No man can genuinely understand the American woman unless he understands her needs and desires. Therefore, a man must ever be cognizant of the newest sexual trends and fads among American women. In this effort to educate the American male, I have taken on the assignment to research the newest booming sexual fad among American women in their twenties and older.
More and more women are having sex with young boys. The facts and statistics are undeniable. As the American woman becomes increasingly liberated in these permissive 1970's, she seeks newer sexual thrills and newer challenges. Obviously, she finds these thrills and challenges by seducing young boys.
Before presenting to the reader five documented case histories of women who have described in the most intimate detail their relations with young boys, I'd like to present a typical example of the type of woman I'm referring to.
A woman came to my office in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania eight months ago. As a psycho-sexual researcher for many years, I was in the custom of having women come to me to discuss their most intimate sexual habits and problems.
This woman, whom I'll refer to here as Mrs. L. was the woman who prompted my thorough investigation of the pedophiliac rage spreading through American women today.
Mrs. L. admitted that she was happily married and had two children. Mrs. L. was thirty-years-old and had experimented with many men before marrying. But now, whenever she saw young boys in the age range of twelve to fourteen on the street, she had a compulsive urge to have sex with them.
"I've done it many times," she said to me as she drew me for the first time into a thorough discussion of "what women want today," as she described it. She told me how it was her practice to find young boys after school got out and get them in and out of her house before her husband got home from the factory at 5:30.
"Are these youngsters good lovers?" I asked her.
"Good?" she asked. "You've got to be kidding. They're great! That's why almost all the women in my neighborhood are getting deep into sleeping with young boys. Our husbands just can't keep pace."
"Aren't the youngsters inexperienced?" I asked.
"The virgin ones are the best," Mrs. L. countered. "A woman gets a motherly thrill out of teaching a young virgin boy just where to put his whang."
Through a discussion with Mrs. L. I became intrigued with this trend among American woman. Mrs. L. said while it was very quiet, it was equally widespread. So I set out to interview over a hundred women at my Philadelphia clinic. And the results, I must confess to the married men who read this, are shocking.
Every day while husbands are at work, wives and unmarried older women are seducing young boys. In the large cities it's almost standard procedure. In the suburbs its discreet and quiet. In the small towns the practice is just beginning to make ripples in many peaceful households.
Why do the women do it? What does it feel like for a young inexperienced boy to be on top of them? It is not my place to answer these questions. These five women, whose interviews I selected from over a hundred available, will tell you far better than I could. That's why these candid, frank, and blunt interviews have been chosen for this volume.
I'll add only one more word before the reader goes on to study these five women and familiarize himself with the undeniable trend among women today: If I were a husband who was away from the house all day, I'd be worried. There's not a woman in America who secretly doesn't want to at least "try" a young boy.
CASE HISTORY ONE
It quickly became apparent to me as I researched how and why women in their twenties and thirties seduce younger boys, that human beings often cannot resist what they see and what they want.
It was this failure to resist sexual temptation that caused many women to go the route of having young boys as lovers. But it was never so clear as in the case of Mrs. Molly D. an attractive thirty-one-year-old woman from one of the plush suburbs outside of Philadelphia.
"I ... I had never done anything like this before," Mrs. D. said to me when she came to my offices and told me about her seduction of twelve-year-old Herbie W. "It was really a spur of the moment thing."
"You didn't decide to have sex with a young boy until you saw young Herbie?" I asked. "Is that what you mean?"
"Sort of, doctor," she said to me. "I have children of my own. I even have an eight-year-old boy. I've never thought of the kids in a sexual way. But then I saw Herbie's penis and-"
"You saw the boy's penis?" I asked. "The first time you saw the boy you saw his penis."
She nodded. Mrs. D. seemed to be riddled with an unhealthy amount of guilt as she began to discuss her problems with me.
"It wasn't any accident," she said. "I wanted to see it. The first time I saw that young boy I found him so attractive that I wanted to see his cubes and his trouser snake."
"So you seduced him?" I asked.
"Eventually, yes," she said. "But first I had to peep on him. You know, I spied until I saw his whang."
"Would you describe the incident?" I asked. "If you could tell me all the circumstances as frankly as possible I'll be able to better understand your situation."
Mrs. D. cleared her throat and readied herself to begin. I studied her and found her to be a very attractive and youthful woman for her age. As she lay back on my interviewing couch I could see that her long tan firm legs were crossed beneath a modest knee-length skirt and her blouse, although revealing that she did have attractive and sizeable breasts, did not pull as tight as the blouses of many of the women who came to see me.
I wanted to know, however, all the details of her seduction. Mrs. D. had come to my office complaining that she was on a compulsive spree of seducing all the young boys she possibly could. She herself wanted to know why. She wanted to control her desires and channel them in a way that would not eventually lead her into trouble.
Bearing this in mind, I listened as Mrs. D. began her odd tale of seduction....
...I had lived in our suburban neighborhood for ten years, doctor, and I'd watched a lot of children come and go. Throughout all those years, I'd always lived in the same house.
It's a nice big house and it's in a nice neighborhood. Frankly, doctor, my husband makes well over thirty thousand dollars a year so we can afford all of life's luxuries.
I come from a well-to-do family, doctor. When I was a little girl I always got what I wanted. When I was in high school and college I always managed to get into bed with the best looking men with the biggest and most satisfying penises. So throughout my life I'd always been able to have whatever I wanted. I don't want to try to analyze myself, but I guess it might seem that since I had a habit of always getting what I wanted I naturally couldn't turn down something else I wanted-young Herbie ... in my bed.
I said it was a nice neighborhood that I live in. It is. It's a very nice neighborhood and the people who live there are exceptionally nice, too. like Mrs. Watson who lives next door. She's a woman in her mid thirties. She has also been my best friend for the last ten years. And, I guess this is the most important thing about her, she's also Herbie's mother.
Little Herbie had gone away to camp last summer. He had been away for six whole weeks, the longest he'd ever been away from home. And it just happened that on the day after he returned home at the end of the summer, I was over at Mrs. Watson's house.
"You won't believe how little Herbie has grown over the summer," said Mrs. Watson, whom I call Beth. "My young boy is becoming a young man."
I was just about to ask her just what she meant by that when Herbie strolled into the room. Then I knew what she meant. Herbie had grown!
Herbie, you see, was wearing a little white tee shirt and a pair of last years green shorts. The shorts, since he'd grown so much over the summer, were now too short for him. They were too short and too tight. When he walked into that room I could see the complete outline of his balls and his penis as it was tucked beneath the fly of those tight little green shorts.
"Herbie!" his mother barked at him when he came into that room. "Those shorts are an absolute disgrace."
He stood there with his bare feet and his strong tan young legs bulging beneath those shorts. He looked down at his green shorts and his crotch. "Why, mom?" he asked. "They're clean."
"They're clean," she agreed haughtily, "but they're much too tight. Why, Herbie, they embarrass a woman!"
Shit, doctor, those tight green shorts that Herbie had weren't embarrassing me. They were turning me on instead. I could feel a feeling of warmth, wetness and urgency forming down inside my crack.
"Gosh, mom," Herbie said to Beth Watson. "I don't see what's wrong with them."
"You go right upstairs and change!" Herbie's mother said adamantly. "Right this minute!"
Herbie obeyed his mother. He hung his head and started up the stairs as I watched his little hard buttocks rolling with muscles underneath those tight shorts.
"Herbie just doesn't understand that he's become a little man," said his mother. "My goodness! The sight of those tightly packed genitals underneath that crotch is enough to get a certain kind of woman very excited. I think you know what I mean," she said.
"I nodded. "There is a certain type of woman who goes for that type of thing," I agreed.
Beth and I talked for a few minutes as Herbie had disappeared up to his room. Then, in a stroke of luck that changed my whole sexual life, Beth suddenly slapped her forehead.
"My god!" she exclaimed. "I completely forgot to get my husband's laundry from the cleaners."
"Do you have to go get it now?" I asked hopefully.
"I sure do," she said, getting up and looking around the room for her car keys. "Do you want to come with me? You don't have to. You can stay here and I'll be back in about half an hour."
I thought of being left alone in that house with young Herbie. I liked the idea. I knew I wouldn't be able to resist temptation, though, but then again I didn't want to.
"How about if I stay right here?" I said. "I'll just read until you get back."
Beth agreed. And I stayed there in that living room chair sipping a cup of tea until I heard Beth's car roll out of the driveway. Then I looked at the staircase that Herbie had gone up. I put down my cup of tea and walked toward it. Then I headed upstairs to Herbie's room. My pussy was tingling by now. I knew what I wanted. I just had to see if I'd be able to get it.
I could hear Herbie in his room. I walked to his door. I looked in. He was sitting on the bed. He had taken off that little white tee-shirt, but he still had those tight little green shorts on. "Well," I figured, "his mother has asked him to take those shorts off. I'll just make sure that Herbie does what his mom wanted."
I knocked on the door. Herbie looked up.
"Mrs. D.-! " he exclaimed.
"It's all right, Herbie," I said as I slowly entered the room and closed the door partially behind me.
He stood up from where he'd been sitting on the bed. How my pussy was watering over that youngster. All he had on that tan young body of his was those shorts. I could see those firm young muscles rippling across his flat strong stomach and those sturdy brown legs.
"But, Mrs. D-, " he said. "I have to change!"
"Yes, Herbie," I said as I came into that room and walked right over to where he was standing. "I know you do. But I came up to find out if you knew why you have to change."
"Why I have to change?" he repeated. The boy seemed very confused.
I nodded. "Do you know why your mother wants those shorts off you?" I asked.
He shook his head.
"It's because they excite grown women," I explained.
"They do?" he asked naively. "How."
"I think the answer's obvious, Herbie," I said. I pointed down to his nuts. "You mean...?"
"That's right, Herbie," I said slowly to the boy. "You have a very handsome set of male tools."
"Gosh," he said. His young face was getting red.
"Do you know what the mere sight of tools like that can do to a woman?" I asked. "What?" he countered.
"Herbie," I said, "you won't tell your mother on me if I show you what it does, will you?"
He shook his head. But he still seemed shy.
I reached down below my skirt and raised the skirt up past my panties. Herbie's face turned crimson and then white when he saw what I was doing.
"Mrs. D-, I-"
"Quiet, Herbie," I said. "You've grown into a young man now. There are certain things you should know about!"
J watched him as he saw my pink silk panties with the tuft of brown hair visible underneath. I pulled down those panties to where my crotch was completely uncovered. Then I asked Herbie for his hand.
"My hand?" he repeated.
"First your hand," I said, "then your gland!"
He blushed again, but I took his hand in mine, holding it out so that hs fingers were straight. I lowered that young uncertain hand of his until it was on a level with my bush. Then I drew it between the lips of my vagina.
"Golly," he moaned. "Golly, I-"
"Feel the wetness," I said to him. "Feel how wet my pussy has become?"
He nodded as I worked his hand back and forth in my slot.
"That's what it does to a woman when she sees nice male tools bulging beneath a crotch. It makes her pussy get all wet and soaking," I explained.
"Golly," he moaned. He was sniffing now. He could smell the juice of my desire from where it was flooding my pussy.
"Now I have to explain something else," I said. "Do you know why a woman's pussy gets so wet?"
He shook his head as I continued to work those fingers of his back and forth in my slot.
"It gets wet so that the penis can glide back and forth within the slot," I explained.
His face was still red. But he nodded. He understood.
"And," I continued, "it's very rude for a young man to turn on a woman and get her all wet and then not satisfy her. Do you understand the implications of that?"
"You want me to ... to satisfy you?" he asked.
I nodded. "From the looks of things," I said as I glanced down and saw that young rod of his bulging beneath his crotch, "it's not going to be difficult for you."
"But, where's mom?" he protested.
"Your mother went out," I said. "So we'll have all the time we need alone."
He was very nervous. I had to calm him down because I can remember from when I was young that nervous boys can ejaculate prematurely. And I didn't want that. I wanted that cock of his to move back and forth inside me until I was ready to feel that young boy's semen bursting out of his long one-eyed trouser snake.
I pulled Herbie down and we sat down on the bed in his room. "Undress me," I told him. "You undress me and I'll undress you."
"But-"
"No 'but's,' " I insisted. "You've only got so many minutes before your mother comes back. Do you want her to come up here and catch us screwing?"
He shook his head.
"Then get to work," I said. "I'll help by sliding my panties off."
I slid my panties down my legs and kicked them off my ankles as young Herbie's nervous hands unbuttoned my blouse. He opened up the blouse and saw my pink bra covering my nice large womanly boobs.
"The bra unsnaps in the back," I said to him. And Herbie reached around me and unhooked my bra. I slid the blouse off and then let the bra slide off me. Herbie gave me a long hard look. I could see his cock bulging beneath those tight green shorts as he stared at my nipples.
"See what happens when you bare the breasts?" I said to him. "You see how my nipples are getting hard?"
He nodded. I slid out of my skirt and I was completely naked in front of that boy as we sat on the side of the bed.
"Now, Herbie," I said. "It's time for you to show me what you've got."
"Golly," he muttered. He was still staring at my breasts and at my tuft of brown hair down between my legs. He was a very excited boy. I reached to his shorts and unbuttoned the little snap at the waist.
Then I unzipped the fly. I unzipped it slowly as the boy stared down at his own crotch to see how I was uncovering it. His hard young chest was heaving in excitement.
"Herbie," I said, "have you ever played with your peter?"
"Played with it, ma'am?" he asked.
"You know what I mean, Herbie," I said to him. "Do you jack off?"
"Golly," he said slowly. His face was purple in embarrassment now. I was loving every minute of it. I pulled that zipper down slowly and watched the tuft of pubic hair become suddenly visible down there.
"Answer my question," I insisted as the zipper went lower and lower. "Sometimes," he said. "Often?" I asked. "Just sometimes," he said. "How often?"
I pulled down the zipper all the way suddenly and his great big penis flew out of his pants, bursting into full view.
"A couple of times a week," he said.
I reached to his big long loaf and started to run my fingers up and downTne long base of it, following that big blue vein up and down the shaft.
"I don't believe it," I said to him. "I think you whack off more often than that. A boy with a big tool like yours is going to have to keep it in working order."
"A couple of times a day," he finally admitted. "I have to whack off a couple of times a day or else I come in my sleep."
"My goodness, Herbie!" I said to him. "If you come in your sleep it means that you have to have pussy very soon."
"It does?" he asked.
"It certainly does. All that semen that you squirt off should be going into a woman's pussy, not onto some dirty old sheets."
I pulled his shorts down completely and that big blue-veined prong of his popped up and stared me right in the face.
"What a handsome penis," I said as I looked at that big long organ and the huge pair of hairy nuts that swung freely beneath it. "How would it like a little kiss."
"A kiss?" he gasped.
I said nothing. I held him by the hips and I slid my wet lips across his penis's head. I took the big organ into my mouth and I moved the tip of my tongue across the big hole on the tip of his rod. Herbie started to moan when he felt it.
"Oh," he moaned to me as his rod remained rigid in my mouth. "I've never felt anything quite that good."
"There's only one thing in the world that feels better," I said to him as I lapped the flat side of my tongue up his rod from the underside. "And that's when your long hard rod is immersed in a hot wet pussy. like mine."
He moaned again as I said that to him. I worked on his penis with my mouth and I worked my lips up and down on his long shaft. Then I pushed him backward and made him lie out flat on the bed with his rod sticking straight up in the air.
"I only have to ask you one thing," I said to him.
"What?"
"Have you whacked off yet today?" I asked.
"Twice this morning," he said. "While I was taking a hot shower."
"Well," I said, "if you've whacked off twice already you should be able to hold a rod pretty well."
"Not with all the licking you're giving to it," the youngster moaned. And with those words I licked the tip of my wet darting tongue up and down that long hard vein on the sensitive underside of his rod. I gave Herbie a workout with my tongue that would have made many grown men spurt off right between my lips.
Then as he was lying out flat on his bed I knew it was time for me to go for the score. I told him to stay in that flat position and do exactly what I said. Herbie said he would. His cock was so hard by now that it must have been begging for release. So I decided to give it to him ... in a few seconds.
"There's just one thing you have to do for me first," I told him.
"What?"
"A woman-likes to be kissed before she gets fucked," I said. "On the lips."
He began to reach up to bring his lips to my face. But I pushed him back down.
"Not those lips," I said. "On the pussy lips!"
"The pussy lips?" he gulped. And I nodded.
"I'll show you just what I want, Herbie." I told him.
I straddled his body by bringing one leg across his upper chest. I straddled his bare young body with my legs, holding my furry tuft right above his chin. Then I directed the youngster to bring his mouth right up to that furry tuft and start kissing it.
He reached up and smacked his lips right on my pubic hair. Then he lowered his head again.
"What kind of childish little boy crap is that?" I asked.
"What's wrong?" he countered.
"Haven't you learned to French kiss yet?" I asked. "Don't you know the kind of kissing where you poke your tongue between the girl's lips."
"Golly," said young Herbie. "You mean you do it with those lips, too?"
I nodded. "Get to work," I said. "Before your mother gets home. I don't dig being watched."
Herbie raised his head and this time he had the right idea. I supported myself up there on my knees by leaning with one arm against the wall beside his bed. Herbie was a surprisingly good linguist for a beginner.
He slurped his boyish tongue up and down the length of my crack, probing his tongue into my vagina as it drifted by my slot He worked that tongue over and over across the length of my pussy lip, only occasionally pausing to take a gasp of air.
The boy wrapped his hands around me and held my buttock cheeks firmly in his young hands as he slurped his tongue repeatedly across my crack. I was getting increasingly wet down there. And I could feel the orgasms building up and getting ready to burst loose.
"I want you to feel around for a little knob at the peak of my crack," I then told him. "That's my clit. I want a few little licks there, Herbie. Then we'll be ready to screw."
I reached around behind my back and held his hard rod in my hand as his probing big wet tongue moved up and started to move in a circular motion around my clit.
"Oh, Herbie," I moaned. "Where did you learn to do something like that?"
"In books," he muttered as my big furry muff muffled his voice. "I read how to lick a clit but I've never known what the clit was."
"Pretty soon," I cooed to him as his tongue worked over my pussy, "you'll know what a cunt is, too."
I let him slurp his tongue upwards on me a few more times. Then I could take the pussy torment no more. I pulled my poor soaking muff away from him as he still lay flat on the bed and I moved my ass down to where his prong was sticking up. He kept his hands on the cheeks of my ass all that time. I felt the lower part of my buttocks glide over his huge hard prong. I moved my vagina to a spot where it was just above that great big erection of his. Then I started to lower my slot down on top of him.
I felt the huge swollen head of his penis enter me. The boy moaned and I gasped. He felt like a big steel railroad spike as he slipped between my pussy lips.
I slowly brought my pussy down on him and the boy moaned again with delight. I brought my pussy all the way down and completely enveloped his organ. It pushed way back into me and I savored the rich full feeling of being fucked by a good hard stick of a delightful young boy.
I looked down at his young face and his hard young body. His hands were on my hips now and I was starting to drive my pussy up and down on that great big stick of his. The youngster was smiling broadly and driving his long hard prong up to me like a jackhammer. I felt like I was seated on a human jackhammer that had gone out of control. My pussy was out of control, too, now. I was starting to orgasm.
My pussy exploded in torrents of long hard pelvic thrusts. I orgasmed all over that hard hot rod of his and I kept feeling it getting bigger and bigger as it neared the point of ejaculation.
"Oh, Herbie!" I barked. "You're so big in there! So frigging big!"
Herbie gave me a big boyish grin and he moved his hands from my hips to my tits. He pushed his palms up flat against my breasts and I felt my nipples go hard against his palms. I orgasmed again. And then again. And then again and again and again.
His cock was pounding upwards from beneath me and driving me to a frenzied peak with all those hard hammering thrusts. I panted and I moaned. And then, right in the middle of an orgasm, I heard his mother's car pulling back into the driveway.
"Come!" I urged him. "Come! Your mother's back!"
I pounded my pussy downward on his whang and started to undulate the walls of my vagina, driving the tight walls downward on his cock and occasionally enveloping his prong with a vice-like vaginal grip.
It was more excitement than any male could take, let alone a young boy who was getting his first taste of pussy. I felt his cock swell up to its longest length yet. Then it exploded.
I felt his cock spasm and lurch inside my hot wet undulating pussy. I felt the long prong spit his hot gobs of seeds all over the inner recesses of my pussy, filling me up with long hot gushes of his come.
I jammed myself up and down on his wet rod, orgasming vigorously until his own cock had shot its load and was contracting again. He went limp inside me and I heard Beth opening the door downstairs.
Although I love to sit on a man's penis for several minutes after he's come, I had to lift my soaking pussy up immediately and leap off the boy. I could hear Beth calling for either Herbie or me. Then as I stood beside Herbie's bed and frantically picked up my clothes, Beth started to come up the stairs.
"Herbie? Are you there?" I heard her call.
All I could do was hustle into the closet holding my clothes. I slammed the closet shut behind me and stood perfectly still. I could feel all of Herbie's semen gushing from my vagina and starting to flow down my legs.
His mother walked into that room and saw little Herbie lying flat on his bed with a wet flaccid prick.
"Herbie!" she squealed. "Oh, Herbie, you little perverted beast!" And then she ran from the room and ran down the stairs. About an hour later I managed to tiptoe out of the house after Herbie kissed me good-bye and thanked me for making a man out of him. His mother thought she had caught him beating off. And as far as I know, she's never found out the truth....
...Mrs. D. ended her story at that point. Since time had almost expired in our interview session, I sought to bring our meeting to a conclusion by asking a few general questions.
"Let me ask you this, Mrs. D., " I said. "Who was the last man you'd had sex with before having sex with young Herbie?"
"My husband, doctor," she said.
"Who was more satisfying?" I asked.
"Well," she began slowly, trying not to admit the answer we both knew was coming, "I'd have to say that I had better orgasms with the boy."
"Why do you think that was so?" I asked
"I ... I don't know, doctor. It just seemed to be so much more exciting to be there with that naked youngster. I knew he was all young and pure and virgin. It was such a great kick to be sitting on a stick that had never been in anyone else before."
"Is that how you feel about the other boys you seduce?" I asked.
"How do you mean that, doctor?" she replied.
"Unless I'm mistaken, Mrs. D., " I said, "you mentioned that you have a compulsive urge to seduce a steady stream of young boys in the neighborhood. Isn't that correct? Isn't that the problem that brought you to my office?"
"It is," she admitted demurely.
"Well," I said, following up quickly, "is the thrill that you get when you seduce one of those boys the same as the thrill you got the first time you seduced Herbie?"
She paused. "I guess it would have to be," she said. "I mean, doctor, there's a certain sexual thrill that I have to have. My husband, as much as I love him, doesn't give it to me. But young boys do."
"Different young boys?" I asked, posing a crucial question to Mrs. D.
"Different?" she repeated.
"Did you have sex with Herbie again?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Often?"
"Several times," she replied.
"And after those several times?" I asked.
"Well, I ... I found another youngster. A woman has a right to end one affair and go on to another."
"Precisely, Mrs. D., " I said. "That's how I thought you'd feel."
"I'm afraid I don't understand your line of questioning, doctor," Mrs. D. finally said.
"I'm seeking," I told her calmly, "to determine the origins of the compulsive behavior which drives you to seduce young boy after young boy."
"And?" she asked.
"And I have a good idea what it is."
"What is it?"
I paused and then addressed the attractive young woman very sincerely.
"It's premature," I said to her, "to attempt an analysis without hearing more of the various sexual acts and feats you've had with young boys. Thus, before getting to the actual act of analysis, I'd like to hear more. For example, I'd like to hear what you might consider to be your most spectacular seduction of a young male."
"Most spectacular?" she repeated, with a smile growing on her face. "There's not much doubt about who and when that was. It was with a husky little blond boy named Willie who-"
"I'm anxious to hear about it, Mrs. D., " I said interrupting her, "but not at this session. "My assistant, Miss Johnson will be glad to reschedule you at a convenient time."
"I'd love to tell you about it now," Mrs. D. begged.
I explained to Mrs. D. that I did in fact have another appointment, this one with a woman who enjoyed being trampled by her son who would wear nothing but spurred cowboy boots during the actual act of trampling. Mrs. D. did understand and arranged an appointment one week later. Miss Johnson, my secretary and clinical assistant, arranged Mrs. D.'s appointment within my schedule.
by this time in my interviewing with Mrs. D. it was quite clear what her motivation was in seducing young boys. What I had no idea of, however, was the lengths she would go to get a young male. This, however, became quite clear, quickly in our second interview.
II
Mrs. D. returned as scheduled a week later. It was my contention that Mrs. D.'s desire to seduce young boys stemmed from a basic boredom within her own marriage. It is clear that young boys represent an intense and exciting sexuality to many older women and it was my conjecture that Mrs. D. was seeking just such excitement and challenge on a sexual level.
My theories, however, could hardly be based on merely one incident. That's why I asked Mrs. D. to return and tell me about another incident, one which she would consider most exciting.
When Mrs. D. returned she was again dressed attractively but conservatively. I began the interview by asking a few basic questions about her sexual relations with Herbie.
"Am I right, Mrs. D., " I asked, "in assuming that Herbie was a good young partner for as long as the affair lasted?
"That's very true, doctor," she said. "As I told you last time, Herbie and I screwed several times. It wasn't until I began to get bored with him that we had to cut things off."
"Did he have a nice penis?" I asked.
"The boy had a very nice organ," Mrs. D. recalled fondly. "It fit into my slot very snugly. Since you're a man, doctor, you might not be aware of this, but some penises feel very snug and comfortable when they're inserted."
"Other women have remarked similarly," I affirmed. "But why do you think you're tired of Herbie?"
She shrugged. "I guess I just wanted some fresh meat," she said. "After all, I think any penis would start to bore a woman after a while."
"So then you seduced other little boys?" I asked watching her reactions carefully as I posed my questions.
"That's right," she said. "In fact, doctor, it wasn't long afterwards that I had that 'most spectacular' screw scene that you asked me to tell you about."
"Could you describe it?" I asked. She began....
...No woman in her right mind would ever get rid of one man without having another to replace him. Well, doctor, it's exactly the same when you want to replace one little boy with another.
When I began to tire of Herbie I began to look around for a replacement. In our neighborhood, with all those wealthy little handsome private school boys, it's not hard to find a youngster.
The replacement I selected for Herbie was one of his best friends, little Willie Frost. It wasn't hard to seduce young Willie. I asked him to come over to my house one afternoon to help me get some crates upstairs from the basement. I told Willie that I'd be happy to pay him a dollar an hour for his trouble.
"Oh, boy!" said Willie when he heard that he'd be able to make a few dollars on his afternoon off from school. He was very excited. But when he got over to my house I opened the door and let him in.
He immediately saw that I was wearing a very sheer nightgown with nothing underneath. Willie, a handsome little thirteen-year-old, could see my hard reddish nipples underneath the gown. When he lowered his gaze and directed his eyes toward my crotch he could see my gorgeous little tuft of brown bush.
Willie gulped loudly as he looked at me.
"I ... I guess I better be getting to those crates," he said slowly as he eyed me up and down.
"There are no crates, Willie," I said. "There's just one big box I want you to help me with."
"A box?" he stammered.
"My box," I said. "The box that you're looking at right now. The one down between my legs."
"I ... I don't underst-"
"Willie," I said to him, "how would you like to make a big fat ten dollar bill for less than an hour's work?"
"I sure would!" he blurted out.
"Good," I said. "All you'll have to do is provide me with a little service."
"Service?"
"A few good strokes, Willie," I explained. "That's all."
I showed that boy exactly what I wanted from him. I got down on all fours in the living room and I took off that nightgown. I could see his little cock bulging beneath his fly so I had him take off his pants.
"Have you ever seen dogs screwing, Willie?" I asked him.
He nodded.
"Well," I said. "That's exactly what I want."
The boy took down his trousers and his cock bounced right out and stood pointing straight up. I told him to get down on his knees behind me. He did. And then I wriggled my ass backwards until his prong had skewered my vagina. He humped and pumped from the backside until I felt that long hard rod of his explode with a good hard boyish gush of semen.
So that's how I got off fucking little Herbie and got onto fucking Willie. But that wasn't really the most spectacular screwing conquest I ever had, doctor. The best happened just a few weeks later when I seduced both of the Hughes twins.
Bobby and Jerry Hughes were a couple of good looking twin boys who I found out were celebrating their fourteenth birthday that weekend.
Well, I sent them each a birthday card and told them that if they both came by my house at the same time they could get a present from me.
They both came over to the house two days later. And what cute young fellows they were. Both of them were wearing little yellow shirts and blue jeans. As soon as I saw them both at the door I invited them in.
"I know what you're both here for," I said to the brothers as I brought them into the den of my house. "You came for your presents. Right?"
Jerry nodded. Bobby answered. "That's right," he said.
"Well," I said, "you'll both be very pleased with what I give you today. But you have to promise that you'll never tell anyone about it."
"Golly," said Jerry as he looked at me with those boyish excited big eyes of his. "What is it?"
"I guess you could say," I said to him, "that it's the most valuable gift a woman can bestow on a young man ... or a pair of young men."
"Gosh," mumbled Jerry.
"Is it that expensive?" asked Bobby.
"It can be if you have to pay for it," I said. "My husband confessed to me that he had to pay for it once. He said he went to a very expensive 'shop' where he paid to have this thing for two hours with two girls on a water bed. It cost him two hundred dollars."
"Wow," said the boys. "Did you have to pay that much to get this for us?"
"No," I explained. "I can provide it for free ... for young men whom I take a liking to."
"And you like us that much?" they asked.
"I certainly do, boys," I said to those two twin fourteen-year-olds. "Just you wait."
I sat down on a sofa and had both of the boys sit down next to me, one on each side.
"You're getting to be young men," I said to the Hughes twins. "I'll bet you wish some of the girls at school would start putting out for you."
The boys were silent.
"Putting out for us?" Jerry finally said, asking very hesitantly.
"Giving you samples of their cunts," I explained. "You know what I mean, boys. I'll bet you'd like to get your sticks into a nice warm wet pussy."
"I guess," said Jerry with a devilish glint in his eyes.
"Any guy would," Bobby finally conceded. "Wonderful," I exclaimed. "That's just what your gift is-pussy. Right here and now."
"You?" they gasped.
"Do you see anyone else?" I countered. "Just start undressing me, boys. You can keep whatever you find."
They started to work slowly on me but the pace quickened almost immediately. Jerry went to work unfastening the belt around my skirt and Bobby started to undo the buttons on my blouse. Bobby opened my blouse and saw that I had nothing on underneath.
I held my chest out so that the boys could get a good glimpse of those big jugs of mine. I knew the nipples would be standing up hard by the time they got in there. The tits were hard as little stones. The boy's weren't disappointed.
"Look at those big knockers," Bobby moaned to his brother. Both boys peered forward for a view. They quickly pulled my blouse off and left me topless. Those big breasts of mine fascinated the boys.
They pawed my big breasts and Bobby even leaned forward to push his lips to my right nipple. I held both hands beneath the breast to give him a nice supple tit to suck on. As Bobby's boyish mouth worked on my tit, Jerry was busy with the other tit. His fingers and palms were exploring the other nipple. But soon his other hand was down at my knee. Then it disappeared under my skirt.
Jerry's hand pushed far back beneath my skirt and was soon feeling me up at the crotch. As Bobby continued to be a young tit man and didn't move his lips from my nipple, Jerry undid the zipper of my skirt and opened the skirt completely.
Off came my skirt Then Jerry pulled down my panties and I wriggled down out of them. My bush was uncovered for both the boys to see. But Jerry was the one who went for my heaving wet bush, first.
He ran his hand across the pubic hair as I began to get so excited that my entire pussy was bursting forth with juice. Here one boy was working on my tit while another was playing with my pussy. What more could any woman ask for?
My pussy was so wet that I had to lie back on that sofa. Bobby leaned back with me and started to play with the other tit with his mouth while his hands continued to toy with the other nipple.
Meanwhile, as I spread my legs wide apart, his brother Jerry was starting to kiss me right down there inside my thighs.
Jerry's young mouth pressed right into the soft fleshy skin beneath my pussy area. His mouth worked all around the pussy area and I could even feel his breath pushing into my vagina. My slot was flooded by now.
"Boys," I insisted. "You have to get your clothes off this minute. Right now I want to see those hard little penises all bare."
Jerry and Bobby quickly pulled their shirts up off over their heads and tossed the shirts away. Then down came their jeans. Each was wearing a pair of white cotton briefs under those jeans, and each pair of briefs was bulging at the crotch with the big instruments that each boy was just dying to let loose with.
Down came Jerry's briefs. At precisely the same moment Bobby pulled his down. Out flashed the big members that each of the brothers was equipped with.
"What sexy young men you are!" I cooed as I saw those big penises flash out and point toward me. "What a powerful pair of brothers you are. The girls in your schools are sure going to put out easy for you."
I leaned forward and took Jerry's loins right before my face. I sucked his penis into my mouth and worked on it with my warm moving lips. I could feel his hard rod stiffen in my mouth and I concentrated on working my tongue across the sensitive little spot right beneath the hard head of his penis.
Then I released his dick from my mouth. "Back down to the pussy, Jerry. You just continue exactly what you were doing."
Jerry went back down to my crotch as I held my long lean legs wide apart. Jerry pushed his young head right between my legs. The next thing I knew he was licking me.
"Oh, Jerry, yes," I moaned. I was trying to take his brother's penis into my mouth, but Jerry was being a terrible distraction. His tongue was slurping up and down the length of my vagina, tickling all the sensitive spots along the lips of my snatch. Then, just when I was getting used to that, he thrust that long tongue of his right into my vagina and started to twist his tongue around.
I moaned and I panted. And as Bobby pushed his hands to my hard big nipples, I managed to take Bobby's penis between my wet lips.
As young Bobby Hughes's penis swelled up in my mouth his brother's tongue worked over my entire pussy. The tip of that tongue toyed with my clit and darted up and down those vaginal lips. Bobby's hands tickled my tits and I managed to swish my own tongue all over Bobby's whang.
Then I felt Jerry's hands on my inside thighs again. He pushed my two long legs as far apart as he could and then the young boy pulled his face back from where it was parked in my muff.
"Jerry," I panted. "Jerry, please!"
I wanted something back in my cunt. His tongue had turned me on terribly and I had to have something inside me to fill me up.
He fumbled around down there as I continued to roll my ass on that cot. I looked down. He was getting ready to mount me. His long prong was pointing out from his crotch and was headed right into my wet, hairy slot.
"Oh, Jerry, yes!" I squealed. And as I let go of Bobby's penis, Jerry was fully upon me. I arched up my ass as the boy brought his loins down right between my legs.
I felt his penis as it slid between the lips of my vagina with all its hardness. He assumed a weird position down there, half mounting and half squatting. He sat sort of yoga style with his penis slipping way back into me.
"Oh, Jerry," I moaned. "You reach so far back into me that way."
He wiggled his penis within me and looked down at my huge heaving boobs. The nipples were hard and erect, just like his big fat rod.
But as he looked down on me, his brother got tired of being left out of the action. Bobby crawled up on that bed and I saw how similar the two twins' penises were. But with Jerry's cock throbbing back and forth inside me I couldn't be too concerned with Bobby's rod. Not yet. The trouble was that Bobby was very involved with my breasts.
As Jerry continued to fuck me in that odd yoga position of his, Bobby assumed a comfortable place beside me on that sofa and leaned over me. First he rubbed the underside of his prick directly across my right nipple. Then, after teasing his cock with my hard tit, he moved back and started to lower his face down to my nipples. He cupped his hands around the right tit and pressed his lips to the nipple. Then he started to suck.
And, doctor, I mean he sucked! I felt like my boob was being milked. With one brother working on my nipple and the other playing with my cunt by pressing his cock in and out of it, there was nothing else a normal woman like me could do except start to orgasm.
My pussy started to thrust back and forth on Jerry's rod. I wrapped one arm around Bobby's head and I clutched his hard big penis with the other hand, moving my thumb and forefingers briskly up and down his shaft. Bobby was moaning as I stroked his cock with my hand. Or was it Jerry who was moaning? In any case, doctor, I sure do know that I was moaning.
Jerry's penis kept driving in and out of me and pushing deep back into my vagina. Then, and I don't know what gave him this idea, Jerry reached down to my vagina and pressed his hard little forefinger right against my clit.
It drove me batshit, doctor, to have my clit pressed while I was getting fucked and having my tit sucked. I orgasmed again and again and I felt Bobby's firm lips on my hard nipple.
Jerry's whang grew bigger and bigger as I wrapped my legs around that boy's waist. His penis was pressed tightly inside me now and was sliding briskly back and forth. I still orgasmed hard. But I knew Jerry's young rod wouldn't be able to stand this kind of excitement for long.
His cock pressed to his deepest penetration yet and then it erupted. I looked at the boys' faces as I felt Jerry's penis spitting its hot load of seeds deep into my pussy. The boys looked so much alike. I was such a lucky woman to be getting it from not one but two handsome youngsters.
Why was I so lucky? You'll see.
As Jerry's cock spasmed and spit all its juice into me, I wriggled my legs and undulated the walls of my pussy, drawing every drop out of that big thick whang of his. I felt the warm wetness of his load shoot way deep down into my box and I continued to wriggle as I savored the warm womanly glow of having a man's hot spermy load way down within my most womanly spot.
His prick shot out a good eight or nine hard shots before it dribbled to a halt. But the last thrust of his cock had initiated a final orgasm down within my pussy, and that orgasm hadn't been pounded out to its conclusion when the tired boy withdrew his cock from me.
"Oooh, Jerry," I cooed to him. "I need something in there a little more."
I don't know what I was thinking of when I said that to him. The solution to my problem, of course, was right at my elbow. His brother's cock!
"It's my turn," Bobby yelped gleefully as he eyed the slick wet pussy that his brother had just vacated. And Jerry, like a good brother, moved to one side on that crowded sofa as his brother mounted me and moved into position.
I said before that I thought I was a lucky woman, doctor. Well, that's why. As soon as one boy was finished with me I had his brother to pick up right where the first boy had left off.
I held those legs open and Bobby thrust his hard pointed dick right into me. I felt the head of his hard rod poke through the tormented wet lips of my pussy. Then I felt him gliding into me. One inch! The head was in! Three inches! The big hard shaft was on its way home. Then five inches! Then the full seven! These boys were young but they sure were hung!
Bobby, whom I thought was merely a tit man, was very aggressive once he had my pussy to himself. His rod was long and hard and he drove it in and out of me with a relentless pistoning action. My pussy started to spasm again and the next thing I knew it was alive with orgasms again.
Bobby pounded his cock back and forth inside me and really moved me way up into the heights of orgasmic ecstasy. My cunt spasmed and blasted as his rod moved in and out. He lay completely forward on me and I arched up my ass again and wrapped my long legs completely around him, drawing my boy lover's prick as far into my slot as it could go.
Jerry stretched out right next to me and panted for his breath. But he lay out in the inverted position. His head was down near his brother's knees and his wet slick dork was practically hanging in my face.
Well, doctor, why not have two penises inside you instead of just one. To reward Jerry for giving me such a nice screw to start things off with, I moved my head to his crotch. I gathered his wet whang in my mouth and tasted the crud from his dork and my cunt on it. But I started to lick his whang with my tongue and wash it in my mouth as his brother moved his cock in and out of me.
Bobby's penis had been played with extensively before it entered me. Thus the boy couldn't hold his load for long. But he held it hard inside me just long enough to satisfy the final few horny itches that his twin brother had left behind. Bobby's penis exploded in orgasm a few short minutes later, gushing his come into my wet vibrating slot where it joined all the sperms that his brother had shot off a few minutes earlier He came just in time, doctor. Jerry's rod was starting to get hard again in my mouth. I didn't have the physical stamina to fuck both of them again. Hell, if they'd knocked me up I would have had to name half the Hughes family in the paternity suit....
...Mrs. D. brought her story to a conclusion with those words. She then paused and added a final quip. "Well, doctor," she said. "Is that spectacular enough for you?"
I smiled. "The question, Mrs. D., " I said, "is whether or not your tryst with the Huges twins was spectacular enough for you.
"It sure was," she said. "I'd say it was the best time I'd ever had screwing."
"Did you ever have sex with either of the boys again?" I asked, seeking to move the interview toward a conclusion.
"Either?" she said. "I screwed both of them again several times. I fucked them separately and I screwed them both at the same time again. I wasn't choosey, I was just out for some good boyish fun."
"I see," I said, "you sought to virtually re-enact this original experience with the boys. Is that right?"
"Yes," she nodded.
"But it was never quite as good again?" I pressed.
"I guess you could say that," she admitted.
"Just as I suspected," I noted calmly. "Even though you enjoyed these boys you were eventually compelled to move on to other young males."
"Yes," she admitted. "I guess less than two weeks later I'd seduced little Artie Keller. Then there was young Jamie Simpson and-"
"I think we've proven my point, Mrs. D." I said. "I think we've found your problem."
"Have we?" she asked.
"Just one final question," I said, "then we'll discuss it. Did you feel any emotion toward the Hughes twins? Or for that matter, for any of the boys you seduced?"
"Well," she said as she pondered the question for a moment, "I wouldn't want to hurt them or harm them or anything. But let's face it, doc, I'm a woman with very intense needs and desires. The boys were sex objects to me. Just as most men are to most women. Isn't that normal?"
"Common, Mrs. D., " I said. "It's common, but there's no way of knowing how 'normal' it is."
Mrs. D. then asked me to explain. I did. I gave her my analysis of her case and sought to explain why she feels compelled to go from one youthful male sex partner to another.
From all indications in the case of Mrs. Molly D., her sexual problem stemmed from two factors. First, after years of marriage to the same man, she was sexually bored and unchallenged. And second, and perhaps more important, Mrs. D. was either unable or unwilling to relate emotionally to her partners. With no emotional involvement with any of her male partners, there was only the newness and novelty of each relationship to sustain any excitement for her. Thus, in long range terms, Mrs. D. was doomed to boredom with each partner almost from the time of each initial penetration.
Analyzing a problem such as this one and providing a cure for it are two entirely different tasks. The first, obviously, is far easier than the second. Mrs. D. was deeply concerned that her compulsion to have sex with young boys would eventually become well-known by her husband and would destroy her marriage.
Thus I suggested to Mrs. D. that she speak frankly to her husband. She described Mr. D. as an intelligent and secure man who could face a marital problem constructively. I told her to ask him if he shared a feeling of boredom within their mutual sex act. If so, I suggested a way they might cure it.
As it turned out, Mr. D. had also felt certain feelings of boredom within the act. Once Mrs. D. had initiated the conversation, the couple was able to seriously examine their role together and their compatibility as partners. Fortunately for both of them, a solution was easy.
They were able to rekindle the early excitement of their marriage by relating to each other in new and different ways. For example, Mrs. D. went to bed with her husband wearing thigh high stockings. Mr. D. physically forced intercourse with his wife in different rooms of the house and in different new positions. And, in the most exciting act of all between Mr. and Mrs. D., the couple had sex in broad daylight on the front lawn of their suburban home while three or four passers-by watched.
While their activity was extreme, the important point is clear. Women on a dangerous trend of child seduction can be lured back into the happy confines of a traditional marriage. I must stress, however, that every case and every marriage is different. Activity which save one marriage might wreck another.
It is clear then, that one sexual habit can often be cured by the initiation of another habit. This is the case in the following case history, also, but in the opposite manner of Case History One.
In Case History One, a woman was cured of her child seduction spree by varying the sexual activity between her and her husband. The following case history, however, is much more unusual. In case History Two, a woman fears the lesbian tendencies she feels. She saves her conscience and her marriage by seducing neighborhood boys.
CASE HISTORY TWO
"I thought I was a real pervert," Mrs. Lola G. said to me in March of 1972 on her first visit to my office. My assistant, Miss Johnson, had just shown Mrs. G. into the interviewing chamber of my clinic. Miss Johnson had barely left the room when Mrs. G., . reclining comfortably on the sofa, began to tell her most bizarre story. Throughout the story she told, it was often difficult to determine whether she or a fifteen-year-old boy named Robb was the actual seducer or seductee.
"I thought I was a real pervert," Mrs. G. repeated, "until a woman in my apartment building told me about the research you're doing, doctor. I thought I was the only woman around who liked to have sex with young boys. But, no. Shit, doctor, it seems like all the girls today go for guys of a half or a third of their age."
"I'm not sure of the exact percentages," I explained to Mrs. G. "But I do know that the trend is increasing daily. Nowadays, it's just not an isolated case when an older married woman gets a youngster into her bed."
"That's for sure, doctor," she said. "One of the women I know has nailed over a dozen young boys. I don't know how she charms them all, but she manages someway."
"What about you, Mrs. G?" I asked. "Do you have a particular experience to tell me about?"
"Oh," she scoffed, "I could tell you about several experiences. You know what I mean?"
"I know," I said, "but what brings you to my office? Do you feel that you're in need of professional guidance about an affair involving a young boy?"
Mrs. G., twenty-nine years of age and happily married to her second husband, paused before answering. She was an attractive and slim young woman who came to my office wearing a think pink sweater and white slacks. The sweater was thin enough to reveal the contours of her breasts beneath that sheer fabric. like most modern women with lithe bodies, Mrs. G. appeared not to be wearing a bra.
"It's not so much that I need help," Mrs. G. began to explain. "But I've had a very strange affair. I guess what I want is ... is reassurance."
"Reassurance about what?" I asked. "About whether I'm doing the right thing," she said.
"Do you feel guilty about seducing a youngster?" I asked.
"No," she replied resolutely. "I'm not hung up about guilt or anything. I just want too know whether I've done the right thing. You see," she said, "I've cheated on my husband. I've been to bed with women and young boys. I ... I think I'm over my spree, but I want to know if I should tell my husband about it. My husband has a good cock and I love him. I don't want to lose him but I don't want to be dishonest with him either."
"This is the type of thing I wouldn't be able to comment about without hearing the whole story," I said to the attractive Mrs. G. "Could you tell me about it?"
"I'll tell you everything, doctor," she said. "Blow by blow, if you'll excuse the expression."
Mrs. G. then gathered her thoughts. She told me the following story, one of the most unusual I came in contact with in my months of research into the field of child seduction by women. It seemed that Mrs. G. had gently enjoyed a fairly common type of lesbian experience, but her lesbian leanings were cured by the power of a young boy's penis. But I'll let Mrs. G. tell this odd story. This is how I recorded her own words....
...I have to preface my account of what I did by saying a few words, doctor. I don't regret having done anything. I did it all for a reason. Everything I did felt very good. I don't think of myself as a pervert and I don't think any other liberated woman of this day and age would think of me as one, either.
I made it with another woman in my apartment building, and I made it with a young boy who also lives in the building. Both times were extremely enjoyable sexual experiences as I'm about to explain. But between the two, doctor, it's the sex with the young boy that now appeals to me most.
It's hard to explain, but there's something about a young virgin male body that can drive a woman to orgasms instantly. I'll show you exactly what I mean. First let me tell you about how I first strayed from my husband's bed.
For some time I'd been more than passingly interested in other female bodies. I used to buy all the good magazines that showed nude women. I'd look at their bodies and one thought would keep occurring to me. I'd keep thinking that who but another woman could possibly know how to really turn on another woman's body.
Some of my best friends had had lesbian experiences, doctor, and most of them had not been ashamed to tell me about them. More and more I began to think that I was missing something by not making it with another female. The more I thought about it, the more I could imagine what another woman's soft breasts, tender buttocks and tempting little tuft of pubic hair would be like. I could imagine another girl's pussy region and I delighted in the thought of touching some pretty young thing down there in her most intimate spot.
And it wasn't with my fingers that I wanted to touch this imaginary girl. I wanted to plunge my tongue deeply into another female's warm pulsating vagina. I wanted to enjoy the thrill of holding her buttocks in my palms as I drove my face and tongue deeply into her moist and damp slot. And I wanted to do all this while she was doing the same to me in that most wonderful of all positions, the inverted position of lesbian love.
Doctor, it almost takes my breath away to think back on it. But let me tell you how it came to happen. And let me tell you how making it with a lovely young college girl named Bonnie led me directly to have sex with a fifteen-year-old boy.
Bonnie was a girl who lived upstairs in my apartment building, doctor. And because Bonnie was a young college girl of twenty, she was tuned into all the latest sex gimmicks and fads from the campus.
Well, doctor, in 1972, the big fad among the college coeds is lesbianism.
I was up in Bonnie's apartment when she mentioned that fad to me. My head started to pound when that pretty young girl with the lithe young body mentioned lesbianism to me.
"Bonnie," I asked, "does a girl like you go along with all those fads?"
Bonnie smiled to me. I eyed her trim young legs which were revealed by her hot pants. And unless my eyes were mistaken I could see her hard little nipples underneath her blouse.
"Lola," she said to me in return, "a girl would be crazy if she didn't try everything while she's young. That's the time to experiment with all the kinky new stuff."
"Oh, Bonnie," I cooed. "That's just how I feel."
Bonnie came over and sat beside me on the sofa in her living room. Then she gazed deeply into my eyes. Doctor, we did what any two normal healthy girls would do under the circumstances. We began to undress each other.
Bonnie raised her hand to my breast and she started to push her feeling palm against the hard little nipple beneath my sweater. I moaned as soon as that delicate young female touched me. I could feel my pussy starting to water. This was the moment I'd been waiting for. I wasn't about to let it slip away without getting what I wanted.
What did I want? I wanted. Bonnie's trim young body, naturally. One look at her body would make anyone of either sex want it.
As she began to unbutton my sweater, I undid the belt buckle on her hot pants. I opened her trim little shorts just as I felt her open my own sweater.
"Oh, Lola!" she moaned when she opened it. "No bra!"
"Oh, Bonnie!" I squealed when I completely opened the zipper to her shorts. "No panties!"
"No panties," she said. "And a shaved pussy!"
It sure was. Evidently there were a lot of fads on the campus that outsiders didn't know about. Not only were the coeds playing with each other sexually, but the latest fad was to shave the whole vaginal area of its pubic hair.
"I shave in the shower every night," said Bonnie as I moved my hand inside her hot pants and felt the tenderly smooth velvet skin down between her legs. "I'd never grown hair down there again. It's too much fun to be bald."
"Oh, Bonnie, is it?" I asked, begging her to tell me more.
"It sure is," she said. "After all, most of the coeds and little boys I make it with are oralists. That's the kink for the younger generation."
I was so busy exploring the velvet smoothness down between her legs that I wasn't listening attentively when she spoke of little boys. But the subject would come up again, just as surely as a good penis always comes up again.
She pulled my sweater off me and I worked her shorts down and off her. She was bare from the navel on down. I was completely topless. We were having such girlish good times that we continually giggled as we went to work on the rest of each other's clothes.
I opened my slacks and slid them down and off. Then I stood and lowered my panties so that she could see my good old-fashioned tuft of furry pussy hair.
"All I can offer you is an old fashioned pussy with all the pubic hair on it," I said. "Sorry."
She smiled. She unbuttoned her blouse and let her braless nipples poke out of her open shirt. "I think it's a pretty pussy," she said to me softly. "The hair is very delicate and it forms a perfect little brown triangle between your legs."
"Oh, Bonnie," I said to her as I stood completely nude in front of her. "You say the kindest things. I'll bet you're such a considerate girl in bed."
She pulled her blouse off and was completely bare in front of me, her nipples hard and turned-on and jutting out to hard proud points.
"But it's true," she said, placing her hands on my hips and drawing my pussy close in toward her face. "You have a lovely tuft of hair down there. It's so nice that I'd like to kiss it."
"Oh, Bonnie," I moaned. "No man has ever turned me on like this!"
"Of course not," she said. "No man would know how."
We hugged each other and pushed our hard breasts together as we cuddled. I could feel Bonnie's nipples firmly pressed against the soft flesh of my breasts. Then she pulled herself backwards onto the sofa and let me crawl up on top of her.
As she lay facing up from the bottom she opened her legs wide apart. My own body couldn't help but slide down between her legs. I could feel my thick mat of pubic hair press down against her hairless little crotch.
I moved my pubic area and felt Bonnie react. She liked the feel of a mat of pussy hair pressing down against her. It was so sensual for her that she arched up her ass and started to wrap her legs around me.
I pressed my bush right against the bare lips to her pussy and I let her hug me so tightly that I thought our breasts would burst from being squeezed together.
Then her lips reached upwards and pressed to mine. We were just two innocent nude girls doing what came naturally. Our mouths opened and our tongues touched one another. She kissed me torridly and passionately as we ground our crotches together. It was a long soulful embrace. Then she spoke again.
"Lola," Bonnie moaned to me in a cool low voice. "My pussy is soaking wet. Can I sit on your face?"
"Sit on my face?" I asked.
"Oh, yes, Lola, dear," she pleaded from down below me as I felt that velvet crotch of hers press against my pubic patch. "That's what makes a woman feel best. Sitting on someone's face."
"I ... I've never done it," I confessed.
"Never?" she asked, looking up at me in surprise. "You've never lived if you haven't had another woman sit on your face. We have to do it."
Bonnie was a smart college girl and she was showing me all the wonderful new ways of fucking and orgasming. So I did exactly what she asked of me.
We rolled over and I lay out on my back. I spread my legs wide because I didn't know what to expect from the whole operation which she wanted.
When I spread my legs apart she took the opportunity to show me that lesbian affection is indeed a two way street. She pushed her pretty face down between my legs and planted a gentle kiss right on the lips of my vagina. Her tongue wiggled through the pubic hair and affected a short, sweet penetration of my wet little vagina. Then she glided her tongue up and down my pussy lips for a few seconds before getting back to the business at hand.
Bonnie's little crotch area was just so fascinating because it had been shaved. I had been intrigued with the pussies of other women recently, but none of those other snatches turned me on the way Bonnie's bald bare snatch turned me on.
Bonnie straddled my face by setting down her knees above my shoulders and beside my head. As I looked up I could see her breasts hanging way above me with those two hard nipples forming a glorious crown to the two breasts. Then I saw the navel and the little triangle where the pussy hair used to be. She sat up. I saw the vertical lips of her vagina and I knew what she wanted.
She did exactly what she said she wanted to do. She sat down on my face, allowing my nose to be free to breathe, but bringing down the pussy right across my mouth. What could I do from underneath? I opened my mouth and started to slurp.
"Oh, Lola, yes!" she said. "Yes, yes, that's what this girl loves!"
I held my hands on her hips as I began to methodically work my tongue back and forth lengthwise in her snatch. She cooed and moaned in the pure pleasure of the moment. And as I slurped my long wriggling tongue back and forth across her clitoris and across her vaginal entrance, I began to genuinely savor the taste of her pussy.
"Oh, Bonnie," I moaned back to her. "I never knew a pussy tasted to nice. That liquid that a girl makes is just heavenly and succulent."
"Of course it is," she said. "That's why men always want to lick our vaginas. It tastes good for them."
With those words, Bonnie went berserk. She pounded her wet pussy downwards on me with long thrusting actions which nearly drowned me. She held her hands on her hips as she pounded the pussy down onto my mouth and I could tell she was orgasming. Her nipples grew hard and tight as she pressed down and I jammed my wriggling tongue as far back up into her as it could possibly reach. We did it until my tongue got tired and until Bonnie was completely orgasmed out.
"So wonderful," she cooed as she wearily lifted up her pussy and dismounted my face. The area around my mouth was soaking wet now and all I could taste or smell was the pungent scent of fresh warm pussy.
She lay down next to me, kissed my right nipple and started to hold her hand right on my crotch, nestling her fingers right into my pubic hair.
"Was it good for you?" I asked that pretty young college girl. She's practically flooded my face with her warm wet gushings. It better have been good.
"Oh, Lola," she moaned, "it was so good. I have to do something for you in return."
"But-"
I didn't get to finish even the second word of my sentence. Her hands had slipped down to my pussy and were playing with my organ like it were a musical instrument. She had me soaking wet within a few minutes. Then she started to finish me off.
Bonnie assumed the inverted love position on me, plunging her face into my pussy and lapping her tongue all over my crack until she'd orgasmed it out. Then we both lay huddled in a mass of female flesh and warmth.
"Oh, Bonnie," I cooed. "Where did you ever learn such things as sitting on another girl's face. It was just tremendous. No one has lived without doing that."
"I learned it on campus," Bonnie confessed as she still toyed with me by playing with my clitoris with the little finger of her left hand.
"From another coed?" I asked.
She smiled broadly. "To tell you the truth, Lola," Bonnie said. "I learned that from a male. But not from one of that limp-pricked college boys."
"From one of the professors then?" I asked.
"No," she said. "From a little boy!"
"A little boy!" I squealed. "How old?"
"Thirteen," she said. "And he's a real cock-wise little demon. His name is Robb."
"Robb? Thirteen?" I exclaimed. "What are you doing, stealing from cradles?"
"It's the other fad on campus now," Bonnie explained. "You never did let me finish telling you about it before. Right now the real hot thing on campus is finding a little boy to fuck."
"And you found Robb?" I asked incredulously. I studied Bonnie's naked body and I tried to imagine what it would look like when a young boy of thirteen-covered with childish baby fat but equipped with a big adult rod-mounted her and penetrated her pussy.
"He found me," she proclaimed proudly. "Robb came right up to me in the college library and exposed himself. As soon as I saw that young penis hanging out of the fly of his pants I knew the boy was for me."
Bonnie described that young boy to me. She said that Robb was a boy endowed with an enormous penis for such a young boy. She said that one of the fraternity houses had taught the boy how to fuck coeds and that he'd decided he liked it. So he roamed the library flashing his cock at girls until he found one who would be interested in fucking.
"And Robb taught you about sitting on people's faces?" I asked incredulously.
"That's right," said Bonnie. "He's the one who first asked me to sit on his face. Let me tell you, Lola, when it comes to fucking, don't ever be afraid to learn from a little boy!"
Bonnie then reached down to my bush and played with it a little more. I liked the feel of her fingers back down there. But she'd planted in my head an idea which was quick to take root.
"Bonnie?" I asked. "Do you know where I could find a little boy to try?"
"Silly," she said. "I'm a generous girl. I won't make you go searching. You can borrow Robb."
I kissed her on both nipples to thank her for her generosity. I couldn't wait to try out her little teenage lover....
...Mrs. G. paused in her interview and stated that she could only speak for a few more minutes. I said that I would be pleased to let her break off in her story, but I definitely wanted to meet with her again. Perhaps once, and probably twice. She had told me of a lesbian encounter similar to the ones that many modern women are engaging in. But she had told me little about what I wanted to hear about most-her affair with a young boy.
"Did you make a date through Bonnie to meet Robb?" I asked Mrs. G.
"Sort of," she explained. "I wanted to think about it a little bit. Here I was, twenty-nine years old and trying to rationalize making a date with a boy of thirteen. I-"
"Rationalize?" I asked, breaking into her sentence. "Did you feel that you were doing something illicit that you'd have to justify to yourself?"
Mrs. G. sighed. "I guess that's how I felt at first," she admitted. "I felt that I was planning on doing something sneaky or dirty. But I'd been hearing so many other women, both older and younger than I, who felt that a woman can do whatever she wants with her own body."
"That's the common modern attitude," I nodded to Mrs. G.
"So finally I decided that I wanted to do it," she explained. "I was at a point in my life where I wanted to experiment with sex. If something felt good I wanted to do it. Is that so perverted?"
"Not at all," I assured her.
"There are some people who think so," she said. "Some people think that cunnilingus is wrong. Others think that lesbianism is wrong. Still others think that fucking with young teenage boys is immoral. And some people think all those good-feeling things are wrong."
"Many people are ignorant of the pleasurable possibilities of the human body," I said calmly. "But any woman will know how many endogenous zones there are to her body. How could anyone deny that those zones are there for a reason?"
"You seem to understand, doctor," she said slowly. "I'm glad somebody does."
I let Mrs. G. depart at that time and my assistant, Miss Johnson, scheduled her for a few days later. I was most anxious to see Mrs. G. again. I felt that I knew only a bit about her sexual activity. She was an interesting woman. I wanted to know more.
Obviously, it was her quest for sexual experimentation which led her to have sex with the boy. This was evident even before she'd described the actual love acts she'd engaged in with him. When she returned four days later, Mrs. G. described the actual act of love which occurred between woman and child.
III
"I must admit that it felt strange, doctor, Mrs. G. said when she returned to my office for the second interview session.
"Strange to have sex with the boy?" I asked the twenty-nine year old woman.
"No," she said, "that felt marvelous and was fabulously satisfying. "What felt odd was the thought of doing it with a boy, having sex with a mere child."
"Many women feel that way at first," I said. "And perhaps it's that very thrill of strangeness which makes the act so enjoyable."
"Where did it take place?" I asked.
"Bonnie's apartment," she said. "Right upstairs in my own apartment building."
I thought Mrs. G. thought I was still referring to her initial meeting with young Robb. I wasn't. "I mean," I explained, "Where did you first have sex with the boy?"
"Bonnie's apartment," she stated anew. "We were humping and pumping together about ten minutes after we first saw each other."
"How did it happen so quickly?" I inquired. "Particularly on your first meeting with the boy?"
Mrs. G. explained exactly what happened ...
...Bonnie set it all up with me and Robb. She said that she'd let me screw with him if I'd just do one favor for her in return: let her watch us fucking. Naturally I said yes. As long as she put it to me that way there wasn't much argument about it.
Bonnie phoned little Robb and told him that a good friend of hers wanted to meet him. She asked the boy to come up to her apartment and told him that I would be there, too. What she didn't tell him was that she was going to pretend to be absent while she hid in the closet.
Well, doctor, I remember the day very well because it's the day I had my best orgasm.
Bonnie phoned Robb and asked him if he was horny. He said that he was always horny and would be glad to come right up. That was my cue. As soon as Bonnie hung up the telephone I started to strip.
I went into the bedroom and watched myself in a full length mirror as I undressed. I took my dress off and laid it over a chair. Then I pulled my bra up over my head and tossed it away. Down came my panties. I admired myself in the mirror. I could see my furry little muff right between my legs. I admired it and was so pleased with it that I almost forgot to slip my stockings off. I was standing there in nothing but those stockings when I heard the doorbell ring. It was Robb.
I did exactly what Bonnie and I had agreed upon. I hopped into her bed and pulled the sheets over my nude twenty-nine-year-old body. Then Bonnie darted into the closet right near the bed, the closet with the full length mirror on the door.
Then the doorbell rang again.
"Come on in, Robb," I shouted. "It's unlocked."
The door in the next room opened. I could hear that boy coming in. "Bonnie?" I heard him ask.
"Come in here?" I sang out nicely to the boy. "Come into the bedroom Robb."
Cautiously the boy approached. Then I saw him. He was a darling little thirteen-year-old with brown hair and dark little brown eyes. He was wearing jeans and a little red sweater. As soon as he saw me in the bod he started to smile.
"Bonnie's not here anymore," I said to him. "She had to go out quickly."
"Are you her friend?" he asked me.
"I'm Bonnie's good friend," I said to him. "Bonnie and I share everything. Even our lovers."
"Gosh," said the boy.
"That's why I don't have any clothes on under these sheets," I said to him. "Bonnie said that you're a very potent little fellow and that you've served a lot of college girls."
"I've banged my share," he said with a devilish grin. "I get pussy off some of the best looking girls on the campus."
"Well," I said to the boy, "I've been out of college for almost eight years. But most men agree that I have a very satisfying pussy down between my legs."
"Oh?" he said.
"I don't shave it like Bonnie does," I said, trying to interest him in a pussy which was kept in the more traditional style. "But it's the in-sides that count. Down between my lips it's very warm and wet and satisfying."
"Gosh," he said.
"Maybe you should come over and sit on the bed with me," I suggested to that handsome youngster. "Bonnie will be away for an hour or so. It will give you a perfect chance to get better acquainted with me."
He started to come over to me. He came right up to the side of that bed. I could see stirrings down beneath his fly. I could feel similar stirrings down between the lips of my vagina. He was right next to the bed and I felt like taking him in my arms, pulling out his cock and hauling him down on top of me.
"Bonnie says that you showed her your penis in the college library," I said to him. "Is that right?"
He nodded.
"Will you show it to me here?" I asked. "It's very private here in her bedroom. If you showed it to her in public I don't know why you wouldn't want to show it to her good friend in private."
He thought about it. Then I did something to urge him on a little more. I reached to those sheets which covered my body and I began to lower them. They had been all the way up to my shoulders, but that wasn't quite intimate enough. I lowered them so that young Robb could see the cleavage between my breasts.
His cock throbbed beneath his fly and he watched attentively as those sheets began to come down. , "If you show me your penis," I said to him, "I'll do something very nice to it."
His hand dropped to his fly. His zipper began to come down. The farther down it came, the warmer and wetter was the feeling down inside my snatch.
I lowered the sheets farther. Then I quickly lowered them all the way down to my hips. Young Robb could see my bare breasts right down in front of him. I felt the sheets tightly clinging to my body. He could easily see the outline of my pussy down between my legs. The legs were spread apart beneath the sheets. He'd have to have been blind not to see that, too.
He fumbled with his belt buckle and I reached over to help him. I got him to sit down on the edge of the bed and I completely unbuckled his belt. Then I opened his pants by unlinking a little snap at his waist. Open came the trousers. I saw a huge bulge down underneath his white cotton underpants.
"I know what that bulge is," I told him. "That's your big long rod."
"That's right, lady," he said.
"My name is Lola," I cooed to him. "And I think I know why your penis is so hard."
"Why?" he asked.
"It's because you're sitting on the edge of a bed and there's a naked woman in the bed." He nodded.
"Well, Robb," I said, "I think that you and Lola should get much better acquainted. And the best way a woman can get acquainted with a boy is if he has his underpants down."
"So that the penis is exposed?" he asked.
"That's right, Robb," I said. "So that the penis is exposed."
He stood up and took off his red wool sweater, baring his strong boyish chest while his jeans dropped down to around his knees. As he pulled the sweater up over his head, however, I reached to the elastic waistband of his underpants. With a firm grip on the underpants, I began to pull them down.
Down came those white cotton briefs. As they came down I first saw the thick mat of pubic hair around his crotch. Then out popped a long blue-veined penis, twitching and sitting there in front of me, all nice and hard and bigger than life. I pulled his underpants all the way down to his knees and I admired the hairy young cock he had.
"Well!" I said as he disposed of his sweater and stood before me with his manly young charms exposed. "You sure are an attractive young man. Just look at those tools!"
On hearing my words that youngster gave a fantastic wriggle to his penis, a wriggle that made my whole body shiver with excitement.
"Oh, Robb!" I muttered when I saw him do that. "Can you wriggle it like that when it's inside a woman, too?"
He nodded. "I can do just about anything with it," he said to me. "But the best thing it does is leave women satisfied."
He was completely bare now as he pushed his pants and his underpants down off his nubile young legs. I admired that hairy cock of his as he sat down on the edge of the bed again. I even reached down to his cock and took it in my hands, teasing the little underside of the penis as I admired it.
Then I reached to the sheets. Out of the corner of my eye I could see where Bonnie was watching us. She was standing in the closet and had pulled down her panties. Under her skirt she was fingering her clitoris. She was watching us through the gap between the door and the wall. The door was open just enough so that she could peek out that gap and I could see the reflection of Robb and me in that full length mirror.
I placed one hand on the boy's hip as I began to draw the sheets down farther off my body. Down the sheet came, uncovering the upper part of my lower belly and the little trail of hairs which led from my navel down to my whole massive pussy area.
I tossed the sheets off and the boy saw my bare pussy. The whole tuft was hairy and warm and the insides were soaking wet in anticipation of him. Bonnie excitedly watched from the closet as I continued to massage the boy's sensitive shaft.
"Now, Robb," I cooed to him as I kicked the sheets completely off my body and permitted the boy who was sixteen years younger than I to view my nude body, "isn't this the type of body you'd like to insert your fat little organ into?"
He nodded. His hands started to move toward my pussy area. One hand glided over the pubic hair and the other hand tried to wrap all the way around to my bare buttocks.
He leaned forward and planted a kiss on my bush. Then he slipped a finger between the upper folds of the vaginal lips. He began to massage my clitoris. I relaxed fully and started to forget the fact that Bonnie was just a few feet away in the closet, watching her young boy friend and her older girl friend having a good go at it. Her fingers were massaging across the head of her own clit just as briskly and nicely as Robb's were gliding across mine.
Within a few more minutes Robb's fingers had deserted my teased clitoris and had begun to play in the warm recesses of my vaginal canal. His fingers slipped an inch or two into my slot. Then they drifted three and four inches in. Then he twisted them all the way back and began to tease me by rotating those fingers all around my vagina in wide circular motions. I was starting to moan aloud now. I never knew how exciting a thirteen-year-old boy can be.
I looked at his angelic young face as his fingers twisted back and forth within my wet box. I could see movement in the closet which told me that Bonnie was giving herself a fierce jiggling. But I promptly forgot about her. Robb was withdrawing his fingers and was starting to move over on top of me. I spread my legs apart as wide as I could and I begged that thirteen-year-old boy to mount me.
His young body climbed on top of mine. He was very adapt with his penis. With some men you have to hold the penis and direct it in. But no such crap with Robb. His penis's head found my slot easily and with one firm thrust he shoved that huge hard cock of his right between the wet hungry lips of my vagina.
"Oh, Robb," I moaned to him. "You feel even bigger than you look!"
The boy said nothing. Instead he started to move that long hard rod of his back and forth in my tender wet slot. I moved my loins beneath him to keep pace. I moaned and I sighed and I watched our bodies in that full length mirror.
He was on top of me in such an angle that I couldn't get a full view of us in that mirror. All I could see was my legs spread wide open while his ass bobbed up and down in the area between those legs. But even if I couldn't see what was going on, I sure could feel it. His cock was driving in and out of me and bringing me way up to a real orgasmic frenzy. I throbbed my pussy back and forth against his cock and I began to orgasm.
I felt his long hard cock throb in and out of me as it started to build its way up for a great big blast. I watched in the mirror as I arched up my legs and wrapped them completely around Robb's midsection. His prick pushed in and out and built up for a huge hard come. I panted and moaned. I was beginning to blast off with some genuinely great orgasms as that young boy's cock was throbbing in and out of me. I was so proud of seducing the youngster, even if Bonnie, who was in the closet fingering her clit, had arranged the whole thing.
As my own pussy smashed forward and back in the frantic bliss of a whole series of orgasms, Robb's young penis swelled up to the longest length I'd felt inside me that day. His rod was pushing deep into me and tickling the most intimate little parts down inside me.
"Oh, Robb," I moaned with a long panting gasp. "You're so so long!"
The boy grunted in anticipation and I squeezed my legs around him again, undulating the walls of my vagina forward and back around his long probing prong. I panted and I cooed and I felt his penis begin to erupt.
His dick spasmed and unloaded down inside me. I could feel the hot warmth exploding down within my vagina and squirting the seminal fluid down to the most intimate recesses of my pussy. I was squealing and almost yelping for joy now. My whole pussy was contorted with orgasmic bliss as young Robb's thirteen-year-old cock wriggled and unloaded its long hot orgasmic blast inside me.
When he had completely come I held my legs around him for a few extra seconds. I liked the feel of that youngster's penis still inserted in my vagina. He tried to dismount me and I wouldn't let him. Bonnie stuck her head out of the closet to see what we were doing. She knew that her little friend had come, and she could tell that I was practically orgasmed out. But I still had one final request before I was letting young Robb off for the day.
"Oh, Robb," I moaned to him. "You're simply a tremendous cocksman."
He grunted his thanks to my compliment.
"But I still have a little tingling feeling down inside my snatch," I explained. "I've felt it before and there's only one way to relieve it."
"What's that?" he asked.
"I'd like to sit on your face," I explained. "Please, Robb?"
The boy had a very serious look on his face as he pulled his whacker out of my wet snatch and pondered my request.
"I don't know," he said. "Normally I just let girls sit on my face before fucking."
"You've never done it afterwards?" I asked in a voice which had a teasing tone. He shook his head.
"Robb, boy," I cooed. "You don't know what you're missing. The pussy tastes even better after than before."
"It does?" he asked.
"Everyone knows that," I giggled. "Everyone who has ever muff-dived knows that."
"Oh, yeah?" he asked.
"Yes, Robb," I said, "but I guess you're very young and innocent and wouldn't know about things like that."
That did it. He rolled over on his back and lay out flat on the bed. He invited me to climb aboard and straddle his face.
I moved up on top of him and placed one leg on each side of his head. Then I slowly squatted my wet pussy right down on his tender young face, the lips of my vagina descending right down onto his facial lips.
"You're soaking!" he exclaimed as my wet muff pressed to his face. But I wasn't about to deter either of us from the good physical fun that was in store. I squatted until I was completely down on him. Then I felt his mouth open up underneath me and his tongue came swishing out.
He slurped upwards as all my crud and all his come started to glide down and out of my wet penetrated vagina. It all came down onto his face and tongue. He slurped it out of me. His tongue felt so good down there inside of me that I started to build for another orgasm.
Robb slurped enthusiastically. His tongue lapped all the cream and juice out of me. I managed to get one more good hard orgasm off before I was fully expended....
...Mrs. G. concluded her story on that point. But since the idea of sitting on the face of a partner had now figured into the testimony she'd given me at two different interviews, I sought to pursue the idea a bit more.
"Tell me, Mrs. G., " I said to her, "why do you appear to have such a fixation with sitting on the face of your partner. Is it from that initial experience with Bonnie?"
"That's exactly where it comes from," she said. "I had never even thought of doing it until Bonnie taught me all about it. But now ... well, now I like it almost more than I like the act of screwing."
"I see," I said. "May I ask why?"
"You'd have to be a woman to understand," she said. "I guess it's sort of a modern way of cunnilingus. You know, with the woman getting out from underneath and getting to stay in the superior position."
"You like being on top?" I asked.
"I love it," she said.
"What about your husband?" I inquired. "Have you ever had cunnilingus performed on you by your husband in that way?"
Mrs. G. gave me a wry smile. "My husband?" she asked. "Don' make me laugh, doctor. I love him and he satisfies me when we fuck. But he's a traditionalist when it comes to cunnilingus. He says that it should be performed with the woman lying on her back and the man on top of her. Further, he'll only do it if I suck him off at the same time."
"Most intriguing," I said, making a series of notes on a pad of paper in my lap. Often these contested areas of marital sex are exactly the causes of a wife's wayward sexual behavior. I certainly began to believe this to be true in Mrs. G.'s case.
"To tell you the truth, doctor," Mrs. G. added. "It's not really that important that I get to sit on my husband's face. But when it comes to screwing with young boys, I find that I don't really enjoy the sex unless I'm allowed to squat down on the boy's face first."
"Am I to conclude that you ask all the boys you seduce to let you sit on their faces?"
"Well," Mrs. G. said with a grin, "I don't always ask, but usually I get to do it. Should I give you an example?"
I told Mrs. G. that I would indeed enjoy hearing an example of how she sat on a boy's face without telling him before hand that she was going to do it. I was, however, again running into schedule problems. Immediately after Mrs. G.'s morning appointment I was due to meet with a forty-year-old spinster who had recently allowed herself to be seduced by her twelve-year-old nephew. The woman was undergoing psycho-emotional experiences not only from being seduced, but because that her twelve-year-old nephew had been the first male to ever try to seduce her.
Thus I asked Mrs. G. to have lunch in the city at the expense of my research clinic. I then had Miss Johnson, my clinical assistant, set a brief appointment for Mrs. G. for early that same afternoon.
When Mrs. G. returned, she told me a brief but unusual story about the fate of a young boy who came to her apartment trying to sell magazine subscriptions.
II
"I'll have to confess something to you right from the start," Mrs. G. said to me when she returned to my offices after lunch.
"And what would that be?" I asked.
"I nearly didn't come back," she confessed. "I saw something during my lunch that was almost irresistible."
"And what was that?" I asked.
"I saw a young boy of maybe only eleven years. He was walking in that small park down the street from your office. He was such a cute little darling. I wanted so much to have him become my friend."
"Your friend?" I asked.
"Friend, lover," Mrs. G. replied. "You know what I mean. I wanted him for sex. He was a dear little red-haired boy with freckles. Did you know, doctor, that little freckled boys often have freckles on their penises?"
"But if he was only eleven,' Mrs. G., " I protested, "wouldn't he be a bit young for a woman of twenty-nine?"
"There's no such thing," she said, "as a boy too young to satisfy a woman."
"What if the youngster isn't even past puberty yet?" I inquired. "Isn't it at least somewhat important that the boy be able to raise an erection?"
"Sure," she said. "It's important. But it's not the end of the world if the boy can't give you a stick. A resourceful woman knows other ways."
"Ah, I see," I said. "Other ways such as sitting on the boy's face?"
"Exactly," said Mrs. G. "That's what this woman wants ... and that's what she usually gets."
"Is that what happened in the incident you were about to describe to me this morning?" I asked.
"Well, it's only part of what happened," she said. "You asked me if I asked the boys to let me squat down on their kissers. I said I sometimes did it without asking."
"That's right," I said. "And you were going to tell me about a recent incident, I believe," I said to her.
Mrs. G. then proceeded with the incident which she'd saved from that morning....
...It was just last week, doctor. The incident is still fresh in my mind and the tingle is still fresh in my pussy. I was at home at about two o'clock in the afternoon when the buzzer to my apartment rang.
I went right to the front door to answer the buzzer. I opened the door and there standing before me was a cute little fellow of maybe fourteen years. He announced that he was trying to raise money for his boy scout troop by selling magazine subscriptions.
"Just what I've wanted for so long," I said to him. "Magazines!"
"Maybe you'd like to look at my list of possible magazines," he said, handing me the list.
"I'd like to take a long look at that and a long look at you, young fellow," I said. "What about coming in and sitting down?"
It was so easy to get him in. He told me that I was the first woman to give him a friendly reception in the whole building.
"I can't imagine any woman in her right mind being unfriendly to a fine looking boy like you," I said to him. We sat on a sofa in my living room. I made sure to sit just close enough so that I could rub my left breast right up against his side.
"It's got nothing to do with what I look like," he said. "Nobody wants magazines."
I was going to tell him that I didn't want magazines either and what he looked like had everything in the world to do with why he got past my front door. But I was quiet. I had a more subtle way of telling him what I wanted.
I moved my hand over to his knee and I put down the list of magazines that he had given me.
"I think I'd prefer to ask you directly about what magazines you have," I said to him. "Do you have anything which is more explicit than the usual mass circulation magazines?"
"Explicit?" he asked. I nodded. "Explicit about what?" he asked again.
"Explicit about the most important thing that can happen between a woman and a boy," I said softly.
"Motherhood?" he asked.
"Close," I teased. "I was thinking more in terms of sex."
"Sex?" he asked, beginning to get a little nervous. My hand moved up from his knee to a spot halfway up his leg.
"Yes, sex," I said. "I'm sure you've heard of it."
His face became red and he was very nervous.
"I ... I don't think I should stay, he said.
He got up to leave but I grabbed his shoulder and sat him down in the seat beside me on the sofa.
"You're a very poor little businessman," I said. "You should be ready to do almost anything to make a big subscription sale."
"But-?"
"I just happen to want to buy five subscriptions," I said. "But you have to do something for me, too."
"What?" he asked.
"Take down your trousers," I said.
He struggled to get up and this time I really jumped the boy. I slid my hand all the way up his leg and grabbed his zipper. With one good yank the zipper came zipping down, baring a little pair of blue boxer shorts that he wore underneath.
He continued to struggle but I undid his belt and his pants. "Don't be concerned," I said. "All that's going to happen is that a woman is going to bare her pussy to you."
"I don't want that," he pleaded.
"What's the matter? Are you queer?"
We wrestled around and I had his pants down to his knees and his shirt completely undone. In struggling the top of my dress had become ripped and my left boob was almost ready to fall out.
"I've never done it before," he squealed. "I don't know how to do it."
"A feeble excuse if I've ever heard one," I shot back. And with one good lunge I grabbed my hands around that big mass that was in his crotch. I didn't squeeze, but I threatened to.
"Either you do what I ask," I said as I held his nuts and his rod firmly in my palms, "or I squeeze."
He gulped loudly. I drove a mean bargain.
"Come on," I said. "From what I feel down there I think you're already erect."
He gulped again. My tit popped out. He stared at it and his rod grew all the harder as he stared. Then he nodded. Yes, he said, he'd do it.
Well, doctor, you can see how shy he was for a boy of fourteen. Naturally I couldn't, discuss something like sitting on his face with him. He would have thought I was a pervert or something. Obviously I was going to have to lead him into doing it without his knowing in advance.
I took his clothes off and pulled down his underpants. Out came his rod. It was fat and hard. It was also virgin, according to what he said.
"I'd always been saving it for some girl I really liked," he said as his voice tried to keep from breaking.
"That's a silly out-of-date idea," I admonished him. "You miss out on a lot of fun unless you fuck anyone at anytime you can."
I pulled off my dress and let my big feminine boobs hang before his eyes. Then I pulled off my stockings and stood before him with nothing but panties on.
The fourteen-year-old boy sat there nude on the sofa. He was staring at my crotch since the outline of my hairy vagina was clearly visible through my pink silk panties. . "I'll bet you've never seen the live hairy pussy of a grown woman," I said to him softly. He shook his head. I slowly pulled down my panties and his eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the hairy big triangle down between my legs.
"That's the pussy," I said, "and that," I added as I pointed to his cock, "is the instrument you're going to penetrate it with."
He said nothing and I went toward him. I pushed him over backward onto the sofa. His penis was cutely standing straight up, pointing right at the ceiling of my apartment. I reached to his cock and started to work on it with my fingers as my lips pressed to his and as I started to kiss him.
The little hole on the tip of his scout's young rod already had a lot of juice in it. It was typical of one of the cutest tricks of young boys who have done little or no previous fucking before I catch them. Their penises excite easily and always have a lot of juice right up front even before the penis is called on to squirt forth. This boy was no exception. I caressed his nuts and kissed him madly as I readied my strategy for plopping my pussy down squarely on his mouth.
As the boy lay flat on the bed with his prong aiming at the clouds, I threw my leg over his midsection and straddled him, holding my wet pussy just about above his navel. I lowered it slightly so that the hairy tuft would glide across his lower belly.
"Are ... are you going to sit down on my penis?" he asked in a childishly concerned voice.
"Yes," I answered, "eventually I am. But first I want you to close your eyes."
"My eyes?" he asked.
"That's right," I said. "There's an old expression among women who fuck that some things are so good that you have to taste them."
"Taste them?" he moaned.
"Just shut those eyes," I ordered, "before I jam each eye with a nipple."
He shut those eyes and quickly I moved my loins upward on his body. Before he knew it I had straddled his face and had plopped my pussy smack dab onto his mouth.
I manipulated his penis by reaching behind me and stroking it with my fingers. But the boy looked up with terrified eyes that I could see by looking down between my breasts. His mouth was directly below my pussy and he tried to yell at me. But as he yelled his lips and tongue and breath moved all over my pussy, giving me just the lovely feeling down there that I'd wanted. Finally he'd tired of yelling and protesting. And by that time, just as I'd planned it, nature's order had taken over.
Like any man (or woman) he liked the taste of my foaming wet vagina. He had caught a few mouthfuls of it while he was trying to howl his protest at me. As soon as he caught one taste of that luscious liquid he started to forget about his surprise and just slurp upwards on my succulent pussy. He made me orgasm several times by thrusting his hard young tongue upwards into my vaginal canal. Finally it was I who had to restrain him. I lifted my pussy off his wet mouth, moved down his body, and plopped my slot right down over the upraised needle which was still sticking up between his legs. I felt the long hard prong stick deep into me. I pumped hard for almost two full minutes. My own pussy blasted away with orgasms while the magazine boy's penis built itself into a stick which felt like a baseball bat down there. Finally he exploded up into me. That youngster came so hard that I thought his jet of foaming hot come was going to propel me up through the ceiling. But it didn't. It merely drove my pussy to a fabulous orgasm and left my body all tingling for hours afterward ...
...Mrs. G. brought her tale of youthful seduction to a close with those words. I had by now acquired a good insight into Mrs. G.'s psycho-sexual problems. As we neared a discussion of my analysis of her case, however, she reverted back to one of her opening remarks, that of her need for reassurance.
"I know I seduced that cute little magazine boy," she said, "and maybe it wasn't a very nice thing to do. But I don't think I hurt the boy, doctor, do you?"
"It's hard to tell," I answered. Obviously there was no physical damage. The fact of the matter is, since the male animal is what he is, that the boy probably loved it and soon told all his friends about it in a teen-age 'bull session'. "
"That makes me feel better, doctor," Lola G. said. "I guess I feel that I'm doing something wrong and I need to be reassured that I'm not. I don't care if he tells all his friends. Hell, I hope he tells them who and where I am. I'd like to see them."
Mrs. G. and I then discussed my feelings on her case. An analysis was not difficult and she did not dispute either of my two findings.
I told Mrs. G. that she suffered from a mild guilt complex about her lesbian activity and her seduction of young boys. But I told her, too, just as I informed many other patients, that her feelings were normal under her circumstances.
Mrs. G., like many modern women, needed a certain variety of sexual activity as she approached her thirties. Obviously that's what she was looking for when she had sex with her friend Bonnie and it's what she found when she seduced young boys.
Second, and perhaps more interesting, was the facet of Mrs. G.'s case which was represented by sitting on the face of her partners.
Mrs. G., in seeking to establish a sexual independence outside of her marriage, sought to establish herself as a liberated dominant woman. She, like any other woman in a similar situation, wanted to move "up from under" as the modern saying goes. Symbolically that's exactly what she was doing by assuming a female-superior, style of cunnilingus.
Her insistence on having cunnilingus performed on her in this manner by teen-age boys was an assertion of her need for sex outside her marriage. True, she asked her husband if he would perform cunnilingus on her in this way, too. But she knew what his answer would be before she even asked. And, probably, if he had said yes, she would not have accepted. As long as she felt that she had to have cunnilingus in this manner and her husband wouldn't do it for her, she felt justified in seducing boys. Justified and independent. Thus sitting on the face of young boys rationalized her behavior and was a psychological defense against the guilt feelings of committing adultery.
As interesting as I found Mrs. G.'s case to be, I feel the following case history to be perhaps the most intriguing case of an older woman's physical desire for a younger boy that I came across. It all began, as you'll soon discover, with a brisk spanking.
CASE HISTORY THREE
Mrs. Rosalyn T., thirty-eight years of age and divorced, not only had a fixation with young boys, but she had a further fixation upon their buttocks.
Mrs. T. made this confession to me within the first few minutes of our interview. Mrs. T. was very much aware of what she was doing and why she was doing it. She was, however, at a complete loss to control it.
"You have what you describe as a 'compulsion' to have sex with young boys," I said to Mrs. T. "Is that right?"
"It is, doctor," she replied. "Any male under eighteen years of age is fair game for me. It's lucky that my own two children are girls or I would have fucked them by now."
"How many young boys have you had sex with?" I asked. "Can you give me an estimate?"
"I can give you something better than an estimate," she replied. "I can give you the exact number. I've actually had genital sex with nineteen boys. I've gotten three others to finger my pussy. One of those three licked my pussy, too. I've had heavy kissing scenes with one or two others and there was one little doll of twelve whom I taught to fuck me rectally."
"Rectally?" I asked. "Why?" She shrugged. "I figured I'd like it," she said. "I thought it would make a good change of pace."
"Did it?"I asked.
"You bet," she said. "It's too bad that more males of all ages don't know about ass-fucking. It's good for the man and it's absolutely tremendous for the woman."
Mrs. T. appeared quite spry and youthful for her thirty-eight years. She wore a trim minidress which was low cut at the breasts and very short at the hem. Her legs were sturdy and attractive and her dark hair was carefully and expensively coiffured. Mrs. T. could easily have passed for a moddish woman of society. Instead, she was actually a middle-aged housewife with abundantly good looks and an uncontrollable urge to have sex with young boys.
"I guess I have a thing about the ass, doctor," she continued in her discussion of rectal sex. "After all, it was an ass that I couldn't resist that began this whole thing about two years ago."
"Just how do you mean that?" I asked. "It was a pair of buttocks that started it off," she repeated. "I go ape-shit for buttocks. You know how some men are about breasts and how other men are about legs? Well, that's they way I am over the buttocks of young boys."
"What qualities do you look for in a buttock?" I asked, seeing how far I could pursue the point with Mrs. T.
"Firmness and shape," she answered immediately. "I like a boy to have a solid little seat. I don't like fat asses and a pimple on a nice buttock can wreck everything. I do, however, insist on the proper shape. A good pair of buttocks will be rounded gracefully but certainly not to excess. Flatness is terrible. It's just like a woman who is flat chested."
"I see," I said. Mrs. T.'s last remark caused me to notice her own breasts. They were firm and rounded, almost as if to match the description she'd just given for the ideal buttocks. Her breasts were very attractive and, if anything, tended to be larger than the average. "But how," I inquired, "did this whole affair about buttocks begin?"
Mrs. T. told me this story....
...You see, doctor, the whole thing about buttocks began with a fixation about slapping young boys across the buttocks. And it began about two years ago a few weeks after my divorce.
I was asked by a woman who lived in my neighborhood to stay at her house one evening with her two sons. The boys were ages ten and thirteen and they were always getting into mischief while their parents were away. The boys' mother thought they'd probably burn the whole house down by the time the parents got home unless someone was there to watch them.
The older boy's name was Roger. He was thirteen. The ten-year-old's name was Mike. Between them they became double trouble for my pussy that night.
Before going out for the evening their mother had told me one thing which I was to remember above all others.
"If the boys start any kind of trouble," she told me, "there's only one kind of punishment they understand. The physical kind."
"Exactly what does that mean?" I asked.
"Spanking," the boys' father said. "A good crisp thrashing across the rump is the only thing either of them can understand. I'd escalate and start kicking them in the nuts if I could, but my wife won't let me."
"Well," I said, "I really don't think I'll have any trouble with Roger and Mike. I've always gotten along well with them."
"That's more than anyone else can say," said their father. "The last babysitter we got for them ended up bound and gagged and lock in the cellar."
"I guess they just didn't like her," I answered hopefully.
"Her?" laughed the boys' father. " 'She' was a two hundred pound fireman."
Well, I let the parents go out and I kept my fingers crossed. Frankly I was kind of hoping that there'd be a little excitement that evening. I'd been home alone most nights since I'd kicked out my husband. I was getting pretty lonely, pretty bored and frankly, pretty horny. The only relief I'd gotten lately was from a big seven inch dark brown vibrator which I'd purchased at the local drugstore. And what an embarrassing time I'd had in buying it. When I'd picked up the vibrator off the shelf and taken it to the register to pay for it, the girl behind the counter started to giggle and said that she understood that I was now divorced. The nerve. If I want to dildo myself, it's my business and no one else's.
The boys fooled around in the house that evening while I watched television. A few hours went by and they caused no trouble at all. I was sitting downstairs watching the television news when a special feature report came on.
The report was about young teenagers and pre-teenagers and how they were starting to have sex at earlier ages all the time. The television reporter told how it was now not unusual for children of eleven and twelve to be steadily screwing with other kids in their class at school. The reporter even interviewed one little boy of twelve who reportedly had inseminated two teenage girls of sixteen.
"How did you first learn about sex?" the reporter asked that very appealing youngster.
"From a friend," he said, not willing to confess to much at first.
"A girl friend at your school?" the reporter pressed.
"No, sir," said the boy. "From one of my mother's friends."
"An older man told you the facts of life?" questioned the reporter.
"No, sir," said the boy, now gleefully starting to talk a bit more. "An older woman taught me about the facts of life."
"An older woman?" the reporter repeated for emphasis.
"That's right," said the boy. "She was about twenty years older than me, but she taught me how to-! "
The last word was bleeped so that the television audience would remain innocent. But I knew what that youngster had been talking about. And it sure set my mind to wondering about the two boys who were underneath that same roof with me right now.
I got thinking about those healthy husky youngsters and the next thing I knew my pussy was starting to develop that sense of longing that I'd felt so much of lately. Down in my pussy there was an intense desire which became worse and worse the more I thought about those two boys. I knew that pretty soon I'd have to get myself a real male with a real live cock. A vibrator can only hold a girl for so long.
Suddenly I head shouting and banging upstairs where the boys were. Then I heard a loud crash. They'd broken something.
"The little bastards!" I cursed to myself as I jumped up from my chair and started quickly upstairs. "They're up to the same old stunts!"
Then I heard another bang and another crash. They were in their parents' bedroom. And they were doing something obviously that they shouldn't.
I raced up the rest of those stairs and went directly to the room all the noise was coming from. I threw open the door and looked in. There they were. One boy, Mike, the ten-year-old, had a baseball glove on one hand and was holding a softball in the other. Roger, the thirteen-year-old, was holding a baseball bat.
They looked at me and smiled as I stood furiously in the doorway. They had already knocked over a big ceramic lamp and had broken it. Another lamp lay on the floor. The covers were off the beds and bottles of their mother's perfume were scattered all over the floor.
"You little monsters!" I howled. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
They smiled at me. "Playing baseball," said Roger casually. And with that his brother tossed the ball at Roger. Roger, holding the baseball bat, swung the bat and connected with the ball. He hit a line drive over his brother's head and sent it crashing through the huge picture window in that room.
"Home run!" they bellowed with pride. "The ball game is over!"
"It sure is!" I screamed. I entered the room and slammed the door behind me. I remembered their parents' instructions. If ever a pair of male children deserved a good paddling across the ass, these two sure deserved it now. The trouble was that my attempts to punish them would soon develop into just another score for them.
I went for Roger first since he was bigger and was more- likely to get away. He dropped the baseball bat, giggled, and tried to evade me when I lunged for him.
But little did he know back then two years ago, that he wasn't just dealing with any old thirty-six-year-old woman. When I was a senior in high school I had been the captain of the girls' field hockey team. I was as much of a jock as anyone without a penis could be.
I grabbed Roger by the back of his shirt and I hauled him to me. I moved to the bed and sat down on the edge of it.
"Damn it!" I thought. "He's such a big boy to have to spank. This could be tough!"
He struggled with me but not enough. As I sat on the edge of that bed I managed to undo his belt and start working his pants down. Mike, the ten-year-old, stood in that doorway. He had started to flee but now he was fascinated at the sight of his older brother about to get his ass whacked. I looked away from Mike and then looked again at him, doing a fast double take.
I thought I'd seen. ... Yes! I had seen a great big bulging under the crotch of the ten-year-old's pants. I couldn't believe it. Seeing his brother trying to resist a spanking was giving ten-year-old Mike an erection. Worse, his erection was giving me a hornier and hornier pussy. I thought back at what I'd seen and heard on that television. Suddenly those two young boys were sex objects again. I kept thinking about fucking with them as I worked Roger's pants down and off.
His hands tried to cover his ass, but I pushed his hands away. Down came the underpants with a good hard yank. Then his round firm fleshy bare white ass was spread perfectly across my lap.
I looked at that ass and again I glanced up at young Mike. Mike's hands were down at his crotch now and the boy was obviously feeling his hard penis from the outside of his zipper.
As Roger kicked and squealed I slapped the flat of my palm across the cheeks of his ass. The slap crackled through that room. I saw the big red mark form across the boy's bare buttocks and I slapped again, bringing my palm down crisply on that same reddened spot on his white buttock cheeks.
Again and again I slapped. Each time the slap resounded through my whole body and built that sense of urgency down in my pussy. Then I felt something wriggle in my lap. It was something around on the other side of the boy's ass. It was his penis, wriggling and stiffening up to life.
I slapped his ass harder and harder, trying to deny the thoughts that were going through my mind and trying to ignore the feelings that were zipping through my poor pussy. Young Roger's cock was hard as a big spike in my lap. It was even trying to point down between my legs where my pussy was all hot and wet. Mike kept watching me from the doorway. And suddenly, even though my attention was riveted on the bare ass in my lap, I knew I had to get out of that room. Otherwise I was certain that I was going to go for one or both of those big penises.
I let Roger glide off my lap. He stood up in front of me and I tried to look him in the eye.
"That's your punishment," I tried to say bravely, "until your parents get home."
"You didn't do anything to me," he said with a devilish glint in his eye, "except make my prick hard."
I glanced down to his crotch. He stood there in front of me smiling with his pants down to his knees and his big hard penis pointing upwards and staring me right in the face. It was true. The spanking had made his penis as hard as a cement wall. And that penis down there in that potent young crotch was beginning to look irresistible.
I couldn't believe what was happening. The boys knew they had me sexually! Boys so young as ten and thirteen about to conquer a woman who was thirty-six at the time. I couldn't believe it. But my pussy was giving me the distress call. I had to have cock. And those two boys sensed it.
Mike reached down to his pants. I studied his hand as he lowered it to his zipper. He pulled the zipper down and then lowered his pants completely. Out came his prick. There wasn't much hair on it but it was hard. He was exposing himself to me and I was loving it.
"Bet you're pretty horny since the divorce," chirped Roger as he stood right in front of me with his hard cock sticking right out at me. "Bet you sure could use a bit of a shafting down in your slot."
"I don't believe it," I muttered to myself. But the next thing I remember doing was reaching forward to the boy I had just spanked. I reached around his hips and held my bare hand on the warm crimsoned cheeks of his ass. I drew him to me. When his penis was just inches from my face I took it into my mouth. I began to suck on it as I held my two hands to his ass to hold the boy steady. He placed his own hands on my head as I sucked him.
Without saying anything Mike dropped his pants completely and took his shirt off. He was completely bare when he came over to me to get a good look at the way I was sucking on his brother's penis. It had been so long since I'd held a whang between my lips. It was exciting to get one back in there. It was even more exciting to become sexually aroused with two boys of such tender ages. There was a certain air of deviltry to what we were going to do; yet there was an air of innocence about it, too.
I reached to my skirt and unsnapped the waist buttons. Then I began to open my sweater. Roger reached in and held my breasts before I even got my sweater off. Mike tugged on my skirt.
Off came the skirt, then the sweater. Then my blouse and I was down to panties and bra. It was so exciting. The ten-year-old reached behind me and unhooked my bra while thirteen-year-old Roger began to draw down my panties.
The bra came off first, baring my breasts. The boys were fascinated with my big womanly knockers and they had to paw them and nibble at them for a few seconds. I lay backwards onto their parents' bed as both boys nipped at my tits. At one point there was a boy nibbling on each tit, a situation which absolutely forced me to push my hand down beneath my waist and start to play with my clitoris.
My panties were down a few inches. They hadn't uncovered my bush yet, but Roger quickly rectified that situation. He pulled the panties down off my bush and the boys were every bit as fascinated with my bush as they had been with my tits. They had to poke their little noses down there to sniff it and they had to paw their curious little palms across it to feel it. All any of that accomplished was to make it wetter.
Then I lay back on top of that bed and begged for them to go on with it. "Who's first?" I pleaded. "Who wants to be first?"
I looked to the ten-year-old and he giggled. I was still amazed that a boy of ten could even be capable of an erection. But he was, no doubt about it. I don't think he had been able to get one for very long because his little crotch was still almost bare. But that short young rod was hard. That was the important thing.
Mike's big brother, the old man of thirteen, did the trick on me. As I opened my legs he moved his body right on top of mine. He fumbled around down there and I had to reach down and hold his penis, guiding it into the slot.
Then I felt the head of it gliding past the lips of my vagina. There I was, the thirty-six-year-old babysitter getting planked by the two kids she was supposed to be supervising. But I didn't care. I hadn't been screwed since before my divorce. And the most erotic thing I'd seen in months had been Roger's bare ass.
The boy glided his penis in and out of me. I reached down and clutched his ass as he fucked me. He wasn't that big physically so I was able to get my hands on his buttocks, administering little slaps to those buttocks as his long shaft glided in and out of me.
I panted and savored the feel of a penis down inside me again. I heard a slight slapping sound right next to me on the bed and I looked up. Mike was gliding his hand up and down the long shaft of his penis. The boy was masturbating briskly. I didn't care. The little boy who was on top of me and who was penetrating my pussy was giving me the workout that I'd been yearning for, for so long.
Roger moved his penis back and forth inside me while his brother worked on his own penis with the same pace. I kept up those little slaps on Roger's ass and they seemed to please everyone. I liked them and they made me orgasm. It thrilled Mike to see it and it obviously titillated Roger. How do I know? Roger's penis was puffing up like a balloon. It wouldn't take long before it unloaded.
I orgasmed all over Roger's young rod and built my way up for a long sustained blast when his penis was at its full length and potential.
"Now," I moaned to the boy as I wriggled with him on top of his mother's bed. "Come now. Please Roger! Come now when I do!"
Roger's prick seemed to freeze at full erection. He withheld his come from me while my own pussy went berserk. I felt something spattering against my side and my neck. It was Mike's young rod, spitting forth the youngest seeds I'd ever received. I orgasmed vigorously knowing that young Mike had come from watching me. Then I felt Roger's penis erupt with its inevitable flourish of come.
My orgasm was almost over when Roger's cock exploded with its long hard rushes of hot satisfying come. My orgasm, on the tail end of its thrust, began anew when it felt the pussy being inundated with warm cream.
"Oh, Roger, yes!" I moaned as his penis spasmed its hot load down into me. "Oh, yes, definitely!"
The penis shot forth several hard gushes of come and I thrust my pussy forward to catch each one of them as they burst forward from that long hard shaft of that thirteen-year-old boy. It seemed like he'd never stop coming. Yet when his cock did finally dribble to a finish, the whole thing was over much too soon to suit me....
...Mrs. T. concluded her story at that point and allowed me to question her in the few minutes which remained in that interview session. Before going too far, however, I asked her if she would schedule another appointment with Miss Johnson before leaving my office. I already knew that Mrs. T. had more to tell me than I could possibly draw out of her in a single meeting.
"Tell me, Mrs. T., " I then said to. my subject in the remaining moments of her first interview session, "was this incident the first time you noticed a sexual fixation with male buttocks."
"I think so," she said in reply." My husband used to have a nice ass before he put on weight and let it get all flabby. But I never really had the overriding curiosity about asses as I suddenly had with this experience with Roger. It was as if something snapped inside my head when I felt and heard the palm of my hand slapping against his bare little buttock cheeks."
"Right after this odd 'snapping' in your mind," I asked, "you had sex with the older of the two boys. You described the act as very satisfying. Just how satisfying was it?"
"'very," she said. "But in an odd way. It was one of those delicious fucks where a woman is completely worn out by the male. Yet the act was so good that it made me hungry for more sex soon again."
"Did you manage it with the boys again?" I asked.
"I did," she said. "I screwed with young Roger twice more. That just shows you how satisfying that boy was. I wanted him again even though he got me into a lot of trouble with his parents."
"Did they find out about the sex between you and their sons?" I asked.
"No, it wasn't that," she explained. "Those boys were very clever. Not only did they use my body to have their little orgasms, but they also used me to cover up all those things they broke in their parents' bedroom."
"How?" I asked.
"Roger told me that if I knew what was good for me I'd tell their parents that it was I who broke the window and the lamps. 'Nonsense, Roger,' I said to him. 'We'll have to tell your parents the truth.'"
"And what did he say?"
"He said that if I told the truth about that he'd tell the truth about me having sex with the boys. 'Your parents would never believe that,' I countered boldly. 'All you'd do is brand yourself as a liar, Roger.' "
"And what did he say to that?"
"He told me that all he had to do was to describe the little mole which ifl on the left cheek of my ass and describe the little red birthmark which is just inside my right thigh. Well, I turned white when he mentioned those things. I knew he had me."
"So you confessed to doing all that damage yourself?" I asked Mrs. T.
"That's right," she said. "I made up a story and told them a big fat lie even while the semen was still swimming around in my pussy."
"One final question, Mrs. T., " I then said. "You stated that a deep fascination with male buttocks began with this sexual incident. How prominently do buttocks become in future incidents with youngsters?"
"'very," she said in a frank tone of voice. "Slapping around at the buttocks is an integral form of foreplay with me."
"Do the young boys understand?" I asked.
"I think so," she said. "Most of them get very hard when I slap their little tails. I think they understand that a few good brisk slaps across the ass is a good turn-on for both of us."
"Would you describe one of these buttock-oriented arrangements at our next meeting?" I asked.
"I'd be happy to," she said. "I'll tell you about my favorite ass-oriented fucking session if you really want to hear about it."
"I do, Mrs. T., " I said. "I most certainly do.
Miss Johnson re-scheduled Mrs. T. for a second interview, and in the few moments that I had between patients, I made a few brief notes about the case of Mrs. T.
I do no want to go into my detailed analysis of her case at this time. Instead, I'd rather save my conclusions until the reader has had a chance to study the bizarre tale she told in her second interview. I would, however, like to make one point clear to the reader.
From Mrs. T.'s testimony it was clear that somehow the spanking she administered to little Roger's bare backside had kindled a new sexual fire within her. Often women who haven't had sex for a time will undergo this experience. Male buttocks are erotic, of course, and will arouse most women. But in this particular case, I sensed the potential of a serious fixation on the part of Mrs. T. I think her second interview proved that my initial observation was correct. ii
"I'd like to tell you about my experience in fucking little Denny Roberts," Mrs. T. said to me on her return to my office. "Without any question he's the best little cocksman who has ever penetrated my comfortable little bush."
"Where did you meet the boy?" I asked Mrs. T.
"Oddly enough," she said, "I met him at a newsstand. That's what started everything."
"Could you give me a few more details about the meeting?" I asked.
"It was no big deal, doctor. I happened to go into a newsstand in my town to get the afternoon newspaper. Well, there was a magazine stand near the soda fountain. Little Denny was standing there thumbing through some magazines."
"And...?" I pressed.
"Well, he looked like a handsome young boy. I could only see him from behind and I could tell that he had a nice ass. His buttocks were firm like I like them and had a nice curve to them. So after I paid for my newspaper I wandered over to the magazine stand to see what he was thumbing through."
"Actually you wanted to get a better look at him," I suggested to Mrs. T. "Isn't that actually the case?"
She smiled. "I guess you're right, doctor," she said. "He was wearing a little pair of shorts and his legs looked so strong and cute. I figured he was in his early teens."
"What happened next?" I inquired.
Mrs. T. told me this story....
...When I went over to see what he was reading I thought I'd discover that he was looking at some sports magazine. But no. He was at that age where sports become a boy's number two interest. The number one interest, far and away, is the female pussy.
Little Denny was staring at some girlie magazine. I could see pictures of two girls on two different pages. One on the pictures showed the girl's bare ass very clearly. The other page had a frontal view of the same girl. I could see the big black triangle between her legs and I could see the evident interest with which Denny was looking at her bush.
"Shameful," I said to the boy. "What's nice clean boy like you looking at pictures like that for?"
He was very surprised to have anyone say anything to him. He fumbled with the magazine and answered me very defensively.
"Cut it out, lady," he said back to me. "I'm old enough to look at bare pussies if I want to."
"Of course you are," I said teasingly. "That's why I think it's so shameful that you have to look at pictures of bare pussies."
"Huh?" he asked.
"How old are you, young man?" I asked.
"Thirteen ... and a half?" he said proudly.
"Why I thought you were much older!" I said to him, trying to inflate his ego and his prick at the same time. "I thought you might be closer to eighteen or twenty!"
"Really?" he asked with a big smile.
"Oh, yes," I said softly. "Obviously, you're very big for your age. And I guess if you were shown a real bare pussy you'd know what to do with it."
"Do with it?" he repeated excitedly.
"Why, yes," I said. "If I thought you'd know exactly how to service and satisfy a real bare pussy, I could be persuaded to take you to it."
He tried to stand up as tall as possible. He stuffed the magazine back on the rack like a real man and looked me squarely in the eye.
"I fuck 'em all the time," the boy said to me. "You just lead me to it and I'll perform on it."
"Well...." I said, drawing the word out and trying to make him all the more anxious.
"Please, lady?" he begged.
"Why don't you come out to my car," I said. "There are two things I need to know about you that I can't ask you about right here."
Denny and I walked out to my car which fortunately had been parked in a deserted section of the parking lot. I got into the driver's seat and Denny climbed into the seat next to me.
"What did you want to ask me?" the boy asked. I looked around to make sure that no one could see what we were about to do.
"I want to see what your penis looks like," I said. "Show it to me."
"Here?" he gulped.
"Do you know of a better place?" I asked. "But-?"
"Do what I say, young man," I said as I sat watching him. "Take down those shorts. Otherwise you won't be getting a free ride off to see the bare pussies."
He obeyed, but he obeyed slowly. He took down his zipper and unbuckled the belt at the waist of those shorts. Then he pulled down those shorts and his underpants, too.
As his pants came down I could see a hairy little crotch with an admirable enough penis sticking out of it. His rod was limp when the pants came down. But when I learned across the seat and took the limp rod in my hands, the organ sprang very quickly to life.
His rod stiffened up. I could see the head of it began to swell into a huge throbbing knob. I ran my fingers up and down the shaft. I decided that yes, his penis would most certainly please me.
"Now the ass," I said.
"The ass?" he questioned.
"You heard me," I said. "Who ever heard of picking up a male without making a thorough inspection of his most important areas?"
"But-?"
"If you're not interested in showing me your ass and getting yourself laid, just don't show it to me. Instead you can get out of the car and go back to jiggling your whang over pictures in magazines."
He got the hint. He turned over in the seat and showed me his two white buttocks. Becoming inspired, I reached over and felt them, cupping the palm of my hand under each of those bare round buttocks.
"What are you doing?" he asked me as he felt my hand moving around back there.
"Just checking the equipment," I said. "Shut up and keep still."
I moved my hand all over his ass while I kept looking around the parking lot to make sure no one was watching. Then I let my cupped palm wander a little further until it went under his ass and cupped itself right up under his hairy dangling nuts.
"Feel good?" I asked.
"Uhhuh," he moaned, giving me an affirmative answer. I rubbed his balls from the underside until I could feel the penis stiffen to its maximum erection over those balls. He liked what he felt and I liked what I felt. It was a perfect deal. I would let the boy fuck me.
"That's enough," I said as I looked at the little brown hole between those twin white buttocks of his. "Pull up those shorts and let's get out of here."
He obeyed. He pulled those shorts up and I stuffed the key into the car ignition, just as I hoped that the boy would soon be stuffing his own key into me.
We only had to drive a few miles to my house. Fortunately it was early enough in the day so that not many of the neighbors were home. I wouldn't have wanted them to see me bringing that sexy little boy into my house. They would have gotten the wrong idea ... or the right idea, depending on what you want to call it.
During our ride to my house he told me that his name was Denny. By the time we got to the house I was asking him about his girl friends at school.
"Now, Denny," I said to him as we passed through the front door of my house, "back there in the magazine store you told me that you'd done lot of fucking. Was that just a bullshit line to impress me? Or is it true?"
The boy's face became slightly flushed at the cheeks.
"I must know the truth, Denny," I chided. "I want to be an intimate friend of yours so you must tell me the whole truth."
"I've had a few girls in school make me come by rubbing up against me," he said. "But I've never been inside any of their pussies."
"You rubbed against them?" I asked curiously. "Will you tell me about that?"
I sat down in a big easy chair. Denny tried to sit down in a different seat across the room. But I wouldn't let him. "It's a very big room," I said to him. "We should sit very close. You should be on my lap."
"But-?"
"Do what I say, Denny," I said. "And answer my questions. Are you going to tell me how they rub up against you?"
"I guess," he said as he came over to me. "Where's the naked pussy you promised?"
"You'll see it in just a few minutes," I promised him. "But you have to answer my questions first."
Denny sat his little ass down on my lap. He was a big youngster and was almost my height even though he hadn't even seen his fourteenth birthday yet. As his ass sat in my lap I looked at how his bare young legs jutted out of his shorts. As he sat in my lap and began to tell, I wrapped one arm around his hips and let my other hand fall right midway between his knee and his penis.
"I don't even know if they knew if I was coming," he said to me as he began to explain about that rubbing."
"How did you do it then?" I asked. "Obviously your penis isn't bare if they didn't even know whether you were ejaculating or not."
"My clothes are always on," he said. "What happens is we go out for a date and then end up making out later. Then I lock them up in a firm embrace and start pushing my rod against them when our bodies are very close."
"And you rub until you come," I said, concluding his sentence for him.
"That's right," he said. "I squirt off in my pants. Mom can't understand why I always have so many stains in my underpants, but the come feels very good when I have it."
"All comes feel good," I reminded him. "You're going to have an excellent come in just a few minutes right in this house."
"Yeah?" he asked. I looked to his crotch and saw that it was starting to bulge from underneath.
"I guess you rub up against these young girls when your rod is good and hard," I said. He nodded.
"like right now," I suggested. "I'll bet that your rod is hard enough now to rub up against a woman."
He blushed again slightly. But he agreed. "It is," he said.
I moved my hand to his rod and pressed on it from outside of his shorts. He moaned and I ran my fingers up and down his cock from the outside. I could feel his ass on my lap and that was thoroughly juicing my poor pussy, too.
"Did you ever ask your little girl friends if you could put your penis inside them?" I asked the boy.
"I ask them all the time," he said. "But it doesn't help much. None of them want to be deflowered until they're older: maybe fifteen or sixteen."
"That's why older women can be so much nicer, Denny," I said to the boy. "Old women don't worry about silly things like their hymens. Do you know why they don't worry about their hymens?"
"Because they don't have hymens anymore," he replied triumphantly.
"That's right," I said, increasing my downward and forward strokes on his rod.
"What about the pussy I'm going to fuck," he then said. "Is there a hymen in that one?"
"Oh, no, Denny," I laughed. "There hasn't been a hymen down there for almost seventeen years."
"Wow!" he exclaimed. "That's longer than I've been around."
"Yes, Denny," I said, "but don't ever scoff at the older more mature pussies. They're the ones who know best how to satisfy men."
"Wow!" he yelped again. "My cock is so hard that it's starting to hurt."
"That means just one thing, Denny," I said.
"That means that your long hard penis should be given a special treatment which will make it feel better."
"Treatment?"
"It has to be inserted into an area which will be warm and moist and soft, an area which will treat the penis kindly and massage it back and forth with warm moist folds."
"You're going to make me come!" he exclaimed. I loved to watch young boys getting so excited. They put all the thrill into fucking that my husband had taken out.
"That's right, Denny," I said. "I certainly am. Take down your shorts and I'll show you the pussy your penis is going to service."
The boy hopped up to his feet He pulled his little shirt up over his head and off. He dropped it to the floor. Then he unbuckled his shorts and let them slide down his legs and off. He stepped out of them as I admired the bulge beneath his underpants. Then he lowered those underpants and out came the rod.
His rod was even more desirable now than I had thought it would be. I was hornier now, of course, which meant that any penis would have been good. But there was something about the fresh and unused penis of a boy of thirteen that really juiced my box.
"Where's the pussy?" he asked as he stood there naked in front of me with his great big whang sticking straight out forward.
I stood up. I reached to my shirt and unbuttoned the front of it, letting it open so that he could see my great big breasts.
"Yours?" he asked excitedly. "Do I get to see your bush?"
"You get to see all of me," I told him. "And most men think it's something of a real treat."
His hard penis gave a little wag as I took my shirt off and let him see me completely topless. But then I took down my skirt and stood there in nothing but my bikini panties. Then I hooked both thumbs into the waistband of those panties and I gradually began to draw them down.
"Oh, shit," the boy squealed. "A real live cunt!"
"Not just a real live cunt," I said to him as my pussy became slowly visible to the thirteen-year-old. "But a nice comfortable one for a young man like you to have his first real ejaculation into. You have no idea how much better your ejaculation will feel while it's inside the warm recesses of a wet vagina."
Down came the panties to my ankles. I was completely nude. I felt like just pushing the boy down on the floor and sitting down on his rod. But before I could do that I was again overwhelmed by my fixation. I wanted to see and toy with that boy's buttocks. I had to have that kind of foreplay or my orgasms just wouldn't be right.
Yes, the buttocks were something that I had to have contact with. So I took the boy by the hand and led him to a great big fur rug in the den of my house. Then I pulled him down, hard penis and all, onto that fur rug with me. The first thing I did was lie side by side with him and kiss him on his moist young lips.
"This will be just like making out," I said to him. "Except you're not allowed to waste your semen by rubbing against me. And second, after making out you'll be able to attain yourself in the only proper way for a man to attain himself.
Our lips met. Our mouths open and my tongue explored his tongue and the insides of his lips. Even though we were lying far apart the tip of his penis was touching the top of my pussy hairs.
"Can ... can I touch your boobs?" he asked me with a boyish panting voice.
"Don't your girl friends let you touch their nipples?" I asked him.
He shook his head.
"You mean you've never touched bare breasts before and you're almost fourteen years old?"
He shook his head again. No, he hadn't ever touched bare boobs. Mine would be the first.
"You go right ahead and touch them all you want, Denny," I said to that excited young boy. "Hold them firm and really give them a milking if you want. I think your girl friends are being stubborn with you."
"I think so, too," he agreed as his little palms pressed against my hard big dark nipples.
"Those girls are being tighter than turtle pussy with you," I advised him. "I'd shit all over them if I were you. A boy with a handsome instrument like yours doesn't have to put up with shit like that."
"I guess I need a new girl friend," he confessed.
I looked down to that handsome young rod of his and I admired his virgin balls. Then I brought my hands down to around his hips and slid them along the curve of his hips until each palm clutched one of those handsome buttock cheeks of his.
"Denny," I moaned as I felt that fine hard muscular young ass of his, "you've already got a new girl friend. She's a lovely young naked woman of thirty-eight."
He cooed a little bit and I managed to draw one hand away from his ass just long enough to rub the tender tip of my finger across the nozzle of his penis to pick up moisture and then across that sensitive little area right under the head of his rod. He didn't coo when I did that to him. He gave me a long satisfied moan.
But then I became absolutely set on my buttock fixation. I moved that one hand back to his buttocks and then started to hold his buttocks so that the cheeks were spread apart. I wriggled my fingers between his cheeks and I started to toy with the boy's little brown back door.
I could feel that he was trying to tighten the cheeks of his ass so that my probing fingers couldn't get into his back door. But no one keeps out a woman as persistent as I am. I kept wriggling my fingers into his crack. Finally my index finger of the right hand drifted right into his rectum. I poked it in. He moaned as he was penetrated.
"I'll bet you thought that only the women gets penetrated," I said to him. "That's not true. It's just one of the many myths you hear about the female of the species."
He moaned again. I rotated my finger in a circular motion around his ass. It was penetrating a good four inches in now and Denny was enjoying it. I grabbed tightly to his buttocks as I twisted that finger. And yet, as I watched the boy's reaction and as I watched his smiling face as I twisted that finger, I began to get insanely jealous. I had an ass and a rosy red rectum, too. Why wasn't I being toyed with in the same way?
"I will be toyed with that way!" I swore to myself. "And Denny will do the toying."
But first things first. I played with his ass and his rectum until my wrists began to get tired. I instructed him to put his hand on my pussy and toy with me in a similar way. He did. But my vagina was already hot and wet. I needed the penis in there. Then we could tend to my rosy red back door a little later.
I rolled over onto my stomach and I began to get to my hands and knees. "It's time," I told him.
"Time?"
"Time for you to become a man," I said to the thirteen-year-old. "Time for you to jab that throbbing tool into the slot it fits in."
"Aren't you going to lie on your back?" he asked.
"We're going to do it the way dogs, cats and horses do it," I said to him. "I want it done that way because I want to feel flesh pressing to my ass cheeks. Any objections?"
"None," he said. "But I don't know how to-"
"Just get up there!" I demanded. "Everything fits where it should."
Denny's young hands planted themselves firmly on my trim bare hips. I could feel the head of his long hard stick as it bumped against my buttocks in two or three spots. Then he steadied himself.
"Do you see my ass-hole?" I asked as I held my legs apart but remained down on all fours. I had my ass in the air very conveniently for him. He had a clear shot at my vagina from the underneath backside route. He couldn't miss this shot.
"Aim underneath it," I said. "Aim four inches underneath it and you can't miss."
He slowly brought his penis between my legs from the underneath side. I could feel that long shaft slip by the skin of my buttocks and my inner thighs. But then I could feel the head of it slipping by the outer lips of my vagina. It was a moment that would thrill any woman.
"Oh, Denny," I moaned as the head of that penis pushed two inches into me from that doggie style, backside fuck position. "Tell me again. Has it ever been in another girl?"
"You're the first," he said. "No one else has ever even seen it bare."
"Oh, you little doll," I squealed as it lunged another two, three, four inches into me. "Oh, it's so good. The penis was pure until this very second."
"You're the first," the boy said again. And then he thrust his loins forward with a final thrust that shoved that long rod of his as far in as any man's shaft could go.
"Now stroke," I pleaded. "Stroke as hard and fast as you can!"
The boy started to move that long tool of his back and forth. His young hands held my hips as the penis sloshed back and forth. I muffled my face down in that fur rug as he pronged me from the backside. His virgin penis was slipping in and out now as if it were a greased eel popping in and out of there. I was so excited that within a few more seconds and a few more good hard strokes I was starting to orgasm.
That rod of his never stopped. It sent me off into the land of orgasms and it just kept pumping until I was almost shrieking with delight. Over and over he pronged me with that long rod of his. And then suddenly I was aware that he was going to ejaculate. His cock was pressing farther in than ever. I knew there had to be an ejaculation brewing.
I slammed my buttocks backward at that rod of his and I felt his young balls swinging madly as his prong sailed in and out of me. His penis was pressing way down into me. Now it was jabbing in farther than ever. Each time he thrust forward with it I started to utter a loud hard shriek of joy. He was making me orgasm so hard that I was wailing for joy each time he pumped forward. He kept it up for several long strokes. Then he came.
I felt his penis spasm, spit and gush its hot load straight forward into my slot. I howled with the delights of orgasm as I felt all that hot come shoot way down into me.
"Oh, Denny, yes!" I howled. "Squirt me as much as you can!" I felt five hard shots of come squirt into me. Then two more hard ones. A couple of more shots came out of his prick with declining force. But then I ground my ass backwards at his rod and I must have caught the boy's sperm supply by surprise.
As I ground my ass back that way his penis came alive for three last hard shots, shots so intense that they shot out of him so crisply that he squealed. Then his prick dribbled its final few drops into me as his hands began to relase my hips. Finally I let myself glide forward, pulling my vagina away from his whang and giving out with a huge vaginal fart which grossed the boy out for a few seconds.
I lay there on that rug, too fucked to move. I was panting for my breath as the boy lay down beside me and began, in the final bliss of his own orgasm, to nibble gently on my right nipple.
We panted for our collective breath and I patted him on his young firm buttocks. I wasn't through with him yet for that day. But for the moment I was content to lie there with a satisfied pussy and sperm oozing from my vaginal lips....
...Mrs. T.'s story was nearing conclusion so I asked her a few final questions which would bring the story to completion. I felt that I had heard enough to give Mrs. T. a sound analysis of her case. I didn't want her story to run so long that a third appointment would be necessary.
"You say you weren't through with him for the day, Mrs. T., " I said to her. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that I wanted some more cock off this young fucker," she said to me. "But this time I wanted it a way that I'd never gotten it before. Up the rosy red rectum."
"I recall that you mentioned that one boy had had anal sex with you, Mrs. T., " I said, thinking back to our first interview. "Was this he?"
"It sure was," she said.
"Wasn't it rather radical to introduce a boy to anal sex on his first sexual encounter?" I asked.
"Look, doctor," Mrs. T. said rather defensively, "if you're trying to make me feel bad about it, give up. A lot of boys get buggered by perverts and that's their introduction to anal sex. I was kind to Denny and he enjoyed it. We did it comfortably on a nice fur rug. What more could a kid want? In one day he knew more than a lot of full grown men know."
"Thank you, Mrs. T., " I said to her. "That will be all."
I moved immediately into a discussion of Mrs. T.'s case. She listened intently during my consultation-analysis and she asked intelligent questions throughout. By the time we finished she had acquired a much stronger knowledge of what she wanted sexually and why she wanted it.
I explained that (as I suspected after the initial interview) Mrs. T. had developed a very serious buttock fixation. The fixation, however, was limited to young boys since it was from one such young boy that the fixation had been acquired.
She asked me if such a sexual fixation was a serious problem. I answered that in her case it was not. It was common and it would probably run its course.
The fixation, I explained, was similar to fixations often encountered by women who are divorced and suddenly not having sex as often as they previously had. Such fixations can take many forms. But almost always they are a psychological way of a woman breaking free from the sexual habits she had while married.
Why was Mrs. T. so intrigued with young boys? That question appears to be rather elementary. Mrs. T., recently divorced, wanted to return to the innocence of her girlhood and try to forget the sexual unhappiness which was apparent within her marriage. Such an interest in children is common among divorcees these days. Increasingly common, I might add, since a desire to return to the "days of innocence" is so common a human wish. Young boys always appear to be an innocent new sexual "thing to do" after a marriage has failed.
Yet, the desire to bed young boys is hardly a phenomenon found solely among divorcees. Married women are doing it as we've already seen. But then, too, there are cases such as the following one.
In some cases, as the reader will soon discover, the seduction of a young boy is the result of a fierce mother-daughter rivalry. The case of Janette H. follows. Janette H. is a real and only one woman. Yet her case is similar to the experiences of hundreds of thousands of American wives and mothers. Some married women, it seems, cannot stand to have their daughters possess something that the mothers can't have ... such as a teenage boyfriend.
CASE HISTORY FOUR
"I don't think I ever would have thought of doing it if I hadn't caught my daughter screwing with Joel," Mrs. Janette H. told me after Miss Johnson had introduced me to her and led her into my inner office.
"Doing what?" I asked, trying to lure Mrs. H. quickly to the specifics of her case.
"Stealing my daughter's boyfriend," she said. "But when I caught my fifteen-year-old daughter balling on the back lawn with her fifteen-year-old boyfriend, well, frankly I was jealous."
"Jealous?" I asked. "In what way?"
"Here my daughter was getting her pussy fucked at the age of fifteen," complained Mrs. H. "When I was fifteen I wasn't that lucky. I had my virginity right up until I was fucked on my honeymoon night at the age of twenty-one."
"Is your husband the only man you've slept with?" I asked. "Besides whatever young boys you've seduced?"
"No," she confessed with a slight sigh. "There have been two other men, too. One man was a neighbor of ours who swapped partners with us one weekend. You know how it works, doctor. I screwed with him and his wife balled with my husband."
"And the other man?" I asked.
"Just a casual friend," said Mrs. H. "We screwed five or six times about a year ago. Then we got bored with each other. My husband never found out."
"But now you're interested in young boys?" I asked.
"Not just young boys in general," she explained, "the ones I want are the ones my daughter dates. Better yet, I want the ones she screws with. I want to show those boys that Rita's bosomy old mom can toss a meaner fuck than young Rita can."
Mrs. H. was thirty-seven years of age. She was blond and an attractive woman. When she initially came to my office she was wearing a very short skirt which few women of Mrs. H.'s age would be able to wear and look good in.
Her face was free from any wrinkles or signs of age and her breasts, which were prominent beneath a tightly fitting .yellow blouse, were apparently firm and youthfully uplifted. As I began to listen to Mrs. H.'s story I became conscious of the fact that she was very much a young looking woman. I wondered if the reason she seemed to desire competition with her daughter was due purely to a pride in her own physicality or whether the reason could be found in deeper motives.
"How many of your daughter's boyfriends have you managed to seduce?" I asked Mrs. H.
"Five," she said with a smile. "But one of them presented me with a very ironic situation."
"What was that?" I asked.
"The reason I was seducing them," she explained, "was to prove that I, at my age could give them just as good a fuck as a teenager like my daughter could."
"You've already mentioned that," I said.
"Yes," she said. "But it backfired with one boy, a kid named Neil. It turned out that Neil had gone out with my daughter Rita a few times but had never slept with her."
"Was there a reason that you know of?" I asked.
"She just didn't like the boy," Mrs. H. explained. "She got rid of him before he could get her into the sack. She just didn't like him and didn't want to get screwed by him."
"But you did?"
"That's right," said Mrs. H. with a sly smile. "I put out for him and gave him an absolutely thrilling ride up and down on my nude trim body. Then after screwing we got talking. He told me that he was stunned by my wanting to go to bed with him since he had never even been able to get my daughter to take her bra off."
"Were you sorry you'd slept with the boy?" I asked.
"Not at all," said Mrs. H. "He was a good young cocksman. I figure I'm a few extra points up on Rita because I balled with a boy that she missed out on. There was nothing wrong with him, either. He was sixteen-years-old and hung like a young ape."
I paused and made a few notes to myself as I listened to Mrs. H's words. Then I sought to move the conversation back to a more convenient starting point.
"Mrs. H., " I said, "it would appear that this whole series of seductions began when you first caught your daughter having sex. Is that correct?"
"That's what I told you," she said.
"In that case I'd like to examine that original incident in detail," I said. "I'd like to hear about what you saw, what you were thinking about while you watched, and how you went about seducing a boy who was already sleeping with your daughter."
"That's a tall order," said the attractive woman as she looked back to me with a smile. "But I think I can handle it." She then gave me this account....
...I really wasn't very surprised to catch my daughter fucking. Frankly, I figured that it would happen sooner or later. What bothered me about it was that she was growing up and becoming a woman just a little too fast for my own comfort. I still considered myself an attractive young woman. It pained me to be shown up by my daughter.
What do I mean by "shown up"? I mean made to look old. Most men who see me on the street whistle at me and make kissing noises. They think I'm a twenty-year-old. Well, I like passing for a twenty-year-old. But if I've got a sexually active fifteen-year-old daughter around I guess it's pretty obvious that I'm older than twenty.
Maybe I'm making more out of it than it's worth, doctor, but when my daughter started to screw it made me feel old. That's why I set out to prove that anything she could do I could do better.
On the night when it all began Rita went out on a date with a boy named Joel. Joel was fifteen-years-old and a pretty good looking young boy. He was still very boyish and had a real baby face. But his body was strong and rippled with muscles. During the previous summer I'd seen Joel on the beach with just a brief little pair of swim trunks on. His young cock had been packed tightly into those trunks and my own body had had fantasies about what it would be like to be taken physically by a muscular youth like Joel.
Well, Joel came and picked up Rita at seven o'clock that evening. By ten o'clock I was tired and was sitting in the bedroom of the house. My husband had already gone to bed and was asleep. He'd had a tough day at the office and he didn't want to screw that night.
But as I took off my clothes and stood nude in that dark bedroom, I heard a noise. I went to the window. There was definitely a low moaning coming from outside the house somewhere.
I thought of waking my husband and sending him down to investigate. But I decided I wouldn't disturb him. Our neighborhood was a very safe one and I figured that whatever it was I could probably handle it myself.
I went downstairs and was going to go right out the back door to investigate. But I decided against that, too. If I had gone out the back door whatever or whoever was moaning out there would see me coming before I saw it.
"Be smart," I told myself. "Go out the front door and catch what's going on before you're noticed."
So out the front door I went. I circled the house and soon heard the moaning. I walked very quietly and I stayed in the shadows.
Then I saw what had attracted me. Right there on the grass behind our house I saw two naked bodies.
"My God! It's a couple of people fucking!" I thought to myself. I looked carefully to see as much as I could. I tried to figure out exactly what position the bodies were in. As my eyes grew accustomed to the darkness I was able to see more and more.
"They're not fucking," I then realized. "They're only getting ready to fuck."
I perhaps should have taken a run at them and scared both of those strangers away. But I didn't. I was too fascinated with what I was seeing.
I had thought that it was the girl who was lying back on the ground. But it wasn't. As I looked at them I realized that the male was naked and lying with his back down on the wet grass. His penis was erect and pointing up toward the stars. And the girl was squatting down between the knees of his spread apart legs. As she leaned forward she had cupped her hands around his nuts and was moving her wet lips slowly up and down upon the long shaft at his crotch.
I stared at them. It seemed so beautiful for that pretty young female body to be bent over her male admirer servicing his penis between her lips. I could only see the contours of her body. Her breasts were full and I could just barely see the uplifted nipples on her bare young breasts. The boy's penis appeared to be good sized, although I couldn't see it that well since she was hiding it with the hair that hung down from her head.
"Simply beautiful," I thought to myself. And although it was making my own pussy tingle I decided that I wouldn't distract the lovers. I'd just stay there and watch that most beautiful of nature's acts.
But then it happened. I heard their voices.
"Oh, Rita, suck me harder!" I heard the boy's voice moan. It had been he who had been moaning before, his moans coming from the wonderful feeling he had from those warm lips on his long stiff rod.
But Rita? My god! I suddenly realized that that was my very own daughter back there.
"If I suck any harder, Joel," I heard her say, "you'll come in my mouth."
"What's wrong with that?" he moaned again. "Won't you do that for me?"
"I want the sperm in my vagina," she said back. "Nowhere else. Just the vagina."
Suddenly it wasn't very beautiful any more. That was my own innocent little girl doing a filthy, lewd and perverted thing to that boy. And worse, that boy wanted to have his ejaculation in her mouth, totally ignoring the vagina, the woman's source of all pleasure.
I watched them still but now I was mad. I disliked the idea that my own innocent little daughter was doing a screw for some young kid. I was jealous perhaps of her having a virile young lover like Joel, with that muscular chest and those big fat balls which had been tucked into his bathing suit like a couple of coconuts.
He sat up and she sat down on the ground next to him. He leaned to his side and I watched in the moonlight as he pushed his face to one and then the other of her two bare tits. I imagined how good it must have felt for her to have a virile fifteen-year-old pushing his lips to her bare turned-on nipples. My pussy shuddered at the thought of such a delicious feeling. And damn it, I knew I was getting mad because my daughter had something that I wanted for myself.
I could see them very clearly now. As the boy licked and nipped at my daughter's boobs she was continuing to play with his penis with both her hands. And in turn, he had one arm around her while the other hand was down between her legs. His fingers were playing in that little hairy garden between her legs. My clitoris smarted just from thinking how my daughter's clitoris must have felt
"Oh, Joel," I heard her say to her male admirer. "That's my clit."
"Of course it is," he said to her in return. "I wouldn't fuck you without saying hello to your clit first."
"Oh, Joel. It feels so good."
"You just wait till my long stinger gets in there," he said. "Then you'll really know what feels good!"
"Oh, Joel! It's fantastic!" she yelped. I figured that he must have been not only playing with her clit, but also was moving a finger back and forth in her vagina. I was right.
"Oh, Joel," she moaned next. "Which finger is that?"
"The thumb," he moaned. "It's the thumb that's in there."
"Oh, shit!" she yelped. "It feels so frigging good!"
"I have to show you one more thing," he then said to her after a slight pause. "What?" she gasped.
"Have you ever had your clit sucked on?" he asked.
"Oh, Joel! No! Please! Can you?"
I watched my daughter quickly recline with her ass on the cool moist ground and her legs spread wide apart. The boy lay down there between her legs, pushing his face into that delicate young muff of hers. Then I heard my daughter start to utter long low gasps which sounded almost as if the sucking she was getting was already giving her orgasms.
"Joel! Shit! Joel! Balls!" she moaned. "Oh, my cunt! My clit! My cunt!"
I could hardly stand to watch them much more. The boy was enjoying her body so much and visa versa. I could hear his lips sucking on that little button of hers. I was horny enough to go sit on one of the posts of the fence that surrounded our house. But I didn't Despite the burning feeling in my clit I stayed and watched.
As she held her legs apart the boy climbed up on top of her. In the moonlight I could see that long utensil at his crotch. I stared at it as he pushed it into her. Then I stood my ground and watched further as the penis slipped way into her and as Joel started to move his loins back and forth into Rita's crotch.
She moved up her legs and wrapped them around the boy's waist.
"Oh, Joel," I heard her moan. "You're so long. So gloriously long and hard!"
He pumped back and forth and only grunted in reply to her question. Her ass wriggled underneath him and she thrust her pussy up and back and he slammed that cock of his in and out of her.
"Oh, cunt!" she yelped again as his penis pushed her into that region known as orgasmic frenzy. "Cock! Shit! Cunt! Balls!"
Joel stroked hard for several long minutes, holding his erection inside my daughter much longer than my husband ever bothers to hold his anymore. The time was when my husband could hold it in my vagina for half an hour. Now he just pumps and comes in a few minutes.
So on still another count I was jealous of my daughter. The man who fucked her was young and potent. He held his cock hard longer than my man could.
I watched until both of them were wriggling frantically and uttering piercing squeals of pleasure. They were ending their open air fun with two big simultaneous orgasms, his dick squirting its juice out while my daughter's pussy was ripped apart with orgasm. Then they lay together for a few seconds before he pulled it out of her.
"Fabulous," she muttered to him. "Absolutely tremendous."
He grunted his thanks. That's when I tiptoed away.
I went back up to the bedroom and was just about to crawl into bed to try to forget that I'd seen. I'm a normal woman, doctor. Watching those people fucking had made me hornier than a rhinoceros. I hated to go to bed having to stifle myself but that's exactly what I had to do. Yet, I couldn't resist taking a peek out the window to see if I could catch one final glimpse of my daughter and Joel.
I looked out. That lucky daughter of mine! Joel was eating her out now. His face was pressed firmly into her wide open pussy and I could almost feel his tongue lapping deep down into her.
"That did it," I cursed to myself. "Tomorrow Joel gets a different woman ... an older more mature one."
How did I do it, doctor? How did I seduce Joel? It was easy. Most boys of fifteen think of themselves as real potent little cocksmen. They'll fuck just about anything that comes their way. They have no particular loyalty to any woman in particular. That's why Joel fell prey to me so easily.
Actually, doctor, I took advantage of a little physical characteristic of mine in order to seduce Joel. But it was so much fun that I think any woman who can pull this off should try it with her daughter's lover.
I keep my body in very good shape, doctor, and I've often been told that I look enough like my daughter to be her sister. I guess that's because I look so youthful. Well, I've often passed for a young girl, so I thought I'd really give it a try.
One day after school I got my daughter out of the house by giving her a little present. I gave her twenty dollars and told her that she should drive over to the department store in the neighboring town and buy herself a few new bikini panties. I knew she liked them because she always wore them. Why? Because it made her look sexy when she wore nothing but those bikini panties. But the important thing was that she would be out of the house for two hours or more. And that was all the time I needed.
I telephoned Joel's house. Not only did I look like my daughter but I could also sound like her on the telephone. That was all the extra help I needed.
"Joel?" I said over the telephone. "This is Rita."
"Hi, sugar!" he said, swallowing the bait nicely.
"That sure was nice what, you did to me last night in the backyard," I cooed to him softly.
"Yeah," he grunted. And he uttered a stupid laugh as he thought about it.
"Do you know how good it was for me?" I asked.
"How good?" he asked.
"So good that I want to do it again," I said. "Right now."
"Now?" he said. "It's daylight. Where could we go to-"
"Right over here," I said. "Right in my bedroom."
"What about your parents?" he asked.
"Dad's at work," I said. "And Mom ... mom is having an affair with a big six foot five inch black man over in Camden. She won't be back for another two hours."
"Well...." he said slowly, trying to think whether or not it would be wise to take up my offer.
"Think of my nice legs," I cooed to him. "Think of the calves and the knees. Then slowly think about the thighs. Work upward from there. Think about the little soft patch of skin right at the top of the legs."
"Rita!" he snapped. "This isn't fair."
"Now just move an inch or two above all that soft skin. Think about the hairy little bush between my legs. Now think what it feels like to have your penis immersed in that warm moist slot."
"Oh, Rita!" he gasped.
"Is your prick hard?" I asked.
"Hard as a concrete dildo," he said.
"Are you coming over?" I cooed. "Please, Joel, my pussy needs you so badly. And we can do it in a nice cozy warm bed in the house."
"Give me fifteen minutes," he said. "I'll be right over."
"I'm getting undressed right now," I said passionately. I could feel my own pussy tingling from the build-up I gave him. "I'll be upstairs nude in my bed. You just come in the house without knocking and come right up to my bedroom. My pussy will be waiting for you."
I could hear him panting on the other end of the phone. Then he hung up.
I tossed off my blouse and my skirt as I casually wandered up the stairs to my daughter's bedroom. In front of her wall mirror I pulled off my bra and stood there in only my panties.
I admired how nice and youthful my body still was. My breasts, I discovered as I shook them, still had a nice bounce to them as I moved nude across the room. Then I pulled down my panties. I ran my hands through my pussy hair and I admired my fluffy little box, the box that had satisfied my husband for so many years but which was now in direct competition with my very own daughter.
I tossed the panties to the side of the room and I went to my daughter's dresser. I splashed on some of her perfume so that I'd even smell like her. I dabbed some behind my ears and some between my big boobs. Then, in case the boy wanted to muff-dive, I dabbed some of it between my inner thighs, just below the navel and some right into my soft little bush triangle. Joel would never know what hit him until his pants were down and off.
It only took him ten minutes to get over to my house. That's how anxious he was to get that hard prick of his back into a woman's slot.
I heard him open the door downstairs and call out to me.
"Rita?" he yelled, still under the misconception about who he was coming over to fuck.
"Up here," I called back. "In my bed. Just as Hold you."
I knew that if he got a good look at my face he'd recognize me for Rita's mother. But that was a problem which was easily solved. I lay nude on Rita's bed, lying face down and with my face looking the other way.
He came up the stairs and then came into Rita's room. He saw my naked boy on that bed. My ass was curvy and bare for him to look at. He liked it.
"Wow, Rita!" he said as he slowly came into the room "I don't remember you having such a nice ass."
"What do you remember?" I asked him, still trying to sound like my daughter.
"The pussy," he said with a horny voice. "I remember how good the pussy felt and how good the pussy tasted."
"Well then," I said, "you better take off your clothes."
"Can't I give you a kiss first?"
"You have to take off your clothes first," I insisted to the boy.
"Why won't you turn over and look at me?" he asked, growing just a trifle suspicious.
"If you came here to ask a lot of silly questions," I said, "you can leave again. I can call up someone else to come over and screw me."
"I'm undressing, I'm undressing," he said quickly. "Don't get impatient!"
I listened as I heard him fool with his clothes. I heard the zipper of his fly go down and I heard his pants drop with the belt buckle hitting the floor. My pussy was juicing with desire. My whole plan had gone so well so far. I knew it couldn't fail now. I knew within minutes I'd have Rita's little backyard bailer firmly stuffed into my vagina.
A minute or so later I felt him climb onto the bed, knee first. Then I felt him place his hands on my ass.
"I don't believe it, Rita," he said. "I always thought your ass was flatter. But no. It's a damn fine ass."
"Kiss it, Joel," I said, "Will you kiss it if it's so nice?"
He pressed his lips down there and kissed both cheeks of my ass. I opened my legs as he fooled around with my ass. I wanted him to catch a whiff of my pussy from underneath. That way he'd catch my fine womanly scent mixed with Rita's perfume.
As my legs spread apart his mouth moved down more toward my anus. His lips were going toward my vagina as he sniffed down there at my scent. Slowly I began to roll over so that he could get at my pussy. Without letting him even look up, his tongue was trying to push into my vagina.
I rolled over completely and lay on my back with my legs wide apart. He was crouched between my legs now and his face was just about to press into my vagina. He started to look up at me. But I caught his head with my hands and I pushed his face gently back down to my pussy.
He took the message. He pushed his face right into my wet hairy slot and with one beautiful thrust, his tongue slipped between the lips of my vagina.
The tip of his tongue zeroed right in on the head of my tender little clitoris. The boy, a good boy at cunnilingus for a youth of fifteen, knew how to dart a tongue back and forth in the way that all women love. Back and forth his tongue went. He cupped his hands under my ass and held me as he licked. I let my own hands drop to my sides and I wriggled my hips and vaginal area back and forth as his tongue worked it over.
Then suddenly he looked up. I was looking down at his hard cock as he looked up. He looked me right in the eye and recognized me. His prick dropped from a full erection to a limp little noodle. The boy was terrified!
"Mrs. H-! " he howled. "I ... What ... I-?"
"Don't be alarmed," I said to him in a soft voice. "No one's going to hurt you."
"But I thought you were-"
"Rita?" I asked. He nodded and I smiled. "Yes," I said, "I guess I've played a little trick on you. But it was for the benefit of both of us."
"Benefit? How?"
"Lucky boy," I said. "You're going to get to make a comparison."
"A comparison?" he asked.
"You just get that cock of yours hard again and you'll be allowed to see who's better in the sack. Mother or daughter."
"But Mrs. H-, " he said. "I-"
"If you don't want to co-operate, Joel," I said, "I'll just call up your Daddy and tell him that you inseminated my daughter. Would you like me to do that?"
He shook his head. He looked hard at me. "Was that you who called me?" he asked.
"Yes it was," I said. "Now you concentrate on getting your prick stiff again. Your tongue was just beginning to make my pussy feel good."
The boy was white in the face, but as he looked up and down my body I could see his penis springing back to life.
"That's right," I said. "You just concentrate on what you see. I think we can be very intimate friends."
Joel began to smile. like any boy he knew when he was called upon to perform. He pushed his face back down into my wet bush and he started to lick again.
I could feel the boy's tongue reaching deeply between my pussy lips again. I was already juicing enough down there with enough liquid to float a battleship. But the more he licked the wetter I got. It was so exciting to be had by a fifteen-year-old boy. It was the most exciting sex I'd had in years.
"Push deep," I told him. "Hit me hard with that tongue. Get it way back in there!"
He pushed as far as he could as I continued to wriggle beneath his hard pressing mouth. I kept moaning just as he had moaned the night before when my daughter was tongue-teasing his rod. I panted and he kept thrusting that tongue of his into me. But it just wasn't reaching way back to where I wanted to feel it.
"It's not going far enough," I moaned. "You'll have to put something longer back there!"
"A rod?" he asked with a grin. He had gathered his courage nicely now. His cock was stiff as an icicle but much warmer. I reached down and held his penis between my fingers before he had completely moved up and mounted me.
"Who has nicer jugs?" I asked him proudly as I cupped my hands beneath my two big bare breasts. "Rita or her mother."
"I ... uh, don't tell Rita," he stammered. "But you do."
"If they're so nice," I continued, "you should give them some big kisses."
He pushed his face back up to my tits. He wrapped my right boob with both of his hands and he suckled it into his mouth as a baby would. His tongue was all over that breast and he even titillated the nipple by giving it a very sensual but gentle gnawing motion with his teeth.
I was ecstatic. That youngster was the best fucker I'd ever had so far. And his cock wasn't even in yet. I moaned as I lay back flat on the bed, pulling my breasts away from him. He looked at me questioningly.
"It's time," I said. "Time to hump!"
As I lay out flat, Rita's young boyfriend climbed onto my body just as he'd climbed onto Rita's a few hours earlier that previous night.
I held my legs wide apart to afford him a good open target. He scored a direct hit with his first shot, slipping his long hard shaft directly through the lips of my pussy with his first hard forward thrust.
The penis pushed deep into me and he started to push it back and forth. I could feel the rod stroking in and out and I began to orgasm immediately, squealing as he pumped forward, just as Rita had. There was no doubt about one thing: my daughter was a clever girl when it came to finding men with big cocks....
...Mrs. H.'s story neared conclusion at that point. I asked her how her orgasms were during sex with the boy, in view of the fact that he was a new young partner.
"Well," doctor," she said. "I had always thought that a penis is a penis, no matter whose it is. But that's just not true."
"Why do you say that?"
"Joel was fabulously talented at holding his erection. I don't know whether it's something that all the youngsters are being taught today or whether it's just that these youngsters intuitively know how to please a woman. But every time he built me up and had me looking for his climax he managed to hold onto it. The result was that he built me up three times and gave me three fabulous final orgasms before he finally ejaculated himself."
"So the sex act was successful?" I asked.
"Stunningly so," Mrs. H. said. "And do you know what really made it great for me? After it was over I asked Joel about his orgasm. I asked him if he'd had a good come, 'My best ever,' he said in answer to my question."
"You must have been pleased," I said.
"I sure was," Mrs. H. said. "I even went so far as to ask whether it was better than the, come he'd had with my daughter that previous night. He said yes. He specifically said that it was better because it was more exciting. And do you know why he thought it was more exciting, doctor? Because it was with an older woman!" Mrs. H. paused and continued. "So I guess the old wines are the most fragrant after all, huh, doctor?"
I told Mrs. H, that I wished to talk to her further about her seductions of her daughter's boyfriends. Time wouldn't permit it at that particular session, however, so Mrs. H. agreed to see Miss Johnson and schedule a second appointment. At that point we broke until our next meeting. I had no idea how disturbed Mrs. H. would be when she returned for her next visit.
II
I reflected upon Mrs. H.'s story before she returned for her second and final visit to my offices. I thought it was already quite clear that her desire to seduce young boys who were boyfriends of her daughter stemmed from two causes. First, she was afraid that age was limiting her desirability as a woman. And secondly, she had a need to compete with her daughter since essentially Mrs. H. was a jealous person. like a child, Mrs. H. had to have something that she wanted which wasn't hers.
Mrs. H.'s attitude at our first meeting was confident and smug. She knew what she was doing and she was pleased with the ease with which she'd gotten away with it.
On her second trip to my office, to meet art appointment which Miss Johnson had scheduled eight days after the first, Mrs. H.'s entire attitude had changed. This time she was very nearly a crushed woman.
As she lay back on the sofa she began to break down emotionally. I could see tears welling in her eyes. I handed her a handkerchief and I sought to comfort her.
"Whenever you'd like to tell me," I said, "Id be happy to hear about your problem."
"I just can't believe what's happened," she said. "And it just happened last night. It's devastating."
"Do you feel like talking about it?" I asked the distraught woman.
She nodded. She dabbed at her wet eyes with that handkerchief and she nodded again. "I'll tell you about the whole thing," she said. "But I just can't believe it. I never thought anything as deranged and perverted as this could happen."
"Whenever you're ready," I said, "I'll be glad to hear about it. But I can't help you unless you tell me."
Mrs. H. sobbed for a few moments and then told me an odd tale of child seduction and family intrigue....
...I don't know whether I've ever told you about Tommy, doctor. He's one of the five boys I've seduced out of my daughter's stable of former boyfriends. Tommy is a handsome boy with dark hair, dark eyes and a very fat penis. He's a very thick boy. He's not fat or anything, he's just very solid. It was about a year ago that I first fucked him.
Tommy has always been my favorite of the five boys I've seduced. That's why it upsets me so much that Tommy was in on a very cruel deception of which I was the victim.
I thought everything was all over between Tommy and me. He had gone on and was screwing an eighteen-year-old cheerleader from the high school. From the rumors I heard, he was a very popular boy because he was one of the best fourteen-year-old muff-divers in town. That burned me a little because I'm the one who taught him how to do it. He'd never put his tongue near a woman's pussy until I taught him how good it could be.
Anyway, doctor, Tommy called me up last night just after the family had had their dinner. He asked me if he could come over to fuck.
"Tommy!" I replied to him over the phone, trying to speak in a low voice that couldn't be heard by Rita or my husband. "You know I'd love to fuck you. But Rita and my husband are home."
"Never mind them," little Tommy said. "Just sneak down to the basement in a half an hour. I'll be down there through the back entrance. You can just sit on my penis for a few minutes then you can go back upstairs."
I had to ponder it, just the same way that Joel had had to ponder my telephone offer.
"For old time's sake?" he asked over the telephone. And when I heard the anxiety of that young boyish voice of his I couldn't possibly say no. I told him to be down in the basement in thirty minutes. I said we could do it on the old cot down there.
Sure enough. Tommy turned up in the basement a half an hour later. I quickly went down there while my husband was watching the Monday night football game and while Rita was upstairs on the telephone. I went down the cellar stairs and there was Tommy sitting on the edge of the cot, wearing nothing but his underpants.
I looked at the boy's crotch and I saw his great big whang bulging beneath the crotch area of his underwear. I had always remembered that young Tommy had that immensely thick penis, the kind that makes a woman think she's sitting on a salami.
"Oh, Tommy," I said as I went over and kissed the youngster on the lips. "I thought it was all over between us."
"It was," said the boy. "But I was sitting all alone in my room at home. I was thinking about how good a pussy would feel on my cock. And I knew that the pussies of the young girls in my class at high school just wouldn't do. Those pussies are too tight. They haven't been opened up enough yet. So I knew I needed a woman instead of a girl. I wanted an older more mature woman. So I called you."
"Oh, Tommy," I said as I started to loosen my blouse, working off the buttons at the front of the blouse. "You say the sweetest things, Tommy."
"But I mean them," he said to me as I opened my blouse. My bosom were bare beneath my blouse and the boy eyed them. I'd slipped my bra off right after he'd called me. I wanted to be ready to get undressed, fucked and then dressed again in a big hurry.
"I know you do," I said in response, "and that's why I'm going to give you the best fuck you've had in a long time."
I undid the snap of my skirt and pulled it off me. I had another little surprise for him. I wasn't wearing any panties under that skirt of mine. That shocked him.
"Hot shit!" the boy said. "I thought it was only the young kids who don't wear under things any more."
"If a woman of thirty-seven wants to think on the young side," I said, "she won't wear any panties under her clothes either."
"You sure are a swinger, Mrs. H-, " he said. "Let's screw!"
"It'll have to be a quickie," I warned. "I don't want the people upstairs getting suspicious."
"No, no," he said, "let's have one of the long slow ones, the kind where you make me come two or three times. Okay?"
"A quickie," I insisted. "If there's one thing that I don't want it's my husband wandering down here to see what's up. He'd quickly discover that what's up is that fat rod of yours!"
We didn't talk much more about it. Tommy stood and pulled down those underpants of his, showing me his big hairy genital mass and letting that fat organ of his directly pop up and out of those confining pants of his.
A youngster o fourteen always looks so enthused and happy when you go for his prick. It's always as if something magical and exciting is happening to him. All I did was sit down on that bed with him and push my lips to his penis. When I took it in my mouth he went wild.
He leaned forward and we assumed the inverted position side by side on that bed. I held his ass with my hands and he forced his head down to where my big hairy bush was. He pushed his face into my bush and I felt his tongue pierce my pussy lips.
"Oh, Tommy, yes!" I moaned to him. "A sixty-nine! How perfect!"
He lapped at my cunt with long slow strokes of his tongue, working my pussy into a wetter and wetter state and teasing my clit to the point where it was almost standing up as long and hard as his penis.
I flicked my tongue across his nozzle and lapped out of his spout the few little droplets of come that had gathered there. I held that penis firmly in my hand. I tried to concentrate on licking it, but that fourteen-year-old boy's head was pushed so firmly into my snatch that it was extremely difficult to concentrate. I kept licking and so did he. Eventually my pussy felt like it was about to explode and his penis was so big that I was afraid he was going to flood my mouth if I didn't get that rod down into my vagina in a hurry.
I pushed his face away from my pussy and I released his cock from my mouth. He struggled to get his face back to my pussy and it took great willpower not to let him push it back there. After all, what woman wouldn't want to spend an hour getting her pussy licked?
"Why all the foreplay tonight?" I asked him. "How come you still want to lick? It used to be that you'd just run your lips across my vagina once and you'd be ready to bang your fat rod in."
"I kind of wanted a long slow one tonight," he said. I was beginning to get suspicious. Why did he want to keep me down in the basement on that cot for so long? What was he up to? What was happening upstairs?"
"Why?" I asked, my pussy oozing with desire as I tried to ask rational questions.
"That's just how I felt," he pleaded.
"I'll tell you how to feel," I said to him. "You feel as if your rod is going to cream if I lick it for ten more seconds."
"That would be fine," he said. "Then I could come in your mouth, we could relax and then do it again. The second time I could come in your pussy."
"No dice, Tommy," I said. "I don't know why you're trying to stall me down here, but it won't work. I want my cock and I want it now."
We had to wrestle around a little bit, but I can handle a boy of fourteen a lot easier than I could handle a full grown man. Their penises are often just as big, but their muscles are not. I had him turned over on his back and I reached down to his penis.
I grabbed it forcefully and wrapped my fingers firmly around the hard shaft. "You either co-operate or I'll snap your prick in two," I told him. And he knew better than to argue.
I held that penis in my hands as I mounted him from the top, throwing my leg over him and straddling his hips. I held my pussy right above his penis as I held the penis firmly in my hand. Then I released the penis.
I looked at that dark-haired handsome young boy right in the eye as I started to lower myself down onto his rod. s
"Coming down, Tommy," I said. "Ready or not here you come."
He pursed his lips as my pussy came down. He felt his penis beginning to be enveloped by the firm pussy lips which were above him. Down came the pussy. It enveloped that hard penis quickly and I brought myself all the way down.
"I think it would be a very nice idea," I said to him, "if you held onto my breasts as I pump."
Up and down I rode on that fat prick of his. I slammed my pussy down and up and then slammed it downward again, forcing that little hard hose of his to push way back up into me. His young hands were all over my tits as I humped up and down. He made me orgasm hard almost immediately. That was lucky, because he wasn't able to hold his sperm back for very long.
I felt his rod getting harder and harder within me. Then it started to spasm. Then it released a torrent of pent-up come.
His hose sprayed sperms straight upwards from his prick. As his hands fondled my tits and as my nipples became hard against his palms, I felt those warm seeds spurting up into my vagina. I pounded downward, milking that penis of his for every drop of come that it was worth. I had to bite my tongue to keep from squealing out in the joy that I felt.
I panted for my breath and lay right next to him on that cot after our screw was over. I could feel that warm satisfied feeling down in my pussy. But I was also very aware that my husband and my daughter were right upstairs. I had to get dressed and get back up there before they became inquisitive about what I was doing in the basement.
I reached for my clothes. "I've got to get back upstairs," I said to him. I kissed the boy on the lips and I softly patted his balls.
"No!" he said. "Don't go back up there. I'll lick your anus if you stay down here with me."
Now I knew something was going on up there that I should know about. I stood up and I quickly began to put my skirt and my blouse back on.
"Young fellow," I said to Tommy as he lay there on the cot with crud encrusting his balls, "I begin to suspect that you're in on something I don't know about."
"Not at all," he said. "I just, came over to fuck."
"Well," I said as I pulled my skirt up over my bare dripping pussy, "I'm going upstairs. I hope I don't find anything there that implicates you in a plot."
"Shit," he said. "If you're going upstairs I'm getting out of here."
I went to the stairs and darted up them. The football game was still on the television set but my husband wasn't watching it any more. I picked up the telephone and Rita wasn't talking on it any more. I listened carefully. I could hear something going on in the upstairs bedrooms. So I darted up the stairs, moving up the carpeted stairs on my bare feet so that I'd arrive by surprise upon anything illicit that was going on.
I looked into Rita's bedroom. Nothing. Then I went to my own bedroom and threw open the door. There it was. Right on my bed. My husband's nude body was vigorously humping up and down on top of Rita. He was pounding his prick in and out of his very own daughter as she squeezed her father tightly by wrapping her long bare legs around his midsection. With the help of Tommy, my husband and my daughter had put a big one over on me. I was so pissed that I picked up the clock radio and threw it at them. It hit my husband across the bobbing bare buttocks and bounced onto the floor where it shattered....
...."Shocking," I said to Mrs. H. "And that's what you're so upset about today."
"Wouldn't you be," she asked, "if some little boy helped in a ruse that allowed your wife to go to bed with your son?"
"I understand, Mrs. H., " I said. "I can see how and why you're so upset."
I sympathized with Mrs. H., but as a professional person I had to make an analysis as I saw fit to. I informed Mrs. H. that her situation was a pure example of someone bringing trouble upon herself.
I discussed how I felt that Mrs. H. had no ethical business interfering in the sexual affairs of her daughter, particularly in trying to seduce her daughter's boyfriends. Such seductions were obviously immature on Mrs. H.'s part. Instead of accepting her own role as a mother and accepting the fact of her age (as mentioned in the beginning of this interview section), Mrs. H. tried to deny her age by competing with her daughter for lovers. Such competition was doomed to disaster, as Mrs. H. painfully discovered.
Mr. H. was angered that his wife was cheating on him. Rita was infuriated about her mother's meddling in her own business. And young Tommy had felt that he was used as a sex object by Mrs. H. Hence, all conspired to "teach Janette H. a lesson" on this particular evening which Mrs. H. described.
An unfortunate outgrowth of the situation, however, is that Rita and her father seemed to enjoy the physical love which they had shared on that particular evening. Rita, from the follow up reports I've received, appears to be continuing an affair with her father, leaving Mrs. H. to fend for herself as far as sex is concerned.
Mrs. H.'s sexual problems thus were multi-pled by her cravings to have sex with the young teenage boys which her daughter was having sex with. Mrs. H. has learned her lesson painfully. I have turned her over to another psycho-sexual therapist who is doing his best to help Mrs. H. cope with her situation and decide whether she wishes to attempt to continue with her present marriage.
I do not like to moralize over my patients' problems or situations. However, I think Mrs. H.'s situation might teach us all a lesson about discretion. Many moral and upstanding American women are now having sex with young teenage boys. It is a trend which will probably run its course and there is little that we can do about it.
However, the women of America had best take a lesson from this case history. There are some boys which will definitely be off limits. These are the boys already taken by other women or the boys brought into the house by one's own daughter. Family deception never aided any affair of the flesh.
Also, I might add a word about sexual deception in general. Mrs. .H.'s plight was particularly painful since she had been caught in a deception with she had begun. Finding out was all the more painful for her daughter and husband. And the revenge taken upon Mrs. H. threatens to sabotage her entire marriage.
My word of advice to American women would be this: if you must join this perverse fad of seducing young boys, it must never be forced upon the boy and it must never be concealed in deception. Forced sex or deceptive sex often leads only to disaster.
CASE HISTORY FIVE
My interview with Mrs. Ella S. afforded me a particularly unique experience.
Mrs. S., thirty-four years of age, had divorced her husband three years before entering my clinic to discuss her affair with a young boy named Bruce. Sex with her husband had been a dismal failure. But sex with Bruce, a lad of fourteen, was exciting and challenging to Mrs. S. And, unlike almost all other women whom I interviewed, Mrs. S. lived with her boy-lover and he acted as her husband.
But that's only half of the unique interview Mrs. S. was able to give me. Since she lived with her young boyfriend, the two of them were able to meet openly and travel together as a couple. Little suspicion was ever raised since Bruce easily could pass for Mrs. S.'s son.
Thus, on Mrs. S.'s second visit to my office, she was able to bring young Bruce with her. Bruce, therefore, was able to give me and the students of these case histories, his own direct thoughts on what it's like to be seduced by an older woman while in one's early teens. So the second part of this case history will be primarily the testimony of young Bruce. But initially, we're concerned with Mrs. S.'s own words on her first visit to my office.
Mrs. S. explained to me on her first visit to my office that Bruce, at the age of sixteen, had moved into her home and taken the place of her husband.
"That strikes me as a rather odd situation," I said to Mrs. S. "Could you tell me how this situation happened to come about?"
"I guess you can say that it came about by luck," she said. "I needed someone to screw me after my divorce went through. I was lucky enough that a young boy happened to come along."
"What about his parents?" I asked. "Who are they and where are they?"
Mrs. S. immediately answered that question and moved on to more specific matters, particularly how she and Bruce first came to make love....
...Doctor, Bruce's father is an old drunk. The only person in the whole town who drinks more than he does is his wife. He's plastered all the time and she's plastered about a hundred and fifty per cent of the time.
Okay, I'm exaggerating a bit. But Bruce was very unhappy living at home with his parents. All the parents wanted to do was have drunken orgies with the neighborhood swap club. Bruce was always in the way. So about six months ago I allowed Bruce to start coming over to my house to do his homework.
I was glad to have him there. I liked having a child around the house. I had always wanted to have children but that old fart of a husband of mine went and had a vasectomy without telling me. So every month when it came time for us to screw a lot so that I could get pregnant, he'd hump me constantly. Yet he never succeeded in knocking me up. It wasn't until after the divorce that I found out what he'd done.
Well, Bruce would come over and sit at the dining room table and do his homework. I'd sit in the living room doing something or just sit there and think. My mind would always wander and I'd always be conscious at what a nice young fellow little Bruce was. It was such a shame that his parents didn't seem to want him.
After a while Bruce didn't even want to go home at night. I telephoned his parents and they told me that Bruce could stay away for good if he wanted to. The worst part of it was that he really did want to. It wasn't that he just wanted to be away for a few days or a few nights. He hated his parents and they disliked him.
Well, I tried to help Bruce out. I felt sorry for a boy of fourteen who nobody wanted. So I made a little room for him at my house. He began staying there at nights. And although I admit that was beginning to be sexually interested in the boy, I never did or said anything ... for a while.
Bruce moved in about three months ago and stayed. A week later his parents sent all his belongings to him at my house along with a note telling him not to come back. It was that same night that Bruce and I first screwed.
As he did his homework I was reading an article in the newspaper about couples of different ages. I read about a movie star, a man of fifty-six, who married a girl of twenty. He was thirty-six years older than she.
"Shit," I thought to myself, "I'll bet she feels old age creeping up on her every night."
And then I read about a French singer of forty-three, a woman, who had married a youth of twenty-five. Eighteen years difference there.
Then I looked across the room at Bruce. I deducted his age from mine and came out with eighteen, a nice sounding number. Then I looked down and read about a famous judge who is sixty-seven and had a wife of twenty-five.
"Shit!" I thought to myself. "Forty-two years. I guess the way these people stay on the young side is by screwing people so much younger."
And then I looked over at Bruce again. Eighteen years wasn't such a big difference, not in light of what everyone else seemed to be doing.
"Bruce," I said to the boy quietly as he did his lessons for school the next day. "I'd like to have a serious little chat with you before you go to sleep tonight."
Bruce nodded. And a few hours later we had our chat ... and a little more, too.
Bruce came to me for the talk before getting undressed for bed. But I told him that I wanted him to put his pajamas on first. This, I explained, would be a beddy-bye time chat. He obeyed me. But while he was off putting his pajamas on I slipped into a nightgown of my own. I chose the sexiest one I could find. It was a light blue silk ruffled night gown. The silk was so sheer that my pretty big nipples were visible through it, as were all of those little hairs which formed that elegant triangle of fluff down between my legs.
"I'm ready," I heard Bruce call to me from his room.
"Are you ready for bed?" I called back to him from my bedroom. I had just made down my bed, the big twin bed which my husband and I used to screw in.
"Yes, I am," he called back.
"Well, then," I said in a sexy-oriented voice, "you just come on into my bedroom. We're going to have our little chat in here."
I sat down on the edge of that big twin bed. Bruce came into the room and froze as soon as he saw me sitting there. His eyes wobbled back and forth in their sockets as he stared at my breasts and at my crotch.
"Well," I said to him, "don't be surprised. I am a woman with a woman's needs, you know. There's no reason to act so shocked."
"But, I thought that-"
"I don't know what you thought," I said to him. "But I'm planning on being more than just a mother to you. I'm going to be your lover, too."
"Lover?" he asked.
"Your lover," I said, nodding. "Your physical lover." I moved my hand to the drawstring on his pajama bottoms. I began to tug.
"No, please," he said. "I don't think it's right if we-"
"Bruce," I said. "Look at my breasts. Aren't they nice? Aren't they full and round?"
"Uh huh," he nodded, trying to conceal both his delight and his embarrassment.
"Do the little girls at school have big buxom knockers like that yet?" I asked.
He shook his head.
"Aren't big breasts like this with nice nipples on the end just what a young boy would like?"
Handsome little Bruce started to smile. He nodded slowly.
"Would you like to see what I look like without even this skimpy nightgown on?" I asked.
His eyes were staring at my silky triangle of pussy hair now. Since he was so fascinated by it I knew I'd have to show it to him.
"Bruce, this will be your first time in bed with a woman, won't it?"
He nodded. "Well, then," I said. "Why don't you help me get my clothes off?"
I stood up in front of Bruce and I unbuttoned a single little catch on the top of my gown. The entire front of my gown opened. My breasts came peeking out as young Bruce's eyes nearly came popping out of his head.
"Aren't they nice?" I asked the boy. "Wouldn't you like to kiss and caress a big pair of boobs like this?"
I held the front of that gown open and then let the gown slide down over my arms. The whole top of the gown dropped down my body to where I held it at the waist. He looked at my bare breasts and then reached forward with his childish little left hand. He pawed my right breast. I released the gown and let it fall to the ground, baring the pussy and everything else from my toes to my hair.
"Oh, Brucie," I teased as I looked down at him. "I can tell that your body-likes my body. Look!"
He looked down to where I was indicating. His great big penis was swelling up beneath his pajamas. The head of that long tool was peeking through the slit at the crotch of the pajamas. Within a few more seconds the whole hard cock was sticking about four inches out of his pants.
He tried to cover it up but I wouldn't let him. "No fair hiding it," I said as I sat back down next to him and started to undo the knot on the string of his pajama drawstrings. "I showed you mine so you have to show me yours."
"I have to?" he whined.
"No, Bruce," I said boldly and faking a hurt expression. "If you don't love me you don't have to show me your little watering can."
"But I do love you," he said. "Honest."
"Then you'll show me your penis," I said. "And then before going to sleep we'll do all sorts of nice things with that big penis."
Bruce was such a shy boy! I guess it was from having to be so quiet around his drunken parents. But for me he reached down to the drawstring of his pajamas. He undid that drawstring and opened up his pajamas. Out came the penis.
"Oh, Bruce," I signed. "You're very handsome down there."
"Am I?" he asked.
"You certainly are," I insisted. I moved my hand to his balls and began to caress them. I ran the tip of my thumb up and down the long vein on the underside of his penis. And I even flicked the tip of my forefinger right across the little spout on the tip of his prick.
"You're making it feel good," he said. "'very good." The boy began to sigh. He took off the top of his pajamas and then I got him to slip out of the bottoms, too. My little Bruce was completely nude.
He may have been young and he may have been a virgin, but he had a fair idea of what he was supposed to do once I was naked. His little hands were all over my breasts, squeezing my hard nipples between his little fingers. Then another of his hands dropped down to my bush.
As I continued to play with that hard little rod of his he kept pushing his hand across the lips of my vagina. I held my legs apart as I sat on the edge of that bed. His hand was going squarely across my pussy lips, making my whole vagina get drenched with the desire to come.
Our lips met and I kissed young Bruce passionately as he toyed with my vagina and as I toyed with his balls and his prick. But within a few more seconds I knew that I wouldn't be able to take much more of a build up before I wanted to start orgasming. So I released his penis and lay back onto that big twin bed.
"Brucie," I said teasingly as I held my legs wide apart and wriggled my hips sexily so that he could see the great big crack of my cunt, "it's time. Time to jam it in."
"I ... I feel like I'm going to come already," he said nervously.
"Just put it in, Brucie," I said. "Don't worry about coming too soon or you'll go flat immediately. There's nothing worse than a boy who goes flat when he's needed to perform for a woman."
I held those legs of mine apart and the youngster started to crawl onto me.
"That's it, Brucie," I said to him. "Mount me and then give me the balling of my life."
Brucie dragged his young body on top of mine, working his loins directly into position with mine. I thought I was going to have to hold his penis and guide it in since he was inexperienced as a lover. But no. Just when I was reaching down there and getting ready to guide that rod of his into my wet womanly slot the big head of it caught the opening of my crack.
"Push forward," I said when I felt the head of that rod poke through the outer lips. "Poke through those lips and you become a man!"
His little body was trembling, but I insisted that he service me. Boys have to learn sooner or later how to service women. It was better for this little fellow to learn sooner. Then he'd know sooner and he'd be able to do his duty again.
He pushed his rod forward and it pushed all the way into me. I could feel it pushing down around my cervix and massaging itself against all the most sensitive inner spots in my pussy.
"Oh, Brucie," I moaned as the boy caught on and started to move his rod back and forth without my having to tell him. "Oh, Brucie. You're not a boy, you're a man! A little sixteen-year-old man with a fat dork!"
He sloshed that fat rod of his back and forth at an ever accelerating pace, jamming the thick head of his young prong repeatedly against my cervix. How I moaned! Pretty soon I was squealing. And after that I was emitting long shrill howls of delight each time that huge hard stick of his jammed in and out of me.
I kept holding his cock in my vagina with a vice-like grip. I rolled the walls of my pussy against that big hard dick of his and I started a series of long sustained orgasms, each blast of which I celebrated by uttering another of those shrill howls of mine.
Then I felt his rod stiffen, spasm and begin to spit. I could feel the penis wriggling inside of me and I was aware of a feeling of wet warmth way down deep inside my pussy. He was coming. I could feel every spurt.
Each time his penis spasmed and spit a hot gob of semen down into me, my own pussy shot back with a little thrust of its own. His penis, having been pent up ever since his testicles descended, unloaded a long series as his fair young boyish boy lay wriggling nude between my legs. My orgasms continued intensely right up until the time his penis shot its last drop and started to go limp.
"Oh, Bruce," I moaned to the boy when he withdrew his long slippery expended prick. "Oh, Bruce, that was so good. I think that you should move into my bedroom permanently. I think you should play the role of both my son and my husband. How's that sound to you?"
Bruce only grunted, but I could tell that he liked the idea. His come had been so intense that he was completely winded. As he panted for air I leaned down to his cock and licked it completely clean....
...Mrs. S brought her testimony to a close at that point. She allowed me, however, in the time remaining in her interview session, to pose a final question or two.
"And Bruce has lived with you ever since?" I asked her.
"That's right, doctor," she replied. '"We live together and we sleep together. What could be nicer? We're just like any other married suburban couple."
"Just like any other couple," I said, "except you're not married and your common law husband is only sixteen."
"These are the Liberal 1970's, doctor," said Mrs. S. matter-of-factly. "Nobody gives a flying fuck about things like that any more. I'm sure Brucie and I will get legally married someday. If we want to."
"It won't bother you to have a husband twenty years younger than you?"
"It doesn't bother me now," she said. "Why should it bother me later?"
"What if the boy decides he wants to enjoy a younger woman?" I asked. "Would you permit it?"
"Why would he want to do something like that?" Mrs. S. asked sharply. "Don't you think that I can keep satisfying the little darling."
"I'm not questioning that at all," I said to Mrs. S. "But few males these days go through their entire lives only making love to a single woman."
"You'll have to direct questions like that to Bruce" Mrs. S. said. "I couldn't answer something like that for him. I only cook, clean, press and screw for him. I don't answer his questions."
"Is it possible for me to meet him?" I asked, seizing on the opportunity to meet and speak with a youngster who has been seduced by an older woman.
"Why not?" she said. "I can drive my little boy-lover over for a meeting if you wish. I'd send him over by himself but his bike broke and he's not old enough to drive yet."
We terminated our meeting at that point. Miss Johnson scheduled Mrs. S. and little Bruce K. to return three days after that original meeting. Bruce was a boy I was most anxious to talk to. I'm sure he could tell things that men three times his age might not have known about.
* * *
In considering the case of Mrs. S. I was struck with two divergent feelings. The traditional part of me told me that there was something irregular if not downright "wrong" about the living and sleeping accommodations which Mrs. S. and Bruce shared. Yet obviously it was impossible for Bruce to return to his real parents since they were ill equipped to provide for him. And going into a foster home would hardly be as happy a situation for Bruce as the one he now had with Mrs. S. Thus my feelings were mixed when Mrs. S. and the handsome youth named Bruce returned to my office for her second visit.
Bruce was a likable young boy of sixteen. His hair was sandy and his eyes were light blue. His face was boyish and cute. When he came to my office with Mrs. S. he wore a neat little dark suit, a tie and a conservative white shirt.
Bruce answered my questions directly and with as much detail as he could. Mrs. S. sat quietly as Bruce spoke to me.
"Tell me, Bruce," I said to the boy as we went into the serious part of our discussion, "what do you think of Mrs. S. as? A mother? A girlfriend? A friend?"
Bruce looked at Mrs. S. and began to speak. "All of those things," he said in his boyish voice. "She's my friend and she took the place of my mother when my real mother didn't want me any more. But we screw almost every night. So I guess she's my girlfriend, too."
"What's it like being able to sleep with an older woman every night?" I asked the boy.
He giggled. "I like it," he said. "It makes my little noodle feel good when all that stuff comes out"
"You mean when you ejaculate?" I asked.
"If that's what you call it," he said. "Usually we just say 'come'. "
"Tell me," I then continued, "do your friends know that you make love to Mrs. S.?" I asked.
The boy shook his head. "They don't know anything about it," he said. "But I'd love to tell them. Some of the girls in school have started to fuck. And from what I've heard, my Ella (Mrs. S.) is much more fun in the sack than any of those girls at school."
"Why do you say that?" I asked.
"Because of the fun way of fucking we have," the boy said.
"Would you describe it for me?" I asked. And Bruce began....
...I guess Ella likes to humor me because I'm just a kid. But a lot of times we play games while we fuck. It's not that we don't get down to the serious side of fucking, because we do that, too. For example, Ella has taught me about cunnilingus and fellatio as well as butt-fucking and being able to masturbate myself by rubbing my penis between her tits. All that is nice, but I like the games best.
What kind of games do we play. Well, there's poker. It's strip poker and we play strict rules. Whoever loses the hand has to take something off. Whoever is nude first has to be on the bottom when we fuck. Then there's a game called "houseboy."
In "houseboy" I take off all my clothes and do a lot of the housework for Ella. Then she comes in and pretends she's my wicked stepmother.
She scolds and tells me that I did a terrible job. She tells me that I'm not worthy of being kept in her house and she threatens to throw me out. Usually about this time my penis starts to get hard since I'm standing nude in front of her. When she sees the penis she asks me what it is. I tell her it's my member and she asks me what it's used for. I tell her that, too.
Then she 'punishes' me by making me to do something with my penis. Once she made me masturbate into a plastic bag. Another time she made me rub my penis up and down between her buttocks until I came. Then she had me kiss the spot where I'd wet.
But I guess the most fun game that we've ever played was one we played last week. It was called "Bad Boy at the Beach."
It was a lovely das last week so Ella and I drove off to one of the beaches about a hundred miles from here. The beach was very deserted. There was no one else around beside us. That's when Ella thought about that game.
All I was wearing was my bathing suit and all she had on was hers. Ella looks very nice in a tiny little two piece suit. The top is so small that her big breasts almost hang out. And that little bottom is so small that the cleavage of her ass can easily be seen and the front of it barely covers up her pussy.
I looked at Ella and I could feel my penis start to move. I looked at those big breasts of hers and I imagined those nipples down beneath that skimpy little bathing suit. Then I looked down to where the little bottom of that bathing suit covered her pussy. As we walked hand in hand on the beach I saw that her bathing suit bottom had lowered itself a bit. The top of her muff was peeking over the edge of her bathing suit.
When I saw those stray pussy hairs sticking up a few inches below her navel my penis really started to stiffen. The next thing I knew that big rod of mine was practically breaking out of the crotch of my bathing suit. That's just when Ella looked down at it.
"You sixteen-year-old leech!" she ranted as she began our game. "Just why in hell do you have hard-on?"
"Ella," I whined, "look!" I motioned to her pussy hair as it stuck up and out of that little patch of cloth that wasn't quite covering her crotch.
"So my tuft is sticking out," she said. "So what? Does that give you the right to get hard over me without even asking?"
I nodded. Then I got fresh with her. I hooked my finger over the bottom of her suit and I gave it a fun little tug. The bottom of that bathing suit pulled down another few inches, giving me a real good view of her tuft right out there on that deserted beach.
"You've been a bad boy!" she ranted as she quickly covered up by pulling that suit back up. "You're going to have to pay the price for being so fresh!"
"Is it a penis price that I'll have to pay?" I asked. I was hopeful.
"You're damn right it is," she said as I started to move away from her. "Just as soon as I catch you that pair of bathing trunks is as good as off!"
I began to run and she ran right behind me, chasing me down that empty beach. I ran right along where the tide was coming in and I knew that she was right behind me almost every step of that way.
"That penis of yours shouldn't be up," she said as she raced after me. "And I know the best way in the world to make it limp again."
We raced along for several hundred feet. Finally she reached straight forward and caught me by the seat of those trunks. Her fingers hooked onto them and she yanked. With a tremendous rip the trunks came off me ... not just part of the way, but completely.
There I was. Nude and with an enormous hard sticking out from my crotch. But Ella wasn't finished punishing me yet for being so fresh. As I stopped running and tried to hide my erect dork with my hands, she gave me a push. I went over backwards, landing flat on my ass in the shallow water.
"Ella!" I wailed. "What if somebody comes along and sees me with my hard dork sticking out? You know what kind of trouble we'll both be in."
"They won't even see your big hard dork," she said.
"Of course they will," I protested.
"Of course they won't," she insisted. "They won't be looking at it. They're going to be looking at my bare nipples and my bare pussy instead."
I gulped. I knew what my punishment was going to be. I was going to have to fuck with Ella right out there on that deserted public beach. Right there in all the sunshine and as I was sitting in the shallow water, Ella started to unhook the back strap on the top of her bathing suit.
I looked around to see if somewhere on that beach there might have been someone watching us. But I saw no one. And when Ella pulled that bathing suit top down and off her big breasts, I knew I was going to be punished in the way she saw fit.
She reached to her bikini bottom and hooked her thumbs into it. Then she started to pull it down. That tuft of pussy hair, brown and carefully manicured into a triangle, appeared again. But this time she was voluntarily showing it. And she had a reason.
She pulled the bikini bottom all the way down and I saw Ella's big pussy in its entirety. I didn't get to see it outdoors very often. That, combined with the shallow cold water I was sitting in, made my penis so hard that it was beginning to hurt.
"I think you know what the punishment is going to be, Brucie," she said to me.
"Screwing?" I asked. She nodded. What else. Ella likes to screw in excitingly different places. And she had me trapped now. I had to do what she wanted.
Ella walked right up to me as I sat in that water. She straddled my hips with her ankles. My mouth was right on a level with her pussy. I took that as a hint. I leaned forward and pressed my mouth right into her bush. I kissed it. Then I kissed it again, flicking my tongue upwards across the vaginal lips as I planted those sloppy wet kisses on her most private part.
She held my head with her hands and forced me to keep my face pressed tightly against her vagina. I inhaled the scent of her pussy and I exhaled my hot breath all over that wet slot of hers. She liked the feel of that. I sent shivers up and down her body. As I looked up at her I saw that she had goose bumps all over her and that her rosy little nipples were dark red and as hard as stones.
"Have you ever fucked in the water?" she asked me.
"You should know I haven't," I said to her. "You're the only one I've ever fucked with, so if I haven't done it with you I haven't done it at all."
She smiled down at me when I said that to her. Then she spoke again.
"You'll like screwing in the water," she said to me. "The water is cool and it makes the body tighten. That means the vagina can encompass the penis more snugly. It makes for a terribly exciting fuck."
I just nodded. She was the teacher and I was the student. But it soon became apparent that she had a master's degree in the art of fucking.
I stayed squatted down in that water while Ella instructed me to lie back on my elbows. I did what she told me. After all, it was her house I was living in and a boy can't disobey the closest thing to a parent that he has.
As I stayed up there on my elbows Ella began to squat down on me, bringing that wet furry bush of hers straight down in a sitting position. She scored a direct hit on my prick.
The cool sea water was washing over most of my body and giving me chills. But because I was having chills, my hard prick felt ever so warm and comfortable inside Ella's warm snug pussy. She started to ride up and down as she let her knees and legs drop onto the sand and water. There we were out on a public beach screwing in the female superior position in the area where the tide was coming in.
"You see, Bruce," she said as she started to ride furiously up and down on my rod. "Fucking in the water can be a lot of fun. You just wait till you feel what your orgasm is going to be like."
I nodded and panted. My penis felt tremendous as it was tucked into her warm inner part. I couldn't imagine anything that could possibly make a penis feel any better. But that's only because I didn't know what my come was going to be like.
I stroked upward on her, poking my penis forward and back as she lowered and raised herself up and down on me. The coolness of the water had slowed down my body function so that the sperm didn't gather to ejaculate as fast as it normally would have. But even though the sperm was slow in gathering, all the usual friction on the penis was there. So by the time I was ready to shot-and by the time Ella was driving herself crazy with a series of deeply felt pelvic thrusts-my penis was aching for an ejaculation. Not just wanting one badly, doctor. I mean aching for a come.
I thrust myself up and down underneath Ella and finally the penis was ready. I felt all the come building down in my balls and I could feel the tremendous desire within the shaft itself. Do you know that urgent feeling a guy gets just before coming, doctor? That's how my prick had felt for several minutes.
I pumped hard and my prick finally released. Ella actually screamed for joy when she felt me come. Her whole body was cold now from being nude splashing in the water. But because the body was cold the sperm I shot off seemed particularly warm. She said later that she could feel every last drop of hot come as it shot up out of my dork. I don't doubt it. I sure felt it. And it was a great way to be punished at the end of "Bad Boy at the Beach."....
...Bruce concluded his statement at that point and I didn't see much more need to question the boy. The intent of the sexual games which Mrs. S. was playing was obvious.
Since Mrs. S. was seeking to fulfill her dominant role as a mother by putting the boy in sex games where he was nominally "punished." Further, Mrs. S. was attempting to fulfill Bruce's child role by giving him playful things to do, such as games. And yet at the same time, these games were frank sexual capers in which Mrs. S. fulfilled her role as Bruce's woman. All these sexual games ended with the boy having sex with her. And that's what they both wanted.
"Bruce," I said to the boy as I brought the interview to a close, "I've heard enough about the actual sex act between you and Mrs. S. I wonder if you'd tell me one thing, though."
"Yes, sir?" the boy replied.
"If your bathing suit had been torn off during this sex game, how did you get back to your home without being reported as indecent?"
The boy smiled. "I had to go out in the water and walk back the way we came," he said. "I was careful to keep in the water where it was up over my waist. And I couldn't swim because the one time I did, a little girl saw me and spotted my bare ass in the water."
"What about walking back to the car?" I asked.
"It was embarrassing," the boy said. "But at least my prick was still drained from fucking with Ella. Otherwise I would have gotten a hard-on when people saw me. I went back in the direction of the car as far as I could in the water. But then I had to go scrambling bare-assed up the beach to where Ella had left the car. There were a lot of people in that area when he came back. Most of them saw me."
"Did they stare?" I asked.
"It was funny," Bruce said. "None of the men cared except for some muscular gays who were doing exercises up on the sand. Most of the young girls and girls in their teens weren't interested at all when I went by with my limp penis bouncing all around. I guess they saw penises so often that it just wasn't anything new or exciting to them. But the middle aged women, the women of Ella's age. Every one of them really gawked at me."
"Thank you, Bruce," I said. "I have no further questions. I do, however, have a word of advice for Mrs. S."
When Bruce had left the room I spoke briefly to Ella S. I informed her that she had a unique situation with young Bruce and that it appeared to be working successfully (given the odd circumstances) and should be allowed to run its proper course. My word of advice, however, concerned Bruce's future.
I warned Mrs. S. not to treat him too much like a husband. "Mark my words," I told Mrs. S., "there will come a day when Bruce wishes to wander, perhaps to sow some of the proverbial wild oats with young women of his own age."
"What should I do to stop it?" she asked.
"That's the hard part," I said. "There's nothing you can do. Just as it appears normal for you to sleep with a young boy, it will probably be normal for Bruce to want to have his penis in twenty to thirty women before choosing a mate. From experience, I advise you to allow the boy as much freedom as possible. That way you'll pose less of a threat to him and you'll increase your own chances that he'll eventually return back to you."
Mrs. S. listened impassively to my words and then spoke. "Sorry, doctor," she said to me. "My little Bruce has too great a treasure between his legs for me to let another female have a crack at it. I'm keeping him locked up tight until he's seventeen. Then I'm going to marry him before he can get away."
Naturally I couldn't force my opinions and theories on Mrs. S. I could only note that her reaction was not surprising, considering the premium today's modern women place on young boy lovers.
* * *
SUMMARY
What more can be said about the increasing number of young boys who are seduced every day by American women bent on their new liberated concept of sexual freedom and morality? There is little that hasn't been said already by these women whose case histories have been candidly put forward in this volume. I would, however, like to stress one point to the men of this great nation.
It must never be forgotten that virtually any woman these days might fall into what we in the trade refer to as "the child love syndrome". That is to say that there is not a single woman in America who might not suddenly take up with a young boy. This is a fact that most American men are sadly neglecting these days.
Most men feel that their own wives and mothers or sisters and daughters are not "the type" of woman who'd go in for sex with young boys. Sadly, there is no "type". Women are women, and increasingly women want to experiment.
This particular fact that there is no woman who might not attempt to have sex with a young boy was brought home to me personally. Not through my wife, fortunately, but through my clinical assistant, Miss Johnson.
When these case histories had been edited and when the tape recordings had been reviewed several times, I asked Miss Johnson to confer with me and give me both her clinical and professional opinion on several of the women I interviewed. We discussed several cases at length for many days. Then, when our work was almost concluded, I remarked to Miss Johnson that I could diagnose and analyze patients, but I could never fully know what a woman feels like when she's having sex with a young boy.
"That's because you're a man," she said to me with a smile. "I can assure you that I know."
"You?" I asked incredulously. "You know?"
She nodded. And indeed it was true.
From listening to so many women who had successfully and unsuccessfully made love with boys in their early teens, Miss Johnson, thirty-five, made a decision. Second hand information no longer satisfied her. She seduced her sister's son, a boy of twelve.
"Just because I'm not a married woman doesn't mean that I don't have a married woman's physical needs, doctor," Miss Johnson said to me. "If I don't have sex two or three times a week, for example, I feel like I'm going to get physically ill."
"So you decided to mix business with pleasure?" I asked her. "The sex you'd have anyway you decided to have with a youngster."
"Yes," she said, "but to tell you the truth I'd had my eyes on my sister's boy for a year or more. Ever since I was sure he'd passed puberty."
"Was the sex successful?" I asked.
"Certainly, doctor," she said. "How could it not be successful when a woman gets a young boy who has a rod that hasn't even been touched yet?"
"Could you give me your own thoughts on the act?" I asked. "From both a clinical and feminine point of view."
"I think," said my assistant, "that making love with a young boy-in particular a virgin-is about the most exciting thing a woman can do with her body. It's not one of these kinky perverted whips-and-chains things and it's certainly not one of these perverse homosexual things. No, doctor, it's a clean wholesome form of sex. A woman is getting her love given to her by a boy as fresh and innocent as could be, a far cry from getting it from some grown man who's already made the rounds of the local sluts. It's just a marvelous thing, doctor. Psychologically it can't help but excite and thrill a woman. And sexually it can't fail to please. Any woman who doesn't try it at least once is denying herself one of life's genuine thrills."
Miss Johnson is an educated rational woman, not given to premature judgments or quick flighty decisions. Her thoughts were well conceived and were based both on sexual fulfillment as a woman and clinical observation as a professional person. What I found most interesting was that Miss Johnson's enthusiasm for what she'd done so clearly matched the enthusiasm of so many of the other women I interviewed.
Enthusiasm. Maybe that's the word that should be discussed. So many women today are tired of their traditional roles and tired of sex which bores them. Sex with young boys is giving an increasing number of American women something to be enthusiastic about as they enter the bedroom. Maybe that's the fault of their regular men or maybe it's the virtue of the innocence of young boys. In any event, this fad is one that women can be enthusiastic about. And perhaps there is the grave threat to the husbands of America.
