Sexual affairs between mature women and teen-aged boys have been going on since the beginning of time, but were never publicized until recently. On Broadway a play called Forty Carats tells of a romance between a woman of forty and a boy of twenty and, in the movies, The Graduate has a plot involving a middle-aged woman and a lad just out of college. The public is now beginning to realize that a mature woman's sexual needs remain active despite her advancing years. For satisfaction, a surprising number of these women turn to virile young studs the same way older men seek much younger girls.
As a psychologist, I am aware that women reach their sexual peaks in their late thirties and early forties while the male of the species begins his sexual decline once out of his teens. This means that the ideal relationship is between a mature woman and a teen-aged boy, since they are both at the top of their sexual form. Benjamin Franklin, a very astute man of letters and politics, once wrote a tract called: Advice to a Young Man on Selecting a Mistress. He told the youthful hot bloods of his time to forget about girls their age and find themselves women who were fifteen and twenty years older. Not only were these mature females more grateful than young girls, they were also a great deal more sexual, Franklin claimed.
While very few of the teen-aged studs detailed in this study ever read Advice to a Young Man on Selecting a Mistress, they have taken Benjamin Franklin's advice and found passion, travel, and adventure with grateful middle-aged women. These boys, between the ages of fifteen and seventeen, come from a variety of backgrounds ranging from ghetto black to wealthy white. The women also have the same range of backgrounds which proves that the need of older females for very young males is not a limited phenomenon.
In every country in the world, it is expected that a husband should be at least as old as his wife or older. The reasoning behind this is that it takes time for men to establish themselves in business to support a wife, so they have to spend years to become financially secure first before even considering marriage. Since a woman's child-bearing period is restricted to her youth, the more mature man selects younger women in order to have a family. While this pairing of mature man to younger woman makes financial sense, it has a lot of flaws romantically. By the time a younger woman reaches her sexual peak at the beginning of middle age her husband is no longer able to or interested in gratifying her needs. This is the problem faced by millions of women all over the world today. But, in increasing numbers, they are solving this problem by the direct approach: finding young studs able to, and interested in, filling the gaps left by their husbands.
There have already been several books written about the relationships between mature women and their boys but always from the female point of view. I undertook this investigation to find out what the young studs thought of their affairs with women old enough to be their mothers. Here, then, for the first time in publishing history, the teen-aged studs tell their stories.
Adam C. Parker, Ph.D.
1 BILLY age 15
Billy is a baby-faced lad with unruly sandy-colored hair and blue eyes. At the time of this tape-recorded interview he was living with a divorcee of thirty-nine in a fashionable apartment overlooking Central Park in New York City. The woman who was supporting him listened to her young lover's story with a bemused smile, saying nothing and sipping drinks. like many other such couples, both seemed very proud of their strange relationship and even seemed to flaunt it as if they wanted to tell the world that a twenty-four year difference in age meant nothing as far as sex was concerned.
"Man, I got it knocked-up here with Karen. She's even older than my mother but I don't care. Karen doesn't care either and that's why she's letting me talk into this here tape recorder.
"My family lives just about fifty miles away in New Jersey but it could be a million miles away when you compare this place with my home. I'm the oldest of seven boys and three girls so you can imagine what it's like crowded into a small, frame house. Man, I just had to leave that place or be squeezed to death!
"I guess I would still be there going to school and all that crap but no one seemed to care if I left or stayed. In the very beginning it wasn't bad when there was just me and a couple more brothers. My mother had time for me then and she used to take me places. Sometimes my parents would leave the two youngest ones with a baby-sitter and bring me out in a row boat. We would have a picnic on the grass and I was pretty happy then, I guess. Then the kids kept coming and my parents had all they could do just to see that we had something to eat. Man, what a scene. I felt like I was in a big orphanage instead of a private home with a mother and father.
"I never did well at school even though I'm supposed to have a high I.Q. A teacher once told me that I could get a scholarship to go to college if only I applied myself. But how could you apply yourself when you hardly have room to sit down, let alone study, in the house, and your mother and father didn't care about your marks?
"Hey, I don't want to sound like I hate my folks, because I don't. They never beat me or anything like that. They liked me, I guess, but they just didn't have the time to show it.
"My best friends were all older than I was and I used to run around with them a lot. I never could get along with kids my age and younger. Maybe it was because I had so many younger kids at home that I got sick of them. I always had to take care of them and I wanted someone to take care of me for awhile.
"When I was fourteen, two guys who were four and five years older said it was time I got laid. I was kind of a mascot to them, and they liked to kid around with me a lot so I thought they were only joking. They picked up a couple of girls their own age and had me sit between them in the back seat. 'Billy is a cherry,' George, the nineteen-year-old told them. 'Let's make a man out of him.'
"Carol, a pretty blonde girl, put her hand in my lap and squeezed my crotch. 'You feel like a big enough boy, Billy,' she said. 'I can't believe you've never been fucked.'
"I began to wonder if they were serious about me having sex for the first time or not. My face burned, and the girls laughed at the way I blushed. George drove to a cottage his parents owned and took us inside. There was cold beer in the refrigerator and he passed some cans around. When he handed me one he said, 'I can't give booze to kids but, if you get laid, you won't be a kid anymore so I guess you can have one.'
"I watched as the teen-aged couples drank beer and talked sex. I never knew that girls used such words. 'Let's see that cock of yours again, Georgie,' Carol laughed. 'I think I fucked you dry last night.'
"George opened his pants and pulled his prick out. It was stiff and the blonde girl yanked on it a few times. I was so surprised that I stood there with my mouth open. To a fourteen-year-old virgin boy this was a regular sex orgy already.
"The couples ignored me at first as they stripped off their clothes. I could see that this wasn't the first time they all fucked. When Carol took off her bra I stared at naked tits for the first time in my life. Her nipples were very large and very red. When she took off her panties I looked at a cunt for the first time. I never knew that girls had hair between their legs. Once I had caught sight of one of my kid sisters in the nude and saw that slit between her chubby little legs. From then on I thought all females had hairless cunts. Well, I thought this until I saw Carol naked. I had such a hard on I thought I'd shoot a load in my pants.
"The older teen-agers started fucking right away. I watched the guys move their asses up and down after they shoved their cocks inside the girls. I stood there with all my clothes on and a can of beer getting warm in my hands. I felt like an idiot kid. I couldn't believe that Carol or the other girls would have me fuck them, too.
"There didn't seem to be much to screwing as I watched. All you had to do was shove your dong into a slit and pump. George let out a moan and his ass stopped moving. Carol then moaned and I knew that he was shooting his load.
"The other couple fucked in the same way and my prick felt as if it were about to bust wide open. George then got off Carol and looked at me. 'Come on, Billy,' he said. 'Jump in, the water's fine.'
"My hands trembled so much that I spilt some of the beer. He actually wanted me to screw a girl ... a nineteen-year-old one at that!
"George and the others didn't tease me as they could have if they wanted to. Carol was the nicest and spoke to me like a grown-up instead of a jerky kid. "Take off your clothes, Billy,' she said sweetly. 'Sex is the best thing in the world.'
"All four watched me as I took off my clothes. When I lowered my shorts and exposed my hard prick, Carol said I was almost a man between my legs. George told me that he'd be proud to carry a weapon like mine. He told me how to get on top of Carol and my whole body shook when I did. I felt my cock slip into the girl's warm slit and I started to pump as I had seen the other fellows do. I was so worked up that I shot my come inside of seconds. When I poured into Carol she said, 'Oh, baby, you're too much!'
"That was the first time I ever got laid. How many kids of fourteen lose their cherries? I wanted to screw Carol again but she never asked me. I guess it was sort of a gag all along for her, fucking a fourteen-year-old. But, shit, I didn't mind. Once I had my pussy I wanted more.
"I tried to screw a girl my own age once, but she got scared and told her parents. Her father came around to the house wanting to beat me up or have me arrested for attempted rape, but he cooled down and dropped the subject. He told me never to come within ten feet of his daughter again, though. After that I avoided her and all other girls my own age. I was safer with older girls.
"Some of the older guys I knew always talked about leaving the sticks .and making it in the big city. They said that a good-looking young stud could get along just by fucking older women. This planted the seed in my mind to blow the town and try New York City. All I needed was an excuse and it came when two of my teachers told me that I had to be left back. Instead of letting my parents know, I took off and headed for the big city.
"I hung around Times Square for awhile, but I didn't like it. Creepy guys kept trying to pick me up. I never did go for queers; only women turned me on. There were a lot of rich-looking women in New York, but I didn't know how to talk to them. I hoped that one of them would talk to me and wonder what a fifteen-year-old kid was doing all alone in the city. The only ones who talked to me were the dirty old men, so I was very depressed that first day in New York.
"I didn't have much money with me and spent some of it on a room at the YMCA. The next morning I hung around Central Park trying to pick up older women. When I saw one with a dog, I'd ask her if she wanted me to walk it. Most of them acted as if I wanted to steal their mutts. People in New York seemed to be frightened to death by strangers.
"My money was running out fast, so I left the Y and started sleeping in cars. This was dangerous because someone could always find me there and have me arrested. One night I was so tired that I crawled into the back seat of this big, imagine car and went off to sleep like a rock. The next thing I know someone is tugging at my shoulder. 'Out you ass!' a woman shouted.
"When I opened my eyes I saw this woman staring at me ... Karen. I told her that I was sorry and slipped out of the car. When I stood up Karen looked at me sadly. 'Why, you're just a child,' she said.
"I could tell by the look in her eyes that she liked me so I acted very sweet and innocent. I gave her some story about being a poor orphan boy who didn't want to be put in an institution. Karen patted my cheek and asked me if I were hungry. When I told her that I hadn't eaten all day she took me to this apartment.
"Karen told the doorman that I was her nephew and that I would be around for a while. This really got me excited. After finding me she was going to keep me. Once we got to the kitchen Karen fried some steak and made a big, fat sandwich out of it. She told me that she had been divorced for a year and that she was getting lonesome living by herself. Td marry again if I found a man who could give me more money than I'm getting from alimony,' she said, 'but rich, single, attractive males aren't too easy to find. Besides, they all want young girls. I've known some to go after girls your age. I can't see why older women can't chase teen-aged boys, too.'
"Karen ran her fingers through my hair when she said that and my cock started getting hard. I had finally found a woman who was in the mood for a young stud. I kept playing the innocent act pretending I didn't know she was after my ass. The sweeter I made myself appear the warmer Karen became. No grown woman had shown me so much attention before. I kept looking down her dress at her boobs and wished that I could see them completely naked.
"After I finished eating Karen told me that I would be more comfortable sleeping in the apartment than in the car. "This city is crawling with queers just dying to get their teeth into a cute boy like you,' she said.
"When I told her about the ones who had tried to pick me up she put her arms around me and kissed my cheek. 'Poor darling,' she sighed. 'You need someone to look after you.'
"Karen brushed one of her legs against my crotch and she drew back when she realized I had a hard on.
She smiled in a sexy way. 'You like me, Billy?' she asked.
" 'I like you a whole lot,' I told her and I could almost hear my heart pound with excitement.
" 'Have you ever had a girl?' she wanted to know.
"I wasn't sure if she were asking me if I ever had a girl friend or if I had fucked before, but I shook my head anyhow. Karen slipped her hands over my shirt and opened up a couple of buttons. "Time for bed,' she whispered.
"I took off my shirt and Karen put her hands on my bare chest. 'How nice and firm you are,' she said. 'I had forgotten how wonderful young males are. My ex-husband was already middle-aged when I married him, so I missed out on a lot of loving. I'm going to make up for that now.'
"I could see that Karen had the idea that I was as innocent as I was pretending to be. I let her think she was going to seduce a little boy and not a stud who knew what she wanted all along. When I took off the rest of my clothes she saw how big I was built between my legs. 'Darling!' she said. 'You're older than I thought!'
" "This isn't the first time for me,' I finally confessed and told her about Carol.
"This made her happy. 'Well, who is innocent these awful days,' she said and hugged me. My stiff cock rubbed against her dress and I was afraid I'd shoot my load.
"Karen took off her dress and slip. She sat down on a chair and undid the tops of her stockings from her garter belt. When she rolled the stockings off her legs and stood up I could see just how nice a figure she had. She was at least as old as my mother, but she was built more like Carol, that nineteen-year-old girl I had fucked back home.
"She took off her bra and her big tits bounced. She had very large, beet-red nipples that covered the front parts of her breasts almost completely. Karen pulled down her panties and I saw her hairy cunt. My prick jumped a bit and I thought I was going to come right then and there. 'Follow me, my pet,' Karen said and walked toward the bedroom.
"I followed her, staring at her beautiful ass. Her buttocks were pale and smooth, and there was a deep dimple over each one. When we were inside her bedroom she turned to me and rubbed her cunt hair against my prick lightly. 'I really shouldn't be doing this, Billy,' she said. 'You're still just a child no matter how much experience you've had and how well you're built.'
" 'But I want to,' I told her, afraid that she was trying to back out at the last second.
"Karen grabbed my cock and pulled me toward the bed. She stretched out on top of it and spread her legs wide. She turned on a bedside lamp. 'I like to fuck with the lights on,' she explained. "Too many people think that sex is something you should only do in the dark as if it were shameful'
"The woman had been thinking of me as a kid and now I wanted to show her that I could give her the kind of loving she hoped for. I wanted to prove myself a great stud even though I was still only fifteen.
"I crawled on top of her body and pressed my chest down on her huge, red nipples. Then I took hold of my cock and guided the tip of it to the hairy hole. Once I found it I shoved the entire length of my prick inside her cunt with one stroke. She moaned as Carol had, showing me that she was having fun.
"Remembering that blonde nineteen-year-old girl, I didn't want to come too fast. Women and girls had to be heated up first with fucking strokes, George had explained. I rammed and rammed doing my best to hold back the come juice that boiled in my balls. Karen kept getting more excited every time I shoved into her and she lifted her knees so that my hips moved between her soft thighs. She grabbed my ass and massaged it as I screwed. Carol had just lain there letting me do all the fucking, but Karen was cooperating. Older women, I suppose, are more experienced and better lovers than are teen-aged girls.
"When Karen curled her legs over me so that both her feet were planted on the mattress between my legs I couldn't hold back anymore. Her movement tightened up her cunt suddenly and all but squeezed the juice out of my body. I shot my load and Karen threw her head back. 'Billy!' she gasped. 'Oh, Billy boy!'
"I poured all my come into her, but she still held me with her arms and legs. We kissed with open mouths, and I felt my cock grow hard again inside her body. 'My, such a virile young stallion you are,' she said with her lips against my ear. 'I should have gone after you teen-aged boys long ago.'
"Once I had a full erection I started pumping again. This time I could keep up the fucking strokes longer because I had already shot a load. Under me the woman twisted and squirmed as her excitement increased. I kept pumping faster and faster until I shot a second load of hot come.
" 'Oh, my darling pet!' Karen said as she held me and stroked my ass. 'You're too good to be wasted on queers. If I don't take you they will, so you'll be living here from now on.'
"Well, that was three months ago. Karen says she wants to keep me forever and I'm not complaining. For the first time in my life I feel secure and loved. Look at all the room the two of us have. Why, back home I shared as much room with seven brothers, three sisters, and a set of parents. I used to be lost in a crowd when I lived at home but here I can be seen. I have a woman who knows I'm around and who treats me like I'm somebody.
"I've written to my parents letting them know I'm all right and not to worry about me. Naturally I didn't tell them that I was living with a thirty-nine-year-old woman, even though I was tempted to brag about it. They wouldn't believe me anyhow. I suppose most adults wouldn't believe that a fifteen-year-old boy could be a stud to a grown woman. If I were a girl and Karen were a man they'd believe it because everyone is used to hearing stories about dirty old men making it with young chicks. But, since I've come to New York I've noticed that a lot of mature women are going around with teen-aged studs they try to pawn off as their sons, nephews, and cousins. I'm not the only fifteen-year-old boy who is fucking a middle-aged woman in this town.
"In another couple of weeks Karen is taking me on a cruise ... first class. Imagine a poor boy like me traveling with a rich woman who is supporting him. If only my parents could see me now. Wouldn't my mother be surprised? If she found out I was fucking a woman older than she was she'd really sit up and take notice!"
Reaction: (This, like other reactions to interviews, was put on tape in the privacy of my own quarters.)
While young Billy-likes to pose as a worldly gigolo, he is basically a love-starved youngster clinging to someone who is giving him the attention and the affection he always craved. The last line in his interview is very revealing. "If she (his mother) found out I was fucking a woman older than she (his mother) was, she'd really sit up and take notice," the boy states, indicating that he always hungered for a mother's love. This is the main reason why Billy is attracted to mature females. He is not the rugged, lecherous "stud" he claims to be but a lonely boy in search of protection. Karen, the woman who took him into her bed, realizes this, but goes along with the game of pretending that a fifteen-year-old can replace the love of a mature man her own age. She impressed me as being someone with a need to both protect and dominate a male, so she and Billy are perfectly paired despite their vast difference in age.
Some teen-aged studs exploit older women without loving them, but this is not so in Billy's case. He developed a resentment toward people his own age and younger when he was forced, as the oldest boy in the family, to take care of a large brood of brothers and sisters. When he tried to make overtures to a girl his own age he got into trouble when she complained to her parents. This further alienated him from his contemporaries. As he claimed in his interview he only felt "safe" with older people.
Carol, the nineteen-year-old girl who permitted him the use of her body, was chiefly responsible for putting Billy on the road to older women. Since the boy was completely satisfied by his first experience with sex, his psychosexual pattern was formed. And this is centered around a deep-seated passion for mature females. Now that he has found love with Karen, a woman in her middle years, at the most formative period of his life, Billy will go on seeking out much older females after his affair with her ends. When he becomes middle-aged himself he will probably still seek out older women for he will remain pretty much the lost young boy in need of love and protection.
2 CHUCK age 17
Chuck is a tough, hard-eyed youngster with a lean, wiry body and a nervous disposition. Although he is only seventeen he is young in years only. At the time of this interview he was "between bags," as he put it, and living in a furnished room which was just slightly better than a flophouse. He agreed to be interviewed in this room only after I gave him some money.
"I don't do a damned thing for free, mister. In this fucking world you're either a sucker or a bastard, and I'm no sucker. If I don't take, someone else will try to take from me. I learned this before I was six years old.
"I was the youngest of four kids in my family, so I got all the shit. If I got hold of so much as a dime, one of my brothers or sisters would steal it from me. Since I was tiny and weak there was nothing I could do about it, but I promised myself that one day I would be the one to do all the taking.
"My oldest brother went into the army and got killed. He wasn't any kind of hero; he got killed when he stepped in front of a truck in Fort Ord, California. Anyhow, we got ten grand insurance from the army. I shouldn't say we, because my bastard of a father took it all and disappeared. I don't know where he is now. He's probably in a hut in the South Seas drinking himself to death slowly. It was something he always wanted to do. Anytime he got mad at us kids or my mother he would say he wished he'd stayed a bachelor so he could stay drunk all the time and not worry about money. Well, with the ten grand he got from the army he decided to be a bachelor again, even though he had a wife and three kids to support.
"When my old man left, my mother didn't waste time finding another guy. She tried to claim that they had married secretly but, as young as I was, I knew that she was just shacking up with him. Gordon, that was his name, was no prize because he didn't work and had my mother support him as well as three kids. Women are sure stupid. Throw a good piece of cock into them and they'll do anything you want.
"My oldest sister fell in love with Gordon. She was only fifteen but she got hot pants for a man twenty years older. Gordon wasn't one to throw away some cute ass so he fucked her. I caught them in bed once. I was only ten at the time but I still remember his hairy rear end pumping up and down with my naked sister under him. Gordon gave me a dollar if I promised I wouldn't tell anyone. That was the first buck I ever made on sex. My sister didn't try to steal it from me because she knew I would talk. I made my next dollar by shaking her down. When I told her that I would tell mom what I had seen in bed she turned pale and got the dollar from somewhere. This made up for all those nickels and dimes she took from me. It gave me a real sense of power to bring the bitch to heel.
"Gordon had it made, having women support and fuck him, too, but he got into trouble when he tried to make my thirteen-year-old sister. The creep just couldn't leave well enough alone. When she complained to my mother there was a big fight and Gordon took off. After he was gone my mother cried and blamed my thirteen-year-old sister for chasing him away! 'If it wasn't for you,' she said, 'he'd still be here.'
"Now isn't that a riot? Here was a guy who raped one of my sisters and tried to rape the other and yet my mother still wanted him! Women sure are stupid.
"My oldest sister married a loafer who stayed home most of the time while she worked. Although he wasn't much of a brother-in-law I liked him. He gave me my first drink and taught me to play poker. He always laughed at the suckers who worked for a living. "They're working hard just so they can retire when they're old men,' he said to me. 'When they retire all they want to do is hang around the house, drink, play cards, and watch television. Hell, that's what I'm doing now!'
"I used to wonder why my sister put up with him, but then I stopped caring. Women were made to be used, that's all there was to it. Only the suckers who didn't know this worked for women, when it should be the other way around. My brother-in-law was a bastard but, at least he wasn't a sucker.
"A year ago, when I was sixteen, I decided to go out on my own. When I told my mother I didn't want to finish high school she didn't seem to care. She was more interested in another guy she tried to pawn off as her 'husband' than she was in me. Naturally, she was supporting him. He was five or six years younger and good looking. He could've gotten himself a younger woman but a younger one would expect him to do all the supporting.
"I had no plans when I left home and just drifted around the country. I look odd jobs like dishwashing and waiting on counters. It was a bitch. Work and me sure as hell didn't get along. It wasn't until I hit this diner some place in Kansas that I found a way to take it easy.
"The diner was owned by a widow in her forties. She gave me a job washing dishes and, though she was thirty years older than I was, I could see that she was interested in me. Every time she walked close by she would put her hands on my body. I was still cherry at the age of sixteen, but I'knew that the old pig wanted sex.
"Wanda, the owner, thought it was awful for a boy my age to be living by himself in a rooming house. 'Why not come live with me, Chuck?' she asked. 'I have lots of room since my husband passed away and my children got married.' Wanda, by the way, was a grandmother. I I guess women don't quit at any age. When they see a stud they want, they go after him.
"I went to live in Wanda's house, not sure whether she would really go after my sex. Maybe she just wanted someone to talk to, I tried to say. But I never did spend a night in that house alone in bed. The granny went after me two hours after I dropped my bag in the living room.
" 'You're such a handsome boy,' she told me when she got worked up and started in with the hands again. This time she grabbed my crotch and rubbed it. When I got a hard-on she moaned like a starving person who was touching food again after a long stretch of hunger. 'Chuck, love doesn't have an age,' she said. 'Let's be nice to each other.'
"Suddenly she zipped my fly down and took hold of my stiff flesh. I still remember that wrinkled old hand on it as she played with me. Wanda was on the ugly side, but she was a woman and I was still a virgin and that's why I didn't take my prick out of her hand and run away.
"Once the widow realized I didn't mind her fooling around with me she started to take off her clothes. I remembered how Gordon laid my sister and I was sure I could do the same.
"Wanda had a nice body for an old lady. Her tits hung down and there were blue veins all over her legs but I did get excited looking at her body. I took off my own clothes and Wanda said I was 'beautiful.' Isn't that a shitty thing to call a guy?
"I expected her to lie down some place so that I could get on top of her but she suddenly went down on her knees in front of me. She put her hands on my ass and started sucking. I watched her head bob back and forth and her tits roll when she moved. Wanda had to be prick-happy, because she all but choked herself when she pushed her mouth all the way against my body. I could feel the back of her throat with the head of my hard and her teeth on my meat when she chewed. I was about to shoot off and I warned her. I thought she wouldn't want to swallow my come but she surprised me further by grabbing my ass even tighter. When I came she grunted and sucked away. I just poured my juice into her and she let the stuff go down her throat.
"She kept blowing me until I got soft and limp. She let go and licked my balls and then sucked it wildly. I was still really a virgin, but the frenching made me feel experienced. Hell, a guy has to begin somehow.
"The old lady looked up at me with eyes full of love. 'Chuck, I need a man around the house so much,' she said. 'Be my man ... my young man.'
"It may sound freaky, but I suddenly thought of my mother. She was a woman who just had to have a man around the house, too. Did she blow her boy friends, I wondered? Did she go down on Gordon? The guy she was living with when I left? My father? All at once I hated that old pig on her knees in front of me. Don't ask me why, after she gave me my first taste of sex.
"That night we went to bed together naked. She kept kissing my lips, face, and the rest of my body. She acted as if she were sex crazy. Maybe she was. You always hear about men being crazy for sex but never the other way around.
"The widow licked me everywhere and made me stiff again. I was just about ready to get on top of her when she got on top of me! Wanda shoved herself down on my meat and moved up and down like a man. Maybe she thought I didn't know how to fuck and wanted to show me how it was done.
"Her tits pushed against my chest and I watched her big ass pump. I slipped my hands over her butts and kept pulling them apart while she screwed me. She was old and homely, but she did make me excited. I suppose the first woman in every guy's life is someone special.
"I felt myself ready to come, but I didn't warn her this time and shot into her.
" 'Chuck ... Chuck, my beautiful young man...' she said when I finished.
"Wanda stopped fucking me and lay on top of my body quietly. I was pretty aroused by now and I kept grabbing her smooth ass. She was in her forties and I was only in my teens, but it didn't seem to matter much at that moment.
"The next morning I was pooped out and Wanda cooed into my ear saying that it was time to work. I never did feel like working and I wondered why the shit I should when I had a woman who was so crazy for my body. Gordon didn't work. The guy who was living with my mother at the time didn't work. My brother-in-law didn't work. My father didn't work, either, with that ten grand he took, so I couldn't see why I should be a sucker. 'I'm too tired to get up, Wanda,' I said.
"She kissed my face and patted my limp sex. 'My sweet boy,' she answered. 'I took all your strength yesterday. Rest up. I'll find someone to do the dishes.'
"When she left I let out a happy shout. Now that I had become a man I didn't have to work again. I spent the rest of the day hanging around the house looking at television.
"Wanda came home late; she seemed relieved to find that I was still there. I knew that she was afraid I'd take off. I had her by the cunt hairs now that I realized she couldn't live without me. We had another sex orgy and, the next morning, I complained again about being too tired. She called me a sweet, beautiful boy and went off to work. After awhile she stopped trying to get me to wash dishes or do anything but sex. She hired a local man to fill my place at the diner, so I was now set for a life of comfort. Well, maybe not a life, because that is too long to live with such an old pig. Wanda wanted to own me and keep me as a stud bull but I got itchy feet. I decided to take off when she brought home three hundred dollars from the bank to take care of some bills. After she fell asleep I took the money and grabbed the first bus out of town. You might call that stealing, mister, but I call it payment for services rendered. I made that old widow a lot happier than she made me. Once I got used to sex she bored me. I guess we had what you'd call a generation gap.
"The three hundred didn't last long because I went to imagine motels and hotels that had swimming pools, I lived high on the hog for a while, but then found out I had to find a job ... or find a woman.
"I was at this beach resort where young guys made good tips running errands for guests. They were called beach boys, even though a lot of them were in their thirties. But they were all good looking and they knew how to butter up people, especially older women, for tips. When I tried to run an errand for a woman, the rest of the beach boys grabbed me saying that their job was a closed shop and they didn't need any extra help. The woman I had tried to service objected and insisted I run the errand for her. When I came back she asked me my name and all kinds of personal questions. As soon as she discovered that I was on my own she got very cozy. 'You know, Chuck,' she said, 'you can't be a beach boy so easily. These fellows would go broke in a minute if they allowed anyone off the street to run errands for guests.'
"Shirley was about forty, on the heavy side, and a widow. While she was busy sizing me up I was doing the same to her. As a widow I was sure she was ready for a stud. It's funny how many widows there are in this world as compared to widowers. Women either marry men much older than they are or else work them to death. I pitied the poor sucker who worked himself to death for Shirley, because she was really enjoying his money. She flirted with beach boys all the time and I was sure she went further. That was the reason I had picked her in the first place. I knew a hot lay when I saw one. At the age of sixteen I had become experienced in sex very fast.
"Shirley was leaving the resort the next day, and she asked me to come around to help her with the luggage. I knew that she wanted to take me with her so I hung around the beach all that night because I didn't have a place to sleep. I was at the bottom but, if I worked it right, I'd spend the next night in bed with a woman.
"Just as I suspected, Shirley asked me to get into her car after I put the luggage in the trunk. When we drove away she got cozy again and started asking me questions about my sex life. Some women get a kick out of talking sexy and she used all the four-letter words. I used them right back to show her that I was willing to be her stud. 'I fucked a woman back in
Kansas,' I told her. 'She really went for me because she sucked everything I owned.'
"The widow blushed and her eyes lit up. She was now hooked. I felt like a fisherman reeling in my next piece of food. I made up stories about other women just to get her excited. In every case I claimed that they were in their thirties and forties.
" 'You like older women, don't you, Chuck?' she asked.
"I lied again and told her that I was crazy for them. Shirley patted my leg. 'And I like younger men,' she confessed, i had a couple back at the resort but all they were interested in was money. I'm glad to see you're not that kind.'
"I tried not to smile. This widow was just made to be had. The he-whores back at the resort knew it and took her for what she was worth. Shirley believed that I only wanted older women for sex. She was in for a shock.
"The plump widow lived in a small apartment but in a high-rent building. She told me that she had moved into the place right after her husband died, since she didn't need the larger house. I knew the woman had money. She wasn't rich, but she was far from poor. I wondered just how much I could take her for even as we stripped down for our first session.
"Shirley was younger and better looking than Wanda, but not much. She had big tits with nipples almost the size of saucers. Between her legs was a small patch of light hair, but I couldn't see her slit since it was hidden in a roll of fat. When she hit the sack she put a pillow under her ass and spread her legs just so I could get at her easier.
"I hadn't been laid in weeks, so I was well prepared for another woman. I rammed myself into her hard and fast, and she moaned and groaned all the time I was on her. Her face turned red and she sweated. Those big nipples got stiffer and stiffer until they poked up against my chest like tiny cocks themselves. Shirley started to push up against me when she got more excited. I shot my load.
"'OHHH!' the woman said aloud when I came. "That feels sooo gooood!'
"When she reacted that way I knew I was in like Flynn in more ways than one. If she was anything like my mother, my sister, or Wanda she'd be willing to support a stud.
"Shirley didn't have to work because she had enough money coming to her in checks. This meant that I couldn't have the apartment to myself as I had hoped. The widow took me to restaurants and gave me money under the table to pay the bills. She called me her 'little man' and gushed over me in public. I never saw a woman who blushed so much. She even blushed when there was no reason for it. Maybe she actually had high blood pressure or something like that.
"When we got back to the apartment the first thing she did was strip completely. She loved to walk around the place naked with her big tits shaking and her large ass bouncing up and down. The funny thing was that this didn't excite me if that was her plan. She looked more foolish than sexy. I wasn't with her more than a week before I thought of ways to milk cash out of her.
"The woman was tight with her money and never gave me more than five bucks for spending money. Although I was getting free room and board I still felt cheated. Shirley expected hours of sex every night whether I was up to it or not. On my seventeenth birthday she gave me ten dollars instead of the usual five but drained me dry that night so that I could hardly move the next day. When I couldn't get a hard on I had to satisfy the plump broad with my mouth. Most of the time I sucked her tits and this made her happy. What I didn't like was sucking her private. She was just so fat that her pussy looked ugly instead of exciting. Anyhow, because sex was my business, I licked her and chewed on her when I didn't have anything left for a halfway decent lay.
"I managed to talk Shirley into buying me a used car once I passed my driver's test. It was only a six-hundred-dollar job but she acted as if it were a fortune. But, actually, the real reason she didn't want me to have wheels was that it made me mobile. like all women she wanted to keep her hooks into me.
"After almost two months with the widow I finally had a free night. I guess Shirley knew I had to run around a little on my own or go nuts. I got into my six-hundred-dollar car and rode around for hours.
I was tempted to keep on going but I thought I could milk my pig for money, too. What was the use of a car if you didn't have the cash to buy gas?
"When I came home late after the long drive Shirley wanted to know where I had been and who I had seen. She didn't believe me when I told her that I had only driven around the highways and the byways.
" 'Don't tell me that,' she said. 'I know boys your age. You picked up girls, didn't you?'
"I hadn't even thought about picking up girls. Why should I? Would they make it worth my while? I told my forty-year-old lover that young girls didn't interest me and I put on an act by massaging and licking her tits. She rolled back on the bed like a beached whale and slipped a pillow under her ass. I tried not to sigh aloud. She wanted another lay and I had to jerk on myself awhile before I got up enough energy to face that ugly slit again.
"When I realized that I wasn't going to get more than five bucks at a time out of the bag I waited until she cashed her checks. The rent was due the next day and that's why she kept just over two hundred bucks in a drawer. I slipped it into my pocket when she was asleep and left her for good. I was afraid she'd call the cops since she knew my license plate number but then I remembered that she would have to explain our relationship. The cops could bust her for raping an under-aged boy.
"Oh, it was so good to be free again! I drove all that night and into the next morning without a rest, partially to put as many miles between Shirley and me, and partially just to enjoy being alone at last and moving.
"This time I didn't waste the money and spent a lot of nights sleeping in the car. Yet, eventually, I ran out of money. I sold the car for two hundred less than Shirley had paid for it and lived on that for awhile. When I was close to being broke again I found another pig.
"Her name was Pauline and she was a divorcee for a change. She was in her forties, even though she tried to claim she was thirty-five. Pauline was a barmaid and I met her when I went to her joint for a beer. She knew I was under-aged but, like so many mature women, this made me attractive to her. After I dropped a few hints about being available she took the bait, poor fish, and I reeled her in. She invited me to 'rest' in her apartment which was just over the bar. This 'rest' turned out to be a six-week shack-up job. And, believe me, it was a job because that broad had me work myself half to death for room, meals, and a few bucks every now and then. One night I cleaned out the cash register and kept going.
"I never stay with a woman more than two months. Most of the time I stay around just long enough to get my hands on some loot. Once I shacked up with a woman for less than a week before I found a diamond watch she had stashed away. The guy at the pawn shop knew I had lifted it and that's why he offered me much less than it was worth. Still, I got three hundred and fifty bucks out of the deal. I bought an old car for half of it and rode around until I needed cash. I sold the car and went hunting for another old broad.
"I guess I've had about fifteen or sixteen women since Wanda. All of them were between the ages of thirty-five and fifty. My last one was fifty years old. She was another widow who probably worked her husband to death, because she sure as hell tried to kill me that way. I stayed with her for about three weeks and took off once I got my hands on her hundred-and-thirty-dollar paycheck. As you can see by this room, I haven't exactly been living high on the hog. I'm trying to make the loot last as long as I can before bedding down with another old lady. I was planning to start tomorrow until you came along with your tape recorder. I can live for another three days on what you've paid me for this interview. Once that's gone it's back to the salt mines-or should I say, cunt mines."
Reaction: Chuck, despite the fact that he's making a career of loving mature females, is a misogynist ... a woman hater. He does not seek out a woman until all his money is gone and he is forced to choose between work and prostitution. Since he is basically lazy and self-indulgent the teen-ager picks sex as the lesser of the two evils. Female prostitutes are almost always man-haters who sell their bodies because it is the easiest way to make a living, so the lad has this in common with his counterparts.
Female prostitutes usually find the affection they need with other females, but Chuck shows no sign of homosexuality either hidden or overt. Actually he is simply too involved with himself to reach out toward another human being, male or female. When he has the opportunity to chase girls his own age he does not, because his dislike of the female sex extends to pretty young girls, too. The only thing outside himself that Chuck shows any affection for are cars. With these inanimate objects that do not demand his love the boy feels at ease. Cars also represent freedom and flight from the responsibilities of human relationships, and yet he unwillingly sells them to buy more time in order to avoid seeking out women.
Chuck's low opinion of women dates back to the time his mother allowed her lover to take advantage of her. When his sister also threw herself at this man. Chuck's low regard for the female sex sank even further. This same sister willingly supported a sponge who bragged to the boy that only "suckers" worked, and this convinced him that women had to be taken advantage of before they took advantage of men. Now, after having relations with "fifteen or sixteen" grown women, the seventeen-year-old is a hardened misogynist who will go on hating, fornicating, and stealing his way through life.
3 JOHN age 16
John is one of the most unique studs I've met in my investigation, because he comes from a wealthy family and is not interested in the money or the comforts the women he chases can provide him with. For this reason, he crosses class barriers and has sex relations with women in the lowest income group, although he has nothing against having intercourse with women in his own social and financial level.
The boy is slim, dark-haired, and well spoken. He dresses expensively with the allowance his wealthy parents can afford. John attends, on an irregular basis, a prep school of the "progressive" type that permits students to make as many cuts in classes as they wish in the belief that, in this way, a boy can mature at his own rate. This freedom gives John all the time in the world to pursue mature females. The following interview took place in his room at the school.
"Isn't this joint just too much? Imagine a school that lets teen-aged students cut classes anytime they want? It is supposed to be all very progressive, but everyone knows only fellows who couldn't make it in the regular prep schools are sent here because it's the only place that will have us. It is a sort of rich boy's orphanage. We spoiled little bastards are sent here just to kill time until we're old enough to go off on our own or go on to college. All you need to get into some of the colleges is enough money and that's where I'm probably headed.
"Don't get the idea I'm stupid because I'm not. I have an I.Q. of 160, which is near genius. If I applied myself just a little I could pass the strictest college exams. As for the school work around here, it's a joke. I don't have to attend a single class except the last one and still pass the tests. This school is taking all the credit for my scholastic brilliance and I let them. In turn they let me stay away for weeks at a time. As long as I drop them and my parents a postcard now and then, no one seems to mind. I guess I'm just one of these poor little rich kids you've been hearing about.
"My father is in banking, and he'd like me in his firm. If I stick it out through college I'll have a soft job that will pay $25,000 a year as a start. But banking doesn't interest me and neither does the money. Hell, with trust funds and stocks I've already got in my name I don't have to sweat for a single dollar for as long as I live, so why should I work? Would you in my case? Would anyone?
"Offhand I can't think of a thing I want bad enough to struggle for. If I had any kind of interest in politics, for example, I could probably go on to the Senate. I suppose that sounds awfully paranoid, but it happens to be a fact. I feel like King Midas; everything I touch turns to gold. What I mean to say is that I never meet resistance in any path I choose to take. This used to be true even in my sex life ... until lately.
"I suppose you don't think that a kid of sixteen has any kind of sex life to talk about. Yes, I suppose most boys my age find their chief outlet through masturbation, but that was something I only indulged in for a year or so as a child. When I got bored with shooting my wad alone I looked around for a more exciting experience.
"Most boys go from masturbation to fucking one another in the ass, but that was one stage I skipped entirely. I went into heterosexuality right away and with the usual lack of trouble.
"At the age of thirteen I decided to become a man in the sexual sense of screwing our maid. She was an attractive girl in her twenties my mother found in Germany during one of her 'cultural' trips. Maids in the United States are usually imports from other countries, because Americans tend to look down on domestics service. In Europe, however, there are tens of thousands of girls who want to come to America to work. World War II knocked off so many men that these girls face a bleak, loveless, future. So they want to come to America where World War II losses were not really felt by comparison.
"Germany lost literally millions of young men and boys, so German girls became a drug on the marriage market. My mother met Hilda in a hotel she was staying at and talked the girl into coming to work for her in America. Hilda jumped at the chance.
"The German girl first came into the house when I was eleven. She awed me at first because she was so blonde and beautiful. At that tender age I was in possession of a strong sexual urge but I did not possess enough will to implement it. Hilda became my first real crush.
"The blonde girl dated a few American boys but none wanted to go so far as to marry her, even though, I was sure, she 'put out' as they say around the campus. 'American men are such boys!' she once complained in her broken English to my mother, who quickly agreed. like so many American women, she felt that men were just boys grown tall. From my experience I can say that women never get out of girlhood, either.
"Hilda improved her English and her figure but she still didn't get some rich American to the altar. Oh, the Mexican gardener wanted to marry her and the fellow who ran a gas station down the road was willing enough to give his prick as well as his bank account, but neither was large enough to win Hilda's cool, calculating German hand.
"The maid seemed happy in the house-mansion, I should say, because the work was light and she had her own room complete with television, air conditioning, and all the goodies of our decadent American civilization. Hilda once took me to her room when I was eleven just for a chat but, at the age of thirteen, I mounted the stairs to her room with quite another mission in mind that I hoped would not be impossible.
"I picked a time when my parents were out of the house and Hilda was in her off hours. My lecherous young heart pounded when I knocked at the door. Hilda opened it and was surprised to see me standing there. What she didn't see was my thirteen-year-old prick in a state of erection. 'John,' she said, 'is anything wrong?'
" 'No,' I said in my usual direct manner, 'I just want to talk to you.'
"'Why, how sweet!' she cooed. 'Come right in.'
"I walked into the room, completely convinced that I would get into the blonde girl minutes later. Well, she wasn't a girl; twenty-five, a sizeable chunk of female for any man, let alone thirteen-year-old boy, to take on.
"Hilda was wearing a yellow, terry cloth robe and, from the fact that her legs and feet were bare, I deduced she was stark naked underneath the garment. For all I knew she had been indulging in a nude, masturbatory fantasy when I knocked. I hoped that it was true, because it would have put her in the right, erotic mood.
"Let me say from the start that I hardly 'seduced' the maid because she was so damned willing to cooperate. I opened the conversation by pretending I needed some sexual information for my biology class. Hilda responded fast enough and soon we were talking about sex in general. Wasn't I the clever one, though?
"I went into Phase Two by placing one of my hands on one of her bare thighs. Hilda all but begged for that move because she was sitting next to me on the bed with her legs folded and exposed almost to her hips. 'Can I see all of you, Hilda, please?' I asked with boyish directness.
" 'Why, Johnny,' she giggled. 'You are a naughty!'
"Be that as it may, the blonde didn't push my hand away or cover her legs. Virgin child that I was, I still knew a cunt in heat when I smelled one. I moved my hand up along her white, soft, leg, parting the yellow terry cloth robe all the time until I reached another patch of yellow ... her blonde snatch!
"Hilda unfolded her legs and spread them so that I could get a better view. She sure as hell was filling in some blank spots in my knowledge of anatomy. Miss Sims, my biology teacher, should have seen me then! I placed my hand on her cunt and slipped one of my fingers inside. Hilda acted as if I had just touched her with a live wire and moaned. 'Johnny, lock the door,' she told me.
"Even in this sexual moment the maid remained practical. I pulled my ringer out of her slit and locked the door. When I turned she was standing up with her robe off. As I had suspected she was completely naked under the garment.
"The blonde stood there proudly, knowing that she had a handsome body. Her breasts were moderate-sized and very firm, capped by pale, pink nipples. I gaped at her and felt my cock tremble against my shorts. I freed this raging twig of flesh by opening my fly, pulling down my pants and exposing myself. Hilda laughed. 'My, what a little man you are!' she said.
"The word 'little' bugged me. What did she expect from a kid of thirteen, a twelve-inch dong? But there is a touch of the emasculator in every female, so I tried not to let her remark bother me. I stripped off the rest of my clothes and pressed my naked body against her. I kissed her breasts and sucked on each nipple. I felt them react under my mouthing, and the blonde whispered German words into my ear. I've learned German since but, for the life of me, I can't remember what she said. I trust she was being kind.
"Hilda fell backward onto the bed, taking me with her. I suddenly found myself in the classic fornicating position, because my little cock thrust right into her slit as soon as I lay on top of her. Without further ado I lifted my ass and rammed down. The soft moistness of her cunt engulfed my prick, and I fucked as if I had been doing it for years instead of being on my maiden voyage into sex, so to speak.
"The blonde wrapped her arms and legs around me and I felt awfully small. Her smooth body was like a cloud covering me entirely. She kept whispering in German as I screwed and, when I shot my first load of semen, she pressed her arms and legs against me hard. 'Nice ... good, Johnny,' she sighed.
"My education into matters erotic was only beginning. When I rolled over on my back feeling very pleased with myself Hilda leaned her blonde head down between my legs and took me orally. Her hard breasts brushed against my body as she fellated, and I studied her lush buttocks that rose above my face. Then I found myself looking up into the girl's slitted sexual opening. She was getting into the world-renowned 69 position. She lowered her private against my face gently and, I must confess, I didn't know what she wanted me to do. Even near-geniuses can't be perfect. The maid, however, brought her mouth away from my swelling prick long enough to issue an order. 'Suck me, Johnny!' she said briskly.
"Her hairy cleft lay against my lips and I opened my mouth. Once I had gotten over the shock of having a cunt thrown in my face I sucked away with sophisticated abandon. I discovered a small bud of flesh just inside her opening that looked like a tiny bud. When I ran my tongue over it Hilda became especially excited. I had found her clitoris; that push button to feminine awakening. I took the hot little object in my mouth and sucked much to the maid's delight. She sucked on my larger push button until I spewed semen. Hilda swallowed and moaned.
"I left the room a much more experienced student. At school, boys were always talking about sex as if it were some titanic mountain that had to be climbed on the always rough road to manhood. I found it a very soft and gentle hill that I crossed with no trouble at all. Sex came to me as excellent marks in school did ... effortlessly.
"Hilda married a grocer shortly after our affair, and I still feel that I had something to do with it. You see, the maid became very sad and guilty after our sexual session in her room and kept begging me not to tell my parents. 'It was a bad thing that I did, Johnny,' she told me. 'A grown woman should not have sex with little boys.'
"I tried to convince her that I wasn't as little as my tool made me seem and I hoped to continue our relationship but she would have nothing to do with me. 'I must be going mad,' she said.
"Hilda, I assumed, sought a cure for her madness in marriage. She picked a big, burly guy who would never be rich and I'm sure both are very happy today. I wonder if Hilda thinks about me as much as I think about her. Even today the sight of a yellow terry cloth turns me on, because that was what she wore that day. Is this some kind of fetish, I wonder? Some guys are hot for leather straps and silky panties, but I'm queer for yellow terry cloth robes. Well, I could be queer for worse things, right?
"With Hilda gone I had to look around for someone else to have sex with. My beady eyes fell upon a girl in my class named Jane. She had cute, budding boobies and a saucy little ass that filled me with erotic daydreams. I set about making these dreams real.
"I invited the girl into my house, and I led her upstairs to a room that was only visited once a month for dusting. It was bare except for an old couch which was enough furniture for what I had in mind. Although the girl was exactly my age, she seemed very infantile to me. My teachers tell me that kids my own age all seem much younger because of my I.Q. This may be so because I thought of Jane as a baby when she objected to me getting 'fresh' with her, as she put it. All I did was place my hand on her tits and she darted out of the room. Well, it was no great loss. Compared to Hilda she was a plastic doll.
"As I grew older I began to make it with girls my age, but they all bored me. At sixteen I was already jaded. All I did was have to telephone a girl and she would jump into my bed. Being an heir to a fortune had something to do with it. My parents advised me to beware of fortune hunters, and I assured them that I was smart enough to know if a girl liked me for myself.
"Yet, even when a girl did like me for myself I could not respond in kind. I've laid some wonderful teen-aged girls and yet sex became mechanical to me.
I needed some excitement in my life and tried pot. This left me cold, because it put me into a mellow mood. Pot was fine for dopes who had no imagination, but I needed stimulation. I tried pep pills for awhile but gave them up when I realized I was on the road to addiction. I didn't wany my mind controlled by outside forces; I wanted to control myself.
"About six months ago I cut classes for a day just so I could walk around town. In front of me was a woman who looked like Hilda from the back so I ran up to her only to find a middle-aged housewife on her way home from the grocery store. She was a pleasant-looking woman with a good shape and I offered to carry her bags. She smiled and handed them over. Since I wasn't wearing my school blazer she took me for a town kid trying to rustle up pocket change by doing small errands. I told her I lived in the poorer section of town and was a high-school dropout. It was a kick pretending to be someone else. Creating fiction did more for me than pot, pep pills, and even young girls. As we walked to her house I imagined myself as a psychopathic rapist who has a thing for older women. I began to get an erection which made walking difficult. And then I thought: could I really fuck this respectable matron? It was sure a much greater challenge than screwing these teenyboppers who all but threw themselves at me.
"When we got to her kitchen I listened hard for the sounds of anyone else in the house. The idea that there might be someone around to crash in on me during a sexual advance was stimulating. I placed the bags of groceries on the kitchen table and, for a fleeting moment, considered rape. It would be exciting to throw the woman to the floor and then attack her but it would be much more of a challenge to get the woman to cooperate. Besides, I didn't have a violent nature. Rape was for dumb bastards who couldn't get a woman any other way, too.
The woman opened her handbag and started looking for coins. 'I'd like to give you something for your help,' she said.
" 'You don't have to give me money,' I answered.
"She looked up, surprised. I stepped closer to her. 'You're very attractive,' I said staring directly into her eyes so that my meaning was very, very clear.
"At first she seemed terrified that I was going to take her by force but then a smile trembled on the corners of her mouth. 'Now ... really!' she exclaimed. 'You're just a boy.'
" 'Are you afraid of me?'
" 'No ... of course not,' she answered doing her best to hide her fears. 'But you can't go around picking up strange women, women old enough to be your mother!'
" 'Do you have boys my age?'
" 'No, but I have a daughter at college and another who has just been married. She's going to have a baby which will make me a grandmother, so you can see that I'm hardly your type.'
" 'You're just my type,' I informed her. I could see that the sex talk was arousing her, even though she was trying to discourage my advances. Her neck was red and there was that familiar sex gleam in her eyes. I was only sixteen, but I knew when a woman was in the mood or not and this one was just about ready.
"Her husband was at work, I discovered through a further exchange of conversation, which meant that she was all alone in the house. I tried to picture her husband as a man past his prime, more interested in work than play, which made him a very dull old boy. I prided myself on my ability to gauge the measure of a person at a glance, and I figured the housewife for a bored woman itching for excitement, yet not daring to reach out for it. I now presented her with an opportunity to indulge her pent-up emotions.
" 'Let's do it,' I said with a smile. 'What have we got to lose?'
"She hesitated for a moment and put up some token resistance. I knew that I had her because of that pause. A woman who was not interested in me would've made it known right away. I placed my hands over her waist and kissed her on the mouth. She responded. I opened my mouth and she responded again. Our tongues slithered wetly and I could feel her repressed, middle-aged heart pound against my chest. She probably hadn't been french-kissed in decades. I opened my fly and let my hard prick leap free. The woman gasped when I placed her hand against the throbbing piece of sexual meat.
" 'We shouldn't...' she said. 'We really shouldn't....
" 'We shouldn't but we will,' I said.
"I got her to tell me where the bedroom was and she told me fast enough. We started stripping as soon as we got there. She had a good figure in spite of her years with shapely breasts and a narrow waist. After all the mature women I've had it is a wonder to me why more teen-aged studs aren't making them. Stand a naked woman next to a naked teen-aged girl and you'll find that there isn't much, if any, difference. A cunt is a cunt is a cunt, to paraphrase Gertrude Stein.
"When I mounted the woman and shoved myself into her, she clutched at my body wildly as if she had been sex hungry for too long. My theory about her husband being neglectful was further strengthened by her reaction to my first fucking motions. I rammed into her fast and furious. For a woman of her years she had a surprisingly tight pussy. I was certain that years of neglect had contracted her doorway of love to a near-virginal state.
"I shot my load and she pushed up against me as if trying to drain me of every teen-age drop I had. For someone who didn't want sex at first, she sure as hell had changed her mind in a hurry.
"As soon as the sex act was completed I got off the bed and started dressing. I had accomplished what I had set out to do so there was no reason for me to hang around. The woman, however, had other ideas.
'My husband won't be home for hours,' she said clutching my arm.
"I said something about coming back some other day. She looked sadly after me when I left, probably aware that I would never see her again.
"From then on I prowled around other mature women when the fellows at school went after teen-aged girls. I felt unique and daring. All over the world teen-aged studs were on the make for girls their own age but I Just had to be different. For once in a long time sex was exciting to me again as it hadn't been since Hilda showed me how to fuck.
"That middle-aged housewife gave me too much confidence because I had the idea that every mature female could be had with enough skill from me. I discovered the error of my ways when I tried to make my next one. Posing as a magazine salesman I got into this very modest house and almost immediately started to feel up the forty-year-old cutie who owned the place. She screamed and I took off like a jackrabbit. I suppose I'm guilty of some kind of sex charge, but the police have not come after me ... so far. One of these days they just might come through that door charging me with attempted rape. Well, without danger life can be very dull.
"I got my best kicks screwing middle-aged women in the slum sections of towns around this school. Just crossing age lines was not enough for me ... I wanted to cross class lines, too. I know that makes me sound like a snob, but, let's face it, America is still divided up into many different classes and social groups.
"Last week I dressed in my oldest clothes and went from door to door in a poor section of town pretending to be a waif in need of a meal. I'm just thin enough to pull the act off. Remembering that woman who almost had the cops after me, I never pushed too hard or fast. I was skillful enough to know if a woman was receptive or not. When a gray-haired woman in her late forties let me into her kitchen for a bowl of soup I could feel her interest as if it were a living organism.
"Mrs. Sanderson was a widow with grown and married children; she managed to get through life by working in a factory. She was in no way attractive and I doubted she had ever been so in her youth, and yet it was her very grossness that appealed to my rather bizarre nature. I could have pretty girls by simply snapping my fingers but wouldn't it be a test of my skill to fuck a woman who didn't expect such a display of affection from me or, for that matter, any male? And, wouldn't my act of love be an act of mercy to a poor soul who had probably given up hope of ever finding passion again?
"When Mrs. Sanderson offered me another bowl of soup, leaning over just to enjoy some fleeting closeness, I placed my arms around her and kissed her full on the mouth. 'I want you,' I said simply.
"The gray-haired woman gave a surprised cry. It is strange how many still-young women are shocked by even the mildest sexual overture from a stranger. Once the shock passed for Mrs. Sanderson, she returned my embrace, still not sure just how far I planned to go. I showed her what I had in mind when I opened her dress and undid her bra. When her breasts rolled free I sucked on her nipples and licked the meaty globes.
"The years dropped away from the woman quickly as she recalled how good life could be with sex. We both took off our clothes hurriedly and headed for a beat-up couch. Her body had about thirty too many pounds on it and her flesh sagged here and there but there was still enough animal lust about her to arouse my cock.
"I thrust into her fleshy body and she kept issuing strangled cries while I pounded away. She spread her legs far apart by looping one of them over the back of the couch and stretching the other so that her heel touched the floor. The woman was starved for prick, and her wide-open legs were like a wide open mouth begging for food.
"Mrs. Sanderson, who fell for my story about being a begger, wanted to keep me. She said I didn't have to do anything but make love and she would provide me with all the comforts I required. I stayed on with the woman for three days and nights, fucking life and youth into her aging pussy and her unattractive body, and it was pathetic how she clung to me. I stayed on just to see how she would change with a big dose of sex in her life, and she seemed to get younger by the hour. It was, altogether, an interesting experiment.
"I can't say just how many women I've fucked in the past six months. Once, just as a test to myself, I screwed three different women within twenty-four hours. One offered to take me on a vacation with her, and I was tempted to leave, but I thought that even this very liberal and progressive school would frown on a protracted absence of three months. Another was a cleaning woman pushing fifty and the third was a suburban housewife who had been out hunting young cock behind her husband's back. After those three women I had to take a week off just to recharge my batteries.
"I don't expect to make a career of this, but I don't have anything better to do. It is getting to be a drag, but I liven things up by putting on different acts. Once I posed as a moron on the loose, and I still managed to get into the drawers of a mature woman. If it wasn't for the rejections I keep getting as steadily as I get responses, I would've given this fucking business up long ago. Fucking business, get it? I'll admit it isn't much of a joke but what can you expect from a spoiled rich kid?"
Reaction: When John describes himself as "a spoiled rich kid" he is putting his finger on the core of his problem. All his life things came too easily to him. With his I.Q. of 160, school work offered no challenge, so he became bored with it and looked for something to engage his interests elsewhere.
Sex also came too easily to the boy when he had relations with the first female he felt strongly for. Since he was far too bright to get hooked on drugs, he gave them up after first experimenting with them.
John looks upon the women he had relations with as "experiments," too. Although he's intelligent he is emotionally very shallow and is unable to sustain a lasting affair with older women or girls of his own age. Only by pretending to be other people such as beggars and morons can he keep his interests alive.
The teen-ager will not continue his latest "experiment" for long for, at the time of the interview, he was already displaying signs of growing boredom. Once John finds another toy to play with he'll give up having sex relations with older women to concentrate on his latest venture. I can only hope that, whatever venture it will be, the boy will find enough of a challenge to excite his mental capacity.
4 FRANK age 15
Frank is a handsome young black boy from an urban ghetto who sells his body on a strictly professional basis to white women. He is very dark with a broad chest and a "natural" hair style. I interviewed him at the apartment of his latest woman, a thirty-seven-year-old spinster who works in the publicity department of a major television studio. During the taping she busied herself in the kitchen making dinner for the three of us.
"Ellen is a good cook, but she keeps trying to make me soul food. I know that stuff is 'in' today, especially with white liberals, but I can't stand it. Soul food is nothing but a lot of inexpensive and filling stuff like collard greens that black people had to eat since they couldn't afford good meals. Me, I like steak, peas, mashed patatoes, and all that real stuff.
Don't give me no soul food ... give me food for the body and my soul will take care of itself.
"I don't think people have souls anyhow. When we die there is nothing. It will be like all those centuries before we were born. The poor people like to think that there is a heaven because life is hell for them. I say, make your heaven here on earth. That's what I'm doing. This place may not seem like a heaven to you but it is to me, a kid from the ghetto.
"Right now everyone is saying that black is beautiful. The studs that say it the most always try to sleep with white chicks, though. Why do so many of these militants talk black but sleep white? I used to go for that militant crap and I've been in a lot of picket lines for one thing or another but nothing really changes. A stud had to make his own way through this world.
"I got a lousy start just by being born black, but I wasn't going to spend the rest of my life pissing and moaning about it like some people I know. They just want to use that as an excuse not to try to get anywhere.
"My oldest brother got some place by being a pimp. He had a stable of black chicks he used to peddle to white men. He told me that the whites paid more and brought his girls downtown instead of keeping them in the ghetto to turn five-dollar tricks. The whites sometimes paid as much as a hundred dollars to spend a night with a black girl. I learned my lesson early ... if you want money sell to whitey.
"I wanted to become a pimp like my brother and he told me he'd show me the ropes once I got old enough. I learned a whole lot hanging around him and girls. When I was twelve, a whore gave me a blow job because she said I was a cute boy. I used to run errands for the hookers and I became kind of a pet to them. They used to sit around with most of their clothes off when I came into their rooms so I got to know about women in a hurry. One day, when I was thirteen, two of the girls stripped me down and had me do them. They did it as a joke but it was no joke to me. They could blow me anytime they wanted for all I cared.
"I also got to know a lot about white men by listening to the whores talk about their tricks. If those Johns could hear them they would never go to them again. The girls talked about the ones who paid them to shit on their bodies! Can you imagine that? Nothing personal but white men are sure sick. I don't mind sex but that's nothing but insanity. I also heard that some white men paid to be whipped! I saw the whips the girls used and I had to believe them. I'd be willing to whip honkies for free.
"Running errands for whores and trying to be a militant was tearing me apart. The militants talked about how bad the whites treated blacks and the whores talked about how white men used them for all kinds of weird stuff. If I was militant enough I would've quit messing with whores because they served whites. But, there was no money and no future in yelling 'Black Power' so I quit being a militant.
"By the time I was fourteen I knew all there was to know about sex. I had fucked every girl in my brother's stable, and they did it to me for nothing. All I had to do was let one of them know I wanted some sex and I'd get in almost on the spot. I can't even begin to count the times I had myself sucked. Since I had all the sex I wanted from the older girls I didn't bother with ones my own age. For one thing the young chicks expected me to spend money on them. I was so used to getting money from women that it was hard for me to let go of a dime in the other direction.
"I was happy with the whores, but, suddenly, my world blew apart. My brother got in some jam with another uptown pimp, and he was found in an alley with his throat cut. The girls my brother used to sell switched over to other pimps and I was alone.
"I knew the dude who slashed my brother, and I went to the police. The dude was picked up and released because there was no real evidence to hold him. Now I was in big trouble. If I didn't get out of town I'd wind up in an alley with my throat slashed, too. That's how come I left the ghetto. I didn't know it at the time, but it was the best thing to ever happen to me. On my own I had to sink or swim.
"My experience with whores told me that whites might hate to work and live with blacks, but they sure want to sleep with us. I'm not just talking about white men and black women. When I was uptown I saw a lot of the prettiest, blondest chicks on the arms of the darkest spades. A lot of white chicks are crazy for black men, and I thought that I could find one to support me. I was only fifteen but I was man enough between my legs.
"I got a job loading and unloading trucks. The pay wasn't much, but it bought me a room and meals. All of the loaders were blacks trying to support families, and I couldn't see how they could do it. Here were these spades in their thirties and forties doing a job fit for teen-aged boys. I made up my mind that I wasn't going to be like them at the same age.
"A white woman worked in the office of this company. She was about forty and she wasn't married. Veronica had one leg shorter than the other, which meant she had to wear a specially built shoe to keep her on even keel. She never smiled and snapped orders all the time. The studs I worked with told me that all she needed was a good fuck to sweeten her up, but none of them were willing to throw cock into her. 'You're a big, husky boy,' they told me. 'Why don't you make a woman out of her?'
"They thought that they were only joking because I was just a kid. None of them knew that I had been having women since I was twelve. I was a hell of a lot more experienced than most of them were.
"Veronica was nothing to look at, but she was better than busting my balls on the loading platform every day. One icy day last winter I made up my mind to go after Veronica. Life had to be more than working and freezing.
"The white woman seemed surprised that I was so friendly to her, because she knew that none of the spades liked her. For that matter, even her own kind avoided her when they could. I got the woman to such a state that she was open to any suggestion. When she had some papers to take home I offered to carry them even though it was out of my way. Veronica seemed more pleased to have company on the subway ride to her place than in having a few pounds of paper taken out of her hands.
"Because the woman had no one to support but herself she could afford the nice apartment she lived in. It was the first time I was ever in an all-white, middle-class neighborhood. The few blacks I saw didn't live there; they were domestics or handymen.
"Veronica made both of us some hot chocolate, and I could see she was using every excuse in the world to keep me there. I wondered if she ever had a male in the place before me. When she stomped along the floors on the awful shoe I tried not to look. I knew that the woman was self-conscious about her handicap. I felt sorry for her. She had a good job and a good place to live, but she was sadder than most of the poorest ghetto blacks I've met, with tons of kids and a dump to live in. The woman had no love in her life. I could see the reason why when she walked.
"A storm broke loose outside, and I used this as an excuse to stay in her apartment for a night. All I needed was a night and the rest of it was easy. 'I hate to take that subway back to my room on a night like this,' I told her, sounding very innocent.
"She fell for my line right away. 'You can stay here if you want to, Frank,' she offered.
"When I accepted, her whole face lit up. It was the first time I ever saw her smile. Veronica only had one bed but she put sheets and pillows on the living room couch. I took a shower and came out with my clothes over my arm and a towel wrapped around my waist. Her eyes popped out when she saw me. 'Oh, Frank...' she whispered and touched my bare chest with the tips of her fingers.
"I put my clothes over a chair and ran my hands up along her arms. 'I like being with you,' I told her.
"She trembled. I think this was the first time anyone had ever been this affectionate with her. She was forty and I was only fifteen, but she was the kid and I was the adult when it came to sex. 'I like you a whole lot,' I added, and then pressed my lips against hers.
"Veronica drew in her breath sharply and went stiff for a minute, but she thawed out soon enough. She slipped her hands over my bare back. I moved my body slightly so that the towel dropped. When I pressed against her in the nude with my cock hard, the white woman stiffened again and drew back. 'Frank,' she said in a tense voice, 'I never ... I mean ... with men...'
"My God she was a virgin at her age! I had hoped that she had gotten some sex from some guy in some place, but her cunt had never been cracked once! As someone who was brought up on sex I couldn't see how she managed to live. Well, she didn't really live; she only existed.
"I could see that all the advances were up to me because she was just too damned timid and uptight to cooperate. I unzipped her dress and pulled it off of her. I took off her slip and then her bra. She had small tits with dark nipples that stuck out to hard points. I knelt on the floor and pulled down her panties. I stared right into that hairy slit no man had looked at for forty years. I ran my tongue over it and Veronica jumped as if my tongue was a flame. At that very moment, I thought of the women who sucked me off when I was twelve. There had to be a first time for everyone, but this woman had waited just too fucking long! Still, better late than never, as the saying goes.
"When I stood up, I got a better look at Veronica's body. She had a nice shape, the kind I had seen on so many black whores that made as much as a hundred dollars a night for their services. The only thing that turned me off was her short leg. Veronica stood on her longer leg while keeping the smaller one lifted even as I undressed her. When she finally pressed her weight down on the handicapped leg and walked a couple of steps I could see just how crippled she was. I swept her up in my arms. She was on the slight side so I could handle her easily. After working on the platform loading and unloading trucks I had become very strong. She put her arms around me as I carried her into the bedroom. On the floor was the shoes she had taken off when I was in the shower; the 'normal' one and that ugly built-up kind that belonged in a horror movie.
"When I placed her on the bed she kissed me lightly on a cheek. 'Frank,' she said, 'just don't hurt me.'
"So many white people have the idea that blacks are sexier and less inhibited than they are. She just didn't know about the white chicks that all but crawled after the spade studs. I was sure she even thought that I, as a 'colored boy,' had a bigger tool than white studs my age. Well, I have a nice-sized thing, but it ain't no bigger than average.
"Veronica wanted sex, but was scared of it. I suppose me being black didn't help. I turned off the light so that she couldn't see my color and, for that matter, I couldn't see hers. We were going to be colorless together in the dark.
"I didn't want to throw myself into her right away, so I sucked her tits first. I ran my tongue over her stiff nipples and chewed on them just enough to excite her without causing pain. In the dark my own excitement grew, because she was just another lay to me now instead of a crippled-up old white woman.
"Her body felt nice and smooth under my hands and mouth. She was lean without being skinny which thrilled me because I just didn't dig fat chicks. If I didn't know it I'd say she was more my age than a forty-year-old woman.
"I licked her belly and sucked a hickey on it. Veronica kept swallowing hard and moving nervously. When I got to her cunt she sat up and down a couple of times in her excitement. I lapped inside with my tongue and then sucked hard on her pussy. 'Such a thing ... it feels so ... so funny...' she said, more to herself than to me.
"The woman was about as aroused as she would ever be so I got on top of her body. With one hand I guided the head of my stiffness into her slit. She gave me another one of her nervous jumps but I inched into her slowly, remembering that this was her first time and that she didn't want to get hurt.
"For a virgin her cunt was pretty loose. I shoved the entire length of myself into her and banged away. Veronica moved under me with passion instead of nervousness. The bed squealed as I threw my meat into her. She dug her fingers into my back and hurt me a lot more than I was hurting her. Even when I pumped like a maniac she still wanted me to go faster. I just couldn't believe that this was her first screw.
"I held back my load and thought I should shoot my come on the outside of her body. After all, I didn't want to be the father of a half-white bastard. Then I figured, what the hell, she was probably too old to have babies anyhow and I let loose.
"'Wonderful!' she said out loud. 'Oh, that's so great!'
"I kept on even when I came to get in all the strokes I could before my meat got soft. Veronica held on to me when I was finished and she kissed me full on the mouth. When I slipped off her body at last I cupped my hand over her pussy. I didn't feel any blood that was supposed to come from a virgin, is this really your first time?' I asked.
" 'First time with someone real,' she answered. "This has been my man for years.'
"Veronica slipped her hand under her pillow and picked up a battery-operated vibrator. It was made of smooth plastic and was about seven inches long. I had seen them before. Women used them for satisfaction by shoving them inside their cunts and screwing themselves with the vibrations once they pushed the button. I thought of the old white woman lying on the bed alone with the thing between her legs getting her kicks in the only way she could. She had busted her cherry with this vibrator, or something like it, and now, finally, she knew what it was like to have a real prick inside her flesh.
" "This thing is bigger than what I got,' I told her. it is also harder and it will never get soft. Even us boys can keep it up for just so long.'
"Veronica laughed and hugged me. "Throw that damned thing away,' she said, i don't need it anymore.'
"I tossed the jerk-off tool to one side, but I knew she would use it again some lonely night, because I didn't plan to live with her until she died. I just wanted to last out the winter in comfort, without getting a hernia on that icy loading platform.
"Veronica didn't mind my sponging off of her and not working. When she went to the job she told the employer that I had gone South suddenly when a better offer turned up. I was sure the spades that worked the loading platform knew that I was now bedded down with Veronica when they put two and two together. First, I stopped working and, second, she became a changed woman. She smiled all the time now and didn't act cranky to anyone. Only love can make a woman be like that.
"I got Veronica to buy me new clothes and to give me spending money. She was an easy touch and gave in to every request. I was all set to spend a warm, happy winter when the landlord got nasty. He wanted to know what a nigger was doing with a white woman. Oh, he came right out and said it just like that and worse when he dropped by to see Veronica with the lease in his hands. According to the lease she was the only one who was supposed to occupy the apartment. It was all right to have a guest now and then but I was becoming a tenant ... a nonpaying one.
"Veronica was given the choice of getting rid of me or moving. Since it was easier for her to find another apartment than another lover she moved.
"We had a tough time finding a place because, to avoid the problem of being kicked out of a place again, Veronica wanted to sign me in the lease with her. If I were older she could say we were married but, as it was, the landlords knew that we were an odd couple ... a forty-year-old white woman and her fifteen-year-old lover.
"We finally did find a place that wasn't too fussy and settled down. I hated to tell Veronica that I was only planning to stay with her until the snows melted, so I didn't.
"When we walked around the street together people turned and stared. Interracial couples were bad enough to white people, but we were so widely apart in age, too. Veronica didn't mind, because she was catching up on all those years she had done without love and she sure as hell kept me drained dry.
"I left Veronica when I met a younger, prettier, and richer white woman. She was one of Veronica's few friends, and she sized up our situation at first glance. The woman had been married once, years ago, and was now in the mood for stud service. She gave me broad hints that she wouldn't mind having me in her bed, so I let myself be 'stolen' away.
Barbara was more experienced at sex, although she didn't have studs lined up outside her door every day. She dug blow jobs; getting them and giving them. Barbara was hung up on my dark skin and she liked to rest in bed with me naked, just running her eyes all over me. She called me her 'Black Knight' which is some kind of pun, I suppose.
"It cost Barbara a friend to have me: Veronica. The crippled white woman cursed her, rather than me, for leaving her bed and board. 'Women liked to think of men as toys they can pick up and toss away any time they wanted. They couldn't stand the truth, which is that men do the picking and the discarding of women.
"Veronica came to Barbara's apartment and they had a big screaming match. I just lay in bed listening to two grown white women fight over me. I wished that those spades I used to hang around with could see me now. They always kidded me about being so young and, supposedly, so inexperienced. I wondered how many of them had two white women fight over their cocks.
"Barbara was an executive secretary and she made two hundred a week. She wasn't as easy to get money out of as Veronica had been, but she was a beautiful lay. I used to wake up in the middle of the night and feel her mouth on me sucking her brains out. When I was in the mood I'd 69 with her and we'd suck until dawn.
"The secretary owned the house she lived in, out in the suburbs, so she didn't have to worry about being bounced by a landlord, but her neighbors didn't like the idea of a black boy living with a white woman. Barbara told them that I was a live-in handyman and servant, but they didn't believe her. She finally had to tell me that it was best I leave. She still wanted me as a lover, so she found me a room in a hotel. I began to feel like those whores I used to run errands for, because she always left some money on the dresser before she left. Well, I was really a whore, so I couldn't complain.
"There was another spade stud on the same floor who had white women come to him. His name was Andy, a good-looking cat in his twenties. He told me that he wished he had started fucking for a living at fifteen instead of waiting until he was almost twenty-five. Andy had a new car and a closet full of clothes that he got for screwing white women who were neglected by their husbands. He always laughed at those poor bastards who were working themselves to early graves just so that he could live well.
"It was Andy who introduced me to my latest woman. Ellen was one of the chicks who went to him for stud service. She was looking for a man who would live with her at an apartment house where no one asked questions or cared what the other did for kicks. Andy liked the idea of being the free-wheeling cat that he was because he had had too many bad scenes with women he had shacked up with on a steady basis. He told Ellen about me and introduced us.
"Since Andy was being so nice to me I introduced him to Barbara, so a fair exchange was made with everyone coming out ahead. We celebrated with a champagne and steak dinner and the four of us really shook up the other diners at the restaurant we went to, not to mention the black help. The soul sisters gave us mean stares because they hated to see their own messing with lay from across the street. The brothers were different. They kept giving us little smiles and winks to tell us that they were glad to see we were bugging the white diners by showing off their women.
"I've been with Ellen for a month now, and she knows that she has no brand on me. Veronica was too possessive, but Ellen isn't like that. That's why I can talk so freely to you about the other women I've had and about us. If some new woman comes along and offers me a better life I'll grab it and Barbara will understand. Shit, I'm a whore and not a husband, so I can peddle my ass anywhere I please.
"You know a couple of black women offered to take me on as a stud, but I turned them down. They have just as much money as the white women I've had, but, somehow, I enjoy being in a white world for a change. I've spent almost all my life in a black one and I don't want to return. Man, I've made it. I'm out of the ghetto. As long as I can keep my flesh hard I'll stay out."
Reaction: Frank was introduced to sex by older women at a very early age, and this is the basis of his deep-seated psychological need for them. He appears to have no interest at all for girls his own age, and it isn't just because they would expect him to underwrite any romance. Frank was brought up to believe that his future both financial and romantic was with women much older than himself.
The boy's interest in white females has hidden racial undertones. There is a great deal of hate mixed with his displays of affection toward them. He started hating whites when he heard the tales the black prostitutes told him about their sexual demands. As a young, black male he thought that his manhood was affronted because he could not defend his own kind against the assaults of another race. Frank is now finding that manhood by avenging those black women he loved, in having the same kind of sexual relationships with white females.
Frank blames the whites for his brother's death although he does not admit it even to himself. His brother, whom he hero-worshipped, made a living by selling black flesh to white lust. His position as a well-to-do pimp attracted the hostility of other black procurers and a fight that resulted in his death. Although he died at the hands of another black man, Frank is aware that, if whites did not desire the women of his race so, there would never have been a reason to kill his brother.
At the age of fifteen this black stud can look forward to a long career as a male prostitute, but I doubt that he will continue in the business long. Once he wearies of his burden of hate against whites, he will probably go into some other racket. He may even become a big-time pimp like his brother was in a strange attempt to recreate him. Any hope that Frank will eventually find an honest job or a girl of his own age that he can truly love is very dim. At the age of fifteen, Frank is thoroughly corrupted.
5 TOMMY age 16
Tommy, at first glance, seems to be the least likely boy to be a stud to mature women. He is obviously effeminate and does not try to hide the fact that he is more attracted to other males rather than females of any age. The interview took place in a dressing room of a Broadway theatre. Tommy is not in the musical that was being performed at the moment, but he was waiting for the star, a much-married woman in her early forties, to escort her back to the penthouse apartment they shared several blocks away.
"I could've been in this show, but Lily doesn't want me around the chorus boys. (The name of Lily disguises the real name of the star who is well-known and I am using it for this interview although Tommy had not.) I suppose everyone knows that chorus boys are gay and are always glad to have a tender young kid in their midst. For myself I wouldn't mind at all but Lily wants to keep me straight. She knows that I'd love to suck some of those handsome fellows, but she's what we call a 'fag hag,' a woman who enjoys the company of faggots. Some fag hags can be real bitches. She has her own reasons for digging pansies.
"Almost everyone of the chorus boys have the same story to tell ... They left home at an early age because they couldn't stand the ribbing they got for being gay. I can tell the same story.
"I was the youngest of five children in my family and the only boy. My father died when I was two years old in some sort of accident so that made me the 'man of the house.' Considering what I've become that's rather ironic.
"My mother and sisters doted on me, of course, and I grew up thinking of myself as a girl. My sisters always put dresses on me and said I was beautiful. Actually I was the most attractive member of my family, and my sisters envied me for my perfect features and unblemished complexion.
"Envy and love are very close together and my sisters always took me to bed with them. Before I was twelve I think I slept more with my sisters than alone. Since they were all older than I, the only male, and it was so available, sex came almost naturally even though incest is anything but natural.
"I was all of eight when one of my sisters, who was fourteen, started fondling my little cock in bed.
When I developed an erection she pulled down my pajama bottoms to get a closer look at my sex. 'Want me to show mine?' she asked.
"At the age of eight I was curious but not yellow, so I told her that I wanted to see her naked. She pulled off her pajama tops and I stared, rather objectively, at her breasts. In my very young eyes she had big boobs with huge nipples, but I suppose she had normal-sized tits for a fourteen-year-old girl.
"She then took off the pajama bottoms and I looked at her cunt. I was surprised to find so much hair between her legs. When I ran my fingers over her slit I wondered why I didn't have a cunt, too. You've heard that girls are supposed to suffer from penis envy but I suffered from cunt envy. I also felt cheated in not having breasts. I thought my flat chest with its nipples like tiny raisins was bland. I actually believed that, one day, my prick and balls would disappear and I would get a nice hairy pussy. I also thought that my little nipples would grow large and breasts would form. After all, girls my age were just as flat-chested and they eventually got boobies.
"My fourteen-year-old sister was very sexy and also very cautious. She wanted to have fun but not a baby. For this reason she didn't want me to stick my pencil of sex into her slit. Instead, she rolled over and showed me her ass. 'Get on top of me and put your thing into my hole, Tommy,' she said.
"I clumsily got on top of her and felt it slip between her butt halves. My sister spread her cheeks so that my short prick could sink against her ass-hole. I sank further into her body without any trouble and she sighed. 'Push it all the way in, Tommy,' she urged. 'Fuck me.'
"My tiny dick went into her anal passage as far as it could go. I lay there until she told me to move up and down. When I finally got the swing of it I shot my first load. From that day on I had a lot more asses than vaginas ... usually male.
"My first homosexual experience came a year later. I was in a shower room at a city pool and I gazed at all those nice cans on the other boys. When I devel-opeed an erection I tried to hide it, but an older boy, about twelve, insisted that I show him what I had. He didn't seem effeminate but he had an urge for my body. The boy led me over to a toilet and closed the door. He told me that he'd like to be screwed in the ass so he bent over and spread his cheeks revealing his brown spot. I couldn't see how different a male ass was from a female one and I pushed my dick in. I pumped back and forth and shot my load.
"The twelve-year-old sat on the toilet bowl and told me to sit on his upright cock. I pressed my ass-hole against the head of his dong but it hurt when it started to go in. The boy then rubbed his dick up and down between my butt halves outside my anus until he came. His warm liquid squirted and another phase of my sexual life had begun.
"At the time of life when I was supposed to develop crushes on girls I found myself longing for boys. I guess, because I thought of myself as a girl in a boy's body, that I was like my sisters who always talked about the crushes they had. They made males sound so attractive that I wanted to enjoy them myself.
"By the time I was thirteen my homosexuality became clear to everyone. Boys my own age teased me when they were in a group but sought out my affection when they were by themselves. It was a trying yet exciting period for me and I really cut loose as far as sex was concerned. A boy my age invited me into the attic of his home and we took off our clothes. As boys do at that age we explored one another's body. His cock was nice and firm and I kissed it. It wasn't long before I had the thing in my mouth and I was giving my first blow job. Fellatio is supposed to be an 'unnatural sex act' but it came to me quite naturally. I placed my hands on his smooth rump and sucked until he shot his load. I swallowed the come and I found the taste to be very pleasant.
"One of my sisters' boyfriends, a handsome stud of nineteen, became my first serious crush. I was fourteen at the time and very much aware of my good looks. This fellow knew I was gay, and this interested him because, from what I gathered from my sister, he wasn't getting into her pants even though he kept trying. My sister was a teaser who led boys on, but stopped them short once they became aroused. I guess she was afraid of having a baby or 'losing his respect' but I had no such fears, so I flirted with him. The boy knew that I would have sex with him even though my sister wouldn't. When he picked me up in his car one day I knew what he wanted. It did my feminine ego good to realize I was stealing a boy away from my sister.
"We parked in a lonely spot and he opened his pants. His sex was the biggest I ever saw because, up until that moment, I had been messing with lads my own age and younger. I bent down and gave the fellow a great frenching and, when he finished, I thought the back of my head would come off.
"The nineteen-year-old didn't want to just passively accept my overtures; he wanted to be active, too. He had me take off my clothes and he frenched me. Later on we greeked one another and kissed each other on the mouth. This fellow was a rugged type and yet he was mad for my body. You would be surprised to know that the vast majority of queers are not effeminate. I'm in the minority inside another minority with these faggy ways of mine.
"My sister found out that her best boyfriend had switched his attentions to me so we had a cat fight just like a pair of girls scratching over the same boyfriend. My sister called me a lot of names, saying I was a fag, a pansy, a fruit, and, last but not least, a cocksucker. I had heard all these names before so they no longer bothered me. Besides, could I deny them?
"Things can get pretty hard for an attractive, teen-aged fairy in a conservative neighborhood. One night a gang of roughnecks gang-banged me in a park. They made me drop my pants and shorts and then, one at a time, they reamed my can out. Half the chorus boys in this show had had that same experience at least once in their lives. Don't get the idea that we enjoy savage gang rapes because we're queer. Do straight girls enjoy being gang-banged by boys?
"After that rape in the park I decided to leave my family. I was only fifteen but I knew that I had to find people and a place where my homosexuality wasn't frowned upon.
"I had heard that the Broadway theatre was filled with fags so I headed to New York. Times Square depressed me because dirty old men kept trying to pick me up. No matter how I tried I couldn't hide the fact that I was a queen.
"I hung around a theatre and watched a bunch of gay chorus boys leave to get a bit to eat after a matinee. They all went into a small diner across the street and I followed them. I thought all I had to do was sit there and look pretty before one of them made a pass at me, but they didn't even know I was alive. They all chatted like girls about this one and that one, gossiping in high-pitched voices. How I wanted to be part of that group because they reminded me of my sisters back home.
"I became bold enough to open the conversation. In New York, I've found, no one wants to speak first and everyone waits for the other to start a conversation. I suppose it's the paranoia so common today that makes people believe that all strangers are enemies.
"Anyhow, once the chorus guys realized I was just another cute gay boy on the loose they invited me backstage. Fifteen-year-old pretty boys were always welcomed in queer circles and a couple of fellows in the show who shared an apartment invited me to join them in bed.
"Both of these fellows were about thirty and had been living together so long that they considered themselves married. I became their 'son' and spent most of my nights sleeping between them so that they could share me at the same time. I would greek one of them while the other reamed out my ass. I was now so used to getting it in the anus that I was able to take the largest dongs. In gay circles this was an important asset to a teen-aged pretty boy.
"The men taught me dance steps and I got a job in summer stock as a chorus kid. The manager of the show, an ex-actor, fell in love with me, and I lived with him much to the dismay of my 'parents.'
"Allen was very handsome and not at all faggy and this was why I adored him so. He had a well-built body and a cock that wouldn't quit. Actually Allen wasn't really homosexual; he was a two-way swinger and liked girls, too. Some nights he'd bring a girl into the room we shared and we'd have a three-way sex orgy. For the first time in my life I screwed a female as Allen watched.
"This act of heterosexuality didn't turn me on to the straight life, because I preferred anal intercourse both passively and actively. An anal passage was much tighter than a vagina and a girl could not sodomize me in return. I liked girls, but as sisters and not lovers. I adored chatting with them but, as far as sex went, they were limited. Another misconception straights have about gays is that we detest the opposite sex. This isn't so at all. Some of my best friends are female and, for that matter, some of my worst enemies are male.
"Through Allen I met Lily. They broke into show business almost at the same time and had always been close. Once they had even been lovers, according to Lily, but they split when he started chasing boys.
"Lily was starring in another summer-stock production and Allen brought me backstage to meet her. She was out of makeup and seemed drawn and pale to me. She also looked very old. 'A new boy?' she asked Allen tiredly when we walked in. 'You sure know how to pick them, baby. He's a living doll. I could eat him up.'
"Two days later that was exactly what she did. Lily had a passion for fags especially the very young, pretty ones like me. She enjoyed shaking up the squares by walking into a restaurant or club with up to a half dozen male queens. The fags would light her cigarettes, take off her wrap and retrieve it, order cabs, and do a host of little things that nattered her. Lily was shopping around for a new batch of fags when we met, and she asked Allen, as a friend, to let me join her gay pack.
"Lily is old enough to be my mother and she told me that she always wanted to have a son. She has been married four times and never had a child. Lily had herself fixed by a doctor twenty years ago so that she would never become pregnant. She's afraid of childbirth and she is also afraid of losing her figure. I think that the real reason she got herself fixed is to fuck all she wants without getting knocked up. Now and then, when she gets loaded, she moans about the babies she'll never have. Lily-likes to indulge in all that soap-opera shit. She's an actress, after all.
"I moved into Lily's room when she was appearing in summer stock. Everyone of the guys in the chorus were queer but the youngest was twenty-five. Although Lily is close to twice that age she says that's too old for her. 'I like my meat sweet and tender,' she always tells me.
"Lily goes all out when it comes to sex. She-likes to french and be frenched and she-likes to be greeked. She says that I am just the right size for her. At sixteen I still have growing room prick-wise.
"I screwed Lily on our first night and I did it so well that she thought I was AC-DC. Some gay types can only take women on a social level but fail when it comes to sex. I told Lily about my sisters and the girls Allen used to bring home.
" 'Allen has the right idea,' she laughed. 'A bisexual has twice as much fun as everyone else. I thought of going queer myself but girls never did do anything for me. It is boys your age that turn me on.'
"She kissed me hard on the mouth and I played with her breasts. Under each one was a thin scar. Lily had had her tits built up by a plastic surgeon to look as young as possible. She was very conscious about her looks. Once a woman passes the age of forty, especially an actress, fear of old age is very real. I guess the reason she-likes young boys is to make herself believe that she can still attract youth.
"One of the boys in the chorus told me that women like Lily who always have gays around them pick homosexuals for companions because they know they'll never have to compete with other women for them. This makes sense. The chorus boy who told me this is going to an analyst so he knows all that psychological stuff. If Lily was really sure of her womanhood she would have straight guys for lovers and companions.
"If Lily is a bit mad she is not alone. You have to be a bit mad in show business. If I weren't equally as crazy I would've left her long ago because it takes a nut to take a nut.
"After summer stock Lily moved me into her penthouse. It seemed odd to me that an attractive, still young superstar like Lily could only find a teen-aged fag to love her. I wasn't going to complain because she was very generous to me. Every stitch I wear came out of her pocket.
"Lily is trying at times, I must admit. After all, if four husbands couldn't stand her, she couldn't be perfect. Lily drinks, for one thing. She isn't a lush and always manages to appear for performances, but the bottle is her second love. Well, maybe third. The theatre comes first, boys come second, and the booze is next on the list.
"We've been together now for seven months so we're almost married. Lily, however,-likes to think of me as her son which makes sex weird. A month ago she got loaded and walked around the penthouse naked crying about the babies she would never have as usual. I humored her until she asked me to strip. When I did she kissed my body and kept saying, 'You're my baby ... you're my baby...'
"It's true that I've laid my sister but I had never made a pass at my mother. Fags are supposed to have a thing for their mothers but I never felt any strong emotion toward mine one way or the other.
"Lily got sloppier in her mouthing and started kissing my tool and stones. 'Baby ... son ... sweetheart,' she kept saying between mouthfuls. It was on the sick side and I couldn't get a hard on.
" 'What's the matter, you little fag?' she snapped suddenly. 'Run out of juice so soon?'
"That was Lily: one second she's weepingly romantic and, the next, she's brutally sadistic. Her challenge to me to have an erection did more to get my hard up than had her gush about me being her baby son. When she saw my flesh swell she got soft and gooey again. 'My son,' she repeated. 'My baby.'
"Lily got on top of me and impaled herself on my pole. She kept on with that 'son' business while she did me silly. I shot my juice up into her body and this took her out of that black, mad mood. Keeping Lily sane, I suppose, is my real job.
"I want to have a job in the chorus or something backstage, at least, but Lily knows the theatre only too well to have her teen-aged pretty boy run loose. Since I've known her I've only been able to tear off a couple of quickies ... with males. One of them was with Allen when he came through town with a beautiful starlet on his arm. The two were fucking around together but this didn't stop Allen's sex drive. He got me in the bathroom of the penthouse and we exchanged blow jobs. For a minute I felt like throwing myself at him and begging him to take me away. But, away from what? With Allen I lived in dingy rooms and ate in cheap diners. With Lily I live in a penthouse, have the best of food and clothes, and wallow in the limelight that comes from tailing after a well-known fag hag.
"The only other quickie I had was with a cute boy in the cast of the show. We did it right in this very dressing room when Lily was on stage and he had fifteen minutes to spare before his next line. He told me that he was always crazy for my ass and it was wonderful to feel male meat in my can again after so long. I didn't have time to return the favor because he had to pull on his pants and make an entrance. His next line was with Lily which made it all kind of exciting.
"I don't know why I just don't give up and leave Lily since so many beautiful guys are after me. I guess I've grown to love the comforts my superstar can provide me with. I'm a real bitch. Rich old men support pretty young girls so why can't it happen the other way around? Role reversal is the order of the New Morality; men are becoming women and women are becoming men. I suppose, in time, there will just be one sex. People will fuck with others because they love them and no one will ask what kind of stuff you have between your legs. Hell, that sounds crazy. After living with Lily for so long I must be cracking up. Hey! The act's over. Stick around and interview Lily if you want. Just don't tell her about me making it with that cute boy in the cast because she'd brain me."
Reaction: Tommy isn't a bisexual, but a homosexual who is playing the role of a man for a woman. Many large cities, especially New York, are filled with AC-DC studs who serve both sexes equally and will perform for anyone who is willing to pay. Tommy is capable of having sex relations with females, but he really doesn't care for women as love partners. His desires are all pointed toward the male sex and I am sure he will leave Lily once he tires of her moods, drinking, and sexual demands.
The boy was first introduced to anal intercourse by his sister, so it was easy for him to switch to another boy for this same form of eroticism. When his older sisters talked about boys he formed the idea that males were perfect love objects. This idea was further deepened when he successfully took one of his sister's boyfriends away from her.
Once Tommy's homosexual pattern was set, it was hard to break. Having heterosexual relations will not change him; and Lily, the older woman he is living with, is not helping to change his sexual attitudes. As Tommy suggested, I did stay around and talk to the musical-comedy star. I found her possessive, self-centered, and in constant search of compliments. Tommy's statement that she, like other "fag hags," lean on homosexuals for assurance because they don't dare risk the demands and challenges of heterosexual males, proved to be very astute. Lily, a four-time loser in marriage, turned to a teen-aged boy for love ... and a homosexual one at that. She, despite her years, was immature, while Tommy impressed me as being sophisticated and adult.
Tommy will probably leave Lily after he finds a man who is willing to support him in comfort, if not luxury. The boy is also nervous about making a career in the theatre and might drop Lily if tempted by a part in a show.
The boy will continue to be friendly with women even though he may not have sexual relations with them. He still longs for the days when he had gab fests with his sisters and thought of himself as one of the girls. Many homosexual males have this same need to have social intercourse with females, and that is why it is not uncommon to see them in the company of girls. Quite a number of heterosexual women and homosexual men live together on a platonic basis, because they enjoy one another as persons if not lovers. Females unsure of their femininity often seek out unmanly men because they realize no sexual demands will be put on them. In time, however, these strange pairings become hate-love relationships when the partners become increasingly aware of the inadequacies of one another. Tommy and Lily are now in this state, so their affair is drawing to a close. Lily will look for another homosexual to dominate and Tommy will seek out a man he can love as he could not love the adult woman.
6 KENNETH age 17
Kenneth is a big, good-natured, raw-boned boy who is preparing to go to college once the summer ends. At the time of the interview he was working as a lifeguard at a California beach just south of Los Angeles. The taping took place in a small shed where he and the other lifeguards changed clothes.
"The weather looks pretty grim so I may not even have to work today at all. It's a bitch when you have to hang around out there for hours keeping your eye on the one or two characters that go in swimming no matter what kind of day it is.
"The pay is good; enough to buy me a semester of college education. So I'll be out here each summer until I graduate. My parents can't afford to send me to college so I'll have to make every dollar that the school will demand. I don't mind. I know some guys who want to go to college but have to work to help support younger brothers and sisters. I have just one younger brother and one younger sister so my parents don't require my financial help at home. If I can earn my way through college they will give me their blessings if not their money.
"Man, if I had enough money that would solve all my problems. With money you can do anything, go anywhere, and have anybody. With money an ugly, old guy can get himself the sweetest girl by just flashing his loot around. I know because that's how some bastard took my girl away from me.
"I planned to marry Janet some day. We were both only sixteen and had a long way to go. I never tried to get into her and, in fact, was a virgin. At sixteen I suppose most kids, boys and girls, are cherry even though the majority of guys hate to admit it.
"Janet was anxious to marry and start a home of her own because she hated the one she was in. I was poor, but, compared to Janet, I was well-off. Her father worked as a day laborer doing menial jobs on an irregular basis. He drank half the money he made and the rest went to his wife who tried to raise five children. Janet had dropped out of high school to help support the family and, as soon as her father saw this extra income improving things around the house, decided to work two days a week instead of his usual three. The family finances quickly dropped back to its old level and Janet felt she had quit school for nothing. She was very bitter and I couldn't blame her. 'Kenny,' she told me, iil never marry a poor man.'
"Well, I didn't plan to be poor and that's why I wanted to get a college degree. A diploma from college was a passport into the good life. Janet understood, but she kept thinking of that long stretch from the age of sixteen until I became a producing citizen. If her home life had been happier she wouldn't have acted so rashly.
"I can view Janet objectively now after a year but I didn't at the time the trouble happened. Janet was a slim, pretty girl with large blue eyes that were always so sad. She worked in a bakery selling cake and bread. It didn't pay much but she did get to bring home stuff that couldn't sell because it was either damaged or stale. She, literally, became the breadwinner in her family.
"The bakery was owned by a greasy-looking guy with a paunch and busy hands. Joe liked to rub up against the girls who worked for him and grab quick feels. He had been married once but his wife divorced him for adultery.
"Joe owned a couple of other businesses and had his oily paws in real estate, too. He was a crude, ugly son-of-a-bitch who never graduated high school. Yet he knew how to turn a dollar. Joe lived in the best house in town and also drove the fanciest car. He liked to show what a great lover he was by going out with a different girl every weekend. The only reason these broads went with him was his money. Take away his loot and he'd be just another lecherous grease ball.
"Janet told me how Joe kept trying to date her. This made me sick because he was more than twice her age. 'If he ever tries to get fresh with you,' I said bravely, 'let me know. I'll take care of him!'
"I could've handled the creep easily because I was always strong and, at the age of sixteen, I was bigger than most men. I was sure as hell bigger that that bastard and could've kicked the shit out of him without getting winded. He was such a piss-poor physical specimen that I never, for one second, thought that Janet was even remotely considering his offer. I was sure dumb a year ago. I sure grew up fast, though.
"One weekend I asked Janet to see a movie with me. This was the way we usually spent our dates. After a movie we would have burgers and milk shakes and cap the wild evening by a little innocent kissing. I wanted to go beyond kissing because I always had a hard on when I was with Janet. When I got home I jerked off to relieve my tension. But, suddenly, this changed, when Janet's mother told me she wasn't home. 'Her boss picked her up in his car,' she told me.
"I was stricken. She had actually gone out with the creep! I tried to tell myself that she only gave in once to get him off her back and to keep her job. When I tried to contact her the next day Janet's kid sister told me that she wasn't feeling well and couldn't see me.
This time I figured Joe had gotten her to drink and she was hung over.
"It was the same deal the following weekend and the one after that. And, when I finally got hold of the girl she dropped a bombshell, i'm going to marry Joe,' she said.
" 'You must be kidding!' I cried. 'You told me you couldn't stand the way he touched you! He's twice your age and more!'
"Janet shrugged and looked at me with her sad eyes, I told you I would never marry a poor man ... I didn't say anything about his age or looks.'
"I couldn't believe what I heard. Janet, sweet little Janet, was coldly marrying for money. I knew that she was desperate about her situation but I didn't know that she was all that desperate. I thought she had flipped and that she would get over it. She needed her parents' consent to marry at sixteen and I didn't think that they would give it to her. It would be as if they sold their daughter to a rich man hoping to get some kind of reward.
"Well, that's exactly what Janet's parents did. As soon as the knot was tied Janet's lazy, no-good father got a dream job as a watchman where he could sleep most of the time in one of Joe's businesses. The pay he got was far more than the job was worth but I knew that this was payment for giving away his pretty, virginal daughter.
"I went off the deep end after that for awhile. It made me feel like something less than a man for allowing a dirty grease ball to buy the girl I wanted so much to marry. I kept picturing them together in bed with his oily body upon hers. If only I had money to offer, Janet would've been mine. It was a crummy thing to be born poor. The rich could buy the bodies of the young spawned by the poor and gratify their lusts. For the first time in my life I got drunk. I went into a bar flashing an I.D. card belonging to an eighteen-year-old friend and started to pour booze down my throat. Yes, it was all pretty melodramatic, the kind of things you see in the movies, but that's exactly how I reacted to Janet's dropping me for cold cash. I couldn't believe that she had any love for Joe and this made it all the worse. I could understand love but, when a girl marries for money she is no better than a whore. Janet ... a whore...
"There was a woman in the bar who was twice my age who kept shifting her eyes in my direction. If a girl could sell herself to an older man why couldn't a sixteen-year-old boy sell himself to an older woman? Women were always demanding equal job opportunities, little realizing that it worked both ways; a male could get a female's job if he wanted it and now I wanted to be a male whore.
"I don't know how the conversation got started or who started it but, before I knew it, I was leaving the joint with the woman on my arm. She had a nice shape; a little over-blown, but nice. When I walked down the street with her I wondered if she were a whore and was going to charge me for a fuck. It didn't matter. It was time I lost my physical innocence anyhow since I had already lost my intellectual cherry when my girl sold out for cash.
"Her name was Shelia and she was a divorcee. I had the fleeting idea that she could have been Joe's ex. Now that would really be ironic! While Joe was screwing my girl I was gashing his.
"We mounted a flight of stairs and Shelia opened a door to a modest little apartment. I didn't know which one of us was going to be the whore but I kissed her on the mouth anyhow. The woman returned the kiss in such a way that told me she wanted to go the whole route. For a sixteen-year-old male virgin this was heady stuff. If it wasn't for the fact that I was drunk and angry about Janet I probably would've bolted out of the place. No matter how teen-aged guys brag they are all scared shitless that first time.
"I ran my hands over her lush form and my prick stiffened. I remembered all those chaste weekends I used to embrace Janet never daring to make a serious advance but now I let myself go. I grabbed the woman's ripe ass and pressed against her. i want to fuck you,' I said or words to that effect.
" 'And I want to fuck you,' Shelia answered.
"Hearing that familiar word from the mouth of a woman shocked me into sobriety for a moment. Now I was certain she was a prostitute because no 'decent' woman would use such language. 'How much for the lay?' I asked.
"She giggled and ran the tip of her tongue over my lips. 'I'm no whore,' she said. 'A handsome boy like you doesn't have to pay anyone.'
"I was surprised again when the woman slipped one of her hands over my crotch. No one had ever been that forward to me before. 'You've got a big one there, honey,' she said when she felt my stiffness.
"Janet was now the last thing in my mind. My first lay was all that mattered. I took off my clothes in a hurry as the woman stripped. When she took off her bra I gazed at the bared breasts of a woman for the first time in my life. She had heavy, rounded tits with gigantic red nipples. When she took off her panties I leered at her hairy slit and her beautiful ass. She was well in her thirties but I didn't notice the age difference when we were both naked.
"Shelia admired my body as much as I admired hers. I was brought up in the belief that male bodies meant nothing to girls. They could view them naked and have little or no reaction. But the mature woman changed this idea when she ran her hands over my flesh telling me how nice and firm I was. 'Keep your body in shape,' she told me. 'Don't go to fat like so many men ... like my ex-husband.'
"She took my stiff thing in her hand and mumbled with pleasure. 'How very virile you are,' she sighed.
"Since I had passed myself off in the bar as an eighteen-year-old she probably thought I had laid before. I didn't want to tell her that I was only a sixteen-year-old cherry. I didn't want to scare her off.
For all I knew there might have been some kind of law about teen-aged kids laying older women.
"The woman spread herself out on the bed and my tool almost jumped out of its socket when I looked down at all that waiting nakedness. Drink is supposed to slow men down but I was so young and virile that the booze I had poured into me couldn't keep my good prick down.
"I lay right on top of her and rammed my tube into her with a single stroke. She reacted right away by wrapping her arms and legs around my body. I rammed and rammed with rapid strokes and felt my come about to spill over. I held back and then let loose. I was now, officially, a man.
"When I lay there on top of the woman with my juice pouring into her I wondered why the hell so many people made a fuss about sex. It wasn't all that big a deal. It was fun and relieved tension and brought people together, so what was all the shouting about? Where was the sin?
"I slid off the woman's body after I had finished and leered at her nakedness again. Her big nipples were now protruding in the centers. I placed my mouth on one of them hungrily and sucked. Shelia stroked my hair and said I was a wonderful lay. Yes, that was the very term she used. I never thought that women enjoyed sex as much as men, but the woman I had picked up in the bar was teaching me a lot. When I thought of all those virginal nights with Janet I hated myself for not being bolder. If I had laid her she wouldn't have been so quick to peddle her sweet ass to a dirty old man.
"The woman grabbed my prick and started to play with it. I could see she wanted to get it hard again. When it began to swell, Shelia kissed my cheek. 'Oh, darling, you're just too much!' she sighed.
"Once the woman jerked me into hardness again I mounted her and rammed her once more-hard. This time I didn't want to shoot my load fast so I pumped easily with sure, strong motions. Sex was no great mystery because here was I, a drunken sixteen-year-old kid, picking it up with no fuss at all.
"Shelia got more excited this time and groaned. Her protruding nipples dug into my chest and our open mouths met. The sexiest thing I had ever done to Janet was to french kiss on a couple of dates when she lowered her guard a bit. Janet had only allowed me to probe my tongue into her mouth but this woman was cooperating by probing back. She sucked spit out of my mouth as my strokes increased and she knew I was near a climax. Shelia sure did know how to excite a guy and keep him excited. I wondered why her husband left her. Maybe it was because she was a nymphomaniac and fooled around with too many other guys. A nympho ... now that's what I needed at that time of life.
"The woman broke away from the kiss and gasped for air when I shot my come. 'Kid ... kid ... kid!' she cried and pushed up into me.
"When I was finished again the woman sucked on my chest and ran her tongue down my belly. I trembled. Was she actually going to ... to...?
"Her mouth encompassed my limp dick with moist warmth. This time I moaned aloud with pleasure. I had daydreamt of being frenched like this but I thought it was something only prostitutes did for money. Damn, but this Shelia was all woman! What the hell did I waste my time with a little girl for? Janet was prettier and much younger than Shelia but what a difference as far as love was concerned! Now I could see that Janet hadn't really loved me. If she had she would've stayed with me through college and until I started in business. And, if she couldn't wait that long she could've given her body to me out of sheer need. But the girl had never felt the need for me that I felt for her. Crushing poverty had stamped out her instincts leaving only a calculating shell. This was the shell Joe, the lecherous bastard, was now stuck with.
"I had gone into the bar feeling very sorry for myself but now I realized I had been taken off the hook by Janet when she sold herself to Joe. Now I didn't have to feel guilty about letting her wait for me while I struggled to achieve some security. Now I was free to love as I pleased.
"I boiled up for the third time out of sheer joy. I shot off into the woman's mouth and she breathed hotly through her nostrils when the juice hit the back of her throat. Would Joe expect Janet to suck him off, I wondered? She had never shown much passion to me and I tried to think of the two of them in bed with the greaseball trying to get the sixteen-year-old innocent to give him a blow job. And, for all I knew, the cool, sad little girl might just give in ... like a whore ... in order to retain the security and money she had married for.
" 'Kenny ... Kenny,' Shelia muttered in complete joy. 'If only I had met you when I was your age.'
" "That goes double for me,' I answered.
"Shelia became my mistress, if you can imagine a sixteen-year-old schoolboy having a mistress. I told my parents that I met a guy at school who wanted me to tutor him in some subjects in order to explain my absences from home. I told them that this guy paid well for my services and I proved it by showing them the money Shelia gave me for my stud work. I really didn't want to take money from the woman but it did my heart good to know that I, like Janet, could sell sex.
"Shelia was a nurse and she made a nice salary so she could afford giving me ten-dollar bills every now and then. We were careful not to be seen in public and I always met her at the apartment. She gave me a key so I could let myself in after school to wait for her.
"The woman didn't bug me about marrying her or any of that crap. She knew that our age difference was all right for an affair, but nothing so binding as a marriage. I couldn't help but think of Janet when she said that.
"Janet became pregnant and had a baby. I used to see her driving by in a new car and she didn't look any happier. Her father got drunk on the job and some burglars robbed the place he was supposed to be guarding. Joe had no other choice but to fire his father-in-law, so he was back where he started, scaring up day work here and there.
"I guess I loved Shelia because I never tired of laying her. She taught me all there was to know about sex and said I could try out my skills with young girls my own age, if I wanted to. But I never wanted to. Shelia was all the girl I wanted.
"We were together for almost a year before she told me she had found another position in another hospital. Since the job paid close to two grand a year more and was located in New Orleans, a city she always wanted to live in, I couldn't blame her for leaving.
"I know her address and I plan to see her before I start college. Shelia's already mailed me the airline ticket even though I didn't want her to go through that expense, but she wrote to say that I needed all the money I could get my hands on when I start going to college. I wouldn't be surprised if she even offers to help pay for the tuition. I'll turn it down but she'll force it on me just the same. I don't want to sound like a hardboiled hustler but I do enjoy having a woman pay for me. Maybe this is all still a reaction from Janet. Maybe I still want to prove that I, too, can be a whore.
"Well, I don't want to be too hard on the girl. She's still married to Joe and I don't think either are too happy about it because I rarely see them together. She has a baby and I'm sure she loves it, at least. The girl never did have much love in her life.
"As a lifeguard I get a lot of young girls hanging around me all the time when I'm up on my perch looking for drownees. Teen-aged girls love lifeguards, and I know, with just the right amount of pressure, I could get one of those kids to roll over for me. Yet, somehow, they all seem so damned young even though they are my age. They all seem so silly and they bore me. But, when a mature woman in her thirties and, sometimes, her forties walks by I find myself gazing at the swing of her hips and the way her breasts bounce. Shelia sure got me hung up on older women.
"I'm not in any hurry to go steady with a girl my age. After that experience with Janet I think I'll not get serious with anyone until I'm out of college and settled in business. I don't think a man should marry until he's well into his twenties anyhow. What's the big rush? I guess the reason most kids marry very young is for sex. That's a terrible reason to lock yourself in for life with someone you might grow to hate. My advice, is for all these guys with hot nuts to cool themselves off with a mature woman who won't demand a wedding ring first. In these days a guy needs a college education and an added investment of several years of his life before he can support a family properly. What is a guy supposed to do until then ... jerk off? Times change and that old business about waiting until you marry before you get laid is nonsense. Young guys at the height of their sexual powers must have some kind of outlet before they do something foolish like marrying when they can't afford to. The best thing that ever happened to me was meeting Shelia in a gin mill. In New Orleans now she may be in another bar picking up another teen-aged stud but I don't care. I don't own her body and she doesn't own mine. That's the way it should be between males and females."
Reaction: Kenneth is not a teen-aged stud in the sense that he is making a business out of selling his flesh to older women. His affair with Shelia is a genuine love relationship even though he accepts money from her. The older woman gives him cash in an at-temp to hold him and also out of a deep affection for the teen-aged boy. It is very doubtful that Kenneth will embark upon a career of selling his sexual favors to mature women because he is not that cold-blooded. He is grateful to Shelia for the outlet that she provided for him just as she is grateful to him for his virile young passions.
The affair between Kenneth and Shelia bears out Benjamin Franklin's theory expounded in his tract, Advice to a Young Man on Selecting a Mistress, that relationships between young males and mature women are the most enriching for both parties. Shelia, the nurse in her thirties, is mature enough not to be possessive of the teen-aged boy, so that their love can blossom freely without undue restraints. As Kenneth suspects, this woman may be having other affairs with other boys since she sounds like someone who needs young studs to lavish her affection on at all times. While Kenneth is free to pick and choose another woman or girl, he seems content to not become deeply involved romantically. He still bears mental scars from his relationship with Janet. When the girl suddenly abandoned him in favor of another man, it taught him not to commit his heart too quickly and so completely again.
Kenneth will probably outgrow Shelia in college as he matures himself. He will slowly break off with the woman who gave him stability and turn his attentions to marriage, and girls his own age. Shelia will go on having sexual affairs with teen-aged studs long after Kenneth has settled down into adulthood.
7 HARRY age 17
Harry is a strikingly handsome young bellhop who works in one of the best hotels in Reno, Nevada. While his job may sound menial he had to pay two thousand dollars to buy it from the hotel's manager. The reason he wanted this job so much is that he knew he would make up his investment in a few months and the rest would all be clear profit. The tips, alone, have given him a high income, but Harry also sells his favors to the many women who come to Reno, Nevada every year for quick divorces. This interview took place in his motel room not far from the place he worked and hustled in.
"The easiest mark in the world is a woman who is about to be divorced. She wants to prove that she is still sexy after losing her husband so she makes herself available to any stud who wants to exploit her.
In the hotel I work at the place is crawling with women here for divorces. You see, in this state, if you are a resident for just six weeks you can file for a quick divorce under Nevada's very liberal laws. Sometimes men come here for the six weeks but most of the would-be divorcees are women. It is much easier for a woman to take off six weeks than a man. Besides, the men usually pay their bills anyhow because they want to break up the marriage as soon as possible.
"I've been working the hotel for six months now and I expect to buy a new sports car soon with cash. That'll give you an idea of how much money I've been making. I fuck five women a week on the average and I'd say their average age is about forty. The oldest one I ever screwed looked like she was sixty. Since she gave me a hundred bucks for spending an hour in bed with her, I didn't mind her age in the least. All women are the same to me anyhow, even the young ones. From what I've seen of marriage I want no part of it. No cunt is going to get her hooks into my dough.
"My parents broke up when I was ten. For a while they each had custody of me. I spent six months with my father and six with my mother. They really didn't want me but I was a pawn they used in their chess game of hate. When I went to live with my mother she wanted to know if her ex-husband was fucking around and, when I went to live with my father, he asked the same question. I could never understand why they married in the first place. What was the original attraction?
"My father got tired of the chess game when he found himself a blonde cutie who was just out of her teens. He tried to claim that he was secretly married to her, but I knew that they were just shacking up together. I was thirteen at the time and plenty wise to the ways of adults and their lust.
"The blonde was a nympho because she couldn't get enough. When my father left his apartment for work she made a play for anything in pants. The super of the building used to drop by regularly to throw it into her. I caught them once in bed naked with him on top screwing to beat the band. The blonde made me promise not to tell my father. She offered me a good bribe ... her body.
" 'You're big enough to know about sex and things, Harry,' she said and groped me after the super left.
"I looked at all that beautiful, naked meat and I couldn't blame my father for making a fool of himself for the tramp. Her tits stuck right out of her body in perfect cones with red roses for nipples. She had a light-blonde bush of pubic hair through which I could see that dark line of her cunt. When she opened my fly and exposed my rigid digit I thought I'd come all over.
"She got me to take off all the rest of my clothes and brought me down on top of her. The blonde guided my stiff thing into her with one hand and she pumped up against my torso. Once I got to tempo of the motions I pumped myself and did it for the first time. I shot off and she patted my little ass. 'We'll do this all the time, Harry,' she said.
"It was pretty weird, me screwing my father's mistress when I was only thirteen. The blonde had a wonderful body and was very sensual but I couldn't help hating her. She was making a fool of my father by fucking me, the super, and three or four other guys she let into the place. It made me sick to watch her butter up the old man when they were together. He was so crazy for her body that he couldn't see what a slut she was. But, no matter how much I hated the blonde, I couldn't get enough of her meat. Eventually I hated myself for not telling my father what she was like and for being so weak. All men were weak when it came to beautiful women. Once a girl has a guy hooked on her body she can manipulate him any way she wants. I promised myself that I wasn't going to let this happen to me.
"Now that my father had found himself a new playmate, he lost interest in me and allowed me to stay with my mother all the time. This was no bargain because she was always moaning about how rotten men were. She took her hate against men out on me and always said that I'd turn out just like my father. I never did tell her that I had already shared his mistress. But, as for turning out like him, not on your life. No woman was going to make a fool of me.
"At the age of fifteen I got sick of my mother complaining all the time and left home. I lied about my age and joined the navy, but I was kicked out four months later when they found out how young I really was. I stole a car and drove it across country. A cop stopped me because I went through a light and, when I couldn't prove that I owned the car or a driver's license, I was busted and sent to the county jail for six months. As it turned out the bust was a blessing in disguise, because a stud in prison told me about how fast a guy could get rich by working the divorcees in Reno.
"After I got out of jail I headed for Reno, only to find that the bastard of a manager expected two grand for giving me a job. He knew how valuable a position it was so he asked for what the traffic would bear.
"I worked at odd jobs until I got two grand together. One of the oddest was being stud to a woman of fifty. I met Clara when she was coming out of a gambling casino. She had just won a pot of money and was in a generous mood. I had been around town long enough to know how to exploit these moods. When I asked her for a few coins to buy a meal she blew me to a steak dinner. After that she just blew me ... period. For some weird reason the old broad didn't want me to do it regular like so she just blew me all the time. Not only that-she never took off her clothes, and would sit on a chair while I stood before her stark naked with my dick up.
"Clara was a health nut. She believed that the come of a teen-aged boy contained protein and other elements to slow down the aging process. I guess it did because she didn't have a line on her face and looked younger than fifty. But I was sure she only used this as an excuse. She couldn't admit that she blew guys for sex reasons only.
"I hustled in the lobby of the hotel I'm working in now. The manager always kicked me out when he could, but he couldn't do anything once a woman took me to her room. The other bellhops hated me because I was taking action away from them. Since most of them were older guys I was too much competition for them. Older women really dug young boys, which was no surprise to me after screwing my father's mistress.
"When I got two grand together the manager told me that now I had to fight off competition from the other free-lancing studs. I told him I could handle it and went to work.
"I had to hustle fast because I already owed my first week's rent at this motel. I wore tight pants to reveal my ass and crotch and I knew just how to brush up against a woman to indicate that I was available for fun and games.
"The first woman I had was in Reno for her second divorce in almost as many years. She was a brassy blonde with tits stuck out a country mile: the kind so many men make fools of themselves for. Two already had and she had her eyes open for Number Three. Some women made a business of marrying one guy after another to collect alimony and other goodies. When I looked at the blonde I couldn't understand how a reasonably intelligent guy wasn't able to see through her. I guess there are a lot of dumb guys in the world.
"I carried her bags to her room and fooled around with the shades just to kill time while she hunted around her bag for a tip. The bell captain told me that even the hardest-boiled divorcee feels at least a little guilty about taking a guy for a ride in court, and she tries to salve this by over-tipping the males that serve her. This is a sound theory because I've discovered that no one tips as much as a woman getting a divorce.
"The brassy broad gave me two dollars which is pretty steep for toting a couple of bags a couple of steps. Since I knew that she was loaded, I gave her the availability treatment by brushing up against her and saying, 'Any further service, ma'am?'
"She dropped her eyes and looked at my tight crotch and then at my face. 'How old are you, sonny?' she wanted to know.
" 'Seventeen.'
" 'Sweety, you make me feel so old and I'm only thir ... twenty-five.'
"She took at least ten years off her age but, in my line of work, a thirty-five-year-old woman was one of the young marks. But it really didn't matter because sex was a mechanical thing. I had defeated that urge that used to make me want sex so much. Instead of my urges controlling me I was the one in command. I was only seventeen but I considered myself much more mature than these guys in their forties, fifties, and even sixties that drooled over every piece of fluff that walked by. I was free of lust. Instead I used the lust of others ... namely older women.
"Since the woman had been a guest in the hotel before, on her previous trip to divorce her first husband, she knew of the joint's reputation for providing stud service. But it still surprised her that I was so young. 'Maybe I'm just getting older,' she said, 'but you seem to be no more than a child.'
"I opened my pants and showed her what I owned. 'I'll measure this against any man's,' I said.
"She smiled and took me in her hand. 'I'll have to admit you've got a point there ... and quite a spear, too,' she told me.
"So, only an hour after I started working, I was turning my first trick. We stripped down and I thought of that other blonde when I looked at her naked body for the first time. She had very pale hair between her legs, too, and her breasts were firm. Since her body was the bait she used to attract husbands she had to keep it in good tune.
"I laid her on the bedspread and she grunted like a pig when I rammed her. I wasn't feeling especially sexual; I was only going through the motions of passion without being passionate. Still, I managed to arouse her greatly and she gasped when I shot my load.
"She gave me twenty bucks for this quickie, so I left the room, ten minutes after I had entered it, twenty-two bucks to the good. At that rate I would make up for the two grand I had spent to get the job in no time.
"The manager knew right away what had kept me and he winked when I went back to the lobby to pick up another set of bags for another guest, i like fast workers,' he said.
"I was afraid that he might ask for a piece of the action as if he hadn't already collected enough. But, he didn't and I brought a gambler and his lady to a room. He tipped big and this told me that he had lied when he signed the register. The bimbo he had with him was no more his wife than I was. Guilt, you see, was working for me again. There was so much to be guilty for in Reno that people just had to look for forgiveness somehow, and over-tipping was one way they begged it from bellhops and other service employees.
"I never got hung up on gambling myself although I have sat in on a few poker games. I always lost and that's what made me quit. I never stick with any-that that doesn't put money in my pocket. Some of the other bellhops seem to want to lose. A lot of the guests who threw away hundreds and thousands of dollars on the gambling tables were the same type. Me, I never let go of a dollar until I was sure I'd get at least a dollar's worth of goods in return. I'm no fool.
"Female hookers abound in Reno, too. I know a couple of them working the hotel. The management must be getting some kind of cut or else they'd be out on the street. As a matter-of-fact a hooker occupies the room next to mine. If you're interested you can drop by for a business call. She's a great-looking redhead and goes all the way for a reasonable price. I know because she tried to peddle her ass to me the day I moved in. She took me for some dumb hick looking for thrills. I told her I was in the same business and to forget about it. Why the hell should I pay for what I'm being paid for?
"Now and then I get a woman who wants to wrap me up and take me home with her. No dice. I don't want to live with anyone. I like coming to this room and being by myself. I guess I plain don't care much for people.
"This nice-looking broad with a slim figure and long legs who was at the hotel a few months ago dropping a husband went after me in a big way, and I was almost tempted to check out of the hotel when she did. Then I thought of the sweet deal I would have to give up and waved bye-bye. I don't want to be stuck with one mark; I'd rather play the field with a mess of them.
"You'd be surprised, at how cut-and-tried these broads can be when it comes to ordering a stud. They're just like men. One doll out here to drop husband Number Three just stood in the lobby of the hotel looking over the stock of bellboys as if we were cattle until her forty-two-year-old eyes lit on me, the youngest calf in the pack. She told me to bring some newspapers up to her room but I knew all she was interested in was what I had between my legs.
"Gloria was waiting for me with a drink in her hand and I could see she was already a bit loaded. She put her hand on my shoulder when I placed the papers down. 'I hear you're a great stud,' she said coming directly to the point.
"When I asked her where she had gotten this information she mentioned the name of another gay divorcee who had spent six weeks at the hotel. I knew her as a chubby doll who always wanted to have the male position on top while I was below. I was sure that her need to be the dominant one in bed had something to do with her divorce.
"Gloria wasn't quite like that but she was a tough cookie who liked to order men around. Once we settled on price she ordered me to take my bellhop uniform off while she sat in a chair sipping her drink and looking me over as if I were some kind of sex slave. Well, I was so I couldn't kick.
"When I stripped down my tool was erected as usual. I didn't feel anything for this nut but I had so much control over my body that I could fake sexuality to the point of getting a hard on when I wasn't really in the mood. I guess when you're seventeen having hard ons all the time wasn't so unusual. But, you have to remember, I screw on a professional basis which means my sex is on call all of my waking hours. I've screwed two different broads to their complete satisfaction within the same hour. So, Gloria was right, I am a great stud.
"The woman, still sitting and sipping, asked me to come closer. I thought she was going to be like that other weird lady who only wanted to blow. Gloria ran her fingers over my thrusting sex and I kept feeling that she was dying to tear my meat off. Every divorcee in the joint harbored some hate for men even when they hired studs. Hiring studs, in fact, was one way in which they could express their hatred because they could control the sexual situation and make us crawl. I didn't mind crawling ... for a price.
" 'You're well-endowed,' she said objectively as if looking at me through a microscope. 'I'm sure you've thrilled many a girl with your stuff. I don't thrill easily. You'd better be good.'
"She was trying to bluff me into impotency by pretending to have such a high boiling point that only the most powerful of lovers were able to give her gratification. I knew all the tricks these damned, ball-busting divorcees had. I was not the fool she thought I was.
'Gloria snapped out her next order. "Undress me,' she said. I had undressed women before and I went to my knees. I slipped off her shoes and then reached up under her dress to undo her stockings from her garter belt. When I rolled the stockings off her legs I removed her dress.
"She kept sipping her drink all throughout the stripping trying to act casual and, in turn, make me feel that I wasn't pleasing, her. But I could tell how sexually aroused she was. There was that gleam in her eyes that she could not hide and her toes curled every time I brushed against her body. At seventeen I had become an expert in my field so I knew when a woman was excited or not.
"I took off her bra. Gloria's breasts were pendulant but, since they were small, they were not unattractive. Her dark nipples were rigid which was yet another sign of her erotic arousal. I pulled her panties down and, to my surprise, I found that she had shaved her cunt bald.
" i shave off my pubic hair every time I get a divorce,' she explained. "When I start a new life I want to feel like a baby girl.'
" 'Very pretty,' I told her and kissed her slit. When my lips touched her I smelled perfume. For a woman who was pretending to discourage my sexual advances she was doing everything to encourage me. I didn't know what her particular psychological hang up was and I didn't care. I just wanted to turn in a wonderful performance and collect the fifty bucks she promised me. Gloria obviously wanted me to work hard for the dough so she threw in a little sadism.
"Actually I kind of liked her private smooth. Hairy snatches left me cold. So I started my trick by giving her an oral job. When I spread her legs and pushed my mouth against her I heard her put the drink aside. She was too aroused to continue with her casual act.
"I sucked a hickey over her bare slit and then lapped inside the pinkish interior. I found her clitoris, that little bud of flesh just inside her opening, and teased it with my tongue. The bud erected and there was no denying now that she was warm to my advances.
" "The bed,' she gasped suddenly and stood up.
"I followed her rolling rump toward the bed. The woman spread herself out on it with her legs wide. Her bare cunt was on display with the red hickey I had put there. I felt tempted to stand there for a minute just to show her that I, too, could play games but there was that fifty dollar fee. Gloria was paying for her game-playing while I couldn't afford it.
"Her breath left her body when I pressed my weight down on her naked form. I inched myself into her slowly even though she was far from being a tight virgin. When I was all the way into her I pumped fast. She squirmed under me and her face flushed. I rammed and rammed until I spewed forth my money-making juice.
"By the time I was through with her Gloria was begging me to be her traveling companion once her divorce comes through. 'We'll have a fun life, honey,' she promised. 'I'll pay all the bills. I'm taking my husband for a pile so we'll have lots of loot to spend.'
"She thought she was tempting me with that offer but it had the opposite effect on me. I couldn't live with a woman who bragged about the men she made suckers and fools of. She would eventually try to break me and that is something I planned to live without. But, there was a bellhop who was looking for such a woman and I sent him to her room. The next thing I knew the guy quit his job and is probably now traveling the country as her pet poodle.
"The best trick I ever turned was three weeks ago when a woman who used to be pretty big in the movies came to drop her fifth husband. I won't tell you her name because she appears on television now and then, on panel shows. She's supposed to be some kind of sex goddess but I found her a gabby bore.
"All the studs in the hotel wanted to get into her drawers just to say that they actually fucked a star ... even a has-been star. This dame showed up with a fag hairdresser who left as soon as they had a drunken cat fight. Since she was living in the best suite in the house the management didn't want to bounce her. I think the manager wanted to get into her, too.
"One by one the studs went to her suite and they bragged about what a great lay she was. She was a nymphomaniac which was something I always suspected. She was getting a divorce from a millionaire oil man so she had his loot to toss away as if it were confetti. The kook had no idea of the value of money. Each one of her husbands had been loaded except the first who had been a struggling newspaper reporter she married when she was eighteen.
The super-nympho had run through all the studs the hotel had to offer before she got to me six weeks later and only a day before checkout and divorce time. I guess the reason I didn't try to push myself on to her as the other he-whores did was because I knew, eventually, I would get my piece of the action. She never took on the same guy twice so it didn't matter when I'd get a chance at her well-used body.
"The manager told me that the star wanted me to bring her a coke. 'She asked for the cute, sweet boy,' he smirked, 'so that had to be you.'
"I ignored the bastard because he got his jollies by bugging the studs. I brought the coke to her room and she was wandering around in a nightgown when I entered. She stood in front of a window and I could see right through the material of the gown. She was nude underneath.
" 'Darling, so glad you're here,' she said in that phony accent of hers that seemed to thicken every year of the twenty years she has been in America. 'I'm simply parched. Bring that coke here, dear boy.'
"I walked over to her and handed her the glass of soda. When she drank it she stared directly into my eyes giving me a look she probably thought of as male-melting. Naturally, as a professional stud, I went along with the trick and made believe that she was the best cunt in the world.
" 'How very young you are,' she told me after she finished the coke. 'What is a boy like you working in a place like this for?'
"Yep, that's what the woman said! Can you imagine such a corny line? Men are supposed to say that to girls in cathouses and other dives but this was the first time I ever heard it directed to me. I suppose she picked the cornball line up in one of those B movies she was appearing in on the late-night television movies. I managed to keep from laughing and decided to be just as corny. 'My parents were killed in an auto accident,' I told her. "This is the only way I can make a living.'
"The idiot believed me and patted my cheek. 'Darling,' she cooed and pressed her body against mine. 'You are too young and too sweet for this place. You must meet some awful women; so old and so ugly.'
"I didn't mention the fact that she was no prize package herself. So many people are only aware of the failings of others but never their own. When she lifted her face toward mine I realized that she once had an operation to make it as young as possible. Her skin was just too tight while her neck showed many wrinkles. This is always a sure sign of a face-lifting operation.
" i would like to give you a hundred dollars,' she said. 'Would you like that?'
"A hundred! I never got more than fifty for my tricks. I answered by slipping my hands around to her ass and squeezing. She giggled. 'So young! So young!' she repeated in that phony accent and took off her nightgown.
"She did have a good figure, I have to say that much for her. Her waist was trim and her breasts were firm. I didn't want to examine her tits because I was sure that, like her face, they had been made youthful via plastic surgery.
"When I was naked she grabbed my flesh and played with it. 'Darling,' she said, 'you are really much the man. Are you as virile as you look?'
"Since she seemed to go in for dramatics of the B movie school I swept her off her feet ... literally. I carried her into the bedroom and started screwing right away. My instincts told me that she wanted to get to the meat of the matter right away without any oral frills. She liked to play the queen but, in her heart, she was a lusty serving wench.
"The woman brought her knees up and spread them when I plowed into her. As I had figured she did like her men raw and direct. All those other studs thought that she needed a lighter touch simply because she screwed a few producers and got to be a movie star of sorts.
"I banged and rammed until she lost her accent for an unguarded moment. 'Do it faster!' she urged in a flat, American tone. 'Faster, honey!'
"I held back to keep myself hard for as long as possible.
"She crossed her legs over my body and pushed up against me. Her breath came in short, hot gasps through her perfect nose which, I'm sure, was another product of the plastic surgeon's art. I usually let loose my come at this point but, since she was a hundred-dollar trick, I gave her the full treatment by holding back for a couple of dozen more strokes. Then I spewed.
" 'Damn ... Oh, damn...' she sighed when my hot juice flooded her cunt.
"She wanted to take me along with her as other women had with a promise of getting me into movies. She was shocked when I turned her down. She was not used to having people, especially young studs, say no to her. When I see her movies on the late show or see her do her phony accent on panel shows I get a kick out of knowing that I had her under my balls.
"How many women have there been? I don't know exactly and I don't want to count. I believe in looking forward and not backwards. I plan to make as much loot as I can in the hotel before I run out of steam. Let's face it, I can't be a stud all my life. Right now I'm looking forward to getting behind the wheel of my new sports car. It took a hell of a lot of fucking to buy me that machine."
Reaction: Harry is utterly incapable of having a deep and lasting relationship with anyone. He doesn't even enjoy sex and he goes through the motions like a robot. At no time in the interview did he mention a love affair with a girl his own age and it appears that he has no feeling at all for them. like many teen-aged studs he is hollow despite his strikingly good-looking and sexual exterior.
The boy developed a strong distaste for marriage and, for that matter, any love relationship when he saw how his parents tore at one another. His mother used him as a whipping boy for her resentment of the male sex and Harry, in turn, hated her. He escaped this depressing home life as soon as he was able at the age of fifteen.
Harry didn't care for his father, either, because he felt that he allowed women to make a "fool" of him. The word "fool" kept reappearing during the interview and it is obviously the boy's worst fear. To avoid being made a fool of by women he had decided not to get that close to them. It is very doubtful that he will ever marry, especially after working in a hotel that catered to divorcees ... women who made fools of men.
For a very brief time Harry experienced genuine lust when he was thirteen and his father's mistress seduced him. This did not arouse in him a passion for older women because he learned to hate her for using his father to better her own ends. From that period on Harry decided that sexual lust led males to make foolish errors in judgment, and he managed to destroy this normal desire before the tender age of seventeen.
The boy will be a male prostitute and use women for the rest of his life. While he may appear to others to be a sensual, vital, handsome, lucky young man he is actually old, withered, ugly, and unhappy inside that attractive shell. Harry thinks of himself as being on top of the world while actually he is nowhere, because he cannot love or even enjoy, briefly, his acts of sex with older women.
8 MORGAN age 15
Morgan is a young, thin black boy who lives in a Negro ghetto. At the age of fifteen he has the physical development of a twelve-year-old. Only his dark eyes are old. Morgan is a drug addict and has been hooked for two years. Only the kindness of older women keeps him alive. This interview was taped in a tiny apartment he was sharing with his latest love, a heavy-set black woman of thirty-three. She was at work when the taping was made. Morgan smoked marijuana all through the interview, which will explain his erratic speaking style.
"My woman, Rose, she gave me this pot so it would keep me quiet and off the street. She got me off H (heroin) which I'm real grateful for. I was carrying a forty-dollar-a-day monkey on my back which was getting heavier every day. The trouble with H is that you have to keep taking more and more to get the same kick you got with just a little. My friendly neighborhood pusher first got me started on drugs. He gave the stuff away free at first just to get the kids hooked and, once we were, he asked for money.
"I was living with my family at the time and I was so desperate for junk that I took money out of my mother's handbag. In a family with six kids getting by on a welfare check a dollar was a big item and was easily missed. Once my mother found out I had taken it, she whipped my ass raw.
"I took to stealing and wasn't good at it because I got caught on my first burglary. The court let me go because it was a first offense and my mother whipped me again. She told me that she had enough to take care of without bothering about me. For a while I lived with an aunt but she kicked me out when I stole from her to get junk. She could see the needle marks on my arm and knew what I wanted money for. 'You'll end up in a gutter,' she told me, 'just like my husband.'
"Junkies were always being found dead in my neighborhood and I figured that was how I was going to end up. I didn't care. What was the big deal about being alive anyhow? I failed in school and stopped going. A truant officer once tried to make me go to school but he gave up. When I was picked up for another burglary at the age of fourteen I was sent to Youth House for a couple of months. I was let go because it was overcrowded and they needed the room.
"I went home to my mother but she told me that she didn't want me anymore. I promised her I wouldn't take junk again but she sighed and said that she had heard that before. You see, my father died of junk. I guess that's why she hated addicts including her own son.
"I had no place to turn. None of my relatives wanted me and I had no friends except other junkies. I wanted to avoid them because I really did want to be clean. Man, what's so good about being clean? When you're on something: pot, H, bennies, you're in a different world. Any world is different from this mother-fucker. Oh, hold it a minute ... I got to take another drag..."
(Morgan puffed on his marijuana cigarette for awhile and gazed upward at the ceiling in a dreamy state.)
"That ceiling looks like an overcast sky. I remember an airplane picture once and saw how those planes went through the cloud cover and into the sunlight. Man, I wish I was a flyer. Maybe I can still be one. You have to go to school for that, don't you?
"Shit! I can fly better on pot. It ain't like H, but it's better than nothing. I tried wine once and it only made me sick. It was the same with beer and whiskey. I'll never be an alky, I guess. That's something.
"Rose, my woman, she-likes wine. She's no wino, you understand, she just-likes a glass now and then.
Rose once was on junk and got herself cured. She's one of the few who did. She tells me that all I need is love. Just like that song. (Here the boy sang "All You Need Is Love" for a moment before resuming his story.) Who don't need love? Man, when I was fourteen and running around the streets and sleeping in them I needed someone just to rap with but the only one who went out of his way to talk to me was the pusher. He told me what places I could rob for junk money.
"After I took some clocks and stuff like that out of a store the pusher took it and gave me a fix. He then sold the stuff for much more than the fix was worth. A real bastard.
"It didn't matter to me at the time because I was high at last. I wandered around the streets in a happy state. Then I got the idea into my head that my mother wanted to take me back but, when I got to the house, I found out she moved. I didn't even have a forwarding address so I went to my aunt. She was in bed with a man and wasn't in the mood to listen to her junky nephew so she chased me away. Man, I got low fast. I staggered around for a while and fell asleep in a hallway.
"A woman woke me up. She could see right away I was coming down from a high. 'You boys sure do like to waste yourselves,' she said and took me into her place.
"Her name was Agnes and she was a hospital worker. She was married once but her husband deserted her just after their baby was born. That baby was now eighteen and living some place else. Agnes was in her thirties but acted like a tired old woman. You age fast in the ghetto.
"The woman knew how to take care of junkies and she let me have sweets. Candy cuts down on the craving for junk, you know. Agnes didn't make me go on cold turkey, exactly, but she managed to get me off the H for awhile. She let me smoke pot and even smoked along with me. I wondered why she was being so nice until she went after my cock a couple of weeks after she found me in the hallway. Before that I slept on a couch, but, one night, she gave me the hot eyes and said, 'You'll be more comfortable in bed with me, Morgan.'
"I never did fuck no woman up until that time and I thought, maybe, she only wanted to hug me in bed like my mother used to do when I was small. I knew it wasn't going to be like that exactly when she took off all her clothes.
"When I saw those big, fat titties my cock went stiff. Agnes slipped her panties off and I saw her cunt. She smiled at me and said, 'You get undressed now.'
"I took off my clothes but left my shorts on. When I went to bed she took them off. 'Don't hide all that good stuff,' she said and grabbed my cock.
"Agnes put her arms around me and I felt surrounded by all that dark meat. She felt so warm, soft, and good! The woman didn't get me to lay her for a few minutes and just held me. Then she directed it into that hairy slash between her legs. I went right in and she rolled on her back so that I was on top of her. 'Move up and down, boy,' she whispered.
"I lifted my black ass and pushed down again. I was starting my first fuck. Agnes put her fat arms around me and told me that I was doing fine. I pumped up and down and then shot my come. Agnes kissed my face all over. "This is what you need ... this is what we both need,' she said.
"I slept in her arms with my head between her big titties. It had been the longest time since I slept so nice. In the morning Agnes kissed my body all over. She sucked me until I got hard.
"She had to go to work and left me some money for food. 'Just food,' she told me. i don't want you to go running to no pusher.'
"Well, it was the first time she trusted me with more than two bits and I tried to resist temptation. I had enough to get me a heroin fix and I went out and got it. The pusher wondered where I had been and he said I looked fine. When I said that I had me a woman he laughed. 'What you got that women want?' he said.
"I guess it's hard for most dudes to believe that a grown woman would want a skinny kid like me. I said nothing more and shot the H into my arm. Once more I was floating and got a real great high. This always happens when you've kicked the habit and then come back to it. Your system has to get used to the stuff again. I've known junkies to kick the habit just so they could get a good high with less stuff.
"The fix I got sent me into such an orbit I thought I was living at home again and went to my mother's old place. Some other people had moved in and they chased me away. I finally remembered about Agnes and went to her apartment. Then I conked out on the bed.
"Agnes found out that I had thrown the money away on junk when she came home. She yelled at me for going back on junk. 'I didn't think you had the strength,' she told me. 'I was only testing you with the money and you failed.'
"After screaming at me for awhile she fixed me something to eat and told me to take off all my clothes. She said she was going to keep me naked so I wouldn't go out into the street again. She didn't have to work the next day so she watched over me yelling and hugging me in turns. She took off her clothes and kept saying, 'Junkies don't like to fuck, isn't fucking better than shooting shit in your arms all the time?'
"I guess she wanted to show me how nice it was to screw because that's what she had me do until she went back to work the next morning. I was too pooped out to leave the house and stayed in bed most of that day. When Agnes came in again she had some pot and she claimed that this was better for me than the hard drugs. If I had to have something it was best that I had marijuana.
"Agnes was good to me but I wasn't the only stud in her life. One of her boyfriends was a tough dude in his twenties who couldn't stand me. He wanted to kick me out but Agnes always defended me. Then one night he came into the place when I was wrapped up around Agnes. He grabbed me and threw me out of the bed. 'Snotty kid!' he yelled. "This is too much woman for you!'
"The dude was high on something and, knowing junkies, I got my black ass out of there before he killed me. Man, there I was out in the cold with my clothes over my arms and no place to go. I got dressed and prowled around until the next day. I waited outside Agnes's place until I saw the dude leave. Then I went to see my woman. She was crying and her face was all beat up. 'You can't come around again, child,' she said crying. 'He don't like kids.'
"It sure did make me mad to see my woman beat up and I thought about killing the dude. Anyhow, I left and didn't come back because I didn't want to be the cause of another beating.
"Oh, the world is made of shit all the way to the core! I wish I were a plane or a cloud. I want to leave this world, man! When will they send rockets to the moon with passengers in them?
"After Agnes I couldn't live without a woman. When I told my pusher about being kicked out he grinned and told me that he knew some older women who wouldn't mind having a pretty young stud in their beds. He wasn't interested in seeing I had the comfort of a woman; he just wanted me to keep buying from him. If I found me another woman I would get some more money from her.
"The pusher introduced me to Hannah. She was a domestic for white people downtown and kind of ugly but I didn't mind. She was nice and fat and she had plump titties. Man, I love to suck titties! Hannah was never married and men didn't seem to like her but she dug young boys my age.
"I went to live with her and she called me her 'husband' even though we never married. She had the biggest titties I ever saw with nipples the size of saucers. Hannah liked me to suck on them so we got along real fine. She gave me money knowing that I'd go right to the pusher. This was all right until my habit got too big and she couldn't afford me. 'I don't mind paying for a stud,' she said, 'but, boy, you are just too expensive.'
"Once again I was out on the street. I stole again and got my fixes that way. I never got over the idea that I was still living home with my mother and the people who were at the apartment got sick of chasing me away.
"I met Rose in my old building. She was visiting someone and she had heard about the strange junkie kid who kept coming around. 'Come home with me,' she said when we met and she didn't have to make the offer twice.
"Rose was a lot like my first woman because she wanted to break me of the H habit. She stayed with me when I went through cold turkey and fed me afterwards. 'I don't ever want you to take hard drugs again,' she told me. 'You're lucky the police haven't caught you for shooting H and stealing.'
"As you can see by the pot I've been smoking Rose believes like Agnes that it is best to have a kid on pot if he has to have something. I haven't had H or any of the hard stuff since I've come here to live with Rose. She's a good, strong woman I can lean on. If it wasn't for women I'd probably be dead or in jail by now.
"Rose has the kind of body I love to snuggle up to at night. When I'm in her arms I don't care much for junk. When I lick her titties I'm not afraid any more. Rose says that I'll be a man some day but I'll have to get strong first and she wants to make me strong.
"Yeah, I guess I'm weak. Look at how skinny I am. Man, I wish I were a fiver. I wish I could leave this world. Look at my arms! They're full of needle marks. H is shit and too expensive. Rose is willing to buy my clothes, pay the rent for both of us, buy the food and even pot, but she draws the line at H and other hard drugs. She's right. Where would I be without my woman?
"At least she doesn't have a lot of other studs hanging around her like my last one had. Rose goes for me in a great way. She says she used to like the big boys but now she wants only the small ones like me. She says we're easier to handle and don't cost as much. Since I've given up the hard stuff I guess it don't take much to support me. I'm not one of those dudes that expects his cunt to buy him imagine cars and stuff like that. All I need is a place to sleep, food, some pot, some clothes, and titties to suck on at night. For a stud I'm easy to please. I guess that's why women like me."
Reaction: Morgan is infantile on an emotion level even though he is a boy prostitute and a drug addict. In the early stages of his life his mother gave him warmth and love but, when he grew older and younger children crowded him out of her affections, he ached to return to his former station when maternal devotion was showered upon him. His partiality to breasts reveals how desperate he is for this maternal love. Even though he has engaged in sex on the adult level of fornication he is still drawn to the oral caressing of nipples.
Drugs have a great deal to do in depressing the boy's normal sexual development and interest. At the age of fifteen most boys have powerful erotic drives, but Morgan shows a weak sexual urge. Two years of heroin addiction has eroded away his budding masculinity, and he is now a passive, dependent escapist who allows women to take care of him without returning any real passion. The kind of women he attracts are ones who like to possess and dominate such helpless males. However, Rose seems to be helping the boy which is to her favor. She provides the unfortunate lad with the material warmth that he needs.
As long as Morgan has strong women to depend on the chances are good that he will not return to serious drug addiction. He may, in time, become strong enough himself to assert his manhood and stop depending on older women for support. He is not a stud in the calculating sense but, rather, a lost waif who peddles his pathetic flesh for a few comforts.
9 JIMMY age 16
Jimmy is a tow-headed, blue-eyed boy right off the farm. While he speaks with a rural accent which would make most people tag him as an innocent he has led an extraordinary life of sexual lechery very few adults could match. His story proves that the vice of female pedophilia is not limited to the "decadent" cities. This interview took place, as a matter-of-fact, in a barn.
"Mr. and Mrs. Buka gave me a job here taking care of the livestock. I don't have to burst my nuts working because my real chores begin when I get into the house. Mrs. Buka is forty-seven but she has young ideas and Mr. Buka he's fifty-nine and too old to do much about it ... except bring in hired help. Shoot! Nothing wrong with a woman wanting a stiff pecker. If her husband didn't find one for her somehow she'd go hunting down one herself. It's better this way where a man can keep his woman down on the farm and know just what kind of stud is screwing her.
"I know you city folks think that we on the farm are stupid when it comes to sex. Well, let me tell you, pardner, I've been to your cities and you can keep them. It's you city folks that have all the hang ups about sex. Out here we take it in stride.
"Farm kids grow up looking at sex when they see the horses, pigs, sheep, and all the other animals fucking each other. I was only five or six when I saw my first birthing. A cow gave birth to a calf and I stood there watching. My pa wanted me to look so I could see what life was all about.
"My cousin Shirley gave me my first lay. She was fourteen and I was ten. Shirley and her people were on the farm for a visit. It was a cold night and I had to double up with Shirley to make room. She was sure some wonderful cunt! As soon as we were alone she insisted I take my pajamas off. When I did she played with my little pecker and sucked on it until my juice came.
"Shirley was only fourteen but she told me she had been with boys since she was twelve. A hired hand broke her in and she's been at it ever since. She knew all there was to know about sex and she taught it to me that first night.
"She took off all her clothes and stood in front of me playing with herself. "This is what I want you to do,' she said and pushed her finger in and out of herself.
"I thought she meant with my finger and she laughed when I stuck it in. 'No silly,' she said. 'llse your tool!'
"The girl sucked on me until she got me hard. Then she told me to get on top of her and stick it inside her slit. She put her hands on my ass and said I was to move so that my pecker would do the job. It didn't take me long to get the hang of it and I screwed her until I was panting.
"The girl really got hot for me because she kept me awake for hours getting me to do this and that and doing this and that to me. She showed me how to french and lay back on the bed with her legs spread. She pulled her legs apart and showed me her red clit. 'Suck on that and you'll make me happy,' she said.
"I licked on her bit of flesh and she moaned. I was afraid that someone might hear. I liked the way she wrapped her long, soft, white legs around me. From that day on I've been hung up on legs. When I see a woman walking with her legs bared I get a hard on.
"Shirley wanted me to do it in her rump but I couldn't get my meat hard again. She was so hot to be buggered that she licked my ten-year old meat until it stiffened. Then she rolled over on her belly and spread her butts. I did it the way she wanted.
"If you think that satisfied the girl you're wrong. She kept licking my body and playing with me until
I was ready to yell for my folks. Finally she got tired and went to sleep.
"Shirley kept chasing me around the farm for the weekend that she was there. I guess she was plain crazy for sex. The last I heard of her she's married and has three kids. I'll bet everyone thinks of her as a nice, homebody but they don't know her like I do.
"I had an older brother who was always bringing girls into the barn and screwing them. I used to watch from the hayloft. Once the girl looked up and saw me. She told me to come down. When I did she got me to lay her while my older brother laughed. You see, that's how easy going sex is in the country. In the cities everyone is so sick about it. City people make sex seem so dirty when it is nothing but natural fun.
"My life suddenly changed when my mother died and my father sold the farm. Only a month after my mother was buried he took up with another woman who was young enough to be his daughter. She didn't want to be tied down to a farm so pa sold it and they took off. My brother was married by that time and I had just turned sixteen. I tried living with my father and his new wife in the city but I hated it. To begin with the other kids at school made fun of my countrified ways and the kind of clothes I wore. I told my father I wanted to go back to the farm life and he said I was free to leave if that was what I wanted.
"There's always work to be had for an experienced farmhand and I knew the places that were always on the lookout for a strong boy. I knew of one farm run by a widow named Mrs. Tolliver. She was thirty-six and lonely. I picked her spread first because I had been hearing rumors about her screwing handsome farmhands. If she liked a boy he would get twice the going rate. The extra pay was for the plowing he did in bed.
" 'Why Jimmy,' she smiled when I asked for work. 'Of course you can be my hand! I've always had my eyes on you when you worked on your own place.'
"I knew right away that she was already sizing me up for a screwing. She was twenty years older than me but that didn't matter. It was only in the cities that people made such a fuss about age difference. In the country the only thing that matters is that people made other people happy.
"Mrs. Tolliver fixed me a big meal and asked me a lot of questions about my father, his new wife, and the city. She used to have her 'eyes' on pa right after my mother died figuring that they would be a perfect pair. Actually they would have because their farms bordered one another and they could have made one of the best spreads in the country out of them. But my pa had hot nuts for this filly and went snorting after her. I think he made a mistake because he liked farming as much as I did and as much as Mrs. Tolliver did.
"If pa had married the widow she would be my mother now. It was kind of spooky planning to fuck her, the woman who could've been my father's wife.
" 'Like a drink?' she asked me after I had eaten.
"Well, I was not known as one to turn down a drink, so I let the widow fill up a big shot of rye. She was trying to get me loaded so I'd be in a proper mood for sex. If that was her plan she was wasting her booze because my prick was already stiff.
"Mrs. Tolliver wasn't exactly beautiful but she did have a nice, warm, pleasant face. She was tall, thin, and had long legs. At the moment she was wearing jeans which hid them but I hoped to change that in a few minutes.
"It was nice sitting down in her living room drinking and watching television. She put two glasses of rye away before I was halfway through my first. I guess she was a little shy about trying to make it with a sixteen-year-old neighbor boy. Maybe she even thought I was cherry.
"She put her hand on my knee when she started on her third drink. 'You're a handsome stud, Jimmy,' she said with a slur. 'You'll make a fine husband some day.'
"For a minute I was afraid she was going to propose. While I didn't mind screwing a woman who was twenty years older than I was, marring her was another story. But, that was just the widow's way of putting sex into the conversation. She talked about her husband and complained how he lost interest in her in the last years of his life. Mr. Tolliver had been ten years older than the widow and hadn't been much of a lover when he was young. When he got older he became no lover at all. She told me all this with tears coming into her eyes and I hoped that I wasn't going to get stuck with a crying drunk.
" 'I'm not an old woman, Jimmy,' she told me, 'but I sometimes feel like I'm ninety. It gets so lonely out here by myself. If it wasn't for the company of farm hands now and then I'd go crazy.'
"Well, she was really asking for it now. If I didn't make any advance now she would think I was a fag or something. I finished my drink and kissed her on the mouth. She threw her arms around me like I was the last piece of man on earth.
"I leaned against her so that her back touched the couch we were on. I put my hand on the crotch of her jeans and squeezed. 'Jimmy,' she said, 'you're so fresh.'
"I guess all women have to pretend that they didn't encourage a guy so I let that pass. I slipped my hand up to the zipper of the jeans and pulled it down. She wasn't wearing any panties and her bush was exposed. Again I put my hand on the crotch but this time there was no cloth between my skin and hers. I rubbed her cunt hard and she pushed up against my hand with a moan. The widow was dying to have some sex.
"I was dying to see those long legs of hers so I pulled her jeans off. They were the finest pair of legs I ever saw and I couldn't understand why any man would neglect her. I licked up along both legs and then ran my tongue over her bush.
" 'Oh Jimmy!' she gasped. 'Oh, thank you!'
"The way she acted she hadn't been frenched in years ... if ever. I've heard that some women don't like cunt lapping because they think it's degenerate. That's too bad for them because they miss the best part of sex that way.
"I unbuttoned Mrs. Tolliver's blouse and found that she wasn't wearing a bra, either. Her breasts were so hard and firm that they didn't need any support. The widow didn't have big tits; I've seen a bigger pair on girls my own age. Her nipples were hard and pointy and I sucked each one. When I did the widow stroked my hair and kept whispering my name passionately. If she had had shyness about the differences in our ages it was gone now. I suppose she also realized that I was not a virgin. A cherry kid wouldn't be so forward.
"I was rock-hard so I pulled off my pants. The widow watched when I took off the rest of my clothes. Those eyes that she always had for me were on fire. When I was naked she stared at me as hotly as a man would stare at a naked sixteen-year-old girl. 'What a sturdy boy you are, Jimmy!' she exclaimed.
"I wasted no time in mounting her long, lean body. I rammed in all the way with one stroke. Mrs. Tolliver repeated my name again over and over as I plowed her field. I was so aroused that I couldn't hold back and I spewed into her. She dug her fingers into my back. 'Darling boy!' she sighed. 'Oh, my sweet stud!'
"From then on I slept in her bed and got paid twice what I was supposed to for farmhand work. If I wanted to I could spend all day in bed and have her hire another fellow to do the work but I needed the exercise.
"Everyone knew that I was the widow's latest lover because Mrs. Tolliver had the reputation of a swinger who went after the boys she hired. This made all the other widows, wives, and single women sit up and take notice of me. A healthy young stud always made news. Since they all knew that I no longer had a home to call my own they were willing to let me park my boots under their beds.
"After harvest when I was no longer needed on the farm I could've spent the winter in Mrs. Tolliver's bed still drawing full pay but I had the itch to move on. The widow started talking about marriage and that was something I wanted to avoid.
"I left her bed to jump into another widow's who had been after me once she found out that my body was for hire. I lived with her for a couple of weeks and then moved in with a woman who never had been married but had no intention of living without love. She inherited the farm from her parents and had money to waste. I let her waste some of it on me.
"Mr. Buka, the man who owns this spread, made me an offer when I was in town once. It seems that he couldn't satisfy his wife" any more so he wanted to hire a young stud. That's how directly he came to the point. At the time I was living with the spinster but I was ready for another move since she never let me out of her sight, i bought and paid for you, Jimmy,' she used to say. i don't want you to wander into other pastures.'
"Well, I don't like to be owned even by pretty, sexy women so I accepted Mr. Buka's offer. When I went to his spread his wife gave me the hot eyes. 'He's willing?' she asked.
" 'He's willing,' Mr. Buka answered.
"That's all there was to it. The couple knew me by my reputation now. They knew that, not only was I a good worker but I was a good lay, too. Mr. Buka could've hired any loafer in town to be his wife's stud but he was careful enough with money to hire me because I also doubled as a farmhand.
"Mrs. Buka is short, squat, and had fat, stumpy legs but she's still a good lay. I didn't like her at first but now I've grown used to her. On the first night Mr. Buka said he was going to sleep in another room and wished us both pleasant dreams. He stood up and walked away. It was as if he were saying goodnight to a married couple while he was the single hand. I got the idea that he was relieved that he didn't have to answer his wife's demands for awhile. At fifty-nine he needed a bed to rest in and nothing else. His wife, at the age of forty-seven, wasn't all that old. She ran her hands all over my body and told me to take off my clothes. She didn't waste much time with formalities. She and her husband had discussed me long before the meeting in town so she had been well-prepared for this first night.
"When I took off my clothes the woman hugged me. 'You're so handsome, Jimmy!' she said. 'And look at that thing! I haven't seen one like it in I don't know how long!'
"She took off her clothes and I couldn't lie and say she was beautiful. Her tits hung down and her ass was too big for my tastes. But, once we bedded down I didn't mind her looks.
"The woman was all over me inside of seconds. She was so starved for a healthy lay that I didn't have to move. Mrs. Buka got on top of me and rammed down on me. That fat ass of hers pumped wildly as I lay back there enjoying being raped. I shot off but she still kept pumping as long as I was stiff.
"It was a re-run of my first night of sex with my cousin. The woman just didn't leave me alone even though I was drained. She licked my body from head to toe and chewed my rump so hard that she left teeth marks there. She blew me until I didn't have a drop left to give. I soon understood why her husband was so glad to hire someone else to give her stud service.
"The Bukas treat me real fine. The husband-likes me because I'm a steady worker and the wife ... well, do I have to explain? Once Mr. Buka came into the bedroom to watch me have his wife. He sat on a chair next to the bed while I rammed her. He looked very sad after I was finished. 'Oh, to be young again!' he sighed out loud.
"I don't know where I'll go from here. The Bukas want to keep me on but I get itchy feet when I'm in one place too long. I have all kinds of doors open to me. Mrs. Tolliver wants me back. She promised she wouldn't talk about marriage again and I just might accept her offer. I miss those long legs of hers. The spinster is offering me more money but I don't think I'll climb into her bed again; more money means she has more of a hold on me. If I fucked for cash and cash alone I'd accept her but I like people who give me the freedom to roam.
"Farmhands usually don't make much money but, with my sideline, I've already built up a good bank balance. I figure to hire out until I have enough to buy a farm. I'd like to buy the one I was born on because I've always loved that place. Once I have it or some other farm I'll think about getting married. I just hope I don't screw myself dry before I meet the right girl."
Reaction: Jimmy is the best-adjusted teen-aged stud I've ever met. He is not acting out of psychological disturbance or cold-blooded calculation but, rather, out of a strong, healthy sexual drive. He loves women and girls of all ages, and has no special passion for older females. He can love a teen-aged girl as easily as he can a mature woman. Although he is selling his body for cash he enjoys his "work" thoroughly. The vast majority of prostitutes, male and female, hold their "tricks" in contempt, but this is not so in Jimmy's case. To him sex is as natural as breathing, and he accepts all forms of eroticism as normal functions.
The boy accepted incest with his fourteen-year-old cousin when he was ten years old as the natural conclusion to a male-female relationship. The girl, sexually advanced for her age, introduced the lad to the pleasures of the flesh so well that he felt no guilt about the variety of acts they performed with one another. When his older brother's girlfriend had him fornicate her, this further established his belief that sex should be an unbridled expression of love.
When the boy's father married a younger woman after his mother died he did not resent this newcomer, for he realized that the older man had a normal craving for a girl many years his junior. Being so well-adjusted, the boy did not hold any grudge against his father or stepmother for selling the farm. An emotionally disturbed youngster would've brooded about the loss of the place that spelled security, but Jimmy took it in his stride.
The boy disliked the city because of the sexual coldness and neuroticism he found there, so he went back to the country to enjoy sex in its natural state. Although he has gone from woman to woman for almost a year he had not become jaded or calloused to erotic activity. In time he will eventually reach his goal in buying a farm and marrying a girl he can love.
10 GEORGE age 16
George is as different from Jimmy of the previous chapter as night is from day. While there is a strong physical similarity (both boys are tow-headed, blue-eyed, and muscular) George is a highly disturbed youngster capable of extremely erratic behavior. This interview took place in prison where the boy is serving time for murder.
"I got twenty years for murder in the second degree. If I were convicted of murder in the first I'd be on Death Row right now. I wish I was there. What's so bad about dying? A man throws a switch and you're dead before you know what hit you. Shit! Now I got to spend at least seven years in this place before I'm eligible for parole. And this doesn't mean I'll get out by that time. I can be kept here for the full twenty and be thirty-six before I'm set free. Some of the cons here tell me it was a good thing I didn't get sent to a nut house instead. Once you go there it is as good as spending the rest of your life behind bars because people don't want to let you go if you're called a homicidal maniac.
"I was sent to a mental ward for a bunch of weeks before the doctors said I was sane. They were close to bugging me but they finally decided I wasn't crazy after all. I think doctors are crazy. You're one of those psychologists and you look crazy to me. What else can you call a guy who walks around with a tape recorder to take down the stories of young studs who fuck older women? Are you sure this is for a book? For all I know you're doing this for your own kicks.
"Okay, I'm sorry I said that. If you were a prisoner here you wouldn't be in good humor, either.
"The doctors at the hospital I was at said I have a lot of sick notions as far as women are concerned ... older ones especially. I guess they have to say something because I killed that woman who was thirty-eight years old. The doctors also tried to say I was at least a little crazy when I was a child. How do they know?
"I'll admit my life wasn't like everyone else's. People were against me from the start. One of the first things I remember that happened to me was being locked in a closet for peeing in bed. I was not more than three at the time. Which three-year-old doesn't pee his bed?
"After a while I got to like closets because that's where I went when my parents fought each other. At first I didn't know why they always fought but then, as I got older, I realized it was about adultery; my father had girls on the side and my mother had men. They kept saying they only stayed together because of me but that was a crock of shit. They stayed together because of money. You see, my old man worked at a very conservative firm which didn't promote divorced or single men. I found that out when I was eleven. My parents slept in separate rooms and tried to claim that they stayed under the same roof just for my sake. As if they cared! Hell, they hardly even talked to me.
"I was a loner when I was a kid. I avoided other kids because the whole neighborhood knew about the fights my parents had ... and why. The older people like to talk about the 'why' of the best scandal in town and they did, knowing I was within earshot. They talked about my father and his girls and my mother and her men friends. Sometimes I wanted to hit all those smug faces but I was too small and too embarrassed.
"My old man at least was discreet and had a love-nest on the side where he brought his women. But my mother had her male companions drop around to the house for the neighbors to see. If that wasn't bad enough she used to take them into her bed. I knew when she wanted to make love when she gave me some coins and told me to see a movie. There was no greater movie-goer than I was in those days.
"I didn't know what was going on at first but I soon got the idea when the neighbors snickered as I came out of the house to see a movie or kill time in some other way after one of my mother's friends showed up. They could put two and two together.
"My father knew about the guys she hit the sack with but didn't care. As long as he stayed married he would get his promotions and the money rolled in. While they ignored whispers I couldn't. A kid who was a few years older than I was once stopped me on the street and said, 'I hear your mother is fucking a man at your house.'
"I swung at him but that was the only punch I managed to get in. The older, larger boy whipped me thoroughly. I forced myself not to cry no matter how hard he hit. This, at least, was one way I could retain my dignity. He finally got arm-weary and let me alone. When I went back ot my house my mother gazed at me for a minute examining my face and said nothing. She had about as much feeling for me as a fish to its egg.
"When I was twelve I didn't get promoted because I failed so badly in school. My parents were called in by the school to talk about me but they didn't bother to go. They just didn't care. I stopped studying altogether and cut classes. I spent my time roaming around the streets and the countryside. I liked being alone. The truant officer came to the house and I was forced to go back to school. My mother yelled at me, not for cutting classes but for making the truant officer come. She didn't care how I spent my time as long as I didn't make any waves.
"About the same time my father got the position he wanted at work so he could afford to get a divorce. He was now an executive and a top dog in his company. I, the handy excuse, was no longer needed and my parents broke up. Neither wanted me so I went to live with an aunt and uncle.
"I guess I really went wild then because they couldn't keep me in school and I started looting stuff from cars. The police caught me and I was sent to a juvenile home. My mother and father didn't visit me and my aunt showed up just once to tell me that I was better off in the home and off the streets because she could no longer take care of me.
"I knew that if someone didn't take me out, I'd be in the place until I was eighteen. It hurt me to beg but that's what I did. I pleaded with her to take me out. 'Weil see,' she answered and walked away.
"For the next two years I wrote my aunt begging letters and, finally, she let me come home to live with her. I was so bitter about the way she let me rot in the juvenile home that I didn't spend a night under her roof.
"I was fifteen and alone. But, I was used to being alone and I hiked through the woods, sleeping under trees and stealing food from farms. I lost a lot of weight and I guess I looked like a scarecrow when I wandered into a diner and offered to exchange work for meals. The place was run by a nice enough guy who let me sleep there overnight. When I made enough money I rented a room at a cheap hotel. With the meals I put away at the diner I picked up weight again and filled out. A woman who used to drop by almost every day got friendly with me and she told me that I could stay at her place.
"Her name was Irma and she was a divorcee. Her husband left her the house she lived in and also sent her alimony checks each week so she didn't have to worry about finances or a roof over her head. My boss said she was after my body. I thought he was only joking because Irma was thirty-seven and I was only a fifteen-year-old tramp. 'Kid,' the boss said, 'you'd be surprised how many older women like teen-aged boys. If I was your age I'd go with her. I'll lose a good worker but, because I like you, I'll let you go.'
"When the woman made her pitch the next time, I went with her. She said she needed someone around the house to fix things and she also needed security against burglars. This was just her excuse to get me to live with her, I knew. When I saw the place it didn't need any kind of fixing and, if she wanted protection against burglars, she'd be better off with a big police dog.
"Irma doted on me and talked as if she had lots of words bottled up inside her that had to get out. I knew the feeling but I had stopped caring if someone talked to me or not. Being alone became a way of life.
"You'll have to understand how I was at the age of fifteen. I never so much as kissed a girl, yet, suddenly, the grown woman started to feel me up. I still couldn't believe that she would go all the way. I still thought that she just wanted me as a companion, someone to talk to, but nothing more. Mature women just didn't like teen-aged boys.
" 'Come to bed with me,' she said like it was nothing.
"I gaped at her and followed her into her bedroom. I still gaped when she started to take off her clothes. She grinned at me wickedly. 'Don't be afraid, George,' she said, i'm sure you've seen naked women before.'
"When she was naked I stood there trembling. Her tits seemed so big and there was a clump of black hair between her legs. Irma came over to me and put my hands on her nipples. 'Feel,' she said. 'Aren't they beautiful?'
" 'Yes ... yes,' I managed to say after clearing my throat.
"At the juvenile home the boys used to talk about sex all the time. Some of them even did each other in the mouth and ass to get satisfaction. I never went in for queer stuff since I knew how lousy sex could be because of my parents and their adulteries. The only sexy thing I ever did was jerking off. Yet, after beating my meat I always felt guilty. I did my best to avoid it but the sex talk kept making me think evil thoughts and I couldn't break the disgusting habit.
"When I finally got away from the juvenile home and all that talk, I quit the habit because sex didn't bother me. It didn't bother me until this grown woman took off all her clothes. My prick got hard and I felt as if I were going to shoot a load in my pants. Irma saw the outline my cock made at my crotch and opened the fly. When she pulled my flesh out she stroked it with her hands and I shot juice all over them.
"She didn't get mad. 'Sweetheart,' she said, 'I can see you're worth having around. With a tool like that you don't have to worry about where your next meal is coming from.'
"She actually did want me to fuck her! 'I ... I never ... never,' was the only thing I managed to stammer.
" 'A male virgin!' she grinned. 'Well, it seems I hit the jackpot at last. Take off your clothes, doll. Let me show you how it's done.'
"I wanted to run out of the house and yet, because of the evil that was in me, I wanted her body even more. When I took off my clothes I went to bed with her. Irma kissed me on the mouth ... my first kiss. No one, woman or girl, had ever kissed me before. I put my arms around her and felt her tits against my chest. The woman rolled over on her back so that I was now on top of her. I was getting hard again and I lay against her hairy pussy. Irma kept running her hands over my body, tempting me, seducing me, making me do evil. My hard got bigger and harder until it was sticking like a pole against her body. She nibbled my ear and said, 'Do me.'
"Although I had never done it before I had heard enough about sex to know how to begin. I pushed against the woman's slit and thrust down. I was thrilled when I felt it sink all the way in. Then I lifted up and shoved inside her again.
" 'More, doll," she whispered. 'Harder!'
"I lost my mind, I guess, because my body went wild with evil and I pumped until I got rid of another load of juice. The woman embraced me and held me against her breasts. Her lips parted on mine and she licked inside my mouth. I was so lost to sin by now that I lapped inside her mouth the same way.
"Sin is like poisoned fruit, the kind Eve gave to Adam. It looks and tastes very wonderful at first until the poison begins to kill your spirit. This is how it was with me. I lived with Irma and enjoyed the evil of her body. I lost myself to lust, little knowing that the poison was eating me away inside. Evil must be paid for and my bill was just about due when Irma brought another boy to the house. He was about twenty, a tramp like me she had picked up someplace. His name was Walter and he was so evil that he .didn't mind asking Irma for money when he used her body. Walter was big and tough and I listened in another room when Irma moaned out her passion. I had been with her only two months and now she was committing adultery. How like a woman.
"Walter liked to make fun of me when he found out I used to lay the woman. 'You mean you let this little snot get into your hole, Irma?' he asked. 'You must've been desperate before you met me.'
"Irma giggled. 'Oh, Walter, he's cute,' she answered lying there in bed next to him completely naked. 'Sometimes I just have to have a young boy.'
"Walter gave me a dirty look. 'Well, screw off, kid,' he snapped. 'I'm taking care of this woman.'
"Irma said it was all right for me to live in the house but, as long as Walter was around, I was to stay out of her bed. Hate filled me. It was like that time an older, bigger boy said that my mother was evil and I couldn't do anything about it except get beaten up.
"The tramp lived in the house for three weeks and I used to listen to them from the room next to theirs. Their talk was filthy and disgusting. It sickened me when I heard Irma moan in her lust and the bed-springs squeal. Adultery was a sin and they were wallowing in it.
"Walter kept asking for more and more money until Irma refused to give him all he wanted. They had a fight and it reminded me of how my parents used to scream at one another. Finally Walter stomped out of the house and never came back.
"Irma was all soft and seductive to me again. 'I should've sticked with you, darling boy,' she said with tears coming down her evil face. 'You appreciate me. You don't demand. Come, darling, and make love.'
"She put her arms out to me and I walked slowly toward her. But, instead of putting my arms around her waist I put my hands around her neck. She couldn't scream and I dug my fingers into her flesh. Her mouth opened wide and she gurgled. Irma clawed at me but I still hung on. Then her arms dropped to her side and the whites of her eyes showed. I still kept squeezing her neck because I wanted to be sure she was dead. When I let go she lay in a quiet heap. "That's for adultery,' I said.
"I dragged Irma's body to the closet and threw coats over it. The house seemed peaceful and still because no more evil was in it. I knew that I should've run away but I stayed on until a bad smell came from the closet. Irma's body was decomposing under the coats. I was about to make plans to leave when the police came. Some people in the neighborhood had called them because they didn't see Irma around and I seemed to be alone in the house. It didn't take the cops long to find the body; all they had to do was follow their noses.
"I was charged with murder in the first degree after I told them what had happened. I didn't deny anything. My lawyer said that he'd try to get a not-guilty verdict by reason of insanity. 'Who is insane,' I asked him, 'you or me?'
"When the doctors checked out my brains they found it to be in good shape. I knew that they took their time about it and it was touch-and-go for a minute whether I'd be bugged but, as you can see, here
I am, behind bars. This means I'm not crazy. Can you prove that you're not crazy?
"Maybe I'll be out of here in seven years and maybe not. In another seven years I'll be twenty-three. That's young. I still have a life in front of me. To keep myself from going stir nuts I make plans about what I would do on the outside world. I'd like to build a small boat and travel around the globe. Some people have already done that. I want to be by myself. The happiest times in my life was when I was alone. I only got into trouble when I was with peo-pel. Shit on them all, I say!"
Reaction: George is not insane, but he is a borderline case, which is what made the psychiatrists take their time in deciding what to do with him. Prisons are filled with inmates who could have been sent to asylums but for a single vote of a board of doctors. It is still possible that the minimum of seven years that the boy will have to be in prison may be long enough to change and alter his personality to such a degree that he can function in a free society. The years could work the other way, too, and deepen his disturbance. Since he centers his erratic behavior on older women he may appear quite sane in the all-male company of a prison. The test of whether he has become more stable or not will occur when he's released. And then it may be too late.
George was deprived of affection from the beginning of his life and he withdrew into a shell. Human relations disturbed him so much that he retreated from companionship and love. He developed a disgust for sex when he became aware of the adulteries engaged in by both his parents. Sex and evil became synonymous in his already disturbed mind. When the mature woman offered him sex, his natural instincts came to the fore and he performed erotic acts; and yet, because of his upbringing and neglect, he was convinced he was engaging in "sin" rather than love.
If Irma had not taken on another lover, the boy may have grown to realize that sex was not sinful or evil after all. All he needed was a protracted period of love to heal the many wounds caused by neglect. But, when the only person in the world the boy had ever given his affection to rejected him for another, the always fragile balance of his mind tilted in the direction of psychosis.
George was convinced that his only love committed "adultery" with the young tramp she had picked up. Even when I told him that a couple would have to be married first before either party could commit adultery, he insisted I was wrong. In his mind he had killed Irma for this sin, which made it an act of punishment rather than a crime.
The lad's preoccupation with adultery stems from his early childhood when his parents had a number of lovers. The affairs his parents engaged in caused the boy to withdraw and become defensive. As a very young child he couldn't do anything about adultery, but as a sixteen-year-old he could and did.
11 MICHAEL age 17
Michael is a well-built boy with a classic profile and an engaging manner. Of all the teen-aged studs I've interviewed for this book, he is by far the most professional. Not only does he sell his body to older women, he runs a stud service as well in which he employs five other lads in their teens. This interview took place at his home-and-office, a suite in a fashionable hotel. He conducts most of his business via the phone, which rang several times during the taping.
"If there is a call-girl service why not a call-boy counterpart for the ladies? I've been in business for eight months now and I'm thinking of expanding already. Right now I can use at least three more teen-aged studs, and I'd offer you a job if you were young enough.
"As far as I can remember, I've been on some kind of hustle. In my neighborhood you have to hustle or be hustled. When you're one of a brood of eight kids living in a slum with a father who drank and a mother who was too exhausted to do anything but see that we didn't starve to death, you soon learn to fend for yourself. At the age of five I made my first quarter by watching out for the cops while a bunch of kids swiped tires off cars. At the age of seven I got a dollar from a dirty old man who sucked my cock. At the age of ten I tried to earn some honest money by shining shoes, but I was beaten up by older kids who didn't want the competition. When I was twelve I was busted for burglarizing a candy store. By the time I was thirteen I had a record of arrests from hubcap theft to pot pushing. I spent eighteen months in a reform school and came out as a graduate to the bigger hustle. I spent exactly three days at home and took off for good at the age of fifteen.
"I guess my home state is after me for breaking parole, because I was supposed to see someone once a month for the next few years. Since this meant that I would have to live at home I just had to escape. It was tough enough to find a place to lie down in at home when all the kids were small. Besides, my old man was dying from the booze, and I didn't want to be around to take his place as the breadwinner. For the life of me I can't see why people marry and have loads of kids they can't afford. But my parents were some kind of religious nuts who thought sex was only to be used for procreation. Well, I could see what a bunch of crap that was with my own eyes. Sex can be used as the best of hustles, because it is something everyone wants.
"When I was in the reform school I managed to make things soft for myself by playing up to the queer guards and officials. A lot of queers like to work around reform schools and prisons, because they have all those helpless studs to fuck with. At the age of thirteen I was very good looking, and some of the older inmates wanted to make me their girl. The younger, weaker boys were always being beaten up and forced to fellate them. I knew that my body and looks were my chief asset, so I used sex to make things as easy as possible. I went to the head guard, who everyone knew was boy-happy, and told him that I needed protection from sex assaults. He put his arm around me and said he'd make me his assistant with all the privileges that came with the rank ... and the responsibilities. My responsibilities, of course, was being the queer's prat boy.
"I didn't mind because I knew, as a pretty little stud, I would have to do it to someone, so it might as well be someone who would be of advantage to me. The head guard saw to it that I was not raped in the ass as so many kids were and he let me eat at his table in the mess hall. The guards ate better than prisoners, so I didn't go hungry.
"I played up to the creep who selected boys for early parole the same way, and that's how I got out of reform school before I was eighteen. If it hadn't been for sex I'd still be there now.
"Homosexual experiences are supposed to turn a lot of inmates queer, but this didn't happen to me. None of those creeps I had had sex with turned me on to the gay life. To me sex was just something you use to get ahead and make things easier like money.
(The phone rang and the boy answered it. From the one-sided conversation I gathered that a woman wanted a boy for the following weekend. Michael, in a business-like fashion, thumbed through an appointment book and told her that he would send a boy named Bobby. After some pleasant small talk he hung up.)
"That woman is forty-two and she has a thing for the very young studs. The youngest one I have is fifteen, but I think she even wants them younger. Shit, I'm running a risk with boys between the ages of fifteen to seventeen. But if she offered the right price, I'd come up with a twelve-year-old.
"Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, I'd just sucked my way out of jail. If that reform school taught me anything it was that people needed sex as much as they needed food. There were grocery stores and supermarkets to sell food, but whorehouses that sold sex were not all that common. I thought about pimping, but, at the age of fifteen, I was too young to attract a stable of girls. I thought of hustling queers, but my life in jail didn't make that prospect too attractive.
Then I thought of selling my body to women instead of men. Didn't other women like young studs the way older men like young cunts? It was something that I had never thought of before. And, I reasoned, maybe most people didn't think of it so the field was wide open for a smart hustler.
"I got a job in a car wash to make eating money as soon as I got out of jail, but I always kept my eyes open to see if I could pick a spot to begin my hustle. A woman in her forties always came to the car wash with her new automobile, and I learned from the boss that she was a bit of a lush who was married to a professional man. 'What that women needs is a good lay,' my boss told me. 'Her husband spends almost all of his time on his job and hardly any of it in bed. She picks guys up at bars, I hear. If she were my woman I'd screw her every chance I got.'
"Mrs. Webster became my target. She was good looking with a lush body and expensive clothes. I knew that she had money to throw away, so I made it my ambition to see that she threw some in my direction. The next time she came in, I played up to her as I had with the queer in reform school. I batted my long lashes and made myself seem very sweet. I asked her if she needed a boy to do some work around her place and she told me that a cleaning company already took care of that. Then her face flushed when she realized how vulnerable I was. "There just might be something for you to do, Michael,' she added and invited me out to her home. I knew damned well she picked a time when she was sure no one else would be around.
"It was the fanciest place I've ever been in. My whole family shared a place one-tenth its size, but here was this woman alone and, for some strange reason, lonely. With her loot I couldn't see how she could be lonely. I soon found out she didn't mind exchanging some of her money for sex.
"I gave her the poor-waif bit and she warmed up to me even more. She chucked me under the chin and said, 'Such an attractive boy! I'm sure you have all kinds of girlfriends.'
"This seemed to be a good opening for my hustle so I used it. i don't care much for girls my age ... I like older women.'
"I gave the woman the idea that I was used to sex but, actually, I was a cherry as far as straight sex was concerned. The prospect of having a woman for the first time didn't thrill me; it was just like hustling men.
"Mrs. Webster put her hands on me and she seemed only a minute away from rape. I put my hand on her ass and told her that she was a fine-looking female. It wasn't long before she had me in her bedroom and we were both undressing. All the time she had the idea that she had played me along when, in fact, it was the other way around.
"I let the woman believe that she was seducing me because, out of guilt, she would pay me a lot more than she did any of her adult lovers. When we were both naked I gazed at her tits, ass, and cunt. My prick was erected but I wasn't all that excited. This was business and not love.
"Her breasts were soft, round, and heavy, with large dark nipples, and her pubic hair was jet black and so heavy that I couldn't see the slit. Her ass was wide and on the sloppy side and, from the rear, she reminded me of that head guard who was also something of a cow. I know it sounds like I'm running her down, but she wasn't all that bad looking.
"Mrs. Webster seemed to like my body a lot more than I liked hers, though. She ran her hands all over me again and fingered me artistically. In return I shoved the tips of four fingers into her and moved them in and out. This excited the woman and she put her arms around me. 'So very young! So cute!' she cried aloud.
"We went over to her bed and kissed one another on the lips. As we lay on our side facing one another, Mrs. Webster guided my hard into her slit. She cupped her hands over my ass and pushed. When I was inside her she pumped back and forth. 'Do it to me, Michael!' she begged and rolled over on her ass. "Once I started my first lay I acted as if I had been doing it all my life. What was sex anyhow but friction between two bodies. Doing a man in the back was not much different than doing a woman in front. But, just so I don't sound like a fruit, I'll have to admit I still prefer female bodies to male.
"The woman's dark nipples grew stiff and scraped my chest when I plowed into her. She kept kissing me and running her hands over my back and rump. My come started to demand release, and I shot off when I worked up a full head of steam. I lay on top of her and listened to her pant hotly.
"I was only slightly surprised to find that Mrs. Webster wanted to give me a blow job. After so many experiences with men was it the same thing with a woman? When she opened her mouth I lay back on the soft bed and closed my eyes. It was as if I were back in jail and the head guard was going down on me. I felt the woman's teeth and tongue work on me until it grew again. Once more I shot my load and she swallowed all the come.
"Mrs. Webster got hotter while I was getting colder about sex. After coming twice, how passionate can a guy still be, even a fifteen-year-old stud with his first woman? Mrs. Webster taught me that women are actually much more sensual than men. Women warmed up more slowly but, once they were rolling, they could do it for hours on end before they cooled off. Once a man finished he was on the decline. While my first lay had been fun, I was ready to have a rest, but Mrs. Webster wanted more. She spread her legs wide so that her slit was on display and all but pushed it into my face. Now she wanted a blow job.
"I had never gone down on a female before but, as usual, I went to it like a seasoned whoremaster. I licked the black mat of pubic hair. That's when I discovered her clitoris, that trigger to female lust. Every time my tongue touched that fleshy bud, Mrs. Webster moaned in ecstasy. I sucked hard on her until she wrapped her soft thighs against my face so tight that I couldn't breath.
"We licked each other's body. I licked those big breasts and sucked each of her nipples. When I got stiff again she told me that she wanted me to do her from behind. Mrs. Webster rolled over and exposed her big ass. This time I wasn't even mildly surprised that she wanted a greek job. I mounted her soft rump. She grunted when I pushed. Again I couldn't help thinking of that head guard. One hole didn't differ from another after all. When I shot off it wasn't much of a flow, but I did manage to squeeze out my third orgasm of the session.
"Mrs. Webster started to cool after the greek way. We hugged one another and kissed without much passion. It was now time to talk business. I went into my routine about being surprised a grown woman would seduce such a young boy. This made her properly guilty and she was soon begging me not to tell anyone. That dirty old man said as much after he blew me when I was seven. I got a dollar out of him then and I wondered how much the woman was good for. With careful manipulation I got her to talk price. She offered me fifty dollars. My career as stud to older women had begun.
"The woman wanted me to stay with her, but she couldn't because she never knew when her husband came home. Besides, there were the neighbors. To make it look good I raked up some leaves to show the neighbors what I had been hired for.
"Those neighbors must've gotten the idea that Mrs. Webster was a bug on cleaning because I was out to her place three times a week ... at fifty dollars per session. I quit my job at the car wash and got a nicer room. When Mrs. Webster told me that she had to cut me down to one session a week because her husband wanted to know where all the money was going, I had a choice of going back to the car wash or adding more women to my stud service. I put this problem to her bluntly and she told me about a friend of hers who could use a virile young stud. Word-of-mouth was any business's best advertisement, and that's how mine grew.
"My next client turned out to be a bag of fifty ... but a rich bag. For the same three-way screwing that I gave Mrs. Webster she gave me twice as much. The woman could afford money a lot more than I could afford my precious come, and I started thinking about subcontracting my work.
"The rich, fifty-year-old woman told another friend about my stud service and this one turned out to be the wife of a bank president who needed a boy who was as discreet as. he was passionate. She told me that a gigolo in his twenties once shook her down and it cost her thousands before she finally got rid of him. 'I hope you're not like that,' she said. 'You seem like the decent sort.'
"Well, I'm anything but decent because I had given blackmail serious thought. But, once I shook one woman down that would end the sweetest hustle I ever had. I decided to play the stud service, honestly figuring that, in the long run, it would pay me more than anything I'd get from blackmail.
(The phone rang and Michael talked to one of his studs. He gave him the name and address of a client. It was all so crisp and business-like that one could've thought they were talking about a delivery of machine parts to.a factory.)
"That was Carlo. He's from South America and he's sixteen. I sent him out to women who like tall, dark, handsome Latin Lovers. At the prices I charge these women they can be fussy. Some like cute blonde boys and there are still others who want two and even three boys at the same time. I've sent as many as five boys to the same party ... or sex orgy. Since most of these women know one another there is at least one sex orgy a month with young boys and older women. In a pinch I add my cock to the party, but I'd rather be on this end of the phone. Sex is really a bore.
"After I added a third woman to my list I looked around for a young stud who would help me out. It was easy enough to find a teen-aged boy on the loose but I wanted one who was handsome, virile, sane, and honest. This made my search a bit more difficult. I also ruled out junkies and drunks. What I wanted was a stud I could trust and, more important, that the women could trust. I didn't want a guy lifting stuff at a house or pushing a client for more money.
"I met Ernie in a park. He was fifteen and a runaway. I could see that he was a decent kid from a good background so I took him to my place. By this time I had a three-room suite with a full kitchen. After he rested a night, I made him the pitch about fucking for a living. He said he was a cherry but anxious to change that status. As a matter-of-fact, he had run away from home because he wanted sex experiences. 'Well, Ernie,' I told him. 'You'll get all the sex you want and money besides.'
"I brought the boy to Mrs. Webster because I knew that she would break him in right. She was pleased that I was so thoughtful and took the kid with her to her bedroom. I went out and raked that damn lawn again to make the neighbors happy. When I returned, Ernie was now a man and Mrs. Webster was all smiles. Since I was standing right there I could ask for the fifty. 'Doesn't the boy get it?' Mrs. Webster wanted to know.
"'He'll get his share soon enough,' I told her. 'After all, I hired him on as help and not competition.'
"Ernie didn't seem to care what I gave him because the sex was payment enough. I guess I could've cheated him out of the loot, but good studs, the kind
I wanted, were not that easy to find. When we went back to my suite I gave the kid twenty-five bucks. From then on I went fifty-fifty with all my boys.
(The phone rang again. This time Michael talked to a woman who wanted a boy that night. Michael told her that none were available on such a short notice. From the drift of the one-way conversation I gathered that the woman then asked Michael to be her stud. The slick, young procurer raised his eyebrows at me in weariness as if to indicate that he wasn't in the mood for sex, but he finally agreed to see her that night.)
"That one always calls on a short notice. I keep telling my clients that I don't have that many studs to spread around but they won't listen. Look, a male whore can't perform all the time like a girl. Cocks get weary and limp while a cunt is nothing but a gash. Studs need to have their batteries recharged. What I really should have is a reserve of part-time studs who'll answer these women who need prick on a minute's notice. I may sound out some high-school kids in this city, but that can be dangerous. With kids on their own like Ernie I don't have to worry about them shooting their mouths off to friends, because they just don't have friends. A kid in town is another story. Once he starts fucking for a living he'll bring in his whole class and, in time, someone will tip the deal to the cops and where will I be? As desperate for studs as I am I've got to move carefully. I didn't spend the past two years building up this business only to have it destroyed by hiring the wrong stud.
"Ernie is still with me, and he's very popular with the ladies. He's not the shy kid he was any more, and he's more interested in money than in sex. It doesn't take long for the hottest young stud to get cool. Some have tried to cheat me and I've gotten rid of them fast enough. One guy who seemed to be just right for the stud service talked a client into giving him the money instead of mailing a check out to me as we had agreed on. The bastard tried to shortchange me by claiming that the woman had gotten ill and had postponed the session. Naturally, as a hard-boiled hustler I smelled a fish and called the woman. When she told me what really had happened I fired the guy on the spot. I told him that he could keep what he had taken because that was his discharge money.
"I wanted to beat the shit out of the creep, but I didn't want to get him so mad that he'd go to the cops. It hurt to see a stud and his money walk out my office for good, but that's the game.
"Another stud just got tired of laying old ladies and he walked off with a diamond necklace belonging to his last trick. He wanted to leave in style and didn't care what happened to my business or the woman. Well, she didn't dare go to the police, of course, but she claimed that I was responsible for the necklace. It was valued at twenty grand which I didn't have socked away at the moment so I did my own detective work and found out where the bastard had gone with the necklace. A hustler knows crooked fences by the score. My ex-stud had sold it to this guy for five hundred and the fence offered to sell it back to me for a grand. After an hour of talk I finally got the necklace back when I 'fingered' a couple of houses he could rob. I hated to do it, but I would rather let others pay than let go of my hard-earned money. The fence assigned the houses I had fingered to his most trusted burglars and they cleaned out enough furs, jewels, and other precious stuff to make the trip worthwhile. Since the only houses I knew belonged to my clients I had to throw a couple of them to the wolves. Anyhow, I got the necklace back, and this proved to the woman that I was an honest businessman. She didn't connect the robberies of her friends with the case of the flying necklace.
"While studs come and go, the clients stay on. The only one I had to check off my list moved to another state. I've kept every other woman from Mrs. Webster on, which proves my stud service is a good one. I'm just afraid somebody else might start a stud service in competition with me. There sure as hell is plenty of room for another promoter of young boys, because the older women get hooked on them fast. To a lot of women young boys are like drugs; once they get into the habit of fucking and sucking them they want more.
"Well, one of my boys will be here in a minute to take over the phone. I'll need my rest for that woman tonight. She's forty-nine, and her husband died recently. She had been a respectable married woman for almost thirty years, and now she wants to make up for all that respectability by screwing as many boys as she can get her hands and cunt on. I used to think that middle-aged men were crazy to have sex with young girls, but that was before I started this business. Believe me, doctor, middle-aged women are wild for teen-aged studs, even though the majority of them don't show it. They don't because they're afraid to show their feelings. That's where my business comes in. I introduce these mature women to handsome young studs and collect a reasonable fee. Once other hustlers realize the loot that can be made with stud services they'll blossom all over the country. Hell, women want equal rights with men, so they deserve to have their own whorehouses and boy prostitutes, right?
(The telephone rang. Michael talked to another woman, and I could tell she was requesting the services of a teen-aged stud for sometime in the near future. After Michael put the phone down a handsome lad with blonde hair and blue eyes walked in. The procurer introduced him to me as Lloyd, one of his latest prostitutes, who was going to handle the phone for awhile.)
"Lloyd's been with me for only a month, but I'm thinking of having him set up another stud service in another city. Maybe I'll be over-expanding the business too quickly, but I want to make the loot before teen-aged studs become a drug on the market. With the way mature women are discovering the joys of a young cock, this may happen sooner than I expect. Once teen-aged studs start giving away what me and my bunch charge for, I'll find myself back in the car wash ... or if I don't salt money away now. So, the best thing to do is to exploit the market while it's hot. And, believe me, nothing is hotter today than the relationships between mature women and young studs."
Reaction: Michael, like all of the strictly professional teen-aged studs I've interviewed, is sexually cold. Although he engages in the business of selling passion, he is passionless himself. The boy, though only seventeen, and, supposedly, at the height of his sexual powers, is only interested in women as "clients" and not lovers. To him sex is an element to be exploited and not enjoyed. His only pleasure, it seems, is in making money out of the pleasure of others. He prides himself on finding a profitable "hustle" and has no concept at all of sex in relation to love. Michael may be doing very well as the head of a stud service but, emotionally, he is a pauper.
The boy's hard and depressing background made Michael what he is today. He rejected his parent's belief that sex is to be used only to bring children into the world after seeing how difficult life became in an overcrowded tenement flat where indifference and neglect forced him into the streets. He modeled himself after the older boys who robbed and exploited others. When an old man gave him a dollar for a sexual favor at the age of seven Michael realized that he could use the lust of others profitably. In reform school he learned how to extract advantages from people by submitting to the desires of homosexuals.
Once he was out of confinement, Michael manipulated women in the same way he had men. His success in the field of sexual exploitation has proved to him that love is just another product that people buy and sell. At no time in his life had he ever had a warm, close, affectionate relationship with anyone despite his many erotic adventures.
Michael will go on hustling in some form or another and he will milk his present stud service for what it is worth. A genuine love affair with a girl his own age would enrich him more than the profits he is getting from his sex business but I doubt that he is capable of accepting and returning honest affection. As long as there are mature women willing to buy the bodies of young males, Michael will provide them with his stud service. From what I've seen during my study of the affairs between older women and teen-aged boys, this service will increase rapidly in the next few years.
