There is not one person I can think of who does not have a sexual fantasy. It is, however, the more daring person who will go out and try to live that fantasy, because the fantasy always reveals just how the person wants it.
There are many girls who fantasize about being forced to have sex with one, or a various number of men. They usually dream of being forced to relieve some of the guilt that they might feel from enjoying sex, and on occasion, a fantasy is acted out with some incredible results:
Joan F., fifteen: "I always dreamed of being tied and whipped in this large exclusive men's club. I know that my cunt is going to satisfy all the men, and when I see them with their hard cocks in hand, I lick my lips in anticipation...."
Lois B., fifteen: "Once the pirate has captured my ship, his mates hold me down and strip me. He starts to move his large cock between my legs, and since I'm his prisoner, there's nothing I can do to stop him from entering me . . , . "
Sally B., fourteen: "When I pop out of the cake at the bachelor party, I start to realize that I'm going to really be the cake. The men surround me and hold me as Peter moves his mouth between my legs and starts eating me...."
Margie G., thirteen: "I'm still a virgin, but I know that I'm going to have to be beaten before I ever take a cock between my legs. But once that happens, and the man's forced inside of me, my pleasure just swells...."
CASE HISTORY ONE AGE: Fifteen
INTERVIEW ONE
The first time Joan came to my office she was wearing a white blouse and a red skirt. Even though the outfit was not all that becoming, she still managed to shine through in it and give off an extremely beautiful appearance.
Joan has shoulder-length black hair and large brown eyes. She has high cheekbones and a wide smile. It was that smile which left an impression with me, because it seemed so young and innocent, but behind it all there was a girl who harbored fantasies.
First of all, I never thought that what I used to dream about would happen. It also happened in such a different way from my dream, but the idea behind it all, of seeing all those men watching me as someone was beating me up and fucking me, well, that part was there. In my fantasy, the thing that gets me through the beating is the fact that all the men are there and I can see their cocks.
You wouldn't believe it of a girl like me, would you.
Let me tell you just what my fantasy is, in explicit detail. And then, if you're still interested, doctor, I think I even know why I have those fantasies. In some ways it just helps me get through the guilt I feel about them, at times.
I mean, if my mother ever heard what I'm telling you, she'd freak. She would never think that her daughter, her darling Joan, could have such an imagination. I think that's one of the reasons I feel guilty. I feel like I've betrayed her in some way.
Anyway, back to my fantasy.
In my fantasy, I'm usually led down this long dark hallway. Everything's so ominous. I'm in a castle, like something out of a horror movie, and although I said I'm being led, it's more or less by some kind of a force. There's no one beside me, and I'm naked, scared, and cold.
When I'm scared, my brown nipples usually stand up erect and they're very sensitive to anything. When I'm cold, they're even more perked up and more sensitive, so you can imagine what it's like with a combination.
I'm very aroused already, just thinking about it. I'm also aroused in my fantasy, and doctor, I hope you don't get upset if I start rubbing my legs together. I mean, just talking about it makes me think about it, and that gets me hot.
I'm walking down the hall, and I can hear all these strange noises. One sounds like an owl hooting, and each time it makes a sound my pussy spasms. I feel the sensation from it running all through my body. The fear keeps me going, however, and I know what's going to happen.
The floor feels cold, but I continue to walk. I get the feeling, at times, that I'm walking on one of these exercise things, where the floor just keeps rolling under you as you walk. I am moving, I can tell by all the doorways that I'm passing. They're all large and made of wood, and so thick that I don't even think of trying to enter.
But there are voices, too. Remember I said there were sounds.
Well, some of them are voices, and they keep calling me. My name is echoing throughout my ears, and I know that I'm walking in that direction, toward the voices. For a short while, it's very frustrating because, as I said, I don't think I'm going anywhere.
I usually get very hot just thinking about it. My pussy is spasming right now and I hardly even know if I can go on. But I will. That's what I'm here for.
Eventually, and just before I get too frustrated, I see this large wooden door at the end of the hall. I start to run toward it, and even though I'm running, I don't get there any faster. I do get there however, and I can hear the voices coming from behind that door.
I hardly even think about the fact that I'm naked, and that my legs are a little damp from a slow trickle of my come. I hardly care that my nipples look so stiff and that I'm as horny as I am. I mean, I know by the way my body looks, that whoever is behind the door, can see how hot I am.
But I open it anyway, and suddenly, I'm in a new world.
It's like something out of a movie. I don't even know what period, what year, or anything. All I know is that there are these old-fashioned plush red velvet chairs and a few antique tables. There are all these noble gentlemen sitting in the chairs, and hardly any of them pay attention to me.
They're too busy with the games that they're playing. There's chess, checkers, and backgammon. The whole thing is almost like an exclusive men's club, but out of the past. All the men are wearing suits, tuxedos, and most of them are smoking cigarettes from a cigarette holder.
Then, the main man comes over to me.
I know him by no name other than that. He has short black hair and a calm face. He's dressed like the others, even wearing white gloves.
"Joan, we've been waiting for you," he says to me, and he gives me his arm and starts to lead me up to this small stage.
There's a black curtain in front of it that's closed, and as he starts to lead me behind the curtain, I take what I think will be the last look at the men. Only a few have looked my way, and they're smiling. I smile back, but nothing else is said.
I would think that there would at least be some reaction because I'm not wearing anything, and that bothers me.
You see, I want these men to find my body desirable, and eventually, I know that they're going to. But I have to wait for the curtains to open.
Meanwhile, the main man is beginning to strip off his tuxedo. He doesn't undress completely. He keeps his socks and shoes on, along with his T-shirt. I can see that he has a nice thick cock, even in it's limp state.
I contemplate whether or not I want to touch it, and when I see the look in his eyes I figure that I shouldn't. But I know I can wait.
The main man backs me up against this black piece of wood. He pushes me pretty hard and as I throw my hands up in disgust, he pushes them back. Before I know what's happening, there are these large metal clamps that come out of the board, go around my wrists, then click shut. I'm trapped there.
"Are you comfortable, Joan?" he asks me. "You know that we would be upset if you weren't comfortable."
"I am," I say. "But are you going to force me to do it?"
"I don't have to tell you the answer to that," he says to me. "You know what's about to come, so don't play smart with me."
He pinches my nipple, and since he's still wearing his white gloves, I feel the fabric, rather than his flesh. I don't mind it, but I wish that he would touch me. I wish that he would touch me and make me go down on him or fuck him, or something.
As soon as I think that, the curtain opens.
The room has changed a little. Oh, it's still the same with the large portraits on the walls and the club-like atmosphere. But the plush chairs are all facing the stage, and as I look down I see that every man in the audience has his cock in his hand.
Sure, not all of them are hard yet, but I know that I'm going to get them all hard. I know it. I have that appeal.
The main man steps back, snaps his fingers, and suddenly, he's holding a whip in his hand. He looks at the other men, and they start to cheer. He pulls his arm back and then whips me across the belly. I feel him whipping me again and again, and no matter how hard he does it or how much it stings, it still feels good.
He's not really cutting me so that I bleed, but he's doing a good job on beating me. There reaches a point when it does. start to hurt, and then his glazed eyes look deeply into mine, and he screams at me.
"Look at them, Joan. Look what you're doing for them."
I turn and look at the men in the audience. Each and every one of them now has a hard cock, and I've never seen so many hands jerking up and down in my life. And I know that they're going so fast because I'm turning them on, and that makes me feel so good. So fucking good.
So good, in fact, that I hardly even feel the whip hitting my flesh, even though the main man hasn't stopped yet. If anything, he could be whipping me faster and harder than ever, but I hardly even notice it.
"How dare you leer at them," he screams at me, and then I get scared again. "But you know, the more you leer at them, the more they're going to want you to do more for them."
"How much more can they expect?" I scream.
"I lot more. A hell of a lot more."
He turns and calls two of them up. He always calls them by name, but, for some reason, I can't remember any of the names.
The two men are dressed in a similar fashion to the main man, with the socks and shoes and T-shirts. They walk over to me, and then they reach down on the floor.
Suddenly, I feel my legs being manacled. They're putting these large manacles around my ankle, and as I try to move my hands to protest, I realize that my hands are free. I turn around to look, and the black board that I was cuffed to before has fallen back on the floor.
Now, I'm manacled with room in front of me and behind me.
"You're going to have to pay for doing that," one of the men says to me, and the thing that he's referring to as 'that' is his hard cock.
I remember him as one of the men who wasn't hard when I was first brought in and know that he's right. I did make him hard. At least when he watched me I made him hard and that excites me. It excites me so much.
You're not going to believe this, doctor, but that's all that excites me.
The fact that I made these men hard does a lot for me.
But after that, it scares me. Because I see that man with his cock, and he's walking closer and closer to me. I'm pushed forward so that my ass is up in the air and I balance myself on my hands.
The man moves his cock right to my mouth, and as I open it to gasp, he shoves his meat into me. I feel it thrust all the way down my throat and I gag for a few seconds, but he realizes it and starts to thrust at a steady pace.
He holds my head, and each time I moan, he pinches my cheeks. Then I hear the other man behind me, not the main man, but the second one who came up with the first.
"You did this to me, also," he says.
I feel him rubbing his cock against my ass-hole, and I want to scream. I've never been fucked in the ass doctor, and I don't know why I think about that. The idea of it now has just brought me out of the fantasy, and sometimes it does that. But I usually just forget about it.
Because the guy. does start to fuck my cunt. He doesn't fuck my ass. He just rubs his cock there as if he's threatening me, and just as I think he's going to ram himself in and really kill me, he changes his mind and just fucks me from behind.
My back is parallel to the floor, because of the way I'm bent over, and all that flesh is exposed because of the way my two fucking partners are holding onto me. The guy who's fucking me from behind is holding onto my hips, leaning back, and groaning hard as he fucks me. The guy who's fucking my face is bent forward a little, but he knows that he has to move back.
I hear the sound of the whip flying through the air again, and then it lashes my back.
At times, it starts to hurt. It's hard taking in two cocks and being whipped at the same time. But each time the main man sees a look of hurt on my face, he starts telling me to just look at them, look at them!
And when I turn and look at the men in the audience, I see all these hard cocks. I see a drop of come on the tip of each one, at least once, and sometimes more. For I'm constantly turning back to look at them, moving my eyes really, because my mouth is stuffed with this big cock.
It's the most incredible thing. I'm coming so hard that I can't even believe my legs are holding me up. I don't really like the fucking all that much, but I just can't stop coming. At one point, I look into the audience and I see that one man is starting to come. A few of them do, and it eases my mind.
Because I know, just as the man in my thought starts to shoot his sperm deep down, that I'm probably going to have to take on every man I made hard.
That's what happens, too. The main man keeps calling others up to replace the ones who come, and my cunt is swimming in sperm.
My mouth is a different story. I do love the taste of come and I've had so many loads halfway through the night, that I love it even more. I think that I could probably suck off all the guys once more.
And the whipping hardly bothers me. In fact, it makes things a little better because it makes me feel like I'm being punished for doing what I'm doing, at the same time that I'm doing it. I know that might sound crazy, but sometimes, when I have these sex thoughts, I feel guilty. If I'm being punished at the same time, I just don't feel as guilty. That's why I'm able to take on almost every one.
By the time I'm up to this part in my fantasy, doctor, I've usually come three or four times. That's how good it works for me.
And there are changes, believe me. It's not always the same. Sometimes the chairs that the men are sitting in are plush green velvet, and whenever the curtain opens and I'm tied up on stage, I notice that different men aren't hard.
You see, in my dream, it's the men who I arouse when I'm being whipped and moaning at the same time, it's those men who I have to satisfy first. So there is a change. Sometimes I work on some men, and not others.
Also, there are always different men there, although there are some of the regulars. My father is there, and my uncle is there sometimes. My brother shows up on occasion, and of course there's Doug and Donald.
In fact, Donald reminds me a lot of the main man. They both have that sleek black hair and the same smirk.
Right before the fantasy ends, the main man takes his turn with me. He has the biggest cock of all, and I haven't really noticed that until the others all back away. Then I see that we're the only two on stage, and the piece of meat between his legs is as thick as a bologna. It's almost the same color, too.
"I can't," I say to him, "I can't take that in. Please, don't make me take it in. You'll kill me with something like that."
"Joan, I've already beaten you enough. I've beaten you enough until you took on the others. I made you do it. I'm tired of beating you, so I'm just going to make you do it. I'll make you do it."
As he talks, he's rubbing his cock against my cunt from behind.
He grabs hold of my hips and then forces his way into me. I let out a shriek of pain but for only a second. After that, it's just all pleasure. I look back into the audience and every single man has a hard cock again.
That's usually around the time when I come out of it. I usually faint while the main man is fucking me because his cock is just so big.
When I wake up, my fingers are always in my cunt. Sometimes I have three or four, and once, I must have gotten so carried away because I almost had my entire hand up my cunt. I don't have such large hands, but they're still pretty wide.
Almost as wide as the main man's cock.
Now doctor, there are some things that I understand in my fantasy. I could explain a lot of things to you because I haven't had too many sexual experiences, but the ones that I've had make me realize why I want other things.
I mean, there are parts of my fantasy that even freak me out. For instance, I've never really seen a room like the one I'm in before.
Not in real life, and it's whole combination of rooms from different movies. It's not one particular room. Plus, when I'm first walking down that hall, it usually scares me. I don't really understand why that fear makes me come so hard that I'm dripping before I walk into the main room where all the men are sitting. I don't know why.
Even the idea about being whipped bothers me, because I've never been whipped. Well that's really a lie now. I have been whipped once.
Donald did it to me. You see, I told him all about my fantasy and he thought that we would be able to act it out in a way. Of course, there had to be some changes, but I did find myself, one afternoon, tied and being whipped in front of an audience of men with hard cocks in their hands.
INTERVIEW TWO
The second time Joan came to see me, she was wearing a tight sweater and for the first time, I could see what nice, firm breasts she had. She also wore a pair of tight jeans, and even though she looked younger than she had the first time, she also looked much more attractive.
Joan seemed quite eager to talk about having her fantasy acted out, but I suggested that before she begin that story, she should tell me about her first few sexual experiences since she said there were some similarities between them and her fantasy.
I think you're right, doctor. I should tell you about the first time. It happened in this old deserted house across the street from where I lived. I was going with this tall, skinny guy named Doug, and he was the one who suggested that we do it there.
That was because we had talked about doing it for so long, but didn't have a place. Doug was a really horny guy, and I had sucked him off many times before actually letting him fuck me. I know that I like come a great deal because of Doug's cock.
When he suggested that house, I went along with him, pretty much against my will. I thought that the place was dirty, and it scared me. Still, I told him I'd go, and he took this flashlight. We broke one of the boards over the broken window and then climbed inside.
Doug took my hand and started to lead me up this rickety staircase. I asked him why we just couldn't do it downstairs, and he said that there was probably an old bed up there that we could lie on.
Well, I was scared, and even though he had this flashlight, it didn't seem to be giving off much light. It seemed like we were walking down the hall for days, and then he finally opened the door.
There was this large bed there. It looked like it was covered with dust, but that didn't bother Doug. He took the sheet off and then lay down on the bare mattress. He pulled me over and started to kiss me, undressing me at the same time.
When I felt his mouth on my tits, I was a little scared. I thought that I heard some kind of a noise in the room and pulled back.
"It's nothing," he said to me, and then he started to kiss his way down to my pussy, pulling off my pants, too.
When Doug started to eat my cunt, I came a little. It was a lot less than I had come when he would finger me, and I think that I even felt guilty then, because I knew that I was going to lose my cherry. I was only thirteen at the time.
Doug started to strip off his pants, and then, as he kissed his way back up my body, I felt his hard cock sliding up, too. I felt him moving it to my cunt lips and rubbing it back and forth over them.
"I'm going to go in hard," he said to me.
"It might hurt for the first few seconds but I know that you can take it."
He thrust his way into me, deep. At the exact moment when he broke my hymen, I was looking down at the floor.
I had been right. There was something there, and we were being watched. There was this small black mouse on the floor, and I could see him looking at us with his eyes. They seemed to be glowing in the dark room, and I couldn't take my eyes off them.
I concentrated on those eyes during my entire first fuck. Sometimes, when I blinked and opened them again, it seemed like there was more than one set of eyes. I started to think that maybe there was this whole mouse family.
I thought that they were all watching me fuck.
Doug seemed to be fucking me pretty well, at least for himself. I heard him grunt a few times, and then his cock started to shrink. He had come inside of me and I hadn't even felt it. In fact, I'd felt very little from the whole thing.
I didn't tell him that, however. My first fantasy started a few nights after my first fuck, and that's when I started thinking that there were all these people watching me. I didn't think about the men until later. At first, it was just a group of people.
I know that I was thinking about those mice as people. I can't help it. I just watch a lot of cartoons, and when I look at mice I can't help but think that they have little brains and they know how to communicate with men and understand men. That's the way it always works in cartoons.
It's so childish to think like that.
The next few times I started to fantasize about being watched, the beatings started to work their way in. Unless I was being beaten, I wasn't enjoying the sex.
That wasn't exactly how it was happening in real life though. For Doug was fucking me pretty steadily, in a friend's apartment (and not that house, which I told him I'd never go back to), and he was a good fuck.
I would have good orgasms when he fucked me, but then, I would always shower at least three times because T didn't want to smell of sex when I came home. My mother has a nose like a blood hound.
The first time I dreamed that I was being beaten was after a fight with my mother. She had no idea that I had been fucking while I was out, but she did suspect it. The fight, however, was basically about my being out too late at night.
That look in her eyes scared me, however, and as I tried to fall asleep after the first fight, I dreamed that I was being beaten. Isn't that strange?
Well, other things gradually worked their way into the fantasy. But now, it's a pat fantasy and it usually happens the same way most of the time.
Now I have to tell you about how I acted it out. I met this guy named Donald in a group session at school. They were trying to be real cool and show us kids that they were hip, so they had this class that was almost like an encounter session.
Well, one day, people had to start talking about their fantasies, and when it got to this guy Donald, it was plain and simple.
"I like to think about tying up the girl I'm with and whipping her. No particular setting or anything like that. Occasionally I hurt her with a lash, and then again, I don't. Still, thinking about it right now makes me hard."
Everyone cracked up when he said that, and the teacher who was running the session didn't think that it was so funny. But he was glad for the laughter as a relief, so he could just go on to the next person.
After class, I walked, up to Donald and I told him that part of my fantasy involved being held captive, in some way, and being whipped at the same time. I had lied about my fantasy when I had to talk in class because I just didn't want to be that honest with them, and Donald smiled slyly as I told him the truth.
I would tell him one thing, and then I just started to tell him everything. He was pretty interested, and after school was over, he took me out for burgers. Then, he took me back to his house.
Both of his parents worked, and he was an only child. It was easy for us to go up to the bedroom and start to make it with each other. I liked Donald's body. He had some fine black hairs all over his chest and a cute little cock.
It wasn't the biggest I'd ever seen, but as I learned from him, it's not the size that counts, but how you use it.
When Donald would start to enter me, he would grind his cock around a little so that it rubbed against my clit and sent the most thrilling sensations through me. I was like putty in his hands, for once he had me going, he knew just how to make it build and build and build. I can't remember ever being with Donald and suddenly losing all my sexual feelings because of something. That used to happen with Doug.
With Donald, it would always build to a climax.
And usually, he would still be hard and it would continue to build again. I loved it, and I loved him, and that was one of the reasons why we could talk so honestly with each other, and definitely one of the reasons why I agreed to do it with him.
We started to talk about it one afternoon after we had been fucking at his house. He walked to the closet and pulled out a leather belt.
"Do you want me to whip you?" he asked me.
"No," I said.
"But you told me that was what your fantasy was. Why don't you want it?"
"My fantasy was with a whip, not a belt. There's a difference."
"Would you let me whip you if it was a whip?"
"I don't know," I said to him. "I don't even want to think about it."
"But you said that was your fantasy. Hey, sometimes when I'm fucking you I start to think about what it would be like to whip you. To hit you. Just like I told you in school. That's what I want to do."
He was playing with my cunt, fingering me, and that made his desire sound a little bit more reasonable. Anything did, when I was being fingered by Donald.
"We'll never be able to do mine, though," I said to him. "Mine has plush sets and costumes. And because I can't do all of it, I don't want to do any of it."
He pulled his hand away from my cunt and turned his back on me.
"That's ridiculous, Joan," he said. "Most people have such bizarre fantasies that nothing can be acted out, but when you have one where you can do some of the things, you might as well do what you can."
"One thing?" I asked. "If I was going to be whipped, I'd like to at least have all those men there to see."
"Do you want me to ask some friends over?"
"No," I said to him. "It's not the same. Just forget it."
He moved his mouth to mine and kissed me on the lips. He pushed me down on the bed and started to mount me. I couldn't wait to feel his cock moving into my cunt, but he just rubbed his cock head over my cunt lips, almost like he was torturing me.
"Aren't you going to enter?" I asked.
"Yes," he said. "But there's only one thing I want you to know. I'm not going to forget it. I'm just not going to."
A few days later, he suggested that we take a ride into the city. It was pretty late at night, and he decided that he wanted to go see one of those Forty-second Street sex shows. You know, where they have the couples live.
Well, I didn't know that his friend owned the place until it was too late. Donald paid for two of us, like a regular customer would, and then we walked inside.
I could see that there was this blonde guy on stage fucking a redhead. Well, I couldn't see if they were really fucking or just acting like they were because we were too far back. I had always thought that it would be illegal to actually do it on stage.
I looked around the audience, which was dimly lit. I was practically the only girl there, and as I looked down aisle after aisle, I could make out a few cocks. Of course., most of the men in the theater were a little more discreet. Some of them had their hats over their dicks, or a coat.
But it wasn't too cold out and there were some men who didn't have coats. When I looked in their laps, all I could see was dick.
My cunt started to pulsate gently when I thought about it. I rubbed my legs together, and all of a sudden, this rush of passion came over me. It was a part of my fantasy coming true, and I wanted more.
"Wouldn't it be great to be up there performing?" Donald asked me.
"I think it would be," I said. "Just thinking about turning all those men on turns me on a great deal."
"Do you want to go up there?" he asked me. "We can, you know."
"What?"
"Sure. Come on this way, Joan. Come on."
Donald led me down this long, dark corridor. It was one of the fire exits in the theater, and it was almost pitch black. I didn't know how he knew where he was going. However, I just felt something covering my eyes, and then all these hands grabbing at me. I could feel my clothes being stripped off.
"Don't hurt her," I heard Donald say.
His voice was really the only comfort to me. If I hadn't heard it I would have thought that he deserted me and I think I would have started to scream. But then, I could feel myself being pulled through this curtain, and I could hear a lot of sounds. It seemed like your usual backstage chatter, and I sensed that I was being led on stage.
However, I was completely naked, and since there was no reaction from the audience, I sensed that the curtain was still closed.
I know that they showed movies there between the live acts, and I could hear some loud moaning and groaning that seemed to be coming from everywhere. I figured that it was from the movie. We were, you see, behind the screen.
"Ten minutes," I heard someone say.
"All right, Joan," Donald's voice told me. "This is not going to hurt you. In fact, I think that you're going to have a piss of a time. Just hope that no one you know is in the audience today."
I started to laugh when he said that. Then there were five minutes left, then four, then three, two, and one.
As the curtain opened the mask was pulled off my face. My arms and legs were shackled to this huge round wheel, and as I looked out into the audience, I could see all these scummy looking men.
That was the difference between the men in my fantasy and the men who were there when I acted it out. The ones in the fantasy were so much more upper class, while the ones in the theater were scum.
But as I looked in their laps, I could see all those hard cocks, and that was all that mattered to me. My pussy started to spasm and I could feel my cunt dripping. I looked between my legs at my thick brown pussy patch. It was wet, and there was some cunt juice dripping down my leg.
I looked over at Donald. He was wearing a T-shirt and boots, and he was holding a whip in his hand. He spun the wheel around, and I felt like I was on some kind of a ride. I was getting a little sick on it.
Donald started to whip me as I spun. I could feel the whip hitting me all over my legs and belly, and he somehow managed to avoid the tits. I was pretty happy about that because my tits are very sensitive.
When the wheel stopped spinning, I was able to look out into the audience again. I saw all those men getting off on me, and that just made me tingle with pleasure. I started to moan, and Donald whipped me harder.
"You're going to suck my cock, you bitch," he said to me, and I could hear a few people applauding. They were my captive audience.
"Not on your fucking life," I said to him. I couldn't believe how much I was getting into playing this part.
"I'll force you," he said. "I'll force you and make you do it."
"Nothing you do to me can make me do it," I said.
He reached over and pulled my hands free from the shackles.
He bent me forward, then moved his swollen cock to my lips. I kept them closed because I couldn't help but think that I would be arrested.
I didn't even think that Donald was allowed to have a hard-on on stage, much less an orgasm. But he plowed his hard dick against my lips and I eventually opened my mouth and took him all the way down.
I started to squeeze his balls and I knew that it wasn't going to be long before he was coming in my mouth.
I could already taste a few drops of come seeping from his cock head, and I savored the flavor on my tongue. I couldn't wait for a full load to fill me up. I glanced at the men in the audience.
One guy in the first row started to come as soon as I looked at him, and when I winked, he smiled, continuing to jerk his cock at all times. That was the best part about it. All those hard cocks because of me!
And there as one thing about acting out the scene that was a little better than the fantasy itself. I knew that I wouldn't have to take all those men on. I knew that the only one I was going to have to bring off was Donald. They couldn't very well start herding all those bums up on stage.
I put more effort into my cocksucking because of it, and Donald started to whip my back a little bit more. I could tell from the throbbing of his cock that his orgasm was only seconds away.
I moved one hand to his ass-hole and started to finger him, and that was enough to make him shoot hard. I felt the first load of come shooting down my throat, and I pulled back as I prepared for the next one.
However, Donald did something unexpected. He pulled his cock out and shot the rest of his come all over my face. He had shot out everything before I could get him back into my mouth, and I was pretty pissed about it.
The audience started to applaud as the come started to drip down my cheeks, and then the curtain began to close.
"You were sensational," he said to me, and he pulled the shackles off my feet in time for me to take a bow with him as the curtain opened again.
I looked out over the audience, and, unlike the end of my fantasy where everyone is hard again and waiting, there were quite a lot who were limp. I'd say that it was about fifty-fifty, and I could understand why some of the men wanted to hold off.
There were a lot of acts after us, and each person has his own thing.
Well, that was as close to acting out my fantasy as I ever came, and it was pretty good. I wouldn't say that it was the best orgasm of my life because the people at the theater weren't as classy as the people in my fantasy.
Also, I didn't like the idea of having come shot on my face, rather than into my mouth, but Jason, the guy who owned the theater and who was a friend of Donald's, told me that Donald had to do it that way.
The men in the audience like to see climaxes, and since a woman's isn't always visible, they at least want to see the man to know that the woman really brought him off.
Ever since that experience, however, there have been a few changes in my fantasy. Occasionally, one of the guys does come on my face, and a few of them now come on my body, so that by the time the main man is fucking me, I'm usually dripping with come.
I also noticed, the other night, that there was one ass in my dream.
I guess I'm being a little more open-minded by allowing people from different social classes to be in my dream.
But one day, I hope that it happens just the way I dream about it. I know that it can, if I meet a rich man who has rich friends and belongs to a chic club. It doesn't have to be the same exact club. Anything similar will do.
Just the thought of it now is making me start to come again, so you're going to have to excuse me doctor. Maybe I'll see you soon in my next fantasy.
CONCLUSION
Joan's is one of the most complex fantasies I have come across in years. Yet there does seem to be an answer for almost every part of it.
The long hall that she walks down at the beginning is reminiscent of the long walk she took through the deserted house, just to find the room where she would lose her virginity. Her exhibitionist trait has probably always been inside of her, but it was brought out quite strongly when she saw the mice witnessing her first experience.
After that, she always wanted to be seen, preferably by human beings.
All exhibitionist get their thrills when they know that they are arousing the voyeur who is watching them. Joan is no different. The thing that turns her on the most is knowing that the men who watch her are hard.
Finally, there is the most important aspect, which is the force that is used to make her perform. Whether she is tied or just being made to go down, there is still force involved, and it's easy to tell that the force is necessary so the girl doesn't feel guilty about what she's doing. She talks of guilt a great deal, especially after talks with her mother. A girl can always justify a forced entry (and feel no guilt) by telling herself that she didn't want it but can't do anything about it.
That seems to sum Joan up quite well.
CASE HISTORY TWO
SUBJECT: Lois B. AGE: Fifteen
INTERVIEW ONE
Lois B. is a happy-looking young girl with long brown hair and a winsome smile. Her hair is a light brown, and looks quite soft. She has bright blue eyes, however, and from the looks of them, she seems quite sensitive.
When she came to see me she was wearing a short skirt and a tight blouse. She had a very well-developed figure for a girl her age, and as she sat down to talk, I could tell that it was going to be hard for her.
Still, she seemed persistent.
I've had this fantasy for a long time, and I've only had sex with a man once. I didn't like it too much, and maybe that's why I sink into this fantasy. I don't really know, but I think that I should tell you about the first time I had sex before I tell you about anything else.
I had met this guy named Mark at an amusement park. One of the things that attracted me to him in the first place was the fact that he looked like a pirate. You see, pirates have a lot to do with my fantasy. I dream that I'm on a boat and we're boarded by pirates, and they take me away and abduct me.
Well, Mark was working at the pirate's island in the amusement park, and he was dressed just like a pirate. He had wavy black hair and a thick moustache and beard. He was even wearing the swashbuckler pants and shirt. You know, those shirts with the baggy sleeve and tight cuff. '
It was opened enough at the top so I could see a few hairs on his chest.
I knew that he was coming on to me from the moment I stepped onto the pirate's ship, and usually, I don't let guys come on to me.
But Mark was just like the man I had fantasized about, and so, as he started the tour and looked right at me, I winked at him. After the small trip was over and we were heading back to the dock (after all, it was just a fantasy pirate ride) he jumped off after me.
"Hey, could I have your phone number?" he asked me.
"Sure," I told him, and that night, he called me and asked me out on a date.
When Mark came to pick me up, I was a little disappointed. He wasn't wearing the same outfit that he had been wearing at work, and I was just as scared of him as I was of all the other boys who had tried to get me.
I mean, when he was dressed as the pirate, I wasn't too scared of him, but when he looked like a normal guy. I was.
We went to a movie, and after that, he suggested that we go back to his place. He had a bottle of wine on ice, and we were soon getting so high that I hardly even knew he was touching me. He moved his lips to mine and then climbed on top of me. For a second, I got scared and I pushed him away.
"All right," he said. "We'll do it nice and slow if you want it that way."
I was too scared to tell him that I wanted him to force himself on me and force me to do everything, just the way the pirates did.
So I just drank some more wine so that I could relax. He started to undress me, and soon he was kissing my nipples. They felt good in his mouth, but I knew that I shouldn't have been doing this, ft was wrong.
I live with a spinster aunt since my parents died. I know that she's a little backwards on her views of sex, but she was the only one I had to teach me about it.
Mark kissed his way down to my pussy and started to spread my legs. He pulled my pants and panties off and then began to lick my cunt lips. I could feel myself getting wet and I started to get excited.
Then, I pulled his head up again.
"Please, you can't go on," I said to him, which is one of the things I always say to the pirate in my fantasy. "Stop."
"All right," Mark said. "We'll go even slower."
I think that, if he just started to hit me and continued, I would have loved it more than having him just stop and agree with me.
He waited a few minutes, resting his chin on my cunt, and then he started to kiss me again. Soon I could feel myself on the verge of my first orgasm. I closed my eyes and it was rather pleasant. It was nothing great, but nice.
Mark started to slide up my body after I had one orgasm, and I could feel his hard cock rubbing against my leg.
"Are you really going to fuck me?" I asked him.
"Yes, but I'll do it nicely. You'll see. I'll do it nicely."
I felt him rubbing his cock, head against my cunt lips, and I thought of pushing him off me But then I figured that he would probably tell me we'd take it slower again. I would have liked it if he forced himself into me.
But he wouldn't have done it. I could tell, just by the way he was acting. He slid his cock into me slowly and I could feel it pressing against my hymen. I thought that I was going to die from all the pain.
But Mark just pulled back gently and forced himself in. It was like nothing.
I felt a shot of pain, and that was all. It reminded me of when you pull a band aid off and the scab comes with it. You get a quick shot of pain that only lasts a second, and that's it.
Well, I had some pleasure with the fuck, too, but not as much as I have when I lie in my own bed and masturbate to my pirate fantasy.
I could feel Mark's cock rubbing over my clit and that was making me wet. I wrapped my legs around his ass, only to make things happen faster.
I just wanted to get the fuck over with, once it had started. It's never like that when I'm in my fantasy. Then, I can let the fuck go on for hours and hours. But then, I'm being forced and there's absolutely nothing I can do.
Here, I was willingly taking him in. When his cock started to shoot into me, I screamed in pain. Mark looked at me like I was a little crazy, and I really don't blame him for the look. I don't know why I screamed when he came.
I just felt the come shooting in my cunt and mixing with my own juices, and Mark continued to pump until he went limp.
He slid down between my legs and started to eat me.
I started to playfully pull on his hair, and I was trying to make jokes so that I wouldn't start to cry. I knew I couldn't explain tears to him.
"Oh, Mark, did you have to be so cruel?" I asked him. "Did you have to just take me this way, without warning. Without anything but force?"
"Did I hurt you?" he asked me, looking up. I could see that his chin was dripping with a combination of cunt juice and cock cream. "Lois, I never meant to hurt you. If I did, I'm really sorry."
His apology did nothing but leave me even colder. I didn't want him to apologize to me. I wanted him to get hard, hit me, and then take me again.
I'd seen it happen in so many pirate movies, and that's where my fantasy grew from. I always got off on the virile pirates, especially the handsome, swashbuckling ones. And there were so many movies where they would storm the other ships and take prisoners. There was always a young woman who was a virgin, and she would be caught by the men and tortured, and raped.
Although, when she was raped, they never showed anything. That Was where I had to fill in with my own imagination. But it was always easy to do that.
There was this one film where the woman who was caught looked just like me. I don't even remember the name, but at the end, as she's taken home, her sister looks at her with a great deal of scorn.
"You are not pure," the sister says. "No man will ever want you."
"Three men have had me," the girl says. "They have had me, and there will never be another man who can take me that way. It doesn't matter. I'll never have another love in my life. I've had three, and that's enough for any girl."
God, could I identify with that girl.
INTERVIEW TWO
The second time Lois came to see me, she was wearing a short skirt and a tight sweater. She looked like a young nymphette, which is quite the opposite of what she really is. Lois is a scared young girl, and she retreats into her sexual fantasies because she has been brainwashed by the media.
But I will get into that later. Lois seemed eager to tell me about her fantasy, and after a bit of idle chat, she started right in.
I'm on a boat with my sisters. It's back in the times of the pirates, of course. There are a few hired hands on board, and they are taking me and my sisters to America. Both of my sisters are married and their husbands are there.
Our parents are dead, and since I am the only unmarried one, I am also the only one who is pure.
Suddenly, one of the hired hands says that he sees a pirate ship coming. Even then, I'm happy. I have been hoping for some excitement to liven up my otherwise dull days. I have been hoping that something will happen so I don't have to go to America because I don't want to live with my sister's and their stuffy husbands.
When the pirates start to board the ship, there is one who strikes my imagine. I notice, before he even starts to duel with the hired hand, that he's looking at me and smiling. He had long black hair and a moustache and beard, just like Mark did.
His shirt is unbuttoned pretty far down and he had a thick coat of black hair on his chest. There's also a huge bulge in his pants.
My sisters are running around frantically, wondering what to do. I see them run into the inside cabin and lock it, but I stay out and watch.
I see one hired hand fall, then another, and finally, the third.
My handsome pirate comes over to me and sweeps me into his arms. He looks into my eyes and I suddenly feel fear. That's because I can also feel his hard cock bulge pressing against me. I know what he wants me for.
"What of thee others?" one of the pirates asks him, so I know that he's the leader. "Do we just leave them here?"
"Yes. One cunt is enough for three, I think. And she is the prettiest."
I suddenly feel him ripping my blouse down the front. I'm wearing one of these baggy old-fashioned blouses and a long, flowing skirt.
He rips the blouse enough to expose one of my tits, then squeezes it.
Then, he carries me off to his ship. I look back and see my sisters coming out. I struggle to get back to them, but there's nothing I can do, for in a matter of minutes, the pirate ship is pulling away.
I'm brought to the pirate's cabin, and the three of them stand around me. The leader pulls my blouse off all the way and I feel a few hands on my tits. I don't know who's touching me because I have my eyes closed.
"Yes," the leader is saying. "She will serve us quite nicely, indeed. I can feel her arousing something in me."
I feel him reaching for my hand, and he brings it to his crotch. The bulge feels even bigger than it looks, and it starts to pulsate as I squeeze it. I pull my hand away and he slaps me across the face.
"Are you a virgin?" he asks me. I nod my head, and he sighs. "That explains it. Once you learn how it feels, you won't pull back."
He suddenly yanks my skirt down and then starts to pull off my petticoats and panties. I can't believe how many layers of underclothes I have on before he reaches my cunt, and as soon as he does, he grabs for me.
I try to pull away, and he nods to the other two.
I feel each one grabbing an arm and a leg, and then I'm being pulled over to the pirate's bed. The leader looks at me with greedy eyes, and I'm breathing quite heavily so that my large tits are rising and falling fast.
He starts to open his shirt, then takes it off. He opened his breeches and pushes them down, but he doesn't step out of them.
When I see his menacing cock pointing right at me, I started to shudder. I try to close my legs, because I know that's where he's going to put that cock. But the other two are holding me spread.
The leader walks closer and lays down between my legs. I can feel his body on mine and his thick cock rubbing against my cunt. He moves his mouth to mine to kiss me, and when I bite his lip, he slaps me across the face.
"You bitch. You'll have to learn the hard way, won't you?" , And when he says hard, he's referring not only to his cock, but the amount of force he's going to put behind it. He thrusts his hard cock into my cunt and rips right through my hymen. I scream in pain for the longest time, because he doesn't slow down to rest after the first thrust.
But my whole body is exploding with pleasure at the same time.
The leader starts to fuck me fast, and when his cock starts to pulsate, I can feel it stretching me. That's when it first starts getting good, but by that time, he's already coming in me.
He pulls out so that the last few loads shoot onto my stomach.
"How about us?" one of the other pirates asks.
"Of course," the leader says, and he steps out of the way.
He changes places with the other one so he can hold my arm and leg, and they keep changing positions until they each have a chance to fuck me. While it's happening I'm coming again and again. I keep thinking of my sisters on the other ship and how boring their lives will be, if they even make it to America. After all, the hired help on their ship were killed and they don't know how to steer the boat.
I think that they might hate me if they found out that I gave myself to these men, but when I tell myself that there is nothing I can do about it, I enjoy it more.
At one point, while one of the crew is fucking me, the leader moves his cock to my mouth and starts to push it in.
When I taste it, I don't really want it. But he's forceful, and soon he's thrusting his cock in and out of my mouth. I start to love the taste in a matter of seconds and soon he's able to let go of my arm so I can squeeze his balls.
As long as there's nothing I can do to get away, I tell myself that I'm going to make the best of it. I suck on his balls for a while, and while I do, he rubs his stiff cock all over my face.
I'm being fucked at the same time, you have to remember, so my pleasures are at an incredible high. My whole body is bursting with feeling.
The leader starts to come in my mouth, and there's so much that I let some of it leak out. He hits me in the face for it, and then, my cunt starts to spasm hard. The man who's fucking me is having a hard time holding back, and soon he comes.
The other two are ordered to leave, and I have to spend the night in the leader's cabin. He climbs into bed a little later, after I've been there for some time, then puts his arms around me.
"You're going to be a lot of fun," he says. "I'm glad you're here."
And I know that if I refuse to take him in again, the next time he wants me, he'll hit me and force himself in. With that content feeling in mind, I fall asleep.
CONCLUSION
Lois is another girl who feels quite guilty about having sex, and there is no reason for that. I tried to tell her this again and again, but since she was raised by her aunt, who lives by the sex standards of the old days, she has been taught to think that sex is dirty.
Lois is also a romantic. The media has influenced her into thinking that the swashbuckling pirate days were filled with romance, and that is why she fantasizes about that time. Also, the fact that the pirates forced their woman to submit against their will helps, too. It justifies the sex in Lois's mind.
I don't think that there's anything wrong with her, however. Many women have these fantasies. I told Lois that although she didn't like sex with Mark, she also didn't confess and tell him what she really wanted. Mark sounds like a reasonable young man, and I'm sure that he would be willing to play the forceful pirate to Lois's maiden in distress. He already has the costume for it.
CASE HISTORY THREE
SUBJECT: Sally B. AGE: Fourteen
INTERVIEW ONE
Sally B. is a trim, blonde-haired girl with round glasses. She looks quite typical of an early nineteen-sixty-nine hippie, however, she doesn't come off like that at all when she talks. In fact, she because she seems to look the part of a teenager of the sixties, she is always taken as being much older.
She has straight blonde hair that hangs to her shoulders, rather limply, but it still looks quite soft. When she came to see me she was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and a pair of nice jeans, so it was hard to get a good view of her figures.
However, as she spoke, she had a tendency to pull on the bottom of the sweatshirt and at times, I could see that she had rounded, firm breasts.
I always hang out with older people. I like them. You would think it was crazy for a girl just going into high school to be hanging around with people in their late twenties and early thirties. Well, I. like it like that, I really do.
Most of the people that I know are very rich, and even though they know my age, they don't treat me like a kid. I think one of the reasons they might like me hanging out with them is because it makes them feel younger.
Whatever the reason is, I still love it. The kids at high school are such a bore. Most of them haven't even gotten into sex, and my older friends talk about it all the time. I love it. They're always discussing positions and which is better for which partner, and ever so often they've had orgies.
At least II heard that they did. I've never been to one. It's not that I've never been invited. I have. I just prefer not going.
If you want to know the truth, I think that sex is something rather sacred. I don't see how the morals could have changed so much. Sometimes, I wish that I lived in the Romantic era, where sex was something more beautiful than it is today.
Now all it is, is a bodily function. At least that's the impression I get when I'm with all my rich older friends.
I love sex, too. I love private sex, most of all, and by that, I mean alone.
Yes. Masturbation. I'll never forget the first time that I masturbated. I was lying in bed, just thinking about this guy named Dick who was in my sixth grade class. I was only twelve at the time, and I was having a hard time getting along with a lot of my friends at school. You see, I was getting tits before the girls and they didn't like me, and that age was the age when the boys were still a little scared of us.
That's another reason I started hanging out with older people.
Anyway, I was thinking of Dick, and I don't think that there was anything sexual. I just thought about his cute face and his dimples, and then, all of a sudden, I felt this trembling in my pussy. I started to rub my legs together for a second, thinking that it was only some kind of an itch.
It was some fucking itch, all right. It was my clit, tingling.
I quickly slid my hand down into my panties and started to rub myself. I had a little bit of blonde pussy hair, and I played with it.
But my fingers instinctively moved right between my pussy lips, and I started to frig my clit back and forth like crazy. I closed my eyes and felt my tits starting to heave up and down.
At the time, I was wearing this tight training bra because my mother insisted that I wear those kind, and it was so tight, and my nipples started getting so stiff, that I almost passed out from the pleasure of it all.
I remember that my ass was a mass of sweat. I didn't know where it was coming from, and for a second, I thought that I had pissed on the bed. But my whole body started to shake and quiver.
I licked my lips, running my tongue slowly over the top one and then the bottom.
I don't know what made me think of moving my hand to my tit. But I just figured that if my nipples was touched, the feeling would be even better. I started to massage my nipple, after unhooking my bra.
I honestly didn't think that I could go on. The feelings were so intense, and the hotter I got, the more vulnerable I started to feel. I thought that I was going to work myself up into some kind of a frenzy where I'd just pass out and die. I think the reason I thought that is because I once saw my friend's grandfather die.
Yes, it's true. We were at her house, watching him because he was pretty much of an invalid. It happed at about age eleven, and Melissa was a good enough housekeeper and responsible, too. Her mother always left her alone, and I had just come over to visit for a while, since she couldn't go out.
We were sitting in the living room watching television when grandpa started coughing.
Melissa and I went to his room and she tried pounding her fist on his stomach to see what would happen. Eventually, the man started to wheeze hard and breathe hard, and then, just like that, he stopped.
My mother had already explained death to me, so I knew what had happened. It didn't effect me too much. Melissa had to go to a shrink for help on that one.
So you see, as I started to heave like that, just because of the heightened sexual feelings inside of me, I was a little hesitant. Sure, I had even heard people talk about sex so I knew that you couldn't die from it. But what do you expect from a twelve-year-old kid? I'm a mature woman now.
I think I brought myself off four times that night. It was terrific. Once I stopped doing it, I would lay there for a few seconds, and then just get the urge once more. It was a great thing to do to pass the time. Better than reading, better than watching television, even better than going to a movie.
Well, I continued to masturbate for the longest time, until I started having sex. I'm sure that's what you want to hear about, don't you?
Okay. I met all these rich older people through my cousin, Merrily. She was a stunning dark-haired woman who came to visit us when I was fourteen. One night, she was going out and she asked me if I wanted to come.
Merrily was going to this party on the upper East side, and I thought it would be terrific. Of course, I was dying to go with her. My mother thought that it would be okay, and if she ever knew what was going on there, she would never talk to Merrily again. For it was a big drug, booze and sex party. Of course, I didn't get into anything then. I was still a virgin, and doing it at an orgy bothered me. It didn't sound like a good first experience.
I met some of the nicest people though, and they were the ones who kept calling me after. Merrily went back to California. The next week I got a call from one of the guys who said that he thought I was fun.
There was going to be another party, and then another. Well, I soon got into that lifestyle with them. They seemed to be the kind of people who partied all weekend, and as far as I was concerned, that was okay with me.
I would usually just watch them when they had sex. There was this one guy named Peter. He was from California, originally, and he had one of those blonde surfer type bodies. He managed to keep his tan really dark, and the first time I ever saw him strip to get involved with a little swap there, I couldn't believe it.
He had this white band around his ass and groin from where he wore his bathing suit, and I thought that he was one of the hottest looking men I'd ever seen. He had an average sized cock and the lightest little patch of blonde pubic hair. The thing I liked best about him were his balls. They would swing back and forth when he walked around the room.
He saw me looking at him and smiled, then came over to me.
"Hey, Sal, I've noticed that even though you like to party, with the booze and the drugs, you never get into the sex. Why not?"
"I don't really feel like it. I'd rather have it better for the first time."
"You mean that you're a virgin?" he asked me. He wasn't condescending at all. In fact, he said it rather matter-of-factly.
"Yes," I said.
"Well, if you want to do it alone sometime, maybe the two of us could get together at my place. Or find a room here? Either way."
"Yes," I said, and for some reason, I started to tremble.
I was glad that he hadn't seen me doing it. He had already turned his back and had walked over to this redhead who was sucking off this guy. She was thrown back on the couch and had her head pulled all the way back so that she could take the guy's cock right into her mouth.
Peter walked right over and thrust his cock into this woman's cunt. She started to go wild, moving around on the couch like she was having the best time of her life. I was rather content to sit there watching Peter's taut buttocks as he fucked the woman. It was almost like he wore a skin tight bathing suit because of the contrast between his back and legs and his ass. It was fabulous.
Well, I finally did lose my virginity to Peter. It happened one night in the strangest way. I traveled to the upper East side by cab one Saturday night. I knew that this guy Joe was getting married the next day, and I thought that there was going to be this big celebration party.
When I got there, I found only women in the apartment.
"The guys are out partying with Joe. They said that a bachelor's party should be with men only. They'll be back."
So I sat and talked with some of the women, and a few of them went off and started to make it with each other, determined not to let the guys stop their fun. I didn't even dream of making it with a woman, believe me. I hadn't even made it with a man yet, although that was to be the night it happened.
I was quite smashed by the time the guys walked in. It was about three in the morning already, and some of the girls had gone off to sleep.
Peter saw me sitting on the couch with a bottle of champagne in my hand. I think I had almost polished off the whole thing myself.
He flopped down beside me on the couch and nestled' his head against my neck. He started to kiss me lightly.
"Did you miss me?" he asked me. He was playing like he was my boyfriend and I was kind of getting off on it.
"Yes," I said. "I missed all you guys."
"That's not what I wanted to know," he said. "I wanted to know if you missed me in particular. Did your heart cry out to you that you wanted Peter here?"
"No," I said, and when he pretended to be crying, I moved my hand to his straight blonde hair and started to stroke it. "There, there, Peter. I think that you can get through this one okay."
"Never," he said, and I was beginning to realize just how drunk he was. "All night, I kept thinking about you. Even when the stripped popped out of the cake and moved in front of me and started peeling off her G-string, inches from my face."
"Even then?" I asked, laughing.
"Especially then," he said to me. "She reminded me a little bit of you, that girl. But then the others came and there was mass confusion."
I could tell, just by looking at his tight slacks, that Peter was beginning to get hard just thinking about the party. I had no idea what had gone on, but I was beginning to suspect. I thought that the men probably called the party just to have a different set of women for the night, and in some ways, that pissed me off. The standard crowd of girls were quite nice to the men. It was free-for-all there, but at least a girl would know who her guy was fucking.
Peter suddenly grabbed my hand and pulled it to his crotch. He started to make me rub his swollen bulge, and I didn't think there was anything wrong with that. I felt him starting to throb at one point, and then I pulled my hand away.
This was probably the closest that Peter and
I had ever been up to that point. I mean, his head was still nestled against my neck, and I was beginning to get aroused a little. We were sitting on this incredibly comfortable couch, and as I turned around, there was no one else in the living room.
I figured that there was a lot of action going on in the bedroom. But there was probably more sleeping than anything else, because most of them were really drunk.
Anyway, when Peter put his hand under my chin and then turned my head to kiss me on the lips, I felt great. He pressed his tongue into my mouth and I started to suck on it. I rubbed his cock bulge on my own then, without his hand having to force me.
That must have told him that I was very willing then, for he moved his hand to my blouse and opened a few buttons. He pulled the blouse open enough so he could see my two small tits.
I never wore a bra when I went to the weekend parties. It would have looked so out of place. Peter smiled as he saw my two small tits, but he seemed to love my rosy red nipples. He moved his mouth to one and started to suck on it, while his fingers moved to the other and he pinched it. I could feel a swelling inside of my whole body and I somehow knew that I was going to go all the way.-
He was already pushing me down on the couch and spreading my legs, even though I was still wearing a skirt and panty hose, and he was wearing his pants. Still, when he did that, I could feel his cock bulge pressing against my cunt lips.
My head was floating and I was feeling so high. I know that the champagne had a lot to do with it. It had relaxed me so much.
You have to believe me when I tell you that before Peter and the rest of the guys came back from the party that night, I must have polished off two bottles on my own. That's all me and the other girls were doing. Drinking and smoking.
Peter moved his hand down to my skirt and slid open the side zipper. I could hear him breathing heavier and heavier as he got closer and closer to my pussy. I knew that he was more than eager now.
In fact, I don't think that anything could have stopped him at that point.
He slid my skirt down, then pushed his fingers into the elastic waistband of my panty hose. I felt him starting to pull it down, and that's when I got a little scared. I was really going too tell him to stop then, and I'm sorry that I didn't.
I mean, no, II didn't mean that. I liked it, of course.
When he touched my cunt hairs, my whole body started to shiver. He thought that I might have been a little cold, and so, he opened his shirt and pants and then pressed his naked body on top of mine.
I could feel his throbbing hard cock rubbing over my pussy hairs and my belly. I suddenly felt so big, so much bigger than it had ever looked. This was the first time I was getting to feel it, mind you.
He started to lick his way down to my cunt, and as I felt his cock pulling back, I eased up a little bit more.
He moved his mouth between my legs and started to eat my cunt. I loved the way it felt when he flicked my clit back and forth.
I started to come so hard, and Peter was laughing a little bit. He started to lap up my pussy juices, and I could feel my whole body getting warm.
"Now just relax a little bit, baby," he said to me. "The fuck is going to be even better than that, but, just to make sure you're relaxed more, I think I'm going to make you come again. It's a little bit selfish on my part, too, mind you. That's because I happen to love the taste of your sweet pussy."
"Do you?" I asked. I really wanted some reassurance that what I was doing was okay, and that he was being very satisfied.
"Honey, this is the sweetest pussy I've ever tasted."
With that, he moved his head right back between my legs. This time, he pulled my cunt lips apart with his fingers and then clamped his mouth against the meat of my tunnel. He started to suck hard, and I could feel my wet fleshy walls starting to spasm like crazy. Peter sure knew how to suck a cunt, let me tell you. I thought that I was going to go absolutely berserk.
I started to hump my cunt against his face, and he held onto my ass cheeks tight enough to slow me down a little bit. I might have even hurt his chin. I could hear the sounds of the slaps each time I thrust forward.
But I also heard him breathing heavy the whole time, and he was always moaning and slurping. He made me come again, hard, and then, he started another orgasm up. This time, he licked me, but only to a certain point.
Then, he let my ass rest back on the sofa and he started to lick and kiss his way up my body. I could feel my whole body trembling with anticipation. I think that my cunt lips were even puckering up, anticipating the entry of his lovely cock.
I felt his chest dripping on my tits as he held himself up by the arms. Then he moved one hard down to his cock and I felt him rubbing it over my pussy lips.
I don't know why, but that's when I started to panic. I don't know why, I said. I just don't. But my whole body started to tremble with fright.
It was too late, however. Peter just shoved himself into me, and I felt my hymen ripping right through. The pain just shot through my body and I screamed out. He moved his hand to my mouth and tried to cover it.
Suddenly, I could hear a lot of voices in the room, and there was the sound of padded feet running on the carpet.
"What happened? What was that noise? Huh? Huh?"
"Nothing," Peter said, looking up.
I had my eyes clenched shut, hoping that the throbbing pain would subside. Peter moved his mouth to my ear and whispered softly.
"Come on, baby, just think of how nice it feels. Don't you love it when my cock rides over your clit? Don't you just love it?"
I was beginning to get into the feeling of it, so I thought. I mean, the pain was starting to leave me and I was feeling some pleasure from his thrusting. Soon, in fact, my cunt was starting to spasm around his cock, and I gripped my arms tightly around his back, digging my nails into him.
"Shit, she's a fighter," I heard someone say.
"Sure ass hell is. A nice one, too."
I opened my eyes then and saw that almost everyone was standing behind the couch, looking over and watching what we were doing.
I didn't like that idea at all, and I was getting ready to scream and tell them to get out. However, one of them started to smile at me, and then another one did.
"It's the first time we've ever seen y u doing it. After all this time. Hey, that's really nice to know, kid."
"Yeah. Let's hear it for Sally. Let's hear it for her."
"Hip-hip-hooray! Hip-hip-hooray!! "
I couldn't believe it. It was like they were having this party for me because I was being fucked. I wanted to be able to like the idea of it, but I just couldn't. I hated the idea of it and wished that they would all go away.
Still, the continued to cheer, and the more they did, the less I came. I could feel my pleasure starting to subside, and it was just then that Peter started to moan and come in my cunt. I felt his sticky come shooting deep inside of me and didn't say anything. I was just glad that it was over.
I was. I was really glad. It was nothing like I had dreamed my first time would be. I thought that I was on display for them, and that didn't make me feel good.
All right, doctor, I can see you looking at me warily. You're probably thinking that I'm all mixed-up and that I'm being a hypocrite or something. Your thumbing back over your notes. Are you checking to see if I had said only a few minutes ago that I love sex and I've fucked all the time?
Well, I lied. That was my only time, and it happened a few months ago. I don't know why I haven't done it again, but I just can't. I get cold when I think about it, even though I can still watch the others.
But I've gotten into masturbation a lot more now when I'm at home, because ever since that first and only time, I've been having the greatest fantasy...."
INTERVIEW TWO
The second time Sally came to see me, she was dressed all in white. I thought that it was rather odd, until she got into her fantasy.
She was wearing a pair of tight white pants and a long, flowing white cotton shirt. She had on sneakers, and somehow, she looked so pale against all of this white because of her light complexion.
She had her hair braided down the back that day, and she seemed more eager to talk this time than she had the first time.
You're the only person who knows now that I've only had sex once. I used to think that it was such a terrible thing, and that was why I never told anyone else. But since you know my biggest secret, I feel like I can tell you everything and that makes me feel so much better.
The first time I came to see you, I was so scared. I wondered if that fact would come out, and you can see how hard I tried to cover it. Well, I'm glad that you know now because maybe you can help me to understand my fantasy better because of it.
In my fantasy I'm in this room that's all white. Even the walls are carpeted in white, and I'm naked.
Suddenly a door opens. I can't see the door because it just blends in with the white carpeting on the walls, but when it opens I can see a dark hallway. A few of the girls walk in. I know them all because they're the girls that I usually party with. They all seem so happy and cheery.
They're pulling something in, and when I look, I see that it's a large wooden tub of hot water. They call me over and help me get into the tub. They're all wearing bathing suits as they stand around me, pouring all different kinds of oils into the water. It seems like they're preparing me for something.
I stand up and they started to sponge me off. I feel all these hands on my body and because of it, I think that I'm going to start coming very soon. I've never felt anything like this before.
One of the girls moves her hand to my pussy and she starts to touch me.
"You'll love it when it happens the first time," she says. "What?"
"The first time. You're still a virgin, silly." They all start to laugh, and then one of them stands on this ladder and pours the water over my back and shoulders, just to clean off the soap. They do the same with my front, concentrating mainly on my tits.
As soon as I step out of the tub, I'm wrapped in pure white towels. Then the tub is pulled out and another thing is pulled in. It's like a large vanity with a mirror on it. The girls finish drying me off and lead me in front of the mirror.
I watch as they open the closet and pull out something that reminds me of a wedding gown, with a few variations.
There's a top part like a bikini, and there are white panties to go with it. The dress part is made of white lace, so it's practically transparent, and then there's the veil, that's rather short.
"Oh, she looks so beautiful," one of them says, and they're all agreeing.
The vanity is wheeled out, just like the tub had been, and then, one more thing is wheeled in. It's a large cake.
They open the top of the wedding cake, and then there's this smaller ladder for me to climb into it.
"But what for?" I ask.
"It's a surprise," one of the girls says. "You'll love it."
I stoop down in the cake, and then one of them tells me what to say when I pop out. I'm given a cue, as to what will be said before I'm supposed to pop out.
"But nothing bad will happen, will it?" I ask.
"No, nothing."
By the time I think of this, doctor, I'm usually coming like a flood. I always like to masturbate to this fantasy. It's so white. I love it.
There's darkness for a few minutes, and I can feel the cake being wheeled out of my white-carpeted room. I'm a little scared, but not that much, and I'm sure I'll be able to take whatever's going to happen.
Suddenly, there's loud music from outside and I hear the man talking.
"Welcome," he said. "We know that this is all a special occasion for someone. Yes, he's going to be getting married soon, and so, we have this little surprise for him. There should be a bigger surprise inside."
And then, I pop out of the cake.
I feel like I'm at a bachelor party, mainly because all the men that I know are sitting around this large L-shaped table. The cake is right between it, only Peter is the one sitting in the chair of honor.
There is something different, here, too. The men are all wearing white tuxedoes and this whole room is in white, also.
Everything!
In fact, the only color other than white is the flesh of our skin, and of course, the different colors of hair.
But that's about it. I step out of the cake and walk over to the groom-to-be.
"Congratulations," I say to him, holding out my hand.
That, as far as I was told by the girls who cleaned me up in the oil, was all I had to say to them. I shake Peter's hand and start to turn away.
"Hey, where the fuck do you think you're going?" he asks me.
"Out of here," I said. "I want to leave now. I've done what I'm supposed to do."
"You think you have, don't you?" he asked, and suddenly, he grabs the lace dress that I'm wearing and starts to pull it. "There's more expected."
I suddenly realize that they're going to rape me.
"No," I say to him. "Don't. I'm still a virgin. Can't you see that I'm dressed in white? Don't."
He suddenly reaches for my top and pulls it off. It tears in the back, and when he does the same with my panties, I'm standing there, only wearing the veil.
"Now you're not dressed in anything" he says to me.
I turn around and I start to run. But I can see that the men are not planning to let me go. This room is doe like the first room I was in, with white carpeting on the walls. I can't find where the fuck the doors are and I'm getting even more scared because of it. I want too get out of there.
At least the walls feel soft as I hit them, because I'm running so frantically in an effort to escape, that I keep hitting the walls.
Finally, they get me in a corner, and Peter moves in front of me. They're all still dressed in their white tuxes, but they all have their cocks hanging out. All cocks are hard, and Peter's is the one that's closest.
"Let's start like this," he says, and he pushes me down on my knees. I feel him forcing his cock right between my lips, all the way down my throat.
No, doctor, I've never sucked him off before, but I do dream about it. As I think about it, I'm usually coming very hard.
I start to suck as hard as I can, and he grabs my blonde hair and then starts to thrust his cock back and forth against my face. It's forced all the way in the back of my throat at times, but I can put up with it.
I like the smell, I have to admit that. I take the opportunity, every so often, to look at the other men in the room. They're all rubbing their cocks.
Suddenly, Peter pulls out of my mouth.
"All right," he says. "Some of you hold her. I'm going to take her for the first time. Joe, put your big dick in her mouth to shut her up. I wanna fuck her cunt first, but she seems like she needs a dick to suck on."
Joe moves closer to me as I'm pushed down on the floor. He stands over me with his two feet on either side of my head. I look up and see his cock and balls dangling right over my face, and ever so slowly, he starts to descend, bringing that cock and those balls closer and closer.
I open my mouth to suck his dick in, just as it touches me.
Please, I'm saying to myself inside, don't do this to me. Please don't.
That's because I can feel Peter down by my cunt. He has spread my legs and he's rubbing his cock head against my pussy lips. I feel like I'm about to explode. My cunt lips are trembling, and suddenly, I'm thankful for the cock in my mouth.
I started to suck on it harder as I feel Peter ramming his cock right into my cunt. There's a sharp pain and I squirm on the carpet. It's so soft, however, that I don't mind it at all. And Peter starts to fuck me hard.
He moves his mouth to my tits and sucks on one of my rosy red nipples. I can feel my nipples swelling under his sucking.
His hips never fail to keep up the rhythm of the fuck. He's constantly shoving his thick stick in and out of my cunt, and I feel my pussy starting to spasm hard. It's the first really good orgasm I ever have.
And as I think about that, I'm usually frigging my own clit hard. At that point in my fantasy, doctor, I'm coming like crazy. Just thinking about that one cock working in and out of my cunt, and the other one that I'm sucking on, is enough to make me do it. I try to look around the room, and when I do, I can see all the men watching us.
They're still dressed in white.
In fact, everyone but me is dressed, and the only part of the men's bodies that are exposed is their cocks.
Joe starts to pulsate in my mouth, very hard, and suddenly, he's shooting his come deep in the back of my throat. I feel, for a second, like I'm going to gag on it, but then it just slides right down, very easily.
I love the taste of it, in my fantasy.
As soon as Joe's finished, Bob, this other guy, comes over and rams his cock into my mouth. I still don't mind sucking on it.
I'm concentrating now on the cock in my cunt, belonging to Peter. He's sure managing to hold back. The fuck is going on twice as long as the actual one that we had, and even if I wanted to, there's nothing that I can do about it.
One guy is constantly sitting on my face, practically, and my hands are being held down. So I do get into the fuck, and after a while, I'm even thrusting my hips up and down to meet Peter's throbbing cock halfway.
I hear the sound of his balls slapping against my ass, and I start to come hard. When my cunt spasms around his cock, harder than ever, he starts to come inside of me. I can hear him moaning so hard.
As his cock shrinks, he moves his mouth down there and starts to eat me. I'm surprise a that no one moves to take his place. In fuel, during the rest of my fantasy, Peter is the only guy who gets to fuck me.
I suck off practically all the others, about ten of them, and never more than once each. And while he's not fucking me, Peter is watching the others work on me, but no other cock enters my cunt, ever.
The whole thing ends when the guys just leave me lying there in the room right by the cake. I look up, then reach out and take some of the whipped cream on my hand. I start to lick it off, and soon, I'm rolling in the whipped cream. It feels so good, and, at the same time, I'm feasting on it.
Then the girls come back in and they have to drag me out so that they can put me back into the bath to clean me off again.
My body is so sensitive from all the fucking, that as they clean me off, I come again and again. They don't even have to touch my pussy, although I can feel a hand there every once in a while.
Until I'm cleaned off, dried, and wrapped in a warm blanket so I can go to sleep.
That's the way it ends. And believe me doctor, it's much better than sex ever was. With that fantasy, I can have the best orgasms. I don't stop coming for a second. I love it more than anything else.
So is there something wrong with me? Is there? If a girl can't enjoy her own fantasy without being called sick, then life isn't worth living.
CONCLUSION
I would never say that Sally's fantasy is a sick one, and I have no idea why she assumed that I did think it was sick. I feel, however, that Sally needs a great deal of help in order to come to terms with her own sexuality.
She is a girl who was witnessing orgies before she even had one experience, acting like a pro when she really knew nothing. She was also a romantic, waiting for the right man and the right moment.
Sally was quite upset with the way she lost her virginity, and that's where her whole fantasy stems from. In the fantasy, she is losing her virginity all over again. In fact, everything around her is white. This time, however, she is being forced to do it, not by sweet words or fear that someone might realize she's a virgin if she doesn't, but by sheet physical force. That saves her from feeling the guilt she most obviously felt when she first lost her virginity. It's going to take her some time before she can learn to enjoy sex with another person, but it's a definite necessity that she does learn to enjoy it.
CASE HISTORY FOUR
SUBJECT: Margie AGE: Thirteen
INTERVIEW ONE
Margie is a cute girl with a brown fuck haircut. When she came to seem me she was wearing a sleeveless blouse and dungarees. I could tell that she had a typical pre-pubescent figure with small, budding breasts, and hardly any curves to her hips, yet.
However, she has a very lovely face with large brown eyes and a wide, big smile. She seemed a little hesitant about talking to me, thinking that she might implicate some people in saying what she had to say.
I assured her, however, that everything would be kept in the strictest of confidence.
I know that I'm never going to lose my virginity unless someone forces me to do it. I've have a few bouts with some kids that I go to school with because some of the guys are already into fucking. But I always seem to win.
It's not that I'm stronger than any of the guys. I think that any of the three who tried to do it with me (all unsuccessfully, I might add) could have easily smacked me across the face and had his way with me.
But when I started to fight back, I guess they all just got too scared. Maybe they all thought they'd really hurt me bad.
I can tell you, quite easily, why I'm going to have to be beaten.
You see, my father beats my mother all the time, and then he fucks her. Well, even when he fucks her, and I've seen them a lot, I can tell that she hates it. She's always squirming around underneath him, and the look on her face is one of anything but pleasure.
The first time I ever saw them was when I was seven. I was sleeping, and all of a sudden, I heard this smashing sound.
I learned, later in life, that the smashing sound was my mother being shoved against the wall. I would see it happening at times.
When I heard that sound I climbed out of bed.
"You stupid bitch," my father screamed at my mother. "How the fuck do you expect me to be able to keep this household together when you go out and spend the fucking money on these stupid extravagances."
I heard a ripping sound, and then I ran out of my room and looked through their keyhole. He had just ripped the night gown off my mother, and he was holding it in his hands, in pieces.
They were both naked now. My father had black hair and a hairy body. My mother's a redhead, and she has a beautiful body. Big tits and a nice looking patch.
"You stupid fucking idiot," my mother said to him. "Now I'll never be able to return it. You could have said you didn't like it without having to rip it."
He suddenly pulled his hand back and smashed it across her face. I saw her reeling back and heard her smashing against the wall again.
"You never would have taken it back," he said to her. "I know you a lot better than that. You never would have taken it back."
He approached her and started to kick her in the belly. She flailed her arms about, trying to escape his blows. I could see that the more he hit her, the harder his cock was starting to get.
That really amazed me. I had never seen his cock hard before, and I had my eyes on it the whole time, seeing it go from a completely flaccid state, to a completely hard state. He continued to kick her, even as he moved his hand down and began to rub himself.
"You're going to get it," he said to her.
My mother was huddled in the corner of the room by this time, and he grabbed her by his long red hair and shoved his cock into her mouth. I thought that she was gagging on it because of the noises she was making, but soon, those noises turned to slurping.
I saw my father ramming his cock in and out of her mouth, purposely moving his hand to his balls and slapping them against her chin. Every so often, I would see him reach for her tit and start to pull on her nipple. There were tears running out of her eyes, down her cheeks.
He could see them, but he didn't seem to care.
Doctor, these fights did bother me, believe me. The reason I can talk about them so calmly now is because they're a common occurrence in my house. The first time, when I was seven, it scared the shit out of me.
Somehow, something inside of me told me to keep quiet though, and I'm glad that I did. When my father got into those moods, he would forget himself and I'm sure that he wouldn't have hesitated to turn on me. I wouldn't have liked something like that to happen, and so I always made sure to be quiet, even when my mother looked like a bloody rag, lying there under his kicking foot.
Eventually,-he would stop hitting her and making her suck him because he was really after her pussy. He'd force her down on her back and then spread her legs apart as wide as he possibly could.
"Now you're going to get the fucking of your life," he'd tell her.
He seemed to say that all the time, whenever he was getting ready to do it.
Now when I was seven, I had never heard of fucking before, but when I saw him ram that cock into her cunt, I knew what it was. I could hear my mother grunting and groaning the whole time that he fucked her, and there were times when I was sure she saw me watching them. But she never said anything to me about it.
By the time I was eleven, I knew about fucking. I mean, kids tend to talk about it in school, but I was kind of confused because they were all talking about how nice it was supposed to be.
"I saw my folks do it the other day," this girl said. "I saw just what was happening and now, I can't wait for it to happen to me. I just can't wait. My mother looked like she was having the time of her life."
When I heard that, I knew that I couldn't tell anyone what my parents did. I thought that they would all think that I was some kind of a freak, or my parents were. I don't know what I actually thought, really. All I know is that I was beginning to understand that my parents weren't doing it the way most people did.
Still, that wasn't making it any better for me. Sometimes I wondered why my mother put up with it. I thought that she should have kicked his fucking ass out of the house and gotten a divorce. I'm sure that she could have survived on the alimony that she would have gotten, plus child support.
Once I saw him actually whip her with his belt, and then he threw her over the bed, face-first, and started to fuck her ass-hole. I remember that I moved my finger to my ass-hole, just to cover it up.
I thought that ass-fucking must have been so painful, but the expression on my mother's face was no different from the way it was when he would fuck her the regular way.
That's why I started to think that fucking is always painful. I didn't care what any of the kids at school said. I knew that it was going to have to be painful because of the way I saw it happening.
At age thirteen, a few months ago, I started to masturbate for the first time. I just felt this tingling in my pussy and when I moved my fingers down between my legs, I started to come.
The first time I ever had an orgasm, it happened so fast, and it was so nice, that I started to think about sex a little bit more.
I thought that maybe something else in my cunt would feel good. I had seen these dildoes sold as face-massagers in the local drugstore, so one day I went in and bought one. That's how I broke my hymen.
I started to use that dildo all the time, too, just because I could get such pleasure out of it. As it rubbed against my clit, I would just close my eyes and see all these colors exploding in my head. It was the total end.
And then, once, I started to dream of a cock fucking me, and that left me cold. I just couldn't help it. I wanted a cock, but the idea that the man would have all this control over me to do what he wanted just scared me.
That's when I started to have this fantasy about being forced to do it. It's a terrific fantasy, and one day, I hope it comes true.
INTERVIEW TWO
The second time Margie came to see me, she was wearing a matching suit and vest. She gave the appearance of a child who wanted to look much older, and in some ways, it was remarkably affective.
She still lacks the figure of an older woman, but it's easy to tell that within a few years, when she has a full bust and the full curves of an older woman, she will be able to pass herself off as an adult.
She seemed a little reluctant to talk today, as I found most of my patients are when the have to talk about their fantasy.
I can understand it, however, for fantasies are private things and some people can feel funny talking to someone else about it.
In this fantasy I'm at my sister's house. I'm there for a visit, and I like it a lot better there because she and her husband don't fight like my mother and my father do. I like her husband, also.
His name is Ira and he has brown hair and a hairy chest. He's really a funny guy, and I remember that when my sister married him, and I was only mine, I was pretty envious of her. No, jealous is the better word. I really admire Ira, and I guess that's why he's the one who gets me in my fantasy.
My sister says that she has to go out to the store to pick up some vegetables for dinner, leaving me there alone. Ira's due home from work any minute, and she tells me to fix him a drink to hold him over until she gets back.
When Ira walks in, he's pretty furious because my sister is out. I tell him that I'll make him a drink, and he says that I can do him one better.
"What's that?" I ask him.
"Suck on this," he says to me, and before I know what he's doing, he has his large cock hanging out of his pants.
"I can't," I say to him. "You know I can't do that."
"You sure as hell can, Margie. You got a mouth, right?"
He suddenly forces me to the floor and then pulls my head over to his cock. He pinches my cheeks as he starts to force his cock in and out of my mouth. He's not doing it so hard, and I don't have too much trouble taking it down.
In fact, my pussy is starting to cream because of it. I can feel it as I rub my legs together.
Ira works himself up to a full orgasm, shooting his come deep into the back of my throat. I swallow it and love it, but then, he pushes me back and sits on top of me.
"I'm going to fuck you now," he says.
"Ira, I'm a virgin. Please don't do it. Our relationship will never be the same afterwards if you do that to me. Please don't."
"It will be better," he says, and he reaches for my panties and starts to pull them right off. I can feel his fingers groping in my cunt, and I'm really scared. He starts to wiggle my clit back and forth with his fingers, and soon I can feel my cunt spasming hard under his touch.
Still, I know that he's going to be trying to get his cock into my cunt soon, and that scares the shit out of me.
He sees that I'm scared, just by the look in my eyes, and he slaps me across the face again and again.
"You shouldn't be scared," he says to me. "There's no reason to be scared, you stupid bitch. It's bound to happen sometime."
And then, he starts to slide down my body. I can feel his cock getting harder and harder as it runs over my flesh. He moves it between my small tits and presses them together so he's fucking my tits.
Then, he slides all the way down so that his cock is right over my cunt.
As he rubs it over my pussy lips, I start to tremble even more.
"Please don't do this to me," I say to him. "Don't."
Then, Ira starts to smack me across the face again and again.
Now I want you to understand, doctor, that when I masturbate to this fantasy, I don't get so aroused with the slaps. I don't really want to be beaten so hard, and Ira slaps me a little harder than I want it.
Still, I know that it's the only way for him to get his cock into me. I know that I would never dare take that cock in unless he was hitting me and forcing me to do it.
Finally, he plunges his way into me. Now I'm not a real virgin because I don't have my hymen. I've already broken it with the dildo, and when he starts to fuck me I just love it.
I wrap my legs around his ass and his pumping cock is driving me crazy. I can feel it rubbing over my stiffened clit and sending all kinds of passion waves through me. I feel the sweat on his ass as I start to massage his buttocks with my feet, and then I start to come hard.
I can feel my cunt muscles spasming hard around his cock, and it feels so good to finally have a solid piece of flesh inside of me.
Ira sure knows how to fuck, and once he starts to fuck me, he doesn't hit me anymore. But at one point, when he falls out because he pulls back a little too far, I start to panic once again.
You see, it's the entry that I'm scared of, and I don't really know why. Once the cock is inside of my cunt, I don't mind it, but getting it in is what I have trouble with. When Ira falls out and tries to get back in, I put up a big fight.
I kick him away, and he's furious. I start to crawl on the carpet, trying to get away from him. But he pounces on top of me, like a lion or something. He presses his cock against my ass and for a second, I think that he's going to enter my ass-hole.
"Anything but that," I beg him.
"All right," he says, and then he bites into my neck, at the same time that he rams his cock into my cunt, from behind. , I feel like we're two cats. Did you ever see cats doing it? The male bites into the female's neck and holds her that way.
Well, he holds me good, and like I said, once his cock is inside of my cunt, I'm in heaven. My pussy starts to spasm again, and I rub myself on the carpet just to make things feel even better.
"Good fucking cunt," Ira whispers in my ear, and I think that his talking dirty turns me on as much as his thrusting cock.
I feel him starting to pulsate inside of me, and that stretches my hot pussy even more. I think that he's going to come, but he holds back a few more minutes.
When he does finally come, I'm in heaven. I start to come so hard that I just faint, and usually, my cunt-tickling fingers which work as I fantasize, work me up so much that I faint also.
I'm glad it happens that way, because I would hate to think of what my sister would say if she ever returned and found her husband fucking me like that. I guess I never think that far because I only imagine the good part of the fantasy.
And that's really all there is to it.
I'll probably never lose my virginity, however, because no one will ever force me to do it. I have to be forced, otherwise it won't work. I'm looking forward to the day that it happens because I know I won't have to go through any bad pain.
I've already broken my hymen to save a guy the trouble. Now, all I can do is hope that someone with a strong cock also has a strong body to hold me down. And if he has to beat me up, then let him whack away.
CONCLUSION
Margie's problem most definitely stems from the things she witnessed when she was younger. To her, sex was something terrible and something that was always forced on a woman. That was what always happened to her mother.
As she started to experiment and she learned how nice an orgasm can feel, she began to fantasize about having intercourse. However, since she has always seen a man forcing himself on a woman, and the cock is always a threat to her, she cannot imagine that first point of entry.
I really don't think she has anything to worry about. One say, she will just go out with a man who won't take no for an answer, and if he has to force her he'll be in for a pleasant surprise because she's going to love it.
CASE HISTORY FIVE
SUBJECT; Andrea W. AGE; Fourteen
INTERVIEW ONE
When Andrea first came into my office she was an ever-changing bundle of surprises. She had a rounded face with rosy pink cheeks that made her look like an 'All-American Girl', but at the same time she had a very refined way of talking and acting that made her seem very much the spoiled brat from Park Avenue that she was.
It was hard to determine whether her beautifully rounded breasts and full hips were the results of left-over baby fat or of early maturation. Sometimes she seemed very much the worldly wise and fully-grown woman, and sometimes she seemed like a little girl, even younger than her fourteen years.
Although she wore a skirt and a sweater, they were obviously very expensive things and she wore them well. The sweater really showed off her full figure and her pale pink face. Her long, blonde hair was hanging straight down as it framed her rounded features.
She was very nervous when she first came to see me.
I don't know where to begin, Doctor. It's not like I'm some worldly woman who knows all there is to know about fucking and sucking.
I try to come off like I'm so knowledgeable and sharp, but that's only a cover so none of the kids will know that I'm really a scared little girl.
You know how they tell you that your fairy tales can come true, and that your wishes can come true? Well, no one ever told me that my fantasies can come true, but they did.
I am talking about the kind of fingerfucking fantasies that I always felt guilty about having.
The other girls at my school, (I go to the really best private school in Manhattan), would talk about which boys they were hot for. They always wanted the boys in the school who were the class officers or the captains of the school teams. The most they would ever admit to was wanting some boys older brother or dreaming about a movie star.
The thing is that all the other kids I went to school with were from the best families in town, and to be perfectly honest I have never dreamed about screwing with a boy from one of the best families.
There was this dream that I had about six months ago.
There is a guard who stands at the front door of my school. He is a black man, with such slickly smooth black skin that you think it's black glass. He's well over six and a half feet tall, and he has the broadest shoulders I've ever seen.
Maybe they just look broader because he wears that blue uniform with all the buttons and the braids on it.
like I said, this school I go to is really into all of that ceremonial stuff.
I never paid that much attention to Thaddeus. That's his name, Thaddeus. Every morning everybody says, "Good morning, Thaddeus," and every night everybody says, "Good evening, Thaddeus." He just nods in reply and smiles a broad smile.
At least, I never thought that I paid any attention to Thaddeus, until one night when I had this wild dream.
I dreamed that I was walking down the halls of the school. But I knew that something was wrong because nobody else was there, just me.
Aside from the fact that there were no people there, it was just like the halls of school. The floors were spanking clean and shining. The walls were that dull institutional gray that I hate. The light fixtures were left over from the turn of the century.
I hear steps behind me, so I turn around to see who is there.
When I don't see anyone I begin to walk again. But when I walk again I hear the other set of footsteps again. I start to walk faster, and the footsteps behind me speed up.
This time I keep running as I look over my shoulder to see who is there. There is Thaddeus running behind me, in his full blue uniform. He is taking such big and long strides that I figure he will catch up to me at any moment. I have no idea how I've managed to out-distance him thus far.
When I run faster I realize that the wind is blowing on my chest, even though I'm still in the halls of the school. I begin to wonder how long the halls will keep going on until they end. The hall seems to go on forever.
Then I realize why I can feel the wind on my chest. I am bare-chested. I don't remember ever taking off my blouse. It's as if the blouse just flew off while I was running.
There are my big, white breasts, flopping in the wind.
When I look over my shoulder to see where Thaddeus is, I can see that he is also bare-chested. His uniform jacket and his white shirt and tie have all disappeared, so that I can see his powerful black chest.
This frightens me, so I continue to run, but then I realize that my skirt has disappeared as well. I am now running down the hall naked, as I feel my panties disappear from my body.
Although I am frightened to look behind me and see Thaddeus, something inside me forces me to look.
He is stark naked and monstrous looking.
I feel him coming closer to me, so I keep running and running even faster than before.
That was when I fell into some hole that was in my path. I woke up with a start and felt my heart beating double time.
The next morning when I went to school, I stared at Thaddeus as I entered the building. I noticed the bulge that was in the front of his pants and I felt a strange stirring in my pussy.
That night, when I went to bed I kept envisioning Thaddeus in his uniform. I kept trying to imagine what he would look like naked. I tried to imagine what his big, black cock would look like naked.
I reached down to touch my pussy lips and felt like I wanted to feel myself up down there. But I stopped myself. All night long I kept wanting to frig my pussy, but I thought that that was something that nice girls didn't do.
All night I was tossing and turning as I refused to give in to my desire to finger-fuck my steaming, virgin hole.
When I finally fell asleep I began to dream the same dream I had had the night before. But this time when I was running down the hall naked, with the big, naked black man behind me, I did not fall into a hole.
I closed my eyes to try to block out the dream. Maybe my dream self was hoping to fall into a hole so that she could be saved from the dream.
But when I opened my eyes I found that I was still running and that Thaddeus was still behind me, but there was an important change.
Now I was running naked through the jungle!
I really felt the twigs and leaves as I brushed past them, and somehow I knew that the black man would be able to overtake me easily on his own terrain.
Without even looking over my shoulder I knew that the naked black man was coming closer to me. I knew that he would overtake me at any moment.
I could feel the wind rushing past my delicate pink nipples and I could feel the breeze blowing through my legs as the passing leaves brushed against my blonde snatch.
A moment later and I was on the ground with the bulky weight of the black man on top of me. I tried to cry out, but he paid no attention as he produced a lasso and tied me up.
He was then walking through the forest with me hog-tied and dangling over his shoulder. I could feel the strong sinews and the muscles of his shoulders.
I felt my young body steaming with desire as I watched the whiteness of my own flesh contrasted against the coal blackness of his flesh.
There I was bouncing up and down on his shoulder and once again I woke up.
During all of that running part of the dream I had so wanted to wake up. Now when I didn't want to wake up, I woke up anyway. It was becoming a torturous, teasing nightmare.
I had hardly slept at all that night. When I went to school the next morning I was bleary eyed. I jumped out of my skin when I saw Thaddeus standing at his post by the school door. He had become so real in my dream that I found I was more surprised to find him in his uniform than I would have been to have seen him naked.
I'm sure he was aware of the fact that I kept staring at his crotch as I passed him. I would have given anything at that point to have seen the fabulous black man naked.
I really didn't know what a cock looked like.
There was a boy who lived on my floor in the apartment building. He was the same age as I was. When we were twelve years old we had played together often.
One day we had one of those "I'll show you mine if you show me yours" things. I was so disappointed in seeing his tiny thing that I became uninterested in cocks.
My interest was revived by one of the girls in school. Her mother was divorced and had all sorts of those sexy magazines that have pictures of naked men. This girl used to sneak her mother's magazines into school.
All of us girls would get undressed in the locker room and we would look at the pictures of the naked men. Some of the girls would even start squeezing their pussy lips when they looked at the pictures. I just used to blush a lot.
That taught me that cocks really were big, beautiful things. But I still hadn't seen one in real life.
I could tell from the way that his uniform stood out in front that Thaddeus's cock would really be worth seeing. Aside from that, I had the problem of that darn dream. I kept dreaming that he was naked and I kept straining to see what his cock looked like, but his cock was always in the shadows.
Luck was with me that day. My science teacher needed a volunteer to stay for an extra half an hour to put away all of the lab equipment. I quiokly volunteered. Nobody else wanted to stay after school, anyway.
I put away the science things as fast as I could and then I went toward the front door of the school. I didn't leave the school, I just went in the direction of the front door.
When I saw that no one was looking, I snuck around to the steps that led to the basement.
I had once seen Thaddeus come in from his post. When he entered the school he went in the direction of the basement. I figured that there must be a room somewhere in the basement that Thaddeus used to change his clothes.
I went down to the basement. There was a long hallway. At one end was the school cafeteria and at the other end was the gymnasium and locker rooms. Along the hallway there were a number of rooms on both sides of the hall.
There were some large wooden planks leaning against one wall. I was able to slide behind the planks and wait. I didn't dare breathe too heavily for fear of knocking over the planks.
Fortunately, I didn't have to wait too long. I heard the door open that led from the stairs. Then I saw Thaddeus's back as he walked down the hall. He turned toward one of the rooms and, using a key in his pocket, he walked into the room.
I rushed out from behind the planks. I tried to peek into the keyhole of his changing room, but I could not see anything. It just looked like a jumble of big shapes.
I sighed in frustration. Maybe one of those big shapes was the black man's luscious cock.
Now that I knew which room it was that Thaddeus used for getting changed, it was information I would have to file away for the future.
I was going to go upstairs and leave the building so that I could watch him leave, but obviously men are faster at changing their clothes than women are. Before I knew what had happened, Thaddeus was coming out of his room.
"What are you doing here?" He said in his deep, rough voice.
"I'm working for one of the teachers." I suddenly became very aloof and snotty toward him. It was one of the privileges of being brought up in the right family and being a student in the right school.
Thaddeus had no interest in my work for a teacher and so he quickly left the building. That was lucky for me, because there weren't that many directions I could have gone in in the school basement.
When he left I was aware that he had not taken the time to lock his changing room. I rushed to the door and went in.
The room was an eight foot square. There were lockers along one wall. I noticed that aside from Thaddeus's locker, with his name on it, there were lockers for the men on the janitorial staff. Over to one side of the room there was a shower behind a glass enclosed door.
I opened Thaddeus's locker and found his uniform. I began rummaging through things. I didn't know just what I would find, but I was hoping to find a pair of his underpants. I would have loved to have sniffed his underwear and known what they smelled like.
I did find the key to the room. He had left it in his uniform pocket when he had changed into his street clothes. I quickly pocketed it. I now had access to the room where my big, black stud got undressed.
After sniffing at the crotch of his pants for a little while, I rushed out of the school and back home. I remembered that there were still janitors in the school and that they might find me in here when they came to get changed.
The previous night's lack of sleep had left me completely exhausted. On this night I fell asleep immediately, despite the hungry feeling in my cunt.
My dream began again. This time there was none of the running part. What was the point of dreaming about being chased when I already knew that he caught me?
I was being carried through the jungle, slung over Thaddeus's strong black shoulder. I could feel his muscles ripple and feel the contrast of our skins.
I was aware that the jungle was thinning out. Then that we were in a clearing and that there were native huts all around us. I was soon surrounded by dozens of howling black men. All of them were naked and all of them were making grabs at my body.
It never occurred to me to stop and wonder why there were no women or children in this village. By the same token it had never occurred to me to wonder why I was in the African jungle in the first place.
Dreams and fantasies are funny that way.
Thaddeus tossed my naked body down on a rock in the middle of the village and all of the other men surrounded us. It was obvious that since Thaddeus had caught me in the jungle, I was his property.
I was spread out on a rock. Four different large black men held down my limbs. Thaddeus's enormous hand grabbed roughly at the delicate blonde snatch. He toyed with my pussy hairs and then he toyed with his cock.
Then he put his cock to the lips of my hot pussy. He shoved in hard.
Remember that I was a virgin at this time, so I really didn't know what fucking felt like. All I know is that it hurt a lot. His cock was enormous and it was ripping me apart. Meanwhile, the two black warriors who were holding my legs were pulling my legs even further apart.
I don't remember how long he stayed in me, but when he finished and got off of me I felt an incredible relief. Then, another big black man climbed on top of me.
I knew it was a dream and I kept trying to end it, but nothing I could do could make me wake up. One by one I was gang-raped by a whole tribe of African warriors!
INTERVIEW TWO
The next time that Andrea came to my office, she had her identity a little better defined. She stopped trying so hard to act like a grown-up and worldly woman. She wore a blouse and skirt that suited her age a little better.
Even dressed as she was, looking more like a fourteen year old than she had at our first interview, she looked very sensual and appealing.
Well, Doctor, now you know the whole dream. With slight variations I continued to dream that at regular intervals throughout the school year. It was always Thaddeus who captured me and he was always the first one to get to fuck me.
It was always Africans, although I have never even had a black friend, no less a black boyfriend. There aren't even any blacks in my school.
No matter how I tried to stop this dream, I continued to have it. Sometimes I would go for two weeks without dreaming about Thaddeus and his tribe, but then I would dream it again. There were times when I would dream this dream night after night for a week solid.
I tried ignoring Thaddeus completely and not even acknowledging him in the mornings and evenings. But then I decided that there was no point to that. The two times a day that I got to see Thaddeus were the only chances I got to memorize the sight of him and to try to guess the size of his cock.
Things went on at this standstill for months and months. I had forgotten about the key to the changing room, but I still kept it in my pocket. It was unobtrusively clipped among my other keys.
Then something happened that changed everything. It was like my fantasy coming true, but it was dreadful.
I had stayed very late after school, helping my science teacher. It must have been about five o'clock in the afternoon by the time I was done putting the laboratory equipment away and ready to leave the school. I looked out the window at our small schoolyard. Since it was spring I was not at all surprised to hear the sounds of people playing ball. I figured that it was some of the boys from school.
I looked and saw that it was Thaddeus and two of the janitors. The three of them were wearing their tee shirts and gym shorts, and they were playing basketball.
I said goodbye to my teacher and proceeded toward the front of the school. This time I knew exactly where I was going. I did not know how much longer Thaddeus and the two others would be playing basketball, but they certainly seemed to be in the middle of a game.
There was nobody around anywhere in the school. I dashed down to the basement and used the key to get into the changing room.
The room now had the pungent smell of male sweat.
I went right to Thaddeus's locker and began to rummage through his clothes. This time his uniform was joined by his dungarees. Inside his dungarees I found a pair of striped boxer shorts.
Taking the underpants from the locker, I put them to my nose. The smell of sweat and piss and maleness was very potent on the shorts.
During all of this time, and with all of these dreams, I had always fought back the urge to frig myself. But now, in the presence of this maleness, smelling the smell of Thaddeus's big black cock, my cunt was quivering with excitement.
I found myself pulling up my skirt and fingering the lips of my pussy that were pressing through the delicate cloth of my white panties. I was holding the man's boxer shorts to my nose and I began licking at the wet spots on the fabric.
It was at that moment that the door opened. Thaddeus was framed in the doorway. He had his gym shorts on and was pulling his tee shirt over his head. When his face was revealed to me, he looked at me in astonishment.
"What'chu doin' with my underpants, girlie?"
The two janitors came in behind Thaddeus. One of them smiled and said, "Can't you see, Tad. The girl is sniffin' your shorts!"
The other janitor closed the door as he said, "Why don'cha give her the real thing, Tad?"
When the man closed the door, I felt fear grip me. I felt that I was very vulnerable to the three angry looking men. I took my hand away from my panties and let my skirt drop back down. As an afterthought I put Thaddeus's underpants down on the bench that was nearby.
"You hot for it, girlie?" Thaddeus said.
"No!" I said in a broken voice.
"How did you get in here?" asked one of the janitors. He was a light-skinned black man who had a bushy head of hair and a very muscular body. His name was Joe. As he peeled off his shirt I discovered that he had a tattoo on his left arm. It showed a snake and a skull. I shivered with fright when I saw this.
The third man, a tall, youthful man named Ralph, locked the door.
"What'chall doin' there?" Thaddeus asked Ralph.
"Girlie here is hot for cock. We oughta oblige her."
"I don't wanna lose my job!" Thaddeus stated.
But Ralph and Joe did not wait around to hear what their friend had to say about it. They both fell on top of me. When I began to cry out, they picked up Thaddeus's boxer shorts from the bench and they stuffed them in my mouth.
I was choking on the foul cloth as the two brutal black men pulled off my clothes. They ran their hands all over my body. They pinched and kneaded my pink tits, and they jabbed their fingers into all of my soft and white flesh.
Thaddeus sat to the side, but I saw that he was playing with an enormous lump of flesh that had grown in his gym shorts.
I didn't have much time to pay attention to his crotch, because the other two black men were pulling my white panties tender the soft flesh of my thighs.
They both began to pull at the pussy flesh and play with the delicate blonde hairs that surrounded my snatch.
This is when Thaddeus stood up. The front of his shorts looked as if there were a tent-pole sticking up in it.
He said, "Well, as long as you guys are gonna do her anyhow, I don't see no harm in joinin' in."
My whole dream was about to come true. It was clear that the other two men looked up to the big, strong black man, because they let him through and were obviously going to let him fuck me first.
Thaddeus pulled off his gym shorts and he was wearing an athletic supporter underneath. The supporter did not give him much support because his hard meat was sticking out from the side of it.
He pulled at the elastic and then he slid out fo his jock strap.
I was lying on a bench, stripped naked and held down by two tough, black janitors.
Thaddeus was naked and standing over me. He was slowly stroking his ten inch cock. Even in my wildest dreams I had never imagined a cock to be that size. I certainly had not imagined a cock that size to take my cherry.
I shuddered as I felt him put the head of his immense tool against the virgin lips of my pussy. There was a little pre-cum on his cock head and he rubbed that around the entrance to my vagina so that it would be smoother.
He had only slid the first two inches of his cock into my hot hole, but already I was sure that he had ripped me apart.
It was when he made the next thrust that I felt my insides being slammed and broken open. I knew that he had taken my cherry.
The rest of the way was easy after that. The pain of my lost cherry kept aching all the way through. By the time he had the whole length of his stiff fuck-pole shoved inside of me, I could feel the sweat standing up on my brows.
He began to pull back out of me. I felt gooseflesh rise up all over my body as his big dick slid past the tender and supple flesh of my inflamed pussy.
Then, when only the head of his cock was still inside of me, he shoved hard and fast and pushed the whole length back up my hot twat. This time it hurt even more
The second time he shoved his dick up inside of me, it seemed to go even further and harder. I tried to scream with pain, but the filthy cloth in my mouth kept me from making a sound.
Thaddeus was fucking me in this wild and hot manner. He would pull everything but his cock head out of my pussy. Then, when his thick meat was clinging to my cunt lips, he would shove the whole length of his cock all the way into me.
I could feel the kinky hair on his very broad and strong chest as it squashed down my rounded and firm white breasts. I could feel his powerful, hairy thighs as they slammed repeatedly against my own softly fleshed thighs.
Then Joe, the light-skinned, muscular janitor, who was now also naked and waving his long and thick tan cock, pulled the dirty boxer shorts from my mouth.
I began to move my jaw around. It was a pleasure to feel my mouth freed from the filthy gag. But I had hardly moved my mouth at all when Joe mounted my face and put his cock head at my lips.
"No!" I cried out.
This had never been in my dream. All of the blacks in my dream had repeatedly fucked my pussy, but none of them had put their cocks in my mouth.
It was very foolish of me to cry out, because that gave Joe the opportunity that he needed to push his hard meat down my throat. I gagged and choked, but the sounds of this only seemed to turn on the hot-blooded black man.
Thaddeus had never stopped fucking my pussy throughout all of this. He had increased his speed, but he maintained the same technique.
Joe pulled his cock out of my mouth and pulled my body so that my head was hanging over the edge of the bench. He got on his knees on the floor and he put his cock to my mouth. Grabbing my jaw he forced my mouth open and slid the whole length of his blood-engorged meat into my throat.
He was able to slam all the way in so that his body was pressing against my face. I felt his heavy hanging balls against my nose and I felt his kinky black pubic hair scratching at my chin.
Joe began to fuck my mouth in much the same manner that Thaddeus was fucking my pussy. They were both pulling way out and then shoving in hard and fast. I wondered whether they were watching each other, or whether they could just feel the movements through my body, because as they developed they were fucking in exactly the same rhythm.
When they both pushed in, my whole body was stuffed with cock, and when they both pulled out, my whole body felt a great emptiness.
Then Thaddeus shoved hard and I felt his cock throb at the base. I felt a hot and moist spurt of cum splash inside of me.
My cunt had the strangest feeling. The lips were grabbing at his thick fuck-pole. The soft walls of flesh inside my pussy were expanding and pressing down on his cock. I felt a moisture inside of me and I knew that it was not just Thaddeus's cock juice.
I had cum for the first time.
I began to howl with a mixture of ecstasy and pain. No sound came from my mouth because I was too stuffed with Joe's thick meat. But I could feel my throat muscles tightening around Joe's cock head.
This apparently brought Joe off because I felt his cock give the same sort of shudder that I had felt in Thaddeus's. His steaming sperm slid down my throat before I could even fight him off.
Then, just like in that darn dream, Thaddeus pulled away from me. He left me to his two black friends. Joe and Ralph continued to fuck at my pussy and my mouth. Joe even shoved his huge dork up my ass, and that hurt like all hell.
While they were doing this to me, Thaddeus was taking a shower and getting dressed. He left without another word.
When the two others were finished with me, they let me get up and get dressed.
Joe snickered as he said, "Remember, if you say anything, it's your word against the three of us."
I did not wish to speak to them. As I was leaving the room, Joe added, "Come back and see us anytime," and he grabbed his cock to emphasize his meaning.
Since that time I have tried to talk to Thaddeus, but he avoids me like the plague. His two friends have made various leering remarks to me, and I try to ignore them.
My problem is really crazy, Doctor. I want Thaddeus. It is obvious that Thaddeus thinks I'm nothing but trash because of the way I got to him, intruding in the dressing room and getting gang-raped by him and his two friends.
I keep dreaming about the big, stud black man all the time. I know that there are no boys in school who can compare to him.
CONCLUSION
Andrea has a number of problems and none of them is going to be solved easily. The fact that she is sexually turned on to blacks is not a great disaster these days. The fact that she is a fourteen year old girl who is anxious to have a relationship with a specific adult black man, is a problem.
She keeps emphasizing the fact that she had never even had any black friends, and yet her fantasies take her back to Africa where she would be the outsider in a black world.
Andrea is obviously rebelling against the life she has known and the world she has known. She needs to meet different types of people and associate with different worlds. She has been stifled too long among the rich upper crust in the 'right schools'.
Once this girl has a chance to meet people of a variety of backgrounds and types, she will be better prepared to choose a sex partner.
CASE HISTORY SIX
SUBJECT; Laurie A. AGE; Fifteen
INTERVIEW ONE
When Laurie first came into my office I correctly identified her as a "California Golden Girl". Her long and fluffy brown hair was streaked with golden and silver highlights.
She was extremely slender, and all of her skin was very taut and well-tanned. She had very pointy breasts. Since she was wearing a very tight tank top with no bra it was plain to see that her erect nipples and her breasts were very firm indeed.
All of her clothes were tight and emphasized her well exercised body. She was just on the verge of maturing into a very stunning woman.
I don't know where to begin, Doctor. I don't know if I can honestly say that I enjoy sex when I'm with a boy. I mean, at first the feeling is nice of having that rubbing against the very tender walls of my vagina, but then it gets so damn boring for me.
What is a girl supposed to think about while she lies there, or kneels or bends over or whatever other position she tries?
My mind wanders all the time. I find that I don't even think of the boy that I'm with, except of course to cast him in different parts. Most guys think that I'm being romantic when I close my eyes during sex, but the truth of the matter is that I'm just blocking them out and blocking out the setting.
I want to be fucked under some sort of exotic conditions.
There is one favorite fantasy of mine and I seem to use it all the time. I fantasize it when I'm getting fucked and I fantasize it when I'm fingerfucking myself at night.
The first time I ever thought of this fantasy was when I was with a guy named Chris. Chris was a real hunk of man. He was solidly built and hairy. He was already in his twenties and my folks would have killed me if they had known that I was seeing someone that old.
But Chris never had to come to my house, so my folks never knew about him. He was just one of the beach bums up around Malibu where I used to hang out.
I happen to be very into surfing. Chris, by the way, is an excellent surfer.
We had known each other for a little while when he suggested that he could drive me up to a really special beach. He explained that all of the beaches up along the coast were along the indentation of land that was known as the Los Angeles Basin. If you drove far enough north you would be past the basin and you would be getting waves from the real Pacific Ocean.
I may have some of the geography wrong. Geography was never my strong subjects in school.
So we got into this little car that he had and we drove up to an area around Zuma beach. When I saw the water that was hitting the beach I knew that Chris was right. It was a much brighter blue than the water further south.
I wanted to jump into the ocean right there, but Chris told me we had to walk further. We kept going from one beach to another. I didn't understand why they didn't have a parking lot any closer to this beach that Chris wanted to show me, but apparently they didn't.
Each beach we passed was less and less occupied, although I did see a lot more people coming and going toward some further point.
Finally we came to what appeared to be the very last beach. Beyond it was a rugged bluff of rocks.
When Chris began to climb up the rocks, I absolutely refused to go one step further. This seemed ridiculous. After all, I was brought up in California. I don't think I had ever walked so much in my life.
"The beach is right over these rocks," he insisted.
"Well, have a good time," I said, "I'll hitch a ride back to Malibu."
I was so pissed at him that he had to talk to me for ten minutes before I would agree to climb over the rocks with him. When I finally agreed to it, it was only because he promised to drive me back to Malibu if I wanted to leave this beach after five minutes.
He practically carried me up the rocks. I climbed up and up. When I reached the top I saw that I had to climb down the other side in order to get to the beach. When I stopped to look at the beach the first thing that surprised me weas the number of people that were there.
This whole crowd had trekked across that expanse of empty beach to get to this furthest one of all. It took me a moment before I focused my eyes and realized that almost everyone on this beach was stark naked.
I had seen cocks before. It had been a little while since I had lost my virginity. But I had never seen so many cocks all so beautifully displayed. Boys ran back and forth along the shore. They played football and they tossed frisbees. I watched as a completely tanned, trim boy jumped up to catch a frisbee. I was watching as his cock swung up in the air.
There were multitudes of beautiful girls. All of them had gorgeous boobs that were toasted in the sun. Most of them even exposed their snatches and they had no tan lines at all.
When Chris and I settled in among the others, he slid his swim trunks down his strong, hairy legs. I stared at his long and thick penis. A girl really knew exactly what she was getting when she went to this beach.
"Come on," Chris said, "don't be chicken."
I was always proud of my tits. They happen to be very large for my age and they are beautifully formed and have lovely, delicately rosy nipples at the end. But in this instance I was embarrassed to have people see that my breasts were so white compared to the rest of me. I knew that that would tag me as one of the people who wore a bathing suit.
Chris wrestled me on the beach and he began tickling me. Nobody seemed to care that our wrestling was getting very sexual. His cock was obviously growing, and I was getting some jealous looks from nearby naked girls.
I figured that I had to compete with them m their own ground, so I stripped down completely. Chris lay on his stomach now since he had a huge erection that he was trying to hide.
I saw that some other boys nearby were licking their lips as they looked at me. I loved to be admired, so this beach was a real find for me.
"What the heck is this?" I asked him.
"This is Pirate's Cove. In olden times it was a place where pirates came to hide, because it was so isolated."
"And now?"
"Now, it's part of Zuma Beach. Legally it's a state beach and it is illegal to be nude, but since the only entrance to the beach is over those rocks," he said as he pointed the rocks we had just trudged over, "it really isn't too feasible for the police to raid the beach for nudity or drugs or beer or anything else that goes on here."
"Well, no one here seems to mind it," I said.
"The only people who can get to this nude beach are people who specifically set out to get here. There is no innocent little ten year old who is going to wander accidentally into all this naked flesh."
I nodded my head. I could certainly see Chris's point. People in the state who were opposed to nude beaches were usually the same people who sat in their stuffy parlors with all their clothes on anyway. It certainly didn't seem harmful to anyone to have this nude beach here.
Anyhow, who would want a nude beach where there are children around? Not only am I not interested in corrupting children, but I also would resent having them ogle my boobs like I was a freak show.
I told all of this to Chris and he told me that I was now an official nude beach person.
His cock had calmed down enough for him to stand up and take me on a tour of the rest of the beach.
Actually, you can see the entire beach from the high point of the rocks that overlook the beach. The only thing to tour are the people. My cunt was aching as I looked at every hunky guy, and I could see Chris's cock jerk to life as he eyed every set of naked tits.
When we had walked the full length of the beach we were at another wall of rock. He told me that I should climb up with him and he would show me the area beyond the beach.
We slowly walked over the treacherous rocks. Occasionally there would be other people who had been walking along. We passed a group of naked teenaged boys who looked at us jealously. We passed two beautiful naked girls who were walking back in the other direction and holding a very serious conversation.
We passed two lovers who were obviously making out when we had interrupted them. After that, we turned another corner of rocks and were in a very secluded area.
I looked down and quickly saw that Chris's cock was hard as iron. I fell to my knees and began to suck and lick at his cock head. I took my lips from his cock and he brought his fist along the shaft to beat it off.
My mouth found his heavy hanging balls and I took one of them between my lips. I ran my tongue around his ball and then I pressed it against the roof of my mouth.
Even over the pounding of the ocean waves, I could hear Chris moaning. I took his other ball in my mouth. My teeth began nipping at the delicate flesh that surrounded the hard testicle. His hands moved to my head. I knew that I had him too turned on and horny for his own good.
Chris laid me on my back. I felt the chill of a mossy tide pool beneath me. Each time the water splashed up against the rock, a bit of it would remain in this little indentation in the rock.
The big man gently lowered himself on top of me. I felt his hard and strong, hairy chest press down my beautifully pointed tits. His tongue pressed against my lips and I opened my mouth to admit him.
His tongue entered my mouth and began to wrestle together with my tongue. My tongue pushed hard against his, but it was clear that his was the stronger. Finally, he pulled his tongue back and permitted my tongue to enter his mouth.
Then, he reached down between my legs and began to play with the tender flesh on my pussy lips. I reached down and gently stroked his cock.
Our two tongues were joined in a mutual moan. The sound vibrated from one mouth to the other, so that we really could not even determine which one of us was moaning with delight.
I placed the head of his cock at the lips of my hot vagina.
He did the rest. He lifted his strong hips and then he thrust them forward, sliding his cock head in, and separating my cunt lips as he did so.
I lifted my ass out of the tide pool as best I could. He kept slipping his meat into me a little at a time, and our tongues kept mingling in our two mouths.
Finally I felt his balls resting against the soft flesh between my thighs. He relaxed his body and rested it firmly on me. I knew that he was getting ready to begin to fuck me.
I looked up at that handsome, dark face that was above me. I wrapped my arms around his strong and muscular back. I listened to the sound of the waves.
Chris whispered, "I'm gonna fuck your pussy," so softly that I only heard it by reading his lips. Then he brought his mouth down hard against my mouth.
He could not hear me whispering to myself. He did not know that my mind was already traveling off to a distant place.
My fantasy began on a small raft. There had been a shipwreck and the few survivors were on this raft. It was dark night and the waves were blowing up all around us. As I looked around at the half-dozen frightened faces I was aware that I was the only woman on the raft. The rest of the survivors were all sailors from the ship.
Somehow we land on a beach. I am glad then to be with all of these sailors since I am frightened of the dangers that this deserted island may hide. The crew members know how to set up a makeshift shelter and begin to search for food.
Within a few hours of our landing on the beach, we are all huddling around a fire, eating bananas and coconuts. My clothes are still wet.
I have ignored the fact that a lot of the men have stripped off parts of their soaking clothing. All of the men are shirtless, revealing well-muscled chests in all different colors. Some of the men have stripped off their pants. None of them wear the jockey shorts that my boyfriends all wear. They are rough seamen and they either wear boxer shorts or long white underwear with button flies.
"You oughta get outa them wet duds, Miss," One of the sailors says.
I look at him. It is Chris and he is wearing a pair of boxer shorts. Perhaps it is actually his blue surfing trunks. The rest of his body is bare. I can see the massive chest with the thick hair and the powerful legs. I am also painfully aware of the huge erection that is sticking up in his shorts.
"I'll be all right," I answer softly.
"If you go and get a cold, there ain't nobody here can care for you." He snickered.
"Maybe we oughta help her outa her clothes!" A youthful sailor calls out.
The rest of the group begins laughing. It is a relief to have been saved from the storm, but there is still tension at what might be only my fantasy. I am once again a virgin. I remember the fear that I felt when I first got my cherry popped. I pull back from the men.
A bunch of the shipwrecked sailors pounce on me and begin to pull at my clothes and feel my flesh.
Chris raises a hand and stops them. "That ain't the way, mates."
The other men keep holding me down as Chris reasons with me. "All of us are shipwrecked here," Chris begins. "No telling how long we'll be stuck here. There are certain things that we need. We need food and shelter and something to do with our cocks."
He takes a long pause while he lets that sink in. "You're stuck on this island like the rest of us. Only one difference. We know how to survive and you don't."
This is when I begin to cry. Chris does not react to my tears, he just proceeds with his explanation, "We can leave you to die, unless you serve us!"
INTERVIEW TWO
Laurie called me and asked if she could move her next appointment up a few days. Fortunately I had an opening so I was able to see her that same day.
You don't know what it feels like, Doctor, to reveal all of this finally. I couldn't bear to wait for our second appointment, because now that I began to tell you about my fantasy I just wanted it all to pour out.
The last time I spoke to you, we had gotten as far as the beach after the shipwreck. This was the fantasy that I was experiencing while Chris was fucking me on the deserted part of the nude beach.
In my fantasy, Chris made me do a striptease for the shipwrecked sailors. I peel away my clothes. Some of the men clap out a rhythm for me to strip to. Most all of the men keep feeling at their swelling cocks. They are beginning to pull their hard cocks out of their pants and shorts.
Everyone sitting around me has a rock hard penis, and they are all stroking themselves in the light of the campfire.
I am dancing in my panties. My beautifully pointed breasts are casting strange shadows across my white flesh as I move around in the firelight. I am afraid to pull down my panties. Remember that I am a virgin in this fantasy. I know that when I take down my panties it will be all over.
The men begin shouting demands that I peel off the last bit of clothes from my body. I turn my back and pull down my underwear. There are hoots and howls. Then the men stand up and fling me around.
I feel a hard cock hit against the naked flesh of my leg. I shout out, but I know that I am on a desert island. I know that there is no hope that anyone will hear me call out.
Chris orders the men to stop their attack on me.
"We have to teach this girl to be a good servant for us!" He announces. The men all follow his command for some reason. He wants to have a meeting to discuss the things that they will need on the island. Despite the fact that I am naked and all of the men have their swollen cocks hanging out, they all sit in a circle to hold their meeting.
Almost as an afterthought, Chris orders me into the center of the circle. I am to kneel before him. I see that he is pulling his shorts down and revealing his stiff cock.
He takes my head in his rough hands and he puts my mouth to the head of his cock.
Finally I protest. I say, "No, I refuse to do such a thing."
His voice is very calm and even as he says, "If you do not serve us we have no use for you. I can leave you alone on this island to starve." He paused and then he said, "Suck on that hard cock!"
I took the wide cock head in my mouth and felt like I was already going to gag. He pushed on the back of my head and suddenly I had the whole length of his hard meat in my throat.
I pulled back and realized that he was not paying any attention to me. He was holding his meeting with the other men in the circle. I could feel all the other men looking at my naked body as I sucked on Chris's huge dick.
There was no choice for me. I was completely at the mercy of the men on this island. I forced myself to plunge downward on his cock. I began to move my mouth up and down on his cock in a fucking motion.
He just sat there with his legs crossed, while I did all the work. Up and down my mouth went. I could feel the vibration of his talking as I sucked on his hard penis.
Then, he suddenly stopped talking. All of the other men stopped talking. I knew that they were all watching me. Chris's huge hand shoved at the back of my head and pushed me all the way down on his hard meat.
I felt his big, heavy balls press against my chin. I felt his pubic hair going up my nostrils. The base of his cock gave a powerful heave and soon I felt a spurt of cum hit the back of my throat.
Although I tried to struggle and keep from swallowing his hot load of gism, his hand was strong and my face was fully impaled on his stiff fuck-rod.
"You've gotta learn that you don't waste a drop of that delicious cock juice," Chris snarled as his dick pumped on and on into my servile mouth.
When he finally stopped cumming, he pulled my face off of his cock and then he pushed me to the left. When I looked up I saw that a handsome young man sitting next to Chris was holding his enormous prick in his hand.
Nobody had to tell me what to do. I knew that I was expected to suck on that next man's cock. When he had shot his load down my delicate mouth, I turned automatically to the left and began to suck the cock of the next shipwrecked sailor in the circle.
I went around the six men in the circle. When I had sucked and swallowed all of the cum out of the six cocks, I returned to Chris.
He smiled and said, "You've done well. You shall be a good servant for us to have on this island. You will be expected to take care of all of our cocks every day."
Then I was back on the California beach and Chris was there on top of me pumping his hard dick into my pussy slit. I had thrown my long legs around his hairy back and he was slamming his meat into me fast and hard.
I felt his cock grow larger and then I felt the splash of warming cum shoot into my hot pussy slit. The walls of my vagina pressed tight around his hard meat. I was cumming. My pussy juice was lubricating his last orgasmic thrusts.
It was a fabulous, clinging, messy cum. Chris thought that it was all because of him. That was partly true. But it was also because I was a defenseless slave on a deserted island. It was also because he had made me serve his cock and the cocks of all of the other sailors who were shipwrecked with us.
Chris had never guessed that I had been dreaming of all of those other things while he was fucking me.
We climbed over the rocks carefully. The waves had grown much wilder since it was later in the day.
When we got back to the beach where all of the naked bodies were still swimming and sunbathing and playing frisbee, Chris and I went into the waves to wash the after-affects of sex off of our bodies.
"Come on," Chris said, "it's time for us to go."
"No!" I whimpered.
He insisted on going and I insisted on staying. I had never been around so much nudity and I was feeling wonderful and sexy. I didn't want the day to end.
In the past I had always been able to manipulate men with my whining and whimpering, but Chris was a little too strong for that. He left. I knew that I could easily find a ride back down toward Malibu, so I didn't worry about being left alone on the beach.
Now I was free to ogle all of the naked cocks. Pirate's Cove was certainly the place to find out that all men were not created equal.
The three teenaged boys who had been walking along the rocks when Chris and I first went out there to have sex, were all sitting on a blanket right next to the rocks. Since I'm such a tease I decided to go out on the rocks. I passed very close to the boys and noticed that all of their cocks were at least slightly rampant.
I climbed up on the rocks and felt three sets of teenaged eyes looking at my exposed pussy slit as I spread my legs. I turned around and looked back at the boys.
Since it was later in the afternoon, I only saw one or two people along the length of the rocks. When I sat down against a rock and began to watch the waves, I soon saw that the three teenagers were following me.
The three of them stood along the narrow ridge of rock. I looked to my left. The rocks went off for a short distance further, but then came to a dead end. I looked to my right. The three teenagers were standing, blocking my way.
I stood up and walked right toward the three boys, though I did not look at them. I was acting very snooty and looking right through them.
"Pardon me," I said, "I'd like to pass."
"What's your hurry?" One of the boys said. As I looked at him I realized that he was blatantly playing with his cock.
I tried to push through the line of boys who were blocking my way. But the three of them pushed me back so that I fell on the rocks and scraped my elbow.
The next thing I knew, there was a big blonde boy on top of me. His cock head was pressing against the lips of my pussy. He thrust in and in one long sliding motion he pushed the entire length of his cock up my hot cunt.
I shouted out. My scream was loud and long, but I knew that no one could hear me over the sound of the waves. All three of the boys fucked my pussy and then they each took another turn and one fucked my pussy while the other two took turns fucking my mouth.
All through the rape I kept calling out, but I knew that there was nobody close enough to hear or to save me. There was no way out.
I had gotten the fantasy that I wanted.
Although I was on the California coast, it was the closest I would find to a deserted island spot. And there was no one who could save me from the inevitable rape in the desolate location.
To be perfectly honest, Doctor, I have returned to that beach at least once a week through the summer. Things don't happen every time I am there, but I will often walk out onto the lonely rocks and invite a secluded sexual encounter in the outdoor location.
I've continued seeing Chris, but I never feel in the mood for sex when we're in his apartment or his car. I always want some outdoor spot where I can imagine that I've been stranded.
How can I deal with this fantasy?
CONCLUSION
Laurie's problems are twofold.
The girl wants sex outdoors. This is not uncommon. The outdoors can be very exciting because it is a dangerous place to have sex. It can also be sensual because of its beauty. However, most people use the outdoors as a change of pace. Most people settle for outdoor sex when they happen to have a secluded backyard at their disposal, and find it exciting because it is different from their usual bedroom setting.
While outdoor sex can be good for variety it is a problem on a full-time basis.
Laurie's other fascination seems to be in playing the part of a girl who has been forced to 'serve'. She is not only completely at the sexual mercy of the man involved, she is also a servant because of the desperate position she puts herself in, (a shipwreck victim).
This is doubtlessly a reaction to the fact that she is a spoiled girl who always gets her way with men by whining and whimpering, (her own words). Neither of these positions is a very healthy one. It is not good for a woman to be a servant, nor is it good for her to be a 'castrating bitch'.
This girl's main hope here would be if she is able to find a man who is strong and understanding enough to develop a healthy 50/50 relationship with her.
CASE HISTORY SEVEN
SUBJECT; Phyllis F. AGE; Nineteen
INTERVIEW ONE
When Phyllis first came into my office, I was impressed that she looked the very picture of a girl on her way to becoming a happy housewife.
Her long, brown hair was neatly trimmed and her skirt was neatly pressed. She might have easily lost ten pounds, but she carried her weight well. The fullness in her hips had a very sensual quality.
I had to be impressed with her neatness. Everything about her was well appointed and calm. I was startled when I heard what was going on inside of her. I discovered that this lovely young woman was really a raging volcano.
I will try to be honest with you, Doctor. It is so easy to tell lies, especially about my sexual fantasies.
Let me rephrase that. I don't exactly tell lies, I just don't exactly tell the truth. Especially not to George, my husband.
You see, I was always a good girl. No boy even expected much of me. I was the kind of girl that just gave a boy a kiss on the first date. I let him feel me up on the third date and I never even touched his cock until we were going steady.
Of course, during all that time I was dying to get fucked. I was frigging my cunt every night, and my panties were covered with gooey cunt juice by the time I got home from a hot date. But I stayed good and I never let men do too much with me.
George never even got a chance to fuck me until we were engaged. When he did that was the time that I lost my cherry. Honestly, it was all that I could have hoped for. George's cock is long and thick and really stretched out my pussy lips when he first put it in there.
To this day he still fucks me every night, and we've been married for more than a year. There's really no reason that I should go out looking for more, but I do.
What my real fantasy is, is exposing myself.
I dream of walking down the street naked and of everybody looking at me.
I've always had a beautiful body. I had the best developed set of tits in the whole high school and I've still kept my trim waist and curved hips. George loves to fuck in front of a mirror so that we can watch ourselves. I especially love that, because I love the fact that he's watching me.
Sometimes I'm standing in a crowded elevator with a bunch of men, and I start thinking of what it would be like if I were to pull up my dress and pull down my panties so that they could all see my twat.
Just thinking about me always gets me off. By the time that I get out of the elevator my panties are all juiced up.
Sometimes I go around the city with no panties at all. I know that I would never dare to pull up my dress in a crowded street, but with no panties on it gives me the strange knowlege that if I should ever give in to the urge to pull up my dress, it will be a very easy thing to do.
When I was in high school, I used to take forever in the girl's locker room after gym class. Even though there were only girls there and no boys, I still loved showing off my body.
I knew that I was the sexiest girl there. I looked over the other girls when they were in the showers and it was clear that I had the firmest and shapeliest breasts, as well as the most lush patch of dark brown pubic hairs and the nicest ass.
The girls in school used to complain that I was stuck up and snooty, but the boys never seemed to complain.
At night I would turn off the lights and finger-fuck myself under the covers of my bed. I would remember the way that I paraded around in the locker room, giving everybody a chance to see my naked twat.
I would imagine some mix-up where I would strip naked in a locker room and then discover that it was the boy's locker room. All the boys would appear and would get to see me. Part of the fantasy would have me pretending to be embarrassed and trying to cover over my bare twat. But I would always do a lousy job of covering my snatch, so that all the boys would get a good look.
Actually, even though I had a reputation for being a 'good girl' in high school, I used to give the boys a lot of chances to grab peeks at me.
When I knew that there was a boy sitting opposite me and that he was looking, I would accidentally spread my legs so that he could look up my dress and see my panties.
Sometimes I would inadvertently bend over so that a boy could see my panties when my short skirt billowed up. I would also do that when I had a scoop necked blouse on. The boys would be able to see my bra, when the blouse flopped down.
That was in the days when I was still wearing bras and panties. But it's okay because I know the way high school boys are. I know how hot they got over a shot of my panties or my bra.
Sometimes I would see a boy put his hand in his pocket and try to juggle around his hard cock after he got a glance at my beaver.
They did it all the time!
I didn't mind at all.
I'm a nice girl and not supposed to know what the boy was doing.
I got away with quite a lot of things under the guise of being a nice girl.
I guess that this whole thing started when I was a little girl.
When I was only nine years old I saw my older sister coming out of the shower. I suppose that I had seen her hundreds of times before that, but for some reason it affected me then and there. Perhaps it was some hormonal thing that was happening in my body and was making me more aware of the flesh around me.
I was very aware of the girl's beautiful tits and her patch of wispy and youthful pubic hair. She was drying herself and she shouted, "What are you staring at, Phyllis? Are you some kind of lezzie?"
I ran from the bathroom crying. I had no idea what her words meant, but I knew that they were full of vindictiveness.
It's funny as I think back on it, that I grew up much prettier than my sister. Her tits stayed rather small, although they did seem enormous to a nine year old child.
I was determined to find out about bodies.
There was a boy who lived down the street. His name was Harold, and although he was one year older than I he would sometimes play with me.
Harold and I were out in the garage looking through the old toys that I had there, when I decided to take the initiative with the boy.
"What do you have down there?" I asked the ten year old, pointing at his crotch.
"What do you mean?" Harold asked defensively.
"Do you have a hole down there?"
"None of your business!" he said.
"I'll tell you what I've got, if you tell me what you've got."
This offer was too good for Harold to turn down. "Okay," he said, "but you first."
"Why should I go first? I asked you first."
"But it was your idea." Harold was adamant. "Unless you tell me first, I won't tell you nothing!"
"Well," I gritted my teeth, "I've got a hole."
"Okay," he blushed, "I've got a thing that hangs down."
"What does it look like?" I was anxious to know.
"What does yours look like?"
I wasn't even interested in the fact that I had asked him first. I went right ahead and told him. "It has these pink lips that kind of come out a little bit, and it's what I pee from. Now what about yours?"
"I don't know," he shrugged his shoulders. "I can't really describe it."
"That's no fair!" I pouted. "I told you all about mine." Then I had a thought, "You oughta let me see yours."
"I can't let a girl see my thing!"
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," I coyly said.
He insisted that we both had to open our pants at exactly the same moment. He counted to three as both of our sets of youthful eyes were riveted on each other's crotch. Then I revealed the few inches of my pink and white flowered panties, as he revealed a few inches of his standard white undershorts.
Then, still staring at each other to be certain that neither of us exposed an inch more than the other did, we slid our pants down until they were around our thighs.
Harold was a bit chubby, but to tell the truth I also had a bit of baby fat on my legs.
I can still remember the knot that was in my stomach as I put my fingers in the elastic waistband of my little girl panties. I watched to be sure that Harold put his fingers in his own elastic waistband.
"On your honor, you're really going to pull yours down?" He asked hesitantly.
I smiled and nodded. I should have screamed at him, "Yes, you clod! I'm dying to pull them down! I want you to see my pussy!" Because that was the truth.
He counted to three and we both went through with it. His little, flaccid penis did not look very attractive or appealing to me. He was bug-eyed. He got down on his knees, totally fascinated by the pink skinned and hairless pouting pussy lips.
Just at that moment my mother called from the back door, saying, "What are you children doing in there?"
Both of us rushed to pull up our pants and underpants. I called back, "Nothing, mom!"
And she shouted, "Then I want you out of there and in the sunshine!"
To this day I am not certain if my mother had a special x-ray vision, or if she was just saying the same thing she said every other day. To our guilty childhood ears we heard our jail sentences being read off to us.
We were outside in a flash and we both had our pants pulled back up. But I know that I was certain that I had guilt all over my face and that I probably had my pants on backwards.
Harold must have felt a similar guilt because he didn't see me or play with me for months afterwards. When we did start seeing each other again, I was already ten years old and we never mentioned anything of my nine year old indiscretion.
For three years after that I had tried to forget about sex. Whenever I was in a dressing room situation I was always anxious to get glances at other women's bodies. I also was always proud to display my slim and athletic body in any situation like that.
It was when I was twelve that I had my next opportunity to expose myself. Once again it was with Harold.
My mother had gotten a job and my older sister was going to the late shift at the high school, so I had the whole house to myself when I got home from school.
Even though Harold was a year ahead of me in school, he was never very good at math. He came over for me to help him study for a test. As it happened, we were both in the same level math class and we both had the same textbook.
As usually happens with kids on a rainy afternoon in a basement, we easily got distracted from the math studies. We studied for about a half an hour, which was all that was really needed anyway.
Then we began to play cards. I had learned to play poker and was winning all of the wooden matches from Harold's pile.
Harold was getting tired of the game, but I was excited over playing poker and so I wanted to continue.
"It's no fun playing for matches," he complained.
"Why not?"
"Because with matches you don't care whether you win or lose."
"That's why people usually play for money," I explained. "Do you have any money with you?"
"I have forty-five cents, but that's my lunch money for tomorrow." He said.
"Well," I began coyly, "We could play for clothes."
"For clothes?" The boy was astonished. "Sure, didn't you ever hear of strip poker?"
I replied.
Harold did not have to be coaxed into this.
After a few hands, Harold was sitting in his jockey shorts and I was sitting in a pair of lime green panties and my training bra. I was very pleased that I had the bra on. At a time like this, being exposed to a boy, I was glad that I was not stuck in an undershirt like most of the other girls in school.
Since I still had two pieces of clothing on and he had one piece, it looked like I might win. But my next hand was a dud and my training bra had to come off.
I had butterflies in my stomach, but I was also very excited over the boy getting to see my little rosebud nipples. His eyes looked like they would pop out of his head when he saw the little rounded bumps that were my newly developing breasts.
We dealt the next hand, knowing that one of us would be naked when the hand was over.
Which of us would it be?
I lost.
Something deep inside of me was delighted. I stood up and pulled my green panties down. The cool pastel was a sharp contrast to my young and pink flesh. I had a few wisps of pubic hair. Even though the hairs were brown, their sparseness made them look golden blonde in the light.
Harold whistled through his teeth.
He had hardly taken a look when he was up and pulling his clothes on. He was already pulling his pants over the protruding rod that was in the front of his underpants, before I even had my panties pulled back on.
"What's the matter?" I asked, feeling very hurt by his curt manner.
"I've gotta go home," Harold mumbled.
"Don't you wanna play another game and give me a chance to win?" I asked.
"No!" he answered, and was already up the stairs and out the door before I even got my pants back on.
Thinking back on that little incident that happened all those years ago, I imagine that he went home to jerk off. He probably couldn't hold onto his cum much longer once he had actually seen my pussy.
Even though I hadn't even gotten a chance to see his cock, that scene was such a turn-on to me, that I fingerfucked myself for the first time.
Even though I was so young when that happened, I still get horny every time I think about it.
INTERVIEW TWO
When Phyllis called to cancel our next appointment, I refused to let her. I knew that she was frightened to go on with her story, and I would not permit her to put it off.
At our next meeting she looked a little frazzled. Her hair was not as neatly combed and she looked as if she hadn't slept well the previous night'. Even so, she was still a very appealing woman.
I noticed that she kept spreading her legs as she sat opposite me. Considering the short skirt that she was wearing, it was easy to see that she wore no panties. In the name of professional discipline I tried not to look too much.
Well, Doctor, the last meeting with you was easy compared to this. I mean, to tell you the things that I did when I was twelve years old was a simple matter.
All twelve year olds do little naughty things, but they grow out of them. I already told you about the things I did in high school. That was mostly just parading around naked in the girl's locker room and giving boys a chance to peek up my skirt or down my blouse.
Now that I'm a happily married woman I feel all of these tensions piling up on me.
I told you before that it was very easy to lie to my husband, or at least to tell him half the truth. I can give you loads of examples.
The most important example relates to all of this. He's always making little jokes or remarks about the fact that I parade around the house half-dressed. I tell him that I just find it more comfortable to be that way.
He has no idea that I get a sexual thrill out of my exposing myself.
George was shocked that I wanted to sleep naked when he married me. He always wore pajama bottoms and he continued to wear them after we got married. So I ended up buying these very sheer nightgowns that are only one step away from being naked. I toss around at night so that the nightgown ends up rolled up above my boobs.
In the end I am almost sleeping nude, but George is not able to complain about it. After all, it isn't my fault if the nightgown fabric gets all tangled up around my body.
It's not that George is a prude. He is fabulous at fucking and he has a great tongue for eating pussy. It's just that he says that he doesn't want to risk anything happening to me. He's afraid that I'll have some problem if I keep going around half-dressed all the time.
George still doesn't know that some things have already happened because of my insane urge to expose myself.
The first incident was last Summer. There was a teenaged boy who came by three times a week to take care of our lawn. He trimmed the hedges and mowed the lawn.
Chuck was really a very good-looking boy, with sandy hair and a chunky body. I often noticed him staring at my body, and since being stared at was one of my favorite things, I made a point of wearing very skimpy clothes when the boy was around.
Our backyard is very secluded with high shrubs on one side and a brick wall on the other side. The other two sides of the yard are covered by our house and the garage. I always enjoyed sunbathing in the yard.
On the days that Chuck would be working around the yard I would wear my smallest bikini.
One day, George had left a note asking Chuck to take care of some chore in the garage. He wanted the boy to put up some shelves.
When I looked into the garage I saw that Chuck was perspiring terribly. He had taken off his shirt and his pants were slipping down, revealing the top of his underwear.
I could see the front of his pants stiffen out as he saw my lean and sexy body in my tiny bikini. I had brought him a cool drink since I knew that he had to work for quite a while longer in the garage.
I went to the backyard and I put out my lounge chair so that I could lay in the sun. I laid on my stomach and I undid my bra strap so that I wouldn't have any tan line. I closed my eyes and began to doze off.
After about ten minutes I became aware of some slight movement by the garage. Fortunately I did not look up and I did not open my eyes fully. If I had, it would have ruined everything.
My head was facing the direction of the garage. There was one tiny window in the side of the garage and I could see that Chuck was standing by the window and staring intently at me. I looked at him through half-closed eyes so that he would think that I was still asleep.
Even with my eyes half-closed I could tell that his right arm was moving in rapid rhythm. The boy was jacking off as he looked at mme!
Just knowing this made my pussy start to steam up. I did not want him to stop and I did not want him to know that I knew what he was doing. He wanted to be a 'peeping torn' and I was being a female 'flasher'.
I groggily turned onto my side, pretending that I was sound asleep as I did so. Since my bra was undone, my tits were now fully exposed to the garage window. I kept my head lacing the same direction, and I was careful not to open my eyes any further and give away the fact that I was peeping at the peeper.
I saw that Chuck moved away from the window right after I moved. I cursed myself for making the boy stop. Then I saw him move back to the window. His arm began to fiddle with something and then he once again began the rhythmic movements which I knew meant that he was beating his meat.
There was one further thrill I had to give to the boy. I had to be very careful not to scare him away from the window by making him think that I was awake.
Very casually, I kept moving my free arm around. Then I put my arm down so that my hand fell across my crotch. I pressed my hand against my pussy lips, although they were tightly confined in the bikini panties.
Then I began to rub the front of my panties. I rubbed slowly so that the boy could assume that I was doing it in my sleep. Even though I wasn't pressing hard, I soon felt the moisture flowing that meant that I was cumming.
My panties were full of my cunt cream.
I looked through my lazy, half-closed eyes, toward the garage window. The boy was no longer there. I wondered if he had been scared off, or if he had finished what he had set out to do.
It was a half an hour later that Chuck left for the day. He was a little nervous when he left and he did not look me in the face.
As soon as the boy had left, I rushed into the garage. Right underneath the window I found a sticky spot that had been wiped with some rag. The rag had only spread the moist goo around. There was no doubt that it was the boy's cum that he had shot on the wall.
I ran my finger over the shiny spot. It had dried already, but I enjoyed the knowledge of knowing that I had had a masturbation session with my youthful gardener. Even though he thought I was asleep.
The next incident was a little more serious. Actually it was a lot more serious. Masturbating together is nothing compared to getting raped.
I was in the habit of walking around the house wearing a very flimsy robe that was virtually see through. Not only that, but I would usually go around with the robe hanging open.
One morning we had trouble with our telephone, so I was at home waiting for the telephone repairman. I was wearing my robe.
When the repairman came, he was a tall, solidly built, blonde man named Jim. He wore a tee shirt and a pair of dungarees with a million little gadgets hanging around his waist.
It pleased me greatly when his eyes went right through me, or at least his eyes went through my robe. I knew that my rosy nipples always showed up through the sheer layer of fabric.
He went to work at the telephone and I kept walking around, purposely giving him a chance to look at me.
When he was in the middle of working, I had to go to the bathroom. There is a hallway leading down from our living room. The first door on the left is a closet, the second door is the bathroom and the third door is the bedroom.
Right after I sat down on the toilet bowl, the door to the bathroom opened. I screeched and put one hand in front of my naked breasts. I had pulled off my robe when I sat down on the toilet and I had nothing else on.
Jim stood in the doorway. Instead of apologizing for the accidental intrusion into the bathroom, he just stood there and leered at me. He was smiling as he leaned against one side of the bathroom door. One of his hands was playing with the lump that was obviously growing in his pants.
"Pardon me!" I screeched at the man.
"Pardon me, lady," the rugged repairman sneered, "I thought you wanted me to take a look at you!"
Talk about a guy using the right words! I could feel the pussy juices begin to flow. Being exposed and having guys look at me was exactly what I always wanted. Jim was now blatantly ogling my body and was rubbing his hard penis against the rough denim of his pants.
I tried to muster whatever dignity is possible while sitting on the John, and I said, "Okay, you've had your look. Now you can get out of here!"
Jim cupped his hard cock against the fabric of his pants. "What about this?" He barked, "I'm not gonna go without you takin' care of my cock!"
I leaped from the toilet seat and grabbed my robe. I tried to put it in front of me, as if covering my naked body would have helped anything at that moment.
Jim was too fast for me. He pounced upon me and he slammed my body down against the hard tile floor of the bathroom.
I felt all of that rough denim pressing against the soft down of my pussy hairs. I smelled the foul sweat on the man's body and his tee shirt as he pressed his body against my body.
He was so strong that he was able to hold me down on the floor with one hand while he unzipped his fly with the other. I regretted never having the bathroom carpeted, since my skin was now crawling against the chilly feel of the tiles.
His cock head was soon pushing at my pussy lips. He pushed in and pushed deep. Shoving and grunting and groaning, his cock entered the full length of my cunt.
I was split apart. I had always thought that my husband had a large penis, but I was startled at the size of this man's enormous cock. It wasn't so much the length as the width that made it so impossible to take.
He could hardly budge it once it was inside of me. He began to pull out of me so that he could begin fucking, but as he pulled back I felt as if he was pulling my body inside out. The supple flesh inside of my cunt was being tugged and dragged along with the wide penis.
Soon Jim was able to get his cock into action. He pulled out and shoved in and he did both with enormous force and power.
I felt his body drench with sweat as he fucked me at a breakneck pace. He was fucking my pussy viciously and brutally. Every jab into me hurt me, but he did not care.
Finally I felt the cock grow even larger than it had been. He slammed into me so deeply that I screamed out in pain once more. I felt a hot moisture splash at my insides. He was shooting his load.
"I'm cumming!" He yelled. "I'm shooting my white hot load up your damn cunt!"
A moment later he was lying on top of me as if he were a dead weight. His clothes were completely drenched in his sweat. He pulled his messy cock out of my battered pussy. Standing up, he stuffed the huge piece of meat back into his pants and then he zipped up.
The next thing I knew he was leaving the ahouse. The telephone had already been fixed.
I had not cum during our fucking. In every sense I had been an unwilling rape victim. Much as I had enjoyed his seeing me naked, I had not wanted to fuck and he had forced that on me.
I've kept this whole thing a secret from my husband. My fear is that other terrible things will happen to me due to my urge to expose my body.
CONCLUSION
Although there are not nearly as many female exhibitionists as there are male ones, they both share the same root of their problem. It is self love. It is a desire to have their bodies admired and loved.
In the case of Phyllis it is easy to see that her body is worthy of admiration. It is also easy to see that she could get into trouble by being immodest on too many occasions.
Her husband is obviously a very loving man. She must be honest with him so that they can solve her problem together. If he would permit her to act out some of her fantasies with him, then she would not have to resort to more extreme measures.
Her husband should definitely permit her to sleep in the nude. He should also play sex games with her in which he pretends to be a stranger who is a peeping Tom. Since she is an exhibitionist, she needs a voyeur to fulfill her fantasies. Her husband could easily play the part and help her achieve satisfaction.
CASE HISTORY EIGHT
SUBJECT; Cynthia AGE; Twenty-one
INTERVIEW ONE
The only word to describe Cynthia would be 'Regal'. She was a stunning woman, with long and straight black hair. This contrasted sharply to her milky skin.
These two elements combined with her great height to make her look like some model for an East Side boutique. She looked much more mature than her age would have suggested. Not that she didn't have a youthful bloom in her face, but at the same time she had the sophistication and charm of a woman with much more experience.
She wore a basic black dress that was clinging to her slender and well-formed body. I could see her erect nipples outlined by the folds of soft fabric.
It was most out of place that in our first interview, with all of her other presumptions at elegance, her palms were sweating profusely.
Well, Doctor, I finally dragged myself here. I know that my family would die if they knew that I was coming to see you. Then again they would die if they knew anything about my sexual fantasies and experiences.
I was brought up in just the right way. We used an etiquette book from 1911 as the arbiter of good taste in our household. We had servants who would say things like, "Madame is not receiving any visitors today."
And the thing was, I always fit right in with that whole scene. I instinctively knew which fork to use and I always said the perfect gracious thing, even when I was a little girl.
There was only one time that I can ever remember my father beating me. My nanny had taken me for a walk in the park and I had seen a number of words scrawled on the walls.
"What does 'fuck' mean?" I asked.
Nanny slapped my hand and said, "You must not say that word!"
I gave one last glance at the wall and then I went on down the block with my nanny.
When I got home that evening I took my crayons and I wrote the words I had seen all over my drawing pad.
In huge multi-colored letters I wrote, 'Fuck', 'Cock' and 'Cunt'.
My mother came into my room to tell me to come downstairs for dinner. I did not know that what I was writing was bad, but as soon as my mother saw the words, she grabbed me by the hand and she grabbed up my writing pad in the other hand. She rushed down the stairs so fast that she was virtually dragging me off behind her. My feet did not even have the time to touch the steps.
She took me into my father's study which was always very heavy with cigar smoke. She merely showed him the words that I had written on the pad. My mother was shaking as if something very upsetting had occurred.
I was frightened as I stood in front of my father. I didn't know what I had done wrong, but I knew that both of my parents were upset.
Father glared at me through a haze of cigar smoke. "Where did you learn these words?"
"They were written in the park, sir."
"Have you ever heard these words?" He asked in the voice of a brutal prosecution attorney.
"No sir." I would never have lied to my father.
"As far as I can see you have done no wrong." He mused for awhile, and then he continued, "But you must be taught that what you have done is wrong."
He motioned for me to climb up on his knee. He lifted my skirt. Since he had not spanked me before this I really did not know what he was doing.
I was shocked as I felt his large hand reach into the back of my panties and pull them down. I cried out as his open palm slapped hard against my naked ass.
"Those are bad words!" He shouted and drowned out my sobs. "Bad, bad words!" Each time he said the word 'Bad' he hit my sensitive bottom.
When he gave me permission to leave the room, I ran up to my bedroom and shut myself in. I hated my father for the punishment he had given me. If these were words that could be written in the park, why couldn't they be written in my pad?
But, even more than the hatred that filled my heart, there was a great curiousity there. I wondered what the words meant. What could those words have been that had caused such a violent reaction in my otherrwise sedate father?
All through the rest of my childhood I was always the model little girl. I could go to a picnic all dressed in white and come home with an absolutely clean dress.
It was an easy life for me. All of my other friends were from families similar to mine. We all assumed that everyone had chauffeurs and nannies and maids and butlers. None of us ever stopped to think that the maids and the butlers did not have maids and butlers.
When I finished finishing school I had no desire to go to college. There was nothing that I wanted to be except a society matron, so I figured that the sooner I began that career the better.
Carlyle Danforth Tate asked me to marry him and I did. It was not totally because of his family name and his money. Carlyle was a very handsome young man, with blonde hair and broad shoulders. I must add though that I would not have married a man who did not have the money to live in the style to which I had become accustomed.
It was during our honeymoon that I first had contact with the thing that I had so desired. Forbidden dirty words!
Carlyle and I had been married for just five days and we were still having sex every day. Carlyle had his big cock shoved inside of me. I was lying on my back on the bed and I had my legs thrown around his back.
His face was tangled in my hair and my lips were next to his ear. I don't know what made me do it, but I suddenly began to whisper, "Fuck me. Fuck my hot cunt with your big cock!"
He stopped his movements and he pulled his cock from my overheated vagina. He looked at me as if I had just said something subversive.
"What was that all about?" He asked.
I never blush because I always keep my composure, but in this instance I blushed bright crimson as I said, "What's the matter?"
"What's the matter?" He repeated my words in an incredulous tone. "I married a lady, not a gutter slut."
As he climbed out of the bed he pulled on his pajama bottoms. I was truly shaken up. I was shaken up because of Carlyle's reaction and I was also shaken up because of what I had said in the first place.
"Why are you going?" I mumbled.
Carlyle raised his nose in the air as he said, "You are obviously a bit over-excited!" Then he marched out of my bedroom.
I was careful in the future never to use the dirty words, but they were constantly on my mind. Whenever Carlyle would fuck me, my mind would keep repeating, "His cock is fucking my cunt. His cock is fucking my cunt." That would excite me.
Then, one night I had a strange and exciting experience.
Carlyle was working for a nationwide banking house and he often went on the road for a week at a time. He knew that I slept late in the mornings and that I was usually bustling around town all afternoon, so he knew that the best time to reach me was late at night.
One night about midnight as I was watching the color television in my bedroom, the phone rang. I knew that Carlyle was the only one who would call me at that hour.
I picked up the phone and said, "I'm glad you called."
The voice on the other end said a muffled, "Hello."
"You sound funny," I said.
There was a pause and then the voice said, "I have a cold."
"What are you taking for it?"
"Taking?"
"Do you have a temperature?" I had learned to get rather motherly toward Carlyle in our months of marriage.
"I don't have a temperature."
"I hope you used a rectal thermometer, they're more accurate."
"Rectal thermometer?" The voice sounded put off. "Can you talk?"
"Of course I can talk," was my reply.
"What do you have on?" he asked.
"Just some old movie on the late show. I've seen it a million times."
"No! What do you have on?" He persisted.
"I told you," I repeated, "just some old movie. It's that one where the English girl becomes a hooker and meets the flyer she used to love."
"What are you wearing!? " He was nearly shouting now.
"My nightgown!" I shouted back.
His voice became softer as he said, "What does it look like?"
I paused to look down at myself and see which nightgown I was wearing. "It's the pink one," I said, "it has little flowers around the neckline and it comes to just above my knees."
"And are you wearing anything else?"
"No, I'm not."
"Well, why don't you touch your hot pussy lips and make believe that my big cock is there to fuck the shit out of you?"
"Carlyle," I shouted, "Is that you?"
"Spread your hot twat and shove your finger up your pussy slit. Come on, baby, play with that cunt meat until you start oozing all your hot pussy juice all over your fingers!"
I knew then that it was not Carlyle. I had received an obscene phone call and I had kept the caller on the line thinking that it was my husband calling.
He continued speaking in a low breathy tone. "Don't you wish you had a hard cock there? Don't you wish you could get your cunt fucked by a big stiff piece of prick meat?"
It was bad enough that I hadn't yet hung up the phone. Somewhere out of the depths of my diaphragm, I found myself saying, "Yes! I want a cock fucking my pussy!"
There was a startled silence on the other end of the phone.
I hung up the phone.
It began ringing again, but I refused to answer it. I reached down and felt my cunt. I had been dripping pussy juice just listening to the dirty words that the obscene man had spewed forth.
When the phone stopped ringing I took it off the hook. The next day I had my number changed.
INTERVIEW TWO
When Cynthia arrived for her second interview she wore more casual clothes. She obviously felt comfortable enough in my presence to be able to drop her regal veneer. Yet, even as she was she still had the look of a royal lady.
Her hands were not sweating this time. At least they weren't until she got to the end of her story.
I had always gotten sexually aroused by dirty words. As a girl, when I used to finger-fuck myself, I never even imagined the pictures of cocks and cunts together. I just had to speak the words.
When Carlyle came back from his business trip, I told him about the obscene phone call. He was shocked and horrified that a lady should have to hear such horrid things. Of course I did not tell him about the embarrassment in my mistaking the obscene phone caller for him, and I did not tell him about the last thing I had said to the caller.
He insisted that I report the call to the police. A nice young officer came to our house and took down my version of the phone call. I kept staring at his handsome body as I told him all of the nasty and luscious words that the midnight caller had said to me.
Once again I edited out my own response about wanting a cock to fuck my pussy.
I felt my pussy juicing up as I spoke to the policeman. When the two of us rose up so that I could escort him to the door, I noticed that there was a bulge in the front of his pants. He was embarrassed as he tried to casually readjust his pants so that I would not notice his erection.
If he could only have seen how moist my panties were, he would not have been embarrassed about his hard cock.
The trouble with my life was that I wanted to use dirty words, but I was not in any position to use them. I could be snotty and difficult to clerks in stores, but I could not sink to the level of pornography that I so desired.
I passed bookstalls that sold sexy novels. My cunt would burn up as I would think to myself, "How often is the word 'fuck' used in those books?" If only I could have bought one of those books. All I would have needed was one, so that I could just see the words in print.
I could have frigged all night just staring at the words 'Fuck', 'Cunt', 'Pussy', 'Cock', 'Prick' and all of the others. I felt the soft lips of my twat quiver as I let the words die silently on my lips.
With all of my servants and my husband and my family and friends there was no way that I could have gotten one of those wonderful erotic novels into my home and kept it hidden.
So I had to keep these words in my mind, or at the tip of my lips. They were as forbidden for me now as my father had made them when I was a little girl.
There was one time when I was driving to a meeting of the museum board-and I passed a row of condemned buildings. The word 'Fuck' was scrawled all over the buildings.
I thought that I was going to cum right there in the driver's seat of my classic European car.
If only Carlyle would let me speak the word, everything could be so simple! If only he didn't have to be such a prude about things!
It happened that while I was driving back home from the meeting of the museum board my car began to make some rough, rasping noises. It actually stalled. Just because the car was a classic did not mean that it wasn't also a headache.
I was able to start the car up, but it stalled at the next stoplight. I was able to start the car once more, but it kept sputtering and it was hardly moving. Fortunately, there was a gas station on the other side of the stoplight. The lights were still on and I pulled my car up onto their lot.
There was a bulky man in the process of turning out the lights. I motioned for him to come over to my car as it died once again and came to a wheezing stop.
He looked in my direction and then he ignored me. He continued about his business of turning out lights and locking things.
Finally I got out of the car. I was furious that I had to do that since I was wearing a beautiful designer dress. I did not want to risk getting any oil or stains on it, since I had just paid over seven-hundred dollars for it.
"Hey you!" I shouted as I approached the man.
He turned slowly. He was a big, swarthy looking brute, with black hair cut very short and a trimmed moustache. He pointed to the name tag on his filthy coveralls as he said, "The name is "Tommy', not 'Hey you'. "
"Tommy, my car is stalled," I said.
"So?" He said as he turned away from me and went about his business.
"So?" I said, "I want you to do something about it, that's what!"
"Lady," he said in a perfectly calm voice that was beginning to infuriate me, "there is a pay phone over there. If you want to call for a taxi to take you home you can do that. We can then do something about fixing your car in the morning when you come back."
"I want something done now!" I shouted. It was an unsavory neighborhood and I didn't want to be stuck there.
He kept his calm and even tone of voice as he said, "You can also go to that pay phone and call a towing service that works twenty-four hours. You can have them tow your car somewhere where they can work on it."
"And what about you?" I was determined to hold my ground.
"I get paid to work here. I have worked here all day. I am not working now."
"I can pay you!" I said, as if that were a piece of news.
"I been here since seven o'clock this morning, lady." His voice no longer maintained the calm and sure quality that it had before. It rose to a scream as he continued. "And I been workin' here since seven this morning. But you wouldn't know nothin' about that. What did you ever do for your money except get fucked?! "
My lips were moving, but I could not speak. There were a combination of jolts to my system. The first was that Tommy had spoken the truth. I really had never earned any money in my life and the money I had was due to my marriage to Carlyle. Or, as the garage mechanic so succinctly put it, it was due to my getting fucked.
I was not used to being spoken to this way. In the boutiques and shops that I usually frequented I was used to being much ruder to the personnel, and none of them ever expressed their anger in this way.
Then, on top of all that, he had triggered something inside of me. He had used that special word that always had an affect on me. He had said 'Fuck'. It was in a strange context, but I could already feel my cunt dripping.
When I finally spoke it was to say, "How dare you speak to me that way!"
He glared at me and said, "You rich piece of cunt. Who the hell do you think you are? Who do you think you're talking to? You're nothing but a stinkin' piece of pussy and you need a good fuckin' to straighten you out!"
Tommy stopped as he looked at me and saw how shaken up I was by what he had said. He reached out a greasy hand and put it on the soft fabric of dress. His hand touched my soft breast.
I pulled back. This may sound strange, but I actually was thinking that he was leaving a grease spot on my dress. I wasn't worried about his touching my tit as much as I was about his messing my expensive dress.
"Maybe I was wrong, but a minute ago you looked like you wanted to get your pussy stuffed full of prick meat." His eyes kept studying me.
My panties were soaking wet. Yes! I did want to get my pussy stuffed full of prick meat! Yes! I loved it when he spoke to me that way!
He walked toward the garage. When he got to the door to turned and stared at me. Then he walked through the door.
What was it that made me follow him through that door? He had no chains on me. He had nothing to hold and control me. There was nothing except the fact that his filthy language had gotten me hotter than I had ever been in my whole life.
I walked through the door and saw that he was unbuttoning his coveralls. In the moonlight that was streaking in through the high glass windows that were in the top of the garage doors, I could see the black hair that was amassed on his chest.
As he continued to unbutton, he revealed the top of his white jockey shorts. They contrasted so sharply with his darkly-haired belly and his grease stained body and coveralls.
He pulled the coveralls down his legs and said, "Come on, cunt, I ain't got all night!"
Just when I was about to turn and leave, he called me 'Cunt' and that made all the difference. My dress slid from my body. I didn't even care that the seven-hundred dollar dress fell to the grease-soaked floor.
The two of us moved toward each other. The lump in the front of his jockey shorts pressed hard against the silky front of my panties. His filthy hands were staining my bra as he pushed me down to the floor.
He literally tore the underclothes from my body. Then he was viciously brutal as he fucked my tight pussy slit.
Tommy was constantly talking throughout this whole fucking.
He would say, "I'm fucking your hot pussy. My big cock is digging deep into your hot piece of cunt."
And I would keep mumbling in his ear, "Fuck me! Shove your hard meat deep up my cunt! I want to feel your big prick fucking my hot cunt!"
Then when I felt the throbbing wetness splash out of his huge hunk of meat, he was screaming into my ear, "I'm shooting all of my hot load up your hungry pussy!"
I screamed along with him, telling him, "I want all that wet and hot cum shoved deep inside my cunt. I want to feel your big cock cum up my tight cunt!"
Finally, he finished.
I have seen Tommy on a few occassions since that time. We meet in some out of the way motel where they have thick walls and we can keep shouting dirty words to our hearts content.
I don't know whether I should go on with this. I am finding it very hard to deal with my husband knowing that I am seeing this other man. I also find that I sometimes get very disgusted with Tommy. He is very abusive in his talk.
Although the abusive language turns me on sexually, when I stop to think about it I wonder if the abuse isn't real!
CONCLUSION
First of all, Cynthia is a fool unless she recognizes that all abuse comes from the heart! Tommy is not just speaking the words when he calls her a 'rich piece of cunt', he is feeling the feeling.
If she finds that there is a real caring relationship with her garage mechanic lover, then she really ought to continue it and pursue it. But if it is merely a device for her to fulfill her fantasy needs, then it is destructive to both of the parties involved.
My suggestion is that Cynthia and her husband both go into extensive sex therapy. The first thing that they need to be taught is that the words 'Fuck', 'Cunt' and etc. are not dirty words. They are exciting, descriptive words for pleasurable acts and beautiful things.
The hopeful results of sex therapy on this couple would be for Carlyle to permit Cynthia to use her dirty words while they engage in sex. It seems that his old-fashioned prudery makes him the one with the bigger problem.
GENERAL
CONCLUSION
Pity the poor person who cannot live his fantasy, at least once.
A few of the girls in this book have lived through variations of their fantasies, while others still dream about what they want.
"Force me, make me do it," seems to be the words on the lips of most of the girls who have not yet lived theirs out. It only seems natural for a girl to want to be forced to have sex.
That way, none of the responsibility of doing it rests on their head. The man, or men (in some cases) who attack the girl are the ones responsible, and then, the young victim can just lie back and enjoy it all.
For some girls, the only way to enjoy sex is to be forced, or, if they're not being forced, to fantasize about it.
