"I love virgins. As a matter-of-fact I can hardly abide any other type of female as a bed companion. But while most men who share this preference with me derive their main pleasure from the deflowering of these innocents, I am just the opposite. I do not like breaking the cherries of virgins; on the contrary, I like avoiding doing just that, and I like virgins because they, or at least many of them, are interested in holding on to their virginity. You see, I'm a man who gets little enjoyment from fucking young or old ladies in the cunt. I consider the cunt sort of, well, nasty-a silly gash where something much more interesting could have been placed. So I seek out women who like any kind of sex besides regular fucking. And young virgins fit the bill very well.
"I realize, of course, that my tastes are out of the ordinary, even odd. But after all, they are more varied than most men's. For instance, I thoroughly enjoy all the types of preliminary sex -you know, foreplay and all-including every sort of oral play. This is probably going to surprise you after what I said just a moment ago, but I really don't even mind what is delicately called cunnilingus-licking and sucking a woman's cunt . . . as long as I don't have to stick my prick in there. I suppose there's some sort of fear that Freud or one of these modern psychological thinkers could explain involved, but I really don't care-I am what I am, as Popeye used to say.
"On the other hand I don't mind sticking my cock in any other part of a lady's anatomy-especially an asshole or a nice juicy mouth. I relish such things, in fact.
"Now, if you're starting to make connections in your mind concerning what I've said about asshole-fucking and 'silly gashes' and my distaste for normal intercourse, and you're coming to the conclusion that I'm a fag (or 'gay' to use the more accepted term), well I'll just have to assure you that you're wrong and leave it at that. I don't care what anyone thinks about my sexual behavior. But I'm quite willing to discuss it, since I'm not in the least ashamed of anything I've done.
"The sex life of me, Michael J-, has consisted up to my current thirtieth year on this planet of one affair after another that has constituted a search for the perfect woman. Perfect for me, anyhow. I'd rather skip all the messy little meaningless false steps and concentrate on those affairs which were easily standouts from the rest.
"Marsha was my first true love. She wasn't the first one I fooled around with, but she was the first one I hit it off well with. I was sixteen and she was merely twelve. By the time things started with her, I had had enough experience with other girls to have completely discovered what my proclivities were. I knew what I wanted, and Marsha knew what she didn't want, and for a while, at least-that was enough of a basis for some great teenage sex.
"Marsha and I couldn't let anyone else know that we were seeing each other-the age differences were too great and the southern town of 25,000 that we lived in was one of rather strict moral character. So, after mutually deciding that we wanted to try out this thing called sex together, without damaging the precious jewel of her virginity, we planned a meeting one Saturday afternoon in an old deserted shack that lay on the edge of town.
"Once we were together there, we stumbled and fidgeted around for some time, not knowing exactly how to get started in a comfortable manner. But finally she, being the bolder of us two, took off her sweater, leaving her red skirt and black shoes on. The sight was stimulating to a sixteen-year-old boy, to say the least. It was a hot summer afternoon, and her small but certainly prominent breasts gleamed with a slight sheen of perspiration. She held her arms down to the sides, even though it must have been hard for a shy twelve-year-old to do, and she let me openly admire her beauty.
"Her olive complexion turned redder with blushing as I stared at her. Her dark, long hair cascaded down over thin shoulders, which were slightly freckled, to almost reach the point where her pert titties swelled up from her delicate chest. She was as slim as a fawn, and her belly, indented very cutely by a deep navel, was almost board-flat.
"As I gazed at her semi-nudity, not only did she blush from her face to her upper chest, but there was another sign of response; her small, boyish nipples began to poke outward until they were larger and thicker than any male's could be. They were a gorgeous brown-red color. Making my first overt movement, I reached over and tweaked one. A strange smile lit her face as I did, and her reaction turned me on as much as anything. A hard on was growing in my jeans, approaching its upper limit in size, and I was sure that she'd noticed the bulge it was causing. Amazingly, her eraser-like nipple grew ever larger as I held it between my forefinger and thumb. I grabbed the other one in the same way, and a soft sigh escaped the young girl's lips.
"Now I began to stop wondering what I was supposed to do, and just followed the demands of my increasing lust. I bowed my head, stuck out my tongue and licked one of the nipples I had been tweaking. Another sigh came from above. At first I licked lightly, teasingly, but this soon transformed into a more feverish, hard approach, until finally I swooped the nipple and much of the white breast that surrounded it into my mouth. I sucked inward; I continued to lick; I bit ever so lightly. Her hands went to the back of my head. Meanwhile, my hand played the devil with her other breast.
"As we got more and more carried away, we fell, without really noticing it, to the dirty floor of the shack. I hastily pulled off my shirt and jeans while she divested herself of her skirt and shoes.
"Her eyes bugged out at the sight of what sprang up from my loins. My prick was man-size and very imposing, and I think it was the first one she had ever seen. Some of her enthusiasm left her for a moment, but as soon as I saw that she was beginning to have second thoughts I went after those breasts again. After she'd begun to relax some and get back into the heat of the situation, I let a hand trail down to that secret place between her legs. It was creamy and hairless, and the outer lips were already more than a little moist. I let my forefinger push in just a half inch or so, while I silenced her objections with a tongue-to-tongue kiss. I was feeling very much in control of things, considering I had been with only three other girls-and those had been frustrating and disappointing experiences.
"My hard prick kept rubbing against her soft thighs, and though I had no thought of trying to put it in her virginal cunt-that would have made it immediately shrivel up-I'm sure she wasn't totally convinced of that. So, to keep her from getting so frightened that she might pull away from me before we could have a satisfactory conclusion, I went straight to a very bold request.
"I asked her to suck me off. I figured that she might be so scared that I was going to force her to fuck me that she might be relieved at anything else. I was right.
" 'I want you to do it to me too,' she said. That was fair enough, so Marsha and I each indulged ourselves in a wonderful sixty-nine. It was the first time for both of us. I think we each did a good job, though, considering our inexperience.
"She had innate talent as a cocksucker. She got above me and took my hard rod in her hand, placing her wet cunt above my face. I felt a little distaste for what I was supposed to do when I stared at her pink slit, but this changed rapidly after I felt a delightfully pointed tongue stick out and touch the rim of my circumcised cock. The tongue traced a complete circle around the rim three times, then the whole head was engulfed by her hot mouth. More in involuntary reaction, like a knee-jerk, than anything else, my head raised and I glued my lips to her cunt.
"As she moved her head up and down on my stiff rod, playing with the base with her hand, I ran my tongue from one end of her slit to the other-from her clitoris (though I wasn't too sure about what or where that was at the time) to her asshole. To my own personal surprise, and to her squirming delight, I found myself concentrating quite a bit on her asshole, licking it and dipping my tongue in. Her cunt was actually dripping, the juice rolling down her sleek, sweaty thighs.
"My prick grew even larger in her thin-lipped mouth. She was really into cocksucking, plunging as much of the rod into her mouth as she could, until it was pounding against the opening of her throat. Even that seemed to give way, and delightful sensations that I'd never even dreamed of took hold of me as the head of my cock was titillated by her clasping throat. I grew ever more excited until finally the moment came, and for the first time in my short life I spewed the contents of my balls into a girl's mouth. Spurt after spurt flowed into her virginal mouth until she couldn't swallow fast enough, and it dripped in creamy gobs onto my crotch. I'd had my pleasure and satisfaction, but I dutifully kept my lips and tongue working on her cunt until she'd had hers. Her climax came a minute later, and it seemed to be a good, heavy one. She squirmed around so much it was nearly impossible for me to keep my mouth on her. Finally her hips fell in a spasm of complete satisfaction, and I moved out from under her, turned around and kissed her.
"We had many other fine meetings that summer, most of them centering around oral sex, until finally we broke up.
"The reason Marsha and I broke up was because she wasn't willing to go beyond what we regularly did. On the other hand, I was always looking for new methods, new vistas. In particular at that time, I wanted to fuck her in the ass. She didn't go for that idea, and neither did any of the girls I was to meet in the next five years, but finally, when I was twenty-one and had moved to Los Angeles, California, I met a virgin even wilder than Marsha-one who was willing to allow me to indulge in a greater variety of perversions. Her name was Jeannie, and she was a would-be actress.
"I guess Jeannie will always be kept from stardom because she refuses to do what a starlet has to usually do to take the first step toward the big time-lay on the casting couch for a succession of producers and directors. She'd sucked off quite a few, I was to learn, and had done just about everything else with them, but she inevitably wound up pissing them off because she wouldn't fuck them. She was nineteen and still, unbelievably in this society of ours, a bona fide virgin.
"I met Jeannie at a party-a pretty wild one given by one of the big producers in town. I was a newcomer to the Hollywood party scene, being new in town and just a third-string makeup man for a small company. But Jeannie, even at her tender age, was already an old pro at these things, and she spotted me right away as fresh material. It was her who picked me up. The party had progressed to the point where most of the food had been consumed, some movies watched, couples and groups formed, and now the lights were down low and soft music was playing and various tete-a-tetes were going on all around the three largest rooms of the mansion. These tete-a-tetes were mostly sexual, or getting that way.
"There I sat, all on my own, knowing only the person-another makeup man-who had brought me to the party, and he'd disappeared somewhere. All around me there were people doing what comes naturally (and perhaps unnaturally), giggling, sighing, moaning, clothes flying about. I just sat there with a hard on. Then I spotted another solitary figure across the room. It was female-definitely female. Big, big tits, to start with, that were about to overflow a low-cut, slinky satin dress. Long, shiny blonde hair-almost platinum. That was about all I could tell in the semi-dark. Except for one more important thing: she was looking at me-staring, in fact-and smiling!
"As my eyes were able to focus more on her in the low light, I saw that not only did she have a fantastic body, she had a fabulously pretty face as well. She was probably the most beautiful woman at the party and she was alone and giving me the eye. Then she actually came over and sat down beside me-before I even thought about daring to make a move.
"Well, to make a long story short, as we talked
I found out about her virginity and the unpopularity it caused her in the Hollywood in-crowd. (Actually, people liked her fine, but avoided her sexually because they knew they wouldn't get fucked.) And I confessed my leanings. We were both delighted and went tearing through the hallways of the place looking for an empty bedroom.
"We couldn't find one, but we did find a room that Jeannie guaranteed would be even better for us than an empty one. In it, a couple of her friends, a man and a woman-both fortyish, had just finished fucking. In fact, they went through the writhing and groans and moans of coming just as we opened the door on them-in glaring light. They weren't the least bit embarrassed at being discovered in orgasm-on the contrary, they just looked up, after a short period of total exhaustion, and waved hello. The guy, after an introduction, left the room to search for different quarry, leaving Jeannie, myself, and the new woman alone there. Jeannie and the woman smiled at each other in a special way and then Jeannie told me to settle back in a chair and just relax and watch for a while.
"I wasn't exactly in the mood for that, but I did as she told me and I was soon glad I did.
"Jeannie, in her search for every type of available sex outside of fucking, had come upon the advantage of lesbianism, or at least bisexuality, and she practiced such with great relish and skill, as I and the redheaded fortyish woman were soon to find out. . . . "
One cannot possibly grasp our society's vacillating, contradicting, and befuddled views on virginity without briefly reaching into the past where the myths and fables surrounding virginity and the virgin originated. Discussing virginity in primitive societies, Will Durant, master historian, wrote in his Our Oriental Heritage:
Chastity is a correspondingly late development. What the primitive maiden dreaded was not the loss of virginity, but a reputation for sterility; premarital pregnancy was, more often than not, an aid rather than a handicap in finding a husband, for it settled all doubts of sterility, and promised profitable children. The simpler tribes, before the coming of property, seem to have held virginity in contempt, as indicating unpopularity. The Kamchadal bridegroom who found his bride to be a virgin was much put out, and "roundly abused her mother for the negligent way in which she had brought up her daughter." In many places virginity was considered a barrier to marriage, because it laid upon the husband the unpleasant task of violating the taboo that forbade him to shed the blood of any member of his tribe.. . .
An attitude that can be seen as one that is directly related to the mores, beliefs, customs, and traditions of a society. Continuing, where he touches upon three other such societies, Durant writes:
. . . In Tibet mothers anxiously sought men who would deflower their daughters; in Malabar the girls themselves begged the services of passersby to the same end, "for while they were virgins they could not find a husband." In some tribes the bride was obliged to give herself to the wedding guests before going in to her husband; in others the bridegroom hired a man to end the virginity of his bride; among certain Philippine tribes a special official was appointed, at a high salary, to perform this function for prospective husbands.
What was it that changed virginity from a fault into a virtue, and made it an element in the moral codes of all advanced civilizations? A great number of students of history suggest that it was the "sanctification" of virginity, the "glorification" of it, as it was promulgated in the Old and the New Testaments, that with time made society identify virginity with "virtuousness" and lack of it with "vice." There can be no doubt that Christianity, with its belief in, and teachings of, the Mother of God, and the application of the adjective "blessed" to the noun "virgin"-as in the Blessed Virgin-contributed greatly to the gradual conviction of the masses, and young girls particularly, that virginity was akin to both goodliness and godliness. Durant, however, reaches further back in man's history to explain the change in the attitudes of society toward virginity. He states that this reversal of thought regarding virginity was due to
. . . the institution of property. Premarital chastity came as an extension, to the daughters, of the proprietary feeling with which the patriarchal male looked upon his wife. The valuation of virginity rose when, under marriage by purchase, the virgin bride was found to bring a higher price than her weak sister; the virgin gave promise, by her past, of that marital fidelity which now seemed so precious to men beset by worry lest they should leave their property to surreptitious children.
It is interesting that throughout history virginity had been exclusively part of a double standard. The males had never considered applying the same restrictions of virginity to themselves, or to their sons. Again, one is tempted to look to Christianity and the monotheism of the Hebrews for an answer to what appears to be, in modern terminology, a male chauvinistic attitude toward sex. In the New Testament we are offered the "Blessed" Virgin, who is impregnated by an invisible god so that she can "miraculously" give birth to "the Son of God." With all the restrictions that are placed against women in both the Old and the New Testaments, restrictions such as are propounded not only in the words of the prophets, but the Decalogue of Moses, and the teachings of Christ, it is somehow odd that there is no justification of the fact that God had, indeed, committed an act of adultery with the wife of Joseph. And had then sent an angel to earth to proclaim her "blessedness."
Durant, in his previously cited work, points out, however, the fact that other societies, primitive ones, appeared to abide by this double standard.
. . . No language has ever had a word for a virgin man. The aura of virginity was kept exclusively for daughters, and pressed upon them in a thousand ways. The Tuaregs punished the irregularity of a daughter or a sister with death; the Negroes of Nubia, Abyssinia, Somaliland, etc., practiced upon their daughters the cruel art of infibulation, i.e., the attachment of a ring or lock to the genitals to prevent copulation; in Burma and Siam a similar practice survived to our own day. Forms of seclusion arose by which girls were kept from providing or receiving temptation. In New Britain the richer parents confined their daughters, through five dangerous years, in huts guarded by virtuous old crones; the girls were never allowed to come out, and only their relatives could see them. Some tribes in Borneo kept their unmarried girls in solitary confinement. From these primitive customs to the purdah of the Moslems and the Hindus is but a step, and indicates again how clearly "civilization" touches "savagery."
It is no wonder then that even today, even in our advanced society of moon shots and microwave ovens and computerized gambling systems, attitudes toward virginity-at least in the closed-system privacy of each individual's mind-are at odds often not only with regard to the next man's attitude toward it, but conflicting with one's own attitudes as they fluctuate in reference to time, place, and the self or other involved. Thus a man who might think nothing of deflowering another man's daughter-assuming that the said daughter is neither under-age nor is reluctant to being sexually taken-might be bent on murder upon discovering that his daughter's virginity had been taken under no more "criminal" circumstances.
Among the young, particularly girls of high-school age and older, the attitude toward virginity has, generally speaking, swung away from the belief in virginity's "blessedness." As Patricia McCormack notes in Francine Klagsbrun's Youth Quake:
From the halls of higher learning to the shores of sifting sand, millions of American teen-agers are experimenting with sexual freedom. Fed on Freud and Kinsey, reinforced by the Pill, they're not content to learn vicariously. In this scientific era they have been taught to seek answers based on experience, to accept no pat answers. Giving a wide berth to the surreptitious morals of their parents, the contemporary teen-agers prefer to be open and frank-so much so that on many college campuses the coed who is a virgin sometimes worries about being a square.
Perhaps the only argument that can be offered legitimately to these teenagers' reasoning is the alarming incidence of venereal disease that is sweeping the country. At the same time, that argument is validly directed not so much against the loss of virginity per se as toward a manic indiscriminate desire to lose it, practically at any cost, and toward promiscuity that often follows the loss of virginity.
Furthermore, there is a disagreement even on the increase of VD as it is statistically reported. There is a greater number of reported cases of venereal disease, true; however, Ira L. Reiss, in his article titled "Sexual Codes in Teen-Age Culture," appearing in Thorsten Sellin's Teen-Age Culture, offers an explanation to the "apparent" increase in the incidence of venereal disease among teenagers. He states:
. . . Teen-agers do have significant rates of venereal disease and illegitimacy. However, the press has largely exaggerated such rates. The teen-age rate of venereal disease for ages fifteen to nineteen is only about a third of the rate for the twenty-four to twenty-nine age group.
There has been a slight rise in the number of teen-age venereal disease cases in recent years, and this has received much publicity. It is quite likely that the actual rates for teen-agers are not higher and that this slight increase is due to the greater number of teenagers today. More than 80 per cent of the venereal disease reported is from older groups of people. Finally, the rate of venereal disease among teen-agers it not evenly distributed in the teen-age group. As far as we can tell from reported cases, it is highly concentrated in the lower social classes.
Aside from venereal disease, which cannot possibly be considered as a justification against sexual activity-only as a threat against indiscriminate and promiscuous sexual activity-there appears to be no other, legitimate or illegitimate, "reasons" for postponing sexual activity until after the marital ceremony. More, it appears that society should direct its aims at eradicating venereal disease by developing an immunization procedure-perhaps nationally instituted-that would solve the problem and leave both men and women, young and old, free to engage in the activity that is basic to their being and the urge for which is strongest at the age at which that activity is either denied to them by societal mores or by the threat of contacting what has been rightly called the curse of the ages.
In the five cases that are presented in this work, the concentration of interest is placed on the attitudes of both young and not so young virgins-the narrator of the first case is a fifteen year-old girl, who ceased being a virgin at the hands of a man who was old enough to be her father, the central subject of the narrative of the fourth case is a virgin of forty-two-and of the men who, by definitions of virginity and non-virginity, were responsible for performing the act that carried the girl, or woman, from the shores of virginity to those of sexual adulthood or realization.
It is true that the young girls of today do not have to tremble at the thought of being subjected to a life of chastity that the Vestal Virgins of Rome had to bear. A citation from Oskar Seyf-fert's Dictionary of Classical Antiquities suggests what that life was like.
. . . Every girl [of not less than six and not more than ten years of age] possessing the necessary qualifications was liable to be called on to undertake the duty. . . . The time of service was by law thirty years. . . . They were under the control of the pontifex. . . . He administered corporal chastisement if they neglected their duties. . . ; and, if any one of them violated her vow of chastity, he had her carried on a bier to the campus sceleratus (the field of transgression), near the Colline Gate, beaten with rods and immured alive. Her seducer was scourged to death. . . .
At the same time, the society of today in general, and the young of that society in particular, are living in times that are in fact considerably more complex and that provide no less mental stress and strain in the choices between right and wrong than the Vestals of Rome of a millennium ago had to face. Consequently, this work is a tribute to all virgins and all women who were once virgins.
CHAPTER ONE
The Professional Virgin
"There ain't nothin' in this world that don't involve whorin' of one kind or another. You take them big rich guys, the manufacturers, or even them politicians . . . they're whorin' just like the rest of us. If you got somethin' to sell, you are a whore. It's just that simple. Even if Madame Olga hadn't told me that, I'd've figured it out for myself anyways. You learn a lot growin' up on The Block, even if you ain't done it yourself, you sure'n hell know about it . . . know it's there and that other folks is doin' it. Even a thief is a whore; he's gotta peddle his stuff to some fence. It don't matter who it is, everybody's got some-thin' to sell, or push, even if it's just himself in a job. . . . So the difference between me and them is that I don't lie about it, I don't pretend I'm better than I am.
"And if there weren't no buyers, there wouldn't be no sellers. What you guys call supply and demand. You gotta suck ass to get anywhere, even just to survive. And every time you gotta suck ass, there's some jiveass creep what's gotta drop his pants first. You get what I mean? It takes two. A whore'd starve to death if'n there weren't no customers. It always takes two. A whore ain't no better and no worse than her customer expects her to be, and that makes the customer a whore too.
"Listen, I grew up here on The Block. I've seen guys fuckin' their girls in alleyways, standin' up, with her goin' bald losin' her hair to the rough bricks. I seen winos curled up next to garbage cans, nothin' between them and the deadly cold 'cept a wadded newspaper and a pair of beat-up shoes they'd got out of some garbage can . . . and I seen other bums come right up to them and steal the shoes off their feet like they was already dead. I seen a lot of things, and I'm only fifteen. But I'd seen them even before that. I knew about fuckin' ever since I can remember. Even if anybody cared about shuttin' a door before they fucked with the kids around, tenement walls ain't thick enough to keep out them noises. But most people don't even bother with trying to hide it from the kids. My folks did, but they was considered pretty snooty by most folks in the neighborhood. They was both alkies, and neither of 'em had worked for very long without gettin' the ax, but they'd put on airs when it come to sex and fuckin'. Real proper. What a laugh! No sir, you don't have to grow up on no farm to know what Saturday night ruttin' is!
"I suppose what happened to me ain't unusual none. I'll bet it happens to a lot of girls on The Block. Most of 'em just never admit it, I guess. But I don't mind talkin' about it none. In fact, if'n you gotta know, I'm kinda proud of myself. I was no more'n thirteen or so the first time I got screwed. I already had little titties, and my baby fuzz on my cunt was getting wiry and black little by little; but I wasn't no where as growed up as I am now. And I'd just gone into junior high-right down this street here-and feelin' mighty growed up what with boys beginnin' to notice me an' all. My mom used to run a tab at the deli with Mr. L., who'd always been real nice to me. He always had some kind of treat for me whenever mom'd send me over to get somethin' and 'charge it,' like she always called not havin' any bread . . . I mean the kind of bread you can spend, not the kind you eat. One day, mom'd told me to stop at Mr. L.'s deli on the way home from school and get some stuff-milk and junk like that. It wasn't nothin' unusual.
"So I dragged my ass into his store and right away I could tell he looked sort of funny. I dun-no why, exactly, nothing in particular-just funny.
" 'Hi, Gloria,' he said to me, same as usual. 'How's school?'
" ' 'S'all right,' I said. 'Where's Mrs. L. today?' He had the latest movie magazines tied up next to the cash register and I was trying like hell to get a look at a couple of 'em without him noticing.
" 'She's, uh, she's gone to stay with her mother for a few days. Probably be back home by Friday.'
" 'Oh, yeah. Well, my mom's got a few things she needs real bad, Mr. L.'
"Mr. L., he just shook his head sadly and looked at me real hard. 'Your mom, Gloria . . . has she got any money this time? That bill of hers is getting pretty big.'
"Now he knew damn well nobody had any money. What was I supposed to do? But I could see he was lookin' at me strange-like, sort of taking me all in, like he was trying to see right through my dress.
" 'Tell you what, Gloria,' Mr. L. said, walkin' around to the shop door and pullin' down the blind like he was closin' up. 'If you're nice to me . . . really nice . . . maybe we can just forget about how much today's bill will be.'
"When you grow up on The Block, you got like a seventh sense. You get what I mean? It's like you've been all through everything before and nothin's ever new or really unexpected. You've been there, seen it, and done it. If'n somebody'd asked me point blank if I knowed what Mr. L. was drivin' at, I don't suppose I could've said so in just so many words-but I knew, I knew what he meant by 'really nice.' But like I said, Mr. L. had always treated me right and I didn't mind the idea of bein' 'really nice' to him . . . besides, I'd heard my dad fuckin' my mom so many times that I was damn curious to find out what all the shoutin' was about. So I just smiled at Mr. L., a great big smile that he couldn't make no mistake about.
"He put the 'Will Return' sign in the window, locked the door, and grinning kind of nervously, he took my arm and led me to the back of the shop. I'd never been back there before, but I was especially surprised to see he had a bed back there. I couldn't help wonderin' how many kids had paid their folks' bill with their cherries, but I didn't really care none.
" 'You a virgin, Gloria?' Mr. L. asked me, and he was already breathin' pretty hard. 'I don't want to hurt you, you know that.'
" 'Yeah. I'm still a virgin. Is that awful?'
" 'No, child. Quite the contrary. It means you've got a nice tight snatch.'
"He'd already taken off his shirt and was unbuckling his pants, watchin' me with starin' eyes as I pulled my dress up over my head. It was funny, y'know, when I think back on it. I wasn't specially embarrassed to be undressin' in front of
Mr. L., but I couldn't help being a little scared about lettin' him take my cherry. I was curious, and for a virgin, even hot, but I couldn't help feelin' awkward and silly. But before I knew it, we was both naked and I'd just stretched out on the bed wonderin' what I was supposed to do next, when Mr. L. climbed onto the bed with me -naked like naked could be. His dong was already huge and hard, and it scared me, and I guess I showed it.
"'You want to touch it first, Gloria? Want to play with it for a while, see what it feels like so you won't be scared of it?'
"Well, that seemed real nice of Mr. L., and I was grateful for the chance to see what I was lettin' myself in for. So he stretched out on the bed, and I began to play with his pecker while he fondled my titties. I don't know what I expected, but I was surprised at how nice it felt to have him touching my titties. My nipples were getting real hard and firm, and they were sort of tingling in a nice kind of way. I could feel Mr. L.'s whang getting harder and bigger as I played with it, and I was so fascinated with his cock that I didn't pay much attention to the fact that Mr. L. was sticking his hand up between my legs, and sort of tickling all that flesh in my cunt. But even so, while I played with Mr. L.'s dong, I was getting real excited, feelin' a growin' heat spreadin' through my groin. His pecker was getting so rock-like and burning in my hand that I was sure he had to be on fire inside. And sure enough, Mr. L. started grinding his ass on the bed, moaning to himself, and really pawing at me with sweatin' hands.
" 'Look, Gloria, I've got to open up the store again soon . . . if you keep this up much longer, I'm going to come without even getting inside of you!'
"He wasn't mean about it or nothin', just in a hurry. So I sort of nodded at him, like I could appreciate what his problem was, and he brought his body up on top of mine. While he was get-tin' his balance, his cock felt like a broiled salami against my belly and that was making me real excited. Well, Mr. L. spread my legs so that one of 'em just dangled over the side of the bed, and after some fumbling around, he managed to get his steel rod down so it was jabbing at my virgin cunt. I really felt growed up then, like in a couple of seconds I'd really know what it was all about . . . and I was hot to get Mr. L.'s cock inside of me. And as his prick poked against my twat, I could feel it sliding and I can still remember being surprised that my cunt was sopping with slick juices just waiting to get fucked. My snatch had more sense than I did, that's for sure! It knew what it wanted, even if I didn't. And I remember gettin' real impatient, then, wanting to get fucked and fucked good. Shit! I had me a growed-up box, and a hole that was horny, and Mr. L. had a hard on--what could be more natural?
"Maybe it was a surprise for Mr. L., but I couldn't seem to help myself when I took his prick firmly in my hand, and guided it straight down to my hungry hole and began to insert it for him. I'd seen enough of fuckin' to know that's what had to be done, and if I didn't know just exactly where ray hole was . . . I knew damn well I'd find it, and if I didn't, he would! I wasn't no judge of cocksmanship then, but lookin' back on it, Mr. L. had himself a real nice dong, thick and just as hard as a week-old bagel. I got the head of it in almost without pain 'til it hit what felt like a muscle . . . but I couldn't quite get it past there.
" 'Push it in, Gloria,' Mr. L. whispered in a hoarse kind of voice. 'You've got to push it in past your sphincter! Oh God! What a tight hole you've got. What a wonderful tight hole!'
"And while he was saying nice nothin's to me, I gave a great big shove with my hips, sinking his shaft into my canal for what felt like a yard! Oh wow! Did it ever hurt! But it was Mr. L. who let out a yowl like it was killin' him!
" 'Nothin' like a virgin hole,' he was Baying, 'tight as a gnat's ass, like shoving it into a hot steel tube . . . got the greatest cunt on the block, Gloria, the greatest cunt on the block!'
"Well, his cock was killing me but he was praisin' me so that I didn't want to let on. It hurt like hell to have that great big salami up inside my canal, but I didn't want to hurt his feel-in's so I didn't say nothin'. Besides, I knew it couldn't hurt for very long-if it hurt like that all the time, no girl would ever want to get laid! So I knew it had to feel better soon.
"Little by little, Mr. L. started to fuck me. Real slow at first, sweating somethin' awful, grunting with each little movement he made. He was really hurting me, and I guess I just couldn't help cry-in' a little. But when Mr. L. saw me cryin', well, he slowed up.
" 'Look, Gloria, you've got to relax down inside of there. That's all. If you'll relax, it'll feel better for you, and it'll make it easier for me.'
" 'I'll try, Mr. L., honest I will.'
" 'Such a nice girl, Gloria, such a pretty girl. I'm going to fuck you real pretty, real good . . . you'll be so happy you'll beg me to fuck you again and again . . . let me stick my hot prick up your snatch, Gloria, shove my hard whang up your tight hole . . . yes, Gloria, yes . . . that's better . . . now you're relaxing . . . oh God! what a great cunt you've got!'
"Slowly, then, Mr. L. was shoving his hot dong up into me gradual like, so I could feel the way his cock was filling up my hot canal, pushing past the muscle up there. And little by little, the pain of his prick inside of me gave way to pleasure. It began to really feel great. Relaxin' was what did it, I know, but in a few moments, all the pain went away and I was really groovin' with him fuckin' me. I was gettin' so hot I was sweatin' almost as much as Mr. L. And I figured out that you gotta ride a man, like a horse, gotta push your hips up each time he shoves into you, and that way it don't hurt none. Soon I had closed my eyes and was just goin' with him, feeling his huge prick sliding in and out of me, in and out, feel the head of his cock, that big knob, edging its way inside of me, making a wild scratchin' on the walls and muscles of my cunt, feel how great it was while it slid against each tiny ridge and wrinkle of my wet hole until the tip of his whang would knock against the back of my hole, and his big balls would slap against the cheeks of my ass.
"Maybe I was a born natural fucker, I don't know. But it was like somebody'd opened up a floodgate inside of me, like I'd been waitin' all my days to get fucked-and I was very appreciative to Mr. L. for drivin' me out of my head with his whang up inside of me, fuckin' the hell out of me! I began to push my hips at him harder, and soon I was shouting at him to fuck me, fuck me harder and harder, twisting and turning my body to get that great big hard cock of his all the way up inside of me. I was so turned on I didn't even care who might hear us! And the few moments of pain was all forgotten with how great it was to get screwed so nice. I remember screaming at him to fuck me over and over, and finally I threw my legs up into the air so he could shove it into me real good.
"Doing that seemed to blow Mr. L.'s mind, 'cause he began to slam into me, really giving it to me full force. I could hardly stand how great it was! Honest! I was gettin' royally fucked, and my cunt was so hot and ready that I could feel my juices runnin' down the cheeks of my ass and creamin' even more as his balls made a slapping sound against my butt. It was really terrific and I wondered how the hell I'd ever lived so long without fuckin'!
"Like I said, there are some things you just know without havin' to be told. When Mr. L. started groanin', I knew he was mighty close to comin'-and that turned me on even more, brought me right on up there with him. It was the weirdest feelin' in my entire life, but I knew that what I was goin' through, what my twat was burning with, was called 'coming' and I wasn't going to be left out!
"Mr. L. kept talking to me, and sometimes I could just make out him saying things like, 'Fucking you, Gloria, fucking the hell out of your tight cunt, banging your virgin hole, baby, shoving my hot meat up into your twat and going to shoot my come all the way out your throat!' Stuff like that. Wild things. But when I felt those first spurts of his come shooting against me, it was like someone scratchin' an itch you can't reach yourself . . . I don't know exactly why or how, but feeling his hot come splashing up inside of me made me start to come too, and I thought I was going to blow the top of my head off-my twat was screamin' around his cock, snatchin' at it, like I was trying to drag his whang up into my belly . . . like if I tried hard enough, I could snap his cock off right at the bottom and keep it up inside me forever and forever, and spend the rest of my days twitchin' on it just 'cause it felt so mother-fuckin' good! Oh wow! I didn't know nothin' then about judgin' a man as a lover, but Mr. L. had given me my first real come and I figured that had to be the end of the world! My cunt was clamping around his cock so hard I thought for sure I was breakin' it right off, but Mr. L. just kept moaning over and over again, sweat pourin' off his back 'til I thought he was never gonna quit humpin' his meat into me.
"But finally he quit and just slumped on top of me with his pecker resting inside of me. I almost laughed, but I didn't. I mean, I couldn't help feelin' how his dong was shrinkin' up inside of me, gettin' littler and littler . . . and remember-in' how big and hard it had been just a few seconds before. Havin' had my first lay, still panting with how hot I'd been, it struck me real funny that a man's dingus just shriveled up like that. Shit! After his throbbin' hard on, what was left of his pecker could've passed for a cigar! But I didn't really mind. I'd gotten what I wanted-so did Mr. L.
"We didn't say nothin' as we got dressed again. I just wanted to get my mom's groceries and go home and take a bath-all his come was fallin' out of my hole and makin' me feel like I was peeing in my pants, 'cept it was thicker'n just pee. So when Mr. L. put the things on mom's list in the paper bag, I wasn't paying much attention to him 'cause I was trying to squeeze his come back up into my cunt, trying to sort of suction it back until I could go home and take a bath. So you can just imagine how surprised I was when Mr. L. handed me the bag of groceries . . . and a crisp new five-dollar bill!
" 'That's for you, Gloria,' he said, 'for being such a good fuck.'
"I was torn just for a second. 'But what'll I tell my folks ? They'll wanna know how I got hold of so much money!'
" 'Then I suggest that you don't tell them about it, Gloria. It'll just be our secret. I won't tell anybody, not anybody, about what we did together this afternoon . . . and you don't tell anyone either. Just our secret. Okay, Gloria?'
"Shit! Okay! It was more than okay with me! I'd never had five dollars in my entire life . . . and here Mr. L. was giving it to me just for letting him fuck my pussy! I mean, like, if I'd hated him fuckin' me, even so, it wouldn't have been worth no five dollars as far as I could tell. But that was then . . . now I know better. At thirteen you're no Rockefeller!"
If the case of Gloria H. proves anything it is that there is still a price on virginity. Perhaps, if one accepts the fact that virgins in the modern day and age are harder to come by than they were ten, twenty, or thirty years ago, one could even say that that price is at a premium-particularly among older men, such as Mr. L. This is a "sexual economic situation" that can be simply explained by the fact that whereas in the past girls held off from surrendering their virginity until they were considerably older-primarily because of the puritanical and Victorian ethics that were still quite strongly in force-and in a great many instances had their first sexual relations with a husband, or lover, who was as much as ten to fifteen years older than the girls were, today the average girl engages in coital activities at a much younger age and does so generally with one of her peers.
Another important factor in Gloria's case is the irrefutable indication that the maturity, or rather the immaturity (and it is mental development that is meant here), of the girl at the time of her first sexual intercourse, and the type of person with whom she engages in such intercourse, are strongly decisive elements that determine the direction in which the girl's life's interests will turn. It is doubtful that anyone-except, of course, a pedophiliac, such as Mr. L. obviously was-can either justify Mr. L.'s seduction of young Gloria or consider her experience with the old storekeeper as a beneficial one.
The reason for the subject's easy seduction by the storekeeper is clear from her narrative; it is a combination of her family's economic situation and of her own growing sexual awareness and curiosity. Her subsequent realization that it was not so much her femininity as her virginity-or virginal appearance-that intrigued the older men, prompted her (primarily for pecuniary reasons, secondarily for sexual ones) to go into the service of "Madame Olga's" bordello; this after a brief period of what the subject refers to as "hustling in the street." The subject's status as "a professional virgin" in a house of prostitution is not an uncommon one. Men who frequent such establishments are known to be paying not so much for what they are getting as for what they believe, or want to believe, they are getting.
Society has shown frequent and great concern over establishments such as the one the subject of this case has finally, as the balance of her narrative reveals, found herself in. Arguments both for and against prostitution have been constant in all of the societies throughout history and the world. It is a subject that cannot be properly discussed in the limited amount of space allotted to this commentary. An excellent recent study on the subject is Charles Winick and Paul M. Kinsie's The Lively Commerce: Prostitution in the United States.
What might be considered as a much greater concern is the presence of such individuals as Mr. L. of this case, the psychopathology of such individuals, and the methods that can be brought into use to safeguard society from them. Mr. L. is not a product of the modern age; pedophiliacs -or child molesters, as they are sometimes referred to-have been with society for as long as there have been children and older men. Krafft-Ebing, in his classic work Psychopathia Sexualis, cited several instances of pedophiliacs. One such was Case 127:
. . . Mr. S., aged thirty-five, single, civil servant ; mother insane, brother hypochondriacal.
Patient was healthy, strong, of lively sexual temperament. He had manifested powerful sexual instinct abnormally early, and masturbated while yet a small boy. He had coitus the first time at the age of fourteen, with enjoyment and complete power. When fifteen years old, a man sought to seduce him, and performed masturbation on him. X. experienced a feeling of repulsion, and freed himself from the disgusting situation. At maturity he committed excesses in libido, with coitus; in 1880 he became neurasthenic, being afflicted with weakness of erection and premature ejaculation. He thus became less and less potent, and no longer experienced pleasure in the sexual act. At this period of sexual decadence, for a long time he had what was previously foreign to him-still incomprehensible to him-an inclination for sexual intercourse with immature girls of the ages of twelve or thirteen. His desire increased as virility diminished.
Although the narrative of Gloria H. appears at first reference to contradict, or at least to have no relationship with, the case described by Krafft-Ebing-Mr. L. appeared to be suffering from no case of impotence-it should be pointed out that the impotence of the type referred to above is generally limited in the victim to sexual relations with adult females. This is presumed to be due to a feeling of inadequacy on the part of the male to engage in coital relationships with mature women. It is primarily because of this that a pedophiliac, in an attempt to reassure himself of his virility, turns toward immature girls, who in his mind, will not recognize his sexual inadequacy and with whom, as a rule, such an inadequacy is not generally observed, at least at the outset of pedophilia.
"Well, after that afternoon, I got the brainy idea to make a little business for myself. If Mr. L. thought laying me was worth five dollars and a bagful of free groceries . . . shit! there must be other guys who'd pay me too. There was the baker down the street, the little cleaner's, the butcher, and who knew how many other shopkeepers were dirty old men! At five bucks a head, and already anticipating repeat business, I was pretty confident about my future. As you can tell, it never entered my head that not all growed up men would want themselves a thirteen-year-old. And in case you're wonderin', 'bout me being jailbait age and all that stuff, you gotta remember that people on The Block don't let things like that worry 'em much. When you're poor it just about goes without sayin' that you're always on the wrong side of the law-one way or another. Get what I mean? Folks like to say that there ain't no law 'gainst bein' poor . . . but you'd never know it when you live on The Block.
"But like I said, I figured I had me a nice rosy future all cut out now that I'd found out that a kid could turn a trick just as easy as a growed up whore. So I started to canvass the neighborhood . . . you know, really checkin' out who gave me the eye and who didn't. An' I don't mind admittin' that I was sort of discouraged; most the shopkeepers still treated me like a kid, never sneakin' glances at me the way Mr. L. had done. But finally I found me a John. He wasn't much, but he looked ripe and ready for some hot teenage pussy. He was a housepainter-most of his jobs were on the other side of town-and his wife had died about two or three months before. Everybody in the neighborhood knew him, called him by his first name, even us kids-Bill. I don't know how old he was; maybe forty-five or fifty. But I spotted him one afternoon, inside one of them bookie joints, countin' his winnin's, and then he headed straight for old Maude's apartment-she was the local flop-whore, do anythin' for the price of a drink. I caught up with him just as he had one foot on the stairs. 'Hey Bill!' I said, puffin' from runnin' after him. 'You gonna see old Maude?'
" 'Yeah. What about it?'
" 'Shit! Why bother with an old hag like her? You can have me for a five-spot.'
" 'No shit?'
" 'No shit! C'mon, let's go over to your place.'
" 'Naw . . . I won't last that long, i gotta get my rocks off right now! Let's take my truck down to the park.'
"He had his panel truck parked just across the street from the bookie joint, so I climbed in front with him and we silently drove a couple of blocks to the river's edge where there's a small park. To tell the truth, I was real anxious to get screwed again anyhow, with or without the five bucks! Anyhow, Bill parked his truck and put his sweaty hand on my knee.
" 'How come you're givin' yourself away like this?' he asked.
" 'I ain't,' I explained, 'I'm sellin' at five dollars.'
" 'Practically the same thing, Gloria.'
"But he didn't seem too curious about that, so I didn't say nothin' more while his hot hand crept up my leg. Finally Bill leaned over and kissed me. He pressed his thin lips to mine, smell-in' of beer and paint, and his hot rough tongue stabbed at my mouth while his grubby moist hands pawed at me, rubbin' my back and fumbling to reach my young titties. Bill was just about droolin' to get at me, and his hot breath on my neck tickled as he tried kissin' me over and over like we was there to fool around instead of gettin' down to business. Shit! I had other things to do besides lettin' Bill play around. So I undid the buttons of my blouse and let my young titties hang out for him to see. Bill's face turned white when he saw 'em, and his head bowed down right away to start kissin' 'em, feelin' 'em, and suckin' on my nipples. It felt real nice, even if it was only Bill, and I was gettin' real hot wantin' to get his cock up inside of me. So while Bill kissed my titties, I let my hand move down to his crotch, to feel his hard prick under his pants . . . and he was real hot down there. And that just made me hotter. I really wanted to get his rod up inside of me then, so I wiggled my body, my hips, until I managed to get old Bill so turned on he couldn't stand no more. He pushed me out of the truck and tugged me over to a bushy part of the park. Both of us got undressed real fast, and in no time Bill's warm, wiry body was covering mine and he was tongue-kissing me again.
"I got Bill's hard cock caught between my thighs and positioned it against my own burning snatch. Oh wow! He had a really terrific dong! It must've stretched the whole length of my cunt and stretched out beyond my ass! And I was really torn then. I sure liked gettin' my tits kissed, but I also wanted to get fucked. I brought Bill's face over to my other tit, pushing my hard nipple against his lips, and at the same time I began to flex my thigh muscles against his stiff prick. Bill's tongue washed my achin' nipple, teasin' it with little flickin' motions, and I couldn't help moanin' out how good it felt-it's great to get your titties loved on while you've got a hard cock caught between your legs! Bill was different than Mr. L.-he sort of tried to love a gal first, not just stick it right in here-I-come-ready-or-not! Bill's hand began to caress my body, running roughly all up and down my sides from my calf to my waist, up to cup my breast and suck on it, and to rub my back and my ass. He was a little rough, but he meant well.
" 'I wanna go inside you now, Gloria . . . please, can I go inside you now?'
"Well, shit! I'd told him I was willin' an' how much it was gonna cost him!
" 'I'm really hot now, Gloria, good and hot . . . I wanna go inside you now, shove my cock up your hole. . . . '
"So I spread my legs a little, just enough so that I could feel how my cunt juices was runnin' down to the crack of my ass, and enough so's Bill's cock could slip on my gunk and know how ready I was too. I was, too, really hot and ready.
I wanted Bill's big fat shaft up inside of my cunt! Finally, he found my hole and pressed his fat head against it, pushin' at the hole like it was gonna fight him back. Oh wow, was I glad as his pole started goin' inside of me. It felt so good spreadin' the lips of my pussy and fillin' me up so that my cunt walls were stretchin' to let him in. It was like I'd been waitin' to get laid for years and years!
"I got real impatient with Bill, though, with him goin' real easy like he was gonna bust some-thin' or somethin', so I lifted up my legs and stuck my feet right on his ass and I shoved real hard on his ass until his entire cock was sunk right up to the hilt, right on up there until I could feel the head of his prick bumpin' against that wall up there. He sure had him a real nice piece of meat! My whole snatch was strainin' to stretch enough to take all of his pulsin' cock and I could tell by the way Bill was groanin' that my pussy felt just as good to him as his prick felt to me. 'You just restin' in there,' I asked him finally, 'or are you gonna fuck me. My twat ain't no park bench!'
"And Bill slowly started to pull out a ways with his prick and I could feel how hard it was up inside of me. But then Bill really let me have it. Oh man! Strong, long, great strokes as he pushed his big cock into me, then pulled it out slowly leavin' me just achin' to get it right back up inside all the way.
"Well, I sure hoped so! I ran my hands all over his lean body, teasin' him, and pullin' on the cheeks of his ass like I was trying to split a peach, and that got to Bill. He got like some kind of animal, get what I mean? Started shovin' his big whang up into me real rough, shoving and twistin' his whole body as he did it, rockin', corkscrew style, fillin' up my hole with his burning hard meat. And I was real glad! I arched myself up to meet his shoves, wrappin' my legs around his waist and clingin' to his shovin' cock like I had me a Pogo-stick up inside of me, feelin' his balls slappin' at my ass, with him gruntin' real loud in my ear, his sweat pourin' off onto me.
"I was really just sort of gettin' with it all, when I feel him start shootin' his come into me in great big gobs, splashin' up there. And that was that. I mean it! Bill got his rocks off, pulled his pecker out and wiped it off with a handful of leaves, and started to get dressed-and all the while I'm lying there, my legs spread and my cunt ready. He'd come, sure, but what about me? 'Hey, Bill,' I said, 'you ain't finished already, are you?'
" 'Sure. Why not?'
" 'Well, shit! I ain't come!'
" 'You kiddin' me or somethin' ? What do I care if you come or not? Besides, virgins never come the first time, ever'body knows that!'
'"Who says I'm a virgin?'
"'You ain't? Well, fuck your ass, Gloria! You got one helluva nerve askin' me for five dollars if'n I ain't gettin' your cherry! Shit! I could've had me ol' Maude for just one dollar! I thought I was gettin' your cherry!'
"Well, the long and short of it all was that Bill gave me two bucks, got in his truck and drove off, leavin' me there! I was so damned mad I could've spit nails! Mad, and horny! Bad enough to get shortchanged like that, but Jesus! I didn't get me my orgasm! It was sort of funny, what happened then. Stretched out under that bush, my cunt in the open like that . . . and here comes this old wino, shufflin' and talkin' to himself.
" 'Hey, mister!' I called and he come shufflin' over to where I was. 'Can you get it up?'
" 'Sometimes. You got any money ? '
" 'I got a dollar if you can fuck me 'til I come.'
" 'That's all you got?"
" 'That's it. Shit, mister, ain't every day you gonna get you some young snatch to fuck!'
"So he nodded, unzipped his dirty baggy pants, dropped 'em down around his ankles, and sat down next to me. 'You gotta suck me first or I'll never get it up.'
" 'What'd'ya mean ? '
"So he took his skinny cock and waved it at me, makin' kissin' noises with his mouth. Well, shit, if that was the only way he could get it up, what would you have done? So I leaned over and kissed his dingus a few times.
" 'Stick it in your mouth and kiss it with your tongue.'
"I did what he said, and wrapped my tongue around his dong. Sure as hell, I could feel it getting hard inside of my mouth, little by little, but it was gettin' hard all right! And soon as I figured he really had it ready, I let his cock fall from my mouth and pulled him on top of me, taking his cock with my hand and shovin' it up inside of my hungry hole. By then I was like some kind of wild woman! I got my rocks off, too, that day and the wino never did. He told me that drunks have got that problem, sometimes, and that it hurts 'em like hell to get a hard on 'cause they can't come. But that was his problem. I'd gotten what I wanted, even if it had cost me half my earnin's.
"But I thought about what had happened with Bill quite a bit over the next few days. It was real strange to me that a virgin was worth more money . . . didn't experience count for somethin' ? Didn't guys go to whores 'cause they knew what they were doin' and could really pleasure a man? I was real confused! I figured that my big sales advantage was that I was young and firm and experienced . . . I didn't know if my price was lower'n regular whores or not, but that didn't seem real important or nothin'. But when old Bill was so put out 'cause I wasn't a virgin, well, I had me some figurin' to do.
"But my figurin' was interrupted real soon. My folks got wind of what I was up to. I never did find out who told 'em, but they knew I was sellin' myself and all hell broke loose. Talk about the shit hittin' the fan! And the next thing I knowed, I was bein' thrown out of the apartment right on the street! Far as I could tell, my mom was really upset, real shook up about it; but my dad just seemed most mad that I wasn't sharin' the money I'd earned. I tried to tell him that I'd only earned six dollars, and that I'd gotten them free groceries . . . but he wasn't listenin' none-which was probably just as well since it could've gotten Mr. L. into a lot of trouble. Get what I mean?
"Which is how come I ended up here at Madame Olga's. Oh yeah, I hustled the street for a week or so, but I could tell that I wasn't gonna get nothin' much thataway. I mean, what landlord's gonna rent an apartment to a thirteen-year-old? And I couldn't just spend every night at the movies or nothin'. So I had me a real problem! It was one of the Johns what told me about Madame Olga, told me where she had her place and to just come on over and ask for a job-simple as all that. Marched right on over here, rang the bell, and asked for her. I told her my story, how I had no place to go, and how I was willing to work for my keep, and all that. She was mighty torn about it at first, said my age made the whole thing a real bitch to work out 'cause she could get in awful trouble with a minor in her place and all that stuff. But what with one thing and another, she finally agreed and told me to tell anyone what might ask me that I was her niece from back home.
"At first, I didn't do much but help out with cleanin' up the place. It was a great big boardin' house that Madame Olga had bought after she quit the striptease racket; said she'd been puttin' by for years and years, knowin' she couldn't bump and grind her whole life, and dreamin' of the day she'd own her own whorehouse! And little by little, Olga would let me watch how her girls entertained the Johns in the big living room-she calls it a salon. And Olga started givin' me my education on how to be a professional virgin. It was her what explained to me how some men dig virgins only, and how hard it is to find any, and even if'n she did the Johns wouldn't believe her no how. But we figured that what with me bein' so young and all, they'd believe it about me. Olga said it was going to be a big drawing card, me saying I was a virgin. She explained how we couldn't pull it off for too long, and only once with each customer, of course. Said she could make a lot of money with a 'real virgin' in the place, really sock it to the Johns what dug that kind of thing. And she started to teach me how to act real scared, how to cry and holler . . . the whole act. Said these guys really liked to think a kid is scared silly of 'em and their big dongsspecially if they've got little dongs. We spent an awful lot of time trying to figure out how we could fake my cherry-Olga calls it a hymenbut we never could. About the only thing we figured might fool the Johns was to put some catsup up inside of me before they got to fuck me, and then when they pulled out, they'd think I'd busted my cherry and bled on everything. Madame Olga's real smart!
"My first John was a big deal at the house; all the girls were so happy for me, and they all went along with the story that I was a virgin for sure! But that night, Olga had fixed up one of the rooms special, all in pink with frills and stuff, and we waited for Mr. B. to arrive. Olga said he was a big man downtown but he had a real thing for virgin girls, and that he was payin' through the nose to get my cherry! And when Mr. B. arrived, I was just as nervous as a virgin, that's for damned sure!
"Olga showed him up to the room where I was waitin' and they both came in. Olga stayed in the room with us, and that made me feel a little better.
" 'She's lovely, Olga,' Mr. B. said. 'You're absolutely certain the child is a virgin?'
" 'No doubt of it, took her to see my own doctor!'
" 'Then let us commence,' he said, taking off his winter coat and handing it to Olga. He came toward me, and I was already scared of him for real. He was such a big, towerin' man! I figured he'd have a cock on him that could kill me!
" 'Don't be frightened, child,' Mr. B. soothed. 'I don't want to hurt you, my dear.' He turned then, glancin' over at Olga. 'Has she been prepared yet?'
" 'No,' Olga said slowly, winkin' at me when he couldn't see. 'I didn't know if you wanted to, or what.'
" 'That's quite all right. Probably just as well, in fact. I'd enjoy watching you prepare her, there's nothing so lovely as a virgin's first preparation.' He pulled out a cigar and sat down on the sofa not too far from the bathroom door. 'Proceed,' he said.
"Olga came toward me and taking my hand, she led me into the bathroom. The tub was already filled with bubbles and sweet smelling oils. Olga helped me to undress, telling me how fast I was growin' up, how lovely my titties were, how soft my skin, and stuff like that . . . and all the while, Mr. B. sat and watched from the other room, smokin' his cigar, smilin' and noddin' from time to time. Then she helped me bathe, gently sponging me all over, even my pussy. It was making me awful hot, the hottest I'd ever been before. Olga touchin' me all over and with Mr. B. just watchin', waitin' for his turn to stick it in me. When Olga finished bathin' my cunt, she told me to get out of the tub and then she sprinkled cologne all over me, talkin' about my sweet virgin body, and massaging the cologne carefully around the insides of my thighs and around the swells of my breasts. By the time she had done with all that stuff, I was so hot I could hardly keep from squirming, wantin' to get fucked and come.
"Olga led me back into the bedroom, stark naked, and posed me in front of Mr. B. He seemed right pleased at what he saw-, and nodded to Olga. 'Go ahead, prime her. I am beside myself with anticipation!'
"So Olga took off her gown and she didn't have nothin' on under it-I'd seen her naked before, but somethin' about that night made her look special . . . really gorgeous. .And we stood in the middle of the room like that, both of us nude, and I couldn't help admiring her body. She was so soft, so white . . . with light brown cunt hairs, and big full tits with hard brown buttons at the tips. They were really very pretty the way they stood out from her body. She moved toward me a little, and I was gettin' real hot to touch her tits, to see what they felt like-and I knew that Mr. B. was sittin' on the edge of the sofa watchin' what we'd do. So I put out my hands and cupped both her tits, feeling how hot they were, and I began to rub 'em, using my thumbs to roll her nipples around. Before I even knew it, Olga had managed to get one of her big tits in my mouth and I started to suck on the nipple, trying to get all of her breast in my mouth. Olga seemed to like that, and brought her body closer to mine, somehow gettin' my thigh in between her legs. She felt real wet in the crotch, and her pussy hairs were ticklin' my leg. Then Olga started to rub herself up and down on my thigh, rubbing her slick cunt all over my leg, and I was gettin' so hot I thought I'd bust! When would Mr. B. decide it was time to fuck me! But I tried to look real innocent-which wasn't too hard 'cause I'd never fooled around with Olga before that moment.
" 'Gloria,' Mr. B.'s voice called, 'touch Olga's ass. Feel the inside of her buttocks and down to her cunt, feel how hot she is, and how wet! Don't be shy, Gloria, Olga loves to be touched by girls, don't you, Olga.'
"I guess when you're hot, you're hot. . . and it don't matter none who you're doing it with . . . just as long as you're doin' it! So I ran my hand down to her ass and into the crack. Her asshole was like ready and waitin' and my finger just sort of slid in. I could feel how her asshole was grabbin' at my finger like a baby cunt, but then I pulled out and came around to her cunt. My hand could've been in a bowl of pudding, she was so wet down there. I just kind of slipped and slid around her pussy, feeling how Olga was rotatin' her hips at my touch, until I found her cunt hole . . . and then, real sudden like, I found myself shovin' first two, then three fingers right on up her hole like I had a cock and was fuckin' her. She groaned then, and began to play with my own titties, running her hands all over my body, but each time Olga would get near my ass or my snatch, Mr. B. would tell her to stop. Finally, Olga began rubbing her burning dripping cunt against my thigh hard, really grinding as if she was trying to shove her pussy all the way through my leg. In no time, I knew she was comin' from the way she was humpin' on me, and groanin' and gaspin' for air-and I was about ready to explode from bein' so mother-fuckin' hot knowin' Olga had come.
"Just then, Mr. B. came up to me and led me to the bed. I hadn't noticed when he'd gotten undressed, but he sure had and his whang was stick-in' up in the air a mile high! 'Don't be frightened, Gloria, I don't want to hurt you,' he whispered, pushing me gently down.
"But I caught Olga's signal to show panic, so I faked it. I pretended to cry and I sobbed that I was scared of his big thing and all that stuff. Mr. B. couldn't have cared less, in fact, the more scared I acted, the more forceful Mr. B. got. And in no time, I could feel his big dong shoving at my hole and startin' to fill me up. And then he shoved it all the way in, real fast, real hard. It hurt for real, and I yelled out for real. So then he started to fuck me hard, shoving in and out of me with that great big whang of his, talkin' all the time about my tight virgin cunt and stuff like that.
"Olga watched us, playin' with herself, lickin' her lips and squirming all over the sofa every time Mr. B. rammed his huge dong into me. Olga's face got all screwed up and she screamed with the orgasm she'd just given herself . . . and that sent Mr. B. off too. He started to come and come and come-and I was so fuckin' mad I started to cry . . . real tears! Jesus! Olga made it, Mr. B. had made it-and once again, nothin' for me! But Mr. B. thought it was 'cause he'd hurt me, so he gave me a tip of twenty dollars! Twenty! Well, he left and then Olga made me take another bath, and then she sucked me off. That was my very first time getting sucked off, and it was the greatest! Olga's taught me a lot about making love, and she sure is terrific in the hay-got a tongue on her you wouldn't believe! Really great!
"Olga don't let nobody fuck me who ain't pay-in' for a virgin, says she don't want my hole to get too big. But we both know we can't pull this stunt much longer; I'm gettin' too old to fool anybody. Besides, I think Olga's gettin' a little jealous of anybody else fuckin' me . . . she's gettin' real possessive about me. I don't mind. I ain't got nowhere to go."
It is extremely doubtful that Gloria H., even were she to agree to extensive psychotherapy, could be "re-programmed" to lead a life that would even approach one of relative normalcy; there is little chance, particularly in view of the obviously lesbian involvement that is developing between the young girl and the madam of the house of prostitution, that the subject will consider either schooling, of which she had a minimum, or a heterosexual marriage.
CHAPTER TWO
The Ache of Innocence
"My fingers flew over the keyboard with a sudden renewal of energy. It was almost five o'clock and I was eager to go home. Not eager to be home-there was nothing in the neat, attractive apartment waiting for me. Still, it had been a long day and a hot bath would be nice.
" 'At last!' Doris sighed, pushing herself away from her desk. 'I thought today would never be over. How about a lift home, Carol ? Alex couldn't pick me up. He actually has a job interview!' She grinned.
" 'Sure.' I reached for my purse and left the office. We hurried for the elevator and walked quickly the half block to my car.
" 'God, I hope Alex gets that job. We can't go on forever living on my dumb salary and love. I can hardly remember the taste of steak.' Doris took a cigarette out of her purse and pressed the lighter on the dashboard. She waited impatiently until it finally heated up. 'Steak! Ha! Hamburger!' But her pretty face was smiling. She had been living with Alex almost a month, and it was obvious she was more than willing to live on love alone.
" 'He'll get the job, Doris. This one or the next. Besides, you're bound to get the next raise.' I felt a little self-conscious about my new car and pretty apartment. Doris, who lived in the same building and had helped me get this job, made considerably less a week than I did.
"My feeling passed quickly, as Doris began to talk of her boyfriend again. She was very open about her relationship with Alex. Between giggles, Doris told me about how he had surprised her the evening before by climbing in the bathtub with her. As she went on to explain how the slippery nearness of their naked bodies had excited them so that they had to leave the tub and make love right there on the bathroom rug, I managed an interested but not shocked remark or two. Inside, however, I was anything but cool. I was relieved when Doris finally got off the elevator at her floor.
"I unlocked my door and left my purse on the floor by the door. I started to make myself a cup of hot tea, thought better of it and poured out a small glass of sherry. Then I turned on the TV and settled down on the couch to catch the afternoon news while I sipped my drink. But the news was only background music for my excited thoughts. What would it be like to have a man who slipped into your hot bath? What would it be like to have a man?
"My lips turned up in a grim little smile. What would Doris think if she suspected that I was a virgin? Would she first be shocked, and then amused? Amused! I took a warming sip of my drink while imagining my friend's face if she knew the truth. Amused? She'd be hysterical! How many virgins were there of my age? It wasn't as if I were sixteen anymore. To be a virgin at twenty-four sounded a little sick, even to my ears. In this day and age.
"Yet the whole thing seemed so logical, when I played it back in my memory. Not sick at all. Maybe a little old-fashioned, but not all that weird. I rolled the warmish wine around in my mouth and clicked off the set that failed to capture my interest that night. Mechanically I rinsed out the glass, dried it and put it back in its place. Just as mechanically I prepared a small steak and a salad for my dinner. I ate slowly, remembering
Doris' remark about never getting to eat steak anymore, but I felt no real pity for the girl. How could a lousy steak compare with the feel of a man's arms around your body?
"I had absolutely nothing planned for the evening. I even crossed off writing my weekly letter home to my mother and aunt. That could wait for another night, when I felt less . . . empty, somehow. I did the dishes quickly and fixed myself a hot bath, being lavish with my bath oils. The spicy-scented foamy water looked good, and I undressed gratefully.
"Naked, I hung up everything carefully before allowing myself the pleasure of sinking into the steaming water. That was another thing I loathed in myself, yet seemed powerless to change. Everything had to be done properly and in perfect order. I was neat and methodical. There was a place for everything, and everything had to be in its place. Sometimes I even gagged on my personal habits. Inwardly, secretly, I longed to throw things about, to finish with my food and be content to leave the mess alone until I felt like taking care of it. . . .
"I hesitated before the large mirror next to the tub, looking at myself. Carefully I began winding my long dark hair into a loose bun to keep it out of the water. But my eyes strayed to my exposed body. There was a momentary satisfaction in the fact that my long, slim body was well shaped, angular but softened by the full curves of my breasts and hips. My flat stomach curved softly into the plump mound of my sex, and the wiry curls of brown hair covering that looked very womanly. My lush breasts stood up well without a bra, and the full nipples that tipped them looked inviting.
"As I secured a pin in my hair all the pleasure went out of me. Sure, the mirror reflected a fairly attractive young woman with a good body and the potential of beauty, almost, but what was the good of it? What pleasure did it bring anyone? The pleasure of my own hands slipping frantically over the hard little knot of my clitoris on those nights when sleep was impossible? The pleasure of my own fingers squeezing and rubbing those nipples as my other fingers teased myself into a shuddering orgasm ? Certainly not pleasure to the boys and men who had tried to make love to this body in the past, and failed. . . .
"I lowered myself gratefully into the hot, bubbly water, feeling somehow as if I were hiding something ugly and embarrassing in the clean water. Where had it started, this odd condition, this much-post-adolescent virginity? Why was the world teeming with young women who, married or not, seemed very matter-of-fact about taking their pleasures where and when they could ? I was not some special case, some sexless being, immune to the demands of the flesh. Red-faced I thought about the hours of anguish I'd known, burning for an intimate touch. . . .
"Oh, I knew it started with my mother and aunt. My father had died when I was a baby, and I grew up an only child with my mother and her older sister who had never married. I guessed
Aunt Elsa was a virgin, too. At least I wasn't the only family flop, I thought bitterly.
"My mother and aunt were very old-fashioned and strict. They over-protected me while making me very responsible, practical and fastidious. I was a quiet, shy, uncreative child, in short, everything they wanted me to be. I was also very slow to develop, and I think that pleased all three of us. I was fifteen before I started menstruating and nearly that before the first softness of breast or hip was obvious. Everything I knew, from the stories told to me by my mother and aunt, from the Fundamentalist Church I had to attend, from what I read in the books they gave me, everything insisted that sex was nasty and evil, and that the girl always ended up hurt or shamefully pregnant. I knew that had a lot to do with my avoidance of sex as a teen-ager. I wore out-dated clothing and hair-styles, and I can't say that anyone was exactly beating down the door to change my mind about it, either.
"I can still remember the terrible guilt I felt when I'd try to sleep at night and be instead so terribly aware of my body. The flannel gowns I wore would rub and slip against my young flesh, and the nubbins of my breasts would seem to swell and ache from the touch. Sometimes I would think of some boy or other I would see at school, and I would wonder what it would be like to be kissed, hard and passionately on the mouth. When I couldn't stand it any longer I would touch myself all over, but instead of that bringing relief, it would only make my body ache all the more. And afterwards I'd burn with guilt and the unreasoning fear that somehow my mother and aunt would find out how I'd felt and what I'd done.
"Things changed, though, in my senior year. In spite of my attire and lack of makeup, boys began to ask me out. After much talk and a long argument, I was finally allowed to go out. It had to be a double-date so that I'd never be alone with the boy, and I had to be in much earlier than the others. Miraculously there was still a boy who wanted to date me, who would put up with all the restrictions.
"Dave was a senior also. He was a nice looking, popular boy, and I couldn't imagine why he'd want to date me. I almost thought it had to be some kind of cruel joke. But if I thought I was inadequate or unattractive, Dave didn't share my opinion.
"We went to a drive-in movie along with Dave's best friend Harvie and his girl, Toni. I'd taken great pains for this date, dressing as attractively as possible. I wore a soft green sweater I'd had for ages. It was a little small, but that made it all the better. The skirt I wore was much too long, but I managed to hike it up a few inches just before leaving the house. Trying not to be obvious, I wound my hair in a bun and secured it with only one pin which I pulled after leaving the house. A quick shake of my head and my long hair was spilling over my shoulders. Dave's eyes told me that I looked fine.
"I wasn't so backward as to be unaware of what went on at the drive-ins. After the general kidding around and the popcorn and soda orgy, Dave reached for me and pulled me close to him. Any other girl in the world would have taken this casually, but I nearly died of nervousness and embarrassment. I tried not to be stiff in his arms, not to give myself away so easily. Here I was, almost eighteen, and I was facing my first kiss as if it were the absolute end of the world.
"His lips were unexpectedly warm as they covered mine, and the sensation was exactly as if someone had painlessly kicked me in the belly. I gasped silently and could do no more than let it happen. I was sickeningly glad when the kiss ended, not because I didn't like it, exactly, but more because I didn't know how to handle it. Dave didn't seem to notice my confusion, though. He kissed me again, this time working his huge, wet tongue into my mouth!
" 'You're so sexy, Carol,' he whispered against my ear after that kiss. 'You really turn me on.' His lips and breath against my ear sent shivers down my spine, but instead of being able to give in to the delicious sensations, I was instead terrified. My head was spinning and I didn't know what to do. I looked around to see what Harvie and Toni were doing. They were locked together, their mouths joined and I could see that Harvie's hands were all over his girl friend's body.
"Dave began kissing me again. This time he began moving his hands, too. At first they stayed around my shoulders, my hair, the back of my neck. But slowly they began creeping down my arms and toward my breasts. No one had ever touched them before, and when Dave's hands cupped them I froze inside, so overwhelmed with shock that I didn't know enough to simply push his exploring hands away. A terrible panic gripped me, and with it a maniac's logic. Tersely I whispered something about the girl's powder room and reluctantly Dave released me. I stumbled from the car, walked in the direction of the rest rooms but continued on past them, and I didn't stop walking until I was safely home. I can barely imagine what was said in that car when they realized I wasn't coming back. For the last few months of school, however, a little ripple of laughter followed me whenever I walked down the halls.
"Fortunately I was able to go away for two years of college after high school. I attended a small women's college nearly one hundred miles from home. I did well in school and slowly became exposed to a whole new world. Many of the girls were from big cities and most of them had been around a great deal more than I. It was stimulating to hear some modern thought for a change, and a great deal of the fears and foolishness hurled at me by my aunt and mother dissolved in that atmosphere. I began to date a little, mostly when urged by my roommates who had boyfriends at a neighboring college. I got to the point where I could relax and enjoy being kissed, and finally to where I could allow a boy to play with my breasts through my clothing. But when they wanted to go further I always felt myself stiffen and resist. Since these were nice young college men and not determined rapists, my firm 'no' was always enough. Sooner-or later my date would become interested in some other girl, and I decided I would just have to wait around for the right young man. I still had visions of marriage and virginity going hand in hand.
"After school I got a job in my home town and went back to living with my aunt and mother again. Under their eyes I think I regressed a little, and when I got an offer to transfer out to San Jose I accepted eagerly. My mother and aunt were sick about my going so far away, but in a way I also think they were secretly relieved. They could go back to their clubs and activities without worrying about my virginity. It and I would be out of their hands.
"I worked only a few months at the San Jose office of my home town firm. The reason I finally left was my boss who, at nearly sixty, began showing a more than professional interest in me. I suspected his feelings but ignored him until the night he had me stay late to help him with some paperwork.
"The typewriter was noisy and I didn't hear him come up behind me. Until his mouth was suddenly at my neck and his hands cupped tightly around my breasts I had no idea he was near. He talked fast, urgently, his wet lips hot and unpleasant.
" 'Oh, Carol, Carol. . . . I've wanted to touch you like this since the day you walked into this office.'
"I finally found my voice. 'Don't, Mr. J-, please! Let me go!'
"He only held me more tightly. 'I want you, Carol. I know I'm not young and handsome like your boyfriends. But I have money . . . I can make you happy. . . . '
"Regaining my strength, I pushed the old man away and stood up. I backed away from him but he grabbed my arm.
" 'Listen! I don't want much, Carol. Only to make you happy! I'm not young any more. I'm not demanding like your young men friends must be.' He forced me against him and brought his lips to my ear. 'Don't fight me, Carol. Please. I just want to be nice to you. I don't even want to fuck you, Carol. I only want to use my mouth to make you happy.' He spoke in excited little gasps. 'I can make you happy, Carol, darling. Just let me kiss and suck that beautiful pussy of yours! That's all I'd ask of you! Just to lick your sweet, delicious young cunt. . . . '
"My face flaming, I managed to push the old man away from me. Grabbing my purse I ran out the door and through the long darkened hallway. I ran as if all hell was loose behind me.
"I never went back to that office, not even to pick up my check. I even went so far as to move to another apartment. Even the thought of the old man made me a little sick, yet for months afterwards, late at night or even in the middle of the afternoon, what he had said to me would pop into my mind. I'd try to block it from my mind, but every so often his words would persist. 'Let me kiss and suck that beautiful little pussy. . . . ". . . lick your sweet, delicious young cunt. . . . ' Nights when I couldn't sleep I'd think of it. Other nights the thought of some big, hard penis forcing its way up my tight cunt kept me sleepless. Finally, in utter desperation, I'd promise myself that the next time I was out with an attractive male, that would be it. No more holding back, no more saying no. I'd let him make wild, passionate love to me, and at long last I'd know what it was like to be a member of the human race.
"But the next time I did go out on a date, it would be the same old way. Either the male would be so obviously insincere that I'd hold back, or I'd feel the old fears or doubts. Once or twice I really wanted to, but force of habit would force the word 'no' from my lips, and a sharp disappointment would shoot through me as I'd feel the man reluctantly bowing to my wishes. It was increasingly worse and worse, and the last man I'd been seeing, Mark, had been the final blow.
"He was a friend of Doris' boyfriend Alex. Mark was nearly thirty, single, very attractive and seemingly interested in me. We went to Doris and Alex's for dinner and then ended up alone at my apartment. He began making love to me, but since this was our first date and all, he was easily put off sexually. He called me for a date two days later and we went to a show. He began calling me once or twice a week, and each time he seemed genuinely interested in finding out all about my likes and dislikes, my past and what I hoped to find in the future. We were on the verge of getting very close, and somehow I sensed the sexual thing was in the way. Deep in the back of my mind I sensed that if we could only share that, then the final barriers would be down. We could really know each other then, and, who knew, possibly even love each other. Before each date I would tremble with excitement and expectation. Each night I promised myself that there would be no holding back anymore. But each time I would find myself, at the last minute, backing away from his arms. I would hear the protests tumbling from my lips, even as I screamed silently inside for him not to listen, to take me in spite of my protests, take me by force, if need be. But each time, of course, Mark would give in, and each time his gaze would be more confused and a shade more irritated. And then, nearly a month ago he simply stopped calling.
"I worked the washcloth over my body hard as I thought of Mark and what could have been. Damning myself, I scrubbed brutally, as if scrubbing my flesh could relieve it of its aches and desires. Poor frightened little virgin, I thought, lifting myself from the cooling waters. Such a frightened little thing. But a good girl. Still a virgin. At twenty-four. I toweled myself savagely, working the rough terry cloth harshly across my tender flesh as if to punish it for its purity. I was just reaching for my robe when the doorbell rang. . . . "
Carol M., as she admits herself in the first half of her narrative, is an old-fashioned girl; however, unlike the great many other old-fashioned people in the world, there is absolutely no hypocrisy in the subject's extreme reservation about sex. She is simply the product of her overposses-sive and overprotective mother and aunt. There is no psychopathology of any kind in the subject, at least not anymore since, as the balance of her case reveals, she had finally been drawn out, taken, freed, deflowered, and shown the beauty of both love and the sex that is part of it.
It is extremely difficult to feel anything but pity and sympathy for the subject, and more than a modicum of disgust for her spinsterish "guardians." Their ability to instill their daughter and niece with the Christian mores of the medieval times, and the agony that such an instillation had produced in a perfectly normal girl is both frightening and indicative of the Fundamentalist beliefs in general.
That these beliefs and mores are part and parcel of the overall Christian attitudes toward sexual relationships and virginity, is supported by the following excerpt from William Graham Sumner's book Folkways: A Study of the Sociological Importance of Usages, Manners, Customs, Mores, and Morals:
. . . Tertullian and Jerome (in anticipation of the end of the world) regarded virginity as an end in itself; that is to say, that they thought it noble and pious to renounce the function on which the perpetuation of the speciea depends. The race (having left out of account the end of the world) cannot commit suicide, and men and women cannot willingly antagonize the mores of existence . . . which are imposed on them by the fact that the human race consists of two complementary sexes. Jerome, in his tracts against Jovinianus, wanders around and around the absurdities of this contradiction. The ascetic side of it became the cardinal idea of religious virtue in the Middle Ages. . . . In the replies of Gregory to Augustine (601 A.D.) arbitrary rules about marriage and sex are laid down with great elaboration. They are prurient and obscene. The medieval sophistry about the birth of Christ is the utmost product of human folly in its way. Joseph and Mary were married, but the marriage was never consummated. Yet it was a true marriage and Mary became a mother, but Joseph was not the father. Mary was a virgin, nevertheless. . . .
And it is this type of teaching that has been passed on from generation to generation, befuddling the minds of the young, and instructing them, in effect, that they were the product of "an unholy act."
It is pathetic, and ironic, that one of the major movements in the history of mankind-the Christian movements-that is supposedly founded on the concept of all-inclusive love, has been as much responsible for a number of great tragedies of historical proportions as well as for innumerable small ones, one of which the narrator of this case would have become were it not for the aggressive personality of her boyfriend Mark. Her final submission to him-it almost amounted to a case of gentle rape-will undoubtedly be condemned by both her mother and her aunt; fortunately, however, there is nothing they will be able to do anymore to warp the subject's mind.
Perhaps the most outstanding characteristic in this is the subject's ability to have been able to suppress her normal sexual drives without at the same time slipping into one or another neurosis, a generally quite common end result in similar situations. Benjamin B. Wolman, in his Call No Man Normal, writes:
A strong ego is in control of the entire system [of the defense mechanisms]; it satisfies some of the id cravings, while it postpones or modifies others and flatly rejects and suppresses those demands which it deems unacceptable. A weak ego resorts to the use of defense mechanisms against impulses. One of these defenses is the development of an attitude diametrically opposed to the id desires. For instance, an individual with strong homosexual impulses may crusade against homosexuality. An individual who hates his father and is very unhappy about it may develop a ritual of affection directed toward his father; an individual torn by an impulse to be dirty may develop compulsive cleanliness. . . . [A very common occurrence.]
The points he enumerates that may be brought directly to the case being discussed are several. There can be no doubt that the subject's ego is not a weak one. She obviously "satisfies some of [her] id cravings" by modifying them: she masturbates, but not in a compulsive-neurotic manner. Her sexual tendencies are strongly heterosexual ; yet she maintains them, not resorting to the use of defense mechanisms by developing homosexual interests and thereby "justifiably" rejecting her heterosexuality.
Her obvious inclination toward neatness, to which she refers several times and which includes her frequent bathing may be a mildly neurotic characteristic of personality, in that her natural impulse under the suppression of her sexuality would be to rebel in some other area, and the area of cleanliness and neatness would be the most commonly observed one.
As Gloria M. continues the narrative of her case, to the point where Mark succeeds in breaking through her resistance, there is a noticeable change of tone in the subject's narrative. There is no longer the suppression-moderated control of her feelings present; rather there is an elation, following her coital relationship with Mark, particularly, that suggests a total rejection on her part of the reserve, the shyness, and the fear of sex per se.
There is only one danger inherent in the sub-quent development of the subject's life-style, and that is the potential she now holds for going off on a sexual tangent, so to speak, i.e., for going from what was an extreme case of chastity and self-control to what may be hypersexuality and total inability on her part to bring any control into it.
As her narration is resumed, there is evident a slackening of her inhibitions even in her manner of speech.
"Having no doubt that it was Doris, possibly with good news about Alex's job, I belted my robe tightly in case Alex was with her and hurried to answer the door.
"He was inside before I was aware of who it was. 'Mark!' He was the last person I'd have expected, especially this Mark, his lips drawn bitterly and his breath reeking of alcohol.
"He shut the door and locked it. Then he pulled me into his arms. 'Hi, Carol, honey. Long time no see, huh?'
"I was startled to realize how good it felt to be in his arms again. Then I became acutely aware of my near nakedness. 'Wait, Mark. Let me put something on. I.. . I just got out of the bath.. . . '
" 'Not this time, baby,' He said, pulling me closer to him. His lips crushed mine.
"It was different from the start, this time. I could sense that the whole thing was going to be different. Mainly because it was going to be out of my hands. Not because Mark had had too much to drink-it felt more like he had made up his mind about something-us-before he came to my apartment.
"His tongue was hot in my mouth and it began to move around almost lazily, tapping against my tongue and invading my throat, reminding me once more of old Mr. Jand his desires.
But Mr. J-and everyone else was pushed out of my mind as I felt Mark's strong fingers reaching for my breasts. He began to knead them without breaking our kiss, and I felt my knees go out from under me.
"Finally Mark pulled away, but only to take my hand and lead me into my bedroom. As we neared the big bed I hesitated.
" 'Oh, no, my sweet. None of your changes of heart tonight.' He kissed me again, and during the kiss he eased me to the bed.
"Never had I been kissed like this before, never with such an air of finality. It was as if his body were chanting you're going to get fucked, you're going to get fucked . . . over and over, as if the decision were not mine to make at all. His body was fire on mine, and through all my fears and doubts I could feel an answering fire, a something deep inside of myself which was praying that this indeed would be it, that now it would finally end, this era of nonliving. I began to struggle against his masculine attack on my body. I even began to whimper, all the while knowing a little voice inside was begging that he continue.
"It was that inner voice that Mark was hearing. I knew it and I knew he knew I knew it. All my struggling was only so much more window dressing, another excuse to rub my body lewdly against him. I don't know when he began tugging at the belt of my robe. I was too aware of the bar of rigid, throbbing flesh confined by the fabric of his trousers. My entire belly and thighs seemed to be magnetized by that swollen prick, and my hands were flying from the back of Mark's neck to his broad shoulders, to his chest and back up to his neck again, when all they really wanted to do was unleash that monster from his pants and run lovingly along its length. But I was still too inhibited, still too fearful. Even then, even with the juices pouring from my aching pussy I might have rejected him had he first asked my permission. But, fortunately, he didn't ask and wouldn't accept my offered denial.
" 'No, Mark . . . please . . . stop! Don't do this to me, Mark . . . please. . . . Oh, God! Ahh . . . please . . . stop. . . . ' Had he stopped I'd have gone out of my mind, but still I had to try. It was like something was forcing me to play out my role, even then, while Mark had freed my body of the robe and was openly running his hands up and down my body, squeezing and mauling my tender breasts and nipples which ached for his roughness, pushing a hand down over my ribs, the indentation of my waist, the swell of my belly and hips, and finally down over the plush pad of my sex, parting my full thighs to steal within them. I cried out and moaned with joy and protest as he carefully spread my secret lips apart to press into my juicy crevices. A finger twitched over my burning, throbbing clitoris while another found and sank deeply into my womanly, straining hole. I squirmed all over the bed as the one hand worked on my taut nipples and the swollen mounds around them while the other hand invaded my oozing, creamy vagina. Never before had any hand other than my own touched this flesh, and the sensations shooting from the tips of my breasts to the knob of my clitoris were overpowering.
"Groaning, Mark lowered his face and caught up a stiff nipple into his mouth. He began to suck on it hard while I gasped into the pillow and hot tears flowed from my eyes. He released the burning bud when it was twice its former size, and immediately his mouth closed over its twin. His hands left my pussy then and went to work on his own clothing.
"Somehow I managed to gasp out a steady stream of protests. Anyone hearing us would have sworn I was being savagely raped, even while I was stiffening my back and pressing even more of my breasts into his sucking mouth. I couldn't seem to control myself, though. My body danced to one tune while my words still pleaded another. Bit by bit I was aware that more and more of Mark's bare flesh was against mine, and once his pants were finally down and I could actually feel that throbbing prick of his up against my naked belly I burst into tears. We both knew they were tears of joy and excitement, though, and I put my arms around his neck and cried even more loudly as Mark parted my legs and mounted me. I glanced down and saw his giant cock inches from my pussy.
" 'Take it in your hand, honey. Go on, Carol, take my prick. Take it and put it into you.'
"Still bawling like a baby, I reached down and had my first feel of velvety-skinned swollen cock. I rubbed it lovingly, then guided it to my tearing virgin cunt. Worshipfully I steadied it against my juicy slit and released it, bringing my hand back up around his neck.
" 'Oh, God, you're not going to . . . not. . . you . . . you're not really . . . going . . . to . . . stick that . . . in. . . . Ooh! Ah! Oh, My God! Ooh! Ooh. . . . ' My shivering body tensed as slowly Mark began to shove his big prick into me. It was like having a thousand fireworks all go off at once inside me. I suppose there was some pain as his cock plunged through my cherry, but all pain and pleasure was as one, and I cried and moaned and hung on for dear life as his massive tool shot into my hole and slowly pulled out again only to plunge right back into me again. It was like being stabbed over and over again, and I could do nothing more than remain still and take it. I wasn't even aware of my first orgasm. The wave upon wave of intense pleasure was too deep to separate one pleasure from the next. I could feel my pussy convulsing around his burning cock is all, and when Mark began to fuck me harder and harder the convulsing started in all over again.
"For the most part we were without words as we rode out our first fuck. His head was all lips and tongue, and part of the time he was licking my ear or a nipple, and part of the time he was crushing my mouth under his or sucking on my tongue. His hips were beating against mine, filling me full of cock then deserting me, then filling me again. I wanted him to stop at once, just so that I could catch up on the pleasure which I felt was happening so fast it was gone before I could capture it fully, and I also wanted him not to stop, to never stop, to continue without stopping until I could take it no longer, until my heart burst from the exquisite sensations flooding my entire being. A little part of my mind was stunned that this was what I'd put off for so long, but a larger part knew it would be like this always, and that part gloated with sadistic pleasure.
" 'Now, Carol!' Mark groaned, racing his hips, forcing all of his dick into me faster and faster. 'Now! I'm coming, baby! Now!'
"His grinding hips and ramming prick started another explosion in my womb, and I was panting along with him as he began to shoot stream after stream of hot come into my ripped pussy. I could feel it flooding me, and I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his hips, welcoming his hot come into the mouth of my pulsating womb.
"When finally he rolled off me to gasp a giant lungful of air I moaned with a brief flair of disappointment. But his hand went to my cunt. He shoved a finger into me, soaking it in the richness of our mingled juices.
"When he could finally speak he began by chuckling. 'Shit, Carol, why the hell didn't you tell me you were cherry, darling? Here I've been going out of my mind trying to figure out what was wrong with me, why you kept turning me off. Was it good, baby?' "I managed a shy yes.
"He rolled over and stared down at me in the near darkness of the room. I felt as if I'd looked into his face forever. 'It wasn't good, baby. It was fantastic. It was great. It was only the start. Hasn't anyone made love to you before at all? I mean in any way?'
" 'What do you mean ? ' I asked, knowing what he meant.
" 'I know I'm the first to fuck you, Carol. Am I also going to be the first to eat you? Is mine going to be the very first cock you've ever sucked ? '
"His voice, the questions he asked, the way he asked those questions, with the firm assurance that of course we would do all he said, excited me all over again. I nodded meekly, unable to speak.
"He reached down and gently began to rub my titties. 'Well, I have to admit it, it's the last thing I ever expected. But in a way I'm glad. It's going to be fun to find out how many ways you can moan. . . . '
"He kissed me softly at first, then slowly began to intensify his demands. His tongue licked and sucked mine, and I felt my excitement grow all over again. His mouth moved all over my face and neck and finally landed on my tits. He licked at one nipple until it hardened, and once it was very hard he left it to ache while he licked the other stiff. Then he closed his mouth over the first and began to chew lightly on the tender flesh. I moaned as he went from one to the other, taking his time and enjoying the ride. I was very excited all over again before he was half through teasing me.
"Finally his lips moved away from my tits, moving back up to cover my lips again, then dropping to kiss the heavy underside of my breasts. Then he started kissing my ribs and my hips. I shivered deliciously as he began kissing my belly, but it wasn't until he pushed open my thighs and began kissing the inside of one that I gasped and bit down hard at my bottom lip. I couldn't quite believe he really meant to do to me what he said. What old Mr. J-wanted to do to me. . . .
"Suddenly his hands were under the springy cushions of my firm little ass and my sweating cunt was being lifted and spread open. I glanced down just in time to see Mark's handsome face lower to my exposed pussy. I sucked in my breath as his tongue began to play around the outer edges of my slit. It felt warm and delightfully ticklish as it flicked over my pussy. Then, with no real warning, Mark began to lick my clitoris.
"If he hadn't been holding me so tightly I'm sure I would have jumped out of his grasp. The sensation of his tongue whipping back and forth across my most tender flesh was nearly more than I could take. Crying out with a curious blend of pain and pleasure, I made all sorts of attempts at getting away from him, but it was useless. Powerless to withdraw, I closed my eyes, stiffened my body and let him have his way with me. It took only a matter of seconds before I was gasping with a different sensation, one of undiluted, inexpressible ecstasy. He was lapping at my cunt like a hungry dog, flicking his tongue over me wildly, and it felt so good I couldn't keep from exploding into another orgasm almost immediately.
"'Oh, Mark! What are you doing to me? Oh, no, don't stop! Keep licking me like that! Just keep licking me! Oh! Now you're sucking me!' I I knew my voice was too loud. The neighbors might even hear. But I didn't care, because Mark had taken my hard clitoris into his mouth and was sucking on it as if it were my tongue or maybe a tiny prick. I could feel shooting sensations from my clit to my tits to my asshole and back again, and I knew I was about to come again.
" 'Ooh, keep sucking me like that, Mark! I'm nearly able to come again!' I was only inches away from my most intense orgasm of all.
"Without interrupting his wonderful sucking of my cunt, Mark slipped a finger into my pussy and another into my asshole. He began to rock them back and forth rapidly, finger-fucking me while he sucked away at my clitoris. I screamed and had to bite my pillow as I came that time. Mark gave my pussy one last, loving kiss before moving from between my legs.
" 'Oh, Mark! I've never, never known anything like this. . . . It was so wonderful . . . so wonderful. . . . Is . . . is there anything you want me to do? For you, I mean?'
"He grinned. 'Now that you happen to mention it,' he said, swinging his hip over my face so that he was straddling my head. From between his legs swayed his cock, more enormous and swollen than ever. Below the towering prick hung his huge balls, hairy and powerful looking. Even after all I'd just been through, I blushed at the sight of his dick and balls so close to my face.
" 'Go on, baby. Open your mouth and suck my big prick right inside. Do it, Carol. Suck me. You'll love the sensation of having a mouth full of prick. Just open your mouth and let me shove it down that lovely throat of yours.'
"His words were like a chant. My lips parted and immediately the head of his dick was between them and pressing into me. I could smell the sweat of his body, the traces of his recently spilled come, and even the peculiar odor of my own body.
"Mark moved smoothly, groaning and moaning a little as he proceeded to fill my mouth with cock. I nearly gagged on it, but he pulled out and gave me a chance to get used to having it in my mouth. I could feel his balls and the lean cheeks of his ass against my tits as my mouth was being plowed, and soon I was rather enjoying the sensations, especially as Mark's moans of pleasure kept increasing. Experimentally I flicked my tongue around his huge shaft, and the shudder of joy from Mark made me want to do it again. Soon I was sucking and licking his cock just like I'd been doing it all my life, and from the remarks Mark was making, I was doing it right.
" 'Carol, honey. . . . You're a natural born little cocksucker, baby. . . . You've really never done this before? Ah, that's it, go ahead and lick it some more. Ooh, honey, I love the way you suck!
Keep doing just exactly what you're doing and I'm going to drop a mouthful of hot come down your throat. Yes, just like . . . that.. . . '
"I was lifting and squeezing his big balls gently as my mouth tightened and bobbed against his cock. It was lovely having his big thing in my mouth and I was determined to give him as good a time as he had given me with his mouth.
" 'Oh . . . yes . . . now. . . . ' Mark groaned, stiffening. I could swear his dick got an inch bigger just before his balls shot the first load into my greedy mouth. I sucked hard and was rewarded with a second spraying. For a panicky second, I didn't know what to do with my mouthful of juice, but the pressure of his still huge dick made it impossible to do anything except swallow it. Lovingly I milked the last few drops from his balls. Finally Mark forced me to stop sucking him. He sank to the bed with his arms around me.
"I held on to him and breathed deeply, still not entirely sure I wasn't dreaming the whole thing up. But the smell and taste of sex was too heavy in the room. Besides, the ache in my cunt told me it had all happened, and the throb in the same place made me hope there was even more to come.
" 'Have I learned everything now?' I whispered.
"Mark grinned. 'Almost. But not quite. Besides, that was only the practice run. Let's get a little sleep, then we'll start all over again, okay?'
"I nodded and snuggled up to him, dropping one hand to tenderly grasp his soft cock. I had the feeling it was going to be a very short nap. After all, I had a lot of time to make up. . . . "
Although from an overall point of view there can be expressed nothing but optimism for the subject's future life-style development, there is still that potential of her going rapidly toward the other extreme, i.e., toward an excess of sexual activity, perhaps even promiscuity.
CHAPTER THREE
The Man Who Loved Virgins
"I love virgins. As a matter-of-fact I can hardly abide any other type of female as a bed companion. But while most men who share this preference with me derive their main pleasure from the deflowering of these innocents, I am just the opposite. I do not like breaking the cherries of virgins; on the contrary, I like avoiding doing just that, and I like virgins because they, or at least many of them, are interested in holding on to their virginity. You see, I'm a man who gets little enjoyment from fucking young or old ladies in the cunt. I consider the cunt sort of, well, nasty-a silly gash where something much more interesting could have been placed. So I seek out women who like any kind of sex besides regular fucking. And young virgins fit the bill very well.
"I realize, of course, that my tastes are out of the ordinary, even odd. But after all, they are more varied than most men's. For instance, I thoroughly enjoy all the types of preliminary sex -you know, foreplay and all-including every sort of oral play. This is probably going to surprise you after what I said just a moment ago, but I really don't even mind what is delicately called cunnilingus-licking and sucking a woman's cunt . . . as long as I don't have to stick my prick in there. I suppose there's some sort of fear that Freud or one of these modern psychological thinkers could explain involved, but I really don't care-I am what I am, as Popeye used to say.
"On the other hand, I don't mind sticking my cock in any other part of a lady's anatomy-especially an asshole or a nice juicy mouth. I relish such things, in fact.
"Now, if you're starting to make connections in your mind concerning what I've said about asshole-fucking and 'silly gashes' and my distaste for normal intercourse, and you're coming to the conclusion that I'm a fag (or 'gay' to use the more accepted term), well I'll just have to assure you that you're wrong and leave it at that. I don't care what anyone thinks about my sexual behavior. But I'm quite willing to discuss it, since I'm not in the least ashamed of anything I've done.
"The sex life of me, Michael J-, has consisted up to my current thirtieth year on this planet of one affair after another that has constituted a search for the perfect woman. Perfect for me, anyhow. I'd rather skip all the messy little meaningless false steps and concentrate on those affairs which were easily standouts from the rest.
"Marsha was my first true love. She wasn't the first one I fooled around with, but she was the first one I hit it off well with. I was sixteen and she was merely twelve. By the time things started with her, I had had enough experience with other girls to have completely discovered what my proclivities were. I knew what I wanted, and Marsha knew what she didn't want, and-for a while, at least-that was enough of a basis for some great teenage sex.
"Marsha and I couldn't let anyone else know that we were seeing each other-the age differences were too great and the southern town of 25,000 that we lived in was one of rather strict moral character. So, after mutually deciding that we wanted to try out this thing called sex together, without damaging the precious jewel of her virginity, we planned a meeting one Saturday afternoon in an old deserted shack that lay on the edge of town.
"Once we were together there, we stumbled and fidgeted around for some time, not knowing exactly how to get started in a comfortable manner. But finally she, being the bolder of us two, took off her sweater, leaving her red skirt and black shoes on. The sight was stimulating to a sixteen-year-old boy, to say the least. It was a hot summer afternoon, and her small but certainly prominent breasts gleamed with a slight sheen of perspiration. She held her arms down to the sides, even though it must have been hard for a shy twelve-year-old to do, and she let me openly admire her beauty.
"Her olive complexion turned redder with blushing as I stared at her. Her dark, long hair cascaded down over thin shoulders, which were slightly freckled, to almost reach the point where her pert titties swelled up from her delicate chest. She was as slim as a fawn, and her belly, indented very cutely by a deep navel, was almost board-flat.
"As I gazed at her semi-nudity, not only did she blush from her face to her upper chest, but there was another sign of response; her small, boyish nipples began to poke outward until they were larger and thicker than any male's could be. They were a gorgeous brown-red color. Making my first overt movement, I reached over and tweaked one. A strange smile lit her face as I did, and her reaction turned me on as much as anything. A hard on was growing in my jeans, approaching its upper limit in size, and I was sure that she'd noticed the bulge it was causing. Amazingly, her eraser-like nipple grew ever larger as I held it between my forefinger and thumb. I grabbed the other one in the same way, and a soft sigh escaped the young girl's lips.
"Now I began to stop wondering what I was supposed to do, and just followed the demands of my increasing lust. I bowed my head, stuck out my tongue and licked one of the nipples I had been tweaking. Another sigh came from above. At first I licked lightly, teasingly, but this soon transformed into a more feverish, hard approach, until finally I swooped the nipple and much of the white breast that surrounded it into my mouth. I sucked inward; I continued to lick; I bit ever so lightly. Her hands went to the back of my head. Meanwhile, my hand played the devil with her other breast.
"As we got more and more carried away, we fell, without really noticing it, to the dirty floor of the shack. I hastily pulled off my shirt and jeans while she divested herself of her skirt and shoes.
"Her eyes bugged out at the sight of what sprang up from my loins. My prick was man-size and very imposing, and I think it was the first one she had ever seen. Some of her enthusiasm left her for a moment, but as soon as I saw that she was beginning to have second thoughts I went after those breasts again. After she'd begun to relax some and get back into the heat of the situation, I let a hand trail down to that secret place between her legs. It was creamy and hairless, and the outer lips were already more than a little moist. I let my forefinger push in just a half inch or so, while I silenced her objections with a tongue-to-tongue kiss. I was feeling very much in control of things, considering I had been with only three other girls-and those had been frustrating and disappointing experiences.
"My hard prick kept rubbing against her soft thighs, and though I had no thought of trying to put it in her virginal cunt-that would have made it immediately shrivel up-I'm sure she wasn't totally convinced of that. So, to keep her from getting so frightened that she might pull away from me before we could have a satisfactory conclusion, I went straight to a very bold request.
"I asked her to suck me off. I figured that she might be so scared that I was going to force her that she might be relieved at anything else. I was right.
" 'I want you to do it to me too,' she said. That was fair enough, so Marsha and I each indulged ourself in a wonderful sixty-nine. It was the first time for both of us. I think we each did a good job, though, considering our inexperience.
"She had innate talent as a cocksucker. She got above me and took my hard rod in hand, placing her wet cunt above my face. I felt a little distaste for what I was supposed to do when I stared at her pink slit, but this changed rapidly after I felt a delightfully pointed tongue stick out and touch the rim of my circumcised cock. The tongue traced a complete circle around the rim three times, then the whole head was engulfed by her hot mouth. More in involuntary reaction, like a knee-jerk, than anything else, my head raised and I glued my lips to her cunt.
"As she moved her head up and down on my stiff rod, playing with the base with her hand, I ran my tongue from one end of her slit to the other-from her clitoris (though I wasn't too sure about what or where that was at the time) to her asshole. To my own personal surprise, and to her squirming delight, I found myself concentrating quite a bit on her asshole, licking it and dipping my tongue in. Her cunt was actually dripping, the juice rolling down her sleek, sweaty thighs.
"My prick grew even larger in her thin-lipped mouth. She was really into cocksucking, plunging as much of the rod into her mouth as she could, until it was pounding against the opening of her throat. Even that seemed to give way, and delightful sensations that I'd never even dreamed of took hold of me as the head of my cock was titillated by her clasping throat. I grew ever more excited until finally the moment came, and for the first time in my short life I spewed the contents of my balls into a girl's mouth. Spurt after spurt flowed into her virginal mouth until she couldn't swallow fast enough, and it dripped in creamy gobs onto my crotch. I'd had my pleasure and satisfaction, but I dutifully kept my lips and tongue working on her cunt until she'd had hers. Her climax came a minute later, and it seemed to be a good, heavy one. She squirmed around so much it was nearly impossible for me to keep my mouth on her. Finally her hips fell in a spasm of complete satisfaction, and I moved out from under her, turned around and kissed her.
"We had many other fine meetings that summer, most of them centering around oral sex, until finally we broke up.
"The reason Marsha and I broke up was because she wasn't willing to go beyond what we regularly did. On the other hand, I was always looking for new methods, new vistas. In particular at that time, I wanted to fuck her in the ass. She didn't go for that idea, and neither did any of the girls I was to meet in the next five years, but finally, when I was twenty-one and had moved to Los Angeles, California, I met a virgin even wilder than Marsha-one who was willing to allow me to indulge in a greater variety of perversions. Her name was Jeannie, and she was a would-be actress.
"I guess Jeannie will always be kept from stardom because she refuses to do what a starlet has to usually do to take the first step toward the big time-lay on the casting couch for a succession of producers and directors. She'd sucked off quite a few, I was to learn, and had done just about everything else with them, but she inevitably wound up pissing them off because she wouldn't fuck them. She was nineteen and still, unbelievably in this society of ours, a bona fide virgin.
"I met Jeannie at a party-a pretty wild one given by one of the big producers in town. I was a newcomer to the Hollywood party scene, being new in town and just a third-string makeup man for a small company. But Jeannie, even at her tender age, was already an old pro at these things, and she spotted me right away as fresh material. It was her who picked me up. The party had progressed to the point where most of the food had been consumed, some movies watched, couples and groups formed, and now the lights were down low and soft music was playing and various tete-a-tetes were going on all around the three largest rooms of the mansion. These tete-a-tetes were mostly sexual, or getting that way.
"There I sat, all on my own, knowing only the person-another makeup man-who had brought me to the party, and he'd disappeared somewhere. All around me there were people doing what comes naturally (and perhaps unnaturally), giggling, sighing, moaning, clothes flying about. I just sat there with a hard on. Then I spotted another solitary figure across the room. It was female-definitely female. Big, big tits, to start with, that were about to overflow a low-cut, slinky satin dress. Long, shiny blonde hair-almost platinum. That was about all I could tell in the semi-dark. Except for one more important thing: she was looking at me-staring, in fact-and smiling!
"As my eyes were able to focus more on her in the low light, I saw that not only did she have a fantastic body, she had a fabulously pretty face as well. She was probably the most beautiful woman at the party and she was alone and giving me the eye. Then she actually came over and sat down beside me-before I even thought about daring to make a move.
"Well, to make a long story short, as we talked
I found out about her virginity and the unpopularity it caused her in the Hollywood in-crowd. (Actually, people liked her fine, but avoided her sexually because they knew they wouldn't get fucked.) And I confessed my leanings. We were both delighted and went tearing through the hallways of the place looking for an empty bedroom.
"We couldn't find one, but we did find a room that Jeannie guaranteed would be even better for us than an empty one. In it, a couple of her friends, a man and a woman-both fortyish, had just finished fucking. In fact, they went through the writhing and groans and moans of coming just as we opened the door on them-in glaring light. They weren't the least bit embarrassed at being discovered in orgasm-on the contrary, they just looked up, after a short period of total exhaustion, and waved hello. The guy, after an introduction, left the room to search for different quarry, leaving Jeannie, myself, and the new woman alone there. Jeannie and the woman smiled at each other in a special way and then Jeannie told me to settle back in a chair and just relax and watch for a while.
"I wasn't exactly in the mood for that, but I did as she told me and I was soon glad I did.
"Jeannie, in her search for every type of available sex outside of fucking, had come upon the advantages of lesbianism, or at least bisexuality, and she practiced such with great relish and skill, as I and the redheaded fortyish woman were soon to find out.
"Nineteen-year-old Jeannie took complete control of the situation and turned the other woman every way but loose. First she went directly to the slightly fat but pleasingly shaped woman's cunt and sucked out the sperm that the man had deposited there. Then she roamed over what seemed every inch of the woman's skin with those busy lips, sucking at her lust-laden nipples, locking tongues, teasing ears, kissing the insides of elbows, caressing the soft skin of thighs, even mouthing the woman's toes. It all sent the older woman out of her mind with ecstasy, and when Jeannie's expert lips landed once again on the woman's cunt, the redhead went into orgasm after orgasm. The blonde kept after her, even though she tried-it seemed-to get away, until the woman couldn't move. Then she rose and planted her own cunt on the woman's face, forcing her to eat her out until the dominant younger girl came, too. I watched her raging orgasm with an equally raging prick that was demanding some sort of relief. After she'd finished twisting about on the woman's face with the last strains of her climax, she beckoned me over with a finger, and I was very willing to be cooperative.
"Jeannie started off by ordering the other woman to offer me her tits to suck on while Jeannie went to work on my throbbing cock. Her lips and tongue traced a tantalizing up and down path along the sides of the towering pole, until my hips were lurching up at her face madly. Meanwhile I filled my own hungry mouth with the older woman's slightly drooping boobs, teasing the wide aureoles and nipples until they stood out red and angry.
"After several minutes of deliberately teasing my cock, Jeannie finally totally engulfed it in her hot mouth. The feeling was terrific, out of this world. Her head instantly began a wild, insane bobbing motion, putting the most wet friction possible on my weapon. In response, I bit down on the nipple I had in my mouth. The redhead let out a savage yell, started to pull the breast away from me, thought better of it and shoved in even harder against my face.
"This kept on for a while and then, at Jeannie's instructions, the two crazy women changed places. Now I had Jeannie's huge, motherly tits to squeeze with my hands and suck and bite. The older woman pumped my cock voraciously with her mouth.
"Finally, I had to raise up and away from the nineteen-year-old's great breasts to shout at the other woman, 'Stop!' It's a good thing she immediately obeyed my command because if she hadn't she would have had a gob full of come and I wouldn't have been able to do what I wanted most to do with Jeannie-at least not for thirty minutes more or so.
"As Jeannie and I positioned ourselves for an ass-fuck, the other woman started pleading for me to fuck her first. She meant in the cunt, of course, and that was out of the question. Even if she'd meant in the ass, I would have passed her up at that moment. She was certainly no virgin. And Jeannie was. As I moved behind her, in fact, I made a quick, hardly noticeable test-pushing my finger into her cunt. There it was-that precious maidenhead just perceptibly blocking entrance.
"At the same moment when I made this test, I asked the redheaded fortyish woman to leave the room. Thanks but goodbye. She was pretty angry, but she did as I asked. As soon as the door slammed, I placed my cockhead against Jeannie's asshole.
" 'Jesus, don't do it without wetting it a little!' Jeannie said, jumping.
" 'But it is wet,' I argued impatiently. 'From you two sucking me off.'
" 'You'll need more than that,' she replied. 'It's going to hurt enough as it is. You're a very well hung man, you know.'
"She sure knew how to mix a request with flattery. She recommended that I rub the head of my prick against her wet vaginal slit. Usually I would have been terribly reluctant to do this, but since she was so nice about it, and so beautiful, and I wanted to do this so very much, I went ahead and did as she suggested, moistening the upper half of my cock thoroughly in her dripping but virginal trench. Then I brought my rod back up to the pinched aperture of her anus. By this time, my cock was absolutely aching for stimulation, friction, and relief. With a careful but firm push, I lodged the whole crown of my penis in her asshole, watching the operation from above with glee, and hearing her loud gasp with equal delight.
" 'Oh, God, wait a minute before you shove any more of that gigantic thing in me. Just a few seconds, please. Oh God, but that monster is a thick one,' Jeannie said.
"I concentrated on the lovely sight of her shapely body, crowned by her hanging platinum hair, for a while, and let my mind swim with the unbelievable sensations that her tight aperture was causing around my cock head. Her anus naturally tried to push the cock back out, and would have succeeded if I hadn't kept a steady pressure against her asscheeks, while my hands held onto her wide hips.
"I pushed my enormous hard on another inch into her grabbing asshole. She made a sound in her throat like some dying animal. I gave a snapping lurch of my hips and another full inch, maybe two, imbedded themselves in the extraordinarily tight channel.
" 'Oh shit,' she gasped gravelly. 'It hurts, baby, but it hurts real good. Give me more.'
"I answered her by plunging what was left of my throbbing prick-and fully half of it was still outside her-into the clinging hole with a grinding thrust.
" 'Ahhh,' we cried out together.
"I let the cock rest where it was for a moment, fully enjoying the strange and new sensations, then I pulled back slowly until once again half of the fat penis was outside her hole. I pushed it in again, but very gradually this time.
"Time after time I made that glorious trip, letting more and more of my cock out so that more plunged in with each lunge, and my back and forth motions got faster each time, faster and faster, until I was fucking that sweet asshole, ramming against her heavy asscheeks, with a piston-like action.
"I fell forward some and supported myself against her strong back so that I could let one hand grab as much as it could hold of one mountainous tit, while the other searched out and found her piping clitoris, and strummed it in rhythm with my hard thrusts into that wonderfully clinging ass.
"As we both approached our orgasms I grabbed her big tit and pinched her pea-like clit as roughly as I could. My actions became automatic, and she behaved like a well-oiled sex machine herself, pushing back against my each and every stroke with fervor. She was gasping out every dirty word she could think of between ragged breaths.
"I kept pouring cock into her like a madman, like it was going to be my last come on earth, not holding back in the least, yet still my cock stayed hard and refrained from coming until my ears heard and my body felt the unmistakable signs of her own orgasm. When it came, it was hard to hold onto her and keep my prick lodged in her, but somehow I managed, and throughout her long and wild climax I kept throwing in that fat cock to the hilt.
"Just as she went into the last writhing of her come, her passion finally subsiding, I felt the sperm well up in my balls and shoot forward into her ass. I came with short, quick, hard strokes, pumping her depths full of what seemed to be a gallon of sperm.
"I collapsed on top of her and then fell over to the side. To my surprise, she didn't just lay there to catch her breath but instead turned her body about on the bed and sucked my softening but still hard prick into her mouth. She sucked and licked my cock until it was completely clean. Her mouth was like a wet, soft vacuum cleaner, and she kept at it a long time. Miraculously, what she had in her mouth grew as large or larger than it had been before, and I had the pleasant decision of what to do with it now to make.
"She made a suggestion and it sounded great to me . . . I got on top of her as she lay on her back-and put my stiff cock between her watermelon tits. She held them against the cock from the sides and I pumped away to another climax, spewing my cream onto her neck and face.
"Night after night following that, Jeannie and I experimented with ways to have sex without breaking a cherry. She was great-but a better virgin was to come in my life . . . Mary."
Michael J., the subject of this case history, is a classic paradigm of a neurotic whose neuroses are the fruit of old-fashioned morality and old-wives' tales. In the first portion of his narrative, the subject gives two interrelated hints as to the reasons for his refusal to engage with a female in regular coitus. First, he states that "the . . . town . . . that we lived in was one of rather strict moral character"; further in his narrative comes an even more specific and revealing statement.
In his rather crude description of his sexual affair with Marsha, he says: My [erection] kept rubbing against her soft thighs, and though I had no thought of trying to put it in her virginal [vagina]-that would have made it immediately shrivel up [italics are the commentator's]-I'm sure she wasn't totally convinced of that."
The above-cited statements made by the subject, even though they are concealed in the verbiage of his narrative and are not repeated anywhere else within it, are the key to the nature of his problem. Pursuant to the first basis of Michael J.'s development, being raised in an environment of "strict moral character," a quota-tation from Bertrand Russell's Marriage and Morals throws considerable light on the nature of such a moral code. Bertrand Russell writes:
. . . St. Paul does not deign to tell us why he thinks fornication so wicked. One is inclined to suspect that, having thrown over the Mosaic law, and being therefore at liberty to eat pork, he wishes to show that his morality is nevertheless quite as severe as that of orthodox Jews. . . .
. . . The Christian view that all intercourse outside marriage is immoral was . . . based upon the view that all sexual intercourse, even within marriage, is regrettable. A view of this sort, which goes against biological facts, can only be regarded by sane people as a morbid aberration. The fact that it is embedded in Christian ethics has made
Christianity throughout its whole history a force tending towards mental disorders and unwholesome views of life.
Such as the views expressed by the subject of this case. And the pathos of his situation becomes even more acute when one stops to consider the second telltale statement of his narrative.
The first interpretation of the phrase-"that would have made it immediately shrivel up" that comes to mind is that Michael J. is suffering from what might be termed "situational impotence." In other words, one is given the impression that the subject loses his erection whenever he attempts intromission. That, however, is not the case. The statement is actually one of the subject's beliefs regarding the results or consequences of the "sinful act of fornication." One can hypothesize the exact wording of the old-wives' dictum that was directed at the subject at some point in his youth, probably when he was apprehended by the adult authorities in an attempt at, or possibly even in the actual act of, copulating with a girl: "If you do such a nasty and evil thing again, God will make it [the penis] fall off or shrivel up into nothing."
The side effect of such an admonition would, naturally, be that the boy-if he is young enough at the time the threat of divine punishment is directed at him-not only begin to consider the female pudenda as evil, but would extend the definition of evilness to include any female who had permitted such "a nasty and evil act" to be perpetrated upon her. The end result of such reasoning would, or could, understandably lead the subject to avoid any female except one who was a virgin.
How can one reconcile the subject's single-minded, or single-channeled, fear-of-punishment motivated "morals" or "ethics" (of not engaging in vaginal sexual intercourse) with his otherwise totally hedonistic behavior? He is not averse, as his narration indicates, to engage in all sort of anal and oral acts, excesses and sexual crudities, often with girls well below the age of consent.
One could probably explain this apparent paradox of morbidly aberrant morals and of hedonism existing side by side by a supplantation or transference of normal sexuality-condemned, in fact, as "evil" by the subject's early childhood authority figures-to an approximation of such natural sexual drives. The hedonistic acts, consequently, may be considered as being both defense mechanism acts and acts of antiauthoritarian rebellion.
Still further, the subject's absolute reluctance to engage in vaginal intercourse, and his resultant extra-coital activities, as well as his limitation of such activities to virgins, could be explained by the possibility raised earlier in the commentary, specifically that of actual "situational" or "circumstantial" impotence. This would in no way rule out the earlier given interpretation of his reference to "shriveling up."
Robert E. Rothenberg, in his Medical Guide to Sex & Marriage, unequivocally states that "psychiatrists have discovered a close relationship between impotence and a highly developed sense of guilt." David Reuben, in his Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex but Were Afraid to Ask, comments:
There is convincing evidence that the source of male potency is the brain. Without going into the complicated theories involved, some psychiatrists have excellent results in curing men of impotence. Simply by talking, that is, helping them understand the emotional conflict underlying their sexual handicap, normal potency is restored. If the defect were physical, all the words in the world wouldn't have the slightest effect on a crumpled penis. Further proof comes from research using hypnosis. In response to suggestions implanted during a hypnotic session, erection and ejaculation can be restored and precisely controlled. These events can be placed even under the conscious control of the patient.. . .
There can be no doubt that there is strong, underlying feeling of guilt in the subject of this case. The step from the guilt feeling, first felt at the time of his being caught in flagrante delicto with a girl, to impotence in any subsequent attempts on his part to engage in regular coitus with a girl, is a natural one. The association of his inability to erect with the female genitalia-specifically the vagina-being the target for the erection is psychologically a "sound" one. The redirection of his sexual drives into non-coital ones cannot be considered as anything other than logical under the circumstances.
The only other alternative that the subject would have considered-aside from seeking psychiatric help-would have had to be total abstention from sexual activity.
"I just met Mary two months ago. She's only thirteen years old, but she likes older men. She likes me especially. And she absolutely loves sex. She was a virgin when I met her, but she isn't any longer. Yes, I broke her cherry. But not the normal way, as you'll see.
"Mary's a runaway. I picked her up hitchhiking one day, and invited her over to smoke some dope. I know that and what I've done since is taking quite a large chance with the law, but when I explain what Mary looks like, maybe you'll understand.
"She's really built for her age. I mean, you just don't see that many thirteen-year-olds with a body like this. She must have started getting tits when she was eight or nine, because now they're two big, full pouches, and though she never wears a bra, her tits, the way they stick against her tee shirts and sweaters, look like she's wearing one of those uplift type bras all the time.
"Her nipples are very unusual too. Usually girls of her age have those little pink nipples, but Mary's were as big and full as some woman's who's had three or four babies. They poked some pretty noticeable indentations in her shirts. And they really gave your mouth a lot to play with.
"Though her boobs were big, her figure was slim everywhere else, except for her big butt and a little bulge at her belly. And she had no, absolutely no pubic hair on her mound. Which was really strange-but delightful as well to me.
"And she was a virgin. In fact, she'd just run away from some very strict parents who'd kept her away from boys quite successfully. She'd never petted, and had only been kissed a couple of times. She was fresh but willing, in fact eager, to be unfreshened. She gave off sexual vibrations as soon as she climbed into my car. I caught her staring at my crotch a couple of times. The second time she glanced at my pants must have caught a vision a bit different from the first time, because my own glances at her thighs, revealed to the panties by a supershort miniskirt, and those big, upstanding breasts, had caused my prick to begin hardening beyond my control. This chick was a prize and I had to have her.
"Well, after a little dope had drifted down our lungs, our talk soon turned to sexual matters, and I was soon asking her some very personal questions. It was then that I found out about her virginity. I took a chance and told her about my own proclivities-my desire for virgins and the peculiar reason why I desired that kind of woman. She dug it.
"That first time we had our clothes off in about fifteen seconds, and she looked up into my face with those big, brown eyes, framed by her short, but stylishly cut dark brown hair, wondering what I was going to do first. I decided to be bold.
"I picked her up in my arms, and carried her, giggling, to my big king-size bed. I threw her down, dove onto the bed, spread her thighs briskly with my hands around her ankles, and put my mouth straight on that indescribably cute, hairless twat. I took about five or six long swipes all the way up to her clit from her asshole. Then I started teasing three different areas of her individually.
"I started off with her asshole, really dug my tongue tip deeply in there, poking and searching around for a full five minutes. She was squirming like a puppy. With a good grip on her thighs to keep her from squirming out of range, I moved up further and delved into the recesses of her cunt, starting with the smooth outer lips, working into the moisture of the inner ones, and then letting my tongue work like a wet, miniature cock between her moistening walls. My tongue swirled around and around with abandon and her hips began a responsive circular motion in the opposite direction, a circular motion that became wilder and wilder with each moment.
"As she seemed to be reaching her peak, I suddenly shifted upward to her clit, and let my tongue dance circles around it. Then I took the little organ between my tightened lips and pulled on it a few times, the yanks causing her to groan loudly each time. She was gripping the back of my head with her hands and her fingers were really starting to dig in. This was going to be her first orgasm-except for masturbating, that is-and it was obviously going to be a very heavy experience for her.
"Finally, I just let my tongue strum back and forth as fast as it was able to do until the inevitable conclusion came about. It didn't take long. She came, yelling and twisting about.
" 'Michael, oh this is good. Don't stop, I . . . uh . . . really dig this. It's so . . . uh-uh-uh . . . fucking heavy. Oh shit.. . wow . . . that was really great.'
"I immediately told her where to put that mouth she'd been yelling obscenities with-right on my now-very stiff cock. She went after it with admirable enthusiasm. She was a bit awkward at first, but that was understandable. After a few minutes of her mouth moving all over my cock and balls I didn't care. I got on top of her, keeping my cock buried as deeply as possible in her mouth at all times, and rammed it to the back of her throat. She reacted beautifully, tightening her lips in a satiny grip around my plunging cock. I rammed harder and faster, going out of my mind with ecstasy, until finally with spurt after spurt I shot my load down her throat.
"She licked my cock and balls all over once more in appreciation, and told me how much she loved what we'd just done. She said she couldn't decide whether she'd liked being sucked off better than blowing me. I told her that as soon as my cock got back into working condition I'd give her something else to compare those to.
"In about ten minutes I started in on her again.
First, I kissed her every possible erogenous zone. I licked her ear. I bit at her breasts, pulling the white slopes into my mouth as deeply as I could, strumming her oversize nipples with my tongue, giving her little nips with my teeth on every section of those two fantastically firm set of tits.
"I moved on to many other parts of her body, kissing and licking strange places where no one had ever touched her but herself. I avoided only her cunt and the immediate area around it, to build her sexual tension up to a new high level. Soon she was begging me to put my mouth against her twat. I started at that center piece of her anatomy, tempted to taste the juices that flowed so abundantly from it again, but I resisted, and made her turn onto her front.
"I let her lay flat for a few minutes and let my mouth travel caressingly across her back-shoulder blades, spine, ribs, until I came to where the well-shaped globes of her ass began to rise, and the cleft between them formed.
"I nibbled her flat, pink, healthy asscheeks, getting rougher and rougher until she was moaning, then I stuck out my tongue and allowed it to soothe the red spots that my teeth had caused. Then I moved to the deep valley. Starting at the bottom of her spine, my tongue took a trip downward, licking in a teasing, slow way. Automatically, her butt rose to meet my caresses, making it easier for me to reach my final destination, her nice, clean, pink and hairless asshole. I didn't touch it right away, but let my tongue tip skip it momentarily. I licked the protuberance of flesh between her asshole and vagina, even barely touching the lowest extremities of her cunt lips, where the juice moistened everything.
"I lapped upward with long strokes a half dozen times, transporting some of the cunt fluids to her asshole, which, in the action, I licked for the first time.
"Mary moaned and groaned and writhed against my face as I did this. I was glad she was enjoying my performance. I certainly was. Now her asshole was all wet and slimy with a mixture of my saliva and her cunt juices. I strengthened and curled my tongue so that it took on the properties of a miniature cock, and poked experimentally at the puckered hole. Again and again I probed until some of the tightness began to give way and my hard tongue tip finally began to find refuge where it longed to be.
" 'Uh, oh, uh, yes . . . do it to me,' the young virgin whimpered loudly.
"Finally, I was actually able to embed most of my tongue in her. She was being wonderfully cooperative and intelligent for so young and inexperienced a girl, loosening her anal sphincter so that my teasing tongue could enter. I loved her for it.
"I kept at this for a good five minutes or more, letting one of my hands slip into the groove of her reeking vagina and pulling at my cock with the other. Before long, I had the world's most aching and demanding hard on, or so it seemed, and I knew it was time for the final act. I hoped it wouldn't hurt her too much, and yet I looked forward to inflicting some pain, as I knew this ass-fuck would do to her.
"She was uncertain about what I was up to when I pulled her hips up and moved my loins behind her own. 'Are you . . . are you going to fuck me?' she stuttered.
" 'Not exactly, my dear,' I said in a comforting manner. 'I'm not going to put this big, fat cock in your cherry twat. I'm not the least bit interested in doing that, as I've explained to you. What I am going to do is stick this big sausage up your ass. . . . ' She pulled away a bit, or tried to; I kept my hands firmly locked on her hips. She gasped. 'Don't worry about it. Enjoy it,' I continued. 'It will hurt, but you'll be able to bear it. And before you know it the pain will magically become pleasure, and you'll soon be begging me to feed my giant cock into your little asshole. You'll be pleading for me not to stop.'
" 'But. . . ' she started to interrupt, but before she got more than that one word out of her mouth, I shut her up by pushing half my cock into her wettened asshole. In the same motion, I leaned forward and clasped one of my palms around her mouth, stifling the scream that I'd known would come with my assault on her hole.
"Without mercy, I gathered my strength and rammed another quarter of my burning cock into the resisting aperture. I continued to hold my hand over her mouth, and it's a good thing I did. She acted as if I was killing her.
"After I'd seen if I could place the whole of my seven-incher in her-and I was successful-I began to fuck her in earnest. As soon as I thought she'd quieted down enough, I let go of her mouth and again grasped her hips with both hands, to get better leverage. I really plowed it to her, socked it to her, rammed it to her. I fucked that asshole like a madman. I thought of her innocence, her young age, the way no man had done this before, of her virginity, which-a couple of inches from where my big prick was now imbedded-was still intact. I fucked her ass wildly for several minutes, and throughout these initial strokes she took it all rather impassively, neither trying to escape me or help me, no sounds coming from her lips.
"I tried out every variety of stroke on her invaded ass. After all, I'd had little opportunity to practice fucking in my life, having avoided the regular sort and having few chances to perform this perverse alternative.
"I concentrated a full minute on a series of short, quick strokes with my cock head just within her sphincter. I pushed and pulled only an inch or so. I slipped out a couple of times, but quickly reinserted the bulging crown. I kept at this until I'd mastered it. The sensations were unearthly, for here the pressure on my cock was the greatest, and my cock head was the most sensitive part of my weapon.
"Next I plunged the cock all the way in her once again, causing the first audible response from her in some time-a ragged gasp-and worked on her hole with long, extremely slow strokes for three or four minutes, taking my time and observing the very different pleasures afforded by this particular method. Her tight walls grasped every square inch of my board-hard plunger on its easy-going treks in and out.
"I keep my strokes at approximately the same length next, but speeded them up, so that I was lunging in and out of her with the full six or seven inches available, but doing it like a jack-rabbit might.
"It was at this time that her mood changed. I could tell by the involuntary wiggling of her body, the way she started to shake her hips, and the way her hands clasped at the bedsheets first, and this was followed by proof from her lips-groans and whimperings that began so softly that I wasn't even sure I was hearing them, then growing so loud I began to worry about the neighbors again and wondered if I should put my hand back over her mouth. But I decided to just let her roar; it increased my pleasure to hear her passion well up from within her.
"She started now to buck her hips backward against each of my strokes inward. Every time my cock would go sliding toward her depths her butt would shoot back with a tormented twist. My balls slammed against her cunt with a wet slapping sound. They were aching for relief, aching to unload their store of semen into the girl's intestines.
"It was obvious that the virgin too was reaching the heights of sensual feeling; her body had taken control of her mind, and her mind was probably shocked into a stupor by the amount of pleasure, undreamed of pleasure, that its body could provide. She was twisting and writhing, trembling and crying.
" 'More, more . . . give me more of your cock!' she shouted. 'I've never felt anything like this. I don't want to do anything but . . . oh . . . fuck all my . . . uh . . . uh . . . life. Oh hit me, break my back, piss on me, fuck me, fuck me.'
"I rammed the cock in, with full strokes, using all my strength. Something snapped in the girl's head and she seemed to go completely berserk. She was a wild woman. Completely insane words came from her mouth. Her fingernails tore at her own flesh. Then it was there-she was coming.
"And so was I. As she gyrated with orgasm, I emptied my balls into her asshole, pumping with uncontrollable jerks. Finally, we both collapsed, spent, wasted, totally satisfied.
"We fucked again many times that night-I always used her asshole, of course. The next morning she was sore as hell, but no permanent damage had been done. I asked her to live with me and she accepted.
"We've done a lot of things since that first time. But the most memorable evening was the night I took her cherry from her-broke a virgin's hymen for the first time in my life. This is exactly what happened:
"It was a Saturday night and we'd really been smoking a lot of marijuana, having had some friends over-a teenage couple we'd come to know. Then we diverted ourselves as we often did -by watching dirty movies from my small but carefully selected 8mm collection.
"While we sat in the semi-dark and fondled each other idly, we watched this crazy movie I'd just obtained that afternoon through my source at work. The film had two stars-two girls in their early teens.
"The film began with the girls dressed in typical schoolgirl attire-one in a miniskirt and blouse outfit, the other in sweater and slacks. The one in the miniskirt was a cute, slim redheaded chick who was pretty tall for her thirteen or fourteen years-maybe five feet nine or ten. The other one was towered over by the redhead. She was about the same age, but she was a short, rather dumpy brunette with a huge set of tits and an ass just as prominent. What were obviously a couple of very fat nipples indented her sweater.
"The girls, according to the plot, were in the redhead's bedroom and were going to spend the night together. But if their parents had seen the way they kiss with open mouths when they'd shut the bedroom door, their parents would have never allowed it.
"As they kissed, it became immediately apparent that the redhead was the more dominant of the two teenagers. Her hands roamed the brunette's body with abandon while the brunette shyly held on. Then the slim redhead pushed the dumpy girl down onto her bed and ordered her to strip. (The film was silent but had subtitles.)
The girl obeyed quickly, taking off her slacks first, revealing a pair of hefty but succulent thighs and a thickly covered pubic mound for one so young. Then off came the sweater and a pair of big, floppy tits were in the open air, jiggling about before the redhead's hungry, appreciative eyes.
"Then the redhead did a strip-a much more tantalizing one. She was less clumsy than the brunette, and she took her time more. As the fat brunette watched the other girl's shoes come off, the mini-skirt slowly drop, the blouse being gradually unbuttoned, a brassiere be unhooked and then peeled off, then a sleek pair of netted hose rolled off a beautiful pair of legs, her eyes practically bugged out, her swarthy face got sweaty, and her big, red tongue came out of her mouth time and time again to lick her fat lips.
"She was very excited and so were Mary and I. We were clutching at each other, Mary with her left hand and me with my right, more and more crazily.
"The redhead suddenly leaped on the brunette and their bodies were plastered against each other while the teenage girls traded kisses. The redhead bent her head and teased the brunette's gigantic tits for a while. Then she went straight for her own pleasure-by planting her almost hairless cooz right on the brunette's face. The brunette lapped at the slim girl's slit as if she'd be killed if she didn't dig a hole right through the girl with her tongue. The redhead's head lolled back as ecstasy overcame her, her long, beautiful hair caressing her back.
"But the redhead didn't want to come that way. Instead, she again placed her body atop the fatter girls, this time planting her cunt right on the hairy brunette's. She began to rub the two twats together, getting more and more frantic with each second. The brunette soon caught on and grinded cooperatively. Soon both girls were panting and heaving with passion. They orgasmed with a flurry of insane motions.
"As the screen flashed into white and I got up to turn off the projector, it was damn hard to even move because of the hard on in my pants. When I got back to the couch I relieved that problem by letting my pants drop to the floor, causing my ready cock to spring up before thirteen-year-old Mary's fresh and beautiful face. She instantly sucked it in right up to the balls, the head going down her throat.
"But as I watched her expertly suck off my cock, I realized I was vaguely dissatisfied with the usual sex we had been going through. And an obsession that had recently been haunting me now again grabbed me in its clutches. I wanted to deflower Mary. I wanted to deflower a virgin.
"But I knew my cock would shrivel up inside her cunt-even at the thought of putting it in her cunt. I couldn't help it-it was a psychological liability I'd been raised with. So what was I to do?
"Letting my eyes idly gaze about the room, I came upon the solution. There it was, sitting in a bowl on the table. A banana!
"Pulling my now-stiff-as-possible-cock out of the girl's avid mouth with a loud slurp, I ran over to the table and grasped the fruit in my hand. Mary watched me come back with puzzled but curious eyes. I stood above her with the banana in one hand and looked into her eyes meaningfully. She understood what I was about to do and nodded silently.
"I crouched down to look directly into her cunt. She spread her legs for my convenience. Her cunt was open, pink, dripping. She was as hot as any woman can be. And she was a virgin. I held one end of the banana against the opening, letting just the point of it steal in. I looked up into her eyes again. She was ready, biting her lip. I looked back down and thrust a full half of the fat, yellow fruit into the virginal twat, "Mary cried out deep in her throat but managed to muffle most of the sound by keeping her lips shut tight. I ground the fruit in and out, in and out. Her walls held it snugly, but eventually loosened up some. Her breathing got harder and harder. I pushed the banana in further and further, until finally it was completely buried within her snatch. I fucked her hard with the long, fat fruit then until her hips were heaving and she came with a gurgling sound. Then I put my red, iron-hard cock in her mouth and immediately deposited spurt after spurt of come there.
"So I've deflowered my first virgin, even if it was in a weird way. Maybe some day I'll be able to do it the 'normal, healthy way,' but for now I'm fairly happy with the way I am. Thank goodness there's more than one way to skin a cat."
The neurotic pattern of behavior is so pronounced in Michael J. that the only way one can see for him to re-pattern his life-style and attitudes toward what is right and what is wrong in sexual behavior is to undergo extensive psychotherapy. Failure to do so, and soon, presents not only the potential of eventual psychosis but legal problems as well.
CHAPTER FOUR
Heidi, Poor Heidi
"What's the first thing that pops into your mind when somebody says the word 'virgin'? Well, I don't know about you, but when I hear the word I get a vision of a young, slender thing, with tits just budding and a cunt that's tight and narrow and totally unused.
"That was not the case with Heidi, hut she was a virgin.
"Heidi was forty-two years old when I met her and she weighed a hundred and ninety-four pounds. And she wasn't tall. But what she did have was forty-seven million dollars, left to her by some dingy old man she had nursed for about five years. Heidi was rich, fat, ugly and un-fucked. Just my cup of tea.
"You see, I have to explain something about myself. When I was eighteen, fresh out of high school, I really thought I was the greatest thing in the world. Mainly because everybody had always told me I was.
"I got the leading roles in all the school plays, I had dates and tosses in back seats with the best looking broads in school, I was begged by teachers not to play football because I might alter my face, I won the most-likely-to-succeed award, and besides all that, I wasn't dumb. At least I didn't think I was.
"So what does a guy who has all that going for him do? Go to Hollywood. What else? Why be a big fish in a little pond when you can be a big fish in a big pond?
"Christ, I didn't even make it to tadpole rating.
"Just as a comment off the top of my head, I'll say that nine out of every ten guys, throughout the whole fucking country, who did the same things I did back home, who look the same as I did, or at least as good, all head for Hollywood. Man, there are thousands of us. All waiting for that break and all of us hustling our asses off until that break comes.
"I know it's an old story, but it's still a current one. I know. I've been a victim of the system.
"So what does a guy do when he's in that condition? He can't go home and admit defeat. Hell, not after five or six years of trying and getting nowhere. And if you can't go home, and if you're not trained for anything except to charm and look good, what else do you do? You hustle, right? Literally.
"Besides, there's no way anybody's going to talk me into getting a job in a bank or in a factory. What if an agent calls when I'm assembling some fucking car or something?
"Two years ago, after a long time of picking up any kind of pissass job at night that would keep me in bread, booze and pot, I was contacted by a guy who ran an escort service. That's what it was called, anyway. What it really was was a fucking service.
"Let me tell you about the one 'escort' job I had. It was the final straw on my camel-shaped back. After this one I quit.
"My boss-who, incidentally, got fifty per cent of the fee without even getting his dick hard-got this call from this character out in San Fernando Valley. The guy says his wife's cousin was in town and they were throwing a little party for her. But the trouble was this broad didn't want to be the only unescorted female at the party. So the phone call.
"Charlie-he was the boss-called me. At seven goddamned o'clock in the morning. 'I got an easy one for you, Billy,' he says. 'You won't even have to take your cock out of your pants. Just show up at the party, be nice to Miss Charlotte and you'll be home by two o'clock. You can have a night to fuck what you want to fuck.'
"I accepted the assignment, thanking Charlie like the goddamned stupid ass I am, and then immediately called this little number I knew at the time named Connie.
"I told her I'd pick her up about two, we'd come to my place, fuck all night, then she could fix me breakfast and I'd have some bread to spend on her the next day. She accepted. Hell, was I looking forward to sticking my cock into Connie's neat little twat.
"Since it was a house party I was going to, I decked myself out in my 'casual' outfit. Sports-coat, open shirt, tight pants, boots. Shit, did I look great. And I was the only one at the party who did.
"Everybody else was old, fat and ugly. Christ, they were all a mess. And you should have seen my date. Miss Charlotte. She looked like a librarian who'd been locked in the stack too long. Skinny as a rail, sort of snaggly toothed, tiny little tits that hung down like they were tired and a bright red mouth, I guess from lipstick.
"The problem, though, was that Miss Charlotte didn't act like a librarian. She was the one who opened the door to let me in. 'So you're Billy,' she said in this cutsy kind of voice that instantly made me dislike her. But true to my dishonest self, I flashed my most winning smile and we hit it off like long lost friends.
"At first I was the hit of the party. Every broad there was coming on with me. And that sort of attention is nice, no matter who the bestowers are. Right?
"But Miss Charlotte was doing her best to ingratiate herself. She kept my drink filled, kept shoving little sandwiches in my mouth and once even ran her hand across my crotch. After which she smiled coyly and gave an appreciative wink.
"I didn't know the fucking party was a swap affair. I thought it'd be a typical boring Valley party. But these people were swingers, although a little old and a little ugly for it.
"So all this friendliness on Miss Charlotte's and all the other women's parts had a reason. They were interested in being my fuck later on in the evening.
"I didn't realize it at the time, but all this attention I was getting from the ladies wasn't having the best effect on the men at the party. In fact, the longer it continued the more pissed they were getting. They saw their night of wild, abandoned fucking ruined by this one creep-me -who to their thinking wasn't all that hot. And as the drinks flowed more freely, their discontent started to unite and the assholes got together and came up with a retaliatory plan.
"I wasn't aware of any of this.
"At eleven-thirty on the dot-these things have to go according to schedule in the Valley, right?-a film projector was brought out and the house lights dimmed. All the people took expectant places and stared at the blank screen waiting. And would you believe it, I got groped about fifteen times in that darkened room. Despite a general lack of any real interest on my part, my cock had to get and stay hard.
"The film starred an old buddy of mine and his wife, although they performed under assumed names. And it was a good film.
"Gloria, the girl in the film, has a beautiful body and one of the neatest little cunts in the world. Believe me, I know. And Stan is hung like a fucking mule. So with those two basic ingredients, it almost had to be a good film. Besides, both of them are freaks for performing in front of people.
"In fact, I was surprised they had made a film. I thought they made their livelihood fucking in front of people in person.
"It was a pretty straight fuck film. Just the two of them, doing it in almost every imaginable position, with a lot of camera emphasis on that big prick of Stan's pounding into Gloria's gorgeous little cunt.
"The film had its desired effect. The party, everybody, was turned on. Including me. I don't like to admit it, but good fuck films still turn me on.
"So by the time the film was over I was ready to fuck. And I figured if I closed my eyes, I could even fuck Miss Charlotte. But the way this group operated, it wasn't up to me to choose.
"As soon as the film was over, and the projector and screen put away, the whole group assembled on the floor in a circle. You should have heard the groans when the fat members tried to get their asses to floor level.
"But when they all made it, the hostess, a nifty two hundred pounder named Shirley, came around with a hatful of little pieces of white paper. She offered the hat to each woman, who each drew a piece of paper and then waited until the hat had been passed around.
"And then came the really exciting part. At the same time, all the women opened their pieces of paper together. Wow!
"Miss Charlotte did not get the piece of paper with the 'X' on it. Another broad, of equal appeal, got that honor. Her name, I think, was Laura and the beauty of the name did not fit the owner. Let's leave it at that.
"Laura got to her feet at the urgings of her friends, and after somebody started the record player, she started to strip. An old, beat-up Salome.
"I had to bite my lips to keep from laughing a couple of times during the dance-strip, mainly because it was obvious her attention was aimed at me. And I wasn't particularly interested in it, although my cock was still responding from the film. What I'm saying is that I was hard as a rock.
"When Laura got down to the skin, she got a big round of applause. She bowed and did a few more bumps and grinds. She was whacked on booze, just like everybody else was.
"And now came the piece de resistance. Laura stopped her fun and stood very quietly as the crowd hushed up. Then she started staring, and she started staring at me. I had a feeling what was coming.
"Slowly, in her most seductive way, she walked my way. When she was standing in front of me, with her cunt at just about eye-level, she reached down her hand to me. When I hesitated, I got a round of hisses, boos and cat-calls from the other gentlemen present. That made me resolve to perform as well as I could.
"And perform was what we did. She pulled me to my feet and led me to the center of the circle. And then, while I was standing there, desperately trying to think of the last decent looking pussy I'd fucked, Laura started to strip off my clothes. And she wasn't gentle about it. Christ, after she got my jacket off, she just threw the damned thing across the room. And my shirt she just about ripped off. I didn't like that part of the party.
"When she finally got my shorts off, there was a general expression of appreciation from the ladies-hell, that wasn't saying much; any normal guy would have been an Adonis in this group and a general stirring of hate from among the men. But what the fuck did I care what they thought!
"Laura had decided preferences, and what she seemed to especially like, I wasn't too fond of, especially not with her. But I figured they paid me, so I might as well cooperate. Luckily, my hard on was holding on.
"Laura put her hand on my head and gently indicated that she wanted me to get on my knees, which I did, And then with another gentle pull, she brought my face to her cunt.
"Now when it comes to pussy lapping, I'll admit to an amateur status. In fact, the only time I like to do it is when I'm really turned on, with some great looking chick who likes it. And I have to be damned near coming to do it even then.
"So you can imagine the trouble I had laying out my tongue on that old pussy in front of me. So I hesitated. And that's when what I refer to as 'the trouble' started. Some guy had come up behind me and while I was thinking about whether I should eat out Laura's box, he got behind me and shoved my face forward.
" 'What's the matter, hot-shot? Afraid of a pussy?' he asked in the drunk, slurred voice. He also sounded pissed as hell-at me.
"There wasn't much I could do. He had me in sort of a helpless position. And my face was already up against the hole. So what the hell. I stuck out my tongue and started lapping. I kept my eyes closed and pretended it was Connie I was working on.
"Laura immediately latched on to the action. Even in my kneeling position, she somehow managed to wrap her legs around my neck, and as I was still shoving my tongue up into her and licking around on her pussy lips and clit, she started to bend me backwards. So far, in fact, that eventually, despite not wanting to, I had to fall to my back on the floor. And would you believe it, even during the fall, Laura's pussy never once left my mouth.
"To tell you the truth, despite the lack of appeal in my partner, I was starting to enjoy the whole scene. I guess part of it was being the center of attention, and also the fact that I was performing in front of people. And let's face it, I just like to suck and fuck.
"Laura was sitting right on my face by this time, and her position was just right for allowing me to get right in there and eat her out good. I let my hand wander down to my cock and started working on that. But that didn't last long.
"Suddenly, there was another woman down in my cock area. She was naked, too, and she knelt down beside me and pushed my hand away. She bent over and sure enough she took my cock in her mouth. Christ, did that feel good. Hell, I didn't even care what she looked like. She was a damned good cocksucker.
"So far, so good, right? Everything was working out fine. And when a third gal joined the party, and while I was still licking on Laura, she pushed her girl friend off my cock and then settled down on it with her pussy, I was really enjoying my work.
"The gal on my cock had a fairly tight pussy and it felt damned good to have her fucking herself on me. Every time she got my cock stuck all the way up inside her, she'd tighten her cunt muscles and then pull off. That made the fuck feel like she was working on me with a tight, soft velvet glove. Great!
"And then, suddenly, our three-way fuck became a five-way fuck. Because two more of the ladies present came up to me and settled themselves on my finger. Can you believe this shit? I was being used by four broads at the same time. Hell, it was really turning me on, no matter what they looked like.
"We must have really made a picture, especially the two broads who were finger fucking themselves-on my fingers. All I did was hold out my arms and stick my middle fingers up in the air and let them fuck away.
"Laura, the one whose cunt I was licking on, was the first to have a go at a come. Hey, I like that line. 'Have a go at a come.'
"Anyway, she started to move her pussy around on my face like it was on fire. And I guess it was. Because all of a sudden I felt her whole body tighten up and she started to moan like I was hurting her. And I knew for sure that I wasn't doing that.
"Then she came. And she damned near broke my fucking neck when she did. She lurched and writhed and carried on like she was crazy. And damned if she didn't spurt a little juice. I could feel it and taste it.
"When she finally finished, she pulled off my face and for the first time I got a look around. It was almost funny seeing those broads moving their cunts around on my fingers and cock. And still sitting around in a circle were the rest of the women and all the men. They were staring at the scene like they'd been hypnotized.
"To tell you the truth, though, my arms were getting damned tired from being in that same position, so I decided to pull my fingers out of those two cunts and then give the lady who was on my cock the fucking of her life.
"You should have heard the protests when I pulled my fingers out of those two girls. And hell, my fingers aren't that big.
"By moving around a little, I gave a hint to the broad who was still riding my cock about what I was after. She seemed to go for the idea and within seconds, she was on her back on the floor, with me between her thighs, and with her legs wrapped around me. My God, did I fuck that pussy!
"You see, I thought when I'd shot off my load into the cunt I was fucking, I was through for the night. But that wasn't the case at all.
"I don't know what these people's bags were, but I was the only male at the party who worked. And shit, did I work.
"None of the other men did anything but beat off. I don't know if it was because they were pissed at me because I'd gotten all the attention, or if that was the general plan of the party.
"Whatever, after I'd shot off in that one gal and tried to get up off the floor, I suddenly had two big fat asses, belonging to guys, pushing me down again, and before I knew what was happening, I had another pussy sitting on my face and there was another face working on my cock.
"I'm pretty sex oriented, so it wasn't too long before my cock was ready to go again. And as soon as it was, another pussy started to fuck itself on it. While I was busy at the other end working on another fat, lumpy cunt with my mouth.
"I won't go into gory details, but I spent four hours fucking. And I must have shot at least five times. And that's hard to do when you don't particularly want to come even once.
"When they finally put the fifty bucks in my hand and shoved me out the door, my cock was so sore even the rubbing against my trousers was almost too much to take.
"I walked gingerly to the car, thinking all sorts of rotten thoughts about Charlie, my boss in the escort service. I was through with that asshole. He could just howl to the moon for his part of the fifty bucks I had in my pocket. Hell, I'd earned ten times that amount that night.
"I still had one problem, Connie. I was already two hours late. I knew she'd be pissed and to be honest, fucking, even Connie, was the farthest thing from my mind. In fact I don't think I could have gotten a hard on for anybody.
"I'm not the kind of guy to stand a girl up, so I drove over to Connie's house. I knew there'd be a big scene, and I really wasn't up to it, but I went anyway.
"I was short-term lucky and long-term fucked. Because there was a note on Connie's door that said, in effect, fuck off. And it was too bad. I really liked Connie.
"Are you getting the idea that I'm some sort of loser?"
There is a bit of commentary in Charles Winick and Paul M. Kinsie's book The Lively Commerce: Prostitution in the United States, referred to earlier, that would tend to cast some doubt on the general nature of the immediate subject's narration. The commentary referred to, states:
For many years there have been recurrent rumors of brothels with male inmates which had females clients. These rumors have never been substantiated. The "stud" who expects to earn a livelihood by finding women who will pay him for sexual access is likely to be as disappointed as was Joe Buck in the film Midnight Cowboy (1969). A curious version of the good-hearted prostitute, Joe Buck comes to New York from Houston expecting to get money from women for being a "stud." Instead, Joe is so innocent that he ends up paying the women while his vicious and corrupt clients exploit him. Like the prototypical literary prostitute, Joe keeps giving his body because he can only establish contact with other people by offering it. . . .
With the final wrap-up statement being:
. . . Like generations of literary prostitutes, Joe is sensitive and lives for the pleasure he can give others. Joe's difficulties in finding clients accurately reflect the near impossibility of a "stud" earning a livelihood from prostitution.
Unless, of course, he stumbles on the "female version of a red-necked farmer"-the subject's reference to the virgin of this case-who is in the possession of great wealth, and a great need, at the age of forty-two, to have her virginity terminated.
It should be noted right here that a great portion of the subject's narrative is open to the question of veracity. There is even a questionability in regard to Heidi. It seems extremely unlikely that a woman such as Heidi, considering the money that she has access to, had not been able to find a man to have sex with, particularly when one considers her age. Of course there is the possibility that Heidi had been, and as a matter-of-fact still is, a nonsexual entity even in her own mind. A heaviness such as hers, especially if it was congenital, so to speak, combined with an unattractiveness with which the subject of the case endows her in his narrative, and with more interest in financial than in sexual games, might naturally explain her long-held state of virginity.
Billy T-, in the first portion of his narrative, describes one of the assignments, if it can be called that, which he received from his "boss," the aim of which was to "take care of Miss Charlotte at a party." The orgy that the subject describes, and in which he participates-performs would be a better term-holds a certain aura of the freakiness of carnival sideshows.
Although there are other men present, Billy T. claims that he is "the only one who was doing any work." The other males apparently were content with looking on the sexual Laocoon that was displayed before them, with the women-probably their wives-playing the part of the snakes that strangle the Laocoon of classical myth.
The above analogy suits perfectly the situation in which Billy T-continuously finds himself.
Several times in the course of his narrative he claims being "a loser." Apparently, there is a bit of Joe Buck in him. Financially, he is not successful, although it is possible that his eventual contact with Heidi, the forty-two-year-old virgin of the case, shows at least some promise of pecuniary reward, although the certainty of such cannot be judged. His emotional involvement with Lee, who is the female counterpart in a game that is exactly what his own is, i.e., prostitution, cannot hold much promise for him. It is extremely difficult to see any sort of an ideal relationship resembling marriage developing between a male "stud" who sells his body to other women and a female prostitute who sells hers.
Citing Winnick and Kinsey's work again, we have some optimism expressed in regard to the above:
Occasionally a man marries a prostitute both because of her bad reputation and in spite of it. He may expect to discard the prudery with which sex is so frequently invested and feel comfortable in the presence of a woman of no pretenses. He may also prefer a woman who has been possessed by others. A man may marry a prostitute because his sexual relationship with her will have a minimum of romance. Such elements may have contributed to the marriage of Auguste Comte, who sired positivism and sociology. Comte married a young girl who had been a prostitute, although he was fully aware of her prenuptial career. Far from being a Bohemian, Comte was a fairly strict defender of moral views.
This, of course, only casts the very least modicum of light on the eventual potentialities of the relationship between Billy-, the "stud," and
Lee, the girl he appears to be in love with and who happens also to be a prostitute.
At the same time, however, one may take a relatively different attitude toward the professional prostitute, both male and female, the attitude that is taken by Eustace Chesser, in his work Strange Loves: The Human Aspects of Sexual Deviation. Therein, he writes:
. . . There is . . . distinctive motivation behind the choice of [prostitution] as a career. Something in every individual's make-up impels him or her to choose a way of life. One woman is content with being a mother, another has an ambition to be an actress or a writer or to play an active part in public affairs. We do not criticize them for wanting to be themselves. We do not ostracize those who are driven by a ruthless hunger for power or applause. We adopt a totally different attitude to a woman who uses her sex as a means of livelihood-unless she is so successful that she becomes the wife or mistress of a millionaire. Both are trading in sex, the only difference is the price they are able to exact.
Which suggests that each of the individuals involved in this case, from the subject to Lee to Heidi, is simply pursuing the best way he or she can the direction toward some modicum of happiness in his or her life, whether that happiness or pleasure be love as well as money-as appear to be the dual goals of Lee and the subject-or the long overdue loss of one's virginity, as is the case with pathetic Heidi.
"I never saw Connie again. Boy, when that gal says 'Fuck off,' she means it.
"For the next couple of years, nothing big happened. I made enough money to live off of, ninety per cent of it from my cock and about ten per cent from my good looks and talent.
"I even had an offer to make a fuck film once, but I turned it down. Hell, what if some day I got famous. I wouldn't want that film being dragged out for every gossip columnist in the world to see.
"And then I met Lee and believe it or not, we fell in love. I honest to god didn't think I'd ever be in love with anybody but myself, but I did fall in love with her. She's the most perfect, the most non-possessive woman I've ever met. The only problem is that we're both in the same boat.
"Lee was a female equivalent of me in high school. Best dates, best roles in shows, most-likely to-succeed bullshit. Same small town upbringing. And the same trip to Hollywood. And she makes about as much money as I do. Course, it's easier for a girl to pick up a few bucks in the business than it is for a man.
"Lee's done some modeling and has had some bit and extra roles in both television and film, but like me she's never done anything she wasn't proud of. At least in public. By that I mean she's never been a naked dancer, or appeared in fuck films (although she's had plenty of offers). And she makes her living more or less like I do. Hustling.
"I know it's not the most respectable way in the world to live, but at least it builds up your social consciousness.
"Now don't get me wrong. Lee has never been a one-night fuck for anybody. What she does is find some rich old gent who's willing to pay to have a beautiful young thing around. And hell, there are a million of those suckers around.
"But after we met and moved in together, we didn't know how to make a living. Show business didn't bring in near enough to live, and we didn't want to go on with the old ways. We loved each other too much.
"So the result was we both got jobs. Lee started to work in a boutique and I got a job as a waiter.
"That lasted six months, and we both were miserable. And then one night this old babe comes into the restaurant where I worked. She was with this young guy who obviously was there only because he was being paid to be.
"I guess it just came naturally to me, but I started to play up to the old bitch-and bitch she was-and pretty soon I started getting a response from her. To the point where after the two of them left I found a note rolled in my tip. The old gal had written down her telephone number and an invitation to call her.
"I took the note home and woke Lee up. I figured it was about time we sat down and had a talk about our lives. I was miserable working in that fucking restaurant, and Lee was miserable with what she was doing.
"Besides, our misery was taking the form of making us get mad at each other.
"So we sat for about three hours over coffee and talked. The result was we came up with a way to save both our love and our sanity. We would go back to our old lives.
"The only difference there'd be between the way we used to operate and the way we were going to operate now was that we'd insist with our 'friends' that we have a certain amount of independence. That meant staying in the apartment where we were-and living together-and having free time. A lot of it, hopefully.
"We also decided that we looked enough alike to pass ourselves off as brother and sister in case any sticky situations came up with our clients.
"The result was that I called the old dame I'd met in the restaurant and was invited over the next night for a drink.
"I fucked the old gal four times that night and made three hundred dollars. Not bad, eh? The old cock was still working.
"I didn't like the old gal, which makes it hard for a relationship to have any length-because people sense when you basically don't like them, no matter how hard you try to convey the opposite impression-so we didn't last too long. But as a parting gift the old gal gave me the telephone number of a friend of hers. And that's how I got to know Heidi.
"Remember Heidi? She's the one who started this whole thing.
"I called Heidi one Friday night and she damned near fainted. She was nervous as hell, I guess because she knew the reason for the call. She was close to her first fuck. That's reason for being nervous, right?
"I used my best come-hither voice and I could tell it was working. Heidi even sounded like she had goose bumps.
"The first thing Heidi did was invite me to dinner on November 12. This was not a good sign, considering the fact that I was calling her on September 6.
" 'That was funny,' I said. 'Now let's do it right. Invite me for dinner tomorrow night.'
"'Tomorrow night?' Heidi said in a voice that sounded like I had invited her to her own hanging. 'But that's so soon.'
"I laughed again. Shit, I was just a bundle of jollies.
"'What do you mean "so soon"? ' I asked. 'I thought you'd be anxious to meet me.'
" 'Oh, I am,' she said, her voice quivering again, 'but I did plan on losing some weight first.'
"Now wasn't that sweet of her?
" 'Nonsense,' I said. 'I'll love you just the way you are.' And the way I put the emphasis on 'love,' I'm sure her goose bumps got goose bumps.
" 'Well, if you remember that I'm not looking my best, then you certainly are welcome to come to dinner tomorrow night,' she said finally. She was getting more and more excited.
"I repeated my pledge of loving her no matter what she looked like, but if the truth be known, after meeting her, I wished I had given her the two months to lose some weight.
"I walked into this penthouse apartment over in Beverly Hills the next night and knew I had found a home. The place was gorgeous and just what I've always wanted to have for my own. And for Lee.
"A very discreet houseman, old enough to be even Heidi's father, let me in. He sat me down and fixed me a drink. Then he departed with the comment that Miss Heidi would be down in a few minutes.
"Down? Did that mean this apartment was two floors? Yep, that's what it meant. I learned that when I heard the elevator that was bringing Heidi into my life open in the hallway.
"And then Heidi walked into the room. Have you ever heard a description of a red-necked farmer? Well, Heidi was a female version of a redneck. She would have looked much more at home in a pair of overalls, with dirty nails and a potato sack over her arm than in the filmy outfit she was wearing.
"In fact, she looked like a tulle-covered tank.
" 'You don't like me,' was the first thing that came out of Heidi's mouth. It wasn't a whine; it was a statement.
"I guess I wasn't able to get the shocked look off my face fast enough.
" 'Au contraire,' I said. I like to throw a little French in when I'm dealing with rustics. 'It's just that you're not what I expected.'
" 'I knew you wouldn't like me,' she said.
" 'Au contraire,' I repeated and then mentally noted not to use that phrase again that evening. You can run things into the ground, you know. 'You told me things that intimated that you were unattractive. Nothing could have been farther from the truth.'
"Now that might not sound like much to you, but to somebody who's been called a pig and slob all her life, it's heaven.
" 'Of course,' I added. 'You were right. You could stand to lose a little weight.' Then I chuckled in my friendly, nose-wrinkly way. I added that last phrase because you don't want to gild the lily too much. We didn't want to make Heidi suspicious.
"That little qualification on my compliment seemed to break the ice. She thudded towards me, all smiles now.
" 'May I join you in a drink?' she asked, after we had grabbed hands and held them for a second or two. She had wrists like a Sumo wrestler.
" 'Of course,' I said. 'Then we can sit on the sofa together'-I only hoped the poor sofa could take the strain-'and enjoy some friendly talk.'
"I don't know if I'm giving my comments out verbatim. I guess they sound corny now, but they sure did work at the time.
"She got her drink-believe it or not, it was a Hamm's beer, in the can-and sat down next to me.
" 'I realize,' she said, 'that it's not considered socially correct to drink beer out of a can, but that's the way I like it.'
" 'I think it's charming,' I said, and let my hand brush down her arm. She did have goose bumps.
"Well, three Scotches for me and three beers for her later, we were still sitting on that couch. And I was enjoying our talk. I really did like Heidi. And sitting there talking it was easy to forget she looked like a truck driver.
"But then we got down to the nitty-gritty. 'I was hoping we might . . . do our thing,' she said, 'before we eat. I always get so sleepy after a meal.' She blushed fire engine red, which I liked. Not many people in Hollywood or Beverly Hills can blush anymore. "I nodded.
" 'And you're going to have to excuse me, but I really don't know how much you charge. And I want to do the right thing.'
"At that point I was willing to provide my services absolutely free. Here was the nicest person in the world, albeit a bit, let's say, overripe, and she was nervous about not knowing how much to give me for fucking her. But my thoughts of largess didn't last too long. I had to be practical. Nice or not, Heidi also had forty-seven million dollars and she'd miss five hundred like she'd miss an empty beer can.
"She gulped at the figure, but she didn't throw me out, or even protest. Hell, when you're her age, you should either spend a lot or get a lot for your cherry.
"She huffed to her feet and led the way to the bedroom. It was a magnificent place. Mostly Empire and Regency pieces, all of which had beer can circle stains on them. But they were still nice.
" 'What do we do ? ' Heidi asked from the site of the bed.
" 'You just relax and let me do the work,' I answered, and I thanked whatever powers that were for having Lee to think about during this operation.
"I peeled off the top of her gown and two of the most gigantic tits I've ever seen in my life plopped out. Each, and I'm not kidding, must have weighed eighty pounds. I don't know how the poor thing could breathe.
"And they were hard. Hard as marble. I put my hand on one of them and damned near bruised my palm.
"Apparently, though, despite being hard they were also sensitive, because Heidi thoroughly enjoyed having them worked on. She sighed and closed her eyes and I could see her relaxing.
"I put a second hand on a second tit. They felt like basketballs. And then I lowered my mouth and started to suck on one of her nipples.
"Surprisingly, that really turned me on, but in a way entirely different than other times. It was as though I was back at my mother's breast, sucking milk out of her. And I found when I got my face right up there that Heidi was tremendously warm. Almost hot, and I don't mean sexually.
"I got her stripped down-I won't describe her -and then told her to put her hand on my cock.
"She must have thought it was made of steel, because she got me in a grip that almost had me hopping around the room in pain. 'Not so hard,' I managed to squeak, and gratefully she released some of the pressure.
"Since I realized she didn't know her own strength, I decided to do as I had told her: I'd do all the work.
"I got her up on the bed and stretched out. Her belly went down a little when she was stretched out on her back. That fact made her look like a skinny hippo.
"As I climbed up into that gigantic bed, I kept trying to bring Lee to mind. But I was having a hard time. I mean, when I slipped my cock into Lee's pussy, it was like dipping it in warm molasses. Tight, warm molasses. And Lee was thin. And tanned. Heidi was fat. And red.
"In fact, for the first time in my life, I couldn't get a hard on when I needed one.
" 'I was right,' Heidi said when she saw my problem. 'You don't like me.'
" 'It's not that at all,' I said. 'It's just that I've never fucked a virgin before.'
"I should not have used the word 'fuck.' Heidi stiffened like a giant oak and from the look she threw me, I could tell she didn't like vulgarity. But she didn't say anything.
" 'If you help,' I said to her, 'it'll be all right.'
"She asked what she should do and I told her to put her hand around it, gently, and jack it off. Only I didn't use the word 'jack.'
"I stretched out on the bed, closed my eyes and let her do what I'd told her to.
" 'Your thing sure is pretty,' she said after a few jerks. 'You mind if I put my mouth on it?'
"Her request sort of threw me for a loop, but I nodded my head. Hell, yes, I love to get sucked. But I'd been afraid that if I asked for that I'd be moving too fast.
" 'This is the only kind of sex I've ever had,' Heidi admitted before lowering her mouth on my cock. 'I used to put my mouth on the thing of this blind kid that lived in the neighborhood. A lot of years ago. In my home town.'
"And then she started to suck, and she wasn't bad. I'd had a lot worse. In fact, Lee was worse. But in truth, Lee is one of the worst cock-suckers I'd ever met in my life.
"Zingo! In no time at all, my cock was hard as a rock. And I was ready to fuck. And Heidi was, too.
" 'Could we make the first one fast?' she asked. 'I heard it hurts.'
"As I was climbing up on top of her, I couldn't help smiling. And the reason I was finding the whole thing so much fun was her 'hurt' comment. It reminded me of that elephant and flea story. But you don't want to hear that, do you? Nah, it's just sex, sex, sex with you guys.
"Heidi still had her hymen and it had the consistency of a rubber pad. Man, I can't tell you how many times I shoved and poked at that damned thing, and it still wouldn't give. Finally, out of desperation, I decided to risk life and limb (the most important one), and I reared back and plunged into her.
"I finally made it, but not without badly bruising my old money maker. In fact, it was sore for three weeks. But it did get in. And Heidi had her first fuck.
"The only trouble was when her cherry broke, she let out such a howl and bucked so hard that I landed on the floor. And as I was lying there, I looked down at my cock. It was still hard but it was covered with blood, and for a second or two I had this terrible feeling that it was my blood, not Heidi's.
"I felt around on my prick a couple of times and finally realized that everything, although bruised, was intact. Then Heidi looked down at me over the side of the bed. 'Is that it?' she asked.
"I hopped up on the bed and shoved it into her again. She didn't like it at all at first, but she finally got around to huffing and puffing a little in excitement.
"It took me forty-five minutes to get that woman to come off. By that time sweat was streaming down my sides and my prick was so sore I thought I'd have to trade it in.
"Shit, I was earning that five hundred!
"The end result of all this was that I'd made a friend for life. And a friend who was nice and who had forty-seven million dollars. Not bad for a night's work.
"In fact, we got together every other night for about a month. I was making a bundle, although I lowered my rates a whole lot after that first night.
"We even got to the point in our friendship of my telling her about Lee. Did she get upset? No, not Heidi. She thought it was wonderful.
"In fact, she even met and became good friends with Lee, but it wasn't until after we'd stopped fucking. And now I'll mention how that came about. I mean the 'no fucking' part of our relationship, which is really the point of this whole story.
"One night Heidi looked at me and said, 'You'd rather be with Lee, wouldn't you?' I couldn't lie to her so I admitted it.
" 'Okay then,' she said. 'Our relationship's over.' That's all she seemed willing to say, so I got up and got dressed. She still didn't say anything, so I left the room, after kissing her on the cheek, and headed for the front door.
"I had my hand on the door knob when she called me. 'Hey,' she said, 'I'm investing a little money in a film that has a role in it for a guy who's good looking and who can act. Think you could handle it?'
"I shook my head up and down fast and then I literally ran over to her and gave her the best and most sincere kiss I'd ever given her.
"She handed me a card. 'Be there at nine tomorrow,' she said. And then she pushed me out the door. See, I'm no loser."
Only time will tell where the subject's total involvement in the business of prostitution will lead him as far as his emotional life is concerned. It is extremely doubtful that he will consider any other kind of a profession, particularly since he feels that he can, at times, perform "a useful service" beyond the simple act of sexual performance, "a useful service" such as the one he had given the no-longer virgin, Heidi.
CHAPTER FIVE
Rover and Quiff
"To be perfectly honest, I have to admit that I'm slightly embarrassed to confess that I was thirty-eight before I lost my virginity. With all the sexual promiscuity going on nowadays you'll probably think that a middle-aged woman who waits until her wedding night for her first real taste of sex is some sort of relic.
"Well, maybe I am a bit freakish, and maybe I did wait too long and hunger too many lonely nights for something, anything, to ease the sexual longing in my loins. I can't begin to describe the guilt I felt every time I was forced to yield to my needs and masturbate. And when you're a middle-aged virgin-an old maid, they call you-and you begin batting your eyelashes and behaving childishly to entice men to make sexual advances, that isn't the best for your guilt pangs either.
"But it was all worth it-the long nights of abstinence and praying and hoping for the male of my dreams who would love me and take me to the sexual heights. Yes, I'll be happy to tell you about it-proud to-and I won't spare any of the emotion I felt or descriptive details. Theodore -'Teddy' I call him-proved to be a lover of consummate skill. He took me to sexual heaven and introduced me to physical acts I'd always thought would be repugnant to me. But nothing he did-no animal, beautiful way he touched me or tasted me-offended me. He rendered me helpless and I was his slave, doing everything he asked of me in bed.
"Because this is strictly confidential, I'll tell you everything. It is absolutely privileged information? Good. Then it's agreed . . . I'll tell you exactly how it was with Teddy and me. I just hope I don't get carried away, you know, and wax poetic. It was so beautiful the way I became putty in Teddy's hands that wedding night.
"First, however, I must say that I truly understand the meaning of total sexual release. Before my wedding night I didn't. Oh, I thought I did. But I really didn't. I'd read countless intimate accounts of men and women fornicating, and so I just assumed I knew all there was to know. What a naive, innocent child I was before that night! Somehow I assumed that the meaningless encounters between men and women meeting in bars and the like, then stumbling to some motel for their sexual intercourse, was the most I might eventually look forward to. But now I know better. Oh, do I!
"Now I have tasted the very essence of sexual fulfillment and I know what a male and female lying naked in bed together can create! Small wonder there's a desperate searching and, finally, a wild and frantic frenzy as male and female strive for the ultimate pleasure, the exquisite ecstasy of sexual completion.
"It was worth waiting for. There I was, lying unashamed on my back, my legs spread wide while my loving husband took what was rightfully his and gave me more pleasure than any woman could hope for. I recall the sounds arising from my throat, little hysterical murmurs mewing to a roar, a sort of slow crescendo to a cymbal crash. There I lay, making little staccato-like breath-whines and thrusting like a happy female animal in heat until I could feel it beginning, rising crazily all through my body. 'Ahhhhh,' I called out to Teddy. 'Ummm, the very best there is!' Orgasm-delicious orgasm-was at last mine, and I loved the man who gave it to me more than I can possibly express in words.
"Even that night as we hurtled on, whimpering, commanding, pleading in tones that hinted of finality, there was a primal knowing, deep down, that the sex act between us would have to be repeated and repeated and repeated again that same night.
"Yes, it was then that I understood the entire male, female thing. Just as naturally as rivers and clouds form, then dissipate and form once again, so too must lovers part, then reunite. I guess I sought a permanency-a temporary one at least -that's not a part of nature's way. And so we, as all lovers must, discovered that we were simultaneously cursed and blessed to thirst and drink from the well of sexual delight again and again.
"There would be no other days for other lovers -nature's whims. No, I'd committed myself to Teddy, and soon there came another flirtatious smile, the fluttering of my lashes, his bold male response, and we were hurtling once again in anxious lust toward the end.
"But why do I refer to our orgasms as the end ? Is there an end to hunger, desire, need, loneliness, despair, fear, anger, frustration? Of course not. At any rate, all was soothed and sated in the ultimate NOW moments we shared-lost in each tumultuous thrusting that had begun when we'd first met with a word, a gesture, a hint, a sigh, then grew to gentle touching, fond caressing, gentle stroking.
"Courtship's pleasant games were something else! We held hands in G-rated movies, and often kissed in the park near my cottage. I guess a park's as good a place as any to plan a marriage between a widower and an old maid. Teddy was so thoughtful. He was afraid of shocking me, and so he proceeded cautiously and gently. Yes, we spoke of our wedding night and plotted the sexual act that lovers always think will soothe the simmering in their loins. But now we know the love act is something that cries out to be repeated. It outlives all the satiations along the way.
"Isn't it the damnedest thing a species ever saw, the way the urge keeps coming back? Sometimes that first night, while in the throes of surging passion, we'd vow to love again, without pause, only to lie all spent in panting bliss, perspiring and wondering how the thought was ever born. Then there the urge would come again-like some nagging tune-and we'd begin the rhythm of the Race once more. "I love you!" we'd scream at each other, locked tightly together, and off we'd go again!
"We did it on the floor, the little, partly-enclosed terrace of the hotel room, the bed. Everyplace seemed the right place for lovers entwined and on an erotic voyage. After all, who's to say a bed is best? Love fever dictates the where and when, correct? The main thing was, we were two warm bodies pressing together, seeking fulfillment, consummation, completion. Oh, the luxury of the marriage bed-no guilt, and the pillows, sheets, blankets in disarray! Yes, I'm convinced the marriage bed's the best place for lovers the world over to consummate their act. The cool sheets grew warm, our hearts pounded. It was a perfect clasping place!
"I learned to say fuck-actually yell it out loud and clear-and I learned to kiss and lick my husband's organ. As each final moment approached, there was a total suspension of time. Tingle-throbs and floating sensations took over my body. Tension, release. Tension, release. Fucking, fucking. The very rhythm of life itself!
"I felt my husband's breath in my ear, heard the hunger in his voice as he held me close, closer, tighter. 'I hear you, lover,' I'd call out to him. 'Fuck me!' And then he'd tell me other things to say to please him. Oh, we were together and he covered my body with kisses-kisses everywhere. My breasts, between my legs, everywhere a female longs to be kissed since the dawn of her being. Teddy kissed my titties and tongued the nerve center between my legs. 'Please let it last!' I cried out to him. 'Make it last! Make it last forever! There is no time but NOW. Just NOW. Oh, hold me tight and make it last forever, Teddy. Make it last all night. Forever! Forever!'
"Well, of course it couldn't last forever. We all know that. But I wanted it to. Oh, the mating moment-the target for lovers everywhere . . . I wanted it to last forever. Each of our passion storms created a gale to dwarf even The Great Flood. I lay limp, fondling him to still another erection after each loving.
"In between times we had things sent up to our room-silly things like hot fudge sundaes and sweet liqueurs. But sometimes we were practical, and there was steak, or caviar, or lobster. And during these periods of rest we played all the lovers' games-giggling, sparring, teasing, feigning anger, pouting, pleading. I remember thinking once while eating shrimp that all the classic struggles for power and wealth seemed puny beside the power of love and sex. Ummm, the most serene reward-his stout organ that he called a 'hard on' and my female harbor for his hard on that he called my 'pussy.'
"We kept on that way, touching and sighing and delighting in all the preliminaries. They are important. Isn't it beautiful that the joy of orgasm-'coming' Teddy calls it-takes into account the wonder of anticipation? Yes, in a way, the anxious waiting and the thunderous climax are all one. They're part of a cycle, the goal-getting and the goal-seeking inextricably bound together. Yes, a storm wouldn't belittle the first gentle rustle of wind in the leaves. Never. And neither could Orgasm, big and marvelous as it is, sneer at the fondling of testicles and breasts . . . the preliminaries.
"But there I go again, trying to be a teacher of English literature instead of staying with my story. Please forgive me? I guess it's a lingering trace of the Old Maid in me!
"Still, it is true, isn't it? I mean, that beautiful instant, Orgasm, seems to be on intimate terms with all its necessary stages. It's like a symphony with an introduction, a finale, and all the waiting, anxious intricate movements in between. The 'carnal blast off wouldn't be the fulfilling thing it is without the harmony of the tease, the whispered 'please.' That beautiful, final instant is part of a one-thing that includes all that precedes its final chord. The delicious, final 'Ahhhh' then is only an extension of all the earlier male and female fumbling. It's the disappointment, the hoping, the hearts pounding like drums within the secrecy of the chest, the will-he or won't he? -the postponed rendezvous, all of it. Oh, that beautiful thing, Orgasm, may not give lovers all they think they want, but it gives them all they need-all their nerve ends can stand! The trick, I found, is to let old man Orgasm have his way and yield totally, without reserve, to his all-knowing ecstatic thrill. 'Ummmmm. . . . " Do you know what I mean? Of course you do. I'm the one who is the newcomer to this sex business. I seem to keep forgetting that.
"But of course we didn't analyze the why or how we'd reached each feverish point in time-Teddy and I-when every fiber of our bodies strained to seize every precious drop of pleasure from the ultimate instant. How could we? And why retrace a lust-filled labyrinth or tamper with a recipe devised by gods? Besides, we'd been alone enough and now we were together!
"It was as though we'd been drugged by some -some potion too awesome to ponder, the way we'd hurtle on in our lovemaking to our own crazy rhythm. It was a tempo of our own invention. Rubato or strict, it was anything we wanted it to be. No, we needed no aphrodisiac. We were the Tijuana Brass without a trumpet . . . Mozart to a rock beat. Our cries of love filled the room and you could hear The Hallelujah Chorus resounding from the walls. 'Fuck me, Teddy!' I'd call out to him, and he'd plunge himself deeper and deeper inside of me.
"And no two fucks were alike. Each sex culmination was distinctly different. Comparing them would be as futile as comparing the luster of one jewel with another. Each had its highlights, its subtle nuances, its special grunts and groans. It could never be duplicated again. I thrashed my torso to his command, engulfing his 'hard on' within my 'pussy,' and my head kept tossing from side to side as I begged him to make it last; make it last forever. And, you know, sometimes he almost did! All that stored lust and desire in our bodies, damned up for so long, just kept pouring forth. Yes, Orgasm is the most beautiful of nature's hungers. It's-it's mindless passion, the ultimate communication, the perfect understanding between two craving human beings.
"I'm sorry. I know I'm getting on the pseudo-poetic side, a bit too precious, but I'll finish in a moment and-and give you a-a more clinical description of all that took place that wedding night. I promise. But what I'm trying to say is, that beautiful instant, Orgasm, is no fad affliction, no puzzling virus with the symptoms of a fit. And anybody who would dare diagnose its wonderous thunder with-with some scientific gadget is-is a madman. I know about those experiments they've conducted on people copulating, but the Ultimate Instant is-is a timeless span of ecstasy. It's flesh and blood delirium.
"No, Teddy and I weren't strangers in paradise. We were strangers in paradox! The real irony was, we realized on that wedding night that we'd never been strangers at all. Nor could we have been more worshipful and childlike at the surging in our loins. We felt a beautiful reverence for that all-familiar feeling that somehow stays forever new. 'Coming,' I mean. There it was, so many times, just a heartbeat away-a sigh, a thrust, and finally completion.
"Well, enough of that schoolroom kind of talk. Now that I'm a happily married woman I should at least be able to communicate like an ordinary woman, right? Right. You see, I get carried away with my thoughts sometimes because I spent so many lonely nights in my cottage with my books. Now all that's behind me. Let me see, what really, objectively happened on our wedding night.
"Yes, first off we drank champagne. Oodles of it. And then everybody threw rice at us as we climbed into Teddy's black Lincoln Continental. Teddy's very successful, you see. He's in real estate and deals in commercial properties. Still, while he's a business man through and through, he's extremely sensitive and a most adept lover, as I've tried to get across. His first wife-she died of cancer-must have been a veritable whore in bed because she obviously permitted everything. I suppose I should be grateful for that, even though I do feel a trifle jealous of her, because I suppose he wouldn't have been so bold and animalistic in bed if it hadn't been for her.
Yes, that's why Teddy was perfect for me. He'd had a tigress, sexually, for a first wife, and then after all those years of being a widower he developed a deep sexual hunger which he fortunately saved for me.
"Oh, my . . . I'm so out of breath . . . I've been talking a mile a minute, haven't I? I must pause. Do you suppose I could have a drink of water? Thank you. There . . . that's better. Now, let me see. I do so want to get to the heart of all this, so that you'll truly comprehend the real Teddy and me.
"As you can see, I'm still most attractive. It's an oddity that a woman of my beauty would not have fallen prey to a male many years ago. Sexually, I mean. But you see, I've always been such a tweedy, proper little thing. My parents made me that way. 'Be proper,' they'd caution, 'and you must be cautious of boys. Letting them touch you in your female places can result in disease and pregnancy, Genevieve.'
" 'Yes, mother . . . Yes, papa,' I'd promise. But I wasn't all that proper. No, not for an instant. Even as a young girl I indulged in sex play, marveling at the erections of New England boys. The male organ is truly a fascinating thing, swelling up and protruding the way it does, and I relished fondling the firm, hot pokers with my eager hands. For years I've masturbated males, frequently to completion, so that their sticky love fluid spewed forth and there I was left trying to devise ways to remove semen from my porous, tweedy outfits. And if you don't think that's a problem!
"Well, needless to say, I survived puberty and adolescence without detection from my puritanical parents, pregnancy, disease, loss of virginity et cetera, et cetera. Neither, with the exception of those masturbatory experiences, did I have much fun! Unless, of course, you consider scouring sperm-soaked tweed with cleaning fluid erotic. Oh, yes-once a boy did put his mouth on my vagina, but I was so guilt-ridden I could not fully relax and enjoy the feeling of his darting, wet tongue there. I was just terribly tense and fearful that he would then wish to probe my vagina with his penis.
"On and on it went that way throughout the years. I, fending off eager males from inserting their organs in my vagina, they, never asking me out on dates again. There was one lesbian who became very friendly with me, but somehow girls are just not my cup of tea. I already have a vagina and a set of breasts, don't I ? What would I want with another vagina or another pair of breasts. After all, I can fondle my own, can't I? She was a charming girl, though, really. It's a pity.
"Well, so you can see that university life for me was really rather drab. I stayed with my books, earning scholastic honor after scholastic honor-retaining my own honor, too, damn it!
"But I assure you I was not frigid. It was at this time that I became a connoiseur of the male organ. Without their detection, I could steal a glimpse of a limp male organ hanging down a pant leg quick as you please! The size didn't matter, and they never suspected that I was appraising their genitals. Professors at school, janitors, football players, any and all of them-they were no match for my sharp eye. Yes, I knew who had what size wise, and then at night I would lie in my bed after studying and fantasize. I loved to imagine their male organs swollen and erect and ejaculating. There, with my secret thoughts, I would lie warm and snuggling the pillow beneath the covers as I manipulated my breasts and lubricating vagina. I was not a chronic masturbator, you understand, but I did indulge myself two or three times each week. For some reason I have never tried a vibrator. Women inform me it is truly a marvelous instrument for masturbation, but it somehow seems too mechanical. Besides, I suppose I was fearful of becoming addicted to it.
"Teddy . . . Teddy . . . my Teddy. Yes, he's all I need now, and definitely worth waiting for. Soo, you can see that my early life was quite uneventful, sexually. And then, finally, there came that day-that landmark of a day-at The F-
School. F-is one of those truly posh schools for daughters of wealthy parents who have not distinguished themselves scholastically. That's putting it mildly. Many of F-'s female students are downright dull! F-, home of New
England's dullest!
"Well, F-had become an anachronism. Fewer students had been enrolling for some time and so it was decided to sell its spacious campus. Upon hearing of this decision I went into a veritable coma of depression. The rolling landscape, the thousands of birch trees, everything that represented F-had become as much a part of me as my own seldom touched vagina. Upon first hearing of the decision to close down F-I reacted in a most unusual manner. I began masturbating three and four times a day-between classes in the ladies' room, in the privacy of quarters, sometimes in one of the more secluded areas of the campus on one of the wood benches. I was beside myself, frustrated, insecure. Where was I to go? I was a most competent professor, attractive if unmarried, but now everything seemed to be going absolutely to hell.
"And then, just in the nick of time, came Teddy! Teddy was introduced to me in Larksbury Hall by our administrator, Miss D--.
" 'Genevieve,' Miss D-'s high-pitched voice squeaked, 'this is Mister Theodore K-' Mister
K-is in real estate. He is showing the F campus to prospective buyers. You'll be seeing him from time to time.'
"Even before Theodore winked at me-actually winked as he took my extended hand in both of his own strong mitts-I had stolen a glimpse of his male organ trailing down his leg. It was a splendid ample penis, I judged. And then I, Genevieve S-, did something I had not done in thirty-eight years! I can only explain my bold action by my near-hysterical state of mind as a result of F-being up for sale. Smiling, muttering the usual banalities of introduction, I firmly implanted my middle finger in Mister K-'s palm and wiggled it back and forth in the universal signal of sexual invitation.
"Teddy's jaw went slack in amazed response, but he managed to mutter that he was pleased to meet me. Strange, but I felt absolutely relieved of all the tension that had been plaguing me for so long. Suddenly the catastrophe of F being sold, the anxiety regarding my future employment, everything, left me. My bold maneuver had caught both of us by surprise and I was miraculously a free woman! I expected nothing to come from the mere wiggle of a finger in a man's palm-for all I knew Theodore K-was a married man-but my defiance of conventions was just what the doctor had called for, as they say. Expecting nothing as a result of tickling Teddy's palm-I wouldn't have cared if anything outrageous had resulted-I departed, nearly skipping with joy as I made my way past W-Hall to the library. . . . "
Genevieve Kof this case is a classic example of the "prim and proper" spinster librarian -except that the subject of this case is a professor of literature-who, having suppressed her normal sexual impulses to engage in intercourse, rechannels them toward intellectual pursuits without, however, as is usually the case, abandoning the idea of sexuality altogether. As a matter-of-fact, as the subject's narrative indicates, the prim and proper intellectuality of Genevieve
K-, prior to the time of her marriage to
Theodore, was little more than veneer coating a life of extremely active sexual imagination and surreptitious activity that included practically everything in the foreplay stage of such activity and terminated only just short of coitus.
That there was an almost continuous inner conflict and a state of anxiety in the subject is apparent from the intensity of her narrative tone. Of course, the anxiety that is present at the time of the narration is of a different nature from her premarital anxieties. Whereas, prior to her marriage, her anxieties revolved around the conflict between what she had been taught to believe within the context of Judeo-Christian ethics and what she felt in the way of almost overpowering sexual urges, as the balance of her narrative will show, her present anxieties revolve around the fact that her husband Theodore appears to "no longer want her."
What is presented here is, in fact, a classic example of the dangers of sublimation or repression of natural sexual instincts. On the subject of repression, Benjamin B. Wolman, in his Call No Man Normal, writes:
The main defense mechanism is repression. Repression is an unconscious exclusion from the consciousness of objectionable impulses, memories, and ideas. The ego, as it were, pushes the objectionable material down into the unconscious and acts as if the objectionable material were nonexistent.
The ego uses its energy to maintain the repressed material forever (anticathexes). Whenever a repressed wish or idea comes close to the surface and attempts to re-enter consciousness, the ego's main defense mechanism is applied in order to push the undesirable wish back into the unconscious. Thus by applying powerful anticathexes and by keeping close surveillance over the repressed material the ego prevents the unconscious from becoming conscious. This preventive action, called resistance, is merely a continuation of repression.
What happens when the ego is either suddenly unable to suppress the objectionable material into the unconscious? Unless there is a gradual transition from total suppression to a full and conscious acceptance of objectionable material as no longer being objectionable, then the end result could be compared to a rapid and almost unstoppable boil-over, and in the case where the object of suppression was some desired form of sexual activity, the boil-over is traumatically emotional and sexual. Suppressed sexuality becomes hypersexuality and often threatens to approach the condition of nymphomania, with or without resultant frigidity.
As Genevieve K-draws her narrative to a close, her narration begins to suggest a tone of psychotic disturbance. There is almost a multiple schizoid personality emerging: the professor, the child, the woman, and the deprived wife panicked at her deprivation.
The question of "normal" frequency of intercourse that is raised by the subject is one that deserves comment. Eustace Chesser, in his earlier cited work Strange Loves, has this to say on the subject:
Frequency of intercourse has been the subject of a number of surveys. Interviews with 526 married couples by Dickinson showed that in the United States the most common frequency was two to three times per week. . . . Kinsey found that four acts per week were common up to the age of twenty; at thirty the rate fell to three, and at forty to twice a week. Men of sixty had an average of less than once per week.
That the frequency of intercourse desired by the subject of this case far exceeded the highest frequency on record, and since obviously her husband's abilities to keep up with her were unsuccessful, the trauma, the anxiety, that seized the subject when one considers the extent of her previous repression are psychologically clear. And what, of course, further complicates the nature of her emotional instability and adds to the schizoid tendencies that she is manifesting, is the age at which the events of her life are befalling her. One could almost be assured that the reason she brings up "male menopause" is because she is into her own. Here, again, it is the subject's awareness, or apparent unawareness, of what menopause is-as Harold T. Hyman, in his Complete Home Medical Encyclopedia, says: It is nothing more than a normal termination of reproductive capacities-that adds another specter to the several such shadows of anxiety that suddenly invade her mind.
There is still another potential reason for Genevieve's almost hysterical reaction to her husband's abandoning her. It might be simply identified as an unfulfilled maternal instinct.
"It was a little after seven that evening, right after supper, that Theodore K-telephoned me for a date the following evening. He made no reference to my unusual behavior of that afternoon and conducted himself in a most gentlemanly manner. So I accented. We would dine in the village, he said, and possibly attend the summer stock production of As You Like It. I accepted, delighted at the casualness of his invitation. I am not particularly fond of As You Like It (I've seen it possibly twenty times!) and his vagueness regarding our date delighted me. Who could predict the outcome? I reasoned. Possibly we would even end up in his magnificent black Lincoln Continental, parked in some secluded spot among the birches and kissing and hugging! Perhaps even his splendid penis that I had observed beneath that gabardine pant leg would rise as he breathed obscenities in my ear and I would flip it out and stroke its strength and length and width between my hands.
"I resolved not to wear tweed just in case this occurred. There would be no more semen on tweed for me! Yes, I know I was over-reacting and anticipating, but honestly I would have permitted
Theodore Kto take me 'all the way' in the back seat of his Lincoln that night if he had insisted. This was one virgin who was ready to play the role of hussy for a change.
"Of course, Teddy did not whip out his penis, nor did he even suggest such a thing. Men never did behave that way when I'd resolved to let them. Instead, he made the most scintillating conversation over supper and impressed me thoroughly with his knowledge of the world of commerce. I was delighted to learn that he was a widower and he was satisfied that my finger against his palm was a gesture of genuine sexual need, even though I was a lady and not promiscuous. We did, it turned out, park in his Lincoln Continental and I did masturbate his firm, strong penis while he brought me to completion with his skilled and considerate fingers against my clitoris.
"That's as far as it was to go, however, until our perfect wedding night to which I've already alluded. Teddy insisted that my virginity remain intact until that night and, frankly, that is precisely what I yearned to hear from his own lips. Of course, Teddy did not propose marriage that first night. No, that came later. There were to be many sessions of mutual masturbation together before I consented to take the name of Mrs. Theodore K--.
"Yes, there were sessions of exquisite breast and vagina stroking, along with manipulation of his stout member, to rival the most torrid of bacchanalian episodes in Roman and Greek history. And not a drop of sperm tarnished my tweeds. I wore less conservative attire on our dates and always carried a hanky to catch his drippings. There were sexual encounters, as I said, in his automobile, and later there came delicious orgasms in Teddy's rambling country home. Also, a time or two, when chances of detection were slim, we sneaked into my own cottage to ease the pressure of our loins.
"It was after several months of meeting on the sly, as it were, that Teddy asked me to become his wife. I told Teddy I would give the matter serious consideration and, in fact, telephoned him some two hours later from my cottage. 'Yes, Teddy,' I told him, 'yes, I will proudly bear the name of K--. ' And it was decided immediately that, whether F campus was sold or not, Teddy and I would be married at the close of that semester. I would terminate my career as a teacher and live with Teddy in his splendid house, devoting my time exclusively to Teddy's needs and whatever cultural matters I might care to indulge in my daily living.
"Well, I needn't tell you that the anticipation became nearly unbearable nor that our lovemaking sessions-always short of actual intercourse -became savage and lustful things. Yes, I shall never forget those next few months. I cannot tell you how many times I beseeched Teddy to break his vow that I would remain chaste until after the wedding ceremony. But Teddy held fast to his promise and masturbation it was!
"But I did tell you that I would become more clinical in my description of our wedding night, didn't I ? Yes, forgive my digression, but I wanted you to appreciate and understand our rather unconventional courtship. Well, finally the night arrived. I had bade farewell to F-forever and, as I told you, following the small but perfect ceremony, those attending showered us with rice as we raced for Teddy's Lincoln Continental. After what seemed an eternity we arrived at the hotel. It had been our plan to spend that first night in the hotel in Boston before fleeing to Teddy's house for two weeks of recluse-like honeymooning, and so we kept to the plan.
"We did not leave the hotel, however, for four days. In fact, we rarely left the bed. It is now that I will become less general in describing the physical part of our relationship. After all, I understand that you research people are not interested in some abstract and poetic lot of gibberish from an old maid regarding her wedding night. Therefore, in the interest of your research, I shall abandon my inclination to remain tight-lipped and-how do they put it?-yes, 'tell it like it is.' I'm certain that, by comparison to the reports you people get from younger lovers and the like, that my little story will be hopelessly bland.
"To begin with-right off-Teddy and I attacked each other with abandon. Teddy insisted that I adopt the manner and language of a wife with a healthy sexual appetite rather than that of some timid old maid. I assured him that I would drop all pretense and begged him to do the same. 'Fuck!' my knightly husband of real estate commanded, and fuck we did! Oh, how we did fuck.
"Teddy's member rose as it had throughout our courtship and my cavern gushed in torrents. We were scarcely out of our wedding clothes and fondling as we had these past months, when Teddy had me spread-eagle on the huge bed, easing the throbbing head of his manhood into my waiting cavern. But Teddy was not a man to rush things-I knew of course that he would prove neither brutish nor swift from our many masturbatory sessions-and he whispered tender words of endearment as he drew my nipples into his mouth and eased his 'prick' into my 'pussy.'
" 'I do love you, Genevieve,' he panted. 'I've waited for this for so long. My God, can it be true that at last I'm sticking myself into your adorable pussy?'
" 'Yes, yes . . . Oh, Teddy, yes . . . don't make me wait. Do plunge it in to my very core!'
"Well, we went on that way until his 'prick' was at last in the vagina that I'd grown certain would never be filled by human flesh. And it was at this time that the entire tone of our relationship changed. Teddy uttered, 'Yes, love, my Rover is at last inside your quim. Baby, let us fuck-really fuck. We'll maintain the facade of respectability and propriety for the world, but together we shall be animals! We have waited too long to hold back-especially you, my love-and from now on we'll fuck and suck and it will be tits and ass and prick and pussy without any of the frills.'
" 'Yes, Teddy!' I responded. 'Fuck my ass off! Stick me everywhere. In private I'm your whore.
No act is beyond us. Shove it, sugar! Drive that rod into my-my cunt!'
"The word cunt drove Teddy absolutely mad. I'd used it only twice before, at his insistence, and his reaction had been beastlike. Now was no exception and he drove his prick with a fury I'd never dreamed imaginable.
"Rover, he had nicknamed his organ, and now he referred to it by name. Almost poetically, he panted now: 'Rover will never roam again. Rover is inside his home-the home named Quiff-and Rover will never rove again.'
" 'Quiff you call it and Quiff it is,' I said. 'Oh, Teddy, do drive Rover harder and harder into Quiff. Quiff welcomes Rover as no cunt ever welcomed a prick before. Oh, Rover, Rover, Rover! Stick Quiff hard!! ' I threw, literally threw, my ass hard up from the bed as Teddy instructed. 'Fuck my cunt!' I yelled at Teddy's command. Teddy was very concerned that I use the correct words and, being a skilled student of the language, I used the words of his choice impeccably. Soon I had the proper stress and slur of every phrase he desired.
" 'Like getting your ass fucked off, huh ? ' he kept asking.
" 'Yes, I love getting fucked in my cunt until I beg for mercy,' I replied. 'Give it to mama, baby. Slam that big slick beauty right in the slot! Yeah, yeah . . . more, more. Baby, can you ever fuck! Rover digs drippy, oozing poontang. Ugh! Argh! And poontang needs that prick-dick-cock-hard-on, prong, wanger, pecker! Stab mama, sugar! Grab her ass hard and make her come with that rock-hard meat hunk of yours, baby!'
"Teddy had many synonyms for his penis and I eventually discovered that it was not necessary for me to try to use them all in a row, as it were. Nor was it necessary to try and inject cunt, pussy, poontang, slit, slot, crack, hole, muff, quim, butt-hole, piece of ass etc. all into one sentence. Like any new student, I tended to overindulge in my newfound knowledge. I got better as we went along, however.
"Oh, it was heavenly. I had guessed that Teddy would prove to be a mighty lover, but such a feasting glutton was too good to be true. Quiff and Rover, the names of our organs that were to remain as permanent and personal nicknames, had the time of their lives!
"We must have done it-fucked-three times in a rather short span of time that way with me on my back and my legs wrapped about Teddy's buttocks to spur him on. Then followed 'doggie style' and 'takin'-it-in-the-ass.' My virgin vagina had held up splendidly throughout its indoctrination by Rover, but 'takin'-it-in-the-ass' proved to be a chore I found, at first, somewhat painful. Nevertheless I was determined to be a first-rate wife in all departments and soon even 'takin'-it-in-the-ass' became a pleasure. Teddy was patient and skilled at 'takin'-it-in-the-ass' and he tickled my clit simultaneously so that I was able to experience the most extraordinary and intense orgasms imaginable in this fashion. (Later, I was just as eager to play 'takin'-it-in-the-ass' as Teddy became eager for me to read him James Joyce and other poets he had never heard of. This was months later, however, and I don't want to get ahead of myself.)
"Of all the variations Teddy was to inject into the sexual theme, I suppose 'cocksucking' was my favorite next to actual 'fucking.' Teddy informed me that I had a truly natural aptitude for 'cock-sucking,' and in all honesty I knew he was correct in this evaluation. In school, for instance, I had taken to Chaucer and other poets of the middle ages with far more ease than, say, poets of the eighteenth century. And so it was with 'cock-sucking.' This game I approached with gusto.
"My salivary glands actually gurgled at the mere suggestion of this act. There proved to be something about taking my husband's organ deep into my mouth and laving it with my tongue, while manipulating his testicles, that touched off something primitive deep within my being. I loved to examine Rover closely in the full light. I relished inserting my darting tongue into the little crease in Rover's bulbous head. I became entranced while 'jacking' Rover and tonguing the purplish-brown head and every fold of delicious flesh. Soon, too, without much prompting, I developed a taste for the bland taste of each pearly drop that appeared on Rover. In fact, later that same night, I was to-ingest-yes, swallow deep down-the entire contents of Rover's ejaculations. 'Loads,' Teddy called them.
"And loads they were! I was astonished at the ability of human testicles to produce such a vast quantity of sperm over and over again. 'Here comes my load!' Teddy would shriek, and there the 'load' would come until my mouth was overflowing full. Each time Teddy would command, 'Swallow that load, baby!' or 'That's it, baby. Swallow it all, honey!' And I did as he implored without the slightest hesitation, for you see there was no deception or play-acting whatsoever involved. I was a splendid cocksucker, just as Teddy had informed me, and it was quite natural for me to enjoy drinking the contents of his 'balls' each time he gave me his 'load.'
"Teddy's licking my vagina was heavenly also. 'Cunt-lappin', ' he insisted was a specialty of his, and I would not argue the point for one instant. I experienced many delightful orgasms in this manner. It was quite natural, also, that I would therefore be predisposed to enjoy 'sixty-ninin', ' since this is a most heavenly act in which both genitals experience mouth to genital contact at the same time! But of course you know that already, don't you ? I-I am sorry. I keep forgetting that it is I who am the neophyte telling the world of age-old pleasures. Yes, the 'sixty-ninin' was one of my favorites. Teddy clutched my bottom hard and clenched his mouth over my entire genital area so that Quiff was totally immersed. At the same time, I dined on Rover and, to my delight, Teddy managed to maintain constant contact (or nearly so) with my clitoris. Simultaneous orgasms-'comin together or 'goin' off at the same time' were the order of the day.
"Naturally, I was not quite so naive as I have perhaps given the impression. I mean, I had indulged in a few conversations regarding sex with other females, and that lesbian I mentioned earlier had implied quite a bit in her efforts to lure me into her clutches. Then, too, I have read a number of magazine articles which were quite explicit. Still, despite my many masturbatory sessions with Teddy and other males, there was a great deal that was new to me. Teddy, unquestionably, had saved the bulk of what was to comprise our married sex life together to this night of nights-or perhaps I should refer to it as our week of weeks.
"In any event, it was a ravenous and beautiful thing, as I've told you from the beginning, and it was to extend on into months. You see, fortunately for both of us, Teddy's work in real estate is not a full-time thing. He has been able to spend a great deal of time with me. More so, of course, in those first few months than of late, but that's a matter I would rather not get into at the moment. No-I-I am puzzled about some aspects of married life, but-I . . . Do you suppose I could have another glass of water? Ah, that's better. Thank you so much. Not shocking you, am I? No, of course not. Please don't laugh at me. It's just as I told you from the beginning . . . I guess I spent so much of my life alone with my books instead of truly living that I've lost a bit of my-uh-perspective. I imagine myself a bit of a veteran when-when I'm the rankest of amateurs, eh? Yes, I can tell by the looks on your faces this is true. I do have some questions I want to save for last, though. Agreed? Fine. Then I'll continue. I do want to come to the part that really brought me to you-the questions, I mean. But for now I'll go on . . . yes. . . .
"Well, as I said, Teddy doesn't really have to spend a great deal of time at his work. He's extremely well off and thus we were able to spend the time following our honeymoon in precisely the same manner as during our honeymoon. What female could dream of a more blissful existence?
"Finally, too, there came the time I had longed for. Teddy had given me the physical satisfaction-the ecstasy I had so long yearned for-and now I could share with him that part of my life that he had been denied. Yes, now I could educate him, indoctrinate him to the world of literature, just as he had educated me to the world of sex. It was time, I sensed, to begin the many readings of the truly literary greats. Teddy proved a willing and able student, too. He swore that he enjoyed Chaucer and-and I could tell he did. His face would light up as I read The Miller's Tale and those really sexy, bawdy parts of literature from my favorite period.
"On and on we proceeded. I revealed to him as I had never unfolded or admitted to any other student the depth of my love and understanding of the' classics. Shakespeare seemed to bore him just a trifle, so I stayed mainly to the favorites -Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, Julius Caesar, Othello-you know. And then, at times when he seemed bored, I skipped forward to the contemporaries. I tried to impart my love of James Joyce to him. and I'm absolutely positive he understood. I know many people think Joyce was just writing endless sentences with crazy punctuation, but Teddy really seemed to be getting what Mr. Joyce was about. I desperately hoped Teddy would comprehend the nuances, the mastery of language, the word play combined with such consummate skill the world is still to unearth all that exists in Finnegan's Wake or Ulysses. Joyce was a ribald devil, you know. Yes, there's a veritable treasure hoard of sex there.
"Well, to be certain I wasn't overloading my new husband with literature. I let him indulge himself with the athletic events on TV. Yes, and those silly series with detectives and the like. Of course, none of it compares with what is contained in the classics, but I did indulge myself with him.
"Most important, however, I didn't lose my taste for sex. I became, if anything, a more starving, craving addict to the whims of Rover than ever before. I can't tell you how many times, in the very middle of a televised athletic contest;football and the like-that I knelt at Teddy's feet and took Rover into my mouth and nursed him until he 'came,' shooting out his pearly contents into my mouth. Nor can I possibly count for you the times I ceased my readings to Teddy in order that we might play 'take-it-in-the-ass.' You could not ask-no man could ask-for a more affectionate wife. I gave my body to him whenever I even sensed that he wanted it, and I hungered for his attentions to Quiff as well. Rover and
Quiff, Quiff and Rover. No matter what intervened or what occurred Rover and Quiff were an inseparable twosome hell-bent on pleasure!
Often, after we lay in Teddy's expansive house stark naked after one of our sex sessions, and I began once again reading from the classics to him, I would detect his cock-prick-hard on-dick stir. At these times, I would at once drop whatever book it was I was reading and we would 'fuck' once again or play 'cocksucking' or 'take-it-in-the-ass.' Not once did I let my husband, Teddy, down in this respect. Never. Quiff was Rover's inseparable companion for the asking, indeed, for the mere hinting!
"Oh, and did I marvel at Teddy's progress! His patience as I loaded his brain, his soul, with the best literature that brilliant minds have written throughout the centuries, was something to behold. I poured out my-there is no other word for it-guts to the man of my dreams. My very intestines spewed forth the sensitivity and knowledge of the poets I possess. At last I had another human being with which to share my innermost feelings, my life, my intimate knowledge of literature. Between 'takin'-it-in-the-ass' and 'cock-suckin" and every sexual act humans can conceive, I educated Teddy! Despite the interference of ball games and silly wastes of time such as those evening television series, I taught him! And at the same time we were able to enjoy the delight of each other's bodies!
"Isn't that a remarkable thing? Don't you agree? Good. Well, now I come to-to the questions I wanted to ask. I-I know that all honeymoons come to an end. By that I mean, I am quite aware that there is a leveling out, so to speak. One certainly couldn't maintain the frequency and intensity of sexual delight forever, could one? The human body simply isn't equipped to handle such-such exquisite ecstasy forever.
"Gentlemen, I wish to ask you-you as married men yourselves-just about at what level of frequency you maintain sexual relations with your wives. Ummm, would you say twice a week is normal? Do you frequently abstain for weeks at a time? And-I know this is personal-but I have revealed a great deal to you, haven't I ? I hope you will be candid with me. Do you find it difficult for-for long periods of time to-to achieve an erection ?
"You see, Teddy doesn't want me to read him the classics anymore. Not at all. I can understand a brief hiatus. Even colleges have resting periods between semesters, don't they? Well, fine, I can understand that part. But the-sexual-periods -of-of abstinence p-puzzle me. You have them, too? I don't mean to inject an element of-of pathos into this interview, but after such a paradise of sexual activity and literary splendor II don't quite know how to take Teddy's almost total lack of interest in anything between us anymore. This is a phase, isn't it?
"And other females? A man of Teddy's age-the male menopause I believe they call it-he does seek the companionship of other females without deserting his wife? You see, there is so much more for him to learn about literature. It will require years . . . years. And there he is, people tell me, roaming about the village with a-a perpetual erection for other females and he can't even get Rover erect for me at all anymore. Sorry, gentlemen, I didn't mean to cry, but Quiff is still waiting for Rover-waiting just as eagerly as ever for Rover to imbed himself in Quiff. But Rover is never around anymore, and I am with my books all alone once more. Just me-Quiff and her masturbation and her books. There is so much more for Teddy to learn, and Quiff is so desperately lonely. It is just a phase, isn't it? Teddy couldn't mean it about selling the house and living separately, could he?"
The problem of schizophrenia in the subject-combined with and/or caused by her emotional conflicts-will undoubtedly indicate immediate psychotherapy. It is impossible to say whether such treatment will be successful or not-the subject's intellectual development tends to throw a ray of optimism on the success of such treatment; however, her apparent regression into what manifests signs of childhood hysteria may create complications in the psychoanalyst's and psychotherapist's abilities to reach her.
CONCLUSION
Perhaps the only definite conclusion one can make after perusing the five cases of virgins who finally became women in this study-some at an extremely late period in their lives-is that the myths of virginity, tied in with those of "sanctity" and "sinfulness" still linger with us even as we are rapidly drawing toward the third and final quarter of this twentieth century. That this should be the case is alarming, particularly in view of the fact that as the cases presented here demonstrated, it is the woman as well as the man who thinks that sex is evil until it is "sanctified" by the vows and ceremony of marriage who is the most likely candidate for the psychiatrist's couch.
Why must this be so? Why is there still-even in the midst of what is termed "sexual permissiveness," of the "sexual revolution"-an aura of mythos surrounding the reality of biology, physiology, and natural sexuality? The answer more than likely lies in the fact that ever since man discovered his ability to invent stories and the gullibility of others to believe in them, he's been creating gods in his own image and attributing to these gods abilities and powers that man himself either did not possess or possessed to a limited extent. One of these attributive abilities that man bestowed upon his divinities was to punish for evil deeds and, eventually, for what man, for one reason or another, decided to classify as evil.
He applied this further in a reverse process; thus, for example, that without which there would be no such thing as virginity-as it is defined today-namely, the thin membrane that blocks the entrance to the vagina, man named hymen, for the god of love. The matter of the "blessedness" of virginity and its relationship to the Christian religion has already been touched upon within the internal commentary of this work.
Of course, this attitude toward virginity neither has been, nor is, universal. Yet, when one considers the fact that the segment of humanity that is known as the Western Society has been during the past several decades exporting not only its food and weapons, but its myth-laden beliefs to the "underdeveloped" nations of the world, one cannot but feel some apprehension for those parts of the world in which the inhabitants have not been touched by the genius of Western man's abilities to hang irresolutely onto the phantasmic tail of the nonexistent comet of man's primitive beliefs.
This is not to suggest that virgins are to be deflowered at the earliest age possible; that is a barbaric practice. Rather, it is to suggest that man cease his concern with the vengeful deity-from whom man has not heard in almost two millennia (if the last connection with that deity was not, in fact, a loose one, a case of the wind in the willows)-and turn to the realities of man's body and mind and emotions.
To cite again a few words from Eustace Chesser's work:
. . . St. Augustine said, "Love (God) and do what you will." The injunction is often quoted and generally misunderstood. What he meant was that if you love God you will not wish to break the moral law. His teaching laid the foundations of the elaborate moral system created by the Roman Catholic Church. This is legalistic through and through. It is a vast superstructure of "Do's" and "Don'ts." The official doctrine of the
Church even now is that contraception is always wrong and . . . the man and wife who practice it . . . are committing a sin. Outside marriage it is doubly wrong.
By contrast a subjective morality judges in accordance with our mental and emotional attitudes. It accepts Augustine's dictum without reference to God. The rule then becomes "Love, and do what you like.' There is no reference to a detailed moral law. No such law is known. Moral rules are made by man, and what man has made, he can unmake.. . .
And if the unmaking, or modification, of those laws will guarantee less unhappiness-both emotional and psychological-in the lives of men and women, then man should seriously start considering modifying and unmaking those laws that have manacled our minds and bodies to the clay out of which we rose.
