Fried Food and Fellatio

The move brought Emmett back to the neighborhood in which he grew up while maintaining proximity to Philadelphia—something that was important for both their careers. They now had five bedrooms, a two-car garage and a five-minute walk to temple. They were also only a few blocks away from Emmett’s parents, which Rose insisted simplified things greatly as Mrs. McCarty was David’s primary caregiver when Rose and Emmett were at work.

The moment I set foot inside her kitchen, I could see why she wanted to get right to cooking. It was everything my kitchen was not—modern and spacious, with state-of-the-art appliances.

“Okay, Rose, I think Edward and I are moving in.”

“You like?”

“I love. Think of the meals you’ll be able to prepare here. This is beyond fabulous, and I have serious kitchen envy.”

“I still don’t understand why you don’t just renovate your kitchen. I’m sure you could get the necessary permits to add some square feet in the back.”

I laughed as I pointed to her. “Rich lawyer‚” I said, before changing the direction of my index finger to indicate myself. “Poor teacher.”

“Married to a poor teacher,” she said, gesturing to herself before rotating her wrist to indicate me. “About to marry a trust-fund baby.”

“Oh, please, we haven’t even set a date yet.”

“Yeah, why haven’t you? You’ve been engaged for six months now.”

I shrugged. “We’re not in a hurry, I guess.”

“You may not be not in a hurry, but Edward’s chomping at the bit to get a second ring on that finger.”

“He hasn’t mentioned this to me.”

“I’m not surprised.”

Rose stopped talking when Emmett came into the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of beer from the fridge. He gave Rose a quick kiss as he passed her.

“You aren’t overdoing it, are you?” he asked.

Rose shook her head. “No. We’re just talking, and you know Bella came to cook with me.”

“Your kitchen alone is making me salivate,” I said to Emmett. “I can just imagine the state I’ll be in when we start to make the latkes. I love fried food; I had no idea it was traditional to eat it during Hanukkah.”

“It’s to celebrate the oil in the temple lasting eight days when it should have only lasted one; we eat foods fried in oil,” Rose explained.

“Got it.”

“Okay.” Emmett looked unconvinced as he addressed Rose. “If you feel like you’ve taken on too much, call me and I’ll come finish for you. And you’re not allowed to wash a single dish. You should let me contribute something.”

After Emmett went back to the family room, I turned to Rose grateful to change the subject.

“Someone clearly wants to get laid later.”

Rose laughed. “So not going to happen, and he knows it. He’s being attentive because that’s how he is.”

“Or he’s trying to change your mind.”

“There is no changing my mind. I’m wearing my Passover panties, and he knows exactly what that means.”

“What the fuck are Passover panties? As in, panties Em bought you for Passover?”

“No. As in ‘pass over this ass, you’re not getting in me tonight’ panties.”

“You communicate all of this through your choice of underwear?”

Rose nodded.

“Is blood on the doorpost keeping it a bit too real? I suppose, though, having warning panties is no different from wearing granny panties during that time of month.”

Rose laughed. “Except my Passover panties are actually kind of cute. See?” She pulled down the back of her pants to reveal a pair of black panties with pink writing across the back.

“‘Kish mir in tuchis,’” I read aloud. “Yiddish?” I guessed.

Rose nodded again, giggling. “They say, ‘Kiss my ass.’ And yes, they are far more effective than blood on the door post or period panties. Besides, the whole that-time-of-the- month thing never stopped me.”

“I’m not surprised. From what I heard, nothing stops you. Caesarian sections and semi-private hospital rooms be damned.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe that happened.”

“That you were giving Emmett a blow job only a few hours after giving birth, or that Edward walked in on you doing so?”

“It was a morphine job,” she stated emphatically. “Not regular head. There’s a difference. I was stoned out of my mind and knew once they turned off the good drugs cock would be the last thing I wanted. I also knew that if I took care of Emmett, he’d take extra-good care of me.” She winked. “Besides, it’s cultural. Jewish girls love to give head.”

“Here I thought I’d never find a religion that suited me, but I’m totally down with fried food and fellatio. Do you have any idea what’s involved in converting?”

Rose giggled. “What surprised me was how mortified Edward was. He turned bright red. You’d think he’d never gotten a blow job in a semi-public place.”

“Uh, well, he hasn’t.”

“What?”

I mentally replayed our sexual history. “I sucked him off in the communal shower of his dorm once, but I think that’s the closest he came.” I giggled at my word choice. “Pun intended, of course.”

“That surprises me.”

“That he came? Give a girl some credit. I have no gag reflex whatsoever, you know.”

“You’ve told me all about your mad skills in that department. I’m just surprised that your choices of location have been so…well…pedestrian.”

“Yeah, he’s not really into public places, with the possible exception of the Art Museum. He’d whip it out in a second if he thought there was a chance we’d get away with it. Sadly, security is incredibly attentive. Besides, it wasn’t the idea that you were giving head in your hospital room as much as it was the fact that Emmett is like a brother to Edward and he really didn’t need to see his cock.”

“Got it. This time, I’ll make sure Em closes the curtains.”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘this time’?”

She patted her still-flat stomach.

“Are you saying you’re expecting?”

“I am, indeed.”

“Mazel tov‚” I said, throwing my arms around her.

“Thank you. I’m due in August, so it’s still very early. We have concerns, of course, especially now that I’m what my doctor referred to as…” She raised her hands to make air quotes. “…advanced maternal age.”

“Whatever. You’re not even forty.”

“I know, but there are concerns regardless. Anyway, I’m still hugely excited, and of course Em can hardly contain himself. He’s convinced this one will be a girl and look exactly like me. I’m starting to wonder if he’s right. My sex drive was out of control when I was pregnant with David, and this time around I have almost no interest in peen whatsoever. Last night I had to watch an hour of porn to get me excited enough to get through fifteen minutes of reverse cowgirl. Thus the panties. I refuse to fake it, and finding my orgasm last night was a lot of work. I need a day off to regroup. Okay, I think we’re almost ready to eat. Why don’t you tell the boys to sit down?”

A few minutes later, we were seated around the dining room table feasting on latkes, brisket, kugel and these heavenly deep-fried honey puffs. After the table was cleared, Emmett followed Rose into the kitchen to help clean up, but insisted that Edward and I remain seated. He handed a dreidel to David, who placed it in front of me.

“You can spin it, but you’re supposed to sing,” he explained.

“Is that how it works?”

He nodded and looked at me expectantly. I didn’t know any Hanukkah songs, but I vaguely remembered one I’d heard on TV once. Not wanting to disappoint a little boy on a holiday, I started singing.

“Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel, I made you out of clay. And when you’re hard and ready…”

I heard Edward snort beside me just as Emmett swooped in from the kitchen and scooped David into his arms.

“I think we’re done singing with Aunt Bella.”

I turned and looked at Edward. He was laughing hysterically while Emmett appeared mortified.

“What did I do?” I asked.

Emmett just shook his head, before giving his son a quick tickle. “Say goodnight, David.”

David smiled at me. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” I blew David a kiss from across the table just as Edward sat down beside me.

When Emmett and David disappeared up the steps and I turned to Edward. “Seriously, what did I do?”

“You mean your x-rated version of a beloved Jewish children’s classic?”

“It was not x-rated‚” I insisted.

“I’ve never claimed to be an expert on Judaism‚ “Edward began, “but even I know that the phrase ‘hard and ready’ has no place in The Dreidel Song.”

“I’m quite certain those are the lyrics.”

“Right. And where did you learn the dreidel song?”

“South Park,‚”I admitted sheepishly.

Edward was overcome by his own laughter as Rose returned from the kitchen and placed a tray of cookies on the table in front of me.

“Rose, complete the following phrase for me: ‘Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel, I made it out of clay…’”

“And when it’s dry and ready, then dreidel I shall play.”

“Oh,‚”I said with a small giggle. “I guess I kind of fucked that up. Still, I would argue that nothing is ever ready when it’s dry.”

“Maybe not in your world,” Edward teased.

Rose’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I don’t want to know what this is about, do I?”

“Bella sang a dirty dreidel song to our son,” Emmett explained as he walked back into the dining room.

Rose thought for a moment. “You know, I never thought about it until now, but the lyrics do kind of lend themselves to that.”

Later that night, I thought about Rose’s pregnancy as I washed my face and got ready for bed. Judging by how far along Rose was, Edward must have known. It was odd that he didn’t mention it to me. I finished in the bathroom and joined him in bed, stretching out beside him and resting my head on his chest.

“Rose and Emmett are expecting again. She’s due in August.”

“I know. Emmett told me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wasn’t my news to tell.”

“Surely Emmett doesn’t expect you to keep secrets from me. It’s not like he keeps secrets from Rose.”

“I wasn’t actively not telling you. I just…”

“What?”

“I still have moments where I feel as though your consent to do the traditional stuff—you know, getting married and having kids—is still somewhat tenuous, and I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

Wait. What?

“When did I agree to have kids?”

He smiled at me nervously. “If memory serves me right, that question got me a ‘maybe’.”

I wasn’t sure which I hated more; the idea that he still didn’t feel at ease with me, or the knowledge that his inability to feel so was entirely of my own making.

“You know how Rose has always wanted to be a mother?”

He nodded.

“I’m not like that. If it doesn’t happen for me, I can’t honestly say that I would feel like I missed out. And though people would say that I’m young, and that my feelings will probably change as I age, at twenty-nine I feel like I’m old enough to know. That being said, though I’m somewhat ambivalent about motherhood in general, I want very much to have your child.”

I didn’t have a chance to complete my thought. Edward’s lips crashed into mine and soon I was so lost in our kiss I forgot I had more to say.

“I want to taste it.”

Except for that, of course. I licked a trail down Edward’s chest, but rather than kneel between his thighs, I swung my legs up by his head. Sensing my intent, he pulled my knees up onto his shoulders. He swept his tongue along my slit before pushing two of his fingers inside me. The feeling was so amazing I nearly forgot why we’d changed positions. Then his cock twitched before me, and I suddenly just needed to lick it.

I traced my tongue around the head and over the slit, his moans of pleasure causing vibrations against my own slick flesh. Grasping his shaft in my hands, I took him into my mouth as deeply as our positions would allow. My orgasm seemed to trigger his, and I was still trembling with its aftershocks when he released into my mouth.

I rolled off him and flipped around, so my head was once again against his chest. We lay in silence for several moments, and I’d actually thought Edward had fallen asleep before he spoke.

“Did you mean it?”

My first impulse was to make a joke about meaning every lick and squeeze, even though I knew he was talking about having children, not sex. Though sexual innuendo was always easier for me, in this context, Edward deserved far more than that.

I had a sudden image of a little boy with Edward’s wild red hair and huge green eyes banging out F√ºr Elise on my battle-weary upright piano.

“Yes,” I answered simply.

“I’m talking about parenthood.”

“I know. I want very much to have your children.”

I felt Edward laugh beneath me and propped myself on one elbow so I could see his face.

“What’s so funny?”

“Hanukkah truly is about miracles. First the oil lasted eight days in the temple, now this.”

He was right, of course, but not in the way he thought he was.

The miracle was that he loved me.