Third
Night
BLURB
Can Joe reconcile his belief in the tenets of
Orthodox Judaism with the religion's disapproval of his sexual orientation? Or
will his crush on his friend Yehuda ruin their friendship and leave him
ostracized by his community? What will happen on the third night of Hanukkah?
EXCERPT
We reached
my building, a two-story with rounded sections out front, and I led him up the
outside stairs to my apartment, and unlocked the door. “It’s kind of a mess,” I
said, ushering him inside. “I wasn’t expecting company.”
“It’s
okay.” He raised his arm and sniffed his pit. “You’re right, we both need
showers.” He pulled his T-shirt off, leaving him in his kattan, the cotton
undershirt with the fringes hanging off. The knots were all white, as in the
Ashkenazi tradition.
He dropped
the T-shirt on the floor and then tugged the kattan over his head, and I got to
see his chest.
It was
impressive for a twenty-something accountant. Squared pecs dusted with dark
hair, a smooth abdomen and a tan line just above his bush of black pubic hair.
My dick pronged up, fortunately restrained by the jock strap and hidden by the
baggy shorts. Yehuda looked at me. “What, are you shy?” he said, as he kicked
off his sneakers and socks. “Or you don’t like to think of your living room as
a locker room?”
I laughed
and pulled off my shoes and socks. As I lifted my sweaty T-shirt off over my
head, Yehuda dropped his shorts and his boxers, and he stood there naked in
front of me. His dick was solid-looking in repose, nestled atop his balls. If
he’d turned his head and cocked his arm, he would have resembled Michelangelo’s
David.
“The
bathroom’s through there,” I said, nodding toward the bedroom. “If you want to
go first.”
He looked
at me and licked his lips. My heart rate accelerated as I realized he was waiting
for me to strip, too. What the fuck? I’d always thought Yehuda was a
straight arrow.
Well, if
he wanted to play that game, I was ready to. I kept my eyes on him as I shucked
my shorts, leaving my dick enclosed in the white cotton jock, which was stained
with sweat and pre-cum. “You said the shower’s through there?” he asked,
walking toward me.
I nodded,
my mouth too dry to speak.
ABOUT
NEIL
Neil Plakcy was a spoiled only child who
celebrated both Hanukkah (when he got a small present each night) and Christmas
(when his big presents arrived.) He loves writing about both holidays,
especially when he can incorporate details of his home in South Florida.
Character-driven
mystery, romance and mainstream novels
FIND NEIL
HERE
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