I first met Doctor Gerda Mundinger a little more than eight years ago. At that time, she had recently completed post graduate studies in psychiatry, and was going Out into the world to put her excellent training to work in the service of mankind.
I do not speak in such glowing terms of all graduates who enter the profession of healing damaged minds. In the case of Doctor Mundinger, I knew then that she was one of the good ones, one of that rare breed. She would, I knew, earn a good income, but that would be secondary to her dedication to what was more than just a career to her.
Since then, everything she has done has served to more than justify my early faith in her. She is more than just a good doctor, she is an understanding woman, a humanitarian in the true sense, and a person I am delighted to call a good friend.
I am pleased to have been instrumental in encouraging her to share her understanding of life with the public at large through this book and others which she is preparing, because she writes in the language of the people, and in doing so, helps spread the message of understanding.
In her career as a writer, I do not wish her luck because she needs no luck. As you read this book, you will, I am confident, share this opinion with me.
But enough of me. Meet my good friend, Doctor Gerda Mundinger.
Guenter Klow
* * *
FOREWORD
When I commenced my medical studies on Europe, just after World War II, I was immediately impressed by the work and the writings of Doctor Guenter Klow.
Looking back now, I find it not surprising that I chose to leave the mending of broken bones to others, while I went in search of knowledge that would help me understand and aid minds which had been damaged in the conflict between sexual desire and social acceptance or rejection.
Long before I graduated, I knew I had taken the correct path for myself. There was and is, too much to be done, and not enough trained persons prepared to do it.
True, learned papers are being written and presented, but they reach the eyes and ears, mostly, of other doctors, many of whom have already formed their sexual opinions and closed their minds to new approaches.
There is not time, in my view, to reeducate our profession and wait for them to carry the message to our society. This being the case then, I have chosen to follow in the footsteps of my idol and carry the message of sexual knowledge, enjoyment and freedom, to the people.
I propose to do this frankly and honestly, and in the language of the people.
From the point of view of morality, I shall operate in these works the way I live my own life, from a basis of an honest, personal, humanistic morality.
I shall show how religious training, by corrupting the beauty of human sex, has instilled deep fears and doubts in many people. Seeing only evil and sin in the meeting and mating of male and female, they become the 'perverts' who corrupt and injure others.
On the other hand, it is not my purpose to be anti-religious or anti-clerical. As much as possible, I shall ignore the morality of those who are content to await the 'perfect' life after death in Heaven, and write to and for those who strive for a better life here on earth.
After many years of consultation with those who were troubled by their sexual behavior, their frightening desires, and a church dominated society's attitude toward such matters, my files bulge with case histories which not only outline these problems, but, usually, show why they happened and what harm befell others as a result.
As a result, I shall use only actual case histories in this and future works. So varied is the spectrum of human sexual behavior, that it would be both useless and futile to concoct fictional case histories when the real ones can tell our story so much more clearly.
CHAPTER I Girls The Hymen Goeth
From Puritan, through Victorian times, the average young girl approached puberty via innocence and ignorance.
If, while bathing, for instance, she discovered the sensitivity of her vulva and vagina, she dared not ask her parents about it. The price of doing so, she sensed, would have been punishment rather than enlightenment.
If, having dared question, she would in all probability have been told that such things are dirty and one does not think or talk about them.
So much for sex and knowledge. After all, Saint Paul made a career of condemning the evils of such things as sex and women. (A later Paul, pontificating on such matters, shows how little progress has been achieved in some influential quarters.)
And then came the wonderful (?) world of advertising. The girl in puberty still did not know much more about sex, but ads in magazines, on billboards and television, assured her that if she used all the right products, her body would be a thing of joy and excitement to men and that wonderful things would happen to her.
She was in the strange position of knowing that if she played her cards right, wonderful things would happen to her, but she didn't really understand what they were or how to go about it.
Still, the ways of human behavior are such, that, given a young girl who wonders about the growing sensitivity in that never-never land between her legs, someone will soon offer her the joy of finding out what it is all about.
By this time, the old bridle of morality had been quite weakened, so that the girl was more prepared to go a little farther and find out. Church morality, after all, was something her parents preached to children while they slept off the weekend party on Sunday morning, compared notes on how they beat the expense account and income tax, and held those swinging parties in the basement recreation room.
If the growing girl decided that the whole religion bit was just an extension of the earlier myth about Santa Claus, she could hardly be blamed for that.
Her parents and their friends were, she sensed, cashing in on all the vague but exciting things the ads talked about while sending her to church and Sunday school. They would get away with that for just so long. If they wouldn't tell her what it was all about, she would, eventually, find out.
A few case histories now, will show us how some of these girls found out. All are actual and factual, and took place within the past twenty years. Each should contribute something to our understanding of this phase of the subject of seduction.
CASE HISTORY
Sandy
We pick up Sandy's story at the age of fifteen, and see that her background was just what we spoke of in the introduction to this chapter.
Her father was a sales executive, her mother was the perfect hostess who knew how much the right social life could aid his career, and enjoyed playing that role.
What with work, partying, and resting from their strenuous activity, the parents found little time for Sandy and her twelve year old brother. Still, they would have been horrified at the suggestion that their children were neglected.
After all, they attended good schools, expensive summer camps, took lessons in music and dancing, and were generally provided with all the external trappings to equip them to follow their parents path in life. As for the intervals, the things of the mind, well, that doesn't show, and besides, her parents were not the best qualified of teachers in things of that nature.
Sandy's first sexual shock took place when, at the age of fifteen, she got up during the night to go to the bathroom. She heard that the party was still going strong downstairs, but there was nothing unusual about that.
She was surprised though, to hear her mother's voice outside the bathroom door. It was a loud whisper, one filled with urgency and excitement.
"Oh God, Ted, what a lover you are. No man can make my (vagina) feel so good."
There was a little more of the whispered conversation, then the woman and man walked away.
Sandy knew who Ted was, she played tennis with his daughter, and she also knew what her mother and the man had been doing upstairs, away from the party. The impact on her was strong, to say the least.
Following that incident, Sandy paid closer attention when her parents entertained in the rec room or around the pool, but she did not learn much more.
From time to time, she would see a male hand linger on a nyloned thigh, or pat tightly skirted buttocks. She would see a women bend as she talked in whispers with a man, and knew that her breasts were being displayed in his avid gaze.
In their adult world, they were having a ball, but it was not a world into which they were going to admit her, she knew. Sandy knew too, that other girls of her age, had sneaked into that world and were enjoying it immensely, although they did not talk too freely of it. Sandy promised herself that when her chance came, she would take it, would find out what that secret, forbidden world was all about.
At about the same time, Sandy commenced taking golf lessons at the country club to which her parents belonged.
Sandy had heard the whispered comments and the giggles about how the handsome assistant pro was always eager to provide more than merely golf instruction. At first, the prospect of at last finding out what it was all about, was exciting, but when, after a number of lessons, he had shown no indication of living up to his reputation, she decided it was just a rumor.
The first time Ted, the assistant pro, took her out on the course to play nine holes, Sandy spotted something different in his attitude. He was not the same as he had been on the practice tee.
When he corrected her stance, he stood more closely and seemed almost to embrace her. His hand managed to slip from time to time so that a finger brushed her breasts or thighs.
Through the first four holes, he became a little bolder in touching and she felt arousal building so that she waited for the next touch.
Her growing arousal did nothing to improve her game and on the fifth hole, she hooked her tee shot into the thick rough. She would have conceded a lost ball and put another into play, but he assured her they could find it.
As they searched, screened from the almost deserted course, for the ball, Sandy sensed that something was going to happen. She wanted it to happen without knowing just what it would be. And then she felt his hand pressing on the seat of her tight shorts.
For just a moment, she tensed and caught her breath, then she turned and smiled at the man. He was experienced enough to recognize the invitation. Moments later, he held her in a passionate embrace with his left arm, while his right hand explored her firm buttocks and thighs.
Sandy felt the rigidity of his aroused penis pressing at her belly. This filled her with excitement and a sense of power that surprised her. Here was a mature man who had, if rumor was true, had affairs with many mature women, yet she could arouse him this way.
She made no objection when he began to unfasten the waist of her shorts. In a few seconds, the shorts fell, and he was stroking her brief nylon panties as he gently pulled them down.
Following eagerly, trying to hide her ignorance and inexperience, she lay in his arms as they kissed passionately while he continued to fondle her body. After just a little while, he withdrew his penis and put it into her hand. The strength and size of the organ, the first she had ever touched, drove her wild.
But there was more to come. Cunnilingus was only an act she had heard whispered about, amid many giggles, but she groaned with passion when, after a little more playing, he pressed his face into her crotch and began performing the act on her while fondling her bared buttocks.
Up to that point, Sandy had thought that the act involved merely kissing of the labia, but when his tongue darted inside and began to lap, it was all she could do to keep from screaming.
The man was a pro at more than golf, and proved as efficient in the art of cunnilingus. It was not long before Susan was crying through her first climax with his avid mouth still pressed to her vulva, his tongue stroking her fully aroused clitoris.
Allowing her time to recover, the man whispered words in praise of her youthful beauty and told of his enjoyment of performing cunnilingus on young girls who are fresh and firm, rather than older women.
They still conversed in whispers as he prepared to have sexual intercourse with her. When he discovered that Sandy was a virgin, he was stunned, but not so stunned that he was about to turn down the offer.
It was arranged that they would meet later in the day at a point not far from the club. He picked her up at five that afternoon, as planned, and they drove into the country.
Parking beside a comfortable looking little cottage, a hundred yards or so from a cluster of similar cottages, he unlocked the door and ushered her inside. As she entered, Sandy told herself she was crossing the threshold of more than just a cottage. She was, she told herself, walking from girlhood to womanhood. Although she had heard of the pain involved in the first step of that journey, she felt no fear or hesitation at all.
Ted was a skilled lover who knew that one wrong move could unnerve a young virgin, so he took his time and made no wrong moves at all.
For a long time, he kissed and fondled her and she was completely responsive. When he undressed her, he did it gradually and tenderly so that she was anxious to have him strip her naked and helped him by raising and turning her body while he removed bra and panties, covering her with lavish compliments and tender kisses as he bared her body.
He undressed quickly then and again offered her his erect penis to fondle. While she did so, he whispered that another time, he would teach her the joy of performing fellatio on him while he brought her to climax by means of cunnilingus, and that too, sounded thrilling.
She wanted to hear more, so he regaled her with stories of his adventures with older, more mature women. He told of how they writhed in passion and begged to take his penis into their mouths, so that Sandy decided that fellatio must surely be the most thrilling of acts, even more so than sexual intercourse.
Her whole body trembled as she watched him open a pack, remove a condom, and slip it over his throbbing penis. The milky white sheath gave the organ a whole new dimension. To her, the expanded meatus seemed even bigger in its latex confinement.
Well experienced and equipped for the defloration of the eager young virgin, Ted produced a jar of Vaseline and rubbed it thoroughly around the entrance to her vagina. He also lubricated the condom with it, before moving her legs into position and preparing to mount her.
When she felt his fingers and the head of his strong penis working in unison to effect entry into her vagina, Sandy almost fainted with joy and anticipation. Within a few seconds, she kept telling herself, she was going to be a woman and understand what it was all about to share her body with a man.
She recalls that there was only a vague sensation of pain (athletic activity may have ruptured the hymen or weakened it by stretching), but a plethora of ecstatic thrills as her experienced lover gradually fed his penis into her until her entire body seemed filled with it.
Not content with purely physical arousal, he aroused her mind as well as he whispered erotic messages to her while he slowly began a rhythmic motion.
Alternating his methods of arousal, he would kiss or fondle a firm young breast and cause the nipple to become erect, then move to cup a round buttock or stroke a trembling thigh.
As a result of his expert technique, Sandy experienced the rarity of achieving climax during her first act of intercourse. (Although records are not compiled in this matter, I wager that such an achievement is far more rare than the four minute mile.)
Lying in the arms of her lover after the act had been completed, Sandy thrilled at the sensation of being a woman at last. Despite her joy, she was able to find anger to direct at her parents. What she had just experienced for the first time, they had enjoyed themselves and with their friends while allowing her to believe that the 'nicey-nice' life of little girlhood was for her.
She met her golf pro often after that, both on and off the golf course. Despite the fact that her introduction to sex had come relatively early in life, it was as if she had been deprived terribly in the past and was running to catch up with all she had missed.
Had her sexual education been looked after in a better manner, she would have adopted a healthier approach to sex, but it was a little late for that.
When her golf pro was unable or unwilling to meet all her demands, Sandy looked around for more. She was delighted to find that the world seemed full of older boys who were only too glad to look after her needs.
On a date, she would tell the boy that she'd love to drive out into the country and neck. Not long after the necking commenced, she would invite the boy to take her panties off and encourage him by opening his pants to fondle his penis. She surprised and delighted a lot of young males who, on dates with other girls, frequently were unable to feel even the top of a nylon and suddenly found themselves offered a carnal banquet.
There was something of an uproar at home when Sandy was found to be pregnant not long after her sixteenth birthday. An abortion corrected that situation, and after that, her mother saw to it that she took the pill regularly.
Sandy married at nineteen, to the relief of her parents, a young man of twenty-two who was also from among their circle of friends.
Less than a year later, their marriage threatened, Sandy, was brought to me for consultation. She spoke freely of her insatiable sexual appetite and boasted proudly that she was a nymphomaniac.
She seemed disappointed when I told her she was not that at all, but rather, a victim of her times who needed only to know and understand herself and life before she could live it in a way that would provide her with social acceptance and a measure of contentment and happiness that she had never known before.
I would like to report that Sandy is now a happy and faithful wife with a flock of well adjusted little kiddies at her knee, but things never are quite that simple.
Still, she is making progress. She is faithful in keeping her appointments with me, and is honest when she breaks down and resists to the temptation of offering some door to door salesman or tradesman a little bonus that he had not expected.
Her husband is helping too. I have been able to give him the sex education he had never received either, so that now he understands that it is quite normal when his wife opts for a session of cunnilingus or fellatio with him, or expresses a desire to employ a number of different positions during one act of sexual intercourse.
While Sandy's treatment continues, I have every reason to hope that we shall be able to undo much of the bad work of her past and do much of the rebuilding that is necessary for her future.
Because our society is a monogamous one, it is difficult for a married woman, especially, to find peace of mind while living a life of promiscuity.
She is learning that, along with many other things that should have been learned so much earlier in life.
CASE HISTORY Mary Jo
Mary Jo was born with less of the material advantages than Sandy, but began her sex education at an even earlier age.
Though not quite a slum product, she was definitely lower middle class. Her school friends were similarly situated, and, as so often happens under the circumstances, their education in sexual matters was the education of the street, more graphic than comprehensive.
She and her friends knew girls not much older who had dropped out of school, spent their evenings with men, and, suddenly, seemed to have much better clothes, more spending money, and, generally, to be much better off and happier than they had ever been.
"You've got it all in that little piggy bank between your legs," one of the older girls had laughed one day as she talked to Mary Jo and one of her girl friends.
The more Mary Jo thought of it, the more she was convinced that it was the only way to crawl out of shabbiness and poverty and find the enjoyable things of life. The 'piggy bank' was there all right, she assured herself, but there was still the matter of learning how to cash in on it.
Mary Jo had spent most of her life living alone with her mother. Her father was a vague memory, a man who had stopped living with them when she was still a very small child. From time to time, an uncle would appear at the apartment, stay on a while, then disappear.
While he was there, Mary Jo would hear the exciting sounds from her mother's bedroom.
At first, these sounds had frightened her, but after enough uncles had come and gone, she came to realize that far from hurting her mother, the men were providing her with some great pleasure.
If her friends on the street had not filled in the blanks for her, Mary Jo would have worked it out for herself anyway. When there was an uncle on the scene, her mother stayed in a good mood and life around the apartment was fine.
When there had been no uncle for a while, her mother tended to become angry at little things and her anger sometimes resulted in Mary Jo having her skirts flipped up, her panties roughly lowered, and going for a ride over the maternal lap while an extremely hard hand or the back of a wooden hair brush slapped a red glow into her buttocks.
Mary Jo dreaded those spankings, dreaded them to the point of threatening to run away from home. Her mother coped with that by threatening that if she ever did, she would have her put into an institution where people knew how to look after rebellious girls.
The girl who considered school discipline too tough, was not about to risk going into a home for wayward girls where, she sensed, it would be a lot tougher. She submitted to the spankings.
A few weeks before Mary Jo's fifteenth birthday, mother brought a new uncle home. He was a good looking man who was a cut above the average, the girl sensed, and she was ready to like him. In addition, of course, it meant that her mother's mood would improve and the spankings would not be administered for a while.
At sixteen, Mary Jo kept reminding herself, she would be free to leave home legally and could tell her mother what to do with the hair brush. She hoped the new uncle would stay on for a long time.
Uncle Harold seemed to be about the same age as her mother, mid-thirties. He didn't hold a regular job, but talked a lot about the race track and poker games, so that the girl guessed he earned his living that way. It seemed so much more exciting than working in a factory or driving a milk truck. It was not the only exciting thing about him, though.
When he took her mother into the bedroom, she noticed, the sounds she heard were more exciting than those produced by any of her previous uncles. Her mother, she noted, really went wild.
In time, just listening to their sexual activity became less than enough. Mary Jo decided she had to find some way of seeing them in action.
It was an old house with sprung doors, broken plaster, and all the rest of the badges of poverty and inferior housing. Mary Jo turned in this direction to get what she wanted.
Finding the house empty when she returned from school one afternoon, she conducted a careful survey of the maternal bedroom, found a patch of broken plaster that almost gave a view of the room, and decided that was her opportunity.
Working carefully with a kitchen knife, she opened the window a bit.
That evening, right after dinner, her mother and the man began necking at the table. He was elated over a good day at the track and they talked of going out for the evening to celebrate. Before doing that though, Harold suggested they do some other celebrating. Giving the woman a knowing wink, he took her arm and they went into the bedroom.
When the door closed behind them, Mary Jo hurried over to her private peep hole.
At once, the two adults began to kiss and caress each other. As they did, clothes began to fall away until both were naked. Mary Jo thrilled at the sight of the big hard penis of the man which fitted so nicely into her mother's hand and would soon, the girl knew, be fitted somewhere else where it would fit even more excitingly.
When the two got onto the bed, Mary Jo discovered that the peep hole was not quite wide enough. By then, she was so aroused that caution was thrown to the winds as she ran into the kitchen to get a knife, and, returning, she set about making the crack a little wider.
She was still busily involved in widening the scope of her vision, when her mother charged out of the bedroom. In a moment, the nude woman was dragging the protesting girl into the bedroom where Uncle Harold had discreetly pulled a sheet up to cover his penis.
There was a flurry of screaming and wrestling, then, in seconds, Mary Jo found herself sprawled across the lap of her mother. To add to the indignity of it all, her skirt was tossed over her back, her panties were lowered to half mast, and her naked posterior was bared to the view of the man, just a couple of feet away.
Her buttocks were not completely bare though, since the wide palm of the women moved from one rounded cheek to the other, covering each for just long enough to slap tongues of fire into it before moving on to the other cheek.
But this time, it was worse than ever for the girl. Not only did the spanking sting like mad, but there was the added indignity of being spanked like a naughty little girl, in the presence of the man. Because it stung so, Mary Jo was unable to hold back her tears and her pleas for mercy. It made her sound terribly childish, she knew, but there was nothing she could do about it.
When the spanking did stop at last, she fled crying to her room where she lay for a long time, crying softly, the cheeks of her face flushing as red as the cheeks of her tingling young behind.
Through it all, she heard the sounds of feverish activity from her mother's bedroom. They were the loudest ever, she decided. It was obvious that her spanking had aroused the man and woman to a new high and boded no good for Mary Jo.
Two days later, it was decided that Mary Jo's mother was going to take an afternoon job in a restaurant to augment the income so that they would be able to rent a better place to live.
It was the first time she could recall her mother having taken a job. In the past, there had always been welfare or an uncle to provide for them.
On the first day of her mother's employment, Mary Jo found Uncle Harold in the apartment when she returned from school. He greeted her warmly and was even more pleasant than usual. She noticed that he had been drinking more than usual for the daytime, but still, his mood was light and gay.
When he mentioned the subject of her having been spanked on the bare bottom, she flushed with embarrassment, but his tone was warm and gentle as he worked to draw the girl out.
Keeping his voice low and exciting, he told of a woman with whom he had lived who loved to be spanked. In graphic detail, he told how he would scold the woman for some act of naughtiness, then tell her to strip naked and come over his lap for a spanking.
His tone warming, the man described carefully the configuration of the woman's buttocks and thighs, the feel of her mature, silken cheeks under his hand as he spanked, and the fact that after each spanking, she was so sexually aroused that he would strip and they would involve in many exciting variations of sexual intercourse.
Flattered at being spoken to like a woman, and thrilled to her core by the intimate details he confided to her, Mary Jo was stunned to discover that, during the conversation, he had slipped an arm around her to hold her close to him, while his other hand was moving up her thigh toward her buttocks.
"I always thought of you as a nice little girl," he told her in a whisper, "but after seeing your ass and thighs, I see you're more a woman than a girl."
He told her much more, and it was heady wine to a fourteen year old girl. He added to the intoxication then by taking her hand and pressing the palm and fingers hard down on the obvious lump of his enlarged penis.
"Would you like to see and touch this?" he asked in a heated whisper.
When she couldn't reply, he slid the zipper down the front of his pants and took it out. A moment later, she thrilled at the feel of it as her hand closed around the stiff shaft.
"You're young and beautiful," he went on. "You hold it even better than your mother does. Do you like the way it feels?"
In a moment, he convinced her it was only fair that she should let him take her panties down and view her lovely young body. She hardly resisted at all as he pulled her skirt and slip up, and found herself lifting from the couch to allow him to slip her little panties down.
His strong hands felt so exciting as they gently fondled her buttocks. His mouth was no less strong as it closed down on hers in a kiss which involved a tongue which strayed into her mouth and caused her to writhe in his embrace.
Mary Jo's mother treated her like a girl, this man, she told herself, saw her as a woman, a mature, sophisticated one. It was so good.
Telling her to lie with her skirt and slip still pulled up well over her tummy, he stood beside the couch and quickly stripped naked. It was the most exciting moment of the girl's young life.
In a moment, he returned to the couch, his strong penis brushing her thighs and belly as he brought her back into an embrace. The girl could hardly resist when he told that her lovely young body excited him and he wanted to see all of it. With her assistance, he stripped her naked and held her warm body trembling against his.
When Mary Jo apologized that she didn't really know how to do the things men and women do together, he assured her that he didn't mind at all and would be pleased to guide her into new wonders and delights.
By way of keeping his word, he caught one of her firm little breasts and carried it to his mouth. In a moment, she sobbed with excitement as his tongue worked on the sensitive little nipple so that it ceased to be little.
He had other kisses to offer, and when he applied them lovingly to her buttocks and upper thighs, Mary Jo thought she would surely faint. She didn't.
She even managed to remain more or less conscious when he parted her buttocks, commented on their flawless beauty, then pressed his mouth between them and tickled her anus with his tongue.
There were other kisses as well and he distributed them lovingly over her thighs, tummy, through the silken foliage of her mons veneris, then, finally, the most loving of all. It was applied to her untouched vulva and caused her whole body to tremble and jerk violently against him.
"Are you going to do it to me?" she asked in a trembling voice as the man moved between her thighs and she felt his big penis probing her crotch.
"You want me to, don't you?" he asked in a whisper. "You want to know why your mother-likes it so much, don't you, dear? All women like it. Fucking is the greatest thing in the world to all women."
He had her and he knew it, so while he continued to talk to her in a way she had never heard before, he fitted the head of his penis between the sensitive young labia and, after just a little more talking and working to penetrate the tightness of her vagina, he drove it home.
When she cried out, he pressed her face to his hairy chest and assured her that it only hurt the first time and that it would always be great after that. In a little while, Mary Jo began to relax again and he pressed the length of his penis into her and began the motions of sexual intercourse.
While he did so, he whispered words of beauty and encouragement to her and told her that her vagina (he used a vernacular term for it) was the most beautiful he had ever known and that she was a better partner than even the mature, beautiful women he had made love to.
And then he was ejaculating with his penis deeply buried, his strong, muscular body rubbing her, and Mary Jo forgot all about the intense pain there had been. His fluid seemed to go all through her and make her a completely different person. It was, she told herself, more than worth the pain that had been involved. As an added bonus, she had his word that it only hurt the first time and, after that, would be a wonderful thrill every time she did it with him.
Thinking back to the sounds of ecstasy she heard from the bedroom when he did it with her mother, Mary Jo sensed that he was telling the truth and that it would be wonderful from then on.
For the rest of that week, Uncle Harold was home every day when Mary Jo returned from school. They would go into her bedroom at once, and begin their erotic games. After a little while, they would both be naked and would have sexual intercourse.
Her next lesson involved fellatio. First, he assured her that it was something every woman loved and that it was the best way of pleasing a man. He told her how nice her throat would feel for a long time after she had brought him to climax.
Nervously, she went through with it. There was a moment when she thought she was going to choke on his product, but she didn't, and after it was over and he told her how great she was, Mary Jo felt better than ever.
On Monday of the following week, Mary Jo returned from school and almost cried with disappointment to discover that there was another man there with Harold. It meant, she thought, that they would not be able to play their usual wonderful game.
She was only partially right though. Harold went into the bedroom with her and they had a long, whispered conversation.
When Harold told her he wanted her to go to bed with his friend, Mary Jo was horrified. It was not long though, before he broke her down. The five dollars he offered her helped swing the deal. Harold helped her undress and, when she was naked, he went to get the customer.
The man proved to be a less ardent lover than Harold, but, all in all, Mary Jo found it a reasonably pleasant experience after she got over her initial nervousness.
He proved to be the first of many customers. Rarely did Mary Jo return from school without finding Uncle Harold waiting with a customer or two. After the first few times, there was no nervousness about her. She would smile at the man, go into the bedroom with him, strip naked and provide any service he wanted.
She was surprised at how many wanted fellatio, but she never hesitated to provide that service, and always provided it well. On those rare afternoons when Harold did not bring a customer home, he and Mary Jo would go into the bedroom and make love. During these sessions, the man kept her happy by performing cunnilingus, her favorite sexual act.
After he had brought her to climax that way, they would engage in sexual intercourse, during which, she would almost invariably climax a second time.
One afternoon, as she knelt astride a man, performing fellatio on him while he fondled her buttocks and played in her crotch, Mary Jo was horrified to hear her mother in the kitchen. Their voices raised, and the girl knew that she had been caught.
Anxious to finish with her client, she quickly brought him to ejaculation by masturbating him while his penis stayed in her mouth. Dressing then, she waited until the man left, then went out to the kitchen to face the music.
To her surprise, her mother's anger had abated. She and Harold were discussing a plan whereby she would quit her job, they would expand Mary Jo's business, and all would enjoy a nice living.
Mary Jo's mother proved to be an excellent pimp. She circulated among various bars in the neighborhood and found many men who were delighted to pay for the use of a fifteen year old girl. When business became too heavy for Mary Jo, her mother would take on a few of the men to keep business moving.
At sixteen, Mary Jo decided she was being a fool to support the two adults. With a nice savings account to support her for a while, she vanished from the house one morning and rented a small apartment near the center of the city.
Her business flourished almost from the beginning, and her savings continued to mount. In time, she teamed up with a woman a few years older, and they rented a larger apartment together.
Mary Jo was arrested at the age of eighteen. By then, she was hooked on heroin. A considerate judge saw treatment rather than merely incarceration as the answer in her case, and it was then that I met her.
Over a long series of consultations in a hospital room in the jail, I learned the story of her life. First, we had to break the addiction, then I arranged for her to work in the office during the remainder of her short term.
Later, on her release, a social worker took over, found her a small apartment and a job, and arranged for Mary Jo to take evening courses to prepare her for secretarial work.
This lasted for about a month before Mary Jo vanished. One can only imagine that she went to another city where she is living the life she knows best.
We can see that the seduction of Mary Jo at the age of fourteen was particularly ugly since it led directly to a life of prostitution.
CASE HISTORY
Joan
The crucial point in Joan's life came at the age of sixteen. An only child, she lived in an apartment with her parents who both worked. She was intelligent, a good student, had a pleasant personality and was attractive and well developed physically with large breasts and good legs.
She dated and necked as other girls of her age did, but established limits for her dates which she enforced rigidly.
Each time she allowed a boy to feel his way to the top of her nylons, she thrilled and wanted to feel the hand go higher, all the way up, but each time, she found the needed strength to make him stop.
Often, after such a date, she would hurry to her room and strip naked. There, her hands would become the hands of her date and would caress her entire body with emphasis on her breasts and vulva.
Her fantasy love affair would culminate with her finger inserted in her vagina moving slowly until she achieved the climax she had to have before she could sleep.
More and more, she thought of going all the way with one of her dates. She knew other girls who did, but she also knew other girls who had become pregnant. Fear of that was strong enough to overcome her desire, but that desire still burned strongly within her.
The breeze that was needed to fan the flames to intense heat, blew over her quite by accident one afternoon when she sat alone in the apartment preparing to do her homework.
Out of the comer of her eye, she noticed a movement in the room directly opposite her in the other ell of the apartment building.
Glancing at the window, she saw that while the drapes had been pulled closed, it had not been done carefully. They did not quite meet, and the bottom of one had caught on something which held it quite open.
Through that opening, Joan stared at the back, buttocks and legs of a naked man. Just beyond him, a woman sat on the bed wearing white bra and panties. As Joan watched, she took the bra off, then stood to remove her panties.
All thoughts of school work forgotten, Joan hurried from her desk and knelt close to the window. Just then, the man turned and she saw his big, fully erect penis. It was the first she had ever seen and she felt her body tremble with excitement.
When she was able to tear her eyes away from it, Joan looked at the man's face and gave a little gasp of surprise. It was Tom, the building superintendent.
He was in his mid-forties, and, un-like other supers she had known, a friendly, pleasant man. Once, while talking to him in the lobby, she had complained about a math problem she was unable to work out. To her surprise, he came up to the apartment with her, and, within ten minutes, had explained the problem so clearly that she was able to solve it within minutes.
Now, Joan saw, he was becoming even friendlier as he prepared to help a tenant solve a more intimate problem. She watched as the man and woman embraced and rolled passionately on the bed.
Unable to believe her good fortune, Joan told herself that she was about to watch a man and woman having sexual intercourse. Then, the man surprised and disappointed her by getting up from the bed.
A moment later, he knelt on the floor by the bed, and at the same time, the woman turned so that she was lying across it with her legs toward him. Moving her buttocks to the edge of the bed, she raised her legs right up over her body and parted them wide so that Joan could look right into her crotch.
The man had the same view, but he did more than look. Joan almost cried out when she saw him move his face toward the preferred crotch and she could tell both by his actions and those of the woman who writhed in passion, that he was kissing her.
For the inexperienced girl, it was just too much. Quickly, she slipped her panties down and wriggled out of them while still kneeling. Moving her knees wide apart, she added to the stimulation she was experiencing by using her hand in her own crotch.
After a considerable time, the woman's body shuddered and Joan saw her mouth open wide. The woman, she knew, was experiencing an orgasm. Joan gave a little cry as she tried to imagine the thrill of climaxing with a man's mouth against the labia of her vulva.
For a few moments, Tom knelt there looking at the woman, his hand holding his penis at the ready. He stood then, and as the woman turned on the bed and opened her legs for him, he went to her and knelt between the smooth looking columns of her thighs.
In a moment, he was fitting his penis into her with an urgency that Joan could read from that distance. Tom began the stroking motions of intercourse as the woman's arms went around him and her legs joined in the caress.
Looking under the copulating couple, Joan saw that the woman's big buttocks lifted right up off the bed as she was obviously straining upward to meet every stroke of the long, strong looking penis.
Joan began to masturbate with her finger and was still doing it when, with a burst of frantic activity, the lovers completed their act and the man collapsed onto the body of the woman.
Only seconds later, Joan achieved her climax. It was a strong one, much stronger than usual, and yet, there was a certain satisfaction lacking in it. It did not take the girl long to realize that having seen the couple making love all the way, masturbation would probably never be good enough for her again.
She would have to feel the thrill of having a man kiss her vulva, then inserting the big, strong arm of muscle into her warm vagina.
When she returned from school the following day, Joan met Tom in the lobby where he was rearranging furniture. To her dismay, she blushed. When she did, the man gave her a strange look and asked what was wrong.
Shocked at the sound of her own voice, Joan heard herself tell him what she had seen the previous afternoon. When, with a little grin, he asked whether she had told anyone about it, she lied that she had not. Actually, she told her best friend about it as soon as she saw her that morning.
"Well now," the man said casually, "I'm sure a beautiful young woman like you has done more than just watch that sort of thing."
Joan felt a sense of shame and inadequacy as she admitted that she had never done anything more than neck with her dates. The man asked her a few more questions, then Joan found herself walking into his apartment with him.
In the apartment, the man poured himself a drink and gave her a coke.
"Are the two of you in love?" Joan asked, knowing that the woman was married.
"Love? What has that to do with it?" the man replied with a grin. "I just happen to like women, lots of women. That's why I'm a bachelor and a building super."
"You mean," she paused, then went on, "you do it with other women in the building?"
"Joan baby," he smiled warmly, "half the women in this place sit around all day getting twitchy waiting for their husbands to come home. All I have to do is let them know with a glance or a hint and the panties start to fall."
It was obvious to the man that the girl was already aroused. Always, he made a point of restricting himself to married women since he considered them safer in every way, but all of a sudden, the sight of the lovely, trembling teenager was too much to resist.
Sitting beside her, he asked whether Joan had seen him kissing the woman between her thighs. When his victim to be showed the proper interest in the subject, he began to tell her of the thrill of cunnilingus to woman and man alike.
He asked questions about how she necked with boys and what they wanted from her. She told how she only allowed them to feel her breasts through her bra, and stopped them from feeling her thighs above her nylons.
"like this?" he asked as his hand moved under her skirt and caressed the expanded nylon top.
A moment later, he bent over her and, pulling the skirt up a little, pressed a moist kiss on the top of her nylon. When his mouth moved higher to kiss the smooth skin of her thigh, she made no move to stop him. A little cry broke from her throat, but it was a cry of passion rather than protest and the man knew it.
As if to solidify his victory, Tom took her hand and placed it on the bulge of his aroused penis. She required no urging to close her hand around the hard form which throbbed so that she could feel the strong life of it even through his trousers.
When she had held it for a few seconds, he gently moved her hand away and reached for the zipper. He began to move it down slowly.
"I'm going to show it to you now, Joan," he said in an exciting whisper. "Have you ever touched one?"
"No."
'Then you will in a moment. You'll take it in your hands and feel how strong and alive it is. Here."
Her eyes went wide as she saw the pole of live flesh standing up under her face. Without being told to again, she reached for it and wrapped her hand first around the shaft, then the blood filled, swollen head which felt like velvet.
Drawing her close then, Tom kissed her mouth more passionately than any boy had ever done. His penis gave a lurch when her tongue came out to meet his, and her firm young breasts stabbed at him. He began to unbutton her blouse.
"Are you going to strip me?" she asked with a little sob.
"That's right, Joan. First I'm going to take off your blouse and bra. You'll find out how it feels when a man fondles your titties and takes them in his mouth to suck them until your pretty nipples get hard."
Her blouse fell away and he expertly released the catches at the back of her bra. A moment later, they both looked down to admire the exciting beauty of her firm young, pink tipped breasts.
She sighed when his strong hands closed gently over them and commenced a gentle massage which caused her entire body to squirm delightfully.
When, in a little while, she saw his face come down to her, the open mouth hovering for a moment just above the already aroused nipple, Joan cried out for him to stop.
Despite her cry though, her body arched upward and the lovely orb pushed up to meet his descending mouth. It closed over the warm mound and his tongue began to rasp on the erect nipple as she cried out again.
While he sucked her breasts, his hands worked on the hook and zipper of her skirt. As he began to pull the skirt down, he saw her buttocks rise from the couch. The skirt went all the way down and only the little pair of clinging, white nylon panties hid her body from him. Through the fabric, he saw the foliage of her mons veneris and his hand brushed it. She trembled with desire.
"You're a beautiful woman, Joan," he whispered as his face pressed down toward her crotch, his mouth kissing, his tongue licking the warm nylon of her panties as her thighs, as with a will of their own, moved apart to offer to his eyes and his mouth, the narrow band of nylon which ran through her crotch and seemed to lose itself between the flaring buttocks.
His hands slipped under her to cup the magnificent cheeks and raise them as his face went into her crotch where he licked and kissed her sensitive inner thighs while she sobbed and trembled, terrified, yet so wildly aroused that she didn't want it to stop, ever.
His tongue licked the body warmed nylon with the touch of a master, and her thighs rubbed his face excitedly while her pretty bottom bounced up and down in his hands.
"Think how it's going to feel when I take your panties off and do this," he said, then lowered his face again and ran his tongue slowly along the full length of her crotch until he was licking the bottom slopes of her buttocks.
And then he was taking her panties down and she gave full and eager cooperation even while her girlish voice pleaded, "don't ... don't take my panties off ... don't."
"What a beauty," he breathed as he looked down and drew away the trembling hands which tried to hide the juncture of thighs and belly.
She allowed him to put her hands at her sides as he knelt up over her and began undressing quickly. It seemed like only a second later that he was stark naked, his body strong above her, his penis twitching in anticipation of the soft warmth of her virgin body.
Without speaking then, he turned her on the couch, parted weak, willing legs, and stared into her warm young crotch. In a minute, it became much warmer. His face filled it, his lips pressed urgently to her little pink, soft labia, then, with an aroused groan, he sent his tongue inside to explore the depths of her.
Joan sensed that if he had not been holding her, she would have thrown herself from the couch in her wild excitement. She could not keep her body still, did not even try. She was abandoning herself completely to the man who was such a skillful lover, abandoning herself to desire and fear which blended into a spell which carried her into another world, a world she had never known or even dreamed of.
While she still waited for the climax to shatter her body into a million pieces, he took his face out of her crotch and she cried for him to come back to her.
"In a little while, dear," he soothed as he lowered his strong body to her. "Right now, you're perfectly ready for the biggest moment of your life."
She saw his hand holding the penis which seemed to have grown even bigger. He probed between her thighs, pushed and pressed there until she felt the big head pushing into her.
Something told her that she would not be able to take so great a thing into the tiny opening of her vagina. She opened her mouth to cry out in protest, but it was too late. It was in her.
As she began to cry at the pain of the forced entry, he closed his mouth over her and swallowed another of her screams as he drove brutally into her.
For a moment, Joan thought she would die, then, she knew she would live after all and that life would never be the same again.
"There now, baby," he panted as he rested in her for just a few seconds, "it's all the way in. You've got it all inside you now. Just relax now, Joan, and I'll show you what it feels like to be a real woman."
She felt his muscles go tense again, and felt the long, hard pole draw almost all the way out of her vagina before he slowly pushed it all the way back in. There was still some pain, quite a lot of it, but it was less than it had been in the beginning when he ruptured her hymen.
The weight and strength of his body both crushed and delighted the former virgin as he alternated between holding his weight up and away from her, then crushing down with all his weight on her as his body slammed at her while his penis drove with the force of a piston, filling her vagina and rubbing the sensitive walls all the way.
And then he was tensing to ejaculate and the girl heard a series of groans break from his throat. Moments later, she felt his penis swell even more fully, then the hot spurts of his semen drove deeply into her.
Prior to that, there had been some enjoyment with the pain, but suddenly, she forgot about pain as her body drank his offering and her body jerked up toward him for more.
When, after he had lain on her, gasping for breath for a while, he finally withdrew his penis and climbed to his shaky knees, Joan was amazed to see what had happened to his penis.
What had been so big and strong, now dangled, drained and soft, glistening wet from its foray into the depths of her body. It filled her with a sense of pride that she could have done such a thing.
Sensing that it would be to his advantage to bring the girl a maximum of satisfaction, he bent over her, slipped a hand under her wet bottom and began to masturbate her with a long, strong finger.
It required very little manipulation before he felt a shudder, then held her closely as she achieved an orgasm.
They met again the following day in his apartment. This time, after slowly undressing the girl and fondling her all the while, he stripped naked, then brought her to climax via cunnilingus. She went mad with delight.
Sexual intercourse was still a little difficult for her, but he was patient and gentle and protracted the act long enough so that she enjoyed an orgasm just before he reached ejaculation.
I am pleased to say, that un-like so many girls who are introduced to sexual activity before they are mature enough to cope with it, Joan suffered no ill effects.
The older boys she dated after that were delighted and amazed to find that not only could they feel above her nylons, but that they were invited to strip her and have sexual intercourse.
After her skilled lover, they were terribly inept in the arts of love, but Joan took the time to teach them. Almost without exception, they were frightened when she asked for cunnilingus, but she invariably got her way. She made it clear that it was the price they were required to pay for sexual intercourse with her. They paid.
Despite her new interest in life, Joan's school marks stayed high as she learned that there was a time for sex and a time for other things.
She went on to a university where she continued to care for both her intellect and her bodily desire. Less than a year after graduation, she married a graduate engineer with whom she'd had an affair for more than eight months.
More than six years later, she and her husband are still extremely happy. I know of her story because Joan is a close personal friend and told it to me in detail.
She has no regrets about her early seduction, and I see no reason why she should have.
That is not to say that I approve of seduction of children by adults. On the contrary, while I approve of any sexual acts between consenting adults (including homosexuality if it pleases them) I consider seduction of the young to be a dangerous thing, as many of the case histories here will show.
CASE HISTORY Carol
In a typical suburb of a typical big city, Carol was a typical sixteen year old middle class girl. She was pretty, intelligent and personable.
She dated one boy and necked with him while exchanging the words of love, but was a virgin and had never masturbated. As is so often the case, fear of pregnancy, rather than any sense of religious morality, proved to be a good guardian of her virginity.
like many of the girls she knew, Carol augmented her allowance by baby sitting. Since it permitted her to earn money while doing her studying, it seemed much preferable to giving up the freedom of her weekends for part time jobs in stores as some other girls did.
Since many of the children she cared for were babies, Carol chose not to wear her good clothes on her baby sitting assignments. Babies, she had learned, have an uncanny ability to find a way of spoiling nice dresses. Instead, her usual costume' consisted of a shirt or blouse and denim pants.
Her figure was such that men looked longingly at her as she walked or bent, her plump buttocks straining the material. Carol was aware of that, and feminine enough to enjoy it, this was especially true in the case of adult males. It made her feel very grown up to excite a married man, even though she had no intention of going any farther than that.
One of her most regular clients, lived only a half dozen blocks away. The husband, a man in his early forties was one of the men she knew who was most appreciative of her tight pants and told her so, with glances and smiles, when his wife was not on the scene.
More than once, as he ushered her into the car to drive her home after a baby sitting assignment at his house, Carl, the husband, managed to brush against her. She knew it was no accident, and found it quite exciting.
During one ride home, after he had brushed against her while letting her into the car, he put his hand on her leg. Nervous then, she told him to stop and he did. When she went to her room that night, the thought of his hand on her thigh stayed with her so that she wondered whether or not it would have been fun to let him feel her up a little.
Little more than a week later, Carol was called to that same house. This time, the woman went out alone explaining that her husband was working late and would join her at the party if he could get away in time.
To Carol's surprise, the man returned home shortly after nine o'clock. When she told him that his wife was expecting him to join her at the party, he told her he was too tired to go and would rest for a while instead and watch television with her.
Carol sensed a tension in the air, and tried to concentrate on television, but still the tension remained. Before long, she saw that he felt it too.
'Tell me, Carol," the man said after a little pause, "is it true that some girls don't wear panties under their tight pants?"
"I ... I guess so," she stammered.
"You always wear panties, don't you?" he went on.
"Yes," she felt herself blushing a little and that angered her. She didn't want to act like a silly kid in the presence of the man.
"I know," he went on. "I can tell because when you bend, I can see the outline of them. A man finds that a very exciting thing, you know."
Carol would have returned her attention to television as a means of escape, but he wouldn't permit it. Instead, he kept the conversation on that subject.
He told her of a party he and his wife had attended where a beautiful young woman wore leather pants which clung to her buttocks and thighs, and told how, late in the party, she did a little dance for them while slowly lowering her pants to reveal that she wore no panties under them.
He asked intimate questions about how her boy friend liked her in tight pants, and whether she allowed him to feel them while they were necking.
It was not long before his excitement was communicated to the girl so that she answered all his questions, including an admission that when they kissed good night, she allowed her boy friend to rub the seat of her pants and pat them a little in a light spanking motion.
"I'll bet he enjoys that," the man said in a low voice. 'They look like nice firm cheeks. Any man would love to feel them. What is your hip measurement?"
'Thirty-seven," she replied nervously.
"Is that right across the biggest part?"
She assured him it was.
"Does he ever spank you? I mean really spank, not just pat."
"Of course not."
"You sound as if spanking is something terrible. Lots of people spank each other for fun. My wife and I do it to each other often."
"You're kidding," Carol countered.
"You think so? I'll show you," he said as he got up and hurried out of the room.
In a moment, he returned with an envelope. Opening it, he withdrew a Polaroid snap and passed it to her. Sure enough, it showed him sitting naked with his wife lying across his lap. Her skirts were tossed over her back and her panties were down around her knees.
It was a color picture and showed redness on both checks of her bottom. His hand was poised above in readiness to land another spank.
"Doesn't she mind?" Carol asked in wonder.
"Mind? Are you kidding? She loves it and so do I. We have some friends who dig it too, and sometimes two or three couples get together and we spank each other. What do you think of the picture?"
"Wow, that's really something. Your wife has a very nice figure."
"Mine isn't bad either," he said with a grin as he reached into the envelope and withdrew another picture which he handed to her.
Carol gave a little gasp as she looked at it. This time, his wife was doing the spanking. She sat on a straight chair, her big, firm looking breasts jutting firmly, pink tips fully aroused as she spanked the man who lay nude over her lap. Instead of her hand, she used the back of a hair brush and had produced a nice redness in his buttocks.
"Wouldn't you like to spank someone like that?" he asked.
"I ... I don't know. I didn't know people enjoyed spanking."
"People enjoy lots of things, Carol. I've got some really wild pictures here of other things my wife and I do. Want to see some more?"
Without waiting for an answer, he passed her another picture. This one showed his wife standing with her feet braced wide apart. She was bending over and gripping the arms of a chair.
Across her nude buttocks were three sharply drawn red lines. In his hand, Carl held a thin switch, ready to draw a fourth line. Carol's hand trembled as she handed the picture back to him.
"Wow," she repeated, "those are really some pictures."
"I have some more exciting ones than that," he told her as he dropped a hand onto her thigh lightly. "We take lots of pictures making love in all different positions. They're really something. Want to see some?"
"Yes," she heard herself reply.
"Then you will. They show everything, and I mean everything. First though, I want to demonstrate something."
As he said it, he placed the envelope down on the floor beside the couch.
"What do you mean?" she asked, obviously concerned.
"I just want to give you a little spank on the seat of your pants."
"No, don't," she almost sobbed.
"Come on now, Carol," he urged as he began to turn her over, "don't act like a silly little girl. I'm just going to give you a spank on your pants. It won't hurt."
Carol was still arguing when he turned her right over his leg and spanked her on the right cheek. It didn't hurt at all, and there was something exciting about the way his hand squeezed after the spank had been delivered.
For good measure, he spanked the other side and again squeezed the firm cheek. Quickly then, he helped her sit up and told her how nice and firm her bottom was.
While she still fought her nervousness, he took another picture out of the envelope and handed it to her.
The picture showed his wife still bending over the same chair, but there were differences. This time, there were a number of red fines across her buttocks and even a few on her upper thighs. But there was a bigger difference. Her husband was standing nude, close behind her. Half the length of his erect penis was showing, the other portion of it was buried between her thighs and under her buttocks. She was turned toward the camera and smiling.
There were many more pictures, including some which showed him performing cunnilingus on his wife, and she kneeling to entrap his penis in her mouth. Another showed the woman bending over the chair again while he inserted his erect penis into her anus.
Reaching behind the chair, he produced the hair brush and handed it to the girl who was barely able to hold onto it in her nervousness and arousal.
"Can you imagine yourself spanking a man on the bare behind with that?" Carl asked.
As he spoke, he stood, removed his jacket, tossed it aside and began opening his pants.
"No, don't," she sobbed. "I mustn't. It ... it..."
He took his pants and shorts down in one quick jerk, and Carol stared directly at his big, erect, throbbing penis. He posed there for just a moment, then he was lying on her thighs, urging her to spank him as hard as she could.
Carol began with difficulty, but was soon thrilling to the sound and feel of the spanking she was administering and the growing redness of his nude buttocks. As he writhed and bucked over her lap, she felt the hardness of his penis as it rubbed against her.
After she had given him what she guessed was about thirty spanks, he scrambled off her lap and pulled his shorts up. He kicked off his shoes first, then stepped out of his pants and sat on the couch.
While he told her he would give her a light sample of spanking on her panties, he was fumbling with the opening of her pants. She begged him not to do it, but she did not attempt to get away or to stop his hands.
She was still protesting weakly when he pushed her tight pants down off her behind and pulled her across his lap.
"What a lovely, ass, Carol," he panted. "I'd love to cover it with kisses for you."
Carol said nothing because she did not know what to say. He spanked sharply then and she gave a little gasp. As if afraid he would scare her, he made the next spank lighter.
"That doesn't really hurt, does it dear?" he asked as he went on spanking.
"No ... I ... guess not she managed just before his big hand slapped again.
And then there was a pause in the spanking and he was telling her he would give her a little sample of bare bottom spanking. She was still asking him not to, when she felt her little panties being pulled well down her thighs. When they caught in her crotch, he freed them with two fingers which seemed to electrify her at their touch. No fingers other than her own had ever been between her thighs.
First, Carl patted and rubbed the firm, silken cheeks, then he began spanking them, his hand moving from one to the other. Again, he spanked only lightly, just enough to impart a nice tingle, a tingle more exciting than she would have expected.
And then he stopped spanking and bent to kiss the lightly pinked buttocks. She didn't have the strength to try to stop the man as she felt him pulling her panties right off. In a moment, his kisses moved from her buttocks to her thighs and she gave a desperate little cry. Carol was hooked and she knew it.
The man obviously knew it too, but he continued to move with caution for fear of alarming her and breaking the mood. He moved from the couch to kneel beside it so easily that it escaped Carol's notice.
The next thing she knew was that he was no longer kissing her thighs at all. Instead, he was holding them up and apart and his face was pressed between them. She emitted a long, broken wail as she felt his mouth pressing down hotly on her vulva.
'Take your blouse off now, Carol," he panted as he raised his face between her thighs.
Obediently, Carol jerked the buttons open and almost tore the garment off. Her bra was suddenly too confining, so without being told, she unfastened it and threw it away. She felt her hands close around her breasts.
Farther down on the couch, the man was taking his clothes off with frantic haste.
Carl was detoured from his intention of taking her virginity at once by the sight of her aroused breasts which she continued to fondle. Crawling over her, he moved her hands off the firm, silken globes and replaced them with his own.
At once, he felt her become more aroused. Her arousal flared higher as he took a breast into his mouth and began to suck it. Carol was so lost in ecstasy that she was not aware of the man moving between her widely parted legs until she felt the hardness of his penis probing the warmth of her crotch.
As she felt a penis forcing a path into her vagina for the first time, Carol cried out in fear and protest, but it was too late. It became a case of the fine line between seduction and rape then, but the man was so carried away with passion, that he did not concern himself with lines except for the curved lines of her luscious young body.
The next cry she emitted was one of pain, but that did not stop him either. He had lusted after her young body too long. It was his for the taking now and he was determined to take it all the way.
Carol was still begging him to stop and crying in pain when he pressed the last of his penis into her and felt the rubbing of their bodies.
Pausing then, he noticed her pants on the floor beside the couch. He recalled how they looked when stretched over the contours of her bottom. As he did, he reached under her and cupped the smooth firmness of her buttocks. Raising her up to meet him, he began stroking.
Carl had become animalistic in his lust, and the pace of his stroking was pure animal. There was no thought of Carol's pleasure or even comfort. Her crying only seemed to stimulate him to a more furious condition as he worked his penis in and out of her until he could hold back his ejaculation no longer.
With a roar, he crushed down on her perspiration covered body and emptied the product of his arousal into the depths of the young body.
Carol still sobbed gently for a long time after the act of sexual intercourse had been completed. His passion slacked, Carl felt sympathy for the girl then. Holding her close, he comforted her as best he could, while telling her that even though there had been pain for her, she would be thankful since it had opened her body and prepared her for all the joys of womanhood.
Gradually, her tears subsided and they both dressed. He showed her the pictures again, pointed out the expression of sheer ecstasy on his wife's face as she was being spanked and receiving cunnilingus and anal intercourse, and assured the girl that all this joy could be hers in the future.
When she seemed completely under control, he suggested that they dress and he would take her home. Leaving the children sleeping, he hurriedly drove the girl home, rubbed her thighs a little, then let her out of the car.
Carol brooded silently for a couple of days, then, memories of her seduction grew warmer until they reached the hot state of passion. She accepted a date with a senior at school who had a reputation for making out.
She did nothing to damage his reputation that night. Minutes after he parked the car, his hands were under her dress and she was opening her legs to make a path for him.
Hurrying out of the car, he spread a blanket on the cool grass. As he did, Carol was stepping out of her panties with passion gleaming in her eyes. Pushing his pants and shorts down, the young man hurriedly joined her on the blanket.
With only a minimum of foreplay, he pressed between her eagerly opened thighs and was surprised at the tightness of her vagina as he pushed into her.
There was no fear to hamper her this time, and Carol experienced an orgasm before the act was completed.
It was the first of many such dates for her as she began to live for sex only and found many eager takers. Two months after the end of the school term, she announced to her parents that she was going to marry.
They protested, but she informed them that if they did not give their approval, she would get pregnant. That threat of shame did the trick.
Within a couple of months of marriage, Carol began to learn of the difference between sex and love. It was a painful lesson. The marriage lasted almost a year, then ended when her husband vanished without warning. Carol was three months pregnant at the time.
She quickly deteriorated both physically and mentally until a friend reported her plight to a social worker who took a deep interest in her.
Carol was hospitalized, but not in time to avoid the miscarriage which relieved her of the unwanted child. It was not the end of her trouble though.
Her body began to recover, but her mind could not do the same. A psychiatrist was called in and she began the long, uphill fight back to being able to cope with life.
The fight still goes on, but Carol is young and will, both her psychiatrist and I are confident, be restored to a healthy state.
Still, she has experienced much for one so young and there may always be some scars. One cannot say what life would have been for her had she not been seduced when she was only sixteen, but one is left with the feeling that it could have been much better.
CHAPTER II BOYS THE EAGER VICTIMS
Much has been written about the seduction of boys by mature women. Still, like any other subject, it can never be completely written, and must surely be included in any work of this nature.
Society concerns itself with the preservation of virginity in the young female, and tends not to be aware that their boys too can fall prey to the adult predator, the woman who achieves sexual gratification in the seduction of previously innocent boys.
Why do they do it? What do boys provide that men do not? Can a boy truly satisfy a woman sexually? The questions have been asked and the answers are in the files.
One such woman who is known to me, a teacher in her early forties, summed it up for most of them. Here is how she tells about it.
"A boy, especially if he has never seen or touched the body of a woman, can provide thrills that no man can match. He is eager and trembling in the early stages. The more recently he has arrived at puberty, the better it is for me. Twelve to fifteen is the perfect age.
"I like to bring him along slowly by crossing and uncrossing my legs, giving him teasing glimpses of woman skin. I like to talk and make him talk. I hear his voice quiver and know how aroused he is. I guide his hand over my body through my clothes and tell him what it looks like when it is bare.
"Gradually, I allow him to see and touch a little more, but always stop his hands just short of where he wants to get them. At this stage, I open his pants and take his hard little penis out. Often, at this stage, a boy will actually cry. I love that.
"Usually, I open the front of my dress first and let him see my bra. I tell him what breasts look and feel like and what it is like to suck them. I slowly raise my dress and show him my thighs and panties, front and back. I can see him sweating and trembling and it is so exciting, that I have actually achieved orgasm this way without being touched.-
"To be right, such a seduction should take at least two hours. I have carried some boys along for as much as four hours before completing the seduction with sexual intercourse.
"What man could endure such excitement for so long? The mature man wants to get your panties off and get into you. To him, it's just another hole. With an innocent boy, you are the whole world. He will do anything and everything you tell him. He fills you with a sense of excitement and power that cannot be duplicated in any other way."
There was more, much more, along the same line. In fact, she was and is a most effective propagandist for the cause of the seductress of the young and tells me that she has introduced a few women friends to the game and has shared boys with them during orgies in her home.
Where does she find her victims? "Everywhere. I have never yet met a boy who would not give anything in the world to look under a woman's dress, to see and touch the mystery of her."
And in this, of course, she is quite correct. Boys see the shape of women through clothing. It is enough to excite and make them curious, to make them want to see more, and to touch mature breasts, buttocks and thighs.
Usually, they find their outlet through fantasy and masturbation. The more daring ones will search for ways to peek into windows to view what has been hidden from his eyes, but my studies show that, almost without exception, the boy, given the opportunity of seduction, runs eagerly to meet it.
The case histories we shall use to illustrate these points, have not been selected because they are outstanding in any respect. Rather, they have been chosen as typical, average.
If they smack of the sensational, then it is because the subject is of that nature. Life, after all, is a series of sensations. Of them all though, few incidents could be of greater import than that first time a young boy is introduced to the mystery of the female body.
This has always been so because it is human nature at its most fundamental. For a closer examination of this facet of human nature, let us look at a few case histories.
CASE HISTORY Dean
The word one would use most often in describing this thirteen year old boy, would be "average". That same word would describe his attitude toward sex.
He masturbated two or three times a week, usually while looking at a foundation garment ad or a picture of a woman in a bathing suit or otherwise partially exposed.
Dean had never seen female breasts or buttocks, but he longed to. He spent much of his spare time at a nearby swimming pool where he spent more time admiring the girls and women in their clinging bathing suits than he did actually swimming.
Always, he felt an urge to feel them, but he managed to resist it. An afternoon at the swimming pool usually meant a masturbation as soon as he reached home.
(In the event that any reader may think this is not average for a boy of that age, I insist on the basis of my studies and discussions with male friends, that Dean was very average indeed.)
In spite of this, it was not at the swimming pool, but in a quiet suburban home a few doors away from his own that Dean experienced his first touch of woman.
Enid was thirty-eight years old, divorced, and the mother of two younger children. Her body, while a little on the heavy side, was still attractive.
She knew Dean because he often ran errands and did chores around the house for her. Recently, she had been aware of the strange way he stared at her when he thought she was not looking.
To her surprise, she found this exciting and set out to increase her fun. She would wear tight shorts when he was around and find excuses to bend frequently. If she were wearing a dress, she would sit carelessly and show him a generous expanse of thigh.
As the boy became more and more excited, Enid made up her mind to seduce him. She scheduled the event for the following afternoon and sent her two children to a double feature matinee so that she would have the privacy she wanted.
Although she had not enjoyed sexual intercourse in more than two months, it was not so much that she wanted, as the thrill of watching the boy's excitement and knowing how he would tremble at the sight and touch of her body.
On Saturday, Dean arrived shortly after noon, just as the children were leaving in the company of an older girl Enid had paid to accompany them. He wore jeans and an open shirt. It was obvious that he was prepared to work, and Enid smiled as she thought of how inappropriate his working clothes would be for the job she had in mind for him. Only bare skin would be required for that.
As they exchanged greetings, Dean started for the cellar to get the lawn mower, but she stopped him and suggested they relax for a little while first. She got him a Coke and chose a Scotch for herself.
As she sat opposite him, she slowly crossed her legs and began the seduction. Under her dress, a fashionably short one, Enid wore her best sheer nylons, black bra and panties, and a black garter belt. She was freshly bathed and perfumed.
Pretending to look away, Enid used peripheral vision to see that he was staring at her legs. Idly, she scratched at a pretending itch and raised the skirt of her dress a little.
Looking back at him then, she smiled warmly. Knowing he had been caught peeking at her, the boy blushed.
"Don't be embarrassed, Dean," she said gently, "I don't mind having you look at my legs."
As if to confirm her statement, she took the hem of her dress between two fingers and raised it higher. With her other hand, she caressed her leg just below the expanded top of the nylon.
Guiding the conversation carefully, her arousal mounting as much as that of the boy, Enid established that he had seen nothing of women beyond what they showed in a bathing suit or street clothes.
It was just what she had suspected, but confirmation of it sent thrills surging through her entire body.
"When you look at a woman in a tight, wet bathing suit, Dean," she asked in a passionate whisper, "don't you want to reach out and rub your hands over her ass?"
"Uh ... yeah ... I guess. How did you know?" he asked in nervous discomfort.
"I know a lot of things, Dean. A lot of very interesting things. I'll bet you'd love to rub my behind if I had a nice tight bathing suit on."
Enid was not disappointed when he did not reply. She was aware that in his excited state, talking was not easy.
"Nylon feels nice too, Dean," she said as she raised a long leg and displayed it generously. "Come and touch my nylon and see how it feels."
like one walking in his sleep, the bo walked wide eyed to her chair. His knees were trembling, there was perspiration on his forehead.
"Don't be afraid, Dean," she encouraged in a whisper. "I think I'm going to like feeling your hand on my leg. I always enjoy being felt by a man, especially a strong young one like you."
Taking his hand, she felt it tremble violently as she guided it to her leg, midway between knee and nylon top.
'There now, Dean. Feel my leg and tell me if you like it."
Enid felt his hand close over her leg. At the same moment, she slid an arm behind him and held him closely.
"Move you hand around if you like, dear," she said in the same warm whisper and felt his hand begin to move over her nylon at once.
Anxious to bring the boy even more completely under her spell, Enid guided his body and pressed down until a few seconds later, he was kneeling between her legs, both his hands rubbing and feeling her.
Slowly then, she raised her skirt higher until Dean stared directly at the tightly drawn crotch of her black nylon panties and the bulge of her smoothly rounded mons veneris.
With a hand behind the boy's head, she drew him all the way into her crotch and pulled her dress over his head to confine him with the silken warmth and odor of her lush body. Instantly, her hands moved to the fastening of her dress. In a moment, she pulled it off her arms and down to her waist.
His eyes were shining as she looked into his sweaty face, then he saw her bra encased breasts and gave a cry of excitement. Helping him to his feet, Enid invited him to sit beside her on the couch and feel what he stared at with such intensity. He was quick to accept the invitation.
For a long time, while she encouraged him to fondle and squeeze her breasts through the warm, smooth cups, Enid told him how men sucked breasts when they made love to a woman in the proper way. As she pressed his face into the wide white valley between the black cups, she felt the moisture of lips and tongue and knew he was going to cater to her every whim.
"Please take it off and let me see them," he begged, his voice muffled between the mounds of warm flesh.
"In a little while, Dean," she told him. "I want to take my dress off first and let you see how a woman looks in just bra and panties."
Moving him a little away from her, Enid stood and pulled her dress down over her flaring hips. Allowing it to fall to her feet, she bent with her back to him and picked it up very slowly, then walked across the room, her buttocks moving with a slow, insinuating rhythm inside the nylon sheath of her panties, to drape the dress over the back of a chair. She came back to him then and thrilled at what she saw in his eyes.
"Oh, Mrs. G., " he sobbed, "you're the most beautiful woman in the world."
'Thank you, Dean," she replied with a lovely smile. "I hope you will think so when you see me bare naked in just a little while."
"Do you mean that?"
"Of course I do, Dean. I'll be bare naked and you will touch me and kiss me all over. For now though, I want you to take your clothes off."
"All of them, Dean. I want to look at you. I think you'll like showing your naked body to a woman. Hurry up now, dear. Strip."
Nervously, the boy began to unbutton his shirt. She kept excitement mounting by doing things to her clothes as she watched and waited, adjusting the cups of her bra, pulling nylons and panties up more tightly, assuring that there were no wrinkles, and finally, opening her legs wider and running the palm of her hand along the crotch of her panties while sighing deeply.
As Dean pushed his shorts down and stepped out of them shyly, the woman moved to him without a word and, bending, held his buttocks with one hand while the other closed around his small, erect penis and began to stroke it lightly back and forth.
"Is this the way you do it to yourself?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Well you won't have to from now on. Instead, you'll put it in my nice hot (vagina) and (sexual intercourse) me like a man. Do you want to do that?"
"Oh yes. Please. Show me how."
"In time, Dean, in time," she replied, spanking his buttocks lightly. "For now though, let's go to the bedroom where we shall have more room to play in my nice big bed."
Dean went with her more than willingly. He still couldn't believe it was true and not a dream, but when he felt the motion of her buttocks as they walked, the boy knew that a dream couldn't feel like that.
As they sat on the bed, Enid drew him into a passionate embrace and used her tongue to kiss him properly. As they rolled on the bed, she felt his small, hard penis jabbing at her and slapped his buttocks sharply to keep him moving and rubbing her.
Enid sat up then and began to unfasten the catches of her bra. She did it with a slowness that was deliberate as she watched the boy's face. At last, it was open and Enid, still working very slowly, removed it, one cup at a time as Dean writhed in passion such as he had never before known.
"Do you like them, Dean?" she whispered as she twisted her body so that they swayed wildly.
"Oh yes," he croaked.
"Then come and show me, darling. Make me know how you like them."
Dean almost threw himself at her as he caught one firm melon in each hand and rubbed madly.
'Tour mouth now, Dean. Use your mouth. This is what you want to do when you see those women at the swimming pool. Now is your chance, darling. Suck me. Suck me hard."
His face fell against her and his wide open mouth closed over a sensitive nipple. Instinct told him what to do and he did it well so that she too was writhing as he had writhed before.
Enid allowed him to stay on her breasts until both her nipples felt raw and almost painful. Then, she pushed him gently away and told him she was going to take her panties off for him.
Getting off the bed, she stood with her back to him and did a little dance that did not involve moving her feet. He was panting as he sat with his face just inches from the nylon encased mounds.
Already it was more exciting than any bathing suit he had ever seen. Through the material, he saw the shadowy cleavage of her buttocks. And then her hands reached to grasp the waistband and her panties began the erotic slide down over the full roundness of her ample buttocks.
Enid pushed them down slowly, baring her plump bottom a little at a time. Because she bent from the waist, the big, smooth cheeks arched toward the boy. When the nylon cleared her behind, she paused for a moment so that he was able to see the white mounds perfectly framed by the black garter belt and the black panties stretched between parted thighs. She caused her body to sway a little, and the boy grasped his throbbing penis as he stared, panting.
Bending more deeply, Enid dropped her panties to her feet, then slowly stepped out of them. The movements of her body were sheer poetry, erotic poetry.
She turned slowly then and gave him the full impact of the front of her body. With the tips of her fingers, she traced the outline of her pubic hair as she stood with her feet braced wide apart. Not even in his wildest sexual fantasies had Dean ever seen anything to compare with this.
"Do you like me, Dean?" she asked with a teasing smile.
"Oh yes. Please ... please ... please," Dean cried without knowing, really, what he was asking for.
"Very well, Dean dear," she said as she raised a long leg to kneel up on the bed. "First, I'm going to allow you to cover my ass with kisses and lick it nicely all over."
In seconds, Enid was kneeling with her head down and her buttocks up high. The boy wrapped his arms tightly around her and began kissing the cheeks. For a long time, the woman said nothing, content to merely sigh and twitch a little while the eager mouth kissed and the rough tongue licked the firm silken hills.
"Now Dean," she said urgently, "pull them apart and get your tongue right in. Hurry." Her behind swayed madly as she instructed him.
She felt his hands parting the big cheeks, felt his hot breath on her anus, then his mouth was there. A moment later, he began to lick all the way up and down the sheltered valley. When he had done so until liquid trickled down her thighs, he groaned, pulled her more tightly to his face, then pressed on her anus with his tongue.
He had wanted to do it from the moment he parted the big cheeks and saw the little pink ring. Now, it became something he had to do. He had to force his tongue into that tight hole, as far in as he could get it.
He heard her cries of passion and desire and knew that by instinct he had done the right thing. He went on doing it then and became even more ardent. Dean had no intention of stopping, but the woman made the decision for him by pulling away from his mouth and falling to the bed.
"Oh you darling boy," she panted as her hand went back to stroke between her buttocks. "You've made me raw with your sweet tongue. I'll give you your reward now for being such a wonderful lover."
"Reward?" he asked nervously.
"Yes Dean. Don't you want to see what a woman looks like between her legs?"
"Oh yes," he gasped.
Smiling excitedly, Enid raised her knees and kept them close together until they were up high. Listening to sounds of labored breathing from both of them, she swung her legs wide apart and almost climaxed as she saw the expression on the boy's face as he stared in wonder at the revealed crotch, the first he had ever seen.
"Kiss it, Dean," she urged. "Kiss it like you did to my ass. Get your tongue right inside."
Clumsily, the boy scrambled toward her with his face being brushed by the silk of her lush inner thighs until his mouth pressed on her vulva. To Dean, there seemed to be a million sensations at the same time.
He felt the tickling pubic hair, the comforting, smooth warmth of her thighs, the delicious heat of her vagina as his tongue probed, and the musky, mysterious odor of woman that caused his head to reel until he thought he would faint.
The woman filled the room with sighs and grunts as he licked while her body never stopped bouncing and writhing. And then all her grunts combined in a long drawn cry of joy that seemed to originate deep in her belly and grew in intensity.
It frightened Dean, but he did not move his face out of her crotch until she told him to and pushed him away at the same time. When breath returned, she told him that he had given her an orgasm and that it had been wonderful.
As if noticing the erect state of his penis for the first time, she moved a little on the bed, then called to him to get between her legs for sexual intercourse.
Despite his ignorance of sexual matters, Dean functioned quite well and, with only a minimum of assistance, he fitted his penis easily into her hot, wet vagina. It is hardly surprising that after only a few strokes, he ejaculated strongly as her arms tightened around him and her body pressed upward to meet and rub at his.
Over the next few weeks, Dean visited Enid as often as she would permit it. During these visits, she introduced him to the whole catalogue of sex, and his joy was boundless. It also proved to be short lived.
When Enid found a mature lover, she lost interest in the boy. When she sent him away, telling him it was all over, he cried for a long time as he saw life stretching out ahead of him, cold and black and empty.
A few days later, he tried to return to masturbating, but it was no longer the same. Looking at a picture of a woman in bra and girdle was nothing after the remembered thrill of holding a naked woman.
Torn by desire, he began walking the streets, looking at mature women and imagining them raising their dresses so that he could see and fondle buttocks and thighs.
One day, he noticed a woman stepping onto an escalator just ahead of him. As they went up, he was overpowered by an urge to look under her dress. Checking behind and finding the coast clear, he bent and looked straight up under her dress.
She wore a girdle, but no panties. Following the line of her thighs straight up, he saw the lower portion of her big buttocks below the girdle and managed a partial view of her crotch.
He spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around places where there were escalators that were not too busy. His diligence and daring were rewarded with many views of thighs, panties and girdles. He kept hoping for a woman without either panties or girdle, but did not get his wish.
Hurrying home then, he stripped naked and slowly masturbated as he recalled the thrilling sights of the day.
It became a regular pattern then. At every opportunity, he would follow women up escalators and look up under their clothes.
From time to time, a woman would turn and catch him in the act, or another person would get on the escalator behind them. Invariably, he would break and run while the victim, or a witness below, was still held immobile by surprise. He found a new thrill in that. It offered a challenge, a form of danger that was as erotic as the thrill of looking up at a panty clad behind and smooth, white thighs.
The danger led to his downfall. One day, as a woman whose buttocks were only partially covered by bikini panties, reached the top of the escalator at street level, Dean pushed both hands up her dress and grabbed the partially sheathed cheeks hungrily.
The woman screamed, and he ran. Minutes later, Dean stopped to rest. He had made good his escape. His hands tingled with the remembered thrill of having felt a woman's bottom again.
It became his new game. He would follow a woman up an escalator, tense as she reached the top, then grab her with both hands on her posterior. Before the woman could recover from the shock, he would be gone.
There was a new thrill then as he began to read stories in the newspaper of the exploits of 'The Junior Grabber." Carried away by that thrill, as well as the others, he did not realize that the police would be watching every escalator in his area of operation. His career lasted two more days before the strong hand of a policeman closed around his arm.
His parents were shocked at hearing that their son, a model boy in their eyes, was The Junior Grabber. After the shock, came long discussions with juvenile court officers, and agreement that the boy should be placed in an institution where he could receive psychiatric care.
He is still in that institution and seems to be making progress. As we hope for complete recovery in Dean's case, we cannot fail to see how his life was changed from that of an ordinary boy with an ordinary sexual drive, to satisfy the lust of a mature woman who wanted an exciting toy to play with.
There are many cases where boys are seduced by woman without adverse results, but there is always a danger. When a boy is introduced to sex before he is emotionally ready to cope with it, then has it taken away from him, there is the frightening danger that he will seek a substitute.
That substitute can be manifested in many ways, including the rape of young girls. It is the real danger involved when a woman seduces a boy.
CASE HISTORY David
At fifteen, David was a clean cut, bright, athletic boy. He preferred baseball and football to girls and was, with the exception of masturbation, sexually inexperienced.
When masturbating, he did not think of girls at all, but instead, concentrated on mature women such as teachers and friends of his mother. Girls, to him, were noisy, flighty and too prone to giggle. Women, on the other hand, appealed to him because of their smooth figures and more placid nature.
During baseball games, he constantly looked into the stands and thrilled when he had an opportunity to see the thighs of a mature woman. He would ignore a girl who sat so that he could see her panties if, instead, he could see a portion of the thighs of a mature woman wearing nylons. When a woman sat in such a way that her panties showed, he had difficulty concentrating on the game.
The transformation from visual to physical participation in sex with a mature woman came about, as so frequently happens, quite by chance.
It was an early Sunday afternoon and David found himself with nothing to do. Bored, he decided to call on one of his pals and throw a baseball around for an hour or so.
He arrived at the house just as his friend's mother, a thirty-five year old woman named Jean, was changing after a session of sunning on the patio. She had removed her sun suit in the living room and had to run to the bedroom for a negligee.
Greeting David, whom she knew and liked, Jean informed him that her son had gone with his father to visit his grandmother in another town and would not be back until late evening. Seeing how disappointed he was, she invited the boy in for a Coke.
The negligee was of sufficient substance to hide her body, yet it showed a strong suggestion of breasts and buttocks as it clung to her. As David followed her to the living room, he felt an instant arousal and was forced to hurriedly adjust the position of his penis so that the woman would not become aware of his condition.
"Have a seat, Dave," she said lightly, "while I get us both a drink. After an hour in that sun, I can really use something cool."
Alone in the room, David glanced down at the discarded sun suit. Instinctively, he picked up the halter top. The cups were big and warm from having held her breasts so recently.
He pressed a hand into one, then raised the garment to his nose and inhaled deeply.
He had never done such a thing before, and he thrilled at the sensation it provided. There was a delicate blending of perfume and perspiration.
Hurriedly, he dropped it to the floor and picked up the bottom of the suit. The rayon felt warm and silky in his hands as he held it in a crumpled ball for a few seconds and thought that only minutes ago, it had covered the most intimate parts of the woman's body.
His hands trembling, David opened his hands and held the suit bottom up to his face. It was so small, that he realized how a woman of her size wearing it would be so close to showing a bit of everything.
Turning it inside out, he saw a couple of pubic hairs curled against the white lining. He stared at them for an instant, then, holding the garment in both hands, he drew it to his face.
He was still holding it there when Jean returned with their drinks. She was barely able to stifle a gasp of surprise as she stepped back to delay her return long enough to decide what to do.
At first, she thought she would just ignore the whole thing, but quickly then, she felt sexual excitement flowing through her entire body.
She had just taken the suit off after having sweated in it for more than an hour. The odors of her body would be potent, the boy was inhaling deeply of them and it was clear that he had become very aroused.
If he could become so excited by fondling and inhaling her panties, she thought, then he would go wild at the sight and feel of her body. She found herself pressing her thighs tightly together at the thought of it.
It came as something of a shock to Jean. Never since she reached her late teens had boys ever held any interest for her, and yet, here she was becoming wildly aroused at the thought of the boy's excited state.
Jean had no specific plan, was in no condition to form one, but she knew she would be unable to resist the delicious temptation to add to his arousal in some way. They were alone in the house and she was bored. Now, she told herself, she was going to have some fun and give him some while she was about it.
Coughing to warn him, since she had decided against the shock of catching him in the act which could shatter him, she returned to the room with the drinks. His motion and the look of guilt on his face told her that he had just dropped the suit bottom to the floor in time.
As she sat on the couch beside him, Jean passed him his drink and raised hers in a toast.
"Here's to something to do on a dull Sunday afternoon," she said cheerfully.
"Boy, you're so right," David replied as he raised his glass and sipped the cold Coke.
"It is a dull day, isn't it?" she asked. "I hate Sunday afternoons."
"So do I. There's never anything to do."
"Well, there can be, when people work hard enough at finding something interesting to do."
"Maybe so," he agreed without enthusiasm, "but I sure didn't have any luck today."
"No?" she raised her eyebrows and put her glass down on the table by the couch. "I thought you had found something pretty interesting to do just a minute ago."
David's entire face blazed crimson in a blush that he was sure covered his entire body. It meant that she had caught him playing with her sun suit and sniffing it. He wished he could just disappear forever. He couldn't stand the thought of having to face her.
"Don't be embarrassed, dear," she said gently. "I know lots of men who enjoy doing that."
"I think you're just saying that."
'Truly, David. Before I was married, I dated a man who always came back to my apartment with me. He would take off the panties I had worn all evening and sniff them with his left hand while masturbating himself with his right."
"Is that true?" David wanted to know. "Didn't you think he was crazy?"
"Yes it's true and no I didn't think he was crazy. Why should I?"
"I don't know. I guess I do that because I've never done anything with a woman. Maybe after I do it will be different."
"Why don't you get a girl friend, David?"
"I don't like girls, they're too silly. I only like real women."
"That does make it kind of tough, doesn't it? Did you ever try with a woman?"
"No. I guess I'm afraid. You know."
"That's nothing to be ashamed of, Dave," she said as she slipped an arm around him and felt him quiver in surprise and excitement. "Do you like to have a woman's arm around you like this?"
"Oh yes."
"Then why not put an arm around me? I have nothing on under this negligee. It might feel good."
Jean saw beads of perspiration on his face as he looked at her, his eyes wide, his mouth partially open. His arm moved hesitantly behind her and she turned a little so that she pressed a breast against him. She felt his heart pounding hard and knew, in that moment, that she was going to go all the way and seduce him.
"Tell me what you like most about women, Dave," she whispered into his ear. "Tell me what excites you."
The boy was shy, but she led him through a confession of how he thrilled at the lines of well developed breasts, tight skirts or pants over big buttocks, and smooth white thighs in sheer nylons.
"You're very' sensitive, Dave," she encouraged him. "I'm sure you're going to become a really good lover. I'll bet it won't be long before you're in bed with a woman. You will be naked and so will she. You will do exciting things to her and she will love it and tell herself she is a very lucky woman to have you as a lover."
"But I'm only a kid," he almost cried the words. "What woman would want a dumb kid when she could have a man instead?"
"Lot's of women would, Dave," she replied as she rubbed a big breast against the front of his shirt. "Older men get too tired or too busy to take care of their wives. Young men are strong and hard, if you know what I mean. Do you really like breasts, Dave?"
"Yes."
"Do you think I have nice ones?"
"Yes." It was close to a shout.
David gave a little cry as he saw her fumbling with the top of her negligee. In a moment, it was partially open and she carried her left breast out to him.
It was a good breast, fully rounded and gleaming white against the dark tan of her body. The nipple stood out much bigger and longer than he would have expected.
'Take it in your hands and play with it, Dave," she said with a sigh. "I love having them played with. Make me feel good."
David did more than that, he took it in both hands. As he fondled the lovely globe, his mind reeled. Up to now, a breast had been nothing more than a picture or a vague dream while masturbating. Now, his hands held the silken warmth of a real one, his fingers toyed with a firm nipple and felt the continuing growth of it as it became more aroused.
Jean pulled the negligee down to her waist and offered him the other breast. He took it avidly and fondled both until she asked him to do it with his mouth. He granted her request eagerly.
No matter how much of the proffered breast he was able to cram into his mouth, David kept trying for more. Sighing, Jean kept pressing her body to him in a way that kept arousal building for both of them.
In a whisper, Jean asked whether he would like to see and feel her buttocks.
'They're nice, Dave," she assured him. "They're smooth and round and firm."
"Oh yes, yes," he panted. "I've always wanted to see a woman's ass."
Moving slowly, Jean turned over and lay on her stomach. Looking back over her shoulder, she invited the lad to raise the bottom of her negligee all the way up and admire her to his heart's content. She pressed her legs tightly together to save that one intimate region of her anatomy for viewing later so that it would trigger the ultimate arousal in him.
Listening to his labored breathing, Jean felt him pull the negligee up over the backs of her long, shapely legs to the point where, a little above her knees, the garment drew tight under her and foiled him.
Raising herself, she cleared it and he resumed pulling it up. David had stolen glances at mature female thighs in the past, but it had been nothing like this. The rich, tanned thighs were so close and so very smooth.
He wanted to pause in his erotic labors to kiss and feel them, but he was too anxious to unveil her buttocks. Also, he realized, there was that magic, forbidden area between her legs to be seen, but at the moment, it was something to be thought of later. Her thighs fanned out beautifully until he was almost to the glorious swells he so wanted to see.
Losing all control then, he jerked the negligee all the way up and gapsed aloud as he saw her nude posterior.
"Oh God," he gasped as he threw himself down on the twin hills, white above and below the rich tan.
For a long time, he rubbed her buttocks with his cheek and his hands, then turning his face a little, he began to cover the silken slopes with kisses and trace the curves with his tongue.
Jean writhed wildly under him and the motions of the smooth hills made them even more excitingly beautiful to him.
'Take your clothes off now, Dave," she panted as desire overcame her. "Hurry. Get naked and come to me."
As she watched the boy undress at a furious pace, Jean experienced a change of plan. She had been going to have him bring her to climax through cunnilingus, but that would have to wait. She saw his strong penis throbbing as he stepped out of his shorts, and knew where she had to have it, knew she had to have it there fast.
Kicking his shorts off, David turned to see her lying on her back, her legs wide open, knees drawn up.
"Give it to me, David. Hurry. Come to me. Come to me now."
Scrambling onto the couch above her, David hoped that instinct would tell him what to do so that he did not make a fool of himself. He had nothing to fear.
Her legs and arms drew him into position atop her sweating body. The negligee lay beneath her, a dazzling, blue silken sheet for their act of love and lust.
Jean's hand met his in her crotch. Together, the two hands guided the more than ready penis into the warmth of her hungry vagina.
"Now darling," she panted, "give it to me ... Oh yes ... Oh, that's it..."
She said more, much more, including words David had never heard a woman utter, but he was only vaguely aware of what she was saying. The most sensitive part of his entire body was buried into the warmth of a woman's belly. It was an ecstasy such as the boy had never experienced or imagined.
David tried manfully to hold on, to fight back ejaculation, but there was not a chance. Still, he had performed well and Jean climaxed just seconds before, groaning, his body jerking against hers, he emptied himself in a series of long, strong spurts while her legs and arms embraced him and her body writhed like an erotic serpent against him.
For a little while, they rested and regained something like normal breathing. Then they began to tell each other how good it had been.
The next time Jean was able to arrange a meeting with David, she was fully clad and wore her sexiest lingerie including a garter belt and sheer nylons.
After they had kissed for a long time, she undressed slowly for him and left the bra and panties for him to remove after he had stripped naked. That day, she taught him how to perform cunnilingus.
He enjoyed it immensely and thrilled at the sounds of her orgasm. After that, he was more than ready for their act of sexual intercourse.
Just when it was almost time to end their rendezvous, David achieved another erection. Eagerly, Jean fondled it for a few seconds as she told him what she was going to do.
He cried out when he saw her lick her lips, then close her head around the swollen meatus. She brought him to completion and he watched her jaws working as she devoured his semen.
They had six more meetings after that before David got a phone call from her husband asking him to call at the house at a specific time on Saturday afternoon.
There was something strange about the man's attitude as he ushered David into the house and led him toward the bedroom the boy had reason to know so well.
With a cry, David saw his woman love lying on the bed. She was naked and lying on her stomach. Her buttocks and upper thighs were a series of flaming welts. She still cried loudly and David guessed that the strapping had ended only when he arrived. Besides her on the bed, lay the doubled belt the man had used to beat his wife.
Surprisingly calm in his manner, the man informed David that his wife had been punished for having an affair with him. He went on to tell the boy, in a most convincing tone, that if they ever repeated such an act, or were ever seen together in any way, he would kill them both.
David got the message. As he walked numbly from the house, he knew that he would never see her again. Life, suddenly, seemed without promise. It was a depression that lasted for almost a week.
Then, there was another ball game. Late in the game, he saw a woman sit in the bleachers opposite his third base position. In age and appearance, she was much like Jean. As she sat, he looked up to see that she was showing a generous portion of sleekly nyloned thighs. He looked again.
This time, she caught him, but the sexually experienced lad was quite different from the old David. Boldly, he kept on staring. To his delight, her knees moved slowly apart to show him more.
After the game, he saw that she was still hanging around the exit gate. Leaving his team mates, he hurried toward her, winked as he passed her, and walked through the gate to the street.
A minute later, she was walking beside him and they were talking. She was separated from her husband, her son was in the army, her daughter away at school. She had a nice apartment not far from the ball park. He went with her, his heart pounding, a churning sensation building in his loins.
He proved to be an adept lover and the woman was delighted.
David is married now and building a good career in business. He and his wife are ideally suited to each other and he is a devoted father to his two children.
At the time of his marriage, he was twenty-five and his wife twenty-two. She was the youngest woman with whom he had ever had a sexual affair. His wife becomes starry eyed when she talks about what a wonderful lover her husband is, and gives thanks to the older women who provided him with such a wonderful apprenticeship.
Here then, is a case where seduction of a boy by a mature woman proved to be a blessing to the victim. Not many wives are given such tremendous sexual satisfaction by a young husband.
CASE HISTORY Joe
Joe was the product of a broken home, his father having left when the boy was ten and his sister eight. The shock was great for both children, but Joe took it harder and experienced a striking change of personality.
Where previously, he had been a happy, pleasant child, he became morose. The next manifestation of his disturbance came in the form of stealing. He would steal money from his mother and from his sister's piggy bank. Once, he was brought home by a local store owner who had caught him pilfering.
like so many persons, his mother convinced herself that he was simply passing through a phase and it was not necessary to seek professional help for the boy. She did not punish him in any way, but tried to reason with him as she continued to hope he would get over it.
At puberty, his stealing moved in a different direction. Lying awake one evening, he glanced through the window and saw, in an apartment window across the courtyard, a woman in the act of removing her dress.
Hurrying to the window, he watched, his heart pounding, as she took the dress off and hung it carefully in the closet. In another few seconds, she pushed her half slip down and stepped out of it wearing only panties and bra.
More than anything else, it was the sight of her panties that captivated him. Even when she removed her bra and he saw her big breasts swaying as she moved, his eyes returned to the black nylon panties. The sight of them was more thrilling than anything he had ever seen.
With her back turned to him, the woman bent and pushed the panties slowly down to reveal her massive buttocks. As she turned to toss the discarded garment onto a chair, she gave him a view of the entire front of her well developed body.
After a few seconds, she got into bed and, leaving the light on, began to read. As he continued to kneel at the window, Joe looked at her breasts but remembered much more strongly, the sight of her in panties.
He masturbated to ejaculation.
All through the following day, the sight of the woman in her panties stayed with him. He would look at female teachers and wonder what color panties they were wearing and how they looked in them.
Hurrying home after school, he was pleased to find that his sister was not in the apartment. Going to his mother's room, he searched through the laundry hamper until he found a discarded pair of pale blue, nylon panties. He ran to his room with them, thrilling at the feel of the silky garment in his hand.
Stripping naked, he hurriedly pulled the panties snugly around his body. Straightening up, he looked into the mirror and trembled with excitement. With both hands then, he began to fondle his penis and buttocks through the smooth fabric of the panties.
Looking over his shoulder, he admired the way they clung to his buttocks, outlining them perfectly. Without thinking he gave himself a spank. It felt good. He spanked the other cheek. It was something he had never done before, but he found the feeling of spanking his bottom through the nylon panties strangely exciting. He thought of the woman in the black panties and wondered how it would be to he over her lap wearing panties while she spanked him.
Other kids, he knew, were spanked by their parents and did not relish such punishment, still, the thought persisted that he would like to find out what it was like. A strange quirk of fate was soon to answer that question for him, but Joe could not have known that at the time.
Carried away with the fondling of his penis through the silky fabric, Joe gave a little cry of frustration as he felt himself ejaculating. He had wanted it to last longer and now it was over.
When the spasms passed, he stepped out of the panties as he realized how thoroughly he had soiled them. With tissues, he did his best to wipe away the stains he had left in them, but it was hopeless.
At last, he dressed and, stuffing the panties into his pocket, went outside. On a quiet street, he stealthily dropped the little ball of nylon into a trash can and returned home.
Returning home, Joe knew he would want to wear and play with panties again, but he knew too that he could not keep throwing his mother's panties away. She would be bound to notice it.
All through the following day, Joe ignored what was going on in class as he concentrated on the thought of panties and how he could get some. He thought of stealing them from a store, but that wouldn't be right. He wanted panties that had been worn by a woman right next to her mysterious body.
When he solved the problem, the remainder of the school day became torture. When the final bell rang, Joe began running. He did not stop until he was in the laundry room of his apartment building.
A woman was leaving with a basket of clothes as he went in. At the top of the pile were three or four pairs of nylon panties and he broke into a sweat at the sight of them.
A few of the dryers, he saw, were filled with clothes, but what caught his eye was a basket of clothes that had not yet been washed. Checking the hallway outside first, he ran to the basket, began digging through the clothes, and felt his heart stop when he spotted the pair of black nylon panties.
Picking them up, he stuffed them into his pocket and hurried out of the room. There had been time to notice that they were small and would cling tightly to him.
Again, his sister was out, and his mother would not be home from work until after six. Stripping, he pulled the panties on and vowed that he would make himself wait a long time before masturbating.
This time, he gave himself many more spanks than he had done the previous day. At length, when he could wait no longer, he rubbed the front of the warm panties until he felt himself ready to ejaculate. This time he watched it happening in the mirror. The wet spots of his semen widened and looked shiny. The fluid spread and squirted through the nylon to splash on him above the little garment.
Joe left the panties on until their wetness became too cold and uncomfortable. Taking them off then, he went into the bathroom and washed them out. Back in his room, he put them on the window sill to dry. Later, he hid them in his closet inside a baseball glove where he was sure they would be safe.
Although he washed out and saved the panties after each use, Joe set out to build a collection of the exciting garments. He visited different apartment buildings to find more of them.
One day, on a whim, he also stole a garter belt and a pair of nylons. That day, he wore them as well as the panties while he masturbated by rubbing the front of the panties for a long time.
His next progression was to wear the panties during the day at school. It thrilled him to know that he wore panties just as his teachers did and wished he could show them. Not long after that, he added nylons and garter belt to his list of daily clothes. His regular socks covered the nylons quite well so that there was no risk of exposure.
For a long time, Joe had forgotten about stealing money, but one afternoon, when he returned to his classroom to pick up a book he had forgotten, he saw his teacher's purse on her desk in the deserted room. The temptation was too strong to resist.
In a moment, he had the purse open and was digging into it. He was still doing it when the teacher, Miss Martin, walked into the room and froze inside the door as she saw what he was doing.
Joe knew he was in trouble. Stealing from a teacher's purse would be bad enough in any case, but with Miss Martin, he had made the worst possible choice.
Strapping as punishment was approved in that particular State, and Miss Martin took more frequent advantage of it than any other teacher in the school. She had a reputation for strapping harder than most of the male teachers in the school.
"So, Joseph," she said in a firm, frightening tone, "it seems that you will be continuing your education in a reform school."
The words hit him hard. The thought of a strapping was bad enough, but the threat of reform school was more than he could bear. There would be no panties to steal there, no fun of any kind. He began to plead with her not to tell on him.
Despite his pleas, the woman remained adamant. Before long, the boy was crying, but this only seemed to please Miss Martin more. With words and expressions, she made it clear to the sobbing boy that he could expect no mercy from her.
When she was confident that the boy was properly terrified, Miss Martin announced that she would consider not reporting on him if he would agree to accompany her to her home and accept punishment for his crime there.
Although he did not know it, Miss Martin had taken boys home in the past for punishment and more. At the age of forty-two, she was a practicing lesbian whose only interest in males was in boys, not men. In the past, it had cost her a couple of teaching positions, but she had escaped criminal charges, and the offenses did not show on her records since no school wanted to face the embarassment involved should her activities come to light.
Joe accepted the offer gladly, even though he sensed that he would be punished more severely at her home than would be the case if she strapped him in the school. Still, there was no alternative. He left the school with her.
Her house was a considerable distance from the school, yet the drive did not take long enough to suit the frightened boy and, it seemed no time at all before she parked the car in her driveway and, unlocking the door, ushered him into the house.
Snapping the door locked behind them, the woman walked up the short flight of stairs toward the living room and told him to follow. As she walked, he saw the motion of her strong hips and buttocks and, despite his personal fear, could not resist a feeling of sexual arousal as he imagined her walking in just panties, her big buttock straining the garment to the point of bursting.
In the living room, the woman took her time about drawing the drapes closed, but enough light came through them and from other rooms that it was still more than light enough for him to see clearly the determined expression on her face.
"Stand right there, Joseph," she indicated the desired spot, "and keep your hands behind your back."
When he did so, the woman turned her back and opened a drawer in a buffet. When she turned, he saw that she held a strap in her hands. It was not a regulation school strap, he saw, but rather, a cut down razor strap with a neat handle to provide an efficient grip.
One of his friends was often beaten by his father with a razor strap, he knew, and the boy dreaded the sting of it. Still, it looked so much less vicious than the thicker, black strap the woman used in school.
"When were you last spanked on your bare bottom?" she asked suddenly. "Quickly now, answer me," she went on when he did not reply at once.
"I've never been spanked," he mumbled.
"Is that so? Then we shall change all that, Joseph. You are going to be stripped naked and spanked over my lap today as punishment for daring to steal from my purse."
Joe had dreamed of being spanked over the lap of a woman, but now that he faced the prospect of it, he was terrified. Miss Martin was strong and knew how to hurt, then too, there was that short razor strap in her hand. It promised to be more than just a spanking.
And then the worst thought of all struck him. If she did make him take his pants off, she would see that he was wearing panties, garter belt and nylons. In that moment, Joe thought he would die.
"Remove your shirt and singlet," she snapped as she shattered his mood of quiet dread.
His fingers trembling, Joe began to unbutton his shirt. As he did, he pleaded with her not to make him take his pants off. As he expected, his pleas fell on very deaf ears as she reminded him again that he would do as he was told or be sent to reform school.
At last, his shirt and singlet removed, Joe cowered before the woman as he made a final plea that she allow him to keep his pants on. Without even bothering to reply, the woman sat on a comfortable, armless chair and ordered him to come to her at once. His legs just managed to carry him to her chair.
"Now then, Joseph," she said as she put her strap down beside the chair and reached for the buckle of his belt, "we shall see what you have inside your pants that you are so afraid to show. I doubt that it will be anything of so sensational a nature at your age."
Joe blushed furiously, but there was nothing he could do to stop her. His heart fell as the front of the pants were unhooked and he heard the zipper slide down. It sounded so noisy in the quiet room.
The next sound he heard was her gasp of astonishment and his own little cry of shame as she pulled his pants open to reveal the panties and garter belt. After a moment, she allowed his pants to fall around his ankles.
"Well, well, Joseph, what pretty underwear you wear, for a boy."
Still blushing, Joe hung his head and heard himself sob. Alone in his room, he had been so proud of his silky lingerie. Now, in the presence of the woman, he thought he would die of shame.
"Where did you get them, Joe?" she asked. "I presume it is safe to say you stole them."
"Yes, Miss Martin."
"Do you always dress this way?"
"Most of the time."
"How fascinating. I shall have to punish you for stealing these clothes as well, of course. Remove your shoes, pants and socks, Joseph. Leave your pretty undies on."
His secret was out, there was no longer any reason for him to plead, so he removed the clothing she had indicated and stood trembling before her feeling very silly and ashamed indeed in the feminine apparel that had once been so exciting to him.
"You like panties and such things, do you Joseph?" she asked in a tone that became surprisingly warm.
"I ... I guess."
Lana Martin asked him many intimate questions then and he heard himself telling her all, beginning with the woman he had seen in and out of her panties, how he stole first his mother's panties, then the other things, and how he masturbated while wearing panties.
By the time their dialogue was completed, Miss Martin's voice had changed completely. It was still strong and firm, but there was a warm, husky quality to it that he had never heard from her before. In fact, he had never heard any woman sound the way she did just then.
"How very interesting you are, Joseph. You are a much more fascinating boy than I would have thought. I rather think I am going to find punishing you far more exciting than I had expected."
Joe remained silent as he tried to understand what was happening to him. There was still some fear in him, but it was nothing like he had felt earlier. But there was another sensation as well. It was almost like when he bent in front of the mirror and spanked himself through his nylon panties.
He tried to tell himself it was impossible that he could be excited over the prospect of being beaten by this severe woman, yet the feeling was there and he could not deny it.
"I very much enjoy spanking, Joseph," the woman said as she got up from the chair. "I especially enjoy it when I am dressed comfortably. I am going to make myself comfortable now so that I shall fully enjoy spanking your bare behind and making you cry."
With that, she reached behind her and the boy was stunned at seeing her unfasten her dress and pull it down to her waist. She paused then, to slide a zipper down from the waist, and as she did, Joe feasted his eyes on the sight of her beautifully, fully packed black lace bra.
Between the cups of the bra, her big breasts gleamed white and exciting. He felt life flood into his penis and knew without looking that it was becoming erect.
"So you enjoy looking at me, do you Joseph?" she said with a smile as she pushed the dress down over her hips and took the black rayon slip down with it. "That pleases me and will, I am confident, inspire me to give you a better spanking."
She stepped out of her clothes then and Joe achieved full erection as he stared at the sight of the powerfully built woman in black bra, black Lycra girdle, and long, sheer, dark nylons which caressed her smooth thighs excitingly, the tops expanding fully. Her outfit was completed by the black shoes she wore.
To Joe, it was difficult to believe this was the same teacher he had seen so often in class. He knew too that he would never be able to look at her in school without remembering her this way and getting an erection.
For a moment, she stood with her feet apart as she adjusted her bra, girdle and nylons to her satisfaction. So aroused was the boy that he wanted desperately to take his penis in his hand, but knew that if he did, he would ejaculate all over the rug. That, he sensed, would be a terrible error with undoubtedly painful results.
"Now then, Joseph," she said as she returned to sit on the chair, "your eyes and your penis seem quite satisfied. Come over to my lap and I shall satisfy your ass as well and make it glow a very bright red."
Joe was still trembling as he walked naked, except for his lingerie, to the seated woman, but this time, there was no fear at all. He felt nothing but a wild sexual arousal.
Clumsily, he draped himself over her lap and felt warm thighs under his bare skin. It had the effect of electric, erotic currents running through his body. Feeling the woman tremble a little as well as she adjusted him just the way she wanted him, Joe sensed that she too had become highly aroused.
In his innocent ignorance, he hoped it would mean a less severe spanking for him. Not understanding the nature of the woman, he could not know that her condition meant more rather than less spanking.
For a little while, the woman fondled his buttocks in an exciting way, then, telling him that his spanking was about to get underway, she began to pull his little panties down to bare his bottom for it.
She left the panties stretched tightly across his upper thighs, then, wrapping her left arm around his waist and holding him tightly, she raised her right hand, took a deep breath, and delivered the first spank. It was a stinging slap and he felt fire break out in his right buttock. A moment later, there was another spank and a matching fire on the left side.
But it was only the beginning. Driven wild with a lust that kept growing as she spanked the dancing, writhing rear, Lana Martin knew the spanking would go on until her hand was sore. After that, there was the strap, the smooth, wide and wonderful strap that would make such a delicious sound as it slapped his buttocks and would elicit equally exciting sound from his throat as he cried and begged her to stop.
"Take that, Joseph ... slap ... and that ... and that ... how does that feel? ... Your ass is ... very red now ... but it will ... be more so before ... I finish ... slap ... slap ... slap..."
She was very accurate in her evaluation of the color of the boy's buttocks. They were indeed red and his cries told that they were hot and stinging as well, but still the woman spanked on, talking and scolding as she did, promising that, before she finished, he would think his behind was on fire.
Joe howled in protest, sobbed his pleas for mercy, and kicked his feet madly, but nothing he could do was going to lessen the severity of the spanking or shorten its duration by even one slap.
Lana was delightfully lost in her orgy of spanking and would not allow him to influence the duration of it at all.
When she did stop, it was because her body demanded an exotic satisfaction of the demand that had built all through the spanking of the sensitive young buttocks which still writhed over her thighs as she rubbed and squeezed them.
"Get down on the floor, Joseph," she hissed urgently. "Lie flat on your back on the rug."
Fearful that any hesitation in obeying her would earn him more punishment, the boy hastily did as he was told. A moment later, he looked up through tear dimmed eyes to see the woman tearing her girdle down and dragging her nylons down with it.
Naked except for her bra, she stood above him, her feet wide apart, her hand rubbing in her crotch. Above his face, Joe saw, for the first time, the crotch of a woman. As he stared at her vulva through the jungle of foliage, he felt his penis throbbing and threatening to burst under the pressure of his need for release.
Painful as the spanking had been, Joe realized with something of a shock that now there was a delicious tingle building in his blazing behind and that, surprisingly, it actually felt thrilling and wonderful.
And then the woman was moving, but not moving away from him. He watched her knees bend, saw her massive behind arch, and then realized that she was lowering herself toward him with her crotch coming down just above his face. It gave him an even closer look at what he had never seen before.
In language surprisingly crude for a teacher, Miss Martin instructed him to perform cunnilingus on her. Just before her vulva pressed down onto his mouth as she squatted astride him, he felt the heat of it and smelled the musky woman odor.
Shrieking and cursing, she told him how to use his tongue as she rode him with abandon and rubbed the warmth of her crotch all over his face until his tongue found her clitoris and began to do to it what she wanted.
From that point, it was a very short time before Lana felt all her lust building for the explosion that she knew was going to be magnificent. Holding it back as long as possible, she groaned, pressed her crotch down hard on his face, and cried through a climax that was nothing short of sensational and seemed to go on forever.
When she finally moved off Joe's face and sat beside him on the floor, that face was a very wet one indeed and only a little of that moisture was accountable to sweat.
"Because you took your punishment so well, Joseph," she told him between gulps of breath, "and because you made me feel so good after, I am not going to beat you with the strap this time."
'Thank you, Miss Martin," he said with feeling. "Thank you for everything."
"Did you really enjoy it, dear?" she asked as she drew him into an embrace with his face between her breasts.
"Oh yes, Miss Martin. It was the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me in my whole life."
"Even the spanking?"
"Even the spanking, Miss Martin. My ass still feels all nice and tingly."
Lana squeezed him so tightly that he couldn't talk for a little while. Then she released him and he went on.
"Miss Martin, please may I come to your house again? It doesn't matter how hard you spank me, only please let me come here often and do these things again."
"Oh, you sweet boy," she enthused as she hugged him close to her breasts again, "I shall want you to come and visit me very often. I won't be mad at you then, although I shall pretend to be while I spank you. There will be so many wonderful things for us to do together."
Miss Martin stopped talking then as she looked at his surging penis and knew that he must be in terrible trouble.
Picking up her panties, she held them in her left hand while she grasped the stiff little penis in her right and began to masturbate him while making cooing sounds and telling him how nice it was going to feel to ejaculate into her panties.
She was still promising it a few seconds later when, as she heard his gasp, she pressed the panties tightly around the head of his penis and felt him blowing off the terrible pressure into the nest of warm nylon.
Lana more than kept her promise to the boy. Joe is now a young man of twenty, and he still visits her regularly. He is attending college in the same,city, and she assists him with his studies while teaching him more than he is learning in college.
The moment he enters the house, he hurries to what is his own room and strips naked.
Quickly then, he dons what is his favorite costume. It begins with bra and panties, and is completed with a blouse and black rayon miniskirt.
Because the bra is cunningly padded, he wears his blouse in a way that would delight many a young woman if she were so well endowed. A blonde wig covers his own hair, and cosmetics, which he has learned to use well, complete the picture.
Ready then, he reports to Miss Martin who almost invariably greets him by taking him over her lap with his skirt up and panties down for a spanking.
She has never permitted him sexual intercourse with her, but Joe does not mind that at all. Instead, either she will masturbate him into a pair of her panties as she did that first time, or he will stand before her and handle that chore himself.
My knowledge of this case is complete because Lana is a friend of mine. I have often been a guest in her home and have watched Joe perform for her. I have seen him being spanked, and noticed that he was proud to have another woman watching his punishment and humiliation.
Joe assures me that he is happier than he has ever been or could possibly under any other circumstances, and I have to believe him.
Still, one cannot ignore the fact that he has cut himself off from what is considered by society to be a normal life. He has completely rejected masculinity and gives little if any indication that he could, under any circumstances, recover that quality with which he so eagerly parted.
While Lana is alive and able to take care of him, Joe can go on enjoying his strange life, but what will happen if he suddenly finds himself alone?
I disagree with what Lana has done to this young man, but it is not my right to condemn. We have been friends for many years and shall, I imagine, go on being friends.
We shall probably fare well in life, but what, I wonder, will ever happen to the poor lad who was seduced into a weird way of life long before he was mature enough to make his own choices.
He is a part of the sadness of the situation where a boy is seduced by a mature woman too early in life to be able to cope with it.
CHAPTER III
INCEST The family shame
In a society that has progressed far from Victorian standards of morality, many sexual practices that were formerly condemned as abnormal, have come to be accepted.
Cunnilingus, fellatio and anal intercourse are no longer considered abnormal which is as it should be. Homosexuality is indulged in freely with only small puritanical pockets of society expressing revulsion or disapproval.
And yet, there remain two types of sexual activity which are still not acceptable and will, we trust, remain in that category into the foreseeable future. I refer to pedophilia and incest.
Pedophilia, especially when it is incestuous, must be considered wrong since the child, male or female, does not have the intellectual or physical strength to resist.
Given the case of the young girl who is subjected to the sexual advances of her father, she has no choice but to submit. He is, after all, the authority figure. She must submit her helpless young body to him.
Under the family structure, all power is his, none rests with the child. He has the power to demand and to punish, and the daughter is aware of this.
Society, of course, through the law, attempts to provide a measure of protection to such children through laws covering the crime of incest. Heavy penalties are meted out to the parent who commits the crime of incest when such cases reach the court, but such cases are rare and represent only a tiny percentage of such crimes.
This, of course, is not strange. When a mother or other relative discovers that a man has been having sexual relations with his daughter, the next sensation, after shock, is one of shame.
Prosecution of the guilty person spreads an aura of shame over the entire family, and so, while steps may be taken to provide protection for the victim, the culprit escapes punishment for his deed.
What kind of people commit incest? What kind of people populate the earth? One must answer the first question with the second. Just as incest happens in the remote mountain villages of the south, so does it happen in the mansions of our biggest cities.
We cannot classify the incestuous parent as to type any more than we can say why he or she does it. In dealing with case histories, we can cite individual characteristics and, in some cases, specific motivation, but in dealing with human sexual behavior, there is no common yardstick that can be applied to all.
Let us then look at a few case histories which will, I think, illustrate this and other points on the subject of incest.
CASE HISTORY
Cindy
At the time of this incident, Cindy was age fourteen, and her brother Brad was twelve.
Their parents, in their mid thirties, had been married for fifteen years. Stan, the father, was an executive of a medium sized firm and earned a good living.
Both husband and wife progressed from being social drinkers in the early years, to heavy drinkers. Stan was able to control his drinking to the point where he was able to go to work each day and do his job, but his wife passed that point.
She would be drunk when he arrived home from the office, would get drunker during the evening, and collapse into an alcoholic sleep early in the evening. The next day she would repeat the pattern.
For a while, Stan tried to control her drinking, but he did not persist. His friends expressed pity and admiration for the man who tolerated his wife's problem and stood by her. Subconsciously, then consciously, Stan wallowed in the role of gentle martyr.
In time, their sex life deteriorated to the point of being non existant. As a result, Stan began to masturbate when desire grew too strong.
One night, while preparing for bed, he looked at his wife who lay on her stomach in a deep sleep. She still wore the nightie that she had worn all day, but it had ridden up so that the lower portions of her buttocks were visible. It was enough to trigger strong desire in the man.
Stripping naked, he fondled his erect penis for a minute, then knelt on the bed and pulled her nightie up higher over her back. She did not stir.
Pushing her legs together, Stan knelt astride them and stared at her posterior as he began to masturbate slowly. Gradually, he worked down over her so that his penis was close to the cleavage of her plump buttocks.
Making a final adjustment, he lay so that his penis pressed between the cheeks as he continued to masturbate. At one point, he was ready to ejaculate, so he removed his hand and rested for a little while.
Under control again, he resumed the previous position and began to masturbate with his penis pressing against her anus but not penetrating it.
This time, he did not stop when ejaculation threatened, but allowed his semen to squirt between her buttocks. Even after ejaculation, he felt excitement at having found a way of achieving sexual gratification with his drunken wife.
Over the next few weeks, he did the same thing often. From time to time, his wife would waken and tell him to stop, but he ignored her and persisted in masturbating to ejaculation between her buttocks.
In time though, the novelty of his means of masturbation passed and it ceased to provide the measure of satisfaction he wanted, and he began to do it less frequently.
Still, there was that strong urge for a sexual outlet that would provide the gratification he needed. There were attractive young women at his office whom, he guessed, he could lure into a motel bed or some such appropriate place, but he did not want to run the risk.
Just one hint that he was playing around with other women, he sensed, and his hero role would be destroyed. Having come to enjoy it two much, he could not risk damaging it. Rather than risk that, he would continue to masturbate, with or without using his wife's buttocks.
But making the decision was one thing, living with it was another. Desire continued to build, and masturbation offered no more than temporary relief.
He was very much aware of that state one evening as he went into the television room, hoping to find a program that would occupy him for a little while.
There, he found Cindy alone and while the television was turned on, she was lying reading a magazine with her back turned to the set. What really caught his attention though, was the fact that she was lying with her knees up and her skirt falling back over her.
Stan felt a quick flash of desire as he stared at the beauty of her thighs and a portion of her panty clad bottom.
For a girl of not quite fifteen, her thighs showed a surprising maturity as did the width of her crotch where a narrow band of nylon pressed against her.
Without speaking, Stan turned and hurried out of the room quietly.
That night, Stan experienced terror. Try as he may, he was not able to erase the picture of his daughter's firm thighs and bottom from his mind. That he should feel as he did about any girl of fourteen was bad enough, but Cindy was his own daughter and that made it intolerable.
After that, he constantly watched the girl. No matter how she dressed, the sight of her stimulated desire in him. If she wore tight jeans or shorts, he would admire the lush roundness of her buttocks and smooth thighs.
Wearing a fashionably short skirt, especially with nylons, she aroused him every time she moved, bent or even walked. Safe in the security of her home, she sat without paying attention to how much thigh she was displaying. He never failed to notice.
Although Stan tried to fight it, he was constantly experiencing erections at the sight of his daughter who seemed completely oblivious of his state and, in her innocence, contributed to it.
One evening, when Stan was watching television alone and enjoying a drink, Cindy came into the room and threw herself onto the couch beside him. She began teasing him about watching such dumb programs.
Going along with the game, Stan teased back and, over the next few minutes, it became fun for both of them.
"Any more of that, young lady," he frowned after one barb, "and I'll put you over my lap and spank your bottom for you."
Unable to resist, Cindy stuck her tongue out at him. The mere threat of spanking her pretty behind had already aroused him. When she gave him that opening, he was unable to resist taking it.
With a quick move, he pulled her over his lap, flipped the back of her skirt up over her back, and looked down at the luscious, firm buttocks, barely contained in the filmy, white nylon panties. He spanked fairly sharply and felt a firm cheek jiggle under his hand.
"Ouch. That hurts," she squealed in surprise that he had actually made good his threat.
"That's good," he replied as he spanked the other cheek. "I'll teach you to stick your tongue out at your father. Take that ... and that."
In all, the man gave her a dozen fairly sharp spanks and was able to see the pink flush through the sheer white nylon. When he stopped and sat her up again, it was not because Stan wanted to. Rather, it was because he knew that if he did not stop then, he would not stop until he had torn her panties off and raped her.
Excusing himself then, he hurried out of the room, went to the bathroom and masturbated.
Alone in the television room, Cindy experienced a thrill that was both strong and new. There had been something very exciting about being spanked on her little panties by her father. Standing, she lowered her panties and twisted to admire the pinkness of her nether cheeks.
In addition to the color, there was also a delicious tingle that went on and on. Rubbing her bottom with both hands, she intensified the feeling. When she heard her younger brother approaching, she hastily pulled her panties up and dropped her dress into place.
The following morning was a Friday. At breakfast, Brad asked if he could spend the weekend at his friend's house as he often did. At once, Stan gave permission. A moment later, he knew he would be pleased to have his son away over the weekend so that, with his wife in her usual drunken stuper, he would be alone with Cindy.
Although that day, he suffered the torments of hell as he thought of the danger ahead and wondered where he was going to find the strength to resist the temptation his own daughter presented to him.
Seeing how little work he was achieving, Stan left the office early and stopped at a bar for a couple of drinks to settle himself down. He had three, finished his last one a little faster than usual, then left for home.
The children were home from school and Brad was packed and ready to go. His friend's mother was there, waiting to drive the boys to her home, just outside the city.
In a few minutes, the three left. His wife was in bed a little earlier than usual, and Stan didn't mind that. He checked and found her sleeping soundly in a bed that he was sure had not been made or changed in a week.
While Cindy prepared a meal for the two of them, Stan, watching the smooth, efficient way she moved around the kitchen, was moved to comment on it.
"You've been forced to become a woman before your time, Cindy. Without you I wouldn't be able to get along at all around here."
"Thanks daddy," she said lightly, "but I don't mind it. In fact, I like taking care of you."
"Even though I'm an old grouch who spanks your little panties."
"Oh pooh. You don't spank that hard."
Cindy paused then and a troubled frown appeared on her face.
"What's the matter, dear?" he asked.
"It's not easy to explain, daddy. I ... I don't want to shock you."
"Come off it. You're not going to shock me. I've been around a bit longer than you, you know."
"Well, it's about that fun spanking you gave me last night. I've heard kids talk about being spanked and they make it sound like torture."
"And you didn't find it that way at all?"
'To tell the truth, it was kind of exciting to be over your lap like that getting spanked. After, there was such a nice tingle there."
Cindy was blushing as if ashamed at having spoken to her father so freely about such an intimate thing.
"It isn't strange at all, dear," he tried to control his voice as he felt desire flare strongly and his penis leap to full erection. "Lots of people, adults, spank each other for fun."
"Is that true?" she asked with an expression of relief. "I thought there was something wrong with me."
He went on to tell her that he knew some married couples who enjoyed spanking, and about various clubs devoted to just that sort of activity. Cindy, he saw, was fascinated.
After they had eaten, Stan helped her clean up in the kitchen, poured himself a drink and suggested they go watch television. When Cindy suggested a game of ping pong first, he agreed eagerly. His daughter was a fairly good player and they were quite evenly matched and enjoyed playing.
In the television room which occupied half the basement of the sprawling house, there was a ping pong table as well as the television. Selecting paddles, they commenced the game. Cindy got a fast start, but he fought back and won a close game.
After a short rest during which Stan sipped his drink, they resumed playing. Cindy won the next game 21-18, then built a commanding 17-ll lead in the third game.
"If you lose this one," Stan panted as he began to run out of breath, "you deserve to be spanked."
"Do you really think so?" his daughter replied as she served into the net.
On the next volley, she missed an easy shot and turned, skirt swirling around her thighs to chase the ball. As she bent to pick it up after a short chase, Stan trembled at the sight of her thighs above the tops of her nylons. He had to pause to wipe the palm of the hand that held the paddle.
Continuing to play so badly that he couldn't believe it, Cindy lost the game 21-18.
"If you meant what you said about a spanking," she quipped with a grin, "then I guess I'm in trouble. I really fell apart."
Throwing her hands high in the air, she flopped down on the couch with another disturbing display of nylon and smooth thighs which did nothing to lessen the desire the man felt.
"You sure did fall apart, young lady. Maybe I should spank you after all."
Carrying the drink, he sat beside her on the couch and stole another glimpse of her nylon sheathed legs and thighs. He felt his aroused penis surge in the confinement of his pants.
As she had done once before, the pretty girl stuck her tongue out at him. Hastily putting his glass down, he grabbed her arm as she pretended to skip away, and pulled her sprawling across his lap.
Cindy fell roughly against his pants and he wondered if she understood what it was all about. A moment later, he was furling her skirt up over her back. This time, he trembled at the sight of clinging, pink nylon panties which caressed the delicious contours of her behind.
Besides the panties, she wore a white garter belt that framed her plump young bottom nicely.
"So," growled in obviously pretended anger, "you will persist in sticking your tongue out at your father, will you? Then I guess I'll really have to teach you a lesson."
Cindy gave a little gasp of protest as she felt his hands reach for the waistband of her panties, then she felt the little garment being lowered. In a moment, the feel of cool air told her that her bottom lay bare over his lap and that she would be spanked that way.
His left arm tightened around her waist, and he applied a fairly light spank to one cheek. The second, on the other cheek, was equally light.
After that, as the luscious mounds took on a pink tint, he stepped up the pace of the spanking, thrilling to the clear sounds of his hand slapping the firm cheeks and the feel of warm silk each time his palm and fingers slapped and held for a moment.
"Ooh, daddy," she began to sob as the color deepened over the surface of both writhing cheeks, "that hurts ... ow ... ooh ... oh ... oh ... my ass ... oh daddy."
Stan knew he was hurting her and wanted to stop, but he couldn't. The sight of the twin pink mounds was driving him out of his mind with lust.
At last, when the girl began to cry loudly and beat the couch with her hands while her feet kicked and her panties slipped farther down her legs, the man stopped spanking and began to massage the hot cheeks that had been obviously well spanked.
"I'm sorry, Cindy dear," he said hoarsely. "I didn't mean to spank you so hard. I'm sorry baby."
As he continued to talk, trying to assure her that he had not meant to hurt her, his hands rubbed the hot, silken skin. Her crying subsided and there was a trace of a sigh in each little sob.
Turning her and bending at the same time, he moved the girl a little and placed his lips on one hot cheek in a moist kiss. He had gone too far to stop and turn back then.
With a little groan, he moved the girl right off his lap and threw himself to his knees on the floor by the couch. While he held her hips with both hands, he covered both warm cheeks with kisses and allowed his tongue to trail wetly over the lovely contours of her posterior.
Before long, her bottom began to writhe as her passion grew. He held her more closely then and his lips moved down over the bottom slopes toward the warm, white thighs which gave no indication of resisting his advances.
Gradually, as he kissed her thighs, he rolled her over until she lay on her back. Using both his hands and his perspiring face, he gently raised and parted her legs to bare her virginal, warm vulva.
Pausing for just a moment to stare at the sweetness of it, he pressed his face into her crotch with a groan and felt the response of her warm, sensitive labia under his greedy mouth.
Cindy cried out weakly, then a little more strongly as he began to use his tongue in a lapping motion. It was only a little while then before he felt and heard the girl reach orgasm. He held her tightly through it.
For a little while, there was only the sound of their deep breathing in the room, then, in a strained, small voice, Cindy asked him to explain it all to her.
Although desire was tearing at his body, Stan took time to explain many things to his daughter. While he did, he also told her of the beauty and excitement of her body and how, having spanked her, he wasn't able to stop himself from doing more than just spanking.
In exchange, Cindy told him how wonderful everything he did had made her feel.
"Even the spanking was nice, daddy. I know it hurt and I cried, but it was still wonderful and gave me the strangest feeling, like I didn't want you to stop even while I was asking you to."
Stan assured the girl that her feeling was not unusual and that people who enjoyed being spanked insisted that the spanker make them cry and plead for a long time before stopping.
'Tell me, daddy," she asked urgently, "did you ever spank a woman on the bare ass?"
Stan assured her he had, and drawing on his memory of what he had read on the subject, he told of a beautiful young woman in her mid-twenties who had confessed to him her love of being spanked.
"We spent the whole weekend at the cottage," he went on. "First, I scolded her and made her lift her skirt and slip. I took her panties down and put her over my lap and really warmed her ass with a good slapping.
She cried and kicked a lot, but I didn't stop until my arm was tired and I had to."
He went on to describe how she had asked for more and more spankings and how he had obliged after having her strip naked. He told of using his doubled belt as well as his hand.
"What about the other things, daddy? You know, the thing men and women do together and the kind of kisses you gave me. Did you do those things with her. Please tell me all about it."
Projecting his fictional account of the event, Stan told her of them both being naked while he fondled and kissed her breasts, then moved down to perform cunnilingus until she climaxed. He then told of delightful acts of sexual intercourse and fellatio during the rest of their stay at the cottage.
"Oh daddy," she almost sobbed, "it's so exciting and makes me feel funny all over."
"It's exciting for me too dear," he assured her. "I'll show you what I mean."
Hastily, he slid the zipper down the front of his pants and, reaching inside, took his penis out and showed it to the girl who gasped when she saw the size and hardness of it."
"Go ahead dear, feel it," he urged gently.
Nervously at first, then more boldly, Cindy reached for the throbbing arm of muscle and closed a hand around it.
"Oh daddy, it's so big and so hard. Can it really fit inside a woman?"
"Very easily, dear," he assured her as he fondled her thighs, moving them apart again so that he could stroke her vulva with one hand. "This little beauty of yours," he patted her vulva, "can expand much more than you think. After all, that's what it was designed for. You never have done it, have you."
"Oh no."
"Don't you wonder what it would be like to feel the strong (penis) of a man inside your warm little slit?"
"I didn't wonder much before, daddy, but now I ... I ... oh daddy, I feel so funny. I don't know what to say."
"Let's take our clothes off, dear. I'll strip naked and you leave your garter belt and nylons on."
Without waiting for a reply, he stood and began stripping quickly. After a brief pause, Cindy also began to take her clothes off as well. He was naked first, but he did not have long to wait before she removed her bra and stood nude except for garter belt and nylons.
Moving down onto the couch, Stan took her trembling form into his arms and they kissed passionately, their bodies rubbing excitingly against each other.
While he whispered exciting words of beauty, the man moved his kisses down to her pretty little breasts. They were stil rather small, but their lush roundness showed promise of beautiful development. As it was, they felt great in his mouth and the sensitive young nipples grew nicely in the warmth of his mouth while his tongue licked them in such a way that Cindy was writhing again.
And then, he was lying atop her and she could feel the strong penis probing her crotch as he sought the passage between her labia.
Every instinct in the girl told her what was about to happen was wrong, terribly wrong, but she could not bring herself to say so. She wanted what he wanted to do to her.
The head of his urgent penis found the tiny opening and began to press anxiously. Slowly, he felt it moving into the warmth of the girl.
"It always hurts a little the first time, dear," he consoled. "After that, your body is open and it never hurts again. All you feel after the first time is pleasure when a man has his (penis) in you are (sexual intercourse) with him. It's the most wonderful feeling in all the world. Trust me, my dear. It will only hurt a little, like a spanking."
But then he had to stop talking as his desire demanded satisfaction. He began to lunge hard as he reached the barrier of her hymen.
And then he broke through and the girl began to cry out in pain. He pressed a hand over her mouth to muffle the cry as he told her the hard part was over and the rest would be fun for her.
That was not strictly true, but it was more than just fun for him as the tightness of her young vagina clutched the full length of his penis and squeezed it deliciously.
She still made little crying sounds deep in her throat, but Stan persisted as he fought to hold back the charge that threatened to explode within him.
Although Cindy was still in pain, the piston action of the seemingly immense penis inside her vagina showed her it really could provide pleasure if only there were not that terrible hurting.
And then his arms wrapped tightly around her and he crushed down, pressing the breath out of her as he fired all the pent up force deeply into her in a long series of hot spurts.
Cindy felt each one of them and groaned at the strange, wonderful feeling it produced. It was a lovely warming glow that flooded her entire body and made her forget all about the terrible pain there had been just a little while ago.
After they had lain together a little longer, Stan reluctantly withdrew his penis. Cindy was amazed at the change in appearance of the weapon that had been so big and strong looking earlier, and now looked beaten and limp with the moisture of her vagina making it seem to glow as it dangled between his legs.
They talked much more that night and agreed that they would explore the wonderful world of sex at every opportunity.
Before they went to bed, Cindy assured her father that she would send the couch slip cover to the cleaners the next day so that there would be no trace of her initiation to womanhood. Both knew that their mother would not be-likely to see it, and that there was no real danger at all.
Father and daughter resumed their love making the next afternoon after he had poured enough liquor in his wife to keep her out of action for a while.
After that, father and daughter made love almost every day. When Brad was out of the house, there would be exciting spankings as Cindy proved to be as enthusiastic a spanker as her father.
A little more than four months after the beginning of the incestuous relationship, Cindy's mother woke from another drunken sleep and began the long, difficult walk to the bathroom.
On the way, she was startled at hearing the sound of a spanking being administered. Brad, she was vaguely aware, was away for the weekend.
Shaking off her alcoholic stupor, she followed the sounds until she reached the basement room. Throwing the door open, she screamed as she saw her naked daughter spanking her equally nude husband whose penis was fully erect.
For the first time in years, she became fully sober.
After shock and anger passed, Stan and his wife had a long discussion. Out of it came many resolutions. Among them was one that the wife would never drink again and would become a wife again. It was agreed that Cindy should go away to school for a while, and that Stan would see a psychiatrist.
All conditions of the agreement were met fully, and their life became a quite normal one. From time to time, Stan and his wife visited Cindy and were pleased that she too seemed to be adapting to her new way of life.
And then, their remade life was suddenly shattered. That was made very clear to the woman when she returned from a shopping trip and found, instead of her husband in the house, a note addressed to her.
Even before she opened it, the woman knew what she was going to read. She read it.
Mavis:
I am sorry, but our life just cannot work. I realize now that I cannot live without her, so we have arranged to meet and live in another city.
Please do not try to find us, as it could lead only to trouble for all of us. I shall provide full support for you and Brad. Again, I am sorry things did not work out for us.
Stanton.
Mavis contemplated suicide, but stopped short of that at the realization that Brad, an innocent victim of it all, would be left alone to suffer the loss of his entire family.
She could not bring herself to do that to him, so the only alternative was to build a new life for herself and her son. Because of the shame involved, she rejected the thought of calling in the police.
It has been almost a year since Stan left, and his wife is adjusting quite well under the circumstances. He sends regular, generous support payments, but neither he or Cindy have made any other contact.
At this point, the relationship between father and daughter is a story without an end. What that end will be, can only be a matter of conjecture.
CASE HISTORY Preston.
Preston was an only child of upper middle class parents. His father deserted his mother when the boy was seven years old.
From the moment of her husband's departure, the mother lavished on the son all the love she would have normally given a husband. She was overly protective as well as over loving, so that Preston was not permitted to do the things other boys of his age did.
Instead of baseball, he studied piano. His mother provided him with the right books, exposed him to the right type of music, and generally cultured within him, a full appreciation of the classical arts, rather than the popular forms.
One aspect of his education that was sadly lacking, was the matter of sex. He had few friends at school, and they, like he, were quiet, sensitive boys who knew little or nothing about sexual matters.
When puberty arrived, Jack of knowledge did not diminish normal sexual desire.
The first time he masturbated, he almost fainted as he ejaculated. Thrilled by it, he masturbated often after that.
By sixteen, Preston was a tall, good looking boy, and an excellent student. Still, his personality was such that he had very few friends and, not surprisingly, no sexual experience and little theoretical knowledge beyond what he learned by masturbating.
More than a few times, older boys or men cultivated his friendship, but invariably, they wanted him to take part in homosexual relations with them. He found such suggestions revolting, and in time, discouraged others who seemed to offer friendship.
Although he did not know it, Preston was not the only one in the house who masturbated. His mother did it often. Hurt by the loss of her husband, her confidence shattered, she would not risk another hurt at the hands of a man.
All through the childhood of her son, she satisfied her strong sexual urges by masturbation. Although it was usually digital, she did experiment with a candle, a carrot, and, eventually, an electric vibrator which the magazine ad claimed to be for gum massage, but actually, provided a delicious vibratory thrill when inserted into her vagina.
One Saturday morning, while working in the garden, the woman glanced toward the bathroom window which was open an inch or so, and was startled to see the nude form of her son. Even more startling to her was the fact that he was entirely naked and was fondling his erect penis.
Instantly, she was assailed by the wildest arousal she had known in many years, if ever before. As she watched, rooted to the spot, the boy would stroke his penis for a little while, then release it to delay ejaculation.
During the intervals between stroking, he would reach around himself and spank his buttocks with his palm. The woman recalled that in the early years of her marriage, she and her husband had played the spanking game and found it highly arousing.
At last, when Preston could hold back no longer, he ejaculated and sent his semen squirting against the wall. As he cleaned it up with tissue, the woman turned away and found walking difficult.
The handle of the trowell she held in her hand was nicely phallic and just right for what she had to do then. Hurrying into the tool shed, she pulled her shorts and panties down, kicked them off, and quickly brought herself to climax with the smooth handle in her vagina.
But it didn't end there. All through the day, the woman thought of nothing but her handsome son masturbating. She could still see his penis vividly, and it was much bigger than she would have expected. Too, she recalled the sight and sound of his spanking himself.
Because Preston spent most of the afternoon at the library, his mother had plenty of time to think, too much of it. As the hours passed, she saw an irony in the fact that both she and her son were restricted to masturbation for sexual satisfaction while others had partners to give them such gratification in a more normal manner.
At first, the direction of her thoughts horrified her, but the more she thought of it, the more fascinated and the less horrified she became.
That evening, they were strangely silent at the table. Preston tried to engage her in their usual animated chatting, but she just wasn't up to it.
After the meal, the boy stood behind his mother's chair and, his hands on her shoulders, asked what was wrong. His touch and his gentle voice triggered what she had kept under control for too long.
With a little cry of anguish, she leaped to her feet. In a moment, she was embracing her son passionately and sobbing with her mouth against the side of his neck. He tried to offer comfort, but not knowing what was wrong, couldn't.
After a minute, she asked the boy to go to her room with her so that they could talk. Anxious to do anything he could to help, he quickly went into her bedroom with her.
He loved being in her room. It was dainty, bright and filled with the lovely aroma of femininity. Sitting on the bed, she invited her son to join her so that they could have a long, serious talk.
She began by asking her son about his sexual knowledge and experience and was not surprised to find him lacking in both.
Nervously at first, then with rising confidence and arousal, she told him not only about sexual intercourse, but of other things including sex spanking, cunnilingus and fellatio.
Seeing that Preston was both nervous and aroused, she put an arm around him and moved her hand over his back as she continued her impromptu lecture on the facts without any need to discuss birds and bees.
Before long, Preston freely admitted that he desperately wanted to see and touch a woman's body. When his mother admitted that she masturbated frequently, he made the same admission and expressed surprise on hearing that women could masturbate. She explained the various methods she used and saw him tremble with excitement.
Turning a little, she caught both his wrists and carried his hands to her full breasts. He gave a little gasp of what sounded like delicious pain as he felt breasts for the first time.
"Lie me down on the bed, dear," she whispered, "then lie right on top of me and kiss my mouth. Kiss me hard, darling."
Stunned, the boy was unable to move and sat with his mouth open wide.
"It isn't fair that we should both be suffering for the want of sex while others have all the fun," she explained. "We are going to make each other very happy from now on, dear. I'll show you everything. Put me down on the bed now and kiss me the way I want to be kissed."
By then, Preston was able to act. His hands were strong but gentle as he pushed her down on her back, stared for a moment at the rise and fall of her breasts through the thin dress she wore, then came down on top of her as she wanted.
Their mouths met passionately and he pressed the full length of his body down hard on her. He did not attempt to hide the fact of his erection, and, in that position, could not even if he wanted to.
During their second kiss, the woman used her tongue as well as her lips. Taking the lead from her, Preston brought his tongue to meet hers and they lashed each other.
"While you were masturbating this morning," she whispered, "I noticed you spanking yourself. Would you like to have me bare naked and lying over your lap while you spank me?"
"Oh yes," he gasped. "And I'd like you to spank me too. I want to know what it's really like to be spanked."
Having been promised the thrill of spanking his mother's bottom, he became suddenly bolder and reached around her to fondle it through her clothes. She raised her hips from the bed to offer him freer access to it as she sighed and writhed in passion and anticipation of all that was to come.
"Who get's spanked first, dear?" she asked.
"You spank me first so I'll know how to do it. Please though, take off your clothes first. I'm just dying to see your pretty body all over."
"Of course, darling. We'll both get undressed so that we can see and play with each other. Oh darling, we are going to have such wonderful fun from now on."
Hurrying up from the bed, she unfastened her dress and began to remove it slowly as the boy watched in rapt fascination. Pulling the dress down to her waist, she held it there for a few seconds to allow him to concentrate his attention on her bra and the partially revealed contents of the cups.
Still moving slowly, allowing the excitement to build, she pushed her dress down over her hips and allowed it to fall around her feet.
She wore no slip, only the matching set of black bra, panties and garter belt she had selected for the seduction of her son, and long, sheer nylons. High heels helped her naturally shapely legs look even more so as she stood with her feet well apart and her hands on her hips while turning slowly to give the boy a view from behind as well.
When her back was turned to him, she bent slowly from the waist to show him the full curves of her plump buttocks in delightful motion. She knew that he could see the shadowy cleavage through the taut nylon.
"Now you take your clothes off, darling," she urged in a whisper. "Let me see you bare naked. I want to look at that magnificent body and think of all the things it is going to do to make me happy."
Getting up without taking his eyes off the partially revealed body of the woman, Preston began to undress. He was a little shy at first, but desire soon overcame that.
When only his underpants remained, his mother hurried to him, crouched beside him and slowly drew them down. As she released his erect penis, she paused to admire it, then jerked the shorts down and helped him step out of them.
"Oh darling," she sighed as she stood, "hold me close and kiss me."
Standing beside the bed, they embraced again and this time she felt the strong urgency of his penis rubbing her. Her hands moved all over his body until they reached firm, smooth buttocks that were almost girlish both in sight and in feel.
When she slapped one cheek, she felt him tremble and heard a low moan of passion.
"Oh mummy," he sounded like a very small boy, "take me over your lap and spank me."
"Yes dear," she said as she slapped the other cheek lightly. "Mummy is going to take her naughty little boy over her lap and spank his smooth little ass and make him cry. Come to the bed now dear and show mummy your little ass-ass."
In a moment, she sat on the edge of the bed and patted her thighs in invitation. She stole one more glance at his swaying penis before he draped himself across her thighs to receive his spanking.
While she scolded him for being naughty, and he sobbed in the manner of one who has played the game many times, he felt the first spank. It was much harder than he expected, and stung, yet it was enjoyable.
The woman went on spanking his smooth bottom until she had painted both cheeks a flaming crimson and he cried very loudly and kicked his feet like the little boy he pretended to be. He was still sobbing as she drew him back onto the bed and began kissing the buttocks she had spanked so well.
After a little while, she took off her bra and offered him her breasts. Although she was almost forty, she boasted good breasts, generous, studded with large nipples, and surprisingly firm.
For a few seconds, Preston could only hold them from below and stare, then he fell on them and began mouthing them ravenously. As the nipples responded by coming fully erect, he became even more excited.
Wanting more, the woman guided his hands to the waist of her panties. In a moment, he began tugging them down and she rolled over onto her tummy and lifted from the bed. The boy quickly stripped them down over her buttocks, then forgot about them as he began caressing and kissing the flawless white swells and probing into the smooth valley.
When she told him to, Preston pulled her panties right off, then, with a little smile, she turned over onto her back, looked into his face and opened her legs to display her vulva.
"So that's what it looks like," he gasped as he saw first the foliage of her mons veneris, then the soft labia, inviting and warm looking.
"Yes, dear, now find out what it feels like. Be gentle though."
She raised her knees higher and opened her crotch a bit wider to help him. Drawing the labia apart, Preston stared into her for a long time, then brought a hand into play and began to probe the interior.
Moving into a more comfortable position, he cupped her left buttock with his other hand and kept pulling her close to him as he went on probing her vagina.
"Oh Preston," she panted as her body writhed madly, "I can't wait. Give it to me now. Stick it in me darling and ride me."
With a little direction from his mother, Preston moved between her welcoming legs and began to probe her crotch with his penis. In a moment, he felt the head pushing in and knew he was doing it properly. With a few strong jabs, he was all the way in and her arms were wrapped tightly around him while she told him, in the crudest of terms, how good it felt.
She was so aroused that she climaxed within seconds, and he paused while she cried her way through it. After the waves stopped crashing over her, Preston resumed stroking and it was not long before he savored the thrill of ejaculating with his penis deeply buried in the moist warmth of a vagina.
After it was over and they had rested, the woman washed thoroughly while her son watched, then donned her bra and panties. She told him it would be more exciting than if she stayed naked, and would help him recover more quickly for another round of sexual intercourse.
Sitting in the living room, she told him many more details of sexual activity and he thrilled at each one. In just a little while, he felt strength returning to his penis and they were both delighted at what that promised.
Preston reminded her that he had not spanked her as yet, and very much wanted to.
Throwing her arms around him, she giggled as she told him that she had been a very naughty little girl earlier and had wet her panties.
With the same facility he had displayed earlier, Preston assumed the role of aggressor and his voice was quite manly as he scolded her and informed her that he was going to take her panties down and give her a bare bottom spanking.
Each played the role well, and a sobbing little girl was soon begging her daddy not to spank her. Needless to say, it availed her nothing as she went over his lap and felt her little panties being lowered to bare her buttocks in preparation for the spanking hand.
As Preston delivered the first spank, there was the sound of two voices registering delight and excitement. Her bottom came up to meet the next spank and the woman began to cry but with obvious enjoyment.
At one point, Preston became so convinced by the sound of her crying and pleas that he not spank her any more, that he stopped spanking and began to massage the pink cheeks. She quickly screamed for more, a lot more and a lot harder. He gave her what she wanted.
When he did finally stop spanking her, the woman's buttocks were a brighter shade of red than his had been earlier after his spanking. He ministered to the smooth mounds with his hands and his lips.
Guided by instinct and mounting desire, he drew the big cheeks apart and placed an ardent kiss on her anus which he tongued until she screamed.
"Preston darling," she panted as her body heaved on the bed, "between my legs. Kiss me. Lick me. Suck my (vagina). Oh, I'm going out of my mind. Bring me off."
The boy was less than sure of himself, but again instinct and logic were good guides and his face was soon buried in the warmth of her crotch while she cried out in encouragement that told him how well he was doing it.
For the second time that evening, she cried through a very strong orgasm. After a little while, her bra and panties both gone, she knelt up on the bed with her knees well apart, and told him to kneel behind her and give it to her in that position. He experienced a little difficulty in making entry, but once he did, he was delighted with the thrill of having sexual intercourse in that position which gave him her entire body to play with. An extra bonus was the heat of her red buttocks meeting his body at the completion of each stroke, and the little spanking sound that went with it as he slapped against her.
Over the next few weeks, life was just one continuing orgy for them. Her bed became their bed and they made good use of it.
Not even menstruation could interfere with their games. During this time, she introduced him to the joys of fellatio, and once, when he asked whether men and women engaged in anal intercourse, they experimented. She found it rather unpleasant, so they did not try it again.
As time passed, mother and son became more devoted love partners. On completion of high school, Preston enrolled in a college in the city and their romance went on.
At the age of nineteen, Preston not only had the body of a well developed man, but he was a far more adept lover than most men ever become. His mother had taught him well and she delighted in reaping the reward of her training as often as they could do it.
Illness struck his mother late in his final term at college. Exploratory surgery confirmed that cancer had become too solidly entrenched and her condition was inoperable.
Terrified not at the thought of her death, but by the fact that her son would be left alone and unable to cope with life, she confessed all to her doctor.
He wisely sought psychiatric assistance and chose me to talk to the woman and her son. She was returned to her home to await death, and there, I saw them both frequently and heard the entire story as I have presented it here.
When I insisted that she do so, she told her son of her terminal condition. It was a terrible blow to the young man, but at least it gave us time to help him adjust before death became a reality.
Over the last two months of her life, we worked together to help the youth plan his life. He graduated with good marks, but refused to even consider taking a job at that time. He was determined to spend all the time he could with his mother and rarely left her for a minute.
Early one morning, Preston phoned to tell me that his mother had died in her sleep. I went to him at once to offer what comfort I could and help with the ugly details of death.
I became aware of how much adjusting the young man still had to achieve when he asked whether he could live with me so that I could pick up the role his mother had played in his life.
Explaining why it was out of the question, I assured him that together we could put his life in order so that he could find happiness again.
With assistance from a social worker, a job was found for Preston and he continued to keep appointments with me, during which I tried to help him see that the life he had lived was not a normal one by the standards of contemporary society.
He seemed to be making slow but satisfactory progress until two months later when he arrived at my office looking happier than I had ever seen him.
The reason for his elation was that he had found a widow in her mid-forties who could afford to support him and was glad to have the full time services of a good looking young man.
It is not surprising that he did not come to my office again and I have lost contact with him. Who can guess what the outcome will be for Preston? It is not my business to guess, but I do not like the prognosis.
CASE HISTORY
Jan
Jan had the misfortune of being unattractive in an era when beauty was worshipped as a goddess. Through childhood, she was painfully aware of not being attractive as her girl friends.
Because her parents did not see or understand her hurt, they did nothing to compensate, and the hurt went deeper.
As Jan grew, she became trapped in a vicious circle. Other girls, more attractive than she, dated and enjoyed lots of fun. Jan found no dates, and as she became more introverted, reduced her chances.
Also, her school work suffered and she became a bad student who didn't care whether or not she achieved good grades. She also didn't care about diet, so that at the age of seventeen, she was both the oldest and biggest girl in her class.
Her mother had died the previous year, and Jan had slipped easily into the routine of housework. At home, she was not exposed to girls more attractive than she. There, she could listen to music, read and day dream.
Since there was only she and her father, her older brother had left home, there was not much work to be done and plenty of time to indulge in day dreams in which she was beautiful and popular with young men.
Her father raised no objection when she decided to leave school and spend full time at home. Since her mother's death, father and daughter talked more and he came to understand her hurt and to feel sympathy for her.
The next discovery her father made was that her reading, of which she did a lot, was not just romantic, but actually erotic. He wondered at the sensations this would produce in a girl who had no boy friends, and guessed that she probably sought release through masturbation. At first, the thought shocked him, then, as he masturbated more and more during his adjustment to the life of a widower, the thought of his big daughter doing the same thing began to hold a fascination for him.
Living alone together as they did, provided an extra element of intimacy between them. In so many ways, Jan was more like a wife than a daughter. She played all the roles of wife except the sexual one, and it was not long before he began to think in those terms as well.
Despite her plain face and the bigness of her body, she held a certain attraction for him. While her body was big, it was not flabby. She was well fleshed, fully rounded and firm.
This was confirmed one Sunday afternoon when father and daughter sat sunning and reading in the garden. Because of the privacy afforded by the garden which was walled by a tall hedge, Jan wore a sun suit that showed just how big and smooth and firm her body was.
Her breasts were of the nature of melons and seemed to have the same firmness. Her skin was clear. The fullness of her buttocks threatened to destroy the seams of her scanty suit. There was that same firm smoothness to her big thighs, and the man felt an almost overpowering temptation to run his hands over them.
He saw too, that she was reading another of her erotic books and guessed that she was becoming sexually aroused.
Before long, the combination of the sight of her barely clad form, and his awareness of her highly aroused state, became too much for the man to contain.
Going into the house, he poured himself another drink and warned himself of the danger of going back into the garden. But by this time, the throbbing of his erect penis became a stronger factor than the working of his mind which tried to warn him away from his daughter for both their sakes.
The drink was strong and helped him maintain and feed his arousal with erotic thoughts of the big, frustrated girl alone in the garden.
He was on the verge of going out to join her when he saw her coming into the house carrying her book.
"Where are you going, Jan?" he asked.
"I think I've had enough sun for today. I'm going up to my room to read."
"Please don't, Jan. Stay and chat with me for a little while. I guess we're both bored."
Jan didn't really want to, since she had saved a highly erotic passage of the book to read while masturbating naked on her bed. Still, she couldn't refuse her father..
Sitting together on a couch in the sunny living room, he began by commenting on boredom, moved on to the emptiness of life without a partner, and found it easy to take the one more step into the area of sexual need and gratification between man and woman.
They had never discussed such intimate subjects in the past, so that Jan was nervous in the beginning. Before long though, the seeds of his thoughts found fertile ground in the heat of her arousal and she began to take a more active part in the conversation.
To her surprise, she heard herself admitting that for a long time, she had been suffering a need that was much like that of which her father complained.
"At least, dad," she said at one point, "you have known sex and are free to find another partner if you choose. The same doesn't apply to me. All I know is what I read, and it just makes everything worse."
Her statement provided her father with the bridge he needed to move the discussion from the theoretical to the personal level and he used it skillfully.
Throwing off his cabana jacket, so that he wore only trunks and running shoes, he turned a little to face Jan. As he did, he first smiled, then gave a bitter little laugh.
"What's so funny, dad?" she asked with a frown.
"It isn't really funny at all," he replied seriously. "I was just thinking of the irony of our situation."
"Tell me what you mean," she asked.
"Well, there are so many things, but I can tell you one right now that will help explain. Outside in the garden, I was looking at your firm body with just that little bra top and panty bottom covering it.
"At the same time that I was going out of my mind with wanting to touch you and hold you, you were obviously getting the same way from your reading and wanting to feel the hands of a man on your body. That is right, isn't it?"
"You, too? Yes, dad. It's been that way for a long time now. There are times when I think I'll lose my mind. All those other girls are having so much fun with boys and all I have are my books."
Without speaking, the man reached out with both hands and cupped his daughter's breasts.
At first, he held them lightly, then began to caress and squeeze them firmly.
When the girl gave a little sigh and squirmed on the couch, he reached behind and unhooked the bra top. In an instant, he pulled the top off her and gasped aloud as he saw the full beauty of her mature breasts, pink tipped and pure white against the golden tan of her strong, smooth body.
She trembled, but did not resist when he pulled her into an embrace and kissed her mouth passionately as the firm breasts rubbed his bare chest. Her arms tightened around him and they fell to the couch together in their wild embrace.
There were more kisses, then his hands were unfastening the button and lowering the zipper down the back of the suit bottom.
"Oh, how I've wanted to do this, Jan," he whispered.
"Oh dad, I don't know. I want to. I want you to, but it's wrong, it must be wrong."
"You're a beautiful, exciting woman, Jan. Lift your ass a little."
She was still issuing words of doubt and protest as her hips came up off the couch and he stripped the little suit off her bottom and drew it down her thighs. As the man guessed, she wore no panties and he stared into the bright coppery bush of her mons veneris. As the shorts fell off her feet, she was naked.
Quickly, he stood by the couch and stripped his shorts and underpants down at the same time. He heard her cry out at the sight of his aroused penis.
"Haven't you seen one before?" he asked as he returned quickly to her.
"Oh no. Oh my God it's big."
"Take it in your hand and feel how strong it is, dear."
As if hypnotized by the sight of the strong organ, Jan closed her hand around it and gave another little cry that was pure distillation of aroused passion.
"Now I want to see yours, Jan," he whispered urgently. "Open your pretty legs nice and wide and let me look at it."
Without a thought, Jan rolled back and her legs opened wide for him and raised up over her body. It was something she had only read about in the past, now she was opening up her crotch for the eyes, hands, and perhaps more, of a man. She gave no thought then to the fact that that man was also her father. He was a man and his penis was big and strong. Nothing else counted.
"What a beauty," she heard him gasp as his face bent down over her and his hand stroked the warmth of her hot, hungry vulva.
She emitted a series of cries as his knowing fingers reached inside the labia to spread the warmth around. An even louder cry followed when she realized that he was moving his face right into her crotch.
The cry became a shrill scream when she felt his lips kissing her labia passionately and his tongue darting well into her vagina.
All her previous reading, fantasies and masturbation were so much child's play compared to the thrills which raged throughout her body as cunnilingus became reality rather than fantasy.
Pressing to the task, he cupped and fondled smooth, plump, firm buttocks while his face wedged tightly into her crotch and his tongue found and continued to arouse her untouched, except by her own finger, clitoris in an orgy of lust such as she had never even dreamed of.
"Oh dad, dad," she cried, "I'm going to ... ooohhh ... oh ... oh..."
She didn't need to complete the sentence. Knowing what was happening to her, he waited until he felt her body lurch madly once, then withdrew his tongue and pressed his mouth hotly against her vulva as she went into her orgasm. Only when the ecstasy began to recede, did he take his mouth away from her crotch, then, holding her in a close embrace, he kissed her mouth again and she felt the mingling juices bringing a strange new flavor into her mouth.
After they had lain in embrace for a little while, the man began to probe the warmth of her crotch again. This time, the hand that probed held his urgent penis, strong and hungry for the interior of her body.
When he ruptured her hymen, there was pain and she cried out, but she knew there was to be pain and was ready for it. It was the price of awakening her body to womanhood and she knew it and paid it willingly.
In view of the man's terrible arousal, he was not able to sustain the act of sexual intercourse for long before he was pouring his semen into her welcoming body as she held him tightly.
The two remained naked after that and enjoyed a most exciting evening filled with erotic conversation and plans for the future.
That night, they went to his bed early and naked. In a little while, he aroused her vagina fully with his mouth and tongue before they joined their bodies in sexual intercourse. This time, he lasted a lot longer and Jan felt the thrill of climaxing while a strong penis filled her vagina.
Over the next three years, father and daughter lived as man and wife as they eagerly explored every avenue and shady path of sexual enjoyment.
Their bower of love was struck by the lightning of fate when Jan's father was rushed from his office to hospital with a heart attack shortly after Jan's twentieth birthday.
He lived through it, but the brush with death was a shocking event. In his earlier life, he had been a religious man and now, the closeness of death, reminded him of the old values and his recent life of sin.
First, he spoke to a clergyman, but the words he heard did not give him the comfort he expected. At his request, his doctor brought in a psychiatrist who listened to his story without anger or condemnation.
In time, he recovered sufficiently to be discharged from hospital on the understanding that with proper care, he could live a reasonably normal life and enjoy many more years of it.
But the psychiatrist did not drop the case there. He held sessions with father and daughter alone and together as he showed them how a continuation of their affair could lead only to shame and mental anguish for both.
Both father and daughter realized that the doctor was right, but they knew too that it would not be easy to call a halt to the happiness they had found together in their illicit love affair.
Jan took the first step by leaving home and taking an apartment in the city. After a refresher course, she was able to get secretarial work and look after her own needs.
But there were other needs as well, needs more basic than the financial ones.
There too, her doctor helped. He pointed out to her that she had proved her capacities as a warm, loving woman, and that she offered more than many young women who were merely beautiful and had little else to offer a man.
Her confidence grew gradually, until she began being asked out on dates. She accepted all offers in the beginning.
Although she did not exactly throw herself at her dates when they wanted to end an evening with something more than a kiss at her apartment door, she did allow herself to be seduced. Each time, she surrendered her body with a nice touch of reluctance, making it obvious to the young man that she didn't make a habit of doing it with every man she dated, but that his charms were something special and that she lacked the strength to resist him.
There was, of course, nothing dishonest about that. It is, on the contrary, the intelligent way of a maid with a man. To those who would disagree, I would point out that when a woman gives too eagerly what a man wants, he tends to brand her as an easy lay and she finds herself relegated to the role of a casual roll in the hay while he eventually marries the 'nice' girl.
At any rate, it did work well for Jan. Not many months after striking out on her own, she fell in love with a young man a few years older than herself and, after six months of courtship, they married.
They had already established a comfortable sexual adjustment before they married, and it has improved since.
Jan expects her first child soon, and while she cannot know whether it will be beautiful or not, she does know she will be able to cope, thanks to her own painful experience, with any child who happens to be less than beautiful.
I now have boundless faith in her, but more important, so has she.
CHAPTER IV
HOMOSEXUALITY From Lesbos With Love
When we speak of seduction, it is normally considered that the subject refers to the seduction of a female by a male, or, less frequently, the opposite.
But of course, this is not the case at all. Homosexuality is ever increasing in our society, and new recruits are being seduced into the ranks daily.
I reject out of hand the theory that mass media and improved communications in what Marshall McLuhan refers to as the global village, merely makes us more aware of what was going on all the time. It just is not so.
Of course homosexuality is as old as time. Animals were probably practicing it before the first man crawled out of the sea and traded his fins and flippers for arms and legs.
But today, it is a greater factor in our civilization. There are many factors to justify this change in sexual behavior.
For one thing, while it may not be completely accepted in every area of society, it is far more acceptable now than it was even a generation ago. In some countries, homosexuality between consenting adults has been legalized and removed as a tool of the blackmailer and the extortionist.
I am confident that every person who reads this book knows of one or more homosexuals who live as perfectly ordinary, acceptable citizens in their community with a broad social life among their heterosexual contemporaries.
Too, there has developed, especially in North America, but not exclusively so, a frightening confusion about the role of the sexes.
A young generation is growing up with an attitude of reverence toward the long-haired, effeminate looking and acting male. I submit Carnaby Street as a perfect example although one need not go that far.
What is the attraction of homosexuality? There are many and they are varied, but it is not always a positive attraction that attracts the inexperienced or the former heterosexual into acts of physical love with members of the same sex.
More often than not, the motivation is a negative one, a rejection of the opposite sex which leaves only one alternative.
Consider the woman who has been raped or has endured a painful, joyless honeymoon in the arms of a man who did not know or care that a woman requires tenderness and gentle consideration rather than animal force, especially in her first experiences. Can she be condemned if she learns that a woman can satisfy all her sexual longings and do it with understanding and tenderness? I think not.
I must make it clear that this chapter is not an apologia for homosexuality, male or female. Rather, it is my intention to present, my means of actual case histories, an explanation of how some persons were lured into homosexuality. In doing so, it should help provide a greater understanding of the subject. This, after all, is surely my role in any work of this nature.
CASE HISTORY Beth
Despite the claims of those who state it is not possible, Beth graduated from university with a degree in arts and with her virginity still intact.
A bright, beautiful young woman with an engaging personality, she was popular with males and females alike. She dated frequently, enjoyed necking, but always stopped short of sexual intercourse.
She had decided at the outset of her college career, that she would not have sexual intercourse until she was in love with a man. Because of her strong will, she was able to stick to this resolution although a goodly number of her dates tried to talk her out of it.
Returning to her home city on graduation, she decided to live with her parents for a while until she decided on a job and a place to live.
Before long, she was dating again, including many of the men she had known as boys in high school. What she did not take into consideration, was that the boys, in becoming men, had changed, and that the boy who stopped when she told him to would not necessarily react in the same manner when the urges of manhood were stronger.
This was brought home to her with shattering clarity a couple of weeks after her return home when, after a night of drinking and dancing, her date drove her home the long way, and parked in a quiet wooded road.
Feeling that he was entitled to a bit of necking after a pleasant evening, she did not object, and even got out of the car with him to look at the moonlight on the river and enjoy a cigarette.
When he kissed her, she responded warmly. She enjoyed being kissed and held. She did warn him though, as she always did, that he was not to expect anything more than necking.
He assured her that was all he had in mind, so they went on necking. By the time Beth read the danger signs, it was too late. They were lying on the grass with his trench coat under them and his hand had fought its way up her thighs to fondle her panties.
Beth managed to close her legs tightly, but she was a beautifully developed woman and he still found much there to add to his arousal.
When she pleaded for him to stop and told him she was a virgin, he laughingly told her that he would fix that for her and make a woman out of her.
She fought, but it was hopeless. It was after three o'clock and others who might have been necking in the area had gone home. Her cries, she knew, would not be heard and would not save her from what her date had in mind for her.
It was not long before her dress and slip and been pushed well above her waist. She fought to retain her panties, but felt them being jerked and torn down her thighs until he pulled the wreckage of them off her feet and stuffed them into his pocket.
There was more fighting then, but Beth soon learned that a woman cannot keep her legs closed against the assault of a strong man. Before long, he was lying between her legs as he reached down to take his penis out.
She begged one last time for him to let her go, but the plea was futile as she knew it would be. Moments later, the man was jabbing in her crotch until, with a groan of triumph, he gave a hard lunge and plunged into her virginal vagina.
It had begun as a fight, with the man employing all his strength. The act of sexual intercourse he forced on Beth, continued in the same manner.
She screamed when her hymen gave way before the force of his penis, but he merely clamped a hand over her mouth and persisted until the full length of his weapon was buried in her pain wracked organ.
His body pounded and crushed, his breath was hot and suddenly vile as his penis pistoned in and out through what had become an entire area of sharp pain for the ravished young woman who lay defeated and helpless beneath him.
At last, the act was over as the spurting of his semen inside confirmed. After a minute, he clambered tiredly to his feet and gave her his hand to help her stand weakly.
Beth cursed him and swore she would have him charged with rape, but he seemed completely unconcerned as he told her she didn't have a chance. He would, he went on, state that they had spent an evening of drinking and necking, and had driven out to the country road at her request.
"Try and convince any jury in the world that you went into the bushes with me at three in the morning after all the drinking we did, and that you didn't come across of your own free will.
"That will be my story and it will be my word against yours, Beth baby. I suspect you'll find people looking at you strangely after that and calling you interesting names behind your back."
She may have hated him at that moment, but she knew at the same time that he was right. In the shame of a trial, no matter what the decision, her character would take a brutal beating and she would be the loser just as surely as she had lost when she tried to protect her virginity.
By the time his car reached her home, she got out silently, let herself into the quiet house and went at once to her bedroom.
After bathing carefully, she went to bed, but getting to sleep was another matter. She was practical enough to realize that the loss of her virginity was not the end of the world, but she felt a burning hatred toward the young man who had taken by force what she had not wanted to give.
By morning, the pain was gone although the anger still flared hotly. Every memory of the incident became ugly and evil. Before long, she found herself transferring her hate toward the penis as the representative of all men.
When she recalled that she had a luncheon date with an old friend to discuss a job possibility, Beth shelved her bitter thoughts and worked at getting herself into a more suitable frame of mind to talk business.
She had not achieved much in that direction when she met her friend, a woman a few years older than she, whose family had known hers for years.
Beth tried to relax as she and her friend enjoyed a drink before lunch. When that didn't work, the friend, Joan, suggested they have another.
Because Beth was contributing little to the conversation, Joan took control of it and guided it the way she wanted to. It required about another five minutes before Beth was fighting tears back as she told of her experience of the previous night.
"The dirty man bastard," Joan hissed as she heard and looked at the terror in the eyes of her younger friend.
Something about the way she said the words electrified Beth. Never had she heard such venom in Joan's voice.
"Look, dear," Joan whispered as she patted Beth's hand, "this is no time to try talking business and this is no place for it anyway. We're going to my house where we can relax with a drink and talk more freely."
Joan threw two bills on the table and they left at once. Beth felt she should have been strong enough to insist that they talk business as planned, but she knew she could not overcome the strength of her friend who was determined to take her home.
Driving to Joan's apartment, Beth listened as the woman told her how she too had been raped some years ago and how no man had ever gotten close to her since.
"But doesn't that make for a rather empty life?" Beth asked.
"You've seen me, Beth. Would you say I look unhappy or that my life is empty?"
"Lord no," Beth replied with enthusiasm. "You've always looked to me like the most contented woman in the world. I have a feeling I could learn a lot from you, Joan."
"So have I, dear," Joan replied as she took a hand off the wheel to pat Bern's knee. "So have I."
Joan's apartment was expensive, tastefully decorated and, above all, comfortable. It was all woman, yet there were none of the sickening frills Beth so detested. She wondered as she explored it, how long it would be before she too had such an apartment and the income to support it.
Joan poured two drinks and carried them to the couch where she put them on a low table easily within reach. As she sat on the couch, she motioned Beth to join her.
Beth looked at Joan, saw where her skirt had ridden up to display lovely thighs which the woman made no effort to hide. But then, everything about Joan was beautiful, she thought.
She had a lovely face framed with raven black hair that was always flawlessly done. Her breasts jutted proudly with a promise of firmness. At twenty-five, Joan was a perfect combination of youth and maturity with more poise than she had seen in any other woman of any age.
That poise, she guessed, was part of the reason Joan was able to be the sole owner of an interior decorating business at so young an age. Although she was normally quite confident, Beth found herself wondering how long it would be before she was able to achieve all that Joan had done.
Again, Joan took control of the conversation as they sipped their drinks, and guided it in the direction she wanted. Mostly, she talked about herself and the wonderful life she enjoyed. Through it all, there was no mention of men, yet, Beth saw, there could be no denying that the woman was happy.
It would not have occurred to Beth that her friend was a lesbian, but as Joan went on talking, that thought moved closer and closer to the surface until, when the time was right, Joan quite casually announced that she found all the wonderful love she needed in the arms of beautiful, warm women.
Such a statement could have come as a shock to Beth, but Joan had been this route before and knew just how to spin it out a little at a time so that there would be no shock involved.
"I'd never have guessed," Beth stammered in confusion.
"Why, dear? Because I don't have a butch haircut and wear dirty jeans? All lesbians are not bull dykes or stompers, Beth. Both of us are the attractive, personable women you meet on the street every day. You just don't realize that we have graduated into a better world than men can provide."
There were questions to be asked then, and Beth asked them, timidly at first, then with growing interest. Joan, for her part, answered every one with the impression of being honest at all times.
"What can a man give you that a woman can't, Beth?" she asked in reply to a question. "A penis? A woman doesn't need that to satisfy her, but if she does there are a dozen good substitutes that she or her female lover can insert into her to provide the same effect only more gently."
"But is it as good as the real thing?" Beth asked as she continued to fight to regain her composure.
"Put it this way, dear," Joan smiled. "Would it take much to be better than you got last night?"
"Oooh, that was a low blow, Joan. I must admit though that digging a ditch would have given me more pleasure than that."
"Sorry about hitting below the belt, dear. I guess it may be because we lesbians are constantly being called on to defend our stand."
Their conversation became more animated then and went on through another round of drinks. Not wanting her friend to become intoxicated, Joan mixed them long and relatively weak. She wanted to seduce her, but wanted it to happen naturally and without the aid of alcohol beyond enough to relax them both.
The more deeply she delved into the subject, the more Beth sensed that she should turn her back on it before the pull became too strong.
And yet, she couldn't shut off an interest that grew by the minute.
"How were his kisses last night?" Joan asked. "I mean before it happened, while you were still necking."
"To tell the truth, they were good. I guess that's why he got that far before I knew what was happening."
"But of course," Joan came back calmly, "never having been kissed that way by a woman, you can't understand that a woman's kiss can be as good or better."
Beth was still trying to find something to say in reply when Joan spoke again.
"Put your glass down, Beth. I want to show you something that may surprise you."
Beth did so with an obedience that surprised her. She saw that Joan had put her glass down and knew the woman was going to kiss her.
"Oh Joan," she said weakly, "I don't think I should. Please, Joan, I think I'm still fright...."
That was as far as she got with her protest. Joan used no force at all, she was completely gentle as she gathered Beth into her embrace and brought their mouths together.
The kiss began as a light, gentle, thing, but before long, their breasts rubbed as they writhed through a kiss which contained more passion than any Beth had ever known.
"Oh Joan," Beth panted as their faces drew a little apart, "I've never known a kiss like that. It has all the passion of a man kiss, but it was so gentle and sensitive."
"Of course, dear. That's what it is all about. Only a woman can understand what a woman needs and wants. The man seeks his own satisfaction and tries to demonstrate his masculinity the same way the cave man did thousands of years ago. He no longer beats the woman over the head with a club, but he uses that fleshy club between his legs in the same caveman style. He doesn't give a damn about being gentle, that wouldn't be manly enough for him."
Realizing she had been speaking a little too loudly, Joan stopped talking and flashed the younger woman a warm smile. When she opened her arms, Beth moved back into them without a moment of hesitation. Again they kissed and again it was wildly exciting.
"We could have made that kiss even better," Joan whispered into Beth's ear as they drew apart again.
'Tell me how."
"If we had our dresses off, we would feel our breasts rubbing and would feel smooth skin under our hands while we embraced. I'm going to take mine off, let me open yours for you."
Beth did not answer, but instead, she reached behind the woman, opened the catch at the top of her dress and slid the zipper all the way down. Joan did the same for her and they stood and stepped out of their dresses.
Joan wore a half slip which she pushed down and off, Beth wore only bra and panties. Both wore garter belt and nylons.
For a moment, they stood and looked at each other, each appreciating the beauty of the other. For Beth, it was a new experience, for Joan it was a beautiful repetition of a very old experience. For both, it was beautiful and exciting.
By mutual consent, they moved into another embrace. This time, because they were standing, they embraced along the full length of their bodies.
"Help me Joan," Beth breathed the words warmly, "I'm frightened, but I want to do it."
'Trust me dear. Relax and it will be very good. We are going to go to my bedroom now, dear. It will be much better that way."
Holding hands, they walked toward the bedroom. Beth trembled with desire and an arousal which surpassed other desires she had known with men immeasurably. Inside the bedroom, Joan stopped them and they looked at their reflections in the big, full length mirror.
Beth caught her breath and knew suddenly that there was no reason to be frightened. She knew she looked beautiful in her match set of pale blue bra, panties and garter belt. Joan too was stunning. Her figure was just a little bigger than Beth's in every respect, and the black bra and panties did exciting things to it as they both concealed and revealed.
Joan had intended taking Beth right to the bed, but seeing the gleam of desire in the younger woman's eyes, she changed her mind. Reaching around Beth, her fingers moved smoothly as they unhooked her bra. In a moment, she was taking it off Beth's smooth arms to bare a pair of breasts that were spectacular in their firm, youthful beauty.
She felt Beth's fingers moving on her back and there was nothing nervous about their movement. They were sure and smooth as they slipped the catch of her bra and pulled the light garment off her arms.
Beth marveled at the beauty of Joan's body as the woman bent to catch the waistband of Beth's panties and slip them over the swelling mounds of firm buttocks. To the young woman who trembled with anticipation now rather than fear, her own body had never looked so excitingly beautiful, so ready to give and to take in an act of love.
Moments later, she had stepped out of her panties and was discovering that there was an erotic thrill in taking another woman's panties down and off. With it, came the breathtaking excitement of seeing Joan's body gradually bared so that when she stepped easily out of her discarded panties, nothing but garter belt and nylons remained to accent the flawless beauty of her skin.
Joan displayed magnificent buttocks and thighs as she bent to pull the sheet back off the bed. In a moment, she turned and held her arms out to Beth. When they stood in their embrace this time, bared breasts rubbed excitingly, thighs and bellies pressed and rubbed, while their mouths fed passion into each other and their hands stimulated it behind.
Beth heard a little cry of passion and felt Joan urge her down onto the wide comfortable bed. When they embraced again, they were lying in each other's arms and Joan was telling her of the wonderful joy that was to be theirs.
"You must teach me, Joan. I want to be a good lover to you."
"I shall, darling. We shall both be wonderful lovers. I'll teach you by doing and you'll do the same things to me."
Beth felt gentle, loving hands begin to fondle her breasts then and knew that it had begun. Sighing, she urged her body toward Joan in joyous surrender. She was not just being taken, she was giving and her gift was being received.
In a little while, a hand moved away from her breast and she felt warm, moist lips engulfing her sensitive nipple. The warm mouth spread wider then and drew into it a portion of the silken, white base on which the darkening, hardening nipple perched like a jewel.
Writhing in ecstasy, Beth knew suddenly that she had to know the feel of a woman's breast in her hands and her mouth. She turned in the bed to satisfy that need and Joan gave her breasts willingly, eagerly into the care of Beth's trembling hands and warm mouth.
A little later, Joan moved the lesson in lesbian love farther along as her hands stroked and patted beautiful thighs and slowly moved them apart to fondle even more intimately between them.
Before long, Beth again followed the lead and thrilled at the touch of her hands on Joan's sensitive inner thighs. A moment later, the thrill surged anew as her fingers found the delicate labia and she heard her friend almost crying in arousal.
But there remained another lead to be taken and Joan took it. Moving swiftly but smoothly, she mounted Beth's excitingly wet, heaving body, cupped warm buttocks with both hands, then pressed her face between thighs which tensed for only a moment, then fell wide apart in surrender as the warm mouth claimed the lips of her vulva and a delicious tongue darted cunningly into her vagina.
Beth closed her eyes tightly and cried out, but the delicious ravishment of her fleshy badge of womanhood was only beginning. When she did open her eyes, she looked directly above her to see the writhing buttocks and the inviting crotch of the woman who was so deliciously loving her body.
Her hands reached up to claim Joan's body and pull it down to her. It obeyed the suggestion of her hands and she watched in wild elation as the crotch came down on her face, the sweet, pink labia meeting her mouth in a kiss.
Joan pressed her crotch down hard and rubbed Beth's eager mouth for a moment before the woman relaxed and left Beth free to return the kiss she was receiving for the very first time.
But it was so much more than just a kiss. Inside her wildly aroused vagina, the tongue was moving with a sensation that was even more wonderful than Beth had always imagined an erect penis would feel.
She felt her whole body tensing and knew that she was on the verge of an orgasm, an orgasm brought on by the mouth and tongue of another woman. For just a moment, she told herself it couldn't be, and then she knew it could and it was.
Beth's arms wrapped crushingly around Joan's body as if she could pull the woman's crotch entirely into her mouth to devour the sweetness of it. She heard herself cry out loudly, but sensed that her sound was muffled in the warmth of Joan's crotch.
Her cry went on for a long time, and only when it was ending in a series of strangled sobs, did she become aware that Joan too was singing the joy of completion between her thighs.
For a little while, they continued to lie together, end to end in the classic embrace born long ago on the Isle of Lesbos.
When they moved around to embrace in a more conventional position each saw the glistening wet face of the other and thrilled to the feel of their mingled moisture as they met in a passionate kiss in which their tongues, untired by the labors of love, met again.
And then there was time to talk and drink again as the women returned to the other room, still wearing garter belts and nylons, but nothing else.
Sitting close together on the couch as they sipped and chatted, they agreed that Beth would move into the apartment with Joan and that they would become lovers. Joan promised to teach her many other methods of making love, some of which involved an inanimate substitute for the male penis which provided the thrill of sexual intercourse without a man actually invading the sanctity of their lesbian love nest.
To the surprise of her parents, Beth made the move the following day. One day after that, she went to work in the interior decorating studio Joan operated and began to learn the art of interior decorating.
Now, more than four years later, the lovers are still very much in love and ideally happy. In business and in the social world, they are accepted widely as intelligent, personable women with many friends.
Some of their friends, of whom I am pleased to count myself one, are aware of their lesbian relationship, but none judge them on that basis.
They are what they are, and in being that, they each give happiness to the other. As happy women, they make a contribution of happiness to all who come in contact with them in everyday life. What more could anyone ask?
CASE HISTORY
Dawn
Dawn married shortly after her twentieth birthday and began what she assumed would be the typical life of a young wife in an average, upper-middle class suburb.
Although not a virgin at marriage, she had relatively little sex experience to that point.
Neither, for that matter, did her husband, but together, during the first few months of marriage, they reveled in exploring the rights and rites of the marriage state.
The pace dropped off then when her husband received a promotion. Convinced that he had a chance to go all the way in the world of business, he devoted more and more time to the job and less and less to his wife.
For months after that, Dawn tried in every way to get her husband to be a lover again. From time to time, they engaged in a mild form of sexual intercourse, but she knew he was only doing it to stop her complaints or to release some pressure within himself. To any woman, such a realization is a shattering blow.
On their first anniversary, Dawn broached the subject, but her husband angrily told her that his career was the most important thing at that time. Later, he shrugged, there would be more time for fun. Dawn stopped arguing, she knew there would be no later, he would never stop trying to climb higher in the world of business.
She went on that way until her twenty-second birthday. That day, her husband phoned from a distant city to inform her that he had to stay on there another two or three days to close a deal.
He didn't seem to know it was her birthday and she didn't tell him.
That afternoon, a woman friend dropped in to chat. The friend, Hope was about thirty, and, like Dawn, had a husband who was more married to his job than to his wife and children.
"I didn't think you were that much of a drinker," Hope commented with a grin as she saw the half filled bottle of scotch on the table and the glass beside it.
"I'm not, but what the hell does a woman do when she's alone on her birthday and her husband doesn't even know or care what day it is?"
Before her visitor could reply, Dawn began crying. In a moment, the older woman was kneeling beside her chair, holding and comforting her as best she could.
After a little while, Dawn regained partial control of herself and allowed Hope to take her to the couch where they sat. Hope kept her arm around the young woman as they began to talk.
The release provided by a sympathetic listener spurred Dawn to blurt out her whole unhappy story. Later, Hope told her how much company she had in her state of misery.
It provided them with a bond that led to more conversation and another drink. Dawn's tears dried on her face, but she still felt them in her heart, her stomach, and most strongly, between her neglected thighs.
"But what do we do?" Hope asked in a plaintive tone at one point.
"Whatever we do, baby," Hope replied warmly, "booze is not a very good answer. It only sharpens the edge of hurt."
"But damn it, Hope, all I want is to be loved. Surely that isn't unreasonable."
"I don't think it's unreasonable at all, baby. As a matter-of-fact, I think that any man who has a yummy little thing like you around is crazy to ever get out of bed."
As she said the words, Hope moved her left hand a little and it closed gently over a full breast through Dawn's blouse. For a moment, Dawn tensed. No woman had ever touched her that way before. Then, as the hand stayed there and gave a little squeeze, she emitted a sound that was much like a sob.
"Damn, Hope," she almost cried, "I'm getting so horny that even that feels good."
"Why shouldn't it?" Hope asked as she squeezed again.
"But you're a woman. I shouldn't feel that way about another woman."
"If we're going to talk about should and shouldn't, I can add that your husband shouldn't neglect you that way."
"But it isn't normal," Dawn protested weakly.
"What's normal? If you haven't tried it, baby, don't knock it."
"You say that as if you've tried it," Dawn said more as a question than a statement.
"Sure I have. So have a lot of gals I know, some of them right in this district. It can be a whole lot better than doing the old maid bit with a candle or playing stink finger."
"Are you serious?" Dawn asked, her eyes widening.
"Of course I am. Want to hear about it?" Without waiting for a reply, Hope began to tell about her seduction by a young housewife five years before when her husband, like Dawn's, had been too busy to satisfy her needs.
She told it in vivid detail and when she told of the woman stroking her thighs, she slid a hand under Dawn's skirt and demonstrated. Dawn trembled nicely and Hope gained confidence.
As the story ended, Hope's hand moved up over the expanded top of Dawn's nylon to stroke her smooth thigh. At the same time, she drew the trembling younger woman into a passionate embrace and kissed her on the mouth.
Dawn resisted only a little as Hope unfastened her blouse, quickly removed her bra, and began sucking a firm breast. She forgot to resist when the woman parted her legs and sent her hand between them to stroke the heat that was contained in the crotch of her nylon panties.
Minutes later, both women were naked and Dawn was lying back writhing on the couch while Hope performed cunnilingus on her until she achieved climax.
After that, Dawn tried to feel guilty, but her body felt so good that her mind refused to cooperate. It had been more than a year since she had felt so completely satisfied.
They chatted while they finished the drinks that had been ignored while they loved, then they began to play again. With Hope guiding her, Dawn began to take the offensive and found a new thrill in fondling and kissing the body of another woman.
Before she finished, Dawn carried her kisses between the woman's parted thighs and kept them there until Hope squirmed and jerked through a good orgasm.
The two women met often after that, so often that word began to spread around the neighborhood. In time, an ugly note was delivered to Dawn's husband.
Two days after he received the note, a private investigator pushed open the bedroom door and caught Dawn and Hope naked, trying to break out of an act of mutual cunnilingus. He thanked them for their cooperation and assured them that he had a clear photograph then took his leave, suggesting that they resume their play.
Expressing horror at his wife being a "filthy queer," and refusing to assume any responsibility for her venture into lesbianism, he announced that he was going to divorce her at once.
His one gesture of charity, was to allow her to admit to adultery and divorce her on those grounds. It saved her the worse shame of being exposed as a lesbian. Because she cooperated fully and asked for no settlement, the divorce was quickly granted and Dawn found herself alone and starting all over.
She phoned Hope one day and learned that Hope's husband had been told all, but had admitted his own failure and they had agreed to start all over. She could not, of course, see Dawn again.
Dawn found a secretarial job that paid enough to allow her a small apartment. She had enough clothes so that they did not constitute an expenditure.
Alone and at loose ends, she began frequenting bars as a way of killing time and being among people rather than in her room with only her thoughts for company.
She knew of a bar where lesbians were reputed to hang out. For a long time, she resisted the urge to go there, then, one Friday evening, with a long lonely weekend facing her, she stopped fighting and went there.
A woman who appeared to be about forty picked her up and took her home. There was something exciting about the woman, there was a strength about her that was masculine, Dawn thought.
She learned much more about that strength during the night, and when she limped tiredly away from the house in the morning, her body was covered with bruises from the woman's hands and fists, and welts that had been applied with a razor strop. Her mouth and jaws were sore from having been gagged for so many hours while the "diesel dyke" worked her over.
Later that Saturday, Dawn's mind gave up the fight and she began screaming. Neighbors eventually called police who came and took her away. She was examined and dispatched to a mental hospital for observation.
Dawn remained in the hospital for more than seven months before being released on an out patient basis. She was able to find another job and another apartment for a third start in life.
The prognosis in her case is good. She keeps her appointments with the psychiatrist faithfully and is making good progress. When her doctor decides that treatment is no longer necessary, she will, according to her present plans, move to another city and make a fresh start where she is completely unknown.
CASE HISTORY
Cathy
Cathy was a studious girl of sixteen whose chief passion in life was to complete her education and become a school teacher. Although very attractive, and with a body that was developing very promisingly, she was not interested in dating.
Her few earlier dates had been pretty much the same. Boys, she found, wanted to neck, then wanted more and were angry when they didn't get it.
Her parents were not too well off and she knew that the expense of college was going to be a challenge. With this in mind, she saved as much of her allowance as possible, and took every opportunity of baby sitting assignments to add to her savings.
It was on one of these assignments that she met Mona. At twenty-eight, Mona was a divorcee with a two year old child. She was also extremely attractive, with an eye-stopping figure and was a bisexual. As she put it with pride, "I'm ambisextrous; to me, a miss is as good as a male."
In referring to misses, Mona meant just that. Rarely would she bother with an opportunity to go to bed with any woman over the age of twenty-one or so, and even then, it would be because she was temporarily desperate for something younger and better.
She delighted in teenaged girls, especially those who had no previous lesbian experience. "Getting there is more than half the fun," she boasted to her friends as she talked passionately about the delight of seducing a young girl into a lesbian encounter.
Mona would have boarded her child out for the sake of her freedom, but on the other hand, the child gave her an excuse to hire baby sitters and that, in turn, provided her with opportunities to seduce young girls.
She met Cathy one evening when the girl was finishing a baby sitting assignment at the home of friends. Since she was driving home anyway, Mona offered to drive Cathy to her home.
On the way, they chatted easily and Mona learned of the girl's passion for saving money toward the cost of her education. It gave her the lead she wanted in finding a way to, as she would phrase it, "get into her pretty little panties and eat her pussy."
Mona liked to use such phrases and used them often. She felt it provided the right air of sophistication, what she called the Continental touch.
A couple of days later, she phoned Cathy late in the afternoon and asked if she would baby sit that night. Cathy was available and delighted at having a new client for her services.
The assignment ended a little before midnight and the woman shocked her by paying double the going rate. When Cathy told her it was too much, Mona shrugged it off by stating that she enjoyed being generous. Mona drove her home and they chatted easily.
During the drive, Cathy noticed that the woman's dress rode high up her thighs so that bare skin showed above the tops of her nylons. She also noticed that the legs were beautiful and firm looking.
Mona engaged Cathy's services twice more within the week and the girl was delighted at what it meant in the way of increased savings. Mona alone became as important as all the rest of her clients and that was precisely what the woman had in mind. She had to become so important to the girl that Cathy would do anything to avoid losing her as a client. The anything was restricted to getting into Mona's bed naked with her and submitting her tender young body to the woman's will.
Deciding she had been patient enough, and unwilling to wait any longer, Mona called Cathy on a Wednesday and asked her to sit on Friday evening. Telhng the girl she would be out very late, she suggested that Cathy plan on spending the night with her rather than go home so late.
Sensing a fat fee for so long a session, Cathy agreed with pleasure. Her pleasure was more than reflected in the woman's anticipation.
After a long couple of days during which Mona did nothing and allowed her desire to build, Friday evening arrived and with it, Cathy.
"You look beautiful, Mona," Cathy said as the woman, dressed in her best, greeted the girl and admitted her to the apartment.
"Would you believe it's all wasted?" Mona replied with a frown. 'That damn man called me just two minutes ago and told me he couldn't make it."
"Oh that's terrible," Cathy replied, seeing her big fee go down the drain along with Mona's plans. "I guess you won't be needing me then."
"Don't you dare leave," Mona hurriedly replied with a warm smile. "I can't stand the thought of being alone this evening, so you'll baby sit me."
"I'll stay," Cathy agreed, "but I can't charge you for it."
"Whether or not you charge, Cathy, I intend to pay you just what I would have for the whole night. I know Friday is a big night in your business and you could have taken another job if it hadn't been for this."
Within a few minutes, woman and girl were sitting on the couch. Records played quietly in the background, and each of them sipped at a drink. The girl drank Coke, while Mona held a Vodka Collins.
At first, Mona discussed the fickleness of men who, she pointed out, expect the woman to always be ready when it is convenient to them, but don't hesitate to break dates when that serves their purpose.
It was not long before Cathy was telling her how she had stopped dating because guys always want the same thing from a girl when they take her out.
Cleverly, Mona kept the subject alive so that their chat turned into a tirade against men.
"Mind you, Cathy," she smiled as she lowered her voice, "I can understand why the boys want to get under your skirt. You are a real beauty. More a woman than a girl, and that's what they want."
Blushing, Cathy thanked her and would have changed the subject, but Mona was not about to permit that. Discussing figures, Mona asked the girl about her dimensions. The only one Cathy knew was her bra size, thirty-four-B.
"Oh that sounds lovely, dear," Mona replied warmly. "I bet they're so firm that you don't really need a bra anyway. Lucky you. With this thirty-eight-C pair of mine, I have to wear a bra all the time. Do you ever go out without one?"
"No," the girl replied shyly. "You know what boys are like. They seem to be able to tell and they're always finding some way to brush against you or something. It's the same behind. You know."
Mona agreed she knew and told how she never wore a girdle and how men often stood close behind her in an elevator or other confined place and she could feel them getting hard as they pressed against her buttocks.
More and more, Cathy became aware of a strange feeling settling over her. She wished she could change the subject before the woman discovered what was happening to her, but she was powerless.
Bringing the subject back to bras, Mona told of how difficult it was to find one that was glamorous enough, yet comfortable. Telling of one she had just found, she opened the top of her dress and pulled it down to her waist to let Cathy see her bra.
Cathy saw more than the bra. It was French silk lace and actually showed more of the luscious breasts than it hid. Cutouts permitted the pink nipples to poke through, and the open lace showed much of the creamy white slopes. In addition, the cups were well formed and spaced so that almost all of her cleavage was bared to view.
"You have very beautiful breasts," Cathy ventured in a shy voice as she hoped she could keep from trembling too much and giving away her excitement.
'Thank you, dear," the woman smiled as she cupped them from below. "I guess they're not bad for an old woman of twenty-eight. Would you like to see them?"
Cathy flushed to the roots of her hair. She wished the woman would put her dress back on, yet she guessed she was being treated as a woman rather than a girl and didn't want to spoil it.
Sensing what was happening in the girl's mind, Mona didn't wait for a reply. Instead, she quickly unhooked the bra and took it off. The breasts which bobbed free were indeed beautiful, pink tipped, firm, well rounded and held high.
Confident that the girl was ready to be taken farther along the road to her seduction, Mona used her most seductive tone as she told of how, during college days, the young women would often compare breasts, legs and even buttocks as they sat around in the evenings. She told other stories too of initiations and fun and games in the sorority house.
"Of course," she added cunningly, 'it's different when you get to college level. Girls there are more sophisticated and don't have all the silly inhibitions of the less intelligent girls. I suspect you'll fit into the scheme of things well when you get there. In fact, I rather think you are a pretty broad minded girl right now."
She refused to allow Cathy to change the subject as she went on with her stories of college days.
"Cathy," she whispered urgently, "be a dear and remind me of those good old days. Let me see your breasts. I know they must be very beautiful."
When the girl was slow to respond, Mona offered to help and began unfastening the top of her dress. Although she trembled with terror at what was happening, Cathy did not dare protest. The woman considered her sophisticated and mature, she couldn't act like the silly, inexperienced girl she was.
And then her dress hung down at her waist and her bra was off. She looked down at her bared breasts, beautiful, but so much smaller than those of the woman.
"Oh, you have a lovely set, Cathy," Mona said as she reached and caught one in each hand. "I only wish mine were as young and firm as yours."
"But they are, Mona," Cathy answered weakly.
"No they're not dear. Feel them and you'll see what a difference there is."
Cathy started to raise her hands, then stopped in fear. Smiling, Mona moved closer to her in erotic invitation and sighed as she felt the gentle young hands cup her firm mounds in frightened obedience.
"There now, Cathy, it is fun, isn't it?" as she asked, she began to fondle and massage Cathy's breasts. To her delight, the girl was soon doing the same to her.
Convinced that it was the right time, Mona drew the girl into an embrace and kissed her mouth. Again, Cathy responded as she kissed back and her arms moved warmly over Joan's bare back. The contact of their nude breasts stoked the fires for both of them.
Knowing that it was up to her to set the pace all through the seduction, Joan moved just a little away and pushed her dress all the way down. Bending over the couch then, she easily pulled the girl's dress off, bent closely over her and began to fondle her thighs and panty clad bottom with a gentle, loving touch which ensured that Cathy kept sighing and becoming more and more aroused.
Joan saw how well it was working when the girl turned quickly and reached for her. The young hands swarmed all over her thighs, buttocks and crotch as if Cathy had four rather than the standard two.
"Go ahead, dear," Joan encouraged, "take my panties right down and feel me all over."
In a moment, Joan felt her panties fall to her feet and stepped out of them. As she did, she moved right over the girl and began to strip her clinging nylon panties down.
"I knew you would be a rare beauty, Cathy darling," she said in a husky whisper as she finished baring the lovely young body. "It's going to be very, very good for both of us. You'll see."
Deciding against drawing Cathy directly into mutual cunnilingus, Joan raised the girl's thighs and parted them as she did. While Cathy trembled and sighed, Joan slowly kissed her way up a smooth inner thigh until her mouth was grazing lightly in the warmth of the young crotch. With a little groan of excitement, Joan pressed her mouth down on the waiting vulva and thrilled at the cry it brought. She pressed harder, cupped Cathy's buttocks with both hands, and sent her tongue into the small opening.
Joan knew she had done her job well and that Cathy would soon reach a climax. Her educated tongue persisted, and she heard and felt the signs she had been waiting for. Pulling the girl more closely against her face, she held her close while Cathy cried through a sustained orgasm that left her weak, limp and no longer an innocent little girl. It also left a smile on her face that threatened to stay there for a very long time.
As they lay together resting, Joan explained many things to her apprentice lover. Among them, was her own great need that had to be met quickly. Cathy was not at all hesitant about offering to meet that need for her in the way the woman had done it to her.
They changed places then and Joan opened her legs wide.
"Be nice to me, baby," she sighed. "Give me plenty of tongue and make me go off like a rocket."
Cathy didn't need to reply, but she couldn't have done so even if she wanted. Her face was pressed all the way in between the columned thighs and her tongue was doing just what the teacher ordered.
Joan climaxed well and quickly and they stopped to rest again. Later in the evening, Joan taught the girl the trick of doing it to each other at the same time, and they shared a wonderful enjoyment as they brought each other to climax only a few seconds apart.
Tired by their strenuous activity, they went to bed early and slept close to each other. During the night, they wakened a couple of times, played their erotic games, then slept again.
When Cathy wakened in the morning, she looked into the mirror and assured herself that she could see a change. It was obvious to her that she was no longer a girl. She was, she told herself, a woman. Not just an ordinary woman, but a very special one with very special talents and powers not given to all women.
Joan walked over to join her in front of the mirror to confirm everything Cathy was thinking, then they returned to the bed and added to Cathy's status as a lesbian lover.
After a few weeks, Cathy found herself out in the cold as Joan found and trained a new girl. It hurt at first, but she soon found that there were many women on the prowl for a beautiful teenager who could do all the things they wanted.
When she met one whom she considered to be on the make, Cathy would return the smile boldly and arch her eyebrows a little. There would be a conversation, then they would go together to an apartment or a hotel room and make love.
On her third such encounter, the woman offered her twenty dollars to go to her apartment with her. Her love of money still intact, Cathy accepted eagerly and performed so well that the woman added a five dollar bonus. She also made a note of Cathy's phone number and assured the girl that she would often call to have her come to the apartment to baby sit in her special manner.
At seventeen, Cathy left school. Her plans for a career as a teacher had been derailed by the realization that she could work less, make much more money and have a lot more fun by working as a lesbian prostitute.
She is twenty now, still beautiful, still making love for money and still a virgin in the technical sense. Cathy has more clients than she can cope with and is able to keep her lists trimmed by setting her fees high.
When I talked to her recently, Cathy assured me that in turning to the life of a lesbian prostitute so that she is paid well for doing what she enjoys, she has found the best of two worlds.
Initially, one wonders about her happiness and the continuation of that state. The life of a lesbian in our society can be difficult, so can the life of a prostitute. And yet, is there cause for fears or tears?
Many young women of her age find themselves trapped in bad marriages and anchored there by children and poverty. True, they are more conventional than she in their lives, but is that all there is to life?
I do not, of course, glorify either lesbianism or prostitution, but neither do I condemn them. In Cathy's case, she is doing what she-likes best, and making more money than the vast majority of women of her age.
She is investing her income wisely so that she will not have to work beyond the point where nature dictates that she should leave the field to other, younger women.
In many cases we have considered in the course of this book, we saw how women slipped or were pushed into a course of life, but this was not so in her case.
True, she was seduced, but after that, she set her own course and has followed it truly since then. One could well wish that fate would be so kind to all girls after they have been seduced.
