Repetitive as it might seem, no book on the sexual activities of teenagers can overlook mentioning that sexuality is a normal part of growth and development. The growing child, from the day of birth on but especially after puberty, can no more ignore sex than he can willingly stop breathing. Sex and sexuality is as normal a part of him as his breathing!
That does not mean that some youngsters are not inhibited in terms of sex. Indeed, far too many are! Overly strict or misinformed parents (or, perhaps, uninformed parents) may drive sexual thoughts underground and deny sexual activities, but the child does not become asexual. If his normal development is so impeded, he is merely left susceptible to far more serious problems, ranging from actual physical ailments to severe psychological problems.
In the course of my work with disturbed and/or delinquent youngsters, it has become increasingly clear to me that one of the most important factors in development is the sexual one. Because of the important part that it plays in both the physical and psychological life of the individual-and, as a result, even in the social life-it stands head and shoulders above all others. As a matter-of-fact, the child who is physically crippled is in far better shape than the child who is crippled in his sexual development, provided his sexual needs have been given consideration.
I would not go so far as to say that all the problems of youth are based on sexuality, but I honestly believe on the basis of my experience with youngsters that far more are than is generally believed. I have handled boy after boy who has been incarcerated for robbery or truancy or some other form of anti-social behavior, only to find that the real problem was sexual in nature. In one case the boy was fighting back at parents who had thwarted his sexual development, unconscious of that reason. In another the boy was using robbery as a means of "getting back" at a mother who was promiscuous but demanded sexual abstinence from him. A young girl, incarcerated for prostitution, was actually using "tandem sex" as a means of filling a psychological need created by well-intentioned but misinformed parents. The list goes on!
The important thing is that we accept sex as a normal part of development-at least that we understand that it is both normal and imperative. We must understand, too, that if that normal sexuality of the growing child is inhibited or tampered with, he may develop problems that may seem unrelated but are not. While I certainly do not encourage an over-emphasis on sex, neither can there be an under-emphasis. I have found it important and strong enough to use it as one of the first clues in seeking the reasons why young people act as they do in various areas. I think I can safely say that in at least eight out of every ten cases, sex has, indeed, been involved-either overtly or as a hidden cause of other types of behavior.
What this implies is that in order to fully understand youngsters we must understand their sexuality. Not only must we understand the normal developmental patterns, from infancy on, but we must understand what can happen to them when those developmental patterns are irregularly or incompletely allowed to develop. But above all, we must understand that sexuality is a vital part of their total existence; to repeat, it is as natural and as important to them as their breathing.
In this book you will see examples of sexual experimentation among teenagers. Many of the cases cited will perhaps give the reader the idea that the young people involved are abnormal, degenerate, or sexually psychopathic. Nothing could be farther from the truth. It is a perfectly normal part of growth and development for the child to experiment; with puberty, when his sexual apparatus, as it were, begins to function, the need to experiment not only continues but sometimes takes on new forms, new activities. As often as not the form of experimentation and the activities involved are the result of circumstances-the age of the participants, the individuals with whom he or she comes in contact, and what the past experiences of both parties (or more, when it is group activity) have been. Some young people, rare though they are especially in this day and age, go through adolescence without ever becoming involved in sexual experimentation other than that of an autoerotic nature (masturbation, solitarily satisfied fetishes, and so on); others participate in sexual experiences that would, to use an old cliche, make your hair curl. Again, the type, the form, is dependent on what the child and his environment are and have been, and the circumstances he finds himself in, as well as the people with whom he comes in contact. But sexual experimentation itself, especially from puberty onward, is a normal, natural, and generally healthy thing.
In order to stress this point, I might give you a couple of examples of young people who were not allowed this normal behavior. An attractive, well-developed teen-aged girl was brought to me recently. To all outward appearances she was a normal, healthy child-but she had become a kleptomaniac, a compulsive thief. Her parents were fairly well to do and had made restitution in the several thefts where the girl had been apprehended, but they were ridden now with shame, and fearful of what the future would bring. After several extensive interviews with the girl, I discovered that from a time just previous to her entry into puberty her mother had begun what could only be described as a concentrated campaign at turning the girl away from sex. She had made the girl almost ashamed of her own body, terrified by the "shameful" feelings that she sometimes experienced, and completely incapable of entering into the sex-play that is normal among growing children. The girl had used kleptomania for two purposes: she was subconsciously punishing her mother for what the mother had done to her, while at the same time experiencing "thrills" (the possibility of being caught) that gave her vicarious sexual pleasure. She admitted, in fact, that on several occasions she had experienced minor orgasms while in the process of stealing from department stores.
In another case a sixteen year old boy was on the verge of expulsion from school because of "constantly disruptive behavior in class, and being a bully outside the classroom." The description hardy matched the good-looking, almost timid and well-mannered boy who came to my office after we had reached the point where he could trust me. In the course of the interviews that follow, the true story was exposed. Just entering puberty, he had become almost overly conscious of his growing penis, and he masturbated quite frequently. His mother caught him on one occasion when he had neglected to lock the bathroom door, and the scene that followed was one that he remembered now only with difficulty. His father picked up where his mother left off once he had arrived home, and there were threats of cutting the boy's penis off if he were caught again at that or any other type of sexual behavior. But he was caught again. That time the father, using a different approach, showed him pictures of sexual organs that had been infected with venereal diseases-but implanted in the boy's mind the idea that it was the result of "kids messing around with sex before marriage!" The boy had been literally terrified, the parents successful in thwarting his normal interest in sexuality-but as he grew older and felt strong pulls toward others, especially with sexual connotations, he rebelled against those pulls. To give in would lead to horrible results, he was sure. He took another way out; he made himself generally disliked through poor behavior, and so was saved from the feelings that were trying to grow within him.
Those two cases merely indicate what can happen when a wrong approach to normal sexuality is taken. It would have been healthier for both of those youngsters, as it is for every youngster, to be allowed the experimentation that is not only natural but necessary. Those parents, as too many parents do, panicked at the thought of their children having sexual lives of their own prior to the socially acceptable sexuality after marriage (and, ironically enough, even parents who have experimented themselves as children and adolescents will panic as quickly!). They failed to realize, or to find out if they did not know, that their children were not "bad" and that they would in all probability go through the experimental phase and settle down as married, constructive citizens. Many parents are well-intentioned when they do that-they do not want to see their daughters pregnant or their sons responsible for pregnancy at too early an age-but the damage that they do is far greater than pregnancy or early marriage would be.
But to get back to the original subject. Experimentation is and always has been a normal part of development. It starts from the day of birth, when the baby touches parts of his own body and feels sensations; it continues as he grows and sees more of life. He will want to investigate other children to see if they have the same "things" on their bodies; he will investigate his parents' bodies whenever he gets the chance. As he gets older he will find the parts of his body that provide pleasurable sensations, and experiment not only with those body parts but with different methods of using them, different objects that might provide new feelings (for example, the mere process of defecating is pleasurable, therefore at one stage of development the child will experiment with his anus. One child of three almost drove his mother frantic by inserting various objects in his own anus, experimenting with the feelings of both insertion and extraction).
As the child sees things he will experiment more-and the things that he sees frequently include sex play and actual sexual activity by adults. Seeing, he will imitate. As often as not one child will draw another into experimentation because of the experiences he has had or witnessed. And so it goes ... until finally the child reaches puberty and literally blossoms out. Both boys and girls, at that time, have just passed the homosexual stage; now, as their sex organs are developing, or beginning to function (both internally and externally), they are more conscious of sex per se. They are interested in their own developing bodies, and in the bodies of those around them-as well as with the sensations that the human body can provide or be provided with. Little wonder, with their growing wisdom and growing bodies, that they will want to experiment. Man does, after all, seek pleasure.
Experimentation, then, is and always has been perfectly normal. I believe that it would be safe to say that everyone, including the religiously oriented, experiment at least to some extent as children. What has changed of late, however, is that our total societal attitudes toward sexuality have become more liberal, and there is more to arouse interest. People talk and act more freely-and while one family may be very careful and even strict about sexuality, the family next door may not be, so when the children of the two families get together one introduces the other to what he has seen or heard. Words that were not used in public previously have become a part of the normal language; children are aware of perversions, homosexuality, and other deviant sexual activities, whereas children of a generation or two ago may have gone through their entire lives without ever having heard of them. Being more liberal, and being vitally interested in everything about life, the teen-ager of today has a tendency to experiment as totally as possible.
One boy said to me recently, "You have to find out who you are and what you like. Nobody can tell you that, you have to find out for yourself. Me, I try everything I can, everything I hear about. I've tried pot, I took one LSD trip. I didn't like them, so I quit. I screwed a girl the usual way, another one dog-fashion. I let another boy suck my cock, then I sucked his. We took turns using each other's ass. I figure you have to try everything!" While that may sound extreme, it appears to be at least a trend-and, again, there is no reason to be nervous about it, to look at it as a weapon of destruction. With rare exception, the child who experiments is not hurt by it; he might be hurt if he did not. Unanswered questions can cause problems. Through experimentation questions are answered. And through experimentation an understanding of others may grow-a tolerance may be developed. Generally speaking, the individual goes through his "experimental phase"-which may last into his twenties-and then settles down to a normal, married life. There seems to be reason to believe that this actually helps to solidify the marriage; if both partners have experimented, answered all the questions that they might have encountered, they are more ready and able to settle down to a relationship that may be much more mutually satisfying.
For point of reference, I am not advocating the encouragement of unbridled sexual experimentation among the young. There are many who do not need a large amount of it, a wide variety. Actually, the need varies according to the individual. But I am saying that when the child feels the need to experiment, he should not be thwarted; he should either be provided with satisfactory (to him) reasons why he should not, or he should be allowed to do so with understanding and whatever precautions are necessary to protect him or her from other problems (i.e., pregnancy, venereal diseases, etc.).
In terms of that, and in order to better understand sexual experimentation among today's teenagers, let us turn now to actual case histories that will give insight into the reasons for, the varieties of, and the results of such sexual experimentation.
CHAPTER ONE
PUBERTY-THE AWKWARD AGE
Puberty means, simply, reaching the state of becoming capable of sexual reproduction. The sexual glands, which have been growing along with the rest of the child, begin to function in terms of that capability to reproduce-and this brings with it many other physical and psychological changes. Puberty is generally considered as the period between late childhood and adolescence. Specifically, according to American concepts, puberty begins at the age of twelve and continues to the age of fifteen, at which time the child is considered an adolescent.
In the simple words of one doctor, "Puberty is that period when a girl begins to become a woman, and a boy becomes a man." The body contour of the girl changes considerably, with the widening of the hips, the growth of her breasts from flat-chestedness to whatever proportions she might reach, growth of hair on her pubis and under her arms, and the beginning of her menstruation cycles. The boy also experiences changes in the contour of his body, with hair growing in the genital region as well as elsewhere on the body-but more importantly, his penis begins to grow larger, his testicles become more obvious and weigh more heavily between his legs. It is not uncommon for boys, especially, to begin having nocturnal emissions-more commonly known as "wet dreams." These may have special importance because they create agitation even while they come from agitation, and because they are the first evidence of "sexual secretion through a hard cock," as one boy put it, aware that he "shot that way" while having dreams of a sexual nature.
The beginning of menstruation for the girls and the occurrences of nocturnal emissions for the boys can have special importance to the individual, especially as regards psychological reaction to the normal developmental process. This is, after all, a new experience, and with it comes a self-awarenass that might have been lacking earlier. The youngster is only too aware of the developing body at this time, often a little frightened by what is happening-and so it is actually a crucial time. But regardless of what the reaction, the child is becoming a sexual being in the true sense of the word; his own mechanism, as it were, has begun to function, and he begins to think in terms of his opposite sex. Bluntly, he becomes sex conscious, fully aware of his own body and the bodies of others ... and interested in what sensations may come from those bodies.
There is perhaps more autoeroticism at this point than most people might think, but that, too, is only natural. The child is aware of his body; he explores it, he finds what it is capable of. The girl, in rubbing her vulva, in massaging her growing breasts, becomes aware of their sensitivity-of the pleasure that can be derived through those body parts. The boy finds himself getting erections easily and frequently, and he is concerned about the growth - the "thing" is getting bigger, and comments from around him make him only too aware of size. He watches and hopes, and meanwhile he manipulates and discovers the pleasures possible through that manipulation. Masturbation is common among both sexes. And as they think of the opposite sex it is in terms of their own sex-and the thoughts in turn lead to sexual excitement and therefore eroticism that leads frequently to masturbation. This is not self-love in the true sense of the word; it is finding pleasure through one's own body after thoughts of what could happen if another person were there.
But even at an early age, at the beginning, the draw is toward sexual experimentation. The awareness of the developing sexuality makes it even stronger. So boys look at girls and wonder, and girls look at boys and wonder, and whatever the circumstances allow, that is the type of experimentation that takes place. The following cases show some of the varieties, each defined by the particular set of circumstances. They, as are the rest of the cases in this book, are compiled from taped interviews with the youngsters involved.
The first boy, Johnny R., was twelve years old. He was a lithe, handsome looking youngster; dark-haired, large brown eyes framed by thick and long lashes, chiseled features, he gave every evidence of growing into "a lady killer." He was a well-mannered boy, and fastidious about his person. He reported:
I've known what goes on for a long time. My folks are the kind that think a kid ought to know, you know, so they told me. About the birds and the bees. A little while back my-dad came into the bathroom just after I'd gotten out of the shower; I grabbed for a towel, but he had given me the once-over before I got hold of it. So he sat down on the toilet, and he started in. "Well, Johnny, I see you're getting pretty big down there, aren't you? You're going to start understanding what your mother and I have been trying to tell you."
Heck, I was already understanding it! I guess I did develop a little faster than some of the other kids. I mean, I got hair down there before some of my pals, and ... well, you know we'd still done a little messing around, some of my buddies and I, and I guess I have to admit that I was bigger than most of them. Out at the swimming hole, where we swim naked, you could tell the difference there, too. My cock wasn't only getting bigger than theirs faster, but I was getting bigger balls.
Well, anyway, my folks had told me all this stuff, see. About girls are made this way and boys are made that way, and when the time is right the boy fits into her and plants the seed under her heart and the baby grows. I got to thinking quite a bit about that. I think I even thought about it at night, because I'd dream. I dreamed a lot about this teacher of mine who has big tits. I'd be sitting in my desk, looking up at her tits, than all of a sudden I'd be running my face into them and I'd have my cock between her legs the way my folks sort of talked about. Then I'd wake up and my cock would be hard, and there was all that mess. Sticky and all.
My old man told me about that, too, though. He said it was all right, boys did that. But I got to thinking ... Well, if boys fit into girls that way, and if it felt good-and I knew it must feel good, because I'd heard my folks at night sometimes-then I figured that if I did it to a girl I wouldn't do it in my sleep that way. At least I think that's what I had in mind. Anyway, there was a girl in our class who was developing pretty fast, too. She wore tight sweaters and skirts, and you could see she was getting tits already. Nothing like my mother's or my teacher's, but they were still beginning to swell out.
So I started thinking about them quite a bit, and ... well, you know, my buddies would have made fun of me if they knew, so I had to work it cool
(Author's note: At that age, at the onset of puberty, youngsters still aren't fully out of the homosexual period, and they are only beginning to grapple with the behavior necessary for intermingling with the opposite sex. Johnny had a valid point when he mentioned that his friends would have made fun of him if they had seen him pursuing a girl. For the next couple of years all of the youngsters would be fluctuating back and forth-drawn first to their own sex, reaching out for the opposite. That, too, is part of the developmental pattern.)
Well, I started talking to this girl when I could, getting to know her a lot better, and finally one day I asked her if I could come by her house. She said it was okay, so I did. There wasn't anybody there but her and I, and I got a little scared, but id made up my mind so I went ahead with it. We talked a little bit, then I couldn't figure any other way to do it, so I asked her if she'd show me a little bit about how to dance. She put on a record, then when we got together-well, I could actually feel her tits more, and my pecker got hard right away. I kept rubbing it up against her. I got real brave and kissed her, and she isn't like a lot of girls. She kissed me right back. She even stuck her tongue in my mouth.
I didn't care what happened then. I stuck my hand out and just started feeling her tits while we were kissing, and she didn't even care. She even liked it, I think, because she made some funny noises that sounded like it. I could feel the nipples and all, they got real hard. Then I felt her hand down on my pecker, and she was really feeling it. Not just playing around with it the way I do, but feeling it. I could tell that she probably hadn't really seen one, she was sort of trying to "see" it with her fingers, so I asked her, why didn't we get naked so we could see each other.
We went up to her bedroom and we did. Got naked, I mean. Then we took turns looking at each other real close. First I looked at her tits and played with them, even kissed them a couple of times, then I looked between her legs. She was getting hair there, she was puffed up. I rubbed it all, then I ran my finger up and down that slit; she really liked that. Her legs pulled up and spread apart, and the slit opened a little. That got me excited, so I touched it more, then I spread it apart and looked inside. I could see ... well, I didn't get to see a lot, because she pulled away then and said it was her turn. So I laid on my back, and she got between my legs, and she really gave my pecker a going over. She pulled the skin up over the head, then slid it back down, then she'd bend it one way and another. She got hold of my balls and played with them a little.
Finally I said to her, "You know what we're supposed to do?"
She giggled and pretended she didn't, so I told her to lay on her back. When she was like that I got on top of her. Well, I didn't know what to do, so I just stuck my pecker in her. It ... well, it felt a little funny at first, and she said it hurt a little. She said it felt like I'd broken something. Then one of us started wiggling, and man, that was all it took, because that felt good. It was sort of like her slit was my hand, jacking me off. She liked it, too, because she kept moving her hips. You know, raising up off the bed so my whole pecker went into her, then lying down again. Then I started that. I mean, I pushed my pecker into her, then pulled it most of the way out, then stuck it in again. Man, that really felt good, and she liked it, too. I kept doing that, and I started kissing her on her tits again. The first thing you know, I was real excited, I was pushing it in and out of her as fast as I could, then I shot inside her. Boy, oh boy, that was really something!
Well, a couple of nights later I was staying at this friend's house. He and I have been pals for a long time, we've done a lot of things together. To tell the truth, we've talked about things like that quite a bit, and a couple of times we even jacked each other off. Well, this night I told him I'd screwed a girl, and he didn't believe me, but I told him all about it anyway. Both our peckers got hard, but when it came to jacking off I said no, we ought to do it another way. I rubbed his butt and told him that in some ways it felt a little bit like she had felt between the legs, he ought to let me stick my pecker in there. Well, he did, and it felt pretty good-it even felt better in some ways than it had felt in her. I guess partly because of the way his butt is, the big cheeks. Anyway, I shot off a load into him that way, then I let him do it to me. I liked that, too. I liked it almost as much as doing it to her.
Well, this girl, I guess she got the feeling we were married or something, because she started talking to me a lot at school and wanting me to come over again. Just talking to her, my pecker would get hard. So one afternoon when I could, I went over there. This time we didn't waste any time, we just went up to her room and took our clothes off. But this time she wanted to do something different-she said she had heard her folks doing it, talking about it while they were doing it. What it was, we laid on the bed end for end. I mean, her feet were up one way and mine the other. First thing I knew, she'd taken my pecker in her mouth, she was sucking on it. Well, her thing was right there in front of me, so I looked at it, played with it a little, then I didn't know what else I could do, so I just stuck my tongue in it the way I'd stuck my pecker. She really liked that; she pushed herself closer to me, and at the same time she sucked on my cock all the faster. Well, I kept sticking my tongue in and out of her, just like it was my pecker, and she kept sucking on my pecker, and then both of us were getting pretty excited. I couldn't help myself, before I knew it was happening even, I shot off a load into her mouth. But she was humping, too, and I tasted something, so I guess she'd shot off, too. I dunno, I don't know how girls shoot off. But I think she did.
After that ... Well, to tell the truth, I think about it a lot, and I get hard every time I think about it, so I guess I jack off quite a bit. But in between times, every once in a while my buddy and I stay at one house or the other, and we do that again-and every once in a while she and I get together and we do one or the other of those things. I suck her tits a lot, too, because she likes that-she likes to have me suck her tits and rub her between the legs at the same time, using my finger like a pecker. We try all kinds of things. The only thing that worries me ... well, once in awhile when I shoot, there isn't an awful lot there. I get afraid I might be wearing it out too soon. I sure hope not. That's the only thing that worries me.
Johnny, with partial information from his parents, is finding out what sex is all about! With the mixture of hetero-and homosexual activities, along with an admitted excess in masturbation, he is probably more active than the average-but still it is not necessarily detrimental. Nature usually has a way of taking care of those things; as he develops more, his sexual appetite will drop off, and he will forgo masturbation for experiences with other persons. In a sense, at this period youngsters are often like a child with a new toy. Having found out the pleasure of sexual experience, while it is new to them they may be slightly over-active-but, unless there is a psychological abnormality, the interest will lessen as it would with the toy! Sexuality will cease to stand out, will become an integral part of life.
Kathy S. came to my attention through a newspaper article. Two young men, eighteen and nineteen years old, had rented a house in a relatively quiet neighborhood. Neighbors soon complained that the traffic to and from the house, especially on weekends, was almost harassing, with a great number of "kids" gathering there. An investigation revealed that Kathy S., thirteen years old, was the center of attraction. Before the investigation was over it was learned that the thirteen year old girl had experienced sexual relations with over one hundred boys and young men. Her story, of course, interested me and I made arrangements for a series of interviews. The full story unfolded:
Around my place you don't even say "darn." If you mention sex or anything about it, my mother would probably faint dead away. My dad is ... well, he's a nothing! My mother controls him. Honest to God, I don't know how they had me; I don't think she ever lets him do anything.
I guess I started my periods a little earlier than most girls, I was about ten. The first time ... oh, man! The day before, I had messed around with the neighbor boy a little, the way kids will do, you know, so when that started-when I saw that blood! I thought my mother was right, I'd done something wrong and God was punishing me. I worried about it for a long time, got so quiet that one day my teacher kept me after school and asked what the matter was. I finally started crying, and she got the whole story out of me. Well, she set me straight, told me the truth. What a relief that was!
This teacher really gave me the whole picture, told me what I could expect to happen, so I started watching for it. And she was right. Every month that happened. But more than that. I started getting hair all between my legs, and my breasts began to change, to swell. Every day when I got home from school I'd go in the bathroom, strip down, and look to see if anything new had happened. Then ... well, I started thinking about boys a lot. I'd lay in bed at night and think about them, and rub my body. I'd put both hands on my breasts and pretend they were a boy's hands, all that, and rub between my legs. I still ... well, I only half-way knew exactly what went on when you did get with a boy.
One night ... I must have been almost twelve by then, and I'd grown a lot-you know, I was almost completely covered down there with hair and my breasts were pretty big ... Anyway, my mother went to Church Guild on Tuesday nights, and she had gone this night. Sitting there alone with my dad, looking at him while he was reading the paper and I was supposed to be doing homework, I suddenly got an idea. I ... well, you see, I wanted to see what boys really were like. Big boys. Men. Anyway, I pretended I'd finished my homework and told him I was going to bed, but instead of going to bed I went into their room and hid in the closet. He doesn't wait up for my mother, and he didn't that night. He came into the bedroom and undressed. I almost died! I mean, my heart was beating something terrific while I watched him undress, I was scared and excited both. He has a pretty good build even if he is hen-pecked, and when he was clear naked ... well, my eyes almost fell out! There was that huge thing hanging there, long and full, and big balls hanging below it. He reached down and rubbed it a little, sort of scratching, and I felt a funny kind of warm feeling go through my whole body. To tell the truth, I ... I wanted to go out there and feel it, play with it, see what it was like up close.
Well, I didn't, of course, but I couldn't .ret it out of my mind. Even in class, I'd sit there trying to concentrate, but my mind would drift away and I'd see his big-well-prick. I ... well, the truth is, I knew it had something to do with going between my legs, but I had a different kind of feeling about it. I mean, I felt a tickling kind of feeling there, but I had mouth-feelings more. Like I ... like I wanted to love it with my mouth.
Not long after that my mother seemed to notice me for the first time-really notice me, I mean. I'd put on a sweater and skirt and she ... well, she didn't like it. Without saying exactly what she meant, she said that I had to get more decent clothes. We went shopping, and all the clothes she bought were things that hid me. I mean, they were loose and all, my breasts didn't show, that sort of thing. I couldn't take that. No boy would look at a girl with that kind of clothes; I sensed that if I didn't know it. So I worked out a deal with a girl friend. I left my skirts and sweaters at her house, and every morning I stopped there and changed clothes before going to school.
This girl friend was a year older than me, and she had already filled out real good. She had even ... Well, she had even done it with a boy. Finally, one day, she said that she had fixed up a date for me with a boy for that Saturday night, there would be four of us. I was actually frightened, but I really wanted to go. I knew mother wouldn't let me, so I pretended to go to bed early but sneaked out the window.
The boys were older. Her date was almost twenty, my date was eighteen, a real nice boy named Kenny. We went to a drive-in movie, Kenny and I in the backseat. The movie had hardly started before he put his arm around me and pulled me up against his chest; I knew that I ought to pull away, but I couldn't. It felt real good, he even smelled good. Then I felt his hand on my tit, and I couldn't even stop him from doing that. It felt too good, the way he sort of worked it, then played with the nipple, tweaking it between his fingers. He had his lips against my throat, then his hand worked its way up under my blouse. It felt so good that when he whispered for me to loosen my bra I didn't even wait, I loosened it. He got his hand right on the flesh and it was really terrific. When he played with the nipples I almost went out of my mind. Then ... I ... just automatically, I guess, I put my hand on his leg, at his crotch, and I felt his hardness. It sort of scared me, but it fascinated me, too-I guess I knew then without knowing it that a boy's prick has to get hard before it can go in you. "Take it out," he whispered against my ear. "Go ahead. Take it out and play with it the way I'm playing with your tits."
Well ... well, I took it out, pulled it out of his pants, and my heart was beating so hard I thought it was going to pound right through my chest. I could feel all of that hard hotness; it was so big that when I wrapped my fingers around it, almost half was still left out. I felt it, using the palm of my hand first and then my fingers. I felt the huge head, like it was just set on top of the rest of it, and the whole, thick shaft with a heavy vein in it. I had that feeling I'd had before-you know, my mouth wanted it. Finally I whispered to him, asked him if I could kiss it. He laughed and said sure, then he pushed away from me a little and pulled one leg up. I got hold of that big thing at the base, only half-seeing it because it was nearly dark-but I could see it! I lowered my head and touched it with my lips, then kissed it. I don't know, my tongue just seemed to know what to do; it moved out and sort of licked it all around. "Jesus!" he said, then he told me to wait.
He pulled his pants and shorts down around his ankles and sat back again. I could really see it now, it was even bigger now that his pants and shorts were out of the way. And ... well, I just seemed to know what to do. I played with it with my hand a little, wrapping my fingers around it and stroking it, then I felt between his legs for his big sack. His balls were loose in it, the size of big olives. I was using both hands now, one on his balls and the other on his prick, and it all seemed right, I didn't think about anything else. Then he told me to kiss it again, so I did. Kissed it, my tongue licked it again, then I felt his hands on my head. They put on pressure, pushing my face down; I opened my mouth and felt his huge thing sliding in. "Jesus," he said again, "I'd planned on fucking you, but this is better yet!"
I don't know, I just seemed to know naturally what to do. I mean, I got my lips in the right shape, and I started moving them up and down on that big thing. I'd take as much of it into my mouth as I could, slide off it, try to swallow it again. I'd kiss the head, then go back at it. It gave me a sort of tickling feeling in my tits, between my legs. Then ... well, I felt it getting even harder, he started moving his hips. When my mouth would go down he'd rear up. It was so big that I finally wrapped my fingers around it between us, so he could slide it in and out without it choking me. That's what we did then, me sucking and him pushing it up and down, until all of a sudden he grabbed my head with both hands again, let out a cry, and I felt some thick liquid shooting into my mouth. The way he held my head, I had to swallow it; I almost choked, his cock was so big and he was shooting out so much, but I managed to swallow it all even with his big thing in my mouth.
We met the next weekend-I had sneaked out of the house again-but Kenny had already made arrangements. His friend let us off at the house they share, and they went on alone-his friend and my girl friend, I mean. He and I went in, and he didn't waste any time; he put his arms around me and kissed me, and he was already hard. We went right into the bedroom and undressed, and it was really nice, being clear naked and lying there with him. We kissed and rubbed our bodies together, felt each other, and I really liked it. I liked everything he did-rubbing and kissing my tits, sticking his big thing up between my legs. Then he pushed me onto my back and moved down between my legs. He sort of sat there on his haunches for a minute, looking down at me. Then he rubbed me a little, finally he leaned over and started kissing me all around there. It almost drove me mad, it felt so wonderful. He kissed and licked, then he ran his tongue all up and down it, pushing it against me. I was really wiggling around, it felt so good. Then he stiffened his tongue and started pushing it in, moving it up and down at the same time; he forced it through, I felt it spreading me, then I guess we both felt the contact at the same time. He raised his head and looked down at me. "Jesus," he said, "I didn't know you were a virgin! I thought...."
He shook his head, and I didn't understand. "Look, honey, if we don't do this right it could hurt the hell out of you." He laid beside me, then, and his hand went between my legs. He played and played with me; it felt so good that I spread my legs. He ran his finger inside me, then sort of ran it all around the edges like he was trying to stretch me. I guess he was; he was getting me ready. Final ly he said, "Well, you're feeling pretty juicy in there now, maybe we can work it." But first he got up and rubbed some kind of greasy stuff on his stiff thing. Then he got between my legs and spread them with his hands. Watching my face, he rubbed the head of it against me several times, pushing it deeper. Finally he started the head in, spreading me, hurting me. But it felt good at the same time. I could feel the entire head inside, it seemed to be touching something. He looked into my eyes again for a second. "Honey, I'm going to pop you! It might hurt for a couple of seconds, but just hold tight, you'll like it!"
He popped me, all right! He'd been slow and gentle up until then, but now with a quick motion he pushed that whole huge thing into me. I let out a scream and raised half-way off the bed, but he'd been right, the pain lessened. I could only feel a sort of dull ache, and all his bigness in me. Then he started moving slowly up and down, pumping that big thing in me the way he had done with my hand and mouth the week before. He stretched out so that his chest barely touched my tits and our mouths were together, we were French kissing. After that ... well, after that it was just a slow trip to heaven. He kept driving his big thing in and out of me, and it felt great, I felt real good. Then he started driving it faster, and I felt things happening to me, too. Now every time he pushed into me, I raised up to meet it, I took it in as far as it would go. Our lips were pressed together, our tongues were busy in each other's mouths, and that fantastic feeling grew, grew, grew! I felt his big prick throb and spit, but at the same time I felt something let loose from me. I jerked and groaned and almost went mad with the pleasure of it.
It was honest to God great, and I felt happier than I'd ever felt in my life. Not only then, but in the days that came. I thought I was in love with Kenny, and I thought he was in love with me, and what we were doing seemed all right. Nobody knew about it, it wasn't hurting anybody. I felt ... well, I guess I felt like I was a woman, like I knew what the world was all about now, and I figured that as soon as school was out-I mean, when I graduated-Kenny and I would get married and five happily ever after.
(Author's note: At that point Kathy had experimented as she had had to, and according to prevailing circumstances. Having had her sexuality awakened, she had learned what she had had to learn about it. The situation went out of control after that only because of what her past had been her own psychological preparation for it-and of what Kenny was. At the same time, Kenny was in his own way experimenting, albeit he had obviously already had sexual experiences that had made him knowledgeable far beyond what many adult males reach. Further, the hundred or so boys who trekked through the house after that, using Kathy as a sex object, were in their own way experimenting-some of them, older though they were, admitted that it had been their first experience. For some it was a first experience in penis-vagina intercourse, for others in mouth-penis and/or mouth-vagina intercourse, etc.)
The next weekend when they came to pick me up my girl friend wasn't along. Kenny's roommate passed it off by saying that they had had a fight, and I didn't think anything about it. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't what happened. We went to their house, you see, and sat in the living room a few minutes while the boy had a drink. In the middle of that Kenny suggested that we all undress. I was embarrassed, but he ... well, he has a way of making me do whatever he wants, whether I want to or not. So we undressed, and before they had their clothes off they both had hard pricks. The other boy's wasn't as big as Kenny's, but it was still a pretty good sized one.
Kenny and I were sitting side by side on the divan, he had his arm around me and told me to go ahead and play with his prick, his buddy didn't care. Well, I did, fondling it, stroking it a little-I liked him and I liked it enough that I probably would have played with it in the middle of the street if he told me to! Then he said to his roommate, "You want to taste something good, old buddy? Get between Kathy's legs here."
He did! He got between my legs and spread them apart with his hands, then he buried his head in my crotch. I felt his tongue going all around me, licking the skin, kissing, going into me a little. Kenny seemed to be getting a real kick out of watching it, he was smiling down at his roommate. He was playing with my tits with one hand at the same time, and that always gets to me-so I was sort of embarrassed by what the boy was doing down there, even though it felt good, but liking what Kenny was doing. Anyway, Kenny finally said that we should go into the bedroom, and we did. In there, he told me to lie on my back, and I did. The other boy moved up between my legs, and I felt him kissing and tonguing all around there again, then Kenny had straddled me and his big thing was over my face; "Suck it!" he ordered, and I sucked it. Got hold of it and pulled it down so that I could get my lips over it. So while the other boy kept busy on me, I kept busy on Kenny-and Kenny, meanwhile, had reached out and taken the other boy's prick in his hand and was stroking it. After awhile ... well, we ... we all three climaxed, it was really something.
The next weekend there seemed to be no question. Kenny picked me up, and when we got to their house his roommate was there, already naked. He started getting hard almost as soon as we walked in the door, so I guess I knew right then that we were going to do the same thing again. Kenny told me to undress, and he undressed, then we played around a while in the living room while they had a couple of drinks. We were just about to go into the bedroom when someone knocked on the door. It was a friend of theirs. Kenny invited him in....
Each weekend Kathy pretended to go to bed but sneaked out. She met Kenny on a corner and they wont to the house he shared with his roommate. The girl still felt herself in love with Kenny, preferred him to all others, but submitted to a growing number of friends-and to a growing variety of sex activities-"because Kenny wanted me to. I was afraid that if I said no he wouldn't have anything more to do with me." She admitted that many of them were "exciting," interesting variations. The boys, or young men, themselves obviously took great delight in their experimentations-in trying to find new and different ways in which to find sexual pleasure.
The following, briefer interviews give examples of typical experimentations by youngsters during this age of puberty when so many things are happening to them both internally and externally. Some of them are perhaps more understandable when we realize that this is, as it has been nicknamed, the "awkward age." With growth being so rapid and the bodies of both sexes changing quickly, young people actually have difficulty in handling themselves. This is due in part to their self-consciousness and anxieties; indeed, they have to get used to the changes in themselves. The girls must face menstruation, boys are plagued by voice changes that frequently cause them embarrassment; both are extremely aware of their own and the bodies of others, and feel that others (including adults) are looking at them critically. They frequently are embarrassed by the changes in their bodies, and some-not understanding and unable to ask-are even frightened. As Kathy mentioned, the beginning of menstruation for a girl can be terrifying-she thinks that something terrible has happened to her, that she is diseased. The boy's "wet dreams" can frighten him. But still, because of the awakening of their sexuality, they must experiments-and through that experiment they eventually adjust.
Sarah L. I knew the difference between boys and girls, everybody does, but I started seeing things different. I got real nervous about my body, didn't want anybody to see me because I was growing hair between my legs and my bosoms were beginning to puff out. I hadn't thought about boys a lot, but now I did; I'd look at boys' crotches a lot and wonder what was there-I mean, exactly what each boy's thing was like. I'd go to the library and look in books, those medical books that show diagrams, and there were some pictures ... You know that one that shows God giving Adam life by touching his finger? Well, it shows Adam's thing real good, only it wasn't very big. There were some pictures of statues that show them better. I ... I'd get real funny feelings looking at them. You know, like ... well, like wishing I could really see one, and feeling a tingling between my legs.
One night ... one night I was lying in bed thinking, sort of dreaming, about some boy telling me he loved me. I sort of made up a story. I told him that if he loved me he'd let me see his thing, and he did. He took his pants off and I could see it. At the same time I was rubbing between my legs without thinking about it, really, but then I started getting this real good feeling. I rubbed more, and I ... I felt up inside myself. It felt good. I stuck my finger clear up in there and it felt real good. Then I sort of moved my finger in and out and it felt even better.
The next night ... it almost embarrasses me to tell it, but you asked! The next night we had wieners and sauerkraut for dinner, and it was like a plate full of boy's things. I don't know how I got the idea, but after dinner I sneaked one into my room. I used it instead of my finger that night, and the feeling was real good. I kept pushing it in and out and it was better than anything I'd ever felt. I finally was breathing real hard and my hips were moving up and down, then I felt like stars were flying around in my head and I was all moist down there.
I really wanted to find out what it would be like with a boy, but I was afraid to. The next thing I used was a carrot; I found one that was bigger than a wiener and it looked shaped right, so I used it. I got the same results, that really wonderful feeling, but at the same time I felt sort of guilty. I knew if anybody knew I'd just die of shame!
Finally a boy asked me to go out with him. I don't know if he had anything in mind or not, but I was really conscious of him. I mean, I couldn't quit thinking about ... about his thing, what he had there between his legs. We went to a movie, but I couldn't even keep my mind on it, I was just thinking about that! When he didn't do anything, I finally took hold of his hand. It embarrassed him at first, I could tell, but he finally relaxed a little-and he kept his eyes straight ahead, on the screen. I was burning; my cheeks were hot and everything, but I just had to keep going. I finally moved our hands so they were in his lap, and I could feel his thing under mine. It was real hard and ... and my heart was beating something terrible. The boy was trying to pretend like he didn't notice anything, like he was watching the movie. I finally got real bold; I let loose of his hand and took hold of his thing. I guess he almost died!
I couldn't get a really good feel of it, because he had shorts on and all, but what I could feel surprised me. It was bigger than any of those in the pictures, as big as the ones on the statues, and he was only fourteen. And playing with it like that, well, I felt ... I got all moist again.
The movie ended and we left, but I noticed that the boy was real nervous and didn't want to look at me. When we got to my house he acted like he was just going to turn and run, so I said to him, "Aren't you going to kiss me goodnight?"
He stammered and stuttered, so I just put my arms around his neck and started to kiss him. The poor kid almost died again, but something was forcing me to do all that. Finally I guess it got to him, because he put his hands on my body, under my arms, and started rubbing me. It was real nice, I really felt good, and when I pressed in against him I could tell he'd gotten hard again. He had his hands up by my boobs and was rubbing the sides of them, and we were really kissing! I knew ... I just knew that I had to have that thing in me that night.
He was scared, but I talked him into it. I went into the house, spoke to my parents and told them I'd had a good time, but I was going to bed. Then I opened my bedroom window and he climbed in. We kissed a little more, then we undressed in the dark, and ... and, well, it was just terrific! I felt his whole body, and he was feeling mine, and I guess it was the first time for both of us. He played with my tits and I played with his thing, and it was real nice. It was as long as the wiener I had used, but thicker, and the way it was made ... well, it was real fascinating to feel it. The head of it, I mean, sort of like an apricot and bigger around than the rest, then the skin wrinkled up the way it was, and finally that long, finger-like thing.
I guess he'd heard things, knew what to do, because he finally laid down on top of me-not hard, but still on top of me, and he reached down and got his thins stuck cut straight, then he started pushing it into mc. He thought it was going to hurt me, but he didn't know that I had already gotten myself ready for it; as it slid in I felt a completely drooly feeling. The deeper it went in, the more it stretched me, the more I liked it. Then I felt his balls against my legs, and I knew he had it all the way in. It felt better than I had even thought it would. Then ... then he started slipping it in and out, and that felt even better. We were really kissing now, our tongues in each other's mouths and all, and he was playing with my tits as best he could, and all kinds of things came alive in me. I started working with him, raising myself up over his thing as he shoved it down into me. It was really great, then we both were sucking on each other's mouths and thrashing around, because stuff was shooting out of his thing and I was melting inside. That was the greatest feeling I'd ever had, the really greatest. I wished he'd never have to take his thing out of me; I just wanted to lie there forever with it in there. Even after it got soft.
The next day he asked me to go steady with him, and we've been going steady ever since. Every once in a while ... maybe once a month or so ... he comes over and I let him in my bedroom window and we do that again. I know my folks would die if they knew it, but ... well, I like it and it's sure better than using other things. And besides, we love each other.
Patrick H. My dad isn't like a lot of guys' dads. He and I have always been pals, and he never has tried to hide things from me. Like when we went camping or something, I'd see him naked and he wouldn't make a big thing out of it. But I think I was impressed all the time, anyway, by the size of his cock, the way his balls hung down. That's part of why I was real pleased when I noticed hair was beginning to grow around mine, and that it was getting bigger. I kept hoping it would get as big lb his. I used to lie in bed at night and stretch it, you know, pull it down as far as I could, hoping if I did that it would get real big. Then it started getting hard more often, and instead of just stretching it I'd be jerking it off, it felt real good. But one time ... well, it felt even better than it usually had, then it spit out a little on my hand. It really scared the hell out of me, I thought I'd broken something inside or something.
But like I said, my dad and I are pals, so I asked him. He just laughed, then he gave me the scoop, but he told me that I shouldn't play with myself that way. He told me what the feeling was, and what the fluid was, and said that when the time was right I'd start putting it to better use. We'd talked about it some before, but he told me in more detail about the way both men and women are made. I mean, what their bodies are all about. He didn't pussy-foot; he explained that his cock sometimes got hard, that he inserted it in my mother, and that it "spit out" that way, too.
Well, he had erased my fears, but he didn't do anything about the feelings I was getting more and more. I'd lie there at night and think about what he had said, imagine myself doing the same thing, and my cock would get hard but I'd tell myself that I wasn't going to play with it. I'd really try hard net to. One night I just rolled over on my belly, but that turned out to be a mistake; the friction of the sheet on my cock gave me tingly feelings. I started humping, and before I knew it I'd shot off all over the mattress!
Couple of nights later, thinking again about what he had said, I pushed my pillows together. That made what it seemed to me he had described a woman was, and what I'd remembered seeing on little girls. Anyway, I stuck my cock down between them, pulled them up real tight with my legs, and started humping. But I remembered what had happened the last time. I couldn't think of anything else, so I put one of my socks over my cock, then I got back in that position and humped my way to a real juicy, terrific climax!
Well, I don't think anybody really wants to just play with themselves. I talked it over with a buddy of mine, and he agreed-but in the talking we got real sexy, both of us got hard-ons. We ended up stripping down and messing around, and the next thing we were lying with him on top of me and our pricks up between our bellies. We both used our bodies that way, fucking, you know, and it worked. We shot off something terrific!
The next step, naturally, was to want to do it with a girl. I guess ... oh, I don't know how long all of that had taken, but I was pretty big by that time. The hair had gotten pretty thick, and while my cock wasn't as big as my dad's, it was well on the way to being. I looked at other guys in the gym, and I could hold my own with any of them! Mine wasn't the biggest, but it was bigger than a heck of a lot of them, even soft. I'd found out, of course, that you couldn't really tell from that-I've seen guys with real little ones, but when they get hard they're like big old sausages, and I've seen guys with big ones that don't get any bigger when they get hard. You notice those things, y'know.
Anyway, this buddy and I, we started working on this girl. We talked to her a lot, made her feel real good, walked between classes with her. Then one day we talked her into going with us over to his house, because his folks work, there's nobody there during the day. We were acting only friendly, but then we started talking about sex. Dumb things, you know, but enough to get her interested. Then we horsed around a little, but we finally got to where we were taking turns kissing her and feeling her up. The next thing you know we were all three naked, and we really went into action. We tried all kinds of things. Like I'd be kissing her on the mouth and feeling her tits while he messed around with her pussy, even licking it and all; then we'd switch around. Then we took turns letting her suck on us a little, but while she was sucking on one guy the other guy would be teasing her pussy. It was pretty wild! Then we ended up taking turns screwing her, and man, after having my cock up that tight pussy I wasn't about to use pillows or anything else!
I don't mean I'm a sex-maniac or anything like that, but after that I took every chance I could get, and did anything anyone wanted to do. Like I said, I'd get to thinking about things, and going with someone else was a lot better than jerking yourself off or using other things. This buddy and I, we'd hear someone say something, we'd want to try it, we'd keep at it until we got the chance. But we don't let that interfere with other things-I mean, we keep up with our schoolwork, we've gone out for sports, and we do a lot of things where there's no sex involved, but neither one of us passes up a chance.
There are some things that we only do once. You know, you hear about them, you want to see what they're like, but once you've done them you find out they're not your cup of tea. Like ... well, like a guy wanted to blow me once, so I let him. I liked it, it felt great, but I wouldn't want to go back for seconds. And one girl, she only likes sixty-nines, so I went the route with her a couple of times and really liked it, but when I found out it was all she liked to do I quit going around there. And now that I've done just about everything, well, I'm sort of settling back and just taking straight screwing as it comes along.
Thus we see that sexual experimentation is almost inevitable. The developing youngster cannot help being aware of his body, of the changes that are taking place, and through that awareness he is stimulated-both mentally and physically. Masturbation, by both sexes, is a natural result. But it is equally natural to become aware of and interested in the opposite sex-and to try to find out what sexuality between the two sexes is all about. This is normal and healthy, and, as was said earlier, the individuals usually taper off and eventually sex becomes a more casual, integral part of their total fives. But not, as we will see, before they go through adolescence.
CHAPTER TWO
ADOLESCENCE-A GENERAL VIEW
By the time the youngster reaches adolescence-roughly fourteen years of age for the starting point-he is well on his way to full development. While his body is still growing, still filling out, his sexual apparatus has gone through the preliminary stages and is almost totally functional. Pubic and axillary hair has thickened, the girl's breasts are large, and the boy's penis has lengthened and filled out, his testicles grown heavy and dropped. The youngsters are no longer children; they are pre-adults.
The adolescent period continues from the age of fourteen to twenty-one. During that time the individual is supposed to decide on what type of work he will want to do as an adult-but more important, he (I) must free himself from his parents and become an individual on his own, (2) learn to adjust to the opposite sex, which includes finding solutions to his "love life," and (3) bring about an integration of his total personality so that he may become a more mature and responsible adult. Having become aware of his sexuality and of the sexuality of others, he must come to grips with it and eventually assume his proper role in a monogamous society. This he does through further experimentation-or, if experimentation was lacking during puberty, by beginning it. (For point of reference, this is speaking of the ideal-of what may be assumed as the ultimate goal. Very few people ever reach total maturity.)
So far as sexuality is concerned, experimentation and elaboration is a natural part of adolescent sexual behavior. Adults may express concern, see the "younger generation" as well on its way to hell and destruction, but the fact remains that in order to become a mature adult it is almost imperative for the adolescent to experiment. For some the need is simple and easily met; others require a great deal more. One boy may masturbate, copulate and settle down, while another will find it necessary to experience every possible form of sexual activity, including some of the most deviant. The same is true of girls.
Along the way, because of what their previous lives have been, some youngsters will pull further and further away from the norm-that is, from normal heterosexuality. One may become a homosexual, another a sexual psychopath; still another may find sexual gratification through one type of fetish or another. Those occurrences are not the result of experimentation per se; they are the result of what the child has been taught to be. If his background has been relatively normal and healthy, the average individual will experiment with sex, even to the most extreme and perverse types, and still move toward normal heterosexuality.
As was mentioned earlier, the adolescent of today learns about sex much earlier than his parents did, is more liberal in his thinking, and has far more opportunity for experimentation. The sequence of masturbation through copulation to marriage was the norm a generation or so ago; for today's youth that is seldom enough. More doors have been opened, and they must look through each of those doors as they search for their own form of adjustment. Questions are implanted in their minds that would have shocked their parents; for those questions to go unanswered can cause later problems. The adolescent is almost compelled to find the answers now, this very day, and then move on.
The older generation is frequently perplexed by this, chiefly because they cannot adjust to it or fully understand it. They are unnecessarily perplexed. The big fears of "sexual freedom" have to a large extent been removed; the Pill and other contraceptives make pregnancy avoidable, and the liberality which has freed the mind makes it possible for the individual to experiment with variations, including deviations, and still remain basically heterosexual-and evolve as a heterosexual person. In the words of one young man, "Hell, I can let a guy suck my cock and thoroughly enjoy it, but that doesn't make me queer. I find myself a woman right after that and I'm all man again!"
At any rate, during adolescence the individual has developed. His body will continue to develop, but his sexual powers and abilities are already not only well developed but in top shape! It is really one of the most wonderful periods of life, though ridden with many problems. But the individual has strong powers, a great interest, and the ability to perform sexually better than he will be able to at any other time in his life. Little wonder that he is anxious to experiment with those powers, eager to see what pleasures are available. Aware of that beautiful mechanism, the human body, little wonder that he must discover all of its capabilities.
So, then, we might call adolescence the great period of sexual experimentation, that period during which each individual may find out for himself what he and his body are, what the capabilities are, and enjoy many pleasures before settling down to a more mature, stable life.
Cory L. was an example of a clean-cut, good-looking young teenager (seventeen) with a vital interest in life. He was an average student, active in sports and editor of the school newspaper. He worked in a grocery store part time. To all appearances, he was a typical, healthy, maturing individual-an epitome of young manhood if there ever was one. Some of those who would so praise him, however, would have been shocked if they had known the facts of his private life-because in his youthfulness, in his zest for life, Cory not only passed up no opportunity to experiment in sex, he created many. He told his story frankly:
My mother and I live alone. My dad died when I was real young. She's still a very attractive person, nicely built, so I wasn't "protected" or "kept blind" the way some kids like that are. I mean, she had her boyfriends in, and I knew what was going on even before I actually knew what it was. She wasn't promiscuous or anything like that, but if she liked a guy he stayed over night, and he didn't sleep on the couch! Being young like that, too, they were usually good-looking and well-built guys. I can remember seeing some of them in their shorts, or in the bathroom naked, and they were pretty sharp guys. My mother had an eye for physical beauty; she didn't go for any slobs.
I remember when I was about twelve or thirteen some guy stayed for over a week. My mother passed him off as a visiting relative and the neighbors accepted that. She'd go to work every day, I'd go to school, life was pretty normal, except that he just happened to be there. Well, one afternoon when I got home he was sprawled out on the couch reading, and he was stark naked. That didn't particularly bother me, but I couldn't help but stare at the hard-on he had. Man, it was really something! He sort of had his hand wrapped around the base of it, his fingers lying over his balls, and it stuck up like an obelisk! When he finally woke up to the fact that I was staring at him he just laughed, gave it a couple of jerk-off motions, and then asked if I'd never seen a hard-on before. I don't know why, but seeing his, I'd gotten one of my own-about half the size of his, though, maybe even less!
Anyway, he started talking about sex. Told me a lot of things he'd done, and there were some pretty wild stories! Said he was telling me because I was getting old enough I'd start getting interested, I might as well know what went on in the world. Later on, after I'd gotten going, I remembered that, and I tried to remember everything he'd told me and try to put it into action. But for right then ... well, I started into my room. To tell the truth, I think I was probably going to go in and jerk off, he'd gotten me so excited, but he yelled at me to stop. He said we were buddies, there was something we could do together, but we'd have to keep it a secret from my mother. I guess you know what it was ... he wanted me to jerk him off. Well, I did. Got down on my knees between his legs and took hold of the big thing, and stroked it real good. He got to liking it, he pushed down farther, his legs spread out around me, then he started jerking a little, gasping and throwing his head around, and the juice squirted up about a mile! I'd never seen anything like it. It pumped out that first load, then it kept sort of throbby-jerking and several more came out. Globs of come all over his belly, a bunch of it running down my hand.
I guess that got me more interested than I'd been, because that night after they went to bed I sneaked outside, went up to the window and peeked in. I saw them both strip down-and like I said, my mother's got a real nice body. I know it might not be nice to look at your own mother, but I couldn't help it. It was the first time I'd seen big, pointed tits like that, the nipples hard on the end, and a big bush of hair between her legs. His cock was just as hard as it had been that afternoon. He laid her on the bed, then he spread her legs and buried his face in there, licking up a storm, I guess, and she really went for it; grabbed onto his head and rolled her own head back and forth. Then he crawled up over her, kissed her tits, sucked on them a little, then started kissing her on the mouth. He was holding himself up a little, so he reached down and got his big cock in the right place, then shoved it into her. I watched it disappear, inch by cotton picking big inch! Then he started pumping. Slow and nice, sweet and easy, driving it in, pulling it out, driving it in. He buried it clear to his hair every time. Well, I guess you know, by that time I had my own cock out and I was playing with it, jerking off slowly while I watched them-then when they started getting really excited, when he started pouring it to her faster and she was fitting herself up to take it every time, I started moving my hand faster. It was the most terrific shooting I'd had, I guess because I was so sexually aroused-you know, more than you get from just thinking before you jerk off.
Well, like they say, after that I was hot to trot! I just wasn't going to be satisfied until I got my hard dick up some sweet little pussy! But wanting and getting are two different things, especially because I didn't know exactly how to go about it. I mean ... well, you know, I still felt funny around girls, spent more time with my buddies-and we did a lot of talking about sex, but most of us were still only talking and settling for hand jobs! Then I remembered one of the things that fellow had told me. He'd been on the bum, he'd been broke and hungry, and he'd run into a fellow who turned out to be a queer. The guy had given him a couple of bucks to screw him in the ass. Well, that sounded pretty good to me, better than nothing if I couldn't get with a girl, so that's what I settled for. Invited a friend of mine to stay all night the next weekend, and after we'd gone to bed I started talking sex. Didn't let him know it was my mother I was talking about, but told him what I had seen. Described it all in detail, then tossed in, "Cripes, it got me so hot I jerked off while I was standing there watching them!"
That's all it took, we talked about that a little, then we were feeling each other-and he was as hard as I was. We slipped off our pajama pants and fooled around a little more, then I got him on his side so I could play with his ass-end a little. You know, feel around, see how he'd take it. I finally got my finger up between his cheeks, then shoved it in. He reacted a little, but not enough for a stopper, so I finally suggested that we take turns doing that to each other with our pricks. He held back a little, but we ended up doing it-and it wasn't bad. He had a tight ass, when I got my prick in there it felt good, and I romped away to a shoot-off. When he struck his in mine ... well, that didn't feel bad, either, and I got a kick out of the way he went half-nuts when he started shooting.
But I still wanted pussy! I wanted to see what it felt like to get your prick up inside some twat and romp away to a finish that way. You know, I'd seen them when I was little. A couple of neighbor girls and I, we'd shown ourselves to each other. But those had been just little hairless slits, and I'd had just a little finger of a prick. I'd seen my mother ... and I'd seen how much my dick had grown, I figured the girls ... Well, anyway, this one neighbor girl was about my age, maybe a few months older, and she was filling out pretty good. She had cans that shook around in her dress like a couple of medium-sized apples, her hips were spreading out and she wiggled her ass like something! I figured her twat was bound to have swelled bigger, too, gotten hair around it, and it would be real nice for my dick to pay a little visit there. I'd been pretty rude to her up until then, the way boys are, but I started being nicer. I'd go down to borrow things we didn't need, talk to her a while, then I'd return them later and talk some more. Kept this up for a while, and kept hoping my prick would grow even faster. Finally one day I went down there and nobody else was home, so I decided the time had come!
I guess it was sort of corny, but I started out by asking her if she remembered how we had looked at each other when we were kids. She giggled and got red in the face. Then I said something like, "It looks like you've changed. Looks like you've swelled up here and there! I know I have. I've got hair down there and everything." She held back, but finally she let me feel her tits a little, and they had grown. "Man," I said, "I'd sure like to suck on one of them to see what it feels like!"
She giggled again, but she let me. She pulled up her blouse and there they were, those two little, perky tits, half-rounded and coming to a point. I leaned over and kissed one, ran my tongue all around it, then got hold of the nipple and started sucking on it. She giggled some more, I held my mouth open and tickled it with my tongue. A hard, prick-like thing popped out of the center. I moved over to the other one and got the same reaction there! Man, my prick was so hard it was about to burst through my pants!
She wouldn't let me do anything else that day, but before the week was out I had her in the garage, we were stripped naked, and I screwed the hell out of her on an old lawn swing out there. It was all I'd thought it would be; she was real tight, real warm, and plunging my dick in and out of her really gave me a great feeling. When I shot off into her it felt like my whole head was going to blow off-well, both heads. The one on my shoulders and the one on my dick! I really poured it into her!
We screwed every once in a while after that, but we did other things, too. Like I went down on her the way I'd seen that guy do to my mother, and that got her so excited that she wanted to suck on my prick at the same time. Neither one of us knew what was going to happen, I guess, but we ended up shooting off at each other that way! And after that ... well, we sort of watched each other grow, if you know what I mean. Every time we got together I'd measure her tits with my hands, cupping them, and with my mouth-and she'd measure my cock. She'd even feel my balls, checking to see if they'd grown. I guess we did that for the better part of a year or so, and we both did grow.
I felt pretty raunchy, but later on I decided it had worked out for the best when her dad got transferred to another town. I mean, at the rate we were going, I guess I would probably have knocked her up before we were through-the law of averages were in that direction. But it turned me loose, too. With her gone I started looking around, and being older, I got interested in doing more things.
I guess I'm pretty lucky. I mean ... well, I'm not conceited when I say I'm good-enough looking, I just know that, and I've got a pretty good build. On top of that, I developed in the sex department pretty good. So sometimes even if I'm not interested in somebody else at first, they get interested in me, and away we go. Like my boss's wife. She's ... oh, about thirty, they've got four kids. But when I was about fifteen, going on sixteen, she kept being real friendly with me, and one afternoon she got me over to her house for some reason. She'd sent the kids out to play, locked the door, and she didn't waste any time. Stripped out of the housecoat she'd been wearing, and there she was, stark naked and a real eyeful! Big tits, the size of big cantaloupes and with great big nipples on them, a smooth belly and wide hips, and a pussy that looked ... well, tempting! The minute I saw her my old prick popped to attention, and she laughed, reached out and ran her hand up and down it. We ended up in the bedroom with me just as naked as her, but after we'd played around a little-you know, kissing and feeling each other up while we were still standing up-she crawled up onto the bed but stayed on her hands and knees. She told me to mount her. I didn't understand at first, but she finally got her point across. I got there, straddling her legs, and she reached for my cock and shoved it between her legs; I felt the lips of her pussy, she sort of twirled my prick-head around in it, then I started shoving it in. It was a funny as hell position, but it worked; I straddled her all the way, my body over hers, and my dong was clear up inside. I started shoving it in and out, in and out, and it felt great; her pussy was pretty big, but that way, even with all that room to slosh around in, I was getting enough friction that it did things for me. And she liked it, too. She started talking dirty, saying things like, "Oh, Christ, fuck it clear in, Cory, fuck it clear in ... Jesus, I wish my husband had a ramrod like yours ... fuck it in!" Man, I was fucking it in! My balls were banging around until they almost fell off, then I let out one hell of a gasp and shoved it clear in-it's a wonder it didn't come out her mouth!-and shot off one of the biggest loads I'd ever stored up! She was shooting, too, and gasping up a storm! Man, that was some scene!
Then there was this fellow who came into the store to shop. He was in his late twenties, somewhere around there, a real nice guy. I had talked to him several times. Well, one day he called and said he was sick, and could I bring a few things by for him on my way home. Not suspecting anything, I did, but when I got to his apartment he didn't look sick to me. He was in a bathrobe, and that was all. He offered me a drink, but I don't drink, so he insisted I have a coke. Then he started in talking about what a nice person I was, good looking and all, I must have to fight the girls off. I noticed, then, that his bathrobe was sticking out in front, even though he was sitting down. I mean, he had a hard-on. I guess I knew what was coming, because I got one, too-and he noticed it. So you know what happened, I got my first blow job from a homo! It was pretty good, too. He got my pants down around my ankles, then he got up between my legs and took hold of my prick. He got the other hand between my legs and was playing with my balls, then he brought his mouth down on me. Licked the end, kissed it, slid his lips over it, and it sent real sensations through me. He started moving his head up and down, and that got to me; I pushed out, stretching my legs out and getting my buttocks down to the edge of the cushion. He sucked on it a little, really enjoying it, then he let loose of it and went down to kiss all around my balls, between my legs. That really sent me! I raised up clear off the chair! Then he went back to work on my cock and sucked me to a wild shooting off!
So every once in a while I screw the boss's wife dog-fashion, go by that guy's apartment for a blowjob, and then in between look for other things. The way I figure, I'm having myself one hell of a good time, I'm going to have all the pleasure I can-do all the things I can-then when the time comes I'll settle down, get married, and give my wife exclusive rights on my meat! I'll want exclusive rights on hers, too, of course! But I have an idea we'll have a helluva lot of fun together, too, because I'm learning some sharp tricks!
Cory had a good point! Not only will his curiosity be satisfied, but he will have a wealth of knowledge that can make his own marital life more satisfying and meaningful than others'. What a contrast that is to the more narrow and almost frightened view of many young people who begin to learn about sex only after marriage, and therefore have serious problems in adjusting to married life-serious enough that many such marriages go on the rocks.
But let us turn to Sharon T., an example of a teen-aged girl who experiments in sexuality. Sharon is an attractive girl, slightly taller than average, well developed at sixteen, a darkly beautiful girl. She is also discreet. She is soft-spoken and well-mannered, dressing tastefully and carefully, and only those with whom she experiments know of her experiences; a brasher, more obvious girl doing the same things would be labeled promiscuous, a "bad" girl, and perhaps find life a little difficult. Sharon reported:
My sister is a year and a half older than I, and we shared a room. We had a very close relationship, so I was really quite lucky. I followed her in everything, so I learned through her experiences. For example, I was able to watch her body developing, and so was not surprised when mine began to develop; she began to menstruate, so I learned about that. And she began going with boys.
Of course, we weren't quite as close after that, because she spent more and more time away from home. But still, she'd come home and tell me about it-at least some of it. I'd usually lie awake nights waiting for her to get home, just to hear all about what had happened. At that point it was just boys walking her to a show, taking her to a school dance-trying awkwardly to kiss her, to maybe cop a feel, but it was still frightfully exciting! And maybe ... just maybe it got me interested in sex a little earlier than I might have been or at least ready for it.
At any rate, as I was entering puberty I felt these things happening to me. Even though you know about them, you still feel them happening. It's not only your body changing a little, it's feelings you're beginning to have inside. At least that was the way I felt about it. So I'd he there thinking about my sister out with some boy, the boy trying to kiss her, to feel her body, and I'd feel my own kind of excitement. I'd rub my own body and thrill to it. Then quite by accident, during one of those feeling scenes, I discovered what it was to masturbate. Oh, I don't think I had an orgasm ... I think I was still too young, but it was still pleasurable. Very pleasurable.
Finally I was old enough that my parents let me go out, too, and whether the boys liked it or not, my sister and I double dated. We were more like friends than sisters, and once I'd gotten started in the development department I seemed to catch up with her quickly and then pass her. I had larger breasts, I even looked older, and I was a lot bolder than her. If a boy kissed me, he got kissed back-because, frankly, I liked it. And if he wanted to rub my breasts, I liked that, too. Or even feel between my legs. But one that did that, he got felt right back! And, frankly, I liked that, too. I liked feeling boys' pricks. Of course, with my sister and her date along, and my sister being less brazen than I, it never went any further than that.
Not until I was fourteen, then one night we had gone out to the river for a wienie-roast, a group of us. Afterwards we were lying or sitting around the fire by couples, and I had my head in a boy's lap. It was sort of half-shadowy, so he put his hands on my breasts and started feeling them; and at the same time I felt his prick growing under my head. Well, he was in for a surprise! I rolled over on my side, he kept playing with my tits, and I buried my mouth right into his prick, sucked it through his trousers. Finally, doing it so nobody could tell I was doing it, I unzipped his pants and got his prick out, and it was a real beaut! I licked the head, ran my tongue around it, then took as much of it as I could get into my mouth. I could tell that he was pretty frantic, and that really pleased me. His hand was moving like crazy on my breasts, he finally got it under my blouse, under my bra, and he was feeling it as if it were a grapefruit he was sampling for softness-or hardness. "Chrissake," he finally whispered, "let's go off into the bushes somewhere!"
Feeling that hot, hard prick in my mouth, I didn't care what my sister would say or think. I went into the bushes with him-only instead of the bushes we got into the back seat of one of the cars. He didn't waste any time; he grabbed hold of me and started kissing me something fierce, running his tongue around in my mouth and everything. I kissed him back with the same enthusiasm, and I felt for his prick again, got it out of his pants. I stroked it up and down while we kissed, and his hands were back under my blouse again, tearing my bra and grasping for my tits. "Chrissake," he finally blurted out, "I've never fucked a girl before, but I sure got to do it now!"
His prick was pretty big, I wasn't sure. I mean, I thought it would probably hurt, it was so big. But the way I felt, I decided to give it a try, anyway, because I guess I wanted to do it as bad as he did. So when he pushed me down on my back, pushed my skirt up and pulled my panties down, I didn't resist. He played with me between the legs a little bit, feeling it with his fingers, rubbing it, sticking his fingers in a little way, almost driving me crazy with the wonderful feelings I was getting. Then he came up over me and I felt the big, hot head knocking around down there. He finally got it to the entrance, then started shoving. I stopped him, told him to go slow, and he finally restrained himself. I felt the big head force my lips open, stretching them apart, then I felt the big thing entering me. It was really a good feeling, I wanted it bad; it was as if there were an emptiness up inside my belly that it just had to fill. He shoved it in a little more and it hit the membrane; I guess it was sensitive to the feel, too, because he stopped a minute. I kissed him, thrashing my tongue around, telling him that way that he could go ahead and break me in, that I was willing.
I don't know if he understood that language or just did what was coming naturally, but he hesitated a moment more, then he drove his big prick all the way into me. He broke me, it was a sort of momentarily shattering experience, but then all I felt was his big, hard cock filling me the way I had wanted to be filled. As he thrust it clear into me, drew it out until just the head was left, then thrust it in again I felt pleasure like the tide coming and going. Every time he filled me it was terrific, and there was a different kind of pleasant feeling as he vacated me, then the inward thrust delighted me. Before long I was working with him, our hips working in a beautiful rhythm, and I'd never felt anything as wonderful in my life. Then he seemed to sort of go out of his mind; he started pumping so fast that I couldn't keep up with him. He was banging himself against me, I could even feel his balls hitting me between the legs, then he was huffing and puffing and his body was sort of holding still and trembling at the same time while his cock shot and shot. He fell forward, collapsing on me, driving it the rest of the way in-but it had already begun to go soft, it didn't hurt.
I told my sister that the boy and I had just necked, and she believed me-but I decided right then that I was going to go out on my own. As much as I liked her, as much fun as we had had together, she was too strait-laced for my taste! I sort of knew that from then on kissing wasn't going to be enough-if I did any kissing, I was going to want to end up getting a beautiful cock up inside me, and it wouldn't be easy to do that if she was around.
But I found out a little while later that that wasn't the only way of getting thrills. I went out with a boy who was older-I was maybe fifteen at the time, he was eighteen. He had been around a lot more, he was pretty experienced, and he knew how to do things. Like getting a girl hot before she even realized it was happening, just by rubbing her the right way. We were dancing at a place and he had his arm around me so that the fingers of one hand ended up on one of my breasts; he moved them slowly, I began to become aware of them, of the good feeling. He moved his hand ever so slightly, but now he was moving his finger around on my nipple, and it got hard and tender. At the same time he moved his lower body a little to let me know that he had a hard-on, then he danced me toward the door and I didn't put up any resistance.
His folks have a nice place, their garden is all fixed up with lawn swings and patio tables and all that. We went there, and he assured me that no one would know we were there or disturb us. We laid down together on a chaise lounge and started necking, our bodies pressed together as our mouths merged, our tongues experimenting in and with each other's mouth and tongue. His hands rubbed my back, my buttocks, and I was, to use a corny expression, hot as a firecracker. I was doing my rubbing, too, feeling his strong back, his firm buttocks-he was really a nicely built guy, not heavy but not at all thin. A few minutes later he had a hand up under my blouse, he had loosened my bra and was playing with my tits while we kissed. I couldn't have stopped myself if I'd tried; I reached down and started playing with his prick. He reached down himself, not taking his lips from mine, unzipped his pants and hauled it out. Now I really had a good hold of it, I could feel every bit of it and started giving it a real working over. It wasn't as long as the first boy's had been, but it was thicker, and it seemed better proportioned. I mean, the first boy's, his had been a shaft with a big knob of a head on the end of it; this boy's, it was a thick shaft and the head seemed a part of it, the same size around and then sort of tapering to a blunted point. Anyway, it was nice, it felt good, and I was enjoying stroking it while he played with my tits and our mouths were merged together.
His hand moved down, reached my knee, then started slowly back up my leg-under my skirt. The feel of his warm fingers on my inner legs just about drove me wild; I spread my legs for him, and when he got his hand up to my crotch there were no obstacles. He massaged it, squeezed the lips together, separated them with a couple of fingers while still another finger played around in the gully between. Needless to say, that almost drove me out of my mind, I could hardly wait for him to want to get his prick there instead of his finger.
But that wasn't what this boy wanted. He said later that he'd done all the screwing he needed, he could always do that; when he found someone nice, willing and cooperative, he liked to do other things. The thing he wanted to do that night was fine by me, once we got going on it. He pulled my skirt up around my waist, my panties down my legs and off, then he slid his pants and shorts down around his ankles. That done, he laid so that his face was at my crotch and his big prick in my face, and I felt his lips move against me. He licked, then he kissed all around, and I took his prick into my mouth. I reached for his balls with my other hand, held them because they felt so good while I held the base of his cock and sucked on him. He had started working his tongue inside me, meanwhile, and it was a terrific feeling. He'd shove it in, then stiffen it, then flick it up and down and swirl it around, running it all around in me. Needless to say, again, I shot right up to cloud seven; I was experiencing sensations like nothing I had never felt before. Then he stiffened his tongue and started thrusting it in and out, the way the other boy had used his prick, and at the same time his hips started moving, driving his cock in and out of my mouth faster than I could work with it. He gasped as I did, as my body began to shake and tremble, and as I felt myself reaching an orgasm I tasted the juice that he was shooting into my mouth. He thrust a couple of more times, then laid still, but his cock was still in my mouth and his face was still buried in my crotch, his tongue up in me. Finally, his prick gone clear limp, he rolled away. "Wow!" he whispered, "that was the absolute greatest!"
He was the kind of boy you could talk to, so we talked about it, me lying in his arms and his limp thing pressed against me. He told me that he had started out by simply screwing, too, but that he had found out that there were lot of other ways to enjoy sex. He squeezed me and told me that with a body like mine I should try them all, too, not limit myself to the "usual" way. I silently agreed with him, and then from then on put thought into action. If I went out with a boy and he didn't come up with a new idea, I tried to invent one-or if I heard other girls talking about things they did, and I hadn't done them, I tried them out the next chance I got. Once in a while I do it the regular way, you almost have to with some boys, but whenever I get a chance to try something different, believe you me, I try it! I figure I'll have plenty of time with the usual way once I get married-for now I want to have all the fun I can! In some ways it's safer, too. You don't have to worry about getting pregnant and all that. You can thoroughly enjoy yourself and still feel safe!
Because the truth is, I'll admit it, I like sex! I'm not a nymphomaniac, I don't think about it all the time, but when the time and place is right I really go for it, and when there's a little variety, well, it's all the more interesting. I think just plain screwing all the time would get pretty boring. I mean ... well, it's like anything else; outside of reaching an orgasm, maybe a different feeling from different sized pricks, it would end up being something like a habit, something you sort of take for granted. I like the surprises, the pleasures, the ... the variety!
These are teen-agers who look and act "like any kid in the block." No one knows of their activities but those with whom they experiment. There are others who vocalize "sexual freedom" more freely, and act more openly-those called hippies, for example, who use the guise of protest against "The Establishment" as an excuse for openly practicing sexual experimentation. But whether they go by a name or not, and however they handle it, there is a definite trend with the "younger generation" to experiment more widely and more freely with sex. As a result, the new generation is a wiser, more experienced generation-and they are not "hung up" on old wives' tales, on false pride and modesty, and other inhibiting factors that confronted generations of the past. Further, when they reach physical maturity and then head toward social and emotional maturity, they are in many ways better equipped; they go into marriage uninhibited, and as a result the sexual aspects of marriage are not nearly as problematic as they frequently were in the past.
But this has been a general view of the period called adolescence, that period that lasts from about fourteen to twenty-one years of age. Let us look now into fragments, or special sectors, of that period.
CHAPTER THREE
THE LONER
Much has been said and written about the tendencies of teen-agers to group together, frequently into gangs. While there is such a tendency, as we will see in the next chapter, there are still those teen-agers who remain basically alone-and that is true even when they are part of a gang. While they may feel more secure and draw strength from the gang, they still keep their deepest thoughts to themselves and in the more important areas act singly. This is the loner, and when it comes to sexuality it is the youngster who can participate in all sorts of gang activities of other types but keeps his own thoughts about sex to himself-and acts out of sight and hearing of the others.
This does not mean, of course, that all youngsters form into gangs. There are many who don't, and there are many who are loners on an almost full-time basis. I have mentioned the gang only because that is a strong tendency-there is a pull toward grouping and thus the individual who stays or acts alone must be considered separately.
The loner is generally a sensitive person, frequently inclined toward moodiness. His very loneliness creates problems that other young people do not have, because he is isolated and working things out for himself, not helped by the group activities and sociability that frequently make such things easier. He is aware of sex, as the others are, because his body is developing and he is aware of all elements of society around him-indeed, he cannot be unaware of it. Being isolated-seeing himself as set aside from the others, where they are more prone to see themselves as individuals and part of a group-he has to struggle even more diligently to answer the question that they all, whether they know it or not, are asking: Who and what am I?
Many loners, because of the circumstances of their lives that have made them such, find bad answers. They become involved in deviant forms of sexual behavior that have special appeal to them, that feed particular psychological needs. Others, through persistence and experimentation, work their way through and eventually become relatively-if quiet-normal adults. The following examples come from the last category. They consist of interviews with young people who have almost deliberately isolated themselves, and who have used their own methods in an attempt to find out who and what they are.
George T., at seventeen, is a definite loner. He is not a handsome boy, but he is good looking in a sort of poetic way. He has a good build, but there is a definite softness about him, a softness that comes from his mannerisms but seems to be duplicated in his physical characteristics. He does not fit into the typical teen-age group because of his tastes-he is studious, he has a great appreciation for and a knowledge of art, and he prefers classical music to any other type. Some see him as a "sissy," and he has been accused of homosexuality. He readily admits that he has practiced it, but, as we shall see as he tells his story, that was only a part of the total sexual experimentation that he has participated in while trying to adjust to life. George told his story thus:
Both of my parents are professional people-my father is a college professor and my mother is a psychologist. They've always been busy with their careers, but they haven't neglected me; I always had someone there to take care of me and, along with their line of thinking, it was someone who taught me "the finer things of life." I'm no genius, but before I was five years old I could pick out the majority of the pre-Renaissance and Renaissance painters, identify their work, and all of that. I could recognize many of the classical pieces of music after their first few notes. In the years since, that knowledge has increased.
They overlooked one thing. Children ... kids ... don't particularly care for a "bright boy," someone who knows and likes art and music, that sort of thing. I have never fit in with groups very well, and I can't honestly say that I've ever had a friend, not in the true sense of the word. So, you might say that I was an adult child-a bore! I know that now; I thought that the other kids bored me, but I can see now that I was the bore.
Anyway, I've managed on my own, I guess. I lived a quiet childhood, my companion being a nurse when I was younger and then a tutor when I was older. Oh, I went to public schools, but this tutor was a sort of all-around man, whoever he happened to be at the moment. He made sure that I was fed, dressed right, went to school, all of that, and threw in whatever specialty he know about on the side. French lessons, music, that sort of thing. Everything that my folks could be proud of. But it was his job to keep me out of their hair, too. I can see that now.
I may sound bitter, but I'm not. Not really. I just look back and see what it might have been like. But, anyway, to get on with what you asked me about ... my sex life! I can honestly say that there was none during my first twelve or so years-as I said, my mind was kept occupied with many other things, and the other people my age avoided me. My first recollection of sex is when I began to realize that my own body was changing. You can't avoid that, you know? Your prick begins to get bigger, hair grows around it, and your whole body is getting bigger. My tutors made some fuss about privacy, insisting on it for both themselves and me, so I learned modesty! The two seemed to go together; bigger prick with hair around it, hide it! Then Andre arrived!
I was thirteen, Andre was twenty-one. He was a student over here from France, going to college where my father taught, and that's how my father happened to hear about and hire him. While I was in school it gave Andre time to attend his own classes, then he taught me French afternoons. But that isn't all he taught me! I remember ... he had been at the house not much over a week, and it was a very warm afternoon. We took off first our shirts, then our trousers. I'll have to admit that I was interested in his body, and in the bulge inside his shorts. He really had a beautiful body, you see; it could have been one that Michelangelo used, perhaps for his Captive, maybe the David. But neither David nor the Captive, had they been wearing jockey shorts as he was, would have had a bulge like that! I found it impossible to concentrate on the French lesson. Andre finally threw up his hands, said that with my mind wandering as it was we would let the lesson go until later, and he went to his own room. A few minutes later I went there and quietly opened the door. He had taken off his shorts and was stretched out on the bed, and freed, his prick was absolutely fantastic;-but it was even more fantastic because it was hard and lying up along his stomach, a massive thing.
I guess he heard me, or sensed me, because he raised his head and looked at me. Perhaps he saw something in my eyes, too, because instead of trying to hide himself or getting angry or any of the things that he might have done, he merely invited me in. "The way you're looking at me," he said. "Have you never seen a hard cock before?"
I swallowed and admitted that I hadn't.
"Well, then, perhaps you would like to feel it, non?"
I swallowed again, then I reached out and felt it. Put my hand on it, then wrapped my fingers around it and lifted it up off his stomach. He smiled. "You like that, oui? You find it interesting? Well, kiss it, little one."
I kissed it, but as I did his hands came to the back of my head and he forced my mouth down over it, almost gagging me. He laughed and let my head go, but he told me to work on it with my mouth. I ... I did, working my mouth up and down on it, and finally he started getting excited and then erupted into my mouth.
He was very gentle after that. He told me to take off my shorts and lie down beside him, and I did. He rubbed my body, kissed me on the cheeks a little, then he rolled over onto his back, spread his legs, and told me to mount him. I didn't under stand at first, but he finally made it clear; I straddled him, I pushed my hard prick (so terribly small, compared to his!) into his rectum, and then I worked up and down until I reached an orgasm in him.
That became common practice with us for the rest of the school year, then with the coming of summer Andre left, because my father had taken a sabbatical to do some research and so would be around the house most of the time. I really missed Andre, but I couldn't tell my parents about it. But my awareness of sex, and of the pleasures of sex, had been aroused, and soon after, thinking about Andre and what we had so frequently done, I began playing with myself and so accidentally discovered the pleasure that can be had from masturbating. In the next year or so, increasingly pleased at the size my prick was growing to, I masturbated quite frequently. It was, actually, one of the few pleasures I really enjoyed.
My dad did his research, then when he was ready to compile the works he hired a young college student to take dictation and type up the notes. She was a really good looking girl, a pretty blonde, and she had a beautiful body. She acted like she didn't even know it, but she had nice-shaped tits that really filled out the sweaters she wore, and a beautifully curved rump. The way her skirts dipped in at the crotch almost drove me out of my mind! I found myself thinking about her instead of Andre when I was going into masturbation sessions. They sometimes worked quite late, and when they did she stayed overnight, using the room that had been Andre's-and the tutors' and nurses' before him.
I was really quite interested. I wanted to see what she looked like naked, to make my daydreams even more complete. I finally accomplished that by sneaking into that room one night when they were working late, hiding in the closet. When she finally came in I watched her undress, and it was all that I had hoped for and more. As she pulled her sweater up I saw the soft flesh of her stomach, then the shape of her tits under the brassiere; but when she pulled that off I almost gasped loud enough for her to hear. Her tits, half-rounded and sort of pointed, fell loose and seemed to spread a little over her chest. They were two beautiful melting mounds of jello, still half-firm, and each with a reddish-like decoration in the middle. As if enjoying their freedom from their harness, she put a hand under each one and rubbed them, lifting them a little and then letting them fall. That done, she kicked off her shoes, raised her skirt to unhitch a stocking, revealing a beautiful white thigh, and then slid the stocking off. I almost shot a wad from watching just that! Then she did it with the other leg, and I almost popped again. Finally she slid her skirt down over her hips, dragging her silk panties with it, and there was the nicest stomach, the most beautiful hips, and between her thighs a bush of blond hair over a bulge that, like her tits, got gentle massaging from her hand, a sort of freeing from its confines. Then she stretched, her arms over her head and her legs spread a little, and I almost went out of my mind; her tits raised up a little, spread a little more, and between her legs I could see a dark, long opening with the slightest bit of red showing. When the show ended, with her crawling into bed and turning out the light, I almost cried! But I imagined her in bed, stretching again, rubbing herself, and I imagined myself with her-then I took out my prick and slowly beat myself to an orgasm.
From then on, until the work was finished, I did that quite frequently. I mean, I sneaked into her room when I knew that she was going to stay overnight and watched her undress. It wasn't always as good as the first night, but it still was always good. I only wished that I could find some way of getting to her, but I knew that was impossible. I settled for those beautiful shows, and for day-dreaming while I masturbated in her closet,-waiting for her to go to sleep so that I could sneak back to my own room.
After she was gone there was an emptiness, worse even than after Andre had gone. I guess ... Well, I knew what I wanted, I didn't know how to get it, and now even that half-way measure was gone. Like I said, I wasn't very popular at school, the other kids didn't invite me to any of their doings or anything. But I knew one thing, I had to get with a girl. I had to see what it would be like-and I guess I had to see, too, that I ... well, that I wasn't a queer, just because I'd sucked Andre off those many times.
There was a girl in one of my classes. I picked her, I guess, because she looked like the blonde who'd worked for my dad, a younger edition of her. She was a blonde, too, and had nice tits under her sweaters and blouses, and a cute little rump. It took me about three weeks and a hundred false starts, but I finally got courage enough to talk to her. The next step was to write her a note, ask her if she'd have cokes or something with me after school some day. When she got it she looked across at me real funny, but she agreed to. It was pretty mushy, but I'd written a poem about her, about how she looked like a Greek goddess and all, and I gave it to her while we were having cokes. She acted real funny, sort of embarrassed, but I plunged on ahead, asked her if I could see her some evening. Well, to make a long story short, it took about three months of goofing around like that, but it finally got to where one night we were sitting on the lawn swing at her place and I got my arm around her. I felt her tits a little and kissed her, and I told her that if she didn't love me at least some I'd kill myself. It was pretty corny, but I was desperate. So we kissed more, and I played with her tits more through her blouse, and the kisses got more amorous. I grabbed her hand and stuck it in my crotch, over my hard-on; she started to pull it away, but then her fingers finally uncurled and then wrapped around my prick. I was sticking my tongue in her mouth by this time, and feeling her tits up considerably, and we were both breathing pretty heavily.
I kissed my way down her throat, unbuttoning her blouse at the same time, then I had her laid back and I was kissing her stomach and all around under her brassiere, even getting my tongue up under it. I put my hand on her leg and started it up under her skirt; she grabbed onto it, held it tight, then finally let go of it, and I moved it further up. It was warm and sort of sweaty there, then my fingers had gotten up to her panties; I felt the soft cushion inside them, pressed the silk down into the slit, even, then I ran my fingers up under the silk. They felt hair, then they felt the soft flesh. By that time I'd gotten her brassiere pulled off her tits, and I was kissing them something frantic. Tonguing the nipples, sucking on them, kissing all around. I got my finger up her cunt, played around with it in there, and I knew for sure in that instance what a prick was supposed to do. I ran my finger in and out a couple of times as if it were a prick, and she groaned and wiggled around. "Can I do it the right way?" I whispered desperately. "Can I put my prick in there?"
"Oh, God, yes!" she gasped. "We shouldn't, but ... but...."
I didn't give her time to change her mind. Moving real quickly, I pulled her skirt and panties down, then I got my cock out and straddled her. I guess I was a little awkward, but I finally got the head up to the right spot, then I started working it in. She moved her hips up and down, helping me, and finally it pushed through the folds and disappeared clear into her. I had no idea a cunt would feel like that; it was warm and nice and tight, like ... well, a little bit like two chubby, soft hands clasped around it in prayer fashion. I started working it in and out, kissing her on the mouth again, and we kept going until we both reached a terrific orgasm.
She told me she had liked it, but she said, too, that she'd done it partially because she felt sorry for me. So, she said, we wouldn't ever be alone together again-and she meant it. She went back to her friends at school, and I went back to being the lone wolf again. But I had the real good memory of it, I remembered every detail, every feeling.
Well, I was sixteen, going on seventeen. I'd been a cocksucker, I'd been a jacker-offer while I was a peeping torn, and I'd gotten my first piece. I'd filled out, too, and grown taller; my prick had gotten much bigger, my balls hung down pretty good. I knew what all the kids at school thought of me, but I knew what I was. I was a human being who had human feelings and human desires. A human being who liked sex and wanted to experience more of it.
I started going where nobody knew me. Down around the lower end of town, or over in other neighborhoods. Away from kids I knew, away from home, I could pretend I was something else and act different. It paid off, too. I got pretty skillful at picking girls up, some older women, and I found out that I had only begun to learn about sex! Everyone I met seemed to have her own technique, some other way of doing it, and I went for it all. Sixty-nines, doggie-fashion, I even screwed one woman in the ass because she liked it that way, the guy playing with her pussy with his hand while he poured it to her from the rear. Sometimes we went to their rooms, but my car (because I'd gotten a car for my sixteenth birthday, you see) was almost a sex-bed on wheels. And I got a kick out of knowing what the other kids at school would think if they knew-and what my folks would think. Old sexless, studious George. Queer acting, probably was a queer. If only they knew!
Of course, there were some queer scenes. Once in a while I'd run into a man who was interested, and if no women was available I'd go with him if he wanted me to. But I was on the other side of the fence now-they could blow me, I'd screw them in the ass if they wanted, but I wouldn't get on the other end of it. I liked what they did, but I liked women!
So that's the way it goes. You might say that I'm living a double life, I guess I am. But for now it's okay. I figure this is the way it has to be. Maybe when I get to college it will change. Meanwhile, I go my own way, by myself, then I go out and do the sex scene without anybody knowing it.
Frank R. is another loner, but quite different from George. He is a pleasant-faced seventeen year old with broad shoulders, narrow waist, and strong arms and legs. Blond-haired and blue-eyed, he has a happy-go-lucky disposition that makes him popular among his friends. In most of the things the group of teen-agers he runs with do, Frank is an active participant;-one who enjoys and is enjoyed. But when it comes to sex, for his own reason, he moves alone. He told his own story:
I'll tell you what happened. I was about twelve years old, just beginning to know what was really going on, and just getting the equipment to do it with. Some of the kids I ran with were a little older, up to about fifteen. That meant some of 'em were pretty well hung, and plenty wise.
Well, we were having a sort of party one night, and these guys brought in a girl. There was a lot of horsing around, and she was the kind of girl you could horse around with. I guess every neighborhood has its whore, and she was it. Anyway, when they got through she was stripped naked, and the boys were taking turns banging on her. Of course, while one banged, others played with her tits and all that, but the thing was, everybody there was supposed to bang her. I kept trying to stay out of it, but it finally came my turn. I hated like hell letting them see my pecker, especially when some of theirs were so big, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. But in the middle of everything-I've got my pants down around my ankles, my pecker up her cunt-somebody yells that somebody's coming, and everybody disappears. So in walks some grown-up, and there I am. Well, I guess you know what happened.
My folks threatened to send me to jail and everything else, but it was only threats, but it was still uncomfortable for a while. So I decided right then, whatever the gang wanted to do, I'd do it, but when it came to sex I was on my own. On my own, baby, where nobody could catch me! And that's the way it's been, and that's the way it's going to keep on being!
That gang, too! You know, even if you don't want to think about sex, you can't help yourself. Every time they get together, no matter what they do, it eventually comes up. Some guy'll start bragging about the broad he made the night before, somebody'll say they saw somebody going at it. There's always something. And the worst part is, when I start thinking about it, there's only one ending-either I go out and get something, or I end up using the hand method, and who the hell wants to do that?
So at twelve I'd screwed a girl for the first time, if you can call that screwing. But I'd had a taste of it, at least, and I wanted more. So when the heat cooled off, when my folks weren't keeping the birddog watch on me any more, I went after more. It was with a girl my own age, a girl who was just beginning to get tits, who didn't have much hair between her legs. It was pretty dumb, too; I screwed her standing up, in a dark hallway. After that, for the next couple of years, I did it every once in a while, usually with this same girl. Then-I guess I was maybe fourteen-I got tired of her. Of it. It was always the same old thing, you know; the only thing that was different was that her tits had gotten pretty big, pretty nice, and my prick had doubled or more in size, but it was still just me kissing her tits and running my shaft up her pussy and pumping us off to a squirting match. Hell, I wanted to have a little excitement, see if what some of the other guys said was true.
You can't ditch out on the gang too easy, not without making them mad, but I finally got it down to a pretty good science. I guess I used about every excuse in the book, they grumbled a little, but they always let me back in the next time with no static. So when I got hot pants, I'd bug off. You know how it goes; they'd start talking sex, I'd start getting a hard-on, and when they went on to another subject I was still sitting there with a hard cock and wanting to do something about it. I'd get a headache, or remember something my old man had told me to do ... and away I'd go.
Of course it worked the other way, too. I mean, sometimes they'd keep talking about sex, and then they'd all want to go after something-either build up a gang bang or go off separately. But what they did was their business, I was on my own. I guess I was hung up on that, I wasn't about to take chances. And not only that; like I said, I was interested in trying out new things.
I remember ... Well, I'd leave the gang, you see, and start walking. If I'd think about a particular girl I'd go to her place, or if I'd heard that some girl did something particular I'd go there! Other times I just went to where the girls would be, struck up with one and took off with her. But after that first girl, I made sure that there were no hang ups-it was love 'em and leave 'em for me. Or maybe I should say screw 'em and leave 'em!
But you know what I found out? If you play it right, girls are just as interested as boys in trying new things. I mean ... well, I guess the same thing is going on with them. It's all new, they want to try anything they hear. Like one girl. I took her walking in the park, my hand on her ass while we walked along. We got to a dark place and I really put the make on her, put my arms around her and started kissing, running my hands all over her, feeling her tits and all. I could tell right away that she had hot pants, because she was kissing back with tongue and all, and rubbing her pussy into my hard-on while she did it, and while I was rubbing her buttocks and squeezing her tits and all. Well, we finally went in among the bushes and laid down on the grass, and we went at it again. The kissing business, hands all over each other, then she's squeezing my prick and making noises about how big it is, how nice it is, and how good it's going to feel to get it up in her. I say to her, "If you think it's so damned nice ... you ever sucked a guy's cock?"
She gasped, all shook up, shocked because I'd even say such a thing, so I told her to just lay back and relax a little. I pushed her skirt up as high as I could get it, and she didn't have any pants on under it. There was pussy, just waiting, and me remembering what one of the other guys had said you did with a thing like that-if you needed to be told! I put my hand on it and started warming it up more, squeezing it and all, then sticking a finger in and running it around. She really went for that, her legs spread out and she was making noises again. She was a talker, you see, one of the kind that have to be making comments. "Oh, no boy's ever done that to me before, but it sure feels good with your finger in there! Oh, I like that, it feels good the way you're doing that!" Well, enough of that finger stuff, I bent over and kissed it. Planted a great big kiss right in the middle of that sweet pussy! Then I started licking it, like a dog would do. Licking it from the bottom clear up to the top, going back for a second helping. Pressed my tongue in deeper and swung it around on all that soft, inside meat, that tenderness. She's almost going out of her mind by that time, so I got my tongue inside and then I stiffened it, and while I started working it in and out I got my cock out of my pants and then straddled her face. It didn't take any instructions; she grabbed onto my cock with her hand and her mouth was over it in a split second. She may not have ever sucked cock before, but she knew automatically how to do it! So I tongue-fucked her and she sucked on me, and before long she's romping her hips up to meet my. face and I'm shoving my cock down to meet hers, then we both blew our brains out with the juiciest loads you could ask for!
She was all lathered up, that was the greatest thing she'd ever done, she hoped we'd get together again real soon and do it again. "Naw, baby, once around the merry-go-round is all!" But that was sweet eating pussy and she gave a good blow-job; I made a mental note of it in case I decided to go back for seconds.
Then I heard about this dumpy hotel. Guys go in there, check in, and go up to their rooms. They're really just little cubicles, no bathrooms or anything, you have to go down the hall. Anyway, they go up there, they strip and lay-down, and other guys come along. If any two like the looks of each other, the visitor goes in and they close the door. Well, I've got to try everything at least once, so over I go. I sneaked in the back way, being only not quite sixteen, up the stairs. Honest to God, the story had been true; there were doors open along the hall, and guys lying naked on the beds. Some of 'em had hard-ons, old cocks sticking up and waiting. A couple of 'em smiled and invited me in, but I didn't particularly like their looks. Like they were too old, or too fat, something like that. Finally this fairly young guy, lying there with his hand behind his head so he can look out the door, sees me and invites me in.
Well, he's a sort of nice looking guy, seems like he'd be nice, so I went in. He told me to close the door, so I did. I was trying to act brave, but to tell the truth, I was a little nervous, even scared. Anyway, he swung his legs off the edge of the bed and was sitting up, and when he saw I was nervous he patted the bed beside him. I sat down, he reached out for my leg. "This is your first time, isn't it?" he asked.
"Yeah," I admitted. Well he was nice about it, gentle. Moved his hand up and got hold of my cock through my pants, played with it a little, then he reached over and unzipped me and pulled it out. Got down on his knees between my legs and slid his mouth over it, a real nice, sucking beginning! I guess he figured he'd gotten me hot enough, so he lets loose and tells me to undress. I did, figuring I was in for a blow-job-and ready to try to figure out if getting a blow-job from a man is any different than getting one from a woman. But he doesn't go for that. He laid down on his back, told me to lie down on top of him, then he reached between us and got both our cocks pulled up between us, pressed between our bellies. Then he started moving his hips, and I'll be damned if it didn't give me a pretty good feeling. Then all of a sudden he moved some way, and my cock was down between his legs, his still up between us. I could feel the head of it pressed into his flesh there-then the damndest thing! He wiggled his ass some way, the muscles, and I felt my cock being sucked up into him. Well, I knew what that meant, and I didn't disappoint him. I started pile-driving it into him, banging it in until my belly crashed against his butt, pulling it out and then banging it in again. It's a wonder I didn't mash his nuts, but it didn't seem to bother him; he started working with me, not only wiggling his butt but working his muscles, and it honest to god was as nice as any cunt that baby had been in. Man, when I blew I really blew! I rammed it into him and the stuff shot out. And his shot at the same time; I felt the sticky stuff shooting up between us. That was a wild one!
It's times like that when you're smart for being a loner. I mean, if the other guys had known about it, they'd of said that I was going queer. I guess what I'm saying is, what a guy does is his business, nobody else's! So when I'm with the gang, I talk about screwing-but I remember all these other things I've done, and I feel pretty good about it. I mean ... well, you've just got to have experience, that's all. You've got to know what's going on. Besides that, it's one hell of a lot of fun!
So the loner, for his own reasons, moves in his private sexual world-but like the others, he is aware of his body and interested in discovering all of the secrets that it holds. He experiments. He checks each variety of and looks for still another way. But eventually, when he has tried as many as he can, he will have arrived at the point where he can feel that he knows what there is to know about sex, he can now settle down to the more acceptable patterns of heterosexuality.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE TEEN-AGED GANG
Psychologists frequently point out that during adolescence the individual is struggling to find out who he is and where he is going. He is getting used to his growing body and the new sexual power; he is, as was mentioned earlier, trying to free himself from his parents, develop his own personality, and become a social being in his own right.
During this period, which frequently starts out with an awkward self-consciousness, there is a tendency for adolescents to form into gangs. There is comfort in being with others like himself; he can find understanding there that he feels he can't find elsewhere. There is security in strength; together, all going through similar problems, one can elevate the other! It is a living example of the old adage, "Birds of a feather flock together."
The word gang is a psycho-sociological term in this instance, used to define this tendency to cluster. Some of these gangs are very well formed groups, almost to the point of being clubs or fraternities; others consist merely of two or three or more young people who become closely associated, share interests and activities, and spend a great deal of time together. More important, there is a feeling of loyalty; in even serious questions, a person like this will defend his gang in preference to his parents.
Along with giving a feeling of security, a sharing of interest and activities, the gang is also a teacher and a motivater-and this is especially true in matters of sex. Each member brings into the gang his own background of experience, and adds to it the knowledge he gathers as they move along. Much of this, of course, is erroneous knowledge, but it is nonetheless offered and frequently accepted at face value. As a motivater, the importance of the gang cannot be overlooked-a young person will do things under gang pressure that he would not otherwise do, because to refuse would bring ostracism and maybe even elimination from the gang. At the same time, this pressure frequently gives him the courage to do something when he might otherwise not be able to muster it.
As the following cases will show, sex is a popular topic of conversation in teen-aged gangs, and the conversations quite frequently lead to sexual activities. In this respect, experimentation really comes into play: stimulated by one another, members of the gang feel a strong drive toward the practice of experimenting with various forms of sexuality. Quite frequently sexual activity, when entered, is a gang activity; as frequently it is the activity of a member that has been motivated by the gang.
Galen H. is seventeen years old. He is a tall boy, lean but filling out. While not quite handsome, he has clean good looks about him. A senior in high school, he is an average student, a basketball player, and has no trouble getting along with anyone. Despite the possibility of wider popularity, however, Galen prefers to associate with four other boys-a loose-knit "gang" that has been together throughout their high-school lives. He reported:
First it was Tommy and I. We became pals when we were in grammar school, stayed together into high school. As a matter-of-fact, in this thing about sex you asked about, you might say that Tommy and I started that together, even. I remember ... I think they call it puberty ... you know, when you start getting your sex, when your prick starts growing, your balls dropping and all that ... Tommy and I were buddies then. Every Friday night he either stayed at my house or I stayed at his, and during summers we were together even more than that. Took camping trips and all. Anyway, when we started getting sex feelings we messed around together, the way kids do, some nights we'd talk about sex and then end up jacking each other off.
Tommy taught me about sex, you know. I mean, about screwing girls and all that. My folks wouldn't talk about such things, but his folks had given him the whole scoop, told him all about it, so he told me about it. That'd be part of why we'd jack off-we'd begin talking about stuff like that, then end up playing around with ourselves and each other. When we started getting more interested in girls, that'd only be more of it. One of us would say something like, "Man, I saw a set of knockers today that'd knock your eyes out...." or, "Boy, I saw a girl sitting today so I could see clear up under her skirt, I could even see her cunt," and away we'd go!
When we started high school, though, neither one of us had actually had anything to do with girls. Oh, we'd talked to them, maybe even kissed a couple, maybe copped a feel or two, but that was all. Then we met Freddie, and we started spending time with him. The three of us would go to the river Saturdays when the weather was good, strip bare-ass and go swimming. Freddie had one hell of a whang on him even then, so there'd be a lot of horsing around, if you know what I mean, and then more talking. With a whang like that, Freddie had had a little more experience than us. I guess it was two things; I guess with a piece of meat that big, he was aware of it more than other guys-and then, when other people saw it, they got interested. And it bulged in his pants, let me tell you, even then-so naturally the girls had an idea of what was there.
So it was Freddy who told us what it was like to screw girls, and who got us all hot and bothered to do it. He took great delight in telling us whenever he did it (as a matter-of-fact, I think he even made up stories when he hadn't). He'd give us all the details, we'd all end up with hard-ons, then we'd have a meat-beating session right there.
We finally figured out how we could do it-I mean, how Freddy and I could get our first piece. There was this one girl Freddy said he'd screwed quite a few times, and she obviously liked it, so we set it up. Tommy's folks were going out of town one weekend, so we each asked a girl to go out with us. Let them think that we were going to a show, but then we all ended up at Tommy's. We had figured that if Freddy got his girl in the bedroom, got going on her, the ones with Tommy and I would get interested.
Well, it worked, up to a point. We gassed off a while in the living room, messing around and all, then Freddy maneuvered his girl into the other room. Tommy kept going to the bathroom, just to watch progress. Finally he gave me the nod; I went and looked, and sure enough! There was Freddy and this girl, stripped naked, and Freddy was on top of her with his meat joining them. Cripes, I got a hard-on right on the spot! I noticed that Tommy had one, too.
Well, Tommy gets his girl down the hall, they're looking in the bedroom, there's some talk that my girl and I can't really hear, then it gets almost quiet. That's my clue, that means it worked out for Freddy. But I double-checked first, pretending I was going to the bathroom-and sure enough, there's Freddy humping his girl on one bed, Tommy humping his on the other. I went back to the living room and my girl, really fouled up. I mean, I was hot to go, man, I really wanted to get into her pants, but at the same time I was scared. My old hard-on said go, but things inside me said to hold back.
Well ... well, I knew what they'd say if I didn't. I knew I had to at least try. I said something like, "Hey, you want to really see something?"-and I'm sure I said it too loud, stupid-like. Anyway, I took her down the hall, let her look in-but she didn't do what she was supposed to. I'd picked a dud. I put my arm around her, ready to go into action; ready to start feeling her tits, getting her warmed up, but she pushed me away and sort of stumbled back. "Oh, that's awful!" she cried out. "That's terrible what they're doing!"
Man, I could see the handwriting on the wall. If she took out of there and opened her mouth, there'd be all kinds of trouble. So instead of getting myself a piece of ass, I spent the next hour convincing her that even if she didn't want to do it, it was all right for kids that wanted to, she should keep her mouth shut. I finally took her home, sure that she wouldn't spout off.
When I got back the party was over. They'd both gotten their rocks off, and all four of them were dressed and sitting in the living room. Tommy looked like a cat that had just caught a mouse; the bastard had really enjoyed himself! But old Freddy, he turned out to be a real pal. When I told them what had happened he said something like, "Well, hey, this guy saved our life, you know that?" Then he tells his girl that she ought to be grateful, she ought to go to the bedroom with me. Man, I felt stupid as hell, but ... well, when she agreed I went along. But honest to god I felt naked right then-I mean, all of them watching us going, knowing what we were going to do.
Anyway, we got in the bedroom, and I was scared but she wasn't. She put her arms around my neck, kissed me, and rubbed her tits into my chest. That was all it took. I started kissing her back, rubbing her under the arms and down around the buttocks, and I felt my hard-on pushing up against her cunt, right through her dress. I started groping her tits, and they were nice little handfuls, she was really developed! Then I guess I was almost clawing, because she slowed me down and said we should get undressed. Watching her as she pulled her blouse over her head, seeing those beautiful tits with their perky nipples, I forgot all about being bashful; I almost ripped my clothes getting them off, I was in such a hurry. By the time her nice little cunt came into view my hard-on was standing out there for her to see-and she looked, smiled, and ran her tongue across her lips as if she liked what she saw. It wasn't as big as Freddy's, but it had gotten almost as long ... well, what I'm saying is that I wasn't cheated, and she seemed to agree.
We went into a clinch again, and this time it was really great-all that naked skin, my hands on her hot tits while we. kissed, my hard-on pushed up against that luscious pussy ... man! So we kissed up a storm, then it was bedtime. But ... well, I guess she'd had a straight screwing session with Freddy-I mean, one where he mounted her and poured it to her-now she wanted something different. She told me to get on the bed, on my back, and I did, then she crawled up over me. She straddled me, the head of my cock just barely touching her pussy, her beautiful tits up there like two "Go" lights, and she smiled. Then she took my prick in her hand and rubbed the head of it all around her pussy, around in circles and then up and down her slit. Man, I almost went berserk, it was such a good feeling! Then she got the head pressed in between the folds of her cunt-and, watching my face and still smiling, she slowly lowered herself onto me. Man, that was something; inch by inch disappeared into her, and now, with a real-pleased expression on her face, she closed her eyes and started playing with her own tits. Put a hand under each one, lifted in, mauled it, let it fall, then started over. I couldn't help it, I started humping. Driving my hard-on in and out of the tight-fitting, moist and warm cunt.
She had her cunt a little ways above me, the way her legs were, maybe six inches or so, so this really gave me driving room-but it created a problem of sorts, too. A couple of times I got so excited that I misjudged on the pull out, my cock slipped out and on the next drive I crushed it into her. She'd laugh softly, reach down and take hold of it again, get it in place, and away I'd go. Then I couldn't help it, I reached out, pushed her hands away, and started playing with her tits myself-and I wanted them. She must have sensed it, because she finally leaned forward, using her arms for braces over my head. Her big tits fell forward, swinging, swaying, and I reached for one. Got hold of it, kissed it, sucked it, found the nipple and almost chewed on it. Her cunt was down lower on me now, and she was doing some of the work; she was riding down on it as I pushed up, pulling away as I did, then riding down on it again. Man, that was wild, when the feeling grew, when I shot my load into her I almost blew my mind! Baby, if that was fucking, then to hell with these hand jobs!
We were pretty busy, you know, except for Saturdays. There was school, and after school there was basketball practice, because both Tommy and I were going out for the scrub string, looking forward to varsity when we got a little older. Both of us had chores, too, then homework. So it was usually Saturdays when the three of us got together, and we usually tried to plan things. I guess kids just don't want to be around home, you know. So we'd go down to the river, or on a camping trip. Then the first thing we knew there was a fourth-Gordon. Freddy brought him along on a camping trip one weekend. Of course, we'd all known him at school, but you can know people without knowing them, if you know what I mean. We'd built a campfire and cooked dinner over it, and we kept it going after dinner-but it still got too cold. We got into our sleeping bags-but it was still nippy, so finally, I don't know whose idea it was, we ended up putting two sleeping bags together and pairing off. Tommy and me, Freddy and Gordon. Then, with old Freddy along, the conversation turned to sex-he always managed to get it there sooner or later. After a bit of that he said, "Ain't it hell, having another boy for a bed pal instead of a sweet, tasty broad?"
That's when Gordon started, and I guess we were all surprised. He's a quiet, good-looking kid, he doesn't say much but when he talks he usually says something. Anyway, it turned out that not long be fore, he'd been walking along, and a guy in a nice car had offered him a ride-then a visit to the guy's apartment and a drink. Just social-like, but once they get there Gordon found out what the guy meant. He liked to be screwed in the ass. Old Freddy, with all his knowledge about sex, was dumbfounded. He couldn't believe it. Well, to make a long story short, we ended up giving it a go-round. I mean, we took turns screwing each other in the ass. At least we tried. Tommy and I made it all right, but Gordon couldn't take Freddy's big whang; he ended up jacking Freddy off while he rammed his rod up Freddy's ass. Old Freddy just had to take our word that it was all right, that it might not be the same as cunt, but it was still a pretty good sensation to feel your cock up a guy's tight bung-hole and shoot your rocks off that way.
We plugged along. Once in a while one of-us would go out on our own and get a piece, but usually the four of us were together. We palled around together at school, hung together after school, and spent whatever free time we had together. Even when we were with other kids. Like ... well, at the soda fountain where the high school kids hung out, or the pool hall. We'd be with the others, but we were still by ourselves, the four of us. Then Chuck came into the group. I don't know how he got there except ... well, he was smaller than the rest of us, and he was good for laughs. I guess he was sort of like our mascot. And there wasn't anything we told him to do that he wouldn't do!
So one night-another night when Tommy's folks were out of town-we were all sprawled around Tommy's living room. We were talking about basketball, what chance the Giants would have in baseball, what a bore certain classes were. Stuff like that. Then old buddy Freddy, old faithful, one-track-minded Freddy, got on the sex kick again. I guess that whang of his is just so big he can't help himself, he has to rub it and start talking sex. Maybe he figures if everybody else gets a hard-on he's all right, he's safe. Well, by that time everybody there, even little old Chuck, had had enough pussy that there wasn't anything overly exciting about it. I mean, it felt good, you got your rocks off, but just talking about it wasn't enough to get us going powerfully strong for it. So old Freddy, he says, "You know, I wonder how many guys one girl could take at once?"
"Like how?" somebody asked. "Like what you talking about?"
The idea enthused Freddy, and he believes in putting words into action. The more he talked about it the more excited he got, so nothing would do but that we had to try it. The question was: Could all five of us work on one girl at the same time, and all of us get our rocks off?
Little old Chuck, he's the messenger. He goes running off after this girl who's pretty wild; it's a known fact that she's screwed with just about every boy in the school. She's no tramp, she's a pretty sharp looking girl, she just happens to like cock! While he was gone Freddy, talking excitedly, his big old whang shoving out against his pants, set the stage. He turned all the lights off except one lamp that didn't give off much fight, he kept talking sex to keep everybody excited and willing, and he got a blanket off Tommy's bed and spread it on the floor in the middle of the living room.
Chuck came back with the girl. She was startled when she saw us all; I guess she wondered what was going on, but she finally was in the room, the door closed behind her, and Freddy was giving her the smooth talk. Getting her sexed up, too, feeling her cunt while he was doing it, and finally coming right out with what he had had in mind-wouldn't it be kind of fun to see if she could take all five of us at once and have a real jolly shooting spree? By that time he had her blouse off, he unsnapped her bra and it fell off. He leaned forward and sucked her tits real fast, groping her cunt at the same time. Needless to say....
Well, she was stark naked and lying on the blanket, and in that soft light it was really nice to see. Her body looked real soft and inviting, her tits were mighty fine. The light touched here and there. Freddy was stripped first, standing over her, legs spread, with his big cock sticking out like the Statue of Liberty. The rest of us, forgetting modesty if we'd had it, were stripping down-cocks were popping up all over the place! Even little old Chuck-but short as he is, he isn't absent in the cock department. Of course, maybe his looks bigger than it really is because it's on a smaller body-I don't know, but it still looked pretty good sized.
Well, old Freddy was the master of ceremonies, the committee chairman, whatever you might want to call him. It was his party, he was making the decisions and giving the orders. Maybe it was because he has such a sexy mind, he could figure things out better. Anyway, we ended up this way. Freddy laid down on his back on the blanket. The girl straddled him, and it took some doing, she had to take it slow, but her cunt had finally spread enough to take his big cock intc her. He told me to straddle him, with his head right up in my crotch; I did, and the girl knew what that position meant-with her tits crushed against his chest she could get to my cock with her mouth. Gordon got behind her, got his prick up her ass. Tommy and Chuck laid down on either side of the rest of us, and she reached out and got a cock in each hand. So there it was, by God, we'd answered the question! A girl could take five guys. So away we went! Freddy and Gordon worked out some sort of routine, one cock sliding in and out of her cunt while the other pistoned in and out of her brownie; she worked my prick beautifully with her mouth, and jerked off Tommy and Chuck at the same time. A beautiful, coordinated machine when we finally got it all worked out, and everybody was having themselves a ball. Then the firecrackers went off! Man, you've never heard so much grunting and gasping, sputtering and spitting, as when those five cocks and that busy little cunt started firing off! Man! I know for my own part it was out of this world, I grabbed her head and pulled her mouth clear down over my rod, shot the stuff clear down her throat as my body jerked in spasms. Kee-rist! Five guys fell over, five cocks went limp, and one little pussy rested after having a helluva whang in it! You could almost smell the jizzum.
Well, you asked, and that's the way it goes. I think it helps us all, too. I mean ... well, we're real buddies, and when we do things like this together it makes us all the closer. Besides that, it gives us opportunities that we wouldn't otherwise have. Like one guy tries or hears something, he brings it back to the rest of us (the way Gordon had introduced us to ass-fucking). Or one guy might be a little hesitant on his own, the other guys give him courage. But most of all ... well, we're just buddies, that's all. We've got each other. When our folks give us static we turn to each other; we do our sex bit when we want, then we're back together. We all know it isn't going to last-already Gordon is getting hung up a little on one girl in particular, he's spending a little more time with her than with us-but for as long as it lasts, we like it! And I can tell you one thing, I've learned one hell of a lot about sex that I wouldn't have known otherwise, and I think it's a good thing. When I do get around to getting married, I'll have all this out of my system. I'll be able to settle down to one woman and keep us both happy, sexually and otherwise!
Galen, whether he realized it or not, was making two important points there-one of which has already been stressed. Simply stated, it can be considered as healthful for young people to experiment with sex, to find out the pleasures of which their bodies are capable. In that way they learn more about themselves, come to accept themselves for what they are, and are, therefore, able to settle down later as "normal," heterosexual mates. Secondly, the gang is a normal part of human development-and it is very important during the adolescent period. But, as Galen inadvertently pointed out, as the individual grows closer to adulthood, to maturity, he slowly withdraws from the gang. Just as he had to use the gang in his attempt to seek freedom from his parents, so now does he use a single individual of his choice as a means of drawing away from the gang-a step closer to standing alone as a mature adult.
He might have added-because this enters into it-that as the individual leaves adolescence he experiences the beginning of a tapering off of both his sexual interest and capabilities. It is very insignificant, of course, but it is a beginning-as the years pass, perhaps sadly, both interest and capabilities will wane even more. And that, it appears, is all the more reason for young people to enjoy life while they can, perhaps even collecting memories for those later years when the spirit might be willing, but the flesh is too weak. At least their fives will have been fuller because of it.
But let us turn now to another example of a gang and its effect on the sexual activities of its members, both singly and collectively.
Bart H. was sixteen years old. He was a medium-sized boy who would not stand out in a crowd, being neither handsome nor homely. He had a good build, but it was so close to the norm that it, too, would do nothing to make him stand out from others. His personality was similar; a friendly enough, likable boy, he got along with others easily but could just as easily "fade into the woodwork." Despite that moderation in physical attributes and personality, Bart was a member of another loose-knit gang-or perhaps it was because of it. Away from the crowd he was a quiet, unobtrusive boy; as part of the gang he was motivated and stimulated, finding sustenance in them. He told his story calmly:
Nothing really exciting had happened in my life. I had a real quiet, easy childhood. My folks were good people, quiet people; they didn't get upset about anything. We seemed to just live from day to day, taking things as they came along. I had friends around the neighborhood, but it had all been sort of casual. I mean, we got together when the time was right, when there was something one or the other of us wanted to do; otherwise we went our own way.
Then, when I was about fourteen, I met a kid named Allan. He was a year older than me, a really great guy. Personality all over the place, and wise to everything. I don't know how he ever decided to be friendly with me, but he did, and I guess I almost worshiped him. Sort of hero-worship, if you know what I mean. He'd tell me things that he did or had done and I'd sit there with my mouth hanging open, really impressed. like ... well, like he'd been in reform school once, when he was a little kid, for stealing. And he'd screwed an older woman when he was only thirteen, got sucked off by a queer when he was fourteen, and since then he'd done about everything in the book. I found out later that some of it was just talk, but that didn't matter. I was impressed when he told it, and I still liked him when I found out some of it was lies.
Allan was the kind of a guy who draws people to him-a natural-born leader, I guess you'd say. Of course, part of it was that his mother had died; he and his old man lived alone, so his house was available to us all the time. It ended up with being six or eight of us there almost every day after school, chewing the fat and then going from there to do things. I'll admit right from the start that I was a follower-whatever the gang decided to do, I just trailed along.
As far as the sex thing goes, I guess the first time we really did anything was not long after Allan and I became pals. We were sitting in his living room talking, just him and I, and he was telling me some of his wild tales. You know, how he'd screwed that older woman, what it felt like and all, and we both got hard-ons. He asked me if I'd had a piece; I had to admit that I hadn't, so he joked: "What dya do, then, just beat your meat?"
I remember blushing, because to tell the truth, I had. I mean, I'd beat my meat, quite a few times. Y'know, you can't help it. The damn thing gets hard when you're thinking, you start playing with it a little, and even if you hadn't planned on it, you end up stroking it to a finish. Anyway, Allan decided that we ought to try a little sex, both of us being stirred up by his detailed stories, so we ended up peeling our pants down to our ankles, shorts and all, and sitting there jacking off together. We kept looking at each other's cock and asking how it was coming, how it felt ... then we somehow had switched it around, he had his hand on mine and I had my hand on his, we were jacking each other off. Well, right in the middle of that, one of the other kids came in. We heard him coming, we went like hell, got our pants up and everything, but he saw us both with hard-ons and wanted to know what the hell was going on.
Allan passed it off by saying we'd been talking about pussy, we were thinking about going out after some, and this kid went along with the idea. But right in the middle of it all he reminded us that it was late afternoon, people were getting ready for dinner, there wouldn't be any broads available. Me, I'm just sitting there. I'd been perfectly content with Allan and I beating each other's meat. I wasn't sure what I'd do if we went broad-hunting. I think I was even a little relieved when this kid came up with reasons' why it wouldn't work out. But then Allan came up with a lulu. He said, "Y'know, I heard about this guy, he was hot to get pussy but he couldn't get any. He didn't want to jack off, he wanted to get his rocks off in a dame, but there was no dames available. Y'know what he did? He bought himself this big piece of liver, cut a slit in it just like a pussy-slit, and stuck his cock in there. Said it felt the same way, all that hot meat around him, he fucked his way to a shoot-off to end all shoot-offs!"
The other kid guffawed. I wasn't sure. Then the other kid said, "You talk about things like that, I've heard a guy's ass feels the same as a girl's pussy once you get your cock up in it."
"Nobody's usin' my ass!" Allan snorted.
So we kept yakking, but we ended up with the three of us on the couch, Allan in the middle, and all of us with our pants and shorts down around the ankles. Allan got hold of each of our cocks, the other kid got hold of his balls and I got hold of his cock, then we went to beating. You should have seen it! The other kid and I shot off at just about the same time, big old globs shooting out all over the place, and I got so wiggling from it that Allan had to yell at me to keep beating his, then he shot off, too. Man, that was a mess, but it had felt pretty good!
But there's something funny about a thing like that. I don't know what it is, but I noticed it then and later. Guys like that, they shoot oft their rocks, you think that'd be all there is to it, but it isn't. Once they've gone that route, they got to get a woman-almost as if they got to prove that they're all man, all big cock, they can pour it to a broad! That happened then. More talk; we agree to meet that night and go pussy hunting.
Well, like I said, I hadn't yet gotten my first piece, and I thought about it a lot but I wasn't all fired up to go after it. I mean, I wanted it, but ... well, I just felt sort of funny, sort of backwards. I didn't know what I'd say to a girl, let alone what I'd do to get going along that route. But I couldn't back down even if I'd wanted to, because Allan came by my place to pick me up. We met the other kid and we went looking. Cripes, just from thinking about it, I had a hard-on from the very beginning. I had to hang back behind them whenever we went in some place. And I was hoping they'd find some for us, but at the same time I was hoping that they wouldn't.
I can't remember what all we went through, but we ended up going to Allan's place with two girls and the three of us. I was ready to cut out, but Allan wouldn't hear of it. We got there, Allan's old man wasn't home, and the two of them started necking and feeling up the girls. After a little bit this other kid took off with his girl to the bedroom; there was no doubt about what they were going to do! Allan and his girl had as much as forgotten me; they were kissing and feeling each other up, and I sat there buggle-eyed but taking it all in. I watched him feel her tits, then run his hand up under her skirts and feel her cunt. She was busy with his cock at the same time. They were kissing like crazy. She finally got his cock outside his pants, and she was mauling the hell out of it while he had his finger up her cunt and was giving it a working over. Then Allan pulls away, like he just remembers something-and he apparently had. Me. So ... well, he wouldn't take any argument. We stripped down, the three of us, and it got pretty wild. He'd be working her cunt with his mouth while I was kissing her and playing with her tits, she'd have her hands on both our cocks, then all of a sudden I'd be sucking on her big tits while he was kissing her and finger-fucking her. When it finally came around to getting down to real business, Allan had the answers for that. He'd had cunt, it was nothing new to him, so I was supposed to screw the girl while she gave him a blow job. I didn't think she'd go for it, but she did, and that's what we ended up doing. She laid down on the couch on her back, I straddled her; she got hold of my cock and guided it to the right place, I felt her hairy cunt under it, then I started shoving in. I guess I wasn't very graceful about it, but that didn't bother her; when I pushed it through those tight gates she just spread her legs and took it, raising her buttocks up a little to help out. I felt it pushing through, the sensation was pretty terrific, so I just gave a thrust and shoved it all the way in. Man, it felt like it belonged! I'd been worried about what I'd do; there was no worry now.
But a dumb thing happened. I don't know what Allan had planned, but instead of her blowing him, he was sitting on the arm of the couch with his legs on both sides of her, and it was my mouth that got to his cock. So there I was, fucking the hell out of her and sucking on his cock! She was playing with his balls, messing around with her own tits, and everything else, and romping her hips up and down.
Every time I'd ram my plunger into her she'd rear up to meet it, then she'd pull away when I did, and then we'd clash again. My old pecker felt at home; it was having itself a time; and I was sucking away on Allan's cock. Then I felt this terrific feeling growing, and I started screwing all the faster. I forgot all about his cock; I was just ramming my plunger in and out of her, then I buried it clean to her belly-button and shot out the load to end all loads. Man, I let one go! I let out a groan you could have heard a mile away, because that was really something!
Well, that particular time Allan ended up mounting her after I'd rolled off, screwing his way to a happy ending. The other kid and his girl came out of the bedroom after a while, and everybody was happy.
We'd always been fairly close, but I don't know ... after something like that ... Well, y'know, there's something awful goddamn private about your own cock, and even more private about it when it's hard. When you're with somebody during something like that, they see you not only hard but screwing some girl-well, it's no holds barred. It's even different than jacking off together. It's ... well, it's no more secrets. And that's the way it went. We all knew now that we had all gone the route. We'd jacked off, the way kids do, and we'd screwed, so we not only could talk about it, we could go on from there.
As we went on we met other guys, and some of them we liked. We palled around with them, too, and we did things with them. Not only that, we found out about other things from them. Lake ... Well, as brilliant as Allan thought he was, getting blown and screwing older women and all that, he'd never thought about doing it doggie fashion. This one kid talked about it, said he'd done it, so we all had to try it. Not together, but each of us getting a girl and doing it. You ever done that? It's really something!
But you know what it all adds up to? These guys you're with, they're your buddies. You feel good with them, you know anything goes. Your folks, they might not understand about things, they're telling you what you should and shouldn't do-but these guys, they're telling you that you can and should do anything, then if it doesn't work out right, so what? You go on from there. They understand, they don't condemn! I don't know, maybe it's like Allan said once. He said, "You know what a real buddy is? He's a guy who'll let you screw him in the ass when you're hot and can't get a broad!" That may sound a little extreme, but that's about what it is.
These are loose-knit gangs, and exist-right under the noses of parents and other adults-in almost every community. They are a natural phenomenon of adolescence. But there are gangs that are more structured, generally with a leader (frequently given a title, even)-they are not quite "clubs," but they have many of the characteristics of a club. They frequently involve sexual activities, for the same reasons that other teen-agers participate in sexual activities, and they have the same influences on individual sexuality as do the other types of gang (e.g., they teach sex, including the varieties of sexual activities, and they motivate and stimulate sexual activity, both collectively and singly-that is, by the group and by individuals). This does not mean that sex is the main reason for the gang's existence; indeed, it is quite the contrary. The gang exists as a refuge for the teenagers, a place where they find necessary security and help in their development, and as sex is only one part of the individual's experience, so is it only one part of the gang's existence. But it is an important part.
In some of this type of gang the sexual activities are almost ritual-partially because man, throughout the ages, has found psychological fulfillment through rituals. The following is an example of such a gang, with the information provided by a seventeen year old member:
From what I've heard most guys go through, I'd gone through the usual. When I first started getting interested in sex and found out I could get kicks from it, I jerked off. The next step was finding out all I could about girls, like taking every chance I got to get a look at one or one's part (you know, like looking up under skirts when they sat right, stuff like that), and to cop feels when I could. I went with one girl when I was thirteen or so, and we got to the place where we really felt each other; I'd get my hands right under her blouse and feel her tits, then up under her skirt and feel her pussy, and I'd take my hard prick out so that she could mess with it. But we never screwed. Her old lady had put the fear of God in her. Man, after a session of that, though, I'd go home and jerk myself off for sure.
There was this gang of kids at school that called themselves the Rovers. A kid named Dan, an older kid about seventeen, was the king of the gang-they even nicknamed him King. He was a good-looking kid, well built, and he was really smart. About what goes on in the world, I mean. Well, all the Rovers dressed alike-tight white levis that showed their bulges, white tee-shirts, and blue denim jackets. No other kid dared dress like that. If any tried, they found themselves mauled a little.
The Rovers got together after school, hung around together. When they could they hung around together nights, too, and on weekends. There was this one table in the soda fountain all the kids used, it was more or less reserved for them. If somebody else was there and they came in, they let them have it, even. Then they'd work out from there, do whatever they decided to do.
I was, I guess, fifteen when King approached me. He had a way of doing it: he surveyed a kid in the shower room in the gym, checked him out to see if he had a good build and all. Then he talked to him and decided from that whether he wanted to let him into the gang or not. If he did ... well, this is how I got into the gang. First I had to steal a fifth of booze. That was to show skill and guts, and at the same time it got booze for the parties they had once in a while. I didn't have any trouble passing that. But the next step really gave me trouble, because I'd never done it and I was embarrassed with all of them there. What I had to do ... There was this girl, and she was real hung up on King, so she'd do anything he said. She was almost like part of the gang, and wanted in, so she went along with it. With a new guy's initiation.
It was in two steps. The first step, we were all in this warehouse where the gang sometimes went, an empty building they sneaked into. With all the members sitting in a circle, drinking the booze I'd stolen, I had to strip naked in the center of it. Then, turning slowly around so they all could watch, I had to jack off standing up. It was real embarrassing, but I wanted in the gang so bad I gritted my teeth and did it. Then the next step....
It was a couple of nights later. This time I had to get in the center of the circle again and strip-but there was no jacking off. Instead, this girl comes in, and there I am, standing there naked! Man, I about died! But she came right into the circle, and King told me to start loving her up. Well, I did, and I guess you know what happened! I mean, I was kissing her and feeling her big tits-and they were big!-so I got one hell of a hard-on. "Feel her cunt," King yells, "get her warmed up." So I started feeling her cunt, too, but he yelled to feel it under her dress, not through it, so I reached down, pulled her skirt up and took hold. She didn't have pants on, so I got a handful right from the start. I really gave it a working over, massaging it, sticking my finger in it, everything, while I was still kissing her. King yelled out again, told me to get my prick into her, so ... so I did. I got hold of it, rubbed the head of it up and down her pussy a couple of times, and then started forcing it in. I'd never screwed before, you know, I was sort of awkward at it, but I could feel it slipping in, and it really felt good. Man, I got her by the buttocks and pulled her while I gave one hell of a shove, and it went in so far it's a wonder it didn't come out the other side. "Now fuck," King yells, but I don't know that he would have had to-seems to me that when a prick gets inside a tight little cunt it doesn't need any advice, it knows what to do! I kept hold of her buttocks, kept kissing her all over the mouth and face and throat, and I fucked. After a bit she was doing it with me and, man, I wanted to he down; I kept feeling like I was going to fall, my leg muscles ached like hell, but you couldn't. You bad to screw your way to a spurt-off standing up ... and I did, and man, that was a spurt-off if there ever was one! I shot off into her, and I wanted to keep shooting but my damn legs gave away; I sort of tumbled down, my old prick shooting out a little bit more.
Well, that was the initiation, the three steps. I was a Rover! When the kids at school saw me wearing the Rover outfit, getting together with other Rovers, I could see their envy.
We did a lot of things together, and sometimes it included sex. like, we'd be down at that warehouse, using a candle for light, sitting around bullshitting, and somebody would get in the mood and get the rest of us going. If Carole-the girl I told you about-happened to be there, we might gangbang her, because she went for that. She'd lay there and take us one by one, liking every prick she got run up into her, but especially liking it when King did it. 'Course, like I said, he's a good-looking guy, he's got one hell of a prick on him, and he knew how to throw it to her. The rest of us, we just sort of hopped on and fucked our way to a finish, but he gave it the real works! As big as it was, and knowing how to use it, he'd get a slow, easy motion going-his big dick must have scraped the whole inside of her pussy and pressed back where other guys missed-she'd really come alive. Slide up over it every time he drove it to her, get her legs wrapped around his ass-end, then start clawing his back when he shot because he got her to shooting, too.
Once in a while, just for kicks, one of the better-looking, better-built guys would go out and pick up a homo and bring him back. Lemme tell you, that cocksucker would get his fill of meat that night! He'd go right around the circle and when he got back to the start some of the guys were ready for a second blow. Some of 'em like it in the ass, too, you know, so if we got one like that we paired off the way to please him, one guy giving it to him in the ass while he blew the other.
But there was a lot of talk, too, and we got some good ideas from that that we tried when we were on our own. Lake one kid, he got with a girl who had big tits, he ended up fucking her right between the tits. He said it was great stuff, so naturally the rest of us wafted for a chance to try it.
Then we had parties, too, where we got a little booze, somebody brought a transistor radio, and we invited broads. That worked pretty good, because when one girl saw another girl getting it, it made her more ready for it. Or some guy would be feeling his girl up while he danced, his cock out and prodding into her-you could point that out to your girl, she'd giggle, then she'd get interested in yours. I did my first sixty-nine at a party like that, because the guy and girl next to us were doing it and my girl got interested. She said she'd never done it, she'd like to try it, so away we went. Stretched end for end, her with her mouth around my cock, and me licking that lovely pussy, lapping all around it, then getting my tongue in there and putting it to work. That was a new kind of feeling, on both ends! It really got us both pretty excited, right up to the point where we were both using the fuck-motion on each other-her fucking my tongue with her cute little cunt, me fucking her in the mouth, and both of us finally thrashing around and squirting out a load.
It might surprise you, but teen-agers will talk among themselves when they won't talk to grownups. All the kids knew what was going on, of course, and the girls knew that if they went with a Rover there was a hundred percent chance that she was going to get laid, but she'd go, most of them. It gave them prestige, set them apart from the other girls. We didn't have to worry about getting pussy, there was always something available when we wanted it.
There was only one rule that got me a little, but I didn't say anything about it, of course. If you got a virgin and got her talked into doing it-and, you know, you can tell she's virgin while you're feeling up in that twat of hers-you couldn't take her cherry. You had to take her to King and let him break her maidenhead with his big joy-stick. You could watch, you could go after her later, but he was Chief Cherry-Picker! Nobody dared fudge, either, because if he did, and the Rovers found out, he'd be out.
CHAPTER FIVE
TEEN-AGED SEX CLUBS
The tendency for teen-agers to band together, and to give each other knowledge and courage-along with their interest in sexuality and in experimenting as extensively as possible-frequently leads to the formation of teen-aged sex clubs. They are well-structured organizations, much tighter than the gang, and some of them become very elaborate. The psychological need for ritual comes into play again, and a keen sense of drama that is common in the imaginative minds of the young. These teen-aged sex clubs frequently become even more elaborate and ritualistic than the most pretentious religious practices; some have all of the qualities of a theatrical production.
As with the gang, the teen-aged sex club generally grows from out of the mind and leadership of a strong personality-and one who has a keen interest in sex whether he or she has previously had the courage to utilize it or not. It is the gathering together of youngsters with mutual interests, another example of birds of a feather flocking together, and a definite means of motivation and stimulation. It is a group of youngsters experimenting with sexuality in a way that has definite appeal to them-and in a way, for many, that would not otherwise be available to them.
These teen-aged sex clubs, like lodges and other organizations, have a definite meeting place, and are scheduled. Just as an adult might go to the Elks' or the Masonic Lodge on a certain night of the month, so do these teenagers gather for their meeting.
Ron P. was sixteen years old when he was invited to join a teen-aged sex club. His account of the approach, the initiation, and the club activities themselves may give us insight into this increasingly common teen-aged practice:
Freshmen and sophomores use one side of the gym, juniors and seniors use the other side. I guess the idea is to group kids by age so that their ideas and their equipment are all about the same. Anyway, this kid Jimmy usually had the shower next to me after gym class, our lockers were next to each other, and we had become sort of pals. We were both sophomores, and we were both-I guess we couldn't help but notice-hung a little better than most of the other kids. I mean, we had developed faster in the equipment department.
One day Jimmy said to me, "You know that toilet across from the science room? Well, between the next two classes go in there and take a leak."
I thought he was nuts or something, but he insisted on it and wouldn't tell me what it was about. Well, I was curious enough that I did what he said. I went in that can, stood at a urinal, and hauled my prick out. A couple of seconds later the door opened and this senior, Brad Watson, came in. He's a guy that looks like a movie star and he's got a real good body, plus he's on the basketball team, so every body knows him. Anyway, he stands at the urinal next to me, hauls his whang out, then looks down at mine. "You got a hunk of meat on you there," he said. "How big does it get when it gets hard?"
I'm sort of sensitive, both to touch and thought, so I didn't even have to answer him; just having him looking at it and saying that, the damn thing started stretching out and swelling. I tried to hide it with my hand, but he reached out and pulled my hand away. He shook his head. "Jimmy was right," he said. "I'll be by your place this evening, okay?"
He has a car and he came by. Said he wanted us to take a little ride. I was really going nuts trying to figure it out; I had been, all afternoon. Anyway, after we'd gotten going he comes right out with, "You ever had a piece of tail?"
I swallowed and felt my face turning red. The truth is, I'd thought about it a lot, but the best I'd done up to that point was a little handwork. And my old prick was hard enough right then that I could have gone after it again! He laughed, then he said that Jimmy had been right again. "You're an innocent little virgin, aren't you, Ronnie-boy? Well, Daddy Brad is going to set you straight on sex; he's going to give you the facts of life."
We went to his place. He's really got it made. His folks have this nice house, but there's a big room attached to the garage in back, and Brad's fixed that into his room. It's really something. But I didn't have a lot of time to look around the room. He sat me down and he started talking all about sex, telling it as if I didn't know a single thing about it, then he hauled out some pictures. Man, my eyes almost fell out. Guys with hard-ons were fucking girls, either in the cunt or the mouth; in some of them three or four people were doing different things together. Boy, my prick was really hard now; I guess it was bigger than it had ever gotten. His was, too, and he didn't try to hide it.
But then he told me. They had this club, and the only guys who were allowed in were guys who had big pricks and could keep their mouths shut. That's why I'd gotten nominated, because Jimmy had promised I could keep still and Brad had checked out my prick and found it okay. They met one Saturday night a month, the Saturday night coming up, and it was a sex for fun thing. That's all he told me. But then he said that it was time for my initiation, which was also a guarantee that I wouldn't blabber. A guy who's sucked another guy off can't shoot his mouth off. He stripped, and along with a nice body he really did have a big piece of meat. He laid on the bed on his back, spread his legs, and called me up between them. I didn't want to go, but ... well, I guess I was afraid not to, I don't know. And I was ... I was thinking about all he had said. So I did what he said. Got hold of his big cock at the base, held it straight while I took the swollen head in my mouth and started sucking on it; then he reached out, grabbed hold of my head and pushed it down. His big old shaft really spread my mouth; the head went to the back and halfway down my throat. It damned near choked me. "Suck it, Ronnie-boy," he said, "give me a good blowjob!"
I guess you somehow automatically know how to do those things, because the first thing I knew I was running my mouth up and down on it with no trouble, except that it was so damned big my mouth got tired awful fast, then he started humping his hips. Shoving his big cock up each time I went down on it. Then he gasped, mumbled, "Oh, shit, oh, shit!" and I felt his come shooting into my mouth. He had hold of my head again; I almost choked but I had to swallow it. His cock was so big it brought tears to my eyes. Finally, still holding my head with his cock going limp in my mouth, he began to relax. Then he said, "You're initiated, Ronnie-boy! You're in the club. Saturday night you'll have your turn for fun!"
I was all mixed up the rest of the week. One minute I was all antsy-pantsy about going, even getting a hard-on from thinking about it, but the next minute I'd get scared. But Jimmy, knowing that I had been initiated, made it a lot easier; he kept telling me that he wouldn't tell me what was going to happen, but it would be the greatest! Then Saturday night came and he came by my house for me.
The meeting was held in Brad's room. It looked dark from the outside when we got there, but Jimmy gave a signal and the door was opened. I could right away see why it was dark looking; the only light was from about five candles set around. Brad was stark naked, his big cock hanging like a giant wiener between his legs. Another boy was naked, too, lying on some pads that Brad had spread out on the floor; he had a huge hard-on and didn't bother to hide it. That helped me a little, because my old prick was already standing at attention, fighting to get out of my pants-which it did, because the routine is for you to undress as soon as you enter the room. So I undressed and then half-hid in a corner, sort of hoping that I could spend the evening there.
Someone else gave the signal and Brad let them in. Another guy, and he stripped right away, too. I could see what Brad had meant: everyone who came in was well hung, heavier than most of the kids I'd seen. A couple of them had balls almost halfway down to their knees once they were freed from their shorts, and pricks that either stuck out a foot in front of them or half-way up their belly.
Well, not quite that big, but they were all pretty big!
There were finally about eight guys there, some with hard-ons, some with half-hard-ons, all of them flopping around. I was beginning to get the idea that this was going to be a jacking-off party, or something like that-a let's-play-with-each-other's-meat club. Then the signal came again, and two girls came in. They were real sharp ones, a couple of nice blondes I'd seen around campus. The big-titted kind, beautiful asses, the works. They glanced around as if this was an every-day occurrence, seeing a bunch of guys lying around naked, seeing cocks in all states of hardness. Then they started stripping. Man, my eyes damn near popped out again. I almost went cross-eyed looking from one to another. Those beautiful big tits coming into view, falling down on their chests once they got their brassieres off, all the whitish-pinkish flesh. Beautiful behinds, hips, and then pussies-and that was the first time I'd seen pussy with hair on it-I mean, when I was little I'd looked at little girls, but those were only slits-these were nice big mounds with deep rivers running through them, covered over by forests of blond curly hair. My old prick started jumping back and forth, just dying to get into one of them!
More girls arrived, more of the same. They, too, had been picked for their looks and their abilities to keep their mouths shut about what went on-and, obviously, because they were interested in sex. Man, you've never seen so much beautiful stuff! I guess it was just about all the best-looking, best-equipped girls and boys in the school. I just about went out of my mind seeing all those lovely tits, all that cunt!
It got down to where there were eight boys and six girls, then there was the final signal. Two more girls came in-but one, I noticed, gasped, sort of fell back and ... well, she was obviously new-seeing all that meat just about threw her for a loop! She was a little younger, too, about my age-because, you see, most of them were seventeen and eighteen. Well, the one girl coaxed the other and finally the two of them were undressed, and I'll have to admit that I kind of watched the one with special interest because she was nearer my own age. And she was something! She might have been younger, but she still held her own with the rest. Her tits were nice ones, sort of half-rounded at the bottom, the nipple set right at the end, then sloping upward. Nice, full hips, a narrow waist, and lovely, lovely cunt set between her nice white thighs.
"All right," Brad began when everyone was sprawled around-the girls on the mats with the boys-"we've got a little treat for tonight's meeting. Jimmy got us a new member who's never had a girl, and Julie brought a new member who's never had a boy. We're going to get to see a kid use his cock the right way for the first time-we're going to get to see him get a cherry! Honey"-he smiled down at the girl-"you're going to lose your maidenhead tonight!"
There was a mat right in the middle of the floor. The girl named Julie took the girl she'd brought in and got her laid down on it, then she started working on her. "As you know," Brad sort of narrated, "it is up to the member who brings a new member to get that person ready for the love feast. Julie, you do that. I don't think from the looks of things that Jimmy has to worry about his buddy!"
Julie straddled the girl, her own tits something to see, her own cunt something to look at the way it spread open a little from straddling. She took the girl's tits in her hands and gently massaged them, tweaked the nipples until they were standing out real hard. Then she moved her buttocks down, and slid her hands gently down the girl's body. She started massaging between her legs, playing with her cunt, massaging it, spreading it, massaging it more. "Now," she said, "I'm going to get you a little oily inside so when he sticks his prick in it won't hurt too much." With that she buried her head in the girl's crotch and started working her cunt with her mouth. Stiffened her tongue out and ran it up and down that sweet valley, then stuck it inside, worked it in and out a few times, swirled it around. She pulled her head away, licking her lips and smiling. "She's oiled!" she said proudly.
I hated like hell having all of them watching, but with Jimmy's insistence I finally went over to the pad. Obeying orders from Brad, I straddled the girl's legs, still standing up, so that she could see what she was going to get. Then Brad told her what to do; she got to her knees, took my balls in one hand and started sucking on my cock. That felt terrific, I can tell you! But he wisely didn't let it go on too long; he told her to lie down again, then he told me to lie down with her and do what came naturally. I laid down beside her, took her in my arms, and in a couple of seconds I had almost forgotten the rest of them watching. I kissed her, and she kissed back, our tongues busy in each other's mouth, and I felt all around her back and buttocks, then I pushed her body away a little and played with her tits a bit, ran my hands down to her pussy. Brad had been right, it all came natural-I just somehow knew what to do. I finally got her rolled over on her back, kissed her tits a little, than reached down and got my cock pulled up right. I got the tip right to the mouth of her pussy, and someone said excitedly, "Oh, oh, she's gonna lose her cherry now!"
I eased the head in, she wiggled a little, and it was a warm, nice feeling. I fucked a little, letting her get the feel of that, and she liked it; she spread her legs a little more, giving me plenty of room. I got it in another inch or so, then I felt the head touch up against something-and that, I figured, was the maidenhead Brad had talked about. She felt it, too; she stiffened a little. Julie called out, "Stick it in fast! Shove it all the way in fast, break through that barrier good, get her cherry!"
I obeyed. I shoved the full length of my prick into her, like a guy jamming a knife into a sheath. She let out a little scream and raised up off the floor, and I felt a wetness all around my prick. But Julie yelled out again, "Keep fucking, now's the time to keep fucking, let her have it! Let her get the good feeling of it, she'll forget it hurt!"
I did. My ass was pumping up in the air something wild as I thrust the full length of my prick into her, slid it out, then drove it home again. And Julie had been right; the girl began enjoying it, too. Our lips met, our tongues worked, and she was thrusting her little cunt up to receive my big prick each time I offered it to her. We fucked ourselves to one hell of a climax! "Beautiful! Beautiful!" Julie cried out.
"Great!" Brad commended. "You did a good job there, boy, you're a full-fledged fucker now!" Then he said, "Okay, you members take care of our new members." Jimmy stepped forward, Julie stepped forward. I rolled off the girl, onto my back. Jimmy went down between the girl's legs, Julie went down between mine, and they used their tongues like cat tongues, cleaning our organs. Mine had gone limp, but it still felt good to have her lick it, take it in her mouth and run her mouth up and down on it a couple of times.
That done, the meeting was ready to get back to what it would have been if we hadn't been there-and to what it was from then on, on meeting nights..
Brad had put a long playing tape on his tape recorder-nice music. Now he brought out a bowl that had a bunch of slips of paper in it. Each girl drew a slip, and that was the boy she was paired off with. The one she started with. So it was a boy and a girl on each mat, and they went right at it. Kissing, tit-kissing and sucking, cunt-lapping, cock-sucking, you name it, it was going on! Guys mounted girls, screwed. Then the song ended, and the girls moved. Each went to a different boy, and the action started again. I'd gotten hard again, I was going at it with each girl as she came to me-loving, kissing, eating pussy and getting eaten. The music changed again, the girls moved. It kept up like that, but every once in a while you could hear some guy going out of his mind as he shot off, or some girl gasping as the juice squeezed out of her pussy and ran down her leg. But they still kept going, some of the guys shot four or five times or more, some of the girls, too. Man, you've never seen so many different ways of having sex. Some of the boys even got carried away, they'd reach over and suck another guy's cock a little, and some of girls went down on each other. It was pretty wild, and it went on until the tape ended. And there was no arguing with that, it was a rule. When the music stopped, whoever you were with, you fell apart. So there were sixteen kids, eight boys and eight girls, sprawled all over that room, limp-cocked (or a guy finishing himself off by hand so it could go limp), tired pussies, tits red from being sucked on.
The party was over, and Brad was strict about that. He said we had to get home, to keep anyone from getting suspicious. So we dressed, and then one by one, or two by two, quietly left. But we meet once a month-unless somebody gets especially horny in between times and calls for a special meeting-and we go through that routine every time.
It's really great, honest. And we're ... well, sort of secret pals on campus. You pass a girl you've screwed with, eaten, one who's sucked your cock, you smile at each other and go on. You pass a boy who's been in on it, the same thing. Nobody else knows. We've got a good thing going, we're not going to let anything happen to it.
Of course that doesn't mean you can't have sex in between if you want, and if you want ... well, there's usually one of them who's willing. It's real nice. It sure beats having to track pussy down the way some of the kids at school do-sometimes without scoring at all. And it's a lot more fun doing all those different things, too. Man, you wouldn't believe the different ways you can have sex, the different positions you can get into. The only regret I have is that I'm one of those guys who can only come three or four times in an evening. Man, how I envy those guys who can pop time after time!
Milton S., an eighteen year old boy who looked not too unlike a Greek god, was a member of a teen-aged sex club. He was a tall boy, well-built, with broad shoulders, narrow hips, and strong legs. Blond, blued-eyed, he had the peaceful expression of one of the gods who lived in contentment and maybe even hedonist pleasure on Mount Olympus. But he had a good mind, too, and a fertile imagination. He said:
I'd done a lot of sex stuff, you know. I started out pretty young and had a chance to do a lot of things. People just seemed to like me, they wanted to get me in bed-young people, older people, girls and boys, women and men. So by the time I was seventeen I had just about run the gamut.
I got interested in Greek mythology at one time, and there was one thing in particular that interest ed me. There were two gods that fascinated me: Priapus and Dionysus. They were gods of fertility, noted for their cocks, and worshipped for them. Then I heard about some clubs-they called themselves religions-that worshiped those gods today, so I got hold of some books and read up on them. Well, it sounded pretty good to me-not from the religious standpoint, but just as a chance to make sex a little more interesting.
I started out with one girl. Got her up to my room one time when my folks weren't home and started talking about all this stuff. She was sort of coy and pretending like she was interested in an intellectual sense, but she wasn't interested in sex. Well, I finally said I had to go to the bathroom, but when I came out I was stripped naked-and my old Priapus, my cock, was standing out in front of me. I didn't know it then, but it was the first time this girl had ever seen a hard-on, and I guess she almost fainted. But I walked up between her legs, stuck my cock right in her face, and said, "There, don't you want to worship the Priapus-god?"
It was sort of kicky, but she finally kissed the end of my cock, right on the head, and I guess she liked the feel of it, because she slipped her mouth over the head and sucked on it a little. "Worship, baby!" I told her, because it was really feeling good. She started worshiping, all right! Slid her mouth down more, and she liked the feel of it; she started sliding her mouth up and down on me. Her hand came up between my legs and she was playing with my balls. That was fine, mighty fine, but a guy can only take so much of that! I figured she'd worshiped old Priapus up to the point where he needed to show her that he could be appreciative. I felt her up, squeezing her tits and all, running my hand up under her skirts to feel her pussy. I started to undress her, but she took over for herself, tearing her clothes off and throwing them around the room, then she flopped on her back, spread her legs and there was her lovely pussy just waiting for me. I climbed up over her, kissed her tits, sucked on the nipples, then got to her mouth and started my cock into her. God, it was tight; my old prick had to force its way through those lips, into that juicy cavern, but force its way it did! Then I cracked her, took her cherry, and slid the full thing to her. All nine inches right up into her belly! She went wild; her legs wrapped around mine and while I plunged she came after me. We really fucked ourselves up a lovely little business there!
"I got the idea from that, talked to some of my buddies, and we decided to give it a try. We pooled our resources, four of us, and rented a motel room one Saturday night, then we got four girls, got them a little tipsy, and took them to the room. We made them close their eyes, then we stripped down, and there were four hard cocks standing like soldiers at attention. We told the girls to open their eyes, and there was really some reaction, let me tell you! But I gave them the scoop, just the way I'd read it. A guy's prick was the greatest thing there way. In his nuts, just waiting to be sucked up and shot out through his cock was the seed of life. Having that seed of life, his prick was supposed to be worshiped. I guess I talked up a pretty good story, because in short order there were four girls on their knees worshiping four hard cocks with their mouths, playing with four sets of balls with their hands. Then, laid across the bed, there were four cocks showing four juicy little cunts their appreciation for having been worshiped!
Well, it went on from there, one thing leading to another, until finally it ended up the way it is today. You know how some schools have sororities and fraternities with names like Phi Beta Kappa and all that? Well, ours is W.G.P.-Worship Great Priapus. All our members have little pins with those initials on them, but nobody but us knows what it means. We've got fourteen members, and we meet once a month, rain or shine-in the family room of this kid's house whose parents conveniently take weekend trips once a month.
I started the group, so I'm big cheese. I get to the house first, and this kid has the place all set up. There's a couch there with no back on it, no arms; he pushes that out in the middle of the floor and covers it with a real nice bedspread. There's a table at the head of it, a big candelabrum on that. And incense burning. Well, I strip down and lay down on the couch, completely relaxed; then as each member arrives-the boys first-they strip and sit in a half-circle around the head of it. The girls arrive then; they come in one by one. First they stand in the doorway and take their clothes off, then they come forward, crawl up from the foot, and kiss my cock. Needless to say, after the first one does that I've got a hard-on, so from then on the kiss includes a slide down the whole shaft with their mouth, then back up, another kiss, a kiss to my balls. She climbs up over me then and rubs my cock up and down on her cunt, chanting, "Oh, bless me, great Priapus. Push through my gates and fuck me!" I grab her butt and pull her down on me, splitting her open with my cock, then I let her go. She goes then to find a Priapus in the circle, one she picks out for herself. She bends over and kisses his cock, sucks on it a few times, then gets her hands on his shoulder and pushes him back while she stretches out full length on him, titties crushed into his chest, his prick lying hard and swollen up along the full length of her cunt. The girls keep doing this until there's one lying on top of each boy, one on top of me, then I give a signal. "Worship!" I command.
The girls leap up, get between the boys' legs, and kiss all round there, sucking their balls and all, then they grab hold of their cocks, holding them at the base, and start sucking on them. I judge it by the feeling I'm getting from the girl sucking me off, and when the time is right I order: "Priapuses, show these emits that you appreciate their worship!"
The boys get the girls stretched out, I roll mine over on her back, and we all start in on them. Tittie-kissing, nipple-sucking, belly-kissing-we even eat a little cunt if we want, then finally we start kissing their mouths and ram our rods into them. But the boy has the right then to do what he wants-either to screw his way to a climax, or use some other method if he'd rather. The prick is always king! The great god!
Sometimes, for a little variety, couples will get together, or maybe even more than that. If I'm in the mood I invite one of the other couples up onto the couch with me and my cunt-and that's considered a real honor. This girl who has been invited back has to worship my prick again, then we get going on whatever bit we might decide on. Like maybe one guy eating pussy while the girl he's eating sucks off the other kid, while the other girl sucks off the guy who's having himself a meal. You know, just things for kicks, something to throw in a little spice.
After everybody had shot at least once-and I say that because some guys take a little longer, some other guys can pop two or three times in rapid succession-we go by pairs into the shower. The girl has to give the boy a bath, including soaping him all over, washing his cock and balls really carefully-and if he gets a hard-on from it and wants a blow job right there, she has to do it. Or maybe he'll want to screw her standing up in the shower. What ever the boy wants, that's it. Then when we're all showered we he around relaxing while the girls take their showers, then we're ready to start in again. We keep going until poor old Priapus is completely wilted.
Seventeen year old Sheila G. is a beautifully developed, attractive girl. She has long dark hair, equally long and dark eye lashes that cast shadows on her cheeks. Her breasts are such that men of all ages would find difficulty in not staring at them, and her hips well-rounded below a narrow waist. Firm buttocks, firm thighs, and beautifully shaped legs. She is a studious girl, generally very quiet, and except for her physical beauty one would scarcely think of her and sex together.
But Sheila and sex do go together. She is president of a small group of girls who call themselves, secretly, "The Dildoes." The name comes, of course, from the false penis, the masturbatory aid that some women use in lieu of a male. Elaboration of an idea has made the name of the club a misnomer. Sheila told how it developed:
I was sixteen, I'd had sex a few times with boys, but I was careful because my mother was the preachy type, strict, and scared half to death that I'd get pregnant. An aunt came to visit us; she is much younger than my mother, more nearly my own age, and she shared my room with me the two weeks she was there. We had always gotten along well, but this time-partially because we were sharing the room, and that included sharing the bed-we got even closer. And you know how women talk. We got confidential.
It started the first night, and I think it came partially because we were both very aware of each other's body. I'd been a little shocked when my aunt told me, as she undressed, that she hoped I didn't mind, but she slept in the nude. It did shock me. But when she talked about how good it felt and everything, I decided to try it. So we were in bed, talking, and then she was feeling my body. Massaging my breasts, rubbing her hand over my stomach and even feeling my pussy. Rather casual, you know, but enough to make my face burn with embarrassment. I was thankful that it was dark. Then she wanted to know about my sex life. When I was reticent, she told me about hers first. That she thoroughly enjoyed men, and she found all sorts of variations of sex interesting. She told me some of the kinds she had experienced, and I was dumbfounded!
Well, the next night it started again, the talk, the feeling, and this time I did a little feeling in return. She said that there was nothing wrong with people, even if they were of the same sex, enjoying the feel of each other's bodies. I felt her breasts, which weren't as big as mine but were still big enough, her smooth skin, and her cunt. It was similar to mine, but the lips seemed to be a little more open-I had an idea that it had come from her having had more men in there than I had. And she seemed to have a thicker set of inner lips than mine. Anyway, a little while later she got out of bed. I could only see a vague shadow, but it seemed like she was fastening something around her hips. When she got back into bed she rolled toward me, took me in her arms, and I felt a huge something between my legs. It was a rubber cock, a dildo! I gasped. I ... I didn't know what to do. Well, she finally got me on my back, and she mounted me. Our tits were pressed together, our mouths merged, and she got that big thing up my cunt and was ramming it in and out of me. It was really rather exciting. Except for her tits against mine, it was almost like being with a boy.
She used her hips the same way, and as she drove that big thing in and out of me I felt the excitement growing. I finally creamed all over the place, gasping while she thrust it into me and stuck her tongue halfway down my throat.
We switched. I strapped the dildo around my waist, she got on her back, and I mounted her. Being the boy now, I fucked her to a climax, and she got as big a thrill out of it as I had. Well, I just had to have one of those things, and she promised to send me one after she'd gone home. We used that one every night while she was there. Then she was really great; she gave me that one and said that she would replace it for herself.
My own private prick, tucked safely in my dresser drawer, waiting for any time I wanted to use it! I would take it out some nights and stick it up in me, prod it around the way a boy does-even rub it between my legs, up against my rectum, and finally back in and thrust deep, working to a climax. But it wasn't quite the same-it's much nicer with another body there, with a mouth on yours, a tongue working with yours. I picked out this girl at school whom I liked, and who just happened to be a very attractive person. I worked up to the subject slowly, then invited her over to spend the night-and before the night was over we'd given each other three or four jolly dildo-fuckings. She was just as ape for it as I was. We got together frequently after that.
But it still wasn't the same, or maybe we'd just gotten used to it. Anyway, we introduced a third girl, and we took turns doing it to her-one strapping the dildo on and being the "boy." Then other things got involved, like one of us kissing the other two all over while they did that. Finally we decided that what we had actually discovered was that there can be a lot more fun out of sex when there are more than just two people involved.
The next step was a natural, I guess. I'd gone with this one boy a few times, I had had sex with him, and he was good looking and fairly well hung-so I set up a date with him. I guess he had ideas, because he knew that I had enjoyed screwing with him, but when he saw another girl along with me his face dropped in disappointment. Was he in for a surprise! When we finally got where we could do it, to his confusion we insisted that we all undress-but I'd kissed him up a little, groped him, he was , . hard as a rock, so he was willing to go along with anything. The three of us undressed, and we started in. I had remembered some of the things my aunt had told me, so I led the way. First each of us girls had to taste his cock, taking it into our mouths and sucking on it a while, and that about drove him wild. It was so kicky that we finally got him on his side, and she was with her head between his legs, sucking on his balls, while I was sucking his cock-and he was using his mouth and tongue on my cunt, which drove me sort of out of my mind at the same time. Of course, that made it even better. His liking to eat pussy, I mean. I straddled him so that he could keep his mouth going on me, and my girlfriend got herself in position over his prick, slid her pussy down over it. I leaned back, and she and I kissed while he fucked her, sucked me, and played with our tits at the same time. The three of us came at the same time, a beautifully beautiful feeling, then we sort of crumbled into a heap!
The next step was to introduce a second boy-but by that time the third girl we had brought in had listened to us and gone wild with wanting to get in on it. So this time there were five of us, and we really had ourselves a time. I don't think there was anything we didn't do. The boys really went for it; they suggested that we ought to do it more often, so we decided to form a club. That's what we did, us three girls, and because of the way it had started, we called ourselves the "Dildoes." The two boys kept coming back, and finally they brought a third one; then others, when they had told them about it, wanted in.
We worked out a plan. We all wanted to do it, but we knew that we had to be careful, not let any one in who'd spill the beans and get us in trouble. So us girls "initiated" any girls we thought we might want in. We had a sex scene with at least two girls there with the new one-and we gave the new one a royal fucking with my ever-faithful dildo. Then she had to screw each of us with it, and finally, while it was still moist from being up inside us, she had to suck it. By that time we figured she was prepared, so we took her to the next meeting with the boys.
The boys, meanwhile, had their own routine with boys who wanted in. They'd take them to a secluded area, and the boy would have to prove his willingness to participate in group activities like ours. First he had to strip naked and masturbate in front of the others, then he had to go down on each of them-or let one or two of them use his rectum. But they did it, looking forward to the promised rewards for doing it, and they were allowed at our next meeting.
It got sort of formal. I don't know, I guess people just like to do that-gussie a thing up. Anyway, we had this place where we met. The boys would show up and just strip down, none of them bashful any more because we'd seen their cocks in all conditions of hardness and softness, had them up in us, sucked on them, what not. But as each girl arrived she stripped slowly so that the boys could watch-because they said they never got tired of seeing pretty tits come into view, nice emits open up before their eyes. Then the girl took the dildo, stood in the center of the circle of boys, and shoved it up into herself. "Oh, I"want to fuck!" she sort of chanted, shoving the thing in and out a couple of times. Whatever boy wanted to would grab for her, pull the dildo out, and take her away. The next girl would step up, do the same thing, and eventually there'd be all those naked, writhing bodies, all that hot sex, people squirming around, kissing, loving, fucking, sucking cocks and getting screwed, all different kinds of things at once. It's really great, honest, and we get a kick because nobody knows it's going on. Heavens, if they knew ... !
So you see, from a simple introduction to a beautiful, fake prick, a really terrific club has grown. And we're really better off-we've leaned how to take care of ourselves, none of us will get pregnant. But we have all that wonderful variety of sex, all those different shaped and feeling pricks ... all the excitement and pleasure of our bodies. We run around purring with contentment, a lot happier with our total lives. And the boys ... well, they think it's great, too. And they're a big help, because they're real careful about who they let in. They make sure it's somebody who can give pleasure and take it ... in other words, guys with good builds, nice cocks, and the willingness and desire to be part of it all.
We noticed one thing, though. As time goes by there seems to be a tendency for certain ones to pair off more' and more-they like each other's sex preferences, and they like each other. As a matter-of-fact, two of the older couples ended up getting married. And they've told us that they think their marriage is a lot better because of it; they tried every kind of sex, there's no guessing about it, no secrets; now their own sex life is thoroughly satisfy ing. They use the usual way mostly, but when one of them wants a little variety, they can come right out and ask for it, the other isn't shocked. And if they want to come to one of our meetings once in a while, well, they know they're always welcome.
CHAPTER SIX
TEEN-AGE TROILISM
Teen-aged troilism (sexual activity involving three persons) is another common occurrence during adolescence, and for very good reasons. Not only is it another form of experimentation, a means of finding sexual pleasure through a variety of methods, but it frequently is a case of one individual giving another the courage to do what he is afraid to do alone.
This does not refer to three girls or three boys getting together and experimenting with each other, in what might be called group masturbation sessions. It consists of two persons of one sex, the third being of the opposite sex, and while a certain amount of masturbation is sometimes involved, that is the least significant form of sexual behavior put into effect. My experience with young people indicates that in such threesomes the most common arrangement is for two boys to pair up and find a mutual sex partner; girls pair up less frequently in their search for single sex partners (that is, for a single partner for the two of them).
Quite frequently the practice of troilism by an individual will continue over an extended period, especially if he has such severe inhibitions that he cannot seek a sexual partner on his own. More frequently, however, only one or two such excursions are necessary to give the teen-ager the knowledge and courage that he needs to then go out on his own.
It is obvious that troilism of this sort can serve a very positive purpose, and that in many cases it is actually a form of therapy that brings the individual strength and peace of mind that he would not otherwise have. The sexually inhibited person can be a totally unhappy and unsuccessful individual; he can develop severe emotional and social problems. Such a person, through troilism, may find the necessary courage to achieve sexual satisfaction and, therefore, a better adjustment in his total life.
This does not deny that there are some persons who can find sexual satisfaction only through troilism. There are such persons. Alone with an individual of the opposite sex, they are literally incapable of entering into and completing sex acts of any type. But that type of person is very rare, and especially so among teen-agers; troilism is, instead, merely another form of experimentation, especially helpful during that age when the adolescent is tryto find out what life is all about.
Gerald H. is a sixteen year old boy, tall and good-looking but extremely shy, who found transfer from masturbation to normal sex through troilism. He described the process:
When I think about all that happened, I can see how it happened. My folks, you know, were not very up on things. They were old-fashioned as all get out. And to tell the truth, I don't think they were very happy with their own sex life. Anyway, we just didn't talk about sex-it was one of the
"dirty" words that you don't use. And I was taught from Day One to be modest-not to let anyone see me. With all that, when I started developing I had all kinds of funny feelings. I mean ... well, I was getting hair between my legs, my prick was getting bigger. I ... I was just real conscious of what was happening, that's all. And I had these other kinds of feelings. Wondering about sex and all.
You can't help notice, you know. Some of fie kids say it's because your glands are going to work, they're making you sexy. I don't know if that's the reason or not, but I saw other kids developing, including the girls with their tits and all. And I took more notice of adults ... of women's tits, the bigger kids' cocks, the way they bulged in their pants. I listened to what the other kids talked about.
Well, the first thing you know I was thinking about a lot of things, and it kept giving me hard-ons. Then I found out it felt good to masturbate, so I did that. The two fit together: I'd think about sex things, and I'd end up masturbating. It seemed like the bigger my prick got, the more I masturbated.
My folks still couldn't come right out and talk about sex, but they did a lot of beating around the bush. My old man mustered up the courage for us to have a "father and son" talk, but all he did was mix me up a little more. He told me, briefly, that boys and girls developed, that they were tempted to mess around, but that they shouldn't do it. There was all kinds of trouble if they did.
You may not believe it, but I was sixteen and still all I'd done was look at girls, I'd never even kissed one. Hell, I was almost afraid to talk to them, let alone do anything else. And the rest ... I died a thousand deaths every day in gym, having to strip naked in front of the other kids and shower. I'd do my best to keep my prick hidden, as if they were all interested in that! As if they were all just waiting to look at me!
This new kid moved into the neighborhood, into my class at school. He was almost the same age as me, and he was one of the quieter kids, too. We seemed to just automatically drift together, I guess because we were both quiet. But then when we got to know each other better it turned out it was more than that-it was as if we'd known about each other silently. Anyway, we did get to know each other better, and finally one night he was staying all night at my place. He seemed just as willing as I was for me to turn out the light before we undressed to go to bed-it was that dumb! I couldn't even undress in front of another boy!
Sometime during the night I woke up. This other boy was still asleep, but he had rolled against me; his prick was real hard, and it was pressed right against my butt! Man, it was so warm feeling it almost burned my skin. But more than that, he had his arm around me, and he had hold of my prick. And it was hard! I laid there having all kinds of feelings, dying and liking it and everything all at once. For some reason ... holding my breath, scared silly, I reached around and got his prick and got it between my legs. It was pressed up against my balls, and it felt real good between my legs there. Then I took hold of his hand and moved it up and down on my prick a little, like it was him jacking me off. That felt good, too-somebody else's hand there instead of mine, even if it was mine on top doing it. I wished he'd wake up and was afraid he would, both at the same time. He never did.
I think I must have known-or hoped-that if we had enough chances something would happen. I don't think I was completely sine what that something would be, but it was there. Anyway, I started getting us staying at each other's house as often as possible, and after a couple of times I got real brave. Just after we'd gone to bed I started asking him if he'd ever done anything about sex. Well, one thing led to the other, we ended up with our hands on each other's cock, and we finally jacked each other off. Man, that was messy, but it was an icebreaker! After that we could talk about sex a lot easier, and we even messed around with each other in different positions-you know, like our pricks pressed together between our bellies and screwing to a finish that way, him doing it between my legs and then me between his, things like that.
Well, we both admitted that we would like to do something about girls. We talked about it. About how we thought you'd go about it, what it'd feel like, all that. I think that had something to do with it-I mean, the more you talk about something, the more you just have to do it. We even started talking to girls more and more, sort of building up to something.
This other kid did it first. He went out and got himself a piece of ass! Oh, it wasn't quite that easy ... He took this girl to a show, one thing led to another, and she happened to be a pretty experienced girl who liked to play around, so they ended up doing it. It was more her doing than his, but he'd done it-he'd poured his meat to a girl! And he'd really gone for it, he told me it was great, I just had to do it. The only trouble is, saying you want to do something is one thing, doing it is another. Just the thought of even approaching a girl with something like that in mind still scared the hell out of me.
My buddy took the reins in his own hand. He took this girl out a couple of more times, screwed her both times, then he got this idea that he didn't tell me about. One night he said we were going some place, and when we got there, there she was!
Sixteen years old like us, a nice-looking girl, and while her tits weren't the biggest in the world, they were still nice-like a couple of headlights in her tight sweater! They started necking a little, and I felt like a fish out of water. Like a third wheel. I mean, it was sort of embarrassing-they were kissing like crazy, he was feeling her tits and all, and she was playing with his hard-on through his pants. I tried not to look, but I couldn't help looking, and I wanted to leave but couldn't. Then he's got his hand up under her skirt, it was clear up ... well, he was playing with her pussy. The next thing, he's got her blouse loose, her brassiere unsnapped, and her tits are showing all over the place. Bigger and more beautiful once they were loose, nice big nipples on the end of them. Then he pulled his face away, winked at me. "Come on, pal, give her a kiss or two!"
I ... Well, hell, I ended up kissing her, and not only kissing her but feeling her tits at the same time, even moving my head down to kiss them. My buddy was busy at the same time; he had pulled her skirt off, and he was up between her legs. What he was doing there with his tongue was really firing her up; she was kissing me all the juicier just because he was driving her insane down there. The first thing I knew ... Well, we stripped, all three of us, stark naked, and I'd forgotten all about being bashful. I was too damned hot to worry about it. He got busy between her legs again, I straddled her, and she took my prick into her mouth. What she did with that! Licked it, kissed it, slid her mouth up and down on it, and playing with my balls all at the same time. I'd never felt anything like that, it was really great. But there was something I wanted first ... pussy! I wanted to feel what it was like to get my prick up inside a girl and "do it."
Well, with my buddy lying there beside us, playing with her tits as best he could, his hard-on pressed up against her side, I straddled her. I kissed her on the mouth again, and rubbed my prick all around there, and it really felt good. Then she laughed, told me to roll over on my back. Once I was there, she did the straddling; sort of half-sitting, she had her pussy right over my hard prick. She took hold of my prick, pulled it straight up, then slowly lowered herself. I felt the head brush through the hair and come to the flesh, to those two lips, then it started pushing through-man, oh, man it sank into her inch by inch, and it sent real shivers through me to feel my prick disappear into her warm, wet hole. Then she slid up and down on it a few times, and that almost sent me into orbit! I started doing my own fucking, rearing up to bury it in her, dropping-ass, rearing up again. Meanwhile she pulled my buddy in front of her, his legs straddling me, and she went to work on his prick with her mouth while I kept screwing her. She started helping; started sliding down to meet me as I drove up, and all the time sucking away on his cock and playing with his balls. Man, when I shot I thought the end of the world was coming. She shot, too; I could tell from the way her cunt was acting, from the way her butt was sort of squirming around, and I felt our hot jizzum merge and come seeping out around my cock and drip down me. My buddy shot off, too, damned near falling off his feet.
Well, it was out in the open, we could really talk about it now. But more than that, I felt great-I'd gotten over that horrible hurdle. Man, I'd been with a girl with a hard-on, I'd fucked her, and nothing but good had come of it. Who said sex was bad, sex was trouble? Man, my old man had fed me a lousy bill of goods. This was nothing but great!
I still couldn't go out on my own. I dunno, even screwing her that way, I still couldn't get the courage. I had the feeling that if my buddy wasn't along to get it started and keep it going, I just couldn't do it. So that's the way we worked it. The two of us would go together, we'd see a girl we agreed on, and he'd go to work. It didn't always work, but it did often enough; the three of us would go someplace and have a ball. Then little by little I started taking over, showing some of the initiative, like ... well, like there'd be something I'd think I'd particularly like to do, so I'd push for it. like ... well, maybe I'd be in the mood for a good screwing, so I'd tell him to just lie aside-I'd jack him off while I screwed the girl. Or maybe I'd want a blow job from her, she'd do it to me while he was busy between her legs.
Finally, after several times of that, I decided one night to try it on my own. Of course, it was sort of a cowardly try-I mean, I didn't go looking for a new girl, I went after one we'd had together-but I went after her, I talked to her, and I screwed her!
Gerald had gotten his sea legs! Through troilism, he had lost his inhibitions and fears, found himself as a sexual being, and developed courage. From there he moved on to a healthier development because of it. For him it was filling a definite need when that need might not otherwise have been filled.
There are others, however, for whom troilism is just a matter of circumstance-a situation arising, the opportunity for new experimentation, new excitement, and they plunge into it from that standpoint. Karl Y. was an example of that. A strong, pleasant seventeen year old, he told the following story:
I'd done all right, you know: I mean, I'd gone the route. Played with other little kids when I was little-and I mean played with each other's sex parts along with toys and games! When I got older and found out what it was all about, I jacked off for kicks, and even did a little of that with other kids around the neighborhood. There was five or six of us, as a matter-of-fact, who used to go swimming a lot at a place where we swam bare-ass, and just as often as not, from all the horsing around that went on, we'd end up with a gang jacking off party!
I was about fourteen, almost fifteen when I got my first piece of ass. There was no big deal about it. This girl and I went out, we played around a little, we both got hot pants, and we fucked. It was as simple as that! When a kid's kissing a girl and feeling her up, squeezing her tits and even getting to her pussy a little, and when she's feeling his hard-on up against her, well, if they don't end up with their pants down and him sticking it to her, there's something the matter with 'em, I'd say! And because I happened to like it-I guess I have a pretty hungry sex-appetite-I turned into a little bit of a pussy chaser. I mean, I had to have a little every week or so or I was beating my poor meat half off!
I don't want to sound stuck up, but the truth is, people seem to like me. Besides that, I'm pretty well hung, and it shows through my pants-I guess I even make sure that it does. I don't wear shorts, Frinstance, and I get my prick and balls arranged so there's a good-sized lump there. The girls look at it, I know that-and some of the older women do, too. So that was my next excursion into the finer points of sex. I guess up until then I figured that was it-you know, kissing a girl's tits and all while you're pouring the meat to her. Straight sex, the kind mama and daddy do, the kind that makes babies if you're not careful. The way the hygiene teacher hinted-a boy has a prick, a girl has a cunt, that's two and two and you add them together to get the answer, which happens to be a guy's prick up the girl's cunt.
There was this woman who did housework around the neighborhood. She was about twenty-eight or thirty, a widow, and she was doing that to make a living-I guess until she could get herself another man. Anyway, she cleaned our house once a week. We'd done a lot of talking, and one time ... Well, it'd been a hot day, I'd played football with some guys, so I went home in the middle of the afternoon to take a shower. I'd just stepped out, hadn't even gotten hold of the towel, when the door opened and there she was. "Oh!" she says. "I didn't know you were in here!" But she didn't move. She just stood there and looked at me, concentrating on my utility department. I couldn't help but notice that, and I couldn't help but notice that she wasn't bad looking. I guess I'd just taken her for granted before. Now I was seeing a good set of tits straining against her dress, and a nice hip section. The kind that makes you think pussy country might be real great. So there we stood, staring at each other, and old Junior starts getting ideas. He starts stretching out and getting hard, lifting his head and saying "How dee do!" to her. I only had about six or seven inches at that time, but that seemed to be enough to fascinate her!
Well, you can guess what happened. Into my bedroom we went, she got stripped down, and I'd been right. Those tits were mighty fine once they got out in the open; cute little nipples that stiffened under your tongue. And a pussy that was out of this world. Man, I was kissing her tits and playing with that pussy, having myself a time, getting it all warmed up and juicy so that Junior could find his way home. Then she's kissing me on the mouth and she's got hold of my cock, stroking it, loving it with her hand, and I'm waiting for her to stick the head down in her crack, getting it into position so I can start driving it home. But she doesn't do that. All of a sudden she pushed me over with more strength than you'd expect a woman to have; I'm on my back and she's turning around. She's got her pussy in my face, and before I even come to she's sucking the hell out of my prick. Got my balls in one hand, got her mouth over it, and just giving it one hell of a nice time. Well, I'm smelling nice stuff there, that pussy I thought I had all warmed up for Junior, and there seemed to be only one thing to do. I did it.
I got hold of her ass end, two handfuls of nice, firm buttocks, and I started lapping up cunt. She had her legs spread nice, so I could really get at it. Licked all round, licked up and down that slit, dug my tongue in a little deeper. Got my tongue stiff, ready for the plunge, but she beat me to it; feeling it creeping in, she shoved herself down clear over it, burying my face in pussy and pussy-hair. Then, me lashing my tongue around in the sweet, dark cavern, her sucking away on my cock, her tits hot against my belly, she fucks on my tongue while I'm rubbing her ass and feeling this great surging in my prick. All of a sudden she's quivering under my tongue, and juice is spewing! At the same time I'm fucking up a storm because I can't help myself, then I pushed off the bed, ramming my prick halfway down her throat, and I shoot like I've never shot before. Glory hallelujah, who ever said sex was a guy shoving his prick up a girl's cunt? This was sex, man, this blast off was like none I'd had yet.
Needless to say, these girls I'd been going out with before, those nice little pussies I'd filled with myself, were in for a few surprises. They found out what it was like to go at it that way and most of them went for it. One girl said she liked it even better, my prick had been big enough it had sort of hurt her before, but this way we both got off our jollies with no pain. Lots of sweat but no pain. So I added that to my repertoire-and every once in a while switched over to it from straight sex.
Well, I guess you've gathered that I like sex, I'm real interested in it, and I go for anything that makes it a little more exciting. I'm game to try anything at least once, and if I like it I keep using it. So one day....
Well, let me back up. This housekeeper I talked about. She hadn't been satisfied with one flop in the hay. She told me later that she had actually been half sex starved since her husband died, and when she'd seen me naked she just couldn't help herself. I guess once a woman's had prick she wants it more than some woman who's never had it. Anyway, she had her housework to do, and it would have been taking chances to screw around at my place anyway, so after that I went by her house evenings every once in a while. Any time I wanted. I didn't take any mushy talk, I'd just show up, we'd strip and head for the bedroom and a jolly har-de-har time. But she liked variety, too, so we did some straight fucking, more of the other, and I even got her dog fashion a couple of times. But then one night she came up with a brilliant idea. "Don't think I don't like you and your prick," she said, "don't think I'm not satisfied with both, because I am, but...." But wouldn't it be kind of fun, she asked, if I brought a friend along some time? Some boy we could trust to keep his mouth shut (that is, not to talk-hell, he couldn't have kept his mouth shut during a sex scene if he'd tried). I thought about it, and it seemed like it had plenty of elements of kicks ... so I agreed, and I started looking around for the right boy.
This may sound stupid, but I really checked them out. I mean, after all, if it was going to be a fun party, everything should be as perfect as possible. So I started casing the guys in gym, giving all their cocks the going-over, trying to figure out which one would get the hardest, the biggest, all that. Listened to them, too, to find out which ones had been around the most, which ones really had a nice sex interest. I finally settled on a good-looking kid named Jerry, got him aside, got the conversation around to sex, and then broached the subject. Man, his prick stuck out against his pants, his eyes sparkled and he was hot to trot right on the spot! I cooled him, telling him I'd set it up, but I'd lay dimes to doughnuts that the idea had gotten him so excited he went some place and beat his meat.
Anyway, I set it up, and that evening friend Jerry-equipped with a hard-on from the minute I met him-and I went to this woman's house. She let us in, dressed in a practically nothing housecoat, and stared down at his hard-on once she'd checked out his face and upper body. I could tell from the look on her face that she approved, that she was looking forward to funsies a la mode. It was pretty obvious how Jerry felt; seeing her half-exposed tits, seeing the idea of her cunt under that flimsy housecoat, he just gaped at her with his mouth hanging open and his prick wishing it was hanging out. Of course, mine wasn't like jello. "So let's get the show on the road," I said, and we did.
We hardly reached the bedroom before she slipped out of her housecoat, and there was her lovely body with no secrets. Jerry looked at those lush tits and damn near drooled, he looked down at her cunt and was ready to fuck. It was almost funny; he didn't undress, he ripped his clothes off; he was naked before I was even half finished. So they were lying on the bed making mad love, him crushing her tits into his chest and rubbing his prick all around between her legs, tonguing it to glory road with her. When I was stripped I broke it up, almost forcing them apart, not wanting them to forget that I was supposed to get in on the act. But this was all new to me, so I said to her, "Okay, baby, this was your idea, where do we go from here?"
She had her own ideas, and they were for a nice, long, constantly changing affair. We started out by me straddling her at the hips, burying my prick up her cunt as far as I could get it and thrusting it in and out as best I could from that position while Jerry straddled her further up, his buttocks resting lightly on her tits while she sucked on his cock; we switched, and that was nice, that upper-story business. Her tits were hot and nice under my buttocks, my nuts laid against her throat and chin, and she knew the techniques of tonguing and sucking until you almost went berserk. The next step was for Jerry to lay on his back, she got on her knees between his legs and went to work on his prick; I got behind her and shoved my big wedge up there, spreading those pussy lips and ramming it to her dog fashion. Man, I almost popped my cookies on that one, but she knew when to pull away at just the right time. But we were hot, all of us, hot, and the jizzum all built up and dying to burst out, so she got between us, one of us lying on each side, and while I kissed her mouth Jerry played with her tits, and she jacked us both off to a finish.
She cleaned us up with a wash rag, we rested a few minutes, then we started out again. This time she got between my legs, lying half on her back but with her hips turned so her cunt was exposed, and while she went to work on my prick again with her mouth Jerry went in for some between-the-legs munching. It was a little awkward, but I could get hold of her tits with my hands and have a field day with them, rubbing them, massaging them, tweaking those hard nipples and wanting like hell to suck them. But I didn't want Jerry to take all that tasty morsel, so we switched positions, she went to work on his prick while I went to work on her juicy cunt. Man, she liked that tonguing, she liked being fucked by a tongue, and this time, whether she wanted to or not, she shot off, she really gave me a mouthful! You'll never believe the next position-I don't know how we managed to get into it. Anyway, Jerry had his prick up her ass, I had mine up her cunt-and I guess they were meeting inside every time we clashed! But at the same time I was sucking on one of her tits, he'd hauled the other around and was sucking as best he could on that. Munching on those beautiful titties, shoving our dicks in and out of her like a couple of thrashing machines, we finally popped again. Man, she got flooded, front and back!
That one put me out of the race. I honest to God fell over on my back and I was shot down. I couldn't have gotten hard again if the Queen of Sheba had started sucking on me. But old Jerry, he's got an active prick, he can build up load after load, and he went right back after her. Buried his meat up her cunt and romped his way to another pop-off! I guess you know, that was some scene! He spent the night at my place, and fucked out as we were we kept talking and talking about it, and he started in yelling for a repeat. Then he got hold of my meat, sort of horsing around, and he said, "You know, one thing I really was tempted to do for a while, but I got side-tracked ... I had the strongest urge to suck on your cock while I was pouring it to her. I want to try that next time."
Corny as it may sound, that appealed to me. I don't know why, I just thought it'd be something. I started figuring out how we could work it ... he'd have his big dick up her, he'd be sucking my prick, and I'd be kissing her tits. Now I was the one that was hot for a repeat ... and when it came time, we not only tried that, we tried some other things. Then from her we moved to other girls-or I should say to-girls. I guess we've had little parties like that with at least half a dozen, and when you get one going on it, they go as far out of their minds as you do!
We developed a strategy. One of us would go out with a broad, see. Sometimes it took maybe two or three dates, the warming up period, before we finally got into her pants. But once she'd see how lovely that could be, if she hadn't had a hunk of meat poured to her before, we started in whetting her interest in the other. like you'd just shot off into her, see, you'd rolled over on your side. So you'd take her in your arms, press your limp cock against her leg, and mess with her tits a little more, maybe give her pussy a little more attention, then you'd start in on ... oh, like, "You ever think what it'd feel like to get a guy's prick up this sweet thing here and at the same time have one to work with your mouth?" Something like that to get them interested. Sometimes they went for it right away, sometimes you had to screw them a time or two more, but eventually you could set it up-then the three of us would get together and it was party-time! And once they'd done it, they were ready for it again!
Then too, the girls themselves helped us. You know, girls talk about sex just as much as boys do, so these girls we'd gone the three-way route with, they'd go back and tell their girl friends about it. I can just hear them. "Last night the best thing happened! I got two big cocks at the same time! Honest! I took one up my pussy, the other one in my mouth!" The other girls, they'd get all interested
... we even had a couple of them hint around to us, so we took them on. That kind of stuff, you just wouldn't pass up the chance.
I don't know if I should tell you this or not, but-well, what the hell, I've told you everything else. You know, kids are interested in all kinds of sex. You just can't help but be. Hell, I'll bet even the churchy kids think about it, might even sneak around and do it. Anyway, old Jerry and I, when we hear about something new, we want to try it. So this time ... Well, one of the other kids told us about being in town, some guy started talking to him, ended up taking him to his place and giving him a blow job. Hell, we knew what blow jobs felt like-we'd given each other blow jobs, girls had worked on us-but there was something about that that seemed sort of exciting. I mean ... well, like maybe getting a blow job from a queer would be different than getting one from someone else.
Anyway, downtown we go, down to where this kid had said ... a movie house. We separated, sat at opposite ends of a row of seats. You see, this kid had said the guy sat next to him like he was watching the movie, started feeling him up. It happened, just like he'd said. Some guy sat next to me, a fairly young, not bad looking guy. Next thing, his knee's against mine, then sure enough, his hand is in my crotch and he's got hold of my prick. When it gets hard he plays with it all the more, even unzipped me and stuck his hand inside. So when he wants to leave, I told him sure, but I had a buddy I wanted to have go along.
He was hesitant, scared-like for a couple of seconds, but then he said it was okay. We went up to his place and Jerry and I drop our pants. When he sees those two hunks of meat sticking out there he's really out of his mind, can't figure out which one to go for first. He finally decided on Jerry's, got him on the bed and started in on him. Then all of a sudden it seemed to me, why couldn't this be a threeway? So I felt the guy's ass, got hold of his balls through his pants, his cock. Hell, man, that was enough. I stripped his pants off him while he was still working on Jerry, his old butt was sticking up there nice and pretty as you'd like. So with Jerry getting his dong worked over, I rammed my prick up this guy's tight glory-hole, and I really banged myself off a piece! The guy liked it. We hung around. When we'd rested up enough we went back at it-in reverse. Me lying on my back and getting a really skillful blow job, Jerry shooting his rocks off up the guy's brownie.
It was all right, it was kicky, but the girl stuff is still the best.
Betty R. and Susan L. were an example of the rare occasion when two girls will form a team that sets out to initiate a troilistic situation. Betty was sixteen, Susan seventeen; both .were relatively attractive, with fine young bodies-although Susan had larger breasts then Betty, and from the onset had had more experience. Susan was also the procuress, if we care to use that term. She reported:
Both Betty and I had had affairs with boys; we both started fairly young. One night we went out on a double date, but for some reason Betty's date pushed the panic button when it got around to sex. I guess he was young, inexperienced, and scared. Anyway, he took off. Betty was going to leave when it suddenly dawned on me that it might possibly be fun if she joined my date and I.
Fun! That's putting it mildly. This boy was fit to be tied, having himself a ball trying to love us both up at once. When we finally got stripped-which didn't take long-the fun really began. But also, when I saw the size of his cock, I wasn't about to give it up to anyone! He started for my tits-the boys always do that-and Betty started playing around with his cock. Well, I let her have a little fun with it, then I got things the way I wanted. That meant that I was in the cock-and-ball department, and it was up to Betty to take care of other things the way she wanted. She was kissing him, he was mauling her tits, and I was sucking away on him-ut I wanted that thing in me, not in my mouth, so I slowly pulled up, got situated, and then slid down over it. Oh, God, I love the feeling of one of those big things sliding up into me that way! I guess that did things to him, too, because he let go of Betty's tits, grabbed her by the hips, and the first thing you know she was straddling him-and while I enjoyed myself sliding up and down the flagpole, he tongued her to a screeching orgasm. We had ours together, a pretty wild one.
We did that occasionally thereafter, having found out that it could really be enjoyable. But we found nice things about our own bodies, too-I mean, about each other's bodies. You know, neither one of us would have been lesbian, we would have been violently against any lesbian trying anything with us, but with a big cock in the middle of the action, a boy's mouth, it made things different. I guess you're just keyed up, your sensitivities higher than a kite-anyway, before long while one of us was screwing, while the other ,vas getting a tongue job, we found real pleasure in fondling each other's breasts, even in kissing each other. Especially when it came time for an orgasm; her shooting all over his mouth, me creaming as he rammed his pole into me and creamed, and our mouths almost welded together in French kisses. Things that would have been awful otherwise were beautiful, desirable, love Liking it, we perfected it. I've been tempted to write a book, maybe even illustrating it, on the different ways of having sex that way. For instance, along with what I've already told you ... well, imagine a girl on her knees, the boy comes up behind her. He slides his big prick between her legs, runs it around there; she reaches back and guides it to her entrance, then he slowly and beautifully thrusts it in, inch by inch! The other girl straddles her back, and the boy leans down to take her pussy into his mouth, to love it, lick it, then start running his tongue in and out of it, playing with her tits at the same time. Or one girl sucking the boy off while the other girl goes down between her legs-because we found out that that could be pretty nice, too.
We found out that chairs can be as helpful as beds. For instance, the boy sits, or slouches, in the chair. One girl can get between his legs and have full access to-that lovely cock-and-ball department while the other girl straddles the arm and thus gives him full access to her cunt. Or one girl can sit in the chair, the other half-sitting on the floor in front, and he can get his prick up the one while he's got his mouth in cherry-land on the other. There are all sorts of variations, it's a kick to try to figure out new ones.
You might not think boys would go for this kind of thing, but they do. They might be a little hesitant, a little awkward at first, but once the action starts they forget all that. Well, the minute we start in on them they do, but when they see two girls stripping down they're just about beside themselves ... so if they'd held back any, that's all forgotten. Pricks go to full attention, and Betty and I, the Do-Some Twosome, go into action. That sets the boy off, and away we all go. Titty-rump, titty-ump, titty-rump-rump-rump and away!
I don't mean that we don't go on solos, because we do, and we thoroughly enjoy them. I guess a person always would enjoy a good, old-fashioned fucking. But on something like that ... well, it's wild, that's all. Wild and wonderful. It's fucking with frills, and we like it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ADOLESCENT HOMOSEXUALITY
During the latent period in normal child development, generally consisting of from age six to age ten, a certain amount of homosexuality is considered normal. Boys will band together with boys, and girls will band with girls, with the groups remaining separate. Where there is sexual experimentation during this period, it is generally between members of the same sex-and it is normal and natural.
But the child doesn't suddenly cease having homosexual tendencies or ideas when he reaches the age of ten. Indeed, both the tendencies and the practices frequently not only continue but grow a little stronger, because the sexual glands are functioning more strongly, stimulating the sexuality of the individual. It has been my experience, from interviewing hundreds of youngsters of all ages, that in the early days of puberty many who had actually gone through the "normal" homosexual period without experiencing homosexuality will find themselves entering into it because their sexuality is awakened, because they have a closeness with friends of the same sex, and because it is a normal drive to experiment with sex and sexuality. Two boys sleeping together will fondle each other's organs, find them erect, and because of the sensations they are having go on to orgasm. The same with two girls; they may fondle each other's breasts, interested in the growth of them as compared to their own, and experiment with each other's vagina. With those body parts being extremely sensitive, this experimental play frequently leads to actual sexual experiences. Many girls, partially from instinct and partially from the things that they have heard, will experiment with introducing various objects to their own vaginas and to those of their close friends-again, frequently to the point of orgasm.
The tendency and the normal trend is to move on from these same-sex experiments and experiences to those involving the opposite sex. The individual moves further away from that natural homosexuality and more toward the normal heterosexuality that will be expected of him. If all goes well, he makes the transition with few problems.
But as the individual moves into adolescence, as has been pointed out earlier, he is only too well aware of-and very conscious of-his own sexuality. With his body changing, with new avenues for pleasurable sensations being opened to him, unless his training has been extremely strict he will experiment with any form of sexuality that becomes available. That frequently involves a mixture of homo-and heterosexuality.
Ironically enough, even as the average boy moves toward manhood-and sees manhood as expressed at least in part by his ability to "make it" with women-he retains an interest in homosexuality. Given the opportunity, he generally will experiment with it. It can again only be pointed out that such experimentation is not the earth-shaking thing that far too many adults make it out to be; evidence indicates that it is not at all unnatural nor even particularly unhealthy. If the individual's background has not been such that he will find so much psychological satisfaction through homosexual experiences that he cannot move on (and that includes not only sexual gratification, but deeper feelings toward and frequently shared with other persons of the same sex), he will, in fact, move on with no ill effect from the experiences. (This is probably true to a lesser extent with girls-while there is homosexuality among females, it is apparently not as rampant as it is between males.)
At any rate, during the course of the interviews I conducted with hundreds of teen-agers preparatory to the compiling of this book, I discovered that experimentation involving homosexuality is not at all uncommon. If anything, the number of boys who do participate thus is growing, especially because the "veil of secrecy" has been removed and homosexuality is more out in the open, and because of the more liberal general approach to sex.
I am, of course, speaking of homosexual experiences per se, as opposed to the almost accidental introduction of homosexual elements in the cases cited in the previous chapters. And in speaking of such cases, I would divide them into two main groups: the boys who experience homosexual relations as a result of chance meetings or opportunities, and those who, because they have heard about it, deliberately set out to find a sex partner of the same sex. In the majority of these cases the younger boy is the passive partner in the homosexual relation-he is only experimenting in terms of what the sensations for his own person are. He does not often reciprocate. In the parlance of the homosexual population, this boy is "trade"-or, in the more blunt words of such a person, "He's one who'll he back and be blown, but won't blow in return."
Jack S. is an example of a boy who entered a homosexual experience-or who experimented with homosexuality-as a result of a chance meeting. Given the opportunity, curious as most youngsters are, he became a part of the experience. He gave the following account:
I'm seventeen, I've had a bit of experience. Nothing to write a book about, but I'm satisfied. I'd done a lot of fiddling around, playing the field, and finally I settled down and started going steady with this one girl-we'll probably eventually get married, when I get out of school and find a job.
Anyway, going steady-well, you just naturally get closer to a girl than if you just go out with her once in a while. You get to know more about her and she gets to know more about you. Not only about what you think and feel and all, but ... well, physically. In other words, we'd started having sex and we both liked it, so whenever the time was right we went to bed together. She's got a beautiful body, I love to feel it. I could spend a night running my hands over her, kissing her all over. Lovely breasts, big without being too big,-nice nipples that perk up when I tongue them , and ... well, we're a good fit when we get going. Before, I had trouble getting into some girls, but not Brenda. She knows how to relax but at the same time help me until I get it worked into her, then it's snug as a bug in a rug, to use an old expression, and we go for that. Sometimes we just lie there for a long time with my prick buried in her, feeling real close, then we start in and move slowly to a beautiful, mutual climax.
This one evening I found myself especially interested in having sex for some reason. I don't know, maybe I'd heard or seen something, maybe I was just in the mood. Anyway I was hot for it but wouldn't you know ... she had the rag on! Well, we necked a little, but that's for the birds. I mean, necking only gets you hotter, if you're not going to be able to finish it off, you better stay away from it. At least that's the way I figure. So I left early.
I was walking along when this car went by, sort of slow. It turned the corner and disappeared, but then it came back. A sort of youngish fellow, maybe in his late twenties, not bad looking. He asked if I wanted a ride, so I got in. I don't know why, maybe I was just pent up with it or something, but I told him my sad tale of woe-that I'd been hot to go, but my girl had been out of commission. He sort of chuckled. "So what's the next step?" he said. "Does that mean you go home and jack off?"
It sort of threw me, embarrassed me a little, but I laughed and said, "Yeah, that's probably what'll happen." Because the truth is, that probably is what would have happened. When I get going I've got to keep going, one way or another.
He put his hand on my leg. "You're a good looking kid, it seems a shame to waste all that talent on the hand method. You ever think of substitutes?"
Well, I swallowed; I felt funny as hell. I mean ... Well, I don't know what I mean. I wasn't exactly sure right at that moment what he had in mind. So, stalling, I asked him what he meant. His hand moved up; his fingers were lying limply over my cock-but my damned cock decided that it didn't want to be so limp. Maybe it caught on before I did. Anyway, it started stretching out, swelling, going big down my leg and under his hand. "As long as your girl can't take care if you, why not come with me? That'd be better than beating your meat, wouldn't it?"
I gave it one hell of an argument. I mean ... well, I'd heard a little about homosexuality, not a hell of a lot, just enough to have the general impression that it wasn't the thing to do. But I was hot, I was hard, his hand did feel good on my cock, and he seemed like a nice enough guy. "Well," I sort of stuttered, "what ... what do you mean by substitute? What'd happen?"
He chuckled. "That'd be partly up to you. Except...."
When he didn't go on I asked him. "Partly up to me and except what?"
"Well," he answered, "my first thought would be that a boy like you, hot to fuck his girl, might want a substitute cunt. Namely, in this situation, my ass. But from the feel of your cock ... Well, I'm not sure I could take it. You've got quite a hunk of meat there, fella!"
"Well ... well, then, what's the 'except'? Or is that it? I mean, if you couldn't take it in the ass, then that's it, huh?"
"No," he said softly, "there's an alternative." He pulled over to the side of the road in a sort of dark place. "Pull your pants down, take your cock out. I'll give you a sample and you can see if you want to go to my place and finish."
Well, hell, I told myself, why not? What did I have to lose? I undid my pants, slipped them down over my legs. My old prick was right up there, willing and able. He leaned over, and I felt his mouth on it. He licked the head real gently with his tongue, circled his tongue around the whole big head, and it sent good feelings through me. Then he slid his mouth down over the shaft, moved his head up and down a couple of times, and man, I raised up clear off the seat! That was some kind of a feeling! And the more he did it, the better it felt; all of a sudden my old ass was moving. I was shoving it in and out of his mouth while he moved his mouth up and down on it. Then he pulled away. "What do you say?"
"Well, that's a pretty stupid question!" I half-laughed. "Man, if you'd kept that up a couple of more times you'd have gotten a mouthful!"
"Want to go finish it off, then?"
Like I said, that was a stupid question. We went up to his apartment, a fairly nice place, and he said that there was no reason for formality. As long as we knew what was going to happen anyway, why didn't I strip. "Why strip?" I asked him. "You can get at it like that." With it hanging out my pants, I meant.
He shook his head. "This is obviously your first experience; I want it to be a nice one. One you'll remember!"
What he meant was that when I was naked and lying on the bed, he started in. I wouldn't have believed it! If anyone had told me that it was going to happen I'd have rebelled, but there I was, lying naked on his bed, my cock hard as a rock, and he started in. He started kissing me, little kisses all over my shoulders and chest, down my belly, all around my cock and up and down it. Under my scrotum, all around my balls, down my legs! Honest to Pete, it damned near drove me nuts, the sensations were so great. Then he took hold of my prick right at the base, hunched between my legs, and lowered his mouth to it. Kissed it again. Real lovingly, licked the head all around, then slid his mouth over it again. His mouth started moving up and down; I started getting that good feeling. My ass quivered, then it went into action. I got his head between my hands and I started fucking him in the mouth, raring to meet his mouth every time he slid down over it. I don't know that it felt any better than a pussy-even any better than Brenda's tight pussy-but it felt mighty awful god damned good.
When I shot it was as good as any shooting I'd ever done. Damned near turned me inside out. My old prick fired off, then it fired again and again, about six times before I finally went limp all over.
He'd been right about one thing. I remembered it later. I remembered it enough that the next time things didn't work with Brenda and I, it didn't bug me. I headed straight for his apartment. A guy's mouth may not be a pussy, but it sure beats a hand job all to hell! And I had learned one thing for sure-it doesn't hurt you at all. I can still give Brenda the full treatment, that's still my preference, but ... like he said, that's a fine substitute when you can't get the real thing. He gives me sensations that even Brenda can't give me. I wouldn't have gone out looking for it, but I'm glad I ran into it!
Fred G. was another seventeen year old, a fairly good looking boy with a good build. He was popular among his peers, which also meant that his sex life was far from lacking (as he pointed out), but he had heard about homosexuality and wanted to experiment. He went looking for the opportunity. He recalled:
I guess I'm just a curious person, and when it comes to sex I'm all the more curious. I like to try all kinds of things. I like to compare things. Like girls' tits. I make it a hobby of comparing girls' tits-inside their dresses and then, if I'm lucky, when they're outside. I like to look at asses, hips and thighs, and try to figure out what the pussy is going to be like-a flappy one from a lot of use, or a nice tight little one. That sort of stuff.
When it comes to the bed scene, I go in for straight fucking when the time is right, but when ever I get the chance, I like to play around a little, get in something a little different. Sometimes I try three or four different kinds of things with the same girl, the same night-because once I get going, I can pop anywhere from six to eight loads, and I like to. So, say I go out with a girl. It's the first time, I'm being cagey. I feel her up, get her hot, get her naked, and pour it to her straight. She thinks I'm a nice, normal boy who just likes to dip his candle in her candle holder the way her mama told her boys would start wanting to do. But then I go into what her mama probably didn't tell her ... a nice little siege of doing it doggie-fashion, 'cause that's an altogether different kind of feeling. Next go-round, she says her pussy's too tired, so I start kissing it, being sympathetic, you know, but that kissing gets her riled up again, especially when I start slithering my tongue in and out-but at the same time she starts doing things she probably never even thought about. Namely, reaching out for my prick and wrapping her sweet lips around it! She goes for it so that when I dump a load she swallows it, thinking nothing about it! Maybe she has, maybe she hasn't, dumped a load for my taste buds, it doesn't make that much difference. If she's still too tired, I just love her up, and loving her up, my love organ gets hard against her belly again-I sing the blues, and while we're kissing and I'm messing with her tits, she jacks me off. Anything for kicks, that's me, the bigger the variety the better.
Well, when I was younger, maybe around eleven or twelve, I'd done my share of jacking off-and I'd gotten together with friends of mine and we'd done it together. It's not a hell of a lot to remember, because at that time you've still got little old pricks that ought to be ashamed of themselves; they're trying to be big men but they're still little fingers. But I get to remembering that a little, especially when I hear the guys yakking about queer stuff. They talk about all that, you know, whether they do it or not. I think half of them want to, the way they use the right words ... like suck my cock, bend over I'll fuck you in the ass ... I think they really want those things to happen. Well, I thought about it, and I did. I wanted to try everything, and I'd tried just about everything there was to try with girls.
There's a bar in our town where the "gay" kids hang out-that's what they call homosexuals, you know. And they aren't exactly kids, or they couldn't be in the bar-but anyway, they hang out there. So when I get the idea I might like to see what a blow job feels like, or a little ass-fucking, I prance myself merrily down. All kinds of preparations, you know, because I've heard about things. I've showered and combed my hair neat. I'm a pretty little boy! Got a tight tee-shirt on that shows my chest muscles, even the nipples-'cause I guess the gay boys go for men's-tits about the same way other fellows go for girls' tits. And tight pants-no shorts, of course, because your apparatus doesn't show off as well. It's what they call your "basket," all that business in your pants. So I sit against the fender of a car, legs out in front of me a little, my hands in my pockets to pull my pants tight and show what I've got inside there. Even soft you can tell; the pants are so tight you can see the head perfectly defined, the shaft, and the little cushion of balls that your prick is resting over.
A guy comes out, he checks you over. You check him over. You say to yourself, too old. Naw, you tell him if he talks to you, you're waiting for someone, you can't go have coffee with him.
Another one comes out, he's fairly young, fairly good looking, he's got a good build. He isn't the swishy kind-hell, if I wanted a woman I'd go get one. I don't want a womanish man. He checks me out, he likes what he sees, he takes a cigarette out, sticks it in his mouth and asks me if I have a light. I light his cigarette, checking him a little further, and telling myself that yeah, this is the one, I'd like to see what it'd feel like for him to suck my cock.
We get to his apartment. He mixes us a drink. He sits next to me, we're talking-and we both know what's going on but we pretend that we don't. Then his hand's on my leg, then it sneaks into my crotch-and it finds what it wants. A hard cock. Thirty seconds later my pants are down around my ankles, he's between my legs, and he's swinging on me. It's great stuff, he's got an educated mouth. He kisses my balls for a while then goes back to work on my ramrod. The vein in it swells, my ass starts wiggling, I start the fuck motion. I give him a mouthful of joy juice, so thick some of it drips out; he can't swallow it all. Man, that was some blow job, that was all right.
The next guy has another kind of a thing. He likes to get it in the ass. Well, so much the better; like I said, I like variety. We're naked in his bed, but he doesn't roll over onto his belly like I think he's going to. Instead, he lies there on his back. He gets me lying on top of him, his big old cock up between us and mine shoving between his cheeks. Then his ass muscles get busy, and that is a wild feeling! My old cock gets slurped up into his brownie, and I start romping. I drive it home, smashing his balls, pull it out, drive it home again. He's got his ass up nice, it not only receives, it helps; and the feeling I get starts getting better. The next thing you know I shove it in so far it has a chance of coming out his mouth, but it doesn't; it just rests in brownie-land and pukes itself dry! But at the same time he's shot up between us; it's one hell of a sticky mess. But at least I know what it feels like to fuck a guy in the ass; it wasn't bad at all.
The next guy tries to talk me into playing games, but I tell him I don't go that route. No sixty-nines for this kid, not unless it's a woman on the other end. He's disappointed, but he blows me-and while he's blowing me he jacks off. Well, that's all right, I don't mind a guy getting his rocks off. I've had a blast shooting my load down his gullet!
I fuck a couple of girls in between, just to prove that I'm still a Casanova, I can hook 'em and fuck 'em! Then I go back to see what other little surprises there are in queerland. The next one's sort of funny; I even surprise myself by going for it. He's another young guy, maybe that's why-not much older than me. So we're naked in his bed and he gets me up on top of him. I figure I'm going to get my film in his brownie again ... but instead of that, he gets our cocks pulled up between our bellies, two hunks of meat lying side by side, sleeping together like real buddies. But they don't sleep long. He starts moving his body and the feeling isn't bad; he spreads his legs, moves more, and the friction gets better. First thing you know I'm moving my hips, too, and our old pricks are having themselves one nice little time in the love nest. They both spew out their answers to it at the same time, the juices spurting up between our bellies. They lie there and go limp in that sticky wetness, then I roll off.
That bugs me a little, that's pretty close to liking to do things with boys, so I track down a piece of girl-type people and pour it to her.
But that's the answer! Sure I go in for the homo stuff once in a while, on the doing end. It's real kicks, you get your rocks off fine, but then you go back to girls and, if anything, it's all the better. When I find a girl who can keep me satisfied, I'll give up the guys. Meantime, yep, I'll go back for more. Once in a while. My old prick, it isn't choosy-it likes boys and girls. Well, it likes whatever brings it to life, whatever makes it spit out its joy juice.
Thus we see that many boys-sometimes by fluke of circumstances, sometimes by deliberate choice-experiment with homosexuality. The case cited above is probably an extreme one; the boy obviously enjoyed not only varieties in sex, but homosexual acts themselves-for whatever reasons he had. Most youngsters who do experiment with homosexuality, whether it be by accident or by their own design, do it only once-or, at most, two or three times. They want to know about life, all of life; they are experiencing new sensations from and through their bodies, so given the opportunity, they experiment in that way, too.
But I believe, although many of my colleagues might not agree with me, that it goes even deeper than that. We all have homosexual tendencies within us-indeed, as has been mentioned, we all go through homosexual stages of development. When the teen-ager, conscious of his "newly acquired" sexuality, begins to experiment, he is definitely asking himself who he is and where he is going. This must include the answer to a question that is not given concrete form, but is in the subconscious mind. That question: Am I really a homosexual?
For most young people the question presents no problem-if it is in the subconscious mind, it is easily erased. They plunge into their heterosexual lives and they find that the homosexual period lies in the past. For others the answer is not so pat, and consequently they must investigate it further. They dabble in homosexuality, unconsciously challenging themselves, It is a necessary step for total maturity-they must face the question, whether they are, aware of it or not. If they are able to participate, even as a passive partner, in homosexuality and then move on to heterosexuality, then the question is answered. Through such experimentation they may honestly say to themselves that they have, indeed, left that homosexuality behind them-in much the same way that lizards and snakes shed their skins and leave them behind.
Occasionally the individual, the teen-ager, experiments in homosexuality and does not move on. Rather, if he has participated in heterosexuality, he may decide to leave that behind, and to take on the life of the homosexual. This is the youngster whose life has prepared him for such an event-but he has had to go through all the gyrations, because he, like all other teen-agers, unfamiliar with his sexuality, learning about it, learning what it is (what he is) ... has to learn to live with it.
In either event, sexual experimentation of this nature, contrary to common belief, is not the fearful, frightening thing that it is sometimes made out to be. This has become a more widely accepted fact-and with the wider acceptance will come a more realistic approach-and the few problems that are still involved will be resolved. But even if they aren't, teen-agers will frequently experiment with homosexuality-it is a natural inclination. As one boy rather tersely described it, "If he's telling the truth, there isn't a kid alive who wouldn't want to find out what it feels like to get a first-class, homo blow job."
CHAPTER EIGHT
MISCELLANEOUS TEEN-AGED SEX EXPERIMENTS
Science has done a lot for us. For one thing, in terms of human beings, it has provided us with a yardstick-with what we call the "norm." Starting long ago, developing more fully through the intensive work of Dr. Freud, and continuing on through the work of others up to the present day, science has developed a "profile" of human life, especially insofar as psychological development is concerned (psychological development is closely entwined with physical development, and both contain as an important element sexual development).
Very few persons in fields which deal with any aspects of human life will take much exception to these "norms"-however, as one works with human beings, as one sees their deeper, inner selves, one becomes increasingly aware that each person is an individual. He is the sum and substance of what his life has been, and at each moment he is standing on that past while trying to cope with both present and future. In my experience with people-the majority of whom I come in contact with, I must admit, are people with problems-I have had to re evaluate and come up with my own philosophy (a philosophy that is shared with others, but we must each develop it for ourselves). In short, I am fully aware of the "norm," but I am more fully aware of the fact that people fluctuate in degrees away from, back to, and then away from again, that "norm."
I have found that that fluctuation is a vital, important thing. Human beings, unlike many statues, are not poured into moulds. Each is an entity within himself, influenced by what he is and by what his life has been. Therefore, each must use his own methods in trying to adapt or adjust to life.
That is especially true for the teen-ager. For that reason, nothing that a teen-ager does surprises me, nor would I in any way condemn him for what he does. Each teen-ager must do what he has to do, in terms of what his life has been, what he is, what he hopes to be, and what happens to him from day to day as he strives to adapt to this world in which he lives.
In the previous chapter we have seen some of the more common methods of experimentation used by teen-agers in terms of sexuality-or, more specifically, in their attempt to cope with their new-found physical maturity and in their effort to adapt to society. Because these types of experimentations are relatively common, I have been able to group them together under
CHAPTER headings. But there are many sexual activities, gone into in the way of experimentation, that are not so common-they are unique unto the individual, albeit they may happen to be practiced by numerous individuals across the country. But because they are not as widely practiced as some, I would refer to them as "miscellaneous teen-aged sexual experiments," and the following are merely examples. I must reiterate, however, that in each case it is merely an example of an individual, circumstances being what they are, making such experimentation in an effort to draw more closely to the adult maturity that is essentially the goal of all mankind.
Sharon was fifteen years old. She had gone into puberty early, developing into a beautiful girl with a shapely body. Her breasts, at that early age, were large, but not so large as to appear ill-proportioned. She had a pleasant, usually cheerful personality, but it was surface; she just as easily and quickly withdrew into a world of her own silence. She described her own awareness of and methods of adjustment to her development honestly:
It was almost a dirty trick, as if Fate were playing games. Here I was, developing a woman's body real early, and getting what I thought were all the feelings of a woman-but at the same time I lived with a family that was so old-fashioned, so religious, that it wasn't even funny. My mother watched my development with a hard face, and I know it must have worried her almost sick. I know that it embarrassed her, but she finally sat down with me one day when I was about thirteen and tried to talk to me. All that came out, though, was that God put a lot of temptations in people, through their bodies, and if people didn't resist these temptations they might have fun here on earth but they went to hell. Of course, there was a good chance, according to her, that the fun on earth could change to a hell on earth, too-venereal diseases, pregnancy, all sorts of things could happen. She told me all that, but it wasn't all too clear.
Anyway, there I was with my body growing. The mound between my legs began enlarging, something like a swelling, and hair began to grow there. My breasts started developing, and once started, there was no stopping them. At fourteen I had the body of an eighteen year old. If I hadn't been aware of it myself, the way boys looked at me and acted, the way girls talked, would have told me.
But I had these other feelings, too. Sex feelings, I know they were. I was overly conscious of my own body; I'd lie awake after I went to bed and be just terribly aware of it. I'd rub my hands over myself, and it felt so good that I couldn't imagine what mother meant about all that hell and temptation and all. Then, because I was so well developed, I was usually with an older age group-and I heard the things they talked about.
Well, when you're so aware of your own body, and when you have those feelings ... I remember that first it was my own hands that excited me, the feel of them, and then I started thinking that they were someone else's hands. Sort of dreaming it. I knew that the opening between my legs wasn't only for going to the bathroom-and when I rubbed it the feeling was good, when I got bolder the feeling was even better. Then I heard about boys ... Well, I couldn't ... I absolutely couldn't, of course ... let a boy get near me, but I couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like. So I experimented. I used my finger first, and it was partially satisfying, but it still didn't tell me all. Then I saw a book, pictures in it, with diagrams of human bodies-if I had wondered, I had a better idea then about what a boy looked like. I found things that looked similar-carrots, cucumbers-and I used them instead of my finger. Oh, the nights I drove myself to a climax with something like that! Then, after I reached that exhilarating feeling, it was like getting to the top of a mountain and then falling over the other side. I'd realize what I had done and be depressed, worried, and so frightened that either mother or God (I didn't know which to fear the most) would find out and punish me.
This must sound terrible. I ... I couldn't have anything to do with boys, no matter how I tried, but ... Well, one day I saw a dog, a large dog. I bent down to pet him, and he rared up, his paws on my shoulders. I saw ... I saw that hair-covered thing, and I ... I felt something go through me. So very sneakily, I lured the dog home, out to the garage. I pulled my skirt up and my panties down and pressed myself out to him. He was only vaguely interested at first, but then he began to get more interested. He began to lick me between the legs, and it sent shivers of pleasure through me. My heart was beating terribly, but ... I got his front paws, placed them on my shoulders, and I shoved my opening up to that hairy thing. I didn't realize ... a reddish, slipper type thing telescoped out of that hairy holder. It probed around between my legs, and finally he got it in the right place. He wasn't gentle, he drove it into me, and I cried out. Imagine, losing your maidenhead to a dog! But heavens, how that felt, that huge, wet thing thrusting in and out of me.
Sharon, unable to experiment normally, was using the only kind of experimentation that she dared-not a boy who could "do those things to her," but a dog-someone, something that would never tell her parents. But she was a normal human being with normal desires, and fortunately for her, she rebelled against her strict and misinforming mother. Forsaking carrots and cucumbers and dogs, she went out with a boy; they entered into normal intercourse and she found not only that it was pleasurable, but that none of those "awful" things happened to her. There were guilt feelings after her first couple of affairs, but she gradually learned to accept them as necessary, and the equal necessity of keeping her mother "in the dark." At any rate, tottering on the edge of trouble, experimenting through what could have led to serious problems, Sharon was able to give up what must be called "deviant experimentation" in favor of normal experimentation, and through it begin to develop into a normal person.
Frank H. was a normal and healthy looking sixteen year old, but he, too, had been faced with parents who did not thoroughly understand sex or the normal development of children. Entering into puberty, extremely aware of his changing body, Frank had begun his experimentation-first, in the early days of puberty, by finding a neighbor girl of the same age who was willing to "trade looks." But this is the way he told the story.
I think we had done things like that before when we were younger, I'm not sure, but I was changing. I mean, my pecker was getting a little bigger and it seemed to get hard more often, my nuts were getting bigger too. Hair started to grow. I wondered if the same kind of thing happened to girls, so this girl who was my age and I talked about it-and she was curious, too. We got together to compare notes. She let me see her, and she was changing, too. I felt her tits getting bigger, then I was between her legs, her dress up around her waist, and investigating there. She watched and told me. Yes, it was swelling, it wasn't just a little mound with a slit in it. And it was more sensitive to touch ... the way I was touching her then ... and the door opened!
All kinds of hell broke loose. It was her mother, and she went into a rage. She called my mother, and she went into a rage. They scared hell out of us with threats and warnings.
Well, when I was about fourteen or so, a lot more developed, I went out with a girl. She had been busier than me, she knew a lot more; she started the kissing, but I went along with it. I guess nature took over from there, because we started feeling each other's body. I felt her tits, fascinated by their size, and I thoroughly enjoyed playing with them, and I liked the feelings I was getting from her stroking my pecker. Then she took one of my hands and put it on her cunt, and I gave it a good feeling up. You know, rubbed it real good, felt around with my fingers, squeezing and all, and then finally getting a finger inside and feeling around. Well, like I said, she'd been around, she didn't want any finger up there. But when I went to stick my cock in ... well, I couldn't. All kinds of horrible thoughts smashed against my mind, the things my folks had told me. But I still wanted ... and so did the girl....
It was really embarrassing. I'd get my pecker up to her, get it just about ready to slip in, and the damn thing would go soft. It just about flipped her, because with our kissing and all, with me feeling her up like that, she was really excited. Finally ... I don't remember whose idea it was ... but finally I just finger-fucked her to a finish while we kissed. She had her orgasm, and though I'd gotten hard again, I couldn't.
It really bothered me, and I knew I had to do something about it-but even though I really wanted to, I was afraid to go out with other girls. So ... first I tried this. I'd he in bed and remember that whole scene, my pecker hard through the whole memory, and when it came to shoving it into her, it stayed hard and I jacked off. Well, I figured I'd made it over the hump, so I got up the courage to ask her to try it again.
We went the same route again. Stripped down naked and really loved it up, kissing and rolling our bodies together, my pecker hard and all around down there. I kissed her tits, loved them up with my tongue, sucked on those cute little nipples ... all the time staying hard as hell. Then I felt her hand down there, pushed between us; she got hold of my pecker and it felt good, I held my breath, she rubbed the head up and down her pussy, then ... then got the head pushed in between her pussy-lips again ... and the damn thing went soft!
I felt lousy, she was sort of disgusted. She pushed herself up and disappeared for a few minutes. When she came back she had ... She said it was her mother's, her mother didn't know that she knew about it, but there it was. One of those fake cocks. A great big one, bigger even than my pecker. It looked real, with a big head, the skin pulled back off it, and even a vein running down the full length. She laid on the bed, spread her legs, and rubbed the thing all around like it was a prick, then she started the big head through. It pushed the lips apart, spreading her, and she sort of groaned with pleasure as she shoved it farther in, deeper and deeper. Her hips moved from side to side. Then she started fucking herself with it, but she yelled for me. She was in a real lather. I started playing with her tits again, kissing and all, then she pulled my head up and our mouths were together, her tongue was working around inside mine and she was moving her hips like crazy. She had her free arm around my shoulders; now her kissing got more desperate, her body was thrashing around and she dug her fingernails into my shoulder. She was having herself one hell of an orgasm from that fake cock. I guess you know where that left me-I went home for another jacking off scene.
You know, that really worried me. It worried me so much that I couldn't concentrate on other things. My school work started going down hill, I practically crawled off into a hole. I mean, here were all my friends talking about the things they did, real men because they laid this or that girl, and there I was with a pecker that passed out from fright every time it got near a cunt. Then I got an idea. It was in the showers one day, after gym. This one kid who has a pretty big prick is always horsing around-the other kids talk about his cock a lot, and I guess he's sort of proud of it, so he fools around with stuff where it's involved. like pretending to jack off even though it's soft, or ... Well, this one thing that set me off, he got up behind another kid, grabbed him by the hips, and pressed his pecker up against him. Said he was going to fuck him in the ass. All of a sudden I found myself thinking, maybe if I did that, maybe if I could make it with a boy that way, then maybe I could transfer it over to a girl.
Well, I've got this friend. We'd slept at each other's house a couple of times, and a couple of times we had even diddled-played with each other. Trying not to be obvious, I invited him to spend the night. At first I had planned on just outright telling him my troubles and asking him if I could try, but when the time came I couldn't. So I waited until he was asleep, sound asleep. He was on his back, so I reached out and rubbed his chest, moved my hand down, felt around his pecker. It got hard and he stretched out, then he rolled over, but he didn't wake up. I thought that was a good sign. I let him get restful again, then I felt his ass-end. Rubbed my hands all over his buttocks and legs; he didn't wake up, so I got braver. Rubbed my finger up and down the crevice between his cheeks, stuck my finger in him. He stirred a little but didn't wake up. At least he didn't seem to. Finally I got my hard pecker up there, pushed the head slowly between his cheeks; when it got firmly embedded there, where it wouldn't slip out, I reached around and took hold of his pecker. Then I slowly started easing my pecker in. He groaned a little, but hallelujah, I got it in without it going soft!
I worked real slow, sliding it in and out, and it felt good. The feeling started getting better, better even than it does when you're jacking off, and then I creamed him. Oh, Jesus, did I cream him! And did I ever feel good, I had finally succeeded!
I could hardly wait to get with the girl again-it took some arguing, because she was a little upset with the way I'd kept going soft, but I promised her that it wouldn't. So we got together, naked, making passionate love, and finally I was ready to pour the meat to her. It was me who reached down this time, grabbing hold of my rod and rubbing it all around that pussy, getting it in place. I pushed the head through those soft, pliant lips, ready to drive it home ... and the bastard went soft again! Man, I could have cried. I damned near did.
In this case, Frank had experimented as best he could in trying to resolve his own sexual problems-in trying to step over the threshold from youth to adulthood. Unfortunately, the damage that his parents had done had been such that this natural and necessary sexual experimentation was not sufficient. It took professional help; it took learning that the parents had literally put the fear of God in him to the extent that his subconscious mind turned his penis soft each time it tried to enter a girl. Shown, instead, that nothing terrible would happen through intercourse, and that it was a perfectly natural act, Frank was finally able to get over his fears and practice normal sexual intercourse. With that barrier removed, as he cheerfully admitted later, he went on from normal intercourse to other experimentations (i.e., mouth-vagina and mouth-penis situations, "doggie fashion" and so on)-in other words, he had become a normal person sexually, and was moving on toward adulthood and total maturity. His grades went up again, his personality became cheerful. He was saved.
I have mentioned the hippie and other movements. In these movements, under the guise of rebelling against "The Establishment"-a society which is seen as old-fashioned and repressive-young people experiment with sex more openly. Called "Free Love" and other such tags, it still is merely sexual experimentation. It frequently involves group activities, and as frequently will develop into rituals such as those mentioned earlier. Some of the group are older, in what would ordinarily be considered adulthood-but they are, in fact, emotional youngsters who are experimenting with all the rest. The courage element enters into it, too, the group pressure; many of these persons would not have the courage or the opportunity to thus experiment otherwise, but the group pressure leads them into it.
Jerry T. was the seventeen year old son of a successful businessman and a mother who was "proper" and active in civic and social affairs. Jerry had had a relatively quiet and uneventful childhood, certainly filled with material possessions that many of his age might envy, but just before his seventeenth birthday he decided that something was missing in his life. More specifically, he was subconsciously feeling the frustrations of being "penned in" by the attitudes of his parents, by their demands on his behavior. Reading about a hippie settlement, this tall, fairly good looking youngster left his possessions behind him, ran away from home, and joined the movement. He reported later:
I got there in early evening. I was in the foothills and the air had chilled. They were sitting around a fire, about a dozen or so of them, and I could smell the stew they had just made and the coffee percolating over the open fire. They were dressed in many different garbs, most of them colorful, many of them revealing various parts of the anatomy of both sexes-either openly or damned near openly. A boy with a blond beard, long blond hair, was the first to look up; our eyes met, and his blue eyes seemed like two placid lakes. "Welcome," he said, and that was all that was necessary. They took me into their circle without questions, offered me some of the stew. After the meal the fire was kept going and there was much talk, most of it philosophical, then couples started drifting away, the fire started dying down. Finally the blond boy told me that I could share his bed with him; if I decided to stay we'd make other arrangements in the morning.
He had been wearing levis and a tee-shirt. When he took them off he was completely naked, and completely at ease. It was outside, the light wasn't bright, but his nakedness was still obvious. Anyway I undressed-and for some reason, I guess old training-I left my shorts on. Once under the single cover, he rolled over toward me, rubbed my chest and stomach, then moved his hand down. I got a hard-on even while I was frozen inside, because this wasn't the kind of thing you do! But he lulled me with his talk, he told me of their beliefs. Man is beautiful, man should be free, there are no rules but the rules of nature. He got my shorts off and he was fondling my cock, his own hard against my thigh. He told me that they all believed in love-in love of everybody. We happened to be together this night, we would love. Perhaps tomorrow night I would be with one of the girls ... or even during the day, if we so desired. But for tonight ... he buried his head under the covers and I felt his mouth on my cock, then I felt his own hard cock prodding me in the face. I felt the pleasure of what he was doing, and I wanted to be part of them, to live according to their philosophies. I took his cock into my mouth, duplicated what he was doing to me. We sucked each other to a climax. When it was over he kissed me on the mouth, pleased, he said, that we had expressed love.
The next afternoon several of us were sitting on some rocks in the middle of a discussion. Well, I wasn't discussing, I was listening-shocked but interested, and trying to keep calm and accept. They were saying things that would have made my mother faint! One boy said, "Love is love. It's man's attunement to nature and to his fellow man. Man, at the same time, is beautiful and capable of love-and love, like everything else, grows stronger if it is put to use."
"And love," a sharp-looking young girl, her tits hanging loosely in a bit of a rag tied around her (obviously with no brassiere), said, "is best expressed through physical contact. When I feel a boy's hard prick up in me I know he loves me. Why ... why, sometimes I get such a feeling of love for another person that I just have to show it! Like now...." she cried out, and she pushed herself off the rock. She came over to me, knelt down between my legs. "I feel a deep love for this boy, I want to show him my love." With that, right in front of the rest of them-and moving so quickly that I couldn't react, she opened my fly and pulled my cock out. She did it easily, because I had already discarded shorts. She took it in her mouth-I almost died, and looked around at their faces; there was nothing there but peacefulness. This, to them, was right. It was just as right that my prick stiffened as she sucked on it, as she slid her lips up and down the full shaft.
It was just as right when she got to her feet, took my hand, and led me off into the woods. And it was just as right for me when, a few minutes later, we were both naked and as she sucked on my cock I buried my face in her hairy crotch and began exploring with my tongue-something I would never have done before! But she was right-it was right! There was nothing wrong with the way my tongue was working over those lips, with the way it felt its way in between them, finding the warm juiciness of her inner being. There was nothing wrong with her sucking on my balls a little, then returning to my prick, and the two of us meeting in a climax that made our bodies do wild dances in that lying-down position.
It was a simple, beautiful life, under the protection of a mass of rocks, improvised sleeping bags on the ground near them, the pit where we built fires for cooking and for evening warmth. We foraged during the day-sometimes going naked into the woods to look for fruit and berries, for animals, and sometimes dressing to go back towards civilization in search of other things. A stray chicken, a vegetable patch ....
After the first day or two I could nm around naked without getting a hard-on, and not only could I accept attention from others, I could offer it. If a girl spread her legs, rubbed her pussy and said that she felt the need for love, I could give it to her. If a boy developed a hard-on and wanted love, I could give it to him. Sometimes three or four of us, maybe more, felt the need for mass love; we'd lay down and begin things and nature would take its course. They weren't boys and girls, cocks and cunts, do's and don'ts. They were human beings, and often a girl would be sucking on a boy while another boy was screwing her, and the boy she was sucking on would be sucking on another boy. Occasionally a hard, hot prick wanted the pleasure of your rectum, or yours might want the same of another. You could kiss a girl's tits without fear, the comfort of a child sucking on its mother's breast. Many times I went to sleep at night suckling a nice, warm tit while someone else rested their head between my legs, my cock spewing out and then resting limply in the warm comfort of their mouth.
It was honestly one of the most beautiful periods of my life. But we were of nature, we understood it, and we were touched by it. Fall came, our nakedness was more a torture than a pleasure, and then winter. We separated, drifting, many back to the city they had come from or to some place where they knew others like us lived within civilization itself. I went along to such a place, to an old house that such a group had taken over, but it wasn't the same as when we had been out in the woods. I finally ended up going home again, thinking at the time that it would be just for the winter, that with the coming of spring I'd go back.
But after his return, after a session in which parents and son talked as best they could, difficult as it was, Jerry found himself feeling less disgusted by his parents and their kind of life. He slowly went back to his old habits, and by the time spring arrived he thought only vaguely of the "natural retreat where humans are real and love is God." He had actually, in that brief time, made up for years of experimentation that he had denied himself and having found satisfaction, having experienced the various kinds of physical enjoyments, having learned all there was to know about the human body and its capabilities, he was willing to admit to himself that "love" had really only been an excuse for sexual experimentation, for sexual license. Having satisfied his curiosity, he had taken great strides toward maturity; he was ready to settle down now to the important business of becoming a social and adult human being. He could content himself thereafter with occasional sexual affairs with girls of his own neighborhood and society. "But," he said, "I wouldn't trade that experience for anything in the world. It was great while it lasted, and it had come at just the right time. I got a lot out of my system."
These are but examples of the various types of experimentation that take place. Volumes could be written, because each individual searches out his own answers in his own way. Suffice it to say that these young people accepted circumstances as they arose, using the elements of those circumstances as means of satisfying the natural need to experiment with their sexuality.
CHAPTER NINE
CONCLUSIONS
The first time the small babe, just born, reaches for his own genitals or for his mother's breast, sexual experimentation is begun ... because in those areas he finds sexual excitement even while he does not understand what it is. But most importantly, this child has just been "tossed into the world." He is a stranger there-he knows nothing about himself or that world. As he grows older he learns more about both, but with each learning there is the need for more, especially because both are continually changing. With human feelings, with human desires, the need to experiment in all areas is literally built in. It is especially important in the area of sexuality.
Far too many adults revolt at the idea of youngsters having any sexuality, and they revolt even more violently if they discover the youngsters in the process of experimenting. That is sad, indeed, evidence of a lack of understanding and holding in it the seed of severe problems. The child has no choice; he has to experiment. If that driving need is thwarted, his natural development may be dis turbed-and instead of solving problems, the parents have created new ones. I have worked with hundreds of cases where the problems of my clients, ranging from mild neuroses to severe sexual-psychopathic personalities, can be traced back to the parental blockage of normal, natural sexual experimentation.
In the early days of life such experimentation is trivial and relatively undisturbing-frequently even unseen. Children are momentarily curious; once their curiosity is satisfied they forget the subject and move on. A little boy might become conscious of his own penis during urination, wonder if others have the same kind of thing on them, survey the area on a neighbor girl-seeing "nothing" there, he may be mildly interested in what is there, but will soon forget about it and go on to something else. If no big issue is made of it (if it has been observed), nothing will come of it. If an issue is made, the child's natural development may be tampered with.
But assuming that the individual goes through his early childhood with no such problems, he will enter the "homosexual" period-lasting roughly from age six to age ten-and now the opportunity for experimentation grows stronger. During this age he is more aware of the world around him, even to the extent of discovering that men and women get together and copulate. But more than that, during this period friendships are developed that quite frequently lead not only to youngsters spending long hours together, but to friends sleeping with friends-and in those beds, in the quiet of night and often amid genuine surprise and or giggles, one will experiment with the other, the two will experiment together. Because the sex glands have not developed, this is only minor experimentation, and the pleasures that will come later are lacking-but still they experiment!
At the onset of puberty, generally around twelve years of age, this changes. The sexual glands develop and begin to function. The mild pleasures of playing with oneself, of stimulated skin creating pleasurable sensations, is heightened by the actual sexually pleasurable sensations that come into being. The girl finds her breasts not only growing but sensitive, her vagina a source of pleasure that comes from stimulation by an external object. The boy finds his pleasure from playing with his own organ heightened by the ability to reach an orgasm. At the same time, they are increasingly aware of the changes in both their own bodies and the bodies of persons around them-and they also become even more aware of adult bodies and what adults do. With this awakening, experimentation is not only natural, it is necessary. The individual has to adjust to the changes, decide who he is as a person-what he is-and how he relates to others. He does this through experimentation.
Man is a creature who seeks pleasure, a perfectly sensible thing to do. Mix curiosity, the need to find out who and what he is, and the pleasures that can come from the human body, and there is little wonder that the individual will take any opportunity to experiment:-to find out what pleasures are available.
Generally speaking, experimentation in sexuality follows a pattern of sorts. Because they have not completely gotten out of the homosexual period, and because they can be and frequently are thrown into closer proximity, the earliest sexual experimentations (that is, the earliest following puberty) usually involve that with others of their own sex. Masturbation is done in private, but when two get together they compare bodies (this wonderful if sometimes frightening change that is taking place!) and find that through mutual activity they may find even greater pleasure. The next step is to look toward the opposite sex-and generally that goes through stages from "petting" to normal, boy-on-top-of-girl intercourse. But man is curious, and the youth is fascinated with this body of his and all of its surprises. He hears about other methods, or wonders about them himself, so given the chance he experiments with them. Circumstances enter into it-he is what his total background made him into. They learn from each other. Thus it is only natural that youngsters will experiment with as many varieties of sexual activity as possible-and it appears that such experimentation is extremely healthful and can lead to greater happiness once adulthood and maturity is reached.
The only logical conclusion, then, is that sexual experimentation-starting at birth but reaching its peak during the adolescent years-is not only natural but necessary. We have only to look at the people who do not reach such maturity because of lack of opportunity to experiment-or the unhealthy reactions to their experimentation when it was observed-to see the truth of that. At the same time, because each individual is different and so has different needs, we might conclude that nature should take its course-perhaps sexual experimentation should not be encouraged, but it should not be discouraged.
