I was born in the United States, but my parents are Lebanese. My parents were Muslims, and my sister and I were brought up Islamic. Our parents were relatively liberal; we went to public school and were allowed to play sports and to have non-Muslim playmates. Once we became "young ladies", we had to wear a veil over our faces in public, and were no longer allowed to wear shorts. Dating was, of course, out of the question. My older sister, Natalie, was promised to the son of a friend of our parents; they were to be married after they both finished college. She had never met him.
I was eighteen, and had just started to become aware of my sexuality. My mother had explained the "facts of life" to be when I started having my period, so I understood the mechanics of sex, but she had never hinted that sex might be in any way pleasurable. Certainly not for females. I had discovered masturbation on my own, but I didn't really associate it with sex, though I indulged myself nearly every night. I had just started being interested in boys, and I had started vaguely thinking about penises when I rubbed myself at night.
Natalie had just turned twenty; she was two and a half years older than me. I think that the reality of her arranged marriage was starting to sink in, and she was starting to rebel. She used to remove her face scarf at school, and I knew for a fact that she had kissed boys.
It was a Saturday night. Our classmates were all out cruising, or eating French fries, or hanging out, or doing whatever teenagers do on Saturday nights. We had just finished evening prayers. Our parents were watching television downstairs. My sister and I had been sent to bed. (Imagine! Being sent to bed at ten o'clock on a Saturday night at age twenty. Natalie had good reason to rebel.) I had gone to bed like a good little girl, and had been rubbing my slippery little slit for the last half hour. I would tease myself, bringing myself close to orgasm, and then backing off. I liked to see how long I could stand to do this before I made myself come. My fingers were rubbing my clitoris and I was getting close to the point of no return when I realized that someone was standing in the open door. I stopped with my heart in my throat and lay as still as a mouse. I knew that I sometimes made noises, and I was scared that my parents had found me out.
"Andrea, are you awake?" Natalie whispered. It was just my sister! A wave of relief flooded over me, and my heart rate slowed down, even as a damp, insistent feeling throbbed between my legs.
"Yes, I'm still awake" I whispered "What is it?"
Natalie slipped inside, quietly closing the door behind her. From downstairs I could hear the television; my parents were watching the evening news. She sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm not disturbing you, am I?"
"Of course not. What's the matter?" Of course she was disturbing me; my pussy was wet and my clit was swollen, and as she sat on the bed with me, I became aware that I had kicked off my pajama bottoms, and that my fingers were all slimy from my exertions.
"Have you ever had a boyfriend Andrea?" It was at this moment that I realized for the first time how attractive my sister was. She had long, flowing black hair, a slim figure, and large (compared to mine) perky breasts that were only barely concealed by here white nightgown. My head reeled with lust and confusion.
"No", I replied "You know that. Mom and dad would never allow it."
"I know what they don't allow, and I'm not sure that I care anymore." She took a deep breath. "Do you ever masturbate?"
I was shocked. Did she know? "Yes." I whispered.
She lay down beside me on the bed. I felt her warm breath on my face. "Its ok." She said "I do too, all the time."
"Really?"
