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  For the first few months of our relationship, my sexual identity and my body’s desires hardly came up, except in the arena of learning how to be charming with the women, friendly with the men. I knew that Julio had lovers, but she never talked about them. For her part, she must have been aware that I was sexually frustrated and longing for release. Longing for release, but innocent, or only mildly soiled. Julio knew, and finally took pity on me; though when she began to address my sexual desires, it didn’t feel like pity. It felt like a rite of passage, exhilarating and terrifying.

  Julio started slow, with kisses and caresses on my lips and face. She had begun to bring up courting women, and sex, as topics of conversation. It was difficult, especially at first, to reveal my ignorance. But at appropriate points, my teacher would lean over and touch her lips to mine, sending a delicious chill down to my legs, or she would reach out and touch my cheekbone with the backs of her fingers, causing my head first to tilt a little away, then toward her hand, trying mindlessly to make contact again. As you may imagine, I began to be more aware than ever of my sexual energy, and sometimes walked around for whole days conscious of the moisture between my legs, and a slight ache of emptiness.

  My tutorials progressed. The kisses and soft touches gave way to other sensations. Pinches on soft parts of my body, a wet tongue suddenly licking my ear or my jaw or neck. My breasts didn’t escape Julio’s demonstrations either. The first time was a terrible shock: one night, without warning, she pushed my body firmly onto the back of a park bench and grabbed both my nipples, one with each hand, and squeezed very tight, while pulling them—and me—toward her.

  “Dani, mi joven, don’t ever forget these.” She twisted my nipples as she spoke and I tried not to gasp. “For men and women both, these are gifts for the beautiful but unpredictable Oshún. She loves to receive gifts, and she’s apt to be generous in return if you offer them properly.” Julio continued to hold my nipples, squeezing them to an internal rhythm, sometimes pulling, making my eyes tear and a cry escape my throat. Then she soothed the hurt by rubbing each nipple with her thumb, stroking, and with each stroke I could feel my legs get weaker. I took advantage of the bench at my back and leaned on it to help me keep my feet.

  “If you know well the human body, Dani, you will have more access to your power. Escúcha! Listen to your own body, and when you touch someone else’s, your fingers, your eyes, your ears, every sense you own should pay attention.” Julio talked softly in my ear as she kept up the pressure on my body with her fingers. I didn’t know if I would be permitted to try to escape, to ease the pain I was feeling now, traveling in waves from their two points of origin downward, invading my cunt and licking at my asshole, washing down my legs under my jeans and causing my knees to feel as if they would buckle at any moment. Then it stopped. She had eased open her fingers and was stroking my face, wiping away some sweat. Leaning into me, she whispered in my ear.

  “Try another way to react, Dani. Many times we do better to stop resisting and repelling a situation. Stop fighting and accept your position—for the moment. You may call it surrender, but that word does not really describe properly the state of your mind or your body. Give in; give it up; these phrases may be more accurate. This giving up is like a gift and also an acceptance of a challenge. And accepting challenges is where we can grab our power and use it to our advantage. You will see what I am saying if you try it. Stop struggling and listen to your body, and to me.” So saying, Julio kissed me gravely on the forehead and then lowered her mouth to my neck. I froze.

  For a moment I felt the fear of death: a flutter like wings, traveling fast as light through my head, and my body shook. Her lips had come to rest on the most delicate part of my neck, down by my collarbone. Then Julio raised her head and looked me in the eye. “Remember, little one, what I just said.” I looked at her face and tried to read her eyes as she could read mine. The flutter passed through me, and then something was released. I heard myself groan as she lowered her head again and I felt her teeth take my skin between them. For some timeless age I was clinging to her like a baby, my arms around her shoulders as she used her teeth like knives.

  For days after this, I noticed an elevation of energy, a bounce in my step. I felt almost weightless. We didn’t talk at all about my lesson in giving up resistance. I certainly didn’t mention how sexually aroused I had been, how I was clinging to Julio partly from fear, partly from ecstasy. I caught her studying me surreptitiously now and then, but she didn’t say anything either. Gradually I floated back to earth.

  It was some time before Julio’s next lesson, one which really did allow me my first true enlightenment. The difficulty of the lesson was commensurate with its bounty.

  The fact is, a week or so after the lesson in the park, I found a girlfriend! Her name was Marilise, and I met her through Julio, who brought me one day on an errand to her neighbor Xiomara’s house. Marilise was Xiomara’s twenty-one-year-old daughter. We were attracted almost immediately, and I began to spend time with her, especially at parties. Our relationship continued, and this was a new and hopeful sign for me. Yet I was getting worried because we had not spent time alone yet, and I was trying to find a way to approach her; to put it baldly, to have sex with her. Julio watched and listened to us with interest and maybe a bit of amusement, though she never laughed at me. I didn’t think I had much longer to figure out an approach that would be successful.

  One night Julio finally took the matter into her own hands. She had told me the previous day that she wanted me to come home with her the next night. It wasn’t unusual for me to be at her house, though I had only been on her patio and in the rooms on the first floor of the small, two-story house tucked into a corner of a dead-end street. But she had never asked me over late at night, preferring to walk me home when our evenings ended.

  We walked into her house around midnight. Since her parents had been living for a while now with relations in the countryside, she lived alone. I was tired, and sat on the sofa while Julio did some work around the house. I didn’t really notice what she was doing until she lit some scented candles on an altar, then used one of them to light other candles around the room until the room was bathed in their light. She turned on a tape deck, and ceremonial drums, punctuated by melodies and chants in Lucumí, filled the house.

  I was almost asleep when something awakened my consciousness. I opened my eyes and saw Julio about four or five feet in front of me, looking happy. In her hand was a cigar, and the smell of its smoke, I realized, had disturbed my languor. She had taken off her shirt and her jeans, and was wearing only a pair of thin, white cotton shorts. Her feet, too, were bare.

  “Welcome, Dani, to my house. Are you comfortable? We are going to go upstairs soon, and you will not be too afraid. Am I right? This is something for you, mi querida. You have wanted to ask me for so long, but you have not. I’m not sure whether to be pleased or angry at you for keeping silent. In one way I am pleased, since I believe you did not ask, preferring to defer to my decision on the timing of the matter. On the other hand, if your silence was due to a lack of trust or of embarrassment, I must admonish you that those feelings can be very dangerous. If you cannot trust your teacher, you cannot trust anyone, even the orishas. And why not trust me? After all, with your diligence, and my help, Oshún smiled on you the other night, Dani, that night when we offered you to her, first your body, then your soul. And she was kind, was she not? For look! You have a girlfriend now, and she is waiting. But she cannot be kept waiting any longer.”

  Julio came to me and lifted my body up, cradling me as one does an infant, holding me close to her chest. I smelled her clean smell, mixed with the harsh, acrid smoke from her cigar. She moved easily with me to stand in front of the altar. After speaking first softly and then louder in Lucumí, she put me down on my feet and took my hand and led me up the stairs.

  Julio opened the door of her room. It was not a large one, and the window was covered by dark drapes. Like the living room, can
dles illuminated the space, casting quivering shadows on the walls with every breeze that wafted in from under the bottom of the drapes. I stood silently in front of her, until she pushed down on my shoulders and forced me to kneel. Now she stood in front of me, and she was humming and chanting, not continuously, but off and on. Her hand played in my hair, pulling it gently, until she finally seemed to finish some train of thought, or perhaps a part of her prayers.

  “Dani, this is my ceremony. I want to make this clear, to you and to the gods, that it is my own, it has not been taught to me by Oggún, nor Oshún even. Not Changó, Eleguá, Yemayá, nor any of the others, this is mine. Its outcome is my responsibility alone. Close your eyes now, Dani, and give yourself to me. I will guide you in every step, and as you place yourself in my hands, know that you can only be doing this from the seat of your strength, the center of your power. When you cease resisting, you give a gift, and get one in return.”

  I closed my eyes. In the silence I waited, and all I could feel was my pulse like a powerful generator, flooding my body with energy and setting me aquiver like a taut wire. Then Julio’s hand reached out and gathered the back of my neck and pulled my face into her crotch.

  This was only the beginning. After a time, she helped me up and laid me on the bed. She took my clothes off and I was naked. My arousal became intense after many minutes of the most intimate caresses and kisses. And Julio was most generous, allowing me—no, encouraging me—to taste her, lick her, touch her. She, of course, did many things to my body, and since at some point I was told to open my eyes, I knew that her own eyes never left me. Often they demanded that even at the most intimate moment, my eyes stay on hers. I couldn’t look away at those times, and this was perhaps the hardest part, for her eyes, locked into mine, made me feel truly exposed: that she could so easily see my pleasure.

  Slowly, very slowly, although my arousal had peaked, receded, then peaked again, Julio was doing things to me that were firmer: rough things with her lips, like kissing me hard, pushing against my lips so that they were cut by my own teeth; invading my mouth with her tongue for long minutes until I was afraid I would not be able to take another breath. In fact, my head began to spin, my breath to come in gasps, my skin to flush from head to toe, bathing me in hot sweat.

  At one point I was on my stomach beneath Julio, whose body covered mine, when I heard the door to the room open. When I tried to pick my head up and turn to look, Julio anticipated me and pushed my head back to the mattress, holding a forearm across my shoulders, grasping my head by the hair in one of her hands.

  “Don’t move.” I felt myself wake up then, but I woke into the middle of a dream. Sometimes I felt many hands on my body, and sometimes they were gentle and sometimes harsh. At times I moaned with pleasure and other times groans tore at my throat. Once I recognized the sound of Marilise’s voice, in response to a murmured question by Julio. Now I knew who had entered Julio’s bedroom! But instead of relief, I felt a great thrill of fear. What was Julio doing to me? To us? Then it occurred to me that this must still be a dream. The idea made me relax again.

  The candles were burning lower. Their scent, the heavy perfume of roses and musk, was so strong that it was like a veil in front of my eyes. Marilise was naked and she was lying on her back across the bed, her legs dangling over the edge from the knees down, her bare feet on the wood floor. I was hovering over her torso, cupping her soft breasts in my hands, kissing them, sucking at the nipples until she would pull my head up in order to kiss me. Julio had arranged us in this way, motioning me first to remove Marilise’s dress, then moving our bodies until she seemed satisfied. My awareness was rising and falling, but it was always centered in my body, whose slightest oscillation I noticed immediately. I realized once that my skin was so sensitive, my nerve-endings so overloaded, that the lightest touch of Julio’s fingernail running across my shoulder blades produced violent shivers exploding my body upward. And every cell in my own fingers was alive to the tissues under Marilise’s skin. I had not known what a body could feel, really, until that night.

  As I continued to play with Marilise, my body gradually melted over hers, so that after a while our legs were intertwined, my chest and stomach on hers, our hands all over each other. We were moaning too, and crying out sometimes. I almost failed to notice when I felt Julio’s hands slip something around my body, around my waist and between my legs. It was a strap of some sort and there was something heavy on it in front, but the straps were already buckled before my hand got down to explore this object. I was puzzled when I felt it, and then it hit me! She had strapped a harness to my body and a large rubber phallus hung from it, between my legs where a boy’s cock would be. I choked back my alarm and my body continued moving over Marilise.

  My eyes were closed, my lips were on Marilise’s neck, when I felt Julio lean over me. Her legs pushed against the backs of mine. One hand pressed down on the middle of my back. Beneath me, I felt Marilise shift, her body tautening because now she was bearing not only my weight as I lay on her, but Julio’s as well. Julio’s other hand held something sharp. I knew this because at the moment I heard her tell me to hold still, I felt it prick my skin on my right side. I don’t think I could have moved then even if I wanted to, because somehow her one hand was exerting a tremendous force on my back, and her legs were jammed up tight against mine. I drew in my breath and held it. The sharp object was a knife. I knew because she told me as she moved its cold blade over my hot skin. My body remained still, but inside everything was vibrating.

  Whenever the blade stopped and I felt it press into me, sometimes pricking, sometimes only scraping its cold hardness over me, my body would tense and then release from deep inside. If I screamed at any point, I wasn’t conscious of it, but I must have, because several times Julio’s hand moved from my back to my mouth and she covered it, murmuring soothingly in my ear. Marilise had begun to move more forcefully under me, her backside arching up from the mattress to push into my groin. Her eyes were sometimes open, but mostly they were shut and I became interested in making her open them. Like Julio, I wanted to see what was in her eyes.

  I didn’t notice right away when Julio put aside her knife. But when I did, I felt relief, not because I was no longer afraid, but because I could now move more freely. I really needed to move; the tension had built up in my body until I knew that the torture would end only when I could release it.

  Julio took me by surprise. Quite literally, she took me. One minute every fiber in me was concentrating on the woman under me, and the next minute I felt something slim, warm and firm at my asshole. It stroked me there, and I began to wonder if I could hold on or if I would struggle with all my might to escape. She seemed to know what I was feeling, because she began to speak to me as her finger moved around my perineum.

  “Ah! Si, Dani, yes! Mi joven, mi niñito, now is the time! Little one, you are about to lose your virginity. You will accept me down here, and you will thank me. You will not try to move away from me. You can’t anyway, jovencito.” Julio’s finger continued its probing, then it disappeared momentarily before I felt it again. It was wet now and somewhat slippery. The deeper in it went, the more it turned and stretched me, the louder became my groans, which I propelled, quite unknowingly, into Marilise’s mouth.

  When I finally thought I would slip into madness if Julio didn’t stop, her finger once again left me. I held still, feeling hollowed, and waiting for whatever else she would do to me. Her finger did not return, but was instead replaced by something much bigger, much wider. I couldn’t see what Julio had, though later, much later, I did. It was a hard, giant pod of some kind, from one of the trees that lined Havana’s streets, flaming out huge flowers in brilliant tropical array. The pod’s shell was dark brown, very smooth, and nearly ten inches in length, its diameter between an inch and two inches. In fact, it tapered to a fairly narrow end of about an inch, and it was this end she had introduced into my virgin ass. But that night, I could only feel it and I tried, I did try
, even against Julio’s orders, to move out of its reach. I failed, and only felt it slip in deeper as my trembling body cringed away.

  At some point as she worked this amazing tool into me, Julio had also reached around my body and I felt her hand brush my body, felt warm liquid pouring from between my cuntlips. The touch was almost, though not quite, incidental

  By the Boots

  Lauren Sanders

  So evening came, and morning came; it was the first day and then the second before we left my apartment. We walked the wet streets as if we were inside of a bubble, one of those scenes you shake and the snowflakes fall. It wasn’t snowing yet, but the air was heavy, the sky a mist of gray guncotton.

  We bought coffee in paper cups and continued on, going nowhere. Shade stopped in front of a vendor hawking hats, modeling a few as I sipped my coffee through a crack in the plastic lid. She chose a black knit cap, the kind worn by urban thugs on television. “Are you planning on turning over a candy store?” I asked. She smiled, said the hat made her feel tough. But she was more of a sap than I was. When we passed the multiplex just as the feel-good movie of the season was about to begin, she begged me to go inside.

  “Come on, Rachel,” she cocked her upper lip at me. “Ever make out in the movies?”

  I didn’t have to answer. I’d always been urbane about movie going, arriving early to be coke-and-popcorned by the first preview and barring all communication once the lights went out. On occasion, I’d even shushed a peanut-gallery commentator or two. But there I sat kissing in the back row like a clumsy adolescent, though not my adolescence for I’d never even kissed a boy until I was eighteen years old, and I never would have imagined that all the boys I’d kissed since then would be obliterated by one woman in a dark movie theater.