6 comments/ 24864 views/ 2 favorites Sarah Liebowitz' Blog By: miskeivitch Author's Note: I wrote this story to protest the way we treat fat people. Fat people have the same feelings as you and I do. Fat people just want to be accepted, and then left alone to live and love in peace. Think about this: the last time you worked out, was it somebody fat who screamed for you to "Go for the burn?" No, that was your hardbody personal trainer who said that, am I not correct? Has a fat person ever told you that the food on your plate was unhealthy and full of transfats? No, it was that thin, preachy, yoga-practicing neighbour of yours. Have you ever seen a fat terrorist? No, it's the skinny people who do all those annoying things in your life, yet the fat people are the ones you insult. Put aside your prejudices about fat people and learn how they live and love. Sarah Leibowitz first appeared in my story, "In Search of Tamar Ch. 3". MakomSheli.xx.xx: Sarah Leibowitz Gender: Female Status: Single Age: 29 Sign: Virgo City: EILAT State: Country: ISRAEL Signup Date: 09/09/06 Entry for 09/15/06 Since this is my first time on MakomSheli.xx.xx, let me tell you something about myself. I'm 29 years old, female and straight. My height is medium and I have brown hair and blue/gray eyes. Some people might say I'm full-figured. I like to think of myself as larger than life but soft and cuddly. As you can see from my photo, I dress fashionably. I believe that I'm personable. I think of myself as a friendly person but I don't like being used. I speak Hebrew, English and Russian. I learned my English partly from high school but mostly from listening to the BBC with my best friend. My parents came from Russia and so we spoke Russian in our home. Oh yes, my parents tried to keep their secrets from us by speaking Yiddish but I picked up a bit of that as well and learned a lot that I wasn't supposed to know. My family wasn't religious. I consider myself a traditional Jew, rather than a religious Jew. For all that, I like to keep a kosher kitchen because it's healthier and I observe all the religious holidays. My favourite movie of all time is "Bridget Jones' Diary". Renée Zellweger looks so healthy and plump in that movie, not emaciated the way she was in "Chicago". I just love Renée plump and Jewish, the way she was in "A Price Above Rubies". Don't you just love her big tushie? And how about the way Gwyneth Paltrow ballooned up in "Shallow Hal"? Gwyneth is half-Jewish, did you know that? My favourite singer is Sarit Hadad. I love Sarit's voice and the way she isn't at all conscious about her weight. My favourite TV show is "Ugly Betty". Don't you think America Ferrara is just as cute as she can be? More about me. I graduated from Trumpeldor High in Beersheva, maybe not with honours but I was well up in my class. I must have been the only Ashkenazi in my graduating class. I've had some success in the business world since then. I own a tourist agency here in Eilat. I'm not rich but I own my apartment and I own my car. Unlike most Israelis I have no debts; in fact, I've got money in the bank. The only thing I don't have is a boyfriend. The reason I joined MakomSheli.xx.xx was so that I might meet someone nice. Is anybody interested in having a satisfying relationship with a nice, hardworking woman? Comments: Come off it lady. You're fat and ugly. You're lonely because nobody wants a whale like you for a girlfriend. Give me a nice, slim Yemeni woman anytime. Yochi, Herzliyah So you have no debts. What are you, some kind of fool who believes in the shekel? Don't be so high and mighty, you fat, ugly old miser. Spend some money or all the rest of us will be out of work. Devorah, Yavneh Can I send you a book about Moshiach in Russian? Yitzi, Jerusalem Entry for 09/21/06 Yochi, that was very hurtful what you said about my weight. I've always been teased about my weight. When I was thirteen I weighed 55 kilo. My school chums were just as brutal as you, Yochi so I decided to prove myself by applying to a modeling agency. They told me to go away and lose weight before they would even consider teaching me how to model. I starved myself to the point that I was passing out. When I sat down to eat, I chewed up the food and spit it in a napkin. One day at Trumpeldor High, I passed out and was rushed to the hospital. I told my mother that I was starving myself to lose weight so that I could model. She gave me some advice that I live by today and that is, "If you're good enough for Adonai (the Lord), then you're definitely good enough for everyone else. If people don't like the way you are, then they can kiss your tuches." I won't be blogging on MakomSheli.xx.xx for a couple of weeks. Feel free to visit my site and look at some of the poetry I wrote. The reason I won't be on the Net is because I was approached by both the Mayor of Eilat and the Chairman of the Tourist Board to work on a trade show that will start the week after Yom Kippur. What it means is that I'll be doing all the work and the Mayor and Chairman will get all the credit, if the trade show is a success. If the trade show is a flop, I'll get the blame. Well, that's the life of any woman who isn't a fashion model. I need to be twice as good as the beautiful people to get recognized. That's why I must make this show a success. I'm told that there will be a large delegation of tourist agents from the United States, so I'll tailor the show for their needs. The Tourist Board wants to promote Eilat as an international destination beginning with the Americans. I'll get the best convention room and organize displays in English. Well, maybe that's why they chose me to work on the show. I learned English while all the beautiful tourist agents spent their nights flat on their backs underneath the Mayor and Chairman. Tourists from the United States can be such a pain, especially the goyim. They always expect everything to be exactly like in Podunk, Iowa. They never understand why they can't get a cheeseburger in a restaurant with a kosher license. They don't like Israeli music, they don't try to understand our culture and they always complain about the heat in Eilat. I'll try my best to pander to their quirks but it's difficult promoting Eilat as a tourist destination to people such as that. Comments I agree with you that tourists can be a real pain but they bring a lot of foreign exchange into the country. Try not to whine or complain to them like you're doing now. Oren, Kiryat Gat I don't want to complain too much but right now I now have a kassam rocket in my garden. Aren't the problems you might have in your personal life or with your weight insignificant compared to mine? Gavi, Sderot Entry for 10/13/06 All my work paid off. The show was a great success, even though the Mayor and the Chairman of the Tourist Board took all the credit for themselves, as I expected. I was the host and introduced the dignitaries but I could see the pretty tourist agents who couldn't organize a tour to the Dead Sea sitting in the front row ogling the politicians. Those women gravitate to power because they don't want to do any real work. Why aren't the hardworking, reliable people appreciated for keeping the world together? Despite being ignored, I had some fun at the trade show. Guess what? I met somebody interesting. After the other tourist agents put on their dog and pony shows in horribly accented English, I might add. Hell must employ Israeli travel agents with PowerPoint presentations. I went to my table to relieve my assistant, Tzipi. I anticipated that, once I sat down to promote our tours to Timna and to Petra, the American men would disappear. Tzipi is, to put it bluntly, knock-you-out gorgeous. She has big boobs, like a good Israeli woman, that the halter tops she always wears show off to her advantage. She always wears low-cut pants without any love handles hanging outside. Sure enough, as soon as I sat down and Tzipi went to powder her nose, all the Americans with blow-dried hair disappeared. I was rearranging my English brochures on the table when this huge good-looking black man came by and showed some interest in my tours. When I say huge, I mean in horizontal directions. You would probably call him fat but I liked his round shape. I spotted him in the audience while I was giving my presentation on the antiquities around Eilat. It wasn't difficult because he was the only black man among the American tourist agents and such a big man. He was so cute the way he hung over both sides of the chair. I was almost positive that he was trying to make eye contact with me while I was on the podium. He smiled at me so much that I couldn't miss his flash of white teeth. I just didn't think it was possible anybody could be attracted to me. We talked business for a while, tours and hotel availability. He's from the American state of Georgia and spoke with such a strange accent that I had trouble at first understanding his English. Finally, he asked my name so I told him and asked him his. He said he was Darren Brown. I called him Darren but he kept calling me Miss Liebowitz until I told him that Israelis were informal people and normally use only their first name in conversation. From then on, I was Miss Sarah to him. It looked like he was starting to ask me something when the Chairman of the Tourist Board announced that the Americans agents were scheduled to take a glass-bottomed boat tour of the coral reefs. He apologized that he had to leave but asked if I was available for dinner so he could continue our conversation and perhaps we could do some business. Of course, I accepted his invitation. Darren was as good as his word. He hooked up with me when his bus came back to the convention centre. He asked me where to eat that was quiet and nice so I suggested an outdoor restaurant down by the beach. Our dinner was leisurely and enjoyable. Darren really enjoys his food, something else that attracted me to him. He didn't mind that I ordered a lot of food for myself. That's quite unlike a date with Israeli guys. They're always in such a hurry to get the woman into bed that they go cheap on the dinner and try and get me to finish eating. I find that foreign guys are more patient, but I still end up paying for dinner. I really appreciated the way Darren didn't push at all. Still, Darren was all business during dinner. It seemed his main concern was how well equipped Eilat was to handle tours of religious Afro-Americans. That made me curious about his country: "I'm surprised because I thought that America was a secular, integrated country, just like Israel. Why is your particular clientele so religious and racially segregated?" "I can explain Miss Sarah but, first of all, I have to tell you about Black Church. (That's what Darren calls the church that Afro-Americans attend.) While Americans work and play together, they don't worship and pray together. Black Church has always been livelier than White Church. Frankly, white folks just don't seem to be having fun in their churches so we like to have our church the way we like it. I know that I don't look much like it but I used to be a Southern Baptist minister. One day, the faithful in my congregation asked me to lead them on a tour of the Holy Land. The trip was so successful that the Pentecostals and then the Seventh Day Adventists wanted a tour as well. I got a reputation for my tours in all the black churches throughout Georgia. I had almost no time for the preaching. I was making more money with the Holy Land Tour business than I was making as a preacher." I was curious why he wasn't a preacher any longer, because he had an authoritative voice and manner, just like our most important rabbis. I just knew that he was good at anything he did. However, the waiter came with the bill, looking as if he wanted to get off duty and go windsurfing. Darren paid for dinner (a welcome change) and I walked him back to his hotel. In the lobby, he shook my hand warmly enough but it was clear the evening was over, whether I wanted it to be or not. Then I heard some music from the lounge. It was an Israeli troupe putting on a show. That gave me an idea to prolong the evening and to learn more about my new male friend. "Darren, would you like to see how Israelis have fun? Maybe your clientele would like this kind of show when they visit Eilat?" That turned out to be a brilliant suggestion. Darren loved the show and he loved dancing to the music, even though he hadn't heard any of the songs that the troupe sang. Darren is a great dancer, very light on his feet. I heard that black men are good dancers and Darren proved to be no exception. More than that, he loved dancing with me. I don't like to brag but I can dance very well. It's just that I never get invited to dance. I don't know how long we danced but finally Darren asked if we could go sit down and have a drink. The perspiration was pouring off his head when we sat down. "Man, I haven't worked up a sweat like that since my college days when I played football for Georgia Baptist College." "You played football? I've never seen a football player as big as you are. Here in Israel, the football players are all little men, not big like you." "You're thinking of soccer, Miss Sarah. I played American football. Soccer is played with a round ball by skinny guys but American football is played by big guys with a long, skinny ball. Linemen like me are the biggest, toughest men in American football. We have to be big and tough to protect the skinny pretty boys who play in the backfield. I should have let a few linebackers through to sack the pretty boys for keeping all the women to themselves. Nah, revenge wouldn't be Christian and besides, I wanted to play in the NFL. I never got to the NFL, though. Being a Christian, I wouldn't take any drugs to play better. I'm not Barry Bonds. Well, I graduated, I got me a good church and I made myself a success, both as a preacher and now as a travel agent." Now was the time to satisfy my curiosity as to why he wasn't a preacher. "Let me guess. You became a travel agent instead of a komer because you made more money in the travel business?" "No, Miss Sarah, I had another reason for leaving the ministry. I left because an elder's wife came to me for marriage counseling." "I don't understand. Isn't that just part of a komer's job, to provide counseling services? Even our modern rabbis study psychology along side the Talmud." "Probably your rabbis don't get quite as involved in their work as I did. After a few sessions of talking to the woman and praying with her, it turned out that the problem in her marriage was that the elder was denying himself to her. That elder's wife was just plain sexually frustrated. You can look it up in the Bible but it's un-Christian for a man to deny his wife sex. So I, ummh, did the righteous thing for her and relieved her frustration right there on the desk in my vestry. I grabbed her by the hips and ground on her pussy until there was smoke between her thighs. She got up from my desk so happy that I saved her marriage she told all the frustrated women in my congregation that I had to be the world's greatest marriage counselor. She was very discreet, but her story spread wider than she spread her legs on my desk. Suddenly, I had half the women in the congregation asking me for counseling. Yes, things were going well in my ministry. My real problems began when my fame spread and women from the other black churches in town started attending my church. I never knew that there were so many unhappy marriages in our community that needed saving. Now I wasn't just humping the women in my congregation. I was stealing women members of the other preachers' flocks. So, before I got hauled up before the Georgia Ministerial Council, I left the preaching for the tourist industry. Since I was making more money arranging Holy Land tours than I made in the church, I quit as a preacher. Yet, the requests for my brand of marriage counseling didn't quit when I quit the pulpit. You have no idea how many God-fearing church women need sound biblical advice on the subject of marriage and marital salvation. My advice invariably was that they should take one of my tours of the Holy Land without their husbands. Invariably, I always returned happy women to their husbands. Do you know that this is the first trip I've made to Israel where I haven't counseled churchwomen by giving what they weren't getting from their husbands." Darren probably told me more than I wanted to know at that point but at least now I didn't need to ask him if he was sexually active. And I had to find out what all those women saw in him. From the beginning, I wanted him to take me up to his room and give me what I've been missing for so long. "I assume that all those women in the churches were black women, Darren. Uh, have you ever been with a white woman?" "I've never had any good experiences with white women. Until I met you, I thought white women were mostly bitches. For example, when I played college football those skinny white cheerleaders were interested in us black guys but only the quarterbacks and wide receivers. As I said, a lineman has to have some weight to protect the pretty quarterback's ass, excuse me, tush. As you can see, I'm short and stocky – skinny girls don't go for guys like me." "Darren, that's exactly how I get treated by men. They don't like big women like me. What I don't understand is why you had so much success with all your church ladies. Why didn't they treat you the same way the cheerleaders did?" "It's like this, Miss Sarah. Black folks are different from white folks in more ways than the colour of our skin. We've got ourselves a completely different culture. You can easily see it in our music or, like I say, in our churches. We also have different values when it comes to our bodies. In black society, we value size and strength, even in our women. It's a good thing to be 'thick' in your body." "I think I'm beginning to like you black people more and more. As an Afro-American, do you like my looks and my body type?" "Do I like how you look? Miss Sarah, I think you're one phat woman." I was so shocked when I heard him say that I was fat. I know that I'm a little on the heavy side but even Israeli men are refined enough not to call me shemenah. Darren must have seen the hurt look in my eyes because he started to explain himself. "You must think I said that you're fat, F-A-T. I didn't mean F-A-T at all, Miss Sarah. phat, P-H-A-T, is an acronym in Ebonics that black men use to describe a beautiful woman. It's an acronym for Perfect Hips, Ass and Tits. I'm sorry you misunderstood." We talked for a little while longer but it seemed as if the magic had gone out of the night. Instead of inviting me up to his room, Darren looked at his watch and said that he had to get up early the next day because he was taking a tour to Petra. I gave him my card with my pelaphone number but I don't expect much. He gave me his American business card, excused himself and left me watching the show. I feel so depressed right now. Did I blow it by being upset because I thought Darren was calling me fat? Will Darren call back or is he like all the skinny guys who back out while they can? Are all men the same? But if he does call me up, will it work out? I like Darren a lot but he isn't Jewish, he's Afro-American. He said that black people have a different culture. Can two people so different ever work it out? I'm just too excited and perplexed to get any sleep tonight. Comments It's me, your best friend Tamar. I just love your blogspot. Darren sounds perfect for you even if you have doubts. Don't let matters of race or religion get in the way of your happiness. I'm married to a goy and very happy. Tamar, Canada 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. Sarah Liebowitz' Blog He spoke to me in soft and soothing words while his hand ran through my hair. He lightly traced the outline of my face with his finger. He leaned over and kissed me gently. My body went almost limp. Then he moved down on me, tracing kisses over my stomach. When he got to my panties, he reached under my tuches and gently pulled my panties down my legs, casting them aside. He kissed my thighs and his tongue ran up the inside of my thighs close to but never touching my pussy. He teased me with his tongue and my hips shifted. I wanted him to taste me, but he was in control. I gave myself totally to his wishes. I thought that this was sexual torture, wonderful and yet painful. Darren brought his tongue lightly over my clitoris. I gasped and I raised my hips up to meet his mouth. Darren kept his distance so as to not push me over the top too soon. My desires, passions, wanton needs were his to command and control. His lips kissed a trail up my body until we were face to face again. He laid his body on top of me. He didn't enter me yet; he loved the feeling of being in control and having me any way he wanted. He cupped my face and kissed me again. I had to open my eyes to look into his beautiful brown eyes. I guess Darren saw my eyes soften and knew that I was ready. With one last kiss on my neck, Darren crawled down between my legs. His tongue ran up and down my slit, again and again but stopping short of my clitoris. His mouth made a kosher feast out of my pussy. My moans came louder and louder. "Darren, don't stop, don't stop!" I thought I would go insane. "OH God! Make me come. I can't take this anymore." He held me by the hips and his tongue slid over my clitoris with just enough pressure to push me over the top into orgasm. I screamed and my body convulsed as one wave of pleasure after another rocked me. My head thrashed back and forth and I moaned, "Yes, oh yes. God that feels good. Kiss me, please kiss me." He climbed beside me again and hungrily kissed me on the mouth. My face was flushed from the deep orgasm just experienced. After all this time, I had found my true love. "Darren, I want you so badly. Please let me love you back. I want you to fuck me. I need to feel you inside me, please." I must have sounded desperate because he rolled over between my spread legs. I eagerly held his zain in one hand and spread myself apart with the other hand. I put his zain at the opening of my throbbing vagina. He paused for only a moment before he entered me. My legs wrapped around his and I hungrily thrust my hips up to meet his. My vagina hugged his zain and we both moaned as he began his slow and deliberate thrusts. As our feelings intensified, Darren began thrusting into me deeper and faster. There had been an ache inside of me but now that was going away. My fingernails dug into his back. "Harder, fuck me harder. Make me feel everything and all of you!" Darren roughly squeezed my skin now, his fingers wrapped tightly around my hair. He bit my neck, "Yes, that's it, oh keep doing it, faster, fuck me faster." I grabbed Darren's tuches and held on. Finally I moaned, cried out and my body stiffened. Darren, thrust one last time deep inside me. I knew he had come because I could feel his semen squishing around inside me. Darren collapsed on top of me. I kept my arms around him and rubbed my legs up and down on his for as long as I could breathe. I'm absolutely positive that Darren got the best ride of his life. My whole body throbbed from our love making. I spoke first: "Can we just lie together for a while. I don't want to leave you just yet." "Sure, we can." he whispered. He rolled over and lay close to me with my head on his shoulder. For 15 minutes we didn't say anything except for our heavy breathing. I was so happy until the telephone rang. It was the leader of Darren's tour telling him that he had to get ready to leave for his flight to Sde Dov. We both dressed hurriedly and packed Darren's things even more quickly. It was painful to part at that moment. I cried uncontrollably when I got back to my empty apartment. Even Sukkoth gave me no more joy without Darren to share my sukkah. I only stopped sobbing when my pelaphone rang. It was Darren calling to let me know that he had arrived safely in Tel Aviv. I got his telephone number and his e-mail and snail mail addresses in America. He wants me to visit him as soon as possible. I want him to visit me here again without a tour with a fixed itinerary but we'll work it out. In the meantime, we'll chat on the Net or by telephone. Do you think I should ask him to be circumcised? I want him to last longer, plus it's healthier. I know that men are total babies when they need surgery. Comments You're nothing but an evil, filthy zonah, you daughter of Rechav. Imagine that, fornicating with an uncircumcised goy and he's a Shvartzi as well. It's loose, immoral women like you who bring all these troubles on Eretz Israel. That's why we lost the Second Lebanon War. Give up your evil ways before it's too late for all of us. Shlomit, Jerusalem