Page 94 of Kiwi Sin
I asked, “Won’t I go to Hell, though, if I do that?”
Her eyes were much too understanding. “I don’t think that’s really what people go to Hell for, do you?”
Oh. I had to consider that one. “I don’t know. I always heard you went to Hell for immorality.”
“Enjoying sex isn’t immoral,” she said. “No matter what you do, as long as you both want to do it. How can it be, especially if you’re married? Who does it hurt?”
“Uh … God? Because how my body feels when I think about those things … doesn’t that hurt God?”
“Why?” she asked. “Why would God make those things feel that good in our body if He didn’t want us to do them?” I couldn’t answer that, but I didn’t need to, because she went on. “The best thing would probably be for both of you to read about how to have an orgasm. How a woman has one, that is, because a man’s not much of a mystery. You can find heaps of articles, I’m sure. Especially if you’ve never had one.”
“You mean spill seed?” I asked. “Women don’t spill seed, though.” Now I was more than embarrassed. I was completely confused.
“At Mount Zion,” Laila said, “don’t they talk about sex being pleasurable for women?”
“Not exactly. The Prophet says it’s a woman’s duty, because men have needs, and it’s how you show your love and submission.”
Laila looked … something. Disgusted, maybe, and I thought,I shouldn’t have asked.What she said, though, was, “Knowing what you know now, feeling what you feel, don’t you thinkwomenhave needs, too? It sounds like you’re noticing thatyouhave needs. Isn’t that why you’re asking?”
“I thought I was just sinful, though,” I said.
“I’d say you’re normal,” Laila said. “All of that, what you’re feeling? That’s how a woman’s body is meant to feel. Isn’t it better, if it’s how you show love, if youwantto do it? If you enjoy doing it? If youlovedoing it?”
“Oh,” I said again. “Maybe you’re right, because that’s how Daisy says it is, even though it hurt before, with her husband. She says it’s lovely with Gray, though. I thought it must feel good, like eating something wonderful, or climbing into bed when it’s cold outside, but it feels odder than that in my body even just to think about, sort of warm and tingly and sometimes even worse, and I can’t even tell if it’s a good feeling or a bad one. It’s more like needing to sneeze, but not sneezing. Is that normal?”
She took my hand and squeezed it, so maybe it hadn’t been so bad to ask her. “Women have orgasms,” she said. “You don’t spill seed in the same way, but it’s every bit as much of an orgasm. The way your body’s reacting is part of it. Sexual arousal, is what that feeling is. I’ll find some articles for you, but tell him it’s important that he reads them, too, because pleasure is easier for a man. When he puts his penis in your vagina, that rubbing feeling he’ll get will make him have an orgasm, but it probably won’t for you, not by itself. So I’ll find you some articles. About female stimulation, and positions, and what he needs to do and so forth, so you canbothhave an orgasm, and get all the enjoyment you can out of it.”
“You know so much,” I said. “That would be awesome. Thank you.”
She said, “Trust me. I really don’t. But here’s an idea. Read the articles together. If you’re too embarrassed to do that—or to talk openly about birth control, by the way, andarrangebirth control—you’re not really ready to have sex. You may want to learn how to have an orgasm by yourself, too, because every woman’s body is different. That way, you can show him what works for you, because you’ll know.”
“You mean …” I couldn’t say this word, could I?“Masturbation?But girls don’t do that!”
Yes. I said it.
That was when the doorbell rang. That would be Laila’s next clients, so I jumped up to get ready, and I didn’t get a chance to tell Laila that masturbation wasn’t possible even if it were actually, you know, possible, because I’d go to Hell for sure.
If she gave me articles about sex, though, and I read about how a woman had an orgasm, or, worse,watchedhow, with naked bodies and noises and all … how was I going to stop myself from trying?
I had such a sinful body.
I needed to get married.
40
ONE SIDE OF THE RUBICON
Gabriel
At seven o’clock on Saturday night, Uriel and Raphael were still loading rubbish into the skip beside the house. As for me, I’d got out the industrial vacuum and was starting to get stuck in when I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned.
Oriana. Dressed in her overalls, with her hair in two plaits, because she’d been in the garden earlier. She was holding a platter of sandwiches and a pitcher.
I turned the hoover off, smiled at her, and said, “Hi.” I wanted to kiss her, but Uriel had just come back into the house and was casting a knowing glance at us, so—no.
She said, “I know it’s the last night. I thought you might have heaps still to do, so I brought sandwiches and lemonade.”
I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I looked at those sandwiches. “Cheers,” I said. “Uh … put them in the kitchen, I guess.”
