"As I was playing with his naked prick, Mr. J. was frantically unbuttoning my blouse.
He was ready to rip that blouse off me if the buttons didn't come undone fast enough. Fortunately, the last button popped open of its own accord, and my beauties bounced out at him, bare and proud. Another moan followed as he grabbed me and stuffed one of the full titties into his mouth with a hunger I recognized. I stood there and let him fondle my boobies and suck on one of them while I passionately moved his monster of a prick up and down.
"The juices in my cunt were almost to the boiling point by this time, and I really wanted a good fucking ... and I knew I was going to get it right soon. Since I had planned this all out in advance, I had left my panties in my purse in my locker. I had purposely worn a skirt a little longer than usual so that it would hide my lovely fluff of cunt hair.
"Moving with a suddenness that took him completely off guard, I swung my leg up over his lap and guided his tremendous erection right to my cunt hole. There was nothing left for me to do but to push down hard. And that's exactly what I did! Down I went! Hard! And up he went-hard! Man, what a prick! That goddamned motherfucking prick was all the way up to my tonsils and still going! It filled all of me and left no room for a breath of air! I was dying with ecstasy!
"He almost yowled out loud when my juicy cunt pounced on his unsuspecting prick, but I was prepared for that and clamped my mouth down hard on his. I shoved my tongue into his hot mouth before he could have a chance to close it, and I met his tongue. They mingled there for a moment while I got the feel of his prick up inside me. Then, when I knew where I was and what was inside me, I sucked on his lips a bit, then leaned way back so he could get a good hold on my tits once more.
"Up and down I went-pumping like crazy. That fucking prick inside of me was such a tight fit that I was almost hollering myself. I could barely stand the beautiful feeling I was getting down there. Then the sensation of both of my nipples being squeezed hard-real hard-doubled the pleasure I was already receiving. I was almost jumping up and down from the pure pleasure of it all as I pumped away on his prick. We were really grooving by this time, and he was really into it good.
"He was slumped down real low in his chair so that all of his prick would slip up into my juiciness when I slammed down on him. Man, you could tell from the look on his face that he was really enjoying himself! His eyes were all glazed over and his mouth was hanging open and he was breathing so hard that I could feel it hot on my face. He kept moaning while he was molding and squeezing my titties good and hard, and that made me moan all the louder, but not loud enough to bring the rest of the school piling in to see what was going on. I've never lost my cool that way. I always know just what I'm doing ... and why.
"I could tell that he was really hanging on, trying to make it last as long as possible before shooting off, so I decided to really give him a treat. I began wiggling my hips around in a circular motion like I had been taught by one of my older boyfriends. Around and around I sent my hips, and that seemed to cause even more friction down there between us and inside me. It was doing wonders for us both ... for his stiff rod and for my cunt and clit. His staff was rubbing on my clit every time I went up and down, and when I circled as well, it was really putting pressure and pleasure on that little sex button of mine!
"Christ, there is nothing in this world like a great big, stiff hunk of meat up your cunt! Really! That's all there is to life-almost. And I was really living! That giant-sized prick felt exactly like a telephone pole up my quivering cunt, and I wasn't sure that I could hold out much longer. But, then again, I figured, why should I prolong it too much-there'd be other times-lots of other times!
"With a frenzy, I pounded that beautiful fucking prick in and out of my fiery cunt until I could feel that marvelous buzz that comes just before I come. Everything inside my head started to get really tight ... then my hearing started to go ... and when I started to hold my breath, I knew that this was going to be it.
"Just as I took that huge gulp of air that signaled my flight off into outer space, I caught a glimpse of my fucking lover-and he was gulping in one last gasp of air, too. We were both about to go on a flight together. Every nerve in my body was set, ready to go, and Mr. J-'s muscles were tensing in anticipation. From that moment on there was nothing but sensation-pure sensation. I couldn't hear anything or see anything ... all I could do was feel! And all I could feel was me-only me there, hung up on this telephone pole by my cunt.
"With all the fury of a volcano erupting, my entire body shook. Sparks of flashing lights of brilliant colors and hues blazed from behind my eyelids, and my legs and hips jerked and twitched violently till I thought I was going to go out of my skull. It was beautiful! Just as my throbbing cunt began to slow its squeezing of that marvelous prick, I felt the tension of that monster within me suddenly release itself. With a force I would never have believed possible, spurt after spurt of come pounded at the back of my cunt, causing me to start that beautiful climb up the mountain of sensation all over again. I was still coming when I felt his last little jerk before he collapsed in his chair, a puddle of satisfied flesh.
"Leaning over, I planted a juicy kiss on his relaxed lips, and he barely had the strength to return it. He was breathing so hard that he couldn't kiss me for more than a moment or two before pulling away to gasp for air. I got the idea and began kissing him all over his handsome, sweaty face. He was so gorgeous like that, all worn out and drained. I felt a pleasant stirring within me-almost a motherly feeling. I wanted to take this glorious creature home with me and fuck the living hell out of him for ever and ever.
"I could feel. his mammoth prick start its descent down my cunt, shrinking within me, pulling itself down. I wanted to keep it up there, but there was no way to fight gravity and nature, so I carefully climbed off his lap, and grabbed for the kleenex on his desk. Slapping several wad-ded-up tissues up between my legs to keep the hot come from dribbling down my legs, I began buttoning up my blouse.
"Mr. J just sat there, his legs still spread wide apart and the head of his fast-disappearing prick sticking up out of his fly. His head was still hanging back and his arms were drooping limply over the arms of his chair. Man, I had really done him in but good! A fleeting thought passed through my mind as I wondered how long it would take before he was all revived and ready to go again. But I knew enough to realize that this was not the time or the place to find out. That would come later-and so would we!
"Finally, he opened his eyes and stared into mine. In all this time, I had never bothered to notice just how lovely his big blue-gray eyes were. There were flecks of gold and green there, too. How truly beautiful this man was! There wasn't that much gray in his hair-it was still really very brown, but that brown wasn't just any ordinary brown. It was like reddish, goldish, chestnut brown, and it suited his flushed complexion. I had always dug men with reddish hair-not the real redheads, but a reddish tinge. That was nice.
"I was smiling at him as his puzzled eyes stared right into mine. It was as if he were trying to work mental telepathy on me-asking me why ? I just sat there on the edge of his desk and grinned back at him, waiting for him to say something.
"Finally, he did. 'Why?' was all he could come up with, and it hadn't really been necessary because I had already read that in his gorgeous eyes. When he repeated it, I decided I might as well give him an answer-he deserved that much for all the pleasure he had given me.
" 'Because I like men with big pricks! Why else?' I replied with a smirk.
" 'Why me?' he gasped out, still panting from the exertion of the fucking.
" 'From such a brainy guy as you, that's a pretty dumb question!' I retorted, almost disappointed in my new lover.
"There was a no-nonsense look on his face, so I decided I might as well give him the whole story. 'You see, Mr. J-, by the way, what the hell is your first name, anyway?'
" 'Craig,' he blurted out before he realized that students aren't allowed to know or use the first names of faculty members.
" 'Well, Craig, it's like this,' I cleared my throat and looked him square in the eye. 'As I said before, I dig men with big pricks-men, that is. And you're the best-looking man in the whole school. There's no getting away from that. Besides, I figured that if I got you to fuck me, then I'd have like a hold on you-am I right?'
"His face flushed and he opened his mouth to speak, but I daintily placed my hand over his lips and continued: 'You see, I need things-clothes, jewelry, stuff like that-and I figure that now that you've fucked me and I can prove it-one call to Miss P-out there is all that it'll take, and you've had it, but good-you might just be willing to chip in to the Lorianne M-fund for underprivileged orphans. It's as simple as that. Plus,' I hastened to add, 'there'll be all kinds of fringe benefits for your bread. I mean, this won't have to be the last time we have fun and games. There can be all the fucking in the world between us. That's your end of it-that's what you'll get out of it.
" 'I figure, even if you're married, where can you get pussy like mine? Your wife ought to be just about your age by now, and her cunt ought to be pretty sloppy and loose. I offer you a tight, young cunt that'll hold up for a long time. And all you have to give in return is your magnificent prick and a little bread on the side. That sounds fair, doesn't it?' I was talking real fast so he couldn't stop me before it had all sunk in and he made the wrong choice in a hurry
" 'Before you make any snap decisions, just let the whole idea sink in, Craig. It's not like I'm blackmailing you or anything. I'm just trading you pleasure for pleasure ... dig? You give me bread to buy my pleasures, and I'll let you use my cunt for your kind of pleasures ... tit for tat.'
" 'Of all the ... I never ... I can't believe this is actually ... my God! Lorianne! Do you realize what you're saying? What you're asking? What you mean? Lorianne!' He was so flustered that he just couldn't get his words all straight. And here he was such a bright guy. But, this was the normal reaction from most of the guys I had propositioned this way. It just took a little getting used to, that's all.
" 'Now, Craig, please calm down. Think about it! It could work out just fine. You like my big tits, don't you? And my cunt was nice and tight and juicy, wasn't it?' He was nodding ever so slightly in answer to these questions. 'Well, what the hell! Would you rather I pull out the kleenex and yell for Miss P-- ... and show her the come-your come-dripping down my legs? That'd end your lovely career. They'd never let you near kids ever again. Man, your wife might even leave you! You got a career and a family-I presume-to think about before you go and make the wrong decision. Just think on that for-a bit before you give me an answer.'
"Craig's face got all screwed up and I could see color starting to rise up from below his collar as his face began to flush again. He really didn't know whether to really blow his cool, or cool it. Actually, I hadn't left him much choice, and he knew it. Or, if he was thinking straight, he knew it. If he blew his cool, we'd both had it ... but I had sized him up as a pretty smart guy, and I was fairly sure that he was going to take me up on my proposition after he got used to the idea. It always took awhile.
"Finally, the redness began to leave his face and the beginnings of a smile started to crack at the corners of his wide mouth. Then his blue-gray eyes started to crinkle a little at the edges and underneath, and before I knew it, my handsome Craig was grinning from ear to ear. Before I realized it, he was actually laughing! Laughing! That had never happened before! I'd had many responses, but never broad laughter!
"I stood there, leaning against his desk, my mouth hanging open a little as he said, 'Lorianne! You really are the one! I have never run into anything like you in all my years of teaching, counseling, and principaling. You are really something else altogether! And you're just what I've been looking for! Exactly! You little minx! You had me pegged, all right. I do have a wife with a loose and sloppy cunt whom I'd like to trade in on two twenties-but one fifteen-year-old would do even better! With you in my pocket I'd never have to worry about jealousy or your forcing me to marry you. All you want out of me is a little spending money-bread, you call it-and you'll give me everything I've been searching for, for these last few years.'
"His words stunned me and took me completely off balance. His reaction was the last type of reaction I could have expected. Some of the men I had propositioned had given in for one reason or another, but none had been as elated as Craig. It was almost too good to be true, and I wasn't too sure that he might not be laying some sort of a trap for me-after the trap I had laid for him. But the look on his face and the ring of his words seemed too genuine to be false; there was truth in his eyes and his voice-and his words made a lot of sense. Man, had I made it or had I made it? Here I had hooked the principal of the whole fucking junior high school! Man, if only there vas somebody I could share this with-but r never had anyone I could really rap with anyway.
"Craig, seeing that my facial expression had changed from one of cocksure victor to dumbstruck victor, laughed hard and loud. So loud, in fact, that Miss P-'s shadow appeared through a crack in the doorway as she swung the heavy wooden door open. With acute hearing like that, it was a wonder that she hadn't heard our panting and moaning and barged in to investigate long ago! But, I guess, of all the noises she had expected to hear coming from that room, laughter-especially the principal's-was the last thing she had expected. Her sour-lemon look told us both as much.
" 'Anything I can do for you, Mr. J--? ' she said, wrinkling her nose up as if smelling something rancid.
" 'No, Miss P-, thank you. Everything is completely under control here. Lorianne has explained herself to my total satisfaction and everything is fine-just fine.' "
Our subject, here, is pedophilia. Of course, that doesn't mean that other elements are not present also. As in the case of so many other aberrational or near-aberrational sexual inclinations, instances of pedophilia are usually accompanied by a whole host of other psychologic factors. One might even say that pedophilia is as much a symptom as it is a disease. And, complicating all this, we must take into consideration that pedophilia is, in slight degree, a "mirror-response" phenomenon; that is, in its more adult forms (meaning when the focal child is-or appears to be-a near-adult), pedophilia cannot be very successful unless it evokes a response in the other party. This response is called gerontophilia (love of the aged), and contains many of the same psychologicingredients as pedophilia-in somewhat the same manner that sadism and masochism complement each other. Insofar as aggression and dominance play an important role in the more aggravated cases of gerontophilia, we shall save the bulk of our comments regarding this reciprocal aberration for the case titled "Elaine Ross-Little Girl Blue." These prefacing remarks will deal with the essential topic, pedophilia.
Pais and paidos are from the Greek and mean child. Philos, also Greek, means lover of. Therefore, pedophilia means lover of children. It happens to be a socially abhorrent practice, almost universally regarded as dangerous, vile, depraved, etc. Most uninformed persons seem to think of the pedophile as a torturer, a sadist, a violent man. Usually, this is not the case. In fact, such things are clearly contrapsychologic to the makeup of this type of person. Psychologists are more prone to regard pedophilia as an affliction, which is, at the same time, both progressively insidious and involuntary. Very often, true pedophilia is manifest in acts of an approval-seeking nature, such as exhibitionism. By and large, pedophiliacs are frightened, docile, bedeviled men (sometimes women) who have little, if any, control over their driving sexual impulses. It should not be thought that pedophiliacs plan their acts, or that they act with any degree of choice. They are, in the highest sense of the word, sexually-driven persons.
Pedophilia occurs in both men and women. It is quite rare in women (approximately one-thirtieth the male frequency), and also somewhat rare in males under twenty-five years of age. Usually, when apparent pedophilia occurs in a boy of eighteen, say, other factors are present to indicate that the root disorder lies in another area. The incidence of bodily harm as a result of a pedophile's actions is not common, although it happens. The incidence of psychologic harm to the child is another matter entirely, and is certainly a matter of concern. There are many records of psychic damage occurring in prepubescent females in such a degree that recovery was only possible through years of psychiatric attention. This, of course, should be the central concern of the public, who seem overly preoccupied with the physical safety of the child.
There are etymological arguments regarding the term pedophilia, as well as psychological arguments dealing with its causes and effects. Addressing ourselves to the former premise, it should be mentioned that the Anglicization pedo means not only child, but since it transalphabetizes from the Greek sound paidos, it implies love of a male child. For this reason, and others, there has been a trend materializing during the past decade or so to be more specific in terminology. Hence, many clinicians today employ the word nymphophilia to describe attraction to under-age girls, and reserve the term pedophilia for attraction to under-age boys. Neither term either implies or rejects a homosexual component. This book, then, deals with four cases of nymphophilia and one of pedophilia. As stated, gerontophilia is implicit in several of our histories.
Psychologically, the attraction to children represents a flight from confrontation with normal heterosexuality or "normal" homosexuality. In either case, the nymphophile or pedophile is acting out normal sexual aggressions in an abnormal manner, if only in a biological sense. The child-lover is usually beset with doubts regarding his or her sexual prowess or attractiveness or ability to cope sexually with chronological peers. The overriding element here is fear of criticism, which, to the child-lover, is tantamount to proof of failure. It is because of such a feared circumstance, for that matter, that the nymphophile refuses to face it. His outlet, then, becomes those sexual objects not sophisticated enough to know the difference. His personal rationalization is entirely different, however, and he is usually one of the last to understand the dynamics which drive him. To understand more clearly this phenomenon, let us quote from The Encyclopedia of Human Behavior: Psychology, Psychiatry, and Mental Health, by Robert M. Goldenson, as follows:
Pedophiles are usually men who fondle a child of either sex, exhibit themselves, or attempt intercourse. They may occasionally induce the child to manipulate their own sex organs, and sometimes engage in anal or oral homosexual contact with young boys. Deviates of this type vary in educational background and fall into two major groups, one around thirty years and the other from fifty years up. A few are adolescents who are retarded in social and phychosexual development. The older group have usually been married and tend to seek out younger children; the younger group (of males) more often become involved with adolescent girls . ...
. . . (Researchers)...(1961) ... describe the dynamics of pedophilia in the following terms: "Pedophiliacs are particularly afflicted with anxiety regarding their sexual potency. like the rapist, the pedophiliac is not a hypersexed individual, but one whose sexual impulses are distorted by crippling anxiety. A large number give histories of impotence or partial impotence. It is evident that the pedophiliac's inferiority feelings lead him to search for younger and less formidable love objects whose ignorance would prevent his deficiency from becoming obvious. The child sexual object saves the offender's ego from blows which might prove destructive to his mental equilibrium."
The psychological pattern is somewhat different for the two age groups. Younger male offenders generally feel inadequate and are afraid of rejection when they approach women. They seek contact with children in order to meet sexual needs without the risk of failure and humiliation. These men are usually unable to establish normal sexual relationships with women of their own age and do not play an adequate role in the community. Many of them are ambulatory schizophrenics or schizoid personalities who-do not realize how eccentric their behavior is. They usually rationalize their actions by blaming them on alcohol or claiming that they were seduced by the boy or girl-a claim that has been substantiated in a few cases. In this connection it is interesting that most of the offenders and their victims knew each other before the incident.
Middle-aged offenders are frequently borderline psychotics, or in some cases overt psychotics who are conflicted over homosexual tendencies. Instead of becoming full homosexuals, they occasionally molest or seduce under-age boys. The oldest group of offenders is composed largely of senile psychotics who have lost the ability to inhibit their impulses as a result of chronic alcoholism, paresis, or brain disease of the senile or arteriosclerosis type. Some are actually impotent, others are fearful of losing their potency and are seeking to reassure themselves. In some cases these men are lonely individuals who simply want to show affection to a small girl, but the child has been warned so frequently about strange men that she becomes hysterical, and as a result the man is imprisoned for attempted rape . ...
On the other side of the coin, we find ourselves confronted with another phenomenon which both complicates the matter, and introduces a whole new set of considerations. In the natural course of events, pedophiles are psychologically considered to exist in a semi-vacuum; that is, both psychologists and the legal authorities somehow imagine that older men are motivated and aroused solely from within-when, in fact, more imaginative clinicians are keenly aware that the exhibitionistic or seductive actions of nymphets can very often serve to arouse a man who might be considered perfectly normal otherwise. It is the nature of normal men to imagine sexual congress with women other than their wives, and the closer to chastity the images materialize, the more exciting the thoughts. It is therefore not too unusual for hitherto normal men to find themselves conjuring up the figure, the sexuality, and the person of someone who exemplifies all the things he at one time envisioned and saw exemplified in his wife or some other love/sex object. Oddly, the most mature of men seem to have little defense against such images, provided they are symbolic of some maturation. As it happens, many girls of age twelve to fourteen-considered prepubescent chronologically-are well-enough developed to evoke sexual images in the most morally aware of men. In a manner of speaking, the age and the times have conspired against the well-adjusted man to make him a possible victim of desires that only a few decades ago would have been considered aberrational, without qualification. In short, he faces tests and provocations today his father did not. The pigtails and gingham are gone. The twelve and thirteen-year-old of this generation knows a great deal about sex, and she makes sure she looks the part. Sometimes it is so slickly pulled off-the apparition of maturity, we mean-one would swear the mother had conspired to create the illusion.
Altogether, then, the picture has changed effectively. The pedophiliac is both threatened and protected by this upheaval of custom, in that he is subjected to more exposure to enticing young females, and simultaneously buffeted by a more liberal code.
In general, it must be observed that several other factors have served-in all times past, it seems-to protect the nymphophile. Oftentimes, when reading of such case histories, it seems extraordinary that men can engage over such extended periods of time in practices so strongly condemned by society. Not the least of these reasons is that families are so reluctant to involve their small daughters in such a tawdry business, knowing full well that their reputation will be besmirched, in any event. Gebhard, P., et al, in Sex Offenders, remark that "it is evident that a reasonably prudent pedophile can indulge in his predilections for years before the human law and the law of averages catch up with him. In fact, our most extensive pedophile, who had sexual contact with hundreds of little girls and boys, died in his sixties with never an arrest and only a few 'close calls' in his case history."
The female pedophile (concerning whom we relate one case history in this book) is quite a different type of person. Usually, her reasons can be directly extrapolated to the age of her young paramour. If the male child is quite young (under 12, roughly), it is--likely we are dealing with a sexually displaced motherhood frustration, especially if the female is childless or if her children are grown and gone. If the boy is in the pubescent bracket (13-14; sometimes to 15) it is probable the older woman is reacting to doubts and insecurities dealing with her own lost youth, hoping perhaps to regain the aura of youthfulness through a combination of conquest and association; if the young man's age is 16 through 18, a different form of pedophilia becomes evident-the primary feminine motive then becomes predominantly physical. She equates his budding manhood with the highest form of available sexuality-in short, she sees her consort as a most probable stud. This type of woman should not really be regarded as a pedophile, since her motives are simple and rather forthrightly apparent. They are, for that matter, easily redirected to other, more realistic, sexual objects; hence the clinical reluctance to regard this woman's actions as aberrational.
The public view of the nymphophile is that of a vile lecher who is constantly preying on very young, very helpless girls. Sometimes, of course, this is true. More often, it is an absurdity, as is borne out by later examination and analysis of those who are detected. Very often, these men are reacting to formidable-and impossibly burdensome-psychic forces which build and build until the crescendo of unrelievable tension brinks the dam. like the fetishist, whose whole life is spent fighting off unlivable compulsions, the nymphophile is faced with dread urgings which well up, little by little, until they become the singlemost important thing in his awareness. Earlier, we quoted the Encyclopedia of Human Behavior as saying that pedophiles (nymphophiles) were often schizophrenic, etc. One is called upon to consider soberly which came first: the split personality which allowed a duality of consciences, or the tendency toward immature sexual objects which then forced the division of mental outlooks and the attenuation of certain awarenesses.
This book does not deal in the main with female pedophilia (one chapter includes this as part of a troilistic debauchery with an aunt and uncle), nor does it deal at all with homosexual pedophilia. It is, essentially, a book concerning aggressive (or at least compliant) young females. Although it takes us somewhat afield of our original topic, it will be necessary to devote the contents of one chapter analysis to this subject, since the aggression displayed in increasing measure by the "tart-teens" (and even sub-teens) of our society, serves-among other things-the purposes of the nymphophile, and acts as a dangling carrot to the near or latent nymphophile. One of the outgrowths of the philosophy of the "now" generation is the dangerously fast maturation process which effectively denies children the normal growth they need. As in the case of extremely gifted children with soaring I.Q's-they have knowledge, but not experience; thus they remain "kids," even though they may carry knowledge which would have staggered the minds of their scientist-fathers. The "school years," the quiet and sinless approach to first love, and then first sex, the slow and sure formulation of ideas and ideals-are all part of a natural scheme which can only suffer if it shrinks.
The aggressive young female is not unknown to other times in history. But the general role she plays in society has not really been played before. She is an interesting phenomenon.
We shall make other observations, of course, calling freely upon the observations of such notable writers as R.E.L. Masters and Havelock Ellis. Nymphophilia is a fairly well understood phenomenon, although, admittedly, much of the writing available is speculative. The proof is in the results, and recent records are indicating that certain forms of nymphophilia, dealt with in time, respond remarkably well to treatment.
CHAPTER ONE
Pixie Was Twelve
"I don't know if having sex with men from when I was twelve years old on up to now, when I'm sixteen, has done me any harm or not. I mean, how am I supposed to know? I don't have any way to compare. I don't think so, though. I think it helped me in a way. I mean, when I retire from the life in a couple of years I'll be pretty rich and I'll go to college and find myself a sweet guy with a good family, and I'll be set up for life. That's my mother's and my plan, anyway.
"I'm sixteen now, and my price is one hundred and fifty dollars a night, because I can pass for thirteen or fourteen with my hair in these pigtails and a good scrubbed, no makeup look. My breasts are small, too. That helps. And I haven't got any hips to speak of, and my pussy hair isn't heavy. And I'm lucky because I'm not tall. Mother is small, too, which explains that, I guess.
"I have to watch how I talk, though. I can't come on hip or tough or wise. You know. I've got to be innocent. like almost a virgin.
"That's my line-only been fucked two times before and only doing it this time to get money quick for an operation on my left foot which has a bone wrong in it and my mother is on welfare and the state won't pay for the operation, so I have to do this, but only once or twice and never again.
"I have my left shoe built so it forces me to limp. And barefoot I have to remember to limp. I never forget, either. I'm an old pro. I've got it all down pat. I do my thing about five times a week, sometimes more on the weekends and when the big conventions are in town.
"I don't want to talk about the life, especially. I do want to tell how I got stared with men when I was twelve. Listen, I was just barely twelve. Little Pixie looked about eight or nine years old, then.
"Jeeps! I've been a whore for over four years. I'd hate to have to count the prods I've sucked and had shoved up my cunt-and my ass. And the thing is, I dig it. I mean, I enjoy fucking and even sucking a good clean dick. And getting head wipes me out. I go up and off damned near every time. It doesn't take much good tongue to send me.
"I can do without an ass reaming, though. But that pays the most, so I put up with it. I put on a good act, too. But, like I said, I don't want to yak about the life.
"My getting started was pure accident, though. Mother was working at an office as a stenographer and couldn't make the money go far enough, so she got this idea of being a stenographer who would come to the big hotels at odd hours weekends and nights and do emergency jobs-take dictation and do typing-for businessmen and writers and like that.
"It was a good idea and she started getting a lot of calls.
"One night mother got a heavy call and it was late and she couldn't find anybody to leave me with. So she had to take me along. She had to leave me in the car while she went up in the hotel. It was a big one by the airport.
"About ten minutes later she came down and got me and took me to the man's suite. Mother had mentioned her problem and he insisted she bring me up.
"He was a nice old man in his fifties. Thinking back on it now, I guess he was about fifty-two. That first time-in fact, the first three or four times I did things with men are locked up in total recall. I have that kind of a brain. Mother does, too. Photographic memory. We remember everything. It can be a drag sometimes.
"I remember how he looked at me when I came in. He couldn't drag his eyes off me. He was a typical middle-aged businessman. He had a paunch and a receding hairline and crinkly blue eyes and smelled of good aftershave. I remember he had a big, heavy gold ring on his right hand. A lodge ring. And he had a plain wide gold wedding band on his left-hand third finger.
"He had a fake-out voice, though. I picked up on that right away, young as I was. He was a tire salesman and he had some 'very important last minute' reports and sales figures to go East in the morning mail.
"He lifted me up in his arms and smiled and I noticed he had three gold teeth. I'd never seen a gold tooth before. It impressed me. He breathed flavored air in my face and carried me into the bedroom and on the way he copped a feel of my ass. He plopped me on the bed and turned on the color TV and called room service and ordered a coke and some cookies he sent up for me.
"I liked him even more, then. He reminded me of my grandfather.
"I watched a Western on TV while he and mother worked. He finished dictating, left mother in the main room to type up his reports in triplicate, and came into the bedroom to see how I was doing.
"He closed the door. I heard mother's electric portable going clack-clackety-clack-clack. The TV sound was on pretty loud, too.
"I was lying on the bed. I had conscientiously taken off my shoes. I wore a blue top and a white blouse and white knee stockings. I had a small red ribbon-clip in my hair. I have auburn hair.
"His name was-I'll change it-his name was George B-, and he came right over and sat on the bed next to me.
"He asked me questions about myself, and his right hand started to smooth my top skirt on my thigh. Pretty soon, though, his hand was rubbing my leg under my skirt and he was talking soothing talk. His hand felt nice rubbing lightly on my thigh up near my panties, and his other arm was around my back, soothing my left arm, sort of distracting me.
"I had a bottle of coke in my hands, anyway. I knew he wasn't supposed to be touching me like that, hut he had provided me with the Coke and cookies-and it had cost him money! I'd seen him take out a big wad of bills and give the bellboy two of them. Mr. Baker had lots of money!
"In the meantime in the other room mother's typewriter kept on clacking away.
"George's fingers were edging onto my panties under my top. I pushed his hand. It came back.
"He said, 'I'll give you some money if you let me feel you under your panties.' " 'How much?' " 'A dollar.'
"A dollar wasn't much. I said, 'Five dollars!' I didn't expect him to give it to me. Why would an old man give me five dollars just to feel me down there?
"But he did! He took out that wad and gave me a five-dollar bill.
"I grabbed it quick and pulled me panties down for him. I gave him a good look. I lifted my top skirt up to my chin and opened my legs.
"I was skinny, then. And my pussy was all peaches and cream and a pink slit. No hair at all. Not a trace. Of course, I didn't have any breasts, either. I was just an undeveloped little girl-and that's what turned those men on.
"George was sweating. He glanced over at the door every few seconds. He had a hard on, I noticed. I knew that much.
"He said to kiss him and stick my tongue in his mouth. That was french kissing. I'd heard about it. When he kissed me I did what he wanted. I figured his five dollars was worth it.
He got tense and shivery when I did it. And at the same time he had his right hand on my bare little pussy and was feeling it with his fingers and trying to work a big, thick finger into the lips. I remember being a little scared. He was so big and strong. I was only barely twelve. I was out of my depth. This was strange, new life-territory. Especially when he did get that finger inside my slit and started exploring.
"He didn't try finger-fucking me. He didn't penetrate. But he did find my little undeveloped clitoris. The tiny 'hot place' I knew about and liked to rub myself at night, sometimes. He got his fingertip on it and started rubbing. First he put his finger to his mouth and got it loaded with saliva for lubrication. Then he put it in between my pussy lips and did a little tap-dance on that sensitive spot.
"I really started to get red in the face and started to squirm. It felt good, just like when I did it under the covers, but better, some way, because he was doing it out in the open and it was nasty.
"I got all hot and tight inside. I held my breath and it got stronger and stronger until I couldn't see straight and I was breathing like I'd been running ten blocks. For some reason George was breathing heavy, too. Well, I know why now, but then I didn't. I was a dumb little girl.
"Finally the hot, tight, good feeling went away, and I got loose inside. I took a big drink of my coke.
"George smiled. He was sweaty. He asked, 'Did you like that?' "I nodded. I blushed.
" 'Want me to make you feel good that way again, only by a different way?'
"I nodded again. How could he?
" 'Let me put my tongue in you there, and it'll feel even better.'
"I made a face. 'Your tongue?' He wanted to put his tongue down where I peed from?
" 'Yes. I'll give you more money. How about five dollars more?'
"I was astonished. I would have let him, for nothing more. I said 'Okay.' I kicked my panties all the way off. I opened my skinny legs wide.
"George got down lower on the bed, on his stomach, and kissed my pussy!
"I watched close. I almost couldn't believe it. I had two five-dollar bills crumpled up in my hot little hand.
"I was actually afraid he was going to bite me down there. But he got his mouth right down on my slit and started to work his tongue into me. And he was right ... it felt better that way. A lot better! I couldn't see how he could lick in there from where I peed, but he liked doing it. And I started to get a special ticklish sensation that made my eyes get big. And with it I got the hot, tight feeling. And it got strong! I'd never done it to myself twice in a row and I loved it. I was really surprised I could do it more than once.
"George had his mouth wide open on my whole slit and he had his tongue going up and down in it fast ... over my clitoris and over my cunt-hole and all over the inner lips and over the little hole I peed from-everywhere! I was wiggling around, squirming like a worm, it felt so good. I was breathing fast again.
"George took his mouth away from me and asked, 'Do you like it, Pixie?'
"All I could do was nod my head hard. I wanted to do it some more! My pussy was all hot and I had that tight feeling inside-all over.
"His eyes were happy. He got his mouth on me again like that and got his tongue going good, and I started to hold my breath. My body jerked a lot and I saw pinwheels. That was my first 'eating' orgasm, and it was a helluva good one. George knew what he was doing, "I got a lot of head from men that way before I was thirteen and got fucked for the first time. I got to love having a man eat me out. I went off all kinds of times during a half hour or so of that. And got paid for it, too!
"George kept on tongue-whipping my slit while I quieted down after that second come. Even while I was draining away I wanted him to do it more, so I could go off again. I even thought of asking for another five dollars. Kids learn fast.
"He was still down there with his head between my naked legs, eating my naked pussy, with my top flipped up to my waist and my panties around my left ankle-when mother walked in on us. What a heart stopper that was!
"Mother's face went through changes. So did George's. So did mine, I guess.
"Mother screamed-sort of like a banshee-and suddenly she was on top of us and clawing him good. Screaming! Wow. I was scared to death. I flew off the bed and ran into the other room. I huddled down in a chair. But I still had those two five-dollar bills tight in my fist. I heard them yelling. Mother yelling, all outraged and weeping and threatening. She was going to have him in jail. I don't know if it was legitimate or not. Not hundred percent real, I don't think. I think she got to calculating after the first shock.
"After about ten minutes of her making threats and moves toward the phone or the door, and poor George begging about his family and ruin and jail and how he'd pay her anything she wanted if she would not do anything-after a while mother started really listening and bargaining in a roundabout way.
"Poor George B-was sweating bullets. I could hear him pleading and begging and offering more and more money.
"Mother got to her greed point at four hundred. Four hundred dollars. And I heard it all. I even saw through the doorway into the bedroom-I saw him practically empty his wallet into her greedy hands. It was all the cash he had.
"Three minutes later she had me by the hand and was dragging me down the hall to the elevators.
"I kept telling her my shoes were back there in the bedroom, but she wouldn't go back. She had a funny guilty took on her face. She hadn't forgotten to take her typewriter, though.
"I expected to get a real talking-to once we got into the car. But she only wiped her eyes a little, and drove home. She didn't say a word to me about what had happened. Well-she said, 'I don't blame you, Pixie.' And the next day she kept me home from school, and didn't go to work herself, and took me downtown and bought me two new outfits and three new pairs of shoes.
"She got herself a couple new outfits, too! And we got some new furniture for the apartment. And I heard her tell the service station man she was going to bring the car around to have him put in a new battery and do some work on the something or other ... carburetor.
"She did say one thing more about what happened with George B--. She said, 'Pixie, that didn't happen. No matter what, you never did anything like that. You never let a man do that to you before! Do you understand?'
"I nodded, scared. And nothing more was said about it. Except I started to think-she never punished me for it.
"And then, a couple of months afterwards, she started taking me along on her jobs instead of leaving me with a sitter or letting me stay with a girl friend. She took me right up into the hotels, into the men's rooms, and told them she had no sitter and it was too dangerous to let me stay alone in the car.
"I started to figure out real fast what she was up to. She wanted it to happen again, so she could get a lot of money again. She dressed me real cute when she took me to the hotels. And when the man had a two-room suite she always suggested he order a coke for me to drink in the other room, 'out of the way' and she brought along comic books for me to read if the TV was in the wrong room. It was real luxury. Those were some of the best times I can remember.
"But it took a long time for it to happen again____"
There is such a commercial atmosphere generated by the foregoing narration that one easily loses sight of the topic which it explores. It would, in fact, be easier-and perhaps more profitable-to concentrate on the aspects of Faginism, the prostituting and/or exploitation of children for mercenary ends, such as when an older thief teaches a child how to pick pockets, and the like.
However, underneath the narrative lies the constant thread of nymphophilia, and throughout are found references to those things which "turn on" nymphophiles: the absence of pubic hair, the slim-almost mannish-waist of the child, the underdeveloped breasts, the innocence; all things designed, it seems, almost to perfection for the man who seeks to avoid a direct confrontation with the adult female. Nowhere in the version presented us are we led to believe that any of the (numerous?) men entertained by Pixie made an effort to have a sexual encounter with the mother. Given similar circumstances, and slightly different males, it would not be improbable at all to hear of troilistic developments which included the mother. For that matter, it seems a bit un-Faginish for the mother not to have instructed Pixie in the fine points of the "profession." Since her motives were mercenary, and since she seemed somehow to overcome her early hesitancies and scruples, it seems un--likely that she would not have at least instructed Pixie in the matter of attitudes and demeanor. As any good tradesman is aware, the asking price is immediately negotiable, regardless of the commodity.
Be that as it may, we are indeed given insights to the phenomenon of nymphophilia here, even if we must accept the difficult-to-under-stand premise that the males were somehow able to overcome their fears of the adult female in the next room. By that we mean it seems that the sexual confrontation which so frightens and inhibits the nymphophile would have been psychically activated by the mere near-presence of the mother. It might, indeed, have been a different kind of confrontation, but nevertheless the subject-after certain discovery-would be directly and acutely sexual. It is for this reason-since we have confidence in the authenticity of the narrative-that we feel ourselves leaning toward the exceptions to the accepted psychological postulates as taken in the conclusion of this book by means of a direct quotation from R.E.L. Masters. Dr. Masters, a thinker and de-bunker of considerable renown, is not quick to swallow the hackneyed psychologic cliches that more or less pervade the literature on the subject. It is he, for that matter, who insists upon the exacting term "nymphophilia" in preference to the somewhat inaccurate "pedophilia." It is with these thoughts in mind that we ask the reader to carefully examine that concluding quotation with an applying eye to this chapter. Such a comparison will doubtless give rise to second thoughts, if not a total reexamination, regarding the issue of "adult female confrontation."
An issue of some curiosity here is that Pixie "fell in" so well with the various situations. One would almost be willing to ascribe a physical hypersexuality to her, if it were not for the continuing references to monetary gain. She seemingly had heard of other young girls doing the same thing and was not against satisfying her curiosity in this respect.
Continuing with questions as to why Pixie had so little a problem (even the first time) with moral and social considerations leads us down another path. Let us try to understand Pixie's reactions in light of the responses of her mother. If we interpret correctly, the mother actually did have some minor reservations about what was happening to her daughter, even though the first incident was profited from, and even though it was not followed by a "mother-daughter" talk. We must assume from this data that the mother was actually battling with herself, and finally settled upon the usual human expedient of forgetting (sublimating, actually) the whole business. But then, she permitted the same thing to happen again. Just the fact the mother accepted another typing job under similar circumstances as the first, smacks of some pretty neat psychic engineering. So then, we can assume the mother was ambivalent about the whole thing, being able to neither desist nor promote, and eventually settling for the middle ground of self-contempt for her own weaknesses.
Although--likely so, this conclusion would certainly not have been deduced in the child's mind of Pixie. She could only-in the absence of any discussion about the events-assume acquiescence from the mother, and the expected future compliance on her own part. Thus, she was in a similar position with her mother, riding a crest of ambivalence, and being able to find no guidance.
Another contributing factor was the lack of "backfiring" incidents. We are told of no physically unwelcome events; for that matter, Pixie seems to have fallen in with most of the standard sexual practices with little difficulty. It is for this reason (notwithstanding her deflowering toward the last), that we are inclined to regard her as sexually precocious in sufficient degree as to class her an aggressor.
Plainly, the only trauma which occurred in Pixie's young life was a subtle-but possibly a very damaging-one. Only the passing years will divulge the degree of cynicism and self-hatred which centralizes about these precocious beginnings. It is not reasonable to assume that any young girl can come away scot-free from such encounters, if for no other reason than that she was deprived of her normal maturation and growing processes. There is something very necessary about the "anxious" teen years of the female in our society. It is a period of great wonderment and frustration, but these pains cannot be bypassed quite so overtly or simply.
"The second time it was a younger man. He was a writer. He had a screenplay ... or some pages of a script he had to have retyped in quadruplicate or something by the next morning for shooting.
"Mother had a big job.
"I was sent into the bedroom with my comics and the coke she had brought along this time. It was warm ... the coke was. I said so.
"He put some ice in a glass for me and poured in my coke. He was really nice. He had good white teeth and he had nice brown eyes and his hair was bushy and long. And he was skinny.
"His name was Nicholas G--. Nick had the same kind of eyes for me that George did. He couldn't seem to look away, and I think both mother and I knew it was going to happen again.
"It did-but not the way I expected. His scene wasn't eating little girls-it was getting little girls to eat him!
"Nick came into the bedroom and sure enough he closed the door behind him. He came over to the bed where I was camped, cross-legged, watching the TV.
"He said, 'Ever seen a naked man?' Flat out like that. No buildup. I guess he didn't want to waste time.
"Mother was in the other room, clacking away on her typewriter. I guess I knew what was expected of me. T guess I'm a natural whore. I said no, I never had seen a naked man. True. I started playing with my double ponytails.
" 'Want to see my prick?'
"I nodded, all wide-eyed. I was curious. I knew it would be big.
"It sure as hell was! Nick unzipped and dragged out a prod as big as any I've seen so far in my life of sin. I mean, that salami was at least eight inches! I imagine my little-girl's eyes bugged out at the sight. It was fat. Big around, and half hard. He grooved on watching w my face as he exposed himself to me, and he started pulling and hauling on the thing, covering and uncovering the big head.
"Nick came right up close to the edge of the bed and dangled that monster in front of my face. He said, 'Want to play with it? Want to touch it?'
"I couldn't breathe. I was eager to, but I had sense enough to say I'd better not. But I kept looking at it.
"Nick said, 'I'll give you a dollar to play with it.' Cheapskate. I shook my head.
"He went up to five dollars, then. And all the time that dick was hanging out in front of my face. I was curious as hell.
"I finally nodded and grabbed the five singles he handed me. I put them in my little white zip purse and reached out to touch that prod. It was moving a little with his heartbeat, and it was just about as hard as it could get when I put my little hands around it.
"It surprised me it was so warm! And thick! I was most curious about the head, and that little hole, and I wanted to see his balls. I knew men put their dicks into girls, down inside their pussy lips, but I couldn't imagine how he could possibly get that thing into any girl.
"Little did I know. Some of my heaviest tricks are with guys with King-Kong prods who want to slog it into a little girl. I've had my share of pricks with big pricks. I must have a rubber cunt.
"Nick said, 'Put the end of it in your mouth and suck it.'
"That blew my twelve-year-old mind! I shook my head violently. I didn't want him peeing in my mouth! I let go of that prod and started to move away.
"He sweet-talked me and offered more and more money, and reassured me he would never pee in my mouth if I did it. Well, he got out his wallet and took out a ten-dollar bill, then another one . ...
"A minute later I was sitting on the edge of the bed with Nick standing in front of me with his pants and shorts down to his ankles, and me with both hands full of that monster prick, and with my tongue out, licking the head.
"He told me what to do. 'Put the end in your mouth ... all the way in, Pixie. You can do it. You said you would.'
I put my lips on it and let my mouth open wider and wider and wider ... and I got the head all the way in. It tasted salty and then rubbery.
" 'That s fine, baby. Now suck it. Suck on it. And use your tongue, too. Move your tongue on it.'
"I tried to do what he wanted. I had twenty-five dollars of his in my purse, after all.
"I started to learn how to suck a man off. I couldn't get more than the head of that big prick in my mouth, but I did learn quick how to use my tongue underneath. And I used my lips a lot, too, going to and fro on it as much as I could. And I kept my hands sliding the skin on that long, fat shaft.
"Nick praised me a lot. 'Ummm ... great ... you're doing great, Pixie____' He was breathing heavy, looking down at me, watching my mouth take his dick, and my hands on it. His mouth was open, and he was sort of making movements with his tongue as I did.
"I kept waiting for mother to come in and see us. But her typewriter kept on clacking and tinging.
"My tongue and jaws started to get tired. I quit. He was really panting by then. His prod was fully hard, sticking out from his skinny middle like a pump handle. Wow, was it big! The end of it was drippy wet from my mouth.
"He said he'd give me a lot more money if I did it some more.
"Finally, I drank some of my coke and started in again. I got my lips around the head of it again and got it into my mouth good and started sucking and tonguing. I do about the same thing today, and I've got a rep as the best cocksucker in Los Angeles.
"Anyway, I was getting Nick up the line with my mouth, that first time out. He started pushing that salami deeper into my mouth. He really started to mouth-fuck me! He had his hands on my shoulders at first, then they were up on the back of my head. He was starting to get into real heavy breathing and moaning. His eyes were half closed and they had a kind of dull, hot, glare in them. And his prod was really hard! And I was getting scared! That thing was filling up my mouth and I couldn't get away from it! I didn't know what was happening.
"I was whimpering and sucking and he was groaning and starting to shake-sliding that big head deeper back into my mouth and making me gag-when mother finally came to the rescue.
"The door opened and there she was with some papers in her hand, and her eyes got big and she got pale as paper and she screamed, 'OH, MY GOD!'
It was beautiful. She put on a lovely act.
"Nick jumped like he'd been goosed by a gorilla. He got white, too, and gurgled, 'Oh, Jesus! Oh, Jesus!'
"Mother got hysterical and ordered me into the other room. She really had a wild look to her. She ran right toward the door with me. She screamed she was going straight to the police!
"Nick did his act-all sobbing for silence and money, money, money . ... He got his pants up and grabbed mother and she shrieked____ It was great. I knew she was acting and she knew it, but that was deep down. On top she was really the outraged mother! She really had herself conned.
"They both calmed down and went through the changes and came out in the end with Nick offering three hundred for silence.
"The thing is, he started to get a little wise. He'd been around. He said I sucked too good to be a first-timer. He said it was a setup, a shakedown.
"Mother got huffy and started out of the door but came back when he pleaded again.
"Anyway-Nick had been right on the edge of coming when mother came in ... and he had the guts to offer another two hundred if I'd finish him off with my mouth.
"Mother was stunned. I didn't know what he meant. What was 'coming'? What was finishing off with my mouth?
"She hesitated. She looked at me. I was huddled in a chair.
"Nick argued that I'd already sucked him for about five minutes, so what harm was a few minutes more? And for an extra two hundred . ...
"He carried it to me-he knelt in front of the chair and asked me. 'Want to do it a few minutes more for two hundred dollars?'
"Two hundred! I guess my eyes got bright and greedy. I looked up at mother and she hesitated. She was really in a bind. She had to pretend and yet she wanted the money.
"Nick said, 'It could go a long way toward putting her through college. Five hundred.'
"The clever bastard. It was the cop-out mother needed. She said, 'Well ... if ... if Pixie is willing . ... '
"They both looked down at me. I got the message. I said, 'I don't mind.'
"So Nick and I went back into the bedroom, he closed the door, and mother stayed out there and started typing again. That work did. have to be finished.
"Nick did it up brown. He got me all undressed, and he stripped off all his clothes, too. Why not? He was paying plenty and he had permission now. He could do it right and really enjoy himself.
'"I felt funny being bare-assed naked with him, and him naked, too. But I had my curiosity satisfied about a naked man, at an early age.
"Nick put his hands on me everywhere. He took his time, too. Pretty soon, with him kissing me on my tiny, undeveloped nipples, and roaming his warm hands between my legs, and fingering me on my hot spot, I started to heat up. I got to where I wanted to suck his dick again, and not just for money.
"I was fascinated by its size and how it got soft and then so big and hard, and how his balls moved around in that hairy sack.
"I started playing with him while he played with me. He was getting me hot and tight. We were laying side by side, but in the 69 position. That way I could handle him and he could finger me.
"I started flopping his big, stiff prick around, and squeezing it hard as I could, and seeing if I could bend it, and how far backward I could push it between his legs. And all the time he kept tickling me in my slit and getting me hotter and hotter and tighter and tighter inside.
"I was wriggling and squirming against him, and nearly at my peak. He didn't tell me to start sucking him again. I did it on my own. I just had to. I got that huge hunk of dick in my hands and opened my mouth and started licking the head and kissing it and rubbing my lips on it all over, all the way down to his balls, and up again, and then I pressed my lips down over and around the head.
"I took as much of it as I could and I closed my eyes and sucked hard and used my tongue hard, too.
"I was all squirmy and hot. His finger had me wet for about the first time in my life and so hot I was gasping around that big soft egg-head in my mouth.
"I liked being special to grown-up men, and being paid to have fun with them like that. I didn't understand exactly why they were willing to take chances with little girls, like with me, and pay all kinds of big money to mother just to do sex things ... but if they wanted to, okay!
"That's still the way I feel about it. Thank God for the way things are. Girls have the advantage. At least when they're young.
"Nick was doing his share of jerking around. His dick was pounding with blood and it seemed to get bigger and bigger in my mouth. I was using both my hands on it, too. He kept saying, 'That's it, Pixie-move the skin up and down like that!'
"I wasn't prepared for what happened a few seconds later.
"Nick's hips were shoving up and down, driving his dick up against the back of my mouth. My head was bouncing. I kept on sucking hard. I knew he was about where I was-all hot and tight inside and feeling that great sensation. I thought that was all there was to a man's pleasure.
"Nick's breathing got all ragged and hoarse and he started shaking. Really-he shook! All he could say was, 'Suck! Don't stop-' Then he had my head in his hands-strong hands!-and he had that dick of his halfway down my throat, I think!
"I was fighting him, trying to get air. But he wouldn't let me get away, and he kept ordering, 'Don't stop sucking!' He was crazy! Out of his mind!
"Then suddenly he sucked air in a moan and went stiff-and a great big gob of stuff shot out of his dick into my mouth-way back into my throat.
"I was paralyzed and terrified. He kept groaning and shaking and shooting his goop into my mouth. It was like raw egg and I choked on it.
"He finally let go of my head and I pulled my mouth off his prick. I let that stuff dribble out of my mouth. I was dazed ... in a kind of shock.
"Nick was taking deep breaths and talking to himself, saying it was worth it, it was worth it!
"I got away from him and ran into the bathroom, t thought I was going to puke, but I didn't. I was crying, though, and sobbing, and spitting that stuff.
"That was my very first blow job. Five hundred bucks for my mouth's virginity.
"Mother blew it on a newer car. I got a couple new dresses.
"Mother never talked about Nick or what happened. I think she was ashamed. But when I asked to go along with her on her hotel stenographic jobs after that, she just asked, 'Are you sure you want to, Pixie?'
"It was a double or triple question.
"I said, 'Yes, mother, I want .to.' And she knew I was willing to do the bit again if it developed.
"I started being affectionate with the men, climbing up on their laps, and asking questions and saying how much they reminded me of my dead daddy....
"The George and Nick scenes happened more often. Mother played her part and I did mine.
When the John wanted me to suck him off when he had me alone in the other room, I would. Then when he shot off in my mouth, poor innocent Pixie went into hysterics that brought her mother running.
"We always got at least two hundred.
"After about three times after the time with Nick, I got tired of mother spending all that money that I figured I earned.
"We had a very discreet fight about it and finally she opened a bank account in my name and put two-thirds of all the trick money into it. And I made damned sure she didn't draw any out or avoid deposits. I got smart fast. Kids can be shrewd as hell.
"I'll never lose the memory of when I lost my cherry. I was only two weeks past my thirteenth birthday. I was just beginning to get a swelling in my breasts. And I noticed a few little hairs sprouting on my pussy.
"We went to a big, expensive Beverly Hills hotel. The man was one of the fat ones I don't like. And he was a repeater. This happened. Men would call mother when they got back on business again, and figure I maybe was available since 'the damage had been done.'
"It was touchy. Mother tried to keep up her act as long as she could. But getting first-time suckers who would take a chance on messing with me in one room of a suite while she clacked away in the other room, was a rare thing, actually, even if I flirted like a whore.
"So-when old Mr. T-called her, mother hemmed and hawed and even got a little red in the face.
"She finally let me talk to him. It was to be 'Pixie's decision.'
"I told him I liked him and I wasn't mad at him for what he did to me (he'd paid me twenty dollars to give him a hand job) and I wouldn't be afraid to see him again. I said I wasn't interested in doing that nasty thing for him again, though ... except I had to have money for school clothes and mother was laid off her regular job.
"He also had a small typing job for mother, so we went over to the hotel.
"Once up in his room he wanted more than a hand job; he wanted to be the first one to fuck me. The big old fat slob in his three-hundred-dollar suit!
"It was flat-out whoring, and it bent mother's mind out of shape, that first time. But she played it perfectly, maybe without knowing it. She was weeping and carrying on ... beautiful.
"I wasn't keen on the idea of being fucked. I knew it would hurt, and I had a memory of old
Mr. T-'s prod-a thin white bone of a thing with a pink head on it and a pair of balls in a tight little gray-haired sack.
"It was a cute prod, as pricks go, but it was a good length, about six inches, and at least another inch was covered at the base with fat. Which was lucky for me. Rubber cunt or not, seven inches of that kind of a prick would have been a killer for me when I was only barely thirteen.
"Mother and he jockeyed bout money. Mother brought up my 'college fund.' T-was into a nationwide chain of furniture stores. He could afford anything.
"Finally mother came down from a thousand dollars to seven hundred. Deal.
"He sent down for champagne and cake and ice cream for me, and a coke. I wanted a cold coke.
"So we had a little party, he wrote a check, and I went into the bedroom and got naked for him.
"Mother was crying. She really was.
"He came prancing in, saw me naked on the bed, and nearly drooled. He got out of that suit and his cream-colored shirt and blue tie and nylon shorts and socks and shoes ... in quick-time.
"T-was just plain fat! He hung in folds of fat all over the place, especially his belly. He came onto the bed like a white whale. He had a hard on, too. He started fondling me and kissing me. 'Have to get you interested first, don't we?' He licked my little nipples and pressed a finger into my pussy. I could feel him-testing to see if I was still a virgin. Then he found my clit and started fingering it. 'You like that?'
"I nodded and said, 'I'd like it better if you could lick me down there.'
"He blinked. 'You are not so innocent as before, are you? Licking. Well, all right.'
"He surprised me, then. He grabbed me, grunted, and lifted me onto his chest so my legs straddled his head. He winked up at me, at my surprise. He put his big hands on my ass and pulled me closer and closer to his mouth.
"I got the idea. I giggled and wriggled forward till my naked pussy was smack up against his mouth. He inserted his tongue in my slit.
"When he started flipping his tongue in me I was on the way! Before I knew it I was squirming my pussy against his mouth, tightening my legs on his head, and breathing fast and hard from the hot wind-up feeling, like each touch of his tongue in there was winding up a big spring in my belly and each little bit of winding made it hotter.
"I knew I was going to go off and I wanted to and I wanted to enjoy it and not have him know, so he'd keep on. Also, I guess I wanted to put off getting my cherry popped. So I held my breath and shook a lot when his licking in my slit drove me over the edge. God, I loved it ... I still do love getting head.
"But old T was no fool. He knew I'd gone off. He pushed me down away from his face and smiled. 'Was it good, Pixie?'
"I blushed and nodded. He'd caught me.
" 'I'm glad. I'll do it to you again in a minute, but now I want you to turn around and do me the same.'
" 'I'm only supposed to let you . ... '
" 'This is part of it. For seven hundred dollars, Pixie, I want you to suck me, too. Or I'll stop the bank from paying the check.'
"The bastard! I turned around on his chest and grabbed his prod and bent over quick and gobbled it. I sucked good! I pumped him up and down fast. I whipped my tongue in little circles. I had him groaning and tensing up in a minute. I wasn't going to stop, either. I was going to suck him all the way. Then let him try to fuck me!
"But he was wise to that, too. He let me suck like a little maniac for a few minutes, until he really got close to shooting off. Then he pushed my head away.
" 'Now you're going to get it, Pixie. And you're going to do it to yourself.'
"He grunted and hauled me around to face him, and pushed my legs open so I was practically sitting on his prod. That thing was jumping against my left thigh. He put his hand around his prod. There was about two inches over his hand. He said, 'Raise up on your knees, Pixie, and sit on it. I'll keep it from going too deep.'
"I believed that bastard. I trusted nice old
Mr. T--. I rose up over that prod and let him get me in position, and I let myself down . ... I was scared. My heart was jumping in my chest, my mouth was dry, and I was icy and hot at the same time. I felt the pink head of his dick inside my pussy lips, and felt it pressing up against that thin curtain of tissue that was the difference between virgin and not. It started to hurt when it stretched. The more I pressed down the more it hurt. I bit my lip and couldn't bear it anymore. I started to lift up. But that rank old man quick as a flash got both his hands on my hips and pulled me down!
"Shit, I was only thirteen, and not a big girl for that age at all. I was caught by surprise. And that prick of his-that big bone-was all set, all in position . ... I didn't have any strength or leverage to resist the pull down! Suddenly I was torn open! Christ-it was like tearing off a big hangnail-live skin ripping. You know how that feels! Only a dozen or so times worse! I let out a shriek! That dick of his was goring up into my belly all the way! Just rip-slain! Suddenly I was full of prick! I could feel it all the way up into me!
"I guess my eyes bugged out. All I could feel was that thickness in me, and so far in it felt awful-terrifying! I thought sure he had gone all the way into my stomach or something! My cunt was a ring of fiery pain around his thickness. I wanted off! It hurt like hell! But he wouldn't let me go. He strained me tight down on him so he was absolutely buried in me, with that throbbing thing. And he was grunting, holding me, watching where he was in me. There was some blood. I saw it, too.
"I let out another squall and screamed for mother, but she didn't come in.
"Seven hundred dollars.
"He had my pussy squashed down on his hairy crotch so tight, I probably had close to seven inches in me. Christ-thirteen years old and I had to take it that way. A hundred dollars an inch.
"No wonder I don't really dig fucking even now.
"That old fart had his fingers digging into my naked waist to hold me in place-and his fingers hurt, too, but that was only on the fringe of my mind, then.
"He started jogging me up and down on that long bone he had sunk into me, and he was gasping away while he did it, and watching the blood smeared on his prod and on his hair. And me howling and crying. He had to have guts to keep a hard on through that. Of course I'd sucked him almost to a come only a minute before, so he was primed.
"He thumped me up and down about a dozen times and he was puffing and twisting and grunting, but with a different sound-high and squeally.
"Then I swear I felt that big dick of his squirting off in me. It jumped in me and I could feel that goop squishing out. The veins in his head were all purple and standing out like snakes. He was doing that awful grunting and groaning. Then he stopped thumping me up and down so hard on his dick, and let me go. His hands let go.
"I dragged myself off that bone and I was one big ache in the crotch and belly. I was really crying.
"Mother came in then. Maybe she had been listening and peeking. She took me into the bathroom and soothed me and washed me.
"When we left, he was asleep. Pure guts. What a bastard. I have to admire him.
"After that I mostly faked enjoyment when I was fucked, or was fucking. Lots of Johns dig having a little girl climb on top. A lot of them dig the master scene where they crush a little girl; they bang their dicks down into me like they were driving spikes.
"They paid very well, and I developed a great act.
"Mother and I worked that system until I was fifteen. Then I had a chance to work through an exclusive, high-class call-girl organization in Hollywood. They have never had a girl busted.
"I make so much bread now . ... Well, I still look about fourteen. I keep plucking out most of my pussy hairs.
"I'm making it big while I can. Then. I retire and go to college and go square and straight.
"But the man I marry has got to be great at giving me head. I can't get enough of a good, fast, smart tongue."
Society, in the course of condemning the nymphophile, sees and admits to a pitiful occurrence, and sometimes even attenuates its opprobrium of the "poor" man, after having been told repeatedly that he "cannot help himself and that he reacts pretty much mindlessly, obeying only impulse.
Here again, we might pause to wonder at the oversimplification of such sentiments. Frankly, we detect very little in the preceding narrative to indicate that any of the males had become impassioned beyond control. They certainly were aroused, and heated and pulsing to the point of spending money, and excited enough (in one instance) to negotiate for the privilege of continuing; but we fail to sense the overriding obsessiveness with which the nymphophiliac is supposedly afflicted. Here again we find ourselves taking a second look at the time-honored bromides which persist and persist.
As for Pixie, the key probably lies in the fundamental manner in which she regards what she has done, which in turn has to be influenced by the mother's view. It is simplistic to accept the stated motives (greed, need), and yet we cannot be sure what truer motives to assign.
CHAPTER TWO
A Summer at the Well
"I didn't want to do it. I told them I didn't want to do it. But they made me. They said it'd be good to get away from the farm and to meet some new people, and at least learn about living in the city. Then if I didn't like it, I could come back and be satisfied where I was. I'd at least know how the other half lived.
"I said shit on that, but it didn't do any good. It just got me an ass-strapping from my old man that damned near tore my skin off.
"I think the old fucker liked to tar my hide. I know for fuckin' sure that it gave him a hard on, 'cause I could feel it growing-that big dick of his-through his pants. He'd have me shuck off my pants and drape myself across his lap, and then he'd start wearin' the skin off my ass. I'd howl and near turn green, but he just kept whackin' the shit out of me and gettin' his prick harder and harder.
"But no matter what I said or did, they made me head for the city a week after school was out. I was to visit my aunt and uncle, they told me, and live at least for one summer like a citified kid. Christ, I wasn't looking forward to that at all. And I mean, not at all!
"I guess somehow my parents felt guilty about the way we lived. Just ten years before they had left the city themselves and bought this small sheep ranch out in the middle of nowhere. My old man always kept callin' the place we lived the 'ass-hole of the world,' but I know despite anything he said that he liked it a lot. And so did I.
"I guess one of the reasons I didn't want to leave was that I'd have to leave Amanda behind. I know this is going to sound stupid as hell, but I'd just sort of met Amanda and I didn't want to give her up. After all, by the time I got back from the city after the summer was over, Amanda would be all grown up. And she wouldn't put up with as much then.
"So on the day before I was to leave, I got my pal Joe and we headed for the barn. I always had to have Joe with me when I visited Amanda because she was getting hard as hell to handle.
"I know all you city creeps are going to laugh like hell when I tell you that Amanda is a fuckin' sheep, but shit on you. When you live in the ass-hole of the world, you do with what's available. And compared to the girls who were within fucking distance, Amanda was a real beauty.
"You see, even though I was only fourteen-just had a birthday in May as a matter-of-fact-I knew a hell of a lot about fucking. Been living with it all my life. You know, sheep fuck just about any chance they get, so I saw a lot of it.
"And my old man and old lady weren't exactly shy about letting me see them going at it.
Not that they deliberately fucked in front of me, but I saw it a lot. I'd peek through the keyhole of their bedroom, or watch from the top of the stairs when they were fucking on the couch. They'd think I was in bed, but the truth is I'd be watching that big fuckin' cock of my old man's tearin' up my old lady's cunt and beatin' myself off like mad. It was great.
"And, of course, after seein' how it was done I wanted some of that stuff for myself. But, Christ, try to find a cunt to fuck around where I lived. The few girls there were must have thought their pussies were made of gold. They just weren't about to give away any pieces.
"So, one day, Joe and I happened to come across Amanda. Cutest fuckin' little sheep you ever did see. So we experimented, and it was great.
"Either Joe or me would hold Amanda's head between our legs-I don't think she really went for the idea of getting fucked too much-and the other of us would stand behind, our pants down around our ankles. Let me tell you, I don't think there's a woman in the world who could give you any more pleasure than Amanda did.
"But the day finally came when I was scheduled to leave home. I "put up one last argument. I told the old man I didn't want to go to no fuckin' big city. I used them exact words. Now I know that it wasn't too good an argument, but it stated my case pretty well.
"The old man didn't understand my not wanting to go out and find out a little about the rest of the world, but most of all he didn't understand my using the word 'fucking' in front of him. That gave him an excuse to give me one more ass-paddling. I figured I owed him the pleasure, seein' he'd been feeding me for so long.
"So, after he whacked me a lot and I could feel his big prick jabbin' me in the belly, I climbed off his lap, satisfied that I'd been a good son.
"Mom and Dad drove me into town where I caught a bus for Reno. Then I moved over to a big-assed Greyhound that went about three hundred miles an hour. It seemed like no time at all before me and the bus was pulling into Los Angeles, California-my home away from home for three fucking lousy months.
"I didn't get off the bus in downtown Los Angeles, but stayed on the goddamned thing until it got to Hollywood. That's where I was to meet my aunt and uncle. Christ, what a rotten lookin' place that Hollywood bus station is. A whole bunch of bums sitting around, all dirty. Couldn't even use the shithouse. Went in three times and all the piss holes were filled with guys, and they all turned and looked at me, starin' like I was the prize stud bull at the county fair.
"I think I know what they was after, but I wasn't about to fool around with that shit. My old man warned me.
"Finally, my aunt and uncle showed up. My uncle looked just like my father, only younger and not so beat up from the sun, snow and wind. And, Christ, you should have seen what a looker my aunt was. Blonde hair that was real soft and smooth, and a figure that just about had me creamin' in my fuckin' pants. She was gorgeous. I thought right away that maybe this wasn't going to be such a rotten summer after all.
"On the drive to my aunt and uncle's apartment, I didn't say more than three words. I guess they chalked it up to shyness or some shit like that, but the truth of the matter is that I was too busy starin' out the car window to bother about conversation. You should have seen all the pussy walkin' around those Hollywood streets. And with just about no clothes on at all.
"In fact, this one girl was bending over, putting some packages in the back seat of her car, and I swear to Christ that she didn't have one thing on under this little skirt she had. That was the first pussy I'd ever seen-except for my old lady's-and, motherfuckin' son of a bitch, it was right on the street!
"I lntd a hard on for the whole trip to the apartment. Damned near pulled my fuckin' dick out and beat myself off, that's how exciting the whole thing was.
"I called my uncle and aunt by their real names, Dexter-do you believe that?-and Connie, so I'll do the same here. They live in this big apartment house with maybe a million apartments under one roof. Seemed like the hallways of the place stretched for miles. Don't rightly know how they found their own place.
"The thing I liked best about the place was it had a swimming pool. A real big motherfuckin' pool. With chairs that looked damned near like beds all around it. Christ, and you should have seen the cunts stretched out alongside that pool. Almost any time of the day. All you .had to do was walk a little ways from the apartment to the pool and you got more than an eyeful of young, hot pussy. Shit, it was the greatest thing in the world.
"Almost as soon as we got home, Dexter took off again. He was some sort of salesman and he spent a lot of time traveling around. And then, as soon as he was gone, Connie informs me that she's going to get into her suit and lay by the pool. She walks into the bedroom, swinging that beautiful ass of hers right in my face, and comes out in just a minute looking like the most gorgeous piece of fuckable broad you'd ever seen in your life. A little strip of cloth across her tits on top and a little strip of cloth at her pussy. Man, that suit was so small, you could see hairs peeking out at her cunt. Christ, I damned near shot off right then and there.
"She asks me if I want to go to the pool with her and of course I says yes. Shit, I would have followed her to the end of the world.
"Since I didn't have a swimsuit, she gives me one of Dexter's. Christ, I didn't know any man in the world would wear a suit that little. It didn't really cover all it was supposed to. But I put it on anyway. Hell, I was in Hollywood now. Not back at the high school swimming pool.
"I grabbed the towel she left for me and headed for the pool. Connie was stretched out already in one of them bed-chairs, all shiny with suntan lotion. God, she looked great.
"She shaded her eyes and smiled at me, looking me up and down so hard that I felt my cock start to get hard in those little pants. 'My,' she says, 'you're a big boy for you age.' With that statement, my cock got all the way hard, poking out those little pants. I had to jump in the pool, just to get away from Connie's stare. And her smile. I think she liked me.
"After I cooled off some in the water, I got down on one of those chairs next to Connie. I felt sort of embarrassed about my body. I was white as a bleached sheet, and all the other people around the pool were dark. From the sun.
"But I guess Connie liked the body. She kept making remarks about my muscles, and how I was such a big boy, and shit like that. One time she even reached over and ran her fingertips down my belly. Then back up where she tickled my nipples. Man. that about sent me straight up a wall. My cock got harder than ever, and Connie saw it, too. She just stared at my pecker and smiled. I was embarrassed again, but not as much as the first time. I just laid there and let my prick stand straight up in the air. Shit, if it didn't bother her, I sure as hell wasn't going to let it bother me.
"During the course of the afternoon a couple of friends of Connie's came over and I was introduced. All of them were fantastic-looking pussies. My mind just about exploded. They'd sit down on my chair and talk for a while. Restin' their fuckin' asses right on my leg. And a couple of times, they'd even put their hands on my legs. Even up high. You know, on my thighs. Right up near my cock. Sure they always had an excuse for doing it, like reaching to put out a cigarette in the ashtray, but they were still feelin' me up, and man, I liked it a lot.
"So you can see that I spent my first afternoon in Hollywood with a steady hard on. In fact, you might even say that I spent the whole summer with a hard on. And to think that I hadn't wanted to come. Shit, man.
"That night, Dexter came home for dinner and drops the news that he's heading out of town for three days. Connie didn't make no fuss, so I guess it was a normal type thing to happen. My only thought was I was gonna be all alone in the apartment with Connie. And that was something I was lookin' forward to, even if she was my goddamned aunt.
"I headed right for bed after we ate. After all, I'd been on the road for a while and was pretty fucking tired. There was a guest room in the apartment that was all mine.
"I pulled off my clothes and was just about ready to climb into bed when the door opens and Connie walks in. I'm standin' there in nothin' but my birthday suit, with my cock half hard like it always was, and she starts talkin' to me like there wasn't anything strange at all.
"At first, I tried to cover my prick with my hand, but when she didn't seem at all disturbed by my prick half pointin' at her, I just dropped my hand. Let her look, I thought to myself. Ain't no skin off my nose.
"And man, let me tell you, she did look, too. I caught her glancing down at my dick a couple of times while she was in the room. And let me tell you, she was pretty fuckin' interested.
"What she'd come in to tell me was that my old man had sent some money so I could buy some city clothes. And that we was goin' out the next afternoon and start doin' some buyin'. That was okay with me. I'd noticed since being in Hollywood that everything I wore sort of smelled of sheep manure, which ain't too good, I guess.
"She stayed around as long as she could and then damned if she didn't kiss me good night. And it wasn't no aunt kiss, either. I'd describe it, but I ain't so good with words. Just let me tell you that when she left that room, my cock was so hard I could barely get it under the sheet. In fact, if the truth be known, I didn't put it under the sheet. I just lay there and beat my meat until I shot come all over my belly and chest. Then I jumped into the shower, washed myself all clean and went to bed. Slept like I was dead.
"The next morning, right after breakfast, Connie and me headed out to buy some clothes. Dexter had left for San Francisco real early that morning.
"Let me tell you, there are really some weird guys workin' in those places where you buy clothes in Hollywood. I mean, like back in my home town, they got a stack of pants on a table and you pick some out that you like, try them on in the back room, and bring them out to the owner. But, in Hollywood, they damned near try them on for you. One guy stood right next to me in what they called the dressing room while I took off my own pants and put on a new pair. And let me tell you, they really want to have their pants fit you real well. Shit, they feel all around your fuckin' ass and crotch just to make sure everything is fittin' as good as it should be.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think they were coppin' some free feels. But shit, I figured that's just the way they did things in Hollywood.
"I have to admit that after I got into some new clothes, I felt a hell of a lot better. Right off I didn't feel like a fuckin' hick no more. And Connie seemed to think I looked good in what she'd bought. I was sort of proud and, if I'm honest, just a little big-headed. I looked damned good in those clothes. In fact, I was wishin' a couple of those stuck-up girls back home could've seen me. Then maybe they wouldn't be so fuckin' uppity about me gettin' into their pants.
"We had somethin' to eat and then headed back to the apartment. And back to the pool again. Only this time I had my own suit. I was just slippin' it over my knees when the door opened and Connie walks in again. Shit, was she gonna do that every time I was naked?
"She had her suit on. Well, almost on. The top was still loose. Straps hanging down, and let me tell you, I was gettin' a pretty good look at her tits. Not all of 'em, mind you, but a pretty good look all the same.
" 'I can't get this suit put together,' Connie says and then she laughs. 'Usually Dexter helps, but maybe you can while he's gone.'
"I was thinkin' under my breath that I'd like to be doin' what Dexter was supposed to be doin' in a lot of other ways-like fucking-while I walked behind her and started to help her get her suit together.
"That's when I saw that the whole fuckin' suit was hangin' open. I could see her whole fuckin' naked back, and shit, did that start the action with my prick. She had a gorgeous back. All soft and ... shit, it was beautiful. And my cock just kept getting harder and harder while I fooled around with the clip on the back.
"And then do you know what Connie did? Honest to God, she backed up against me. Her ass just sort of pushed against me. And it wasn't no accident, either, because after her ass pushed against my big hard prick, she stayed right where she was. In fact, she even moved against me a little. Back and forth.
"My hands were shakin' so much I couldn't get that fuckin' clip closed. So Connie reaches back and takes hold of my hands. She pulls my arms around her and puts my fuckin' hands right on her tits. Under the suit!
"I shot. Bigger than shit, right at that second, I shot off a load. I messed up those new trunks real good. And shit, was I embarrassed. But Connie didn't pay no attention to it at all. All she said was something about at my age I should be able to go more than once.
"She kept me standing there, my cock still pressed up against her ass and my hands on her tits. Despite not meanin' to, my hands started to move around on her tits and I started to hump her ass. Shit, I couldn't help myself. I wanted to get inside her pussy more than anything else in the world.
"Finally, after a couple of minutes of rubbin' up together like that, she turns around. She takes her top off and lets me get a look at her full tits. Shit, I near shot again.
"Then, while I'm standin' there, too excited to do anything but stare, she takes off the bottom of her suit. She was naked! All the way. And her pussy hair was sort of golden brown. She reached up and kissed me like I'd never been kissed before. Her tongue was all over the inside of my mouth. She sucked my tongue and lips and kept grindin' her naked pussy against my prick.
"All of a sudden, I knew that I was goin' to fuck her or die tryin'. I tried to think of how I'd seen my old man fuck my old lady. It was always him on top on either the bed or couch, so I pushed Connie over towards the bed. She was pretty goddamn easy to push.
"She was on her back, on the bed, her pussy just lookin' up and smilin' at me. I stripped off my suit and my prick zipped out of them pants and started throbbin' against my belly.
"Now you gotta remember that the only real experience I'd had was with Amanda, so I was sort of new to this 'on-top' position. But I got the hang of it real quick. The only problem was I tried to fuck Connie just like I had Amanda. I mean, I shoved my cock right up into her. And, Christ, she screamed like a fuckin' Indian. I pulled out fast.
" 'Slow,' she says to me. 'Go slow.'
"So I get back between her legs, feelin' her wrap those beautiful legs of hers around my waist, and then I slowly start to put my prick up her cunt. Christ, I thought Amanda felt good, but it wasn't nothin' compared with Connie! It was outa sight, what it was!
"I had my first fuck that afternoon. But believe me, it wasn't my last. That was the best summer I ever spent."
Clint, a young teenager from the country whose only sexual activity-other than masturbation-had been frequent copulation with his father's sheep, has been placed in a totally unfamiliar situation. From his narrative, it becomes readily obvious that, although he has had the desire, he has not had the opportunity to savor the sexual delights of the young female population of his own community. At the time he was transplanted to Hollywood, he was a virgin as far as heterosexual relations were concerned.
It was later revealed that Clint's parents were completely aware of his lack of heterosexual activity, and their primary reason for having sent their son to visit his aunt and uncle was to place Clint in a healthy sexual atmosphere. Having come from the city themselves, they knew that the seclusion of the country would not be as healthy an environment for their son, since he would have few opportunities to experiment with the opposite sex on the farm.
Clint's father, knowing the type of environment his brother and wife lived in, assumed that by sending Clint into it, his son would become a man there. What the father had not foreseen was his sister-in-law's predilection toward younger boys. The father's plan was to have Clint introduced to "city ways" and city girls; this plan succeeded only too well.
Connie, Clint's aunt by marriage, had come to Hollywood many years before, seeking a career in show business. She had won many beauty contests in her home town, and in her home state. Her face and her figure had always been her fortune, and she placed an extremely high value on her youthful appearance. Having had such acclaim at home, she was disappointed when she found that Hollywood was full of thousands of equally lovely young girls with exactly the same qualifications and goals. Although her career in show business was short-lived, Connie continued to harbor secret desires for stardom. Facing the reality of not becoming an overnight success, she married Dexter in order to achieve a certain amount of security.
As she and Dexter grew older, Connie never was consciously aware that she had aged. She saw her husband grow older, but, encouraged by admirers-whether falsely flattering or sincerely taken by her-she continued to picture herself as the striking young girl who had traveled to Hollywood in search of instant recognition.
Since Dexter's business frequently took him away from home, Connie was free to seek out paramours she considered more suited for her-younger men and boys. As she grew older, this preoccupation with younger lovers had become an obsession which bordered on pedophilia, although she never desired relations with anyone under the age of puberty.
In order to better understand the desire of a woman for sexual intercourse with a boy many years her junior, it might be best, at the outset, to stipulate that pedophilia, by definition, is a paraphilia wherein adults are given to desiring children as the sex object. This again brings up the question of what the definition of a child is. By law, anyone under the age of twenty-one is not yet an adult, but it would be inane to categorize all those under that age as being children. It could be assumed that all people who have not yet reached their teens are children; but although some young teenagers might also be classified as children, they are better labeled as adolescents.
So, in the strictest sense of the word, Connie is not a pedophiliac, since she prefers adolescents rather than children. But, there again, it cannot be denied that for an adult-especially one past the middle twenties-to prefer sexual intercourse with adolescents is not normal.
Probably the most significant motive behind pseudo-pedophilia with a boy of Clint's age is the desire to regain lost youth symbolically through the acquisition of youth interpersonally. The closer a woman can feel to be with the youthfulness she so cherishes (and misses), the closer she will feel that she has come to regaining it herself. In short, a great intimacy with a youth can make her feel young again.
This, of course, is a very simplistic approach to a rather complicated problem. It goes without saying that other factors invariably crop up, such as the need for the adult to play the role of parent.
It must also be noted here that although Connie was interested in males younger than herself, Clint, in this case, was no innocent bystander. His curiosity and sexual precociousness (as exemplified by the earlier explorations into bestiality) were definitely driving factors in his relationship with his aunt.
Clint, although incapable of making the first move, was exceedingly quick to take advantage of the opportunity presented to him. Without the least hesitation, he welcomed his aunt's overtures, finally fulfilling his boyish dreams of sex with a woman not unlike his mother.
"There was one thing about that first fuck I had with Connie that I forgot to tell you about. You know, after I slipped it in her pussy, real slow like she said to do, I started fuckin' her like crazy. I mean, after I once got that prick of mine shoved all the way up in her hole, she didn't seem to mind at all that I fucked her hard as I could. And I didn't actually mean to hurt her any; that's just the way I fuck. Did with Amanda, did with Connie and all the other cunts I've had since.
"Well, I banged that fucking cunt of hers for what seemed like three days, and finally, even though she was tellin' me not to, I had to come. My goddamned balls hurt so bad I thought they were going to fall off.
"I slammed into her a couple of more times and felt that hot come ready to explode out of my balls. I jerked against her, moaning like a son of a bitch, and squirted my come up in her. Oh, man, it was so beautiful I can't even start to describe it.
"She just kept layin' there squeezing the come out of my cock. I've been in a lot of pussies since, but I have to admit that there ain't many better ones than Connie's. That gal could really fuck.
"After I'd been drained, I pulled my fuckin' cock out, feelin' proud as punch. I knew I'd done a good job. But Connie wasn't about to let loose of that prick of mine. She told me later that she'd loved it. What do you think of that?
"As soon as I pulled out, Connie scrambled to her knees and, son of a bitch, she leaned over and took my prick in her month! Holy Moses, I couldn't believe that.
"I was only half hard when she started sucking on my prick like most people suck on lollipops. Christ, it felt great. And just a few seconds went by before my pecker was getting red-hot again. Hot and hard as steel. Man, Clint was gonna have his fill of fuckin' that afternoon. I knew it.
"But she didn't want prick up her pussy anymore. She wanted to suck. So who was I to stop her? I just stood there and let her do all the work. She licked and sucked on my cock, taking almost the whole fuckin' thing down her throat, and then she'd move to my balls and wash them all over with her tongue. Damn, it felt good.
"Then back to my cock, where she really started to suck. I could feel her damned near pulling the come out of me. She had her hands on my hips and was sucking hard as she could. It was just a few minutes and, damn, if I didn't shoot off another load. Right in her goddamned mouth!
"She swallowed that thick come like a person would drink down cold beer on a hot afternoon. Thought she'd never let loose of my cock. She just kept wantin' more of my come.
"Finally, I had to pull my prick out of her mouth. Her suckin' on it was botherin' me. Felt real odd. .
"She fell back on the bed and stuck her hand down between her legs. Stuck most of her fist up her pussy. She still hadn't had enough. 'Eat me out,' she says, lookin' at me with real fuzzy eyes.
"Now shit, man, I heard of eatin' out pussy. I mean, all the guys at home are always talkin' about how great it is. But shit, I didn't want to stick my mouth on that pussy I had just shot all that come into. I told her so.
" 'You wash it first,' I told her, 'and I'll eat that pussy all day.'
"She looked for a while like she was willin' to get off the bed and wash out her pussy for me. But I guess she changed her mind. 'No,' she says finally. 'I want to keep your come in me for a while.'
"I nodded. It was okay with me. If the truth be known, I was just a little tired. After all, I'd come three times within just a little while. And a guy has to be tired after that. So I told her I'd eat her pussy out later, which seemed to be okay with her.
"I left her then and went down to the pool. There were all kinds of new cunts to look at. I was just getting real smooth with this one pussy when Connie comes down. I sort of regretted having to ditch the younger pussy in favor of Connie, but what the hell, blood's thicker than water.
"I could tell right off that something was wrong. Connie was all upset about something or other. Finally, after gettin' almost no response from anything I was say in', I came right out and asked her what it was.
" 'Oh, Clint,' she says, real teary-eyed, 'I'm old enough to be your mother and here I am doing things like this with you.'
"I just shook my head. My old man had told me that women are contrary animals, and here was proof. I mean, we'd just had one hell of a fun fuck session and she was getting the worries because she was a few years older than me. I told her to forget it. All that was important, I says, was that her pussy works and my prick works. And if the two of them are happy together, why worry?
"My talkin' like that seemed to help her out some. At least she wasn't cryin' no more. And in fact, when she thought nobody was lookin', she reached over and grabbed my cock through that little suit I was wearin'. 'You're beautiful,' she says, which believe me is the first time a female ever called me 'beautiful.' It's Hollywood, I guess.
"But all that jawin' aside, do you know what happened when she grabbed me like that? Sure enough, I got one roarin' hard on. So bad that I had to go to the water. I mean, you can just lay there so long with your big prick standin' up in the air for the world to see. Right?
"Well, I jumped in the pool, hopin' the cool water would bring my prick down, and it was almost workin' when one of Connie's friends came over. She got right next to me where I was hangin' onto the end of the pool-I couldn't swim worth shit-and she started to let her body just sort of bounce against mine. I tried to turn a little so my cock wouldn't be hittin' her right in the pussy area, but when I turned, she turned. She wanted that cock. I was sure of it. And hell, she was even older than Connie. So that should have proved to Connie that there wasn't nothin' wrong about my fuckin' her.
"This old broad's name was Joan, and she was pretty old but she looked pretty good. I mean, she was fuckable, right? And she wanted it. And my prick was wantin' some more pussy.
"I looked around the pool. Most everybody, including Connie, was mindin' their own business, so I got sort of brave. I reached down and adjusted my prick, makin' sure that Joan saw what I was doing. That's all it took, man. Joan was down there with her hands in no time flat. She pulled my suit down from my prick and then grabbed it.
"Then, with her hand still around my cock, we sort of swam over to where it was a little secluded. I mean, there was a planter box there, so at least some of the people around the pool couldn't see us. And besides, the water wasn't as deep there.
"She leaned her back against the side of the pool and I watched her as she pulled the bottom of her swimsuit off. Right off, right in the water, right in front of everybody! And there I could see it. Her pussy. Just wantin' to be fucked. She was wide open and waiting!
"My prick was thumpin' and throbbin' by this time. With no more said, I just aimed my prick and sent it slidin' up her pussy. Goin' from the coolness of that water to the hotness of her cunt was really a great feeling. I stood there with my feet solid on the floor of the pool, and my hands on both sides of her head, supporting myself, and I fucked the livin' shit out of her. She groaned and moaned. Shit, it was somethin'. I thought for sure that everybody would know what was goin' on, but when I looked up a couple of times, I saw that nobody was pay in' the least attention. Even Connie was sound asleep. So I thought the hell with it and began to really enjoy that fuck. The truth is, though, either my prick was getting a little tired, or the water affected it, or else that lady's pussy was just used so fuckin' much that it was sloppy loose, but whatever, I didn't enjoy stickin' my prick in her nearly as much as I did in fuckin' Connie.
"But I finished with her. Man, by the time I was ready to shoot, she was thrashing around in that water like some big fucking trout you're about ready to pull into the boat. Wow, she sure did like to get fucked.
"I moaned once myself. I remember that. Just before I started to shoot my juice up her pussy. I moaned and lodged myself against her. Man, at that minute, I never wanted to leave her. But shit, as soon as my come was over, I wanted to get out of there. 'Cause I'll bet that even in Hollywood you can get arrested for fucking in public.
"I got my suit back on and managed to crawl out of the pool. Man, I was beat. I got in the chair and fell right off asleep. Next thing I knew, I was cold as hell. I woke up and was layin' in the shade. I must have slept for a couple of hours.
"I was all by myself by that time, so I got my stuff together and started heading for the apartment, T was feeling great, ready for another fuck with Connie, if she was willing. Or at least a pussy-eating session.
"I was heading down this one side of the pool, headin' for the back stairway that was closest to Connie and Dexter's apartment. It was kind of dark back there, and had only one apartment on the main level. Just as I was about to head up the steps, I heard this noise. Sounded like a woman groaning. At first, I thought some broad was in pain or somethin', but then I got to realize that it wasn't pain she was moanin' about. That was a getting-fucked moan. Sure as hell.
"I looked back down the hallway where the sound had come from. The door to the apartment was open, just about a foot or so. And bein' horny again, and naturally curious-like my old lady always said I was-I decided to head back and take a look. I mean, if somebody's gonna leave a door open, it's sort of an invitation for somebody else to take a little look. Right?
"So I sort of edged closer and took a look inside. Man, did I see a sight. The room was lit by a red light bulb, so you had to look sort of hard to see good what you were lookin' at. I mean, just takin' a little glance into the room wouldn't have let you see much at all. You sort of had to adjust your eyes first.
"There was this couple fuckin' on the living room floor, right in. front of the door. Well, maybe five feet from the door. They were on this big bearskin rug. Honest to God, it was a bearskin rug. And the wild thing was that he wasn't fuckin' that broad in the pussy. No way. It was the weirdest thing I'd ever seen. He was fuckin' her where she shit from. Right in the ass-hole! And he was fuckin' her just like me and Joe used to fuck Anita. I mean, the broad was on her hands and knees and he was slammin' his cock in and out of her ass-hole so fast I could barely see it. But when I looked closer, I saw that he wasn't near as big as I was.
"But he sure could fuck fast.
"That gal was moaning like a son of a bitch. Takin' that cock up her ass like she loved it a lot. Man, you should have felt the hard on I got from seein' that. I just stood there, almost in shock, and watched that guy fuck her ass-hole. He seemed to move even faster, and then he gave a big moan and pressed himself up against her ass as hard as he could. He had his whole cock all the way up into her.
"He must have been comin' up in her ass-hole because his whole body was shakin' like a leaf. And then, do you know what happened? The guy pulls his cock out of her and stands up. He looks right at me in the doorway and then walks over. I was scared, I'll tell you. Too scared even to walk away. But all the guy does is say something about my bein' a creep and he slams the door shut. Now ain't that somethin'?
"I couldn't barely wait to tell Connie about seein' that gal take cock up the ass. First time, of cburse, I'd ever seen anything like that. But seein' it sure did get me all hot and excited. In fact, I was just about ready to throw Connie on the floor and fuck her sideways. If she'd let me.
"She wouldn't. She was cookin' dinner and was too busy. Now ain't that just like a woman? No matter how much they like to get fucked, when they got somethin' else to do all ideas of getting prick up their pussy fly right out of their heads.
"But she did take the time to tell me about them people who lived downstairs. The ones who liked to ass fuck. She told me they was real weird and had orgies and things like that all the time and liked to have total strangers watchin' 'em while they fucked. They even did it with dogs, she told me. I wonder what the fuck Connie would have said if I'd told her about Amanda?
"We had a great meal and then watched some television together. Along about nine o'clock, Connie gave me my first honest-to-God hard liquor drink. I liked it a lot. She had a couple, too, and after she'd downed those, she started playin' around a little.
"She started just grabbin' for my cock. Well, I got right back and started grabbin' for her pussy. Pretty soon we was grabbin' just about anything in sight. But it was only in fun, though. I mean, neither of us were ready to get down to serious fuckin' yet.
"Along about ten o'clock she had me strip off all my clothes. And made me stand up and turn around in front of her. That sort of embarrassed me, but she kept sayin' things about how beautiful I was and all sorts like that. It turned me on. I was getting damned proud of myself. And even getting a little suntanned.
"She kept playin' around with my body, all parts of it. and finally decided she was goin' to give me what she called an 'Around the World.' Man, I didn't know anything in this whole fuckin' world could feel that good. She licked and sucked on everything I owned, and then went back for seconds. Even the bottoms of my fuckin' feet. Man, she had me in seventh heaven for almost an hour.
"And then, along about eleven o'clock, I had her in her bedroom, naked as a jaybird, stretched out on the bed on her back and I was eatin' her cunt like it was a piece of chocolate.
"At first I didn't know too much about it, but shit, eatin' pussy is easy as pie. Once you get over that first lick. And man, did I turn her on with my tongue. I'd stiffen my tongue and ram it up into her pussy and then twirl it around, licking all over the insides of her cunt. She'd squirm like crazy.
"And then she told me about her clitoris and I took that between my teeth and real gentle like I started to chew on it. Man, I thought she'd go through the roof this time. I just chewed and sucked and licked on her pussy for maybe an hour. And every time she had a come she'd tell me. As if she had to tell me! Shit, she made so much noise the whole world knew about it!
"I was still workin' on her cunt with my mouth when I heard this little noise in the living room. I pulled my head out and up long enough to ask her if she'd heard it. She said no, thatI shouldn't pay it no mind. The walls in the apartment were pretty thin, she said, so it was easy to hear things from other people's apartments.
"All I could think of when she said that was that Connie's neighbors sure were gettin' an earful.
"I stuck my face back in that gorgeous pussy and started in eating again. Man, I was really taking to this cunt-eating business. It was wild. And shit, I'd had a hard on for at least two hours. It was the best evenin' of my life.
"And then, while I'm still chewin' and lickin' and suckin' on her pussy, I sort of glanced over to my right-I wasn't able to see a hell of a lot-but I saw something that looked like a pair of legs. And, honest to Pete, I was so busy and happy at what I was doin' that I went right back to it and just forgot about what I saw. For a couple of seconds, anyway. And then it dawned on me that if there were a pair of legs standin' there, there must be somebody watchin'. I pulled my head out fuckin' quick then.
"And, Christ, guess who was standin' right alongside the bed when I pulled my face out of Connie's pussy? You're right. Dexter. My uncle Dexter. I thought I'd shit gold bricks, that's how scared I was. My whole body, inside and out, started shakin' like crazy. I could picture myself havin' the shit beat out of me-at least-or even worst havin' my balls cut off. Shit, imagine a life when you can't fuck!
"But then, when I got the guts to take a closer look at Dexter's face, it dawned on me that he didn't look mad at all. In fact, if anything he looked happy as hell. And turned on. I glanced down at his fly and, sure enough, there was this big hard cock pokin' at the pants material.
" 'You sure learn quick, don't you, Clint?' Dexter asked. And I smiled sort of sick-like and tried to answer. Shit, I'd heard stories of guys who found other guys with their wives. This guy might still kill me.
"But then he says somethin' that really took the cake. 'Let me get stripped down,' he says, 'and I'll join you.' Well, when he says that, I just about piss on the floor. That's how much it shocked me. Christ, here I was eatin' out his wife's pussy and he wants to join in! Another fuckin' new experience for Clint.
"It took no time at all for Dexter to get down to his skin. He comes over to the bed. 'Start eatin' again,' he says, 'and I'll let her work on my cock. I guess you already know she's a pretty good cocksucker.'
"I just nodded my head and stared at him. Then he got up on the bed and knelt right alongside her head. His big prick was just about ready to poke Connie's eye out when she reached over and gobbled his cock down her throat. Man, it slid down slick as oil.
"There wasn't much I could do except go back to eatin' pussy. That went on for a long time, so I couldn't see anything that was happening above me. All Connie did was mumble instead of moan. It's hard to moan when you got your mouth full of cock, I guess.
"Anyway, after a while, Dexter tells me to fuck Connie. That's just the way he said it. 'Fuck Connie now, Clint.' I looked up at him, not knowin' what the hell I should do. But r while Connie's still suckin' him off, he reaches down and spreads her fuckin' thighs even farther apart than they were.
"So, with nothin' else to do, I get up on the bed between those two beautiful thighs and I aim my cock. Slow, slow, slow. I remembered that. I inched my cock in all the way. Shit, Connie was really mumbling.
"Man, I started to fuck her like crazy. Dexter kept on encouragin' me to go faster. And you could see that he was gettin' more and more excited. And then, goddamn, if we didn't all come together. All three of us. You never heard so much fuckin' noise in your life.
"That's just the first part of my summer. Shit, someday if you've got the time, I'll tell the whole thing."
It is rather uncommon that two adults can share their views so complementarily and collaterally that a dual incest expression can take place. The views and habits of Connie and Dexter do, in effect, represent something of a moral breakdown.
There seems to be evident a great deal of candidness in Clint's report. This is a healthy sign. There are no recriminations, nor is there any self-abuse in the subject's tone. To Clint's mind, the affair was perfectly natural and good. It was not until the affair was reported, after Clint returned home, that the law stepped in. Clint had spent a very happy summer with his all too permissive relatives, learning of sexual intercourse and all the varieties of sexual pleasure they could teach him. It was not until he was brought before the authorities in the state's case against his aunt and uncle that he learned about incest and contributing to the delinquency of a minor.
CHAPTER THREE
It's the Principal of the Thing
" 'Mr. J-, Lorianne is waiting outside ... you know ... the troublemaker with the short skirts and the big mouth.' Miss P-'s almost nonexistently thin lips pursed in her well-known lemon-sucking manner as she pointed to the large wooden door I was standing on the other side of, peeking in.
" 'Thank you, Miss P--. Send her in, please,' Mr. J-, the hefty and handsome principal of my junior high school said in a rather offhanded way. It was almost as if he didn't care one way or the other whether I came in or not. I guess he'd seen too many discipline problems for one day, and one more just wasn't going to get him all that upset. That old bitch
Miss P--was hoping I'd really get it, but I knew I wasn't going to-one way or another!
"Yanking me by the arm-that's against the law, isn't it?-dried up old Miss P-hauled me before Mr. J-, and stood there, expecting to see Mr. J-pull out a cat-o'-nine-tails and flail the hell out of me, I guess. When he didn't, she just stood there almost disappointed until Mr. J dismissed her with a 'Thank you, Miss P-' and she slunk out of the room and shut the door.
" 'Well, young lady,' Mr. J-said, trying to sound as menacing as possible, but not quite making it. 'What are you in here for? Your skirt too short, your mouth too big ... what?' He was almost smiling as he said this last.
" Uh, Mr. J-, sir,' I started out, using the old humble routine, 'it was just that I was caught peeking in the boys' rest rooms, that's all.'
" 'You were what?' he asked, startled at my response. I guess he'd been expecting just about anything else but that ... from fighting to necking in the halls to smoking in the Johns ... but never peeking in at boys pissing.
" 'I was sneaking a look at the guys in their rest room, that's all,' I said, looking down at my feet in an attempt to look as innocent as possible.
" 'What in hell-uh-I mean, what in heaven's name were you doing that for, may I ask?'
Mr. J demanded more quizzically than sternly.
" 'What else? To see the guys' pricks.'
" 'Young lady! That's no way to talk!'
" 'My name is Lorianne, sir.'
" 'Yes, Lorianne. That's still no way to talk!'
" 'Sorry, sir. I didn't mean any harm. I just don't know what else to call it-just a prick is all I know what it's called. Sorry if I offended you.' I replied as sweetly as I possibly could.
" 'The proper terminology is penis, Lorianne,' the principal said in a teacher-like manner.
" 'Thank you, sir. Yes, I was just trying to see their penises, that's all.'
" 'What ever for?' he pursued.
" 'What the hell-uh-I mean, what in heaven's name do you think I was peeking for? To see them, that's all. I was just a little curious about them, that's all. You see, I was told that the younger a guy is, the smaller his prick-uh-penis is ... and I wanted to see for myself. You see, all I ever saw were big ones, and I wanted to see if my information was all correct.'
"Mr. J-just sat there, staring at me with his mouth open just a little.
" 'You see, sir, I never saw a little penis before,' I continued, 'and it just seemed the educational thing to do.'
" 'How is it that you're so up on large penises?' he asked, falling right into my trap.
" 'Cause all the penises I've ever seen have been owned by adults. I've never seen a kid's before. Don't know why, but I never have. I guess I just appeal to older men, that's all.'
"Mr. J-just sat there, blinking and staring, blinking and staring. It was quite obvious that he just didn't know how to handle the situation ... and I felt I had it well in hand.
" 'Whose penises have you seen, Lorianne?' he asked, gulping a little.
" 'Oh, lots of guys. Let's see, there was Arnie's, and Benjie's, and Malcolm's ... but you wouldn't know any of them. I mean, I hardly knew them myself, so how could you be expected to know them. They were almost total strangers to. me. But they all had one thing in common-big pricks-uh-what the hell-big pricks!'
"All the time I had been talking, I had been edging closer and closer to his desk, around the corner of it, so I was almost able to touch him. I purposely stuck my great big titties way far out, knowing full well that my choice round nipples were hard and piercing the thin material of my almost-see-through blouse. Without a bra on-I was one of the lucky ones with big boobs and an uplift that grew naturally high-I knew he could see everything I owned up there. And, that was the reason for the whole thing, anyway.
"His eyes flickered for just a moment as they dipped down to feast on my magnificent titties for just the shortest flash of a second, and then he was staring me right in the eyes again. But I knew he had seen enough to want to see more up close-so I moved in closer, pointing my precious points right at his face. Sitting down, as he was, my beautiful boobies were right at mouth level-and I could tell that he was hungry-
" 'Lorianne!' Mr. J-spat out, shocked at what I had said about big pricks. 'What are you talking about ... seeing the penises of men you hardly know? Are you trying to be cute?'
" 'Why, no sir!' I replied, edging ever closer to him, my titties protruding as far as I could shove them. 'I wouldn't put you on. I just love men with big penises-the bigger the better.'
"As I glanced down, I noticed that there was an immense bulge in Mr. J-'s pants, right where a delicious prick should be. I'm getting to him! I thought to myself. I'm really getting through to him!
" 'Uh-Lorianne-uh-' was all he could get out. His eyes were firmly focused on my brazen titties and he couldn't seem to rip them off that marvelous sight. Since my blouse was a very light beige, I knew that the deep reddish color of the area around my nipples-my swollen nipples-had to be showing through just beautifully. I pushed my chest out just a little further, just to make double sure.
" 'Yes, Mr. J--? ' I asked, real seductively.
'Is something the matter? Can I help you in some way?' All this time I was edging closer and closer till my knee was just barely touching his. My magnificent titties were just a little over a foot from his eyes-and mouth.
"His breathing was coming harder and when my knee touched his, he didn't move it, or even try to. I knew I had him right where I wanted him. It was just a matter of minutes till I had what I'd come after ... his prick.
"'Uhhhhh ... oh, God!' he moaned, as his hands slowly came up towards my waiting titties. He was getting ready to fight a losing battle with himself, and his hands and prick were winning out. The bulge in his pants was actually moving. It was throbbing with a strong beat, pulsing up and down within the fabric. I smiled as I leaned forward to meet the greedy hands.
"As his fingers brushed my ripe nipples and grabbed hold of the fleshy mounds, I was leaning over far enough to barely touch the top of his gigantic erection. He moaned even louder when I caught the tip of the head of his monstrous prick between my fingers and thumb" and squeezed it gently but firmly. It was going just as I had planned it would. He was mine!
"His hands were fondling my sexy flesh with a passion and I had a good grip on his prick through his pants ... and I was leaning over far enough so that I could scramble for his zipper. It almost undid itself ... his erection was pushing it down in an effort to be released. As the metal slipped down the last inch, one of the hugest pricks I have ever seen flung itself up at me with a powerful lunge. I grasped it in my hand and began jerking on it for all I was worth.
"As I was playing with his naked prick, Mr. J-was frantically unbuttoning my blouse.
He was ready to rip that blouse off me if the buttons didn't come undone fast enough. Fortunately, the last button popped open of its own accord, and my beauties bounced out at him, bare and proud. Another moan followed as he grabbed me and stuffed one of the full titties into his mouth with a hunger I recognized. I stood there and let him fondle my boobies and suck on one of them while I passionately moved his monster of a prick up and down.
"The juices in my cunt were almost to the boiling point by this time, and I really wanted a good fucking ... and I knew I was going to get it right soon. Since I had planned this all out in advance, I had left my panties in my purse in my locker. I had purposely worn a skirt a little longer than usual so that it would hide my lovely fluff of cunt hair.
"Moving with a suddenness that took him completely off guard, I swung my leg up over his lap and guided his tremendous erection right to my cunt hole. There was nothing left for me to do but to push down hard. And that's exactly what I did! Down I went! Hard! And up he went-hard! Man, what a prick! That goddamned motherfucking prick was all the way up to my tonsils and still going! It filled all of me and left no room for a breath of air! I was dying with ecstasy!
"He almost yowled out loud when my juicy cunt pounced on his unsuspecting prick, but I was prepared for that and clamped my mouth down hard on his. I shoved my tongue into his hot mouth before he could have a chance to close it, and I met his tongue. They mingled there for a moment while I got the feel of his prick up inside me. Then, when I knew where I was and what was inside me, I sucked on his lips a bit, then leaned way back so he could get a good hold on my tits once more.
"Up and down I went-pumping like crazy. That fucking prick inside of me was such a tight fit that I was almost hollering myself. I could barely stand the beautiful feeling I was getting down there. Then the sensation of both of my nipples being squeezed hard-real hard-doubled the pleasure I was already receiving. I was almost jumping up and down from the pure pleasure of it all as I pumped away on his prick. We were really grooving by this time, and he was really into it good.
"He was slumped down real low in his chair so that all of his prick would slip up into my juiciness when I slammed down on him. Man, you could tell from the look on his face that he was really enjoying himself! His eyes were all glazed over and his mouth was hanging open and he was breathing so hard that I could feel it hot on my face. He kept moaning while he was molding and squeezing my titties good and hard, and that made me moan all the louder, but not loud enough to bring the rest of the school piling in to see what was going on. I've never lost my cool that way. I always know just what I'm doing ... and why.
"I could tell that he was really hanging on, trying to make it last as long as possible before shooting off, so I decided to really give him a treat. I began wiggling my hips around in a circular motion like I had been taught by one of my older boyfriends. Around and around I sent my hips, and that seemed to cause even more friction down there between us and inside me. It was doing wonders for us both ... for his stiff rod and for my cunt and clit. His staff was rubbing on my clit every time I went up and down, and when I circled as well, it was really putting pressure and pleasure on that little sex button of mine!
"Christ, there is nothing in this world like a great big, stiff hunk of meat up your cunt! Really! That's all there is to life-almost. And I was really living! That giant-sized prick felt exactly like a telephone pole up my quivering cunt, and I wasn't sure that I could hold out much longer. But, then again, I figured, why should I prolong it too much-there'd be other times-lots of other times!
"With a frenzy, I pounded that beautiful fucking prick in and out of my fiery cunt until I could feel that marvelous buzz that comes just before I come. Everything inside my head started to get really tight ... then my hearing started to go ... and when I started to hold my breath, I knew that this was going to be it.
"Just as I took that huge gulp of air that signaled my flight off into outer space, I caught a glimpse of my fucking lover-and he was gulping in one last gasp of air, too. We were both about to go on a flight together. Every nerve in my body was set, ready to go, and Mr. J-'s muscles were tensing in anticipation. From that moment on there was nothing but sensation-pure sensation. I couldn't hear anything or see anything ... all I could do was feel! And all I could feel was me-only me there, hung up on this telephone pole by my cunt.
"With all the fury of a volcano erupting, my entire body shook. Sparks of flashing lights of brilliant colors and hues blazed from behind my eyelids, and my legs and hips jerked and twitched violently till I thought I was going to go out of my skull. It was beautiful! Just as my throbbing cunt began to slow its squeezing of that marvelous prick, I felt the tension of that monster within me suddenly release itself. With a force I would never have believed possible, spurt after spurt of come pounded at the back of my cunt, causing me to start that beautiful climb up the mountain of sensation all over again. I was still coming when I felt his last little jerk before he collapsed in his chair, a puddle of satisfied flesh.
"Leaning over, I planted a juicy kiss on his relaxed lips, and he barely had the strength to return it. He was breathing so hard that he couldn't kiss me for more than a moment or two before pulling away to gasp for air. I got the idea and began kissing him all over his handsome, sweaty face. He was so gorgeous like that, all worn out and drained. I felt a pleasant stirring within me-almost a motherly feeling. I wanted to take this glorious creature home with me and fuck the living hell out of him for ever and ever.
"I could feel his mammoth prick start its descent down my cunt, shrinking within me, pulling itself down. I wanted to keep it up there, but there was no way to fight gravity and nature, so I carefully climbed off his lap, and grabbed for the kleenex on his desk. Slapping several wadded-up tissues up between my legs to keep the hot come from dribbling down my legs, I began buttoning up my blouse.
"Mr. J just sat there, his legs still spread wide apart and the head of his fast-disappearing prick sticking up out of his fly. His head was still hanging back and his arms were drooping limply over the arms of his chair. Man, I had really done him in but good! A fleeting thought passed through my mind as I wondered how long it would take before he was all revived and ready to go again. But I knew enough to realize that this was not the time or the place to find out. That would come later-and so would we!
"Finally, he opened his eyes and stared into mine. In all this time, I had never bothered to notice just how lovely his big blue-gray eyes were. There were flecks of gold and green there, too. How truly beautiful this man was! There wasn't that much gray in his hair-it was still really very brown, but that brown wasn't just any ordinary brown. It was like reddish, goldish, chestnut brown, and it suited his flushed complexion. I had always dug men with reddish hair-not the real redheads, but a reddish tinge. That was nice.
"I was smiling at him as his puzzled eyes stared right into mine. It was as if he were trying to work mental telepathy on me-asking me why? I just sat there on the edge of his desk and grinned back at him, waiting for him to say something.
"Finally, he did. 'Why?' was all he could come up with, and it hadn't really been necessary because I had already read that in his gorgeous eyes. When he repeated it, I decided I might as well give him an answer-he deserved that much for all the pleasure he had given me.
" 'Because I like men with big pricks! Why else?' I replied with a smirk.
" 'Why me?' he gasped out, still panting from the exertion of the fucking.
" 'From such a brainy guy as you, that's a pretty dumb question!' I retorted, almost disappointed in my new lover.
"There was a no-nonsense look on his face, so I decided I might as well give him the whole story. 'You see, Mr. J-, by the way, what the hell is your first name, anyway?'
" 'Craig,' he blurted out before he realized that students aren't allowed to know or use the first names of faculty members.
" 'Well, Craig, it's like this.' I cleared my throat and looked him square in the eye. 'As I said before, I dig men with big pricks-men, that is. And you're the best-looking man in the whole school. There's no getting away from that. Besides, I figured that if I got you to fuck me, then I'd have like a hold on you-am I right?'
"His face flushed and he opened his mouth to speak, but I daintily placed my hand over his lips and continued: 'You see, I need things-clothes, jewelry, stuff like that-and I figure that now that you've fucked me and I can prove it-one call to Miss P-out there is all that it'll take, and you've had it, but good-you might just be willing to chip in to the Lorianne
M-fund for underprivileged orphans. It's as simple as that. Plus,' I hastened to add, 'there'll be all kinds of fringe benefits for your bread. I mean, this won't have to be the last time we have fun and games. There can be all the fucking in the world between us. That's your end of it-that's what you'll get out of it.
" 'I figure, even if you're married, where can you get pussy like mine? Your wife ought to be just about your age by now, and her cunt ought to be pretty sloppy and loose. I offer you a tight, young cunt that'll hold up for a long time. And all you have to give in return is your magnificent prick and a little bread on the side. That sounds fair, doesn't it?' I was talking real fast so he couldn't stop me before it had all sunk in and he made the wrong choice in a hurry.
" 'Before you make any snap decisions, just let the whole idea sink in, Craig. It's not like I'm blackmailing you or anything. I'm just trading you pleasure for pleasure ... dig? You give me bread to buy my pleasures, and I'll let you use my cunt for your kind of pleasures ... tit for tat.'
" 'Of all the ... I never ... I can't believe this is actually ... my God! Lorianne! Do you realize what you're saying? What you're asking? What you mean? Lorianne!' He was so flustered that he just couldn't get his words all straight. And here he was such a bright guy. But, this was the normal reaction from most of the guys I had propositioned this way. It just took a little getting used to, that's all.
" 'Now, Craig, please calm down. Think about it! It could work out just fine. You like my big tits, don't you? And my cunt was nice and tight and juicy, wasn't it?' He was nodding ever so slightly in answer to these questions. 'Well, what the hell! Would you rather I pull out the kleenex and yell for Miss P-- ... and show her the come-your come-dripping down my legs? That'd end your lovely career. They'd never let you near kids ever again. Man, your wife might even leave you! You got a career and a family-I presume-to think about before you go and make the wrong decision. Just think on that for a bit, before you give me an answer.'
"Craig's face got all screwed up and I could see color starting to rise up from below his collar as his face began to flush again. He really didn't know whether to really blow his cool, or cool it. Actually, I hadn't left him much choice, and he knew it. Or, if he was thinking straight, he knew it. If he blew his cool, we'd both had it ... but I had sized him up as a pretty smart guy, and I was fairly sure that he was going to take me up on my proposition after he got used to the idea. It always took awhile.
"Finally, the redness began to leave his face and the beginnings of a smile started to crack at the corners of his wide mouth. Then his blue-gray eyes started to crinkle a little at the edges and underneath, and before I knew it, my handsome Craig was grinning from ear to ear. Before I realized it, he was actually laughing! Laughing! That had never happened before! I'd had many responses, but never broad laughter!
"I stood there, leaning against his desk, my mouth hanging open a little as he said, 'Lorianne! You really are the one! I have never run into anything like you in all my years of teaching, counseling, and principaling. You are really something else altogether! And you're just what I've been looking for! Exactly! You little minx! You had me pegged, all right. I do have a wife with a loose and sloppy cunt whom I'd like to trade in on two twenties-but one fifteen-year-old would do even better! With you in my pocket I'd never have to worry about jealousy or your forcing me to marry you. All you want out of me is a little spending money-bread, you call it-and you'll give me everything I've been searching for, for these last few years.'
"His words stunned me and took me completely off balance. His reaction was the last type of reaction I could have expected. Some of the men I had propositioned had given in for one reason or another, but none had been as elated as Craig. It was almost too good to be true, and I wasn't too sure that he might not be laying some sort of a trap for me-after the trap I had laid for him. But the look on his face and the ring of his words seemed too genuine to be false: there was truth in his eyes and his voice-and his words made a lot of sense. Man, had I made it or had I made it? Here I had hooked the principal of the whole fucking junior high school! Man, if only there was somebody I could share this with-but I never had anyone I could really rap with anyway.
"Craig, seeing that my facial expression had changed from one of cocksure victor to dumbstruck victor, laughed hard and loud. So loud, in fact, that Miss P-'s shadow appeared through a crack in the doorway as she swung the heavy wooden door open. With acute hearing like that, it was a wonder that she hadn't heard our panting and moaning and barged in to investigate long ago! But, I guess, of all the noises she had expected to hear coming from that room, laughter-especially the principal's-was the last thing she had expected. Her sour-lemon look told us both as much.
" 'Anything I can do for you, Mr. J--? ' she said, wrinkling her nose up as if smelling something rancid.
" 'No, Miss P-, thank you. Everything is completely under control here. Lorianne has explained herself to my total satisfaction and everything is fine-just fine.' "
Sometimes, in the course of listening to, or studying, a psychologic case history, one comes to wonder at the role each party really plays.
For instance, this history makes us immediately wonder who is the victim and who is the hunter. Of course, it is a relationship from which both parties derive some benefit and satisfaction, but it remains unclear whether the ordinarily assessed culpability might not be misplaced.
Consider it in this light: when one considers the nature of our schooling system, and particularly the manner in which schools accept responsibility while parents temporarily abdicate it, one becomes keenly locked into thoughts concerning the concept of authority. Especially in public schools the teacher is charged with many burdens, some of which are in no way related to academics-he or she must wear several hats, and must do so in a friendly, useful, firm, and convincing manner. Concomitantly, he or she must be certain never to compromise the authoritarian role.
If all this applies to the teacher, what then are the rules governing principals of schools? If the schoolteacher is in a very delicate position, is not the principal's role that much more ticklish? The vulnerability of his position is matched only by its strategic value. From his efforts will be determined the general atmosphere of the school and, indirectly, the success or failure of his charges.
And on and on. The trust and responsibility that society and the community places in the principal of a school cannot be overstressed-especially in a framing such as faces us here.
First, let us stress the uniqueness of this situation. As a preliminary and very general statement, it can be said that the incidence of teacher-student sexuality is quite small. Classroom proximity as well as other elements of a fusing nature are always present, and the whole world knows that young girls periodically get "crushes" on their teachers, but consummation is quite another matter. Fear, if nothing else, negates most of the possibilities; common sense usually comes to rescue those teetering on the brink of such an affair, and where fear has failed. Although society might like to believe such things, it seems that morality runs a poor race here as a deterrent. For that matter, most modern outlooks do not admit to a quid pro quo immorality inherent in sexual liaisons just on the basis of an age difference, barring outright misuse of a child. Modern home-grown ethicists are more--likely to consider it immoral for a true love to be thwarted on such flimsy ground as an age difference.
In Lorianne's case, the final relationship is understandable. Despite the sometimes unfeeling callousness of the girl, there seems to emerge some of the naturalness and warmth one might expect from a maturing relationship which began as an outright seduction on the part of a scheming girl, and which later found a measure of meaning and fulfillment-and even faithfulness-as an outgrowth of understanding and feeling. It isn't exactly Elizabeth and Robert Browning revisited, but a definite mutuality of respect and closeness does develop, and against exacting odds.
The point here is that a rather sinister and mercenary motivation on the part of Lorianne-as is plainly evident at this point-requires some nature of absolute upheaval to be transformed into the type of thing it finally becomes (a self-denying, somewhat altruistic-even noble-withdrawal). It is difficult, to understand such a reconstruction in such a cynical and obsessed girl. At root it is first probable that Lorianne was a social reject-in her family or with her peers-and had earlier reacted in a misanthropic manner. It is--likely that all of her acts were acts of rebellion. But in her case, she did not have safety valves to fall back on-in the form of compeer relationships-because when she rejected the world, she rejected all of it, young and old alike. She then was forced to fend for herself-phychically-much as a jungle animal must search out food. Having no persons in whom to invest psychic energy (in her quest for understanding, among other needs), she then did what so many misanthropic adults do: she invested her energies in situations and substitute interests. Among the sparks that were kindled in the process of investigating these avenues of substitution was that concerning retributive possibilities among adults, especially authoritarian figures. Being intelligent, imaginative, and adventuresome, it was only a matter of time before she discovered that sex was a vehicle by which she could strike back at those (figuratively) who had rejected her at the outset.
Returning to the narrative, we suggest that the reader take careful note of the changing tone and texture of Lorianne's comments. To our ear, it appears that she softens, even as the narrative progresses.
" 'Tell me, my little sweetheart, how did you ever become so wrapped up in older men?' Craig asked me as we lolled in the shade under the big umbrella.
" 'Do you really want to know?' I asked, teasingly, looking Up at the huge motel sign in the distance that was flickering a little. I wondered why the managers had the neon on in the daytime, but it was only a fleeting thought and it passed as fast as it had come.
"Craig squinted at me as he removed his sunglasses long enough to wipe some of the accumulated sweat from his brow and the bridge of his nose before replacing them. 'You know that I'm very, very interested. Please tell me. How many times a week do I have to ask that question? I keep asking it because I know that sooner or later you're going to get fed up with my asking it, and finally answer it.' He grinned his big toothy grin that I had come to love so dearly and waited for me to give in and confess all.
"I stared into the still waters of the empty swimming pool only a few feet from where we lay and mulled over my answer. We had been registering at this same motel every weekend for the past four weeks, and it always puzzled me that nobody ever took advantage of the cool waters of the pool. There were cars parked at the doors to the motel rooms, but I never saw anyone at the pool. Craig and I always seemed to have the pool to ourselves every weekend-which was just as well-perfect, in fact. Although we were registered as father and daughter, we had the privacy of honeymooners-and took advantage of it.
" 'Okay, Craig, baby, you want to know-I'll tell you. But I don't want any sympathy now or later. If it wasn't for my background, remember, I wouldn't be here with you right this very moment. Just keep that in mind,' I admonished lovingly.
"Craig shook his head to let me know that he would comply with my wishes, and then stretched out fully on his chaise lounge, his eyes closed, and waited for me to begin.
"Self-consciously, I coughed once or twice and then said, 'Hell, how should I start? How about ... 'Once upon a time' would that do?'
"Craig chuckled quietly and waited, never turning his head, just lying there with his tanned arms under his head. A strong surge of love raced through me as I stared at his evenly bronzed, muscular body. How lucky I am, I mused. How damned lucky to have you, you big lunk! Do you know just how much I really love you? Do you have any idea? More important-do you love me? Shaking my head as if to rid it of these thoughts, I tried to get myself back to the question at hand-the question of how I started fucking men.
" 'Uh-well-actually, you know a little of it already. You know about my parents and how they died in that airplane crash, and how there wasn't any money because my father didn't believe in life insurance or any other kind of insurance. You know that I was one of six children who was left orphaned ... and how we all got split up and sent to different foster homes because of a fight between all my aunts and uncles as to who was going to get which of us. What they all didn't realize was that while they were battling it all out in court for the right to take us into their homes, we were being shuttled around from one foster home to another. By the time they finally settled the whole thing, the damage had been done.
" 'Oh, don't get me wrong,' I continued. 'All of us kids appreciated the fact that they wanted us enough to go to court over us, but it took so long that it was a hardship on all of us. It would have been better if one or two of the relatives had decided to let the others have us-that way we would have all stayed together. But, no ... fight, fight, fight! And I got me a love of adult pricks out of the deal.
" 'It all really started in the first foster home I was placed in. Mr. L-was a real sex maniac. Man, you should have seen his prick! No wonder it was always on his mind-it was long enough and thick enough! And it was all uncircumcised, and it was mammoth! The first time I saw it was when Mrs. L-went to the store for a whole bunch of groceries and he knew she was going to be gone for one helluva long time. The other kids-his and the other foster kid staying there-were all out visiting neighbors or playing outside, so I was the only kid inside.'
"I glanced back at Craig to make sure he wasn't sleeping, and then went out: 'Well, I was only five at the time, and I had never seen a prick before, having had all sisters except for my big brother who had never exposed himself to any of us girls. Anyway, Mr. L-knew he had me all to himself, 'cause I had had a cold and couldn't leave the house. I had to stay inside. I was in my room playing when I heard him walking down the hallway toward my room.
When I looked up, I not only saw Mr. L standing there in the doorway, I saw Mr. L-'s prick sticking straight out from a hole in his pants ... his fly, of course-but I didn't know that then.
" 'I wasn't afraid or anything . ... I didn't know enough to be frightened then. I was very curious about what that fleshy thing was that was protruding from his pants, and he was equally as interested in showing it to me. In fact, he came right over to me and asked me if I wanted to touch it. I was thrilled by the prospect. It was so big and long and it looked like it would be a whole lot of fun to play with. And it was. It had a whole bunch of slippery skin that slipped and slid up and down the length of it, and I was completely fascinated by the look of it and the feel of it.'
"As I continued with my life's story, Craig's mouth was turning down a little, as if he were sad or something. I couldn't see his eyes. The more I went on, the sadder his face got. In fact, it was almost making me unhappy, remembering it all. My mind went back so that I was almost reliving it all. I saw that Mr. L-and his long floppy prick. I could almost feel it in my hand. And he was talking to me.
" 'Hey, Lorianne, you wanna play with it? I mean, really play with it?' he was saying to me.
" 'Sure,' I said, completely innocent of what he actually wanted.
"His hands went around mine, which were gripping the stiffening flesh, and he slowly showed me how to jack him off. After he had had me jerk him for a little while, he asked me if I wanted to taste it. I knew that that was where he pissed from, so I was rather hesitant. But he seemed to sense that I was thinking about that and told me that I had nothing to worry about-he always washed it off every day-and he was very clean. That seemed to make all the difference in the world.
"Somehow, I liked the idea of tasting his prick-even then. I stuck my tongue out and gingerly brushed the tip of the round knob of a head. His whole body jerked and I pulled away fast, afraid that I'd done something wrong.
" 'Don't go away,' he said hurriedly. 'Come on, Lorianne, it felt real good when you licked it. How did it taste? Was it good?'
"I nodded my head and moved closer, sticking out my tongue to give that huge prick another lick. As my moist tongue passed over his knob again, his hands went behind my head and held me in place so that when his body shuddered again, I wouldn't be able to move back. But I was already prepared for that shiver, and stayed right where I was, happy in the thought that I was giving him pleasure. His prick tasted sort of nice, salty and fleshy, almost like when I sucked my thumb ... except much better.
" 'Go ahead, Lorianne, suck on it,' Mr. L said, almost like he had read my mind or something.
" 'Ummmm,' I replied, slipping my lips over his fat, rosy prick head, enjoying the texture and taste of it. His hands were still behind my head, and they began to push even more than before-not just holding my head in place, but actually shoving it forward toward that great big erection of his.
"Taking it in both my hands, I slipped more of it into my warm, watery mouth and wriggled my tongue all around it. Mr. L-gritted his teeth and groaned right out loud. I knew from the sounds he was making that I was really making him feel good-very good. So I continued to do what I'd been doing, only more so. I tried to get imagine, but really didn't know what to do ... but I tried.
"Then Mr. L-took one of his hands away from the back of my head and touched me down between my legs. That made my body jerk just like his had before. It was then that I began to understand what he had felt when I first touched the tip of the prick head with my tongue. It was a glorious feeling and I wanted it to go on forever.
"His fingers were pulling their way underneath my panty elastic, and then plunged into the warmth and wetness of my little girl cunt. Tingles went all through me, and I was so excited that I could barely stand still. I wanted to cry out with the joy of it all, but I had a mouth full of delicious prick and was enjoying sucking on it, although it kept getting bigger and bigger all the time.
" 'Oh, go to it, Lorianne-suck the living hell outta that fucking prick of mine! Oh, shit! Suck harder!' Mr. L-was moaning out loud. Some of the words I didn't really know back then, but I remembered them, anyway. And now, of course, I realize just what he was saying. It's funny how you can remember things so clearly like that.
"Anyway, his fingers inside my slit were going a mile a minute and I felt this wonderful feeling like something inside me was going to explode at any moment ... and Mr. L-was really moaning and groaning louder and louder ... and his body was getting all stiff and rigid like something was going to happen with him, too. His hands on the back of my head were pressing my face into his groin so hard that his whole huge prick was practically all the way down my throat with no way for me to get free. I was past the point of gagging or choking.
"I was just feeling-feeling so wonderful that the prick in my mouth (and halfway down my throat)-just added to the sensation of his fingers down inside my slit. It all felt like that was the way it should be. And then I began to feel like I was being lifted up ... higher and higher. My hearing started to go out, like I was hearing everything from a long ways away, and I held my breath, anticipating my very first orgasm ... only I didn't know about it until it had actually happened.
"But, just before my entire body was about to go off into orbit, his giant-sized prick shot out this load of come that just simply poured down my throat. I didn't even get to taste it until that prick started to shrink up a bit and dribbled a little onto my tongue. Before that, it was so far back in my mouth that it actually bypassed my tongue and there was no taste ... just the sensation of someone coming inside.
"And then it was my turn to come! And did I ever! It was so exciting and glorious that I just wanted to hang on the ends of his miraculous fingers for the rest of my natural life! I felt my hips jerking and twitching, and my whole in-sides just did flip flops. I moaned with his prick still inside my mouth, and the moan blasted out through my nose ... and I almost bit down.
When Mr. L-felt my jaws start to tighten up, he pulled his shrinking prick out right fast before I did any harm to him. Hell, the way I came, I wouldn't have known if I was biting him or not.
Well, after that first little episode with Mr.
L-, he would wait for any opportunity to get me alone for a little sucking. I guess I was too young yet for a fucking ... or he would have done it. But he didn't have me to enjoy for too long, 'cause the authorities moved me to another foster home ... and it was just like the first one. The only thing that had changed were the faces on the people-the bodies and the pricks were just the same.
"This time there were two men-Mr. T and his oldest son, Ticky, who was over twenty-one. The two of them would get me alone and have a ball with me. I was starting to get titties and everything. In fact, I had spotted a hair or two on my cunt and under my arms and was really ecstatic about it. That meant that I would be ready for fucking pretty soon. But, in the meantime, Ticky and Mr. T-were fucking me in the ass. They both told me that that was almost as good and it wouldn't even get me pregnant, which was true.
"One nice thing about living with them. Ticky could come and slip into bed with me any time he wanted to. He didn't have to worry about Mrs. T-, like Mr. T-did. And, at this foster home, I was such a little 'princess' that I had my own bedroom-where I could entertain my gentlemen friends. And there sure was a lot of entertaining going on! Ticky was in my room almost every night, and Mr. T-was in there every time his wife would go off with the rest of the little kids. And I was learning to enjoy all this attention more and more. Never having had a father of my own-one that I could remember all that well-and needing male companionship and attention, I had it all right. The boys at school just never measured up, they were all too silly, and didn't even know what girls were for!
"Ticky was so cute, the way he'd sneak up on me while I was lying there in bed at night. He'd climb up from the foot of the bed, under the covers, till he reached my cunt. Then he'd dip his long, sexy tongue under my nightie and plunge it deep into my waiting slit. I'd pretend I didn't know he was there until I felt that first tingle of pleasure ... then I'd wrap my legs around his head and hold onto him like a vise. With that, Ticky would stick his whole face into my crotch and waggle his tongue around until I wanted to scream with the extreme sensations he was producing with his marvelous mouth.
"After he'd eaten me for a long while-but before I could come-he'd climb up and flip me on my side so he could slide that great big prick of his into my ass-hole. He always had some vaseline handy for that, 'cause his prick would never be able to get in otherwise. Boy, that would feel too great! I would be ready to holler out loud when his jumbo prick shoved its way past the hole itself and plowed right up into my body. It felt so beautiful! Then he'd bring his hand around to the front and play with my throbbing clit while he was fucking my rear. Ticky was a doll! And so was his father, but his father couldn't last as long as Ticky-and the longer the fucking and fun lasted, the better, naturally.
"One time, I actually had them both at the same time! I really did! They still weren't fucking me yet, or I might have had one in each hole, but this time I had one in my ass-hole and one in my mouth. That was really too great, but we all knew we couldn't do that for long, 'cause there was more chance of one of them being missed and looked for-and it was difficult for both of them to get away, anyway.
"I got switched to another foster home-after a stay in juvenile hall-after Mrs. T walked in on Ticky and Mr. T-and me having a backwards-forwards fucking ball together. Man, you should have seen the look on Mrs. T-'s face when she saw the three of us all tangled up together! She screamed bloody murder and damn near tore Mr. T-'s prick clear off!
"As I neared the finish of my life up till I had met my dearest Craig, I could see that his mouth was really turned down at the corner-she was almost angry or something. But, I had just a little bit left to go.
" 'So, you see, Craig, honey, I was just shipped from one foster home to the next, and every single foster home had a man-an adult-with a big prick that was just waiting for me to enjoy. As you know, honey, I'm with a foster family right now. Lucky, at that. If I were with a real family-my own family-I wouldn't probably be allowed to go away every weekend. But the foster family I'm with now really don't care much about me one way or another-just as long as the county pays the bills for me.
" 'And I learned-way back with Mr. L-, that if I let them play with me and if I played with them, then they'd always give me nice things. Mr. L-gave me mostly candy and junk like that-what did I know back then about the good things of life! Can you imagine! A blow job for a lollipop! Hey, a sucker for a sucker! How about that!'
"But Craig didn't laugh at my pun. He just lay there on that chaise lounge, his eyes closed, his face straight ahead. I could see that he was frowning real hard. I ran my hand over his beautiful chest and leaned over to kiss his arm.
" 'It wasn't until Ticky started bringing me shiny pieces of jewelry, and Mr. T-started buying me blouses and scarves that I realized that there could be any real profit to this whole thing. And then, I really began to enjoy sex with the older men! And why not? I knew damn well that if I hadn't let them fuck me in the ass-hole or if I hadn't sucked them off, they never would have given me those things-so why the hell not!
" "The family I'm with now are really poor, and Mr. K-can't afford real nice things-that's why I went for you ... that and because you were cute ... and because I wanted to make damn sure I didn't get booted outta your school for bad grades or doing something wrong. I figured that if I hooked you, my darling, I'd have it made! And I do-but in an entirely different way. I never figured on falling in love with you. Oh, I know you think I'm too young for that, but God only knows I've been around! I mean, would I let you off the hook for buying me nice things if I didn't love you? Would I?'
"Craig looked over at me finally. 'But, Lorianne, I do buy lovely things for you. What are you talking about?'
"I smiled at him lovingly as I replied, 'Yes, I know you do, honey. But the difference is that I've already told you that you don't have to. You're buying me things because you want to, not because you have to.'
"My darling Craig smiled a wan smile at me, took my hand in his, and squeezed it till it actually hurt. I knew there was a lot of love in it-there had to be with the power behind it.
" 'Come on, Craig, let's go back to our room before I come all over the place from talking about so much fucking and sex! Come on-get up,' I pleaded with him playfully, trying to make him get up.
" 'I don't know if we should anymore, Lorianne. I just don't feel right about it. Especially after what you just told me,' Craig said almost sadly.
" 'Oh, for Christ's sake, Craig. Don't be that way! Just look at it this way-if you weren't the one who was fucking me, if you weren't the one who was getting sucked off-it would be some other guy. Maybe my new foster father, Mr. K--. Now, wouldn't you rather be doing it to me and with me than letting Mr. K-have all the fun? And then I would come up short, too, 'cause he can't afford me, really. Then I might just have to go out and find me another sugar daddy.'
"Craig smiled wanly again, got up, and led me by the hand back to our motel room. Without saying a word, we both dropped our swimsuits on the floor and climbed into the unmade bed together. Before I could even get myself settled, Craig was all over me, kissing and hugging me and caressing me like he'd never done before. It was so beautiful, so very beautiful!
" 'Oh, God, Lorianne. I want to give you everything you've always wanted-everything you've never had. But I really shouldn't be taking advantage of you like this.' His lips were brushing my sensitive flesh as he was whispering to me. It made me all the more excited sexually when he did that. His soft, gentle hands were all over my body, touching everything at once, it seemed. His mouth-those warm, moist lips-settled on my rosebud nipple and began sucking on it gently. Then the suction became more and more intense until I could feel my hips squirming around on the bed and the juices flowed and boiled in my hungry cunt.
"Boy, did I want to get fucked! That telephone pole of Craig's was the best damned prick I'd ever had inside me! The rest-mostly piecework-were ordinary compared to his and he knew it. I'd told him often enough. It was so great being on the pill-I'd never have to worry about getting pregnant until I wanted to-and Craig would never have to worry, either.
"His mouth was getting hotter and hotter on my nipple, and his other hand was squeezing my other nipple till the juices of my cunt were nearly flowing out of me. I could feel his erection, hard and spongy, poking at my legs and hip-probably dying to get inside me. But Craig never slung it to me until we both just couldn't stand it any longer. It was one of the things I liked about him-he never rushed anything. And he sure wasn't rushing anything then. He was slowly sucking the cunt of me right up through my tits. I was thrashing around on the bed like a wild woman, screaming at the top of my lungs that I wanted to get fucked. We picked a really soundproof motel just for that reason. I like to scream a lot.
"Finally, when we both couldn't stand it anymore, Craig moved up on top of me and shoved his magnificent sex tool into my slit just a little bit so that the head of it was barely touching my wet slit. I squirmed under him, trying to make my cunt reach up to him and suck his prick into me. When I was just about ready to go out of my head, he gently lowered his beauty into my sopping cunt and filled me to capacity.
"It was so glorious-it always was glorious with Craig's mammoth prick inside me. It filled me full up ... and I felt wanted and loved and-and-ready to cooooooommmmmmme!"
It is not a new twist to discover that emotional awareness can develop out of relationships that have two strikes against them to start with. When the elements of that relationship are so negative as to also contain the ingredients of a "conspiracy" just in order to survive, one becomes rightly amazed to discover a later emotional reward accruing to both parties.
Lorianne was certainly the winner in this race, if it can be called that. The principal, also seems to have profited. If, for no other reason than that he had an opportunity to temporarily regain his youth; his time and money and risk seem in some degree to have been well-invested. It is possible that following the cessation of this liaison, his new view and new tolerance might play a part in reestablishing his family unity.
CHAPTER FOUR
Case of the Ravished Infant
"Golly, I sure don't want to tell you all that stuff about Old Gus and me because, really, it's so embarrassing. And, besides, I promised my mommy I wouldn't tell. She said it's best for a girl to put such awful things out of her mind and not let them louse up her life.
"But, gee, I guess I should tell you what happened because I just can't forget. I guess I really do need the help of someone like you in getting rid of these achy feelings I've had in my body ever since Old Gus moved away-feelings like ... like I want to strip naked for every other old geezer who comes along. Mommy don't know it but, gosh, if I can't get rid of these feelings I'm liable to really get a bad reputation.
"Who is Old Gus? Well, I can't tell you exactly who he is because that's the only name I ever knew him by. His last name is one of those real long, funny-sounding German names. He's real big and tall, with a long, red moustache, and he talks with a funny German accent that's hard to understand. Once I heard Mommy say that he's way up around sixty years of age; and that his last wife died just a few years before we got to know him.
"I was ten when Old Gus rented our little house out in back next to the garage. I thought he was the nicest man I'd ever met, outside of my daddy, because he always had candy for me and after school he'd sit in the rocking chair on his front porch and tell me stories about the fun he had as a kid in Germany, and he'd let me light his big pipe, and sometimes he'd play catch with me. But most of all I liked it when he let me sit on his lap, because then he'd bounce me softly on something that pressed into my fanny and whisper how pretty I was.
"Mommy and Daddy liked him a whole lot, too, and after a little while they'd let him baby-sit for me when they went out night clubing or to a party. They would ask him into our house where he could watch our color TV, make me put my pajamas on, and make sure that I went to bed by ten o'clock. Then they would leave, all dressed up fit to kill, and not return until two or three in the morning.
"And for a couple of years, Old Gus did exactly as my mommy and daddy told him: he'd let me watch TV for a while with him, then he would send me straight to bed. Of course, he'd bounce me on that lump of his sometimes and reach under my pajama top to hold my bare chest, brushing his fingers on my tiny nipples and making me feel real good and tingly, but he always sent me to bed right at the stroke of ten-usually sending me on my way with a little squeeze of my fanny.
"Yeah, Old Gus was real well behaved for a couple of years, never making any passes at me that were out of the way. Or at least they didn't seem out of the way because even my daddy held me around my bare chest and bounced me on his lap sometimes. But then two things happened when I reached the age of twelve-which was just a year ago-that changed everything: my breasts began to grow, soon reaching out to little one-inch points, and my parents gave a big party in our house, deciding that Old Gus should take care of me out in his place where I wouldn't be kept awake by the party noise.
"Of course, Mommy and Daddy sort of looked on Old Gus as a member of the family by now and so did I. But-wow!-we sure shouldn't have. Because it was only about a half hour after he tucked me in on his couch and turned out the lights that I heard him tiptoeing back, coming straight toward me. I had my eyes closed and I kept them closed, pretending I was asleep. For some dumb reason I kept my eyes closed and gave him no answer even when he whispered real close to me: 'Roxanne, honey, are you asleep?'
"I guess it was kind of a game with me, fooling him into thinking I was fast asleep, because I breathed louder and louder until I almost sounded like I was snoring. Anyway, I sure convinced him. And I convinced myself, too, that Old Gus really wanted me to be fast asleep. A few seconds later I felt my covers being slowly pulled off and felt myself being eased onto my back. What's he doing with me? I wondered. But I didn't pretend to wake up because I figured the only way to find out what he was doing was to keep up my playacting.
"Then suddenly I felt it, his hands unbuttoning my pajama top and laying my breasts bare. I heard him exclaim in a whisper, 'Ach, liebste! Wunderbar ... wunderbar!' Then he started breathing loud and fast like a steam engine and the next thing I knew his hot, open mouth was closing around one of my little plum-size boobs, softly sucking, drawing it in deeper and deeper while his tongue licked all around the nipple.
"Golly gee, I didn't know what to do! I wanted to push his head away and demand angrily that he leave me alone, or at least play like I was rolling over on my stomach in my sleep-but it felt so ... so good ... so nice and warm and tingly. And it got better and better, especially when he switched his mouth over to my other boobie and began to feel up the first one which was all wet from his spit, sort of milking it gently with his long, knobby fingers.
"I couldn't help myself. I had to let him keep on sucking and fingering my naked chest, not only because it made me feel so nice and grown up-you see, I'd heard lots of the older girls at school talking about boys sucking their boobs-but because I figured that he'd soon be through. Also, believe it or not, I didn't want to hurt Old Gus's feelings. After all, I thought, he'd been so wonderful to me, giving me candy and all that.
"And I guess that's where I made my big mistake, letting him continue on, because very soon I felt him unbuttoning my pajama bottoms at the side and softly running his hand down low over my tummy, at the same time keeping my right breast in his hot, sucking mouth. Oh, wow! That started my whole body tingling! Even as far down as my toes! And then ... then he lifted his mouth and hand off me.
"He was through playing around with me for the night, I figured, and in a way I was glad-I sure didn't think that I could go on with my fake sleep much longer. With all the crazy excitement building up in my tummy, it was all I could do to keep from moaning out loud. Only he wasn't through! No, no! The next thing I knew, Old Gus was slowly and gently pulling my pajama bottoms down to my ankles, then spreading my knees wide, then ... then cupping all of my fat, fuzzy pussy in his hand.
"Oh, golly, it was the first time someone else had felt me down there! Of course, my parents had when I was a tiny baby, but I'd long forgotten that and, besides, it's a lot different having it done when you're a twelve-year-old, with a little grown-up hair on your pussy, and a lot of sensitive feeling in it, and by a horny old man who's been married several times. Now I really did feel like jumping up and yanking my pajamas back on, not getting real mad but just politely asking him to please leave me alone so I could sleep.
"Only I couldn't. I started to, but then he started running his long, rough index finger inside my pussy slit and sighing quietly, 'Ja, is ver goot young cunt. Ver goot for eating.' I didn't understand what he meant about my pussy being good for eating and cared less. All I cared about was the sensational new experience of being masturbated in my pussy by a finger other than my own-and by a great big finger that was a hundred times more expert at it than my own.
"Then suddenly, as Old Gus's finger found my hard, excited little clit, I felt another wonderful, very familiar sensation in the region of my chest. The dirty old geezer had decided to suck my little titty-nubbins some more while he was jazzing his finger in my pussy! Not that I had any complaints. Holy gee, how could I complain when my whole body was catching on fire with passion and begging for more and more? And how could I keep quiet any longer with my pussy beginning to explode in a giant climax-the first climax I'd ever had in my life?
" 'Ohhhhhhh, my pussy feels so good ... sooooo gooooood,' I moaned. 'Please, Elmer, rub your finger faster, faster, FASTER! Ooooooooo, yes, yes, yes ... that's right. Golleeeeee, something's happening ... something ... some-thiiiiing ... ! '
"Of course, that Elmer bit was to make Old Gus think I was talking in my sleep-because I was afraid that he'd get scared and run if he knew I was awake. And, let me tell you, it really worked. He speeded up with his finger just like I wanted him to until he felt me trembling in my climax, then quickly, without even pulling up my pajamas, he scurried back to his bedroom puffing like a locomotive.
"In fact, Old Gus kept right on puffing for a long time after he left me. I could hear him, even though his door was almost all the way closed. And that made me wonder. Why is the old geezer still breathing so hard? I asked myself. Curious, I quietly slipped out of my couch-bed, got my pajamas back on and crept over to his door for a peek.
"Well, wouldn't you know it? Old Gus was lying naked on his bed, masturbating like everything. It was pretty dark in his bedroom but I could plainly see by the dim window-light that he had an awfully big sex organ. Golly, it looked all of a foot long, though maybe it was mostly in my imagination-not ever having seen a man with an erection before. Anyway, he kept spitting on it and pumping it in his hand, changing hands about every half minute, puffing louder and louder, finally getting himself so tired that he just gave up and collapsed on his back.
" 'Dummkopf! Vy don't you come?' I heard him growl between his gasps for breath. 'Vun of dees days I get mad und slice you up like baloney!'
"What an experience! I couldn't sleep a wink the whole rest of the night on account of it, especially since my breast nipples kept right on tingling and my pussy kept right on itching, sort of, and oozing juice. Several times I got real mad to think of Old Gus taking advantage of me when he thought I was asleep, and once I even planned to tell my daddy on him. Daddy would've been fit to be tied; in fact, he probably would've chased Old Gus away that very same day, which was exactly what I wanted.
"But then I'd feel that good tingling again and that got me to thinking differently about the whole business-because, after all, he really hadn't hurt me. And what's more, a little voice kept repeating over and over again, I might want Old Gus to do it again sometime. Sometime real soon.
"So I didn't tell another soul about what happened that night in the back house while my parents were having their party, and I never once let on to Old Gus that I was awake when he sucked my little titty-sprouts and fingered my pussy slit. Instead, I told my daddy and mommy that I slept real good on Old Gus's couch better even than in my own bed. And do you know what my daddy and mommy answered? Golly, I never thought they would, but they answered that Old Gus could take care of me in his own place from then on when they stayed out late, because that way he and I would both get a full night's sleep.
"That meant I would be sleeping alone in Old Gus's place at least once a week! Alone on his couch, with him sneaking in to play around with my private parts when he figured I was asleep!
"Holy gee! It kind of scared me at first, thinking of what was bound to happen. Still, in a way, it kind of excited me and I actually looked forward to the next time-which came just three days later. Just three days later my parents announced that they had to go to a stage play with my daddy's boss and his wife and precisely at 7:00 P.M. they escorted me in my pajamas to the back house, gave Old Gus a couple of tall cans of beer and a five-dollar bill, instructed me to be in bed by eleven, and drove away in their car.
"Well, as you might guess, Old Gus was ready for bed long before eleven and so was I. Not only were the television programs lousy after ten but we both agreed that we were awfully tired and sleepy-which were two very good excuses. In two shakes of a lamb's tail he had my blankets and pillow spread out on the couch and I had my body all nicely tucked in. Draining the last of his beer with a big gulp and a loud belch, he said, 'Sleep tight, leibchen,' then turned out the light and disappeared into his bedroom. A few minutes later his light clicked out and all was quiet except for the pounding of my heart.
"I don't know how long I waited but it seemed like hours. You know how time drags when you're waiting for someone, especially when you want them to hurry? Well, every minute dragged slower and slower, and I got drowsier and drowsier, and finally I just couldn't help falling asleep. I mean, fast asleep. Suddenly the whole world blacked out and the next thing I knew I was in a beautiful big palace that was straight out of the Arabian Nights.
"Holy smokes, what a dream! There I was, sort of lost in that palace, when a couple of giant black men started chasing me through the long corridors, laughing to each other that their master would be pleased to have a nice young virgin like me in his harem. For some crazy reason my feet were so heavy that I couldn't run much faster than a walk. In just a jiffy those black palace servants had ahold of me and were dragging me, kicking and screaming, to a very luxurious chamber where we were greeted by a young, handsome guy wearing a lot of rich-looking robes and a turban that was literally plastered with big diamonds and rubies.
"I don't remember exactly what he said to the two servants who captured me, but, anyway, he thanked them for doing their duty and then told them to scram, after which he ordered me to strip naked so he could see what kind of a body I had. So I stripped, figuring that if I was going to be in his lousy harem I'd better start pleasing him right then. And, d'ya know what? I figured correctly. With no hesitation, the sheikh or raa-harajah, or whatever he was, grabbed me up in his strong arms, carried me to a huge round pillow that was as big as a king-size bed, and laid me down on my back.
"Then-wow!-I found out what happens to new harem girls. First of all, Ali Baba or whatever his name was sucked my boobies like maybe they were prime steaks and he hadn't eaten in ten years. And in my dream I had plenty for him, too. I remember that my breasts stuck way far out, even farther than Mommy's and she is size thirty-six. Only my boobs weren't enough for the horny bastard; he wanted to suck on my pussy, too, and stick his tongue way far in. And while he was doing that, putting me in orbit with sexual excitement, he wanted me to masturbate his great long penis for him. And finally, after I had masturbated him for a little while, he wanted me to suck his rigid penis real good so he could have an orgasm in my mouth!
"Well, in my dream I guess I would've done that last thing he asked, because, after all, he was my master, but I was too out of my mind with his tongue licking all up and down inside my pussy slit to concentrate on anything else. In fact, I started crying out to him for more and more of his tongue-licking, begging him to please stick his tongue right into my pussy-hole-as far as it would go. In fact-are you ready for this?-I begged so hard and got so fiery hot inside my pussy that I woke up.
"And if you weren't ready for that, maybe you'll be ready for this: I woke up completely naked, with my knees spread high and wide, and a real, live tongue shoved deep into the slit of my pussy, furiously licking all up and down, sweeping over my clit and peehole, lapping up my flood of boiling hot passion juice. AND IN MY HAND THERE WAS A MAN'S LONG, HARD, HOT, THROBBING PENIS!
"At first I wasn't too sure that I was awake, but then I got a better look at the huge, paunchy hulk leaning down over me and knew right away that it didn't belong to the handsome young dude in my dream. All that fat and all that huffing and puffing and snorting could only belong to Old Gus. And-damn it!-I don't mind telling you that the sudden drastic change got me mad.
" 'Wh-what are you doing to me, Gus?' I demanded angrily, letting go of his big, hot penis and noticing that the palm of my hand was real oily and slippery. 'Stop it! Take your head out of there! I don't want you doing that to me, Gus! It isn't nice!' And with that I shoved his head out from in-between my legs, rolling quickly over onto my stomach.
"But Old Gus was too worked up to stop. 'Ach, mein little liebchen, don't get mad mit Old Gus,' he stammered, running his big paws up my legs and around the tight little cheeks of my fanny, grasping them and spreading them far apart. 'Dis vill make you feel real goot ... real goot.'
" 'No ... no ... I don't like it!' I whimpered, starting to cry. 'Please, please go away and leave me alone!'
"Then-holy gee!-I had no sooner got out the last word when I felt something long and hot and real wet snaking its way deeper and deeper between the cheeks of my fanny as he stretched them apart with his hands. At first I got real scared, thinking it was Old Gus's long, hard penis, but, no, it was too wiggly for that. It has to be his tongue! I thought, a little relieved, but still I couldn't help crying. It was so new and shocking to me, having a man's tongue sliding around and licking in my rear.
"But then, suddenly, while I was sobbing away and trying hard to pinch by fanny cheeks tight together, it started to feel good, just like Old Gus said it would. I didn't stop my crying but I relaxed my fanny muscles, actually making it easier for his hot, slithering tongue to have its way-especially its way on top of and all around my rectum. Golly, I couldn't help myself, it felt so good. I even found myself pushing my rectum out to catch more of his tongue, feeling-oooo-eeee!-feeling the tip of his tongue worming into my rectum a little way, and feeling the mouth of my rectum grabbing at it, trying to suck it in deeper.
"It was the funniest, craziest feeling! I didn't understand what was happening to me, but I suddenly felt like I was sort of slipping back into my dream, pretending that I was back on the giant pillow with the handsome young sheikh making love to me, offering me his big, beautiful penis to play with. Reaching my hand out, I searched for and found Old Gus's hard, throbbing organ, at the same time crying louder to show that it was my aroused body, not me, that was slowly giving in.
" 'Ja, ja, little vun, take mein cock und jack it off,' I heard my passionate young sheik master say in a husky, strangely familiar accent as he lifted his face slightly from the crevice of my rear. 'You vun nice little liebchen, so now I giff you somsing ver goot.'
"With that, and me still laying on my belly, the horny young prince charming with the thick German accent pulled my legs far apart, crammed the blankets under my hips to raise them up, then shoved his face down deep in my crotch, smack over my pussy! Then the next instant his long, hot, drooling tongue was going to work all over again, slithering across my clit and peehole, snaking into my tight little vagina, furiously lapping up my spewing pussy juice like he desperately needed it to keep from dying of thirst.
"Wowee! What a feeling! It was a thousand times more exciting than his finger had been. Old Gus's finger, I mean, because now I wasn't pretending to be dreaming anymore-I was back on eath, body and mind, and I was thinking that Old Gus was every bit as good as any young sheikh, if not a whole lot better. And I was thinking, too, of how hot and exciting his huge, quivering, brick-hard sex organ was in my hand, especially with that oily stuff oozing out of it and making it nice and gushy, like the inside of my pussy slit.
"Don't ask me why but just the same I kept on crying and pleading with him to stop what he was doing and go away. 'Oh, please, please stop that!' I sobbed as I raised my fanny up higher to give him more of my pussy, at the same time milking his swollen penis faster and faster. 'This isn't nice what we're doing. It's dirty and nasty and ... and ... ohhhhhhhhh, I can't take it anymore ... I can't ... I CAAAAAAN'T!'
"That was the truth, too. I couldn't take it anymore. I felt my whole insides catching on fire from Old Gus's tongue racing over my clit and jabbing deep into my pussy-hole-so much on fire that all of a sudden my insides just up and exploded from the boiling heat. I mean, without any exaggerating, that it felt like an atom bomb going off in my guts. I mean, I felt like I was being skyrocketed right straight into heaven.
" 'Ja, ja, mein hot little cunt,' came a muffled voice from between my legs as I jerked and squirmed and trembled all over the couch, 'giff me lots and lots uf your nice, sveet virgin come. Dot's right, Roxanne, mein little passion vlower, keep it vlowing for Old Gussy.'
"The next instant I felt his long, flat tongue back in my wide-open slit, shoveling up my flooding orgasm juice for all it was worth. At the same time I could hear the loud sound of his wild slurping and the even louder sound of his ecstatic grunting. But I didn't mind that so much. Oh, no. What I minded was something else he did right in the midst of his slurping and grunting.
"Do you know what that dirty old man did? He had an orgasm right in my hand. One second I was pumping away on his penis, sort of lost in the thrill of my own terrific climax but dimly aware of his meat getting hotter and more swollen, then the next second-BOOM!-it bucked a couple of times and shot a stream of creamy goo smack into the palm of my hand. Yekh! What an awful feeling, having that hot, gooey stuff from his testicles in my hand. And yet-and yet it was kind of exciting-in a way.
"And he was very polite about it. Realizing what he'd done in my hand, Old Gus scurried quickly into the bathroom, brought back a washcloth and, after wiping my pussy dry, cleaned the mess from my palm. I was still sobbing a little, so next he patted me gently on my head and said very soothingly: 'Dot's all right, mein little sveety. You vill like it better nex' time. Nex' time I von't wake you from your sleep und maybe I jus' suck your pretty little apple-stru-del titties.' Then, satisfied that he'd calmed me down as much as possible, he retired to his bedroom and closed the door.
"Only I wasn't calmed down one little bit. I kept thinking of what he'd done to me, licking his tongue all up and down the crack of my rear and pussy slit, then shooting his penis-cream into my hand. It made me boiling mad, the idea of that old man taking advantage of a little girl like me, getting me so passionate that I was forced to let him do those things. Golly, I even had a feeling, just for a second, that I ivanted him to fuck me! If he had tried to stick his penis in me when I was so hat from his tongue licking, I probably would've let him. And that would've been terrible, just terrible, I thought.
"So do you know what I made up my mind to do? I made up my mind to tell my daddy and mommy. Wowee! Would they ever get mad. They'd kick him out so fast it would make his head swim. Maybe ... maybe they'd even call the police and have him thrown in jail for child molesting.
"But I didn't tell. Because the next morning when I got dressed and went to my mommy, I got to thinking that if I told it would be the end of all my fun for maybe years and years. It would mean no more of Old Gus's good candy and no more playing catch with him and no more bouncing on his lap while he told me wonderful stories about Germany. But most of all, it would mean no more of you know what: getting my little boobies and pussy sucked. Sure, it was awful, getting my first taste of sex from an old geezer like Gus, but-holy gee!he was better than nobody at all; he sure was a lot better than masturbating with my own damn little ol' finger!
"At least those were the excuses I gave myself and, swearing myself to secrecy, I looked forward more and more to the next Saturday night when my parents had a date to go bowling with my aunt and uncle. When Saturday evening finally dragged around and I was sent in my pajamas and robe to spend the night with Old Gus, I was so excited from the long waiting that my pussy was already beginning to fill up with wetness, even though I washed it good before leaving my house. In fact, I not only cleaned my pussy real good for Old Gus but I took a good, hot bubble bath and touched some perfume on my earlobes and spread a little talcum on my boobies and belly."
Here we deal with perhaps the most classic case of nymphophilia in this book. It has all the components of true obsession and of true nymphophile-like planning and deceit.
One of the things usually not recognized about the nymphophile is that when his obsession is of a high order, he becomes a canny pursuer. He can, and does, develop all of the subtlety and stealth of a professional burglar in his scene-setting productions, which are usually designed to win the trust of the child-and, in this case, the child's parents.
Gus is so typical that he fits the mold of what we would regard as the model of a nymphophile. First, there are undertone suggestions that he is seeking to relive his happier early life in that he has identified the girl with his departed wife. He is using what psychoanalysts refer to as a mildly dissociative process, and it is quite--likely that he becomes transported to other scenes by virtue of the substitute relationship. In a word, he is able to displace certain fragments of the reality which surrounds him, which is what is meant by the earlier comment that nymphophiles (pedophiles, in that reference) are often schizophrenic. However, this is not quite so serious as it sounds on the surface, since Gus's shutting-off of his concern for the here and now seems to be controllable, and is used only for purposes of attaining his quest.
More important, perhaps, is the manner in which Gus courts the girl (as well as her parents). One is quickly drawn to the simplistic conclusion that he is only attempting to endear himself so as to gain trust and confidence, but another, far more telling possibility emerges. Gus very--likely is reliving the original conquest of his wife. More than--likely, coming from a European background, Gus had to woo and engender trust in his wife little by little, gaining precious inches of progress in the relationship over a long period of time. In those days it just wasn't appropriate to kiss maiden-ladies on the first date, or to caress their bodies at all prior to formal engagement. Possibly, Gus was himself brought up to believe these were the proper paths to seduction, and that a year or two was not too long to wait for the proper package. If such ideals and outlooks were consonant with his upbringing, then we have reinforced the schizophrenia theme of his pedophilia, since he could not possibly equate what he was doing with the moralistic remnants of his upbringing. He had occasionally to 'forget'-hence our earlier assumption of dissociation.
Of continuing interest are the parallels between Gus's seduction of this girl, and the manner in which seductions most often occur between people who have a great deal of respect for each other. There is, if one can momentarily dismiss the idea of nymphophilia, a certain beauty in the courtship. Gus is probably not reacting so much out of fear of "spoiling" the possible chances of fruition so much as he seeks to again identify with a life now wilted and faded. Therefore, in the course of appearing to invest great long animity to his self-denial, he is, in effect, affording himself great pleasure, and, in a sense, fruition at every step along the way.
This is the point at which the nymphophile becomes rather baffling to the observer. Time and again we hear reports of older men who hail young girls in the park, entice them to a secluded spot, and then expose themselves, possibly requesting the girl to "touch" him. The common reaction by uninformed listeners is something akin to "my God, what would he have done if he'd had the chance?" It seems to escape these listeners that perhaps the nymphophile has just engaged in what seems to him to be a "complete act." For other nymphophiles, of course, the "complete act" might be something different (cunnilingus upon a hairless vulva is very common, as is requested fellatio), but not many nymphophiles desire (or are capable) of actual intromission.
Gus, therefore, was probably engaging in a series of "complete acts"-that is, acts producing satisfaction. And all this for two reasons: the first as mentioned above, and the second as a nymphophiliac predisposition. As the story unfolds, the additional observations become obvious. In short, Gus's relationship with the subject probably becomes a carbon copy of a relationship that was dear to him and which lives on in his memory with the fervor of a torch.
As for our heroine, little comment is necessary. She exhibits the certain strain of precocious hypersexuality we seem to encounter so often among the nymphets of this day.
"Old Gus was very indifferent to me at first, greeting me with a fatherly sort of smile and seating me on a separate chair to watch television. But when he heard Mommy and Daddy drive away in their car, he quickly dropped the father stuff and motioned for me to come to him so he could take my robe off and sit me on his lap. Once I was on his lap, he reached under my pajama top, took hold of my boobs and said: 'Ah, mein little liebchen, is ver goot to have you for the night again. Ja, ya, you smell so sveet und nice, like a vlower. Tonight I really eat you up. You like dot, no?'
"Of course, I had to play dumb and not let him think that I was overanxious. 'Oh, you don't really want to eat me, Gus,' I said, pretending to be interested in the television. 'There's much better food in your refrigerator.'
"But he insisted, just like I wanted him to, that I was the most delicious food in the world. 'Nein, Roxanne sveety, nein,' he muttered in my ear, milking my boobs out with his big, expert fingers and shoving the hardening lump of his penis up into the crevice of my rear. 'Your own sveet titties und cunt are da best food for Old Gus-und you know it, too, mein little virgin baby, don't you?'
" 'Oh, I don't know about that,' I answered real coyly, feeling my nipples beginning to tingle like crazy and wishing he'd hurry up and eat instead of just gabbing about it. 'Really, I think you're just kidding me, or trying to scare me or something.'
"So to prove that he wasn't kidding or trying to scare me or something, Old Gus unbuttoned my pajama bottom reached in between my legs slid his big, knobby index finger into my pussy slit-exclaiming, 'Ah, liebchen, vot a nice juicy cunt you bring me tonight!'-then set me on my feet facing him, and took my pajamas completely off. 'Ja, ja, sveety, I luff to zee you naked,' he said. 'I luff to zee you soft, smooth little baby-girl body, zo beautiful and tender and delishus like a zucculent ripe peach.'
"Next he checked all of the shades to make sure they were drawn, turned off the light, lowered the audio on the television, and laid me on the couch. Impatiently for just a few seconds he leaned over me, caressing and kissing my tingly little breast nipples. Then breathing real hard he stood up and awkwardly rushed to get his own clothes off.
"Oh yes, I know you think I was terrible leading that old man on, not saying a word against the dirty things he was getting ready to do. But-golly gee!-you don't know what it's like when a young girl is all hot and bothered from being fingered and licked by a man-especially the first time. It's-it's like a starved person being teased with a tiny little taste of food, enough to just make him feel all the more starved. Honestly, it's like the craving of your body has completely taken over your mind and nothing makes sense except satisfying that craving.
"So I just laid real still there on the couch, watching Old Gus getting himself naked like me and beginning to feel a little scared. Then suddenly when he lowered his pants and shorts I saw his penis spring out long and hard, lit up in the television glow like a giant snake. Oh, wow! Then I really did get scared, because it kept swelling up more and more and raising up higher and higher. I don't know why, but suddenly I got the feeling that it meant to leap straight for my pussy and force its way deep into my vagina hole, like it was desperate to get in there and drink up my inner juices.
"But Old Gus soon took away my fear and made me feel good again by kneeling down on the floor and running his huge hands lustfully but soothingly all over my breasts, belly, and thighs, saying: 'Ah, now mein sveet little baby girl, I make goot luff to you. I eat up your deli-shus little sugar-plum titties and juicy little virgin cunt. Und maybe I let you play mit me like Hilda, my vife, vunce did. Ja, ja, I make you veel real goot, like Hilda, and you come mit your cunt-vunce, twice, maybe three times.'
"Then he lowered his head down on my chest and sucked one of my boobies into his mouth, at the same time spreading my legs with one hand and grasping my plump little pussy, all of it, working it up and down in a wonderful, exciting way. I felt his hot, drooling tongue swishing around my hard, erected nipple and felt that wild tingling building up in my boobies more and more, and spreading down over my belly to my clit, making the juice bubble up from my pussy-hole faster and faster.
"But-d'ya know what?-I couldn't get out of my mind what Old Gus said about letting me play with him like his ex-wife, Hilda. It was filling me with curiosity even as my body started quivering with the sexual excitement of what the horny old geezer was doing to me. So, finally, as he switched his mouth to my other boob, I asked: 'Gus, tell me, how did you let your wife play with you?'
"Really, I'm sorry-I should never have asked that. I should've left well-enough alone. Because the answer he gave me only made things a lot ivorse. 'Veil, little vun,' he mumbled after lifting his mouth up to the tip of my nipple, 'if you must know, I let Hilda lick mein balls and zuck mein big, sveet dick, Ja, she luffed to do dat-luffed it more'n any zing ... even more'n fucking.' Then he went back to feasting on my boob.
"Well, by now I was really going out of my mind from the treatment I was getting, especially with Old Gus's finger finding its way into my gushy, juice-filled slit. I just couldn't help leaning my head down over the edge of the couch to see his long, rigid penis with the big, swollen head on the end, and underneath the huge sack of balls. Oh, golly, what a sight! Those big male organs had scared hell outa me before-but no more. Now all I could think of was Hilda licking and sucking them. Now instead of a dangerous snake that big, throbbing penis looked like a delicious lollipop!
"I swear, the words just slipped out without me knowing what I was saying. 'Gus, please, can I do what you let Hilda do?' I sort of stuttered, reaching down with my hand and cupping his big, hot, fuzzy balls in it, then wrapping my whole palm around the stem of his enormous, pulsating penis that felt a hundred times hotter and more exciting than it had the last time when it shot a puddle of cream in my hand.
"Oh, I was so afraid that he'd answer no-for the reason that I wasn't his wife but only a little girl he happened to like a lot. But the dirty-minded old codger didn't answer no. He really wanted me to lick his balls and suck his big fuck-stick. He'd just been telling me about Hilda to make me hungry for his balls and penis! I know that now, but, lordy, I sure didn't know it then.
"So when Old Gus, the filthy old bastard, raised his organs up to the level of my face and brought them over close to my mouth, at the same time shoving his long, hot tongue down into my sizzling pussy-slit, I shot out my own tongue as far as it would go and commenced to scoop under his balls with it, thrilling like crazy at the soft, velvety feel and the musky taste. I mean, it was like tasting the most secret and the most forbidden part of every male in the whole world!
"It was like I had invaded where only grownup married women were ever allowed to put their hands and tongues!
"Then for just a second I felt Old Gus's tongue pull out of my pussy and heard him gasp: 'Ja.ja, mein hot little liebchen, lick mein balls goot. And zuck zem, too. You fine little zexy bitch. I let you zuck my big dick next, zen if you do goot job, maybe I fuck you. Ja, sveety, you vill luff my fucking. Is best fucking in da whole, vide world.'
"Oh, wow! Was he ever getting to me with that way-out, sex., talk of his! He was driving me so far out of my mind with heat and lust and craving for every kiiiu of sex there is that I had no control at all over what I was doing. As soon as he'd finished talking, driving his long, hot tongue back into my sizzling pussy slit, I didn't hesitate one second in stretching my mouth all the way open and sucking in his balls, at the same time pumping his great penis in my hand for all I was worth.
"Then-holy gee!-I felt the head of his penis oozing cream into my palm like it had that other time. Only this time I didn't want to waste it in my hand. After all, he'd promised to let me suck his "big, sweet dick' and that meant that I could suck out his oily cream, which must be the sweetest part of it, I figured. So impulsively, without doubting that I was doing the right thing, I let his balls slip from my mouth and sank the great, swollen head of his penis between my lips instead.
"Instantly I sucked a few drops of passion cream from Old Gus's peehole, loved the salty-sweet taste and milked the whole length of his long, pulsating penis stem for more. Only I couldn't get any more. So I gave up and decided that I would suck out his climax-cream instead, giving him such a hot, fast-and-furious sucking that I'd drain his balls of every last drop. When I get through sucking his big old fuck-rod. I thought, he'll never again think back on the sucking that Hilda gave him.
"But a lot of good it did me to be jealous of Hilda. About the time I pumped his thing in my mouth the third time, massaging his balls to sort of speed up his orgasm, he suddenly and quickly jerked it out of my mouth, at the same time jerking his tongue out of my pussy. 'Oh, nein, Roxanne sveety!' he stammered in a scolding way that hurt the hell out of my feelings. 'If you make Old Gussy come, zen his cock get zoft, and if his cock get zoft, he not able to fuck you. You do vant some goot fucking in your hot little baby-cunt, ja!'
" 'Yes,' I answered, feeling like a penny waiting for change, 'if you don't think it will hurt.'
" 'Don't vorry. I get Hilda's cherry ven she little girl like you and it no hurt. Oh, maybe tiny bit at first, but she go crazy mit joy after. You vill go crazy mit joy, too, little vun. Ja, you vill really luff Old Gussy's goot, hot fucking,'
"That all sounded well enough, especially with me so aroused that my clit was dancing the Irish jig down in my pussy, not to mention the hot, itchy craving building up inside my juice-filled hole. But still when I gazed upon that big, stiff penis of Old Gus's, which was all of six inches long and as round as a wienie, I couldn't help being a little worried. Golly, the biggest thing I'd ever had in my pussy-hole before was my finger, and then only up to the second knuckle. My finger had fit just right, nice and snug like, but Old Gus's great swollen fuck-organ-wow!-that was something else.
"Anyway, it was too late then to back down-my pussy was much too excited and, besides, I didn't think Old Gus would've let me back down even if I had wanted to. When he took me by the arm and led me into his bedroom, explaining that the couch was no good for fucking, I just went along meekly without saying a word. In fact-in fact it made me even more aroused being led into his bedroom because he kept one hand deep between the cheeks of my little fanny so that a fingertip pressed against my rectum, and I could see his hard thing sticking straight out in front, sort of leading the way to the spot where soon, very soon, I'd be fucked for the first time.
"Then-oh, my gosh!-I don't know why but I started crying. Not loud-just a sort of sobbing, whimpering cry, like deep inside I was terribly ashamed and scared, though I knew I had to go through with it come hell or high water. Old Gus tried to calm me with sweet talk but I just couldn't calm down, not even after I crawled up on his big double bed and spread my legs for him, inviting him to hurry up and fuck me.
"But he didn't hurry up because I guess he thought my pussy had cooled off some coming into his bedroom, which maybe was the reason I was crying. Instead, he brought his huge naked carcass on the bed beside me, whispered, 'Don't vorry, mein little virgin baby. I vill take it nice and easy mit your tight little cunt,' then started sucking my boobies and licking all over my stomach and thighs.
" 'Ohhhhhh, please, Gus, don't tell my mommy and daddy!' I wailed with tears streaming down my face. 'They'd kill me if they found out that I let you do this to me! Please promise that you won't tell!'
" 'Ja, ja, liebchen, I promise,' the dirty old walrus stammered, huffing and puffing. 'Dis goot fucking I giff you vill be our zecret, yours and mine. Ja, zo now raise up your sveet baby legs high und wide zo your hot little cunt vill pop open goot for Gussy.'
"That made me feel a little better, him promising to keep his trap shut, but-dammit!-it didn't stop my crying. It didn't convince me that what I was letting him do to me was right. It only persuaded me that I should raise my knees high and let my pussy-lips stretch open for him ... so that he could get his mouth in and suck my clit easier ... and have all the room he needed to slide his long, hard penis into my fuck-hole.
"Of course, as soon as I did what he asked, he didn't hesitate one little second to shove his face into my boiling hot crotch. SPLASH! His face plunging into my flood of spewing pussy juice sounded just like someone diving into the ocean. It was the most exciting sound and the most exciting sight I could imagine-and yet I couldn't help bawling: 'Please, you won't hurt me when you fuck me, will you? Remember, you promised. You have such a big thing-and I'm so afraid it will hurt when it goes in.'
"But Old Gus, the big tub of shit, didn't answer me. He was too busy satisfying his lust for me. He didn't care how I felt so long as he got all of the pussy juice he wanted to drink and got his penis wet in my little virgin sex-hole. He was making me hate him. Honestly, I even toyed with the idea of squirming out from under him, kicking him hard in the balls and running outside where I could hide from him until my mommy and daddy got home. Only I couldn't bring myself to do such a thing because, regardless of how I felt toward Old Gus just then, I was his prisoner! His sex prisoner!
'"Ohhhhhh, Gus ... now, now, NOW!' I began to moan helplessly. 'Please don't wait any longer. I WANT TO BE FUCKED NOW!! ! '
"Yeah, I'm not kidding, the itchy heat inside my pussy was driving me completely out of my mind. And what's more, Old Gus, jerking away on his big, stiff penis while he lapped up my gushing pussy-juice, wasn't any less nuts in his passion. He raised his fat face quickly out of my crotch when he heard my pleading, stared fascinated at my hole for a couple of seconds, pussy-juice streaming from his eyebrows, nose and chin, then gasped: 'Ja,ja, I fuck you now! I fill your sveet baby cunt mitt mein big cock! But virst, baby, I loozen your hole mitt mein finger.'
"The next thing I knew he was easing his long, knobby index finger into my pussy-hole, twisting and pumping it slowly as it sank deeper and deeper. Ooooo-eeeeee! Did that ever hurt at first! But gradually, within a half minute or so, my hole loosened and the sharp "ttle pangs went away, leaving a beautiful, warm, tingly feeling that made me want more and more of that finger. In fact, I wouldlve gladly settled for Old Gus's finger in place of his penis, and to relay the message on to him, I started humping my rear up in a hot, fucking motion, harmonizing with his pumping.
"But, no, the old bastard would have none of that. 'Nein, nein, cock-fucking much better for you, sveety,' he snorted. Then with the strength of an ox he grabbed me by my waist, lifted me high into the air, rolled onto his back, and slowly lowered me in a sitting position toward his crotch. Facing him with my knees drawn up high and wide, I watched the dead-serious expression on his perspiring face as he very carefully and expertly touched the opening of my pussy-hole down on the pointed, glistening head of his fuck-rod. Then, without taking his eyes from the contact point between our legs for fear of losing his aim, he gasped: 'Now, mein sveet little baby cunt, qvick, take your fingers and stick it in. Und vurk your ass around vile I lower you down. Vor dis operation ve need all your goot cunt joozes.'
"So I stuck the head of Old Gus's sex-pole into the opening of my vagina, worked my rear around as he lowered me down and-schlrump-soon had the whole damn thing up in my belly.
"Oh, wow, ivoiv, WOW! What a feeling! What a feeling! And d'ya know what? There was no blood like some of my girl friends told me about when they were fucked for the first time. And I knew why, too. I had broken that ivall of tissue in my pussy-hole a long time ago ivith my finger. So I could get a real good fucking and there wouldn't be any mess at all-just nice, clean passion juice, and come cream, and sweat, and a lot of wild, crazy excitement, and tears from my dumb crying.
"Yeah, I don't know why, but I couldn't stop bawling, even though my pussy had never felt so good. Old Gus tried his best to make me stop. He milked on my little pointed bobbies and sucked my toes and pumped his penis so wonderfully in my boiling hot vagina that I exploded in the wildest, most ecstatic climax a girl could possibly have. But it was no use. He even waited to shoot his own cream into the hole of my belly button to keep me from getting pregnant; then, after sucking my pussy clean, he wiped my whole sweaty body off with a warm, wet towel, at the same time telling me in a real soothing voice what a nice hot little fuck I was. But it still was no use. I kept right on sobbing and sniveling that it just wasn't right for an old man to fuck a little twelve-year-old girl.
"The next morning when I dragged myself back to my mommy and daddy, I almost told on Old Gus. That's how badly my conscience was bothering me. Just why I didn't tell I'll never know. Anyway, it wasn't necessary, as it turned out, because Old Gus just up and moved away two days later. I guess he figured it was too risky playing around with a little girl who cried all the time she was getting fucked.
"Still, sometimes I wish he hadn't moved away. I've let several boys at school go all the way with me since that first time with Old Gus, but, believe me, none of them were half so good."
In our mid-chapter comments, we made a point of comparing Gus's seduction of the subject to his probable conquest of his wife, and we drew upon the sexual habits and mores of early twentieth-century Europe (Germany) to explain the slowness, certainty, and deftness with which Gus was willing to address himself to the current relationship. If we may now make a further observation along these same lines, might it not be interesting to note the possibility that nymphophilia (or at least the habits it produces) might manifest itself differently when the current crop of teenage boys become men. Those with aberrational tendencies at that time will have had a much different sexual upbringing, and it certainly won't have been one of slow teasing and painfully gradual advancement. The young people we see today accept sex as if it were totally non-tabooed in all aspects, and virtually fly from bed to bed.
Might not we see a radical change in the approaches and techniques of the nymphophile of the future? Or, much more realistically, might not we see a drastic reduction in the doubts and inhibitions of men who were brought up to believe that sex is much more natural than unnatural?
CHAPTER FIVE
Little Girl Blue
"The frayed velvet of the seat rubbed harshly across my butt and the backs of my thighs as I sat down, my eyes rapidly adjusting to the dim lighting. The movie was a dumb cowboy thing, and I stared dully at the flickering screen only until I could see as well in there as outdoors. It was the super-special Saturday matinee, but I hadn't come to see the show.
"Although my heart was beating kind of hard and the palms of my hand were damp, I was amazed at how quickly I'd caught on to the routine. Even in the dark I'd managed to sit down next to a--likely one. I glanced at the man sideways, taking care that he didn't catch me observing him.
"He looked to be around fifty, and the way he was dressed gave me the idea he might be a businessman taking an afternoon break, probably miles and miles from where he worked and lived. A sad old businessman, looking for a nice, safe way to get a few thrills without getting caught.
"Karen said a lot of them were businessmen, actually. She said that people only assumed that old men who dug very young girls were dirty bums who lived in doorways and existed on cheap wine. Actually, Karen told me, most of the older men who came to the movies in hopes of getting to play with a young girl were what you would call 'respectable' types, guys with grown kids of their own, and often grand-kids our age.
"Karen is my best friend. She's the one who started the 4-F club. That stands for 'Find 'em, Feel 'em, Fleece 'em, and Forget 'em.' The way the whole thing started was that Karen simply got tired of always going to the movies on Saturday, sitting down, having some old creep feel her up, then having to change seats to get away from him. A girl ended up missing half the flick that way. She got felt up anyway, and she had nothing to show for it afterwards. It was a drag. Parents have no idea what goes on at these movies. I mean, a girl of any age has to expect she'll be hit on half a dozen times during a double feature. So finally Karen came up with the idea that we should get something out of it, at least.
"The club had its official start the week before. All us girls in junior high who lived in the neighborhood got together and formed the club. The deal was that when one of these men started fooling with us we could either tell him right off that he better buzz off or at least six girls would be screaming that he was molesting them, or we could let them mess around as much as we wanted, then threaten them with everything short of actual rape. The point was, they were not to get away without laying some bread on us-anywhere from half a buck for popcorn and a coke, just for bugging us, to a couple of dollars for a new record or something. Most of the time the girl didn't have to ask for the money. At the first sound of calling for the fuzz, the old fools would shell out automatically, telling the girl she had misunderstood, and to get a coke and cool off. It really was funny. And safe enough. And simple.
"Only it hadn't worked out that simple last week. Not for me. I hadn't told Karen what had actually happened; I'd only shown her the three dollar bills and evaded the details. Listening to the other girls recount what had happened to them made me even more determined to keep my mouth shut. Lee, a pretty twelve-year-old in the club, had giggled as she told her story.
" 'A guy sat down next to me right away, and started trying to get his hand inside my panties half a second later. I asked him right out if he'd give me money to catch a bus. Grinning like an ass he gave me a buck, his hand about an inch from my pussy all the while. I thanked him sweetly and said the buck would probably be enough to get me to the police station where I could report him. Man, did he ever take off!'
"I glanced around the clubhouse-a dusty tool shed behind Ginger's house-and wondered if any of the girls had had an experience like mine. Dolly told her story next. She was thirteen, like me, only she was much younger looking. She looked like a real kid with her flat chest and straight up and down figure. She was kind of cute, though.
" "This really old man sat down next to me and began the usual junk of touching my leg and all. I was wearing my jeans so there wasn't much he could do. I let him run his hands all over my legs and belly, and finally he got brave and put his fingers on my zipper. I waited until he got my pants half way unzipped before asking him for money. The creep was so excited he was shaking as he dug out a buck. I took it and told him I had friends sitting all over the place, and if I screamed half a dozen of them were going to say he was also trying to get fresh with them. I bet he's still running. He didn't even have the manners to zip me up again.'
"Ginger spoke next, and her story was the only one that came even close to mine. 'The guy that started fooling around with me was kind of sweet, in a weird way. I was wearing a short skirt, and his touch was so nice and soft he got inside my panties before I realized it. To tell you the truth, it felt kind of good. I mean, I knew he couldn't go too far, so I figured I'd wait awhile. He tried to put my hand on his prick, but I wouldn't do it. So he played with it himself, all the while rubbing my pussy real gently. The next thing I knew he was breathing hard and moving his hand fast under the sweater he had thrown over both of our laps. Then he sort of moaned a little and was still. I figured he had come. From what I've heard about coming, it had to be that. So next thing I know, he's on his feet and ready to split without so much as a word to me. I blocked his way and whispered that unless he gave me some money I was going to scream and tell everyone what he had done.
The old bastard went white at that, dug out a crumpled bill and shoved it at me, then ran. I thought it was a one.' She reached into her bra and pulled out the bill. 'See? It's a five! It was so easy and such fun, and now I'm rich!'
"When it was my turn, I lied. I told them that a guy had sat behind me and reached up, like he was leaning on the back of my chair in order to see the flick better. But he actually was feeling my tits. Then I told him unless he gave me some money I would scream. Well, it wasn't actually a lie. That part was true, all right, only I didn't ask him for money then. In fact, I never had to ask him for money at all.
"I thought about what had actually happened the week before while I did a quick once over of the man sitting next to me now. Last week I'd been really nervous. Oh, sure, I'd had lots of guys sit next to me at the flicks. Going to an afternoon show meant changing seats a lot because of them. But this time it was different. We were deliberately there because of these old letches. I had been nervous enough to find a seat alone for a moment instead of going directly to a seat next to a possible victim. But I hadn't noticed the man seated in the row behind me. I became aware of him when he slid over three or four seats so he could be directly behind me.
"He started by leaning forward in his seat and casually playing with my long hair. I'm proud of my hair. It's dark and heavy, and I keep it shining. It almost reaches my waist. Anyway, this man started fondling it. It was a weird sensation, because I had no idea who he was or what he looked like. Funny enough, I hoped he wasn't young. Boys my age, or even high school and college boys, turn me off. I'd always figured I was a little retarded or something, because the only males I was interested in were like one of my teachers who was old enough to be my dad at least, and some movie stars, also pretty up in years. Maybe it was because my dad had died when I was tiny, and maybe these guys represented a father or something. At least that was what Karen is always saying. I don't know, and I don't care. I just know that young guys give me the chills.
"Anyway, all this attention on my pride and joy, my hair, wasn't too hard to take. I half turned, as if shaking hair out of my face, and saw enough of the man to know he was even older than Mr. B-, the teacher I liked. This man must have been in his middle or late fifties, and he wasn't bad looking. He sort of reminded me of Mom's insurance man who had a granddaughter almost my age. I guess I sort of relaxed after that.
"He played with my hair for a while, then let his hands, both of them, slip over the front of my shoulders and down. He moved as if he were really sure of himself and of me. I guess he was right, because I didn't move or say anything as his hands firmly cupped my little tits. like my hair, I was super proud of my breasts. They are on the small side, but big enough for my slim frame. They really are pretty, soft and warm to the touch, with hard little nubs at the tips, each pointing upwards. Alone in my room, I liked reaching under my clothing and feeling them, squeezing them, thinking how much some man would enjoy holding them. It never failed to get me hot.
"This guy seemed to be enjoying them, all right. He had one in each hand, and I was glad we were seated up in the balcony where it was darkest. Realizing the man must have made sure we were safe enough before messing with me, I decided not to worry about it and just let his hands go on touching me for a while more. In the back of my mind was the thought that I should call it quits pretty soon, but there didn't seem to be an urgency about it. I could make him stop at any time, so why not take my time?
"His hands began to squeeze me. It felt good. I could feel my little nipples getting hard. Then, just as I was wishing my dumb old sweater wasn't in the way of his nice hands, he dropped his hands to the sweater's hem and brought them up against my naked flesh. I never wore a bra-I'm too firm to have to wear anything. My whole body tingled as he cupped my bare tits and squeezed. Holding them with nothing in the way really seemed to get to him-he began working them like mad, rubbing and weighing them with his palms, teasing the burning nipples with his fingers . ... There was no way in the world I was having any thoughts about stopping him then. It felt too wonderful.
"There was something eerie about being felt up this way, with the people in the movie screen shrieking and jumping around, bigger than life but completely unaware of me or the guy playing with my tits. I silently wished the movie would never end.
"Finally, the man removed his hands. I waited, unable to move, feeling kind of deserted and lonely now that my aching tits were abandoned. But then the man leaned even closer to my seat, in fact, rested his chest against it as if needing to get as close to the screen as possible for the exciting part. I could feel him against my shoulders, mashing against my hair, and the combined odor of tobacco, after shave and old-man smell was strong in my nostrils. It was a groovy feeling, waiting, being aware, but not Knowing exactly what would come next.
"I didn't have long to wait. Acting really casually, the man dropped one of his hands down over my excited tits, past my belly, and onto my lap. I was wearing a miniskirt, and his hand was right at the edge of it, half touching my thigh. When I didn't protest or move, the man reached under the skirt, felt my inside thigh, and put his hand over my panty-covered pussy. It felt as if I'd touched an electric outlet wet. Only good.
"Before I could recover, I felt the hand slipping beneath my panties and a finger inching between the lightly-haired lips of my young cunt. The finger began to trace the crack, which was, I was amazed to realize, sopping wet. Then, with no delay at all, the finger slipped into my hole while I mechanically opened my legs more to let it in!
"This was definitely the time to call it quits! I knew I'd stalled long enough. But it felt so groovy, his big hard finger in there, moving around, doing crazy things to my insides. I kept thinking, I'd stop in another minute, just one more minute . ...
"He was the one who stopped, finally. He moved his finger out of my hole and up a ways, rubbing it against something hard. I felt my little clitoris respond, and all through me the wonderful sensations were stronger than ever. While he rubbed he put his lips so close to my ear that his breath sent shivers down my neck.
" 'In the parking lot in the back,' he whispered. 'The black station wagon parked way in the rear, near the field. Follow me out, but don't come too close. Got it?'
"I felt myself nod, and then the finger dipped into my pussy one last time and was gone. My knees were water as I got up a minute or two after the man brushed past me on his way down the aisle. I didn't stop to ask myself what I was doing, and I didn't think about how the man might be a murderer or something. I just followed him. I didn't seem to have any choice. My cunt was one big ache, such as I'd never before experienced, and the ache had to be soothed, that was all there was to it. Forgotten was the 4-F club and the other girls, and the money.
"It was late afternoon, and I blinked as the bright sunlight chased the fog from my eyes. I wasn't too far behind the man, so I slowed my step. I had been right about him, he was probably old enough to be my grandfather, and he was dressed as square as the insurance man, but none of that mattered at all. In fact, it seemed to add to the excitement.
"He held the door open for me, glancing nervously around. But he didn't have much to worry about. There was only one other car parked out there, and there wasn't a soul anywhere. It was one of those dumpy parking lots where no one ever really parks, and the field near his car was a burned out nothing that wasn't much good for anything, not even the little league.
"Now that he had me in his car, the old man started acting kind of weird, super nervous and up tight. He wouldn't look directly at me, as if he didn't want me to really look at him. I figured he was worried about getting caught, but after fighting it out on his own while I just sat there, too hot to move, he bent toward me.
" 'Listen, kid, I guess this is as good a spot as any. Huh?' His hand snaked between my legs again. I nodded and sighed. His fingers were separating my little lips again, then rooting around in the slick, hot cavity beneath.
"His eyes slitted as he felt me. 'You sure are a pretty little girl. You're the prettiest little girl I've ever seen, honey.' His voice was thick. He had one arm around me as he whispered into my ear while his other hand was busy in my hole. 'You're just a baby. How old are you, honey? Tell me. Not older than twelve, huh?'
"For some crazy reason I nodded, although I was very proud of being thirteen and a teenager. It was like I sensed that he wanted me to be twelve for him.
" 'Your sweet little pussy is so nice and tight. Have you ever let anyone else touch you there? Has anyone else ever done this to you?'
"This time my answer was the truth, as well as what he wanted to hear. 'No. No one. Just you.'
" 'Good!' he replied. 'You mustn't let anyone else do this to you. Other men would hurt you, you sweet little girl. They wouldn't just do things to you that feel good, like I'm going to do. They'll take their big things and try to stick them up your little hole ... your delicious, beautiful little hole.. , . ' He moaned then and dipped his finger further into me. Then he took my hand.
" 'Do you know about the things men have in their pants? The big stiff cocks that could hurt little angels like you?' He brought my hand to his fly. Under the rough fabric and closed zipper I could feel the man's large cock. It was as hard as a rock and twitched as my fingers touched it. He seemed to love my feeling it, and I was more than willing. I'd never touched a prick before. But he took my hand away.
" 'Those things are bad, darling. They'll ream your little hole wide open, if you're not very careful. There are a lot of men who would push you down when their pricks are as hard as mine, push you down and spread your legs and ram their fat cocks right up that beautiful little pussy of yours. They would.'
"At that point, having that happen didn't seem like such a bad thing. His voice and hand had me worked up so bad I didn't know what to do. Having this man stick his prick up there might feel even groovier than having his finger in my hole. But I kept quiet.
" 'I won't do that to you, sweetheart, so don't worry.' Then his voice changed and he sounded like anybody else. He looked around, then said, 'You watch real careful to see if anyone comes along. Hear me? If you see anyone-I don't care how far away-you tell me right away. You hear?'
"I nodded and promised, not knowing what was next on the program. As soon as I agreed, the man pushed me back on the seat to a sideways, half-sitting, half-reclining position and got to his knees on the floor. It was fortunate that the station wagon was a big one. He was pretty big. But if he was uncomfortable, he didn't say anything. Then he spread my legs a little, and pulled down my panties. All the time he was getting me out of them he kept whispering things. I couldn't understand all that he said, but he seemed to be carrying on about what a beautiful little cunt I had and how good it would taste, and how he had to get it in his mouth. Stuff like that. It didn't make me any calmer, those crazy words of his.
"When he finally had my panties off and my skirt bunched around my waist, he brought one leg around his neck so that his face was right between my thighs, up against my pussy. I was beyond thinking about what he was going to do to me. I just held my breath, and if he hadn't hurried I might never have taken another breath. But in a flash he had buried his face into my opened slit, the little lips on either cheek so that his lips and nose were pressed directly against my aching clit and juicing hole. Then his tongue darted out and flicked over my clit. I'm not sure I didn't pass out. I may have. It's hard to remember. All I know is that the most intense wave of agony/pleasure passed over me, leaving me weak and crying. But that was only the start, and I was weak and helpless to do anything about it. It's a good thing that no one came to the parking lot, because at the first whipping of his tongue against my clit I was blind and deaf to anything save the fire in my pussy. And he was totally caught up in tasting and sucking and licking and sniffing and biting every inch of me from the crack of my ass to the base of my belly.
"I even tried pulling away after a while, thinking I might die if the intense shocks didn't stop for a little bit. But he wouldn't let me escape. I struggled frantically, but his iron mouth was a trap from which I couldn't release myself. But it was while I was struggling that it happened; a strange rumbling kind of white-hot something began, way inside, a curious sensation that couldn't be ignored and grew in spite of all I could do to stop it. My thighs tensed and I felt a sudden film of sweat on my upper lip. I think I screamed. I know I grasped the man's hair and held on for life as the wave crashed somewhere in my womb and the white hot light was suddenly in front of my eyes and I was crying and trembling all over, and my legs were locked so tightly around the old man's head that I'm sure he couldn't have breathed at all until it was all over . ...
"Somehow I was being helped back into my panties, helped out into the street, given three damp and crumpled dollar bills and left there in the gray, smelly belch of his exhaust fumes as he started up the car and screechingly pulled out of the parking lot. But I was dumb to this sudden exile, alive only to the startling realization that this was what it meant to 'come,' to reach an 'orgasm,' to 'shoot' ... and I knew, just as I know now what heaven had to be if people were to struggle towards it, that I would be back next week, back for the matinee, for the faceless old men, the angels of this new, crazy, wonderful heaven I'd so unexpectedly discovered . ...
"Oh, yes, there was no doubt I'd be back . ... "
As we have alluded earlier, the psychologic mirror-response of nymphophilia is gerontophilia (Greek: gerontos-elderly, and philos-love of). The word is easily recalled if one thinks of geriatrics (identical roots).
The aberrations nymphophilia (or pedophilia, in this case) and gerontophilia are complementary and each assists in the apparent normalization of the other. By this statement is meant that while nymphophilia directed toward a fourteen-year-old girl may be considered destructive and reprehensible if the girl responds only out of curiosity and trust, it becomes much less evil (and psychologically destructive) if the girl herself has precocious sexual attractions toward the nymphophile. The reasons are simple: she has, by her own mirrored attraction, become less of a pawn, less directed. Since she has a conscious need (and thus a motivation), she is not, in effect, being maneuvered quite the way another fourteen-year-old might be. This peculiar set of circumstances is not quite as rare as we might suppose, and it accounts for some of the more bizarre attitudes we see in both psychologic and legal circles. Many nymphophiles, for a certainty, are led on, induced and provoked every bit as much as they induce and provoke, and thus it becomes a question of dangling carrots before a donkey, putting a shot of bourbon before the alcoholic, tempting the diabetic with chocolates . ...
Here again, we are confronted with the element of money-whether that money represents approval, aggrandizement, or tokenism doesn't really matter, since there is a different quality here than in the chapter dealing with outright prostitution ("Pixie Was Twelve"). On close reading, one gets the impression that Elaine is only secondarily interested in the money-or that it has become a symbol of success by which she competes with her girl friends. Her mentions of the remuneration from her under-age exploits seem to have a "so-what?" quality. It is apparent that we shall have to explore other areas to find a more convincing explanation of her antics.
We would not be hasty in assigning a "geron-tophiliac" tag to Elaine, but neither would we rule out the possibility. For one thing, Elaine alludes to no male school chums, nor does she seem to have a social-centering in her life other than with her competitive girl friends (one a heterosexual withdrawal of sorts, the other easily translatable to a fear of lesbianism). All of these (and other) possibilities are ambivalences, containing elements of hostility, aggression, passiveness, and indominance, all at the same time. Which is precisely the near-schizoid type of ambivalence one detects in the circumstance of gerontophilia.
On the other hand, we are not keen about the gerontophilia concept, simply because the classic aberration itself lies in a somewhat different area. True gerontophilia implies that the older partner be exactly that: old. A forty-year-old man marrying a seventeen year-old girl is not really gerontophilia, because forty just isn't that old. However, a thirty-year-old woman marrying a seventy-year-old man (or vice versa) is clearly gerontophilia (if other motives can be dismissed). Elaine, when she opts to select her males carefully, seems to be aiming toward virility and attractiveness, not gerontophiliac compensations for the same qualities. Her motives seem genuinely sexual, and on a somewhat highly organized conscious level. For this reason, we must regard her as being simply sexually precocious, motivated by a need for acceptance within her circle of girl friends, and aggressive to the point that gerontophiliac overtones (but not much more than that) must be admitted. The other fears and douhts which are constituents of gerontophilia seem to be absent: fear of absolute confrontation, doubts of one's desirability, the indominance of "yielding" to "wisdom."
Thus the fragmentary gerontophilia we see here is centered about aggression, that peculiar form of soft sadomasochism by which one is able to "force" and "reject" the world in one stroke. Perhaps a better understanding of this phenomenon is needed at this point.
Aggression is the acting-out manifestation of the unconscious condition generally referred to as hostility. Both the underlying root (hostility) and the acts themselves (aggression) belong to that personality trait we sometimes refer to as assertiveness. This is generally an evolutionary character development indicative of early anal and oral fixations (and thus heavily intertwined with incest wishes), all related to primary developmental stages in the human infant. When one alludes to hostility and its agent, aggression, another manifestation must be considered. It is the "capper" or "final straw" which tops the cake, frustration, which means the blocking of human motives and acts here as a sort of middle-man catalyst by which the actual character of the subject is energized and brought into a rigid, definable focus. To be frustrated is to be overinhibited by a system of blockages, which serve both to nullify drive and motive, and to externalize resentments. The subject tries to "fight" out of the confining blockages (or perhaps-occasionally-try to find reinforcements of the strength of the original motive whereby the blockage can be subdued). Quoting from Fillmore Sanford's text, Student Workbook for Psychology: A Scientific Study of Man, we discover:
... an additional and equally direct reaction to frustration is the aggressive response. ... But, far more important, we must understand that aggressive behavior results from an inner hostility. ... Frequently the frustrated organism, instead of attacking the immediate cause of its difficulty, will vent its anger on other and safer objects that come readily to hand.
What "safer" and "readier" object might Elaine have hoped to encounter than those which seemingly sought her out? Thought of in this light, we might reasonably assume that her sexual confrontations with older men were actually aggressive "contests," whereby she undertook to vent hostility and thereby relieve some inner frustration dealing with her earlier parental relationships.
This is not to say that these older men represented father figures-such may or may not have been the case, but psychic response is rarely so direct.
As we proceed with the narration, we caution the reader to take careful note of the risks Elaine is willing to take (hostility), and the almost casual contempt with which she regards her suitors, (exploitation-a form of aggression).
"His hand on my leg brought me back to the present. For a moment I'd forgotten I was at the matinee again, so wrapped up was I in memories of the week before. I sneaked a glance at the man next to me again.
"He wasn't as old as I'd first thought. In fact, I pegged him for his late thirties, at the most. One of those old-before-their-time types. He was glancing over at me, too. But, crazy as it sounds, I was no longer interested. I got up and started slowly up the aisle.
"It's an odd feeling, walking up an aisle in the near dark and silently hunting for a man. I saw Ginger sitting next to a guy. They seemed to be watching the screen intensely, but I wondered where his hands were. Then I spotted mine. I walked slowly to the very last row and moved in a dozen seats. As usual, there was no one in the last three rows. Except for him. He was seated about four chairs away from me. I leaned back in the chair, spread my legs apart like some dumb kid who doesn't realize her skirt is now halfway up her crotch, and waited.
"Almost immediately the man got up as if he had to take a leak or something. But I wasn't fooled. I just sat tight until he came back with a box of popcorn. As I knew he would, he sat down right next to me this time.
"He offered me the box of popcorn. 'Would you like some popcorn, little girl? Go ahead. I bought it for you.'
"I nodded and helped myself to the box. It gave me a chance to look at him directly. He was old, with white hair and salt-and-pepper eyebrows. The way he was dressed made me think he was probably retired or something. I stared at his thin lips and wondered if they'd soon be kissing my pussy. I almost choked on the popcorn.
"He patted me on the thigh, a grandfatherly kind of pat. 'You're a very pretty girl,' he whispered, his hand still on my thigh. 'Very pretty.'
"That was my cue, I knew. If I didn't like the hand I could shrug it off and he'd immediately leave me alone. If I did nothing, I could expect to have the old man all over me. I didn't move.
"His soft hand felt warm on my leg. He kept it there awhile, then lifted it and brought it directly to my pussy. The way I was sitting he was able to press directly against my crotch with only my panties barring him from my actual slit. 'A very pretty girl,' he sighed, squeezing.
"I hadn't expected the quick jump to my crotch, but, I had to admit, it felt good. I let him rub me awhile, my eyes slitted toward the screen while my panties began to get damp. He would cup my mound and squeeze, rubbing his palm over the sprinkling of cunt hairs he could feel through my panties, then drop his hand lower, running his fingers between the lips and squeezing the little lips gently. He seemed to love every inch of my pussy. His breathing sounded funny, but the pressure of his hand was stronger than ever.
"He kept playing with me a long time until, finally, almost by accident, his finger slipped inside my panties. I let my eyes close as soon as he had found and entered my hole. He didn't try to go in very far, just maybe half an inch or so, but that felt wonderful. I was all gooey and hot, and I kept remembering last week, and that tongue playing against my slit. I wondered if this man had a car, or if he had a place we could go, or if anyone would be in our clubhouse now. I could imagine that white head down between my thighs. Maybe this man would want me to play with his penis . ...
"I was so caught up in my fantasies I didn't even realize that the man had One hand on me and the other in his own lap. He had the usual sweater thrown over his lap, and he was beating his meat for all he was worth. His finger was hardly moving in me at all now. I moved my hips around a little, as if to remind him, but it was no use. Then the man made a funny sound and hunched over in his seat a bit. When he straightened up, he pulled his hand from my wet crotch. He paused to rearrange his pants under the sweater, then got up and made as if to leave the other way, without so much as a glance in my direction. Anger and the ache in my pussy made me stop him.
" 'I sure hope you have some money, mister. 'Cause if you don't, I'm going to yell my head off about how you grabbed my pussy.' My voice was hard. He wouldn't think I was kidding.
"Well, he panicked, of course, and pulled two dollars from his pocket. 'This is all I have,' he whispered, his eyes wide with terror. He thrust the bills at me.
"After he was gone I looked around, trying to decide what to do. I was on fire. My little pussy was throbbing like mad, and my nipples were stiff and aching. I wished the man I'd met last week would come back. I knew I'd feel that white-hot explosion just as soon as he tongued my hole.
"I found myself looking right into the eyes of a well-dressed man as I turned around. He was standing by the back wall. I had no idea how long he'd been there, but if he'd been there for more than the last minute he must have had a perfect view of my cunt being played with! His eyes were unreadable, though. He looked in his late forties, and was really very nice looking, with a tall, slim body and graying hair. For all I knew, he was the movie manager or something. I didn't want to take any chances. I started towards the lobby.
"But as I breezed by the man, he grabbed my arm. 'Listen, kid ... what's your name?'
"I was so startled by his unexpected question, I answered him.
" 'Well, listen, Elaine, how about we sit down back here and watch this fine show? Come on, sit down. My name's Ken, and I won't hurt you.' He laughed.
"Dazed, and uncertain about this man, I allowed him to ease me into a seat. He sat down next to me and brought his mouth next to my ear.
'"I saw you with that old guy, Elaine, honey. You liked what he was doing to you, didn't you ? ' He kissed my ear. I was glad we were sitting where no one else could see us.
"I nodded faintly. At once he took my hand and brought it to his lap. He had no sweater, but it was dark enough to risk pressing my hand where it wanted to go. Under the fabric of his pants I could feel a rigid bar of flesh, a rubbery skinned length of steel.
" 'That's what watching you did to me, honey. Now what are we going to do about it?'
"The blood was rushing painfully to my ears. Touching his cock was so exciting. I wanted to feel it naked in my hand. Boldly I brought my mouth to his ear. 'Do you like to lick girls down there?'
"He laughed softly, and his prick seemed to grow another half inch. "There's nothing I don't like doing to lovely little ladies like you, Elaine. Nothing at all. Do you have a safe place where we can go? I don't know this neighborhood very well. I'm just passing through town.'
"I nodded, making up my mind. 'Three blocks down, to the right is Adams. Just across the street is an alleyway. Go down the alley until you come to a dirt path leading to a little white house. It's my friend's tool shed. We use it as a playhouse. Will that be okay? No one will be there.'
" 'Can I'm lock the door?' He put his hand on my thigh and rubbed just below my pussy.
"I had the feeling that if I said the tool shed was the local 'cop shoppe,' as us kids called it, he couldn't have cared less. 'Yeah, there's a lock. Do you want me to go first?'
"Ken nodded. 'I'll meet you there in a couple of minutes. Get naked if you get there before me, huh? No, leave your pretty little panties on, on second thought. Oh, baby, I'm going to be so nice to you! If you like getting that little pussy of yours sucked, I'll suck it all day long for you, if you want!'
"His prick was throbbing wildly in my hand now. I wasn't in much better shape. I was almost sick with desire. Without allowing myself to think, I got up, giving his thing a final squeeze. 'Hurry up. I'll be waiting. Do you know how to get there?' The whispering voice didn't sound like my own. It sounded thick and urgent.
"He nodded and I left, my heart racing like mad. I prayed I wouldn't meet any of the others on the way, and that the clubhouse would be empty. There was no reason it shouldn't be-the girls would all be at the show, and we usually went to the ice-cream shop and had malts or something after the movie was over. I figured I had at least an hour and a half without sweating it. At the moment, that didn't seem nearly long enough."
"A blue car passed me slowly as I crossed the street. I watched it turn into the alley and felt another bolt of lightning hit my belly. I continued walking, thinking of how maybe he would undress me now. My knees were weak as I finally reached the tool shed. The blue car was parked down the alley a ways, and I saw a man seated behind the wheel. He was looking ahead, but I suspected he was watching me in the rear-view mirror. I banged on the clubhouse door, just to be sure, then let myself in. Then I closed the door but didn't lock it. We had bought the lock just last week, so that our private talks couldn't be disturbed by anyone without our knowing it. Besides, we kept any extra money we had hidden under the rug. The outside lock was one of those combination things, but the inside one was just a bar. It would do, though, in case anyone did leave early.
"I waited a few minutes, thinking Ken would be right in. But I finally decided that he planned to wait awhile, either to make sure no one else showed up, or maybe to give me time to strip, like he said. I decided to risk it. If any of the others came by, I'd tell them some kind of story.
"I took off my sweater and my skirt, leaving on my panties but kicking off my shoes. There was a cracked mirror on the wall and I glanced nervously at myself. Would Ken like me?
Naked like this it was easy to see my real age. My titties were nice, but very young looking, and my hips were still on the boyish side. My legs still had traces of bruises and scratches, just like a kid. Even so, there was something sexy about my lean body and the lightly-haired pussy that looked kind of womanish. But if I had any doubts, they were gone as Ken stole into the room so silently I hadn't heard him enter.
" 'Beautiful! Elaine, baby, come here. My God, kid, you have any idea what looking at you like this is doing to me?'
"I looked at Ken, pleased that he was good-looking, glad that he liked the way I looked, and eager for him to do something to me. I walked to him slowly, not daring to breathe.
"He took me in his arms and kissed me, slipping his wet tongue halfway down my throat. Boys had kissed me before, at parties and all, but it had never felt like this. I sighed against his mouth as he used his big hands on my tits. There was a ripped old couch in the shed, and Ken pushed me down on it. His mouth went to my nipples, first one, then the other, sucking and nibbling on each before going on to the next. He managed to get most of my tit into his big mouth. It felt good. I could feel his giant prick against my leg and could hardly wait to see it. I wondered if he would try to stick it into me. like the old man last week had warned me about. The thought thrilled and scared me. If he tried, would I let him? What if he forced me? Would it hurt? I'd heard it hurt the first time. But then it was supposed to feel really good.
There seemed to be dozens of things to think about, all of them exciting, but no time to think at all. I was too busy feeling.
"His hand was stealing down my belly towards my pussy. Everywhere his fingers touched me I began to tingle. My breasts where being sucked hard, devoured by this fully dressed man, this stranger more than three times my age. I felt his hands on my panties, playing around the little lace trim. He felt me all over without disturbing my last garment. He felt my flat stomach, my smooth hips, my rounded ass, and at last my hot, aching cunt.
"I gave myself up to his hand as Ken crushed my body against his. He didn't remove his lips from my nipples, but his hand on my pussy now had my full attention. He began to pull my panties off. I was powerless to resist, though I did think it was strange, me completely nude while he remained fully dressed, even down to his shoes.
" 'You beautiful little thing,' he groaned, looking down at my body as he tossed my panties to the floor. 'Do you really like getting that adorable little twat of yours licked? Who licks it for you?'
"I was so excited I could hardly speak. But I managed to answer him. 'A ... a man did it to me last week. It felt so good . ... That's the only time.'
" 'Then here's the second time . ... ' He bent over me and spread my thighs apart.
"I started moaning even before his tongue touched me. He nuzzled his face between my thighs and began kissing my sopping crack.
When he used his tongue it was to scoop out my juices. Then he began to lick the insides of my thighs. It felt good, but not nearly as good as when he brought his mouth to my marble-like clit. I almost jumped out of my skin as he lapped it slowly and thoroughly. I grabbed up a handful of stuffing in the hand that had crept into a big slit in the couch.
"His fingers were on either side, holding the small lips of my pussy open all the way. I was one big throbbing ache. Yet my lips were curved into a beatific smile. A fuzzy thought popped into my mind, about how rarely I smiled or was especially happy. But here, with Ken's mouth on me, I was smiling like mad. Happiness for me, then, was feeling a tongue against my slit. I smiled even harder at the thought. Then I forgot about smiling and everything else. As Ken's hot tongue beat against my clit I felt the first tremors of that white-hot feeling. I held myself very still. A small warning moan erupted from my throat.
"Ken must have sensed what was threatening to occur. He stopped licking me at once and pulled his face away from my cunt.
"I groaned, as if in pain, and begged him not to stop. 'Oh, no, please, mister, please, Ken, don't stop licking me! It feels so good ... please do it some more . ... " He didn't pay attention, yet I know he heard from the way his lip curled into a grin as he unzipped his pants.
"He sat back on the couch and reached into his opened pants. 'Come here, Elaine, baby. Look at this.' He pulled out his big cock.
"I simply stared at it in awe. It was much bigger than I thought it would be, with a large purple head and a thick, red shaft. A jungle of mostly dark hair was at the base of his cock, and I could barely see Ken's big balls. He adjusted himself still more, and out popped those hairy balls, big loose sacks with egg-like things in them I could hardly take my eyes off him. His dick twitched under my gaze, and a drop of something gooey sprang out of the tiny opening in the head.
" 'Play with it, honey. Go on, touch it. It might spit at you, but it won't bite, honest.' He laughed and reached for my hand.
"I let him bring my hand to his cock. It filled my hand good. In fact, my fingers couldn't reach all the way around it. It felt strange, very hard yet very smooth, almost delicate. The velvety skin moved loosely, up and back. Ken seemed to love it most when I coaxed the skin that way. I touched the whitish goo. It felt a lot like my pussy juice. I wondered if it would taste the same. I wondered how a man would taste . ...
"I didn't have to wonder long. Before I knew what he had in mind, Ken pulled me down to my knees between his legs. I felt his hand on my neck before I realized what he wanted me to do to him. Then I didn't have a chance to consider if I wanted to do it or not. I was too busy doing it.
"His prick was pressing urgently against my lips. I opened my mouth by reflex action. He was inside me at once. It was weird, but not unpleasant or anything. He didn't shove it down my throat, or ram it in and out of my mouth. He just sort of sunk it into my mouth and held it there.
" 'Suck it a little, you sweet baby. Just suck my big cock for me. Lick it with your sweet tongue. Just for a minute, darling.' He patted my hair and sighed as I did my best to do as he asked. It was like sucking a gigantic thumb, except for the drops of cream which tasted salty. But I didn't mind. The realization that I was actually doing something I'd only heard kids talk about excited me as much as actually sucking cock. When Ken pulled it out of my mouth I was kind of disappointed. It looked about two inches longer now.
" 'Has anyone ever fucked you, Elaine, honey?' he asked, his voice very thick. 'Has anyone ever stuck his cock up that tight cunt of your?'
"I shook my head nervously. I couldn't have answered for anything. I didn't even know for sure if I hoped he'd fuck me, or feared that he would.
" "Then it's time you were,' he answered shortly.
"I wasn't given time to think at all before I was thrown down none too gently on the couch. Ken fell down on top of me, still fully dressed with his stiff prick hanging out. He put most of his weight on his knees and elbows, but the pressure, from my point of view, was definitely on my spread pussy from the head of his cock. As I felt it press into me my voice returned.
"'Don't, Ken! It will hurt!' Yet even as I protested I was aware that my legs were going up towards the ceiling. His big dick felt wonderful against my tiny slit. A part of me very much wanted Ken to shove himself inside my hole, no matter how much it would hurt.
"Ken kissed my ear, then whispered into it. 'I won't hurt you, honey. I won't even break your little cherry. I just want to put it in a little ways, that's all. Then I want to have you suck my cock some more while I go back to licking your wonderful little cunt. It'll feel good, if you just relax and trust me. I just want to get the head in there ... '
"With that, he began to push gently, nosing the head of his prick into my tight hole. I felt it bucking against my slit and I tried my best to relax. But it hurt, anyway.
"He pushed a moment more, then pulled back, moved forward pulled back again, and pressed gently but firmly. Before I realized what was happening, I felt his cock sink into me a few inches, stopping only when it pressed against a tight inner shield. I groaned, but not with pain.
"He was groaning, too. 'That feels wonderful, honey. Your pussy is so tight, so beautiful. Damn, but I want to shove all of it in you. Let me, sugar, I won't hurt you too much. Let me fuck you good, darling.'
"I don't know where I got the strength to resist. It felt so good, but somehow I didn't want him to bust my cherry. Maybe it would have been different if he hadn't already mentioned how we'd suck each other afterwards. I pushed on his chest and told him not to fuck me. I told him I didn't want to be hurt, that I would not be able to help screaming if he hurt me, and then half the neighborhood would be pounding on the door. That got him.
"His prick was sticking straight out. He looked at it proudly. 'Look at that. You make me feel like a kid again, honey. It's been years since it's stayed up this long. Come on, Elaine, baby, get on that floor and I'll give that beautiful little twat of yours the best licking yet.'
"Trembling, I got down on the floor and waited. Ken got over me, then tumbled to his back, pulling me over on top of him. I was like a rag doll in his big hands, but I didn't fight him. He twisted me around until I was sitting on his face, my ass pointing toward his head, my face pointing toward his feet. His thick cock twitched up towards my lips.
"I screamed softly as his tongue darted between my thighs. He meant business this time. His hot tongue slithered over my box, up over the crack, and directly planted itself next to my clit. He began to whip my clitoris with his pointed tongue, attacking it with a vengeance that seemed to swell his prick even more.
"I remembered my own duties about then, and gladly lowered my face to his standing cock. Out of curiosity I lapped up the new drops of goo on his dick and tasted them. like before, it was salty and thick, and still warm. I wondered what a mouthful would taste like . ...
"He was licking my cunt now like it would be his last chance ever. I knew I couldn't stand much more of it. Already the suggestion of that white-hot come was in the wind. Although I didn't really know how to manipulate Ken's cock with my mouth, I did the very best I could, sucking hard and flicking my tongue over it from top to bottom. I was one big mass of agony, alive and in delicious pain all over as my mouth tasted cock and my cunt was thoroughly explored by his tongue.
"I tried to hold on to the sensations for as long as possible, but it was too much for me. I flexed my thighs around the lapping mouth and sucked frantically on the prick halfway down my throat as the white wave began crashing over and over again in my pulsating womb. I tried to scream but couldn't, and had to settle for letting hot tears stream down my face in ecstasy as I came, then came again....
"I guess my excitement got to Ken. All of a sudden, even while I was still quivering all over, he began to spurt in my mouth! I tasted an ocean of his burning sperm, managed to swallow that without choking, and received still another mouthful. I sobbed as my own final wave exploded, unmindful of the come which trickled from my lips or the big prick which was rapidly shrinking even as I sucked it . ...
"As I dressed myself Ken sat on the couch and watched. He looked much older now, and very tired. It was funny, because what we had done made me glow with life and energy. I felt like I had only begun.
"Finally, before I was all dressed and tidied up, the man got up and reached into his pocket. He handed me a bill. 'Here, honey. What with the couple of bucks I saw that other guy give you, you should be able to see quite a few movies. Maybe I'll catch you again some Saturday....' He kissed me quickly and left.
"I looked down at the ten-dollar bill in my hand. The memory of Ken's big prick pressed up against my slit flashed through my mind as I looked at the money. Maybe the reason I hadn't let Ken fuck me was because I wanted to save that for the next week . ... But as I stared at the money, the aching began all over again. I ran a comb through my hair and headed back to the movies...."
Each time we have encountered the instance of a sexually precocious female, we have noticed a similarity of accounts. It seems not to matter if the early excess-or predisposition toward excess-is assisted toward consummation by some lecherous pedophile, some unsure and gangly youth, or even by an agreeable parent; the nymphet herself invariably exhibits a great sexual curiosity combined with a certain hypersexuality. Reworded, we have yet to encounter a case of female gerontophilia (in this age bracket, at least) where the girl is simply responding to external actions. She is, at some level and in some degree, a sexual aggressoreven when she is too young to fully comprehend her actions.
This is one of the hallmarks of any sexual aberration, be it mild or severe. Whatever outlet the aberration takes, it is usually accompanied by a preoccupation with sex itself. We do not encounter rapists, say, whose attitude is "well, if I were going to have sex at all, I would commit rape in order to achieve it; but the fact is, I'm just not interested at all."
Elaine's preoccupation with sex, in itself, is rather natural. The actual method and degree of the mobilization of these sexual forces, however, is not. As we have earlier stressed, both the pedophile and the gerontophile are suffering from areas of doubt and inadequacy; elements which must be dealt with on a casual level before any real improvement can be expected.
CONCLUSION
The cases in this book have dealt largely with the twilight areas of female aggressiveness and nymphophiliac suggestion; that is, most of our cases here have shown dual peculiarities in our subjects-peculiarities which complimented each other. Where the nymphophile did not quite have the courage or motivation to take the final steps into a sexual encounter, he was encouraged by the girl. To be sure, the girl's wiles could not have found their target unless the nymphophile appeared.
It should be emphasized that we have not dealt her with the severest form of nymphophilia; that dealing with attraction to very young girls-from ages ten and downward-although some allusions are made to such histories producing aggression (in the form of undue willingness) in several of our subjects.
Although it is not possible to examine all the diverse reasons for the occurrence of nymphophilia in our society (it seems to manifest itself a bit differently in different societies), we might mention those causes which are given most frequently. First, we are--likely very often to encounter the explanation that the nymphophile is responding to "feelings of inferiority." The inferiority feeling, it is said, prevents the male from establishing a sexual relationship with an adult female. Then he turns to children, with whom he is able to be more at ease. But this, of course, does little to explain the actual instance of "child-love," since in this case the child is in no sense a substitute for a preferred older partner. Neither do such concepts as timidity, impotence, or "pubic hair phobia" serve to explain true nymphophilia, although the first two may help to explain some child molestations.
Probably the most accepted theory regarding causation is the Freudian one which advances the notion of an unresolved Oedipus complex. Here, any mature female is equated with the mother. And, since coitus with such a woman thus would activate the unresolved conflict, the desires are fixed rather upon figures which cannot possibly pass for the mother image. Yet, once again, it would seem that at most we have an explanation only for rejection of the mature female as an object of desire. The nymphophile's specific desire for the child still goes unexplained despite some attempted amplifications. Also, one wonders, were this theory valid, would the nymphophile, in so many instances, prefer a child whose breasts, though small, have started to develop, who has scant, but not entirely absent, pubic hair, and who, in other ways, gives evidence of approaching womanhood? Why would he not prefer a still younger child who exhibits even less evidence of her femaleness? Or does the nymphophile, possibly, seize upon these signs of the female because he does crave femaleness in the sex object, but can tolerate only limited amounts of it? If that is the case, then might he acquire this deviation rather than, say, homosexuality for the reason that he is able to tolerate somewhat more of the feminine that can those homosexuals who also are in flight from woman and possibly from incest?
To further call up the various types of reasoning we should consider, let us quote from R.E.L. Masters (Sex-Driven People):
That the nymphophile may in childhood have had some erotic experience with a young girl that has caused him to fix his desires upon such an object would seem to be another possibility. However, here one is obliged to admit that the crucial experience, if it occurred, often has remained inaccessible whatever the psychotherapeutic method employed to bring it up into consciousness. Therefore the theory, while appealing to "common sense," cannot presently be verified if advanced as a general one intended to explain all cases. Also, with regard to this and some other theories, we are left to wonder how it is that a good many persons become aware of the deviation only after a period of fairly successful heterosexual functioning on an adult level, as occurred with (a subject in the book). Nymphophilia is not the only aberration that often makes itself manifest only after such a period of apparent normalcy; and the question of why the deviation does not operate at full force from the beginning of the overt sexual life is one that remains to be adequately answered . ...
As might be imagined from this and other references in this book, controversies hang on regarding the attraction of the mature for the sexually immature. It is first of all to be restated that help has been afforded certain men so afflicted (as well as women, although such cases are rarely brought to light), and certain other types of the aberration are relatively immune to known psychiatric techniques-opaque, so to speak, to the lights now illuminating the whole of the psychoanalytic sciences.
