raizy had no idea.  Somebody ought to tell girls everything.  Answer all their questions.
    Somebody should write a book, she thought.  A guide to what went on – in the bedroom.  Because right now, she had no idea.
    Her thighs were so wet with the stuff.  Raizy turned and fled to the bathroom to figure out what to do.
    Despite the ache between her legs, she couldn’t help but be curious about this powerful substance he’d squirted inside her.
    It was slippery, just like her own juices when she reached down and touched herself.  That made sense. 
    She touched her fingers to the juices between her leg and then raised them to her mouth to taste.  Harsh; metallic… with just a touch of salty sweetness.
    That’s when she realized her fingers bore a smear of blood.
    Niddah.
    Perhaps that’s what the metallic taste was.
    How could she have fallen so low?  To go from a pure-white, fasting angelic bride to this coarse creature, tasting her own juices and her husband’s… and maybe, just maybe, imagining doing it again someday.
    Licking and sucking his juices as they came out of him.
    She had heard of girls, not so nice girls, who knelt in front of boys – men – and licked their members.  Sucked that quive ring head she had avoided with her fingers last night. 
    They did it in movies, sometimes, though she’d barely dared to watch at first.
    Kneeling, of course, was forbidden to observant Jews.  But perhaps there was some other way.
    Her éclair felt bruised… but it also felt fuller than it had e ver been before.  Like an expert chef had piped her full of the most delicious cream.  Full to bursting.
    Even as she could barely wipe after she peed for the stin ging and ache, Raizy knew this wouldn’t be the last time she’d imagine licking him, sucking those juices out of him. 
    She wouldn’t have thought it possible before yesterday.  But it made sense, right?  If she dreamed of being eaten herself, licked and tasted and savored, then it made perfect sense to dream of tasting him herself.
    Looking at the bloody paper she tossed into the toilet, Raizy retched a little.  Too soon for it to be new life, she knew; it must just be the alcohol, still, from last night.  Her stomach still wasn’t back to normal.
    Nothing came up this time, to her relief.  But somehow, she wasn’t embarrassed any more than Beryl might hear her.  Did every new bride overcame her shyness overnight?  And turn into a bold, wanton, bloody woman?
    But it was true.
    Raizy felt bolder, about twenty years more experienced than she had when she’d asked him to undo her zipper for her the night before.
    Quickly, she brushed her teeth, slipped one of the pads she’d brought inside her panties, and packed up her toiletries.  This hotel, the newlywed suite, was only for the first night.
    Now, there would be seven nights of blessings, of parties, of dinners in their honor.  Seven nights in which she and Beryl would sleep in separate beds.   Not passing each other so much as a salt shaker, lest their fingers meet.
    She’d always thought that was ridiculous, until they touched for the first time last night and she realized how much power there was in a single touch.  How much electricity.  Maybe not on her fingertips, but she would give anything to feel his fingers inside her again someday, very, very soon.
    After she returned to the mikveh , and they would be together again.
    She promised herself she would put her mouth on him then.  True, they had a whole lifetime together to enjoy the buffet of possibilities. 
    But why shouldn’t she start sampling it now?

CHAPTER Seventeen    
    Beryl
    Seven days, he thought, as he stared down woefully at the smear of blood on the sheets below.
    Her virgin blood.  The proof of her innocence.  It wasn’t true, as many of the boys in yeshiva believed, that you had to hold up the sheet on the