Day of Atonement

Note: This is a follow-up to "How Is This Night Different...?" submitted in the non-erotic section on 7/28/16. There is sex and romance in "Day Of Atonement," just enough to lend support to the prime focus of the story.

*

Ben Glazer is still conflicted. Part of him wants to kick himself for wimping out when the beautiful and sexy Mindy Setrin-Greenwald, married to the boorish Sam Greenwald, suggested they have an affair. The other part pats himself on the tuckus for doing the right thing, for not violating the 10th Commandment: thou shall not covet thy neighbor's wife.

She made that suggestion when their families met for Passover, the Jewish holiday commemorating God's deliverance of the ancient Hebrews from bondage in Egypt. Ben had had the hots for Mindy for years, had cooked up a Torah's worth of fantasies with Mindy in the starring role. He kept his feelings about Mindy to himself until last Passover, when he and Mindy took a walk after the Seder meal and Mindy fell into his arms. But then, when they began exchanging cell numbers, Ben cracked, told Mindy he'd first have to consult with his rabbi. Mindy broke up in hysterics and walked away.

That was six months ago. Now it's early October and the Jewish New Year is approaching, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Yom Kippur is the holiest of Jewish holidays, the day when Jews atone for their sins. Ben's greatest sin for the year was that hanky panky he engaged in with Mindy after the Seder—the hugging and the kissing and the light petting on a dark street several blocks from her parents' house, then filled with guests, including Sam, her overweight, slightly inebriated and not so beloved hubby.

Ben hasn't seen Mindy since. Still single in his late thirties, he's dated a little since then. But, as usual, he's failed to find the woman of his dreams. In fact, so, far, only Mindy fits that bill and she's married. Not happily, according to her, but committed to staying with Sam because of little Rachel, their daughter who just turned five. His head tells him to move on, to keep searching. His heart, not to mention his penis, tells him to pursue his obsession, pulled the other way by his moral compass and by his rabbi's wise counsel not to act upon his sinful thoughts. Even if he did let his carnal/romantic desires trump God's commandment, he knows he's probably too late. Mindy laughed in his face. She wouldn't want him now, would she? Not after he spilled his guts but then lacked the guts to follow through. His desire for her eats at him, annoys him like the hungry gnat that won't quit no matter how often it's swiped away.

He can't take it anymore. He calls her at the school where she teaches, careful to call just past noon, when he figures she's on lunch break.

"Hi Mindy, this is Ben Glazer. Read any good books lately?" He thinks this is a good opener because they're both readers. For years, they've compared reading lists when their families get together.

Silence.

"Mindy?"

"Yes, Ben, I'm here."

"Bad time?"

"Good time. My class just left for lunch. What's up?"

He's so nervous he can barely hold the cell to his ear. "Um, so, have you—ˮ

"Is this what you're really calling about, my literary interests?"

"Um, kind of."

"Kind of? Ben, the last time we spoke, you said something about consulting your rabbi about you and I pursuing an affair. Don't tell me he green-lighted you on that proposal." She giggles.

"Ah, no, he didn't." He pauses, not sure how to proceed. Then: "Look, I've missed you terribly, and just want you to know that I've reconsidered."

Silence.

"Mindy?"

"Reconsidered what, Ben?"

"Well, what we talked about, having an affair." He winces—the word still sounds so dirty to him. "That is, if you're still amenable." He hears her take a deep breath.

"I am but it doesn't sound like you are. You're obviously still conflicted, still in approach-avoidance mode. Am I right?"

"I'm more approach now than avoidance. Hence my call."

"Hence your call. Hmm...interesting. So what do you have in mind?"

"Well, something more than what we did at Seder."

"More than another romp in the dark, you mean, when you got me all hot and bothered and then slinked away to consult with your rabbi, who you must have known would veto our plan."

"But they'll be no slinking away this time, I promise."

Silence.

"Mindy?"

"I'm thinking." Pause. "Okay, so back to my question. What do you have in mind?"

He calms down a little. "More than just sex, more than just your beautiful body. As you know, I've adored you for years."

"And as you know, I've been married for years and don't plan to leave Sam any time soon. Like I told you over Passover, it would hurt Rachel."

He shakes his head in frustration, rolls his eyes and looks up at the ceiling, not sure what to say.

"Ben? Still with me, Ben?"

"Right. Rachel. You did tell me that."

"Shall I hold on while you speed-dial your rabbi?"

He doubles over in laughter. "That's a good one, Mindy."

"Actually, it wasn't all in jest."

"Oh?"

"Look, Ben, I'm getting hungry. Wanna call me back?"

"So I guess it's just sex then, huh?"

"Oy. Well, we can also discuss books if that would make you feel any better. Maybe throw in politics as well."

He titters nervously. "Listen, maybe we can meet at the Hilton. You know, the one by the beltway."

"You're still sounding tentative, Ben. What's this maybe business? You either want to do this or not."

"I want to do this."

"Great." She then proceeds to nail down the time and place. Minutes later, before hanging up, she says, "The Silent Wife by A.S.A. Harrison."

"Huh?"

"You asked me if I had read any good books lately."

"Right. I did, didn't I? Any good?"

"It's okay. See you at the Hilton."

**************

Mindy's out shopping and won't return for a few hours. At least that's what she tells Ben she told Sam as they greet each other in the lobby of the Hilton on this Saturday around noon, the Saturday following the Thursday that was Rosh Hashanah. She's wearing a short blue skirt, high heels and a low-cut blouse. She's a bit done-up for shopping but knew Ben would appreciate an outfit that does justice to her firm, shapely body. With her hair pinned up, she looks like a cross between a business executive and a high-class hooker.

Ben wears dark olive pants and a matching sports jacket, what he typically wears to synagogue on Saturday mornings. He didn't bother going home to change after services. He wanted to but deferred to Mindy's tight schedule. "Remember, I've got a husband and kid at home," she had reminded him.

"Wow, you look fabulous," he tells her.

"Thanks." She studies his clothes. "Coming from shul, I take it." He nods. "You didn't consult with Rabbi Silverstein before coming here, I hope."

"Hardly. I doubt I'd have made it here if—ˮ

"Just kidding, Ben."

"Right, of course." He stands there as if lost in a strange town.

"Well, are you going to get us a room? Or do you want me to?"

"Huh?"

"A room, Ben, a room. We'll need one if we're going to do this." Pause. "You still want to, right?"

"Of course I want to. Be right back." He heads to the front desk while she takes a seat in one of the plush, high-back chairs.

A minute later: "We've got room five-o-one. How's that?"

She stands up and grips his arm. "I'm sure it's fine." Ben assumes the same lost pose he did before he approached the desk. "Jeez, Ben, you look like you're auditioning for an appearance on Curb Your Enthusiasm or something. Sure you want to do this?"

"Of course I'm sure. I'm just a little nervous, that's all." She nods and heads toward the elevator.

Following close behind, Ben removes his tie and stuffs it in his jacket pocket. Upon entering room 501, he stands by the window and takes in the view of the busy interstate traffic. "All those cars on the beltway," he says. "Wonder where all those people are going."

She sits on the edge of the bed and crosses her legs. "I don't know, Ben, but I've got to be home in two hours." She glances at her watch.

He turns around. "Right. Guess we should get down to business." He sits down beside her, staring at her legs, smooth and bare. Then, looking into her big brown eyes, he says, "Mindy, do you like me? I mean, do you really like me?"

She sighs. "Ben, are we here for a Q and A session or do you plan to make love to me?"

His face lights up. "Ah, now you're talking, because I'm here to make love to you, not simply screw you. It's important to me that you feel the same way." He slips off his sports jacket and tosses it on the other bed.

She rubs his leg in a soothing motion. "What I think you're asking is, am I here just using you to fulfill something I'm not getting at home. Right?"

"Okay, are you?"

Honestly, Ben, kind of. But don't feel bad, because I always thought you were a special guy. You're smart, you're gentlemanly, you're in good shape and we share common interests, unlike that boob I married." She starts to unbutton his long-sleeve, blue dress shirt. He's not wearing an undershirt, and when she gets to the last button, she says, "And you've got a nice chest besides. Not too much chest hair to hide those solid pecs."

"And you've got the prettiest, sexiest, most seductive brown eyes I've ever seen." He means it, too. He could fall in love with her eyes alone. He holds her face while giving her a long, loving kiss. "Great skin, too, I might add."

She takes several deep breaths, reaches back to let her hair down and shakes her head. "Whew! Ben, I'm so amazingly hot right now I can't stand it." She shoves her hand up her skirt and sticks her fingers inside her pussy. "Here, have a taste," she says, holding them up to his face.

He takes a few licks. "Not bad. Pretty good, actually."

He's feeling the heat the same as she. However, he's also feeling something that goes much deeper than her vagina. No doubt, if given the chance, he could easily fall in love with Mindy Setrin-Greenwald. And maybe, just maybe, he can get her to feel the same way. He watches her undress as he disrobes himself, slipping off his shoes and pants, realizing he's reached the point of no return. Backing out now would make him look more than silly.

"You smell really good," he says, cuddling with her under sheet and bedspread.

She giggles. "Thanks. Sam tells me that also. Only I can't return the compliment, not with him reeking of liquor and cigar smoke. You're a breath of fresh air, Ben, literally." He's half on top of her, kissing her boobs and rubbing his erection against her leg.

Ben's a far cry from the shy, awkward virgin he appears in front of Mindy. While no playboy, he's got several long-term relationships under his belt. He knows how to please a woman and knows what a woman must do to please him. For various reasons, those relationships didn't last beyond a couple years. All through them, he still had his eyes on Mindy, the married, unattainable Mindy. Now, while fulfilling at least part of his fantasy, he wonders if that's part of his attraction, wanting what he can't have, or at least wanting what he can't have the way he wants it.

He does his best to bury those thoughts as he buries his head in her crotch and starts licking her pussy. He knows he's pleasing her, knows by her soft moaning, not to mention the wetness between her legs.

"Damn, Ben, do you exercise that tongue of yours too when you work-out?" She's got her eyes closed, her hands pressed against her forehead.

He comes up for air and says, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should." She sits halfway up, reaches out and takes his arms. "Fuck me, Ben, fuck—sorry—make love to me, I mean. I can't wait any longer. And for the record, I'm on the pill."

He chuckles at her cute verbal detour and takes topside. He can't get over the surreal sensation of this, making love to his coveted Mindy, the girl he had obsessed about since he was twenty-three and she a fifteen-year old high school freshman. He couldn't do much about it then, nor later when she married in her early twenties. "Together at last," he blurts out, as a feeling of triumph washes over him. "I've wanted you for so long."

"Well, you've got me, baby, and I hope it was worth the wait." She moans some more, then says, "It sure as hell is for me."

Worth the wait for him? A resounding YES, at least for the moment. He still can't shake the guilt of trampling over God's 10th Commandment. Even as his dick stabs in and out of Mindy's hot cunt, even as he must contain himself from bursting with excitement, he can't completely free himself from the bonds of his moral sensibilities. "It is for me too," he says, hoping she doesn't notice the lack of total conviction in his voice.

He needn't worry, because she's too lost in her own erotic revelry to notice someone's subtle voice inflections. She's grabbing the edge of the bedspread, eyes closed, looking forward to finally climaxing, something she hasn't done with her husband in a long time. "Almost there, Ben, almost there!" she cries. Seconds later, when she gets "there," she shrieks loud enough for guests in the next room to hear. He follows her a half minute later, then peppers her with kisses and a whispered I love you.

She sits up, propping her head on two pillows. "Ben, that was super." She glances at her watch. "Wanna do it again? We have time."

He nods and starts to kiss her breasts. "I could go at least two more rounds if we had the rest of the afternoon."

"If only I had that luxury," she says, chuckling. She looks down at his half-flaccid cock. "But let me help you get ready for at least a second go-around." She starts to blow him. He rubs her back as she works to revive the tool that just gave her the best erotic thrill she's had in years.

He rubs his fingers through her hair, some of it matted to the beads of sweat that formed on the back of her neck. Slowly, he shakes his head, still somewhat dazed by the situation. The full reality of it begins to sink in when, after he's fully hard, she squats up and down on his hard shaft, her boobs bouncing with the motion, her pretty knees splayed outward, her seductive brown eyes half-closed as if she's in a trance.

This is a picture of Mindy he's visualized many times when he'd see her at Seder, reading the Passover story from her Haggadah, fully clothed, prim and proper as a young Jewish mother can be. He'd shame himself for letting his mind concoct such irreverent scenarios at sacred occasions like Passover or Yom Kippur when their families would get together to break fast. Shamed or not, his desire for Mindy always got the better of him, though he did take some moral consolation in knowing that fantasy alone wasn't a sin. Rabbi Silverstein had told him that very thing. But now, oy vey, he can just imagine what the good rabbi would say to all this, holed up in a hotel room with a married woman, shtupping away. Of course, turning back is no longer an option, what with Mindy in mid-climax, pile driving his cock, and him on the verge of his own release. Any moral scaffolding he has left collapses in a duet of moans and grunts, followed by passionate kissing, the sensuous feel and sweet aroma of bare, wet skin and terms of endearment cooed softly in the hazy light of an early fall afternoon.

"You've spoiled me, Ben," she says. Her head rests on his chest, her body wrapped in his arms. "I just hope the guilt thing is behind you, and we can do this again soon, can keep doing it because lord knows I need it. I haven't been made love to like that since...You know, I've never been made love to like that. Besides you, Sam's been my only lover—and I use the term very loosely."

He holds her tight, looking up at the ceiling. He lets a full half-minute pass before he says, "No guilt from your end, no guilt at all?"

She shakes her head. "None, at least none that would drive me to seek counsel from a rabbi." She looks up at him and smiles. "Just teasing. Look, I know this isn't kosher. But I've got needs, both sexual and emotional, that Sam doesn't come close to fulfilling, and a daughter that would hate me if I left her father."

Ben clenches his jaw in frustration. It's that damn, pesky thing again, how she imagines a divorce will affect her daughter Rachel. But what can he do? He's not about to try to convince her to leave Sam—she appears steadfast against it. Nor can he silence his conscience with what for him would be an empty rationalization: fulfilling needs that Sam can't or won't.

He still isn't fully reconciled by the time they've showered and he walks her to her car on the Hilton parking lot. "Well, I'll guess I'll see you on Yom Kippur," he says. "Your parents invited me to break fast with them."

"Yes, that's right, I had almost forgotten." She giggles. "And after what you just did for me in there, it won't be easy pretending that our sole connection is a couple family meals a year on Jewish holidays." She looks around before reaching up and wrapping her arms loosely around his neck and bending her foot backward at a ninety-degree angle. "Please say you're looking forward to many more of these afternoon delights, because I know I am."

"Of course," he says, and then kisses her good-by.

***************

Yom Kippur is the holiest day for observant Jews, the Day of Atonement, the day Jews pray for God to write them into the Book of Life. Christians have Jesus to cleanse their sins, Jews their Day of Atonement. The most observant fast and stay in synagogue all day, buried in their prayer books. Ben's done this for a number of years since joining an Orthodox congregation. Until now, he's led a relatively sin-free life. This year, he figures he's got lots to atone for. He watches Rabbi Silverstein lead the congregation through the service, feeling ashamed that he failed to heed the rabbi's advice not to cross the line from fantasy to reality, thereby breaking God's 10th Commandment. But surely, God will forgive him, won't he? Isn't that what Yom Yippur is all about? He worries that this so-called merciful God might not be so forgiving if he carries on with Mindy as he told her he would.

The day drags on as it always does on Yom Kippur, with prayer after redundant prayer. Finally, with the last blowing of the shofar, the service ends and the congregants rush out of shul, their bellies growling for nourishment. Ben heads over to Mindy's parents' house to break fast. Her hubby Sam is Ben's third cousin several times removed. Mindy's parents were always fond of Ben, which is why they invite him over for Passover Seder and other Jewish holidays every year. Six months have passed since Ben was last there, since he and Mindy engaged in their hanky panky down the street. Of course, that pales next to what went on just a week ago at the Hilton. Tonight he'll be facing people that would excoriate him and Mindy both for what they did.

Sam Greenwald is the first to greet him when he walks through the door, out of shape, pot-bellied Sam, with his loud, obnoxious voice. "Hey, cousin," he bellows, "long time, no see." Ben shakes his hand and sees Mindy behind him. Ben turns toward his wife and says, "Hey Min, my cousin here still looks in great shape, don't he?"

She nods, giving Ben a knowing look. "He certainly does."

They've been waiting for Ben to arrive before serving the meal. Sam, Mindy and her parents worship at a reform congregation. The service is a lot less intense; there is less Hebrew and it lets out sooner. Mr. and Mrs. Setrin fast the whole day, while Mindy and Sam do a "partial," as Mindy once called it. They eat breakfast, skip lunch. The meal is typical for the holiday, eggs, lox and bagels, cheese blintzes, orange juice and coffee. Little Rachel looks so cute the way she talks about what went on in temple. Mr. and Mrs. Setrin, both in their early fifties, ask Ben about work, what he's been up to, etc. Mindy giggles and Ben looks away.