Boreal

LOVE, SEX & ISLAM

Sex in the Here-And-Now

Diane

I was not going to include my time with Diane because I could not initially find within that relationship a connection with Islamic scriptures. Then I realized it was staring me in the face. When this lovely woman in her late twenties, early thirties, with maybe just a little too much makeup, sat down next to me, I looked toward my bartender expecting a nod, but instead I got a head shake.

When that pretty round face reminiscent of the happy face emoji turned toward me, I was the first to say hello. She wore more makeup than I have ever seen on any woman, especially around the eyes. Mascara-enhanced lashes, charcoal eyeshadow on both lids and under the brows, and a black eyeliner finish gave her a look one might describe as a mild case of raccoon eyes.

She was kind and nice to talk to, even if our conversation was mostly small talk. When she excused herself to go to the ladies’ room, I turned to my bartender and asked: “Are you sure?”

Before she excused herself, she had asked a question I had never once heard in my now four years in Montréal, and it took me completely by surprise. There was still time to back out. It all depended on my bartender confirming that she was who she said she was.

“Yeah,” he replied. “She works the cosmetic counter at The Bay on the next block.” That explained the excessive eye makeup.

Muhammad was a real fan of face paint and fragrances. He used kohl around his eyes as adornment and protection from the sun. He used henna, a bright orange natural dye, to streak his beard. Women were allowed to use kohl as protection from the sun’s harmful rays except during the grieving period for a dead husband. No exceptions!

Narrated Um Salama:

The husband of a lady died and her eyes became sore and the people mentioned her story to the Prophet. They asked him whether it was permissible for her to use kohl as her eyes were exposed to danger.

He said, "Previously, when one of you was bereaved by a husband she would stay in her dirty clothes in a bad unhealthy house (for one year), and when a dog passed by, she would throw a globe of dung. No, (she should observe the prescribed period Idda i.e. waiting period) for four months and ten days."

Bukhari 71.607

Women are expected to not wear any fragrances when going out in public, as only men are permitted to do so.

The Prophet of Islam stated: “Any woman who perfumes herself and leaves the house, is deprived from the blessings of the Almighty Allah until she returns home.”

Bihar al-Anwar

If a woman puts on perfume for any man other than her husband, she should bathe before attending prayers.

God will not accept the prayers of any woman who puts on perfume for a man other than her husband until she bathes from her (having applied) perfume just as she bathes after intercourse.

Makarim al-Akhlaq

Muhammad’s love of perfumes bordered on the obsessive:

The Most Noble Messenger was so fond of applying perfume that he would skip his supper so as to procure his needed perfume. If perfume was not at his disposal, he would soak the perfumed scarf of his wife and rub his face with it so as to be perfumed. Likewise, before going out he would always look at himself in the mirror or water, and groom himself to such an extent as to always be an embodiment of adornment and dressing well. He would apply so much perfume that his beard had turned white as a result.

An-Nisa’i

You must love not only perfumes to be a Muslim, but meat as well.

Three women approached the Prophet one day. One of them said, “O Prophet! My husband has shunned the company of his wife.”

The second said, “My husband has stopped eating meat!”

The third said, “My husband has stopped using perfume!”

Hearing the women, the Prophet was upset. He saw that misguided ideas were beginning to take root amongst his followers.

Although it was not the time for any mandatory prayer, he proceeded to the mosque. He went in such a great hurry that even his cloak was not properly placed on his shoulder and one end of it was touching the ground. He ordered the people to assemble in the mosque. People rushed there leaving aside their tasks.

The Prophet ascended the pulpit and said, “I have heard that my companions are getting wrong ideas.”

He added, “I am Allah’s Messenger, I eat meat and delicious food! I wear good clothes! I wear perfumes and keep the company of my wives and have conjugal relations with them! Whosoever opposes my ways is not my follower!”

The Prophet has repeated this sentence on several occasions: "One who does not adopt my ways is not a Muslim.”

Wasa'il

When Diane sat next to me at the bar, I thought I had everything under control until she asked that unexpected question. We had been talking for maybe an hour or two when she looked at me and said: “Would you like to come over to my place?” How could I refuse, especially after my bartender had confirmed that she was genuine?

With Diane I had the type of relationship that bordered on the normal, and I liked that. We would meet after work for drinks and, if there was time, drop by my place for a bout of intimacy before dinner at Thursdays or another of Montréal’s fine dining establishments.

When we got home—funny that I would call my hotel apartment home—she would do as my Lucette did, getting ready for bed by first removing her makeup—though with her, it was obviously a more elaborate affair. Like my Lucette, I didn’t think she needed any.

The sex was nothing exceptional but that was fine with me, not that she didn’t want to spice it up. Once when I was at her place, I observed that she did not have a VCR. “If you buy me one,” she said, “you can rent whichever porn you like and we’ll do whatever is on the tape.” For some reason, I could not be bothered.

I should have bought her the damn VCR and more. It was obvious from her apartment furnishings that working the cosmetics counter at a department store was not all it was cracked up to be. Her company was what I needed at the time, and she freely gave of it. I should have shown my appreciation beyond paying for dinner and drinks.

Back in Ottawa for the weekend, I had brought some work with me. When I did that, Lucette was more than happy to empty my suitcase. I was busy at my computer in an adjacent room when she appeared in the doorway twirling a scarf. “Where did this come from?” she asked.

I had a good idea, but honestly did not know for sure, so I replied: “I don’t know.”

My Lucette knew better, and she let me know in her own way, one that was also a warning for me to be careful. She twirled the scarf a few more times. “It’s not even silk,” she said. “I would be wary of women who leave cheap scarves in a married man’s suitcase,” and she went back to emptying said suitcase.

We never talked about it again, but I knew I had let things go too far. I decided to do something about it and, as usual, I would make it difficult to go back on my decision and learn to live with the regret.

We were back at Thursdays—where else?—having an after-dinner drink at the bar before turning in when I noticed a young man eyeing Diane. He didn’t escape her notice either. When the young man took a bathroom break, I followed him and stood at the next urinal, then stated the obvious: “You like the girl I’m with, don’t you?”

He started apologizing, perhaps worried I was there to beat him up or something. I put his mind at ease. “If you like her, you can have her. Follow me and I’ll make the introductions.”

That is what he did, and that is what I did. I encouraged Diane to have a good time with him because I had to leave. She knew I was dumping her. God, how I hate that term! It was now the sad face emoji staring up at me.

Before walking out the door, I took one last look back; her expression had not changed. The next morning when I woke up, there was no Diane next to me. What a horrible morning that was! There was no turning back, which was the whole point of the way I broke it off. Sorry, Diane. I hope you had a good time.