It may well be that the term "gang bang" is no longer quite accurate because that term implies multiple sex activity limited to youthful street gangs. But that same activity call it group sex, plural sex, multiple sex, or what you will is now occurring in places where the gang as such would never have been tolerated.
Must we coin a more refined phrase for "gang bang" because the banging has moved out of the dark streets and alleys that were once the gang's domain? Does the "gang bang" become "group sex" when it moves into the respectable suburbs, into elegant, high-priced apartment buildings catering entirely to swinging singles who desire sex with several partners simultaneously?
The answers are here....
TABLE OF CONTENTS INTRODUCTION CHAPTER ONE The Movie Scene CHAPTER TWO Street Gang Sex CHAPTER THREE The Ethnic Gang Bang CHAPTER FOUR Schoolgirls ... And Lesbians CHAPTER FIVE Strippers ... And Grab-bag Sex CHAPTER SIX The Bull Ring-A Fiesta of Sex CHAPTER SEVEN Swapping Sessions And Plural Sex CHAPTER EIGHT Sex And The Over-sexed CHAPTER NINE It Starts In The Teens CHAPTER TEN It Ends like This
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INTRODUCTION
That multiple sex affairs are on the rise is undeniable, as witness the many sex orgy clubs, the group wife-swappers, the collective sex orgies of the hippies and the college youths. In this book, we shall try to shed some light on the reasons for this upsurge of sexual license.
The best way to accomplish this is to "go to the horse's mouth," as it were, for our information. Through personal interviews and case histories taken from police files, casebooks of psychologists and psychiatrists, marriage counselors and sociologists, it is hoped that we can bare some of the urges and compulsions which goad a great segment of our population into having multiple sex experiences as a "normal" way of sex life.
As might be surmised, many of the persons who indulge in sex with more than one person at a time are, or become, what is termed "bisexual,"-that is, they indulge in sex with either gentler, almost at random, and without any distinct preference for either one.
There are, however, many who engage in plural sex orgies, who are strictly homosexual. Some of the areas of homosexual orgies are obvious: the military service; all-boy or all-girl schools; prisons-even work projects involving males who are cut off from women, such as workers in the foreign oilfields, lumberjacks, merchant seamen, and others.
Let us look first, then, at what we shall call:
A TRAINING GROUND FOR PLURAL SEX. Our first subject is Roy V. He was arrested in Chicago no less than twelve times-each time on the charge of soliciting or molesting males. By his own admission, Roy has been a confirmed homosexual since he was seven! He is now thirty-five, and has to date never indulged in complete sex with a female! More astonishing, to some, is the fact that only a particular kind of homosexual sex can satisfy Roy. He must have multiple sex within the homosexual sphere.
"We always had money," Roy began, "My old man was a big wheel in the furniture business in Chicago. I hardly remember being at home as a kid. I was 'farmed out' to a boys' boarding school when I was six. Now, don't get me wrong-I'm not blaming that school or my parents because I happened to like to suck cocks, and go for butt-fucking. I'd have been a homo, probably, no matter what had happened.
"But they didn't waste any time breaking me in. The first night I was there, I was screwed in the ass-hole-by two guys. Did I yell? Hell, they didn't give me a chance! While one guy was putting his cock up my ass-hole, the other one was shoving his dick down my throat. Yeah, I was six-close to seven.
"You take a young kid like that, and yank him out of his home, away from his family-crummy and cold as they may be-and you can do anything to him, as long as you accept him. And I belonged. When the word got out that I was 'OK', most of the guys were nice to me-even the bigger ones.
"We had no problems with the teachers; they were all gay, and inside of six months, I'd sucked them all and had been stuck by all of them. I guess by the time I left there-I was nine, then-I knew every trick in the book about sex. I used to have one steady boyfriend, a guy named Richie, and we had the same room, along with two other kids. We used to have some wild times. We'd have four-way bangs lots of times, but most of the time it was Richie and me.
"I used to like the 'party' kind of sex, but Richie used to get mad when I'd get carried away blowing one of the other guys. I liked to blow this one kid while he was down on me-you know-the old 'sixty-nine.' This kid had the softest mouth, and my dick was small enough then that he could almost swallow it. Sometimes, while we were doing each other that way, Richie and the other kid in the room would fuck us from the back. Other times, Richie would stick me in the ass while he was jerking me off. I liked it that way, and also from the front, because then we could kiss while we were fucking.
"You surprised that a homo would like to tongue-kiss, and all that? Why not? I belonged. The only love or attention I ever got, I got there. It always came from guys. Why shouldn't we love and make over each other, just like anyone else?
"And after that, I went to a 'prep school.' It was a Catholic school, and the teachers were all men. Can you figure a guy sucking a priest's prick two or three times a week, then going into a confessional and telling all about it and asking forgiveness? That's a laugh, all that religious horseshit. Celibacy-hah! No man is going to be a celibate-not as long as he's got a hand to play with his prick with, and a mind to fantasize with.
"I could tell you things that would curl your hair, but that's not my bag. I had fun at school. A good cock and nice tight ass-hole is the same delicious thing, whether the guy you're with has his collar on backwards or whether he believes in the devil. What's the difference, as long as he's there, and he's willing?
"But there was one bad thing about that school: only a small handful of the guys were gay. The rest made it tough. They would often beat the hell out of one of us, if we made a pass and they were 'straight.' Then some of the teachers would give it to us good-with whips and belts-if they caught us at it. I can still feel that cane that old Father Dom used to use on the homos ... the dirty old sonofabitch!
"We caught him one time, watching three of the guys having a gang bang, and he's sitting there with his cock in his hand, pumping away until he juiced! And then he caned us! I can imagine what the old bastard was thinking while he was watching a three-way gay ball!
"We used to call him 'Jerky' after that, right to his face. He beat the hell out of me once, when I wouldn't go to confession. I told him he needed it more than any of us guys did.
"I finished prep school, but I never did want to go to college. I couldn't have anyhow, because I was drafted. The Korean thing was going on then, and they weren't too fussy about who they dragged into the army. I mean-now, they give you all these psychiatric tests that are supposed to weed out the homosexuals and the misfits.
"I never did get to Korea, though. I ended up in the stockade after they caught me for the third time, going down on a guy.
"I was one of those that marched in front of the White House in Washington, protesting that homosexuals had the right to wear the uniform, and were entitled to an honorable discharge. After all, where the hell are those poor bastards going to get any sex, in a place like Korea-or in any battle area? You'd think we were poison, or something. Man-from the stories the regulars used to tell, and from the way they corn-holed a bunch of the guys-they don't do without fucking and sucking, no matter where they are.
"I didn't want to go back to Chicago, but my father was sick and wanted me to try my hand at learning the furniture business. He owned his own company, and he knew all about my being a homosexual. What he didn't know was, that I liked my lovers young-and I liked 'em by the dozen.
"So you're writing about multiple sex? Well, you came to the right guy, but I don't know if I can really tell you why I like it. I can sure tell you how I like my gang banging, but maybe not why.
"I guess it could be because that's all I've ever known. From that first night in boarding school, I've always had it with two or three guys-sometimes more.
"I tried a woman-just once. I wanted to see what it was like, just like a lot of straight guys I know have tried it with a homosexual-to see for themselves if they're missing anything. This was with a prostitute. She lived in the apartment building where I did, and she knew all about me being gay. I guess it was sort of a challenge to her-or a game; but she was the one that suggested we try it. I went along with it out of curiosity.
"We both stripped, and she lay there on the bed with her legs spread wide, rubbing her hands over that ugly, red, wet slit of hers. She acted like she was giving me a big treat, or as if I didn't know what a cunt looked like! It kind of shook her up, and she poured us some scotch, but that didn't help me. I couldn't get a hard on in a month, looking at a woman's cunt. She even tried sucking my cock, but that didn't work, either. I got a partial stiff, then when I'd look down and see that it was a woman doing it, my dick went soft again.
"Finally, she got up on her hands and knees, facing away from me, showing me one of the prettiest ass-holes I'd ever seen, and coaxing me to try it from the back. I thought she meant for me to stick my prick in her ass-hole, and I was beginning to get a nice stiff hard on, when she got the idea of what I was going to do. She got up and slapped me on the cock! Can you imagine that? She belted me a good one, right on the prick-and believe me, that will make a guy go soft in two seconds.
"Later, we got to be pretty good friends, but we never tried sex again, and I never tried it with another woman.
"But, to get back to this Chicago thing-I couldn't make it in the old man's shoes. When he died, the business was sold. It left me in good shape, financially. I can buy all the boys I need, but it's a funny thing-it's better when you can get them on your own, with your own looks and personality and sex appeal. Maybe you straight guys feel that way about prostitutes. More fun when you can get a gal in bed without money.
"So, I bought an interest in a bar-a pretty nice place. But my partner and I began to argue from the first time some of my gay friends began to come there. He wanted to throw them out, and I wouldn't allow it. I had a four room apartment upstairs that I used a sort of a club for my friends. Finally, my partner sold out to me and I let one of my best friends manage the place.
"We had some real balls upstairs. We were near a big high school, and a few of the kids from school used to get in on the parties. That was where I first got the cops on my neckthey saw all these fifteen-and-sixteen-year-olds coming into the bar. But I was hooked on the young ones by then. I had to have sex, with at least three guys every day, and the more in the group, the better it was.
"Then a fourteen-year-old favorite of mine got VD, and when his cock got sore and drippy, he ran squealing to his parents and they sent cops, the Health Department-everybody but the FBI, I guess. Anyhow, they padlocked my place and I spent six months in jail, after this kooky kid testified that I had paid him to perform sex acts with me.
"Like I said, I had the money, and by that time I was so hung-up on young kids that I began hanging around a junior high school trying to get acquainted with some of the tender stuff. And it isn't as hard as you might think. These kids were wise, and by thirteen or so, they've tried all kinds of sex-male and female.
"The one trouble with the young ones is-they panic if things get fucked up. Almost every time I've been arrested, it was because some kid got scared, or got mad when I wouldn't pay the higher prices they stick you with, and finked. And don't think they aren't little blackmailers and thieves.
"A lot of those young ones go both ways. They tell me they like cunts as well as cocks and ass-holes, One told me that he loved to put his cock in my mouth, even better than fucking his girl! He was a sweet kid. He used to talk so sexy while I was sucking him. He'd put the head of his lovely prick inside my mouth and murmur, 'Your, lips are so soft and sweet, Roy, baby-take my cock inside your soft, sweet mouth and sucksuck and lick it so sweet.'
"He was something else, but he was a blackmailing bastard. He knew how badly I was hooked, and he was a ringleader in a gang that used to come up to my place a couple of times a week for a good bang. He kept upping the price, and when I rebelled, he just called off the whole bunch. Naturally, I gave in. What's money for, except to enjoy life with?
"Right now, I don't have any problems getting young guys, as many as I want at one time, but not as young as I like them. Take these hippies-most of them go both ways, and I usually have a bunch of them around my place. You have to understand, though, I get bugged at them because they want the chicks around ... although, when I'm paying a kid for some fucking, the girls seem to enjoy just sitting and watching. But I like the boys younger than these hippies. Besides, some of those guys are dirty-I mean actually filthy, and when I want a nice prick in my mouth, I want it clean and sweet. And their ass-holes--well, you can imagine....
"I had a thing worked out for a time, with a couple of teachers who were gay. They talked it up at school-they both teach junior high-and I rigged up an old store building as a clubhouse. It worked out fine. A lot of the kids came down almost every day but we didn't bother the ones who weren't going for the homo bit. We would work it out with the others and then we had a real ball. I finally had a group of five of them who came in together, twice a week.
"Then one of the teachers got hot one day at school and when a boy didn't want to take a chance with him in the toilet, they got in a fight. The kid got mad and blew the whistle, and then the whole thing came out. Guess who took the rap? The teachers only got fired, but the juvenile authorities sent me up for nine months. It's tough on me, because I still like sex balls ... what you call 'gang bangs.' I can't take any chances now, so I just have to take what I can get. Oh, I can work up a party at one of the gay bars, but there are a lot of older guys there, like myself, and I don't get much kick out of it. Also, you never find any 'cherries' in a bar, and, just like for you straight guys, it's good to break a kid's cherry-you know, give him his first ass-fuck and suck his cock for the first time, or let him put his cock in a guy's ass-hole for the first time for him.
"I tried it back home, in Chicago, after Illinois passed that law that makes homosexuality legal-but, there's a big gimmick in the law for me. You see, it reads 'as long as the act takes place in private between consenting adults.' With me liking kids, that's about as good as no protection at all. Oh, you can get enough kids, all right, but if they get greedy or get mad at you, they can always blow the whistle, and for anybody who really stubs his toe, in Illinois, the law is really rough."
Roy recently discovered a new gimmick-the "sex ads" that appear in many of the way-out, hippie, and college protest papers. It seemed to be the answer for him. He was independently well-off, and could answer ads from persons in any part of the country, because he could afford to travel. He had an ad in almost all of the papers, in which he blatantly offered himself for sexual fun with all-male groups or individuals. He made it clear that he did not want anything to do with women, and he usually received plenty of answers to his ad.
CHAPTER ONE
The Movie Scene
Plural sex can be enjoyed as a pleasure, as a way of life; or it can be utilized and exploited as means to an end. Many examples of this latter situation occur in show business and motion pictures. A young actor who opportunistically takes the casting couch route, sometimes willingly finds himself a part of an off-screen sex extravaganza. Consider the case of Frank G.
Frank's story sounds like something out of Hollywood, which it is. He is twenty-eight, tall, muscular, with swarthy Latin looks despite the fact that he is Greek and Armenian. Although many men might call him the "Lounge lizard" type, it is obvious that women go for his darkly handsome features, and-a lot of men do also.
Frank is a hairdresser, and a good one. But hair styling started out to be just a sideline, for Frank came to Hollywood from New York City to become an actor. He has had a few minor parts with local "Little theater" groups, and a few bit parts in films and TV. His story 'tells us a little about what many people believe is the ultimate in group sex brawls-a Hollywood sex orgy.
"I went the usual route when I came to Hollywood. I grabbed a job as a hairdresser, but I only worked nights. There are a lot of shops in L.A. that stay open to midnight, so I had no trouble there. I'm a good hairdresser. I guess I could even make it with a shop of my own. But I didn't really want that. I wanted to be an actor.
"I didn't have an agent, so I started making the rounds. I got the message the first day, at the first casting office. The girl at the desk took my name and the couple of Broadway credits I had, then she told me that Mr. L. would probably want to see me. I was all excited, of course, thinking I'd stumbled onto a lucky break and would walk into a ready-made part. How dumb can you be?
"This guy was a real swisher, and he didn't waste any time. He shut the door to his office and just stood there, looking me up and down, like a guy usually looks at a chick with a real good shape.
" 'I think I just might have something for you, Frank,' he says, and then he almost floored me with, "Take all your clothes off!' I was still dumb, thinking maybe he had a part in some jungle movie, or the part of a boxer-you know, something where the muscles counted. So I stripped off my shirt and pants and stood there in my shorts.
" 'Coy, huh V he said, walking over and rubbing his hand over my prick. Well, I'd been had a couple of times by men, but I didn't go the route myself. I like women. Still, if that was the way you made it in Hollywood, that was the way I'd go. So I played dumb-let him think he had a real dumb cherry. He peeled off my shorts and stood there looking at my cock, almost drooling. When he began to stroke it, I admit I got a good hard on. He just dropped down to his knees and went to work-and, man, he knew how to suck a cock! Inside a couple of seconds, I had locked my hands in his hair and was guiding his mouth over my cock. He took it in so deep I thought he'd choke, but he had a look of heavenly bliss on his face, and when I came in his mouth, he just swallowed it like it was vintage wine, and kept on going.
"After that, he stripped and went to the couch and laid down with his legs spread. He played with his cock a little, motioning me over. I walked over and he reached under the couch and got some vaseline and rubbed it all over my cock. I knew what he wanted, and I was a little leery. I'd never fucked a man in the ass, and I wasn't sure I wanted to. But he pulled me down on top of him and be began to kiss me, sticking his tongue deep into my mouth, while he played with my cock and balls, and in a minute or so, I had another good stiff hard on.
"He spread his legs farther apart, all the while kissing me like mad, and he guided my rod into his ass-hole. I almost blew my cork! He was as tight and soft as a twelve-year-old girl would have been. He maneuvered my cock and played with my balls, and I swear to God that, when I came, I had never enjoyed a fuck more in my life. The funny part was, I think he came too. But I had been playing with his prick all the time I was ass-fucking, and it may have been just the mild masturbating I was doing.
"I just left my cock in and began pumping some more, and I came a second time. Meantime, he's kissing me and making over me like I was a woman, whispering about how sweet and wonderful I fucked him, and all that. Funny thing, but I forgot all about why I'd come to see him-he was that good.
"Afterward, he tells me that he doesn't have anything right then, but to have my agent keep in touch with him. I told him I didn't have an agent, and he seemed surprised. 'Well, I know a good one. I'll give him a call. I'm sure he'll take you on.' I guess I knew by the way he said it that the agent must be gay, too. I felt like I'd been used, but, at least, I'd had my first male fuckand it wasn't bad at all. And, I might have gotten myself an agent! Maybe if all the gay boys did business with each other, that would be my in.
"Manny, the agent, was a real swinger. He went both ways, everybody knew it, and he had more doors open to him than anyone I'd ever heard of. For some reason, he didn't go for me sexually. But the first time I met him, he looked me over like a guy picking out a fashion model. Then he nodded and said, 'Yeah, he'll really go for you, Frank.' He told me he had a party lined up for me that night, at the home of one of the big male stars, and that I was to go and have a good time and 'play ball.'
"I thought it would be a sex bash-and it was, but not like I thought. When I arrived at eight, there were about twelve people there-all men. I almost fell over when I saw who the man was that greeted me when I walked into the den. He's one of the biggest-and I mean biggest-stars in the business. I'd heard rumors that he was gay, but I'd heard that about everyone except Humphrey Bogart and Errol Flynn, so I had always taken it with a grain of salt. But this guy made no bones about it. And when he introduced me around, I found that there were six or seven other fairly well-known movie people in the group-guys you'd recognize in a minute.
"The star, who was the host, latched onto me like I was his date, bringing me drinks, and lighting my cigarette, and so on. He made it pretty obvious that I was 'off limits' to the rest, and they left me pretty much alone. After about an hour of drinking, my star escort got up, raised his glass and said, 'Let's get with it, men!' He began to strip! About then, I figured my agent hadn't told me the whole story, but I was in pretty big company so I decided to play it their way.
"I began to take off my clothes, and I could tell by the smile I got from Mr. Big, that I was doing what they expected of me.
"Once I'd stripped, it seemed to set off the whole damned bunch! My big-time buddy was first, and then everyone took off his clothes-even the damned bartender and a waiter who'd been serving drinks. After that, it was every man for himself-right there in that room!
"I'd heard of daisy chains and all that jazz, but you'd never believe all the ways a bunch of guys can have sex. The star came over and began sucking my cock, and I thought sure I had it made, but two other guys came over and, while he's sucking me off, he is jerking them off too-talk about ambidextrous! And if that wasn't busy-busy enough, another guy comes over-an old bald-headed coot-and he straddles the star, who is on his hands and knees, and he proceeds to shove his dinky cock up the actor's ass-hole!
"It wasn't a question of who came first, but who could come the oftenest, the most ways! The thing got sticky-I mean a guy didn't know who was sucking his cock, or who had his cock up his ass, or whose prick he had in his mouth.
"I watched a dandy. One guy had a piece of liver-I don't know where in hell it came from, but, so help me, he's got a hunk of liver and while he's going down on one guy, he is holding the slimy meat together, around the cock of the guy he is next to on the floor. This guy is being corn-holed by another guy, while he is sucking a guy's prick, and the guy with the meat folded it into a sort of a wet, slippery sack-like a cunt.
"But I'm almost too busy to notice what the others are up to, what with me taking my turn in the barrel. When the star finishes with me on the suck job, he concentrates on the two guys he's jerking off, and he finishes both of them off with his mouth, swallowing their jism like it was nectar.
"While all this is happening, the old buzzard has got his rocks off in the star's ass-hole, and he is going down on the star, like he was afraid the guy would get away.
"After the Big Man gets a good hard on, he shoves the bid guy away and he comes back to me. He puts me on his lap, straddling him, and with one hand he guides his cock up my ass-hole, while with the other he is playing with my cock. All the while, he's digging his tongue deep into my mouth until I'm almost gagging! You know something funny? All I could think of was, 'What would people say if they could see me, a nobody, being kissed and ass-fucked by one of the biggest stars in the business?'
"The wild sex thing was going on all over the room and even in a sort of a bar and den that adjoined it. I was fucked and sucked so many times I lost count. I guess I must have sucked four guys off, and corn-holed a couple-counting the star-until I couldn't get my cock up at all any more. About midnight, everybody was the same way, and a lot of them who had been drinking steadily, were passed out. The star had disappeared around eleven o'clock without even saying goodnight.
"I went home, and next morning I found a hundred dollar bill in my coat pocket, with a card that had only a telephone number on it. I called my agent and asked him what I should do and he said to call the number and see what the story was.
"It turned out that the card was from the old guy, and he was a director. He wanted me to come to an affair at his place the following Saturday night. I accepted, but first I went to see my agent. After all, sex was sex, but I wondered when somebody was going to mention an acting part for me.
"He told me not to worry, the sex would pay off with an acting job. The thing Saturday night was the same, but with a new twist. It was held around a real elegant pool, and everybody there was naked. We drank, swam, horsed around, and then the sex started. They were on the lawn, on the chaise lounges that were all around the place, in the pool-and two guys even fucked each other on the diving board!
"I got a small part in a Western movie from the director who threw the party. Then I didn't get anything in the acting line for over three months. Meantime, I was invited to at least a dozen of these group sex things. Finally, I told my agent that I didn't want any more gang bangs. I was getting fed up with the homosexual bit. I never did go for it because I preferred it; just to open some doors-and they weren't opening.
"He called me for a couple more of them, but I turned him down. I was having a hot affair with a dame who was about forty-one of my hair-dressing customers-and she was getting pretty impatient to take a trip to Mexico. She had money, and she kept giving me these expensive gifts-watches, rings, cigarette lighters and even money
-after we would make it at her place or mine. She was always talking about setting me up in a real flashy beauty shop in Beverly Hills, and I was listening-although I still wanted to act.
"I finally got a part in a play that was to star a well-known sexpot. She's dead, now, so I can tell it like it was. After the play was cast, she invited everyone over to her house to get acquainted and talk about the script.
"When we were all there and the drinks were going around, I discovered that it was really a sex orgy. The sexpot star started it by going over to the leading man and unzipping his pants. She was making jokes about 'not being selfish about it, but sharing it with all the others.' She got his cock out-and it was a big one-and she played with it some, then she got down on her knees in front of him and began to blow him! She kept moaning and wiggling while he was reaching a climax, and when he came, she just moaned some more and swallowed it. Then she jumped up and laughed and hollered, 'All right, we're open for business!'
"She came over to me and began to strip my clothes off. She was really something (you've probably seen her nude in a couple of movies) with 40-inch breasts, luscious wide hips and beautiful legs. By the time we were undressed, I didn't care if there were twenty persons watching. When she told me she liked to sixty-nine, we went at it. And did she ever like it!
"When I lowered my mouth to that golden-haired slit, and ran my tongue around the lips, then sneaked it inside to massage that hard little knob, she went crazy. She nibbled and sucked my cock; running her tongue all around the head, then licking it up and down like a lollipop, and finally plunging it deep into her mouth and sucking and massaging it with her tongue.
"We came at the same time, and I just kept right on going, but she pushed me off and laid down on the floor. 'Come on, Frankie,' she begged, 'I need it all the way up, as far as you can shove it.' When I lowered myself and started to put my cock in, she maneuvered around and put her legs up over my shoulders. I was half on my knees, and in that position, I think I must have gotten into that wet, wonderful cunt all the way up to my ass-balls and all.
"After that we mixed it up. There was a little of the homo stuff-two of the gals really went for each other, and one guy kept wanting to suck my cock, but, like I said, I really don't prefer the male bash-not when there are females around.
"That one lasted all night, and we didn't talk a word about the play. Later, though, we actually got into rehearsal. We were almost ready to open the play when the star was killed in an airplane accident. Afterward, there was some talk of going ahead with the play with a new female lead, but it wouldn't have worked, because the play was really a satire on the career of the girl who had been killed, and no one could have done it like her.
"When that blew up, and nothing new came up in the way of an acting part, I began to concentrate on the hair styling part of my work, and it was then that I got into this menage a troisas the French call it. The woman invited me to her house one night. I thought her husband was away, but he wasn't. He surprised the hell out of me by describing in detail what his wife and I had done on several occasions, right there in his house.
"He had two-way mirrors in all three bedrooms, in the bathrooms, and even one that allowed him to look into the living room!
" 'Don't panic,' he laughed, 'I'm not knocking it-I just want to get in on it. You see, Clara and I have a complete understanding about sex. I'm a bisexual and so is she, and she tells me that you go both ways.' (I had told Clara some of what had taken place at a few of those parties.)
"It turned out that he was much more homosexual than bisexual, because in all our little orgies, he only fooled with his wife a couple of times and even then it was usually to screw her in the ass or else have her suck his cock, both of which are really homo sex acts.
"I didn't mind, because right away he began to talk about setting me up in business, and I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to be anything more on the Hollywood scene than a 'joy boy.'
"There was rarely anyone else at the shindigs that Clara and Al liked, except me. And we came up with some pretty interesting combinations.
"Clara's favorite way was with her on her hands and knees, with me fucking her from the back, while she sucked her husband's cock. But while I was doing it to her 'dog fashion,' Clara liked me to use one hand to tickle the inside of her cunt, while with the other, I used one finger to play around her ass-hole. She had her husband reach down and play with her nipples-sometimes she liked it really rough-and she claimed that this pattern really hit every sensitive, erotic spot on a woman's body.
"Her husband's favorite was a straight sixty-nine with me, while Clara licked his ass-hole, or played with it with her finger. I don't know if I had any favorite way, unless it was another of Clara's favorites. It was kind of complicated, with me sitting on a low chair, and Clara straddling me. Her husband would stand behind me, and while I was fucking Clara-with her doing most of the work-she would suck his cock. I would reach around and manipulate his balls and ass-hole. When we all managed to come at the same time, that was a real kick.
"Sometimes, her husband would just sit and watch Clara and me, while he jerked off. In a way, I guess this was one of his favorites. I don't know what kind of a guy would get a kick out of seeing some other guy fucking his wife, or watch her suck a guy's prick-but he did. Funny thing, but I got a bigger kick out of it too, when he was watching us, and Clara always seemed to respond more hotly when her husband was there.
"I moved in with them for a while, and just loafed. Then Clara set me up in a beauty shop and we started an amateur 'sex club' with some of the other customers. Most of them were older, about Clara's age, and I think a couple of them were lesbians. I had another guy working in the shop and three women, and he had renovated an old Spanish-style house, complete with a bar and kitchen. The upstairs was completely furnished with bedrooms and bath, and it was there that we had our 'everyone's invited' sex bashes.
"I found that I was getting more and more of a kick out of having sex with two or more women at the same time.
"A couple of the women used to make regular appointments for these sex sessions we had upstairs, and they sometimes wanted a go with me and Larry, the other guy; or sometimes they would want it to be just women. All three of my women employees were swingers-they went both ways, with men or women. These rich bitches that I'd met through Clara used to pay the girls pretty good for sex bouts.
"You can imagine some of the daisy chains we had up there, with two guys and sometimes as many as six women. Larry finally screwed up the works, though. One of the older dames fell in love with him and wanted him to quit fooling with the others. She wanted him to marry her, but he just laughed at the idea. She got mad one day and sent a vice squad dame in. Naturally, we didn't approach new customers with the sex idea. Usually, if a newcomer wanted in, Clara had to vouch for her. But this dame came three times a week for a set and shampoo and the talk was a little loose. It would go over the heads of most 'straight' dames, but this one seemed to dig it-and Larry popped off to her about a session upstairs, and invited her to get in on it.
"She showed up all right-and she played it cool. She said she was a little shy, it being her first time at anything like this, and she said she'd like to watch a little, to see how things went off.
"She watched real good, and she had a tiny hidden camera. She got pictures of Larry licking one woman's cunt while a second woman was sucking him off. She got a picture of me fucking a woman while I was giving a blow job to a second dame.
"That blew the whole scene sky-high. Made the papers real big, about the 'hairdressing front for a sex club'-all that jazz.
"I'm still trying to get some acting parts, and I still get invited to the movie people's orgies. I was at a dandy the other night-different.
"I got a nice note in the mail, inviting me to a 'private screening' of an erotic film. I was instructed to bring a female friend and be at a certain address in Hollywood at 8 o'clock.
"I took this one girl that used to work for mea good-looking chick that really turned on sexually, with either guys or dolls. I figured it would be better to take somebody who wasn't too square about these things, and I made a good choice.
"When we got there, we stepped into a beautifully furnished front room, bathed in a dim blue light. We were given drinks and inside a half-hour, there were sixty people there-thirty men and thirty women, of all ages and types.
"We belted down the booze and began to mingle. Then we were shown a dirty film-the kind they show at stags, with plenty of sucking, fucking and ass-fucking. By the time it was over, and the liquor was beginning to take effect, we were really ready.
"Then somebody announced that we were on our own, and that upstairs was the place. I waited a few minutes to line up with a pretty sexy redhead that seemed to go for me, and then we went upstairs. You never saw anything like it. There was just one big room, and there was nothing in it but mattresses and big, oversized cushions.
"It was lit by the same dim blue lighting, and when we stripped, the place was already jumping, with three-way and four-way gang bangs going on, as well as a lot of couples fucking and sucking up a storm. This gal and I tried to find a place for us, but you couldn't even find a spot to lay down in. It was the biggest orgy I'd ever attended, and believe me, it was a gasser.
"I settled back on somebody's legs, while Ellie the redhead started to suck my cock to get warmed up. While she's working at that, some guy slides on her and begins fucking her from the back-not in the ass, just from the back. Meanwhile, the gal whose legs I'm using for a headrest untangles herself from whomever she was with, and she squats on my face.
"I just grabbed her by the cheeks of her ass and fit her slit to my mouth. And was she hot! I think she must have come four times while I was coming once. It's a funny feeling trying to time your orgasm to a dame's when you're sucking one dame off and another woman is sucking your cock while she's being fucked.
"After that, it was like a combat zone. You didn't even have to get up and look around-somebody would be waiting to grab you as quick as you finished one sex scene.
"I got screwed in the ass, in the mouth, and one horny bastard even tried to shove his cock in my armpit; though what the hell he would waste his time that way for, I'll never know-with all that hungry cunt and hot mouth around.
"I got some good contacts from that brawl-one director is really going to give me a good part in a war picture that's going to be shooting in a couple of months.
"Sure they have sex orgies in Hollywood. It's a form of 'mass casting couch' I suppose; but then, from what I read and hear, they have the same kind of swinging affairs in Podunk and Gedunk, so why single out Hollywood?
"I doubt if I could every marry now. That kind of wild sex I got used to sort of spoils a guy for marriage, and I don't know if I could hack it, watching my wife being fucked by other guys, or sucking them off, so I'll cool it with the wedding ring-at least for a while."
CHAPTER TWO
Street Gang Sex
The history of "gang bangs" is really the history of street gangs. The locale of street gangs is almost always the slum areas, where little opportunity for the healthy outlets of youthful emotions is available. Street gangs are usually composed of "birds of a feather," that is, youths from the same economic background, and often, of the same racial and ethnic groups.
Any large industrial city offers hundreds of different case histories. Yet, running through each gang, and each case history, is a thread of sameness. Much like the stripper who pointed out that, as an integral part of "sexy show business," she was forced to seek her private thrills in sex; so it is with the youngsters of the street gangs. There are no organized youth activities in most slum areas. Where there are, the facilities are usually so limited that only a handful of the youngsters can participate. They are deprived of parks, gymnasiums, recreation centers and qualified counselors.
This lack actually prohibits the organizing of such fine activities as Little League Baseball, Pop Warner League football, basketball teams and boxing, since the only available space is the streets. And on street corners and in back alley clubhouses, there are only two choices of diversion : crime, in the form of petty theft, drug traffic, etc., or sex. With the heavy incidence of police in slum areas, most youths do not become criminals-instead they turn to sex. The national crime figures show that, although juveniles are by far the leaders in crime, only a minuscule three percent of the total juvenile population are responsible for the majority of youthful crimes.
Angelica V. is such a girl. She was born in the slums and anticipates that she will die there. She is a statistic-nothing more. She has little hope of ever being anything else, but like millions of others, she is going to have one hell of a time while she lasts. She heads a gang of girls who are listed on the police blotter of a large Eastern city as "Angel's Imps." Some of their activities stagger the imagination of the sedate, isolated, well-fed suburbanites, but here, in Angelica's own words, is part of the story of the street gangs and the gang bangs in their rawest sense.
"I don't know who my father was, and my seven brothers and sisters are also in doubt. My mother is Puerto Rican, and I guess my father was, too, although he may have been a nigger, because we are darker than most P.R.'s. Nobody ever called us Puerto Ricans, it was always 'spic' We stayed pretty much to ourselves, and when I was thirteen, I began to go with one of the boys in a gang called the 'Eagles.' His name was Ricardo, and he was about seventeen and as tough as they come. He'd been arrested several times and had spent six months in a reformatory upstate. But he was good to me. He always saw that I had money for food. Sometimes he would give me money to take home to the others. I was 'his girl,' and it was hands-off to the rest of the boys in the gang. Most of them had their own girl, but I was the youngest in the bunch. Naturally, I had sex with Ricky-almost every day. The one thing that bugged me was that I knew he was having any other girl in the gang that he wanted whenever he chose to. It was one of the rules of the gang-the leader does what he wants while his own girl is untouchable.
"I got a 'shiv'-switchblade knife-and I passed the word that if I caught or even heard of any girl in the gang screwing or blowing Ricky I'd fix her cunt so that she wouldn't be able to fuck anybody else. Ricky heard about it and just laughed. I especially hated a Dago girl that he was screwing a lot. Her name was Elsa, and she was a tough bitch. Her two older brothers were big time hoods-some said they belonged to the Mafia. She was always bugging me, and always after Ricky.
"One night I had the rag on and Ricky didn't want me to blow him because he was in the mood for a hot fuck. When I begged him to go ahead in spite of my monthly period he slapped me and left. I followed him, knowing that he was going to take on Elsa in the back of the store that we used for a hangout.
"When I got there, there was a real gang bang going on. Ricky was sucking Elsa's tit, while another girl was going down on him, and Elsa was being blown by another member of the gang. I just saw red, and grabbed the 'shiv,' heading for the pile of flesh in the middle of the floor. I wanted to cut Ricky's cock off and slit that Elsa from ear to ear-I was so mad!
"I got a slice at her stomach before two of the guys grabbed me. It was then that I learned who was boss. Ricky was furious and he beat me with his fists in my face and belly while the others held me. I was only half-conscious when he finished with me. I hadn't cut Elsa bad, and after Ricky calmed her down he told her to lay down on the couch. When she had spread her legs, he demanded that I eat her pussy and even placed me on my hands and knees over her. Then he ordered 'Frog,' a crippled kid who was as ugly as sin, to fuck me in the ass-hole. I'd never been screwed in the ass, and this creep didn't use any lubrication at all. He came twice and then Ricky fucked me in the ass. I was already bleeding after the first one, but Ricky didn't have any mercy. After Elsa had come, Ricky made me blow a homo who was known as 'Fat Lips' in the gang. I was forced to lay on my back while this slob fucked me in the mouth. He almost choked me. All the while, Ricky was fucking me in the ass. After they had finished, Ricky took my own knife and cut my breasts-not enough to send me to a hospital or a doctor, but deep enough to leave scars for good.
"You know, I remember every detail of that brawl, and one of the things I remember best was feeling that little slut come alive when I put my tongue inside her cunt. I had always liked my snatch sucked, but I'd never had it done by a girl. After that night, Elsa became Ricky's girl, and I was up for grabs. I made up my mind that I was going to have Elsa suck my snatch, and I tried to make friends with her. I went all out, telling her that I had really been turned on with her and I wanted to do it again.
"I finally got her one night when the boys were out in a rumble uptown. We were supposed to wait for them at the hangout. Elsa was a pushover because Ricky was treating her the same way he had me-screwing anyone he wanted, While she was off-limits to the rest of the gang. She hadn't had any for almost a week, and I went after her good. I grabbed her breasts and kissed her on the mouth. I kept begging her to let me suck her off before any of the others got there, and she finally got so wet and hot that she couldn't say no. By the time I'd got my tongue inside her snatch, and worked her ass-hole with my finger, she was putty in my hands. I just switched around so that we could suck each others' cunts, and she was wild to make me come. In fact, we came together, and when the other girls arrived we were still at it. They were a bunch of mice, and didn't say a word. I found out later that two of them were already lesbians but they hadn't let the guys know it.
"It was after that that I decided I was going to run things. I got four other girls-Elsa was one of them-to go along with me. The first thing I did was to send word to Julio, head of another gang, that we wanted to join up with them. He had tried to get into Rick's gang, but couldn't, and he had started his own outfit. The reason I picked him was that they had a pretty good shoplifting racket going, and the girls were always better at that than the guys.
"The night we got together was a sex brawl like you've never dreamed of. I was fucked by five of the guys in the gang, and sucked off by two of the girls. From that night on, as far as leadership went, I ran the girls and Julio commanded the guys.
"A couple of weeks later, three of us girls got caught and I was sent to reform school. I was only there a day or so before I showed them who was boss. That was a ball, because most of the girls there were lesbians. The ones who weren't were hooked on dope, and we could get anything we wanted by fucking the guards. If I felt like I needed a prick, I had one inside of ten minutes. Most of the time, I went for the girls. I've always liked my snatch kissed and sucked, and girls do it differently than guys-maybe better. I used the guards to get me the things I wanted, and used the loot to lord it over the girls in the school.
"When I got out, I thought I would go right back to running my half of the gang, but it had been busted. The cops got some of the members, and Ricky's older brothers had chased Julio and the other guys into hiding. But the big surprise was when Elsa met me-with one of her brothers. He just stood there and looked me up and down, then he nodded, saying, 'Might be able to get twenty or so for her.' I guessed that he was talking about prostitution, and I was right. Elsa was heading a call girl deal for her brothers and I decided to join up. We worked out of a cheap flophouse, but we were pretty classy. The girls specialized in gang bangs-where three or four of us girls would meet with five or six guys and do whatever they wanted. It was usually at some guy's hotel room, and we were never bothered.
"I kept thirty percent of all I took in, but a lot of that went for clothes and my share of the apartment I lived in with three other whores. We never had guys there, but between ourselves we used to have some of the best sex parties I've ever been to.
"No, I wouldn't call myself a lesbian. I like guys-when I can pick them and it's not for money. But women are more fun. They're more gentle than men. I've never been with a man who I thought really felt anything for me, but I've had a lot of girls go down on me and they really seemed to care about whether or not I came good. Besides, I've had a lot of men beat and burn meand also cut and whip me-but I've never known a girl who wanted to do that to me."
Angelica's case is just one more in the annals of sociologists and penologists. It is significant that this nineteen-year-old girl is now in the hospital section of a woman's reformatory where she is undergoing treatment for syphilis. She is like a cornered animal, and refuses to obey rules or take part in group therapy and at times she refuses to eat or participate in the recreational periods. She was willing to talk to a young intern of Puerto Rican descent. However, when she did it seemed as if she resented seeing a member of her own race achieve the respectability and security which had eluded her.
The records of city police departments reveal an alarming increase in the female membership of street gangs. However, few such girls ever band together as an auxiliary arm of a major gang, except for purposes of prostitution. Then they seldom operate on their own for it is not long before they are syndicated by gangsters and pimps.
Another side of this picture was provided by Mario D., an American-born Italian from an average-size Southern city. Mario is a sociologist's prototype of the misfit. Born in the New York slums, where he was a member of a minority group, he was transplanted at a crucial age to a town where no white person was ever in the minority-that group was composed solely of Negroes.
When his father got a job in a mill, Mario, for the first time in his life, did not have to live in the slum section, although his home was substandard and located in a neighborhood which bordered the Negro ghetto. Mario, the newcomer, suddenly found himself the admired leader of a gang of young drop-outs, merely because he had more experience in street fighting, theft and other rebellious acts.
Most important to Mario, he now had a target for his own hostilities, and there were few who would attempt to stop him and his gang from venting their spleen on the hapless and less fortunate Negroes. Mario's favorite victims were young Negresses. Any black girl was fair game. And once she was trapped by the gang, there was little she could do if she valued her life.
"I'd been in on the gang bangs for as long as I can remember," relates Mario, "I must have been about nine when I had my first one, but it wasn't with girls. A bunch of guys used to have this clubhouse that we made out of old hunks of tin and cardboard in the back of a junkyard. We used to have jack-off contests to see who could shoot the quickest and the farthest. Then we used to jack each other off. We had a couple of young kids in the gang, and if they wanted to stay in they had to do anything we said. One was a 'chink,' and the other a 'nigger.' First, we used to just make them jack us off, but then we made them suck us off. That's about all I had until I was eleven. We were always letting younger guys in, and they always had to jack us off and suck our cocks as part of their initiation. There was this one guy, Mike, who wanted to corn-hole a kid-you know, stick it up his ass. That started everybody doing it, and before you knew it, all of the smaller guys were being fucked in the ass by the bigger guys. It wasn't too bad, because there were always some dumb new kids in the gang that we could do it to.
"Some of the guys fooled around with girls, and the girls would always want to come and see what the clubhouse was like. I had one that lived in the same building that I did, and I told her once that if she'd suck my cock or let me put it in her cunt, I'd take her to the place. She said, 'Prove it and then I'll do it,' so I took her to the place this one afternoon. She was eleven, the same age as I was, and all the kids liked playing grab-ass with her. I think she'd been fucked before because she was awfully quick about dropping her panties when I told her to keep her promise.
"It was my first time, but I'd heard the big guys talking about how they slid it into a girl's pussy, so I told her to lay down on an old car seat that we had in one corner of the clubhouse. She did, and spread her legs wide. I was surprised, I guess at how much hair she had around her cunt, but I didn't let on. I just climbed on top of her and put it in. I don't know if she was putting me on or not, but she kept saying something about what a big, good cock I had, and she started squeezing her legs around me and hugging me, while she shoved her tongue into my mouth.
"I didn't think it was any better than sticking it in a guy's ass, and I liked having my cock sucked a hell of a lot better. Later on, I got to like fucking better.
"Anyhow, we were starting on a second round-I came real quick, and she wanted me to keep on going so she'd come-when in walked the big guys-Mike and Sal and Lefty. They were all about sixteen, and you should have seen their mouths drop open when they saw me working on this kid. They started hollering, 'Me next!' and 'I'll take sloppy seconds!'-things like that. It bothered me, and I pulled my cock out, but the girl, I think her name was Marie, didn't seem to mind.
"She just laid there, grinning at the guys, with her legs spread apart so you could see inside those wet, red lips of her cunt. Sal was the biggest cunt-chaser in the gang, and he yanked out his prick and walked over to her, jerking away at it. He got it hard in a few seconds and he went at her like he was dying for it. And man, did she go for it! While Sal was fucking this kid, Lefty got the idea that it was a waste of time taking turns. He went over and pushed Sal's head out of the way, while he knelt over Marie's face and began to make her suck him off. She didn't like it at first, but when Lefty slapped her a couple of times she got the message and really went after his pecker with her lips, tongue and throat.
'We all had a crack at her, but nobody fucked her in the ass that first time. Later, though, this Marie got so she could take on three guys at the same time! One would lay flat on his back on the floor, while she lowered her snatch down on his cock. Then the second guy would straddle her ass and shove it up her ass-hole. Another guy would lie down near the head of the first guy, and Marie would suck his cock. A couple of times, just to show off, she also jerked a fourth guy. Four guys at one time! Ever hear of that before?
"Later on, a couple of Marie's friends joined up. We had all the ass we wanted. We used to make the girls suck each other off, or use their fingers, hot dogs, bananas, even broom handles, to fuck themselves while we'd watch. Or we'd have somebody suck us off while they were putting on a show.
"Then my old man got this job down South, and we moved. Those cornpone jerks didn't know anything. I found out that the only fucking they ever got was some scared nigger kids who were afraid to say anything because the niggers down there are treated like dogs-if they snap back at you, you just kick them to death. Those dummies-the guys, I mean-they didn't even have a knife. All they ever used in the gang fights were clubs or chains or their fists. At first, they didn't let me hang around, but when one of them called me a 'dago,' I cut him up before he could even get a punch in, and from then on when I talked, they jumped. I had a zip gun, too, and I showed them how to make one.
"I had kind of grown to like having my cock sucked-by guys as well as by girls-and most of the guys in the gang were straight. There was one cocksucker that they let hang around and run errands-a real flunky. The others would make this guy suck them off every once in a while, but none of them had ever fucked him in the ass. I showed them how it was done. You know something? Inside three months every guy in that gang had sucked every other guy's cock and most of them were ass-fucking, too.
"One night I caught this little nigger kid. She was about ten, I guess, and she was a real teaser. She had little titties, but no hair on her body at all. I gave her a dime to let me take her for a ride in my old man's car. When we got to this place in the woods, I made her strip. She had a nice little box, and she didn't mind my sticking my fingers up inside it. I made her play with my cock, but she didn't want to put it in her mouth. I wanted to look down and see that white prick of mine sucked deep into a black mouth, and I got pretty mad when she wouldn't do it. I beat the hell out of her until she finally opened her mouth. When I shoved it in, the little bastard bit it! Hard!
"I belted her a good one and knocked her out. While she was groggy, I fucked her good. She bled some, but it only helped to make her juicy. Then I rolled her over and gave it to her in the ass-hole. It was tough. I almost got blisters on my cock, she was so tight and dry. But it was good, looking down and watching my cock go into that black cunt and up her ass. When she came to, she was blubbering all over the place, and I told her I'd give her some more if she didn't suck my cock, and this time, no biting. She went to work on my prick and she didn't fool around this time at all. She just sucked and sucked until I came in her mouth. I held her head down on my prick when I came so she had to swallow the jism. When I took her back to where she lived, I told her that if she said anything to anybody, the gang would burn her house down, and beat the hell out of her family. I told her to meet me the next day, and she did!
"I told the gang about her, and this time, I took her to where we used to meet, in the garage of one of the guys. She was scared as hell, but we made her fuck and suck until she was about to pass out. We were all pooped out by then, and one of the kids made her shove a broomstick up her cunt. He wanted to measure just how far a guy could get a cock into a little cunt like hers!
"When we let her go, she was a mess. We didn't know that she'd tell on us, but she went bawling to her mother. She didn't have any father, but she had two older brothers, about fourteen and fifteen. Those crazy niggers came after us! She showed them where the garage was, and they came the next night. You know what they had? Gasoline! They poured it all over the outside of the garage and then threw a match. We were inside playing cards, and you never saw such a scramble!
"We ran out, just in time to see the two guys running away. We didn't even stop to try to put out the fire. We couldn't have, anyhow, it was burning like crazy. We just went after those two black bastards. We caught up with them a block away, and man, you should have seen their faces. I think they turned white, they were that scared. We took them to an old, empty shed on the edge of niggertown, and we stripped them naked and tied their hands. Then we sent one of the guys to get this little nigger kid that had started the whole thing. While he was gone, we burned the two brothers' cocks and balls with cigarettes. One of the guys got the idea to piss in their mouths, and while a couple of the guys forced their mouths open, the rest of us pissed on their faces and in their mouths. One of the guys even took a shit in one nigger's mouth and made him swallow some of it!
"Then I got to wondering how they would be as an ass-fuck, and we burned them good until they were glad to get up on their knees and be fucked in the ass. I took a crack at the first one, and he wasn't bad at all. The other one was too scared to be any good. He actually fainted a couple of times, but three of us ass-fucked the first one.
"When they brought the girl back, we made these guys sit there and watch, while we shoved cocks into her cunt, her ass-hole and down her throat. You never saw three more scared people in your life. The youngest boy-the one that kept fainting-kept pissing all over himself, he was that scared.
"After we all had some fucking and sucking from the kid, we made her suck her brother off while we made the other brother lick her cunt. Before we let them go, we cut the boys up a little-not enough to make them bleed to death-just some nicks on their faces and chests, and a couple of good slices on their pricks.
"We did that to a lot of niggers, after that, but most of the guys got tired of black fucks. We started after some of the white girls in the school. Man, you'd be surprised how some of those thirteen and fourteen-year-old cunts like their fucking. We had about five of them that really kept us busy. Then one of the dumb bitches got pregnant. We couldn't raise any money for a doctor, and we wouldn't have known where to get one, anyhow. So we decided to 'fix' her ourselves. We got some whiskey-one of the guys stole it from his father-and we made her drink the whole damned quart. When she passed out, we stuck an ice pick up her snatch, poking around until we were sure, from the blood that came out, that we had fixed her good.
"When she woke up, she was still too drunk to stand, so we took her over to one of the nigger kids' houses, and told them to take care of her. We told them that if they said we'd brought her there, we'd cut off their balls and tits, and they knew we meant it.
"Then the damn dumb bitch died! The nigger woman at the house had tried to stop the bleeding with some home remedies. I think she fucked things up, but anyhow, the cops arrested four of us guys. I don't know what will happen now. That damn dumb little bitch, getting pregnant like that! She really fucked things up for us guys!"
Of the four youths arrested, three were sentenced to indeterminate sentences in reformatories. Mario, the principal agent in this vicious murder, was judged mentally incapable of being tried, and was committed to a mental institution for the criminally insane. The defense attorneys for the other three youths continued to try to get a new trial for them on the premise that it was the Negro woman's ministrations to the dying girl that caused her death. All appeals were denied. Mario's account was given while he was awaiting the court's decision as to his mental competence. If he is declared legally sane, he can be tried on several charges, including involuntary manslaughter-the same charge which sent his three savage companions to the reformatory.
It may be reasonable to conclude that economic deprivations, when combined with the inherent feelings of group cohesiveness in underprivileged areas, can be responsible for the youth's initiation into gang sex and the brutal acts of violence which often follow. The following case clearly illustrates that, depending on the youth himself, the results need not be disastrous.
Manuel R, a Mexican-American, was led into this same sex trap. He is one of nine children born and raised in the slums of a large Western city. Fortunately for Manuel, there is a chance for him to straighten out his sex life and become a healthy, normal individual. He is an alert, intelligent fellow, and talks freely of his experiences in an effort to help others of similar circumstances avoid the pitfalls he has known. Here, in Manuel's own words, is his story:
"Life isn't easy in a Mexican slum, and the one thing that we could always get for free was sex. I guess I lost my cherry when I was about thirteen-maybe younger. And there are a lot of other things that people assume, that just aren't true. One thing is about the Mexicans and the colored guys. You might think that we get along, just because we're sort of 'in the same boat,' being the two minority groups in the city. But some of the wildest gang fights I was ever in were between Negroes and Mexicans. And it was always them that came to our neighborhood, looking for trouble. They came looking for girls and that meant trouble.
"It's a funny thing, but the white guys as well as the Negroes seem to think that all Mexican girls are sexpots, and that all they have to do is whistle, and the dames will flop over on their backs. Maybe that's true of some of them. They like their loving pretty hot, but they want to keep it in the neighborhood, too.
"My oldest brother is on the police force, and if it hadn't been for him, maybe I wouldn't be doing so good today. A lot of the gang that I ran with are now in jail, or else they're in all kinds of trouble all the time.
"My first trouble with the law was over a gang bang, and I mean a real street gang bang. The gang was in front of a taco stand that we used to hang around a lot, when these colored chicks-five of them-came cruising by in a jalopy. Naturally, we started whistling and hollering, and right at that time their car conked out.
They had been pretty brave and smart-alecky while they were moving, but when they became sitting ducks for us, they got pretty scared. They were about seventeen, maybe a little older, and they had come into our neighborhood on a dare. And now we had them where they couldn't get out.
"We pushed the car into an alley and told them we'd get it fixed, but first we were going to have a little 'black-ass.' The two oldest ones took it as a joke. I guess they had been fucking around in their own neighborhood a lot, because one laughed and said that we couldn't afford their prices. Then one of our guys told them that they couldn't afford not to give us some ass, and he showed them a switchblade knife that he carried.
"We took them into the back yard of an auto salvage place where there were a lot of seat cushions, and we went to work. It was my first piece of black ass, and I was a little nervous-mostly because my brother told me that if he ever caught me not toeing the mark, he'd wrap me up good, and he could do it, too. He'd been a pretty good boxer before he joined the police force and I was more afraid of him than of anybody in the world-even the boyfriends of these colored gals. One gal kept telling us that her boyfriend was following in another car, and I was glad we had pushed their heap into an alley, where it-would be hard to spot.
"Once those gals got warmed up, they really went the route. This cute little chick that I grabbed wasn't as dumb as she made out. First she said that she had the rag on, so I told her that she'd just have to suck cock. She surprised the hell out of me by acting real happy about it. So, I took it out. It was already pretty hard by then after me feeling her tits and ass through her dress.
"She never batted an eyelash. She just got on her knees in front of me and began skinning back the foreskin, sort of half-jerking me off, while she kept touching the head of my cock with the tip of her tongue. When she started to really work her lips and tongue on my dick, man, she made me come inside a couple of minutes. Then Big Al came over and flopped her on a car seat and yanked off her panties. It made no difference to him that she had the curse. He just shoved his dick in. Then another guy came over, pushed me aside and began to fuck the chick in the mouth!
"There were nine of us and five girls and before it was over, I'd had every girl at least one way, and I think all the other guys had, too. We didn't even bother taking turns. If there was an open hole in sight, one of us filled it with his prick. Big Al fucked one girl in the ass-hole while another guy was trying to screw her in the pussy. I don't know how they liked it, but I do know that all five of those girls dragged themselves out of there that night with at least nine different cocks having been shoved up their pussy, their ass-holes and in their mouths.
"We thought it was a gas then, but the next night, three cars loaded with Negro guys pulled up in front of the taco shack. They tossed a fire bomb inside, then headed for the other parts of the neighborhood. One of the Mexican girls they got was my sister, Linda, and they more than made up for what we'd given to their girls. Here's what Linda told us later.
" 'I was with Sophie, my girlfriend, coming home from the library, when this carload of colored boys pulled up. We just kept walking, pretending we didn't see them but they came right at us. They grabbed me but Sophie ran into a house, and they didn't chase her inside. They put me in the car, one of them holding my mouth with his big, black hand. The others in the back seat tore off my panties and my dress, and they began to shove their fingers inside my pussy, while another one kept biting the nipple of one of my breasts.'
" "They took me to a field, about ten blocks from my house, and then they just took turns with me-two at a time. One would screw me, while the another would make me suck his cock. I think I fainted once or twice, but they kept me there for over two hours. There were six of them and I know that I was screwed at least ten times, and every one had at least one turn at putting his cock in my mouth. Two of them also shoved their dicks up my ass-hole, and I cried and tried to holler for help. When I did, one of them began to punch me in the stomach and hit me hard between the legs with his fist. After that, I tried to keep from screaming while they went ahead and had ass-screwing.'
"When my sister made it home, she was hysterical and she called my brother at his house. He's married and he was at home, so he came over and called the closest police precinct. He made my sister give a full description and all the details she could remember.
"After that, it turned into a sex war. We got two little colored girls the next night, and we really beat the hell out of them, and then we all fucked them good and made them suck us off. I think the girls were about eleven, maybe a little younger, because neither had any titties and they didn't have any hair on their slits. When I shoved my cock into the mouth of the youngest one, she bit me, so I slapped the living daylights out of her. I reached a finger up inside her pussy and put another finger in her tight little ass-hole, and I squeezed and twisted until she screamed in pain; then one of the guys shut her up by shoving his cock down her throat until she gagged on it. But he didn't let up. Those two were just the start. It got even worse. We caught a couple of young male Negroes and we had a real gang bang with them. We corn-holed both of them, and we made them suck us off, two or three times, and we'd hold their mouths shut and make them swallow the come. Mike cut both of them pretty deep, right on their cheeks.
"We got on a violence kick, I guess you'd call it, and we grabbed anything that moved and was black. We got one woman and her two daughters, about eight and ten years old, and the seven of us fucked and sucked and corn-holed them until they passed out.
"That was the end of me on that kick. The woman knew my brother, and although she wasn't positive in her identification, she didn't have to be. My brother came over and beat the living hell out of me. I mean he would have killed me with his bare fists if I hadn't admitted that I'd been running with that gang that had been pulling all the sex bangs. He told me that if he ever heard of me being with any of the gang again, he'd send me up. He would have, too.
"I began to concentrate on football and my school work, and I made the team and did real well. Then I got a scholarship to the university and took up psychology. From what I know now, I can see why that sex kick stayed with me. I liked the violent parts-the cutting up of those kids, the burning with cigarettes and matches.
And, when I started to go steady with a girl, I found that I enjoyed hurting her, too. I used to pinch the nipples of her breast until she cried out or slapped me. When I had intercourse, I found that I liked to shove my finger hard and deep into her ass-hole. Finally, I started going to a cathouse, and having two or three girls work on me at the same time. I noticed also that in football I really enjoyed the body contact-the physical part of the game. I knew I needed help, so I went to my brother and he enrolled me in group therapy. Now that I'm majoring in psychology, I may eventually be able to help other kids like myself. I've got a long way to go, but I've already learned a lot about myself.
"I don't blame the neighborhood and the slums, because I now know that this kind of stuff also takes place in the better neighborhoods; We've got kids on campus who are wealthy and they still go in for the sex brawls and the violence, in spite of all their beliefs in non-violence.
"I'm going to make it, and when I do, I want to work with young kids who think it's smart to screw around and to try drugs. I know better now. Those kind of kicks only lead up a one-way street. I found my way back and I'm going to devote my life to keeping other kids off that road to hell."
CHAPTER THREE
The Ethnic Gang Bang
As previously mentioned, the incidence of the gang bang in slum areas, or in areas which are highly populated by minority groups, is much higher than in other areas. Sociologists and psychologists do not find it difficult to pinpoint most of the reasons: lack of normal outlets for youthful exuberance; a lower standard of educational facilities; the general need for "birds of a feather to flock together"; plus a growing resentment for authority, both parental and civic, which pervades the entire body of youth today whatever their background or circumstances.
The greater Los Angeles area provided the author with an excellent opportunity to explore this facet of the multiple sex upsurge. While the average person thinks that the slums, with their minority groups, are the actual birthplace of gang bangs, we were surprised to learn of the many different reasons for the gang bang within a particular ethnic group.
Perhaps it is best told in the words of a young Negro, Lennie T. Although he does not state it outright, Len hints that he was one of the leaders in a large city riot in 1965. He is a militant black, and an intelligent young man who welcomed the chance to, as he put it, "tell it like it really is."
"You have to be black, baby, to really feel it. Oh, you may understand it, but that ain't feeling it. Well, maybe the best place to start is with my first gang bang. I was seventeen, and I hung around with a bunch that was pretty wild. Nothing big time, just wild. There were a few pot smokers, but I never used the stuff. Who needs it? I can get turned on by a thousand other things. We had our girls, but if a guy went for a chick, and was getting his steady ass, the rest of the gang not only laid off her, but they made damned sure that she didn't fart around with any other guy. About the worst thing a girl could do, to our way of looking at it, was to go for a white man.
"This Ellen, she slept around some, but mostly she went with one of the guys in our bunch-when he wanted her to. But she thought her shit didn't stink. She was what you people call a 'high yellow,' which is pretty close to a light coffee-and-cream color. Then she disappeared for a while. Not really, I mean she just wasn't there when her boyfriend wanted a date. We talked to her sister and found out she was dating a white bastard, so we decided to teach her a lesson.
"Jon, her boyfriend in the gang, called her at work and told her he wanted to see her that night, and that she had better be there. She was, and so were we. We took her over to a private club that we guys used for a meeting place on the nights when the grown-up guys didn't use it. There were about twelve of us, I think, and she was the only chick. I think she knew what she was in for, because she didn't say a word. She just looked at us like we were shit.
"Jon told her that she was getting too big for her brassiere and that she was to take off her clothes. She spit at him and said, "Take 'em off yourself, you black-assed bastard, if you want
'em off!' And Jon did, all in one big stripping motion.
"I got to admit that she was a lot of chick-nice big boobs, slim hips, a nice spot where her thighs met her body, and that pretty-lipped thing that showed through her thin hairs. And she had guts. She didn't flinch or beg.
"Jon said to her, 'We heard you run out of black cock, baby, or maybe you don't like it much since you got that white prick to play with. Well, we gonna convert you back, baby. We figure that somewhere among us, there's just got to be a black prick that will satisfy you. Maybe you just ain't been getting it in the right places, so let's start you off with the old one-two-the mouth and the cunt at the same time. Now, you just lie down there on that couch, and be a good girl. Be the best you ever was, baby, or I'll slit that cunt of yours clear up to your chin, and nobody, black or white, will be able to fuck it or suck it again!'
"He always carried a knife. Most of the guys called him 'Shivvie' instead of Jon, and he had that switchblade in his hand when he talked to her. She knew he meant what he said, and she just laid down on the couch. Jon motioned to the biggest guy in the gang, a dumb slob who must have weighed 240 pounds. We called him Horse. He had a cock on him like a stallion's-long, fat, and ugly-looking. Jon told Horse to get into her cunt with his prick and to really pound it good to her. Then he told me to get over her face with my cock and shove it in her mouth. Meantime, he stood with that switchblade poised right under her ear, and you can bet that she gobbled my goody while she shook her black ass real wild for Horse.
"After that, we all took turns with her, two at a time. One of us would fuck her in the ass-hole, while she was sucking off a second cat. Once Jon tried to get his cock in from the front while I was fucking her in the ass and she was blowing Horse. It didn't work out, and Jon got mad and made her jerk him off with her free hand.
"You can bet that chick was glad to stay with the black meat from there on. Matter of fact, I used to go over and fuck her once a week or so. She cut out though, and the last we heard, she was up in Frisco, working as a go-go dancer and peddling her ass on the side.
"There were a lot of things like that. Once we caught a cocksucker fooling around with the little brother of one of the guys in the gang, and we gave him one hell of a good gang bang. The only thing wrong with that was he enjoyed it-at least, the first part. When we found out that you couldn't wear this guy out with black cocks up his ass-hole, or shoved down his throat, we shoved a pop bottle up his ass until he bled like a stuck pig. One of the guys made him rinse out his mouth with some lye that had been diluted with a little water. I'll bet that cat didn't suck any pricks for a year, or have anybody corn-hole him either. For good measure, we also burned his prick with cigarette butts and matches so he couldn't even jerk off without passing out from the pain.
"But the real gang bangs-the ones I liked-were different. There wasn't anything mean about those, baby. You know, we always had a bunch of white cunts hanging around us. Some of them were on the 'equality and brotherhood' kick; others were show-offs, or were trying to spite their parents or boyfriends, but most of them were just plain hung-up on black boys. I don't know if it's true, but I guess all white girls-and a lot of white guys, too-think that us blacks have bigger cocks than do the white men. Maybe so, because I've had a lot of white gals come back for me.
"On weekends, these white chicks would head for our hangout. We had a hot piano player there, and the owner wasn't fussy about identification. Besides, we all had phony draft cards and drivers' licenses just in case the fuzz did show up, which they never did-not in that part of town on a weekend! When the joint would close, along about five in the morning, we'd head for the club-the one I described before. By that time, everybody would be high on booze, and sometimes pot or 'H,' and the place would really swing.
"One of the guys stole a Polaroid camera, and we used to take pictures. We'd get a lot of laughs out of voting for the best position or combination. Man, we dreamed up some that even those crazy Orientials never tried, I'll bet. And we had real games-like this one: Two broads would lie down on the couch, both on their backs, one on top of the other. Then a guy would get on top, and while the others watched to make sure he didn't cheat, he'd shove his cock into each cunt, alternating with every shove-first into the top cunt, then into the bottom. The gal who finally got to him, and made him finish his come job in her cunt, got to pick anybody in the room. And that one, girl or guy, had to do whatever she told him to-suck her pussy, fuck her in any position she wanted, or anything else.
"Another one that we used to pull was a 'come contest.' Some of us guys who were working and had a little dough, used to bet on it. We'd draw names out of a hat for the girls, then we'd lay double bets. All the bets were put in a pool, and the guy that came first got half. It didn't matter much, because most of the dough would go to buy booze for the bunch.
"The white chicks had a favorite game too. We'd put one of them stripped naked, on the couch with her legs spread and her hands stretched out over her head. Then we'd blindfolded her, and one by one, each guy would go up, lick her cunt a little, then shove his cock inside her a few times but not enough to make him come. Then, she'd have to guess whose cock and tongue it had been. If she guessed right, the guy had to go down on her and give her a real pussy-licking until she came. They were wild about having their pussies kissed. A couple of them were two-way swingers and they liked girls to kiss their cunts as well as guys.
"It might sound funny, but I met my wife-to-be at a gang bang. It was my last one, as you can guess. I didn't know her when she showed up with this Eddie. He was a sharp cat and he'd gotten her pretty loaded. She was only fourteen, and she wouldn't go for any cunt feeling or fucking in his car, so he had brought her over to the club. She was scared stiff when she saw all those naked cocks, and the white and black chicks fucking and sucking, and she started to scream and get hysterical. Eddie slapped the hell out of her and tore off her dress, which made me mad. I won't say I've never busted a cherry, but I just couldn't see doing it that way. I clobbered Eddie good, and we fought all the way down the stairs and into the alley. He had brass knuckles on and he chopped me up pretty good. He was going for a hunk of pipe that he had all taped up like a blackjack and I know he was about ready to beat my skull in when this chick suddenly appeared between us. She'd grabbed a milk bottle from somewhere and she belted him a dandy. The bottle smashed on his thick head and then she started raking his face with the part of the broken bottle that she still had clutched in her hand. I almost had to knock her down to keep her from cutting him up completely.
"We laugh about it now, but it wasn't funny then. I still remember her standing there in her torn panties, wildly swinging this bottle at Eddie. Corylee is a lot of woman and I play it straight with her. I have to. I can still see the look on her face when she cut into Eddie. I hate to imagine what she'd do to a chick or to me if she ever caught me fucking around.
"I don't know how the marriage will turn out. I'm going to work at it. I know that. And Corylee is a good girl. She was a virgin, like I thought. Of course, I've taught her all my favorite ways. I think she'll be able to keep me satisfied since she loves it as much as I do.
"I won't go for any of that sex orgy stuff or mate-swapping after we're married. I had a taste of that, and it disgusts me to think about it. I almost forgot about that one-it was a gang bang any way you looked at it.
"My older brother is married to this fat slob and since he's no toothpick himself, they got pretty tired of all that fat fucking after a couple of years. Jim had read about these orgy clubs and he got a bunch of other meatheads who were bored with their mates to try it out-a wife-swapping shindig. I didn't know anything about it until after the third time. He called me at work and said that he wanted me to come over to a party they were having, and that they would have a girl for me. It happened that one of the married cats was sick, so he told his wife to go alone, and Jim wanted me to fill his place.
"This married chick had made passes at me for years-even before she was married. It was she who had asked my brother to invite me!
"We started off by playing strip poker after we'd all had a few drinks. Then, when everybody was naked, they picked a guy's name out of a hat and he sat out. The rest played draw poker-three 'legs' to win the pot. That means whoever won the first three pots got to go on the couch with the guy who was the pot. If a guy won it, he could either take the guy or sell him to one of the women-not for money but for a suck or fuck.
"Wouldn't you know my name was first! And who wins the damned three pots first but my fat sister-in-law. I didn't think she'd have the nerve, right there in front of my brother, but Jim was laughing like a dumb ass-hole when she walked over to the couch and began to play with my cock. Everybody else held up the game to watch, and even if she did weigh about 160 pounds and was sweating like a pig, she gave me a real workout. She sucked my cock until I'd come once and got another hard on and then she wanted to sixty-nine.
"I didn't want to be chicken, although it bothered me with my brother watching us, so I thought 'what the hell' and went down on her while she gobbled my prick. Man, how she loved to eat the giggy! I came twice to her once. Then I dropped out of the game and got drunk. I didn't want to see my brother's face, the stupid sonofa-bitch!
"Then my name was in the pot again, and this chick that's on the hot for me wins. I told her to go to hell, that I wasn't providing any fucking show for that bunch of dummies, but that didn't put her down. She just dragged me into the bedroom and before I knew it, she's trying to swallow my cock. Even though I was half-loaded, she got me hard pretty quick and really gave me the works. I fucked her front and back and then to top it off, she sucked me off again!
"Don't get me wrong-the chicks at that affair weren't all that way but I think there's something shitty about a guy watching another guy fuck his wife, or a husband eat some other dame's pussy. I swing, but I won't go that route, and if Corylee suggests it, I'll bust her up good!"
Beulah H. is another community resident, but she is not a homegrown product. Beulah came to the area when she was thirteen, fresh from a grubby sharecropper's shack in Mississippi. There she had almost starved, along with her nine brothers and sisters. Her mother's brother had a good job in Los Angeles, and had always favored Beulah. When he sent for her, her parents were glad to let Beulah go to live with him. For years, the gang bang was a way of life for her and the reason why she became a lesbian are in the following account.
"Back home in Mississippi, I don't remember when a bunch of boys weren't monkeying around-feeling my pussy, sticking their fingers in it, and making me take their peckers in my hand or in my mouth. All I ever knew was tit-grabbing, feeling around and fucking-even from my brothers.
"I guess the first time I had what you call multiple sex was when I was twelve. I used to work on weekends at the house of the people my daddy sharecropped for. Me and my sister Elly would mop, dust, wash clothes, help can food and anything else they wanted, for a dollar a week.
"The very first time I was there, the man who owned the place fucked me and my sister-in the same bed on the same night! Back there, you don't accuse any white man of rape like you might do here. He gave us an extra quarter every time he screwed us after that.
"He had two sons-twins-who were away at school. Some big religious college. Ain't that a laugh, though! This Bible-pounding, church-going fucker who crawled into the hay with a twelve-year-old and made her a prostitute by giving her a whole two bits!
"The sons came home for the summer, and that's when I first learned what a gang bang is. The old man set those kids of his on to us the very first night they were home! We were sent to bed early in a sort of a shed at the back of the house. We hadn't even blown out the lamp when the two boys came in. They were about eighteen, I think, and they didn't say a word. One came over to my bunk and the other went to my sister's. They sure made lots of noise after they got in bed with us. They kept saying dirty things like, 'How'd you like a nice white cock in that slit of yours, nigger baby?'
"First, the one made me put his cock in my mouth while he was facing down and sticking his finger in my cunt. I could have come all right, but he was choking me with his cock so far down my throat. The old man hadn't tried to do that to us, but we didn't know that he was watching it all through the window and later he tried it plenty. When the first one finished coming in my mouth, he made me swallow the come and then keep on sucking his dick until it got hard again. Then he spread me out on my back and stuck that big, hard, white prong into me. Believe it or not, his cock was bigger than his old man's. It hurt at first, but when I got used to it, I worked my ass good-he had his hands under my ass cheeks-and I came pretty good.
"Then they changed off, with the other brother fucking me. This time I was on my hands and knees while he mounted me from the back. I didn't know what he was going to do, and I almost fainted when he jammed that big cock up my ass-hole. I'd been screwed before, but never in the ass-hole, and he slapped his hand over my mouth to cover up my screams. I heard my sister scream too, and she said later that that was also what the other brother had done to her. The only good thing about it was that he came quick.
"But we weren't through yet. The old man came in and they made us suck all three of them off. Then the old man fucked me while the brothers took turns on Elly.
"I didn't dare tell my daddy. It might have got him killed if he'd tried to do anything about it. But I was glad when my Uncle Ben wanted me to come to California and live with him. I didn't know it then, but I was only headed for more of the same.
"I remembered how my Uncle Ben had played with me, between my legs, when he lived in Mississippi. Once he'd taken my clothes off and put his fingers and then his tongue in my slit. I was about nine, I think. But I'd forgotten all that in the excitement of going to live in California. I also forgot that Ben had married a widow woman with five kids-all boys.
"You can guess what happened. I wasn't there more than three nights when Ben came into my room. He slid the latch shut on the door, came over to my bed and took off his pants. I pretended to be asleep, but he started to kiss my breasts-I slept naked-and run his finger inside my slit. In spite of being a little scared, I got worked up pretty hot and I reached out and jerked his cock a few times. He started kissing me and in a minute, he had it shoved into me. like I said, I was pretty hot, and I worked right along with him. We both came good, and then he got down between my legs and began to lick and suck my cunt, while he played with my titties with one hand. He made me come again, real good, and when he turned around, I didn't mind taking his cock into my mouth and giving him a good suck job.
"Two of the boys were fifteen and fourteen, and the other three were twelve, eleven and nine. Before the week was out, both of the older ones had been in bed with me and the twelve-year-old had sucked my pussy while he jerked himself off. Later on, the three oldest ones got me alone one Sunday while everybody else was at church, and we had a real gang bang. I sucked Jody's cock while Albert, the oldest, fucked me. Then Louis, the second oldest, fucked me while Albert was sucking my cunt until I came.
"Uncle Ben found out about it-I think one of the younger kids squealed-but he didn't do much. He just told them to leave me alone, but they didn't. When it wasn't Uncle Ben, it was Albert, Louis or Jody. Then I got pregnant! I figured it had to be Ben, although it could have been Albert because he was sixteen by then. Anyway, that dirty bastard Ben had me sent to a home for delinquent girls! I had the baby but I never saw the poor bastard. Some people paid for the doctor and the hospital and adopted the kid.
"I spent a year in that home, and for the first time in my life, I knew what it was like to be loved! I know that square people will never understand it, but that's exactly what it was! Love! Sure, it was sexy love, and maybe it started out as just sex, but I met girls in there who know how to make love-because they knew how to feel love!
"When I left there, I got a job as a helper in the home of a wealthy couple. That's a racket as far as I'm concerned. These rich bitches come to a reform school or a home for delinquents and offer to give a home and small wages to 'help a poor girl get started again.' They expect that because you've been in trouble over sex, you're going to put out for anybody in the household-or their friends.
"They had a cook, two maids, a gardener and a chauffeur. Everyone, including the maids, tried to take a crack at me during the first month I was there. The cook was a Chinaman, and he offered to pay me if I'd let him fuck me. I brushed him off good. The gardener was an older guy, and he was sneaky. He tried to butter me up, but he finally made his grab-right for my snatch. I clouted him with a mop and told the boss what he'd done, but they didn't fire him, they just told him to keep away from me. The chauffeur was colored, and he thought that he had first call. But he was decent. He was willing to take me to the movies and to dinner, but he expected to get paid back in bed. I didn't want any man, not then, and I don't now. I'd never met a decent one in my life.
"The maids were French, and they were lesbians.
I guess I already suspected that the first day. Later I was sure because none of the men, including the old bastard who had hired me, made any passes at them although were pretty and kind of sexy-looking. They must have spotted me for one, because on my first night off they invited me to their room. They spoke pretty good English, and we drank and talked a while. They knew that I'd been in a home for delinquents, and they knew why. After a while, they just came right out and asked if I was 'one of them,' as they put it.
"I was dying for some sex with a girl. They were sympathetic and sweet to me. Both said they had never had a colored girl, and when I let them undress me, I felt good all over. They worked on me together-one kissed my breasts and neck and mouth, while the other spread my legs and stuck her tongue inside my cunt. Then she worked her finger deep inside me while she sucked on my love bump. Later, I sucked them both, but it was never alone. While I was working on one, the other would be doing it to me.
"The Chinaman must spied on us, because he brought the boss up one night and he busted in on us. We were in a tangle, everybody kissing someone else's pussy, and he just stood there with a shit-eating grin, watching us. When I got up-I was stark naked-he just grabbed me by the hand and yanked me out the door, towards his room at the end of the hall. I didn't know what to do. I knew the maids couldn't help me and I thought of screaming for the chauffeur but I knew he wouldn't risk his job for me. So I just went into his room. He surprised me by digging out two twenty dollar bills and stuffing them into my hand. Then he stripped.
"I thought I might as well go ahead and try. And when he dived between my legs like a starving man and started sucking and licking, it worked me up a little because he'd interrupted us before I'd had a chance to come even once. I moved my hips and ass so that he could really get his tongue in and when he wriggled around so that he was able to get his cock in my face. I went along with that. He didn't know much about sucking a woman's cunt, but I guided his finger up inside me, and managed to come just as he came inside my mouth.
"He had a small cock for a big man, although he was kind of fat. By the time he finished licking my cunt, I was in the mood for a straight man-fuck again, so I let him put it in. He worked like a horse, but he couldn't go deep enough to do me any good, and he wasn't riding me high enough to hit my love bump. But I pretended to come when he did and that made him happy.
"He used to sneak up to my room a lot after that, and I'd put on the act for him. He always gave me money, and I salted it away. Then I started going out with Ray, the chauffeur. I was always crazy about dancing, and he was a sharp dancer. He taught me all the latest dances. One night, when we were in this club we liked because of the wild band they had, the manager came over and asked me if I'd fill in for one of the go-go dancers who hadn't shown up. All I had to do was put on a skimpy costume and appear on the raised stage for twenty minutes out of each hour.
"Ray was all for it. He was kind of proud to be with such a good dancer, I guess. Besides, he knew about the boss fucking me, and he wanted me to get away from that house. I'd been letting him suck my pussy a lot, while I sucked him off, but he hurt me when he tried straight fucking so I had only let him try that once.
"The guy offered me twenty dollars for four appearances, and it sounded good to me. That was all I made in a week-not counting my board and room and fuck money. The audience liked me and I got a kick out of having them admire me. It wasn't just the guys. The girls looked at my shape a lot more, I think. Guys concentrate on your pussy and your breasts, but girls look at your arms and your legs and your ass.
"I left my number in case the girl didn't show up some other night, and the manager called me the next day to work again. I had to make a decision, because I only had two nights off each week, so I told him I would if he'd put me on regular. I guess he was in a pinch because he said he would.
"I worked there for five weeks and got an apartment in town with two of the other dancers. They were lesbians and we started having sex the first night. That bastard of a boss-the first guy I'd worked for-reported me to the authorities, and they sent a parole officer to check up on me. But I didn't drink, and I was working, and I wasn't shacked up with any man, so he reported that I was doing all right. Besides, I told him that my old boss had been making all kinds of tries at getting me into bed and I had to leave.
"One of the girls I lived with got me an agent. I worked my first big job up in San Francisco, on Broadway, where all the swinging dives are. I've been to Seattle, San Diego, Berkeley and now I'm the featured dancer at one of the big strip clubs in L.A.
"I don't mind stripping. I have nothing but pity for the poor bastards who are so hard up that they have to come to a club to watch a girl take off her clothes and wiggle her titties. Most of the girls I've worked with are real swingers. They date men, but they go home to sleep with another girl. I still date men, but it's strictly for money. You'd be surprised how many guys want to 'change their luck' by fucking a black woman. But they pay for it. I charge a hundred bucks a night, take it or leave it. But I give them their money's worth. I go the whole route-anything but up the ass-hole. That's out. If they insist, I just make fun of them, saying that any guy who'd be fool enough to pass up a good cunt-fuck for an ass job must be a queer. That usually quiets them down. Oh, I blow them and let them screw me in the cunt from the rear, and all that-I even go sixty-nine-but none of that ass-boring bit for this gal.
"Marriage? What for? I can have all the sex I want, any way I want it, without any complications, so why should I settle for one guy or one gal. Oh sure, lesbians 'marry,' or at least they live together as if they were married, but I play the field. I don't hate men, but I sure as hell wouldn't want to be always tied down to the same one. I make pretty good dough as a dancer, and I pick up a lot on the side from men. I don't solicit, but I'm available if they have the hundred. I'm not a boozer and I don't go the pot or dope route, so I sock a lot of the dough away. I'm not going to wind up on the streets as a two-bit whore, I'll tell you.
"There's big black population in L.A. Maybe someday I'll invest in a dress shop or a beauty parlor-maybe even a bar. I know one thing-I won't have to sell my ass for a couple of bucks when I quit dancing. I've got too much on the ball. I'm living the way I want to, and I'm going to keep on that way."
Prominent sociologists would point out that the path this girl took is understandable, almost to the point of being called natural. An eminent psychologist states: "For the minority groups, there is as yet little hope of attaining the top economic rung in commercial areas. This accounts for the high percentage of professional black athletes; boxers, basketball, baseball and football players. A girl has a much more limited field. It is either the entertainment business, or prostitution. True, many office positions are now being filled by black girls, but I have rarely been able to find any supervisory positions open to them. We have seen a rash of colored female dancers, singers, actresses and strippers in the past few years. Here, the field opens up because of the merit. All others have severe limitations as to how far a woman may climb.
"In the case of the young lady cited, her unconscious hatred of males, in spite of her statement to the contrary, is understandable. She did not go into detail, but she did mention that her own father and brothers had had sexual relations with her. Incest is very often a strong springboard toward lesbianism and prostitution. Her later treatment by men further drove her to lesbianism, and at least a form of prostitution.
"As a psychologist, I would have to say that this girl has done remarkably well, all factors considered. I believe that as time passes she may well take her place in the black community as a constructive, productive human being."
CHAPTER FOUR
Schoolgirls ... And Lesbians
That the multiple sex idea is an offshoot of the sexual revolution may be partly true, but in certain institutions, the gang bang is "old hat." The account of Pat W. tells of one such institution which is often overlooked because it is cloaked in ivy-covered secrecy and in the respectability of wealth and prestige. This is the gang bang sex that takes place in most, if not all, girls' schools.
"I guess my mother knew what sort of 'higher education' I'd get at school," began Pat. "After all, she spent four sexy, glorious years there herself. But a lot of new things have been added now, and the old gal would be surprised if she were to go back.
"Not that it was all that new to me. I'd put in several years at a fashionable school in Virginia, where I'd learned all the ground rules of the sex games they play in school. I had my first screw when I was twelve, but I'd had a lot of 'lip service' from the gals and teachers, long before that. Know what 'lip service' is? That's what we used to call cunnilingus-or, in plain language, going down on a woman.
"But I'm not a lesbian. I had enough of that when I was caged up with nothing but girls. I like men. In fact, the more the merrier, with both sexes.
"I guess it started back in that school, although I'd had kids fool around with me since I was about ten, and my breasts were beginning to show. Maybe that's why people go for this sex orgy bit; they have sex too young and have too much of it. They get bored with one man or one woman, or with just one or two positions. I know that I couldn't go back to live like I did with my first husband, Dick. What a creep he was sexually! For him, a daring idea was to ask me to kneel on my hands and knees while he did it 'dog fashion.' Then he'd mope around for days afterwards, feeling guilty as hell. I don't know what I ever saw in him, but I sure couldn't take that life again.
"To get back to the school-I was entered there when I was almost eleven. It was sort of like a junior high, in subjects covered, but it was for girls only-and for rich girls only, needless to add.
"You shared a room there with three other girls, and I sure got myself a group. The first few nights were spent in sex education, and the kind you don't read about in the sex manuals, either. They broke my cherry the first night-and I mean that literally. Up until then, the only actual sex I'd had was masturbating, but I grew up fast at that school. The other three girls had all been together for two years, and they were older-fourteen and fifteen.
"They planned a surprise party for me, I guess, because when I came out of the shower that night, there were two of them, stark naked on the bed, kissing each other's breasts and playing with each other's pussy with their fingers. It was supposed to shock me, but it didn't, really. Actually, I was fascinated, as most young girls are, by the size and beauty of the breasts of older girls. I had pretty nice breasts, but not too much pubic hair, and as I stood there drying my hair, I guess my pussy looked pretty wide-open and fresh to those expert sexpots. But I wanted to act cool, so I just went on drying my hair, watching them as they got hotter and hotter.
"Then Thelma, the unoccupied one, came over and took the towel from me. She pulled me down on her lap and pulled my head back on her breasts, while she dried my hair. With my naked butt close to her snatch, and her naked flesh lined up with mine in so many places, and all the while watching the other two on the bed, it was easy for me to get hot.
"The pair on the bed were doing something that puzzled me-at that time, anyhow. They were lying face to face, with their breasts and pubic areas touching, and while they engaged in deep tonguing kisses, they kept rubbing together-faster and harder as they got hotter and hotter. I found out later that some girls can actually come that way, but I never could. My clitoris doesn't stick out that much, or something. But they didn't try for a climax that way. When they were all hot and wet, Doris began kissing Sheila's breasts, while she manipulated her clitoris with her fingers. Just as I thought that Sheila was going to have an orgasm, Doris moved down and spread the lips of Sheila's pussy, and she began to lick it and play with her breast with one hand while with the other she was massaging her ass.
"I got so carried away watching what they were doing that I hardly noticed that Thelma's hand was on my breast. The towel was forgotten, and with one hand she was rubbing the lips of my pussy, and every once in a while, she would run her finger in and contact my clitoris. She was sticking her tongue into my ear, and finally I couldn't stand it any longer. I half-turned, and shoved my hand down to her pussy. It was all wet and juicy, and I ran my finger inside and found that little knob and worked on it. Meantime, I turned my lips to hers and opened my mouth, and she put her tongue inside my mouth, sucking and working it around. All the time she was massaging my nipple and working like crazy on that 'man in the boat,' and the first thing I knew, she eased me down on the floor and spread my legs and began using her tongue and her fingers on my pussy. She would massage the clitoris with her tongue, while she shoved her fingers deeper inside me, until she hit another sensitive spot. I spread my legs and wrapped them around her shoulders, so my cunt opened wider to her kisses and her fingers. Then I came! It was like a shower of skyrockets had burst inside me-nothing like what had happened when I used to do it to myself. And all I wanted was for her to do it again and again-and let me go down and taste the sweetness of her pussy, and make her as ecstatically happy as she was making me.
"Thelma kept on licking and fingering, until I was wild with passion again. Then she did a reverse twist and ended up squatting over my face. I'll never forget that first time I looked up into that red, wet inviting box. I swear, I could almost see it throb with desire for my tongue. I grabbed Thelma and pulled her down on my mouth, spreading the lips of her pussy with my fingers-sticking my tongue in and then my finger-trying so hard to find the joyful ways to make her come, that she had found inside me.
"Meantime, the other two stopped and were watching. When I had made Thelma come, Sheila came over and laughed down at me. 'You're going to be all right, baby,' she laughed, 'how about me next?'
"I don't think I slept a wink that first night. I made each of them come again, and each of them worked on me until I came. We didn't try any daisy chain stuff that night, but we talked about it, and I was so wound up with excitement and anticipation-would you believe-I actually had to masturbate before I went to sleep!
"I was sore the next morning, but I was as happy as a lark. I had found a place where people liked me and wanted and needed me, and where I felt I belonged.
"I was wrong, of course. They were all real lesbians. Later, I discovered that men are much more fun than women, in most ways. Oh, I still go to bed with a woman occasionally, but I much prefer men. The only way I really enjoy sex with a woman, these days, is when it's a real swinging party, with both men and women in the game. And, I will admit, when it comes to having your pussy sucked real good, a woman will always be able to do a better job than a man. Maybe it's because she knows all the tiny little spots to hit, that gives that added something to a suck job, because she's built that way herself.
"But I didn't discover how it was with boys until two years later. And when I did, I got out of the clique of lesbians. It happened there at the school. We had some male workers there-the gardener and the maintenance men, all that. And we had three janitors.
"This one man was crippled. He had a real bad leg, so about three nights a week, and always on Saturday, his son would come along to help him. The son was about nineteen and he was in college.
He was a real hunk of man, and all the girls in school who weren't lesbians were dying to get a crack at him. I outsmarted them all-I played up to his father. Not sexually, but I got the old boy feeling sorry for me. I told him wild stories about me being an orphan, all that jazz, and he fell for it. He told his son what a nice, lonely little girl he'd begun talking to, and the next thing, the son was being nice to me.
"He was really a nice kid. I shouldn't have been like I was with him, I guess. Anyhow, he told me he was a psychology major and wanted to become a sociologist when he graduated. I told him that I was afraid of the girls I roomed with, because they used to make sexy passes at me, and even offered outright to 'go down on me.' I guess it shocked him at first, but it did what I wanted it to do-it got him all hot for me. The more I talked about the lesbians, the hotter he got, until one night, I met him in the teachers' lounge. He had the key, of course, and he let me in.
"I no sooner got inside than he was all over me, kissing me and feeling my breasts and my ass cheeks. He rubbed hard against me, and I could feel his stiff, wonderful rod through his pants. He kept kissing me and moaning, and finally I reached down and unzipped his pants and took it out. When I began to stroke it and handle it, I thought he'd go crazy. He almost tore my panties off, he was so hot and eager. When he shoved it into me, I was wet and ready, but it hurt a little. After he pushed a few hard strokes, I felt his warm, sticky come inside me. I begged him not to stop, and kissed him as hotly as I could, and he kept a good hard on, and kept on pumping, only this time he was slower and more concerned with me and what I needed.
"He must have taken five minutes, that first time he made me come, and when he did, I yelled in delight. I really did. He had to smother my hollering with his mouth on mine. Then he began to kiss my breasts and stomach, working down and down, all the time, until I grabbed his hair with both my hands and pushed his mouth down on my hot, demanding little box! When he made me come that way, it wasn't quite as good as with the girls, but he more than made up for it when he mounted me again-this time from the back. He shoved it in so deep in that position that I thought it would hit my tonsils on the way through me, and I came like I didn't dream was possible.
"I didn't know much about it, but I guess it came naturally because I just took his rigid staff in my hand and began to lick and suck it, taking it deeper into my mouth with each stroke. When he shot a stream into my mouth, his cock was so deep inside that I had to swallow it. I got a kick out of it. I drained him dry and left him moaning with pleasure.
"I thought I'd be a big heroine when I told the girls about my conquest, but they acted disgusted with me. For weeks they wouldn't let me into the bed games at all. I couldn't understand it, because Sheila had often had Thelma use a dildo on her, and she seemed to like to come that way. I finally told them to go to hell, and I started with Tony, three or four nights a week. He used to love to hear me tell about the lesbian bit, and one night, mostly to get even with them, and partly because I wanted Tony to see it, I sneaked him into our room. I hid him while the rest were having supper, because I knew they were going to start something right after. I could always tell when Shelia was horny, and in a way, she was the leader of our room-she was the oldest, and also, a little on the tough, mannish side.
"I had a six-foot cardboard wardrobe closet in the corner by my bed and I hid Tony there. Sure enough, along about seven, Sheila took a shower and gave Thelma and Doris the eye, and they stripped and washed all over while she was showering.
"You know, that's something that's important to a lesbian-being clean and not smelly inside. They put on a real three-way show that night-to spite me, you know-and Tony almost blew his cork, cooped up in that tiny closet. I suppose he had a hard on; and he may have even taken a few whacks at his cock-I don't know. Anyhow, I waited until all three of them had formed a cute little daisy chain, then I opened the door and told Tony to come out.
"He was so damned confused he could only head for the door. And that damned Sheila-she beat the living hell out of me for that. Next day, I had to appear before the dean, charged with trying to sneak a boy into my room! Naturally, I wasn't going to blow the whistle on the whole scene-I was having too much fun. I talked my way out of it, and they transferred me to another room-and this time, I ended up with two dames that were as straight as stuffed shirts, but they knew how to sneak out for dates with boys, and I just got into that act.
"I fit in with the sexy ones all right, and until I left that school, I had sex with both boys and girls all the time. Then, when I went to my mother's alma mater, I was really one of the leaders, even though I was a freshman. I'd say the school was almost fifty percent lesbians and the other half both ways-the bisexual bit.
"I admit, I was a little surprised the first day. The dean of women called me into her office after I'd checked in. She had some records in front of her, and she was a cold-faced, mannish-looking dame, but with a good shape.
" 'Patricia,' she said without ceremony, 'it seems that you engaged in sex affairs at your last school-with both males and females. True?'
"I told her it was none of her business, and she surprised me by smiling warmly and coming over to where I was seated. She took my hand and said, 'Yes, I'm afraid it is, my dear. When a girl comes here, who has known the sweet and sensible love that a woman can give to another woman, I try to-shall we say, look out for her. Do you know what I mean?'
"I knew what she meant, all right, and although she wasn't any young chick, I thought it wouldn't do any harm to have a good friend in one of the top positions at the school, so I went along. I just stood up, slid her hand to my breast and I hugged her close, rubbing my knob up against her while I stuck my tongue in her mouth. I guess she wasn't used to anyone being that brassy, and she was a pushover. I had my hands up under her dress and was rubbing her pussy with my fingers before she knew it, and she began to get wet and hot in a minute.
"Then I pushed her away and laughed. 'I think you and I will get along fine,' I told her. She straightened her dress and went back to her desk, smiling like a bird who has just feathered its nest.
" 'All right, dear,' she cooed, checking some lists, 'tell me where you'd like to room. Would you prefer to be in with some of the, ah-more experienced girls, or would you like to-shall we say-do a little recruiting?'
"I had learned to be pretty aggressive in the sex game, and I chose to be put in a room with some 'straight' virgins-at least they weren't broken in as lesbians yet. As I left, the dean gave me her big smile and said, 'If you need anything, Pat, please call on me.'
"As it turned out, she saved my ass many times, and she was pretty good in the hay, too. I didn't make out with the chicks I roomed with for the first three weeks, and I got pretty hot a couple of times, so I paid a couple of visits to my friend at the top. The faculty lived in one large building, and after the first time the dean and I had sex, she asked me if I'd mind two or three other teachers at the next session. By then, I'd really begun to miss the sex orgies, and I welcomed the idea. From there on, about once a week, she and I and three other teachers used to have sex parties. Naturally, I never had to worry about my marks, and I also had a lot of free time away from school. The dean had wised me up to major in sociology, and anytime I wanted to be away, it was marked down as a 'field project' in sociology.
"I had a ball. One of the girls that was in my room was a cute redhead, sweet, dumb, beautiful. She was ripe for some sex. She'd come from a real religious family and had honestly not had any sex at all-and she was eighteen! I almost masturbated, just watching her undress at night. Marge was legitimately majoring in sociology, and I seduced her the first time we made a 'field trip.' I invited her along to spend a night in the city with me.
"In the city we went to a restaurant and had a few cocktails and a nice dinner. Then we went to our hotel room and watched TV. I finally undressed and told Marge I was going to take a shower and hit the hay. But I stood in front of the mirror naked, and felt my breasts and ass. I could see her getting fidgety, glancing at me sideways, and I asked her if she thought I had nice breasts, and if my body was attractive.
"She blushed a little when she told me that she thought I had beautiful breasts and a body that could belong to a professional model.
"I told her to go ahead and shower, while I fooled with my hair, and she seemed really eager to get out of her clothes and stand near me naked. I was almost drooling, watching her. She felt her breasts and half-turned, looking over her shoulder at her pretty, round little ass.
" "Talk about beautiful bodies,' I said, moving close to her and putting my hand on the curve of her ass, 'you've got one of the loveliest shapes I've ever seen.' I could feel her respond to my touch, and when I put my hand on her breast, lightly moving my palm over her pink nipple, she gasped and almost jumped into my arms. She began to kiss my neck and my mouth, and I put my arms around her and ran my hands over her fanny, tickling her ass-hole a little, and rubbing my cunt against hers.
"We went to bed, and she was so excited that, when I put my fingers on her pussy, she was all juicy and hot-panting for me to take her. And here I was supposed to be the one that was doing the leading!
"She was a sweet one. She would shudder with pleasure every time I kissed any part of her body. When I kissed and sucked her nipples, she grabbed my head and kissed my hair, letting me know with every part of her body that she wanted me to suck her cute, virgin pussy! I gave her the gentle tease, working my mouth and hands tenderly, until she was begging me to finish her off.
"When I finally spread the lips of her pussy and gently began to tickle the clitoris and the lips, I almost came in my own hand. I was masturbating a little, although I didn't really need it. This was my first virgin, remember, and it was all that everyone had told me it would be. She went wild when I put one finger inside her, deep, while I used my tongue to work on her love bump. She grabbed me by the hair and really hurt, but I didn't mind it. By the time she was through with her second orgasm, she was wild to get at me. She was rough and a little off-target, but she more than made up for it in willingness when she spread my legs and went into me with tongue and fingers. After I came, we tried it together-you know, the sixty-nine bit-and she was wonderful. She took her lead from my moves, and when I came at the same time she did, it was one of the best I'd ever had.
"She cried afterwards, and kept moaning about what a 'sinner' she was, and what 'perverted' ideas of the devil she had succumbed to. But she couldn't deny that she had enjoyed it, and before morning, we'd had each other twice more, and she was really hooked. Feel bad? Not me. After all, why should anyone feel bad or guilty for steering another person on to a good thing-and, for a lot of women, lesbian sex is the best they'll ever know.
"I don't know what happened to her after she left school, but while she was there, she was one of the hottest lays in the place. She was popular with the lesbians, and she was also liked by the straight bunch, because she was really serious about this psychology and sociology stuff, and she had brains and compassion. I'll bet that if she did become a social worker, she was a hell of a good one.
"Anyway, by that time I really had a liking for grab-bag sex-you know, the mob scene. When I became an advertising executive, I never had any problems getting all the offers of sex that I wanted, from both guys and gals. Frankly, I was bored making it with just one guy or one gal at a time.
"It was easy for me to hire lesbians, and it was just as easy to hire some hot cocksmen. The second they raised their eyebrows at finding a sexy, young chick in charge of the art and layout department, I knew they were available. I put together some great sex sessions just from the personnel at my advertising agency.
"I'm firmly convinced that all of the so-called 'swingers' are really bisexuals. I found a few straight lesbians, so maybe I should change it and say that all the male swingers I've known are two-way sexpots. Maybe it's a feature of the advertising business, I don't know, but almost all the guys I worked with or for, went for men as well as women.
"Men-they are all either pussy-whipped or money-whipped. They would do anything for a piece of ass or for a buck; and yet, they call women the prostitutes! Men would suck a cock or a pussy or a dirty ass-hole-if it would get them a good 'come' or a couple of bucks! I guess, in a way, I respect whores and lesbians the most, because at least you know where they both stand. One sells it to men for money ;the other wouldn't spit sells it to men for money; the other wouldn't spit most of the time. Frankly, I love everything about sex. I love 'em all: cocks, ass-holes, pussies, titties, balls and the whole bit. Put 'em all together and that's how I like it best!"
Although a successful executive, Pat was close to-if not already-an alcoholic. She was constantly drunk during the interviews, and personal friends of hers verified that she was an around-the-clock drinker, as well as a woman who was ready to hit the hay at the drop of a hat.
We presented Pat's case to a prominent sexologist and his opinion was that, despite Pat's love of sex orgies and her promiscuity with both sexes, she is a classic man-hater, and furthermore, an extreme bisexual nymphomaniac! She is obviously never satisfied with sex, from whatever source, and she probably will never be. She can only imagine herself in the driver's seat-and, like millions of women, has never learned to truly give of herself. She cares little for the gratification of her sex partner, yet she herself cannot find fulfillment in the sex act. Pat, as well as many thousands of others, has never learned to participate in sex-she has no involvement other than that of personal, physical satisfaction.
The prognosis for her is not a sexually healthful one. She has one hope: to meet and fall in love with a man who loves her. But-she must so love him that he will come first in all things. He must assuredly come first in sex gratification. It is a foregone conclusion that only if she puts his sex interest first, will he be able to bring her to complete gratification. If he is able to do this, then Pat may become a full, self-satisfied woman who could provide a wonderful life for the right man.
CHAPTER FIVE
Strippers ... And Grab-bag Sex
"I think there is a lot of narcissism involved. Most strippers love their bodies more than the men in the audience...! "
A featured Oriental Stripper.
Narcissism is the love of one's own body. In the extreme, it becomes almost a fetish. It is different from autoeroticism, which is the self-stimulation of the genital organs, in that the narcissistic individual gets extreme pleasure merely by looking at or touching his own body.
During the course of interviewing strippers and dancers, the author was impressed at the great number of women who exhibited a narcissistic complex. Many of them were eager to show off their fine breasts, their flat stomachs and well-shaped fannies; moreover, most of them actually went to great pains to point out that their skin was unblemished, creamy, and smooth.
Almost unconsciously, some women would caress their breasts lovingly as they pointed out their perfections, and many would run their hands gently over their fannies and their thighs as they invited inspection and admiration.
One noted stripper, Evelyn West, gained a billing gimmick and much publicity when she insured her breasts with Lloyds of London for $100,000. She calls her bosom "my treasure chest." An interesting sidelight is that Lloyds insisted on issuing two separate policies, one to cover each breast, rather than one policy covering the entire bosom. Said one manager, "That's silly. If Evelyn had something happen to one breast, she'd be finished. Who ever heard of a stripper with only one tit?"
"No doubt about it, the big-breasted broads make the top dough," said one successful stripper, an Oriental. "Tempest Storm, Blaze Starr-that's the kind of woman men want to see. I think it's a matter of bust. I'm skinny, and as far as breasts go I just get by, because Oriental girls aren't supposed to be buxom. Take Virginia Ball, she's less than five feet tall, but she has the bust of a seven-foot Amazon."
She herself does a demure Oriental strip, but eventually she ends up in pasties and a G-string. At first, she featured Balinese and Japanese dances, but she got smart to the fact that she could triple her earnings as a stripper. She worked the Peel Wheel for two years, then left to take night club engagements.
"Night clubs aren't as strong. They just want to see what's coming off next. And as far as I'm concerned, that's what it's all about-a tease. On the circuit, they want it raw. Snap out your G-string-that sort of thing. I won't go overboard. Anyhow, it doesn't bother me now. I'm much too involved with my family."
By contrast, consider a stripper named Maizie. Maizie is unmarried at present, although she has been twice wed and divorced. She has been from the bottom to the top in the Peel Wheel, and is currently on what she calls "The Last Strip," which is the featured peeler's spot in carnivals.
"I started out in a carny, as a dancer. In those days you didn't really have to strip, just shake your ass and tits real wild. But you were covered. Where the real money was made was in the 'come-on' show-you know, where the spieler comes out at the close of the regular performance and says that for another buck each, the 'real men' can stay and see a real strip show. In that one, we stripped to pasties and a G-string, and we really let go with the obscene gestures. Lots of grinds and bumps, what we called 'throwing it right in their faces.'
"At this come-on show, I've seen guys sit right there with a coat or a hat over their cocks, and play with themselves until they came. It bothered me at first. I thought sure they were going to proposition me, or make grabs at me, but they never did. I found out later that most of them wouldn't be able to keep a hard on if they got with a dame. They're what they call 'voyeurs' they can get their kicks out of watching a naked dame, or even a couple performing intercourse or sucking, but most of them only want to jerk themselves off.
"I used to get a kick out of it, being able to get these jokers all hotted up. And a funny thing-sometimes I'd get my own kicks from being able to do it to them. Not a real 'come' job for me, most of the time, but a real kick. Then I'd go a little overboard. I'd rub myself and give them some real good bumps. The motion of it often felt good to my pussy. I used to feature the 'ass-shimmy' a lot, and that made me get my rocks hot, too.
"At almost every show, some guy would holler, 'How much, baby?' But I was green then. I never went for it. I was saving it for the right guy, believe it or not. Oh, I wasn't a virgin, but I sure as hell wasn't a whore either. I had Stardust in my eyes about show business. I dreamed about making it big in burlesque, then maybe making it in the movies. And-I still believed that there were decent men; the kind who'd offer a wedding ring and all.
"My first husband was a burlesque comic. He was also the one that wiped the Stardust out of my eyes. I had been booked into a burlesque house in Seattle, and Larry was the featured comic. Funny, but when he was watching me perform, I got a special kick. The more the audience yelled and whistled, the wilder I'd get, but it was for Larry more than for the others. I actually came a couple of times while he was watching me."
Dr. Donald Arbagian, West Coast psychologist and Ph.D., notes that he has investigated several cases of narcissism where the person was able to have an orgasm without any heterosexual or homosexual contact. This involves an extremely egocentric makeup. "In many cases," Dr. Arbagian states, "this type of person may find himself impotent when he comes to the actual sex act because of egocentric thinking. The narcissistic person sees his own body as wonderful and complete, and when he discovers that it is not sexually self-sufficient, he may become neurotic and frustrated."
Famed stripper Georgia Southern said, "Any woman on the stage is selling sex, whether it's Helen Hayes or Shirley MacLaine or a stripper. But no good performer is thinking of the sex act. You are concentrating on a good performance."
Maizie does not completely agree with this. "Of course I'm thinking of sex," she said when Miss Southern's statement was brought up. "I'm not thinking of masturbating myself or of seeing myself half-naked, like the audience is seeing me. I'm thinking of another person and myself, involved in some sort of screwing or sucking. Sometimes it's a fantasy, sometimes it's a memory-the reliving of a particularly good fuck or suck job. I don't go for that jazz about the 'dedicated' stripper. What the hell-I'm in it for money and I feel I get a bonus because I can get some extra kicks out of what I do to arouse men-and women, too.
"Larry wanted me to marry him and try the night club circuit, the strip clubs that were coming up strong right after the war. We'd been screwing and blowing each other regular anyhow, and he wanted me to learn lines, so we could do a comedy-strip routine.
"After we were married, sex between the two of us began to get dull for me, no matter what way we tried it. I didn't realize it at the time, but I needed an audience, believe it or not! Later-two marriages later-I went to a headshrinker and he finally came right out and told me that!
"I should have known it, though, because we went to a drive-in movie once, and we got fooling around in the car and Larry went down on me. It was old stuff, and I wasn't especially excited, until I noticed that the couple in the next car were gawking at us and giggling. All at once, I got really hot. I grabbed Larry's head and really smothered him, and I kept talking to him to do it good. I had a quick, wildfire orgasm. It pleased Larry-he always felt more like a good man, I guess, when he could make me come real good.
"But I couldn't get much kick out of sex with him-until I caught him fucking this cheap stripper from Mexico. She worked with snakes-and they made me sick to my stomach. Anyhow, I walked into her room one night-she was staying in the same hotel we were, and was on the same bill with us, and there was Larry, screwing her from the back and pumping away like mad. She was moaning with pleasure and saying, 'Stick it in good, Larry-fuck me-fuck me deep and hard!' And he was doing just that. I guess I should have been wild with jealousy, but instead I got hot as hell. I only had a robe on, and I slipped out of it and walked over and knelt in front of Larry. 'OK, lover boy,' I told him, 'let's see if you're good enough to handle two women at once.'
"He let go of his hold on Lolita's ass and grabbed mine, pulling my cunt close to his face. I was wild, watching his prick going in and out of that dame, and the crazy, half-dopey look on her face. When Larry put his tongue inside my cunt, it took me less than a minute to come. Then I got mad! I pushed Larry off this dame and kicked her off the couch, and I laid down and spread my legs wide open, holding the lips of my cunt with my fingers. 'Now show this slut what a real woman can do!' I told him.
"Larry was so hot by then, he'd have screwed a bitch in heat, and he really went into me. Inside a couple of minutes, we both came together, with this dumb dame standing there, stark naked, watching us. When I came, I looked right into her eyes, and it was ten times as good!
"Afterwards, Larry sucked her off while he was fucking me, and that was good too.
"But you don't get chances like that often. Usually the girls in the show have their own boyfriends-or girlfriends-and not many go for 'party sex.' Besides, most of the girls were 'straight' and a lot of them were picking up side money as whores, and their men were acting as pimps.
"That's why Larry and I split up-he wanted me to peddle my ass. Oh, he tried to make it sound like it wasn't whoring, just because he wanted me to do it with an agent and a couple of club managers. In return we would get good, long-run bookings. I told him to go to hell, that I wasn't whoring for him or anyone else-not for a booking that I felt I could get strictly on my stripping talents, anyway.
"I know that most people think strippers are all tramps, and can't even feel love-nothing but sex-but that isn't true. We're still human, and at that time I still thought that the white knight in shining armor was going to come along. Maybe I even hoped it would be Larry, and he'd be changed by some good fairy with a magic wand. Magic wand ... hah!
"So we split up and he got a divorce later. He just went to Tijuana one day, when he was working a club in Los Angeles, and got a Mexican divorce.
"I went it alone after that. I got more raw, and got better bookings. I always did have the big titties they liked, and after I started to do the 'naked split,' I got good billing. The 'naked split' is where you wear a thin G-string while you do a split. Naturally, this shows a lot of pubic hair, and often it shows the lips of your cunt. It drives the guys out there wild. They think they've 'sneaked a peek'-sort of 'put one over on you' and got more for their money.
"They call it 'flashing' when you show hair, but the 'naked split' is a lot better. It really turns 'em on. And I get even bigger kicks when I see their faces. I can almost see through their hats or coats, whatever they have over their cocks, and watch them playing with their pricks-that I made stiff! Imagine, me getting a whole audience hard!
"But you have it tough when you do a good 'naked split.' A lot of the big strippers-the ones who pull that lady stripper' shit-they refuse to play a club where a 'naked splitter' is working. You take Julie Taylor-she's a big favorite now. She won't play the same bill with me or any other nude split strippers. Thinks it's degrading or something. Julie Taylor is like the old timers. You know-Gypsy Rose Lee, Ann Corio, Margie Hart-and none of them ever went-further than down to pasties and French panties on the stage.
"Today you've got to go more or you don't work. Bare titties are 'in.' Most of the gals go further than a G-string. Why, when I worked one of the topless clubs in San Francisco, I did a real nude split-and I mean I was stark, staring naked-topless and bottomless. Of course, I was shaved all over. That's another thing a lot of Johns like to see-a naked pussy, so you can see all the folds and all that jazz. Me, I think a woman's snatch is a lot prettier with some hair around it.
"Anyhow, I met Bill a year or so after Larry and I split. He was manager and part owner of a club, and he kept me booked pretty regular. Of course we were sleeping together-just as often as he could get free from the dame he was shacked up with. I liked the idea of being settled in one city, so when he asked me to live with him, I was happy to. He had a nice apartment, in the classy section of town, but we didn't spend a lot of time there. He wanted me to keep on working the club, so I did.
"I didn't like some of Bill's high-toned ideas-like when we'd go to a nice restaurant or some place like that, he'd introduce me as a singer or a dancer-never a stripper. He wanted to give the idea that I was a lady, I suppose, but I've always felt that I just wanted people to think of me as a woman-all woman-and to hell with that lady stuff.
"Then it turned out Bill wanted me to hustle, too. He tried to make it sound like something special, and maybe it was. He had some rich customers at the club, and he told me that a couple of them had said they would go" a thousand bucks to spend a night with me. One of them even made me an offer in a note he sent backstage, to pay $500 just to kiss my breasts and my pussy. How about that?
"At first, I told Bill I wouldn't-that I didn't want any man but him, but he kept after me. One night he told me that he was in deep financially with a guy, and needed to borrow some heavy dough from a friend. The only condition was the friend wanted a weekend of sex with me.
"Funny, but this guy-if I hadn't known Bill-would have been able to turn me on good. But I was a cold-assed bitch, feeling resentful towards Bill for peddling me that way, and the guy got the message. I went the whole route with him-blow job, the ass bit, front and back fucking, and he got his money's worth, but I didn't fool him. He knew I was just doing a job without any feeling.
"He had a flashy apartment:-I think he was a gangster of some kind-and after the first night he asked me if I'd mind if we had a few others in for some fun. I guess I knew what he meant by 'fun' but I didn't mind. In a way, he bored me-and that's not supposed to be a joke.
"So we had some sex in the early afternoon-the usual-this joker liked his prick sucked ten times a day, and confidentially, he needed it to get a good hard on. Early Saturday evening the others started to arrive. I was almost floored when I saw that there were five guys and only one other woman ! When the sixth guy finally walked in, I really flipped! It was Bill!
"This guy I had been farmed out to for the weekend wanted to really rub it into Bill by making him watch while other men fucked and sucked me, and while I sucked them off. That's what I thought. Actually, Bill was fucking around with the other dame at this party! He was in on it all the time! And me in love with the rotten bastard!
"Anyhow, I didn't know all of this at the time. I didn't want to screw up Bill's loan, so I played it dumb for the benefit of the others. This big wheel I'd been hired to fuck introduced everybody by first name, and I remember the dame was named Millie. Right off the bat Charlie-that was the guy I was supposed to screw for the loan money-tells everybody that I'm a star stripper. He asked me-real polite-if I'd mind doing a strip, then he turned on some 'blue' music and I obliged with the whole bit-bumps, grinds, tit-flashing, the works! Then the bastard had the other dame do a strip. She was filthy-and she was fat around the ass, with waffled skin and breasts that were beginning to sag, but those jerks ate it up. Then my little old sponsor put us up for grabs!
"He called for volunteers-any position-any combination-with one condition: the thing had to be done right there where all the rest could watch. By then I was mad, and when this old guy picked me and wanted a blow job to start with and an ass-fuck as an encore. I decided to show up this Millie bitch! I went to work on this guy like he'd never been done before. A couple of the others even applauded when I gave him the fanciest blow job he'd ever had. Wouldn't you know that Bill clapped the loudest of all!
"After that it was a gang sex brawl. When I saw Bill head for that slut, I really let go. I turned on three guys at once: I was sucking one, another was fucking me, and the third, I was jerking off! And you know something? When the guy with his cock in my cunt made me come, I went up to the ceiling! I really enjoyed it. I was beginning to realize that it increased my fucking pleasure when I had an audience!
"After that, I never did get much kick out of a straight 'lights out' fucking or sucking affair. I needed and wanted somebody to watch me. Later the headshrinker told me that my strong competitive spirit was responsible for my actions! Imagine that-wanting to out-fuck some other woman! But it was true.
"Even now, in this rat race carnival, I have to have a gang bang every once in a while or go nuts. And even when I don't get into the sex orgies, I still like an audience. The guy I work for is a pig-a real weirdo. He goes both ways and he can't get a hard on unless he has a couple of homos watching. He gets a real bang out of watching their faces while he sucks my pussy. Then he insists that I suck them off, while he is fucking them in the ass.
"What's left? How the hell do I know? I don't go for dames-never did. Oh, I've gone for a sixty-nine with a dame-but only for 'show-off purposes, never for my own satisfaction. I liked a good, stiff prick inside of me-front, back, sideways-when I want to really come. And, I need somebody to watch us.
"You know-this one guy even talked me into doing it for some stag movies, but it wasn't the same. He kept telling me, while he was giving me the works-'Come one, get with it. Remember, ten thousand horny guys will be getting their rocks off while they watch you and me have all this fun.' But it didn't work for me. I want to see their faces while they're watching me. I'm a crowd-pleaser, and I need a crowd."
That every stripper is an exhibitionist is an accepted truth in psychiatric circles. Most psychiatrists go even further and claim that every woman-likes to strip and have her body admired. Most meek, docile housewives, psychiatrists claim, would give their husbands a real sex thrill, if he only had sense enough to ask her to strip or to position a mirror so that she could watch their performance of the sex act!
Carried to the extreme, this narcissistic complex can lead to the sex patterns established by the subject of the above case history. To put an exclamation point to the above, let us listen to Dr. Donald Arbagian who states, "Actually, almost all of us are a perfect combination of egotist and narcissist. We imagine ourselves so wonderfully expert in the sex act, that each of us wishes secretly that his behavior could be viewed by many others. Lacking that chance, he is willing to settle for any approving glance-even his own!"
Dolly is a showgirl, like Maizie, but her sex patterns form an interesting contrast. Dolly is presently retired, though not completely removed from show business. She is the booking agent and stage director for one of the largest strip clubs on the West Coast. In her position of authority, Dolly can make some good sex deals for herself. Although she is a bisexual who screws males when it serves her purposes, Dolly prefers sex with women.
She is the West Coast president of the largest lesbian society in the United States. Her contempt for men is obvious and her revelation concerning males and females who work the strip club circuits give a good insight into the viewpoint of many lesbians.
"I would say that about ninety percent of all strippers are like me-lesbians by preference, but bisexuals because that's the way you have to play the game sometimes. Men still run things, and the only means a woman has to even hope to get a draw, is her pussy and other sex weapons. To me, my pussy, my mouth, my ass are just tools where men are concerned. Only with women can I feel that they are really womanly assets. That's how it is. And you know who's responsible? Men-naturally!
"I'm not going to give you a big song and dance about how an ineffectual husband or boyfriend drove me to lesbianism. I'll just tell the truth and you decide. I used to swing pretty good-I mean with men only, when I got into this racket. I didn't have to do it to get jobs. I was good. I've got a good body-nice boobs, good hips and thighs, and I'm a pretty fair dancer. The rest was easy enough, because I never did have any funny feelings about taking off my clothes in front of men.
I come from a family of five boys and three girls, and the girls are the youngest. You try to keep your pussy or your titties hidden with that set-up. In fact, my oldest brother, Bob, who is twelve years older than me, took a crack at me when I was fourteen. He wasn't the cherry-breaker, but it wasn't long after I'd lost it that we had our first session. I was asking for it, I guess. I was baby-sitting for him and his wife, and had this character come over to keep me company. Bob and his wife walked in at the wrong time-while me and my friend were making it on the couch. His wife blew her stack. Bob was pretty drunk-that's why they had come home early-and while he was taking me home in the car he kept apologizing for the snotty things his wife had called me. I was still hot-I had missed my chance to come because of their untimely arrival-and, well, Bob and I had it right there in the back seat of his station wagon. Afterwards, he kissed my pussy until I came again-that was the first time I'd ever had it that way. He wanted me to suck his cock, but I wouldn't.
"When I was fifteen, I left school to take a job as a waitress in a night club. Oh, they knew I wasn't old enough, but I looked pretty sexy walking around in that skimpy uniform. Besides, I was going with a guy who played in the band. I left home and moved in with him. That was a mistake. I didn't know then that he was on drugs. As time went on, he lost his job with the band, and I had to support his habit. My salary as a waitress wasn't enough, so I began dancing. What the hell did I care if I took off my clothes? I was proud of my body, and that slob I lived with was a nothing in bed. In fact, I was getting my steady ass from the manager of the club-and he was paying me extra for it!
"Finally, this Jerry-the guy I lived with, threw a fit and tried to pull a robbery to get money for a fix. He got caught and was sent up. I never saw him again. I just kept the apartment, and kept on screwing around with the manager. You know, I don't even remember the guy's name!
"Like I said, I was pretty good. I used to do the 'snatch split' and the guys up front were able to get a pretty good look at my crotch because I wore a real G-string-and it was just a string-not a broad strip of cloth. That's how I met Hal. He was a big wheel from San Francisco, and he sent me a note backstage asking me right straight out if I'd sleep with him. You know something? I think most women like a man to do that. If a guy is straight out, he's probably a fairly decent guy other ways. Anyhow, I went for it, and that was how I eventually got to be a lesbian!
"Hal wanted me to go back to San Francisco with him, and I did. He had some connections, and I went right to work in a club there. We couldn't live together because he was married to a rich bitch who controlled the dough. I doubt' if I wanted marriage, anyway. I just wanted to strip as a headliner, and have my sex with Hal. He was really something. He was big-all over-and he loved eating pussy. I guess it was Hal who taught me that the best way a woman can come is to have somebody kiss her snatch, and put his fingers up inside, while working around the ass-hole with the other hand. Although I prefer women, if Hal would show up today, I think I'd give him a go-he was that good.
But he was a little queer, too, because his favorite way was a sixty-nine, where he'd suck and finger and play with my ass-hole, while I was sucking his prick and ramming a finger up his ass-hole. He went straight homo, I heard later, but he sure liked girl-ass when I knew him.
"I was nuts about the guy, and he was having a real ball with girls. I was just one of a dozen, I guess. One time he told me that he was going to spend the weekend on a yacht with a bunch of big shots from his wife's circle of friends. I blew up. I told him I didn't care how many others he had, just so I got my share. I talked him into taking me along on the trip. It was nothing but a sex brawl on a boat, but it was there that I first had my cunt licked and sucked by a woman-Hal's own wife! He'd never told me much about her, and I'd wondered how he got away with all his fucking around. His wife was a 'butch' a tough, aggressive sexpot, who made no bones about what she was or who she wanted to go down on.
"Hal and I were going at it hot and heavy in a cabin when his wife walked in with this other dame. It was funny, because they had come down to the cabin to do some sucking of their own. She was a cold cucumber, never batted an eye. She just stood there, looking at Hal, with his tongue a couple of inches inside my cunt and his cock five inches down my throat. When he stopped and looked at her, she grinned and said, 'I can do a better job than that, cutie.' I thought she was talking to Hal, but she meant it for me. She walked over and swung a roundhouse right at Hal that turned his cheek purple. 'Get out of here, you amateur,' she screeched, and to my surprise he did! He grabbed his clothes and beat it. I didn't know what the hell she intended to do to me, but I soon found out.
"I was lying there, stark naked, still hot from Hal's tongue. Jane-that was Hal's wife's name-didn't even take her dress off. She just got on top of me and spread my thighs with her hands. I swear that she was almost drooling as she looked at my wide-open snatch. 'Can't say as I blame Hal, honey,' she remarked, 'it looks delicious.' Then she went down into my wet, hungry crotch. She bit my clitoris. She used her tongue, her teeth, her fingers, and I'm telling you, nobody before or since has ever known how to please a cunt like she did. And to make it even more fascinating to me, this other dame comes over and takes off Jane's panties, pushes up her dress, and begins to suck Jane from behind. Jane raised up so that she was on her hands and knees, and this other gal slid up underneath her, working her hands around Jane's butt, while she was sucking loud and eager. And I mean loud! But by the time that Jane had made me come twice, I wanted to kick her friend in the face in order to get her out of Jane's cunt. I wanted to give Jane what she'd given me-a taste of paradise. After she'd finished and the other dame had made her come, Jane slid up on top of me, rubbing her cunt against mine, while she used her fingers on my little bump inside. She began to kiss me-my eyes, my hair, my neck and my mouth-until I was crazy with desire.
"After a while, she stood up and stripped off her dress. She wasn't wearing anything underneath it, and she pulled me up while she laid down, spreading her legs wide for me to come in with my tongue. What a luscious thing she was! Jane had a full figure with nice big breasts, wide hips, flat stomach, and her cunt lips were real beauties. Most women have those flaps of skin that look ugly, but hers didn't. She had what I call a 'virgin's cunt'-not very hairy, with smooth, tiny lips-and, just peeking out, was that red, shiny, wet little knob that I was dying to lick and suck.
"While I was giving her the best I knew how, the other woman straddled Jane's face, and Jane worked a finger up her ass and really gave her a suck job. I think we all came together, because I was masturbating myself like crazy. I was that hot for this Jane.
"Over the weekend, I found out that the women on board outnumbered the men by at least five to one. For me, it was a big discovery. I still got my rocks off with men, but the big new kick in sex for me was with women. We had at least four different sex sessions with only the women there, and one that was a real 'switcheroo'-guys going down on guys, women with women, women with guys and women-things I never even dreamed could happen.
"It was really a gang bang weekend. Hal took on everyone, especially the guys. After a while, we lost count and just switched blind. I said before that if Hal would show up now, I'd probably take him on, but maybe I wouldn't, really. I keep remembering how he slobbered over those cocks, and swallowed the come of one guy while another guy was fucking him in the ass.
"But I had a real ball. I made two or three gal friends on that trip who remained friends. Jane was one of them, and she really broke me in to lesbianism. I mean, she knew all the tricks. I had only heard about a 'dildo' before-you know, a phony prick that straps on to the hips of a woman-but Jane had a dozen or so different ones, and she was glad to put on a demonstration for me. They were all different sizes and made of different materials. Funny, even though Jane was an all-out les, she still liked to be fucked with a dildo. Her favorite was a 'two-way dildo' that had a cock on each end of it, so that while the front end was in my cunt, the cock at the other end was in hers, and every thrust she made gave me a movement to the prick on my end. I never quite learned to work it well enough so that we could come together but that was probably because it had been specially made for Jane, and all women are built differently.
"I seldom use a dildo anymore, unless my lover asks for it. I like the straight tongue and finger job. Besides, I've got a pretty prominent 'little man in the boat' and I can often come just by rubbing it against the vulva of another woman providing she is good at kissing and tonguing me at the same time. I've always been what I call a 'firecracker.' I can usually come inside of two minutes and then I'm good for three or four more within the next half-hour.
"I have no trouble getting sex, in the business I'm in. Most of the gals like to work for me because I don't act coy or play games. They know that I audition them on the couch, but most of them also know that when they work my club they learn a lot about stripping and-most important of all to a lot of the real lesbians-they don't have to peddle their asses to guys, or sleep with some sloppy boss or with his friends in order to keep working.
"If I go for sex with a man, it is never alone. I mean it sometimes happens at a party, where everybody pulls the 'switcheroo' and mixes it up with men and women. I enjoy it sometimes, but it always has to be a man-woman combo working on me to make me come. Two men don't turn me on, and I won't stand for any man who tries to put his cock in my ass-hole. I give them all the variations they want in fucking, and I'll blow a guy if a woman is going down on me at the same time, but none of that ass-fucking for me. And, when you cozy around in bed with the bisexuals-the men, I mean-they all want to put it in your ass, pretending that it's a guy's ass-hole. Queers, that's what they are, even if they are doing it to a woman.
"Another thing that the girls who work my club know: I don't force any girl to sleep with me. I like cherries as much as anybody else, but between you and me, there aren't any in the strip business. Oh, once in a while, a girl will come in who has never had sex with a woman. If she really wants to stay straight and just go for men, I leave her alone. They tell me that lots of men like to take a woman violently, even rape her, but I never had that feeling about a girl. Once in a while, I'll straighten out a kid for her own good, like Alicia.
"Alicia was a green country kid who was working for a slob. He was a pimp, and she was sucker enough to go along. She was crazy about him, and she reminded me of myself when I started in this business. So I broke her in. One night after he'd stood her up and she got a little drunk, I gave her a real going over. Then I told her she could make some real money sleeping with rich lesbians like Jane. Jane paid young girls as much as $100 a night. Alicia didn't like the idea at first, but once she had tried it a few times, she decided to ditch the pimp. She was a good dancer and went straight to the top. Then she upped and married some college kid. I know she stayed lesbian because we had a night together after she was hitched, but she must be swinging both ways because I later heard that she had a kid.
"I guess there's lots more of this going on in show business, but I can't say for sure because I've never been in any other business and I don't get out much into what you call 'normal' society. I don't think the rich dames that I swing with can be described as members of a 'normal' society, and I've only been to one sex orgy in my life. That was at the home of a movie star-a dame. I went to it with a man who owns a string of strip clubs. He didn't know it was going to be an orgy but we soon found out. There was plenty of booze flowing and after twenty or more couples arrived, there was a sex show that would have curled your hair-trained dogs licking girls' cunts and one big police dog that fucked one girl in the rear. Then some fag stars staged an act and finally everybody got together in one big sex circus.
"The girls who go to this kind of thing-usually for pay-tell me that it is generally a one-way deal. That is, the homos pair off for sex with other homos, and the lesbians make out with the women. The only variations come after each has exhausted all the possibilities with others of his own sex. Then, to add a little spice, they mix it up with the opposite sex. A funny thing, but in almost every case, the homo and the lesbian still want their own kind of sex-a homo wants his cock sucked by a woman or else he will fuck her up the ass, and a lesbian wants her pussy sucked or else she will get a guy on top of her, masturbating her with his fingers and kissing her on the mouth.
"I don't feel that I've missed much, and I wouldn't want it any other way. Maybe I'm a nympho, but I don't think so, because I have an orgasm just about every time with men as well as with women. But I can't see how these straight dames can settle down with one guy and have sex a couple of times a week only with him. I'd go out of my mind. I'd be fucking the milkman and the mailman, or maybe get me a whole flock of police dogs like that one I saw at the party, but I sure as hell couldn't live a dull life like those broads. I can't even see this 'marriage' among lesbians. Most lesbians are pretty faithful, once they marry, but I couldn't be. When I take on a steady partner, I always make it clear that it isn't going to be permanent and when I want to break it up, I do.
"I've never really fallen in love with a woman or a man. To me, love is a one-way street-a dead end. No piece of paper is going to keep me faithful to one person. That has to come from inside-you have to want to save it for just one woman or one man. And, after talking with some of the guys who go to strip clubs, and from knowing some of their wives in bed, I'm pretty certain that there just isn't any such thing as a 'faithful' husband or wife, because men and women aren't built that way. They're made for sex, not love."
As previously stated, Dolly is not unusual, at least in the glittering world of the strippers. But she is not necessarily typical, for many of the top strippers in the country are quite frank in disparaging Dolly's type.
Old-time burlesque queens such as Gypsy Rose Lee, Ann Corio, Sherry Britton, Lili St. Cyr, etc., have walked out on a contract countless times after discovering that the other girls were lesbians or prostitutes, or that the club managers expected the strippers to do favors for the management, either with club personnel or with customers.
In gathering material for this book, it was found that generally, girls in show business are pretty blase about sex. They are frank and open in their approach to it. As one stripper told us, "When you guys on the outside want a big night-something special-you go to see a movie, or a play, or something like that. Well, we're part of that show business world that entertains you, and when we want some kicks, show business isn't it for us. So, what is more natural than to turn to sex?"
This same girl who admitted that she was a lesbian, but had gone both ways in the sex game, concluded our interview with a smile as she confided, "This is the first time I can remember that I've been alone with a man for three hours, and he hasn't made a pass or a proposition! You know, it makes me feel more like a woman."
CHAPTER SIX
The Bull Ring-A Fiesta of Sex
Living close to the Mexican border, and having written many interviews and first-hand accounts of bullfighting, the author is familiar with both bullfights and toreros. The ranks of the toreros are filled with eager, dedicated young men, whose dreams in life are to become heroes in the bullfight arena. To many of them from poor homes, it is the only possible chance at wealth and glory. They are ready to do anything for that chance.
And if anything should include having to go to bed with one of the bullfight promoters, or with the owner of a small plaza de toros, then the ambitious young torero will drop his scruples and his pants, and embark on the sex route toward success. Often, they are exploited and used sexually, their manhood violated, without ever achieving the success for which they are sacrificing themselves. Sometimes, they are seduced by an entire "syndicate" of promoters, in an orgy of hot-blooded humping, before they ever even step inside an arena.
While it is true that many of these misguided, would-be heroes suck cocks only reluctantly, they do it nevertheless. They submit their tender, virginal ass-holes to whomever can do them the most good, and in Spain, South America, and Mexico, it is so common that, as one aficionado said, "The matador has had far more things stuck in him than the brave bull he has just killed!"
There are a lot of reasons why a novice bullfighter would be willing to give in to the perverse desires of people who can help him. Bullfighting is a tough, cut-throat business, and at the start of his career, a novice must pay for the privilege of fighting a bull. Inasmuch as most of the novices are poor, ignorant peons, they often pay with the only currency they possess-their bodies.
One of the great bullfighters (who must obviously remain anonymous) said, "Few-very, very few novilleros are good enough at the beginning to avoid the 'payment.' In Mexico or Spain, there is a lot of money involved. The torero must have his own 'suit of lights'-and in Mexico a used one costs many hundred pesos. In my country, Mexico, salaries are low, and money is difficult to come by. In Mexico City, where the wage scale is higher-and also the cost of living-policemen get twenty five pesos a day. A skilled construction worker or a steel man-he earns the same. By comparison, for a two-hour job, a torero can make as much as 50,000 pesos for an hour's work. So, senor, one can see why allowing the ass to be bored into, or taking a penis into the mouth can be a very good economic decision!"
He explained further, "Even to begin, a novice bullfighter needs such equipment as a cape, a muleta, sword, etc., and all these come high. He also needs helpers in the ring, and they do not work for nothing. Also, the novillero must have transportation to the ring-it all costs.
"And if he gets a chance and performs well-and is awarded an ear or a tail-who will know about it? A bullfighter draws according to how many of his exploits and graces, and in Mexico or Spain word of mouth is very slow-very slow. So? A bullfighter must pay the press and many writers if he wants to become known. Publicity is not free. A strong publicity campaign includes many photos of the novillero, and that means 'greasing many palms.' This 'greasing' costs $700 at a minimum and where is a poor novillero going to get that kind of money? There is one sure source: a wealthy homosexual patron.
"Tens of thousands of muchachos from all over Mexico want to be bullfighters for a lot of reasons. If they are poor, they hope to become rich; if they desire fame and adulation, they get it; if they are good and if they live long enough, they will eagerly offer themselves. There are thousands waiting outside every bull ring. A bullfighter may have talent, perseverance, luck and skill, but if he says no to the desires of an impresario, or even of an important newspaperman, he might as well forget to show up at the ring.
"Of course, if he becomes famous, then he can tell anyone to go jump into a sewer, but of all the thousands who try, only a handful ever make it to the top. The others? They become prostitutes. They must drink, carouse, and be charming bedfellows to any man who will pay the expense. His patron will be a man, make no romantic mistakes about that! Ah, yes-later, when he has reached the top-wealthy women will go to bed with him, but while he is a novillero, he will sleep with men, senor, if only because he doesn't have a peso to take a girl out, to wine and dine her. And, should he find a girl who seriously loves him for himself, he will find that he cannot consider marriage until he has the money and that comes from his patron, who will always insist that the would-be torero stop chasing women and settle down to the act of bullfighting. It is a vicious circle, you see.
"I was bright-eyed and hopeful when I came to my first bull ring, but, like all the others, I was also broke. Then I met the segundo to a famous manager and it was he who first took me to bed-merely to get a chance to talk with the manager!
"And he was not kind or tactful about it, let me tell you. He invited me to his room, assuming I knew the price. I was only fifteen, and I believed that women were made to be screwed-not men or boys! In the small village where I lived, I had screwed a few girls who liked it, but now sex means to me the thousand and one pricks that I have tasted and had stuck into my ass!
"That first time I stood there with my hat in my hand, and he looked at me as if I were stupid! 'Well? ' he barked, motioning toward my trousers, 'Get them off!' Even then I thought he wanted to see if my legs were strong and I peeled off my pants quickly. I wore no underwear, and when he, saw my cock his mouth almost watered. He had me turn around, and when I did he told me to bend over. He came close and spread the cheeks of my ass, making little sounds of pleasure as he inspected my ass-hole. Meantime, he was taking off his pants, and he led me to the bed. There, he pushed me down on my back and began to stroke my cock. When it grew hard, he teased the head of it with his tongue and lips. All the while, he was masturbating, and when his cock was big and round and stiff, he moved up and spread my legs. He put a huge pillow under my hips and put my legs up over his shoulders while he knelt between my legs. From this position, he could penetrate my ass-hole while he jerked my prick.
"When he shoved it in, I almost screamed with pain, but I did not want him to think that a coward had dared dream of facing the brave bulls, so I swallowed my scream and let him jab me. He did not use any salve or vaseline or soap, but in a few moments he had shot his juice inside me and the lubrication of that helped as he finished his ass-fuck the second time.
"In spite of the pain, I came in his hand as he jerked my throbbing prick. After he had come a second time, he withdrew his cock from my ass and climbed upward, so he was straddling my face. Then he put the slimy, cruddy, wet prick that he had just withdrawn from my ass-hole, in my mouth. He was a big man, strong and evil-looking, and by now I knew fear. What could I do but let him fuck me in the mouth?
"When he was through, he sucked my cock until I came again, and then he told me to wait while he paid a call on the manager. I was confused. I had enjoyed parts of the last hour, and I still dreamed big dreams.
"He returned in fifteen minutes with the 'great one' and I was still naked, lying on the bed, when they came in. I think the manager was even more brutal than his segundo. He first made me take his cock into my mouth, and then he fucked me in the ass. After that, he made me get on my hands and knees and, while el segundo fucked me in the ass, the manager fucked me in the mouth. From the same position, with me on hands and knees, the manager corn-holed me while the second man slid underneath me and sucked me until I came. The last thing that day was the 'chain' with each of us sucking another's prick.
"But it was worth it, I suppose, for the manager got me my chance to show my courage and my little skill and later, he introduced me to the impresario, who, in turn, found me a wealthy patron.
"The first months were a nightmare of sex. I wondered if I would ever see the inside of a bull ring. The patron was a breeder of bulls, and he took me to his rancho. It was during testing time, when the bulls are tested for their bravery. Because I had proven my own abilities in bed, I was allowed to cape the fine bulls and while I waited my chance, every hand and straw boss on the place made me pay-with my mouth and my ass-hole!
"The patron was a man who also enjoyed watching sex orgies. He would sit there, watching two men use me at the same time, while another novillero sucked him off.
"Strangely, this is never mentioned by any of the bullfighters, the handlers, the attendants or newsmen. It is as if the situation did not exist, but it is as much a part of the fiesta brava as are the bulls. The fans know it, too, but they ignore it because it would not be right to cheer for and pay to see a brave man face and kill the bulls when, in reality, he is not a man but one who has been used as a woman.
"In his novel, The Wounds of Hunger, Luis Spota, one of Mexico's most popular and famous writers, tells of the homosexuality among bullfighters, far better than I can. Most bullfighters have read the book, but most react the same as one rising torero did when he said, 'It is a morbid novel. All that was done was to pick out isolated, strange happenings, such as homosexuality, and make everyone believe that this is what bullfighters are really like.'
"But the incidents are not isolated, senor. They happen every day, because the world of the bullfighter contains many homosexuals. I should know. On Sunday afternoon, when I see a poor performance by an inept bullfighter, I shrug and say that it is only natural, because the torero probably did not earn his place in the ring by his skills nor by long training, but merely by being amiable-very friendly-in the beds of many men.
"Naturally, as I climbed to the top and became a successful torero, I was no longer forced to submit to many men. But, by that time, force was not needed. I was driven by my cultivated love of the tender ass-hole of a young boy, or the feel of soft, wet lips around the head of my cock. When I was starring at the fiesta brava, I had a special love-a young lad of fifteen, built like a girl-slim hips, smooth skin, and the most beautiful little prick! But, in all my years, he was the only one that I managed to keep to myself. The others, like myself, were cut up and parceled out, piece by piece. Everyone connected with the bullfight game demands a piece of everything-the money, the glory, the body.
"Usually, when an impresario or my manager would bring me a nice young boy, they would have already taken his cherry, and we would have all-together sex. I never had a manager who was not homosexual, and to my best beliefs, I never worked for an impresario who was not a bisexual at least.
"Me and women? There have been few for me. It has been my own fault, I suppose. I never gave a woman a real chance to show me what pleasure might be found in the female organ. Always I insisted, and had my way, that our intercourse be just as it was with all the males I'd loved: either in the mouth or the ass-hole. Oh, I've tried a cunt, here and there, but I can honestly say that I have never truly experienced the full, satisfying orgasm that I do with males-especially the young males. It is difficult to describe the feeling, senor. that comes when one looks down on a young boy on his knees before you, with his soft, sweet lips around your cock. And when he spreads his ass cheeks and reveals the inviting, tight, beautiful, brown ass-hole-ah! No woman could match the thrills, senor-no woman!"
Juan is a bartender in Tijuana. Once he had dreams of winning fame and riches as a torero. Those dreams are gone. Juan told us his story only because he was paid for it. Juan does everything for only one reason: to survive. He is about thirty, still slim, with the graceful body of the torero; but now Juan has the mannerisms and the soft lisp of so many homosexuals.
"Ah, yes, I was once a novillero, but no more than that. It was not the brave bulls that led to my downfall, but the-as you say-cocksuckers and the ass-lovers.
"It began when I was sixteen; a fresh-eyed boy from Sonora, who dreamed the big dream. It did not just begin with the leeches in Tijuana. It started earlier when I ran away from my home, and made my way across the brown hills to this city.
"I persuaded one of the workers, who helps with the hauling of the bull's carcass from the ring, to take me along for the first fight of the season. He was a frustrated bullfighter, just as I am today, and I paid my fare across the hills in his battered old Ford by agreeing to let him fuck me in the ass. Then, fifty miles before we reached Tijuana, he dumped me out. I walked the last miles thinking that this was just a bad man possessed of the devil.
"When I arrived, I was starving, but I was excited by the sight of the arena, the crowds of people and the emotion in the air. I begged some food and I hung around the bull ring. Miracle of miracles-I got a job! It was that of the 'runner'-a boy who puts a pair of horns on his head and runs to give the novice experience in dodging the cruel horns.
"How'd I get the job? By baring my little-boy behind and allowing three novilleros to take turns at sticking their pricks up my ass-hole. And when the day was over, they asked if I wanted to work again the next day. When they offered me a ticket-in the shade-for the coming corrida, I leaped at the chance, even knowing what was to come. That night, there were many in the room behind the cantina. There were several boys my age and younger, and there were older men in imagine silk suits; and, lo and behold, there were two of my biggest heroes-famous toreros I had only seen posters of before.
"I was glad to submit my ass to them, and later to have the honor of taking the cock of my hero in my mouth and sucking it until he came. All the while, the others were having a fiesta of sex in that little room. A dozen men and boys, screwing, changing partners, panting with passion, switching partners again, endlessly....
"I was invited to join the entourage of one of the toreros. It was my job to keep his cape and swords clean and bright, and to see that his 'suit of lights' was always spotless and waiting for him before he entered the ring and faced the 'moment of truth.'
"And I was always a part of the party that came afterwards, when the ones who were close to him gathered to drink tequila, and to relax with the bodies of others. I grew to love my matador. I was proud to sink down on my knees and suck him even in front of all our friends. And he repaid me by paving the way for me to become a picador-and I thought I was on my way to becoming a great torero.
"But fate was against me. On my first day, I was gored. Half of my stomach was torn by the cruel horns, and my matador paid for the doctor and the hospital. He still comes to see me, even though he long ago retired in Mexico City. And, we still go to bed. Often, he honors me by bringing with him some promising young toreros, and they honor me and him at the same time. Do you understand me? My matador still thinks I am one of the best, and he wants the young ones to learn sex from me!
"A bad life? No, a full one, for I am with the people I love most-those who live in the world of 'el toro.' I have no regrets. I am grateful to God for the chance to be one of this world. I have never loved a woman, but many, many men...! "
Of interest is the comment of Dr. Manuel Ortega, famed Mexican psychologist, concerning the high incidence of homosexuality and collective sex orgies among the bullfight crowd.
"Basically, at the beginning," he says, "it is a question of the boy being willing to do anything for his chance at fame, to have steady meals, and later, money. After that, I am convinced that there are a number of contributing factors.
"For example: psychiatrists have advanced the theory that most successful bullfighters are possessed of a strong 'death wish' as Freud describes it. I agree, in part. But my studies with homosexuals-especially with bullfighters-leads me to conclude that there is something else equally as strong. First it is purely and simply an experience of sex; then it becomes a habit. I am sure that if these young men were to have had solid, meaningful, early sex experiences with a girl they loved, they might be able to fight off homosexuality."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Swapping Sessions And Plural Sex
In the eyes of the average person who is often somewhat stunned by the proportions of the so-called sexual revolution, some of the cases outlined previously may be excused on the grounds that the young persons involved were the victims of their poor environment, lack of parental guidance, and lack of healthy outlets for their exuberance. Much harder to understand and condone are the sadistic and masochistic perverts who pay others for mass violence, or who inflict violence on others for sex kicks.
Psychiatrists are puzzled at the variety of causes for the sharp rise in masochism and sadism, although some state that there is not as sharp a rise in this particular sexual aberration as there is in an open 'getting-together' of the many adherents.
Almost all of the underground and offbeat newspapers (many of them published on the college campuses) carry rather blatant ads that bring such persons into contact with one another for mass sadomasochistic orgies.
Another puzzling factor is the high incidence of ostensibly well-off, upper-bracket-income people who indulge in this practice of violent multiple sex bouts. That many of them merely have jaded sex appetites is undeniable. Psychiatry, however, has been unable to relegate all of them to a definite pattern or category. Perhaps Ethel R. might be considered typical of one group: the bored, well-off housewife.
Ethel is forty-three, a living testimony to the marvelous powers of modern medicine and cosmetics, as well as to the effects of the "good life" of the prosperous middle class. Her daughter is married, and her youngest son is completing college in the East. Carl, her husband, is a successful business man who owns a small chain of laundromats, and who has extensive stock holdings of a very sound nature. Ethel, by her own admission, simply grew tired of the twice-a-week sex she got from her husband, and decided to do something about it.
She happened to see a copy of a local underground newspaper, and answered an ad that read, "Broad-minded couple, thirty-eight and thirty-two, wishes to have social relations with like-minded couples or singles. Race or age no barrier."
There was a post-office box number, and Ethel included a snapshot of herself, taken in a brief bathing suit, which showed her magnificent, mature shape and her obvious beauty. Let her continue the account of her sexual adventure with the sadomasochist crowd:
"I'd read and heard of the regular swappers, but I didn't realize that there was another kind. When I answered the ad, I received a phone call from a woman. She identified herself as the woman in the ad, and she asked me how I felt about discipline. I found out later that she was talking about something entirely apart from what I believed discipline meant.
"She said that both she and her husband were impressed by my letter and picture. They asked immediately if my husband wanted to accompany me, and I told them he might later. Actually, I hadn't mentioned it to him. I was invited to meet them at their home, and I was surprised at the address they gave me. It was in one of the wealthiest sections of the city. But there were even more surprises in store for me when I arrived.
"I was met at the door by a distinguished-looking woman; not beautiful, but what I'd call handsome. She was warm and pleasant-so much so that I wondered what could be wrong with a man who wouldn't find extreme sexual pleasure with her. Her husband was a fine-looking man, well-mannered and soft-spoken. He handed me a martini soon after I arrived.
"We talked for a few moments, then they led me into what they called the den. There I found four other persons, two men and two women. The woman-I'll call her June-announced that I was the last of the invited guests, and immediately everyone began to undress. The second martini made it easier for me to take my clothes off. I was fascinated by the strange marks-bruises, welts, and a couple of burns on the skins of some of the guests.
"When we were all stripped, June asked pleasantly who wanted to be the first. A young woman stepped out and sat on a couch in the center of the room. She was a pretty girl, about twenty-eight or so. June asked what she preferred, leather or a hairbrush. She said she preferred the belt.
"By this time I had begun to get the idea that I'd stepped into a pretty weird group, and I told June's husband, the host, that I had made a mistake, and wanted to leave. He called everyone together, pushing me gently down into a chair.
" 'Now Ethel,' he said, 'we might as well be honest. We were not getting anything out of our sex lives as they were. In all fairness, you ought to give us at least a chance to prove our point. You need not try discipline unless you choose. However, we have a little test that usually proves if you need extra stimulation. Will you choose one of us men-or women, if you prefer-and have intercourse? '
"I was shocked, but then that was what I had come for. I chose a younger man who had gained quite an erection while we were talking. He led me to the couch, while the others watched. He laid me down and began kissing my breasts. I admit that was something I hadn't had much of lately. I'd always been very responsive to having my nipples sucked, even nipped a little. He then began moving downward with his tongue and lips, and finally he spread my legs and inserted his tongue inside the lips of my vagina. He worked on me for over five minutes, and I was close to coming several times but I just couldn't.
"He moved around, and got on top of me. So help me, he had the most wonderful piece of meat I've ever seen on a man! He shoved that big dick into me and, I swear, I had never had it any better. I was sure I'd come in about thirty seconds, but again he worked on me for over five minutes. I know he came once, and maybe twice, but I was still pumping away, sucking his tongue, clutching his ass-cheeks, waiting, hoping, needing!
"Then he pulled out. He was still good and hard, and I tried to pull him back, so I could kiss his penis. I didn't want him to quit on me. But he just walked away, laughing at me, and then I became aware that everybody was laughing at me! I sat up, trying to cover my vagina and breasts, but it was silly. They knew what I was just beginning to know-I needed something else-something to add to a man's kissing me and putting a lovely dick inside of me. Can you understand?
"Then June walked over to me. I sat there, naked, crying, and wishing I could find a hole to crawl into. She put her arm around me, and leaning over, kissed my hair. Then she said, 'Poor baby. Now will you try it our way?'
"I guess I nodded, because the next thing I knew, this same fellow was back, kissing my pussy. Oh, God, how he was trying to be sexy but gentle and I wanted him to make me come so badly! I didn't see June's husband walk over, but I sure felt it when he hit me! He hit me across my breasts with a belt. It startled and hurt me, and I had to fight to keep control. Then I asked myself, 'Is this better? Is this what I am really after? Is this what I need?'
"I tried to divorce myself from my feelings. I lay there, waiting to see what would happen next. June's husband hit me again, and I felt a new emotion rising inside me as this young fellow was sucking my box and putting his finger up my ass-hole. I had never had anal intercourse, and I had never liked my husband massaging my anus. But now, I found that it was different! I really got with it. While June's husband struck me across my breasts and stomach, with that belt, I really came alive. I had had my cunt kissed many times but never like this! This man was driving me wild with his tongue. I pushed him off and rolled him over so that I could get on top. I understood later that I had done this in hopes that someone would hit me on the ass with that energizing belt, but all I knew then was that I wanted to be fucked, and I wanted to be on top-something that my husband Carl would never stand for.
"When we reversed positions, June came up with a hairbrush. And while her husband laid it on me with that belt, she began to hit me on the ass with the brush!
"If you've never known this thrill, then it is almost impossible to describe what happens. All I know is that there is no man-or woman-on earth who can alone accomplish the effect on the emotions in the way that discipline does. I learned that a stinging ass and breasts that hurt can pep up your sex life!
"I can't explain, but when they hit me with that belt and hairbrush, all my flesh came alive! Looking back, that man underneath me meant nothing-it was me, don't you see-that came alive! "
This woman eventually formed a sex club of her own. Her husband, unable to respond to the sadism and masochism of the group, finally divorced her. She inherited a considerable amount of money and property, and with her influence, she had had no trouble from the police in her kingdom of sadism.
Fortunately, her husband made himself available for comment. When confronted with the fact that his wife had become a confirmed masochist, he made this statement:
"Ethel? I hope she's having as good a time in bed as I am. Hell, she and I were washed up years ago. I don't know just when, but a long time ago we stopped making it in bed. So should I stop living? To hell with that! There are a bunch of fresh, eager newcomers ready for me and I'd be a damned fool not to go for some of them. They don't pretend, like Ethel and hundreds of wives like her do. They say it right out, 'Make me come, daddy, and lay a bill in my hand.' That's the name of the game-and I play it a lot. Now Ethel has her kicks and I've got mine."
Psychiatrists haven't the answer, and neither have we. Where will it end? It is no longer a game of wife-swapping, or sex orgies, it seems to have settled into a game of "doing your own thing, baby."
Much has been said and written about the swinging singles. They are not made up of wild teen-agers, for the teeny-boppers can't afford that kind of life-although they often do get into the act. The average swinging single is from twenty-five to thirty-five years of age. In fact, many of the ads for apartments catering to the swinging singles set and age limit of thirty-five upon prospective tenants. Even then there are plenty of applicants-both male and female. One of them is Gary V., a thirty-two-year-old junior executive who drives a flashy sports car, has a well-furnished apartment, and who can probably have any girl he wants.
"I went the route. There are a dozen bars in the Valley where I can drop in, buy some drinks and wind up with a chick in my bed. But that ain't the only scene, man. Variety is the name of the game. There's more than one way to skin a cat.
"Well, I read about this swinging singles joint, and I gave it the once-over. A buddy and I share an apartment. It's my furniture, but we split the bills. Most of the swinging joints are that way-two guys or gals sharing a pad. There's an age limit of thirty-two at my place, and you ought to see the dolls that live there. They come in all sizes and shapes-cherries, divorcees, redheads, brunettes, blondes-and every one of them is there for one thing: to swing.
"The first weekend we were there, we threw a shindig. There were about fourteen gals and ten guys. Everybody brought something-the girls brought food, and the guys, booze. It started off slow and everybody had a few before any action started. Then one of the girls stripped to her panties and grabbed a guy for a 'frug' number. That did it. Before the record ended, half of the people in the joint were stripped.
"We've got a two-bedroom apartment, and inside ten minutes, both the beds were in use. The rest of us, in the living room, were too hot to cool down, so we just went at it right there. It was my first time with people watching. Oh, I'd done it in the back seat of a car while another couple was up front, but this was different-this was swinging! The girl I had been dancing with was a real hot piece with nice big boobs and a shape like a Greek goddess. She made me lay down on the floor on my back, and she got positioned over me with her ass toward my cock. Then she lowered herself on my tool, and she used her legs to move up and down while I held her ass and hips. like I said, there were more girls than guys, and this one babe came over and stood over me so I could look right up into her snatch and says, 'Got room for one more, baby?' Before I could answer, she squatted down over my face, spread the lips of her cunt and planted it right on my lips. I've eaten pussy a lot of times but this was the first time I'd done it for an audience. It was fun trying to make the broad I was fucking come, and at the same time, trying to make the one above my face have an orgasm with my tongue and lips. The broad on top of my cock won the race, and I came when she did.
"No sooner had we finished, when the dame I was pussy-licking pushed the screwer off and climbed on. I've heard of sloppy seconds for guys, but this was the first time I'd ever seen a dame hot enough to want a come-covered pecker inside of her, fresh from another cunt! I couldn't work it too good the second time since I was on my back, so I rolled her over and went to work. God, she had a deep cunt! She worked her legs up so that her calves were resting on my shoulder, and I put my hands under her ass-cheeks and lifted. She was wild for it, and kept saying, 'Harder, lover, harder! All the way with little Mae!'
"To give you an idea of the kind of swingers that live in this place, all the dames who were watching kept on making remarks like, 'Who needs a sex ball with a stud like this?' or 'Mae, I'm going to stand by your face so when that prick comes out through your mouth, I can get some.' And other things like that.
"They weren't kidding. When I got through, one of the gals had a warm, wet washcloth and a towel, and she washed me off real good, then began to suck me off. I thought I was pretty good with dames, but this bunch-they were something else.
"And that wasn't an unusual brawl. Usually, there aren't that many there, but the routine is always the same. We had four girls in the building that went both ways-guys or dames-but I don't think there were any homos or bisexuals. At least if there were, they weren't at any of the bashes I swung at.
"Those girls really turned me on. Maybe I'm different, but when I've been in the saddle about three or four times, and old Peter is sagging badly, all I need to turn me on is to watch a couple of dames go down on each other, or to watch a daisy chain with a guy in the middle and everybody sucking. I tell you, I doubt if anybody in that building, in the two years I've lived there, ever had to masturbate. If they ever do, they're off their rockers.
"All the dames were on the 'pill,' so there was never any need for 'safeties,' and the gals were really clean. Most of them came right from work, took a quick swim, then headed for a shower and a douche. I know I sucked a lot of pussy, and I never once got turned off by the smell, and that's a big thing. Sometimes, on a quiet night, we used to sit around and talk about sex. All the angles. We were all pretty blunt, and I learned a hell of a lot about how dames feel about guys, and how many pitfalls there are that can turn a dame off.
"One thing that never occurred to me is this: a guy that isn't circumcised can form a hell of a lot of 'cheese'-you know, the white stuff inside the flap that covers the head of his dick. Maybe you know that already, but I'll bet you didn't know that some gals actually like it to be there when they blow you!
"And a couple of the guys admitted that they actually liked the smell of a dame's pussy when they went down on the snatch! We talked about a lot of things, and we had some of the best sex sessions afterwards that anybody could imagine.
"This one girl, to give you an example, was frustrating to me. I screwed her silly-deep, and slow, with my tongue deep in her mouth, and sometimes I waited to come for as long as ten minutes-but she just couldn't get with it. At one of the bull sessions she was at, I asked her flat out, what went with her. Instead of telling me, she strips off her clothes, makes me take mine off, and right there, in front of everybody, she showed me. When I got on top of her, she told me to let her 'do the driving.' She put my cock in just right, with me riding high on the knob just inside the lips. Then she takes one of my hands and puts it on her breast, and the other one she slides under her ass. She takes my middle finger and guides it right to her ass-hole and says, 'Now rake the titty with your fingernails, baby-not too hard-and work that finger inside my ass-hole!' And then that dame came before I did!
"Funny, but since I've lived there, a hell of a lot of gals and guys have gotten married, but not one ever married a person from the building! We talk about that, too, I guess it works out that everybody wants to learn all the ins and outs of sex, the way they like it, and the way the average member of the opposite sex like it. Then they want to marry their own choice, feeling secure in the belief that they can give and take in the sex department with no problems.
"Once in a while, we'd invite outsiders to the sex binges, but it got to be a drag. Usually, it was a guy who'd bring a dame he was hung up on, and whom he couldn't get into the hay. He figured that with some good booze, and all the sights to stimulate her, she'd be a pushover, but it seldom worked that way. If you have to bring a dame to a sex session to get into her panties, she's going to be turned off at the sight of dames sucking a guy's prick, or going down on another woman. I tried it with a chick from the office and I know.
"I don't go steady with any one gal. I like the kind of dames that live in a swinging place. I can find a dame to do all the things I like, such as going to a football game, or surfing, and I always know that we're going to go to bed afterwards.
"Would I marry a dame like the ones that live in the building? I might. Most of these gals are pretty sharp. And, strange as it might sound, they aren't tramps, either. They just take sex for what it is-something that's natural, and that can be damned good if you don't use it as a whip. No woman will ever use sex to blackmail me, I'll tell you that. I've got some married friends, and I've seen that scene. 'Be a good boy, Tommy, and I'll give you a piece of ass tonight.' Or 'No, you lost twenty dollars playing poker, so you don't get any for a week!' Horseshit on that noise. If one won't give, there are ten who will, and with no strings attached."
To round out the picture of multiple sex in the middle-class single echelon, consider the story of Clara. Clara is twenty-six, makes $142.50 a week take-home pay, and has a nice apartment. Presumably, she will soon move into the $15,000 a-year bracket as a copywriter for a large advertising firm dealing exclusively in ladies' apparel and cosmetics. She is pretty, has an eye-catching shape, and her mind is like a computer. Yet, she was bitter, frustrated and lonely until she found her solution to the problem of a girl who needs sex regularly, but has no intention of marrying. Clara is one of those who like multiple sex-but for her, it must be anonymous.
"Maybe it was at college that I first got bored with sex. At my school, you had your choice-guys or dolls. It was a coed joint, and you could swing with the gals in the dorm, or you could go out and get all the ass you needed from guys-either on campus or off. Stupid as it may sound, I was afraid of getting pregnant. I'd been knocked up when I was sixteen, and had had an abortion. I almost didn't make it, so maybe I had a good reason for going the lesbian route.
"I never heard of the 'pill' until about four years ago, and by that time, I had formed a sex pattern with women, although not exclusively. When I needed a man-and often I did-I'd just make the guy wear a rubber. I kept my own supply. But you be surprised how many guys don't like them and don't come back for seconds.
"While I was beginning to make myself noticed at the office, the 'pill' came out, and you can bet your sweet ass that I went for it! I found a lot of lesbians where I work, and I fooled with them for a while. Then I found the real swingers-the ones that go both ways, as a general rule. Then I got screwed up with my boss who just happens to be a woman. When she took over, she really took over. She laid it right on the line with, "Baby, you're mine or you're out!' The only thing that saved me was the fact that she was always busy on weekends, usually with business, and sometimes with her jerk of a husband who happened to be a queer. Talk about 'marriage of convenience!' Hows that for a double cover-up!
"Anyhow, I got so goddamned bored with this 'butch' that I took to hanging around bars. Not cheap ones, but places where I knew I could find men. There are lots of bars like that these days, and Friday is the best night for making a pick-up.
You can score early and spend the whole weekend with a guy, No strings, no questions. Hell, half of the guys I slept with didn't even know my last name. And that's part of the attraction. You go out with a guy three times and he wants to own you. Exclusive rights are not for this baby. I like anonymity, and the bars give it to me. Or they did.
"I started going to this one bar that catered to office workers-the singles and others who hate to face a lonely weekend. There are certain unwritten rules. You don't get snooty if a guy asks you to have a drink, but you don't get grabby, either. I mean, you talk it out. If you don't swing the same way, no hard feelings. The guy wanders on down the bar to ask somebody else, and you play it cool and wait for another offer. And you'll get one."
An eminent psychiatrist says, "Almost any large American city offers the lonely or frustrated woman the dual advantages of unlimited opportunity, plus almost complete anonymity. In these crowded, urban centers, they may unburden their troubles, participate in activities they would not or could not share in their individual communities. In the big city, with the chance of exposure slight, they are able to engage their emotional responses in free and unrestricted play.
In large cities like New York, Chicago, Los Angeles and San Francisco, there are numerous pick-up bars that cater almost exclusively to the growing horde of lonely women-many from out of town-who are searching for sex. To keep the trade coming back, many of them employ a cozy communications system that insures their companion-seeking female guests every possible opportunity of landing a man before the place closes.
And drinks that are $I.50 for males are only fifty cents for an unescorted lady. However, once she is hooked up with a guy, the price goes up to normal.
The gimmick is simple: each booth has a telephone, and the customer can dial any other booth in the place and have a private two-way conversation. The girls sit in a booth (with or without other girls) and the guys dial them after they've given them the once-over. Or vice versa. If a woman spots a guy who strikes her imagine, she can always talk to him at length. Then, if they seem to hit it off, simply tell him that she is the blonde in the red dress, seated in booth number forty! Then they join forces, and soon they leave arm-in-arm!
The owner of a heavily-patronized bar of this type in Los Angeles said, "We get a lot of weekend kick hunters. They're deadly serious, and if it's getting late and they are still without a stud, you can see the panic in their eyes. And they're not just chickens, either. They come in all sizes, from pony-tailed kids to plump, middle-aged housewives, and they all want one thing: some imagine fucking over the weekend."
But back to Clara:
"I swung pretty good at this bar, but something was wrong. I just wasn't satisfied shacking up with one guy-not even for a couple of days. It wasn't the guy's fault. It was mine. I finally had to face the fact that I was a nymphomaniac. I needed a lot of men, and sometimes women. And I decided I'd get them, the easy way.
"I dated this bell captain from a fine hotel. I met him at the bar and spent a weekend with him. Al's a nice kid, and he's willing to do anything I want for sex kicks, but it just wasn't enough for me. Then he came up with a idea.
"We always used a room at the hotel where he worked. And one night we were having a hell of an argument because he just couldn't go anymore, and I was still frustrated and hot as a two-dollar pistol. He was putting his clothes on and when he saw how upset I was, he said, 'Christ, kid, you're missing out on a gold mine. I know twenty guys in this hotel who would pay fifty bucks to get into that box-guys who wouldn't ask questions, and you'd never see them again.'
"At the moment, I was too pissed off at him to think about it, and too frustrated from being on the edge of coming, to argue with him. We had some booze in the room and as I drank, I got madder by the minute. Finally, I told him to send up a few of those guys. I'll be goddamned if he didn't! Three of them showed up within minutes! He told me later that he was just getting even with me for being so bitchy with him.
"When the first guy walked in, I guess he thought I was just a whore, because as he started to undress, he laid a twenty on the table. I got to giggling at the idea, so I didn't let on. He climbed on top of me, and we were working away, with him fucking me from the back and me on my hands and knees, when in walks the second character. Would you believe that he just stood there grinning and watching us?
"And here's the pay-off! For the first time in over five years. I had an orgasm that really put me in orbit. At first I thought it was the guy who was jazzing me, but it couldn't have been, because he wasn't half as big or good as Al.
"After this guy had shot his load, I rolled over, spread my legs and told the other guy that he was at bat! Meanwhile, the first one was getting dressed, and had a dazed look on his face. I guess I'd given him a real ride for his dough, because he looked like he'd just won the Irish Sweepstakes. All of a sudden, the door opened and in walked another joker!
"So, for my second fuck of the session, I had an audience of two. And I came again-three times, while the guy on top came once-and the two guys who were staring with wide eyes at us re-stiffened their cocks! When we finished, the first guy asked me if he could go again, and by then I was flying. I told him he could-but only if the others could stay and watch. After each of them had fucked me twice, they ponied up the dough even though I hadn't said a word!
"Finally Al came back to the room while the guys were still there. By that time, I was pooped from all the orgasms, but they were just what I'd been dying for all these years. So we set it up for the next night. You'll think this is funny, but I gave all the money to Al, and the next night he got me a two-room suite,-and brought in another girl!
"Now I go there almost every weekend. I usually get screwed by anywhere from five to twelve guys, and it's always done with the doors wide open between the rooms. I come almost every time now. I guess I'm a weirdo, but I'm one of those who says 'amen' to the sex scene with a lot of people around. And I still don't do it for money. Al gets all the dough I make. It's worth it to me to have all the sex kicks I get. Edie, the other girl, is a regular call-girl, so she takes her share.
"I drop in at the bar once in a while. A couple of times I've taken other girls and guys on-one or two at a time. I still have to sleep with my boss a couple of nights a week, and I can enjoy that kind of sex more now, for some reason.
"What if I should marry? I won't. You can bet on that. I know now that I never could be satisfied by one man. Without others watching, I'd be a zero. If I were to marry, I guess it would be to a guy I could be honest with, and tell him right off that we'd have to join one of those mate-swapping clubs or some sort of group that goes in for sex orgies.
We asked a leading West Coast psychologist to comment on Clara's story. He was unable to do so until he had had consultations with her during which he asked some pertinent questions about her life. After several sessions, this was his comment:
"Clara told me that she was a virgin until she was sixteen. After her first sexual adventure, she had the unpleasant experience of an abortion. This caused her subconsciously to hate men because she feared them and their ability to impregnate her. Thus, she was ripe for her lesbian experiences in college.
"I have consulted several lesbians, and all seem to agree that, while they do experience orgasm with lesbian sex, the orgasm is often unsatisfactory and is not as full as the ones they have with a male. In my opinion, Clara could not relax with any of the males with whom she had intercourse. Although she attained orgasms with lesbians, she was frustrated by her subconscious desire for men.
"As to the release she experienced when she indulged in sex in front of spectators, it seems that Clara, because of her inability to achieve orgasm without an audience, had come to doubt her own sexual makeup. That is, she wondered whether or not she was really a sexually capable woman, and when she saw the admiration of the men who were present during her acts of intercourse, a subconscious release was triggered, and she then believed herself to be all woman and responded as such."
This writer had several interviews with persons who frequented a swinging bar just off San Francisco's Powell Street. The first talk was with the bartender:
"All kinds," he said with a shrug, "divorcees, bored broads from Nob Hill, they all come in for pick-ups-and they get 'em. There are a lot of college kids not yet dry behind the ears who know what this bar is for, and they grab anything they can get. Age doesn't count, so long as the broad swings.
"The ones that bug me are the young broads. When they walk in, always at least three or four together, I wish I could slap them on their asses and call their parents. Chances are, though, their folks are out at some other swinging bar, picking up kids the same age as theirs to shack up with for the weekend.
"But these young chicks-jailbait is what they are-come waltzing in and when they reach the bar I tell them to go home and do their homework. They always give me the same pitch, 'Be a doll, Frank, and steer us to some swinging "studs.' I tell them to get lost and they tell me to go fuck myself-and that's the words they use, too.
"After they've wandered around for a few minutes, the wolves close in. The next thing I know, they're all paired off, sometimes with guys older than their fathers, and then they head out."
A professor of psychiatry at a New York college of medicine writes, "Bored and frustrated individuals, no matter what their age, are prone to counteract their boredom and frustration by seeking out hectic activities which are undertaken and performed compulsively."
"Frustration and boredom," this same professor says, "are the heritage of today's youth. They have everything given them-money, cars, leisure time, personal freedom. This has to become boring, so they seek other outlets. And remember, forbidden fruit still tastes the sweetest."
This initial boredom, experts claim, carries over into the married lives of a startling number of young people. It is almost impossible for a normally healthy human being to indulge in multiple-choice sex habits while single, and then settle for one sex partner after marriage. Some, more daring or pessimistic than most, predict that by 1975 the concept of life-long, one-partner marriages will have become obsolete-so strong is the urge for multiple sex in present-day America.
A surface glance at the sexual practice of wife-swapping might lead to the conclusion that it is simply a manifestation of the desire for sexual variety. In other words, those couples who habitually trade partners in this manner do so only to expand their sex lives and vary their sexual experiences. This is true to an extent, but psychiatrists say that there are many other subtle motives for this sexual practice. Perhaps the most obvious feature of wife-swapping is that it has the effect of removing one of the major arguments against extra-marital sexual relations. It takes the element of guilt out of adultery.
It is relatively easy to understand how it has this effect. The guilt that arises in most instances of adultery is simply that one has deceived one's mate. The foremost fear of an adulterer is that he will be found out. Such fears and guilt often act as a deterrent to complete sexual gratification.
If your mate is committing adultery at the same time you are, and if both are aware of the situation, then guilt seems to disappear. Note the use of the word seems.
In his book, The Sexual Deviate, Dr. Benjamin Morse, M.D., tells of one housewife's reaction to such a situation.
"I used to have desires for other men at times," she stated, "but I felt it would be unfair to Howard, and I didn't want to wreck my marriage because I truly love him. So I kept those urges under control.
"Then one night, when we were all pretty drunk, the couple who were our best friends suggested we try the 'old switcheroo,' as Jack put it. Before we knew it, we had switched partners in the same bedroom and in twin beds, where we could all see what was going on. Now all my urges came out into the open. I knew I didn't have to keep infidelity a secret from Howard, because we were each doing the same thing and nobody was getting hurt."
The young wife's statements illustrate how this sort of group adultery eliminates, at least on the surface, not only the guilt of having cheated, but the guilt of having broken a moral law. When adultery is made a group project, each member of that group feels proportionally less guilty. Most psychiatrists state that sex without guilt is the ideal form; thus it is readily understandable how so many respectable couples have taken to this rising practice. It does improve their sex pleasure in that one respect.
There is a strong element of voyeurism in most of us. It is the desire or inclination to watch members of the opposite sex in the nude, or to watch couples in the sex act. This adds strongly to the attraction of mate-swapping. Let us hear the account of a twenty-nine-year-old man named Rex. Rex does not consider himself a sexual deviate by any standards. By psychiatric definition, he suffers extremely from voyeurism, masochism, and an inferiority complex having to do with sex.
"I knew I wasn't pleasing Mary in bed. To be truthful, she wasn't pleasing me very often, either. We both came from religious homes, and I just didn't have the guts to ask her to do some of the things I wanted to try out, like anal intercourse, fellatio and cunnilingus at the same time-the sixty-nine position. But the old-fashioned 'me-on-top,' or, occasionally, Mary taking the top position, was getting boring. I read about this wife-swapping bit, and I answered an ad in one of those underground papers.
"I told Mary that this was a swinging couple, but I didn't tell her that they were part of a sex orgy group, so she agreed to get together with them. The first evening we met with this couple, we had some drinks, then changed partners. Mary didn't object at all, but she insisted that we do it in separate rooms.
"When she got home that night, I was bursting to find out all about what positions she'd used, whether she had sucked Don's cock-all that kind of stuff. I guess I was far more interested in her sexual experiences that I was in mine, because I figured that I could adjust to anything in the sex line.
"I made her tell me in detail-including a running account of her inner feelings-about what had happened. It got me all hot when she told me. But instead of mounting her, I went into the bathroom and masturbated while envisioning Mary with this other man."
Rex' tremendous obsession with his wife's sexual activities shows us another motive for wife-swapping. As we can see, he engaged in this type of activity more because he wanted other men to have sex with his wife, than because he wanted to have sex with another woman. This is a strong indication that he was a masochistic type-that he got sexual kicks from being debased, and made to feel inferior. Psychiatrists state that this man, and those like him, strongly desired homosexual activity, but at the same time, was unwilling to participate overtly in homosexual acts. Through what psychiatrists call "transference," he was able to have such homosexual relations on an unconscious level by vicariously participating in his wife's sexual acts. He identified with her; and in his fantasies, it was he who was participating in the sex act with another man!
Rex continues: "It was only after we expanded out get-togethers to include four or five couples, and had sex with a 'no-holds-barred' attitude, that I really began to enjoy it. We talked it out, and all agreed that that phrase meant that if men wanted men, or women wanted sex with women, that was part of the game, and no questions asked.
"The first real sex orgy we had, I almost went wild! I was paired off with this woman, and I was watching one of the men sucking another guy's cock. The first thing I knew, I had this woman up on her hands and knees, and I was shoving it in her ass-hole! I kept my eyes on those two guys, and I swear, I came in her ass-hole at the same second the guy did who was being sucked off!
"Later, that same guy sucked my cock, while I was sucking Mary's pussy, but I got so carried away with having my prick in his mouth, that I didn't even concentrate on making her come-and that was the first time I had ever licked her pussy!
"Mary and I worked out a good sex life. She agreed to let me fuck her in the ass, and she always sucked my cock before we did any of the other things, and it worked out fine!"
Eventually, however, Rex insisted more and more on anal intercourse and fellatio, neglecting his wife's needs for normal intercourse, and, in her frustration, she filed for divorce. After it was granted, Rex became an out-and-out homosexual, while Mary continued on in the sex club and eventually married a divorced man whom she had met there.
Psychiatrists are almost unanimous in one belief concerning mate-swapping: that it eventually leads to many other deviations of a more violent nature. Says Dr. Benjamin Morse, "In my experience, I have never encountered a person who has been involved in wife-swapping who has not also participated in an extraordinary variety of sexual practices. Experiments with all conceivable coital positions, together with anal and oral copulation, are the rule in wife-swapping circles. Ventures into such deviant practices as flagellation, transvestism, and fetishistic behavior are also quite commonplace. The person who wants to have sex with a great many partners also wants to have sex in as many ways as possible, and for much the same reasons."
The appeal of wife-swapping is of no singular appeal to a special desire. In the sexual atmosphere of the present time, it seemingly offers a great deal to a great many, but the overall effects are scarcely so beneficial, as we shall learn from the account of June M., a woman of thirty-eight; pretty, shapely, intellectual and now a patient in a California mental institution.
"Both Joe and I were brought up in strict, inhibitive religious homes. We both were taught that sex was evil. I guess we both enjoyed sex in proportion to the evil we saw in it-the old 'forbidden fruit' angle. We had sex when we were going together but only in the regular way.
"Once or twice after we married, I tried to tell Joe that I wanted some variety. But we were both so damned guilt-ridden that we were afraid that each would think the other of us was a pervert or a queer, so we never did anything different. Then I discovered that Joe was going to this whore-she called herself a call girl, but she was a cheap bar pick-up, really. It used to sizzle me to think of the sex he was probably getting from that woman that I could probably do better and enjoy more. Finally, I faced him with it. He admitted it, claiming that he loved me, and had wanted all those things from me, but hadn't had the courage to try or to even talk about them.
"I had heard of this nine-couple mate-swapping club, right in our own neighborhood, and I was so mad that I insisted we join. I'm glad I did, in spite of everything that happened. For one thing, I learned that Joe was a fetishist. He was a pervert for analingus. He wanted to lick and suck the anus of a woman but he was too ashamed to try it on me. I learned, however, that in every case where he had had sex with another woman, he first had to lick her anus before he could get an erection!
"I never noticed this at first, because we started out by playing a game to determine partners. Or we'd have a ladies' night,' where the women chose their partners. Then, after everyone stripped, we would go to different rooms and indulge in whatever form of sex we wanted to. Even later on, when we started having the audience sex bouts, I didn't think anything of it when Joe always started by kissing the ass-hole of another woman. A couple of other men had done this also and some of the women had told me that they liked it as a warm-up for the real thing.
"I'd always wanted to put Joe's penis in my mouth and suck it until he came, but I hadn't dared. Then one night, when I was extra hot, I drew this one young married fellow; a handsome, muscular and charming man, and, according to the rules of the game that night, I had to do whatever he commanded. He demanded that I suck his penis! I admit, I was excited about it, but I was a little afraid of what Joe would think, because I'd never done it to him.
"We were all naked, and I got on my hands and knees over this fellow who was lying on the floor.
It was almost as much fun as I had thought it would be, seeing his eyes as he tried to watch me suck him off; feeling the spasms of joy go through his body. I was just getting warmed up to it when another man came over, mounted me from the rear and shoved his penis deep into my anus! It hurt a little at first, but when the others began to clap and whistle, I decided I wouldn't chicken out. So I let him finish, while I made the young fellow come.
"When we got home that night, Joe was a wild man. It wasn't jealousy-he just couldn't wait to get my clothes off and start. And, do you know what he did? He took the sixty-nine position, with his penis in my mouth, spread my legs wide, then my ass cheeks, and he just continued to lick and suck and bore my ass-hole with his tongue, until he came in my mouth! This was fine for him, but it didn't do a damned thing for me, and I told him so. But, when he tried to get hard to screw me, he couldn't. He finally got down and began to stick his tongue in my ass-hole again, and he finally got a good hard on. But when he tried to put it inside me, it folded up like a wet noodle! We ended up the evening's sex by him alternately licking my ass-hole and my vagina, while I masturbated my clitoris with my finger. Then he masturbated himself until he came.
"We went on in that frustrating way for weeks. The only real sexual satisfaction for me came at the sex orgies we attended. Oddly enough Joe could maintain his hard on after licking another woman's ass-hole. He consulted a psychiatrist friend of his, who told Joe bluntly that it was the old guilt hang-up that kept him from achieving an erection with me-he was ashamed that I knew he was an anal fetishist!
"We started our own club, only we kept it small, and we met three nights a week, so that Joe and I could have a half-way satisfactory sex life of our own.
"One night, while six of us were having an orgy in the living room, Joe's mother walked in, unannounced! Believe it or not, she had a heart attack, then and there! We rushed her to the hospital, and she later recovered. But from that moment on, all the old guilt-plus all the new guilts we had accumulated-came back to both Joe and me. I moved to the guest room and Joe went back to his whore. I couldn't stand the thought of a man touching me. What I had thought was so deliciously dirty, now became filth. Yet, I could masturbate and have an orgasm, while fantasizing about some of the sex brawls I had formerly engaged in. So long as they didn't include Joe!
"But I became irritable, and eventually, psychotic. I began to carp at Joe, blaming it all on him, until one night, I tried to kill him! He ran from the house and called the police, and I was sent to the hospital. Now, I'm glad he did. I'm going to make it, now.
"Joe divorced me the first year I was in here. I've been here eighteen months, and I'm ready to be released in another six weeks. I've gone back to my religion and my beliefs about sex. I doubt if I'll ever remarry, but I do hope to have some sort of a life. If I marry, it will have to be a man from the church. I've been the sex route. Maybe it's for some, but not for me. I'll be happy just to find a man for companionship, if that's the way it works out. But-who knows?"
Who indeed knows?
Says Dr. Donald Arbagian on this case: "Normally, society would not look upon the wife-swapper as a menace to society, nor would it recommend imprisonment or a mental institution, since no real damage has been done, as long as the consenting adults do this thing in privacy. However, this woman had become her own judge and executioner by succumbing to her own guilt feelings.
"Whether her return to her religious beliefs will be the answer, I cannot say. Sex appetites are volatile and once the chemical reaction has began, can it ever be effectively restrained?"
"I have consulted with many persons who have indulged their sexual appetites to the point of satiation. Usually, there is only one next step-sadomasochism. If this woman's guilt persists, he might well become an extreme masochist, feeling that she must be punished for her base nature and weaknesses. She would then be ripe for a cruel, sadistic man-or woman-to exploit. The more fanatic such persons become in their belief in religion as a refuge-a cure-all-the less chance they have of emerging as a healthy, sexually adjusted human being. Sex is an integral part of life. It should not be governed by religion, nor should it be observed as a religion-which is what a lot of these sex orgy clubs do. Sex tastes vary as much as do individual tastes in food. They should be, and hopefully one day will be, considered as a basic part of the total character of an individual, just as we tend to tolerate a man who happens to like mustard on his strawberries-as long as he does not force us to eat ours that way!"
As a final look at the sexual phenomenon of mate-swapping, it might be enlightening at least to skim over the case of Bill and Kate, a couple who are now under indictment for their activities in organizing and running a divorce swap club. Their story is true in every detail. Gleaned from the front pages of newspapers in the city where it took place, it has been condensed here. Bill begins:
"After ten years of happily married life, my first wife caught me making love to her best friend and divorced me. It was senseless, because I didn't care anything about that silly bleached blonde. I got drunk at a party one night and she cornered me in the den. My wife walked in on us while we were on the couch, naked. When she wailed, 'Why, Bill, why?, ' I gave her the same answer mountain climbers give when you ask them why-"because she was there." And it was the truth.
But six months after I was divorced, I met Kate. She had had a similar experience: caught by a jealous husband, beaten, tossed out and divorced. We took to each other right away. We laughed at the fact that if we hadn't been caught, we might still be happily married, for she too had loved her husband and not her lover.
"We started living together, trying to be faithful, but we had an agreement that both of us were free to do as we pleased-even sexually. But I felt like a ass. I reasoned that if a woman would toss me out after ten years of working my ass off for her, I must be a real ass. Kate had had a rough time after her divorce, too-all divorced women do. Most guys dating a divorcee figure that a dinner and a night out gets them a cheap, quick trip to the mattress.
"Kate told me that most divorced women do want sex, but they resent being treated like second-hand, marked-down goods. Anyhow, we joined one of the local country clubs. She worked and so did I, and we made good money. We had our own bunch, and were well-liked. Our closest friends were Jack and Sue. Jack was big, breezy, and witty-an outdoors guy; while Sue was cute, quite intelligent, and very quiet. First thing I knew, this little gal was getting to me-so bad that it began to affect my sex performance with Kate, who was no slouch in bed. One night, she surprised me with: "You want to go to bed with Sue, don't you?"
"We'd promised to be honest with each other, so I said, 'Yes.' Then she said, 'I've wondered what Jack would be like in bed, too.' We both were thinking the same thing, but I said that I didn't think Jack and Sue were that much 'with it.' We quickly agreed that you never knew until you tried, so we did. The next time they were to come over, I had my projector and screen set up, and was showing a film when they rang the bell. Jack asked what kind of movie I was showing, and I tried to blush as I told him it was a stag movie that Kate had begged me to let her see.
"Naturally, Jack wanted to see it, but I objected, because of Sue. He just laughed and told me that she wasn't as prissy as she might look. Sue seemed as eager to see it as Jack was, so away we went. While the film was running, Kate served some pretty potent highballs. Jack and Sue sat close, Kate and I did, also. While the film was running, Kate got up to freshen the drinks. Suddenly Sue came over and sat on my lap! When Kate saw what had happened, she calmly sat on Jack's lap. Halfway through the second reel, Kate took Jack by the hand and went into one of the bedrooms. Sue and I just used the couch, and she was great. We tried it straight, then sixty-nine. It was that experience that gave me the idea for the club.
"Later, we talked about it-the four of us. We agreed that the other guy's woman was terrific, not because she was better, but because she was different!
"Later that month, we were invited by Jack to spend a weekend at the country home of his boss. We were surprised to find that the older couple were real swingers-and so were the ten other guests who were there. It was a weekend of musical beds, so to speak, and I made up my mind right then that if this was the way people were getting their sex kicks, then there must be a way to make some money out of it.
"The old boy was all right. He admitted he liked younger women, but not the cheap showgirl, prostitute type. Before the visit was over, he'd agreed to loan me $40,000 to buy a house nearby that could be converted into a real swinging sex club!
"He even used his business experience to help me and Kate organize and incorporate the 'Society for the Study of Inter-Family Relationships in Primitive Tribes.' As a cultural organization, our expenses, trips, and get-togethers became tax-exempt! To keep the riffraff out, we set a high entrance fee and high monthly dues.
"I was certain there would be many more male applicants than females, but was I ever wrong! We ran ads in magazines, asking questions like, 'Are you married but bored?', 'Are you divorced and at loose ends?, ' 'Are you emancipated and blessed with a free-wheeling mind?', and then I described how the membership fees included use of the grounds, the pool, etc., as well as certain tax-exempt benefits.
"I expected two or three hundred replies-and received over 3,000! We had decided to limit the membership to two hundred, so we weeded out the unlikely ones as well as the obvious nuts and the degenerates. When we finished, we found that we had almost seventy-five percent women applicants! Then we narrowed it down to our limit and threw a big shindig at the place. Jack's boss picked up the tab. Each guest paid his entrance fee at that time, and it was a real ball. They all knew what they wanted, and there were no rules except against getting drunk and disorderly.
"People naturally paired off, and after a sex session with one partner, they would both return and choose a fresh one. There were plenty of secluded nooks and rooms, plus ten acres of grounds, and it was a real stately sex ball, if you could use that term.
"It went off so well that Kate and I decided to open a couple of branches in other cities. By the end of the third year, we had franchised clubs in New York, New Orleans, Chicago, Los Angeles, Miami and San Francisco.
"Usually Kate interviewed male applicants and I interviewed the women. I was curious to see what kind of a person would answer a sex ad. To my surprise, I found most of them were attractive, sympathetic and, for the most part, lonely women who simply needed sex. They just didn't know how to go about getting it in their own communities while still maintaining a semblance of respectability.
"One girl-Dora-was a tall, curvaceous redhead with a dazzling smile and a charming personality. In the interview she said, 'I was married at eighteen and divorced at twenty-six. I'm young, healthy, active. I'm not promiscuous, but I like good sex with different men. In this age of the pill, why should I be forced to remarry in order to have a full sex life?'
"Another woman gave this background: 'I was depressed after my husband divorced me. I hated men. I was so despondent and disoriented that I almost lost my job. Then my boss, an older man, took over. He was kind and understanding and I became his mistress. He died recently. I can't date younger men-I'm no floozy. Besides, younger men are selfish and demanding, and sometimes cruel. They don't take care of you when you need them. They can't come through, in a pinch, like older men do.'
"Well, we had them all ages and sizes and with all types of personalities and we managed to keep everyone happy. One man told Kate, 'I always look for a girl I really go for, then we live together until the attraction wears thin. I've been married and somehow, after the knot has been tied, women change. They don't cater to you like they do when it's a living-in-sin deal.'
"Many married couples applied, and Kate and I interviewed them together. I always dug deep into the reasons why a married couple would want to indulge in sexual swapping. As one middle-aged man put it, 'After twenty years of married life, my sex drive fell away to nothing. I got so I didn't care where my wife went, just so I didn't have to go along. Then I went to Vegas for a convention, hooked up with a showgirl for a couple of nights, and discovered that I still had a lot of sex drive left-with another woman! Then my wife discovered me screwing a young next-door-neighbor on her kitchen table. When my wife walked in, all she said was: 'Really, Arthur! On the kitchen table?' That broke everybody up, and later that night, I slept with the girl and my wife ended up in bed with her husband; Now, we can have some sex fun, even if we are in our fifties!"
"Finally, the authorities cracked down on our clubs. Their method was cancellation of our tax-exemption as a cultural society, a status which several states had also questioned. They hit us with a tax bill for five years. Of course, the real reason was because of the pressure of a bunch of Bluenoses who couldn't stand the thought of mature adults living mature sex lives as they wanted to.
"What's wrong with a couple of thousand men and women being happy and not harming anyone-not boozing it up to drunkenness, not using drugs or LSD or pot? In my experience with the clubs, I found that people who are fulfilled sexually are the happiest, most productive persons in society. Their outlook is healthy. I maintain that if there were a thousand such clubs, you would see , an end to alcoholism, drug addiction, prostitution, and a hell of a lot of other problems. Most of all, you'd see an end to a hell of a lot of marital unhappiness! And I'll fight to the Supreme Court for this. To the freedom of speech, freedom of religion and freedom of political choice, we should add the freedom of sexual behavior!"
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sex And The Over-Sexed
Satyriasis is the term used to describe compulsive sexual drive in the male, and the female variation of this is nymphomania. Popular usage may have distorted the true meaning of these terms. There are many forms of compulsive promiscuity, and all are characterized by a multiplicity of casual and indiscriminate sexual contacts. But satyriasis and nymphomania are reserved, by psychiatrists, to refer to a few special varieties of promiscuity.
Both types, contrary to popular belief, are not necessarily over-sexed, and may even be essentially frigid. This appears to be paradoxical only because it is difficult to understand that promiscuity and frigidity can go hand in hand. One would think that a person who cannot get true fulfillment from sex would not over-indulge in it. Actually, the person who is totally frigid is not going to become a satyr or a nymphomaniac. Total frigidity incorporates the inability to gain any pleasure whatsoever from sex. In males, the inability to gain an erection is implicit in this concept, and a male without a stiff penis would obviously be unable to function is a satyr, even if, for some unfathomable reason, he should want to.
But the satyr is only partially frigid. He definitely does obtain pleasure and excitement from sex; however, his sexual experiences, myriad and stimulating as they may be, never provide the ultimate in satisfaction. He may never have an orgasm. He may ejaculate prematurely or he may have orgasms which do not give him total release or satisfaction. In rare cases, he may even suffer from an affliction called priapism, which is a constant erection that cannot be deflated, no matter how much coitus he may indulge in. Because he lives in a perpetual state of sexual frustration, and because he does get pleasure and excitement from sex (though not satisfaction or fulfillment), he seizes every opportunity for sexual relations, hoping urgently each time that this time may bring him satisfaction.
"His sex life might be illustrated by thinking of a man on a desert, dying of thirst, who keeps seeing a beautiful, cool lake. He arrives there only to find it is a mirage. But, just over the next sand dune, there lies another chance-so he struggles on. hoping that next time he will find the real thing."
Many argue that because satyriasis is something a man cannot help, and which usually leads him to seek sexual satisfaction through numerous but normal outlets, he should not be classed as a sexual deviate. Case histories, however, tend to show that in his pursuit of sexual satisfaction, the satyr may be driven to indulge in almost every sexual deviation known to man. Let us look at a typical case: that of Don W.
Don has been married three times. He is forty-two, and has been jailed three times for sex offenses. In accordance with the law, he is now registered with the State of California as a sex offender. Each of his divorces was instigated by him, and in no case was infidelity involved.
"I wanted to be a priest, up until I was fifteen. Maybe I would have been, if it hadn't been for my sister, Jewel. She was a year younger than I, and a real pig. A slut. I knew she was fucking guys when she was only twelve years old, but I never told anyone about it-not even her. She used to parade around in front of me, nearly naked, sometimes. She used to make fun of me wanting to be a priest, and tried to get me to look at her naked body, but I never did.
"When I was fifteen, I screwed her girlfriend and after that she stopped teasing me. Besides, I changed my mind about being a priest. When she found out from her big-mouthed girlfriend, Abby, that I'd fucked her, my sister came at me harder than ever. She used to sneak into my bedroom at night after everybody else was asleep, stark-ass naked, and try to play with my dick. She'd say things like, 'Come on, Donnie, I'm a better lay than Abby, give me a try.' I used to slap her on the ass and tell her to wash out her mouth and her cunt with soap to get the dirtiness out of them.
"She left home when she was seventeen, and went into burlesque. I never saw her dance, but she was going pretty good for a while. Then she got hooked on dope. When she was nineteen, she died from an overdose. I can see her yet, with her nice body and nice face, standing there naked, and I wish I'd had done what she wanted me to. But I couldn't, then."
Dr. Benjamin Morse, on satyrs: "It is the satyr's inability to find total satisfaction in intercourse that is most likely responsible for the development of satyriasis. Fear, hate, incest-wishes, these and other forces may give rise to the described condition. When it comes into being, the condition sets up the same vicious circle arrangement which we find in true nymphomania. Each and every failure to find sexual fulfillment and release, acts as a spur to make sexual satisfaction all the more essential and desirable to the satyr, and each failure further reinforces the pattern which has led to failure in the first place."
Don goes on, "I started screwing regular after Abby. Sometimes her, sometimes older girls, but it never seemed any good. Later I would masturbate and think about a girl I'd screwed, but I never got any real kick out of the fucking itself. Then I met this queer named Ken. We went the whole route. He used to suck my cock twice a day, and I'd fuck him in the ass-hole sometimes. But it was still the same thing. I'd come, all right, but I'd have to go and masturbate later. I never sucked his cock nor any guy's for that matter, and I never let anybody shove a cock up my ass. Ken brought a bunch of other queers around, but it didn't work for me so I knocked it off.
"I went to work as a stagehand in a burlesque house, figuring I'd get plenty of chances for some good ass. And I did, too. Then I married one of those tramps, and she wasn't any better than any of the rest of the dames I'd screwed. She tried everything. She sucked me, we tried sixty-nine sex from the front, the back, upside down, sitting, standing-it was no good. Worst of all, I couldn't seem to make her have an orgasm very often-maybe once in twenty times-so she started fucking around with other guys who could. She got a divorce in Reno while she was in a strip show there, and after that I quit burlesque.
"You might not believe this, but it's the God's truth. At times, I've had intercourse with women as much as twenty times a day! Not every day, of course, but some days."
Psychiatrists' casebooks contain records of this type, and in a series of tests conducted on satyrs, three men actually completed the sex act over thirty times-without ever once feeling fulfillment.
"I answered one of the ads in the paper and got into a sex club where they had group sex sessions with everybody in the same room. That was the closest I came to really getting my rocks off, but still it wasn't quite the real thing. I still used to have to masturbate two or three times a day, and I still spent all the money I could make, paying women to have sex with me.
"Then one night I was at this whorehouse, and I couldn't keep a hard on. The girl had sucked me hard and then tried to put my cock in her cunt. I'd ordered a half-and-half job, but I just wasn't up to it. All of a sudden, she got up, grabbed a leather belt and taunted, 'I know what you need, Buster!' She began to hit me on my stomach, cock, and balls with that belt, and she wasn't fooling. She left big red welts on me. I rolled over and she laid it on my ass and back. When she had finished, I had the biggest hard on that I'd ever had in my life! And I wanted to plow her like I'd never plowed a dame before.
"She laid down on top of me and put my pecker in her wet slot, and man, it was like heaven. All the time she was moving her ass up and down, sheathing my prick in her warm, wet box, she kept raking my back with her fingernails. I don't know if I really came or not. I juiced inside her, but it wasn't what I expected a good fuck to be. Still, it was the best I'd ever had. Even now, when I jerk off, I think of that naked broad, standing there, wielding that belt!
"I've been back there a dozen times, and I always want the same whore and the same treatment. Sometimes I come home in agony from the open sores that the belt leaves. A couple of times, she used a hairbrush. That's almost as good, but not quite. I've had to go to a doctor to have the cuts and bruises looked after, but I'm hooked. I'm sure that one of these nights, I'm going to explode inside that broad like a bomb! Then, I just know it will be the same with every other dame I fuck!"
It should be obvious from the above that satyriasis is no pleasure for the individual who is unfortunate enough to suffer from it. But because of the excessive premium we insist upon placing on a high frequency of sexual activity, we persist in viewing the satyr as a sort of sexual superman. Dr. Donald Arbagian says: "The satyr goes from woman to woman, sometimes with unbelievable frequency, partly because he hopes to meet the one woman who will satisfy him, and partly because it is unlikely that any woman could bear up under the sexual frequency he requires. He is thought to be more potent than most males, able to sustain intercourse longer, blessed with a more sizable organ, abnormally attractive to women and unusually skilled in arousing and satisfying his partners.
"This is all nonsense. One in twenty thousand satyrs are that way because of a glandular malfunction. Almost all of them suffer from a severe emotional hang-up. His organ is neither larger nor smaller than the average male's and although he is sexually potent when he is with a female, this, in his emotional state, can be more of a curse than a blessing."
Nymphomania is the term best used to describe this condition in females. In most cases, the causes are the same. Psychiatrists now have formed a pattern based on hundreds of cases, which indicates that one of the prime causes of nymphomania is the subconscious incest wish. The incest wish may begin in childhood as part of a parent fixation: the sex attraction of a young female for her father, or a young male for his mother.
Briefly stated, it is a situation occurring normally in a child's development, where he wishes to replace the parent whom he considers his sexual rival. However, if the desire becomes abnormal and continues into adult life, then the person so afflicted is in trouble-sexually.
One may ask, "How can an Oedipus complex trigger nymphomania or satyriasis? " Possibly the story of Susan will serve to answer this question.
Susan is twenty-nine, attractive and intelligent. Yet she continually drives men away because of her insatiability. She is never satisfied with sex and often is unable to bring to climax the men with whom she sleeps.
Fortunately, Susan sought professional help and she was honest with her psychiatrist. Sex had become an obsession with her, and the quantity and indiscriminate nature of her sexual contacts suggested the genuine nymphomaniac. Dr. Donald Arbagian relates the case: "In our initial conversation, Susan indicated that she did enjoy sex except for the climax. She revealed to me that the climax was her whole trouble, explaining that while the sensations of sex were very pleasurable, she reached the point of orgasm with feelings of guilt, disgust, self-loathing, and hate for her partner. Here is her history."
"I do have orgasms almost all of the time, but I just don't get anything out of the climaxes. I don't get any release-any inner satisfaction from the whole bit. I like the guys I screw with, but I never get what I want from them. I really don't know what I want. Maybe peace, happiness, contentment, or some exotic sensation is what I'm after, but all I can think of when I come is that there's something missing.
"I was an only child. My daddy was a writer. At first he wrote advertising copy, then later it was radio shows and finally movie scripts. He was a brain. He was smart and suave-the kind of a man that any wife would be proud to stand beside-except my mother, the slob. She was a dum-dum. She once wanted to be a nun, but after she met my father she decided that fucking was more important than God. But I think she got to feeling guilty and hung-up about it because she was always telling me about the sinful life. To her, everything my father did was sinful and rotten. Where my father was a warm person, my mother was exactly the opposite. She believed that sex was dirty and evil. Besides that, she was a semi-invalid from the time I was five and I doubt if my father ever had any sex with her after that. Even if he did, her attitude must have made it a real ordeal for him. As a result, he ran around a lot with women and drank pretty heavily.
"My father had a hot affair going with a neighbor for a while. I know, because I walked in on them one day when I was ten. The strange part is that I was glad for him. I could tell he was happy, and that made me happy. I guess I despised my mother by then, and I'd already decided that I wasn't going to live a life like hers. I wanted to enjoy life-like my daddy did.
"When I was twelve, a girl at school gave me my first lesbian experience. In fact, it was my first sex experience, outside of a few feels that the boys tried to grab. This girl was fifteen and she lived near us. I stayed at her house all night and we slept in the same bed. I'll never forget the way she looked at me when I undressed. My breasts were beginning to fill out and I had fairly thick pubic hair. She undressed first, and as I stripped, she fingered the nipple of my breast, telling me what nice titties I had. I felt ashamed and guilty, but at the same time I got a new feeling. She pulled me into bed without any nightgown on, and in a minute she was kissing my breasts and stomach. I loved the sensation, but I wanted to stop her because I knew it was dirty.
"But I couldn't stop. When she spread the lips of my vagina and began to tickle my clitoris with her tongue, I went wild. She tickled and tormented me for almost ten minutes. Then she switched and used her finger. I would be right on the edge of an orgasm, then I'd remember what I was doing, and I couldn't bring myself to a climax. But she wasn't bothered at all and I made her come twice.
"We tried it lots of times after that, and sometimes there were three or four of us involved. I enjoyed it, right up to the final stages, but I never did have an orgasm.
"My mother died when I was fourteen. The night she died, my girlfriend came and stayed with me and we tried to have sex. I couldn't do much for her. I felt so sorry for my daddy but I was also glad that he was now free. I felt listless and Emma kept trying to make me come. Suddenly there was my father standing in the doorway! Emma was down between my legs, and her tongue was in my vagina.
"Daddy was quiet about it, but he told Emma to get dressed and go home. Then he came in to talk with me. I could always talk to him, but this time I was too ashamed. I just cried. He put his arms around me and told me it wasn't all that bad. He kissed me and before I knew it, I was kissing him back, sticking my tongue into his mouth. I could feel his penis getting hard through his pants. I was so wild with wanting him that I begged him to do something.
"He took off his clothes and started kissing my breasts. Then he spread my legs and began to finger me. I got so hot and wet, I thought I'd have an orgasm that way, but I didn't. He finally got on top of me and eased his penis into my vagina. I guess my cherry had been broken long before, because I didn't bleed. It was so wonderful, feeling him deep inside of me like that, all the time he was kissing me on the mouth.
"He came real quick and I almost did, too. But just as I knew I was going to, the picture of my mother flashed across my mind, and I hated myself. I didn't hate my father, just myself. Maybe I hated my mother for putting the idea that sex was evil in my mind. Daddy tried hard. He kissed my clitoris, my breasts, used his fingers, and then tried to screw me again, but I couldn't come.
"I never again tried it with girls. I just couldn't. I had known that it would be good with my daddy, and I knew after I'd had him, that it was far better with boys than with girls. We tried again, many times, but I don't think I ever came. Maybe I'm built funny. Or maybe I came and didn't realize it because I was expecting skyrockets to explode. I don't know. Doctors have examined me and told me there is nothing physical stopping me from having a full, satisfying orgasm.
"Two months after my mother died, my father was killed in an accident. I went to live with his sister. He left me a lot of insurance money, and I wanted to get away from the place after he died.
"It was then that I started to be what the guys in school called a pushover. I wanted to be laid, every time I went on a date. I got in with this gang that were hung-up on motorcycles. They weren't like the Hell's Angels or anything like that, but they used to take these weekend trips and have a wild sex brawl. I still hadn't had an orgasm, and I was willing-even eager-to try it with anybody, hoping that the next guy would be the one to give me that thrill.
"Then I met Harry. He's colored, and he worked at the gas station where we used to get our gas. He was sharp with motors, and used to fix our motorcycles. I saw him looking at me one day, and I suddenly wondered if it were true what I'd heard; that Negro men have bigger penises than white men do and are also better in bed. So I asked him if he'd take me out on a date. At first, he wouldn't. He said I'd be sorry. He was a pretty decent sort of a guy. But I kept after him until he did take me out. We went to a nightclub in his part of town, and I got pretty drunk. We left with two other Negro couples and went to one of their houses, and it was a real gang bang.
"First, Harry had me. Just straight intercourse, while the others watched. I think I almost came with Harry, and I begged him to keep on, but one of the other fellows wanted me. He just took me all wet and juicy from Harry, and I remember thinking that h"e had the biggest penis I'd ever seen. It must have been nine inches long. Harry took on one of the colored girls, and I was watching them while the other guy fucked me. I think that I really came, with that big black dick inside me, but I was so terribly drunk that I can't say for sure.
"I went out with Harry a lot after that. But the old gang just turned cold when I started dating a Negro. They gave Harry a bad time, and he eventually lost his job. I loaned him a thousand dollars, and he started his own gas station in his neighborhood. When my aunt found I was dating a Negro she kicked me out, so I just moved in with Harry. Somehow, he couldn't satisfy me, and I began running around with other guys-black and white. I knew, deep down inside, that it was ridiculous, yet I kept hoping that sex would give me what I wanted. I even tried the lesbian route. It was at a party, and this colored girl kept after me until I let her go down on me."
Dr. Arbagian comments on Susan's progress: "Essentially, Susan's pattern followed a pretty straight line for the Oedipal type. She adored her father and despised her mother. She felt a disgust for the feminine characteristics that her mother misused, and this left her very ripe for lesbian experiences because she identified with the male, her father, and not her mother. She was also very confused about sex, due to her mother having constantly told her that it was dirty and evil.
"Usually, in these circumstances, many females might have followed a straight pattern of lesbianism. But when Susan's incestuous feelings for her father burst forth and were satisfied, she chose nymphomania instead of homosexuality. I am fairly sure that she has had a full orgasm. She may have had many. Perhaps she herself feels she has, but the guilt feelings are still very deep in her. I hope sincerely that, with a few more sessions-she is in group therapy now-Susan will be able to understand herself much better, and throw off the guilt feelings. Actually, she added to them by dating Harry, the Negro man, because she drew the disapproval of her close friends and of her aunt, and this further added to her feelings of deep guilt.
"Susan could not tell me why she was attracted to a Negro, and on a hunch I asked her to let me see a picture of her father. I was not too surprised to find that he had been a very swarthy complected man and, according to her, there actually was a strong facial resemblance between her father and Harry!
"Like most nymphomaniacs, she is constantly chasing the incest wish. She has, however, recognized the incest wish for what it is, and for several months has not had any sexual activity at all. If she can begin to have normal sex relations without feeling guilty, there is a good chance that Susan might yet enjoy a healthy sex life, for she has made progress in eliminating the two causes-incestuous feelings about her father, plus guilt feelings about all sex being evil, which is a legacy from her mother."
CHAPTER NINE It Starts In The Teens
The 1960's have given rise to a new aspect of the sexual phenomenon-the hippies. And one of the most startling things about this is the extreme youth of many of them. Police records show an alarming number of girls between twelve and fifteen who have voluntarily become little more than community whores, willing to engage in sex in order to eat, to spite protesting parents and other persons in authority, or even just for the kicks they get from it.
That early indulgence in sex orgies, or a continual string of multiple sex experiences must eventually pall, is almost axiomatic. Penny S., now twenty-two, has run the gamut of sex, and for all reasons imaginable. She has tried LSD, marijuana, heroin, and every kind of alcoholic mixture known, to rejuvenate her early interest in sex. Strangely enough, she has not tried lesbianism, but in her constant search for sex kicks, Penny has turned to sadism and masochism in. its most brutal form.
like many hippies, Penny comes from a well-to-do family. At twelve she began to date regularly, and her parents were reasonably permissive as long as the dates remained strictly at her age level. That is, she could attend school athletic events, a movie on Friday night, or a party at the home of one of her friends if it was supervised by adults. But Penny rebelled at this and took to sneaking out for dates with older boys. Penny had lost all respect for her parents early in life. She considers her father a "doormat" upon whom her mother wipes her feet. Her mother, in Penny's estimation, is a selfish "butch" type of woman who dominates every group or person with whom she comes in contact.
Partially because of this, Penny is a man-hater, although not to the degree where she prefers sex with females. She herself is a dominating personality, yet she is disgusted with the men she rules. She can no longer get her sex .kicks by ordinary forms of intercourse. Instead, she must use physical violence and debasement on males.
"Men are pigs. They deserve what they get from women, just like my father did. If you don't have the guts to stand up and fight for something, you deserve the loser's end of the shitty stick!
"When I was fifteen years old, I had a couple of men in their forties who would do any damned thing I wanted, just for a piece of ass! They would let me piss in their mouths, if I wanted to, in order to get into my pussy. I have guys right now that actually beg me to whip them-the mangy rats!
"I was one of the first real hippies," Penny claims with pride. "You might think that this started a few years ago, but it's been going on for almost seven years. I left home when I was fourteen, and lived with a bunch of kids my age. We stayed wherever we could and shared everything-food, clothes, money and bodies.
"I wouldn't call the sex we had gang bangs. There was no violence in it. You just screwed who you wanted to, or whoever asked you to. Oh, I've had three or four guys at one session, but it wasn't like they were fighting over me or anything. It was just that maybe a couple of the other girls wouldn't be in the mood to take them on, or maybe I'd be feeling extra hot.
"It was only after they busted up our group that the gang sex kick started. Even then, it was the girls who wanted it that way, not the mealy-mouthed guys.
"Maybe it was a good thing they did bust it up. I was using marijuana a lot, and had tried heroin once or twice, and there was a lot of the kids that were using it pretty heavy. We started to meet at this one guy's apartment. I was living with two guys in an empty room in the back of a store where one of them worked. We used to feed the rest of the gang, but they were on their own when they wanted booze or pot or dope.
"It happened sort of funny. The old guy that owned the building asked me if I'd let him watch one of our parties. So one night I did. There were seven or eight of us and we told him if he brought some booze, he could stay. We had a few drinks, then we started messing around. Then 'old John' got into the act. He said he'd never seen a daisy chain, and he'd pay twenty bucks if we'd show him one. So, all of us formed one. I was sucking a guy's cock, while another guy was eating my pussy. And it was the same all the way down the line-somebody getting sucked off while another sucked off somebody else. We had a pretty good session, and nobody paid much attention to the old guy, but he's sitting in a corner jerking himself off like crazy. I don't know why he didn't ask for a piece of ass-he could have had it.
Instead, he just sat there masturbating. But he can't get a hard on, and he came over and almost cried as he asked if one of the girls would whip him with a belt.
"I had never done anything like that, but I didn't like the old bastard much, so I thought that if that was what he wanted, he might as well get it. He stripped off his pants and underwear and laid down on the floor while the rest of us watched. I started off easy, but he kept begging me to hit him harder, and I really let him have it across his ass and legs. When I saw the marks begin to rise every time I hit him. I began to get a funny feeling. I got hot as a firecracker, but not for the old guy. I just wanted somebody to fuck me, hard and quick and deep. I could always have a good orgasm with some guy who had a big dick if he'd do it from the back. So I dropped the belt and called out to Rich, my favorite screw, to mount me from the back. I started to get on my hands and knees, and damned if the old boy didn't beg me to position myself with my cunt over his face, so he could watch!
"I got down over him, and Rich went to work-just as I like it, with hard, fast jabs. The old guy is lying there, and he had a pretty fair stiff on, for a guy his age, and he's larruping the hell out of it with his hand. I mean, he's actually whacking it from left to right. All of a sudden, he begins to pump it like crazy, and he shoots a load! Just about then, I came-real good--and so did Rich. When Rich pulled his cock out of me, all slimy and cruddy, this old guy goes after it! He really licked it and swallowed the juice and stuff, and he got Rich good and hard again. He managed to grab the belt and hand it back to me, and while he's down on Rich I gave him a few good whacks on his legs and ass.
"We talked about it later, and I got the idea
I'd like to see what this sadism bit was all about. I'd seen the kooky ads in the underground paper that one of the guys always brought around, but I thought they were just a put-on. Anyhow, I answered one that had some jazz about discipline in it, and what an awakening I got!
"After I got checked out so they knew I wasn't a fink, I went to this place in the Valley. It was a imagine joint up in the hills, and it was hidden from everything by big trees and bushes. There were about nine other people there, around the pool and patio area, and every one of them was naked. Nobody introduced anyone, but after a couple of drinks, we all gathered around a ping pong table and they played 'put and take,'-their way. Everybody had to take turns spinning this metal top that was flat on six sides. If it stopped on 'put,' you had to dish out the whipping or whatever. If it stopped on 'take,' you received the punishment, but you could name your own poison.
"I found out that almost everyone there needed some sort of physical punishment to stimulate them to have sex. I was honestly curious. I couldn't see why anyone would get a kick out of being beaten, but they seemed to, so I decided to find out just what the hell it did for you.
"When it came my turn to 'take,' I asked the youngest girl there what would be best for me, since it was my first time. She said the hairbrush-and lightly, the first time. So I picked this man, about forty, I'd say, who looked like he'd be a good lay, and I made him lie on his back on a mat they had while I got on top of him. He was already good and hard, and I just eased my snatch down over his tool, and we went to work. He was good, and I almost had forgotten about the hairbrush he had in one of his hands, when-he let me have it right on my ass! It stung like hell and I almost screamed. But he hit me another hard smack on the upper thigh, and all of a sudden I wanted to really be fucked! We went to work, faster and faster, with me doing most of the plunging, and he began to beat me with that hairbrush in a sort of rhythm that kept pace with my bouncing up and down on his cock. Each time he'd catch me on the rise. Then, at the end, he just let me have it as hard as he could, and I came in a big blaze of glory. I felt like I'd been tossed in a cold shower. I felt invigorated and different, and I was disappointed to discover that the guy hadn't come at all.
"We reversed positions, and I beat the hell out of his ass and legs while he was screwing me. And I came again, real good-not quite like the first time, but good-just before he did.
"That was my first time, but it sure as hell wasn't my last. I seldom go for straight stuff now. I've gotten to be pretty good with a belt, a whip and a hair brush. My favorite is to have a third party whip the both of us while we're screwing. That way, they can aim the cuts where they do the most good and really make them count."
Why do some people need to be physically hurt in order to enjoy sex? Most authorities agree that such persons suffer tremendously from a repressed guilt, and actually feel that they are rightfully being punished for having broken the laws of morality by which they were raised. This girl, for instance, was a rebel from her early youth. She was sexually promiscuous in defiance of the rules laid down by her parents. She had built up, over the years, a huge burden of guilt, and her first spanking with a hair brush actually served as a release. Thus, she enjoyed sex more fully as she unconsciously felt that she had paid for it!
Penny also had a strong compulsion to deal out punishment. Her actions were designed to shame and thereby punish her parents. She received a vicarious thrill from beating the first victim of her lust, 'old John', because she subconsciously connected him with her father. She admitted that she had often wanted to shake her father until his teeth rattled, when he meekly submitted to the mother's demands or orders. Almost subconsciously, Penny equates all men with her father, and she gains considerable emotional release when she can administer punishment and pain.
This mixture of sadomasochism is not unusual, especially in a person as young as Penny who has engaged in many varieties of sexual experiences.
Her attitude concerning sex had degenerated to the point where normal intercourse or even cunnilingus and fellatio were boring. Consequently, she joined a small army of thrill seekers. She had already tried stimulants such as alcohol and narcotics and had discovered that they are depressants rather than stimulants. The strong urge to punish her parents, combined with her unsatisfied desire for sexual excitement, led Penny easily into sadomasochism. And most psychiatrists agree that this is a sex pattern that is very difficult to break.
Everyone seems to have an opinion explaining the teen-ager's rejection of the "establishment" and it's conventional sex pattern.
Police are now saying that teen-agers are bored with life. Nothing seems to give them a thrill, nor to satisfy their desire for kicks. They have r all the advantages of life handed to them on a silver platter by doting parents. Now, they are demanding and taking more sexual freedom. They flaunt the use of drugs and pot as they protest against every form of authority, and often they take the law into their own hands. Failing that, they simply ignore the law and live by their own rules.
Listen to the defiant attitude expressed by a fourteen-year-old girl who was recently an overnight sensation in the Southern California press when she chose to tell all about the workings of her gang. She had been sentenced to a term in a juvenile institution with the added injunction that she be given psychiatric help. Her name is not Emmy, but we shall call her that. Here is her story:
"You squares give us a pain in the ass. Just because you were brought up by a bunch of dumdums who don't know what the hell life is all about, why pass it on to us? We've found our own answers, and we couldn't live long enough to get this crummy world out of the mess you've handed us.
"Why not sex-lots of it, with both males and females? What are you offering us instead? The 'establishment's' version of the good things? Well, let me tell you a little about my life, and see if you'd want to accept it or do something to change it. First, the shoes of Mommy and Daddy that I'm supposed to step into.
"My first sex experience was as a spectator. Oh, they didn't know I was watching, but by the time they got all hot for each other and half loaded, they wouldn't know if 'Big Brother' himself was watching. Yeah, my parents were part of one of those swap and slop clubs. You didn't know that's what the kids call them, did you? And, after what I saw, I'd say it's a good name for them.
"It was a Saturday night, and I was supposed to be staying at a girlfriend's. But they got unexpected company at her house and there was no room for me so I just went home. I knew by all the cars parked at our place that a party was going on. I had known for a long time the kind of parties they had, because my father got kind of jealous when he saw my mother eating another man's dick, and he let her know in no quiet way that he didn't mind her sucking a guy off, but she didn't have to act as if she was crazy about his hunk of meat!
"I sneaked in and watched from the upstairs landing. When some of them came upstairs and used my bedroom, I ran and got in my closet. After they really got going, I could just stand right in the doorway and nobody even noticed. First, five guys came up to my room. I thought they were waiting for the women, but they weren't. They began a wild circle of sucking cocks, and shoving their dicks up other men's asses, while sucking somebody else. One guy took a hell of a lot of Polaroid shots and showed them around. They all laughed like hell and made remarks about the size of somebody's cock, or how stretched out and useless another guy's ass-hole had become from having too many big dicks shoved up into it-stuff like that.
"Then three women came up and went down on each other. The same guy took pictures of them from all angles while they kissed and licked each other's pussy. Actually, when some of the others came up later and did some plain screwing, I was kind of bored by it all.
"So why make a big deal out of the beach party I was at when they arrested me? We didn't do anything worse than those so-called adults had done-except for the barbiturates."
Emmy and three others had forcibly stuffed almost two dozen barbiturate pills down the throat of a thirteen-year-old girl, and made her swallow them by forcing a boy's penis into her mouth. Fortunately, an older boy sobered up enough to get the girl to a hospital where she eventually recovered. However, she suffered a severe nervous disorder after her ordeal.
"That little cock-teaser was asking for it," Emmy continued. "She wanted to be one of the big girls, but she thought that all she had to do was to let somebody screw her. We don't play it that way in our gang. You go the whole route, with boys and girls, and any way they can think of for kicks. She was all hot and bothered to have the guys fuck her, front and back, but when they wanted her to suck, she acted like we were a bunch of sex perverts for even asking. That's what she called me, in fact. I got mad, then, and told her that she was not only going to suck the guy's cocks', but she was going to go down on the girls-starting with me!
"My start? Hell, I was smoking pot when I was in junior high. I lost my cherry in seventh grade-and to a man, not a dumb kid. One of my father's trusted friends, a guy he worked with. But I made that sonofabitch pay. I was his babysitter, and on the way home he made a couple of passes. I slapped him, and he hit me on the chin. When I came to, he had this big, fat cock shoved into me. I let him finish-I even helped himand then I socked it to him! I told him that unless I got twenty bucks a week, I would go to my father and to the cops. The bastard begged and cried about his three kids and his innocent wife. But I made the cocksucker pay off good-and he came up with the scratch every Friday just like clockwork. He knew he'd better. I used the dough to get pot and booze.
"They were glad to get rid of me that weekend I got into trouble with the fuzz. And why not? They were scheduled to have another of their sex orgies at our place, and my being away made it easier for them. I had a big date with a nineteen-year-old guy named Bill-he had the keys to his parents' place down at the beach. Real private, you know, with nobody to bother you, and all the booze and food you could want.
"There must have been about thirty of us there. We started out with a swim, and built a big fire on the beach. We had a bunch of Polish sausages that we were going to roast. Ever see them? They're long and round and about the size of a well-hung cock! There was this dumb kid there-I didn't want her along anyhow-she was trying to act so grownup, and she had hardly any hair on her snatch-who really burned me up. I told her she couldn't handle any of the cocks that were there, and to prove it, I measured her by sticking one of the sausages up her cunt. If she didn't holler at that, then she could take on one of the guys.
"She got mad, and told me that at least the guys wouldn't want a wide-open, outsized hole like mine. That did it. Two of the other girls took off her bathing suit and held her down, and I shoved this goddamned sausage into her cunt until I felt it hit bottom-or top. Another girl got another sausage and dipped it in mustard and shoved it in, after I took the first one out. Talk about yell! Then a couple of the guys washed her out and gave her a good screw. One of them told me later that he thought she actually was a cherry, and had been talking like that from all the booze she'd slugged down. She kept threatening that she'd call the cops, at the first phone she could find, and that made a lot of us mad. That's when we gave her the pills, to quiet her down. I guess we were pretty drunk, too, because we didn't know that there were as many as they said at the hospital after they pumped her stomach out.
"I gave her the teeny bopper douche, too. You don't know what that is? Man, are you square! What the hell do you think we do to keep from getting pregnant, and to keep ourselves douched out clean? Those birth control pills are hard to get, man. But, we don't need them. All you have to have is a few bottles of soda pop around. After you've been fucked, you uncap a bottle, stick your thumb in the opening and shake like hell, until it's all ready to fizz. Then, you shove the bottle up your snatch and let go! Man, it cleans you out like nothing else. Some say the lemon is better. Usually, we have the boys do it. I get a special kick out of a couple of the guys who will fuck you good, use the douche, then go down on you and suck it all out of you."
Is Emmy typical? Hardly, but she is not as unusual as some would like to think. Dr. Donald Arbagian comments: "Many adults, and particularly psychologists and psychiatrists, are as stunned as the parents of such children-and this girl of fourteen is still a child. However, we are astonished and puzzled at their attitudes as much as we are by their acts. Most of those I have studied or come in contact with, actually believe that they have the unquestioned right to do these things!
"Almost as one, they loudly cry that we, the adults, are doing exactly as they are, perhaps even more perverted acts, but that we hide it, while they bring it out into the open! The average teenager today wails that he is the victim of 'Do as I say and not as I do' preachings, and as a practicing psychologist, I must admit that they have a right to see examples, and not just hear admonitions and tongue-cluckings from their elders!
"I am of the firm opinion that not only is plural sex and the outright sex orgy here to stay, but that it is on the rise! We must not forget that, inside a few short years, these will be the adults who will govern our country. I believe that, for better or for worse, we will see a relaxing not only of sex mores, but of the laws governing sexual behavior, which will make us a nation of sex-oriented pioneers!
"Most observers agree. There can no longer be casual bystanders, for too many of us are involved-through ourselves or through our children-in the sexual merry-go-round. It is with concern that we gaze at the youngsters, and ask in quiet desperation, "Where do we go from here?"
For today's teen-ager, the question of "where to go" can be easily answered with his car and his weekly allowance. To the teen-ager, a car provides mobility, a status symbol and a private bedroom. If he can not have plural sex at home, his car can take him and his friends as well to where the action is. The gang bang has become an adventure to the youth of today. It is made easy by the availability of cars which permit them to range far from their own neighborhoods, thereby avoiding possible recognition. In addition to mobility, the car itself offers a great deal of privacy. In many urban communities, the rule of the affluent teen-ager has become one of illicit sex and liquor, often leading to terror, rape and even violent death.
The parking lots and the drive-in theaters and restaurants have become the domain of the thrill-seeking, sex-conscious teen-agers. In one Eastern city recently, adults passing by a drive-in hamburger stand were intrigued by a huge circle of teen-agers who massed around a convertible in the parking lot. Thinking that a fight might be taking place, a couple of men made a path through the crowd. They were dumbfounded to discover that a high school girl was in the car, naked and enjoying intercourse with two boys at the same time-one normally and the other oral-genitally. The others watched and applauded while awaiting their turn!
Delinquency at drive-in theatres has gotten so far out of hand that many managers now employ a staff of private policemen to maintain law and order. Often, this is not enough. At one suburban Chicago drive-in, several private policemen tried to remove two carloads of teen-agers who were drunk, using obscene language, and indulging in open intercourse. In the ensuing melee, during which knives, clubs, bottles and tire irons were used, the hoodlums inflicted serious injuries on two of the policemen and wrecked over $3,000 worth of sound equipment before escaping.
In one year, Houston's drive-ins were the locale for a murder, a gang fight that sent eleven persons to the hospital, and no less than thirty-five assaults.
Drinking teen-agers have become a headache to police and parents. Now, with the advent of vast parking lots and drive-in movies, they have a relatively easy time of finding a place to hold a bash. They have little problem obtaining liquor through unscrupulous adults. One California theater manager was instrumental in trapping a gang of ten men who loaded their cars with liquor, visited the drive-in, and peddled the stuff to kids inside, sometimes at $10 a pint!
Each year, 3,000,000 teen-agers reach driving age, and they are turned loose on the drive-ins, restaurants, beaches and parks, where they can drink, have sex and engage in acts of violence.
CHAPTER TEN It Ends like This
Sociologists and psychiatrists lead us to believe that many persons who might otherwise not develop a taste for plural sex, are led into it while they are incarcerated, or are restrained in other situations which isolate them from the normal sex outlets. Many of our juvenile detention units, according to penologists and sociologists, are far from being rehabilitation facilities, but are training grounds for plural sex perversions.
Jenny K. has spent seven of her twenty-three years in various detention homes and prisons. She is a narcotics addict and, as such, faces a very questionable future. She became addicted to narcotics when she was fifteen, and in between stretches in detention homes or jails, has spent many months in clinics and in two nationally recognized hospitals for addicts.
Hers is a sordid story, yet one that is repeated all too often in today's thrill-minded world. Jenny began her sex life with plural sex for kicks. Since then, she has come full circle, back to a life of perverted multiple sex practices, merely to support the "monkey on her back"-a $50-dollar-a-day heroin habit.
She has tried for several years to kick the habit, but all her efforts have been unsuccessful. When a woman is a narcotic addict, it is almost automatic for her to turn to prostitution in order to support her habit. Jenny begins her account by telling of how she became hooked.
"I was popular in high school; a good dancer, a 'good joe' with the right guy as far as going to bed went, and I also happened to be a good student. But, I was also the daughter of a no-good drunk, who later turned to narcotics peddling in order to keep himself in booze. I'm not blaming my father. He was a real zero-a lame-brain. I mean he was a low-grade moron. Who else would hook his own daughter on narcotics, so he could force her to peddle it-and to high school students, yet?
"My mother died when I was thirteen, and my father didn't make enough to keep himself in booze, let alone feed and clothe me, so I took a job nights in a drive-in restaurant as a car-hop. I still kept on with school, but I began to fall behind, keeping those hours. And, I used to go out on a date two or three times a week after I finished at eleven. Anyhow, I got sick-the flu-and my father gave me a shot for my flu. The crummy bastard shot me full of 'Horse,'-that's heroin. I was high as a kite on the junk for almost a week. It's a wonder that I lived, and I wish to Christ I hadn't. But I did, and I was really hooked. I didn't know what this craving was, but I told him that I needed another shot before I went back to work.
"He gave it to me, all right. He had been digging around, and had come up with some twenty names of kids at school who were on the stuff. Then he dug up other names of users, and used to send them to me at the drive-in. He had a good thing going for a time. He had me hooked and I had to peddle for him. Then, when I needed more and more, he would send his bookie friends and force me to lay them-sometimes four or five at a crack, in order to get the dough to give him for junk.
"So, at the ripe old age of fifteen, I'm not only a junkie but a joy-girl for a bunch of crooks, and a gang banger of the first rank. And, to top it off, the old man jumps me every time he can, which is usually after I've had a pop and just don't care who gets in.
"In a way, it was a soft touch for the narcotics dicks. All they did was plant a guy in a car at the drive-in. He told me that Pop sent him; I sold it (covering it with a napkin when I brought his hamburger) and that was that. They not only cooled me, but the old man also. He got a two-to-five and I got sent to a reform school where I was supposed to be cured of my habit. Cured? Hah! The second day I'm there, I'm climbing the walls. Guess who's got the action? Sure, a guard. She's a female-at least, she has tits and a snatch, and wears her hair long. I never went for the lesbian bit, but when you're carrying that monkey like I was, you don't act choosy if somebody has a pop in his hand. I wouldn't have cared if she was white, black or polka-dotted-I'd have done anything to get that pop.
"But there were a lot of others in the vicious circle at that joint. I had to go down on that babe-and while I'm at it, and almost gagging from the smell of her dirty pussy-this big moron of a cleaning man gets his cock in me from the back. Not up the ass, but in the snatch. Meantime, I'm sweating blood, trying to make this queer dame get her rocks off while I'm tonguing her. I don't know a damned thing about lesbian sex. All I know is that she's got her legs wrapped around my face and I'm smothering. The only air I can manage smells like it's coming from a coffin that has been opened after eight days, and this big ape is breathing his booze breath down my neck while he's jazzing me from the back and digging his fingers into my breasts until I'm almost bleeding.
"But, I made it. From there on, I had at least a couple of pops a day. I even did better than most, because I got a deal going with a couple of the top brass men where a visitor or two could have me on Wednesday or Sunday, if they laid the money in the right palm-and if they gave me an extra pop of 'H.'
"After awhile, I got so I even buddied up to a couple of the others that were on the stuff and, when things got tight and it was a long time until the next fix, we had some wild sex balls. Not because we were real, honest-to-God lesbians, nor because we hard up for sex, but actually just for something to kill the time and keep us from going off our rockers, for want of a 'high flyer.'
"They turned me loose when I was twenty-one. Cured! Rehabilitated! A twenty-one-year-old queer, sexpot, dope addict! You tell me where you think I could go from there. I was a parolee with a heavy habit and I wanted a man inside me to wash out the feel of all those women's tongues. I had no education, no recommendations, and looked like I was forty years old! Big chance, huh?
"So I headed back for my home grounds. At least, I knew some connections there, although the old man had disappeared or died or something. I wasn't loose three days before I was contacted to peddle. I'd taken a good week's supply of 'H' with me when I left the pokey. They saw to it that I had that much, just so I wouldn't fink on them and blow their racket sky-high. But I was already panicky about what would happen when I ran dry.
"I peddled my ass a little, and picked up some money, but I knew it would go fast. Besides, I didn't have a connection yet, and all the dough in the world doesn't mean a thing if you haven't got the guy that can deliver the goods. Then I meet this Toni. She's a gal, not a guy, and she's a weirdo. She runs around with a guy who has good connections, and she runs one of these sex palaces that specialize in the rough stuff. The word had gotten around that I was looking for a connection, and that I was willing to do most anything to make a good one and keep it. So this Toni sends for me and I go to her joint.
"It's a pretty classy place, with a great big living room and den combined, and she's got all the equipment you could imagine to accommodate these weirdoes that she caters to. She's got handcuffs set in blocks of cement, a crazy bed with shackles at the top and bottom to hold both hands and feet while you get the business-the whole schmear. She's got special-made shit-pots, located so a person is seated right over the face of a character that is tied down and has a head brace so he can't turn his head-things I never dreamed of or heard about. Even the weirdoes I'd been in jail with wouldn't know about these things.
"She told me that if I went to work for her, I would get two pops a day, plus a hundred a week in cash. I found out later, the bastard was getting a hundred a crack for me, and I was on tap five or six nights a week. Then I found myself in a real trap. I had to get high-really floating out of this world, in order to stand some of the stuff that I had to take. The more I popped the junk, the more I needed, and the worse it got for me in the 'sex-pit.' That's what I call the joint.
"I began to lose a lot of weight. I always had a pretty nice shape, but I was so much on the stuff that I didn't eat at all. I lived on coffee and cigarettes and dope, and it began to show. It got so that most of the good-paying customers didn't want me in the act anymore-especially the guys that wanted their straight fucking or sucking.'
"I guess I hit the bottom of the barrel when Toni rented me out to this burner. I didn't even guess that there were such beasts, but I found out the hard way. I was hard-up for a fix that night. I was almost out of my head with the sweats and the twinges and the ache in my gut. I hadn't had a fix for two days. I guess Toni had set me up for this guy, because I was never so happy in my life as when she told me I had a customer. I was crying with happiness, knowing that it would only be an hour or so more before I'd take that trip to paradise.
"Toni got me in the room with these two guys. I think there was three or four watching, but I'm not quite sure. Anyway, she put the shackles on me after I'd laid down on that special bed. That was the first time I'd ever been the one who was bound, but I didn't even guess what was ahead. I'd had lots of guys dig their fingernails into my tits while they were screwing me, and some that used to bite my neck and shoulders, even my lips, until I bled, but this pair were something else.
"One guy had a cucumber-I didn't see it at first, but it was big-at least three inches around, and long. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but the other guy was smoking a big cigar. There was another girl there too, but she just laid on the couch, stark naked, her legs spread wide, showing a lot of the inside of her over-sized snatch. She was just a plain barroom whore, as far as I knew-too old and baggy to make the grade anymore on her own fucking or sucking, so she'd joined Toni's little sex circus.
"I guess I knew that the guy was going to shove that cucumber in my cunt, but it didn't worry me. I'd gotten pretty stretched out by then, and I knew it wouldn't hurt much. But he had no intention of doing that! I put my knees up, like the told me to, and the other guy went over to the couch and made this crummy whore get up on her hands and knees; then took out his prick and began to wiggle it around her ass-hole while looking over at this other guy and me all the time.
"Then this bastard grabbed the cucumber and, without any warning, jabbed it into my ass-hole a good two inches! I screamed with the hurt of it, but he just laughed and jabbed it in and out, while this other guy kept time by shoving his cock in the ass of this other pitiful bitch.
"I saw that he hadn't got a good hard on, and he tried to ram it in her ass with his fingers, fumbling around like a schoolboy on his first screw. But I was in too much pain to care about his problem. You just try to imagine what it's like having pain all over you, inside and out. My whole body was crawling with the need for a soothing pop, and from the belly button down, I was on fire with the pain inflicted by this weird bastard and his cucumber.
"Finally, this other guy gave up in disgust. He got off this whore and walked over to where I was, all the time playing with his flabby prick and staring at my ass and cunt. I had shaved all the hair off my snatch a long time ago. Toni told me that most guys liked to see a shaved cunt so they could see all the folds and the valleys of it when you spread your legs for them.
"He grabbed the cigar out of this other guy's hand and, while the one was still jamming that cucumber up my ass, this guy put the lit end of the stogey on my nipple! I half passed out, and he began to slap my face. I came out of it long enough to see-I don't know if there was enough feeling left in me to feel-this guy shove the lit end of that cigar into my wide-open cunt! I passed out then.
"I guess Toni was pretty scared because she gave me a pop while I was out. When I woke up, I was in a hospital. I had flipped completely, and for the next several weeks, they had to give me all kinds of treatments: the wet blanket, electric shock, the whole works. Maybe it turned out for the best, though, because they also weaned me off the stuff. I still get a shot every couple of days, but they tell me I'll be ready for the 'acid test,' the total withdrawal try-in a couple more weeks.
"What does a woman like me want from life? Sounds crazy, but I want the same things any woman wants: a home and a guy to take care of me. Most of all, I want to go one solid year without any drugs. I know that I can lick the rest of it, if I get the monkey off my back."
This unfortunate girl is typical of the dope addict, in that, in order to support the habit which was forced upon her by her unscrupulous father, she turned to ordinary prostitution.
As her need for narcotics rapidly increased, she was forced to expand her sex activities in direct proportion. Police are unanimous in stating that this is one of the added evils of addiction for females-the sordid sex life they lead merely to exist.
When a prostitute hits the skids, when her body is no longer attractive to normally lustful males, she often winds up as the butt of the sadist. Jenny probably will never realize her dream of a home and a man to care for her. Her looks are gone. Her body is a shell-wracked by malnutrition, disease and the ravages of drugs and lustful, perverted males and females.
In the words of Dr. Jordan:
"It is a strange world we live in, simply because the mind of each of us is unknown. Surely, if we were to compare Jenny or others as unfortunate with the average male and female who today indulges in sexual freedom to the point of license, would we not prefer the latter? This is not to condone, but rather, to choose the lesser of two evils. It behooves all of us, when we encounter such cases, to stop for a moment and, if we enjoy healthy sexual lives, to bow our heads and say fervently: "There, but for the grace of God, go I.' "
CONCLUSION
In the preceding chapters, we have been allowed to venture into the strange, and sometimes unfamiliar world of gang sex. And if we were to draw any preliminary conclusion from the variety of cases reported upon, it would be this: that although it may indeed be an unfamiliar world, it is not, like "the dark side of the moon," a barren and uninhabited world. Instead, it is inhabited by a population that is increasing daily. It is a world that is being ventured into enthusiastically by peoples of all types, and from the entire socio-economic spectrum.
As a matter-of-fact, the term "gang sex" is no longer accurate because that term falsely implies multiple sex activity limited to youthful street gangs. And, while we have seen that the deprivations of the underprivileged often serve as a triggering mechanism for release sought in sex with the gang, it has also been made more than clear in some of the foregoing case histories that the same activity-call it group sex, plural sex, multiple sex, or what you will-is now occurring in places where a gang as such would never before have been tolerated.
Must we coin a more refined phrase for gang bang because the banging has moved out of the dark streets and alleys that were the gang's domain? Does the gang bang become group sex when it moves into respectable suburbs, into elegant, high-priced apartment buildings catering entirely to swinging singles who desire sex with several partners simultaneously? Has the gang bang achieved a respectability of its own, sufficient for us to call it plural sex?
In any case, multiple-choice sex is so much a part of today's sexual scene that sociologists, marriage counselors, religious leaders and psychiatrists offer opinions-either constructive or critical-on this growing phenomenon. Many of the reasons for this proliferation of "Let's-all-get-in-the-act" sex have been reflected in the case histories we have examined. Boredom in an age of affluence; close contact among those of the same ethnic background, especially the underprivileged; an escape valve opened after several generations of Victorian sex taboos; providing the teen-ager with an automobile for mobility and privacy, and money in his pocket for liquor and drugs; and, finally, the rejection of the "establishment" by the hippies in favor of communal living and loving; all of these have contributed to the overall condition.
There are also some who use plural sex as a means to an end; such as the bullfighter and the young actor whose sexual activities were recounted in the book. Similarly, the drug addict who participated in plural sex as a means to finance her habit.
Then, of course, there are those who desire plural sex merely as an end in itself. In such cases, it provides an escalation of pleasure to those husband and wives who, having tired of each other, turn to another person, and to several persons, in order to be sexually satisfied. The indications are that more and more of these friendly-couples-next-door are indulging in collective sex as a welcome change from a mate who may be an ideal husband or wife in every area except sex.
In the opinion of some sexologists, plural sex is-directly or indirectly-related to many recognized perversions. The satyr and the nymphomaniac, both of whom are examples of an extreme sexual drive which can never be completely satisfied, may become convinced that by multiplying their sources of stimulation they may eventually achieve sexual gratification. The sadists and mas-ochists also have intricate and complex means of stimulation which may frequently require several participants.
The connection between plural sex and perversion is, by those standards, so closely drawn that one begins to wonder whether multiple sex activity is, in itself, a perversion. Perhaps Dr. Benjamin Morse's definition of perversion indicates the answer. "The most adequate definition is," he states, "that a perversion is a preferred form of sexual activity in which sexual tensions are resolved in a manner other than heterosexual coitus."
This, then, raises an interesting question. If we have concluded that an increasingly large segment of our population is engaging in plural sex activities out of preference; and if we accept Dr. Morse's definition of perversion, then does this mean that a growing portion of our so-called normal society is, indeed, perverted?
Perversion must be looked upon as a degree of sexuality rather than as a kind of sexuality. The line which separates the normal from the abnormal is very finely drawn. And while there has never been a really adequate definition of "normal," it must be presumed that any activity engaged in by the majority eventually becomes a part of the "norm." And today, millions of people prefer the increased stimulation of group sex. Those who are not already engaging in this activity, are at the very least, mindful and curious about it. And the next step beyond curiosity, often is involvement.
