Sarah Liebowitz' Blog

Of course he left you standing there instead of taking you to his room. No man can fit between your thunder thighs, lady. Yossi, Netanya

Yes, all men are the same. Let me tell you about the guy I met in Eilat….. Aviva, Rishon-le-Zion

Entry for 10/16/06

It happened! We did IT and I'm a happy woman! I'm in love with Darren. I can't keep this to myself. It happened last Friday on Erev Sukkoth. I took off Friday from work to build my sukkah on the balcony of my apartment. Sukkoth is my very favourite holiday because it's like going camping and sleeping under the stars but I can still have my modern conveniences in my apartment. I put my air mattress on the balcony just before it was time to light the Shabbat candles. I was about to have some supper when my pelaphone rang. It was Darren and he sounded very unhappy.

"Say, Miss Sarah, my tour to Petra got back to my hotel very late and all the restaurants seem to be closed for this here Sabbath of yours. I'm really hungry. Can you tell me where I can find anything better to eat than a chocolate bar from the machine in the lobby?"

I couldn't believe it. Darren not only called me back but he needed me. I didn't let the opportunity drop. "Wait in the lobby of your hotel and I'll come and get you. I think I can make you something better to eat than a candy bar."

I threw my dressing gown on the bed and threw on a long dress. I even skipped underwear to save a few seconds. I had to find Darren before he found a restaurant and got away from me. On the way back to my apartment, he complained that my car was too small and that no black man would ever drive a Suzuki. I reminded him that he wasn't in America and that Israelis can't afford to drive those big cars like Americans do. Anyway, I was having too much fun running my hand up and down his thigh as I shifted gears. His thigh was all muscle, not at all soft and fat. My genitals began to tingle from the feel I was giving Darren. To get my mind off the thing that lay between his thighs, I made some small talk on the way back to my apartment.

"So, tell me why your tour so late getting back to Eilat, Darren?"

"One of the New York tourist agents took out Israeli citizenship when he was a teenager backpacking through Israel. He forgot that that he had to have an Israeli Passport to get back into Israel. The border guards really hassled the guy but I had no trouble. I must say that it's really delightful to be in a country that treats black folks better than they treat their own citizens. Which reminds me, it's really nice of you, Miss Sarah, to help me out of a tough spot like this."

"I think it's only fair to make sure you've eaten after the nice dinner you gave me last night. Here's my apartment building."

When we got up to my apartment, the Shabat candles were still burning. Of course, the next thing he noticed was my bed out on the balcony. Darren had an inquisitive look on his face as if he was trying to resolve whether I was planning a romantic dinner for someone else or whether he was the one I was planning to seduce. I explained that it was Sukkoth and that Jewish people slept and ate in a Sukkah for eight days, the same way they did during the harvest season in ancient Israel. That's why I replaced the balcony awning with palm leaves and why I had my bed out here. I explained that the candles were a Jewish custom to begin Shabat. Then it occurred to me that I should make it a romantic evening and use Jewish customs to my advantage.

"It is forbidden to work on Shabbat. Tonight is Erev Sukkoth so we must be twice as careful to avoid working on a double Shabbat. It's work to start a fire or turn on electric lights, so we're eating by candlelight tonight. On Sukkoth, it's a mitzvah (commandment) to have a meal in your sukkah so we'll eat some cold salads on the balcony. That way we'll avoid lighting a fire and our dinner will be kosher."

I explained all the laws of Kashrut as I set out the food and the wine. I wasn't surprised that Darren knew all about the origins of kosher cooking from the Tanach, even the chapter in Devarim (Deuteronomy) where the rules of kashrut are first set out. Darren expressed some surprise that orthodox Jews drank wine on Shabbat. I had heard that some sects of the goyim were against alcohol and perhaps Darren belonged to one of them. I explained that not only did Jews drink wine but we were commanded in the Talmud to get drunk on the feast of Purim. Then I surprised Darren by pointing out that it was a Jew who wrote to a Christian that he should "take some wine for your stomach." Actually, I heard that saying from an alcoholic Russian Jew, not by reading the Christian writings.

We ate slowly by the light of the Shabbat candles. I know that I was doing too much talking, probably the fault of being a woman. I asked him what were his customs and traditions since he was the first Afro-American that I ever met. I didn't know what I was letting myself in for because he started to pour out his heart about how his traditions grew out of their painful history of poverty and slavery. Black history, Darren explained, resulted in the distinctive black music and in soul food, which valued the parts of animals their white masters wouldn't eat. It also explained why black men were attracted to "thick" women, as he called me. In the slave milieu, big women were valued for their ability to work in the fields and to have lots of children.

That cleared up my misgivings about last evening. Darren really considered me attractive. Perhaps he really did want me. I decided to test out my theory. I said to leave the dishes because that would be work. I wanted him to see the view of Aqaba across the Gulf from my balcony. I took him by his hand. It was the first time we actually touched. His hands were large, warm and soft. His grip was strong but very gentle. I felt as if I had a gentle giant on my balcony.

As we watched the lighted cruise boats leaving the harbour in Aqaba, a gentle breeze blew in from the Gulf. We were standing so close that it whipped some of my hair into Darren's face. He brushed my hair aside and, in doing so, touched my ear. He stopped, looked me in my eyes. He said that I was beautiful and drew my face to his. I didn't resist and he kissed me. He put his arms around me and drew all of me to his body. It wasn't just his thighs that were solid muscle. His whole body was solid like a rock. He was an athlete, as he said.

We embraced for the longest time and our kisses became deeper and more intense. He placed his hand on my breast, caressing my hard nipples through my dress. Then, his tongue penetrated into my mouth. It was the first time that he entered my body and I felt a trickle of liquid between my thighs. His tongue tasted sweet but it was so large that it filled my mouth. I became aroused by speculating as to whether his other appendages were as large as his tongue. When he finally broke off the kiss, I was breathless with excitement.

I gasped, "I want you Darren. I want to know you intimately right now. I haven't been with a man for over a year and I'm every bit as frustrated as one of your church women. Your Christian writings say that it's wrong to deny yourself to me. Take me now, Darren" OK, I wasn't sure if that's exactly what Darren said about his Scriptures but I wanted him so much I was willing to try anything. The clincher was when I begged: "Please be gentle with me. It's been so long."

"I really want to do my Christian duty with you, Miss Sarah, but isn't it a religious holiday for you? I mean are you allowed to have sex on one of your religious holidays?"

"Of course we are. It's Shabbat and it is written that a Jew who has sex on Shabbat performs a mitzvah. Sukkoth makes this Shabbat a double Shabbat so that, if I have sex today, I do a double. And, if you act according to what your Christian writings say, then it's a triple mitzvah for both of us. It's a religious duty for both of us to make love tonight?

Darren performed his religious duty with enthusiasm. God, he was strong. He placed me gently on the bed as if I weighed almost nothing. He took my dress by the hem and slowly uncovered my legs until I was naked to the waist. He didn't even ask why I was "going combat". He just stared admiringly at my bush. He stood up and just as slowly took off his trousers. Darren then dropped his briefs down revealing the most incredible zain I have ever seen.

I heard stories from my fellow travel agents about the well-endowed African men they met on tours of Kenya. I assumed that they were just trying to impress their fat, ugly friend, but it's all true. His length and girth were inconceivable, hanging down nearly to his knees, over two huge baytzim as oversized as his zain. Darren's zain was long and thick but that wasn't the thing that fascinated me the most. I was most intrigued by the flap of skin surrounding the tip of his zain. All the zain I had seen in my life until this moment were circumcised, even the goyishe Canadian tourist who was the last guy……Well, that's another story. Right now I'm talking about Darren. I had my first black man and my first uncircumcised zain the same evening.

I opened my legs as wide as I could, the way Darren said the elder's wife spread her legs. Darren knelt between my thighs and spread me apart with one hand and ran his zain up and down my slit. He was so gentle that I felt his foreskin tickling my inner lips and my clitoris. His zain hardened and then the head poked out from his foreskin. "Get ready for the lay, Miss Sarah. I'm going in now." I appreciated the warning because I felt enormous pressure at the opening of my vagina as he tried to push into me.

I groaned a little from the pain. Darren held his zain in place as he leaned forward to kiss me. "You're one tight woman down there, Miss Sarah. This may hurt you a bit until I get it in a little more." Then he got back up on his knees and I peeked down between my legs. I saw that only the head of his black cock was inside me but I felt stretched to my limits. His large hands began massaging their way up my legs to my tuches. The contrast of his dark skin on my white thighs was so erotic. Then, ever so slowly and gently, he worked his hands over my big tummy and under my dress to my breasts. His hands felt so good on my breasts. My soft moaning became louder as he slowly entered me. I still felt pressure but I was now feeling pleasure as Darren worked his long, thick zain slowly inside me. Suddenly I had an orgasm.

I thought it was all over, so I looked down and realized Darren had only half of his big zain inside of me. He leaned down to kiss me and to stroke my face and breasts some more. His stomach pressed against mine from the outside and I could feel his zain pushing my insides up into my stomach. I was so uncomfortable that I broke off the kiss. I hoped I wouldn't break the mood but I had to tell him what to do.

"Darren, we're both so big that you'll never get it all in like that. Hold me by the legs and give it to me in that position."

He got back up, holding my legs high with my feet against his shoulders. How can I put it politely other than he really began to fuck me. Each time he lunged forward, his zain pushed its way further inside me until his balls slapped loudly against my big tuches. I think I had an orgasm on every other stroke. I thought to myself, "This can't get any better" when I felt him shooting inside of me. I screamed, not from pain, but from the best orgasm of my life. All too soon, Darren pulled out of me and rolled over on his side. I was coming down from my orgasm but I wanted more. I appealed to his religious sensibilities.

"Darren, a double Shabbat requires a double mitzvah. I want seconds"

But he was already asleep. I might have been insulted but the trip to Petra is very tiring. I forgave him and let him sleep. I pulled off my dress and we slept together in the sukkah. We're both so big that there wasn't much room on the mattress. However, we both slept soundly, naked under the stars.

When I woke up the next morning, I ached between my legs from the pounding I had gotten the night before. Yes, I was sore but I ached for more of that beautiful zain. I reached across the bed to kiss Darren for the wonderful ride he gave me the night before but all I felt were sheets. "Ohmigod," I thought. "He's no better than the Israeli men who get up and leave after they've had their way with me." Then I heard the shower running and I knew that Darren wasn't at all like Israeli men.

I went to the sherutim and entered the shower stall. "Darren, I'm going to scrub your back for you."

Two big people in one shower stall didn't leave Darren any place to get away from me. I scrubbed his back and, while he was rinsing the soap off his back, I started soaping his big zain and his two baytzim. Darren got hard immediately. I rinsed off his zain, shut the water off and toweled down my black lover. It was then that I realized that, while I was admiring his zain, Darren was staring at me as well. I thought he was disgusted with my big, fat body so I tried to cover myself with the towel.

"God, Sarah, don't hide on me. I just love that thick body of yours."

I was thrilled, not only because it was the first flattery about my body that I ever heard but Darren stopped calling me "Miss Sarah". Darren grabbed the towel and dried me all over, paying special attention to the space between my legs. His zain was growing visibly and the head peeked slightly from the foreskin now. This was an opportunity not to be wasted.

"You can't have any excuse this morning about being tired. You've had a good night's rest, if your snoring was any indication. Now, I'm going to have the seconds you wouldn't give me last night."

I led him by the zain to the living room couch. His zain just kept getting bigger and harder in my hand with every step I took. I made him lie on the couch and then I took his zain into my mouth. It filled my mouth and tasted slightly soapy. I think there was still some soap caught under his foreskin. Every guy I've ever had, I've had his zain in my mouth but I've never had one that stretched my mouth the way Darren's did. And I never tasted an uncircumcised zain until I met Darren.

I got up on the couch and squatted to get his zain at the opening of my vagina. I was afraid that it would be painful and it did hurt just a little bit as the tip of his zain entered me. But I was very wet again and he slipped in easily. In fact it went in easier than last night. I guess I was getting used to such a big zain. He wasn't even halfway in when his tip touched my g-spot. Since I was on the top, I put just the right pressure on it and came stronger than I had ever come before. All my insides were twitching and contracting and I guess I squeezed Darren so hard that he came as well. I could feel his cum squishing inside me as I moved slightly after he stopped groaning from his orgasm. But Darren wasn't finished yet and I wasn't finished with him. He didn't go soft at all. I went for thirds and started to push down harder to get him further and further inside me. He went so deep into me that I felt my guts pushing up into my stomach. I had the feeling that my tummy was full and I didn't eat a thing for breakfast.

I was paying too much attention to myself when Darren's eyes rolled back and all I saw was white circles surrounded by black eyelids as if I was looking at two moons in the night sky. His body was all covered with perspiration. He smelled so manly. Darren screamed and groaned as I rose and fell on his zain, pushing and pulling the huge object in and out of me, with our tummies flapping together at the same time. I'm absolutely sure that I got all of him into me that time. He was so big that it wasn't any trick to squeeze him tight with my abdominal muscles. Now it was me who was giving Darren the ride of his life. Finally he couldn't last any longer and he came again.

We showered again, got dressed and had breakfast. Since it was Shabbat, our talk seemed to turn naturally to religion. It turned out that we had the same moral values and outlook in life despite Darren being a religious Christian and me a somewhat indifferent Jew. That surprised me because my father always told me never to trust the goyim. The "Wicked Gentiles" he always called them. In fact, my father never used the word goy without adding wicked or evil to it. Darren didn't seem at all wicked to me – in fact, I had never met a nicer guy up until that point. Well, my father wasn't there to tell me what to do or not to do – or my mother for that matter. The more I talked with Darren, the more I wanted to have a serious relationship with him. Then, as usual, I talked too much and broke the spell.

"Darren, I love you. I want you to stay forever. You can't leave me lonely the way the others have."

"Well, Miss Sarah, you've been kind to me and we really hit it off but my tour is leaving Eilat tonight as soon as your Sabbath is over. I've got to get back to my hotel and pack my stuff."

"Shabbat doesn't end until sundown tonight. At least stay with me until the afternoon. You'll see how ordinary Israelis entertain themselves on Shabbat. I'll get you back to your hotel in plenty of time to pack."

We spent the rest of the day strolling around the tourist areas until about 1500. On the pretense that the afternoon sun was too hot, I suggested that we go back to his hotel room where we could turn on the air conditioner. Then we could pack in comfort with plenty of time to spare before his tour had to leave. That was what I said but what I really wanted was one more love-making session before he left. As sore as I was from the two poundings Darren had given me, I wanted still more.

The desk clerk shot us a disapproving look as we walked arm in arm through the lobby. I don't know whether it was because I was obviously intending to know a Cushi or whether he thought that fat people had no right to be happy. I was horny just thinking about having Darren one more time and it showed. Darren turned on the air conditioner as I closed the door, making sure the "Do Not Disturb" sign was prominently displayed. We embraced wordlessly, kissing long and deeply. Love-making before departure is no time to talk. I just said "Darren, this time take me any way you want. Do whatever you want with me."

Darren slowly unzipped my dress. Omigod, his touch was so gentle that I almost melted. I didn't object at all. I just closed my eyes, hoping, no, wanting him to take me back where I'd been earlier in the day when I bounced up and down on his huge zain. He slid my dress down over my arms but my hips are so wide that my dress hung around my waist. Darren took me in his strong arms and laid me down on the bed. Then he stood up and reached under my hips to remove my dress leaving me just in my lingerie. Even though my eyes were closed, I sensed him watching me, admiring my creamy, smooth skin and, yes, my thick muscular thighs.

I heard soft rustling sounds as Darren undressed. I had to open my eyes and see Darren's beautiful uncircumcised zain once again. He was erect and he was long and thick. The purple tip was exposed as the foreskin was drawn back over the ridge of his tip. Darren wanted me as much as I wanted him. He leaned down and kissed me gently on the mouth, on my cheeks and forehead, my neck. The hotel bed creaked as he lay his heavy body down beside me. Then he began to lovingly and gently caress every part of me. His hand roamed along the back of my legs and along the side of my body. It felt so relaxing and erotic. As Darren kissed my breast, I felt the heat of Darren's mouth on my nipple, teasing it sucking it, nibbling it. Somehow, he had undone my brassiere without me noticing. He repeated caressing and sucking my breasts many times. I was so aroused by this I could hardly contain myself. His fingers lightly ran up and down my thighs. His fingers drew circles on my belly, making me quiver. I wanted him; I wanted to tell him to just put it in but I didn't. I needed to prolong this moment, the last time we would be together perhaps forever.