"I know a lot of people would consider me crazy. You latch onto a sexy little number like Bertie-and then tell her to go out and fuck with anybody she feels like. To many people this wouldn't make sense. But, in my opinion, each couple has to make its own rules when it comes to marriage and sex and constancy, and all that. We usually see marriage as being a point where two people who have been playing the field suddenly have to give it all up and settle down to a dull, routine life. Well, if that's what you want, fine. I don't knock it. But different rules for different people. Sometime, maybe not right away, but sometime, Bertie would begin to feel the need for some excitement, for something different. I was just trying to let her know that I understood this, and that I was not going to get all upset and jealous and try to tie her down all the tighter because she strayed a little here and there.
"The important thing was that I loved her and that she loved me. And I didn't really see anything she did would change that. It didn't mean that she loved me any the less just because she felt like having a strange prick in her cunt once in a while....
"...I managed to get it across to her that she was free to play around if she wanted to.
"She protested violently, and she swore that she hadn't the slightest inclination. 'Okay,' I said, 'I understand. But I'm just saying that if you do feel any inclination, play it by ear. Don't feel that getting ahold of a young, strange guy and doing what you want with each other is going to make any difference in our relationship. You know what I mean?'
"She insisted that that was the farthest thing from her mind, but I could tell that the thought had crossed her mind before, and now she was beginning to think about it. Anyway, it was only a couple of weeks later that she told me she was going out for a night with her girl friend. She and Carol went out together every so often, or just stayed home and yakked about things. There was something about her tone of voice-a little too intense or something-that kind of clued me in that this wasn't at all what she was going to do. And, after all my talk, I found that I was just a little bit jealous. But I quickly talked myself out of that. It meant no more, actually, than if she had been going out with Carol, except that it would probably be a lot more exciting and more fun.
"She came home around eleven and kissed me. I was sitting watching TV, and I was careful not to ask any leading questions. I appeared to be unconcerned. But, if I think I can read Bertie like a book, it works the other way around, too. Maybe there was a little edge to my voice or something. But she caught it right away.
" 'Is anything the matter?' she asked.
" 'Oh, no. Nothing at all.'
" 'You sure?' she insisted.
"Then we started talking, and she broke down and started crying and confessed that she had been out with the guy she had mentioned. Names don't matter. I held her in my arms, and I kissed her and told her how much I loved her, and she sobbed out how much she loved me, and that it didn't mean a thing, and so on. I knew that, of course, and I reassured her and told her that she shouldn't cry. Was it fun ? She then began to tell me the whole story.
"She had met him at a place they'd agreed
on, and he took her to his apartment. Soft lights, soft music, cocktails. All the right touches. He had sat next to her, and his hand had brushed her skirt. In a little while, he kissed her, and they began to get more passionate. He was fairly young, but he was an accomplished lover. He took it fairly slow and easy, working his hand slowly up her thigh. He worked his finger in under her panties and finger-fucked her for a while, and then he suddenly unzipped his pants and thrust his prick into her hand. It wasn't as big as mine-and I couldn't help but get a secret charge from that. But it was nice and hard, and she got turned on playing with it while he finger-fucked her. Then, they undressed quickly. He didn't help her, and she didn't help him. They just got out of their own clothes as quickly as possible.
" I'll bet he came as soon as he saw your naked body,' I threw in.
" 'How did you know?' She smiled. 'Yes, that's exactly what he did. He shot all over my thighs. He couldn't help himself.'
"We both laughed, and then we both relaxed as if she were telling me some story about an exciting episode of the day-just something that happened that was kind of interesting. He was awfully embarrassed when he came all over her, but she told him it was all right. And in only a few minutes, he was raring to go again. He didn't go for sucking cunt, and Bertie seemed disappointed. She also wanted to suck his prick, but since he hadn't done it to her, she was a little embarrassed and thought he might think she was terrible or something. But he did suck her nipples and squeeze her breasts, and then he put his prick in her cunt and started fucking almost right away. She managed to come just as he did, but he seemed unable to hold himself back long enough to let her get in a good orgasm.
"All of this, of course, made me feel superior. It's not that she didn't enjoy it. She certainly did; she loved every minute of it. And the idea that she was doing something 'forbidden' added a tang to it. And he did have a way of moving his prick which is hard to describe; he would sort of rock back and forth from side to side while he was plunging in and out. She found that very stimulating, so I insisted that next time we got in bed, she'd have to teach me how to do it.
" 'Oh, it's nothing special,' she insisted.
"But I insisted more strongly that anything we could do together that would enhance our pleasure was worth a try. Anyway, she went on describing her affair, and by this time we
were both relaxed and unembarrassed and having a drink and thoroughly enjoying the whole thing. After he came the second time, he pulled out almost right away and got a towel and they wiped themselves off. Then they started again. He would let her play with his prick, but she had the feeling he would have been horrified if she'd tried to kiss it.-She fondled his balls, too. He had huge balls, she said. She doubted that she could have gotten them in her mouth-but it would have been fun trying. And when they kissed some more, he put his prick in again and fucked like crazy. They both came again, and the wiping-off procedure was repeated, followed by another and another session. Altogether, he fucked her six times, which is pretty good, I'd say. That's besides his first climax before he got in her.
" 'It was fun,' she admitted, 'but I'm glad to be home.'
"She snuggled in my arms, and added, 'And I'll never do anything like that again.'
" 'Why not?'
" 'Oh, Frank. You're awful,' she said, not really meaning it. 'You'd make a good pimp. I'll bet you'd send me out to pick up guys on the street.'
" 'Well,' I said, pretending to be serious, 'I'll bet we could make a lot of money that
way.' You certainly have the talent for it."
"She slapped my face lightly, and I buried my mouth on hers. I didn't want to get too passionate, because I was sure she was in no mood for lovemaking that night. She had had more than enough. But I was wrong. That little episode had only served to turn her on, and after she showered, we jumped into bed and had one of the greatest sessions we'd had in a long time. I spent a lot of time sucking her cunt, since that was what she had missed earlier; and she lavished her full attention on sucking and licking my prick and my balls. And finally, after her fourth orgasm-good, full, wild climaxes-and my second, I turned around and worked my prick into that sweet crevice of hers, and she reluctantly taught me the little rocking trick that had turned her on. I turned her on again, and she had three orgasms before I finally couldn't hold' back any longer. Then we fell asleep in each other's arms. I doubt that any two people could have felt closer to each other than we two did that night...."
* * *
Marriages between older men and younger girls or between older women and younger men
are not uncommon in our generation. People are beginning openly to accept the fact that there is no immunity to love, there is no vaccination against sexual attraction between men and women-regardless of their ages. This, of course, does not mean that all age-mismatched marriages are pure affairs of the heart, or even of the gonads, as the case might be. Every now and then ulterior motives naturally play a part in the matrimonial coupling of a man in his sixties and a girl in her late teens or early twenties, or of a middle-aged woman and a young man; but then, ulterior motives are sometimes behind some of the "conventional" marriages, in which there is no appreciable age difference between man and wife.
The narratives included in this work are limited to the area where there is no known extra-psychological ulterior motive. Extra psychological? To give a concrete example of what is meant by extra-psychological, in the narrative from which the preceding segment was extracted, the narrator-Franklin-at the age of fifty-eight fell in love with Bertie, who was at the time eighteen years old. He found reciprocation for his love in the love of the young woman. Pure and simple. Bertie did not marry Franklin for his money (financial ulterior motive) ; she did not marry him because of his status (he had none to speak of, being a school counselor); she did not marry him because she was in love with one of Franklin's sons-he had three but they do not at any time enter into the picture Franklin narrates. Bertie married Franklin because she liked him, because he loved her, and because she loved him.
And it is on that level of love, sexual attraction, lust-call it what you will-that "psychological ulterior motives" enter the picture. And they do in each of the five cases presented within the pages of this book. These P.U.M.s are in most instances sublimated, and are commonly called drives, fears, anxieties. They are not consciously recognized by either partner, though they are manifested in any number of ways: thought patterns, forms of speech, personality traits, and are of course all based on the individuals' earlier life experiences.
The basic P.U.M. in Franklin's case, for example, is unquestionably fear or anxiety of being alone, and, by extension, of losing Bertie. His marriage to Bertie is his third marriage. His first two were terminated, as far as can be gathered from his narrative, through no fault of his own: the first ending in a divorce, the second leaving him a widower after twenty years of marriage. His attraction to Bertie under the circumstances is not in the least unnatural; his work required him to be in constant touch with people considerably younger than he was, his work was his life, young people were his interest.
It is difficult to establish Bertie's P.U.M. in her ready response to Franklin's manifestations of love sin-the narrative is not presented from her point of view. It would not be unreasonable to assume, however, that part of her ready response was due to her recognition of Franklin's maturity and stability and her attraction toward the same.
The meeting, the attraction, and the marriage, then, of Franklin and Bertie appear to present nothing out of the extraordinary. It is only their subsequent "arrangement"-in which Bertie is almost coaxed by Franklin to engage in extramarital affairs at first-that brings shadows (or light?) into the conventionality of their love life. It is, indeed, a strange pattern that their married life begins to follow after Bertie's first affair with a younger man. After a brief flash of jealousy, Franklin becomes aroused by Bertie's descriptions of her sexual encounters. These sensuousness-filled t�te-...-t�tes affect young Bertie in exactly the same manner, for afterwards they engage in lovemaking that carries in it an intensity that is absent, or at least gradually decreases, in their subsequent sessions of intercourse and variations thereupon, until Bertie has another tale to tell.
Have Franklin and Bertie developed a calculated counter-measure to the discrepancy in their ages? Is Franklin's almost blas' attitude toward his young wife's technical "infidelities" the saving feature of their marriage? Is their final involvement in group sex with the couple Bertie brings home a progressive step into what might be termed "hedonistic life-style" or is it, indeed, a move on Bertie's part to show Franklin that he, too, can be free and still have her whenever he wants her? Finally, would such an "arrangement" work for a couple whose ages did not show the difference Franklin's and Bertie's ages show? And ultimately, is their marriage heading for the inevitable situation in which Bertie becomes emotionally involved with a man her own age and decides to leave Franklin?
However the above questions are answered, one point cannot be ignored: An age difference, such as exists between Franklin and Bertie as well as the other subject couples of narratives included in this study, is an obstacle that only selfless love can overcome. And love, more often than not in such situations is a function of psychological ulterior motives-some of which, as the following cases will show, cross the boundary between love and psychotic dysfunction.
CHAPTER ONE
The Gilded Cage
"A couple of years before I was married, when I was thirteen, fourteen, around there, I used to have daydreams about the kind of guy I would someday marry. I even had an image in my head of exactly what he would look like. Boy, was I ever wrong! When my wedding night came and I was in bed with my husband kissing him, having him feel me up, sucking his cock and all those things, it was totally different from what I'd ever imagined.
"For one thing, I was a lot younger than I thought I'd be-only sixteen. And he was one hell of a lot older than I'd ever dreamed he would be. He was sixty, and gray-haired! And our wedding night, in fact our whole marriage,
didn't turn out at all like young girls think they should be. I thought marriage-even to an old, rich man like Bernard Cameronwould be sort of ... well, you know ... normal. But my marriage was anything but normal. Maybe I better tell you first how the whole thing started.
"One day-it was just a few days before my sixteenth birthday-I was hitchhiking down Laurel Canyon Boulevard here in Los Angeles, as I often do. It was summer, and I had been visiting my girl friend Susie, who lives with a long-haired musician up in the canyon. I live in a house in Hollywood with my mother, who's a waitress, and since I couldn't drive yet and probably couldn't afford a. car anyway, I hitched around wherever I wanted to go.
"The first glimpse I had of Bernard was the sight of him behind the wheel of his gray and black Rolls Royce as he pulled up to the curb to pick me up. I was really thrilled. Usually I just got picked up by cheap creeps in old Chevies.
"Once I climbed into the front seat of that car I knew the driver was really class. The car was cool, air-conditioned, beautifully upholstered, and through it was flowing the greatest music I'd ever heard in a car. As we started to move down the boulevard, I turned to him and asked him about the music. like, how?
" 'That's a privately made tape, played on special equipment. It's not the usual car stereo your boyfriends have in their cars. like it?' he asked.
" 'Sure!" I answered. While he talked I got a chance to look at him. I guess the best way to sum him up is to say that he looked very ... distinguished, you know? He had beautiful gray hair-mostly white, actually-and he had a very expensive-looking suit on, and though I could tell he was a pretty old guy, he was actually really handsome-distinguished, like I said.
"Well, we talked a lot on the way toward my house. Then he flabbergasted me by saying that not only did he want to take me straight to my house, but he wanted to come in to meet my mother! My mom's pretty liberal-she knew I hitchhiked and all-so I said okay, but added that I couldn't figure out why he'd want to. Then he told me. He said he was a movie director and he wanted me for a small part in his current picture. He said I was just right for it. Did I want to do it? Well, you know the answer to that one. Did I ever!
"He wanted to get my mother's permission, so he came in and introduced himself and talked to her awhile. He had this way of being charming, and acting like a British gentleman or something, that got to her the way it got to me. Before I knew it he had her agreeing to come up to his office the next day with me.
"The next day Mom signed a contract, and before I knew it I was in the movies. I did a small part in the picture he was making, then another small part in a movie being made by a friend of his. Meanwhile I was seeing Mr. Cameron-he insisted I call him Bernard-for dinner and shows and things like that. A couple of times he invited me up to his mansion in the hills, and I really expected to be seduced up there (I wouldn't have cared), but he always behaved like the perfect gentleman. Yet I could see by the way he looked at me that he was crazy about me. One day he asked me to marry him.
" 'You want to marry me?' I asked. 'But I'm only sixteen, and you're.... '
" 'Sixty,' he said. 'But that doesn't matter if we love each other.'
"Well, I don't think I loved him, but the thought of being married to one of the biggest directors in the world, and such a nice man, too ... well, I almost immediately said yes. He was overjoyed, and even kissed me on the lips-the first time he had ever done that-but he said that the marriage wasn't possible without my mother's consent. That was the law in California-if a girl marries before she's eighteen, she has to have her mother's consent.
"Mother consented. She was very agreeable to the marriage, especially after Bernard mentioned a new home for her in Bel Air. Bernard and I were married soon after, on the first of August. That night, I began to find out how strange my marriage was going to be.
"Awaiting Bernard in our luxurious bedroom that night, I looked at myself in the head-to-toe mirror. I knew that-most of all-it was my body that attracted Bernard. I have a nice face, pretty and clear. My hair is long and naturally blonde. My mouth is small, with thin lips, and has a sort of teasing quality to it, I know. But it was my body that turned him on the most-no doubt about it.
"It is a very unusual body. Very, very slim-even skinny. Except for one area. My breasts. On my skinny body, they jut out for what appears to be a full foot. Straight out-no sag. And I never wear a bra. I guess you'd have to call them kinda freaky. They shouldn't really stick out like that-but they do. If you took the perky little breasts you see on many fourteen, fifteen, and sixteen year olds, with their firmness and whiteness and puffy pink
nipple-cones, then increased their size about three times, you'd have my boobs. My boobs are so big and perky they're almost embarrassing. They get a lot of looks everywhere I go. And they always got a lot of glances from Bernard. Quick, sneaky, but unmistakable glances. I think what he really wanted to marry was my boobs.
"But that's not the only thing that attracted him to me, I'd have to say if I were to be completely honest. Mr. Cameron, at sixty, was fascinated with the idea of youth. To put it simply, he liked young girls-very young girls, for him. He wanted to fuck a sixteen-year-old girl. But he wanted to do it in the legal, traditional manner-by marrying her.
"At the time, that was okay with me. He was a nice man. As far as I could tell, he had a good body. Of course, I was a little naive. Quite a bit, as a matter-of-fact. All the while I was trying to imagine how big his erect prick would be, I never figured that he might not be able to get it up on our wedding night.
"He couldn't.
"He came into the bedroom, saw me admiring my own breasts in the mirror, and smiled. We crawled into bed together. He began by kissing me on the lips very gently. He was wearing some old-fashioned pajamas and I started to rub my body against his, particularly my breasts against his broad chest. I could feel my nipples stiffening almost instantly. We put our arms around each other and our kisses became more intimate, deeper. I thrust my hips forward and tried to get some kind of indication what his prick felt like, but I couldn't tell anything right away.
"He unbuttoned my frilly top and then pulled it off. His eyes were wide, as if in shock, at the sight of my watermelon-size boobs. 'My God,' was all he said, then his mouth dove down on top of one of them. His mouth felt delicious! He knew just what to do. The nipple stiffened to its limit under the pulling of his lips and the sliding, wet feeling of his expert tongue.
"As he traded tits and began to mouth the other expectant nipple, I ran my hands all around his head and back and chest. I thought that if it was going to feel this good I might really come to love my movie director husband. There was a little fear in me-I was still a virgin. A rare specimen in these days and times, I know, but those had been the circumstances. I had done a lot of things with boys-had them go down on me and had gone down on them-but I'd never let one ball me.
"But now I was ready, and really not very scared. If Bernard was as gentle through everything as he was right now with my breasts, then the whole thing would be just fine. I could take his big, old man's prick if he were this gentle. His big prick. The thought of his prick filled my mind now, as my nipples hardened even more at his loving treatment. How big would his prick be? Probably bigger than Fred's or Tom's-they had only been fourteen and fifteen, mere boys. I was looking forward to cramming a truly large man's rod into my mouth. I loved to suck.
"Apparently Bernard loved to suck, too, for he moved down to my stomach with his wet mouth as I thought these thoughts, and after dallying there for but a moment, he descended to the band of my panties and moved them down, down, off my hips and thighs and feet. I was totally naked before his intent eyes.
" 'Lovely, lovely,' I heard his voice say down below, as he stared into my pussy. But his voice seemed to have a tinge of sadness or uncertainty in it. I couldn't imagine why. Perhaps it was the sparseness of blonde hairs about my pussy slit. But no, that would just be another sign of my youth, and he should have been made happy by the sight.
"Suddenly, his tongue darted out and hit me precisely where my clitoris was slightly buried.
The tongue was stiff and dug in a bit, so with that one motion, sensations of sensuality shot through my whole body. In the next instant, the tongue had loosened up and spread, and was lapping lower, at the slit about halfway down, then trailing up to the clitoris. It was such a scrumptious feeling. My hands instinctively fell upon his white head.
"His mouth went to work then in earnest on my happy pussy. It was still gentle, but growing in boldness and force. The tongue dipped into the recesses of my wet canal and poked in as far as it could go. It went pretty far. Probably by masturbating myself so much, I thought, there was hardly any hymen in the way. He might not even draw any blood when he fucked me.
"His tongue went even lower after exploring my hole for a while, and ran over the bony ridge of flesh that separates my vagina from my ass-hole. The tongue-tip even touched briefly against the rim of my ass-hole, and I just about went crazy; I'm extremely sensitive there.
"His mouth then went back to my pussy lips and sucked on them. The lips sucked, his teeth lightly nibbled, and the tongue dipped here and there. I was spilling my juices all over his face and doing a crazy horizontal dance on the bed. The silk sheets were getting messed up fast.
"I wanted to do for him what he was doing for me, though. I wanted to see his prick, put it into my hot mouth. I licked my lips like some kind of witch at the thought of it. Keeping my pussy to his hungry lips, I began to move my body about so that I eventually wound up in a sixty-nine position.
"Bernard was lying sort of on his front, so that his crotch was hidden from me, and I playfully pushed at his hips to move them around so I could get a peek at his pecker. At first, he didn't help me at all-he just lay there like a log and kept burrowing into my cunt, but finally he gave up and rolled back.
"His penis was limp!
"Penis is the word for it. 'Prick' to me means a hard, upraised rod, and this sure wasn't that. His little peter was small, shriveled up, pathetic looking. While I stared at it in disbelief and disappointment, I realized that he had removed his mouth from my pussy. I looked up to where his head was and saw him glaring at me angrily.
'"So you're disappointed, aren't you?' he asked.
" 'N-no, I.... '
" 'Don't lie, I can see it on your face!' he shouted, and suddenly raised himself off the bed. 'Don't worry, I'll see that you get what you want.'
"I didn't understand. I pleaded with him to come back to the bed. But he disregarded my begging and went to the door. Unlatching it, he opened the door and shouted out into the hall.
'"John! Patricia! Henry!'
"Within seconds there were three of Bernard's servants in the bedroom. I quickly pulled the sheets over my nude body. The three servants, a maid, and two men whose duties weren't clear to me at the time, stood in a neat line awaiting Mr. Cameron's orders. And orders he had for them.
" 'Take off your clothes, all of them. Every one of you,' he demanded.
"All three immediately complied. The two men were both tall and muscular, one redheaded and the other dark-haired. Neither could have been older than thirty. The woman, like one of the men, was redheaded. In fact, she looked enough like the man to have been his sister. She was quite young for a maid. I don't think she was even twenty-one. Once she'd taken her clothes off it was evident that she was a little bit-well, actually a lot chubbier than I am. She did share one feature with me-she was gifted with some big knockers. Not as big as mine, though, and they were flabbier; they sagged down a little.
"Something interesting was revealed about the men once they had their clothes off, too. Both were well hung. One seemed to have half a hard on, the way it kind of pushed out, but the other didn't seem that excited, yet his dong must have been a good five inches long limp, and it was pretty thick, too. Nothing like Bernard's. Over where he stood-beside the redheaded maid now-his little peter hung its two or three inches very softly. He was still glaring at me, but was making some effort to regain his usual politeness, even though he was red in the face.
" 'I want you to be pleased, to be satisfied, on your first night of marriage,' he said to me in a calm voice. 'I ... I don't feel quite up to giving you what you need, what you want for satisfaction. I have this trouble ... quite often!'
"I was embarrassed to speak in front of the servants, but I had to object.
" 'Bernard, you don't have to ... to fuck me on our first night. I understand. Your mouth.... '
" 'Enough, enough,' he said brusquely, before I could tell him that going down on me would be enough, at least for tonight. 'John. Henry.
Go to her,' he commanded the male servants. He gave no order to the girl.
"The men walked over and stood by the side of the bed, looking down at my body as it was outlined by the silk sheets. They didn't seem as confused as I was. One even seemed to have a sort of smirk on his face. I had the strange feeling that they had somehow gone through something like this before-but that seemed un---likely.
" 'Lower your covers, Laurie,' Bernard said. 'Henry and John will make love to you. Feel free to do what you wish once you become excited. Patricia and I shall ... watch.'
"One of the tall, strong male servants gently grabbed the top of the sheet and began to tug at it. I gave him no resistance. Down came the sheet, revealing my slim body with its mountainous boobs. Right away, the man who had pulled down the sheet fell on one breast and swooped as much of it as he could get into his mouth. My head fell back on the pillow at the sudden sensation. I felt hands passing all over my body-the hands of both men, I'm sure. They played with my free breast, smoothed the rising skin, tweaked the growing nipple, caressed the almost unnoticeable rise of my tummy, stroked my thighs and, finally, invaded the area of my little pussy.
"There one set of fingers, then another rubbed up and down and all around my pussy lips, my clitoris, my sparsely-haired mound, the crease between my legs and my mound, and occasionally they dipped down to lightly tease the rim of my ass-hole.
"Before I knew it, I had lost all thought of my new husband. I could hear myself moaning out loud. My nipples were as stiff and pointed as they had ever been, under what was now the mouths of both servants. Against my thighs I could feel long, hard pricks. More than anything, that made me hot. I was aching, itching, and wet between my thighs. The hands probing there now easily entered in and rummaged around the moist walls of my cavern. One of the guys placed a moistened finger on my clit and rolled it around and around. My hips started to buck up and down in response to that.
"Pretty soon they started to get pretty rough with my big old boobs, pushing them all around as if they were baker's dough or something, squeezing them with their big strong hands and biting them-not so gently-with their teeth. I yelled out for them to stop, but they could tell, and I could tell by the sound of my voice, that I didn't really mean it. I loved it. Suddenly, with their mouths and hands working roughly on my sensitive, huge breasts, and their hands going to town on my poor, hungry pussy, I burst into an overpowering orgasm-the strongest I'd ever had in my short life. Of course, this was the first time I'd ever had two men go over me, and I hadn't even been fucked yet.
"One of the guys-I still didn't know who was Henry and who was John-took care of that in just a minute.
"The two rolled me over on my stomach and then got me up on my knees. Then the redheaded one knelt behind me. Before I knew it, I was being fucked. There was only a very little pain, and almost immediately-wow! I was digging the feeling of a big male prong buried in my cunt. It really felt good. It sure was better than my finger had ever felt. I was just a little sad, though, that it wasn't Bernard.
"As I began to huff and puff and get excited again under the thrusts of the servant, I turned my head on the pillow and gazed over to where Bernard was. He was seated in a chair near the door now, and the girl servant knelt beside him. He was watching the action between me and the servant; meanwhile the hefty girl was pulling on his whang with her hand. She was pulling pretty hard, her big,
freckled jugs shaking with her effort.
"And she was getting somewhere! Bernard's prick was beginning to grow.
"For a moment my attention was taken away from my husband and the girl servant by the dark-haired male who had temporarily been left out. He suddenly blocked my vision by shoving his dong in front of my face. I was willing, getting pretty excited by the fuck I was receiving, and I opened my mouth and let that big red head of his cock pop in. I started sucking on it like I was a vampire or something. I was getting screwed for the first time in my life, and I had a big prick in my mouth at the same time!
"The cock in my mouth tasted delicious, and I ran my tongue around it time after time. There was something coming out of it-something oozing out of it-but I didn't care by now. I just licked it up. I didn't know how men dribble a little come before their orgasms or anything like that. All I knew was that this was fucking and sucking, and I loved it. I didn't care who was doing it to me.
"My mind boggled with the mixed sensations of one huge prick in my mouth and another in my cunt at the same time. I could only concentrate on one at a time. I kept lapping at the prick in my mouth without thinking about
it too much, and focused my thoughts on the wonderful rammer in my poor, ripped pussy. In and out it plunged, pushing seven or eight inches into my depths. It felt greater than anything I'd ever felt in my life. If this was sex, this was for me! I humped back on his prick with all my might.
"Suddenly I felt the cock in my mouth spewing. The servant I had been sucking off was coming. I didn't know what to do, so I just followed my reflexes and licked and swallowed. The sensuality of it all was too much for me, and I felt a glowing sensation pass through my whole body. I was coming! I groaned and heaved on the hard rod that plunged in again and again. I felt my pussy clench it, the little muscles working for the best climax they could get. Then the man who was fucking me yelled out and pumped harder than ever. I knew he, too, was coming.
"In the middle of our mutual come, the prick of the man I'd been sucking plopped out of my mouth and he rolled to the side. Right then, while my pussy was still grasping the stranger's cock in its orgasm, I could see my husband's own prick standing up in his lap. It was big, gigantic, monstrous. I would have never imagined that it could be so big when it had been so small while limp.
"It was a wonder that I could see it at all. Because it was being sucked off like mad by the redheaded girl servant, Patricia. Not thirty seconds after I first laid eyes on this scene, Bernard grabbed Patricia's head all of a sudden and held it tightly. He threw back his head and grunted. He was obviously coming in her mouth. She took it all, enthusiastically.
"Bernard left me with the two men for the rest of the night. No, he didn't have me on our wedding night. But later he did.
"As strange as that first night of my marriage to Bernard Cameron was, things got even stranger as the first weeks of our marriage passed. Bernard's mansion was no ordinary house, and Bernard Cameron was no ordinary man. And when he found out that he had an impotency problem with his young bride, he took extraordinary measures to correct it...."
"After our odd wedding night, four days and nights passed before I even saw my sixty-year-old husband again. The servants took care of all my needs. I asked one, a buxom, forty-ish woman named Janet, where Bernard was on the first day. She told me to wait in the bedroom until she came back. Then she left the room. It was all so mysterious. I waited for twenty minutes, trying to pass the time by reading some movie magazines before she came back.
"She had a note with her. It was from Bernard, and it read: 'Laurie dear, I am so ashamed about what happened the other night. Perhaps our marriage is a mistake. Perhaps I am too old for you. If you wish to call it off now, it's all right. Just write a note to that effect and give it to Janet, and she will deliver it to me. But if you will have patience with me, please wait a few days and I will come to you, trying to be a good husband. I will gently introduce you, then, to my unusual appetites and needs. Please understand. Bernard.'
"I told Janet, after reading the note, to come back in a few minutes. My head was swimming with confusion. I needed time to think things out. But when Janet returned ten minutes later, I told her there would be no message for my husband.
"For the four days that followed, I just walked around the house, went shopping, visited my girl friends, things like that. I saw my mother, too, of course. I pretended that everything was just hunky-dory and normal between Bernard and me, so she wouldn't be upset.
"As the days and nights went by, I started to get pretty worried. But I was pretty excited, too. I remembered what he'd said in his letter, about 'unusual appetites and needs.' He'd probably thought that I'd been turned off by having my cherry broken by his men-servants and by the sight of him coming in the mouth of his servant girl, but nothing could be further from the truth. There was no doubt that the old guy was a little cuckoo, but it seemed that he was crazy in some interesting ways, and I was determined to stick out this marriage thing as long as I could. Besides, I liked the money, for one thing-and I was looking forward to what strange turns my sex life was going to take in the hands of this nutty old movie director.
"When Bernard and I got together again, we went to see a show.
"But this wasn't your run-of-the-mill show, and we didn't have to go out of the house to see it. It was put on in the largest room of the Cameron mansion, the party room, and it was put on purely for our benefit. And the purpose of it was to give me pleasure, and to give my aging husband a hard on.
"So it was a sex show, as you might have guessed. And quite a show it was, too. I'd certainly never seen anything like it.
"It was entirely staged by Bernard. That's the way it should be-after all, he knew what turned him on best. The first act was live.
The party room was darkened. Bernard, who'd called me down to the party room just a few minutes earlier-the first time I'd seen him in four days-and greeted me with nothing more than a kiss on my cheek, directed me over to a large bed-like couch with a low back that sat at one end of the room. As we sat in the semi-darkness, music started playing in the room: slow, sensuous music.
"Then out of the shadows of one corner of the huge room came a belly dancer. I'm not kidding-a real belly dancer, all dressed up in that sort of Turkish dress you think of belly dancers being in. Her main feature, accented by what she wore and by every one of her movements, was her stomach. It was browned by the sun and all slicked up with some kind of oil. And she moved it like she was kind of snake. I thought it was kind of funny-there was a spotlight on her from somewhere, just as if we were in a nightclub or something. But when I looked at Bernard's face, I knew right away that he didn't think it was so funny.
"His eyes were set right on her. And as she danced around the room, her eyes always right on him as she went through her gyrations, she began to strip off what few clothes she had.
"When her clothes were completely off-and that didn't take long-I could see that she was darkly tanned and oiled all over her body. And she had some body. Very ... voluptuous, I guess you'd call it. Her breasts were big, brown bowls, with silver-dollar-size nipples. They shook like Jell-o as she danced naked.
"A couple of times she came very close to where Bernard and I sat on the couch, making teasing gestures at Bernard, but she always moved back to the center of the room. Then a man joined her. He was tall and muscular, and, like the belly dancer, he was tanned and oiled all over. He danced around her and she danced around him. Then they began to touch-just a brushing against each other here and there, then longer touches, until finally they were rubbing the fronts and backs of their torsos against each other.
"I have to admit it looked very sexy, the way they were all slick with that oil. The whole thing got a lot sexier when I noticed that the man's loincloth-the only thing he had been wearing-was bulging quite noticeably, and when I saw the woman grasp the bulge for a second. Then one time when the fronts of their bodies came into contact, the woman reached out, and with one strong pull she yanked the loincloth from his groin.
"Up sprang a hard, ready column of prick-flesh. Now, when the couples danced together, she would slide her hand up and down the stiff cock, and he would move his hands over her heavy globe and dip into the hairy crease between her thighs.
"After a while, the couple gave up all pretense of dancing. There was a mattress near the center of the room. Whether it had been there all along or had just been placed there, I don't know. In any case, the couple made good immediate use of it. Despite the fact that they'd been fondling each other's genitals just a minute before, I was a little startled when they fell upon the mattress head-to-feet and began sucking each other off sixty-nine style. When that happened, Bernard's hand came to my thigh and gently squeezed it. I think he was getting excited. One thing was for sure: I was!
"I'd never seen anything like it. I'd seen a boy and girl, make out pretty heavy in a park once, thinking they were pretty well hid by some bushes, with their clothes half off. But it wasn't quite like this.
"One quick look at my husband's eyes told me that he was as entranced by the lovemaking in front of us as I was, if not more. His old, bloodshot eyes were locked on the couple, and were glazed over.
"Suddenly he looked at me. 'Does that excite you, Laurie?' he asked. 'Or does it make you sick?'
"For an answer I put my hand on his crotch. For the first time, I touched my husband's cock-even if it was just through his pants. It seemed to be half-hard. But the way he smiled when I touched him, I guessed it was much better than it usually was at this point, and he was pretty proud of it. I prayed that his impotence wasn't as bad as it seemed to be. Why, every boy I'd ever even necked with got an instant hard on before we hardly ever started anything. The scene before me would make most of them hornier than a lamp post.
"But as I kept my hand on Bernard's crotch and slowly rubbed around it, his prick got no stiffer, as far as I could tell.
"'Just keep doing that, dear. It's wonderful,' he said, and dropped his hand from my thigh into my own crotch.
" 'OooouuummmmV
"The groan came from the center of the room. I looked up to see that the man and woman had maneuvered around into a new position. She was, in fact, in the position I had been put into on my wedding night by the male servant who fucked me. I figured that she was being fucked the same way I had been. But as it turned out, that wasn't exactly right.
"True, the tall, muscular, oiled male dancer was pumping his prick into her from behind, but unlike the screwing I'd received, she was getting hers in the bunghole!
"That's why she had moaned, and why she kept on moaning with almost every push into her entrails the man made. He was really digging it, going faster and faster, harder and harder all the time, reaching around to grab onto her breasts and maul them as he corn-holed her.
"Bernard and I were digging it too. Our hands rubbed with more speed and force against each other's crotch, and I thought I could make out a little bit of growth in my old husband's half-hard rod.
"The woman began to get into the spirit of the thing soon, too. For one thing, the tone of her moans changed. There was less pain in the sound of them, more pleasure and enjoyment. Soon they were more like squeals than moans. And her hips were driving back against the pumping male's. Suddenly the man was lunging at her with a flurry of blows, and his facial muscles tightened. He then pushed his prick in as far as he could get it, held it there, and bellowed out into the room, overwhelming the other sounds-the squeals of the woman, the music, and the quickening breaths coming from me and Bernard an arm's length away.
"The man may have stopped, but the woman didn't. She kept heaving her lower body against the stone-hard prick until she, too, climaxed with a series of intense yelps and squeals. Then the couple collapsed on the mattress and the center of the party room went almost completely black.
"Before I could even think about anything, the wall opposite Bernard and me, a white one, lit up with a rectangular beam. Some images flickered. It was going to be a movie. Even before the title showed, I knew what kind of movie it was going to be.
" Girls' School. That's what the title said when it came on.
"I'd always heard about stag movies, but I'd never had the opportunity to see one before. I'd always been told that they were very crudely made-black-and-white films with terrible actors and jiggly cameras. Maybe most of them are like that, but this one wasn't. I never found out for sure, but I think it might have been shot by Mr. Cameron himself.
"The film was in color and had sound. It was very professionally done, like a movie you'd see at any theater, except it was a lot shorter-and a hell of a lot dirtier. The first scene showed some schoolgirls, all dressed in white blouses and short blue dresses, doing their lessons in a small study hall. There were about ten girls in all, at four tables. They all were deep in their studies, working hard, and most seemed a little scared. They looked up at the two black-dressed matrons or teachers who walked around the room with quick, frightened glances. None of the girls seemed older than fifteen, and some looked as young as eleven. Most of the younger ones hardly had little titties at all, but a few of the older ones were very well endowed, and their large breasts strained against their white blouses.
"Suddenly one of the older women watching over them shouted: 'Time for bed, ladies. To your rooms. Lights out in ten minutes.' All the girls jumped up and headed for the door of the study hall, leaving in an orderly fashion. This was apparently a very strict school.
"The next scene jumped to one of the school's dormitory rooms. Five girls shared it. One of the girls was in the bathroom, brushing her teeth. The other four were gathered together in the bedroom, conspiring.
" 'I think it's about time we showed that snotty girl something,' one of them, about fifteen, told the others.
" 'She probably already knows about us,' a younger one, a pretty little blonde, told her.
'At least she should from all the noise you and Barbara made last night.'
"Another girl of about thirteen covered her face as if in shame, but was actually giggling. I guess that was supposed to be Barbara.
" 'It doesn't matter what she knows,' the fourth girl said. She was rather fat and dark, and had tremendous breasts under her white blouse. The way she sat on the bed, facing the camera with her short skirt raised up to her hips and her heavy legs in a lotus position, her panties were easily visible. 'I think Karen's right. We oughta rape her tonight.'
" 'Rape who! ? ' The shocked voice came from the bathroom door. It was the new girl. As she stood in the light of the bathroom, it could be seen that she was very cute, even beautiful. Long, black hair down to her waist. Huge, innocent eyes dotted with dark brown pupils. Small but perky breasts. Flawless, white legs that were young but curvaceous. A cute, very small red mouth. She was slim and small, but was obviously going to be a very attractive young woman.
" 'You!' came the answer to her question. It came from the fat girl, who jumped up off the bed with more speed than I would have imagined she could muster, and headed for the young black-haired girl.
"The young girl stumbled back and tried to shut the bathroom door before the fat girl got to her, but she wasn't fast enough. The fat girl grabbed her arms and pulled her, struggling, into the bedroom. She threw her on the bed, the other girls scrambling out of the way. Then the other oldest girl sat beside the young girl on the bed and pulled her over her knees. Down was jerked the short skirt. Underneath were some pink panties. Down they came, too. Revealed by this action was a scrumptious, curvy white butt. Even I could appreciate its beauty. The girls in the movie certainly did. Every one of them had her eyes pinned on that ass.
"Screams filled the room. The young new girl was having her ass cheeks spanked, but hard, by the fifteen-year-old blonde across whose lap she lay. The youngest of the other girls, who must have been either eleven or twelve, squatted beside the new girl quickly and clamped her hand over her mouth to keep her screams from being heard.
"Down came the older girl's hand, again and again, until the new girl's bouncy ass was bright red from the punishment. The older girl stopped.
" 'Unless you want more of that, keep your mouth shut and do as we tell you,' she said to the beaten girl. 'Are you going to make any
noise?' The young girl vigorously shook her head. Off came the hand from her mouth.
"Before she knew it she had four girls undoing the buttons on her blouse. Needless to say, it only took a few seconds to get it off. She was completely nude. She had a beautiful, if very young, body. The girls stood back and admired it openmouthed for a moment, and then, as if one, they jumped on the bed and covered her with kisses, caressed every inch of her body, probed every hole and crease, fondled each mound and curve.
"Of course, the whole thing turned into an orgy. The girls in the movie did everything women can do together. They even had a vibrator and a dildo to work over the girl and each other with. It went on for ten more minutes, then the movie was over.
"In my hand I had a covered but obviously fully erect prick. I immediately got to work uncovering it. I pulled down Bernard's fly, dug into his pants, and pulled out his great plum-headed cock. I dived onto it with my mouth. I heard him groan above me.
" 'But ... but the show's not over, Laurie,' I heard him stutter.
"I didn't care. I was hot, and very glad to finally have my husband's stiff prick available. I wasn't going to waste it. Out of the side of
my eye I could see more action starting at the center of the party room. Live couples, maybe four or five of them, all naked and forming patterns on the floor. But I never looked directly at them. I was too busy.
"Bernard's prick tasted delicious. I loved going down on that monster. And as I sucked, it just grew and grew. I thought it never would stop. It filled my mouth completely, made my jaws ache.
"After a while, Bernard divested me of my clothes, fondled my body, especially my tits, and lay down so that we could perform a sixty-nine. He was very experienced at that-very, very good. I came after only two or three minutes of his lapping tongue on my wet pussy. Two minutes later I came again. I came a total of five times before he finally flooded my eager, slurping mouth with shot after shot of his cock cream. I swallowed every delicious drop.
"After that we watched the entertainment some more. Miraculously, he got another hard on. This time we fell to the floor and fucked, trying out three different positions before he shot a load into my cunt.
"That was a wonderful night. I thought that my marriage was going to be a happy, if a bit perverse, one. If Bernard needed to be a voyeur to get turned on, that was okay with me.
"As it soon became evident, my movie director husband needed much more than that.
"We had sex-pretty wonderful sex-over the next few weeks. Usually, though not always, viewing dirty movies or having the servants join in or having me suck him off got Bernard an erection. But gradually, his impotence returned.
"One night we were in my bedroom, on my huge circular bed. We'd tried everything, and nothing had made his shriveled-up cock perk up in the least. It sat there in his lap like a little dead mouse.
" 'There's something that will work. It always works,' Bernard said.
" 'What's that? Let's try it,' I said. I have to admit I was pretty enthusiastic. But I didn't even imagine what he had in mind.
" 'Are you sure you want to know?' The way he said it sounded kinda ominous.
" 'Y ... yes,' I answered hesitantly.
"He summoned Janet. 'Janet, bring my kit.' Janet, as always, obeyed impassionately. His kit? What could that be, in heaven's name?
"I should have said in hell's name. Janet came into my bedroom a few minutes later carrying something that looked like a suitcase. She set in on the bed next to Bernard. He turned to me with one hand on the case. 'Are
you sure now that you want to see this?'
"Well, I wasn't sure at all by now. But I hoped it would be something like dildoes, vibrators, French ticklers, things like that. So I nodded.
"It wasn't what I had hoped.
"The case was full of instruments of torture. Switches, rods, barbed devices. And a huge, thick, very long whip. 'I want you to use these on me,' Bernard said to me, picking up the whip and caressing it as if it were something alive.
" 'I can't! I can't!' I cried, covering my face with my hands.
" 'You must!' he yelled. 'You must, if you want our marriage to last. It's the only way I can ... love.'
"That night I lay passively on the bed and watched Janet whip and torture my sixty-year-old husband. I cried the whole night.
"The next day I left the Cameron mansion, never to return. I went to my mother's house. The marriage was annulled. Now I'm dating David. He's eighteen. In a few years we may get married. But not now. Right now, marriage means something horrible to me, and I must wash that from my mind."
CHAPTER TWO
My Teen-age Hubby
"I couldn't tell you about Bruce and me if I had to do it face to face. This tape recorder is perfect. Bruce is at school now, and I can just lie here and blush in private and tell about us.
"Last night he gave it to me, but good! Have I married me a stud! I can't believe I managed to get him.
"Thirty-four-year-old me, Glenda F-, married to a sixteen-year-old boy who is six feet two and weighs a tick over two hundred pounds.
"I'm a very basic woman, and I know what I like ... and I like having him on top of me every night, and sometimes every afternoon, giving me that wonderfully big pounding we both enjoy so much.
"Last night ... God in heaven, last night! We've been married four months and he's still ... he still can't get over having me available any time he wants to do it.
"I can tell when he wants it; he gets a certain grin and a certain glint in his brown eyes. He grins and glints a lot. And his pants bulge!
"I don't think that big kidney prodder of his ever gets soft for more than fifteen minutes.
"Last night I knew he was going to attack me with that thing as soon as we finished supper, so I just stacked the dishes and walked right back into the living room.
"My stomach was fluttering and my privates were wet. He affects me like that.
"He knows when I want it, too. My nipples get big and hard. They swell out something awful. And Maybe I get a glint in my eyes.
"He patted the sofa with his big strong hand. His pants were bulging. He said, 'I've got a lot of pressure built up.'
"I said, 'That's bad for a healthy, growing boy.' I sat next to him and his hands were all over me. He got his mouth on mine and we were into sex land instantly.
"Bruce doesn't like to 'waste time,' as he says. He hasn't any finesse, or at least not much, yet. I'm slowly teaching him, though.
"He fumbled with my blouse buttons. His hands still shake when he's undressing me. I love that.
"He got his hand inside my blouse and scooped my left breast into his palm. His hand held it like a dumpling, and he squeezed it nice and gentle.
"I've convinced him a woman doesn't enjoy mauling. It's just that he's so eager!
"I don't wear a bra around the apartment when he's home. He used to fumble and pull so much! He tore the hooks right out of two bras in the beginning, so I just stopped wearing them in private.
"We were kissing, tongue style-french. I heat up good when his tongue tickles mine and comes into my mouth so strong and wild.
"His hand was hot on my breasts. His mouth was hot on my lips. I got all goose-bumpy with happiness.
"I put my hand on that tremendous bulge in his pants and squeezed that thing of his.
"Bruce kind of snorted and stabbed his tongue way back into my mouth. That sent shivers through me, too.
"I'm a small woman, only five feet two, and only one hundred ten pounds. I'm soft and warm, but not flabby anywhere.
"I'm old enough, just, to be his mother. But I look young for my age, and I take care of myself.
"I knew what Bruce wanted. While we continued kissing, I unzipped his pants and got my hand in on that big thing, all hot and thick and stiff.
"That was against my grain at first, being aggressive in digging it out and playing with it. But Bruce loves me to do it, and I'm getting so I very much enjoy handling it.
"I got my fingers around it and pulled it out. Then I pulled the skin up and down slowly. If I do that fast, he gets too excited and sometimes shoots off. Then he gets mad.
"I can't go down on it, either, until after he's gone off in me at least once. That brings the pressure down a lot and he lets me do what I want.
"I like to do the mouth thing with him. It gives a thrill to me. I don't know why, exactly. I'm probably just a depraved, cradle-robbing nympho.
"I think I'm close to getting him to go down on me. He almost tried it a couple of nights ago. But he thinks it isn't 'manly.' He's still a child emotionally and intellectually, even if his body is full-grown.
"Back to last night. There we were on the sofa, me with my hand wrapped around his thing, him with his mouth on my mouth and his hand inside my blouse.
"Then he started going under my skirt, rubbing my cunt, right on the triangle. He must have felt how wet I was. He said, 'You're hot enough now, I guess. Come on.'
"He pulled me up and we went into the bedroom. I got undressed fast, because Bruce doesn't like to wait.
"He was out of his pants and shirt and things like lightning. I turned around and there he was, grinning, proud as a peacock, a big hunk of male with a big part of him sticking way out, hard as a rock.
"We got on the bed and he was on top of me in a second.
"I love being covered like that-quickly and selfishly. I love the weight, and the feeling of being helpless. And especially I like the feel of him poking at my entrance and finally finding the way in and coming in-like a pile driver!
"It hurts when he enters me so hard and fast, but it shivers me, too, and I always gasp and throw my arms around his big, solid back and open my thighs even more to let him push it all into me.
"Umm! I can almost feel the size of him in me right now. Bruce loves to shove it all into me. He can feel me get tight and drawn-up inside and out.
"Then he ... last night ... he kissed my neck and put his head down next to mine, and dug his hands under my bottom, and put all his weight on my chest (my poor breasts got squashed, as usual), and he just plowed into me-right up into my belly-and shook me to my back teeth with those wonderful thrusts.
"It's like making love to a runaway locomotive. He won't stop for anything when he's going like that. .
"When he's in me like that I get all shivery and hot and gooey and breathless. I make all kinds of noises I shouldn't make. I get carried away, just like him.
"He smacks my twat like he is punishing me. But it's a delightful punishment, having him sink all that into me and jolt me till the bed is almost walking.
"I get dizzy and all glowy in my belly. There's a special little organ I have-a clit, Bruce calls it-which gets all tingly and sends heavy shocks of pleasure every time he touches it or crushes it when he's pounding into me.
"I guess it's obvious I don't know much about sex anatomy. I don't think it's important. I know what feels good and how to do it, so....
"My mother was a puritan. She kept all that sex talk and the sex words away from me, as much as she could. But she couldn't stop me from having sex desires.
"So now I'm ashamed to say the words, but not ashamed to do it. And do I do it!
"Last night ... I keep drifting away from telling about last night. It's so easy to do that. ... Last night Bruce was giving it to me-pound, pound, pound, pound, and the bed was squeaking and I was gasping and sounding like a pig, squealing, and enjoying it so much!
"Oh! That thing he rams into me! The way he grunts and shoves!
"I had a climax within a minute. A good thing I did, too, because he went off a few seconds later.
"Bruce is quick the first time. Sometimes it only takes him a half a minute or so. Just barely in, and a few deep plunges, and he's right there into the peak pleasure and he can't stop.
"Last night I was clutching him, and my belly was sucking in and out, and I had that wild, fluttery, hot overflowing sensation. It was a strong one. He was extra-big in me, really deep, and that sent me off.
"When I started tightening and spasming inside, it made him go. I was crying and whimpering and jerking up to get even more of his cock, meeting those crushing thrusts, and he started that deep, husky, shaky breathing, and I know from that he's at the edge and going over.
"I felt those ... incredible ... last few smashing plunges, and I thought my insides would rupture.
"Then he was ... spurting in me. Spurting. What an ugly word. But that's what he does when he goes off. He spurts that stuff way up into my belly.
"Yes, I take the Pill. Bruce is too young to be a good father, I think. I don't really want children, anyway. If we ever break up, it'll be because he wants somebody younger ... or because I won't have a child.
"I'll face that when I come to it.
"After he spurted, he went dead on me. That I don't like. Just dead weight. Two hundred pounds is too much to bear when I'm desexed like that, after I have a climax.
"Bruce likes to rest a minute on me, though, so he does. And I can feel him shrinking inside me. And I always worry about that stuff dribbling out and staining the pretty candy-striped sheets or blankets or bedspread. Bruce doesn't care. He doesn't have to wash them or pay for them.
"I usually try to get out from under him after a minute, and clean up in the bathroom. I bring back a warm, damp washcloth and carefully wash him.
"Bruce smiles because he knows I wash him off for two reasons ... to make him clean, and also because I want to suck him off and won't do it if he's all slimy with that stuff....
"Last night I was really eager to do it. I don't know why. It thrills me to suck his cock, and especially soon after he's gone off and his cock is small and soft.
"I just tossed the washcloth back into the bathroom (it landed in the tub) and bent over his middle and started in. I just filled my mouth with his wet noodle.
"He hates for me to call it that. When it gets big and hard he says, 'How do you like my "wet noodle" now?'
"I like it fine! It's just more fun and easier to do when it's small and soft.
"I ... sucked ... him. I like the feel of it in my mouth. It's just the right size, soft. I love to loll it around in my mouth and use my tongue every way I can think of.
"I was going to town on it last night, getting myself all steamy again, when it started to get big again.
"I was glad he was getting hard, but sorry,
too. His cock is so big when it's all stiff and hard. I like it when it's a nice warm pussy.
"I didn't stop my sucking. I just had to give up more and more of it as it got bigger and bigger.
"I like to lick my tongue on the head of it. Especially on the underside, the part that faces his feet. It's very sensitive there, and if I concentrate on that spot I can get him to squirm and pant in a few minutes.
"I haven't gotten Bruce to let me do it all the way yet, just as I haven't got him to do it to me yet, but soon, I think....
"I sucked like the devil last night! I had it hard as a rock and I was licking fast and even pumping the skin at the same time. I was really trying to get him off in my mouth. I don't know why it's important to me to get him to spurt in my mouth.
"Ugh. The sheer thought turns me off! I want to spit. But at the same time I do want him to do it! I'm all mixed up.
"I don't know what my reaction will be if he does ever spurt in my mouth. I may vomit or I may even ... swallow it. Ugh! Why do I think of such awful acts?
"I've got to get dressed for work now. Didn't think I was a lady of leisure, did you?"
* * *
"Hello again. It's next morning. I have about ten minutes to burn. I'm naked on the bed, tingling. Bruce just went off to school, but before he left he gave me something to remember him by until he gets home from school and I get in from work. He gets in before me.
"He woke up with a hard on and just rolled over on top of me and dry-rubbed it in. It took me about a minute to oil me up enough to make it fun. Then it got to be a pure pleasure. I went off strong!
"But last night! Last night I finally managed to do it-the mouth thing-all the way. I mean I got my wish! And then some. Did I ever get a mouthful!
"It makes my stomach turn to remember it. But I was so hot and bothered last night....
"It was the same routine as usual ... he got into me quick and took off the edge of his 'pressure,' and then I washed him and started to suck him.
"It gets easier to say suck the more I say it, by the way. Hmm. Fuck. Fuck. Suck. Listen to me!
"I was trying to use my mouth as a ... as a cunt. I was bobbing my head up and down and keeping my mouth tight on him and wiggling my tongue around him all the while.
"I was sucking him, but good. I had a kind of fever in my blood. My privates ... all right, my cunt ... was wet again, tingling and itching. I was ready to get pounded-fucked!-again, but I perversely wanted Bruce, my wonderful sixteen-year-old stud of a husband, I wanted to taste his stuff shooting into my mouth!
"Oh, Glenda, you're sick!
"I said the usual thing when I got him gasping and squirming from my sucking. I said, 'Don't stop me this time, darling.'
"He always said before last night, he always said, 'I want to finish in you,' or something like that, and he'd push me over onto my back and plunge that big thing into my belly!
"But last night he only grinned funny and said, 'Okay, let's see you do it.'
"I went all icy and hot. I felt a hot blush turn my face red. I was committed finally, at last, and I didn't-and did-want to go through with it....
"I bent over his middle again and squeezed that big cock in my hands and got my mouth down on it again and closed my eyes and went to it.
"I used my tongue like it was a snake. And I tried to turn off my mind which was getting all up tight about what was coming.
"I straddled his leg and rubbed my cunt on it as I sucked. I got a glow from that, let me tell you, from rubbing myself on his leg. It made me so shivery and hot I didn't care. I wanted him to shoot off in my mouth!
"I sucked and tongued and dragged my juicy cunt in a back-and-forth track on his leg, like a snail, leaving a trail of goo.
"I got myself right on the edge of coming, that way. I kept myself right on the edge until I felt him go all tight and shaky and groan a certain way, and then I let myself go.
"I slithered on his leg, and I kept on sucking, and I was in so much of a blazing climax of my own, I hardly noticed the stuff that shot up into my mouth.
"I sort of woke up with a mouthful, though, and it was dripping out, and I was still sucking him, and his thing was still pouring stuff, and he was thrashing around and thrusting up into my mouth like a crazy man. Almost shouting. Panting so fast!
"I went into a kind of shock, I think. I had a mouthful of icky stuff and I didn't know what to do.
"I put my hand over my mouth and ... and something broke in my mind. That's the only way I can describe it-and I made a terrible
face, and I swallowed every last bit of it.
"I swallowed. And I'll do it again, whenever Bruce wants me to. I'm his totally now. And he's mine, in a way a marriage certificate can't match. It's deeper. When a woman swallows her man's come, she has given herself to him body and soul.
"I feel very happy now.
"I have to quit talking now....
"I'm back. It's the next morning again. This is about the only private free time I have in the apartment.
"Bruce is sixteen, but he looks a lot older. He has thin, reddish brown hair and it's receding. He'll be bald by the time he's twenty-five, I'm sure. And he's got a heavy beard. He's actually a mature man, physically. He looks way over twenty. Some boys develop very fast.
"I'm young-looking, as I think I said, for thirty-four, and I firmly believe that our marriage is right for us. I'll tell you why.
"It's what I read once in a woman's magazine-women don't mature sexually until their mid-thirties, while the male maturity, as far as sexual ability goes, is their middle to late teens.
"There are social and psychological problems for Bruce and me, perhaps, but physically, sexually, we're matched.
"I know most people would think our marriage scandalous. I've been called a cradle-robber to my face. By Bruce's mother-because she doesn't look much older than me. In fact, we look a little alike. And sometimes, when he's half asleep, Bruce will cuddle up to me and call me 'Mommy.'
"I explained to his parents that women live longer than men on the average and that we'd be growing old together on an equal footing. And besides, after a man is forty or so he usually looks about the same age as a woman in her fifties, if she's kept herself up.
"Bruce's father was for the marriage. That helped. But it was for purely money reasons. Bruce is my responsibility now. I'll put him through college. I'm supporting him now.
"The G-family isn't well off. He's a city park employee. The only white man in the whole crew. And he's not the supervisor.
"It was a lot tougher to get permission for Bruce to stay in school once we were married. The school people felt he would 'contaminate' the other virginal students by talking sex or something.
"From what Bruce tells me, he couldn't educate anybody in sex at school-they all know everything, and they all use the words, including the girls.
"I'm keeping Bruce off the streets at night, and in bed where a boy his age belongs.
"I had to threaten to sue the school board before they let Bruce back in, though. Our case was in the papers. Even on the AP news wire, I understand....
"Back again. This is getting to be fun, telling all about Bruce and me. Bruce and I? I'm getting so I like talking sex. Maybe I am a nympho! It's sure fun if I am.
"I met Bruce at school. I was the secretary to the principal, and Bruce was sent in for sassing a history teacher.
"I couldn't keep my eyes off him. He was barely sixteen then. Just beginning his junior year. I smiled at him a lot and told him not to worry.
"He liked me from the start.
"It would have ended there, except that I happened to meet him again two days later, in the lobby of a local theater. They were playing two horror films, and I love good horror movies. I was alone.
"I've had lots and lots of boyfriends! I've been sexually active ever since college. But I never married. Not till I found Bruce.
"Anyway, I saw Bruce in the lobby and he was alone, too, so I waved and caught his attention. He came over and we ended up seeing the pictures together. Sitting in the dark.
"I took a big chance and invited him over to my apartment after the show. For a coke and a piece of pie or something.
"It was just like in the movies, the way I seduced him. He couldn't believe this ... old ... woman was making a play for him.
"But I was! I sensed something about him. It wasn't just sex. Sex is super with him, but there's a basic compatibility, a sort of chemistry, that makes me love him, and him me, though he doesn't know it yet. That'll come with time and maturity. For now, Bruce is in it for the free sex, I think.
"I acted like a vamp, that night in my apartment with him, that first time. I 'changed into something more comfortable,' a slinky silk pa-jama set, and no bra, so my breasts bobbled around as I moved, and my nipples stuck out.
"I could see Bruce was sweating. He wanted to grab me, but was scared. He wasn't sure.
"I finally had to do it myself-I sat in his lap, right there at the kitchen table while he was eating his second big piece of pie.
"I said, 'You're very shy, Bruce. Don't you know when a girl wants some personal attention?'
He had his hands around me, as I sat on his lap, and he had to know I was naked under the pajamas, except for some thin panties. I could certainly feel the warmth of his hands sliding around in 'safe' places.
"I kissed him. The kiss finally convinced him. He forgot I was Mr. H-'s secretary. I became a hot-blooded girl in his arms, sitting on his lap, and he reacted quickly.
"Bruce slid his left hand up onto my right breast and squeezed and fondled it roughly. At the same time he started to kiss me back. And also I felt a swelling come up against my bottom from his crotch. I knew what it was.
"I squirmed around on that bulge, and it got bigger and harder under me. His hand was mauling my breasts, and he was kissing like an inexperienced but enthusiastic boy, which is what he was, really.
"I gave his mouth some of my tongue, and he jerked so hard I nearly fell off his lap. Right away, his right arm tightened around my waist and his left hand pushed into my pajama top.
"There I sat on his hard, doubled-over cock, with his hand pawing around in my pajamas on my naked flesh, and with our mouths glued together while he learned to use his tongue.
"It was exciting! I was wet in my panties.
"Bruce was tremendously aroused. It was a bit frightening to experience his passion. I could feel his heart thudding, and the terrible strength in his arms.
"You might call it rape, what he did to me. Except that I started it and let him do it. But I had the definite feeling I'd uncorked a force I couldn't control.
"He said, harsh and begging and threatening at the same time, 'You're not just teasing me, are you?'
"I whispered, 'No.'
"'Okay, then.' He just stood up from that kitchen chair with me in his arms, and he carried me down the short hall to the small bedroom.
"He tried to be gentle, but he didn't know how, and he was inexperienced and embarrassed, too. He told me later he'd only ... only fucked three girls a total of five times before me. And they were quickies, in the back seats of cars and in the bushes.
"Bruce sat down on the bed with me still in his arms and we kissed ... or I kissed him. I had my arms around his neck, holding on.
"Then he pushed me off his lap onto the bed and pushed me down on my back and started to fumble at my pajama-top buttons. His hands were shaking. But he got them open and opened my top and looked at my small white breasts and my big, puffed-up nipples.
"He grabbed with both hands, like a child, and watched as he squeezed and molded them.
"He was rough, and I said, 'Easy, easy ... it hurts when you twist them like that.'
" 'Sorry.' He continued to play with them, but more gently, and then licked his lips and said, 'Can I fuck you, Glenda?'
" 'If you want to.'
"His face lit up and there was no stopping him. He quickly unbuckled and unzipped and pushed his pants down past his knees.
"I saw how he was built there-his cock. You know. And I got a little shiver of fear, it was so big. Not tremendous, not something that I couldn't dare let in me, but pretty big. A lot bigger than normal.
"I've had a lot of men friends, and a couple were built like mules, so a large cock didn't terrify me, but the sight of Bruce's did shiver me, and at the same time it made me want to have it boring into me and pounding me.
"Bruce pulled the string on my pajama bottoms and hauled them down my hips and legs and off.
"I do have a nice pussy, I think. Rounded and plump, and not too much hair. Just a fluff in a kind of border around the crack.
"He didn't bother with playing with me there. He wanted to get his hard on inside me, and he wasn't going to waste time! He got between my legs and just poked away. I had to reach down, take his cock and guide it.
"When he felt the head go in, he just shoved, and I got a huge amount all at once. He gave a big 'Umm!' and shoved more and more in.
"I was stretched and in a little pain, but I didn't stop him or say anything. But did he ever hit bottom fast! I'll always remember that first feel of him going in like that. It didn't even occur to him to take his time and consider me.
"He had to get in, fuck me, and get that orgasm, before I changed my mind or something else happened.
"That was his thinking, I know. A lot of men are like that: guilty, ashamed, selfish, and they act like they're stealing something.
"Bruce fucked me so fast and hard! I was crushed under him, and wheezing grunts from the wild smacking I was taking down there.
"Ohhh, did he penetrate! Did he ever rattle my teeth! He was savage and ruthless ... a young stud. Doing what nature intended. Basic fucking!
"I had to force myself to let myself go, to enjoy it, to accept it. When I managed that, I got a tremendous thrill from it. I pulled my knees up higher, and held them with my hands hooked under, and was wide open to his thrusts.
"Bruce was snorting and gasping from his work. He was into a willing woman, and he was feeling the pleasure, and he wasn't going to stop!
"I was getting sweet jolts from each smack. He had his whole rump and hips and thighs behind those thrusts, and he was getting everything he had into me!
"I can't begin to describe the sensations a woman feels when a big, strong man is fucking her like that. It's instinct. It goes back to caveman days. It's so primitive and glorious, somehow.
"Bruce was fucking me down to my soul! I swear, it felt like that. I'd never had it so ferociously before. I'd never been used quite that way before.
"Before I knew it I was reacting wildly, like a bitch in heaJ. I dug my heels into the bed and started pushing up to meet those golden thrusts, to get a greater impact. Those meetings of our cock and cunt were part blow, part squish, part slide....
"I was quivering all over, just shaking, and panting with him as he got closer and closer to shooting off.
"Bruce started trembling in my arms, and he sounded agonized, and his thrusts were just so wild and deep! He slid way into me.
"I know I shuddered, I was so far into the experience with him. I entered my orgasm with him. And it was a furnace! It was skyrockets and explosions! I was almost blacking out from not getting enough oxygen to feed all my organs and my brain, too. I was gone ... gone ... gone.
"I know the feeling, the sensation of him spurting deep in my belly was an added thrill. I didn't want a child, but that basic act, that ejacu ... spurting ... that was good! That's part of the game, part of the final joy of giving yourself to a man.
"You take his seed.
"Bruce was dead weight on me when he finished shooting off in me. He went loose and quiet, except for his heavy breathing and sighing.
"I could feel his cock shrinking in me, and I could feel a dribble of that stuff oozing down my crotch.
"I got free of him and went quick to wash.
"When I got back, with just my open pajama top on, he was pulling up his pants. I said, 'Why are you doing that? Do you have to leave?'
"He was surprised. His eyes sparkled. "Hey, you mean you want to do it again?'
" 'Of course, if you want to,' I said. We smiled at each other.
"Bruce went into the kitchen and finished his pie, and drank a glass of milk, and came back, and we fucked again. And later, again.
"Then he had to go home. But he came over to my apartment almost every night for weeks, and especially weekends. We just fucked our brains out. It didn't stop being great. And we got very close.
"Whoops, got to run....
"Bruce almost didn't want me to go down on him the first time I tried it.
"We had just finished with our first fuck, one rainy afternoon after school, and I was using the usual damp cloth to wipe him clean, when I asked him if any of his previous girls had ever done 'the mouth thing' on him.
"He made a face and said no, only prostitutes do that. That's what his dad had told him.
"I argued that most couples did that now-days. I even showed him a book that said so. But he just made a face.
"Then he said, 'You want to do it?'
"I said yes, and I met his eyes. I said, T want to do it to you because I love you.'
"He blinked fast. 'Hey, Glenda.... '
"Bruce got all weepy and hid his face against my breasts, and said he loved me, too. I got all goose-bumpy when he said that.
"We talked about loving each other for a while, and then he wanted to fuck me. I said I wanted to try going down on him for a minute.
"He said okay, for a minute, but I had to stop when he told me to.
"I agreed, and put my hand on his half-hard cock. I played with it and it grew to its limit. He was watching, and I was embarrassed to begin. But finally I lowered my head and touched my tongue to the tip. I gradually licked all around the head, and then put my lips on top in a kiss, and just let my lips slide open and let my head go down, and let the head come into my mouth.
"I'd done it a lot for other men. I wasn't doing it for the first time. But I'd never swallowed come. I'd never felt as close to a man as I do to Bruce, though. That made it special.
"I had the head in my mouth, and I started using my tongue on the sensitive place. Wow! He jumped and tensed and gasped all at once.
"I asked him, 'like it?' He said it was okay. But his cock was throbbing hard and his belly muscles were tight.
"I went back to work on it. I got involved, and was soon sucking and swirling my tongue and bobbing my head. I could feel him tightening up, his whole body, and his breathing got heavy. And he said, sort of reluctantly, I thought, 'Stop!'
"He got on me then and fucked me. It took him about ten seconds-about fifteen good deep plunges-and he went off.
"I was left at the post that time. I didn't make it. But later I did, when he finger-fucked me. He knew he'd gone off too fast, so he waited till I came back from the bathroom and had him wiped off. Then he started kissing me and even licking my nipples, which he knows I love, but he doesn't like to do too much, and he worked his big, long middle finger into my pussy, and started fucking me with it.
"I enjoyed it. The rough skin at the base of his finger hit my sensitive spot just right, and I got that shivery hot sensation in a minute or two that meant I was going to go over the edge.
"I threw my arms around him and kissed him passionately, and I begged, 'Don't stop, don't stop!'
"He kept on jabbing his finger, even faster, and I went all shaky and melty and started panting and jerking my hips like crazy.
"It was a very good climax. I was all grateful smiles when the glow left me and I told him to stop.
"Bruce grinned and said a lovely thing that told me he was involved, for sure. He said, 'I get a charge out of giving you that. It makes it better for me, when I fuck you, if you can make it with me.'
"I kissed him and said it was that way for me, too.
"Gotta run!. . .
"I did it! Ummm, last night Bruce went down on me. My young husband licked my pussy. And not only did he lick it, I kind of think he---likes doing it! Because he got me off with his licking, that's why! And, ohhh, was it a creamy-dreamy climax!
"But let me tell all about it. I know Bruce and I are for life now, after last night.
"To begin with, he let me suck him off all the way, after the usual first fuck, of course. And this time it was easier for me to swallow his stuff.
"That suck-off was different in another way, too, because he got involved in it. He told me which way he liked to be sucked.
"It was like this: I was hunched over his cock, with my mouth full of it, slowly sliding my mouth up and down on it, and he said, 'Use your tongue more-on the underside."
"That gave me a thrill, him telling me what he liked from my sucking. So I swirled my tongue against the underside of the head for a minute, and he groaned and said, 'That's it! God, that feels good!'
"I got drippy in my pussy from him saying that. I started sliding my wet crotch on his leg, and that started me shivering with pleasure. Sometimes I think I could have a hundred climaxes in a row if I could stay awake long enough. I can just come and come and come.
"I got more and more excited the more Bruce got closer and closer to shooting off in my mouth.
"He was moaning and getting his muscles tight and shoving up at my mouth. I kept on swirling my tongue on that special place and bobbing my head....
"Bruce's breathing was loud and quivery. I saw his arms go out to grip the edges of the bed. His cock got stiffer and bigger in my mouth. I knew he was coming. He gasped and went all rigid, and his hard on gave a big throb in my mouth, and I went icy and shivery hot, and a big gob of his come shot up into my throat.
"I sort of moaned with him and tried to keep my mouth going, and my tongue, too, because he was bucking up and down and sideways and almost yelling. It was all I could do to stay with him and keep my mouth going on his cock, which was spurting and jerking all the time, just filling my mouth with that thick, slimy stuff. But, like I said, I swallowed it. The trick for me was to think of something else.
"Bruce just lay there like a dead man, but breathing, with a silly smile on his face. He said, 'That's a lot of fun for no work.'
"I said, 'It's a lot of fun doing it, too.' Then I said, kidding, 'Try it, you'll like it.'
"He surprised me by saying, 'Okay, I will, if you go in and wash real good.'
"Boy, I was in that bathroom in a flash. I even put some perfume down on my fluff, and scented body powder inside my thighs, all around. I was bubbly with excitement.
"Bruce didn't back out, either. He just said, 'Don't you go telling any of your girl friends I did this!'
"I promised. And he said, 'Okay, you better tell me how to do it.'
"So I lay on my back and spread my legs and told him to get on his stomach, you know, with his head between my thighs. ...
"Then I put my hands down on my pussy and pulled my crack open for him. I said, 'Just lick in there, darling, lick up and down.'
"He lowered his head and I sort of held my breath. Then I felt the touch of his tongue, and a wild, weird shiver raced through me, and I inhaled sharply.
"He licked up and down, and wow! did he ever hit the right spot up near the top. My clit. My little thing.
"I started to get thrills of pleasure right away. It was a sweet, shivery, sparkling kind of sensation. Each time his tongue-tip touched there I was in a brief heaven. Then his tongue left me and started licking up from the bottom of my crack, again.
"I gasped, when he licked my clit ... I gasped, 'Oh, there! There!'
"Bruce was breathing fast, too, with me. And, immediately, his tongue concentrated on licking over my special place.
"Oh, it was so sweet and honey-like and ... and like glowing! I gasped, 'Oh, yes, darling, there! You're doing me so good!'
"He was uncomfortable because he had no place to put his arms, so he had an inspiration and slid his hands under my thighs and sort of embraced them with each arm.
"Bruce was really trying to get me off. I know it. He didn't seem to be reluctant at all. He started to snuffle and press his mouth up against my pussy.
"I was squirming and moaning. When he pressed his hot mouth to me there I got a frothy, creamy feeling in my belly and I moaned, 'Oh, Bruce, I love you ... I love you!'
"His tongue was doing such wonderful things! It was swirling over my clit the way I swirled my tongue on his cock.
"It was ... it is such a delicious sensation that way ... all silky and sort of rough, too, in a way.
"I couldn't keep my hands away from his head. I ran my fingers through his hair and held him, and just about lost my mind as the pleasure got stronger and stronger.
"My pussy started moving against his mouth as if it had a mind of its own. I was panting like crazy and calling his name....
"I get a glow just remembering it. That climax blew my mind. It was incredible. Bruce just wouldn't stop licking me!
"I hit the peak, and the pleasure got real sharp and piercing, so I had to double up and push his head away.
"Bruce didn't want to stop!
"I gasped, 'It was so great ... so good.... ' I just lay there with my legs wide open as he came up over me.
"Suddenly I realized he had a tremendous hard on. It was hard as a rock again, and he was going to fuck me! I whimpered.
"Bruce scooped my knees up with his hands and doubled me over. He had a strange look on his face. His mouth was still wet from my pussy.
"He poked the head into my pussy and it was just the right angle, because he found just the right place and went into me. He slid right in, all the way! I groaned and he groaned. The sensations were exquisite for me. He started to fuck like a bull, and I was out of my head again! It was just too much! My belly sucked and bloated and spasmed. I was wailing and panting ... I hugged him so tight! GOD! OH, GOD, what a fuck that was for me, right on top of him tonguing me like that!
"I'm limp and hot and juicy now just from telling about it. I wish Bruce was here now!
"He was thrusting all of his cock into me with each stroke, just crushing it into me! I was a glory hole. I was so aroused and passionate, I took it-and wanted to be stretched even more!
"Bruce must have been really turned on by going down on me, because after only a dozen plunges he started to shake and lose rhythm. His thrusts got heavy and savage! I was like a rag doll under him. He was slamming his huge cock into me ... and I was loving it!
"Then I felt that weird throbbing as he spurted. He made tortured sounds, like his guts were being pulled out of him.
"And I did, too! I had another climax, right along with him. It was like going through a golden wringer. I didn't have anything left when he stopped thrusting and collapsed on me.
"After a few minutes he rolled off me, and I dragged myself into the bathroom to clean up. I wiped him off, too. But Bruce was asleep when I did it.
"I managed to tug the sheet and blanket down under him, then pull them over him. Then I snuggled close, and in his sleep he put his arm over me....
"Well, a lot of people think I should have waited till Bruce was at least eighteen. They say I've cheated him of a normal youth and that I vamped him.
"I know-I guess all that's true. Once I knew him, and once we went to bed, I couldn't think of anything else but capturing himand holding him.
"I agree, I agree. I'm probably neurotic, and afraid of life, and afraid to marry a mature man. I probably feel more at home as the 'mother' who needs a young, inexperienced boy to be superior to....
"I guess I am like the old men who want virgins.
"I don't care, though. I'm happy.
"I know Bruce might get up tight about my age. I know he gets kidded a lot at school about me. But he doesn't seem to mind it. He's been in a couple of fights.
"I'll hold onto him as long as I can, any way I can! If I can keep him ten years ... five years, I think I can keep him all my life...."
CHAPTER THREE
June and December
"My name is Franklin, but I'm usually called Frank. Not just Frank, but 'Old Frank,' or 'Over-the-Hill Frank,' or 'Grandpa Frank,' something like that. Not that I'm all that old, mind you; I'm only in my early sixties-which isn't really so bad, once you get there. At least, you can say you've outlived a lot of the kids you grew up with, kids that got killed in one of the wars, or who got shot robbing a store, or who were the cops who got shot by some damned criminal. Of course, I'm around kids most of the time-kids who get into trouble in one way or another. I'm a youth counselor, and I really dig being around kids. That's why I get called all those names, because most kids think you're old at forty, and in your sixties--well, forget it! You might as well climb in the grave and save them all the trouble. That's the way most of the kids feel. And, really, I guess I felt that way when I was their age, too.
"I don't have to be a youth counselor-in fact, I should be doing only administrative work at this point-but I enjoy working with young hoods who think they're the toughest guys ever. Some, I've been able to help; the others are still in jail, or dead. But who would have thought that an old guy like me would fall for a young chick the age of Bertie ? I sure wouldn't have; in fact, I thought I was too smart to do something like that. I've seen older guys fall for young chicks-and just drive themselves crazy while the young vixens twisted them around their finger, screwed every young joint in sight, ate up all their money, and then dumped them, leaving them older, broker, and maybe wiser. They say, 'There's no fool like an old fool,' and I guess there's a lot of truth to that.
"But I can't complain. Bertie has done me a lot of good, really-and she would have no reason to pick up and walk out on me, leaving me holding the bag, so to speak. That's because I did a smart thing-but, let's not get ahead of the story.
"I met Bertie through one of my boys, a kid named Gary who thought he was as tough as they come. Gary was up for stealing a car, and I was trying to get him put on probation so I could work with him, and try to get him to realize that it was cheaper-and easier-to work hard and buy a car. That's a hard concept to get across to a lot of kids, and it isn't always true, either. But anyway, Bertie and Gary's girl friend, Carol, were there in court with him. I didn't pay much attention to either Carol or Bertie; after all, I was intent on getting Gary off with probation-with keeping him from getting sent up, where he was almost certain to become a hardened criminal, and be all the harder to get through to.
"Both Carol and Bertie were as sharp as they come. They were dressed in miniskirts, showing off their smooth, soft thighs, and their blouses were cut so low the nipples were almost ready to fall out. You know the type: sexy as hell-and they know it, and they're going to play it for all it's worth. A lot of the boys were staring at them openly or trying to look up under what little there was of their skirts; but you get to be my age and you learn to be a bit more subtle. Actually, you don't miss a thing; you probably get to see as far up under their skirts as the young cat who
makes it so obvious that's what he's trying to do. But at my age, you learn to take it all in without missing a syllable, while you're discussing some totally unrelated subject.
"Well, that was the first time I saw Bertie. She was a friend of Carol's, and she just came along to offer moral support. But Gary's case had a lot of complications, so it went on for quite some time, and pretty soon I got to know Bertie fairly well. Now, I'm hardly the type of guy who falls in love every time a cute young thing flips her miniskirt. In fact, I'd say I was fairly stable. After all, I've been through two marriages. The first ended in divorce, with no kids; I was in my mid-twenties then, and I had played the field for a while before I met Alice and settled down to a nice marriage which lasted over twenty years and left three sons. Alice died nearly ten years ago, and all our sons are grown up and married and have kids of their own. I've lived alone since then. My sons have each, in turn, suggested I come live with them; but, no, that would never work. I wouldn't really like it, and I know they'd get tired of it pretty fast. Oh, we see each other at holidays and at an occasional party now and then, but I figure they've got their own lives-and since meeting Bertie, I've sure as hell got mine.
"Anyway, by the time we'd gotten Gary's case worked out more or less to the satisfaction of everybody concerned, Bertie and I had gotten to know each other fairly well. One thing, she was bright; she could tell when I was trying to get Gary to talk, so I could understand him well enough to be of some help to him, and she sort of fell in and helped me. I've since suggested she go into youth counseling or social work or the like, but she isn't really interested that much. She's a legal secretary to a local communications firm, and she loves it-or did up to a few months ago when she had to quit for a while. That's one of the ways we've made our marriage work: we each have our own independence, our own life. Neither of us tries to own the other totally.
"I was fifty-eight years old when I met Bertie, and she was just eighteen. What a fool I would be to think that I could totally satisfy her all the time, as much as some young fellow her age. I mean that I'm having no trouble getting a hard on-it just doesn't get as hard as it did when I was eighteen, nor does it get hard as often. At eighteen, as I remember, it would get hard at least once an hour, if not more; now it's more like once a day. Which is usually more than enough. I don't really have the strength anymore to fuck five or six times a night. That is, I still might be able to do it for one night like I did when I was eighteen, but the next day I'd really be dragging. And I sure as hell couldn't do it for two or three nights running. But to most eighteen-year-old kids, it would be no big thing. They might be a little tired after the third night, but not totally exhausted, as I would be.
"As I say, it was just about three years ago that I first met Bertie. We would sometimes--all four of us, Gary and his girl, Carol, and Bertie and I-sit up fairly late at my office, and then we'd go out to dinner or coffee. Since Gary and Carol were together, Bertie and I just naturally sat together. And within a week, it seemed not only quite natural, but I missed her when she wasn't there. I said to myself, 'Whoa, boy.' And I started giving myself a good talking to; after all, I'm no kid anymore; I'm hardly the sort to fall madly and uncontrollably in love-and my youngest son is a good ten years older than Bertie. But age doesn't really mean much. It is very true that usually a man or a woman should stick within his or her own age-group-within ten or fifteen years, anyway. But there are always exceptions. And I can only look at Bertie and me as one of those exceptions.
"I mentioned how I started to miss Bertie not being close to me. Well, it was just at that time that my secretary quit; she went off and got married and her husband was from another city, so she naturally went with him. And Bertie quickly applied for the job. Not through me, but through the regular channels. I came to work one morning, and there she was, sitting there being broken in on her duties by Miss Reynolds, my temporary secretary. That was a funny day; I still remember it. Nothing seemed to go right. I just didn't get anything accomplished that day. Every time I'd start one thing, I'd think about Bertie and come out to see how she was doing, and then I'd forget what I'd been doing, and I had to start all over again.
"Well, within a week, she knew enough about what she was supposed to do to be on her own. But by that time I was hooked, and I insisted on taking her out to lunch every day and to dinner nearly every night. I suppose I had sexual designs on her from the start; but you learn to sublimate, as the psychoanalysts say. The thing is, you can be pretty sure that a girl of eighteen isn't going to leap at the first opportunity to have sex with a guy who is somewhat beyond his prime. Young people do it; old people talk about it. Oh, yeah, there are always the exceptions. But most girls of eighteen would look on a guy my age as a 'dirty old man' even if I smiled at her a little too warmly. If I were eighteen, too, she might just think me a little too aggressive or fresh, but after fifty-or is it thirty?-you suddenly turn into a dirty old man for wanting to do the same things you've been doing right along. And since you usually have fewer opportunities by that age, you're usually hungrier and tend to come on a little strong.
"So, no thanks. I don't need all that hassle. So even though I made quite a play for Bertie, I tried to keep my cool. I took her to dinner at some plush restaurant-no nightclubs, since she wasn't old enough-but I tried to impress her with my sophistication, my knowledge of the world: emphasizing all my good points, and not really trying to hide my weak points, but, you know, not trying to make them too plain. In a way, this is being dishonest, but after all, don't we all act that way when we're hooked? I mean that it makes a guy feel like he's a better person, and he just naturally tends to feel that his weak points don't exist, or at least that they don't really matter. A young guy in love tends to glow all over, and he acts as if he were the luckiest man in the world. And, in a way, he is. But he also tends to love extravagantly, wildly, passionately. Everything he does is colored with his emotions. An older man is somewhat more subdued, usually. He fits love in its 'proper place' and goes on about his business without letting it take over his whole life. I don't think that his love is any less deep or sincere or total-but it's just that he's lived longer and is able to take it in its stride more.
"For example, I fell hard for Bertie-but I kept telling myself right from the start that it was a one-way love, that she couldn't possibly feel about me the way I felt for her, that the relationship was doomed from the start. So I never made a pass at her; I never asked her to go to bed with me; I certainly would not have wanted to embarrass her-and meby asking her to marry me. What can a man my age offer an eighteen-year-old? Experience. Security. A quiet steady existence. That's about it. But most eighteen-year-olds are eager for some excitement-the unknown, the untried. They want to push themselves till they're exhausted, sometimes. A man my age gets exhausted much quicker than any teen-ager ever does.
"So I cooled it. I gently, subtly, let her know that I cared a great deal for her. But I left it at that, knew that it was only kindness that kept her going on dates with me. Sure, I knew she liked me. I was an uncle or a father-figure-but hardly the person she would choose for a sex partner. But fortunately I was wrong.
"After about three months of quiet dates-and no pass-she finally asked if she couldn't come up to my apartment with me for a drink. I was very pleased, of course, and I had to keep telling myself not to drink too much. I could easily have gotten a little high, and then made a silly ass of myself with her. So I gave her a fairly weak drink, and I drank a weak one, too. And we sat and talked. The lights were blazing, and I'd put on some quiet music : not especially romantic, just not loud or obtrusive.
" 'Do you mind if we turn off some of these lights?' she asked, kind of flirting with me.
"I told her to go ahead, and we were left with two soft, dim lamps. Then, I decided I'd better call her on it. I had the feeling that she was testing me, trying to push me to make a pass at her, and then she'd say no and leave me with pie on my face.
" 'Bertie,' I said, 'you must know that I like you a great deal. But ... ' I hesitated, unsure quite how to put it.
"She interrupted. 'But what? Don't you think I'm capable of caring for you in return?'
" 'Of course,' I smiled at her. 'But I'm not
a young man anymore. I can hardly compete with boys your age.'
" 'You wanna bet?' she challenged me. 'You act like you're ready for the grave. I think I know you better than that.'
" 'Well, no. I'm hardly that old yet. But. . . '
" 'But what?' she insisted, and she threw herself into my arms. How could I resist? She is really a beautiful, sexy young thing. How many times I've glanced at her breasts and found my mouth watering. Her breasts are not huge, but they jut forward at a saucy angle-just begging you to grab a handful. Soft, taffy-brown hair, worn fairly long; a slim, sleek waist, well rounded hips, and an ass that sticks out as if she were getting ready to sit down on your hard prick. And gorgeous legs. Some men are 'leg men,' others are 'breast men,' and still others are 'ass men.' That's what turns them on and that's what they keep looking for and looking at in a well-built girl. I've never been able to decide which category I fit into. When I see a groovy ass, I'm an ass man; when I see great tits, I think I'm a tit man; but when I see a pair of legs that makes me certain I'm a leg man. Let's face it. If the girl's pretty, I dig all of her.
"Anyway, when Bertie threw herself into my arms at that point, I threw caution to the winds. Take it when you can get it, I told myself. You may never get another chance like this. So I started kissing those soft lips of hers, and I felt her tongue probing into my mouth. And pretty soon my tongue was having a love duel with hers, searching out her mouth, tasting her subtly flavored lipstick, and swapping saliva. My hand found her breast and began to stroke it, playing with the nipple. And then it traveled on down to her waist. She lay back in my arms, and I moved so I was almost on top of her, careful not to put all my weight on her. Then my hands were free to move, and I began to stroke her thighs, which were exposed under the miniskirt. She wore no stockings, but had on red panties to match her skirt. Within no time, my fingers stroked through the thin cloth. Did I really turn her on that much-or was she just a hot number? I didn't stop to figure that one out; this was no time for such questions. Sexual desire took over, and I began kissing and caressing her every place I could reach. I nibbled at her breast through her blouse, and she lay back and shoved it in my mouth, letting out with a sort of purring moan.
"At that point, Bertie raised up and started to take off her clothes. I helped her; there's something stimulating about helping a girl undress. When she stood nude before me, I feasted my eyes on her beautiful, lush body. 'Ripe' is the best word to describe it. She posed and turned and twisted to show me her body at its best advantage from every angle.
'"Well, aren't you going to undress?' she finally had to ask me.
"I woke up then and began ripping off my clothes, but she insisted on helping me as I had helped her. I haven't the best body in the world, but I've managed to keep it in fairly good shape. A few sags here and there, a bit of a paunch, but nothing to be ashamed of, really. She took in my body with lustful eyes. Especially my prick; she found it very fascinating. And I could see she was being turned on as much as I was by looking at her. Then she moved toward me and I opened my arms and held her close, pushing my prick up flat against her belly. What a warm, soft body she had-and still has. I never tire of holding her close when we're both nude, just rubbing flesh against flesh. Of course, I'm a little more gentle right now. But what a terrific feeling that is.
"Then I kissed her again, and I began nibbling at her nose and her ears, and I let my tongue wander down her soft throat till I was once more nibbling at her nipples. She caressed my back and then worked down so she could grab my prick and squeeze it and move it back and forth. Anyplace is a good place for making love, but I decided the best place was still the bed, so I picked her up and crushed her to me, rubbing her breasts against my chest, while my prick jerked and hit against her beautiful ass every once in a while. And I carried her in and put her on the bed. Then I turned on the bed-lamp, so we could see what we were doing. Sometimes, it's more fun to feel your way in the dark. You cover the same territory, to be sure, but you're guided by touch rather than sight. But this first time-and for all I knew at the time, the last-I wanted to see everything and not miss a thing, and maybe fix it in my memory so I could at least remember her in every detail at later times.
"The sex act is sometimes unsatisfactory. There are times, and maybe people, that you screw who just don't do anything for you, or you for them. As some of my kids would put it, 'The vibes are all wrong.' When you push your prick in real hard, it hurts her; when you nibble her nipples, it tickles, or you bite too hard. You can't seem to reach her and get her to groove like you're doing, and by the time you're through, you're worn out. She hasn't been able to come, and by this time you're so irritated and fed up that you don't really give a damn. You just want her to get up and leave-or you just get up and get dressed and take off. I suppose nearly everyone has had episodes like that at one time or another.
"But, with Bertie and me, it was not at all like that. If I nibbled her hard little nipple, that seemed to be just what she wanted at just that moment. We just instinctively knew what the other person wanted, and we were both eager to do it, for our own pleasure, but also for the other's pleasure, too. Maybe for her pleasure more than mine. Anyway, we just did all the right things.
"I hadn't had any cunt for a couple of months. Usually, I wait till I get pretty horny, since it seems like such a hassle sometimes. And, while the girl you get into finally may be satisfying, still, she's not exactly what you wanted, so it is a limited satisfaction-though, I might add, a very necessary one. Without it--well, I'd rather not think about going without; that's a painful subject. People somehow go on the assumption that you lose your sexual desire as you get older. Maybe some men do, but I think that with most men, they have the same desires they always had-and they're just as strong and demanding as ever. It's just that it takes a lot of energy to go out and pick up a girl and go through all the routine of wining, dining, and then finally getting to bed. Besides, you don't have quite as much zip to attract the girls as you had when you were younger.
"Anyway, I was hot and ready. And Bertie seemed to stay hot and ready. I wanted to take my time with her, and hot and eager as she was, she seemed content to build up slow. When you just shove it in and fuck and let it go at that-well, I've done that a few times, too. And I don't knock it; sometimes a quickie can be great fun. But taking it slow and easy, you really build up to a peak that you had almost forgotten existed. It's worth all the effort, and it isn't really any effort. Half the fun is getting there.
"I lay half on top of her and kissed her once again. And nibbled and licked. My tongue flicked its way down to her nipples again, circling each one tenderly, then sucking the nipple into my mouth and really working on it. Then I worked down to her belly and tickled at her navel for a few minutes. Then I reversed my position so she could play a little, too. She grabbed my prick hungrily and started kissing it and licking it all over, up and down the shaft, till I thought I would shoot off in her face if she did it just once more. But she suddenly switched to my balls and sucked them, one after the other, into her mouth, getting them sloppy wet and tickling them with that evil little tongue of hers.
"I didn't just kneel there and luxuriate in the sensations; I was busy burying my face into her pubic hair and licking all around her crotch area. Her little clit was as hard as my prick, and I gave it everything I had. Kissing, sucking, licking, nipping at it lightly with my teeth. Every once in a while I would hear that purring moan of hers; a couple of times, though, I heard other moans, and I suddenly realized that it was me. I licked down around that sweet little cunt of hers-and was it ever sweet. A fresh young cunt somehow seems to exude juices, and an aroma, that seem to fade away with age. Maybe it's a hangover from our early animal heritage when the female in heat exuded a fragrance which aroused the male and made him wild to fuck. At least, that's what the odor and taste of fresh young cunt does for me-and for most men, I guess. I really lost all sense of what I was doing; I just buried myself in my work. And, from the sensations I was getting from her mouth and tongue, I could tell that she was in the same semiconscious state I was. Her first climax came while I had my tongue buried in her cunt, with my chin rubbing her clit.
"She grew even wilder and raised her legs up higher, and my tongue worked as hard and fast as it could, trying to prolong the orgasm and heighten the intensity of it. But I suddenly found myself at the peak, and I closed my eyes and ate furiously. The come juice seemed to take forever working its way up my, shaft--I was intensely aware of it-and it suddenly spurted forth into her mouth. At which point, she didn't pull back and choke, as some have done; instead, she plunged her head down and engulfed all of my prick. I could feel her teeth nibbling at the base, and the head of my prick was buried in her throat. She worked her throat muscles just as I came. There are just no words to describe the warm, agonizing pleasure of that moment. I sincerely believe that it was the most ecstatic orgasm I had ever had up to then. Since then, of course, we have repeated that intensity many times-not every time, but often enough that it has become almost commonplace, if such a sublime experience can ever be called commonplace.
"When it was over-and I hung in her mouth for what seemed a long time, until she was forced to move back in order to catch her breath-I collapsed on her, breathing and panting on her cunt. Then I pulled myself around and we lay in each other's arms for an hour
or more. We both dozed off briefly, only to awaken to the wonderful warmth of each other's bodies still wrapped in our arms. I kissed her now and then, a brief kiss on her ear, her cheek, her chin, her shoulder-whatever part of her was closest to my lips. And then I began to get a hard on again. And my kisses became wetter and more prolonged, and she reacted immediately. And soon we were starting all over again. The second time was not as intense as the first, but we still were feeling the glow of that first time, so it seemed just as beautiful. I licked at her cunt again and brought her to two orgasms before I finally turned around and slipped it in. What a hot, juicy, tight little cunt that was! She gasped as I pushed my rod in: not because it hurt, she was far too well lubricated for that, but because it reached parts of her that had hitherto been untouched during our session.
"Then I lay there on top of her with my prick in her cunt, just letting it soak for a while. The mouth has the advantage that the tongue moves around and causes all kinds of exciting sensations, but a tight cunt-warm and wet like hers-grips every inch of the prick, and it arouses exciting sensations all its own. Plus the fact that you can kiss each other at the same time and your hands can be busy playing with her breasts and watching her.
"At last I began to move back and forth slowly. No hurry: it felt too good to rush it. Just back and forth, a kind of around and around at the same time. When I felt her orgasm coming, the shivering and shaking of her cunt and pelvic area, I didn't increase my movements but just went at the same slow, agonizing pace. It was only when she was at the peak of the climax that I suddenly began to plunge in and out and in circular gyrations furiously. And, within seconds, I shot off into that soft warm wet pouch. My mouth was practically devouring hers at that point. And she came again, and one more time before I quieted down.
"We lay there for a while, me on top of her, not resting the full weight of my body on hers. That got a bit tiring, so I rolled over, pulling her on her side with me, slowly, making sure my prick stayed inside its newfound home. It wasn't fully hard, but it still hadn't gotten all the way soft yet, and it felt so good, just letting it soak in there. I suddenly thought maybe she should douche, but she assured me that she was pretty sure that nothing would happen. She kept good track of her days, and this just wasn't her fertile period. Even so, I was a little anxious. My second son arrived just that way, and you can never be absolutely sure when it comes to sex. But it just felt too damned good, so I really didn't give a damn at that point.
"After a while, after we'd dozed a little again-and sleep at that time is the best ever, it's all part of the dreamy, close wonderful feel of the overall situation-I finally moved my arm out from under her. It had gone to sleep from the pressure of her lovely body. I hated to move it, but I knew I was going to have to use it later when I drove her home.
" 'Bertie,' I said, 'you have made me the happiest man in the world. This has been the most wonderful time I've ever spent with anyone.'
"She didn't answer, but only kissed me affectionately on the mouth.
" 'I won't say any more,' I added. I wanted to say a lot of things, and just keep talking, and tell her all about how I felt toward her, how much I loved her and all, but I hesitated. After all, just because I'd fucked her didn't mean she was in love with me. I could tell she was happy, too, but it was the afterglow of a wonderful sexual encounter. It need not be anything deeper than that, and I still couldn't bring myself to say something that might be embarrassing to her. Sure, maybe she would say that she loved me, too; at a moment like that, you may actually feel that you are in love. But later, when you're yourself again, you think differently about it. But this had been an evening that I knew I would never forget for as long as I lived, and, as you can see, I haven't forgotten it. We've since had many similar sessions, but they all blend together in a sort of dreamy haze which has become the high point of my marriage with Bertie. The first time was somehow more memorable, probably because it was the first time.
"A little later, I got some coffee going, and we had snacks and coffee in bed. And then we got dressed and I took her home. I did push my luck a little by kissing her good-night, but it seemed to cap off the evening, and it didn't upset her....
"That all took place on a Saturday night. Ordinarily, I would call her on Sunday just to chat and ask how she was doing-nothing special. But the next day I didn't call. I stayed home all day and thought a lot about the night before and the situation, and how to handle it at work next day. 'Never mess around with a girl you work with.' How many times had I heard that admonition. But here I'd gone and done it. The next day she might well have had time to realize exactly what she had done and regretted it. She could be quite cool and distant; and that seemed---likely-but I somehow couldn't believe it of Bertie. I felt that she would be just as warm and friendly-on the surface-and any coolness would be down underneath where I could catch it, but no one else would.
"Bertie, after all, is a bright girl. Her emotions are in the right place. She isn't an immature girl who gets her kicks by creating scenes and ugly situations. My only desire at that point-all I could hope for-was that we would continue essentially the same as before. I desperately wanted at least to keep our friendly relationship. And I knew that if I took the wrong attitude, I would lose even that-and fast.
"Monday finally came, and I went to work. Bertie arrived a few minutes later. She smiled-I wish I could describe that smile. At once I knew that it was going to be all right. She sort of glowed and seemed very pleased to see me. And I relaxed right away-and then I goofed.
" 'How did your weekend go?' I asked, meaning, of course, how did you make out on Sunday? But then I realized as soon as I'd said it that sounded as if I were asking her how the lovemaking session had been. I coughed and
added, 'I mean to say, how did yesterday go for you?'
"She smiled delightfully and answered, 'I knew what you meant. Yesterday was okay--but I missed my usual phone call.'
" 'Well,' I hesitated, 'I thought maybe you'd want to be alone to think things over.'
" 'Was that really all?'
'"Yes. Really.'
" 'I'm glad. I'd hoped that was what it was. I know I'm not everything a man could want in a girl, but I had hoped that. . . well.... '
"She paused, and I rushed to assure her that she was indeed everything a man could want. And I added, finally, 'Bertie, I think you know that I love you.'
"She looked at me warmly, expectantly, and, thus encouraged, I went on. 'I have no right to ask you to marry me.'
" 'I think you have,' she answered.
" 'No. No, I haven't. I'm practically an old man, while you're ... you're ... well, you have so much of your life still ahead of you. It wouldn't be fair.'
" 'Fair? To you or me?'
" 'To you, of course. For me-oh, God. I don't deserve to be made that happy-no one does.'
" 'Are you asking me to marry you?' I wasn't
sure whether she was just playing with me, but I wanted her so desperately that, at that point, I didn't care if I did make a fool of myself.
" 'Yes, I am. I'm not young, but I can give you security of a sort-and I do love you very much."
" 'I thought men got down on their knees when they proposed marriage,' she teased.
" 'I will, if that's what you want.'
"But she rescued me from the misery I was beginning to feel. 'Oh, Frank, darling. Wait till tonight to get on your knees. I accept. Don't you know that I love you, too?'
"What a terrific feeling that is, to find that you weren't butting your head against a brick wall, that the one you love loves you in return. Life certainly has its ugly, tragic moments, but it has its wonderful, joyous moments, too. I didn't give a damn about anything or anyone but us at that moment, and I grabbed Bertie and crushed her in my arms and kissed her passionately. And, of course, at that moment, one of the aides had to walk in. He was startled, coughed, said loudly, 'Excuse me,. . . ' and then grinned lewdly.
" 'Bertie has just agreed to become my wife,' I told him, and his lewd grin turned into a proper sort of smile, though I think I detected a bit of envy there, too, for Bertie was easily the sexiest girl in the office. And before the day was out, we got congratulations from nearly everyone.
"But then the planning began. First, the wedding. I decided that Bertie would want a big church wedding ... but she didn't. She wanted a quiet affair with just a few friends. I was relieved at that-though I would willingly have gone along with a big blast. Anything, for Bertie. But Bertie is not only sexy and bright, she is also very sensible. But then came the part that I really feel was the masterstroke. I knew that if I tried to hang on too hard to Bertie, I'd end up losing her altogether. So I told her, over and over: 'Look,' I said. 'I know you're young and eager; you're going to need more excitement than I could ever give you; and you'll need a little variety now and then. I don't mind.'
"She tried to hush me up, but I insisted on finishing. 'Oh, Frank,' she said, reproachfully, 'I love you. I don't love anyone else; if I did, I'd have married him. I don't want anyone but you.'
" 'I know, Bertie. But this has nothing to do with love. It's a matter of physical needs, maybe psychological needs. I just want it understood that I'm not going to tie you down and try to keep you in a cage or something. I love you, I want you, I need you. But you're free to do what you feel like, okay?'
"I know a lot of people would consider me crazy. You latch onto a sexy little number like Bertie-and then tell her to go out and fuck with anybody she feels like. To many people this wouldn't matter. But, in my opinion, each couple has to make its own rules when it comes to marriage and sex and constancy, and all that. We usually see marriage as being a point where two people who have been playing the field suddenly have to give it all up and settle down to a dull, routine life. Well, if that's what you want, fine. I don't knock it. But different rules for different people. Sometime, maybe not right away, but sometime, Bertie would begin to feel the need for some excitement, for something different. I was just trying to let her know that I understood this, and that I was not going to get all upset and jealous and try to tie her down all the tighter because she strayed a little here and there.
"The important thing was that I loved her and that she loved me. And I didn't really see that anything she did would change that. It didn't mean that she loved me any the less just because she felt like having a strange prick in her cunt once in a while. And, actually, if anything, it has made our love more secure and brought us closer together. It's like when I get a young girl to work with as one of my cases. I work hard and I get very much wrapped up in her, trying to understand her and help her to cope with some of life's problems. Should Bertie get jealous just because I get so deeply involved? Of course not. It's just a human being that I'm trying to help. In the same way, it's just a prick that finds its way to Bertie's cunt now and then, and, at the moment it will concern her deeply--and hopefully give her a bit of excitement and a great deal of pleasure-but it means no more than that.
"But then I found that Bertie was going to add a twist of her own to the concept, as you'll see. For the first year or so, I'm sure nothing happened. The reason I'm sure is that Bertie would have told me if it had. Maybe not right away, but eventually. But after about eighteen months, I began to notice that Bertie was looking a bit pale and listless. At first, I thought maybe she was coming down with something. Our lovemaking was still great, but it had lost something. A certain zest or tang or something. It seemed to be getting almost routine. I decided to spark things up a little by trying a couple of new things, like fucking in the bathtub when it was full of water.
Something different, you know. And it helped, but it didn't solve the problem.
"At this time, Bertie was working again. She had stayed home for about ten months, but then decided she needed some outside stimulation, so she got the job I mentioned as a legal secretary. That helped some. And then, I found her talking about some young guy who came into the office quite a bit. She didn't say much about him, but I could see that she was attracted to him. He was in his twenties and overflowing with a zest for life. So, finally, one night when we were getting ready to go to sleep, after a sort of routine, somewhat less than average sexual session, we lay for a while with my arm under her shoulder, and I sort of stumbled around, not quite sure how to say what I wanted to. But I managed to get it across to her that she was free to play around if she wanted to.
"She protested violently, and she swore that she hadn't the slightest inclination. 'Okay,' I said, 'I understand. But I'm just saying that if you do feel any inclination, play it by ear. Don't feel that getting ahold of a young, strange guy and doing what you want with each other is going to make any difference in our relationship. You know what I mean?'
"She insisted that that was the farthest thing from her mind, but I could tell that the thought had crossed her mind before, and now she was beginning to think about it. Anyway, it was a couple of weeks later that she told me she was going out for a night with her girl friend. She and Carol went out together every so often, or just stayed home and yakked about things. There was something about her tone of voice-a little too intense or something-that kind of clued me in that this wasn't at all what she was going to do. And, after all my talk, I found that I was just a little bit jealous. But I quickly talked myself out of that. It meant no more, actually, than if she had been going out with Carol, except that it would probably be a lot more exciting and more fun.
"She came home around eleven and kissed me. I was sitting watching TV, and I was careful not to ask any leading questions. I appeared to be unconcerned. But, if I think I can read Bertie like a book, it works the other way around, too. Maybe there was a little edge to my voice or something. But she caught it right away.
" 'Is anything the matter?' she asked.
" 'Oh, no. Nothing at all.'
" 'You sure?' she insisted.
"Then we started talking, and she broke down and started crying and confessed that she had been out with the guy she had mentioned. Names don't matter. I held her in my arms, and I kissed her and told her how much I loved her, and she sobbed out how much she loved me, and that it didn't mean a thing, and so on. I knew that, of course, and I reassured her and told her that she shouldn't cry. Was it fun ? She then began to tell me the whole story.
"She had met him at a place they'd agreed on, and he took her to his apartment. Soft lights, soft music, cocktails. All the right touches. He had sat next to her, and his hand had brushed her skirt. In a little while, he kissed her, and they began to get more passionate. He was fairly young, but he was an accomplished lover. He took it fairly slow and easy, working his hand slowly up her thigh. He worked his finger in under her panties and finger-fucked her for a while, and then he suddenly unzipped his pants and thrust his prick into her hand. It wasn't as big as mine-and I couldn't help but get a secret charge from that. But it was nice and hard, and she got turned on playing with it while he finger-fucked her. Then, they undressed quickly. He didn't help her, and she didn't help him. They just got out of their own clothes as quickly as possible.
" 'I'll bet he came as soon as he saw your naked body,' I threw in, looking at her.
"'How did you know?' She smiled. 'Yes. that's exactly what he did. He shot all over my thighs. He couldn't help himself.'
"We both laughed, and then we both relaxed as if she were telling me some story about an exciting episode of the day-just something that happened that was kind of interesting. He was awfully embarrassed when he came all over her, but she told him it was all right. And in only a few minutes, he was raring to go again. He didn't go for sucking cunt, and Bertie seemed disappointed. She also wanted to suck his prick, but since he hadn't done it to her, she was a little embarrassed and thought he might think she was terrible or something. But he did suck her nipples and squeeze her breasts, and then he put his prick in her cunt and started fucking almost right away. She managed to come just as he did, but he seemed unable to hold himself back long enough to let her get in a good orgasm.
"All of this, of course, made me feel superior. It's not that she didn't enjoy it. She certainly did; she loved every minute of it. And the idea that she was doing something 'forbidden' added a tang to it. And he did have a way of moving his prick which is hard to describe; he would sort of rock back and forth from side to side while he was plunging in and out. She found that very stimulating, so I insisted that next time we got in bed, she'd have to teach me how to do it.
" 'Oh, it's nothing special,' she insisted.
"But I insisted more strongly that anything we could do together that would enhance our pleasure was worth a try. Anyway, she went on describing her affair, and by this time we were both relaxed and unembarrassed and having a drink and thoroughly enjoying the whole thing. After he came the second time, he pulled out almost right away and got a towel and they wiped themselves off. Then they started again. He would let her play with his prick, but she had the feeling he would have been horrified if she'd tried to kiss it. She fondled his balls, too. He had huge balls, she said. She doubted that she could have gotten them in her mouth-but it would have been fun trying. And when they kissed some more, he put his prick in again and fucked like crazy. They both came again, and the wiping-of f procedure was repeated, followed by another and another session. Altogether, he fucked her six times, which is pretty good, I'd say. Thaf s besides his first climax before he got in her.
'"It was fun,' she admitted, 'but I'm glad to be home.'
"She snuggled in my arms, and added, 'And I'll never do anything like that again.' " 'Why not?'
" 'Oh, Frank. You're awful,' she said, not really meaning it. 'You'd make a good pimp. I'll bet you'd send me out to pick up guys on the street.'
" 'Well,' I said, pretending to be serious, 'I'll bet we could make a lot of money that way. You certainly have the talent for it.'
"She slapped my face lightly, and I buried my mouth on hers. I didn't want to get too passionate, because I was sure she was in no mood for lovemaking that night. She had had more than enough. But I was wrong. That little episode had only served to turn her on, and after she showered, we jumped into bed and had one of the greatest sessions we'd had in a long time. I spent a lot of time sucking her cunt, since that was what she had missed earlier; and she lavished her full attention on sucking and licking my prick and my balls. And finally, after her fourth orgasm-good, full, wild climaxes-and my second, I turned around and worked my prick into that sweet crevice of hers, and she reluctantly taught me the little rocking trick that had turned her on. It turned her on again, and she had three orgasms before I finally couldn't hold back any longer. Then we fell asleep in each other's arms. I doubt that any two people could have felt closer to each other than we two did that night.
"Things went along at an even pace for a while after that. Our lovemaking was zippy and a lot like the first time, almost, for quite a while. Then it began to taper off again, and I could tell that she was beginning to need a little outside stimulus again. I wondered if maybe I should suggest it, but I decided to let matters take their course. And, sure enough, about a week later, she went to visit Carol again. She visited Carol about once a week, anyway, but she just couldn't lie to me, and I caught the tone in her voice that told me that she wouldn't be seeing Carol that night.
"Her return was later, this time. It was about midnight, and she seemed tired. I fixed drinks and she sat down and took off her shoes and relaxed. She didn't have as much trouble telling me this time.
" 'You know where I went tonight?'
" 'I suspected you weren't going to Carol's.'
"And then she told me how she'd met a fellow she ran into at the lunch counter where she usually had lunch. He was about twenty-five, and nice-looking. Strong and virile. He set up a double date with one of his buddies, but when the time came, the buddy's girl was hung up and couldn't make it-so the three of them went out. Bertie had never been in a three-way before, and she found it exciting as hell.
"Jack, her date, took them to his apartment and they sat around having a few drinks. Paul, the buddy, was of medium height, stocky build, dark hair. He was about twenty-five, also, and neither of them seemed quite sure how to start things going. So Bertie helped things along by taking off her shoes. Paul and Jack took off their jackets and their neckties. And then they sat as before. Finally, Bertie started caressing Jack's thigh, and he began to caress her breasts and started kissing her. Paul sat like a third wheel, feeling very uncomfortable but not sure what to do, so Bertie beckoned him to come sit on her other side, and while Jack kissed her lips, Paul played with her breasts. Then she reached out and grabbed both pricks through their pants. They didn't need much encouragement after that. Pretty soon all three of them were nude. Jack, for all his height and muscular build, didn't have a very big prick, but Paul surprised her. He was hung like a horse.
"They fucked on a fluffy throw rug in the living room. Jack was finger-fucking her while Paul sucked her nipples. It was Jack who worked his way down and put his prick in first. Despite its small size, it felt good inside her, and he was considerate and tried to make sure she came before he did. Meanwhile, she couldn't resist sucking Paul's mammoth prick into her mouth. She tried hard, but she couldn't get it all in. He shot off in her mouth and was apologetic as hell about it, figuring that she would be angry, but she reassured him.
"After they'd all come once, they sat around and relaxed for a while, having a couple more drinks. Then Jack started getting hard again, so Bertie sucked his prick into her mouth and he almost screamed when he finally came. Meanwhile, Paul pushed his big prick into her cunt with a remarkable gentleness. She was surprised that she could take it all, and she described it as feeling like he had his whole fist up inside of her. It took him a little while to come, but she got in two good orgasms before he made it. All the time, he sucked her nipples and kissed her cheek, but he avoided kissing her on the mouth, as if she were somehow contaminated because she had sucked their pricks.
"They rested again and had a few more drinks. The next time around, they took turns. Jack fucked her while Paul watched, and then Paul fucked her while Jack watched. And Bertie got one fairly good climax with each of them, but after they came, that was it for them. They were finished. After one more drink, Bertie washed up and they brought her close to home. She wouldn't let them drop her off in front of our apartment building. 'Too many nosy neighbors,' she told them. It was exciting; after all, it's not every day a girl gets involved in a three-way. But, once again, she was glad to be home, to be in my arms once again.
"We repeated our performance of the previous time. I worked long and hard at sucking and licking that sweet, fresh cunt of hers, since she'd gotten none of that from Jack and Paul. And our orgasms were created with love, which does make a difference.
"Well, this pattern went on for some time. About every two or three months, Bertie would begin to get a little irritable and listless, and we both knew it was 'her time.' Most of her encounters were nothing to write about. One of the fellows was kind of brutal, but most were gentle enough. I never had the slightest jealousy after that first time. Well, only once, and that didn't last long. Bertie had gotten to know a black man of about thirty who was nice looking and very neat in his appearance. Bertie's taffy-colored hair may have had something to do with it-though with a sexy body like hers, a guy would have to be dead not to get turned on. As one of my black kids told me once, 'If you're gonna fuck a white woman, you feel cheated if she doesn't have blonde hair.'
"Anyway, Ted was apparently a very sweet guy who took a lot of time and care in making sure that she got as much pleasure as possible. I think that's what made me jealous; I just hadn't expected any other man to feel for Bertie like I do. He took her to his apartment and they smoked a little grass and had a few drinks, and then he closed in, slowly and gently, caressing her with sensitive fingers till she was about to come just from the tactile sensation on her flesh-even though he hadn't gotten anywhere near her cunt, and they still had their clothes on.
"They undressed little by little, just a piece at a time, and Ted would work over the exposed area with a master touch before proceeding to the next article of clothing. He sucked her toes, which just about sent her up the wall. He tickled her armpits with his tongue and she gasped at the strange pleasurable sensation. He refrained from kissing her on the mouth-as if he were afraid she might be offended. But she pulled his face to hers and kissed and licked at his lips till his tongue answered hers. When they finally were completely nude, Ted carried her into the bedroom and, there, with soft lights and soft music, they got down to serious business.
"He began licking at her cunt, and he was crouched down between her legs so she could touch no part of him but his head and shoulders. She pulled at him and said, 'Give me some, too.'
"He turned around then, and she sucked his black prick into her mouth. She was a little embarrassed as she told me all this, because it had been such a great evening. And maybe because he was black. But her pleasure and excitement were so great-her eyes sparkled as she related her story-that they were infectious, and I began to glow with the feeling that she had really had a great time. And her pleasure was so important to me, even if it hadn't been me who gave it to her, that I relaxed and encouraged her to tell it all.
"It was Bertie's first bout with interracial sex-though not her last, I might add. And I also should point out that she never found another lover quite as competent as Ted, either. (I guess I'm still a bit jealous of that one.) Anyway, she lost count of the number of orgasms she had, and he came in her mouth twice, too. But they didn't stop; his prick would relax and shrink a little, but as she worked on it, licking and sucking, it gradually sprang up rigid again. And then she felt his tongue licking at her ass-hole. She hadn't been opposed to it, exactly, she just had never thought of her ass-hole as being in any way erotic. That is, not till Ted's tongue worked it over. She had another orgasm while he was doing that, and then-I had to drag this out of her, she didn't want to say it-she started licking at his ass-hole, and found that it wasn't so bad.
"He traveled all over her body once again with his tongue, and she licked every part of his body that came anywhere near her mouth. Then finally he put his black prick in her pink cunt and he worked in and out slowly and carefully-in just the way I did it. That's about the only way I can express it. She had several orgasms before he finally came again inside her. And then they lay together, as she and I often did, just luxuriating in the feeling of closeness and the satisfaction of a truly wonderful sexual session.
"It's hard to describe our night in bed after that. It was as if I had a different Bertie in bed that night. She just couldn't get enough. But I had learned a few new tricks, too, and in the nights that followed, believe me, we tried every one of them. I found myself trying desperately to compete with Ted, but Bertie-that wonderful girl-caught on, and she called a halt to it. 'Come on, baby,' she soothed me. 'You just relax, now, and do what you want, do your thing. You're the one I love-the only one. The only one I'll ever love. What you do is the greatest, and don't you ever forget it."
"Well, that helped. I realized suddenly that I had been afraid of losing Bertie to a master love-maker. But, while Ted was terrific, that wasn't enough for Bertie, and it never could be. She loved me-not Ted or any other man, no matter how good he was in bed. For we both realized that, while sex is certainly one of the most important aspects of a marriage, there are a lot of other aspects of equal importance.
"Bertie never saw Ted again. I felt a little guilty about that, since it had been a wild, memorable session, and I did truly want her to have pleasure. But she found other men. She didn't go out for about four months after Ted. But when she did, she surprised me by coming home early. She'd left at about seven, and was home by eight-thirty. I knew right away that she was up to something. And this is where she added her twist. A fellow and his wife were waiting downstairs in a car, and she wanted to bring them up for a four-way.
"I was reluctant at first. I just hadn't expected anything like that. But I finally agreed.
Chuck was a nice-looking fellow of about thirty, and he was friendly, and I liked him right away. Sue, his wife, was a little younger and very pretty. She was almost as sexy as Bertie-but, as far as I'm concerned, no one could ever match Bertie. Anyway, the party started off slow. We had a couple of drinks, and then Chuck brought out a couple of joints and we all began to get high. After that, what happened just seemed natural. We all took off our clothes and went in on the bed. Even with the drinks and the grass, I found it hard to get started with Sue, but she was a sweet girl and she seemed to understand my reluctance. She didn't rush me, but started to caress me and play with my prick, and she kissed me. I kept watching to see what Chuck and Bertie were doing. Finally we got into a wild sort of daisy chain where I was sucking Bertie's cunt, Sue was sucking my prick, Chuck was sucking Sue's cunt, and Bertie was sucking Chuck's prick. It was about the same size as mine, so neither of us had to worry on that score.
"Then we switched around, and I was sucking Sue's cunt while Bertie sucked my prick, and so on. We all came at least once; I shot off in Sue's mouth and Chuck let go in Bertie's. The girls were having numerous orgasms and I was really beginning to get with it. I fucked Sue-and she had a nice cunt. It was fatter than Bertie's, and also wasn't as tight, but it sure felt good when I got my prick in it. I found myself kissing Bertie while I fucked Sue. And Chuck and Sue were kissing, too. I felt good about that. I realized that here was a couple who lived by their own rules, the same as Bertie and I-and it was obvious that they were wildly in love with each other. That made it all seem okay, somehow.
"When we were all pretty much satiated, we sat around and had a few more drinks, and our nude bodies seemed the most natural thing in the world. I got to like Chuck and Sue-or Suck and Chew, as I slipped and said one time-and we all had a good laugh since it seemed to sum up so appropriately our daisy chain. We all became close friends after a while, and we often get together for a swinging session. By 'often,' I mean about once a month or so. They'd been married about ten years and had two kids. They were always very careful to make sure their kids weren't around when they had a swinging session. And they seem to be very good parents ... but then it seems to me that a happy parent is almost always a good parent. Oh, they're bound to make mistakesdon't all parents? But they love their kids, and, more important, they love each other.
"And now Bertie is pregnant. She's due at almost any time now, so we've curtailed our extracurricular activities altogether. I sometimes think a woman is never more beautiful than when she's pregnant. That is, if she is loved and is in love, and is happy to be having the baby. Yes, it's my baby; we double-checked on that. This will bring about a big change in our lives. At least, for a while. But once Bertie is in shape again-a couple of months, maybe-we plan to take up with Chuck and Sue again. We'll have to be a little more discreet, especially when the baby begins to grow up. Kids don't miss much. They may appear to be blind to all sorts of things-but they can be sharp as hell and act as if they haven't seen a thing.
"I'm sixty-three now, and I haven't noticed any lessening of my sexual powers as yet. But with a wife like Bertie, I plan to stay young forever. I've already got three sons, as I mentioned, so I hope our baby will be a girl. And I hope she looks just like Bertie. She'll sure as hell make some boy happy as can be in a few years. Boy, hell! Maybe she'll make some 'old man' happy. I wouldn't put it past her."
CHAPTER FOUR
The Girl from Mexico
"If anyone had told me a few years back that I'd wind up, in my fifties, married to a kid not yet twenty, I'd have laughed myself sick. Because, you see, till then I'd never fooled around, never even looked to have an affair. Don't get me wrong. I'm not paralyzed from the waist down. I've been known to stare at a good-looking young waitress in a restaurant, and once in a while I even developed a hard on just sitting in my office and watching the cute girls in the typing pool. I mean a man'd have to be dead not to react to a lovely pair of legs in a miniskirt, a beautiful pair of breasts and some good perfume.
"But that didn't make me a rake. That didn't mean I was out getting laid night after night like some guys I know. In any big office like mine where there are lots of middle-aged executives who can make up good excuses for their fooling around-'Honey, I got a late meeting of the department staff tonight,' or 'There's a new client in from Minneapolis, so I won't get back till midnight.' Man, they really fool around. I know two guys pretty high up in sales who screw everything that moves in the office. They spend a fortune trying to lay young pussy. But like I said I was not in that category. I was married to a very nice woman a couple of years younger than I. I had met Maureen in college, and we were married a month after we graduated.
"Along the way there were three kids, several houses, and some interesting trips. We went to Hawaii and Mexico, and even once all the way to Europe. I like traveling very much and so did Maureen, and we just packed up the kids and went. I was doing well in the job department too. The raises came regularly, and the promotions. All in all, I had nothing to kick about. We had a good marriage, and if my sex life wasn't perfect, it was close enough to suit me.
"I liked sex and lots of it. In the beginning, when Maureen and I were first married, we went to bed every night. It was almost automatic. We'd get into bed and listen to our favorite radio shows ... the comedy hours, or sometimes dramatic shows ... and, before long, my hand would stray over to her breasts and play with her nipples. Then her fingers would move over to my cock, and it would nearly jump out of my pajama bottoms. After ten minutes of fooling around, her pussy would feel like a sponge that had soaked up warm water, and I knew she was aching to get laid.
"Five minutes more and I'd have my cock inside her, and she would be moaning so loud, she drowned out the radio comics entirely. The sex was hot and sweet in those days, and I couldn't wait to get home from the office. In fact, I used to think about it a lot during the day.
"Maureen had a gorgeous body-long shapely legs, and a beautiful can. I'd have daydreams of how great she looked in the nude, and I'd keep staring at the clock, hoping it would get on to five-thirty so I could shoot on home and get into her.
"Well, this lasted till we had the third kid. After that, we slowed down a great deal. She was busy with raising children, and she was also a little apprehensive about getting pregnant again, I guess. We had sex less often, which annoyed me, but she was busy as hell and I could understand it. And she was understanding about my needs too. Many times, she forced herself to have intercourse when I knew she was aching to go to sleep after a long day.
"It got worse as the kids and both of us grew older. I'd work out in a gym regularly, and I'd feel in great shape. My sex needs continued to be pretty high. I needed sex less than when I was married, maybe, but I still wanted it. Maureen, though, began to shy away from it. She'd turn her back on me at times and pretend to be asleep. Or she'd spread her thighs quickly, let me get in, and then do nothing. It'd be embarrassing as hell for me. I'd have to beg my own wife to move her body against mine!
"And there were other things. She had begun to put on too much weight and, looking at her big fat, flabby thighs, I'd be turned off a little sexually. When I turned her over on her stomach, her can would show a lot of ugly folds, and discoloration marks soon appeared on her legs. Worst of all, her breasts grew flabby, and this really disturbed me. I like firm breasts. I love to feel them, to suck them, look at them, before I make any attempts to get into a woman's pussy.
"As Maureen got into her forties and fifties, her breasts grew baggier and baggier and her pussy got terribly loose. We began to have more fights, and, since my new job demanded more and more travel, we had long separations. Well, after a while I began to get concerned about this, and I consulted our doctor. I told him our sex life was shot and our emotional relations were not much better. He suggested a long trip to Hawaii where we could flake out on some lovely beach, have all the romance and good food and drink we wanted, and no pressures.
"Well, I took his advice. We holed up in a gorgeous hotel on the beach at Waikiki. We ate well, we drank well. But the sex was out the window. No matter what I did, she was not in a cooperative mood. I'd play with her breasts, and she'd move to turn on the television. Or she'd suggest a drink. If I did something really bold, like reaching with my hand between her thighs under her skirt, she'd panic, tell me she wasn't feeling well.
"Well, after a while I began to get annoyed, and one night, I pulled her skirt off, ripped her panties off her legs, and went down on her pussy. I wanted to rouse the devil in her, you see, to get her pussy so hot she'd be dying to get my cock in it. No dice. She looked at me coldly and then closed her eyes in a kind of unvoiced disgust. Then she said:
" 'You've never done that to me, Oscar. ... Not once in thirty years. And I am not about to let you start now. I have no interest in perversions. Please get your mouth away from there. Right now.'
"I got up, absolutely stunned. I couldn't believe my ears. I had expected her to love being sucked that way, after so much lukewarm sex. Instead, she squirmed to get her pussy away from my lips. Suddenly I became uncontrollably angry.
" 'I'm trying to get us back on the track of being bed partners, for Christ's sake. I'm trying to work you up to some decent response. What the hell are you acting like Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm for? You've heard of people getting sucked off. All our friends probably do it regularly.'
" 'Not me,' she retorted. 'I'm not interested in such filth. And as far as our relations are concerned, I think we're too old to experiment. I have to admit to you that I'm not as interested in sex as I used to be. And frankly I'm surprised that you are. We're too old. And I think it's insane to pretend we're a couple of kids, going at it hot and heavy. I just don't want it that much.'
" 'Well, I do,' I yelled. 'I don't give a damn how old I am. Nobody's going to put me on a social security cycle where screwing's concerned. I like fucking and I like sucking, and I'll do it as often as I like. Now get your little ass back here fast.'
" 'No,' she said stubbornly. 'And stop talking to me like that. I don't like your language either. You sound like some kid yelling in a gutter.'
" 'I'll use any fucking language I want,' I yelled, infuriated. 'Now get your goddamned cunt over here or I'll paddle your ass till it glows like a fucking strawberry. Get over here! I want you to suck me while I suck you. I want us to go off together.'
" 'No! I won't do it, you dirty old goat. I think you're disgusting. Act your age, for God's sake!' With that, she flounced out of the room and refused to speak to me the rest of the day.
"That was the beginning of the end. We hardly communicated during the remainder of the trip, and when we got home we agreed quietly to a divorce. It wasn't easy to leave a marriage after living with it and in it so long. It was like leaving a comfortable, warm house to camp out on a cold, open lot, beaten by strong winds. I felt terribly lonely. I was unable to sleep nights, and many times I was on the verge of picking up the phone and begging
Myra to take me back. To take me on any terms.
"But I didn't do it, because I knew I wouldn't be able to hack it. like it or not, I was a sexual animal. I liked making love to women in a variety of ways, and I knew I could not stomach living a platonic life-style with a toss in the hay on anniversaries and birthdays. To get away from my temptations to crawl back and from my own thoughts, I took leave from my office and went to Mexico.
"I liked Mexico because the pace of life slowed down to where you could reflect and enjoy life without feeling the pressures. And yet it was not dull. The place was beautiful-especially in Mazatlan, where I had been before. The people were very friendly and undemanding, and the girls were beautiful. Even more important to me at that moment, they were seemingly oblivious to age differences.
"In the States I was made newly aware of my age when young girls stared at me as if I were a window. There is a kind of gaze girls give you, at such times, that makes you feel terribly middle-aged. I used to hate it. I still hate it, in fact. And the fact that I never got it in Mexico always endeared the place to me. I felt somehow younger, more masculine, in any Mexican town. In New York, Chicago, or Los
Angeles, the way an eighteen-year-old girl looked me over always made me feel as if I had no balls, and that fucking her was a fantasy that could never be realized. In contrast a girl the same age, or even younger, in Mazatlan, Guadalajara, Mexico City, or Acapulco could give me a hard on just by looking at me quietly. I could almost feel her pussy getting moist as she stared, and sometimes I'd get a hard on an hour later, remembering how she walked, how her cute little ass bounced along in the sun.
"Call it machismo or whatever you like, but it worked. And it worked again now. But there was a change in me. On earlier trips I had always come with my wife, or I had been on a fast business trip. I had done nothing out of line. Once or twice I had been sorely tempted to sleep with a cute girl, but I had avoided it out of a sense of loyalty to Myra that I had never fully explained to myself. Or put it down to the fact that I felt very married, and worried lest I be caught either by my wife or an accompanying business associate.
"Now I no longer gave a damn. I reveled in the fact that I could do whatever I damned well pleased. I began to stare hungrily at the beautiful teen-aged girls, admiring their brown naked thighs as they pumped their bicycle pedals on the busy streets, staring at bikini-clad beauties on the beach, looking at girls with pretty bosoms in the shops. I walked around like a glutton until one day I met Anna, a gorgeous little brunette about eighteen.
"I met her on the beach near my hotel one afternoon, soon after I emerged from the surf. She was sketching the beautiful landscape on a pad with watercolors and she was an accomplished artist. I had seen her in the lobby of my hotel and I went over to talk to her.
"It turned out that she was the daughter of a wealthy automobile distributor in Mexico City and had come here to convalesce after a bout with pneumonia caught while skiing in the United States. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. About five feet, five inches of sheer loveliness. She had large, dark eyes, a skin that was almost a pale white, large, firm breasts that shook when she laughed, and a pair of legs that drew male stares all over the beach.
"That night I took her out to dinner and some night spots, and when we came back I kissed her very warmly at her door. Without a word, she opened it and stood aside for me to enter. Until that moment all I had felt was a kind of puppy-like gratitude at being stroked and petted while I felt lonely. We had danced and talked for hours about the States, about movies we both liked, about sports, and about traveling. Incredibly, I felt as if I had known her for years, and, just as unbelievingly, I felt no age gap. True, I was over fifty, and she was young enough to be my daughter, but I did not feel it.
"Still, till now I had never intended to make a pass-never thought I'd even have a chance of laying her. Once I was in her room, all this changed in a flash and suddenly I became very nervous. I could tell, from the way she looked at me, that she wanted me to make love to her. It was nothing she said. It was more the way her silences fell between her words, the way she averted her eyes from mine, the uneasiness in her pretty dark eyes. ... Anyway, I was even more nervous because I had never been with a girl that young. Not since I was married.
"When I kissed her impulsively five minutes later, she clung to me, and my hands moved over her full, lush breast. I felt so hot I could barely stand it. I could feel my cock getting hard, and I wanted to lay her in the worst way. At the same time, something inside me made me hold back. She caught that feeling, as if by osmosis. She said nothing but her hand strayed over to my cock. She cupped her hand over it on the outside of my pants and squeezed.
"Her action released me from whatever was holding me back. I reached over and plunged my hand into the cleavage of her dress. Her breasts were the firmest I had ever felt. The skin was so smooth, by comparison to Myra's that I could hardly believe they were the same sex. Then I pulled out each breast, and began to suck it, letting my tongue linger affectionately over each strawberry-like nipple. I heard her moan.
" 'Ah, that feels good,' Anna said. 'Don't stop, darling. Please don't stop.'
"I saw her body move around on the couch as my sucking got to her. There was a moment then when my own sexual excitement mushroomed. As I licked her beautiful breasts, I saw her kick her legs up into the air. I caught a dazzling flash of white thighs just above the stocking line, as her miniskirt flew up above her hips. All of a sudden I had an enormous desire to go down on her. The sight of those plump white thighs, with the wisp of nylon panties caught between them, was more than I could resist. I left her breasts and, kneeling on the floor beside her legs, buried my head between them.
"She did not resist. If anything, she was delighted at my passionate move. I could hear her laugh as my head moved down between her thighs. The smell of her underwear was the most exquisite I had ever known. Myra was strictly a soap-and-water girl who occasionally dabbled some Chanel No. 5 behind her ears before we went to a party. Not Anna. She reveled in perfume, and doused herself with it in great gobs.
" 'I love the smell of you between your thighs,' I told her, feeling foolishly happy, not caring what I said.
" 'So I see,' she laughed. 'I sprayed myself down there after my bath because I hoped you would find your way there. You like what you see?'
" 'Hmm. Gorgeous. If I hadn't had dinner already, I'd eat your lovely pussy in a minute.'
'"How about a second dessert then?' She laughed.
" 'You got a deal,' I yelled. And promptly began to eat her lovely little pussy, pushing back the crotch-piece of her panties. Her cunt was a narrow, tight little thing, with a delicious array of ebony-colored curly hair, and it too reeked of French perfume. But this time, the scent was mixed with the natural aroma of her young cunt, and the combination was like catnip to me. I pushed my head between her luscious young thighs and licked her cunt. I was so hungry for it that I didn't even stop to catch my breath. She squeezed her thighs hard, placing my head in a kind of human vise that made the experience all the more pleasurable.
"Suddenly, after a moment of furious licking, I heard her yell out loud. She was coming, and she pushing her cunt deeper into my face, smearing my face with the moisture of her hot, sweet pussy. Even now, retelling it, I can get very excited. But at that time it was so strong that I came with her. Her own excitement had triggered my own and caused it to peak.
"It was wonderful, but an hour after it, as J. lay in my own bed, I felt a terrible letdown. I heard my wife's words again, calling me a 'dirty old goat,' telling me to act my age. What the hell had prompted me to do what I had just done? I liked Anna enormously. We had spent a wonderful day at the beach. Then I acted just like some drunken kid who had to eat her just to prove something. It wasn't the act of a rational man.
"I had breakfast alone the next morning, forgetting our date, and then left with a hurried note to her in which I apologized for what had occurred. I told her that she was a wonderful girl, physically and intellectually, and that she deserved someone better than an old man. I left on the next plane to the States.
"Almost from the beginning I had doubts about what I had done. I could not get Anna out of my mind. No matter what I was doing, my thoughts would return to her. But I curbed an impulse to write to her. The main reason was that I really felt sexually inadequate for her. She was a beautiful, vigorous young girl, who would want a lot of strong sex. What could I give her? I thought of myself as a man on the borderline of old age, and I had a terrible vision of her being sexually frustrated because I couldn't come through. Over and over again my wife's words came back to me. I was 'too old' to experiment, to be very sexual.
"Besides, I told myself, May-December marriages were all doomed to failure. Why would an athletic, hot-blooded young girl stay with a man that much older? I tried to put her out of my mind entirely, and I might have succeeded except for George. George was a man in the accounting office of my firm who intrigued everybody, because at the age of 54 he had married a girl of twenty and seemed perfectly happy. I could not believe it, but I had to see for myself. I made his acquaintance and took him out to lunch. After a couple of stiff double martinis, I told him about my sexual fears regarding Anna. And not only sexual.
I was worried about the entire marriage.
" 'Look, Oscar ... just between us, my wife and I get along fine in bed and in every other way. You're just creating anxieties for yourself. If you love each other, it'll work out.' When I shook my head, he invited me to have dinner at their house and see how wonderfully easygoing the whole relationship was, how free of tension. I accepted reluctantly, finally, thinking that if I noted the inevitable strain between them, I'd be surer of the Tightness of my own decision about Anna.
"Within an hour of the time I arrived, I knew I was wrong. They got along very well--so well that I became suspicious. Were they putting on some show for me, perhaps? It seemed impossible that a twenty-year-old beauty like Sally should go so heavily for an old-timer like George. I kept wondering about their sex life and wishing I could see if that worked too. I felt a strong curiosity about that side of their union.
"I got my chance later in the evening. After a long session of drinking, I pretended to be too drunk to drive, and asked if it would trouble them too much if I sacked out on their couch. They laughed and told me they had a spare bedroom. About an hour later, I got up and tiptoed to their room and peeked through the keyhole. The first thing I saw was Sally's breasts. They were lovely, pear-shaped breasts, tipped with thick brown nipples. Then my eyes moved to her crotch. Her cunt was framed with masses of dirty blonde hair. A minute later George came into view; his cock was flabby looking, but a little later I saw Sally kneel before it and put it into her mouth.
"George moaned aloud, and a few seconds later pulled his cock out stiff.
" 'Not too much, baby,' he said. 'You know you can make me come easy that way, but I need a little fucking first. I want to see this move around in your lovely little snatch.'
"They got on the bed, and George began to kiss his young beautiful wife's pink ass, letting his tongue move around her big plump cheeks and ass-hole until she groaned with pleasure. Then he moved his tongue down to her cunt and nibbled at that until she begged him to stop.
"George laughed and, putting a pillow under her stomach, positioned her thighs so that her cunt faced his cock from the rear. I could see his stiff cock moving in and out of her lovely snatch, while his hands manipulated her gorgeous, firm breasts. She was obviously enjoying it very much. Over and over again, he asked her if she was really enjoying his cock, and she immediately reassured him.
"The sight of her trembling ass, quivering under the pile-driving force of his big red cock, got me so excited that I found myself playing with my cock. I had a flash of myself in bed with Anna and could almost experience physically how her lovely cunt would feel around my dick. A minute later, as George continued to ram his cock home between his wife's thighs, I felt the semen trickling down my leg, and I returned to my room.
"That night I could not sleep again. I dozed off for an hour or so, during which I dreamed of being with Anna in Mexico, of making love to her, of living together in the same easygoing way as George and Sally. It would be a good young-old marriage, just like theirs. I would call her tomorrow....
"I had a few seconds of doubt in the morning, but the memory of last night, watching George's success in laying his girl-wife, made up my mind for me. I sent Anna a telegram, telling her I loved her, and asking her to telephone me if she accepted me. If she didn't, she was simply to ignore the wire. I told her I would be home all night the next evening.
"I nearly went out of my mind getting through that day and the next, but when she called from Mexico City at eight the following day I was overjoyed. She had been delighted to hear from me, and wanted to be my wife. Could we be married in Mexico for her parents' sake? If not, she would fly up to where I lived.
"I told her immediately that we could be wed there and then spend our honeymoon in Acapulco. I was so excited I could hardly breathe. I told her I would fly down at the end of the week and take another week off. At the end of the call I was so nervous and peaked that I could hardly sit still. And that night I could not sleep again. I had a terrible dream in which my ex-wife kept hammering at me that I was an old man, that I would bore Anna, that no matter how hard I tried, I would leave her unsatisfied, and that she would walk out on me.
"The rest of the week was a nightmare. Several times I almost canceled the wedding, but the reluctance to hurt Anna stopped me. Win or lose, I was in it up to my neck now. I had a hideous fear that I would not be able to function in the bedroom at Acapulco, and that she would slam the door in my face. But at the end of the week I took the plane to Mexico City. In twenty-four hours I would see if I were right....
"The wedding ceremony must have been very beautiful. I say must have been, because I was in no mood to notice it very much. I was extremely nervous during every minute of it. For one thing, I was painfully aware of the more than thirty years' age difference between Anna and myself. When I met her father and mother I swallowed hard when I realized that I was older than either of them. Her cousins and friends all looked like babies to me. I felt very old and decrepit by comparison.
"I had a feeling that they were all watching me and pitying Anna, thinking that she had locked herself into a lifetime of misery with an old geezer that couldn't get it up. Once or twice I even imagined that some of her middle-aged uncles were casting glances at my crotch to see if I even had a cock to start with. The result was that I sat or stood through the whole thing in utmost depression, wondering if I'd ever get through the first night.
"She looked beautiful. There was no doubt about that, and I wanted her. What bothered me was my own self-doubt. And a few times during the big noisy reception I wanted to bolt, to tell her I was sick. She reassured me by kissing me several times, and once she leaned over toward me when I was with her and we were swamped with wedding guests and she let her fingers squeeze my cock playfully. It should have made me feel better, but it didn't.
"In my lousy frame of mind, all I could think was that she was trying to see if I still had anything there for her to use later. I tried to get her away from there soon after the ceremony, but we were compelled to respond to toast after toast for hours afterwards. It was not until close to six o'clock that we got to the airport to get our plane to Acapulco.
"I said very little in the plane, which worried her a little, but not as much as my behavior in the hotel room. There I pretended I was sleepy and lay on the bed in my new wedding suit, trying to pretend that I was too tired to even undress. I acted as if sex was impossible in my condition, reasoning to myself that if I could postpone the whole thing a full day, I'd be in better shape tomorrow to make love. But she had no intention of allowing me to do that.
"I was trying to act like an old man, but she refused to accept it. A few minutes after I closed my eyes, I felt her fingers creeping up the sides of my legs, slowly, until she reached my crotch. I trembled slightly, but did not move. Then as I wondered what she would do next, I felt my fly being unzipped. Anna's small, thin hand plunged into my fly, and beyond it into the opening of my shorts. She moved her fingers slowly around my still-flabby cock. She spoke to it.
" 'Come on, Oscar baby,' she whispered. 'Stand yourself upright. I know you can do it. I've seen you do it.'
" 'I'm tired, honey,' I said in a hoarse voice, trying to make myself sound almost at the end of my tether. I heard her laugh as she squeezed my cock playfully.
" 'Stand up, baby, or I'm going to bite it off. I mean it. I want to make love.'
"A second later she had put her mouth on my cock and was sucking it. Gently at first, letting her tongue move sinuously around its sides and then concentrating with the tip of her tongue on the circumcised head. I loved the wonderful sensation, but I had drunk too much wine at the reception and it had depressed me more than I had thought. I was still afraid of laying her.
" 'Look at me, darling,' she said suddenly. Slowly she began to strip, taking off each layer of clothing like a dancer who was going through the Dance of the Seven Veils. I saw each breast emerge, and then the soft roundness of her belly, and finally the thick black bush of her cunt. I felt my cock stiffening as
I saw her lie on the bed and spread her gorgeous, buxom thighs. The vermilion slit of her cunt was so beautiful to look at that I came wide awake.
"I began to strip, shucking off my shoes, tie, shirt, socks and underwear, till I was as naked as she was. Then she placed a pillow under her ass and, lifting her long tanned thighs and legs, hooked her feet on to my shoulders. I loved the picture she showed then. A beautiful little girl teasing an older man with her fruity, teen-aged cunt. The kind of thing I had dreamed of so long. Slowly I put my forefinger into the tight, narrow slit of her cunt and marveled at both its taut quality and its warmth. Her cunt felt just then as if I had plunged my finger into a furnace. She was hot. There was no doubt of it.
"But I was still fighting my old self-doubt. I was filled with fear that I couldn't cut the mustard. What if I tried to lay her and came in two minutes? I thought. Two minutes in that hot pussy would be all I needed to blow the whole honeymoon. I decided instead to make my young wife come with my tongue.
"Leaning over her, I flattened her on the bed and spread her legs wide. For a minute I stared reverently at my wife's luscious young pussy. Her lips down there were already covered by a kind of pearly dew that was coming from inside her in her excitement. Her thighs, long and tanned, had their baby fat still on them. But she was not fat, just plump in a very pleasing way. And in between the thighs was a thick luxuriant bush of hair that smelled beautifully of her cunt and the scents she used on it.
"I put my mouth between her thighs, and for a moment reveled in the feeling of security it had given me. It was as if my head were being cushioned by two very comfortable pillows. She laughed as she felt my tongue scour her cunt and pulled my head in closer. For a moment I moved my tongue up and down over the pinkish lips. Then I moved the tip inside and located her clitoris, a stiff little button that I had not noticed in my earlier sucking of her pussy.
" 'Oh, darling,' she moaned. 'That's gorgeous. Wonderful. Your tongue is driving me right out of my mind. Oh! Oh! Oh! this is beautiful ... beautiful. Now, come inside me. Put your big thing inside me, dearest.'
"But I wasn't listening. I was still too nervous about what would happen if I tried to fuck her. Instead I pushed my mouth further up her thighs and started to lick first her bush and then her navel. I was going to give her a good time, but not with my cock. With my tongue. I would tongue-fuck her until she came and then we would go to sleep. Tomorrow could take care of itself.
"I glued my lips to her pussy and continued to lick it furiously. For a moment she lay there, her elbows supporting her weight as she rotated her supple hips to present different sides of her pussy to my lips. Then she began to heave her pussy at me in lunges as she became more and more excited by what was going on between her legs.
"For God's sakes, Anna, come! I said to myself silently. Let it out! I prayed inwardly that my cunt-lapping would finally push her to the brink of orgasm and over. But she had an amazing threshold of pleasure. She was close. I knew that. I could tell it as her breathing came harder and faster. But she had no orgasm.
"In desperation, I turned my wife over and began to lick her buttocks, letting my saliva dribble down each mound. I heard her moan with pleasure, and then I zoomed in on her ass-hole. The little pink bud between her white ass cheeks, where the sun had not done its work, stood out clearly as I separated the hill-locks of young flesh with my hands. I applied my tongue to her opening and licked with all the strength I had, burrowing into her.
"'Oh! Oh! Oh!' she yelled as my tongue entered the tight ass-hole. 'Aye, aye, aye! Aaaaaaaaaaaaah ... oooh ... aaaaaaahhhhhh ... aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh ... Oscar, no more, no more. I cannot take much more of this.... '
"But I continued to suck there, playing with her bud, moving my lips up and down, over her ass-hole and then further over her cunt from the rear. In another moment I had brought her to the brink, and she was thrashing under my face. Her pink ass was bobbing up and down and she was moaning. In the mirror on the bureau opposite the bed, her face seized my attention as it became convulsed. When I came up for air a few seconds, holding her ass down with my hands, I could see that her long black hair was in wild disarray and her eyes looked wild and dispirited. ... The sight of her face and her breasts and her whole naked body was very exciting to me. As I buried my face between her thighs, I peeked up over the hills of her ass and saw my head between her cheeks in the mirror.
"At that instant, seeing my own head between the beautiful ass cheeks of my eighteen-year-old bride, I almost shot my own load. I had never been so sexually aroused in my whole life. But I held back because I had to satisfy
Anna. I had to somehow give her the pleasure she so richly deserved on her wedding night. I had no right to think of myself. But I had reckoned without Anna. For a few minutes more she withstood the tantalizing effects of my moving tongue. Then she fought to get away from me.
" 'No, darling. Enough sucking. I love it very much, but I want you inside me. Please. Now! Now! I can't take any more of the other. Please put your thing ... how do you call it in English?'
" 'Cock,' I said. 'Just a little longer.'
"If I could make her come, I thought, it would be over, and I would not be forced to put my old man's cock to the test. I continued to lick the slippery lips of her cunt with all my might, mouthing her dark crotch voraciously until the intense sensation she felt made her yell. For a moment I thought they would hear us down the hall and think I was beating her. I stopped for a second to let us both breathe and then went back to the fight, determined to win.
" 'No, please, Oscar. No more. This is not what I wanted on my first night. Not just this alone. I wanted to feel your big, hard cock inside me, filling me. Making babies for us. I want to have your babies. Just licking me down there will not do it for us. You know that.'
"Her remark about babies made me even more worried. I almost stopped because of my fears that I might not be able to impregnate her. But I stubbornly pushed it out of my mind. Right now I had the duty, the obligation of bringing her to the point of orgasm. I would think about the other thing later. I returned to licking her ass and then moved down to her cunt again as she buried her face in the pillow. I could hear her yelling at me to stop, but I refused. In my state of excitement, whipped up by the taste of her lovely skin, the strong, sweaty scent filling my nostrils as I burrowed my nose deep into her pussy from the rear, I was almost berserk with a sex fever I could not control.
"Finally my sucking was too much for her. She could no longer hold back from her orgasm. I knew when it came because her cunt suddenly pressed hard against my face, her squishy pussy, wet with its own juice, filled my mouth, and I found myself lapping it up in great gobs.
"A moment later, I turned her around and pressed her close to me. I was amazed to find that she was trembling. At first I thought it was just the aftermath of the sex we had had. It must have been overwhelming for her. How many eighteen-year-old girls had a man licking their cunts and ass-holes for twenty intense moments as Anna had? But I was wrong. She was trembling from frustration and anger.
" 'You bastard!' she screamed, over and over again. 'Is that all you can do? Is that all you're capable of? If that's all I wanted, I could have remained single. I had that done to me when I was twelve! I think you're disgusting!'
"'No, listen, darling,' I began, 'you don't understand. It's not what you think at all. I wanted to-'
" 'You wanted to lick a young girl's privates! You're just like all those dirty old men who used to look between my legs. Is that why you married me? Just to lick me there?'
"In her fury and chagrin she began to sob now, and I held her closer,. trying vainly to calm her down. It took a long time, because she was so outraged by what had just happened. Finally, she quieted down and told me the story of how an older man had attacked her when she was younger.
"Shortly after she reached her twelfth birthday, her parents had taken her to Acapulco. They had stayed at the home of a family that had gone to Europe, a beautiful house near the beach. One night her parents had decided to go to a party and had left Anna, an only child, with a housemaid as a baby-sitter. The woman, about twenty-five, was a pretty girl with a good sense of humor and got along fine with everyone. Anna had noticed that she liked to drink beer a good deal but she had never done anything to complain about.
"But that night, as soon as Anna's parents had gone, she began to drink a lot, and, about an hour later, a man of about fifty had come to the house. Anna remembers him as a heavy-set man, with a moustache and large dark eyes that seemed to bore through her. She remained with them for an hour, watching television, and then had gone to bed. About an hour later, she was awakened by the sound of loud, drunken laughter, and came to the door of the living room to look.
"She saw the maid lying on the couch with her skirts way up and her big, meaty thighs spread. In her pussy was a peeled banana, and the man was on his knees eating it. The closer he got to the end of the half-eaten fruit, the greater was the girl's laughter.
"Finally, the man got down to the woman's cunt and began to lick it ravenously, pausing every minute to tell her how wonderful it tasted with the banana flavor on it. Needless to say they were both roaring drunk and having a great time. But Anna had never seen anything like this, had never even dreamed people did anything of this sort. As she stared, the maid kept yelling: 'Aaaaaah ... aaahhhhh ... aaahhhhhh ... ooooooh ... aahhh!' and the man kept telling her that he adored sucking young girls' cunts, that they smelled and tasted differently, and that he thought the most delicious must be a really young girl who had just reached puberty, whose pussy was very tight, with just a wisp of hair around it.
"Then suddenly, the maid caught sight of Anna standing there in her nightgown and started to laugh out loud.
" 'You mean somebody like her, don't you?' she said, with a loud, braying, coarse laugh. 'I'll bet she's got about three hairs on her hole. Why don't you try her?'
"The man turned around and the first thing Anna recalls seeing was his stiff cock which was exposed and the wild look in his eyes. He slapped his thigh gleefully and said: 'She'd be marvelous to suck. Come here, baby. Pepe'll show you a lovely trick you never had before. A trick that'll be a lot of fun.'
" 'Before I could move ... I was stunned ... he came over and grabbed me and put me down on the floor,' Anna remembered. 'Then the maid held down my arms while he spread my legs, tossed up my nightie, and put his face between my thighs. I still remember the feel of his wiry moustache between my thighs and the way his mouth felt when he kissed me down there. I was terrified.'
"Anna had to remain still while the man moved his lips over her crotch, sucking at her inner thighs and then at her tiny slit, and then they had turned her over and he had licked her ass-hole and the back of her cunt. She had been so terrified of her parents' reaction that she never mentioned the incident. But for years afterwards she was very sensitive to older men's gazes in her direction. Quite often she would be aware of old men as they stared between her legs when she sat in a living or a reception room. Their eyes seemed to boggle as they stared as deeply as possible between her thighs.
"She was sure they were thinking of what her pussy looked like, how big her bush was, and how they would like to get their mouth on it. Once on a warm day when she sat in a little park without any panties on, she caught a man in his late fifties looking hungrily between her legs. She realized she was naked underneath, and she had run wildly out of the area. Ever since then she had had a strong dislike of the very thought of oral sex. She had fought successfully against her discomfort when she had met me and had given me as much as she could to prove her love. But when I had insisted on doing nothing but sucking, her old feelings of revulsion reasserted themselves.
"Touched, and deeply disturbed, by my wife's confession, I told her honestly about my own fears: that I was an old man married to a young girl, and tiat I could not satisfy her, that I would find my cock had gone flabby once I got it into her pussy-if, indeed, I ever did penetrate her. That was another fear ... that I could not get it hard enough to do it. I told her I was afraid she would laugh at me derisively, that she would be full of scorn and just walk out on me.
"I told her of how I had even come close to giving her up entirely before the marriage, of my first wife's bitter, contemptuous words about me ... of how she had called me a 'dirty old goat.'
"Anna was extremely quiet as I spoke. Then later, when I was finished, she kissed me slowly and tenderly and told me how deeply she loved me. How it had happened because of a chemistry between us that had nothing to do with sheer physical sex.
" 'But I know you are very wrong about your abilities, darling,' she said. 'And I want you to try after a while again. I want you inside me.'
"'And what if I fail?' I asked.
" 'Then we'll try again ... and again. Tomorrow and the next day. Till we get it right.'
" 'Let's wait till tomorrow, at least,' I pleaded.
"She shook her head adamantly. 'No. My mother told me something a long time ago-if you are afraid to do a thing, do it at once. Set your mind straight. It has always worked for me. With riding horses, driving a car in heavy traffic, or climbing mountains. This is a mountain you must climb. But you must do it now, before it hurts you more to back away from it.'
"I nodded slowly, and then went inside to take a shower. As I soaped my flabby-looking cock, I wondered if it would stand up inside of her. If it did not, then I would definitely leave her. It would not be fair to hang on to her just because I got pleasure out of it.
"When I got back to the bedroom, Anna was fully dressed again. She kissed me, and then slowly began to caress me as we stood together. She let her fingers move over my face and neck, and then down to my crotch where she played a little game with my soft cock. It felt good, but I was still rather nervous.
"'I guess I'm not excited enough yet,' I said apologetically.
" 'What would excite you, dearest? Does looking at my pussy arouse you?'
"When I nodded, she took off her panties, held them up and dropped them on the floor. As I stooped to pick them and sniffed at the perfume coming from them, I had an idea.
" 'I know what would really excite me,' I said. 'Let me lie on the floor, and then walk around me without your panties on.'
"She nodded, smiling. I lay on my back on the rug while she moved around the room, coming ever closer to my face. The view was marvelous. I could look up under her miniskirt and see her superb, long, tanned legs and thighs. In between the delicious columns was her rich, black bush of pubic hair. The sight of her cunt, just a few inches from my mouth and nose, was so electric in its effect on my senses that it seemed almost to raise the hairs on my arms.
" 'How do you like it, darling?' she asked playfully.
" 'Wonderful. Come closer. I want to be able to taste it. To smell your delicious pussy's perfume.'
" 'Very well. But just to taste. Remember. This is simply to get you excited.'
"She moved in closer and stood just over my face with one leg on either side of me. I looked up and got a direct view of her luscious young cunt and I could feel my prick stiffening. Then she did something that I did not expect but which galvanized me even more sexually. She lowered her crotch to within a couple of inches of my face. The pungent odor of her sweet moist pussy permeated my nostrils.
"Then without warning, she sat on my face. She placed her cunt on my nose and mouth and slowly twisted her crotch this way and that until my head was deluged with the sense of her lovely sexuality. I was aware of her voluptuousness in a new, delightful way, and suddenly I felt an enormous desire overwhelm me.
"I squeezed her thighs with my hands and pushed her off. 'Get on the bed,' I said quickly.
"Grinning with pleasure, she moved to the bed and spread her legs. With her shoes and nylon stockings still on her, her young cunt was framed in a way that whipped my desire more than I had thought possible. I lowered my pants in a hurry, anxious to get into that superb-looking crotch as soon as I could. I heard her giggle with delight as she saw the way my cock stood up.
"I got between her legs, aimed my prick right at her hole, and, shutting my eyes, prayed
that it would stay hard. I need not have worried. The sight of her cunt and the still lingering smell and feel of her pussy on my face, had lathered my desire. I had to get in now. I pressed hard against the tiny-looking pink slit and saw her wince slightly. It was not going to be too easy, I could see. But I had to keep trying.
"Finally, after bearing down as hard as I could, I got the tip of my cock inside her slit and heard her groan with pleasure. Her cunt was so tight, I could hardly move inside it. I felt the walls of her cunt squeezing me as if they held me in a tight vise. But I did not mind the sensation. I loved it. What a wonderful difference between this and the loose feeling of being in my ex-wife's middle-aged cunt. When I was in her pussy, I felt almost nothing working on my cock. Anna's young cunt felt hot and moist, and so deliciously narrow.
"I felt as if I had had to be shoehorned into her tight little cunt, and the effect of this on me was to whip up my desire even more. As I kept pumping it into her cunt, her muscles in their turn began to work on me. I felt as if my cock were being milked by a powerful mouth, and it felt absolutely glorious. like nothing I had ever experienced in my whole life.
"All of a sudden I felt sure that we would be all right sexually. That I could satisfy her, and that we would both have wonderful experiences in bed. And then I lost all my thoughts. A wonderful euphoria shot through me as I approached my orgasm, and as I heard her own cries of delight. And a moment later we both came together."
CHAPTER FIVE
Good-bye, Melissa
"It's raining again. It's been raining on and off ever since Melissa left a week ago. When it starts raining down here in Cuernavaca, it seems like it's going to go on and on, endlessly, until the whole earth gets flooded. I wonder where Melissa is now. ... I never thought it would end like this. ... I might have known it would, but I never thought it. At my ageforty-five-which is neither young anymore, nor not yet old, such thoughts are not thought. I suppose guilt has something to do with it. Refusal to admit being a fool-refusal to admit that the involvement had hurt others, who a year ago were loved. Wife and son. Marc is nineteen. Three years older than Melissa was-is-somewhere out there in the rain. Melissa with the girlish smile and the penultimate pneumatic hip joints. The combination that made me a deserter, a fugitive of sorts when you get right down to it.
"Was it Brahms who is supposed to have stepped out of the house one day to go to the bakery and buy a loaf of bread, and then kept on going, never to return home? Well, that's pretty close to the way it happened with me-and Melissa.
"I was going to San Diego from Los Angeles one day a year ago, on business. I'm an artist-mostly commercial work for magazine ads and such, though I do try to keep a dozen or so canvases scattered throughout the galleries at all times. Anyway, I was going to San Diego to drop off an assignment. I'd kissed Cheryl good-bye early that morning-the argument that we had the night before forgotten. It had something to do with her mother-in-law. ... Marc was away at his job-part-time work that he was doing to help us put him through college....
"It was a beautiful day. Wisps of clouds in the sky. A soft breeze. I wasn't thinking of anything special as I sped along the freeway past Capistrano.
"Melissa registered on my optic nerve at first as a blue blur in the distance. As a rule I don't pick up hitchhikers. Not because of any prejudices or fears but because I usually travel in the fast lane on the freeway, which is away from the road shoulder and whatever hitchhiker it might hold.
"Fate threw me a curve that day though. I was passing a group of slow-moving cars in the inner lanes when Melissa appeared on the road shoulder ahead. She was dressed the way most kids are dressed nowadays-faded blue jeans and a tight pullover sweater. The breeze was playing with her long, shimmering red-gold hair. Her thumb was out. She had an airline satchel in her free hand. There was no way of telling her age. She might have been thirteen; she might have been twenty-three.
"I pulled the Mustang off the road after slowing down just past her. I saw her walk toward the car in my rear-view mirror. A moment later the door opened and she set the bag down on the floor, then slid in next to me.
" 'Thanks,' she said, a flicker of a smile curving her slightly pouty lips, setting a couple of dimples in her cheeks.
"The first thing I noticed about her was her smile, the second were her breasts. I didn't stare; as a matter-of-fact, I averted my gaze as soon as I realized for a fact that she was apparently a 'liberated' girl. She wasn't wearing a bra; it was obvious because her nipples were easily discernible as little rises in her sweater at the tip of her breasts. As I said, I didn't stare, so I was slightly taken aback when she said: 'I don't wear a bra.' Then, without so much as a pause, asked me if I was one of those squares' who thought that women should wear bras and if I was married.
"I said that since I wasn't a woman, it wasn't up to me to say what women 'should' or 'shouldn't' do and that, yes, I was married.
"Before we had gone so much as twenty-five miles down the road, she pretty well had the story of my life as well as my attitudes toward war, the economy, and sex. She managed this through rapid-fire questions. And I? I knew that I was going to try to get into her pants. Especially after she told me that she was running away from home and that she didn't have any particular place in mind to go.
"I looked at her. She smiled, her eyes glinting with gold specks against green. She shrugged her shoulders. I sighed.
'"Have you ever been to Tijuana?' I asked her.
"She shook her head. 'No.' Then, after a pause: 'Is that where we're going?'
"I didn't say anything for a few seconds.
" 'Don't you like me? she asked.
" 'I don't even know your name' I said.
"She moved a little closer to me in the seat. 'Melissa,' she said. 'Last name is unimportant. I like you. I am under-age. I think you need a vacation. I am not a virgin, but I'm clean.'
"I cleared my throat. She laughed. Then she moved her hand suddenly into my crotch.
" 'You aren't wearing a jock strap,' she said, her fingers curling around the bulge in my pants, 'and I don't think you should.' Her squeezing fingers did nothing to alleviate what was happening to my cock. They only made it harder.
" 'Melissa,' I said, 'I'm old enough to be your father.'
"She ignored my statement, and, considering the fact that it was obvious to her I liked what she was doing, I certainly couldn't blame her for ignoring it.
"I put my right arm around her, my hand dropping down to cup her right breast. Her nipple was a hard nubbin in the palm of my hand. I tried keeping my eyes on the road. Her hand rubbing my hard on didn't make that too easy.
"I was thinking of what motel we could pull into, and whether it should be one in San Diego or in Tijuana, when Melissa said: 'You know what I feel like doing right about now?'
" 'I have an idea' I said.
" 'Mmmmm,' she moaned. 'I'd like to straddle that cock of yours and slide it right into my pussy-and then just fuck away until you flood me with your cream.... '
"Her words brought my prick to full attention, as far as that was possible within the confines of my trousers.
"Melissa laughed. 'How long is it?' she asked.
" 'I don't know,' I said. 'I never measured it.'
" 'For a man your age-' She paused, as if catching herself saying something she shouldn't have brought up.
" 'For a girl your age,' I said, rolling her nipple between the material of her sweater and my fingers, 'you sound like you've been at it a long time.'
"Melissa squeezed my cock. 'Long enough to have learned what this is for.' She kissed me suddenly on the cheek. 'When are we gonna get there? I can hardly wait.'
" 'About two hours,' I said.
" 'To San Diego?'
"I shook my head, trying to keep my mind off her steadily working fingers in my crotch. 'We'll cross the border.'
" 'Isn't that a federal offense?' she asked, serious-her fingers still stroking though.
" 'Honey,' I said, paused, catching myself before saying that I didn't care, and ended up by admitting that it was.
" 'Maybe we better just spend some time in San Diego,' Melissa offered.
"I didn't say anything. I felt the hardness leaving my crotch. Melissa's hand was gone.
" 'How old are you, Melissa?' I asked, knowing the answer before she responded.
"'Sixteen,' she said. Then: 'Shit.'
"For about fifteen minutes neither one of us said anything. My hand was still draped over Melissa's shoulder, and my thoughts were being shredded by the deep-down craving I was feeling for her. The craving won over....
" 'If you are game,' I finally said, 'so am I. We'll cross the border, spend a couple of days in Tijuana, maybe drive down to Ensenada, then I'll drop you off where I picked you up.... '
'"What about your assignment?' she asked, nodding toward the back seat and my portfolio there.
" 'It'll only take me a minute to drop it off.'
"She grinned and her hand crept back into my crotch. 'Groovy,' she said. Then, before I knew it, her fingers had worked down my zipper and her hand was grasping my meat.
" 'Honey,' I said, 'if you keep that up we're going to have an accident.'
"Quickly her hand pulled my hard on out of my pants. 'Not if I catch it in my mouth,' she said, lowering her head down toward my crotch.
"I felt the tip of her tongue touch the knob of my erection, then her breath coat it with warmth. 'It's gorgeous,' she whispered, flicking her tongue against its tip and at the same time moving her hand up and down-slowly-along its shaft. 'Do you want me to suck you off?' she asked, her voice sounding throaty and ragged.
"I was going to answer her, but she didn't give me time.
" 'Do you want me to take your prick in my mouth and lick it and suck it?' she continued. 'Do you want to fuck my mouth? Do you want to feel my lips tight against it? Do you want to come, spurting against my throat, to feel my tongue and throat muscles working on your cock?. . . '
"I listened to her murmuring voice, wondering where a girl her age had learned to talk like that, getting more and more aroused by her monologue. Then I felt her lips envelop my cock, felt the heat of her mouth surrounding my hard on, became conscious of her fluttering tongue and a sucking sensation-a sucking sensation combined with an up-and-down movement of her head as her lips, tight upon the shaft of my hard on, slid up and down its length.
"Instinctively, I began to respond, moved my hips back and forth, braced myself with one foot against the car's floorboards at the firewall, and-as she had suggested-fucked Melissa's sixteen-year-old mouth....
"She had somehow managed to work my balls out of the fly and, while she was sucking my cock, was kneading them, gently, with her fingers.
"It didn't take long. The moist cavern of her mouth, its heat, the friction of her lips against the length of my erection, and the suction she applied set off a spark in my balls, at the base of my cockshaft. That spark grew into a tingling sensation that seemed to radiate to the base of my spine and then up and throughout all the nerves of my body. I had to grasp the steering wheel with both hands firmly to keep myself from going off the side of the road as my cock pulsed once, twice, then spewed its come in successive shots into Melissa's mouth. And she didn't stop the up-and-down movement of her head when the first rush of my jism coated her throat; she accelerated her movements, tightening her lips around my hard on, and letting out a moan and a shudder suggesting that she, too, felt something akin to a tingle in her pussy. She didn't give up until she had drained my balls dry, swallowing all that came from them. I swear it felt as though the suction she was applying to the head of my cock was working all the way down the shaft tube and to the storehouse of sperm way down at its base....
"Finally, she let her lips slip off my prick-now going soft-and licked it clean.
" 'Oh, manomanoman!' she muttered between flicks of her tongue. 'I can't wait to get really fucked by this hunk of horny meat.... ' She raised her face up to mine. It sort of shocked me. She seemed somehow even younger than she was-perhaps it was the contrast of her adolescent face next to her little fingers still clutching my certainly post-adolescent cock. 'How far to the fucking motel ? ' she whispered.
"It was then, I suspect, it dawned on me that the girl was a nymphomaniac. But I didn't let it bother me. All I could think of was stripping her jeans off of her ass, spreading her young legs, and ramming my cock into that hot twat of hers. I wondered what her pussy looked like. Did she have a thick mat of red gold to cushion my fuck-strokes? Was her tunnel tight? Did she have a neat crease there-or were her pussy lips large and visible, protruding hungrily to grasp my erection and suck it in between them? How many times has she been fucked? I wondered.
" 'How many times have you been fucked?' I asked her, slipping into her vocabulary almost unconsciously.
"She shrugged her shoulders. 'You haven't answered my question,' she said.
"I forgot her question. Not the answer though. I was already keeping my eyes open for the next motel that would appear on the road. I simply didn't associate my urge with her query.
" 'How long,' she said in an even voice, 'before we get off the road and get into a fucking motel?' She squeezed my cock on her last word.
" 'Straight ahead,' I said, feeling suddenly excited-more than I had been to this point. 'Straight ahead, baby!'
"Moments later I was parked in front of the little motel office. We hadn't made it to San Diego, let alone the border. And I almost got out of the car without putting my meat away. Melissa, fortunately, was still holding on to it.
" 'You better hide that,' she said. 'Otherwise the manager might get an idea of why you are in such a rush to get a room.... '
* * *
"Minutes later, we were in the dingy little motel room. Melissa had walked in ahead of me, and I couldn't help noticing the fullness of her ass in the tight confines of her jeans. It wasn't that she was heavy there-not at all. Rather, it was the smooth curvature that made me lick my lips as I shut the door to the outside behind us. Then Melissa turned. My eyes locked in on her sweater, with her cantaloupe-size tits pushing the material out, the nubbins of her nipples teasing my eyes. Then I let my eyes slide down her flat tummy-a strip of bare skin showed itself between the hem of her sweater and the top of her jeans-and on to the juncture of her thighs.
" 'Doesn't that hurt?' I asked her, staring lewdly at her crotch.
"'Doesn't what hurt?' she asked, smiling.
" "The way those Levi's are cutting into your pussy, Melissa?' I took a step toward her and slowly moved one hand forward until it was cupping her cunt, and the other up and under her sweater. Her skin was warm; her nipples were like little pebbles. She moaned as I rubbed her between her legs, hard.
"The incredible frenzy that followed I will never be able to forget. It was sparked by
Melissa's response of grabbing my cock through my pants with one hand and sliding the other behind me-to burrow her fingers into the crease of my ass. For a moment, locked like that, we stood grinding our bodies against each other; then my mouth came down on hers and my tongue shot into her hot and moist cavity. She bit on it, forcing me to draw back on my tongue, then slid her hot little pointed one into my mouth. ... We fell on the bed, with me on top of her, her legs automatically and eagerly splaying open. By then I had her sweater worked up so that her glorious breasts were revealed to my eyes-white alabaster tipped with pink marble.
"I didn't have to undress her. Melissa's hands were busy with her jeans-she'd let go of my ass, but still kept a grip on my erection, massaging it through the material of my pants, grinding her body against mine and with those grinding motions working her jeans down her legs. It wasn't until I felt the nakedness of her thighs rubbing up and down my sides that I realized we had to tear apart-just long enough to strip.
"I tore myself away from her and stood up by the side of the bed, unzipping my fly, ripping the buttons off my shirt, pulling down my shorts. ... Melissa only had to pull her sweater off over her head. She did that in a flash, and the following instant was rolling around on the bed, grinding herself against the bed covers, waiting for me, staring hungrily at the way my hard on was poking out with the rigidity of tempered steel out of the clump of hairs around it....
"When the last of my clothing was off me, and seeing where her green-speckled eyes were focused, I took hold of my cock and stroked it a couple of times in my fist, letting the skin slide back and forth over the shaft. 'Is this what you want, Melissa?' I asked her.
"She nodded quickly, rolling over on her back and spreading her legs. The red streak in the gold of her hair was natural, and the gold mine between her smooth thighs-with little wisps of spun gold surrounding the pink gash of her pussy, glistening slightly with the excitement of arousal-was fascinating.
"Her hands cupped her breasts, pressed them together, then let go of them and slid down her unblemished flanks until they were resting against her thighs, palms down, right beneath her pussy. Then her fingers moved inward, toward her pussy lips. 'Is this-' she asked, breathing heavily as she placed a finger of each hand on the puffed pinkness on either side of her glorious vagina and then gently pulled her fingers away from each other, more and more, until her young slit was transformed into the round hole of the entrance to her cunt. 'Is this where you want to plant that pole?' One of her fingers suddenly slipped all the way, to its last knuckle, into her cunt. 'Way in there? So you can pull it out part way-' Her finger slid out until only the first joint of it was between her pussy lips. '-then ram it back in-' Her finger disappeared. '-then pull it out-then.... '
"I couldn't stand her teasing me like that any longer. I let go of my cock and placed my hands on her knees. 'Get your finger out of there!'
"She did. Her fingers held her glistening pussy open.
" 'Fuck me!' she muttered as I pulled her to the edge of the bed, then placed my hands under her ass, lifting her up slowly. It didn't take much effort. She aided me-her eyes locked on the gradually lessening distance between the slit-ended, crimson knob of my cock and the opening between her legs, still held wide open by her fingers.
"An electric shock seemed to go through me as the lubricated tip of my cock touched the pliable softness of her pussy lips. I let my cock slide up and over the pink nub of her clitoris; then, raising her slightly, I had the head of my cock press into the slickness of her young vagina.
" 'The head is in,' she murmured, her eyes glazed with the sensations that were undoubtedly as strong between their thighs as they were between mine. 'Oh, fuck!' her voice was throaty, but it still held the youthfulness of her age in it. I felt her cunt muscles contract around my cock head and seem to try drawing it deeper into her.
"With a slowness that almost drove me out of my mind, I moved my hips forward, watching the juncture of mine and Melissa's bodies. Watching my shaft slide into the girl's cunt was almost enough to make me shoot my load into her. I suppose it actually didn't take more than five to ten seconds before the coarse hairs around the base of my cock, black in color, entwined with the red gold, and much finer muff of Melissa's mound. Watching the shaft slide into her, however, seeing its thickness stretch her fuck hole and then begin to draw the lips inward. ... It sent a shudder through me and a low and sensuously guttural moan through the girl.
"Then; 'I feel your balls against my ass,' she whispered, working the muscles of her cunt along the entire length of my shaft buried in her. 'I feel you cock all the fucking way in my cunt!'
"I was about to start drawing back so I could ram myself back into her and start on the wildest ride of my life when Melissa murmured: 'Don't move! I'm going to jack you off-with my pussy.... '
"I let her. It wasn't easy. Not moving. Several times during her humping movements I helped her with a stroke of my own. And toward the end-when I knew that it was but moments before my cock cream would be filling Melissa's pussy-I began plunging in and pulling out of her like a maniac, but by then it didn't matter. Melissa's moans, the pressure of her thighs against my hips as she locked her legs around me, the way her eyes suddenly rolled up in their sockets, the shortness of her breath, and the wild pumping of her ass combined with the liquid-solid sound of my cock shaft pistoning in and out of her and of my balls slapping with a violent, wet, smacking sound against her young ass told me that Melissa was in the clutches of orgasm.
"Finally, unable to hold back any longer, I drew back and slammed the thick, hard, pulsating length of my hard on into her-and held it there. I swear I thought I could feel the pulse of Melissa's heart against the head of my cock eight inches within her.
" 'Oh, Godddd!' she suddenly screamed, just as I let go-spurt after spurt after spurt of my come into her innards. 'I'm coming, baby! I feel-you-floooooddddding meeeeeeee! Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!' With the last 'fuck' Melissa drew back about six inches and then-violently-skewered herself on my still throbbing cock once again. She held herself tight against me for several seconds, then-as I let go of her ass-fell back on the bed.
"My cock slid out of her with a loud popping sound, still half hard, still oozing egg-white cream out of its crimson head. A droplet of it fell on Melissa's thigh, and the girl shuddered. Her hand moved toward me, blindly. I moved toward her hand, took my cock, and placed it in such a position that would inevitably make her hand come in contact with it. It did. Her fingers curled around it and she pulled me toward her.
" 'Fuck my mouth,' she muttered.
"I climbed on the bed and set a knee on either side of her head. She kept her eye? closed. 'Fuck my mouth,' she repeated, 'while you are eating my pussy.... '
"Melissa was insatiable. After I had let my cock slide between her young, bee-stung lips, and into her mouth, and had lowered my
mouth to the pink-slitted muff between her legs, and after she forced another load out of my cock, while she ground her pussy against my lips and tongue, she asked me if I wanted to fuck her in the ass. ... She said she had never done that. I told her that I would need some time to get myself into functioning order again.
" 'You mean into fucktioning order,' she said, giggling. Then nodded her head. 'You are doing fine. I think I'm gonna stay with you.'
"I looked at her strangely, I suppose, because she suddenly looked very vulnerable and hurt.
" 'Don't you like me?'
"It was that method that she used on me to get me across the border with her that very day. I fucked her in the ass in Tijuana. In Ensenada she insisted on getting screwed on the beach, screaming that she was being fucked by the ocean, that the ocean was filling her cunt, that she wanted every last drop of my come in her. Of course, I obliged her.
"A week later we went through the ritual of getting married. The thoughts of Cheryl-my wife in Los Angeles-and of my son Marc were locked in the darkest recesses of my mind. They simply ceased to exist....
"Cheryl reported me missing to the authorities. I read about it. It didn't take them long to find out that I had 'apparently gone to Mexico, deserting wife and son,' since I had transferred half of the savings we had to a Cuernavaca bank where I 'settled down' with Melissa....
"Needless to say, I couldn't satisfy her.
"Within a month after our sham marriage, she brought home a young Mexican kid and had him screw her on the patio of the house we were renting, while I sat in the living room, listening to her moans, their slurps and moist slap-slaps, followed by heavy pants and screams, and loading myself to the gills.
"One night I was asleep, after downing a bottle of scotch, in 'our' bedroom. I woke up to the sound of Melissa and two studs-a Mexican and a black-going at it right next to me. She was sucking off the black while the Mexican kid-who couldn't have been older than fifteen or sixteen himself-was sliding his cock in and out of Melissa's ass.
"It became a frequent occurrence. Her bringing others to the house-to do her the honors. Within four months after our arrival in Cuernavaca, my sessions with Melissa began to occur less and less frequently. ... Last month, she went down on me once, while she was getting screwed and buggered at the same time by a 'couple of friends' of hers....
"A week ago she went out as she usually did, without saying a word. Two days ago I got a card from her. All it said was: 'Thanks, but you are getting too old for me.'
"It's still pouring outside. One thing nice about Cuernavaca-Mexico, in general. Death-anyone's death-even a gringo's, is taken as part of life, the end part. ... All I have to do is get plastered-for courage...."
CONCLUSION
Our marriage laws, specifically those setting down minimum ages at which marriages are permissible in different states, can be rather easily graphed as a pseudo-mathematical visualization of these laws. Mathematically, of course, such a graph means absolutely nothing; interpretatively, however, these "minimum marriage laws" produce a crooked line, zigzagging with a tug-of-war uncertainty between the number 13 (the age at which a girl may marry in New Hampshire, provided she has parental and Court's consent) and the number 21 (the age at which a couple may marry in any state and without anyone's consent but each other's). Any marriage between a couple whose ages meet the minimum age requirement of any particular state in which they are residing is considered thereby to be legal in that state; in the adjacent state, on the other hand, their marriage may not be legal, thereby slipping into what is colloquially known as a "jail-bait" situation.
The five narratives that have been presented in this book bared the bones, so to speak, of such potential jail-bait marriages, revealing less the legal or illegal side of the situation than the psychological difficulties inherent to marriages in which one of the partners is considerably younger than the other. The impression obtained from these narratives, if carefully analyzed, will reveal that such marriages work for some of the people some of the time, especially if they put a great deal of effort (emotional and psychological) into them.
The most interesting question that these same narratives answer, however, is why age-mismatched couples struggle against all odds-to make their marriages work. Whether the struggle is worth the sorrow, the pleasure, and the pain is for the reader to decide.
