Wanton Hussy - Column for 8/27


Part 1

She dreams at being at a dance in junior high school. The boy she has a crush on dances a slow dance with her, and at the end kisses her in front of everybody, all of the popular people, so now they all know she's cool. It's a predictable dream, predicted even, because at the slumber parties one of her friends makes up stories for each of the girls where they finally get together with the boys they like, boys who would never give them a second thought.

One night at one of these parties, she awakens drenched with sweat, heart and loins throbbing, to the sound of her friends breathing around her. What was she dreaming? She closes her eyes and falls back into it, remembering the dream of the boy pressing her against a wall in a dark hallway, staring into her eyes. She feels dirty and excited and used and aroused. But being one of the few true innocents left at age thirteen, she doesn't know what to do with this, so she writes it in her diary and forgets about it.

Part 2

Every Sunday she goes to Mass with her mother, at 8 AM. Bored and half-asleep, she isn't sure when she starts to notice that the altar boys are boys she knows from school. Boys she has crushes on. Seeing them in church means they are good Catholics, even more reason to like them. Her faith isn't important to her particularly, but she can't imagine not going to church. One Sunday as she kneels down her breasts brush the pew in front of her and her nipples harden as she thinks about how tight the altar boy's jeans were on Friday. She sees the cuffs of his pants and sneakers under the long robes and briefly wonders if they are the same jeans. A small shiver of arousal shakes her body, and her mother turns to tell her to put on her sweater.

At Confession the next month she neglects to mention to the priest that she no longer pays attention to anything during Mass. She just fantasizes about the altar boy and his smooth soft firm skin. She knows she's going to Hell for this, but she doesn't really believe in Hell. How could God make her so lustful and punish her for it? It doesn't hurt anyone. But she still felt guilty whenever she touches herself at night, thinking of any number of boys, and feels especially bad when they are dressed like servants of God.

Part 3

One Saturday morning she wakes up from a deliciously sexy dream, vague and unclear. She's read a lot about sex but still has no practical experience in the matter. Except in her dreams. All of her shyness and inhibition and fear is gone when she is asleep, and the forbidden and impossible are obtainable. She dreams of all the wrong people, though; her younger cousin, her sister's boyfriend, her stepbrother, as well as the boys she very firmly does not like at school because they aren't popular and cool, although they are her friends.

Her dreams are still innocent, dreams of being held, kissed, told she is loved. Vague impressions of sex from R-rated movies, in soft focus with romantic music swelling in the background. Dreams of movie stars, the bag boy at the market, anyone and everyone. Asleep, the world is hers, she is desirable and wanted, and she is unafraid of her sexuality and power.

Awake she is confused by these dreams of the wrong people and refuses to admit that some of them are about her girl friends; those dreams must have been too confused to remember them properly. She still goes to Mass but never to Confession. She does her own Penance every time she masturbates, knowing it's normal and natural but also knowing that it's Awful and Wrong and if she could ever have a boy like her and kiss her, she wouldn't do this anymore. Ever, she promises, as she prays for forgiveness.

To Be Continued Next Week...

Columns by Wanton Hussy