Primal Scream (Box Set #1, Taboo Sex + AFF) (37 page)

“
Are you gay?” Chantal wanted to ask.

She was a badass ball of nerves, but she remembered a quote:

Even fools are thought wise when they keep silent; with their mouths shut, they seem intelligent.

-- (Proverbs 17:28)

So she kept quiet, to prevent herself from saying anything stupid.

Chantal looked ahead—the entire group had gone into the tuck shop. She turned at the last minute—he followed her, to another stairwell, behind the row of food stalls.

They were both hungry, but not for the food that was being served in the tuck shop.

He knew how to use his hands well, as he let them run along and linger on her back, and the side of her waist.

Some voices near the staircase startled Chantal—she pressed herself up against him.

Brett turned his body to the side, and leaned up against the wall, hiding Chantal from view.

“
May I…go lower?” he asked, so sweetly that she couldn’t have said no even if she had wanted to. His hands were on the inward curve of her lower back, fingertips just at the level before her butt began.

Boys touched like property…girls were softer and more capable.
That’s what Chantal and her friends were always told. But maybe Brett would change her mind.

She wanted to flash him, let him peek down her blouse…see her nipples at attention. Breasts were the best female body part. She loved his natural scent, as he held her close…feeling his hard on against her, and his hands cupping her butt.

And she went lower, without being asked. She knelt in front of him, instinctively, just like she did at church or confessionals, as an expression of faith, resting her knees against his shoes.

If she kissed his dick first, she’d have kissed a guy’s dick before kissing a guy on the lips.

* * *

Chapter 4

Brett took in a sharp inhale when they heard a group of people approaching the stairwell. Chantal wasn’t going to let that deter her from exploring him further. She got to her feet and dashed out—“Over here,” Chantal said to Brett—just as she noticed Aisyah in the cafeteria, talking to one of the guys in a St. Dom’s uniform. Chantal saw them through the window grills which separated the back of the food stalls from the common corridor she and Brett were at.

Chantal guessed the boy Aisyah was talking to was Marc. Chantal wanted to wave, but didn’t want to draw attention to Brett and herself, so she kept going forward. Aisyah seemed to be in some kind of semi-serious discussion with the boy, like a friendly battle of wits of some sort, from the way they were standing, and the slightly indignantly raised eyebrow of Aisyah.

“
Where’re we going?” Brett asked, as he ran after Chantal. He thought of the Greek God Apollo’s pursuit of the nymph, Daphne. Brett hoped his efforts wouldn’t be in vain.

“
The canal.” Chantal and her friends had walked along the canal before, which was connected to other canals that ran along the Eastern coast of Singapore.

She wanted to go down to the field, and jump over the banister. Chantal thought they could still race across the dry canal. It was dry at this time of the day, save for a strip of water in the center. It was hard to believe that this same canal could overflow on massively rainy days.

But there was a physical education class going on in the school field, so they crept behind one of the science labs instead, getting down on all fours to slip by undetected.

Chantal was thinking of burning down her high school—she’d entertained the thought many times—for all the rules, the oppression, the way the environment encouraged ‘boys’ and ‘sex’ to be viewed as evil things which must be eschewed. What about imprisoning teenagers’ lives in school so that they didn’t have any kind of life, outside of school? What about the church’s anti-sex ways, which controlled sex and sexuality as a way of brainwashing people into submission? And sometimes, the ministers who railed loudest against “filth” and “pornography” were the exact same ones who were cloaking their secret sins. Wasn’t that hypocritical and obscene too?

The church seemed to really hate the idea of people having sex for fun. Why so much loathing for the human body?

Chantal’s body jerked forward, when she tightened her shoulders to keep from letting out a gasp when Brett gave a squeeze to one of her ass cheeks. He tilted his head to one side and gave a slight shrug when she turned back. With a view like that, who could resist?

“
You’d have done the same, if you were on your hands and knees behind me,” he whispered.

Even though she didn’t hear it, she was too determined in finding their exit route.

“
Go, go!” Chantal hissed, pointing to the side, once they’d passed the science lab. She noticed that a few nuns had stepped out, in their strict, pious white habits, and were heading towards the small chapel, at the far end of the other side of the school.

Brett and Chantal both jumped over the barrier and ran across the canal. They made their way to a small hollow space, the opening of a tunnel that slanted away from the main canal.

Yes! Peace at last,
Chantal thought.

“
That was a little…adventure…” Brett remarked, taking off his blazer. Chantal followed, and removed her formal blazer too. They were feeling the heat from the midday sun.

Chantal stood as close to him as she dared, without touching him, anxiously waiting for him to pounce on and ravage her—no one would be able to see them now. It was a nice, shady, quiet spot.

“
Strip me, now!” Chantal wanted to scream in his face.

Brett could hear her breathing. He folded his arms, looking out of the alcove, wondering how intriguing Chantal might or might not really be, behind her face and figure.

“
Are you…Catholic?” he asked, even though he already guessed she was. She gave off a vibe of crazed sexual tension and pent-up energy, which non-religious sorts didn’t seem to suffer too much from.

Sexuality and religion were the two things that bugged Chantal the most, and the exact two things that Brett had asked, within the first ten to twenty minutes of having introduced himself.

“
Yes,” she snapped, which made her realize how much she despised the fact. Jesus Christ, Brett was such a mood killer. She wanted some action, and here he was talking about religion.

She crouched down, a little nervous and nauseous. “Are you?” she asked.

Brett nodded. “Baptized as a baby.”

“
Same here.” She peeked out at the school building, wondering where the conversation would go, not being one to dumb herself down when talking to guys. She wanted to be honest, in direct opposition with religious leaders who seemed to live in their own fantasy world. “A person shouldn’t be baptized until they’re old enough to understand what it means, and make that decision for themselves…I think.”

Brett nodded, sitting down on the ground. “Yep,” he said, with the same amount of conviction as he had earlier, when Marc asked him if he was sure Chantal was “the other girl” in the photo. “I’m probably more agnostic than anything else, right now. The more you read and actually study the Bible, the more it seems to send a message of hate, not love.”

Chantal was sitting next to him, but feeling like she was on cloud nine. She couldn’t believe the Speedos boy had a good mind to go along with his body!

“
The Bible seems so…misogynistic,” she said. “Why does it hate females and gays so much?”

“
There are some enlightened passages in the Bible, but yeah, the vast majority of the material is misogynistic,” Brett replied, with passionate insistence. “I cannot expect myself to take these scriptures as an ultimate guide to morals and ethics, when they condemn people based on their gender and sexual practices.”

“
How much have you read?” Chantal recalled the many nights she’d spent, digging up the texts for guidance on this and that. She knew a great many quotes very well.

“
Quite a lot. I can quote some phrases on what the Bible says about women and gays…though I can’t remember the exact passages.”

“
Which quotes?” Chantal smiled brightly.

A couple of frown lines appeared on Brett’s brow. “I found one upright man among a thousand, but not one upright woman among them all…and something about it being a shame for women to speak in church, because they’re supposed to ask their husbands about everything in life if they want to…‘learn anything’?”

Chantal couldn’t remember the first quote, but she knew the second half was from the First Book of Corinthians.

“
The dictionary defines a misogynist as ‘one who hates women’,” Brett went on. “‘Sexist’ can be defined as attitudes or behaviors that promote stereotyping of social roles based on gender. Is God a sexist? From what I’ve read, yes. All in all, God is portrayed to value men over women—in the Bible, men and their male descendants are mentioned, but never the females. Another sexist thing is that Eve’s punishment in the Garden of Eden was harsher than Adam’s, even though he was the one responsible for her. Gee, what’s up with that?”

Chantal knew that Bible quote well:

I will greatly increase your pangs in childbearing; in pain you shall bring forth children, yet your desire shall be for your husband, and he will dominate you.

-- Genesis 3:16

Chantal had no interest in having children or getting married while still in upper secondary school. But she’d happily go along with whatever Brett asked of her. He gave her the sense that he was fully engaging with and accepting her sexual being.

“
Do you know Bertrand Russell?”

Chantal shook her head. She was more familiar with Nietzsche and his critiques of Christianity.

“
He’s a British philosopher—I think you might enjoy his books.”

Chantal liked the guy already, once she heard from Brett about how Bertrand Russell said a “morbid and unnatural” attitude toward sex was “the worst feature of the Christian religion.” And that the church’s aversion to sex was not only unfounded but harmful, as religious anti-sexuality attitudes inflicted untold human misery, especially on women. Women were regarded as the inspirer of impure lusts, so the church did “what it could to secure that the only form of sex which it permitted should involve very little pleasure and great deal of pain,” which explained the motive behind the opposition to birth control.

Western religion seemed to always be a haven for the sexually suppressed. It was ironic that centuries of holy hostility to sex hadn’t dampened humanity’s zest for it.

“
I think the Church and some of these religions are just…irrelevant, nowadays,” Chantal said. “You can’t hold people back forever.”

“
This is a holiness code written 3,000 years ago,” Brett continued to rant, carried away by his utter detestation of religious hypocrisy. “Many so-called strong believers only subscribe to religion when it’s ‘convenient’, and because they want to avoid responsibility for their actions—they’re either deluding themselves that they’re actually strong believers, or they’re hypocrites. You know what I believe in? I believe in morality, which is doing right regardless of what I’m told…not in religion, which is doing what I am told regardless of what is right. Everyone’s welcome to their own interpretation of the Bible and politics, but pointing to the Bible and saying ‘because the Bible says so’ isn’t a good enough reason for me, to justify certain things in the world, and judge others.”

Chantal had once read a scientific report which estimated that more than 100 million couples around the globe make love in a single day.

Let us join that 100 million, this day,
she thought, exultantly.

She lightly touched him on the arm, before kissing him on the lips—once, twice, as she gently rested a hand against his chest. Partly to get him to calm down, and partly to get him to “do” more instead of talk more, even though the mental stimulation did enhance both of their physical arousals.

He smiled, his warm brown eyes lighting up, as his hands sought her breasts. Their bodies stirred, blood surging to all the right places, from his relaxing, unhurried touch. He started to kiss her, lighting pulling and tugging at her hair, grabbing and pulling her ponytail upwards.

She really relished it, abandoning herself and letting him do whatever he wanted. Short of mutilating her, she would’ve said yes to anything. For a moment, she thought of Aisyah the previous day, taking the lead too. Sure, Chantal would have gone along with anything Aisyah had wanted—or would want to do—too.