Kerri nodded.
"You
brought
a vibrator on your
honeymoon
?" Amanda said, grinning. "What, did you think Winston wouldn't satisfy you?"
"
You're
one to talk," Kerri said, laughing.
So they went to the spa, something Amanda had never done before. She let Kerri walk her through the process and recommend the various treatments. Amanda herself felt very out-of-place--walking around with only a robe on, having all these people fuss over her--but Kerri urged her to enjoy it, and Amanda had to admit that she had never been pampered like this in her life... and maybe would not be again, for a long time. Kerri walked her through a mud bath, a whirl in a hot tub, and finally a massage that left Amanda feeling as though her muscles had all turned to goo. At least she was getting used to the idea of being around someone while she had no clothes on. Most of them were women, and most of the time she at least had a towel draped over her, but there it was nonetheless.
They stopped for a late lunch, and unfortunately by the time they had gotten back to the room, Amanda had been forced to trade that delicious gelatinous relaxation for a much more rigid stance--one, at least, that was capable of walking. Too, she had begun to work herself into a state of high anxiety over the prospect of masturbation. The simple fact was, she had no idea what to expect, and she didn't like the idea of having to walk in blind. What exactly did a vibrator do? What if it was painful? What if she somehow misapplied it and damaged herself? She kind of wanted Kerri to stay in the room with her... But she couldn't decide which was more embarrassing: having to masturbate, or having to masturbate with Kerri watching.
When Kerri handed over the vibrator it was smaller than she'd expected--a little plastic bullet smaller than the length of her little finger. But even that had its own pitfalls. Was she supposed to put that inside her, like a penis? What if she lost it? How embarrassing would that be? What would she tell a doctor? What would she tell
Kerri
??
Maybe some of this was clear on her face, because Kerri sighed and put the vibrator on the nightstand. "Amanda, sit down. I want you to just concentrate on breathing..." She felt Kerri's hands kneading her shoulders, shifting deep into the muscle, melting away some of the tension.
"God, Kerri," she breathed. "You're really good at this."
"You pick up some things in life," said Kerri, and Amanda heard the grim smile. "Now, I want you to lie back..." Gentle hands helped smooth her down to the covers. "And, I want you to just relax and be calm. And then, whenever you feel the spirit move you... I want you to just reach down and play around with yourself. Nothing weird, nothing goofy... Just the most natural thing in the world. This is your body--the one God gave you, so that you could please yourself and your husband. Why don't you spend some time getting to know it?" When Kerri put it that way, it seemed so much less... bizarre.
"If you need me, I'll be in my room," Kerri said, and shut the door behind her, leaving Amanda alone.
She wasn't at all sure how she should start this process. Be calm, Kerri had said. Very well. She began by breathing--nothing more, just breathing--and trying to listen to everything that was going on around her. The rough cotton of the bedspread; the whoosh and swish of the waves outside; the cool air-conditioned air on her skin. Her name was Amanda Greer. There would never be in all of human history another person quite like her.
She was a woman. That could mean any number of things, depending on the circumstances. It meant being shorter and having a higher body-fat percentage; it meant being less prone to certain types of cancer, living longer average life spans. It meant not having the vote until the early 1900s, being looked down upon and guarded, not being allowed outside unless chaperoned in some countries and eras. It meant having to endure whistles, jeers, cat-calls, unwanted flirtation; it meant being a second-class citizen in a world that, despite everyone's best efforts, was still a male-dominated society. It meant menstruation, monthly cramps, sanitary napkins; it meant breasts, ovaries, fallopian tubes. It meant being able to bring forth life out of her body, being able to bear children. And it meant a vagina, and it meant a clitoris.
At least I know about
those.
It could be much worse.
She let her fingers wander over her own body, testing, tasting. What did a man think when he felt what she felt now? Her breasts were heavy, the C-cups so beloved of modern America; she had small nipples but large areolas. If one day she should bear children, she would nourish them from those breasts. Today, though... Well, Patrick seemed to like them; he seemed to like them a great deal.
Her belly was flat, but not as taut as once it had been; she'd been meaning to hit the gym, but never had time before the wedding happened. Below was pubic hair, dark and ruffled, and below that her own feminine secrets. It
was
funny, now that she thought about it, that she had been so discouraged from exploring her own body. Weren't these
her
secrets? Why should she ignore them?
Still, she wasn't entirely sure how to go about this whole 'explore yourself' thing.
Her hand down her pants, she began to re-acquaint herself with the geography; half-remembered anatomy lessons floated through her head. Here was the outer padding; down here was her rear; there was her clitoris--ooh, too sensitive. Her opening she found easily enough as well; she was always aware of this area, she realized, but just didn't tend to pay a lot of attention to it. She was sure the same must be true of anyone else.
She felt a little silly, lying here with her hand down her pants. So, after a moment's thought, she shimmied out of them, leaving herself bare from the waist down. A moment later her shirt was off too; her bra followed it, and now she was as naked as she'd been in the spa. She hoped Patrick wouldn't walk in right then; that would be too embarrassing to be borne.
Her fingers continued their walking tour of her body. Now she could spend more time on herself--on the smooth texture of her own skin, the tiny bumps ringing her areolas, the softness of her pubic hair. Still, her main goal was to learn to understand this pleasure thing her body promised.
It soon became clear that just touching her clitoris directly was not going to work: oh, sure, it made her feel something, but those feelings were so strong they were almost dizzying. Did it feel that way to Patrick when his penis was being touched? Or was it because her clitoris was so much smaller?--the same number of nerves being packed into a very dense package. Whatever the case, she soon found that she could achieve something by, not stimulating her clit directly, but by moving her fingers up and down on her mound right near her clit.
That was when she felt it--a tingling sensation that swept through her, faint but unmistakable. She had never felt anything like it before, but she knew instantly that this was what she was seeking. It was ticklish, almost, and a little bit squirmy, but it made her whole body feel alive... And her whole mound tingle. And she knew that, whatever this was, she wanted more.
She began to masturbate in earnest (at least, assuming this
was
masturbating) and soon she noticed that there was wetness under her hand. Had she urinated on accident? There didn't seem to be enough of it, and when she raised her hand to her nose the smell was not the sickly scent of urine, but rather something more acrid. She decided to ask Kerri about it later. And, as she moved her hand back down, her arm brushed against her breasts and she noticed, almost by accident, that her nipples were tight and hard, as though in cold weather. But it wasn't
that
cold. The connection was to remember back to that first night with Patrick--all of sixty hours ago--when this had happened too. She'd wondered about it at the time, but decided not to ask; obviously, he'd had other things on his mind, and she too. Now she began to wonder if all this was normal.
Curious, she slipped one finger inside herself, encountering ridges and folds half-remembered from childhood exploration. She noted that her whole area seemed more slippery--and that the moisture she had encountered seemed to be coming from inside her. Of course, she could hardly say with any certainty, but maybe this was her body's way of making intercourse easier. Another thing her classes hadn't covered--when she first heard about sex, she had wondered how this could possibly be comfortable. Would her vagina grow substantially as she passed puberty? It hadn't. Would it be rough and painful to have sex? All in all, it had seemed as though sex must be something you only did to have babies; surely there was nothing else to recommend it.
Boy, was she learning.
Now she had lots of questions, and so she donned her clothes again to go ask Kerri for some help. True to her word, Kerri was lounging in the common area of the suite, reading a book. "Hmm, is that pussy juice I smell?" she cried.
"...'Pussy'?" said Amanda. " 'Juice'?"
Kerri took the hand Amanda had used down below and smelled it. "Yep, that's pussy juice. Amanda, you've come a long way!"
"So it's
supposed
to make that stuff?" said Amanda.
"Well, of course it is!" Kerri exclaimed. "How else do you make yourself hot and wet for your man! Did you come? Did you have an orgasm?"
Well, evidently there's still a lot more to go,
Amanda thought. "No, I didn't wanna strain myself, you know? Like you said, I've come a long way."
"That you have, that you have," Kerri agreed. "But don't forget to try it, hon. It's the best!"
Amanda was sure that Kerri might've dug further, but that was when the men returned--Winston in his plaids, Patrick with his silly visor that she'd always laughed at. They seemed to have had a
very
productive day, at least as far as the golf chatter seemed to indicate: topics ranged from the consistency of the fairway (excellent) to the quality of the golf clubs available for rent (excellent) to their overall scores that day (excellent, with both of them convinced that, with a little luck, he would've beat the other). They were so excited they could barely sit down; eventually Kerri plunked herself down in Winston's lap to get him to calm down. It seemed to work, and it certainly saved Amanda any embarrassment when she decided to do the same thing. Her explorations in the bedroom had made her suddenly and intimately conscious of Patrick's presence in her life. He had been a perfect gentlemen for the three years of their courtship, and an even bigger one for the three days of their marriage; he had unending patience and a generosity of heart, and she felt sure that, given time and what she'd learned Kerri that morning, he could've brought her to the arousal and understanding she'd gained for herself, but in a lot faster time. As it was, she couldn't wait until they could be alone together and she could put her knowledge to good use. (Suddenly she realized that he must have felt much the same eagerness about her, except for the past three years. This, if anything, only strengthened her resolve.)
