During my career as a psychotherapist, I have treated patients suffering from many different emotional problems of varying degrees of seriousness. Among the most acute are the difficulties arising from sexual relationships between women and young boys. I have found that in nearly each case, both participants suffer immensely.
The woman involved cannot function as a true woman in society, for she is dependent upon boys for satisfaction and spurns men. The boy has difficulty adjusting to the demands of females his own age, and his maturation is impeded. The inner torment is enormous, and it is only the fortunate few who make their way into therapy in an attempt to rebuild their lives.
"I never thought that I would ever be able to live within the society again, once I developed a dependence on boys for sexual satisfaction," one female patient told me. "I felt as though I were slipping away from the real world. I didn't understand what was happening, and I couldn't control my impulses. I would sit home sometimes and tell myself that I couldn't keep on like I was going, that it had to end in disaster. But sooner or later I'd find myself out on the street, looking for another boy.
The boys I encountered in such situations were equally desperate.
"One day I realized that my life had changed, drastically," a young patient told me. "Before I met her, I was lonely, frustrated, and she helped deaden those feelings. For the first time in my life, I felt alive, vibrant. But after a while, I realized that I was still lonely, still searching. But now, my problems were compounded. I seemed to be locked into a vicious dependency on women for satisfaction, both sexual and spiritual. Girls my own age couldn't give this to me, and I was afraid that when I got older, I'd really be hung up. It was only a stroke of luck that I entered therapy. If I hadn't, I'd have developed into one hell of a confused man."
I do not have any ready answers or solutions to the problem presented by women taking boys as lovers. This book is comprised of case histories, and most of the text is devoted to the thoughts and feelings of the patients. I have included my comments in the form of parenthetical notations, inserted at what I considered key points in the text. The book is meant to serve as a reference work for others interested in this special problem, and I have included as many distinctive cases as possible.
I have omitted the last names of the patients, for their own protection. In addition, I have edited the tapes of their sessions so that their stories may be more readable, but I have not changed the substance of their narrations.
* * *
PATIENT: Martha P., twenty-nine, teacher.
REMARKS: Extremely good-looking, Martha was reluctant to speak freely of her experiences, and it was not until I persuaded her that verbal expression could soothe many of her psychic wounds that she dropped her inhibitions. Once she began her story, she seemed to become enmeshed in it, to relive it vicariously. The thrill of her encounters with young boys was experienced again, and I could see the excitement they generated. Her body would twist on the couch, her eyes bright, her voice strained. The following is a transcript of one of her more substantial sessions.
MARTHA: I guess I always dug boys. I mean, I had so many bad scenes with men that it was almost natural for me to turn to young boys. Funny thing, though, is that when I was a girl. I always wanted men. When I was about seventeen, I got the hots for Uncle Harry, my father's younger brother. Harry was about forty-five and very handsome. He was still a bachelor, and he was doing pretty good, from all I could tell. He had a new car, a house, and plenty of girlfriends. He used to bring some of them around, when he visited. They were all beautiful, and I was jealous of them. I wanted Uncle Harry for myself. He always treated me like a princess, giving me a lot of presents and always talking to me like I was a woman, not some jerk of a girl. I loved him, I really did. More than I loved my parents. They always acted like I was a pain in their ass, not their daughter.
(NOTE: And so, Martha reveals a great deal of hostility toward her parents, who obviously withheld love from their daughter. The girl turns toward another member of her family for affection, her Uncle Harry. But she sees him not only as a substitute father, but as a lover. This places the man in a sensitive position, and he must handle it delicately if the girl is not to be hurt badly.)
One Saturday, Uncle Harry dropped by the house with one of his girlfriends. He was kind of drunk, and he laughed a lot. When I told him my parents were gone for the weekend, he didn't seem disappointed at all. He poured himself a drink and turned on the record player. He and his woman danced awhile, and then he took me in his arms. I pressed close to him, and I could feel his dick hard inside his pants. I got so hot, I thought I was going to boil over. The in woman went upstairs to the bathroom, and suddenly Uncle Harry was kissing me and running his hands over my body.
I was a precocious kid, with the figure of a woman, and I suppose he got tired of looking and wanted a little feel. Which was all right with me. I kissed him back, shoving my tongue into his mouth and squirming in his arms like some wild animal. I was still a virgin, but I knew all about sex. To put it bluntly, I hadn't fucked, but I knew how to. And I wanted him. I wanted to feel him in me, to let him make love to me. Sex was tied up with all my romantic notions about love, and I was in love with my uncle.
"You say your mom and dad are down the shore for the whole weekend?" he asked me.
"That's right," I said, real coy-like. "A hundred miles away . . . "
He gasped and kissed me hard, sliding his hands over my ass and pushing me onto the couch. He tugged at my blouse, and soon it was open, his face burrowing between my tits. Lord, J thought I was gonna come on the spot! I mean, the most I had done with boys was light petting in parked cars, and here was my uncle yanking my bra off in my own living room!
"So beautiful," he moaned. "Such a beautiful piece . . . "
He sucked one of my tits into his mouth, ami I saw stars.
"Yessssss," I heard myself say. "Suck 'em. Ooooo, Uncle Harry! That feels so goooood . . . "
"I'm gonna make you feel good all over, love," he gasped. "All over."
He worked my shorts down, pulling my panties off in the same motion. I lay there nude, my body burning, watching him undress. He shucked off his pants and shoes, and then I saw his prick. It seemed so big! Too big! I couldn't believe it would fit inside me, but he didn't give me time to back out.
"C'mon, Marty honey," he said. "Give us a nice kiss."
He held his dick in his hand, the head of it bright red, the shaft swollen and dark. I didn't move, and he slipped a hand behind my head and pulled me toward him.
"No, Uncle Harry," I pleaded. "No . . . "
But he was going to have his way, the bastard.
"Oh, come on now," he said, his voice sterner. "Do your Uncle Harry a big favor. He's done a lot for you."
His fingers gripped my neck, and he guided my mouth over his cock. I closed my eyes, and the taste of him almost made me puke. It was bitter and salty, but as I kissed him, the taste began to fade and I began to like the sensation of sucking a man's dick. And then he came, without warning. I was so shocked, I twisted away from him, sperm dripping from my lips. He was furious.
"You bitch!" he shouted. "You nearly bit me, dammit! What the hell's wrong with you? C'mere, we aren't finished yet!"
I tried to scramble away, but he caught me.
"Why, Harry, aren't you a bit old for such games?" I heard the woman laugh.
She was standing at the head of the stairs, and when she stepped down, her dress hugged her body. I thought she would be on my side, would help me, but I was wrong. While Uncle Harry pinned me to the floor, she unzipped her dress and stepped out of it. God, she was beautiful! I don't know why my uncle bothered with me when he had a pussy like that begging him for it. She unsnapped her bra, and I watched her tits fall free, great, smooth breasts that dangled like melons. Uncle Harry was kissing my tits, and I pulled his head against me as I stared at the woman. She excited me more than I've ever cared to admit, I suppose. I thought something was going to happen between me and her, and I got scared. I mean, that sort of stuff is for perverts. So I let Uncle Harry get me hot.
"Yehhhhh," he groaned. "That's nice. That's a lot better."
I couldn't stand watching the woman stare at us. She didn't come over to us; she just stood there staring. And then her hand went to her pussy, and I could see her playing with herself, fingering her clit as she watched her boyfriend trying to seduce his niece. Uncle Harry pried my legs apart, but again I got frightened. The whole thing seemed so weird, not at all like I expected it to be.
(NOTE: Confused by her uncle's callous aggressiveness and by her attraction to his girlfriend, Martha begins to retreat from the experience, to withdraw from the scene as if it were not really happening. She is extremely naive sexually, and her adolescent impulses confuse the situation even more. She attempts to repulse her uncle, but most likely be will dominate her.)
"Now, don't fight it, baby," Uncle Harry said. "Just lay back and relax. You'll love it . . . "
But I tried to push him away, not wanting to go through with what we started. I was terrified, and I screamed as loud as I could. The woman just smiled, as if I had done something amusing. My uncle didn't care if I screamed. He knew no one could hear me.
"Bitch! Fucking bitch!" He cursed, and then I felt his dick between my thighs.
"No, stop it!" I shrieked. "Oh, God, please stop!"
He ignored me, bucking his hips to drive his cock into my pussy. Naturally, it hurt like hell, but he was a strong man and he held me down while he worked it in all the way.
"Olihhhh, that's so fine," I heard him moan. "Yehhhh, baby. Keep it up. Keep it up!"
I realized then that I was actually responding to him. I liked the feel of his prick sliding through my pussy, once the pain had subsided. His dick was huge, and he powered it into me with quick, sharp thrusts. I moved my hips, working my cunt over his prick until I thought I would go out of my mind.
When he came, I came with him, and we rolled around on that carpet like a couple of dogs. When he got off me, I looked down and saw the blood. I'll never forget it. I wanted to die. I was so ashamed, so humiliated by the way he had taken me, by the way I had responded. I had wanted it to be beautiful and gentle, but it was horrible. I struggled to my feet and started for the bathroom.
I heard someone moaning, and I turned to look toward the other couch. The woman was on her knees between my uncle's legs, sucking his dick, blood and all. My stomach jumped and I threw up. I rushed up the stairs, stumbling like a drunk and lay on the floor for a long time, until I was strong enough to wash. Then I went downstairs. They were gone, and I got out the cleanser and worked the blood out of the carpet. By the time I was finished I was exhausted. I went upstairs and went to sleep, cursing my uncle, never wanting to see a man's dick again.
(NOTE: As a result of the incident with her uncle, Martha develops a basic antipathy toward men. She feels that she has been misused, as she had been by her parents in a different manner. Although she is still attracted to men and knows that she can respond to them, she is afraid that any contact with them will result in her being hurt. As she goes to sleep, she curses her uncle, "never wanting to see a man's dick again." A man's sexual organ, therefore, represents pain as well as ecstasy, and she fears it as much as, or more, than she desires it.)
My parents never learned what happened, and Uncle Harry stopped visiting us. I thought I'd get pregnant, but I didn't. I kept to myself after that, seldom dating, I went out with real "nice" boys, kids who wouldn't try to hustle a fuck out of me, or even want to pet. I'd give them a kiss at the door, and then I'd be safe inside.
In high school, plenty of guys would settle for that, but at college, few did. I became a bookworm with a whore's body, the girl no one could figure out.
And then I fell in love again. With Professor Cummings. I suppose I should have known better than to mess with a man, but I didn't. I was crazy about him. He was very handsome and distinguished-looking, about thirty-five years old. I guess he saw my interest, because I found a note on one of my themes: "See me in my office at four."
When class ended I rushed home and put on my sexiest outfit. Soon it was time, and I headed for his office. My heart was beating like a trip hammer. Well, I guess I don't have to go into too many details. It was Uncle Harry all over again. We sat talking for a while, and then he made a play. I didn't discourage him, but I tried to get across to him that he should slow down. He didn't. I had to fight him off, and I ran, literally, out of that office.
He had exposed himself during the struggle, and the image of his thick prick kept flashing across my mind as I rushed home. I wanted to cut it off, to stuff it down his goddamn throat.
"I hate them!" I muttered all the way to the dormitory. "I hate men!"
I decided to become a teacher, so I wouldn't have to deal with men. I loved kids, because they weren't twisted and perverted like many adults. They were young and pure, and beauty still had a place in their lives.
I took a job leaching in a high school when I graduated, and it was in one of my English classes that I met Philip. He was sixteen, so handsome that he made my heart jump. I'd lay in bed at night, masturbating as I imagined his bodv, nude beside me. I pictured him making love to me, tenderly, and I'd experience the most intense orgasm of my life. And then I decided to go after him. I didn't know what was happening. I only knew that I wanted him, that he could give me what I was looking for.
(NOTE: Concluding that men are insensitive creatures unable to satisfy her, Martha turns to a young boy, whose youth seems to insinuate that he will be gentle and caring. Youth is salvation, in her eyes, and she develops an overwhelming lust for the boy. She realizes the danger involved, but she chooses to ignore it, desperate for the love she has never found.)
"Philip, would you stay after class a moment, please," I told him one day.
The other kids snickered, thinking he was going to he punished for some unknown crime. When the bell rang, he stayed behind, and I closed the door, locking it as he stood watching me, puzzled. I was wearing a short dress that showed plenty of leg and a blouse that dipped low across my breasts. I always had big tits, and I knew that young boys love them big, so I made sure Philip got an eyeful.
"You're a very good student, when you want to be," I said to him. "But lately, you've been a bad boy. You're not doing nearly as well as you should be, because you've been cutting up in class and neglecting your work. I could inform your parents, but I don't think that would help. You need to be punished . . . "
I'm not sure whether he heard everything I was saying or not. As I talked, I kept crossing and recrossing my legs, letting my skirt slide higher and higher up my legs. Soon, he could see the tops of my nylons, and his eyes bugged as my dress worked even higher.
I can't tell you how excited I was. My heart was going like crazy, and my pussy was hot as a furnace. I could feel the juice ooze out of it, and my voice sounded unfamiliar, as if it belonged to someone else. I glanced at the front of his pants, and I saw a bulge. It looked huge! It made me feel very powerful, my being able to excite a boy like that.
"Philip! what are you staring at? I snapped.
His eyes stopped roaming my body for a moment, and he looked at me with sheer terror. I suppose he figured I would scold him for staring at me like that. He couldn't even answer me.
"You were looking at my legs, weren't you?" I asked.
He nodded, his face turning bright pink. "And at my tits, too . . . "
I thought for a second that he would turn and run out of the room. He was such a doll, so embarrassed. I stood up, smiling at him to reassure him.
"Well then, I think I know what your punishment should be," I said, lifting my skirt above my waist. "I want you to kiss my legs . . . "
His eyes widened, and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. He didn't move, and I realized I'd have to prod him further if I was going to get what I wanted.
"Philip!" I ordered, "come here and do as you were told!"
He moved hesitantly toward me, and my heart jumped up into my throat. He was going to do it! He knelt in front of me, and then I felt his lips caressing the skin above the tops of my nylons. His breath was hot, and his tongue slid along my leg, licking and kissing. I looked down at him and wanted to take his head and shove it up my cunt. He started to pull away, but I slipped my hands behind his head and pulled him close. I guess that did it, because he threw his arms around me, caressing the back of my thighs with his big hands. I came a couple of times while he was kissing my legs. It scared me, being so hot. I wondered whether there was something wrong with me, but it felt so good I didn't care.
"You can take them off if you want to," I said. "Co ahead. Do it."
He unsnapped my garters and peeled the nylons down my legs. I groped for my chair, and he eased them off my feet. I felt like a queen, sitting there while this young stud did my bidding. His eyes were big and glassy, as if he were drunk or something. Perspiration absolutely poured from him and his hands wouldn't stop trembling. I was sure that he had never seen so much of a woman before in his life.
"Do you like my legs?" I asked him.
"Ohhhh, yesss," he answered, shoving his face between my thighs.
His tongue licked my flesh, and I came again. I was really hot for him now, but I tried to keep cool, to prolong it all.
"Would you like to see more?"
"Yes, please . . . You're beautiful. I want to . . . "
I got to my feet and let my skirt slide off. Then I took off my blouse and stood before him in panties and bra, hands on hips.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" I said. "Take my panties off."
He gasped and slipped his fingers inside the band of my panties, then rolled them over my hips. When he saw my pussy, he just knelt there gawking at it.
"Hurry . . . " I said. "Oh, Philip . . . "
He pulled my panties down my legs and I stepped out of them.
"Now kiss me there!" I said, spreading my legs. "Kiss me!"
He didn't hesitate, and I grabbed his hair and worked his mouth into my slit. Jesus, I couldn't stop coming. It was as if a dam had burst, and we were both moaning like a couple of animals. He was lapping at me like a dog, and I stood there grinning, staring up at the ceiling as that delicious sensation washed over me. My legs began to tremble, and I was afraid I'd lose my balance. So I sat down and opened my legs, sliding my ass over the edge of the chair so he could eat me to his heart's content. He didn't know what to do, but just feeling those young lips against my pussy sent me out of this world.
"Mmmmmm, that's it," I groaned. "Oooooh, that's just right. C'mon, Philip. Eat me, honey! Ummmmm . . . "
He might still be sucking my cunt today if I didn't pull him out of there. His face was wet with pussy juice, and I giggled as I shoved my papers and hooks off my desk. We were going all the way, and I wanted plenty of room.
"Get undressed!" I said. "I'm going to give you what every boy wants . . . "
He hopped out of his clothes, and when I turned to him, I saw the most gorgeous cock I'd ever imagined. It was long, nearly ten inches I thought, and beautiful, smooth and dark. I unfastened my bra and let my tits flop free.
"C'mere and give Momma a little lovin', " I said.
He stumbled forward and shoved his face into my breasts. I grabbed his cock and started masturbating him as he sucked my nipples. Lord, that was sweet! And then I got an idea. I lay back on the desk and told him to get on top of me. My legs were draped over one end of the desk, and I slid his dick between my tits.
"Now I'm gonna make you come!" I shrieked. "All over my tits!"
I must ve been crazy to say something like that to him. I mean, I was crazy. The whole world had dropped away. Just he and I existed, and I could do anything I wanted with him. He was mine, a toy, a servant. He loved me, I knew that, or he wouldn't respond so obediently. He was perfect, a prince.
(NOTE: Martha is now acting out one of her prime fantasies. In order to enjoy sex with a male, she must feel superior, dominant. Out of fear and lust, Philip does exactly as he is told, and Martha responds feverishly. While a man would pose certain dangers for her, Philip is not at all threatening. She is completely relaxed and uninhibited. She deludes herself by thinking that his acquiescence involves love, which she wants so badly. And so, the fantasy is complete; all the ingredients have been gathered, and Martha can truly enjoy sex for the first time in her life.)
I pressed my tits against his prick, and he began bucking his hips, working his cock between my breasts. I had rubbed some of my cunt juice over my tits, so it was as if he were fucking his cock into my pussy instead of between my tits.
"Ahhhhhh, God!" he moaned. "I can't hold it back! I'm gonna come!"
"Yessss," I hissed. "Come! Go ahead, come!"
The stuff came spewing out, splattering all over me. Some of it splashed onto my lips, and I sucked it into my mouth. It tasted good, hot and sticky. I gripped his ass and pulled him closer, so I could take his prick between my lips.
"Lemme suck it!" I cried. "Oh, Philip! Put it in my mouth!"
He got the idea, and I worked my tongue along the underside of his cock, toying and teasing, trying to draw his orgasm out as long as I could. I knew he'd be able to get it up in several minutes so we could fuck. Boys are studs; they can screw all day and all night.
"Oooooh, shit!" he gasped as I sucked the tip of his cock.
I laughed and pulled him deep into my mouth. His dick throbbed, and I drew the last drops from him. Then I pushed him away.
"Suck my pussy again," I ordered, "until your thing gets hard again. Then I want you to fuck me. You hear me, Philip. I want you to get it up and then shove it into my cunt. I want to lay you, honey. Your first screw!"
He slid his mouth down my belly and resumed kissing my snatch. I lifted my ass off the desk and swiveled it over his face. I had come at least a dozen times by then, but I was by no means through. Every orgasm seemed to trigger another, and each was more intense than the previous one. I was in heaven, and I didn't care if the principal and half the staff walked in. I had waited all my life for what Philip was giving me; I wasn't about to stop.
"Philip!" I rasped, my voice thick and heavy. "Ohhh, Philip! Fuck me! Now, Philip! Now!"
He clambered on top of me, and I reached for his dick. It was stiff as a board, and I could have cried with joy. This was it, the moment I had longed for, I eased it into my cunt, then twitched my hips. It sank in like a knife, and I clasped my legs around his back, imprisoning him between my thighs until I was damn good and ready to let him go.
"Ohhhhhh," he groaned. "Wow! It's fantastic! Fantastic!"
I hugged him close, and he thrust against me, fucking his dick into my pussy with steady strokes.
"Yehhh, baby!" I said. "That's right. Just like that. Ooooh, you fuck so good, baby! Mmmmm, yessss . . . "
When he came, I thought I'd die. It gushed into me, and I lurched up at him, sucking it from him. And then I joined him, going off like a series of cannon blasts. I'll never forget it. Nothing ever approached it, before or since. I suppose it would have been better if I had died, the way things turned out. But I'm grateful I lived long enough to experience that moment. His body tensed, and I jerked my cunt over his prick, his sperm jetting into my pussy.
I scraped my back on the desk, I worked so hard at it. When we were finished fucking, I made him suck my cunt dry, and then told him to leave. I thought that I'd never see him again, except in the classroom during school hours.
I went home and conked out, and when I woke, my pussy itched like a sixteen-year-old's. I wanted him again! I couldn't believe it! What was happening to me? I had to push him out of my mind, but I couldn't manage it. I masturbated, thinking about him. And the next day in class, I couldn't keep my eyes off him.
"Philip, come up here, please," I said.
When he was at my desk, I handed him a piece of paper telling him to meet me by the south door after school. He read it, then handed it back to me and I tore it up as he stood smiling at me. I could hardly bear the rest of the day, and when the bell rang, I rushed out and got in my car. I waited until the school emptied out, then cruised around to meet Philip. I was scared stiff. Suppose someone saw us? Why had I taken such a chance? I looked toward the door and saw him sitting on a railing, with a friend. I beeped the horn, and they both came toward me. I almost panicked. I realized that be must've told his friend what happened, and the other boy wanted in! I considered driving away until I got a good look at Philip's companion. He was a doll, handsome as the devil. I opened the door and they both got in.
"And just who's this?" I asked, trying to sound hard.
"Bobby," Philip said simply.
"And who said you could bring him along?"
"Nobody. I just figured two guys would be better than one."
I had to smile. He was so cute. And he had a point, too.
"You drive?" I asked him, and he nodded. "Good. I'm getting in the back seat with Bobby. Drive out of town, towards the woods."
I hustled into the rear seat and took the boy in my arms. Or I should say, he took me. He wasn't as big as Philip, but he was just as strong and more aggressive. He kissed me hard, drilling his tongue between my teeth.
"Ummmm," I moaned. "You have such nice friends, Philip . . . "
The kid was in my pants before we parked the car. It was marvelous, rocking down the highway with a beautiful boy crawling between my legs. We didn't waste any time. I had his dick in my pussy in no time, and we fucked merrily. Philip would look over the seat at us and stare. I blew kisses to him, pursing my mouth as if I wanted to suck his dick. I thought we were going to crash. He could hardly keep his eves on the road. That would've made some story. I wanted to do it, just for the hell of it. Can you see the headlines: HIGH SCHOOL SEX CLUB EXPOSED! TEACHER LURED BOYS INTO SIN! Now that's the kind of news that sells papers, eh what?
"We're here!" Philip yelled. "Now get off her, Bobby. I want my turn . . . "
"Shut up, man! Can't you see I'm busy?" I laughed and moved onto Bobby's lap, impaling myself on that sweet prick of his. You know, they say that American men make lousy fevers. That may be true, but I'm telling you they weren't born that way. Those boys could really fuck, and if they're bad in bed when they get older, I don't know whose fault it'll be. I know it won't be mine. We had ourselves a ball that afternoon. Philip was right, too; two cocks are better than one. I fitted one in my ass while I took the other in my cunt, and let me tell you that was something! We had ourselves a ball, and we met again. Soon, I had a whole stable of studs coming around to see me. They were all friends of boys I had fucked, and everything was rosy until one of them blabbed to his parents. They informed the school authorities, and I was before the principal, who gave me what you might call a rather brutal interrogation. I collapsed in the middle of it, and the doctor at the hospital gave me your name once I was released. I figured I'd come see you for the hell of it. What have I got to lose?
REMARKS: Martha was extremely fortunate in that the school did not press charges against her. As a result of the aggressive interrogation by her superiors, whom she could have prosecuted for assault, the matter was dropped entirely, her resignation simply accepted routinely by the Board of Education. She will continue in therapy, so that similar incidents can be prevented. Her impulses are healthy, they must simply be redirected, men rather than boys becoming her lovers. If she continues to show as much determination as she has exhibited in psychotherapy so far, I am certain that she can some day take up a normal and productive life.
PATIENT. Jim W., twenty-three, writer.
REMARKS: Handsome and articulate, Jim was eager to tell me his story. He believes firmly that therapy can untangle his twisted life and give it new meaning. Although arrested for attempted rape shortly before he came to my office, he was freed, the woman dropping charges when she realized the nature of his illness. His first session was extremely productive, and a text of it follows.
JIM: I suppose I was one of those so-called mixed-up kids people are always talking about But there's more to it than that, of course. It can't be dismissed so lightly. I mean, it certainly wasn't my fault. When I was a kid, I was almost always alone. My parents were too busy to spend much time with me; they seemed to think that once a kid was born, you just fed and clothed him and that was all there was to being a parent. So I stayed alone. I was skinny and very introverted. I was afraid of people. And then, when I matured, I didn't know what to do with my sexual urges. I masturbated heavily, reading all sorts of wild books that would turn me on. I knew all about sex, but my experience amounted to zero, zilch. I was ripe and ready pickings for my aunt. The day it happened I was sixteen. Aunt Ellen was babysitting for me. Do you dig that? A sixteen-year-old kid with a babysitter. Shit, they must've thought I was gonna burn down the house while they were out, or something. Anyway, Aunt Ellen shows up and my loving parents depart.
Now, Aunt Ellen is some piece, let me tell yon. I mean, she has a body on her that would drive any normal man up the wall. I had jerked off plenty of times imagining what it would be like to get my hands on her, to fuck her silly. She was a cock-teaser, and my cock loved being teased by that pussy. But of course, I never expected to make it with her, ever. I just masturbated, with her acting as a sex symbol for me until I could find my own woman or girl.
"Hello, Jimmy," she smiles as she comes in the door and my parents go out. "I'm so glad to see you. We're going to have a good time tonight, aren't we?"
Sure, we're going to have a good time. Playing chess or some goofy thing like that, I figure. It took me a while to realize she had something else in mind. We watched television for a couple of hours, before things really got rolling. I should say, she watched television and I watched her. She was wearing one of those baggy, one-piece dresses that show a lot, you know? And she was sitting there with the goddamn thing up around her neck. I swear, she left little to my imagination. I thought that she assumed I wouldn't bother looking, her being my aunt and all.
"Where's Uncle John tonight?" I asked her after an hour of TV.
"Oh, he's out with the boys somewhere," she sighs. "He doesn't tell me where he goes. He jnst goes."
There's a pregnant pause, and then she turns, her tits nearly falling out of that dress, and asks me if I feel lonely.
"Sure, I'm usually lonely," I said. "That's why you're here tonight, to make sure I don't go out and meet some friends. Dad's afraid I'll get into trouble and ruin his good name. You know how kids are these days."
"I think your father's a fool, along with that sister of mine," she said, and I could tell she meant it. "I hope you don't mind my saying that."
"Hell, no!" I laughed. "I'm glad to get a concurring opinion."
She giggled and patted the conch cushion next to her.
"Come sit over her," she said, real soft and low. "Let's talk.. . . "
I moved next to her, trying not to get too close, as close as I would like to get. But she eased next to me, and I found myself with a clear view of those stupendous boobs of hers. She was about thirty-nine, and the years hadn't taken anything away from her. That body was choice and firm. I could feel myself grow hot, and I wanted to get up and move to the chair. After all, she was a grown woman, my aunt, and I was just a kid. It wasn't right.
(NOTE: Jim's reactions are normal. Although his attraction to his aunt is natural, any further intimacy with her constitutes incest. The woman is obviously leading the boy on, however, and he finds himself in a tenuous position. He does not want to insult the woman, hut he is afraid that his impulses will cause him to do something he will regret. His alienation from his parents makes the situation even more difficult, for his aunt is the single person who has shown any interest in him at all. It can not be easy for him to turn away from her. She most likely realizes this and will use it to her advantage.)
"Like I said," she continued, "your father and mother are foolish not to understand what a wonderful boy they have. I only wish John and I were able to have children. I'd pray for one like you.. . . "
Now, that kind of talk was music to my ears. I had begun to believe that I was some kind of freak, a misfit that didn't belong anywhere and would be better off dead. I'd often considered suicide, really, I did. I was desperate. And afraid. If I really wanted to go out, I would have. My parents wouldn't have been able to stop me. But I was scared of the world. And of girls. I was sixteen, and all I'd ever done was kiss a couple of girls. I was horny as hell, but frightened to go out and get what I wanted. My parents encouraged that feeling and made it easy for me to stay at home.
"You're embarrassing me," I said to my aunt. "My parents always tell me I'm a pain in the ass and that I ought to grow up."
"Grow up? Why, you're very mature for only eighteen."
"Sixteen," I said.
"Sixteen! Why, I didn't know . . . I mean, voi look so much older."
"Thanks. I feel older, too."
She smiled, and her eyes seemed to light up as if she'd just found out something that was very interesting to her. Now I realize that i was my age that intrigued her. She liked the idea of my being only sixteen. The younger the better.
"The way your parents treat you, I'm surprised you find any time for girls," she said.
"Well, to tell you the truth, I don't find any time for them. I hardly ever go on dates. Jus girls that are friends of the family."
"Oh, that's a shame! Such a cute, handsome boy like you . . . "
She smiled, and all of a sudden I felt he fingers playing with the hair along the back of my neck. I almost went through the roof. I mean, she was giving me a solid come-on. I didn't know what the hell to do.
"Why, I bet you make a lot of girls awfully happy," she went on. "I even know some women who'd be glad to meet a cute thing like you."
Well, I blubbered something about being flattered, but really, I just wanted to get the hell out of there, or get her out of there. I was sorry that she'd come.
"Have you ever, uhh, petted with a girl?" she asked.
I blushed a very deep shade of red, crimson, I believe they call it.
"Uh, no, I haven't," I said. "Like I said, I just kissed a few."
"Would you like to pet? Do you like girls, Jimmy?"
"Sure, sure. I mean, yeh, I like girls. The right girl. . . "
"The right girl? What would she look like?"
Aunt Ellen moved a little closer, and her fingers kept toying with my hair. My skin felt like it was afire, and my dick was swelling up in my pants as if it was being inflated with a bicycle pump. I was beginning to get pissed off, too. Her game was annoying, I didn't feel like being treated like some kind of naive, ignorant baby.
"Describe her," my aunt persisted. "What kind of body would she have? Thin? Or heavy, like mine?"
"Listen, what do you want me to say, huh? That I'd like to make love to a woman like you?"
I regretted saying that the moment the last word was out.
She jumped at it. "Would you?" she smiled, playing it coy. "Would you like to make love to mc, Jimmy?"
"No," I said quickly. "I didn't mean that. Forget it."
"C'mon, Jimmy," she said, and her voice made my dick jump. "Let's make love. Let's . . . "
She slung both arms around me, and the first thing I knew, I was giving my aunt a big, fat soul kiss. Her tongue was doing crazy things in my month, and I couldn't pull away from her. She smelled so good, and she felt so soft and juicy. Something inside my brain was warning me to stay away from her, but something inside my prick was screaming at me to fuck the shit out of her.
"Ohhhh, Jimmy!" she gasped. "That was wonderful. Kiss me again, honey. You're so' sweet, so young."
(NOTE: Jim's aunt, suffering from serious problems of her own, has now tempted her nephew to make his own difficulties substantially worse. She knows that he is backward sexually, and her own frustrations have driven her to seek a lover who is much younger than herself. Jim is a likely candidate, and she pursues him mercilessly.)
I jammed my mouth onto those lovely lips of hers and gave her all I had. My prick felt like it had turned to iron. She reached down and felt it, and I thought I was gonna come in my pants.
"Yesss, you are mature, aren't you?" she giggled. "Quite mature."
I slid my hands underneath her blouse and caressed her skin. It was smooth and hot, and I tried to unfasten her bra.
"Jimmy!" she teased. "What are you doing? Are you trying to get my bra off? I'm your aunt! What a thing to do!"
For a moment, I thought she was serious. I felt relieved. A couple of kisses couldn't harm anyone, and now it was over. Or so I thought. She stood up, and her fingers began unbuttoning the front of her dress.
"You want to see my tits, eh?" she said. "All right, but wait a minute. Let's have a drink first."
She went into the kitchen, and I heard her banging around. I paced back and forth, not knowing what the hell to do. My head felt as if it were gonna bust wide open. I was nervous as lull, and I knew that if I didn't do something, I wasn't going to be able to resist her. But then she was back, and she handed me a drink that nearly knocked me out. I found out later that it was a vodka sour, and that was the last time I ever drank vodka sours. I was high in five minutes, and suddenly we were rolling on the couch and I was trying to get my hands up her dress.
"No, no!" she squealed. "Let me entertain von! Hahhhh!"
She hopped to her feet, giving me this sultry look as she began to strip. She accompanied herself vocally, rasping this sexy melody as she swiveled back and forth. It sounded fine to me, and besides, I was hardly paying attention to the music. My eyes were glued to that sex-packed body of hers, and I wondered how many men had gotten a taste of her. She was a slut, obviously, and sluts are usually very popular and have many intimate friends. I was quite ready at that point to become one of them. And it was at that point that the doorbell rang. Aunt Ellen stopped dead in her tracks, then beat it into the bathroom. I cursed and went to the door. She hadn't shown me anything, hadn't given me a glimpse of those luscious tits. I was mad.
"James!" my mother said, stepping inside. "Where's your aunt?"
"In the John," I said, "hemorrhaging. You know, the old war wound . .
"Stop talking madness," my father counseled. "What's wrong with her?"
"Her bladder over-inflated," I said. "She's taking out some air."
"James!" my mother said.
"Ignore him," Dad advised. "C'mon. Let's go to bed. What a terrible evening. The Bensons didn't even show up. Can you imagine? And us sitting there with reservations for four. I felt like a fool."
I wanted to tell him that he should stick with that feeling, that it was a real one, but I laid off. He would of beat the shit out of me with the furniture. He was very strong. And violent.
I played it cool for the next few days, wanting to call my aunt but afraid that she'd tell me she'd only been playing. Then she called me.
"How's my favorite nephew today?" she asked. "Found yourself a girlfriend yet?"
"No. Unless you mean you . . . "
She laughed and told me to meet her outside the apartment building in a half hour, and we'd take a little drive in the park. She was thirty minutes late, but if you think I complained to her, you're crazy. She looked great. My dick started to jump.
"Hope you're feeling up to par today," she said, sliding her hand onto my crotch. "Hmmmm, yesss. Everything seems just fine."
We parked in a deserted section, and she didn't take long to get down to business. Her arms went about my neck, and again, I tasted those sweet lips. I shoved my hands under her tits and took a nice feel.
"C'mon," she gasped. "Let's get to it. I don't want any more interruptions."
She raised her skirt, and I was very pleased to see that she had not bothered to wear any panties. Her cunt was red and glistening, and she slid into my lap, easing her pussy over my cock, which I had quickly yanked free.
"Ummmm, now fuck me," she moaned. "Ohhh, yehhh. I've waited too long for this. . . . "
My dick eased into her, and she wriggled in my lap, jerking her lush body over my cock. I unbuttoned her blouse and unsnapped her bra. Her tits bounced free and she shoved them in my face.
"Suck 'em while we do it!" she hissed. "Yessss, that's it."
I tried to fuck her as long as I could before I came. But I couldn't control myself too long. I mean, this was my aunt and we were doing something that I had only dreamed of before today. She grinned at me, a wild look that made my blood boil. I mean, she was some pussy! Fantastic! I shot my load into her, and she moved off me. My pants were a mess, and she giggled.
"Hope Mommy and Daddy aren't home when von get there," she said. "You'll have a lot of explaining to do."
My parents weren't home, and I washed my pants out myself. Then I phoned her.
"You what?" she said.
"I want to do it again."
"Well, it looks like I've given birth to a monster. Mother will never forgive me, may she rest in peace. All right, I've got an idea. Take the bus over here. I'm having dinner with a friend of mine. I think she'll be very glad to meet you."
I grabbed a cab and hustled over to m aunt's apartment. Her friend was several year younger than Aunt Ellen, and sexier. I couldn't believe my luck. One day, I'm a horny teenager going mad trying to find a decent fuck. The next, I'm taking on two women in one night. Too much. They gave me some wine, and my aunt put a few records on the stereo. The other chick, Elaine, was a dancer, and she tried to show me a few steps. I caught on fast, and soon I was high and stumbling all over the joint with the blonde. I let my hands roam all over her, and she didn't try to stop me. My aunt left the room, and the blonde pulled me into the couch.
"You're so cute!" she said. "Ellen has told me all about you. I really like you.. .
I didn't need any more encouragement. I shoved my hands under her dress and groped for her pussy. She spread those big legs, long and muscular, and I pushed her panties aside and fingered her cunt. She was dripping wet. And hot as a furnace.
"Put your finger way in," she said, and I complied. "Christ, ohhh, that feels good!"
For some reason, I was afraid my aunt would return and catch us playing around.
"Forget her," Elaine said. "We've got all the time in the world. Don't stop now."
I didn't. I took her panties off, and she unbuckled my belt. We were nude in a jiffy, her plush body spread invitingly on the couch. She stared at my cock, amazed at its size.
"I didn't know young .boys were so big," she said. "I've only screwed with men."
'That's a shame," I countered. "You don't know what you've been missing. Boys are better lovers than men, you know."
"Really?"
She spread the lips of her cunt, and I stared into the filmy slickness. I wanted to suck it dry.
"Ever eaten pussy?" she asked.
A mind reader who loved to fuck!
"Sure," I lied, believing it to be the truth.
I hopped onto the couch, and she spread her legs even wider, so wide that her cunt looked as though it would split open.
"Stick your tongue out, honey," she said. "That's it. Ooooh, it's nice and long. Wiggle it a little. Umnunm, that's nice. Okay, get busy with it. Let's go, baby. Just dive in. Ahhhhhhh, yesssss. Go ahead, suck it. Suck it good for lovely Elaine. Ummmmmmm . . . "
I sucked that bitch's cunt until I was drunk on it. I mean, I fell in love with the taste of hot pussy. You know, they always say that you have to get past the smell? Well, I even dug that. It was strong, and it made my dick hop like it was gonna flop right off my body.
Man, I was in seventh heaven. Or perhaps, the eighth. I just sucked that sweet come as it poured out of her snatch. And I mean, it poured out! Hot and thick, nice and tasty.
Lord, it was good. And then my aunt reappeared, looking like a vision, her smooth skin white in the soft light. I left the blonde and went for Aunt Ellen. She gathered me into those soft arms and we stood frenching in the middle of the room, my dick pressed into her belly. She wormed herself over it, and I thought I was gonna come on the spot. I worked my fingers into her pussy, shoving my middle fingers deep into her slit. She mewed like a kitten, and I knew that she was as hot for me as any woman could be for cock.
(NOTE: Jim makes an interesting comparison, saying that he constitutes nothing more than a penis to a woman. He does not conceive of himself as a bright boy with great potential for becoming a happy and satisfied man. He is locked into a sexual cage, believing that his aptitude for making love will lead him into manhood and prove that he is indeed a man.
Naturally, he will always be unconvinced using such a method. He will always think of himself as being nearly a man, unless he understands what it is that makes a man a man. He must realize that sex is not the sole means toward making a man of himself. His preference for older women must be overcome, so that his sexual habits are nearer normal.)
"Now, now, now!" my aunt shrieked, and I didn't deny her. I pushed her onto the floor, then slid between her thighs. My dick went in like magic. Wow! What a fuck she gave me, or I gave her, or we gave ourselves. Man, it was outasight! She thrust those strong hips up at me, and my cock went so deep into her I thought she was gonna scream.
And when I came! It was as if I had blasted into space. I swear I blacked out! I remember grimacing, gritting my teeth as if I were in pain. And it really was pain, to tell you the truth. It was too much! A man could die from a fuck like that! Anyway, I had no sooner rolled off her than Elaine was on me. That is, her mouth was on me. That woman sucked my dick until it was stiff as a board again. She was a magician, a sorceress, I thought.
"Lemme ride it," she moaned as she pulled her lips away from my cock. "Just lay back, honey, and rest. Let Momma do all the work. Ooh!Ooh! Yehhh!"
It was then that I realized I really dug top-riding. Aunt Ellen had done it that way the day before, during my first fuck. And now, Elaine was bouncing over my cock like a rubber ball. And all I had to do was sit there and let it happen! Fantastic! Every once in a while, I'd grab her hips and work her cunt just the way I wanted it worked. I'd slow it down until I was in torture, then stop so I'd postpone coming, then start again real fast. What a blast! And that blonde hair of hers swirling around her face, and that grin! I mean to tell you, that woman looked downright evil!
And then she made me come. I didn't want to, fucking her felt so good. But she just took it from me, refused to let me slow her. Her tits flopped and jounced like a couple of cantaloupes. I grabbed hold of them and rode out the storm. When I came with her, I thought she was gonna pull my guts out with it. I yelled and bellowed, tossing around on the floor like a madman.
Finally, it was over, and I lay there, breathing heavily, trying to recuperate. I felt as though I'd been flogged. And my mania for older women deepened. I figured they were the only ones that could make me fee! really complete, a whole man. And suddenly, I began to think of myself as a man. I mean, I was flicking grown women and making them love it, wasn't I? Well, then I must be a man, a young man, if you like. Who the hell wanted girls? With their pouts and their tantrums. Milkshakes and lollipops. The hell with it! I had two women now, and I didn't need any girls in the stable. More women, maybe, but no sweet young things.
And then she was gone, dead in an automobile accident with my uncle. Elaine disappeared, and I was alone again. I decided that it wouldn't be for long. I remembered everything my aunt had told me' about older women, how they all secretly lust after young cock. I had to pick out a woman who would put up the least resistance and make a move. My first attempt involved someone close to home; our neighbor on the fourth floor, Mrs. Elvin James. She was gorgeous, a real looker. I caught her wheeling her baby carriage into the elevator one day, and hustled a ride. I didn't hop in with luv-luv, I just strolled along beside her. She didn't know what to make of it at first, and I kept my cool, pretending to be sincerely interested in her. She ended up blabbing to me about her husband, who was going out on her, with other women. She knew it, but was afraid to let him go, get a divorce. I sympathized greatly, and soon I had my arm around her shoulder. She turned out to be a hot one, a hell of a hot one.
"I like you, what you've said to me," she smiled. "But I know you're not saying it because you're vitally concerned. You want some pussy, nicht war?"
I did a small double-take and tried to seem reasonably intelligent.
, "Uh, well, I guess you've got a bead on me. Yeh, that's what I want. But you're wrong to thing I've been playing with you. I've heard talk that you've been unhappy, and I was sorry for you. I didn't want to give you pity. I just thought we might fill up some of our loneliness together."
Did that jive? You better believe it! She fell into my arms like a baby! Beautiful! We ran back to the apartment and put the kid in his crib. Then we got down to business. In the bedroom. Her husband's bed served just fine. She stripped for me, as I lay there staring at her as if she was the feature show. Then she climbed onto that bed and sucked my cock until I thought it'd bleed. She didn't want to be fucked. Her husband gave her plenty of that. But he couldn't stand to have her touch his dick, as if she were unclean or something.
Me, I just let her have her fill, and she loved me for it, I swear. She made love to my cock like I'd make love to her. After that, I was hooked. All I wanted were older women, chicks with children and in their thirties and forties. But good-looking, well preserved, to say the least. And I found them, but it got tougher and tougher. I wanted the sensation of the first conquest, making it with a woman the very first time. Damn! Its exciting! You can't imagine, Doc.
The cops busted me when this one woman started screaming. We were in the park, and I thought I'd gauged her right. I'd thought she was giving me the open road. But then she started to yell, and bing! Cops all over the place. We were too near the street, and I hardly ran three steps when this big, blue sonuvabitch clubbed me. That was when I was twenty. They let me go easy, but then I got caught a couple of months ago and they said they were gonna throw away the key. I wish they'd throw me away. I feel like dyin'.
REMARKS: It is unlikely that Jim will receive a harsh sentence, for the state's psychiatrists told me they would turn in a favorable report on the boy. He will remain on parole, most likely, but will be required to see me several times a week. As I have noted, the woman has dropped her charges against him, and his conduct will most likely represent only a parole violation.
PATIENT: Wilma R., twenty-nine, housewife.
REMARKS: Extremely beautiful and sporting the sleek appearance of the jet-set type, Wilma came to me voluntarily after a particularly traumatic experience that she will detail in the text of her therapy session. Although extremely despondent, Wilma worked hard at articulating her feelings and experiences.
WILMA: I was born rich, and I suppose I'll die rich, but I've never seen happiness. Oh, I tasted a little of it when I was playing around with my boys, but it was only fleeting, a glimpse, really. The whole thing started when I married Arnold. He's a friend of the family, and he's a bastard. I married him when I was seventeen, believe it or not. I was innocent and wide-eyed, and he said he loved me for it. Shit . . . what bull. But I fell for it and him, and we were wed. How nice.
Then he took me to hell with him. I was eighteen when I attended my first swap party. It didn't take him too long to figure out that he wouldn't mind swapping his pussy for somebody else's. It sort of excited him. You know, being wrong and all. He was a hung-up bastard, and lousy in bed. He could only get it up with a tramp, somebody who didn't know him. Then, when he thought that it was sufficiently sinful, that dick would blow up and he'd be ready for some action. But with me, he was a dud. I agreed to swap because I was stupid, if you want it plain.
"Wonderful!" he said. "Wait and see, it'll help our sex life. I mean it.. . . "
Sure. Too bad it didn't work like that. I hated him for it, and then I hated myself. I stopped going to his parties, but he found himself a girlfriend who went with him. We never slept together, and I got so lonely, I thought I was losing my mind. I needed a man, but I didn't need one, if you know what I mean. I disliked men. They were cruel and boorish, animals.
And then I found what I wanted. A boy. The kid who came on afternoons to work on our stinking landscape. He was tall, strong, and good-looking. Movie-star looks in a jerk. I used to stand at the window, toying with my pussy as I watched his muscles flex in the sun, the skin gleaming with sweat. Shit, I was hot as hell for him! I wanted to yank him inside and tear his clothes off, for God's sake. It was insane, and I tried to ignore him, but there was no chance of that. Like I said, I was too hot and too lonely. So I seduced him. It was easy.
(NOTE: With her antipathy toward men, Wilma finds a boy the perfect sex partner. The frustration of her marriage has been concentrated in her lust for the boy. He represents evcry thing she does not have; sexual satisfaction, love, youth. By youth, I mean the adolescent youthfulness of her late teens, which she spent in misery with her husband. She wants to experience all that she missed in those painful years, and the boy is the perfect means.)
"Hello there!" I shouted to him one day, coming out the door in my briefest bikini.
He just stared at me, and I swayed across the lawn and dived into the pool. He went back to work, and again I called to him.
"Hey, why don't you join me! It's too hot to work."
I thought that perhaps he was a deaf mute. He kept standing there, as though he were a tourist. I climbed out of the pool and walked toward him. The pool hadn't cooled me off a bit. I was as hot as ever and the sun added to the heat.
"I'm not kidding," I said. "Why don't you join me for a swim? You're almost finished aren't you? Leave the rest for another day. It's all right with me."
"But, I-"
He could speak! Marvelous!
"Never mind the buts. Follow me."
I turned around and walked away, trying to give my hips a little extra roll, as if the kid needed to see anything more.
"But I don't have a suit," he said feebly.
I knew I had him then. "This is a private pool," I said. "We'll swim in the nude."
His eyes opened so wide, I thought I'd laugh. I came toward him, reaching behind me to unfasten my bikini top. His gaze dropped to my tits, and I let the bra fall away.
"Christ!" he murmured.
"You like?" I teased, smiling at him and coming closer.
"Yehhhh, they're so . . . big."
I had to laugh this time. At the same time, I slid my arms around his neck and pulled his mouth down on mine. He kissed good, hot and long. I felt his palms on my ass and twisted again. Lord, he couldn't have been more than seventeen, maybe younger. He was gardening part-time during the summer. He said he wanted to go to college, but he didn't need to think or learn. His dick would've kept him happy. It was beautiful, long and thick-veined. I had it out of his pants in a few moments, and he looked down at it with me as if he'd never seen it before. I suppose he'd never seen it resting in a woman's hand.
"We can't do this, out here in front of-"
"No one can see us, love. You know that. Stop being so scared. You're going to enjoy this. And so am I."
I didn't need to say any more. He got out of his clothes and followed me into the pool. I pulled off my bikini panties and rested my arms on the edge of the pool. He slid into the water and looked at me as if I was the promised land. But he was still scared, I could tell by his eyes.
"Ooooooh, you're such a luscious animal," I said to him, opening my legs. "Come give me a little, honey.. . . "
He stepped forward, and the water swirled about those lovely muscles. His dick was standing up straight, and all I cared about was getting it in me. My pussy felt as if someone had put a match to it. AH he had to do was shove that prick against my belly, and I would've come. Shit, the whole scene was enough to get me off. I mean, here's this sweet young kid who's never fucked before in his life, or so he told me later, and me throwing myself at him as though I were some kind of nymphomaniac or whore.
I suppose I was a little overheated. Women just don't do those sort of things, much less to young boys. But nothing could stop me. I had to have him. I had already decided that I was going to suck that strong cock of his while we were in the pool. I might drown, but I wasn't going to miss a thing. We were going to do it all, everything I could think of. For starters, I had him between my legs.
"Yessss," I moaned, throwing my head back so it rested on the stone blocks lining the edge of the pool. "Stick it in. Just push. Yesssssssss. Ohhhhhh, Lord. That's it. Oh, that's fantastic. You're soooo big. Damn, you fucking stud. God, I could eat you up, you lovely prick. Ummmmmmmm . . . "
God, I can feel the whole thing come over mc again, as I lie here. I guess I was freaked out on boys before I even tried one of them. I was ripe for it. I needed a dick, as I've already told you, and fresh, young dicks was the only kind I wasn't afraid of. I hate to admit it, but I became afraid of men, not only angry at them. They could hurt me so much. But boys-well, I didn't think a boy could take advantage of me. At least, not in any way that was really harmful and hurtful. If anything, I was in a position to hurt him. I guess that kind of excited me, too. The power to destroy. I felt strong, dominant. He was all mine. I could eat him alive.
(NOTE: Wilma's confused thoughts are evident in the last few sentences. She says she hated men because they hurt her, and yet she likes the idea that she can inflict pain on boys. She was both in love with and afraid of men, and she carries those emotions to her affair with the boy. But with the boy, she has the power to hurt. Suddenly, she Incomes all-powerful, and it stimulates her sexually.)
He worked that big dick through me until I thought I was going to die. Then he came in thick spurts, and I climbed all over him. I bit him, I clawed him. That boy was a mess by the time I let him go. He flopped away, lying on his back in the water like a sea lion, that dick hanging in the water. I went after it, grabbing it and stuffing it in my mouth as we both went under. Damn, that was a hell of a lot of fun, more fun than I've had in years.
He finally got the idea of what I was doing after a lot of mad thrashing in the water. I suppose he thought I had flipped and wanted to bite his dick off. When I calmed him down, just caressing and squeezing it, I could take the whole thing in my mouth. It was wild! Incredible. I was underwater sucking a boy's dick, in the backyard of my own home. When I came up for air, we climbed out of the pool onto the grass. Then I really went to work on him.
And that stud just lay there and enjoyed every second of it! He was so cute! I loved him, I really did. More than I've ever loved anybody. That may seem sad, but I was damn happy then.
"Yehhhhh," he moaned. "Right there. Ohhh, right there."
I was running my tongue along the underside of his prick, sucking hard, and I dug it. I felt his dick throb, and then blam! He really came. Hard and long, and I swallowed every drop. I had never thought I could do such a thing, although I had sucked my husband's prick. I just never imagined I'd be so hot that I'd wanted to suck a man's sperm right down my throat. But with Bobby, that was the boy's name, I didn't hesitate. I don't think I even considered doing anything but swallowing it. It just happened, and I luxuriated in it.
I was ecstatic. I caressed his balls, squeezed his beautiful muscles, and generally had the time of my sexless life. This was the way it was supposed to be. It took me a long time to find it, but I did. When I finished sucking his cock, I lay back on the grass opposite him.
"A girl ever do that to you?" I asked him.
"No. Never."
He sounded like he couldn't breathe, as if he couldn't find air. He was looking at my body, staring into my cunt. I realized that he had probably never seen one before, unless it was in stag films. So I let my legs drape open a little more. My hand was behind my head and my knees were up. I felt like a queen. It was just a matter of seconds before his tanned face would be between my thighs.
Oooooh, I don't believe it, Doc, but I just came. I mean, that's how much I loved him. And later, there were others. But I'll never forget how it was with Bobby. My first and his first.
"Ever done it like that to a girl?" I continued.
He didn't answer; his eyes just burned into me for a few seconds, and then he was down there, lapping at me like a dog. He didn't know what to do, didn't realize that he could drive me out of my mind if he nibbled on my clitoris. So I had to show him. I moved his head with my hands, pulling him deep into my cunt whenever I wanted to. I'd move his mouth opposite my slit and tell him just what I wanted.
"Stick your tongue in it," I said. "Feel it? Yessss, there! Oooooooh, God. That's it, as far in as it'll go. Wiggle it! Mmmmmmmm, shit! Suck it, honey. Oh, suck it, you devil!"
He was a quick learner. I showed him where my clit was, and he drew it between his lips and drove his tongue against the tip of it, just like I told him. I didn't think my damn clit could get any larger, but I'm damned if the thing didn't fill up with blood like a balloon! And so sensitive I was losing my mind. His tongue flicked against the end of it, again and again! I couldn't stand it! I came, then again, then again and again. They came one right after the other, a string of them exploding inside me. Come gushed out of me, and I made him taste it, suck it up and swallow it. He liked the taste of it, he told me later. He wallowed in it, burrowing against my snatch until his whole face was wet with it.
"Waaaaaahhhhhhh, Yesssss, suck me!" I shrieked, and then he was off me.
"What are you doing!" I yelled.
I found out. He spread my legs and drilled that dick right into my pussy. Lord, he was incredible. His prick was iron hard, and he had already come twice within minutes! He was hung like a horse, and I realized that he could probablv perform like one. Hah! What a man, a boy-man!
"Ohhhhh, here it comes," he groaned, and I thrust my hips up at him.
He unloaded, and we gasped through the last orgasm of the afternoon. When he had left, giving me his phone number first so that we could meet again before he came back to tidy up our insipid garden, I went for a real swim, just stroking through the warm water to lie on my back, on my face, water all around me. I felt as if I was outside my own body, enjoying every emotion twice over. I was in heaven, and I stayed there until my husband arrived home.
I lay in bed that night, alone, and decided that I couldn't wait for another session with Bobbv. I'd find another boy! And another! I'd get as many as I could take, every day. I laughed out loud at the thought, and my husband woke up and wondered what was the matter. I told him that everything was just fine, that it was an inside joke. He glared at me and went back to sleep.
The next day, I went to the ball field. It was summertime, and all the boys were out of school. I knew they'd be playing ball. What else do hoys do during the summer?
"Hey, get a load of that!" I heard one of the boys say to another as I swayed past them.
I had worn one of my sexiest outfits and was hoping that it wasn't too sexy. I didn't want to bring the P.T.A. out after me with clubs. But there were no adults around. Just me and the young men I was about to recruit for a new kind of game. They were awfully young, only sixteen and seventeen, it seemed. They were fresh-faced and naive, and I knew that I could talk them into doing anything. Kids in their teens are the horniest of species. They've most likely never had their hands on a girl, much less a woman. They had wet dreams at night and dry ones during the day imagining what it would be like to taste the forbidden fruit, to fuck! All I had to do was dangle it in front of their noses, and they'd follow me anywhere, do anything for me.
I was going to become their goddess, their sex queen. I know that sounds crazy, but really, there's no other way to describe the experience. Finally, one of them chased the ball near me, as I sat in the stands by the edge of the field, alternately staring at them and at the sky.
"Hello there!" he said. "How are you?"
He was blond haired and blue eyed. A doll.
"Really want to know?" I smiled, recrossing my legs so that he could get a good look at my legs and a little more. His eyes opened wide, and I thought he was going to forget that he was holding a baseball in his hand that his friends were waiting to be returned.
"Don't leave your friends," I said. "They're waiting for you."
He flung the ball back onto the field and came toward me. My smile must have reassured him that I was available, in some weird way I was open game for him. He was a bold one too, much bolder than Bobby. He stepped onto a seat next to me, then sat down very close. I didn't make any move to back away. Instead, I let my body lean against his. My skin seemed afire, and I knew he must've felt it. I only hoped he realized that he was sitting next to a bitch in heat. And then he could be the bastard.
"Never seen you around here," he said.
"Never been around here before," I replied sweetly. "A shame, too. There are so many nice boys here today."
"Nice? Whad'ya mean, nice?"
"Handsome, attractive . . . "
He just looked at me, a dumbo.
"Like you . . . " I added, and his eyes gleamed.
"You got a car?" he said.
I grinned at him. He was smart, very smart. He would lead a full and happy life. I threw my shoulders back, and he took a long look at my tits, which pressed against my blouse. I wasn't wearing a bra.
"Let's go," I whispered. "Let's go, honey."
He followed me to the car, glancing back to acknowledge the gazes of his friends. They couldn't believe their eyes, I imagine. All of them had ogled me, and now they were cursing themselves for not having made the first move, like their companion had. When we were in the car, I drove straight home.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"To my place," I said. "Any objections?" lie hadn't any, and soon we were in the house. I couldn't wait to feel his hands on me. I eased against him as soon as we were through the door. He stiffened for a moment, then closed his arms about me.
"I can't believe this is happening," he murmured.
I kissed him on the lips, lightly. "Believe it," I said. Believe!"
He shot his tongue between my teeth, and we had a nice long French in the foyer. He could kiss damn good, I thought. I had made a good choice. He'd be as good as Bobby, I knew it.
"Want to fuck me?" I teased.
He gulped.
"C'mon," I said, unbuttoning my blouse. "Let's go up to the bedroom."
You know, you can't talk like that to a man. That shit is strictly for the movies where men are concerned. But with a boy, you can say all the sexy things you always wanted to say. You can tease them, toy with them, turn them on, turn them off. It's a ball. They're at your mercy. They believe everything you say, because you're the Great God Sex. The Fantastic Fuck, the Glorious Cunt they've been waiting for.
"You're sure about this," the kid said to me.
"What's your name?" I smiled, glancing at him over my shoulder.
"Rick."
"Well, Rick, I'll give you everything you want. Understand?"
I went up the stairs to the bedroom, and he was right behind me. Whatever doubts he had harbored, they didn't exist now. Inside the bedroom, I pulled off my blouse and pulled down the sheet. He watched me strip my shorts off, and then I called him over and had him remove my panties. You should have seen his fingers tremble! None of them can help it, the first time. They're so excited, they can barely keep a grip on themselves. One moment, they want to run away; the next, they're trying to rape you.
"My pussy look good to you, Ricky?"
"It's . . . I don't.. . "
"Why don't you kiss it, honey?" I cooed, leaning backwards onto the bed.
I spread my legs, and he looked right into the soul of a glistening wet cunt. His face turned pink, then purple. I had to take him by the ears and pull him into it, but once he was in, he was in to stay. I lay back and let him do whatever he wanted. I didn't feel like instructing him. I just wanted to feel his tongue, his face against my pussy. I came like I was insane. Whenever he hit my clit by accident, I exploded. The tension was terrific. I'd be tight as a drum at the top, and then pow! I'd be plunging, down and down.
"Oh, yesssss, suck it!" I screamed. "Ooooooh!"
Now I was sure of it; I had found Nivirna. I wriggled on that bed like a snake, and he didn't lose me. He stuck with me and drove me to one orgasm after another. I couldn't believe his passion. That a boy could find cunnilingus so enticing seemed absolutely wanton. He was still a virgin, but he had eaten a grown woman's cunt until my come nearly came out his ears.
"Now I want to fuck you!" He sputtered as I pulled from his mouth.
I had had enough. I looked at him and laughed. "You want to what?"
"Fuck," he reiterated.
"Shit, who the hell do you think you are, anyway? Don Juan? Get on your knees, dammit, and kiss my feet. Go ahead, do it!"
I had him scared. He thought I was going to throw him out without giving him all he wanted. I towered over him, and he brought his lips down on my foot, his tongue flicking against my toes. I wriggled them in his mouth, and he sucked them beautifully. I came again, telling him to move up my legs. He did it just right, lingering on my calves and thighs before he darted that sweet tongue into my cunt. He wanted to stay there, but I pulled him up, over my belly to my tits. He sucked like a baby.
My breasts measure thirty-nine inches, Doc, and they're all good meat. He had himself a feast. I was billing and cooing like an overheated pigeon by the time he kissed me on the lips. Finally, I shoved him on his back and climbed atop him.
"What.. . ? " he said.
I don't think he'd ever heard of top riding. Much too young. So I demonstrated the technique. When my pussy slid over his cock, he just sighed and jerked up at me, driving the goddamn thing way up into me. It felt great. I looked down at him, staring at his face as I played with him. His lips would twitch, his cheeks jerked, his eyes opened and closed, the pupils dilated, as I worked on him. It was a joy to be able to drink in every change of expression.
And then a strange thing happened; I became, him. It was as if I were making love to myself. I brought him as far as I could, and then we went off together, precisely together. He clawed at my tits, and I went crazy. I shoved one in his month and tried to tear his dick off with my pussy. Lucky for him he was well made. I heard him gasping for air, his face immersed in tit, and stuffed more of it against him. Lord, I was hot!
"Oh, Christ, no!" he wailed. He was really having trouble. He had come, but I was working his dick into an erection again. He must've been very tender, and I guess it hurt a little. You know how it feels when you've fucked too much and your wife wants more. Doc? Well, this kid felt like that after one fuck. He was in ecstasy, really flying high. I slid down his body and took his dick in my mouth. He yelped, but I held on tight.
"Ohhhhhh," he moaned. "Yehhhhh. Oooooh, that feels good!"
I sucked him hard, but he didn't come. I was beginning to wonder why, when kapow! He unloaded right in my mouth. At that point, he moved into another world. I realized then that he had been afraid to come, although he'd wanted to. I suppose he figured I'd spit his sperm out and yell at him for doing such a nasty thing. But it had to happen, and when I stayed on him he went out of his nut. His hips jerked his prick through my mouth, and I gulped his soup like a Bowery bum. Yahhhhh, ride it honey. All the way to hell!
"Oooooooooh, yesssss," he grunted and wheezed, like an old man. I moved off him, my tits swinging like a pair of pendular pineapples. Some fruit, honey? A lovely suck of tit? Oh, God, I was crazy out of my skull. Some tit, young thing. Ooooh, yehhh. Bite the nipple, clearest. So sweet. So nice. Ummmm, and fondle my pussy while you're at it. Oooooooh, with those long, strong fingers in my cunt, way deep inside until T feel as if they're going to rip my guts out.
And then his dick is up again, and I almost cry, I'm so mad. I move onto him, worming it over him until we're at it again, him on his back, me riding that big rod like a cowgirl Hahhhhhhhhhhh, fuck you until you die teenage stud-lover, with the curly blond hair and the smooth baby skin. . . .
Well, you can see, Doc-, that I was in a state of hysteria. A kind of sexual hysteria. Weird Very scary during and after. But I can't stop it I slid into there for a few moments, lost in it I've never used drugs, not even pills. I was al ways scared of them. But this feeling, this hysterical indulgence in sex with boys, well, must be like being influenced by drugs. It's like a trip. The sun bursts, the sky falls through m brain, and this green blueness flashes across m mind, burning out my eyes. You see, it's very easy to describe it. Ever since I started making it with boys, I've wallowed in the feeling. It's almost as if I've become addicted to it, and I suppose that I have, in a sense. I can't do without them, the boys. I seduced Bobby when I was twenty-six, and for the last three years I've done very little but seek out more lovers-all boys. And then it happened. I'm so sorry it did. It mined everything. Now, I'm so afraid.
(NOTE: Although I knew what she was referring to, I could not convince her to articulate it. She seems to have lost grip on a part of her sanity, to put it bluntly. She vacillates between an almost abysmal depression and euphoric hysteria. The following text is from a subsequent session, and she describes what occurred that brought her into my care.)
I drove into one of these hot-dog stands, you know, the quick-order joints with all the souped-up hot rods out front with kids hanging all over them as if they were chrome pricks. I just wanted a bite to eat, but I started looking around and some guvs gave me a few interesting stares. I felt my pussy itch, and I gave them a little encouragement, a smile, more tit, more twitch. Finally, this beautiful young thing saunters over and asks whether I want to fuck. Well, I should have known that it was a bad scene. His cronies were giggling behind him, the girls cackling like witches. But I was stupid. I said, sure, where'll we go. He just smiled and climbed into the other side of the car.
"Pull out and turn left," he said.
Something inside me warned me to tell him to get out of the car while I still could, but I drove down the highway. We sped out of town, and he told me to pull off the road toward a large house. We were barely in the driveway when three or four carloads of them followed us in. I felt panicky, and he smiled, trying to calm me.
"Just a party," he said. "Let's go inside. Peter's parents are in Madagascar."
We went through the big door into a mansion that looked as it had been used for four wall squash. The place was a mess. I saw a young kid and a blonde curled up in a blanket by the window. The blanket was spotted wit catshit and dirt. I turned to leave, but the groupies came bursting through the door. Some guys with guitars came out of the bedrooms and the sound became a din.
"Here," my friend said. "Take a drag."
Pot fumes soon permeated the room. I could have gotten high just breathing, and I guess I did. I refused to smoke the stuff, though, but it didn't matter. I went out of my head. First, I fucked the kid; I don't even remember what his name was. We were in one of the upstairs bedrooms, and suddenly the door opens and two other boys come in. I recognized the shorter one of the guitarists, and he looked real cute, I took the two of them on. They were rough, much too high to be good lovers, and I was glad when they finished.
But then more of them came, girls, too. They held my arms down while this young girl beat me. Lord, I mean to tell you that she whipped hell out of me. And I dug it! You hear? I liked being beaten! I took anything that would fit my cunt-pricks, dildos, whatever. When I woke op, the place was deserted. I stumbled out and got a cab. I wanted to go home, but the driver took me to the hospital. They told me about you after I gave them all the details. The psychiatrist there said I was a very sick woman. Doc, am I? Really sick, I mean?
REMARKS: My answer to her question is, no. She is certainly disturbed, but her history explains much of her behavior. Her unfeeling parents simply handed her over to a man who immediately began mistreating her when she was only a teenager. She developed an intense hatred of men and so turned to boys for satisfaction. Some authorities contend that it is healthier for a woman to seek boys under such circumstances than to shut off all feelings and avoid sexual contact completely. In any case, I believe that Wilma can be rehabilitated if she continues to work as hard as she has.
PATIENT: Jenny B., thirty-seven, maid.
REMARKS: Jenny is a full-bodied woman, very attractive. Her willingness to describe her experiences as truthfully and as completely as possible was extremely heartening and made for extremely fruitful initial sessions. Her first with me is transcribed here.
JENNY: I'd like to blame my husband, Arthur, for what's happened to me, but I won't. I know that much of it is my fault, a result of my weaknesses, not just his. Arthur is my third husband. The others were better men, but I loved Arthur because he was so wild. We had such fun together, and I found excitement in life that I hadn't known existed. My parents were very dull people, stay-at-homes. They expected me to join their party, and when I refused, they forced me to remain with them.
When I was of age, I ran away from home, marrying my first husband along the way. He sold insurance, and we were comfortable for the first few months or so. He opened up the world of sex for me, and I reveled in it. But we split up, and I went with a guy who operated a carnival. I lived with him for months; then we married. After that, he showed me a new side, He was very cruel, and I had to run away from him just to stay alive. I got a job as a maid just to hide, and I met Arthur through another maid I met. We hit it off right away. He fucked hell out of me the first night, and did some things I'd never thought of doing. Like sucking my ass and fucking it between my tits.
"C'mon, my big, beautiful baby," he'd say. "Let's do something crazy-wild!"
And then we'd swing into another position, another thrill. God, he was so good! And then a few months after we'd been married, I found him in bed with a boy. The boy was on his knees, and Arthur was fucking him in the ass. I just stood there, watching, without saying a word. When I saw them, I first wanted to vomit, to bring up my insides. But as I stared at them making love, I began to get excited. The boy was so beautiful, and I did love my husband. He was a damned handsome man, with a great body. All my men and boys were well-built. Hell, I'm no skinny chicken. Why shouldn't I get the best there is? They are. Anyway, I started to rub my pussy as they went at it in front of me. Finally, the boy saw me and nearly jumped off the bed. Arthur looked at me goggle eyed, then went back to business. That was Arthur for you; pleasure before business.
"Yehhhhh," said the honey. "Oh, man, you do it gooooood . . . "
He was right; Arthur was good, damned good. When he came, the kid nearly died. Not to mention Arthur, who pounded hell out of him.
"What's the matter?" I asked him when he moved off the boy. "Don't I give it to you good enough?"
He stood up, and I glanced at his thick prick, hanging like a trunk. It was red and slick, and I wanted to suck it into my mouth. Ever since I'd left home, I'd been kind of insatiable sexually. I guess I was making up for lost time, I don't know.
(NOTE: Jenny's early life has obviously led her along an unhealthy path. By being restricted and restrained unduly by her parents, her sexual nature was frustrated and almost denied. When she leaves home, her fear of inadequacy induces her to become extremely passionate, a woman who demands sexual contact as a means of establishing her womanhood, her existence. She realizes this, but she cannot control her behavior, the impulses are so deep-grained.
She is desperate to keep Arthur as a husband, for with him she has found the only measure of happiness that she has ever enjoyed. With him, she can lie completely uninhibited, and she loves him for such freedom. Her attraction to boys stems mainly from her wish to please him, for him to approve of her.
As she said, her first reaction to the homosexual act she witnessed was nausea. Knowing that she could not react such a way in front of him, she becomes excited, letting her strong sexual impulses dominate her.)
"No, baby, it's not that you don't give it to me good enough," he said, smiling that cute, coy, hellish smile of his. "I just need a variety of things, that's all."
He caught me staring at the kid, who was sitting half-nude on the bed.
"Like him," Arthur said. "He's gorgeous, isn't he? A real beauty. Stand up, Charles. Let my momma get a good look at yon. I think she likes what she sees."
I couldn't hide my interest, and I didn't want to. My pulse began to rise, and I gawked openly at the kid's cock, which was worth gawking at.
"Did lie, uh, do it to you?" I said to Arthur. "Sure, honey."
"What was it like? I mean, did you like it?"
"Hell, baby, do you like it when I screw you in the ass? Well, it's the same thing. I dig it just fine."
And then I knew that I wanted to join them, that I wanted to be a part of their fun and games.
"Hey," I said to the kid. "You like pussy, too?"
I saw my husband grin; the kid just looked at me. I turned, and my husband unzipped my dress. I let it fall off, and the boy let his eyes get to work on me. I thought I was going to boil over. Christ, I was hot! I moved closer to him, swinging my hips to give him a little tease. I wanted him hard and ready when I took him. And I wanted to take him so bad I could almost taste it. I saw his dick jerk, as if it were coming alive under its own power. Charles was definitely interested. He may not have had any woman in the past, but he dug me. Arthur's compliance seemed to give him confidence, to rid him of his fears.
"Kiss me," I said, slipping out of my panties. "Kiss me like you do my husband."
He leaned forward hesitantly, and my heart nearly flipped. He was going to do it! I spread my legs, my finger sliding into his hair. Lord, I'll never forget that moment. He was only a kid! And he was going to eat my pussy!
"Do it!" I screeched. "Ohhh, yehhhh! Do it, Charles. Ohhhhhhh, do it!"
His tongue flicked into me, and I went off like a bomb! I squirmed on that boy's mouth until my legs were too weak to support me. He was on the floor by that point, his head tilted back, his mouth in my cunt. Ummmmm, it feels good even now! Hah! The kid was something else. Finally, I fell onto the couch, and Arthur grabbed the boy by his arm and told him to fuck me. Charles looked at him, his mouth wide open. I guess he figured that far enough is far enough, but he didn't count on my mad husband.
"Go ahead," Arthur urged. "Give her a little cock, boy. Hell, you can give her more than a little, too, what with all that meat hanging down between your legs . . . "
The boy giggled, and I spread my legs for him, and he dived into my cunt. I had to pull his face out of there before I could grab his dick and shove it into me. I looked at his clean young face and kissed him hard, feeling an enormous pressure building up inside me. He stuck his tongue into my mouth, and we Frenched like pigs. Lord, that was the end! I exploded, like over and over. I didn't even feel him come, didn't even know if he could. For me, it was exquisite, another world. I think it had something to do with the fact that he was a boy. I mean, cock is cock. It's who it's attached to that counts. And I think, I know, that Charles gave me a feeling I'd never experienced before. It was as if we were a family. A hell of a wild family, but still, mother, father, son.
"Get off her boy!" I heard Arthur snap to the boy. "Lemme have a go at her. Never seen her like this. . . "
He climbed onto me and worked his dick into my cunt. It wasn't hard. I was steaming, wet as water. It was as if he fell into the ocean. I threw my aims around his neck and kissed him hard. My legs went around his back, and we rutted like animals. And then I felt it, Charles's mouth on us. His tongue went over both of us, sucking at my pussy and at Arthur's dick until we were both on the edge of insanity.
Arthur must have fucked the boy real good before I came, because he couldn't seem to come. I mean, he was as hard as he could possibly be, huge and strong. But he was overexcited without any resources to do anything about it. Which was okay with me. I felt as though I had embarked upon an eternal fuck, a cruise that would last forever. Just screw, screw, screw, with that wonderful mouth loving us all the while. It was fantastic!
"Oh, yes!" I shouted. "Fuck me. Ohhhhh, fuck me, Arthur Oooooh, yessss, Charles. Suck my pussy, Charles. Now onto the cock. Mmmmmmm, don't you love it, dear! I'm so glad you brought him home. Oh, Arthur. I love you so much! So much!"
I was just jabbering gibberish by that point. I was out of my mind. And when my husband came, I went berserk. It was marvelous.
Really, I know it sounds funny, but I loved it. Talking about it isn't like doing it. When it's really happening, it's beyond words. Talking degrades it. When I'm caught up in it, I feel beautiful. I'm the only woman in the world, and every male is mine.
"Well, everything was wonderful for years until my husband died. Then I was left alone out on a limb. I tried to play it straight, but I couldn't. Nothing mattered, nothing gave me any pleasure. I met several men, but they were duds, fizzles. None of them could rival Arthur, or the boys I had loved. And so I went out after what I knew would satisfy me; a boy. I just roamed the street, and one day while I stood waiting for a bus to take me downtown to more fertile areas, this kid came up beside me. He was only about seventeen, maybe younger. And he was cute, too, with his bell-bottoms and turtleneck. His hair looked as if he paid five dollars to have it cut with a razor blade, and suddenly I wanted him. He was perfect.
"I was wondering how long it would be before you got here," I said to him.
His mouth fell open, and he asked me what I said.
"I've been waiting for a nice young man to come along, and you've finally arrived. That's all."
He smiled, but his eyes told me he thought I was insane. They also drifted over my body and told me they liked what they saw.
"Going downtown?" I asked.
He nodded.
"Shopping?"
"No. Gonna meet my girl.. . "
"Forget her this afternoon," I said, moving closer. "Come with me. I'll give you something she hasn't."
I know I sounded as brazen as a whore, but I learned that that was the only way to talk. You had to come on hard and fast. Otherwise, it took too long and people, bystanders, got suspicious. And boys never got subtle hints, never picked up on certain phrases. You had to offer it to them directly, and then you got action. They either refused or . . .
"You mean . . . ? " he blubbered.
"Yes, that's what I mean, honey. Don't look so surprised. I know you've seen naked-woman magazines, and you've read those sweet books about fucking. Now you've got a chance for the real thing. Interested?"
"Which way do we go?" he said.
I grinned and took his arm. This was pretty. All we had to do was walk to my apartment like mother and son, and then it would happen. I could barely breathe as we walked, I was so excited. We didn't talk; our bodies just rubbed together as we took each step, and I know damn well that he was as hot as I was. The front of his trouser showed a distinct bulge. It wouldn't have been noticeable if his bell-bottoms weren't so tight. I guess he didn't expect to be strolling around in public with a woman on his arm and a hard-on in his pants.
"Is it far?"
"No, and relax, honey. We're home free." When we got inside the house, I kissed him once, rubbing my belly over his dick, then went and poured him a drink. He said he didn't dig booze. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a joint of marijuana.
"Well, damn you," I said. "And I thought you were some naive and innocent kid."
"Not quite. And I don't think that you can give me something Ann hasn't."
"Ann?"
"My girlfriend. Waiting downtown."
I slid closer to him, crossing my legs so that my dress slid damn near into my navel. He took a good look, then reached for me. His left hand went right to my pussy, the right curled around my shoulders, and we went into a beautiful embrace. Sounds corny-romantic, eh? All right, call it a French, a soul kiss, whatever. I remember that his fingers worked my pussy into a froth, so terms don't interest me. I came a couple of times, those searing orgasms I used to have with my husband and friends. Hahh! It was a dream.
We smoked that joint and got as high as a couple of kites fluttering in the sky. Then we made it into the bedroom and had us an orgy for two. Accompanied by music that seemed to ebb through my soul. And all the while there was that lovely young cock, pistoning through my cunt, sliding between my lips, worming into my ass.
"Jesus, I never felt anything like this," he said at one point.
We were sixty-nining.
"You never met anyone like me before, baby," I said, feeling for all the world like the mother of the universe.
The next day, I went out hunting again. I got on the train downtown and didn't have any trouble locating a likely spot for finding young boys. The theatre would do just fine. It was about eight o'clock at night, and I figured that on a Friday, all the boys would be catching the show. Saturday night is date night, so I expected to see quite a few boys out on their own, foot-loose and freer than imagine.
I was right. The joint was bubbling with them. They sat in fours and fives, clustered about the orchestra and balcony. I stayed in the balcony; it was darker and the kids seemed wilder. I sat there for a while, with boys staring at me and whispering to themselves. Since no one seemed to have the courage to sit next to me, I took the initiative. I moved next to this boy with thick black hair and just stared at the screen for several minutes. I kept recrossing my legs, letting my skirt ride higher and higher to get him to notice the merchandise.
He noticed. I caught him looking at me, and he turned away back to the picture. I leaned closer, jiggling my foot so that it touched his leg. He must have been both scared and excited. I mean, suppose he was wrong and the sexy lady wasn't interested in playing footsie or anything else with him. But he overcame his fear and let his hand slide onto my thighs. It was a nice scene, the way he let it just glide onto my leg. I almost jumped through the ceiling. Kids always surprise me with their boldness as soon as their initial cautions are thrown to the wind.
"Enjoying yourself?" I asked him.
This time it was his turn to jump. His hand leapt off my leg and stayed suspended in midair, as if he were waiting for me to tell him that it was all right for him to replace it.
"Go ahead and get a feel," I said. "But not of that. Here . . . "
I grabbed his hand and slid it under my skirt. His fingers were between my legs, opposite my pussy. I had not worn panties, and I felt one of his fingers worm against my pussy.
I looked at him. His forehead glistened with sweat in the flickering light. He was staring straight ahead, as if he were in a trance. I opened my legs wider and shoved his hand right up against my cunt. He licked his lips and burrowed around like a mole. His middle finger probed, and I helped him find my slit, and in he went.
By this time, we both must've been breathing like we'd run around the block, but I didn't notice. I was way into what he was doing to me, and I decided to return the favor. The boy next to him had left, so I unzipped his fly with my left hand and gave his cock a good squeeze. His dick was like steel, and plenty big. I worked my hand inside his shorts and took the thing out.
"Oh!" he moaned. "Oh, wow!"
And then I did something that I'll always regret. It was the first incident that led me into the biggest mistake. I knelt in front of him and sucked his cock. Right in the balcony of the damn theatre! Christ, it was good, but it was too dangerous. I could end up in prison if I acted like that too often. But I enjoyed every second of it then.
His dick was lovely, nice and long. He shoved it down my throat as if he wanted to choke me. I nibbled the tip of it, and he started moaning like someone was sucking his cock. When my tongue started curling around him and sucking, he went off. I swallowed all of it, gulping it down as fast as I could. I wasn't afraid. I just wanted to take as much as I could as fast as I could. I wanted his come so badly, I felt as though I'd die if I didn't get enough. It was so hot and watery, not thick like a man's. It just poured down my throat, and I worked his hips so that he was fucking it way into my mouth, my lips sliding over him, urging as much from him as he could give.
"Ooooooooh," he groaned. 'Too much, too much . . . "
When I let him go, he just sat there dazed, slouched in the chair. I glanced around and saw that several people were staring at us suspiciously. I knew that I couldn't bring the kid with me, or someone would begin to add things up and figure out what kind of woman I was. I didn't want to be seen being too affectionate with a boy in public.
(NOTE: Here Jenny's thoughts seem to be somewhat disjointed. When she picked up the boy at the bus stop, she walked him to her home arm in arm, imagining that he was her son. Yet she must have realized that her neighbors knew she had no son, that she must be returning with a stranger or young friend. In the theater, however, she is afraid to be seen with a boy. Her behavior seems to have developed a sense of paranoia. She feels that someone must lie witnessing her acts, must know, as she puis it, "what kind of a woman I was." She feels extremely guilty about her affairs with boys, and this is a healthy, even with its attendant ills, such as paranoia. A part of her psyche is aware of the strangeness of her behavior, and it is this part a therapist feeds and enlarges, until the patient is generally healthy and fit to function in society.)
I strolled along the street, feeling good but feeling hot. I wanted to be fucked, and it hadn't happened yet, not that night, at least. So I went into this pizza joint and took a table near this young guy. I wasn't sure how old he was. He told me later he was only sixteen, but he looked older. He gave me the eye right off, and I let him know that I appreciated his stare. He got very excited, sitting there trying to eat his pizza and enjoy my body without attracting attention. Soon he was staring openly, his meal finished. I was gnawing on a slice, and I put it down and walked outside. He waited a moment, then went out after me, following me like a puppy.
"Got a match?" I asked him, turning at the corner to give him as sultry a look as I could summon. I wanted him to dig the whole scene quick. Yes, my gaze said, I'm yours for the taking. I'm a goddamn walking cunt. If you've got a dick and a mouth you will do nicely, satisfactorily at the least. Fuck me. Fuck me. I wanted to wear a neon sign on the side of my head: I LOVE COCK. I WILL SUCK ANY BOY IF HE FUCKS ME. That would've put me in business.
"Which way you going?" the kid, looking cool and trying to act it.
"Same way you are," I said.
"I'm going home. My brother's there, though."
"Good. We'll have a party."
I took his arm, and we grabbed a taxi. I paid the fare, and we took the elevator to the kid's penthouse. Well, it wasn't that good, but it was awfully expensive. Mommy and Daddy must've left for a vacation. I didn't ask. I figured he'd never bring me home with him if there were any chance of being discovered. His name was Jerry, and his brother was Mark. Mark was the better-looking, and we had a grand party. I drank most of his parents' booze, with help from my associates.
When we were all stewed, I began to strip. They sat on the sofa hooting like a couple of burlesque patrons. I wanted to ask them for their tickets. When I was down to my bra and panties, they had grown serious. They sat staring at me, and I knew that I had entranced them. I peeled the bra off, and their eyes grew so large, I thought they were gonna fill the room. I suppose I was a bit of marvel to them. I mean, they didn't expect to see a stripper working in their living room that night.
One of them, Jerry I think it was, got to his feet and came toward me. He went to his knees and his hands starting pulling at my panties. I lifted my leg and rested my foot on his shoulder. He had a clear view of my cunt, except for the fact that my panties were providing a slight obstruction. I smiled at Mark, who had his dick out, jerking his hand over it. I was afraid he would let it shoot.
"Take 'em off me," I said to his brother. "Take my panties off, honey. And then kiss my cunt. . . "
Mark lost control at that point. His dick spurted semen, and it fell onto the carpet, jets of it squirting across the room. I almost laughed, he looked so funny sitting there firing spurts of come at me. Lord, he looked silly. I wondered whether he'd be able to make love to a woman. I imagined he was impostent.
"Oh, God, I don't believe it. Mark, look at her," Jerry said.
I was nude now, and the boy was running his hands over my legs, his eyes wide open beneath me.
"Kiss me," I said, opening my legs so that he'd know what I wanted.
"Yes," he gasped. "All right. Mmmmmm . . . "
Something went off inside my head, and I perched myself on his tongue and took a ride. I slid to the floor after a couple of minutes, and he went after me like a cannibal.
"Mark!" I said. "Get over here and take your clothes off."
He stood up, his dick hanging limp out of his fly.
"C'mon!" I ordered. "Do it. Hurry up!"
He shucked off his pants and shirt, and he was naked, his prick swelling as he looked down at his brother eating my pussy.
"Put your prick in my mouth," I hissed. "Just stick it in there and keep it there. I'll suck you until you'll be afraid to come."
I helped him get into position, then sucked that candy like a child. He wasn't very big, but it didn't matter much. It was dick, and that's all I wanted. I wasn't going to be fussy about size when I was being treated like an angel by the boys.
"I wanna fuck you," I heard Jerry demand. "Hey, c'mon . . . "
I shoved Mark off and slapped his brother. The kid jerked back as if he'd been shot.
"You do what I want you to do," I said, trying to sound as stern as possible. "Lay down on your back. I'll give you what you're after."
I top rode the kid, while his brother worked his dick into my mouth. Mark kept grunting that he was going to fall, and when I sucked the come out of him, he did. But not before he'd unloaded everything he had. I was surprised that so much jism came out of him the second time. I knew that he'd be good for a third before I left. As for Jerry, he was too busy enjoying my cunt riding his dick to worry about getting it up later.
"I want you to come now," I said to him. "Just like when you jerk off."
I guess the kid had more experience than I realized, 'cause he told me that he wasn't ready yet.
"I said I wanted it now!" I shouted, bouncing off his belly, his dick driving through me.
I contracted my muscles, tightened my grip on his dick just by drawing in a deep breath, then pushing hard, but not letting the air escape. He moaned and thrashed around as if he were hurting. And then I felt him shudder, and I knew that it was coming. He yelled, grabbed my tits and kneaded them as if they were made of some indestructible material that he was testing. Lord, but my tits hurt later. At the time, though, it felt as though he were giving me a tender but firm squeeze, and I loved it.
I went off a couple of times after he had finished. I wouldn't let go of his dick. It was deflating like a runaway balloon, but I could still feel him inside me, and by squirming just right, I could work myself into a climax.
"What the hell is this?"
That's really all I remember after that. The voice belonged to the boys' father, and I was finished playing games with the boys. They were going to send me to a psychiatrist, but when I tried to kill myself with that wire, they sent me to you. I'm out on bail next week. I guess they wanted to make sure you could control me.
REMARKS: I am not worried about "controlling" Jenny, as she puts it. I think that she can take care of herself better than she believes. She is extremely avid in her hunger to regain her normalcy. With intensive therapy, I think that she can become a complete woman before she is too old to adapt.
PATIENT: Jack M., forty-two, salesman.
REMARKS: A distinguished-looking man with graying hair and a trim physique, Jack was eager to enter therapy. His first session was very productive, and a transcript of it follows.
JACK: I don't like the idea, but I think I've always had a severe personality defect. None of my customers would think so. I'm a hell of a salesman, and everybody believes that I'm just a good-time Jack, with no troubles, no problems. The first time I was ever laid, I was eighteen. I guess that's where the difficulties really took flight. You see, I had sex with a forty-two-year-old woman. I didn't have much experience with girls, and that's what led to my messing around with a woman.
She was a friend of the family, one of our host. Her husband was a business partner of my father's, and they got along just fine. We were out at the beach one summer day, just relaxing and swimming. It was about noon, and everyone had gone back to the house to eat except me and Mrs. Johns. I sat on the blanket next to her, staring out at the sea. It was very peaceful, but my blood was pounding like mad. The reason was Mrs. Johns. She was the sexiest woman I have ever in my life seen, and my dick was stiff inside my trunks. I couldn't keep from glancing at her, without being noticed.
She lay on her back, those fantastic tits jutting out of her chest. Lord, I could see most of them. The bikini she wore was as tiny as law would allow. I always wondered why her husband allowed her to wear such skimpy clothes. I knew that if I had something like her as mine, I'd keep her locked up in the house. Then her voice shocked me out of my revelry.
"Everybody go up?" she asked.
"Uh, yeh. They did. About twenty minutes ago."
"You want to eat?"
"No," I said. "Not particularly."
"Good, neither do I. What do you want to do?"
"Ma'am?"
"I asked you what you wanted to do. There must be something you'd like. . . . "
Her questions puzzled me. It was almost as if she were giving me the come-on, but my young head told me that that was impossible. Why in the world would Mrs. Johns want to play around with me? I mean, I was fairly good-looking, but I was still a boy. She was a woman, a damned glamorous woman, too. She could have any man she wanted, and I guessed that her marriage gave her that liberty. She and her husband always seemed cool to each other, although they'd been married for years and years. Maybe in the beginning he did try to keep her hid inside the house, like I would have.
"You mean a boy your age can't think of anything in the world he'd like?" she asked me. "What about girls? Wouldn't you like your girlfriend to be here?"
"I.. . I haven't got one."
She stared at me, then let her lips curl up in a smile. I think my blush showed right through my tan.
"Oh, I don't believe you. A handsome young man like you?" What can you say to something like that? "Yeh," I said.
"You mean you never . . . ? "
"Well, I've been out with girls on occasion."
"On occasion?"
Her line of questioning was beginning to bug me. Who the hell did she think she was anyway, Mother Confessor?
"Look, Mrs. Johns. I don't have a girlfriend.
I'm scared of girls. Can we drop the subject now?"
She gave me this solemn look, then slid closer. I thought my prick was going to bore a hole in my trunks. I flashed a peep at her body, and I found that I could see the nipples of her tits as they swung forward in that measly bikini. Her jugs were enormous. I wanted to take one and shove it into my mouth, like a piece of fruit. Jesus, I got awfully horny sitting next to that bitch!
"Why are you afraid of girls, Jack?" she said in this real sympathetic voice. "Is it. . . sex?"
"Well, I guess so," I replied.
I was too nervous to tell her that it wasn't really any of her business. I wanted to keep her attention, so that I could get an eyeful of that overdeveloped body of hers. She'd had a couple kids, but it hadn't hurt her any. In fact, she seemed to become fuller, more voluptuous and sexy. She was incredible, with bleached blonde hair, the kind that makes your cock jerk. Mmmmm, she was absolutely enticing, irresistible.
"What is it about sex that scares you, Jack? You can tell me. I feel like I'm part of your family, we've become such good friends. And I like you a lot, Jack. I think you're lovely, and I want you to talk to me about whatever problems you have, if you want to. I'd like to hear anything you have to say."
No one had ever called me lovely before. I would have cracked anybody but her for saying it. But coming from her, it .seemed like a compliment, a real nice one. It made me feel sexy, relaxed, manly, a whole lot of things. All of a sudden, I wasn't scared of her. She was interested in me, not simply vice-versa. I got real cocky, moving near to her, so that our arms touched as we talked.
"I have a funny feeling about girls," I said, stumbling for words. "I mean, I'm kinda scared of them, 'cause I'm afraid they'll mock me and hurt me if I'm not good in bed. But I feel that I could be good in bed, real good, if I found the right girl. So far, I haven't had the guts to take a chance on one and see what happened. But I'm no recluse. I'm looking.. . . "
"What kind of girls do you like? I mean, what would they look like? Would they be model types, frail and thin, or would they be like me?"
She laughed, low and teasing. I let my eyes drift over her, and the air seemed so close, I thought I'd choke. I could hardly breathe, I was so excited.
I let out the rope. "Just like you," I said, barely able to hear my own voice. "You're . . . perfect."
She gazed at me, her mouth straight, and for a second I thought she might be angry, affronted.
"Do you like me very much?"' she asked.
I don't know why she asked; I'd just told her I thought she was perfect. I suppose she was a bit nervous, too. I mean, after all, I was only a teenager and I was too close to home, as they say.
"I think you're fabulous," I blurted. "The sexiest woman I ever saw."
I reached for her, and she eased against me. Lord, I almost came on the spot. And when I kissed her, I did. Her tongue slid into my mouth, driving through my lips. I sucked at it, and she pressed close, her tits flattening against my chest. She started to squirm, and I shot it off. I pushed her back on the blanket and moved atop her. I didn't know what I was doing. Whatever came into my mind, I acted on it.
"Oh, yessss, Jack," she moaned, gripping my ass with her long, strong fingers. "Ohhhh, Jack!"
I didn't realize it, but she was coming, too. We were both at a fever pitch.
"Take your suit off," she said. "Hurry, Jack. They'll be coming back any minute.. . . "
I glanced toward the house and saw no one. When I turned back to her, her tits were bare, the bikini top laying in the sand next to her. My eyes must've opened as wide as could be, 'cause she laughed and palmed one of those luscious boobs in each hand.
"Never seen a woman's breasts before?" she asked, and the teasing tone of her voice made my dick swell even more.
"No," I said. "Never."
"In that case, why don't you kiss them?" she said.
I leaned forward, my brain tumbling around inside my head like a beach ball. I saw myself diving at her tits, and I couldn't believe my eyes. Then my mouth was closing over a nipple, my lips sucking the meat of her tit as far into my mouth as it would go, and I believed! Lord, did I believe! She shoved her hands in my hair and worked my mouth from one boob to the other.
"That's right, suck it nice for me, honey," she mewed. "Ooooooh, so nice . . . "
I felt her finger begin prying my trunks free, and I got off her. I knew what I wanted by then. I wanted to fuck this woman. I wanted it so bad I would have raped her and paid the consequences gratefully. I got up and shoved the bathing suit down my legs. My dick popped free, all six inches of it. She got to her knees, and I thought she was going to get up and take off her bikini bottom. But she slid her arms around my legs and gobbled up my prick as if it were candy.
I stood there, the sun blazing into my eyes, setting my head afire no matter how hard I tried to keep my eyes closed tight. The rays were incredibly bright, and it felt as though they were drilling into my forehead, into my frontal lobes. I felt myself spin, and then I came. Her mouth seemed capable of swallowing me whole. And whenever I started to pitch forward, she'd steady me. She was voracious, and she sucked me dry. I looked down at her, at her big, brown body with its swathes of white, and felt a few more drops of juice pump into her mouth. Then we both toppled to the blanket.
"Like it?" she giggled.
"Like it! I loved it!"
"Good. Then do it to me."
Her panties seemed to dissolve from her bodv, and I was looking straight into a gorgeous snatch. I didn't know exactly what to do, but I had a pretty good idea. So I put my head down there and went to work. She seemed to like it just fine, bouncing all over that blanket. The blanket was very soft, and my dick rubbing against it while I ate bitch's pussy helped me get another hard-on.
"Yessss, I'm coming," she moaned. "Oooo-oooohhhh . . . "
Her hips shook real fast, and I burrowed in as far as I could go. My tongue was up her vagina, and I could taste her juice, nice and sweet.
"Oil Jack! Oh Jack!"
I looked up at her and saw her tits rising and falling, her mouth slack as she twisted and squirmed. It was too much. I felt that if I didn't fuck her right then, I never would. I pulled my face from between her hot thighs and clambered on top of her. I didn't know how the hell to get it in, and I just jabbed in the dark. I didn't expect her to help me; that would have been embarrassing. But when she did, I had no time for embarrassment. I was in her, up to the hilt! And then her hips twitched, and we were fucking happily. It felt as though I had shoved my dick into the oven. She was hot and wet. I thought I was swimming in her pussy, just tumbling through her cunt juice; steaming wet, warm and viscous.
"Oooooh, baby," she murmured. "You lied to me. I know you've done it before . .
"Yeh, in my dreams," I gasped. "But to you . . . "
That must've turned her on even more, 'cause she threw those big, brown legs around my back and started pumping like the devil.
"Hold it back," she grunted. "Don't come. Make it last. . . . "
That seemed like a pretty good idea. But I didn't know how to go about it. Then I thought of her husband up in the house. And my parents. That caused the desired effect. Then I went too far. I looked up toward the house. Hubby was standing on the porch, rubbing his belly and looking out at the sea.
Visions of a bloody death appeared before my very eyes. We were off to the right, and I waited for him to swing his gaze around and see us. My prick started to go limp, and I heard Valerie, Mrs. Johns, ask me what was the matter.
And then my father came out on the porch, chattering about something, and Mr. Johns didn't look over at us. And suddenly, I was glad he was in sight. It was dangerous, but it made it all the more fun. It tickled me to think that I was fucking his incredible wife while he was within spitting distance. Christ, I wish he had seen us! With her legs coiled around me and my dick jammed into her pussy! Hah! That would have been something! And my old man, he would have dropped face down into the sand. His mind would've snapped. They, my parents, were always telling people what a nice boy I was.
Yehhhhh! Nicer than nice! That was me. Mr. Nice. Well, I had my nice cock in her nice twat, and I was loving every second of it.
"Let's turn over," she said suddenly. "Let's change position."
Wow! We flipped over, or at least she did, and I jammed it in her from behind, with all the power I could muster. It went straight into her cunt, and sin; looked up and saw her husband. Her reaction was the same as mine, initially, but after I held on to her legs and kept fucking my dick into her, she began to get the same kind of thrill.
We could both see him now, and it made for the greatest first fuck any kid ever experienced. Her husband wasn't a bad-looking guy, and the whole scene turned me on. Too bad they don't have a daughter, it occurred to me, or we all might have a hell of a lot of fun. The bastard could screw his sweet daughter, while I balled his wife. I wouldn't want to switch; I'd keep the juicy pussy, and he'd have to content himself with the young stuff. Hah! It still tickles me.
"You see him?" Valerie asked. "Been watching him for hours, the poor slob!"
She giggled, and I gave her a little extra bounce.
"I don't think he'd do anything even if he saw us," she said. "He's a born loser. He knows I luck with anything that fits. If he spotted us, he might sneak over to catch a peek. But that's all. Ahhhhhh, yesssss. Oh, baby . . . "
I was going out of my mind by that point. I had a firm grip on that monstrous tit of hers, and I was pumping my prick into her as hard as I could. When it fell out, she grabbed it and stuffed it back in quick as a jiffy. We lost about three and a half fucks, but we didn't notice it. The sun was beating down on our backs, and we were working hard, staring at her husband and my father talking like a couple of magpies over only god knows what, screwing ourselves into the goddamn ground, moaning and groaning as if we were giving a concert. Hell, we were crazy.
"Now, now!" she yelped. "Do it now . . . gahhhhhh!"
She sounded as if I'd stabbed her, and I guess I sounded much the same. I let it fly, and she hopped on the wagon and went right with me. We went through the sky, sobbing as if we hated it like shit. Her tits and pussy were sore as hell afterward, and my dick felt as though it had been beaten in an erect state with a piece of pipe. Damn, but we fucked!
"Never had anything like that!" she panted when we were done. "Never . . . "
I didn't say anything of that sort, since that was my first time. But I mumbled something about heaven, you know, romantic stud. I wanted to make sure I saw her again, so I told her as many sweet things as I could think of. I made her feel like she brought me to life, and in a way, she did. I was dead up to that time, spiritually, at least. She awakened my soul, blew some fresh air into my musty cranium. I came alive with that woman. I saw her again and again, and each time it was good, almost as good as it was on the beach. And then I began to realize that the scene with her husband had been a once-in-a-lifetime experience. When couldn't duplicate it with her, I turned to other women. That's when I started to go a bit far out.
(NOTE: Jack's descriptions of his parent his father especially, are not flattering; he seems to despise them, and this brings a desperate loneliness to his life. His social backwardness and naivet� keep him from girls his own age.)
When Mrs. Valerie Johns steps into his life he is ripe for seduction. He believes she brought him to life, as he puts it, but he does not realize that it is not her but his own awakened sexuality that infuses his life with feeling. This mistake causes him to depend on her on the kind of experience he enjoys with he for happiness. He needs mature women to fulfill himself sexually and as a man. Yet he is not a man; he merely postures as one, avoiding the real issues that determine manhood.
Seeking to rediscover the ecstasy of his first experience with Mrs. Johns, the agonizingly delicious moment of awakening, he turns to other mature women. He is caught up in a nasty pattern of behavior, which he cannot control.
The first broad I made after Mrs. Johns was a Chinese chick. Usually, her husband worked at their little laundry, but on several occasions, she was there alone. She was really gorgeous, stacked like the proverbial brick shithouse; thick legs, big tits, and a cock-teasing face, real exotic. On this one day, I became a little bolder. After she marked my shirts, I leaned on the counter and tried a little small talk, making it perfectly obvious that I wanted badly to fuck her body.
I had balls in those days. I figured she'd turn me down outright if she didn't like my being familiar, but she didn't. When she smiled at me as I stretched my neck to get a good look at those juicy thighs of hers, I knew I was going to score. She was about thirty-five or so, with a couple of kids screaming in the back room. I wanted to fuck her right on the goddamn counter, I was so horny.
I glanced toward the rear rooms, then grinned at her, letting my eyes sweep in all that lustiness under her dress. "Listen, why don't we have a cup of tea or something?" I said. "I'm getting tired standing here blowing the bull."
She stood up, running a hand through her hair, her tits rising up, almost out of her dress. I could see that she wasn't wearing a bra. She didn't need one, either. Nice and firm, very chewable.
"You want tea, eh?" she smiled. "Okay, Jack, I give you tea."
We strolled into the back room, and I nearly shit in my pants when I saw her grandfather sitting there. She said something to him in a language that I did not know, and the old man got up and went out to the counter, leaving her with a very disapproving look.
"Think he'll tell your husband?" I asked.
"No, he's just jealous."
"Jealous?"
"Mmmmmmm. I give him some every once in a while."
"That old guy!"
"Yes. But he's not old. He's only fifty. And he still has a lot of it left."
"But why you."
"He likes me."
She turned and started to unbutton her dress, and in a few moments I could see plainly why the old man preferred fucking his daughter. With a cunt like that so close, why go out on the streets hunting? Her tits were exquisite, large and bouncy, a lot of heft. She pushed that dress right down her legs and stepped out of it, completely nude. A pleasant surprise.
"I wish you were my daughter," I said. "I wouldn't mind being fifty."
"Why do you say that?" she grinned. "I'm to give you more than I give him."
Well, I didn't waste any more time talking. I just hopped out of my clothes and tumbled onto the bed with her. It was enormous, a mile-wide mattress, and the first thing she did was swing into the sixty-nine position. We sucked each other until we could barely move our jaws, and then she was mad enough to think that I was going to be able to fuck her.
"Baby, I ain't got any left," I said.
She moved that sweet softness onto me, working at my dick with her hands while I tried to rip her tits free of her chest. Pretty soon, I was feeling chipper, and she was laughing like a hyena, stroking my dick as if it were a pet. Her hair was black and long, and it swirled about that beautiful Oriental face like the wind.
Finally, she flopped onto her back, and we assumed the most popular and widely practiced of all the positions. Man on top, pussy on bottom. And then it happened. The old man is standing in the doorway, watching his daughter being fucked by a stranger, a man off the streets. And I went batty again, just like I did with Mrs. Johns, lovely Valerie.
"Your grandfather," I managed to murmur. "He's watching . . . "
"Yes, I know," she giggled. "I've been waiting for him. He always does it. He likes it. He's in a rage, but he can't bring himself to ignore us. I like it.. . "
"So do I, honey," I grunted, pumping my prick through her. "So do I.. . "
We came together, and again I experienced that insane explosion, the tearing, ripping orgasm that I had shared with Valerie. The fan was blowing right on us, just as the sun had blazed down on us, and when I regained my sanity, I could feel the breeze curl around my body, lick at the sweat that was oozing from me.
I looked down at her and saw that she was a mess, her hair soaked, her face flushed and mirroring her exhaustion.
After that, I made quite a few visits to their little back room. We brought the old man into the act, too, making him jerk off as we screwed, his come falling all over us as we shot each other into the sky. It was mad, totally mad. But I had to have it. And soon I became bored with her, as I had with Valerie. That's when I really knew, deep down, that my brain was somewhat . . . damaged, shall we say?
(NOTE: Through all of his tribulations, then, Jack is aware that his behavior is abnormal. There is a small part of his psyche that keeps him level, prevents him from slipping over the edge of neurosis into psychosis and seriously aberrant behavior. Such self-knowledge will aid him in changing his attitudes and then his actions.)
I went after so many women after that, I don't even want to talk about it. Nothing was forbidden in my mind; whipping, transvestism, the whole scene. And then I found that I had come full circle; I was thirty, and mature women no longer interested me. Hell, I was supposed to be mature, wasn't I? That meant the women I wanted were like me, which wasn't what I was after at all. So I took what I considered to be a novel approach to the problem; I went after girls. Do you believe it, Doc? You should, you know; it's the truth, the sordid truth, I think they call it.
(NOTE: As Jack notes, he has come the full circle. Because sex was experienced not in a normal manner but in a strange, aberrant manner, he is not capable of dealing healthily with a crisis in his sexual life. Instead of attempting to develop a new attitude, he turns to another form of sexual oddity, seducing young girls. He is attempting to reverse the relationship he has had with females all his life, hoping that it will produce the same exhilaration.)
The first girl I met nearly got me arrested, screaming when I tried to put my hands on her. We were in the doorway of an apartment, hardly a well-concealed spot, and I beat it out of there in a hurry. It was then that I realized I was on a bad road, real bad. But I couldn't turn off it, no matter bow hard I tried. I hadn't met you then, of course, and I thought psychotherapy was a joke, what cartoonists used as material for belly laughs. So I continued, plodding along the same path, insane. I met a girl in a little luncheonette one day, and she returned my conversation. We hit it off nicely, and I took her home. I put a few records on the turntable and poured two long drinks. She guzzled hers like it was soda, then flopped into my lap. I kissed her hard, not believing she was so hot for me. What luck! I thought. A bull's-eye on the second try!
"We gonna do it?" she asked me, her breath hot against my cheek. "Are we?"
I knew she was drunk, but I also knew that she was experienced. She obviously wanted to revisit a familiar spot.
"Yehhh, honey," I said, nibbling at her ear. "We're gonna do it. Hard. Nice and hard."
I sounded like some sort of masher, I suppose. But I wanted to impress her, to scare her a little too. I mean, I was scared when I fucked around with women as a kid. But this girl didn't get the message. She was giggling as if she'd come across the world's most hilarious one-liner. Her blouse was nearly off, and my face was between her tits, my hands fumbling with her bra.
"You're so cute!" she squealed. "With such a cute apartment. I'm so happy I let you pick me up. Otherwise, it would've been back to Judy . . . "
I asked her who Judy was.
"My roommate," she said. "She's got a very talented tongue. It does groovy things to my clit."
I couldn't believe my ears. This kid was as knowledgeable as a whore. It pissed me off. I shoved her on the floor and took off my belt. All of a sudden, I hated her. I wanted to kill her, to hear her screaming at the top of her shrill voice. I beat hell out of her, and she responded satisfactorily. Christ, she yelled like a banshee, and I didn't realize it. When a neighbor knocked on the door, heavy, the kid scampered to her feet and rushed toward him. I couldn't move; I was paralyzed, with fear, I suppose. I could have stopped her, prevented her from escaping or warning my neighbor. But I didn't want to, really. I was glad it was over. Finished, finally. The cops came and beat the shit out of me. Yeh, it's true. One of them had seen the girl, and he told me he had a daughter that looked just like her. Then he took out a long piece of rubber and wrapped it in a rag. Then he beat crap out of me, while the other bastard held me. I suppose I deserved it, but they shouldn't have done it. They're as sick as I am.
REMARKS: Jack's complaint has been lodged with the proper authorities and might have some effect on the outcome of his trial. At any rate, he will continue in therapy. His attitude is encouraging, as I have noted, and I see no obstacle in his path toward a healthy existence.
PATIENT: Rose L., fifty-two, widowed.
REMARKS: Extremely good-looking for her age, with the appearance and figure of a woman in her late thirties, Rose voluntarily consulted me about her problems. Although embarrassed in the first few sessions, she was finally persuaded to articulate her feelings without any fears of a negative reaction from me. The following text is of her fourth session, which she vigorously dived into, shedding many of her inhibitions.
ROSE: All right, you asked for it. I made up my mind last night that I was going to lay it on the table, quit fooling around. Last night I was with another boy. It was after we had made it that I realized I had to come in here and bare my soul.
Sounds like Elmer Gantry jargon, eh? Well, I was scared last night, scared into what I'm doing now. I mentioned that I had had my first boy a few weeks after my husband died.
My husband was a bastard, a perfectly dishonorable man. I knew it, and I put up with him for twenty-five years. But when he died, I realized what a fool I'd been. I'd let him play around with our money and with women all that time, while I sat fuming, eating my heart out for some good times of my own. Well, I got them. I had one of them last night. Until I got scared about it. Until I realized that maybe I was crazy.
Anyway, when Len died, I stayed at home for a while. He left a lot of money and stocks, so I didn't have to worry about starving. I could pay the rent, buy clothes, do anything I wanted, almost. I started to get itchy. I wanted a man, a cock inside me. It had been too long. And then I didn't want a man; I was sick of men. Why did I want a man, when, most likely, he'd be just like my husband was? So I took long walks and cold showers, and then I saw Tom.
He worked at the supermarket around the comer, and the first day on the job he gave me one of the frankest stares I've ever seen come my way. I blushed and wondered what was wrong with me. The next day, I dressed up in my sexiest clothes and paid the market another visit. This time he looked at me even harder. I returned the gaze, and he blushed! He was so young, so adorable. I fell in love with him immediately. I had to have him. He was handsome, with a really fine body, a man's body on a boy. I wondered whether he was carrying a man-sized dick. I'd find out, I knew. I had to.
(NOTE: Rose's loneliness clearly overwhelms her in this situation. The years of un-happiness with her husband have produced strong frustrations, and in order to satisfy her impulses she turns to a boy, not a man. A man would pose a threat, create a sense of danger. Rose would feel that she would be hurt, inevitably. But with a boy, she feels as though she can control the situation. A boy poses no threat, and so she sets about seducing one.)
"Hello," I said to him, walking right up to him.
He stared at me and sputtered hello. I felt so hot, I almost kissed him right there in the store. "You're new here, aren't you?" I said. "Yeh, This is my second day."
"I know. I've been waiting patiently."
"Waiting?"
"Didn't Johnny tell you."
"Who's Johnny?"
"The boy who preceded you on this job. You mean he didn't get a chance to talk to you about me?"
He gave me the blankest look I'd ever seen.
"I'm Rose," I said, smiling at him. "Johnny and I were close friends. Before him, there was Peter. Now there's you. I live around the comer, at 112. Ring 2-B when you're finished work today. I'll let you in . . . "
I turned and walked away from him. Didn't even look back, although I must say I fought temptation. I was dying to sec the look on his face. I went home and showered. If he showed, he'd arrive in an hour. I took a most exquisite pleasure making myself perfect for him.
"I was ready at five, but he didn't show up. Another fifteen minutes. A half hour. And then the buzzer sounded, and I almost jumped out of my chair. Lord, he was here! I went to the door and opened it. For a moment, I was afraid it was someone else, a delivery boy, and I'd be disappointed.
"Hello again," he said, looting like a million dollars out from behind the grocery apron.
"Hello, hello," I murmured.
We went into the living room, and he sat on the sofa and took a good look at me. I nearly shuddered, it was so frank. He was obviously tuned in to the message I tried to give him in the store. He seemed ready for business. I decided to play with him a little bit. I fixed him a drink, as strong as I could make it, then sat next to him, letting my gown slide open as I sipped.
His eyes went to mine, then down to my legs. He stopped drinking, and it was almost funny, the way he sat there and stared at my legs, his glass poised at his lips as if he were a wax statue.
"Drink up," I said, and he gulped the remainder of his drink.
I thought he was going to throw a coughing fit, but he swallowed the pain and set the glass down, all the better to appraise me. Was I kidding, toying with him? Or was I serious? Did I really want him to fuck me? Should he try it? Would she call the police or do something equally freaky, as he would say? He seemed to back away from a decision, so I gave him a little impetus.
"I was hoping Johnny had told you about me," I said, getting to my feet, my tits nearly flopping out of gown, "so there wouldn't be this uncertainty."
I heard him get up, and I turned around. His arms went around my waist, his hands sliding over my ass. And then we were kissing, long and hot, our tongues twining about each other like snakes. I rubbed my belly over his cock and found what I'd been looking for; his prick was like a piece of wood. Hard and long.
"Why don't we go lie down somewhere, honey?" I said to him.
I pulled away and took him by the hand, leading him through the hallway and into the bedroom. Then I turned and let him get back to business. He ran his hands over my tits, squeezing the fullness, and I tried to make him come by rubbing myself against him. It was delicious, kissing him like that in my dead husband's bedroom, ready to fuck his dick into my pussy in daddy's onetime bed. I let him take my gown off, then shoved him to his knees, telling him to remove my panties. He peeled them down my legs, and I kicked them off.
"Just a minute," I said, holding him by the shoulders to keep him down there. "I want you to kiss me again."
I twined my fingers in his long hair and pulled his mouth to my pussy. He resisted slightly, but he had no chance of escaping that job. Not at that point, anyway. I was too intent on feeling his tongue inside my cunt to allow him to resist. But his mouth went on me and started to suck hard, and I knew that I wouldn't have to worry about him refusing anything. He bent his head a little, and his tongue went right into my vagina. I spread my legs, and he wormed it in a little further. I stood there, with my hands on my hips, coming like blazes as this kid sucked my pussy.
"Oooooooh, eat me," I moaned. "Ummm, eat that pussy, honey. Eat it, baby. Eat it, ahhhh. Oh, that's so good! So good! Oh yes, right there! Harder, harder. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, oh, I'm gonna faint. Eeeeeeee, yesssssssssss . . . "
My husband used to eat me, when we were first married. But he never sucked it out of me like Ronnie. I found out later what his name was. Didn't need to use it until then. Well, we finally made it into bed. When he nibbed that beautiful nude body against mine, I started to come all over again.
That was another thing. I'd never come so much before in my life, and we hadn't even fucked yet. I enjoyed the sex I had with my husband, however little of it there was. But with this boy, the pleasure was nearly tripled, it seemed. I was floating, drifting through some far-off, cotton-candy place, just the two of us falling through some liquid warmth, our bodies sliding together, soft velvet. Ummmmmm, I get hot just thinking about that day.
"Let me . . . fuck you!" he gasped. "I want to.. . "
He didn't have to finish what he was about to say. I spread my legs and took his dick, guiding it into me with the greatest of ease. I nearly died when I felt how big he was. I hadn't really expected him to have a man-sized dick, and when I felt him plunge into me, my brain exploded through the sky. He was strong, and he shoved his hands under my ass and screwed me good, just fine, if you please. His dick would fill me until I thought I'd burst, and then he'd slide it out to the tip, his body shuddering, then jam it back into me, my tits flattening against Iris chest as he fucked it into me.
"Gonna . . . gonna come!" he gasped, and I jerked my hips up at him.
"Ooooooo, vehhhhhhh," he rasped. Ooooo-ooooh ijvhhhhhhhh . . . "
When he came, I went crazy. I don't remember what happened, except that for a few moments, I was out of this world. Later, he showed me the scratches my nails had caused in his back. I must have turned animal, for the first time in my life. He was no virgin; he'd made a couple girlfriends at parties. But he said that it was nothing comparable to the lovemaking we'd enjoyed.
I saw him several times after that, but then I got an urge for another boy, another young lover. I guess I was making up for lost time, fucking around with anybody I wanted to, like I used to want to do.
The next one was Billy. I met him in a luncheonette during a recess in school. It was very crowded, and we were bundled in at the same table, him opposite me. I was wearing a dress with a plunging neckline, very plunging, and he couldn't keep his eyes off me. I stretched my leg out and brushed his. He pulled it back and gave me a quick glance. I let my eyes meet his, giving him a bit of smile. Then I slid my leg against his again. He didn't pull back this time. I rubbed against him, caressing his leg with mine, and he responded, lifting his foot to touch me. We looked at each other, and this time I didn't smile. My expression should have meant one thing to him-pussy!
"Would you hand me my coat, please?" I said as I got up.
He reached in back of him, taking it off the coat rack.
"And yours?" I said.
He looked at me, and I gave him a wink, flashing my eves toward the door. He staggered up and put his coat on, following me out. He was better-looking than Ronnie, and that's saying a lot. I didn't want to waste my time with plain-looking boys, when the handsome ones were so eager to get at me. Once I realized that every boy secretly wants to make it with a woman, I knew I could take my pick of the crop. Billy was just fine.
"Ma'am?" he said.
"Don't bother talking," I said. "Just let's go . . . "
He came up alongside me, and I smiled, letting my coat fall open so he could get a full view of what I was offering him. He didn't say anything after that. We just went straight to my place. Inside, I fixed him a drink, a big one, as I had Ronnie. He gulped it down, and we were both high. I slid next to him, and he grabbed me.
I decided I wouldn't bother taking this one into the bedroom; we'd make it right there on the floor! His fingers fiddled with the catch of my dress, and I giggled, feeling like a temptress. Lord, but I was feeling good! He finally undid my dress, pulling it down my body. He undressed me so beautifully, kissing me all over and setting me afire as if he'd doused me with gasoline and set a match to me. Then he jumped out of his pants, and off to the races we went.
Down on the floor, wriggling around like a couple of eels. And then he was in me, his prick deep inside my pussy. I shrieked like I was possessed. I scared him a little, I think, because he slowed up for a moment. But I threw my legs around him, and we screwed merrily. I had three or four orgasms before he had his, and then we both took off. It was just like it had been with Ronnie, a lovely thing. I wanted to live forever at that point. I was angry that I was fifty-two; I wanted to be young again. How's that for melodrama, Doctor? I want to be young again! Ha, ha! Too bad it's the truth. Then again, it isn't. I don't think I was ever young, not until I met Ronnie and Billy. Then I became young, for the first time, spiritually.
"Billy!" I said. "Oh, Billy! I'm gonna make you feel so fine . .
I turned him over on his back and took his prick into my mouth. It began to swell, and I sucked it hard, working my tongue underneath it to drive him higher. I was so ecstatic, I thought I'd burst. I had sucked Ronnie's cock, the first dick I'd ever put in my mouth, but I didn't enjoy it like I did Billy's. I guess I was freer, less inhibited.
"Oh my God," I heard him moan. "Oh, shit.. . "
His prick throbbed, and then he came. I sucked him like I would a piece of candy, his come gushing into my mouth. It was lovely. I came with him. I mean, how could I help it? When I was sucking him off, my pussy felt as though he were sucking me. It was a weird sensation. I liked it. I didn't want to stop sucking him, as a matter-of-fact.
His dick went limp, but I wouldn't let go. He just kept on moaning as I worked his cock between my lips. Soon he was ready again, and I made him unload again. And again it was beautiful, lovely. I couldn't get enough of him. I wanted to keep him at the apartment. And then I thought, why not? Why not have him live with me?
"Where do you live, Billy?" I asked.
"With a friend . . . "
"A girl?"
He glanced at me, his eyes suspicious. "Uh uh, a guy. Why."
"And where's your family?". "Sounds like the third degree," he smiled.
"My family's out in Michigan. What's this all about, anyway?"
"Do you want to move in with me?"
His eyes grew large, and I thought he would fairly burst with excitement.
"Yeah, yeh, I would. Hey, that's wild! You are too much.. . . "
"Do you have a job?"
"Nope. And I don't go to school, either," he said. "You met me by the school, but I was just there to see a couple of friends, who never showed."
"I knew you weren't going to school," I said. "How?"
"I don't know, you just had a look about you; older, sophisticated. You didn't look like you belonged in school. I guess that's why I was so bold with you. I knew you'd respond."
He pushed me onto my back and kissed me hard, driving his tongue between my lips. I threw my arms around his young, strong back and spread my legs. Hell, it was getting to be automatic. I wanted to feel his beautiful young cock inside me. I was marvelously happy whenever I fucked with a boy. I realized a strange contentment, the first contentment I had ever known in my life.
"Christ, you're a hell of a fuck!" Bill gasped.
"Thank you, honey," I teased. "Now, fuck me!"
Boys love that kind of talk. It excites them, stimulates them to capacities they'd never realized before. Billy shoved his trunk between my thighs and in he went! He had come three times, and now he was ready to make it again.
"Christ, I think I've got a permanent hard-on," he laughed, fucking that big dick of his into me. "It ain't never ever going down again!"
"Don't worry," I said. "I'll make it go down. Then I'll get it back up again."
"Lord, you're gonna kill me at this rate!"
I giggled and clamped my legs around him, all the better to pull more of his prick into me.
"Yessssss," I hissed. "Harder! Harder!"
He really jolted it through me then, and I met him hard as I could, bucking my hips against him like a bronco.
"Ooooooh, you're making me come!" I said. "I'm commmminnnggg . . . "
I jerked against him as if I was having a fit. My body was soaking wet, covered with perspiration. I felt as though I were a bitch in heat, and I guess I was! He paused at the tip of his cock, right at the lips of my vagina, and I thought I was going to die needing it.
"Billy! Do it, Billy! Ohhhhhh, Billy . . . "
The little bastard was playing with me, making me beg for it! Well, that was all right as long as he came across, eventually. It sort of heightened my enjoyment too, his manly ways of making it good for a woman. He was perfect for me, all the good traits of a man were his, and all the bad ones weren't.
"Okay, baby, here it is!" he giggled, ramming his dick into my pussy.
I flipped. We rolled around on the carpet like animals, and suddenly I was on top!
"Now I'll take care of you!" I rasped, working my cunt over his dick as if I were machine driven.
"Oh, yehhhh! Yehhhhh!" he screeched. "Fuck me! Oh, make it good, baby! Fuck meeeee!"
I was afraid he'd rouse the neighbors, but realized that those nice, thick walls would soak up his cries. He howled like a maniac too. I thought he was losing his mind, and that meant that he would lose the ability to control his dick, his ability to fuck, in other words. And I just couldn't have that, now could I, Doctor?
"I'll let up, Billy, if you make sure you never stop coming once you start.. . . "
I guess the drinks had made me a little woozy, had fogged my thinking. I wanted to play with him, throw words around in the same mood that I was in; mad. I like to talk like that sometimes. I just say whatever comes into my head, making sure that it is related to something, anything. Well, I fucked that poor boy until he was near dead. Damn, but we fucked!
"When can I move in?" he asked me at the door.
"Go home and get your things," I said. "Then take a cab over."
He was back in an hour, and then I really went after him! This was what I always wanted. My own boy, to do my bidding and take care of me. My husband was a dud, a loser. Why I had married him is beyond me today. I must've had a reason, hut I'll be damned if I can remember a sensible one. Now, things were different, and they were going to stay different. I didn't imagine Billy would stay long. And I didn't want him to. We'd have a good time, but I wanted other hoys, too.
"Listen, Billy," I said to him about a week later. "Have you got any friends?"
"Sure. I told you I was living with them until I moved in here."
"Boys or girls?"
"Both. There's only three or four, really. We were close."
"Why don't you invite them over for a party tonight?"
He stared at me as if he didn't believe his ears.
"Well, what about it? Don't you want to have some fun."
"Sure, but I thought . .
"That I wanted to keep us a secret? Wanted you all for myself? No, nothing like that at all. In fact, I'm looking forward to meeting your friends."
I stood and let my nightgown slide to the floor, and he licked his lips. I loved turning him on, as he would say. My body was in really good shape; I had always prided myself on my figure. Keeping an eye on it was about all I did when I was married. My husband always congratulated me for staying sexy; then he went out after other women. But Billy rewarded me differently. With him, I was proud to be a woman, delighted with feeling so much with him. I
"I'll bring them over," he murmured, getting to his feet. "Later.. . "
We laughed and stumbled up to the bedroom. He had his pants off in record time, and we played the whole afternoon. Then he went out to get his compatriots. When they arrived, they looked around the house as if they'd been kidnapped by a ghoul. I admit, my apartment was none too modern. My husband liked antiques, and antiques was what we filled the apartment with. I came down the stairs wearing next to nothing, and I supposed that heightened the eeriness of it all. But soon we were all good friends. Marijuana caused that. I had never smoked it before, but while we were listening to the music and dancing, a girl pulled a couple of them out of her pocket and lit them.
"Here," Billy said. "Try a drag of this. It'll make you feel better, if that's possible."
I laughed and took it from him.
"Now you're smoking reefers," he said as I inhaled. "You're really living.. . . "
I smoked it until I felt this delicious high take hold of me. It was much better than being drunk. I felt lively, alert. With booze, I got depressed, sullen. But pot invariably makes me feel better. And that night, I felt wonderful.
"C'mon, let's dance," one of the boys said to me, noticing my stare.
We got up and he pressed against me. I let my belly slide over his cock, and he grew hard darning with me. We stumbled around the room, barely avoiding falling over the furniture. We must've looked silly, because I could hear the others giggling like crazy. His hands were all over my body, and I was squirming in his arms, trying to get him hot enough to take me right on the spot. I wanted him to fuck me so bad, I almost came out and asked him for it. But I didn't have to. He was plenty bold, and he bent me over onto the couch and went at my clothes as if he wanted to steal them. Soon, I was nude and he was kissing my legs.
"Oooooh, baby" I heard someone moan.
I glanced toward the others and saw that the party had turned into an orgy. Billy was on the floor, his dick immersed in the mouth of a cute blonde girl who couldn't have been more than sixteen years old. A short, chunky boy was fucking it into her from behind, right into her anus. I got so excited watching them that I came a couple of times before my partner got to working on my pussy.
"What's your name, honey?" I smiled down at him.
"Mark."' he said, somewhat befuddled. "All right, Mark," I said, gripping him by the hair. "Eat!"
I pushed his face into my cunt and lay back gazing at the rest of the so-called party.
"Oh yes, yes!" the blonde was groaning. "You're there, you're there!"
She sounded like a whore, telling her customer that he should come. The kid did, and I watched Billy jerk his cock between the whore's lips. When he came, she nearly choked, his sperm dripping from her lips sucked it as fast as she could. When they finished, they collapsed in a heap next to the other couple, who were fucking themselves to death. The girl was raven-haired, and the boy was thin, but with a handsome face.
"Go to it, Gary, baby!" the blonde yelled. "Fuck her, fuck the slut until she drops dead!"
The kid seemed to want to do just that. God, but I've never heard of such an oversexed bunch of nymphs and studs in my life. They couldn't seem to get enough of it, and that meant that they were the crowd for me. Mark was eating my pussy as if it were dinner, and I shoved my ass down, bringing his whole face smack into it. Then I wormed my hips around and watched him wallow in it. I knew his dick was stiff inside his pants, so I pulled him around and took it out.
"Go ahead," he pleaded. "Go ahead . . . "
I sucked the head of his cock between my teeth and flicked my tongue against. He came instantly. I was disgusted at first, 'cause I had wanted him to last longer than that. But when I remembered there were three other boys in the room, and two girls, I didn't mind his coming at all. I lapped it up, and he stopped eating my pussy to give full attention to his dick.
"Ohhhhh, yehhhhh. Oh, Jeez, Ahhhhhh . . . " lie tumbled off me when he was through, and I wanted to hit him on the head. After all, I'd sucked him dry. The least he could do was return the favor. And then I saw the blonde looking at me, or I should say at my pussy. She had a wild look in her eyes, and she was high as a kite. Her hair fell about her shoulders, and she was like a vision, absolutely beautiful. I realized with a shock that I wanted her, although I'd never had an experience like that. I mean, I'd never done it with a woman. I hadn't even given the idea much thought before, even during all those years I spent alone while my husband was running the town.
I suppose that if I had been approached by a woman, I might have responded. But up until that night of the party, I'd never allowed myself to think about lesbianism as a potential hobby. But there I was, staring into the eyes of a teenage girl who was openly ogling my body. She got up and came over to me, and I started to sit up.
"No, don't," she said. "I want to look at you lying there. Your body is so . . . groovy. Really, you're delicious. I could just eat you up."
Now it was my turn to be scared. I'd been absolutely rapacious with boys, but this girl caught me off-balance. I was dying to feel her mouth on my pussy or sliding along my skin, but I couldn't bring myself to openly suggest it. If she had been a boy, I would have pushed him in there or told him what I wanted. But the girl scared me.
(NOTE: Actually, all of Rose's behavior terrifies her. However, it is only with the girl that she feels her terror. Her desperation has led her to pick up boys for sex partners and she had unconsciously steeled herself against any uncomfortable feelings that might result. But as she says, the girl's approach has thrown her off-balance. Now, she is vulnerable to a wide range of painful feelings.)
And then she was between my legs, her tongue licking at my pussy. Her hands spread my legs farther apart, and I felt her lips close about my clitoris. Her mouth sucked at me, and I started to fly through the ceiling. She was good, incredibly good. She must have done a lot of it before, to be able to suck my pussy like an expert. She really loved it, too. She squirmed and twisted around, and soon her cunt was above my face.
"Do me," she gasped. "Do me. Let's make it together. Ohhhhhh, do it!"
She squatted down a little further, and her cunt was right in front of my face. The pot was starting to wear off, and all of a sudden, I felt a little sick. But I stuck my face in her pussy and went to work anyway.
"Oh, oh, ohhhhhh," she moaned, twisting that lovely snatch of hers against my mouth.
"All right, honey," I rasped. "Now, we make it. Now, now! It must've looked as though we were trying to swallow each other, the way we writhed around on that couch. And when we came, we nearly fell apart. It took my breath away, and I just lay back and let her finish me off. Then she sat up and moved her cunt directly over me, lowering it against my lips. I took care of her, and we both stretched out for some rest. Unfortunately the boys had other ideas.
"Hey, look at that!" I heard Billy giggle. "They tired each other out. They're damn near dead. Let's see if we can revive them
His friends joined him, including the dark-haired girl, who trailed behind, her eyes shifting from me to her blonde friend, quick eyes that I did not trust.
"Okay, men," Mark said. "Let's rape these here virgins in their sleep."
"
"Nah," said the fat boy. "You'll wake 'em up."
"Why don't we have some fun with them?" said the girl, stepping forward.
"What kind of fun?" asked fatty. "You mean, we should kill em?"
The others tittered like mice.
"No," the girl said. "Let's whip 'em."
The blonde stirred, and they grabbed her. I was too scared to move. She didn't scream, because she really didn't understand what was happening. Mark tore the drapes down, and they bound her up, tying the end of the drape to a fixture in the ceiling. She was nearly hanging by her arms, and they pranced about her, taking long drags from a pipe filled with marijuana. I pretended I was asleep, and I nearly was; I felt as though I was going to faint. My heart was beating like mad, and my head was reeling.
"Now let's have some real fun!" Mark chirped, and they were at her.
They seemed to have forgotten me, so I opened my eyes and looked. The fat boy was beating her with a yardstick he had gotten from my kitchen. The blonde was screaming, loud, piercing screeches that scared hell out of me. Billy was behind her, kneading her big tits with his hands and kissing her neck. Mark was standing near the dark-haired girl.
"C'mon, Linda," he said. "Let's fuck . . . "
He shoved his hand down between her legs, and she spread them, letting him work his fingers into her pussy. Her eyes were glazed, and when she turned her head to look at me, I shut my eyes and played dead. When I opened them again, she was on her knees before the blonde, her face immersed in the girl's cunt. Mark was sitting in a stupor, his hand fondling his dick.
"Yehhhhh, baby," he said to Linda. "Sock it to her. Yehhh, suck it.. . "
And then the blonde started to moan, but not in pain. Her body began to shudder, and I realized that she was coming, that their weird attentions were exciting her.
"Oooooh, that's nice," she cooed, and Linda shoved her face deeper into the blonde's pussy.
"Cut her down," Billy ordered. "Get her on the floor!"
They pulled her bonds loose, and she collapsed onto the carpet like a sack of potatoes. Linda dived between her legs and took up where she had left off.
"Get outta the way!" Billy snapped.
He pushed Linda aside, and the blonde welcomed him with open arms. Obviously, she had been through the whipping mill before and liked it.
"Fuck me, Billy," she begged. "Please do it to me!"
"Sure, baby. Sure."
He climbed on top of her, and she opened her legs wide, letting him work his cock into her rant. She must've been plenty hot, because he had no trouble getting it in.
"Oh my God," she moaned. "Oh, Jesus!"
"Let's go, baby!" Billy laughed. "Gimme a ride!"
She did. Her hips bucked up at him, and he powered his dick into her like he wanted to split her open. He didn't let up until he came, and when he was finished, the fat boy replaced him. That girl took them all on, and when the boys were finished, Linda went in to clean up. The two ot them went out of their minds together, panting and raving like lunatics.
"Go to it, girls!" the fat kid yelled, pulling at his little penis as he watched the girls eat each other.
"Lemme see you shoot it, Artie," Mark said to him, and fatty jerked at his dick in earnest. "Oh, yeh," he moaned, watching Linda's head twist between the blonde's smooth thighs. "Oh, that's too much. Too much!"
His dick spurted, come gushing out, and the other two boys squealed as if he'd performed some kind of magic trick.
"Watch this," Billy chirped. "I ain't gonna waste it on the floor!"
He moved behind Linda, grabbing her ass and prying the cheeks apart. The other boys watched rapturously.
"Fuck her in the ass, Billy baby!" Mark urged. "Go ahead and stick it in. She'll love it."
Billy gurgled, positioning his cock, then jamming it into the dark-haired girl's anus. She wailed as if she'd been stabbed with a knife, but Billy wouldn't let her go. I was horrified, but entranced. Their sexual liberties were astounding. After all, they were only kids. But then, I was hardly in the position to be self-righteous. Still, there was something awful about the way they treated each other. It was so brutal . . .
"I'm in," Billy yelled, and his friends applauded, as if he was part of a rehearsed act.
"Make it come out her mouth," fatty yelped, fondling his small dick into hardness again.
"Yeh," Mark added. "Make her spit come, baby!"
Linda wasn't resisting now. Her hips worked back onto Billy's cock, while the blonde continued eating the girl's juicy cunt. The more I watched them, the hotter I got. I wanted to join them, but I was too scared. They were totally uninhibited, and I envied them. And then a wave of disgust would engulf me, and I wanted to run out of the apartment. And so I lay there, witnessing an orgy the likes of which I'd never seen or imagined. I wondered what kind of men and women they'd make, what they'd be like when they matured, if they ever would mature.
"I'm commmmmming!" I heard Linda rasp. "I'm gonna come!"
Her voice sounded inhuman, and it seemed only a coincidence that her sounds were intelligible. Her words were a cue for Billy to let fly, and he did. The girl jerked her ass over his dick, and the blonde moved her mouth away from Linda's pussy. She was reaching her own orgasm, one in a long series. I watched Linda's tongue burrowing into the girl's slit while Billy fucked like a madman. They were experts, it seemed, at reaching mutual climax. I thought the damn walls were going to cave in, the way the room shook.
"Wow!" Fatty whispered. "Oh, man!"
And then it was over. They were all sated, and they crawled out the door, laughing at me as I lay there feigning unconsciousness. When they left, I jumped up and locked the door. I was trembling like a leaf, absolutely terrified. I didn't know what was happening. I wanted to condemn them as perverts, but I would have had to include myself in the category.
I found a few half-smoked joints lying about the place and smoked them. I got as high as I could be, and it was worse. You'd think I'd have learned by that time that I was heading in the wrong direction, seducing young kids. But I went right along, doing the same thing, bringing them home with me. Some were good, some were bad or worse. And then my nerves went, about a month ago. Nothing in particular provoked it. I just couldn't sleep or eat, and then my head started spinning and I fainted in the street. When I woke up, they told me I'd suffered a bit of a breakdown. That's when I heard about you and decided I had to see you.
REMARKS: As I have noted, Rose is just beginning to verbalize her feelings, and any prognostication concerning her future would be premature. She is honest, and she seems willing to confront her own true feelings. That is encouraging. Whether she makes enough headway to make a happy, healthy life for herself depends on how long she maintains her interest in therapy, how deep her commitment really is.
PATIENT: Janet F., twenty-nine, singer.
REMARKS: A striking woman with the kind of features that make for success in show business, Janet seemed desperate to enter therapy. She had difficulty articulating her experiences at first, the trauma involved still fresh in her mind. After-several sessions in which she mumbled almost incoherently about several incidents', she was persuaded to recount a major part of her story from the beginning, A transcript of that session follows.
JANET: I guess I've always been kind of crazy. I mean, I was always open to new things and very ambitious. From the earliest I can remember, I wanted to be somebody important, a star, maybe. I was born with a good singing voice and I got a lot of attention as a kid because of it. My parents were the grasping kind. They figured they had a ticket to the money boat when they heard me belt out those songs when I was only fourteen. It started then, but they fell along the roadside pretty early. I couldn't stand them, and after I met Stan, I didn't want them around. I gave them plenty of money as I went my way, but I didn't want them near me. I wanted to be loved, and I thought Stan could give me what I wanted.
(NOTE: It is established early, then, that there existed a wide gulf between Janet and her parents. She turns to a man for the kind of affection she was denied in her childhood. Naturally, this can cause many problems if the man is not responsible.)
Stan was a smart man in the music business, and he became my manager. I was his first client, but he's got lots of them now. The bastard is a big man in town and I'm nobody. It was me who made him, too, not the other way around. We got married a few months after we met, and it wasn't too long after that that I discovered what was husband was really like. We made love less and less, while my career continued to climb. He said he was very busy with the other clients he was taking on and couldn't see me much. Then we hit a certain plateau, my playing second and third-rate nightclubs, and Stan asked me if I'd be willing to do anything to make it big.
"What do you mean, anything?" I asked. "Listen, I've got a guy who wants to see you, wants to meet with you privately. I've sold you the best I could, but he won't buy unless he gets a look at the real thing. So I figured you might pay him a visit. Tonight.. . " 'Tonight? Why tonight."
"He's leaving town tomorrow. And he's got one spot left for two weeks next month at his club. You may have heard of it, The Embers. . .
Well, I was very impressed. I mean, The Embers is very high class. It leads to all sorts of good things; television appearances, recording dates, the whole scene. So like a jerk I said, yes, I'd see the guy that night.
"Good!" Stan said. "That's my girl. If you hit it off with Zucker, we're in the big time. And remember, don't do anything to annoy him. Make him like you. Do anything . . . "
I guess I kidded myself by thinking that anything didn't mean what I knew it meant. So I trundled over to Mr. Zucker's apartment and made my pitch.
"I'm so glad you could make it, my dear," he said, giving me the big, phony smile.
He wasn't a bad-looking guy, and I felt comfortable sitting in that enormous penthouse drinking his Scotch. We talked the talk, how much I'd get per week for the two weeks I'd work, and then he moved in. I was expecting it, but I wasn't ready for it, if you know what I mean. I'd worn my sexiest dress, and I was sorry I had. It turned him on, and he came right at me, no holds barred. Soon, I was flat on my back on the sofa and he was working my dress up my thighs.
"Mr. Zucker!" I said. "Please! What are you-"
"C'mon, baby," he leered. "Your hubby told me you'd play ball. He said you were a sure thing. Otherwise, we'd never gotten beyond the small-talk stage. I got a dozen dames who could fill the bill those two weeks. But you're the one I want. Now . .
I told him I wanted another drink first, a strong one, and I damn near gulped it down. It made me feel better, a little sexier, and I tried to forget what I was doing. I concentrated on the fact that he was handsome and that I was feeling good.
"I'll bet you snow all the girls into giving you a little right on this couch," I teased.
"Nah, not all. Just the best."
I accepted that as flattering and let his hand crawl up my legs and fool with my pussy. I was beginning to get hot, now, cause I hadn't had any from my husband for a couple of weeks. I used to masturbate when it got to be too much for me. but that's a lousy substitute for the real thing. Before I knew it, we were on the floor, nude, and he was aiming that big dick of his right at home plate. I opened wide, and in he went. I felt good, and I tried to ignore the fact that I was married, that my husband had set me up for this, that I'd never seen the man I was fucking with before in my life.
"Ohhhh, you're good," he moaned, and I felt like asking him for a medal.
"You like me?" I asked. "Then fuck me. Fuck me good. Like that washout husband of mine can't."
Well, he worked it nice, and I was very surprised when I came. I mean, I didn't expect to get that excited. But I guess cock is cock and pussy is pussy, and I dig cock 'cause I'm pussy. Yeh, well, I guess that sounds bad, but it's the truth.
"Well, come in tomorrow, honey, and meet my manager," Zucker said after we finished, j "He'll help you get settled for your big chance."
"You mean, we're through for the night?"
"Yes, uh, I told your husband I'd have you home by midnight. I mean, I wouldn't keep you too long. He said he-"
"Who cares what he said? You're running the show, aren't you? Besides, I'm not ready to leave yet."
With that I started tongue bathing his body. He had a beautiful physique, and as long as I had a full bottle of booze to keep my courage up and my pussy hot, I could do a lot for him. Stan always said I was the best he ever had, although he got tired of it pretty soon. I guessed he was screwing a lot of outside stuff, so I didn't feel bad about making it with Mr. Big. Not too bad, anyway. I sucked him off, then made him take care of me the same way.
"Oh no, I never do that sort of thing," he said with this Ivy League voice. "Oh, no, it's unclean."
"Unclean?" I said. "You just had your dick down there, didn't you? You got a dirty prick or something? Or are you just afraid?"
I guess that bugged him, 'cause when I spread my legs and lay back, he moved toward the end zone like a pro. The lights in the apartment were beautiful, and I felt as though I were swimming through some light, airy cloud, the green, blue, and red lights spinning through my head. Finally, I hauled my ass out of there and went home. The two-week engagement big boy had promised me had been extended to eight, and when I told Stan, he was overjoyed.
"Two months! That's fantastic! How did you do it?"
I gave him a dirty look and went to the bedroom.
"You mean, you've been . . .all that time?"
I didn't turn around to answer, and when I heard him bounding up the stairs, I knew I was in for it. He shoved me into the room, and I sprawled on the bed like a rag doll.
"You bitch!" he screamed. "You goddam bitch! You didn't have to give him everything you had!"
"Fuck you, buster! You're full of shit, telling me I'm messed up. It was you who arranged our little party. It was you who handed over your own wife so you could make a few bucks. How docs it feel to be a pimp, Stan?"
I don't remember much after that. He tore off his belt and beat the shit out of me, and he used his fists, too. He must've washed me off after he knocked me out, 'cause I wasn't in too bad shape the next morning. I guess he wanted to protect his investment. Can't have me walking into The Embers bruised and bloody, you know.
"Have a nice day, honey?" I asked him when he got home two days later.
"Shut up. We're having company. Get dressed and look sexy. This man can do us a lot of good. He's with Carom records, and I'll think he's looking for somebody new, or he wouldn't be coming here with me to meet you. And this time, I'm not letting you out of my sight."
I remember wanting to die at that point. It just didn't seem worth it, no matter how much money I made, no matter how many beautiful people I got to know. I wanted out, but I felt as though it were too late. Of course, it wasn't. I was just afraid to put an end to it all. I believed that I was in it to stay, for better or for worse. And it certainly did get worse.
"Honey, I want you to meet Arnold Avery, of Carom records. Arnold, my wife . . . "
Arnold gave me the up-and-down look, pausing to take a good look at my tits and my pussy. I was wearing the kind of intimate gown all men wish their girlfriends would wear, and Arnold was digging it. I had already had a few drinks while I was dressing, and I was too smashed to give a damn. If Stan wanted it this way, that's the way it would be. In spades.
"I'm so glad to meet you, Arnold," I gushed, crossing the room toward him. "Stan didn't tell me you were so . . . cute!"
He blushed, and I almost laughed in his face. What a clown!
"Are you married, Arnold?" I asked him, and the blush deepened. The fool!
"Well, so am I," I said, easing into the couch. "And it doesn't seem to mean a whole hell of a lot."
I patted the cushion next to me, indicating that I wanted him to plant his fat ass next to me. He was an ugly sucker, no where near as good-looking as the last date. I figured Stan was trying to dampen my ardor. He wanted to keep the reins loose on me, but not too loose. That would be embarrassing.
Arnold sat down and adjusted his tie, pulling it tighter around his pink neck.
"No, no," I said, loosening it and opening the top button of his shirt. "Relax. We're going to have a good time tonight. I want us to be friends. Good friends. Stan, will you fix us a drink? I want a double Scotch . . . "
I babbled on and on about how friendly people could be with one another if they let their inhibitions slide free, and all the while I heard Stan clinking about in the kitchen. I slid closer to Arnold, and he looked straight down at my tits, which nearly jumped up at him.
"You do want to know me very well, don't you, Arnold?"
The guy was absolutely adolescent. His wife must've been Olive Oil or something. He was a real loser, at least with women. He had quite a lot going for him in other ways. Like a two-year contract for a half dozen records for some lucky vocalist, preferably female.
"I, uh-"
He didn't have time to answer my last question. Stan barreled into the room with our drinks. Arnold took a deep gulp of his, and he was so nervous I could hear the ice cubes rattling as he held it. He was a sure thing, and I decided that I was going to play him and Stan for all I was worth. I felt wild, crazy. And disgusted. I was chattel now, and I didn't like it. But I'd go along with it, because, as I said, I didn't feel as though I had any other choice that meant anything at that point. I could just see me going home to Mom and Dad. Hah!
"Who's your favorite singer?" I asked him. T mean, among the ones under your contract."
"Well, I guess, Frank-"
"No, I mean the female ones."
"Oh, I like them all. They're all very-"
"But you must have a favorite one. Someone who's closer to you than the others. After all, an attractive man like you . . . "
Again, the blush. I felt nauseous.
"Stan, would you fix me another drink? And take a little longer this time, darling, so Arnold and I can get acquainted without you sitting there staring at us like an underfed hyena."
My dear husband disappeared into the kitchen, scowling darkly. I turned to our guest, letting my tits slide against his arm. He nearly jumped, and I moved in even closer.
"Suppose I were one of your singers?" I asked. "Would I be your favorite?"
I let my arm fall behind his shoulders, and I toyed with the short hair on the back of his neck. I thought he was going to spring out of the sofa as if he were jet propelled, but he held his ground. He even began looking me in the eye, and I guessed that his dick must be taking over. Hubby was in the kitchen, on orders to make it a long stay, and he could hardly be mistaken about my intentions.
"I don't know whether you'd be my favorite or not," he said. "I've only heard your tapes. But I must say I like what I've heard. I suppose it would depend on how you developed."
"I've always been told that I'm well developed already," I said, half-giggling.
He let his eyes sweep over me, and there was a lot to look at. I had let my gown part, and my legs were staring him in the face. If he looked hard enough, he could have glimpsed my cunt, I was so damn brazen about the whole thing. Inside, my stomach was churning, slowly but painfully. I tried to still it, but it woiddn't be denied. I hated him. I hated my husband. I hated myself.
(NOTE: Janet's insights are admirable. Although she is caught up in a game she is willing to play, part of her realizes that she despises what she is doing. Obviously, her husband's use of her as bait for advancement in the music business has hurt her terribly. And yet she agrees to do as he says, even embellishing the act to anger him. As she says, she is afraid to leave him, afraid to start a new life or find another man. So she hangs on to him, hoping foolishly that something will change, that things will not get worse.)
I wondered whether he'd ever get up the guts to make an advance, and finally he did. His arms went about my neck, and he kissed me hard. It was a clumsy kiss, the kiss of a man who is not really familiar with women. I shot my tongue into his mouth, trying to work up a little passion, and I succeeded. He opened his mouth wide, and we frenched very nicely, indeed. He must've been scared stiff that Stan would stomp back into the room, and that's what happened.
"Hello, dear!" I said, as Arnold rubbed the lipstick from his lips with his fingers. "Our guest is very . . . nice. I'm glad you brought him home."
Stan glared at me, then mumbled something about checking a business deal and went into his den. Arnold and I got back to business. Soon, his hand was inside my gown, feeling my tits. I thrust them into his palm and he took greater liberties. Again, I felt hot, and grew hotter as his hands roamed my body. I wanted him! Lord, but I was ashamed!
"Tell me, Arnold, what did my husband tell you about me before you came?"
"Well, uh, he said that you uh, were, very . . . affectionate. I had said that my wife was very cold, and he said that I needed-"
"That's all, Arnold dear," I interrupted. "That's quite enough. And don't look so worried. I'm going to give you that affection you want so badly."
I stood up and let the gown fall off me. He stared at me as if I were the first woman he'd ever seen. Maybe I was. Who knows what he married?
I put my hands on my hips and struck a sexy pose. The booze had done its job, and I was ready for Arnold.
"Do you really think so?" I asked. "Then make love to me, Arnold. Make love to me. . . . "
He jumped up as though he'd been bitten, grabbing me and French kissing me as if he'd just learned how. His tongue was racing through my mouth, and I could feel his dick hard against my thigh. I hoped he was good-sized. In the dark, I wouldn't know the difference between Tom, Dick, or Harry. If the dick was right, the fuck could be fine.
"I want you!" he moaned. "Oh, I want you so bad. It's been so long since-"
"Yes, Arnold honey," I said, running my hands through his stringy hair. "I know. But Janet is going to take care of all that tonight. But we can't do it here. Is your car outside?"
We were at his place in fifteen minutes, and I imagined Stan was flipping out. I wished I could hear him bellowing.
Once we were inside, I wasted no time in giving Arnold the screw of his pot-bellied, skinny-legged life. We ended up in this enormous bed, squirming around on these satin sheets like a king and a queen. I felt like royalty, too. I thought that it would be much better if I prostituted myself for a man like Arnold, complete with wedding ring, than for a shit like Stan. But I knew that was impossible. I didn't want to do what I was doing. I wanted Stan, not Arnold. My mind started to flop around inside my head again.
"Wanna do something really wild?" I said to my reluctant lover.
"What?"
"Get dressed and bring a lot of money. About a hundred bucks. We're going to get another man. I should say, a boy. It'll be groovy. He'll do both of us."
We went to this joint down the Village Stan had taken me to. A lot of young boys hung out there, and Stan told me they sold themselves to the highest bidder. He said they'd make it with anybody, for the right price, which was usually "igh-
"That one over there," I said. "Let's buy that one. . . . "
I remembered Arnold looking at me as if I were loony, and I wanted to ask him where he got off, but I held back. It would have ruined things. He hadn't promised to give me that contract yet. And I knew if I got home and told Stan I didn't have it, he'd try to kill me. And he might have.
"Well, how do I.. . I mean, what do I say?"
"Never mind. I'll do it. Just give me the hundred."
He handed me two fifties, and I went over to this great-looking boy, who sat with his feet up on the table and a cool look spilling out of his face. He thought he was choice, and I'll admit that I dug him. Suddenly, he looked better than any man I'd ever seen or known. I liked him, liked his directness. There was no facade, no hypocrisy. He was selling, and if you were buying, fine, you could do business. Whether he liked you depended on how you acted. And I wanted him to like me very much. I needed him. Strange, is it not? Yeh, to say the least. But I was so attracted to him, I couldn't think straight. I didn't expect to go ga-ga over the kid, but when I got close to him, I wanted to know him. Like I said, I needed him in some weird way.
(NOTE: I have found that in almost all cases, women who seduce boys do so because they have had unsatisfactory or traumatic relationships with men. Janet certainly falls into this category. Her husband and her lovers have all been crude, unsatisfying men. Now, confronted with the animal youth of the handsome boy, she feels that part of her which is still untarnished and fresh respond to him. She wants to fasten herself to him so that she may keep from submerging, from losing herself in the unhappy morass in which she is living.)
"Hi!" I said to him, and he gave me the once over, gazing at me with those big blue eyes. "Not too talkative?" I asked. "Not too," he smiled. "What's to talk about."
"May I sit?"
He motioned me to a chair next to him, and I slipped into it, trying to get as close to him as possible. I didn't care if anyone overheard us. They all knew what I was up to, anyway. I just wanted to get as close to the kid as possible. I felt as though I were a bit of metal in the field of some sexual magnet. Lord, but that boy turned me on!
"I've got a hundred in my hand," I said.
"A hundred what?"
I sat there openmouthed. He was up on me already. I felt foolish. I was being melodramatic.
"Let's leave," I said. "I'll give you a hundred dollars if you'll make love to me."
"It'll be a pleasure," he said, pushing his chair back. "But what about chubby?"
I glanced at Arnold, who was watching us as if we were secret agents and he our foe.
"Him, too," I said.
"A hundred more," the kid said flatly, and I nodded.
When we got to the car, I hopped in back with the boy, who said his name was James.
"My brother's named Jimmy too," Arnold said.
"Not Jimmy," the kid said. "Jimmy is your brother. I'm James."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Arnold said, and I almost puked.
The snotty bastard was letting the kid mess up his ego. When we got home, I had already tasted a little of James's stuff. We had fucked once on the back seat, and I felt like a million, jerking my pussy over that boy's cock. And he had a good one, too. I thought that boys were small, but he wasn't. I wondered if he were an exception, and I made a mental note right then to find, out. Once inside the house, James and I retired to the bedroom. Arnold forked over his hundred but he stayed in the living room, mumbling something about showing us some of his films.
"I got some real sexy ones here," he said, rummaging through a pile of film canisters. "You wouldn't believe the stuff they do in front of the camera. It's amazing."
James took my arm, and we headed upstairs. I felt like a goddess, and we fucked like nobility, high and mighty on our satin sheets.
"Dig the freaky sheets," he said, rolling around like a seal. "Caress my tender skin, softness. Make me feel super-smooth.. . . "
I went down on him first thing. His dick was still we! from my pussy juice, and I lapped it up. When I felt his dick surge, his hands working my mouth over him, I sucked as hard as I could. I was coming as if I'd never arrive. Shit, I was hot!
"Yeh, yeh, yeh!" he shouted, and when he made it happen, my mind blew.
I rolled around on the bed, taking his dick with me, and I heard him grunt like an animal as he tried to stay with me. I ended up on my back, with his dick in my mouth, the last of his come dripping out of the tip of his cock, which looked as though I'd beaten it with a hammer.
"Damn, woman," he said, relaxing back onto the bed. "You oughtn't have to pay anyone to come into your bed."
The light of day dawned upon my darkened mind! It wasn't my money, but still, I had handed him the bills. Why? I could have any boy I wanted simply by taking him, making him want me! I was so stupid! Stan had treated me so badly that I felt degraded, and the men he brought home deepened that feeling. But here was a young boy, a real stud, who told me I shouldn't be worrying about a thing, that I should be getting everything my little heart desired. What a fool I was not to realize it! Men are crass brutes. What did I need them for, any of them? Youth was king, and I knew that any boy in his right mind would love me, want me so bad he could taste it. I was finally getting smart.
(NOTE: Janet's solution to her problems is, of course, far from wise. Although she realizes that she was foolish in submitting to mistreatment from men, her new reliance on boys does not guarantee lasting happiness. Her relationship with James had caused her to feel exultant and has led to certain insights. For her to seek only boys as sex partners, however, represents an escape from the pressures of finding a real solution to her troubles. She is still traveling the same path, but with different companions. They are now boys, not men.)
Well, I saw James several times after that. And then it happened. Stan caught us in bed together. He beat me and chased the boy out, but I didn't stop seeing young boys, like he wanted me to. I just went to their pads, instead of my own. That's when we separated.
I had some money, enough to live on, and I wasn't about to do any work that would make him money. But things didn't go well. I met plenty of nice boys, but I ran out of money, and I started drinking a lot and smoking grass, marijuana. I was stoned most of the day, fucking with any kid that happened to find me home.
I was living in this rundown apartment over on the West Side, and every new kid that hit town seemed to hear about me eventually. And then I started snorting shit, heroin. I guess it was that that did me in. I got a habit before I even realized it, in a couple of weeks. I tried to shake it, but I couldn't. I got too sick. That's when I went to the hospital.
(REMARKS: Although Janet's promising singing career is apparently at an end, her hopes for regaining her physical and emotional health are not. With proper treatment and medication, she is well on the way to overcoming her dependence on drugs. And with persistence, I think that her emotional problems can be reduced to the point that she can again enter society and live a satisfying life. If her spirit proves truly indefatigable, she might even manage to make a comeback of sorts as a singer. But that is not important to her now. She merely wants to gain some degree of emotional balance, so that she can make choices in life, rather than allowing someone to make them for her.)
PATIENT: Philip W., nineteen, student. REMARKS: A rather plain-looking boy, Philip related his story in a low voice, pausing often, as if embarrassed by his words. However, he did manage to articulate his problems, which were considerable and which he is very eager to resolve. His first session with me was a fruitful one, and the text of it follows.
PHILIP: I've always been a shy guy, and it's always bugged me. I hate being like I am, and I've tried to change myself, but it seems as though it's impossible to do all by myself. That's why I'm in therapy, I guess. I need professional help. I've always wanted help of some sort, and I wanted it to come from my parents, not from a shrink. But my parents just weren't around. My mother was, but she had too many problems of her own.
She divorced my father when I was six, and we've been pretty far apart, my mother and I, for a long, long time. I think she just doesn't know how to raise a kid, how to make him feel loved. I think she loves me, but that isn't enough. A kid has to know, and I didn't.
I know my father hated me from the moment I was born. I was just a mouth to feed, something that soaked up more of his hard-earned money. I'd like to say that I don't miss him, but every boy misses a father when he doesn't have one.
As for my sex life, well, that was nonexistent until I went to college, unless masturbation is considered part of someone's sex life. In that case, I had a very active sex life. I masturbated at least once a day, and sometimes I jerk off maybe three or four times.
I always dreamed of women, imagined fucking them. I had a couple dates when I was in high school, but it was just hold-hands stuff, nothing really sexy. But then I hit college and flew straight into Mrs. Ann Roberts. She was a doll, really built, and I used to masturbate thinking about her. I watched her like a goddamn hawk, answering questions as if I were a maniac Phi Beta Kappa.
"Mrs. Roberts," I said to her one day after class, "do you feel I'm doing as well as I should be?"
I wanted to ask her if she thought I could screw her as good as I wanted to.
"Why, yes, Philip," she said. "I think you're doing fine."
And so I stood there gawking at her. God, she was a piece. I'd heard her husband was a jerk, a button-down type who considered himself the greatest living salesman. I think he sold buttons or something. I didn't figure her for him, and I wanted to tell her so. But I just stared, and suddenly she seemed to realize that I was giving my dick a workout, not discussing my scholastic aptitude.
"Is that all, Philip?" she said, giving me that sweet, sexy smile.
"Uh, no," I said. "I mean, yes, that's it. . . "
I grabbed my books and said goodbye, but she asked me to wait a minute. She leaned forward to rummage through this big handbag she carried, and I was treated to a good look at those juicy tits of hers. I wanted to stuff my hand down the front of her blouse and take a good feel, but I cooled it.
"Would you mind walking me to my car?" she said. "I've got a lot of papers here and books. You might give me a hand . . . "
"Sure," I shot back, grabbing an armful of stuff from her. "I'm in no hurry."
We left the building, and I helped her load all her junk into the back seat of her car, a snappy little sports job hubby must have bought her with his bonus.
"Can I give you a lift?" she said. "Where do you live?"
"In town. I've got an apartment."
"And a roommate?"
Man, I almost flipped. Here she was, asking me whether anybody else was in my apartment right now. I mean, what else could she be driving at?
"Yeh, I got a roommate. But he went home for the weekend. He left at noon."
"Well, let me drop you off . . . "
I didn't put up a fight. I just hopped in that snazzy car, and off we went. When we pulled up in front of my joint, she sat there looking at me as if she didn't quite know what to do. Not that I had any ideas I could put into words. I was scared shit to come out and ask her to come on up.
"You wanna come in a minute? You could avoid the traffic. It's pretty tough this time of day."
"Yes, I know," she said.
She said it in this flat, sultry kind of voice, and my dick felt as though it wanted to punch a hole in my pants and go after her. She was staring at me, and I was doing the same thing to her. It seemed like we sat there for an hour, and finally she nodded and opened the door. My heart was thudding like a drum as I showed her up the stairs. I could smell the cooking of the landlord on the first floor, remembering that he said he didn't want any girls traipsing through his house. That was his word, traipsing. But really, it was his wife who laid down the law. He just acted as the enforcer. I figured that if either one of them asked me about Mrs. Roberts, I'd tell them she was my aunt who lived in the next town.
"Ummm, very nice," she said as we walked into my pigsty.
"Oh, c'mon, its' a damn mess," I said.
"Nicer than most boys' apartments I've been in."
"You been in many?"
I would have kicked myself, but it just would have compounded my stupidity. But she just smiled, and I asked her if she wanted a drink. Very sophisticated. I poured her a stiff Scotch and soda and gave myself a bourbon on the rocks. I needed all the guts I could pour.
"You must have a good time up here," she said. "With the girls, I mean."
She sipped her drink and crossed her legs, and I found myself ignoring her remark and concentrating on the smoothness of her thighs. Her dress was real short, almost too short for a teacher, a professor. But I guess she was part of the emancipated scene, and she wore what she wanted. Every guy in her class approved. Most of the chicks hated her entrails.
"What, uh, I mean . . . "
"I said, I bet you have some fun parties up here."
"No, not really. The landlord doesn't allow it."
'Then where do you bring your girlfriends?"
Now, that was a tricky question. How do you tell a woman that you don't have any girlfriends and not come off as some kind of introverted ogre? You tell the truth.
"Actually, I don't have any girlfriends. I mean, I just haven't met my type yet."
She took another sip and turned me on with those eyes of hers. "What's your type?" she asked. "What kind of girls do you dig?"
Well, she was only about thirty, so I guess it was all right for her to use words like "dig." It made me feel funny, though. I wasn't sure whether I was with my first lay or with some female professor who wanted to establish professional rapport by using words like "dig." I had never been so bold before in my life with a girl. I guess that's what gave me guts, the fact that she was a woman. I never would have asked a girl up to the apartment. Any girl would've known what I was after, and I can't stand that. But a woman, well there was always that pretense, that you're just a boy and she's just a woman and nothing can really happen. At least, that's the way I saw it then.
"What kind of girls do I like, eh?"
I was trying to be cool, acting as if I'd never given it much thought. Actually, I could have told her that I like the big-bodied type, with nice, firm tits and smooth, strong thighs, A woman just like her, for example.
"I like 'em like you. Kind of voluptuous."
I heard my voice say the words, but my soul did not want to believe I had uttered them. I sat waiting for her to laugh, and she smiled. A nice, friendly smile. Amused. It occurred to me that she was playing with me, and I wanted to crack her one.
"My type?" she purred. "Are you sure?"
"Yes . . . "
"Well, why don't we find out? Why don't you kiss me?"
She put her drink down-it was her second one-and I let her come against mc. I was absolutely paralyzed, and if she hadn't pushed her mouth onto mine, I probably would have sat staring at her. Things were happening too fast. It was like a dream, and I sat waiting to wake up. But I didn't. Her lips were insistent, and it dawned on me that I had this gorgeous woman in my arms and wasn't doing a damn thing to keep her there. So I closed my arms about her and let my tongue slide into her mouth. My dick became brick-hard, and when her hand dropped to my crotch, I thought the top of my head was going to blow off.
"Ooooh, Philip," she cooed. "I think you're right. I think I am your type . . ."
I didn't bother telling her that I agreed. I just pulled her into my lap and let her ass squirm around on my prick. Shit, I was horny, and I thought I was gonna come right in my pants.
"I have to be home soon, Philip," she said, and my heart fell into my belly. "So we'll have to make it a quickie this time."
Christ, I was still alive and swinging! Man, I'll never forget that day! We fucked ourselves to death! Home, my ass! She didn't get out of my place until damn near eight o'clock. Hubby expected her at five, so I really figured I had her in my pocket.
Of course, I didn't know any of this when she slipped out of my lap and unzipped her dress. I guess she was as frustrated as I was, 'cause she really put on a show. She peeled that dress off, giving me a look at those beautiful boobs and the rest of her. My dick was like iron, and I just sat there ogling her. She seemed to dig it, stripping for me, I mean. She turned and unsnapped her brassiere, and when she faced me again, those fantastic tits were bobbing free, like twin melons. Lord, they looked juicy. I started to get up. I wanted to get my dirty little hands on her.
"No," she snapped. "Sit down. I'm not ready yet. Don't spoil it.. . "
I decided she could do it any way she wanted, as long as I got mine. All those lonely hours with dirty books flashed before my mind, and I almost had to laugh. Now I was living the stuff. The real thing had arrived, with thirty-nine-inch tits and hips that would make you drool.
"Oooooh, I feel so sexy!" she squealed, and I guessed that she wasn't accustomed to drinking liquor.
I watched her peel those panties down her legs, and my cock throbbed. She stood there stark naked in her high heels, and by that time, I wasn't about to wait any longer. But I couldn't move, my arms and legs felt as though they were filled with concrete. I mean, I'd never even fondled a girl. And now I was staring at a nude woman standing in my apartment waiting for me to stick my dick into her. She was mine, but I was petrified.
(NOTE: Philip's fear is understandable. As he says, he is a virgin and has had almost no contact with the opposite sex. He feels more at ease with the woman, because she poses less of a threat to him. Somehow, he senses her interest in him, and even if his presumption proves false, he will not be embarrassed severely. She will simply ignore his advances and leave. But of course, she has no intention of leaving. She feels equally comfortable with him. Her marriage is obviously in trouble, and he provides a safe outlet for her frustrations. She can parade before him, act as she likes, because she knows he will not reject her. Each of them is fulfilling strong needs.)
"Do you want me?" she said in this sing-song voice as she swayed toward me. "Do you want me? Do you?"
And then she was in my lap again, her hot nudity pressing against me. Her fingers worked at the buttons of my shirt, and my fingers went for her pussy. I was breathing so hard, I was gasping. I felt as though I'd run a mile in under four minutes. I worked my middle finger against her pussy, and she opened her legs a bit, and I was in! I slid it in and out, and she mewed like a kitten. Her body was hot and soft, and she let her head loll back while I finger-fucked her. All of a sudden, she started to shake, and when I realized she was coming, I really got turned on.
"No, don't stop," she moaned as I got to my feet, her body easing into my chair.
I literally tore at my clothes, doc, trying to get them off. My shirt ripped, but I didn't give a damn. My parents would buy me another one, but they wouldn't buy me what this piece was gonna give me. I wanted it so bad, I was trembling. My stomach was jumping around, and I could barely control my hands. I wanted to get it in her before she changed her mind and split. After all those years of jerking off, I was too close to let her get away without a few fucks. At least one, anyway.
"Mmmmm," she groaned, staring at my dick as it popped free of my jockey shorts. "Isn't that pretty? Such a lovely thing . . . "
Her eyes seemed dull, opaque. She'd had too much to drink, but that was fine with me. The drunker the better. She'd put out more if she were high.
"Ohhhh, all right, lover," she said, pulling that lush body out of the chair. "Let's get to it."
We stumbled into the bedroom and onto the bed. She writhed around like a snake, and I kissed her tits, sucking the nipples like a baby. She moaned, and her tits jerked up, pressing against my face, I took a handful of each of them, and she yelped like a bitch.
"Do it to me!" she said. "Put it in, now!"
I was so nervous, I was afraid I wouldn't be hard, but her hand took hold of me and I knew I was ready, she positioned it at the lips of her cunt, and I bucked my hips, sending it into her. Man. I was in a groove! It was great! Hot and juicy! I kissed her, and I felt my come go right to the tip of my cock. She must've realized I was about to come, 'cause she stopped wriggling around and told me to take it easy. Yeh, sure.
"Don't come yet, Philip. Oh, please don't!" I stopped pumping it into her, and the sensation let up.
"Yesssss," she hissed. "That's it. Nice and easy now. Mmmmm . . . "
Man, she could fuck! She worked those hips of hers, and her pussy just eased over my cock, just like she said, nice and easy. I wanted to fuck her forever, never leave that sweet cunt.
"Damn, it's too much!" I said finally. "I can't control it no more."
"All right! Come then! Come! Ooooh, let me have it! Let me have it all!"
I shot it into her, and I'll never forget it, that first fuck! We twisted around like mad, fucking each other as if we were trying to kill ourselves. Finally, I moved off her, and she slid down my legs and kissed my cock. Wow! I freaked out! I felt it grow hard, and then she was sucking it like a demon.
"Yehhhh, suck it baby!" I shouted, along with a few other choice obscenities.
When I came the second time, it was different. She just sucked it out of me, as if she were drawing water from a well. Her tongue twirled around me, and I shoved it deeper into her mouth, until she almost choked on it.
"Well, I guess you've had quite a time," she said after we had finished. "One moment a virgin, the next a pro. Wait'll you get hold of the girls now."
"No. I don't want any girls. I want you. I have to see you again. You will, won't you?"
She gave me one of those appraising looks, then nodded. "Sure, why not? It was fun."
I kissed her at the door, a long soul kiss, then watched her go down the stairs and out, those buttocks pistoning, the hips swaying. Lord, but she was some woman.
"How about today?" I said after class a week later.
She hadn't mentioned anything about making it again since we split, so I brought the subject up.
"All right. Wait for me after class. Outside. Well go for a ride."
We drove into the park, then trampled into the woods.
"I always wanted to do it in the woods," she said. "It's so romantic. Have you read For Whom the Bell Tolls?"
"No."
"Oh. Well, in the book, the hero makes love to the heroine under the moon at night. It's beautiful."
(NOTE: Mrs. Roberts is obviously a very romantic woman who is realizing some of her dreams with the aid of her young boy. He is fulfilling his yearnings by making love to a grown woman. But by developing a relationship, they are preventing each other from finding the same happiness with partners more suited to their age. Each time they see each other, it becomes more difficult for them to face the fact that normal boys take girls as sex partners, while women develop deep relationships with men, not boys.)
We stopped in a grassy section, and she stripped her clothes off. We made it good that day, and the days after that. My roommate even got in on the fun and games. He was better-looking than me, and I was worried she'd dig him more than me, but she seemed to prefer me over him. I guess I was her first boy, just like she was my first woman. And then the landlord's wife, Eleanor, got pissed off. She said she saw us trafficking with that woman, as she put it.
"Oh yeh?" I retorted, feeling my oats. "Well, what's wrong with a couple of red-blooded guys taking care of business every once in a while?"
She was kind of flabbergasted. Those big tits of hers rose and fell, and she just stood in the middle of the room looking indignant.
"Well, I don't mind myself," she said. "It's just that the neighbors . . . "
"What do you care about the neighbors?" Tommie, my roommate, said. "After all, you never know what they're up to."
She glared at us a moment, then smiled.
"Mrs. Califano, you mean?" she asked.
"Yeh," I said. "I think she fools around on the side a little bit. Most women do."
'They do?"
"Sure. That friend of mine you've been complaining about, she's married."
"She is?"
Tommie must've felt as crazy as me. He got up and poured Eleanor some wine. We'd been guzzling the stuff for the hell of it, just to get high. We didn't have any work to do, school-work, I mean, and we were just relaxing when she came banging on the door. I wasn't sure she'd take the wine, but she did. Then she plopped into a chair that was as overstuffed as she was and downed the wine. I knew right there that she'd either drink us under the table or be drunk in two minutes.
"Want another glass?" Tommie asked, holding it for her before waiting for an answer.
"This woman," she said, sucking up the wine. "The one who comes here to see you. Why does she come?"
We looked at each other and couldn't find a reply between us.
"I mean, she must like you very much," Eleanor continued.
"She does," I said.
"But you're so young!"
"What's wrong with that?"
"But she's a grown woman.. . "
"Whose husband doesn't treat her right. We treat her fine, much better than he ever dreamed of treating her."
There was a pause in the conversation as Eleanor considered what had been said. Tommie was sitting near her, filling her glass as if the thing had a hole in the bottom. She was sitting carelessly, nearly drunk, her legs crossed and her dress halfway up her thighs. I was staring hard at her, trying to get across the fact that I'd love to get my hands on all that soft, smooth flesh.
"So she likes young boys, eh?" Eleanor mused.
"Yeh," Tommie said, leaning forward to place his hand on her leg. "Now, truthfully, wouldn't you like to be in her shoes? Really?"
I figured we'd lose the apartment for sure, evicted on the spot. But the broad just smiled this toothy grin and uncrossed her legs. Tommie's hand slid between her fat thighs, and she closed them, letting her head loll back as he gave her a little feel. He looked over at me, grinning like a madman, then got to his knees and pried her legs apart. I took out my dick and started jerking off. I was a little drunk, too, and I didn't mind waiting my turn. I wanted to watch Tommie make the bitch.
"Oooooooh, what's happening?" she moaned as his head burrowed toward her pussy. "Mmmmmmm, I feel so gooooood.. . . "
I chuckled and watched my roommate spread those big legs. She lifted her ass, and he slid her panties down and off. Then she opened her thighs as wide as the gates of hell, and Tommie dived for her snatch. She wiggled her butt over the end of the chair so he could get a good lick at her, and he ate her as if he were dining.
"Ummmmmm, ummmmmm, that's it, that's it!" she moaned.
Her eyes were half-closed, and the part that was open didn't see a thing. I could've waved a flag in front of her face, and she wouldn't have blinked. She was in another country, probably the first visit she'd made there in a long time.
"I like this," she cooed, sounding like some sort of lovebird. "Oooooooh . . . yesssss!"'
She came, rising off the chair, supporting her weight with her arms and worming her cunt over Tommie's face. He couldn't seem to get enough of her, and he crawled forward, sliding his arms around her waist and giving her a real tongue job. Her big body began to shake like a bowl of jelly, and I almost had to laugh at her. But she was getting it off, and that's all that mattered to her.
"A little more," she groaned. "Just a little more. Right there. That's it. Oooooooh, yesssss, Ohhhhh Tommie . . . "
Her hands grabbed his head and she worked him into her, moving his tongue around so that he was licking her right where she wanted it.
"Hey," I said. "How about giving me some of that?"
Tommie pulled his head out of her pussy and smiled. "Be my guest," he laughed.
I got up and walked toward her. She was drinking out of the wine bottle now, just pouring it down her throat. Her blouse was open, her big tits dangling like a couple of overripe melons. And then I didn't want to touch her, didn't want to be near her.
"What's the matter?" Tommie asked.
"Don't feel good, man."
'Too much wine?"
"Yeh, I guess so."
It wasn't the wine, of course. All of a sudden, what we were doing disgusted me. I mean, here was this woman, a grown woman, and we were going after her like a couple of mad dogs. It wasn't right, and I knew that we weren't right in the head for wanting to do it. There was something wrong, and I wasn't sure what I was going to do about it. So I let Tommie have her.
"Whassamatter with lover boy?" Eleanor asked.
"lie's sick," Tommie said. "But I ain't.. . "
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. They were on the bed now, and I sat staring at them as if I was sitting in a movie theater. I listened to the sounds they made, the whispers and the squeals. They had a hell of a good time, but I took a bad trip.
"Oooooh, fuck me!" I heard Eleanor gasp. "Fuck meeeeee!"
"Yehhhhh, baby," came Tommie's voice, cool as could be. "Yehhhhhhh . . . "
After they screwed, he talked her into sucking him off.
"But I never did nothin' like that before," she said.
"Don't worry about it, Mama," he said. "Just get down there and do what comes naturally."
He looked past her into the living room and saw me watching. "Hey, baby," he said. "Go get me another bottle of wine from the 'fridge, will-ya? This babe needs a little more gas . . . "
They both giggled, and when I got back with the wine, they were twined together like a couple of vines. Eleanor's mouth was over his cock, and he shoved it halfway down her throat, it seemed. She was digging it, her big ass quivering as he sucked her in turn. I didn't give them the bottle. I drank it myself. It was a wild scene. I conked out hearing their moans, and when I woke up, it was night. They were both gone, and I was sitting in the half light of the moon, the window shades up, wondering why I had been born. I moved out after that. I tried to get a girlfriend, but I couldn't bring myself to go after one. But I did manage to latch on to a couple more women. Shit, how sick can you be? I mean, what the hell am I gonna do when I grow up?
REMARKS: Philip's question is an interesting one, and the fact that he can ask it indicates that therapy may be very helpful to him. He seems willing to get to the root of his emotional disorders, with an innate honesty to aid him. As I have said, progress in psychotherapy depends on the patient's continuing good attitude, which can be improved with the assistance of the analyst. I expect to work with Philip for some time, and I also expect him to make fine progress. His problems can be resolved, and I think he is confident of this.
PATIENT: Jean B., Forty-five, saleswoman.
REMARKS: A good looking woman, Jean voluntarily came to me for help. Her experiences with boys developed during the past year. Her first session with me follows.
JEAN: I don't think it ever occurred to me until a year ago that I wanted a boy as a lover. After all, I was forty-four years old and had never had any sexual contact with boys. But on the other hand, my relationships with men have all been disastrous.
It was just after my second divorce that it happened. I was low on money, and since I'd never had a steady job or a profession before, I had to hustle around to find work. I was really down in the dumps, miserable. I'd wake up in the morning and feel disgusted, disappointed at being alive. I'd want to curl up and die, drift into an endless sleep.
(NOTE: As Jean says, she is certainly enveloped in a serious depression. She obviously is soured by her two marriages and feels great antipathy toward men. Her will to live has been undermined by her experiences, and she seeks a way in which she can revive her vitality.)
I looked around for work, for a way to make some money so I could pay the damn rent. I saw an advertisement in the paper about selling some kind of cosmetic line, and so I went down and applied for the job, which I subsequently got. And just in time, too. My bank balance was sinking fast, and the forty-five percent commission on whatever I sold was a nice cut.
I did okay, too. I was averaging nearly $175 a week after a couple of months. But I was still desperately unhappy. Not to mention sexually frustrated. I was masturbating heavily, but it wasn't very satisfying. I hated myself for it. It seemed like I wasn't healthy enough to get myself a man I could handle. I had to do something.
(NOTE, Jean speaks of "handling" men. Her fear of being hurt by a man is keeping her from finding one at this point in her life. She is ashamed to admit it, and it nags her. As a result, she decides to remedy the situation, but the remedy does not involve psychotherapy,-which constitutes the only healthy approach.)
I was banging on doors one day, and a boy answered my knocking. He was very handsome, really striking. In fact, he was so good-looking that I remember standing there in front of him simply staring at him, as if he were some kind of movie star.
"Hello," I said finally. "Is your mother home?"
He smiled at me, a beautiful, open smile. "Want to sell her some of that goo for her face, eh?"
"Yes, but it's not goo, you know. It's really."
"I know, I was only kidding. She'll be back in about fifteen minutes."
I stood there not knowing what to say. I didn't want to leave. I wanted to go inside and talk with him while I waited for his mother to return. He couldn't have been more than seventeen, and he seemed so fresh and innocent. I was intrigued by him.
"Well, would you mind if I waited inside? It's very hot today, and I feel a little weak.. . . "
I think that's what I said. I was so flustered, I just mumbled some reason, any reason, to get inside that house.
"Yeh, sure," he said, holding the screen door open for me.
I brushed by him and realized then that the kid was getting to me. He ushered me into the living room, and I sat down on this beautiful, crushed-velvet sofa. It felt so soft and cool, I didn't want to ever get up. I was tired, dog tired. I felt like a fool, tramping around the streets peddling cosmetics to women who took perverse joy in slamming their front doors in my face. I was sick of it, sick of my life.
"You want something to drink?" the boy asked.
"Yes, thanks," I said, not knowing exactly what he had in mind. "Juice, iced tea?"
"Uh, listen, what did you say your name was."
"It's Gary."
"Listen, Gary, would you mind very much if I asked you for a drink, I mean, some liquor?"
"Hell, no," he said. "But I don't know how to mix."
"That's all right. Just look for Scotch and pour it into a glass." lie rummaged around in his father's liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle. "This what you want?"
"That's the stuff," I said. "And pour yourself one too, why don't you?"
He grinned at me, and I saw his eyes drift over my body. I tensed, as if I were being judged. But he turned away abruptly, somewhat embarrassed that I had caught him staring at me, and I relaxed. Then it occurred to me that I was reacting to him as if he were a man. I told myself to play it cool, that he was more afraid of me than I was of him. Wild thoughts started shooting across my mind, thoughts about making it with him in bed. That really set me spinning.
"Why don't you sit here, next to me?" I asked him after he had handed me my drink and fell into a big chair on the other side of the room.
He got up and moved beside me.
"Will your mother spank you if she finds you -drinking her Scotch?" I said.
"Hah, I've had a few belts before. They, my parents, don't really give a damn what I do. They're messed up."
His candor startled me. "What do you mean, they're messed up?"
"They don't care about me. I could commit suicide and it would be all right with them as long as I made a clean job of it."
I laughed, but I felt sad, too. My unhappiness mingled with his, and I felt sorry for him. lie was too young to be so dejected about life.
"What about your friends?" I said.
"I got a couple, but we're not that close. I don't know why. I guess it's because I'm shy. I don't date much, and that keeps me from really getting tight with people. I stay by myself a lot."
"I did, too, when I was a girl. I do now."
He looked at me to see whether I was giving him a lot of baloney or whether I was serious, sincerely sympathetic.
"You're nice," he said. "I like you."
Again, his eyes did more than appraise my face, and I flushed with excitement. He was really a darling. I wanted to kiss him. So I did. I leaned toward him, sliding my right hand against his cheek, my lips easing against his. I wanted it to be hard and hot, but I made it gentle. I didn't want to scare him. His body stiffened, I could feel it, the way he kissed me.
"Don't worry," I said. "There's nothing to worry about."
And then I kissed him again. His body relaxed a little, but he was still too stiff. So I put a little soul into it, flicking my tongue into his mouth, then sucking on his lips. His breath came a little faster, and his hand gripped my arm.
"I love you," I said. "Don't be afraid. I love you.. . . "
(NOTE: This is an extraordinary remark, considering that Jean has known the boy approximately ten minutes. She badly wants affection from a male, and since she did not get it from either of her husbands, she approaches a boy. She knows that he, too, hungers for love, and she used her physical allure, which is considerable, to gain his favor.)
After I told him that I loved him, he got hot. He opened his mouth, and we let our tongues slide around together, teasing and toying. And then I took a chance. I let my hand drop to his lap, easing over his dick. I could feel its hardness right through his pants. And he felt big!
"Mmmmmmm, Gary, this is so nice," I murmured. "You're so sweet.. . "
"And you're beautiful," he said. "Really beautiful."
"Your mother, won't she be coming home soon?"
"I dunno. Lemme call her."
I gave him another kiss, and he took the phone receiver off the hook and dialed a number.
"She's at my aunt's," he explained. "She said she wouldn't be long, but once they get talking.. . "
I drained the rest of my drink, and the room swayed slightly. I was feeling good, kind of playful. I took his hand and put it on my breasts as he waited for someone to answer at the other end. His eyes grew large, and he licked his upper lip, smiling as his fingers kneaded my tit."
"Ummmmmm," I moaned. "Why don't you put it inside?"
He did. Lord, it felt good. I was so excited, I started unbuttoning my blouse, then unsnapped my bra. My tits flopped out, and I thought he was going to become speechless on the phone. I giggled, and he caught himself, asking his aunt how long his mother was going to stay at her house.
"Tell her to stay," I whispered. "We got a lot to do before she gets back."
I thought he was going to drop the phone and fuck me right there. I didn't blame him. I mean, I had just come off the street and hopped in his lap. If I were he, I'd have come in my pants by that time. I started unsnapping my skirt. I really wanted to tease him. And I think he liked the idea. His mother was on the phone now, and he continued talking to her as I stripped off my clothes.
"Yeh, Mom, if he calls I'll tell him. Right, four o'clock. Right. . . "
I was nude by then, sitting in his lap. I put his hand between my legs, and he wriggled his fingers into my cunt, the first cunt he had ever touched. I was so hot, I came the instant he touched me. I writhed in his lap, working my ass on his cock, and his mother must've thought he was ill. He was breathing heavily, wheezing as if he were dying. I spread my legs and leaned back. He slid one long finger into my pussy, and I squirmed around on it, getting one orgasm after another as he finger fucked me.
"Listen, Mom, I gotta go now. I wanna see a show on TV. All right? Okay. Yeh, see you later."
He slammed the phone back on the cradle and kissed me hard. He was a little high, too, and his inhibitions dropped away.
"Jesus, You're so wet.. . "
Damn right I was wet! I was sopping! He worked me up good, real good.
"Wanna use something else besides that finger?" I asked him.
He didn't answer. He just eased me off his lap onto the sofa. Then he stood up and took his clothes off, pulling and tugging at them. He looked funny, rushing to get undressed so he could fuck me, the first fuck of his young life. And it would be mine, too. Sure, I'd been screwed before, but it was never as much fun as this.
"C'mon, hurry," I said, teasing. "Before somebody comes and finds us."
He pushed me back on the couch, laid me out for a fine fucking. I took his dick in my hand and rubbed it against the lips of my pussy. He grunted like a boar, and when I shoved it in my cunt, he nearly flipped.
"Wow, ahhhhhhhh . . . Oh man, that feels great?'
I swiveled my hips, revolving my pussy around his cock. No one ever told me I was a bad lay, and I was using everything I knew to give Gary the time of his life. I didn't want him to ever forget this one, never ever.
I mean to tell you that boy filled me with a quart. He unloaded, and I sucked every drop out of him. You should have heard him moan and groan. You'd think he hated it, the way he screeched. I loved every second, and when his sperm gushed into me, I went off, bam, bam, bam! It was wonderful, like nothing I'd ever experienced. I had come before with a man, but it had never been so intense, so fulfilling.
"I oughta tell you that this was my first time," Gary said to me when we were done.
"I know."
"You do?"
"It was written all over your face. And besides, I told you I was like you when I was young. I was a virgin when I married, at twenty-two."
"Oh, yeh? Well, I'm a virgin no longer! Gimme a kiss. . . . "
He tried to pull his mouth to mine, but I eluded him. I wasn't finished giving him all he could take. I wanted to exhaust him, drain him.
"I'll kill you, honey," I whispered. "But not on the lips. It's unsanitary."
I kissed his belly, then slid down his abdomen. I think he knew what I was after, 'cause his click started to twitch, as if it had a mind all its own.
"C'mon, lover," I moaned. "Get it up. That's right. Nice and big. Gimme a nice, fat dick to suck. . . . "
Well, that prick swelled as if he were inflating it with a pump. I took it between my fingers and kissed the tip of it, letting my tongue slide over the head, Wet-red and swollen. He gasped and lifted his hips, trying to drive it into my mouth. I let it go in and he sighed, a contented sound that made me want to bite that cock right off at the root.
"Oooooooh, that's terrific!" he said. "Man, oh, man!"
I sucked that boy as if it were my job. Lord, but I sucked cock until it came out my cars. I couldn't get enough of him. He came a couple of times, and me with him. And then, when his dick hung like it would never rise again, I got another idea.
"Tell me, Gary, did you enjoy that?"
"Enjoy it? Baby, that would be the understatement of my life!"
I giggled. He was so cute!
"Well, then, you know that men can do something to women that's just like what I did for you?"
He gazed at me, smiling, very coy. He knew what I wanted, but I think he wanted me to come right out and ask him for it.
"You mean," he said, his fingers toying with my pussy, "with my mouth?"
"Yes, dear, with your mouth . . . "
"Okay. We'll try it. But I never did anything like . . "
"Don't worry," I said. "I'll tell you what to do."
I shoved his head down and he stuck his face between my legs. Lord, that boy was a born punt cater! He sucked pussy as if he'd been tutored all his life by some oversexed whore. It was marvelous!
"Yesssss, suck it, Gary. Eat it for me, please, just eat it and don't stop. Not for anything. Even if Mommy comes in the door, don't stop, pleeeeeeease!"
Well, Mommy didn't come in the door, and Cary didn't stop eating. I could hear him grunting and gasping, his mouth scraping against my clitoris.
"Yes, my clit! Suck my clit! The nub! Yessssss, that's it!"
His tongue wormed against my clit, and I came like I'd never come before, with his mouth doing things to me that I'd never dreamed could happen. I pulled his face out of there, gripping him by the hair.
"You're lovely. So lovely . . . "
He grinned, his mouth and chin and cheeks slick with come.
"I ain't finished yet," he said. "I dig this.. . . "
And he went right back to work, his tongue wriggling into my vagina. After he tired of that, I turned him around and got on top of him, riding his dick, my hips jerking and twisting as he bucked that beautiful dick into me. The bottle was right next to me, and I took a few swigs of booze every once in a while to keep my burners going. By the time I left him, his burners were dead, stone dead.
"Listen, I gotta see you again!" he said as I headed for the door.
"Nothing doing. You want to get me into trouble with your mom?"
I was kidding him, in a way. I really didn't want to see him because I figured it was the thrill of that first time that made it all work. I mean, if I let him get to know me real well, I might end up in the same muddle I eventually slid into with my husbands.
(NOTE: And so, even with her youthful lover, Jean lacks the confidence to permit him anything more than several hours of intercourse. She is living out a dream in which she enjoys a young male sexually, a male whose inexperience and naivete allow her the upper hand in the brief relationship. At this point in her life, she cannot allow even a boy but a fleeting glimpse at her soul. She is desperately afraid of being destroyed.)
After that day with Gary, I was determined to find another lover, if you could call him that. And then I met Jeffrey. It was nearly the same kind of relationship I had had with Gary, except that Jeffrey was my sister's son. I hadn't seen her for years, my younger sister Ann, and when she arrived in town to visit, I was shocked to see that young Jeff had grown into a good-sized boy of sixteen.
"Jeff, this is your aunt Jean," Ann said, and I wanted to clout her. She made me feel too old.
"Hello, Jeff," I said. "My, but you're a handsome boy. All the girls must love you."
"None of that for my son," Ann said. "He's too young for girls."
I glanced at Jeff, and by the sour look he gave his mother, I guessed he didn't agree with her.
"We'll talk later, Jeff," I said, and I made sure we did.
Ann stayed at my apartment, and when she went out shopping the next day, I didn't bother going out on the street hawking my cosmetic line. I looked for Jeff. He was asleep in the big bed, his face beautiful in repose, as if he were a model. I was envious of my sister. I always wanted a child, and I'd have loved to give birth to a boy who turned out as handsome as Jeffrey.
"Rise and shine, gorgeous," I teased, pulling him by the arm.
He rolled over and muttered something about it being too early for rising and much too early for shining. He was only partially awake, drifting back into sleep. I looked down and saw that his dick was erect, the tip of it protruding through his pajama bottoms. He was well developed, and I watched my hand slide onto him, fondling his dick. He moaned, then opened his eyes. He looked as if he'd seen a ghost.
"Aunt Jean! What-"'
"Your mother told me to wake you up any way I could," I lied. "But-"
"I think you're right, though. It is a little early to be crawling out of bed."
I let my nightgown drop off my shoulders, and his eyes widened as he stared at my tits. He was still half-asleep, and I think he believed for a moment that he was dreaming.
"Let me slide in next to you," I said. "I'm used to this bed. Usually, I sleep in it."
I pulled the covers back and crawled in next to him. I let my hand go to his cock again, and his body jerked as if I'd hit him.
"Aunt Jean?"
"Yes, Jeffrey?"
"I don't think we should be doing this, do you?"
I must say I felt somewhat insulted. I mean, if I were a boy and a woman hopped inside my bed, I wouldn't try to persuade her to leave.
"You don't think this is right?" I said to him, nuzzling his neck.
"Well, I mean, I. . . "
I had the entire length of his dick in my hand now, and I worked the taut skin over the shaft, listening to his breathing become hoarse. I knew I had him. I moved real close to him, so that my tits could rub against him.
"Do you want me to go away?" I asked.
"Yes," he said. "Yes . . . "
Another shocker. Well, I wasn't going to give up that easy. So the kid was a little shy. I'd make up for that, convince him that nothing bad was going to happen to him.
"Did your mother ever tell you about sex?" I asked him. "About the birds and the bees?"
"Sure. I know about that."
"You do?"
"Sure . . . "
I gripped his dick and squeezed. He grunted, and I thought he was going to come. His body was squirming around on the bed ever so slightly, and I don't think he even realized it. lie was just scared, too scared to do what he re-ally wanted to do, too scared to make love to me.
"If you know all about it, Jeffrey, what are you waiting for?"
"She might come back . . . "
"No, she's gone for several hours. I just saw her out the door."
"Are you certain?"
"Positive. Now, kiss me. . .
His arms slid around me, and his tongue worked its way into my mouth. I could hardly believe I was seducing my sister's son right in my own bed. It was lovely, sweet revenge on the bitch. I'd always despised her, much more than I cared to admit to myself. I mean, one shouldn't hate their sister, not for any good reason. She always got more attention than I did from our parents, but that's no reason to do what I was doing to her son. But I was damn well enjoying it. I read somewhere that every mother secretly wants to have intercourse with her son. Well, I was taking rare of business for my little sister. Christ, if only she knew how sweet it was! s
"Oh, Aunt Jean! You're so soft and smooth! I've been watching you, you know. Did you know that?"
A pleasant surprise.
"No, I didn't, Jeffrey. Do you like me?"
"I think you're great, really sexy. Last night, I jerked off thinking about you!"
The kid was as crazy as me!
(NOTE: Jean makes several interesting observations. First, she acknowledges that she intensely dislikes her sister, whom she believes her family favored over her. This helps explain why she became emotionally disturbed, adding to her earlier statements that her mother and father did not care about her.
Because she feels her sister was loved, at her expense, she is all the more frustrated. If both she and her sister had been unloved, Jean could easily have condemned her parents as incapable of caring about their offspring. But when her sister receives affection, Jean can only surmise that her parents consciously seek to hurt her, and this makes her more bitter, more desperate.
Second, she acknowledges that she is emotionally disturbed, when she notes that the boy "was as crazy as me." She realizes that her psyche is damaged and that she is tortured by serious problems. As a result, she is in better condition to help herself through therapy. She does not attempt to fool herself, but at that point in her life in which she seduced her nephew, she is unable to control her impulses.
"What did you think about when you were masturbating?" I asked him.
"I imagined I was . . . fucking you."
"Show me," I gasped.
I could hardly breathe. My lungs seemed to resist my efforts to draw in air. The kid really turned me on!
"Like this," he said, crawling on top of me. "I imagined I was on you. . . . "
I opened my legs and grabbed his dick.
"Oh, what are you doing!" he cried. "Oh, Aunt Jean!"
I stuffed his cock into my pussy, and he nearly started to cry. For a moment, I thought he would, but his face just twisted, the lines contorted as I eased my cunt over his young dick. I didn't want to scare him by really giving him a run for his money, so I stopped moving. I just lay there, with his dick inside me, his face nestled in the softness of my tits.
"Do you like it?" I asked him. "Do you like having vour thing inside me?"
"Yessss, it feels marvelous. So warm and wet . . . "
"Why don't you push it further in? That's it. Oooooh. Now, pull it out. Yes, ohhhhh, doesn't that feel wonderful? That's what you were thinking about doing to me when you masturbated last night, wasn't it?"
"Yes. And other things . . . "
"What? Don't be afraid. Tell me.. . . "
"I wanted to kiss your breasts."
I took a handful of tit and held it up to his mouth. "Like this?"
He opened wide, and I shoved it in his mouth. As soon as I felt his tongue caress my nipple, I climaxed. It wasn't really powerful, just a juicy, hot orgasm that made me lick my lips in anticipation of what was coming next.
"Ohhhh, yesssss, Jeffrey. That's right. You're doing it just right. Suck it, ohhhhh, suck Aunt Jean's sweet tit for her, mmmmmmm!"
I couldn't stop coming. It was as if a steady stream of it was oozing out of me. I started twitching my hips, so that my pussy would slide over his prick. And then he picked it up, pistoning his dick through me.
"Ohhhh, Aunt Jean! Ohhhhh, mmmmmm . . . "
We fucked like a couple of animals, working ourselves up to the breaking point. And then he came, streams of semen spurting into me. I swear, I nearly died. I arched my back, and he powered that dick of his right to the core of my soul. We must have been screaming at the top of our lungs, because I heard a dull roar reverberating in my ears. But we didn't realize it because we were in another world. And then Ann was in the room, flailing at us, yanking at Jeffrey.
ISO
"Stop it!" she shrieked. "God in heaven, stop it!"
But Jeffrey wouldn't get off me. I don't think he even realized what he was doing, fucking me in front of his mother, but he continued jerking his prick into me. Finally, Ann rolled him off me.
"I'm going to call the police!" she yelled at me. and I saw red.
"No you're not," I said, sliding off the bed to grab the telephone receiver from her hand. "You're going to join us. You're going to give Jeffrey, sweet Jeffrey, some of what I've been giving him. Isn't that right, Jeffrey?"
The boy was lying on the bed, looking as if he was working out a hangover.
"Jeffrey!" I screamed, and he sat up.
"Jean, Jean!" Ann was yelling. "What are you doing?"
I hit her, hard. My fist cracked against the side of her face, and she went down as if she'd been hit with a bag of bricks. I smiled, pleased with my own strength.
"Go get the wine that's in the refrigerator," I told Jeffrey. "Your mother wants to have a party . . . "
He looked at me as if he didn't believe his ears. Then he gave me that idotic grin, and I realized that there was truly something wrong with the boy, with his brain.
"A party?" he said, almost gleefully. "And with Mom? Gee, that's great!"
"Well, bring me the wine, like I told you. . . . "
And suddenly I was afraid. What was happening? What was I doing?
"I got something better than that," Jeffrey said, that sly grin creasing his face.
He got up and looked through his suitcase, finally extracting a small package wrapped in aluminum foil. When he unwrapped the foil, I stared stupidly at what looked to be pipe tobacco.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Pot!" he said. "You know, marijuana."
I stepped closer, wondering whether this boy might prove altogether too much for me.
"Where in the world did you get it?"
"At school. Everybody's got some. I just saved up my money, stealing a little here and there from Mom, and I had enough to get an ounce. This is all that's left, though. I smoked most of it. I smoke almost every day. When I jerked off last night, thinking about you, I was high. I still am. It takes a long time to wear off. You can feel it the next day. It's really good stuff. Here, try some . . . "
He pulled a package of cigarette paper out from beneath a shirt in the suitcase and rolled me one. As I took it, I heard Ann groan, and I wanted to kick her. How almighty she acted, and here she was with a fucked-up kid who used dope! Hah! That was choice! Who the hell did she think she was, treating me all the time as if there was something wrong with me?
"Here, light up," Jeffrey said, putting a match to the tip of my reefer.
I sucked hard, like he told me, and held the fumes in my lungs, like he told me. After a few drags, I began feeling giddy. I started giggling, staring at Ann as she struggled to get to her feet. Her eyes were glassy, and she looked comical, trying to pull herself together. I pushed her onto the bed. I felt strong, and when Jeffrey laughed, I knew I was in control.
"Hurry up and finish," he said, taking a last drag on his joint, "so we can fuck again. . . . "
We got on the bed, pulling Ann onto it with us.
"She's too sober," Jeffrey said. "She's no fun."
"Listen, is my sister really your mother? I mean, really."
"Of course."
"Really?"
"Well, I'm adopted. . . . "
"Adopted! She never told me!"
"Well, she told me enough times!"
His eyes flashed, and I realized that she had made life as miserable for him as my parents had for me.
"And you hate her?" I said.
"Hah. I just want to fix her wagon, that's all."
"All right. Go get the wine. We'll pour it into her."
We did just that, amid a lot of coughing and hacking. She came alive for a few moments, and I took great delight in giving her another crack. Soon, she was as drunk as we were high. But I liked the pot high better. It made me feel even sexier. I didn't think about the consequences of what I was perpetrating. I just went ahead and did exactly as I pleased. It tickled me.
"She's got a great body, don't she?" Jeffrey asked.
"Yeh," I said, pulling her dress off. "Very nice. Better than I thought. She kept her shape over the years."
The next thing I knew, he was on me, working his dick into my pussy while his mother groaned like she was dying, her head tilted toward us as she lay there next to us.
"Ohhh, fuck me, Jeffrey! This is it! This is really it!"
He did the job, jamming his dick into me as far as it would go, which was a considerable distance. As I said before, he was extremely well developed. I wondered who his father was. Some local stud, probably. Well, his son would follow in his footsteps; I had seen to that.
The kid really unloaded, and we rocketed to our little place somewhere in the heavens. It was so sweet, I want to cry just remembering it. I'll never feel so wonderful again. Not now.
"Let's do it again," he said after a few minutes had passed.
"Damn, you are a stud, aren't you?"
And then it hit me. "Listen," I whispered. "I'm tired. You gonna have to find yourself another woman. . . . "
He looked at me, and I smiled, letting my eyes drift toward his mother.
"Okay," he chirped. "That won't be too hard."
And then he was moving toward her, his dick swelling with excitement. I shoved my hand between my legs and started working on my pussy. I couldn't believe my eyes; my sister's son was about to fuck her. Make love to her. Screw her. However you want to put it. I watched him position his dick at the lips of her vagina. He spread her legs, and one draped over the edge of the bed, nearly causing her to slide to the floor. He cursed and got her ready, climbing on top of her, his breathing thick and labored, as if frightened, scared. But he got it into her, the tip of his cock, and then he jerked his hips and his dick plowed into her. I flicked my finger against my clitoris, teasing myself as I watched him fuck his mother.
"That's it, Jeffrey," I heard myself groan. "Give it to her good.. . . "
And then something happened that shocked hell out of me. Ann's arms went around his neck, her legs spreading farther apart to allow him greater access to her cunt. She was responding! Incredible! Did she realize the man she was loving was her own son, a mere boy? She couldn't have. She must have been drunk, out of her mind. Her husband had died several years earlier, and if I knew my sister, she hadn't allowed a man to touch her since that day. She must've been horny as hell, and the wine made her do what she would have considered nightmarish if she were sober. And Jeffrey really dug it!
I started to come, and I slid my finger over my clit, heightening the sensation. Well, you know how women masturbate, Doc. I just abandoned myself to what I was feeling, the excitement of it. And when I finished coming, I sat there watching them screw. Jeffrey was about to orgasm, and I watched his face burrow between his mother's tits, sucking at her thick nipples. And then I felt sick. I retched, twisting off the bed to lie on the floor in my own puke. The image of them coupling, their bodies slapping together as they fucked, flashed across my mind, and I wanted to die. I thought I was going mad, and I think I might have if I didn't throw up my guts.
"Aunt Jean, what's the matter?" I heard Jeffrey ask.
I guess that's why I came here. I want to know what's the matter with me, Doc. I got to know, or else I'm gonna kill myself, I swear it. I can't keep living like I've been living."
REMARKS: As I noted, this was Jean's first session with me. She will continue in therapy, also taking medication as I have had prescribed by a physician. Her emotions are at the breaking point, and her case must be handled delicately. Her sister has declined to press charges against her, providing that she remain in my care.
PATIENT: Paul H., eighteen, musician. REMARKS: None.
PAUL: Freaky, that's what this is. I mean, what the hell am I doing messin' with some headshrinker who never saw me before in his or my life? I know why. Because I'm insane or, to put it mildly, cuckoo. I'm a mad cartoon gone berserk. I'm crazy cat, off on a tangent. I'm a wild circus pitching a tent in the mucous of the mind.
All right, Doctor. Herr Doctor! I know, I know. Quit jabbering like monkey and get to the real nitty gritty. The heavy stuff. How long have I been feeding you this bullshit; about four sessions, right? Okay, so I'll be honest. I'll tell the truth. Will the Real Paul H. please tell the goddamn truth? Well, the truth is, my name is Ricardo Montalban and I wish I were a pool hustler. But in sincerity, I was born the fourth son in a family of eight. My father was a bastard, as my mother often reminded him, and altogether we were very unhappy, altogether. Except for the fact that my mother used to like to play with my prick. I guess that's why I'm fucked up. Hah! Yeh, it's the truth. I used to sit in the bathtub, and she'd wash me, giggling over my little dick.
"Look at your wienie!" she'd say. "Look how cute it is."
"And I'd say, lemme have a Scotch and water!
(NOTE: In his bravado, Paul attempts to underplay his unhappiness, joking about things that are actually a source of much sadness: His early family life was obviously disappointing, with his mother acting out her frustrations by toying with the boy's penis, teasing him by drawing attention to his budding manhood. As a result, he feels self-conscious sexually, which can lead him to feel unsure of himself as he develops into a man.)
I kept to myself when I was young, if that's possible when you're only one of eight kids. When a friend of mine started learning how to play the guitar, I picked it up from him, studying with him when he returned from his lessons. Soon, we had our own group, and soon, we turned onto the drug scene. I didn't mess much with girls, although Junior, my partner, dug them. I just took my little trips all alone, usually listening to music as I swam through the morass of my soul, high as the kite that everybody talks about. And then I met Helga.
"Well, who's this, Arnold?"
I was in the office of The Greasy Spoon, a club owned by a guy named Arnold Wangler. We both turned to the sound of the voice, and I saw this broad with a body that would have made a monk drool, which isn't surprising since monks are traditionally horny people. Well, she came inside and we talked the talk, and I found out that she was married to Arnold, which wasn't hard because the first thing he said to me was did I want to meet his wife, which I did, very badly. After we finished striking a bargain for a three-month hitch at The Greasy Spoon, I wandered out to the bar, where Grace sat. Grace is Arnold's wife, if you know what I mean.
"Hello, Paul," she smiled. "Why don't you join me for a drink?"
I thought that was very nice of her, since she was married and all. And then it occurred to me that she was unhappily married and that she wanted a youthful lover to take care of the business that Arnold was letting slide. And there I was, eighteen years old and full of the juice of life, come to be exact, which I would love to deposit in her fluffy vagina. I decided to make a play for her. I screwed up my best John Garfield attitude, full of cool fury, and let fly.
"Listen, why don't we get out of here?"
"Why?" she said, sipping her gin and hair tonic. "I just got here. Besides, my husband owns the joint and I can drink free. Why don't we drink all we can hold and then leave? We'll go to your place. My husband wouldn't like it if he found you in my bed, and I was in it, too."
I suppose I just sat there staring into the mirror of the bar wondering whether anything like that had ever happened to John Garfield. I doubted it.
"Lemme have another rum and Coke," I told the bartender.
"Where's the money for the first one?" he asked me.
"I'm with her," I said, pointing to Mrs. Arnold Wangler.
"Never saw him before," she said, which was the ho nest-to-god, down-to-earth truth.
"Okay, bub," the bartender opined. "Beat it . . . "
I got up, and she slid off her bar stool and out we went together.
"You didn't think I'd let you go tonight, did you?" she asked when we got outside. "C'mon, get in the car. . . . "
I got in the car. After all, that was what she told me to do, and I aim to please. Besides, I wanted to fuck her. I also wanted to stick my face between her sweet thighs and eat her pussy like I was dining out.
We zipped down some deserted highway until we got to her deserted house, which we immediately occupied by going straight to the bedroom. I took off my pants and took out my dick. She took off her dress and took out her pussy, which she handed me. Naturally, none of this happened, except for the fact that I found myself lying on satin sheets sucking her velvet pussy. She was coming like she'd never stop, and I didn't intend to let her. I stuck my tongue as far into her slit as it would go, letting it wiggle so that she started moaning like I had poisoned her.
"Ohhhhh, nooo," she said. "That's too much!"
"Yehhhh, baby, let it all out!"
At that point, my dick told me that it could no longer wait for what it had never before experienced, mainly, to be deep inside a woman's pussy. I was a virgin-a very knowledgeable Virgin, it's true, but still a virgin.
"C'mon," I said to her, pushing her legs apart. "I wanna get it in. . . . "
She giggled, and her legs went wide open, like the great gates of somewhere. I moved my dick until it was just right and pushed. It went into the sheet.
"Damn, I fucked that up!"
She laughed, but she didn't bother to help me. I wanted to stick the thing in her mouth. And then that idea seemed even better. Let her oil it up for me. I crawled over her, until my prick was pointing straight at her mouth.
"Open wide," I said. "Here it comes!"
Now, you know I was pretty well tanked up to make a statement like that. But she didn't mind the idea I had in mind, and all of a sudden I found myself fucking my dick between her lips. Her fingers went around me, and she worked it into her mouth like she was sucking candy. I felt my dick throb, and I thought I was gonna come for sure, which didn't upset me much. But she pushed it out of her mouth, her saliva dripping over her tits.
"Now fuck me!"
I did as ordered. And this time she gave me a little help, putting my dick right at the pearly gates. And in I went.
She was a sexy hitch, and I fucked her as good as I could. I hadn't had much experience, hut she taught me, gave me a real cram lesson, if you don't mind the pun.
"Just work it in there easy, very easy.. . . "
I eased it into her, then withdrew it, and I could feel the lips of her cunt take hold of me and damn near suck the come out of me. Lord, hut that bitch had a talented cunt.
"Baby! Oh, baby, baby, baby . . . "
I was babbling like a lunatic.
"Yessssss, oh honey!" she yelped.
She jerked her ass off the bed and twisted against me, driving it onto my cock like she wanted to kill me.
"Come now!" she said. "Come now, with me! Oh pleaaaaaaase!"
Like I said, I aim to please, and so I let it fly. My mind catapulted to some region of space it had never occupied before, and I gnawed my teeth like a beaver, driving my dick into her as hard as I could. It felt so good it almost hurt. You ever have a fuck like that, Doc? I mean, you almost want to stop because it feels as though you're going to disintegrate if von keep it up much longer.
"That was wonderful," she cooed when we were through. "You fuck good."
"That was my first time.. . . "
"Oh, come on . . . "
"No, I mean it. The very first."
"Well, what are you telling me for?"
A good question. I guess I wanted her to know that she had given me something special, which hadn't happened often in my life.
"I want you to do one more thing before you go," she said.
"What?"
"Fuck me again. I love doing it with you. You're so young, so handsome. My husband is a washout, dried up and impotent. I swear, youth is the only salvation for women like me. I can't get enough of it."
I had hoped that I was her first boy, I mean, the first young man she had made it with. Guess I was getting romantic in my old age.
"Okay, baby," I said, not feeling too sexy about the whole thing at that point. "Let's do it again. . . . "
I got ready to screw my dick into her pussy, but she pushed me away.
"No, not in there," she said. "In here . . . "
She turned over, her ass sticking in my face. I thought she was kidding; I never heard of such a thing. I thought only faggots did it that way.
"What are you waiting for?"
"You mean, you want me to . . . ? "
"C'mon, honey. Don't let me down now. Oooooh, please. It'll feel so goooood . . . "
I pried the cheeks of her ass apart and got on my knees. She reached back and grabbed my dick, moistening it with saliva.
"Just do it like you were fucking it into my pussy," she said. "You'll dig it. It's groovy . . . "
Yeh, groovy.
"Okay, baby. Up, up, and away." I moved behind her, working my dick into her anus. She was a little tight, but the more I pushed, the looser she got. All of a sudden, my cock was in up to the hilt, and I was fucking her in the ass. I was really turned on, too, squeezing her tits as I worked it through her. As for her, she was outa sight. Squirming and screaming like I was murdering her. Her asshole must've been enormous, to take my dick all the way. I thought it would hurt her more than anything, and she told me later that there was a lot of pain, but that at a certain point the pleasure principle took over and she shot up onto cloud nine.
"Yesssss, fuck it into me, lover," she said. "Ummmmm, that's my baby!"
She knew what she wanted, I'll say that. She took my dick and gave herself one hell of a good time with it. Her ass was as good as her cunt, as far as what she could do with it. In fact, it was even better. She could tighten her muscles, contract them so that my dick was squeezed until I thought I was gonna faint. It felt great, though. She really took me on a trip, and when we both couldn't stand it any more, I shot it into her ass. She leaned forward, her face buried in a pillow, her buttocks spread as wide as they could spread.
"Will I see you again?" I asked her at the door.
"Do you want to?"
"No."
"Well, then?"
I left, wondering why T said such crazy things. Sure, I wanted to see her again, but I didn't want to beg her for it. She had to give me a little warmth, a little affection. I mean, that's reasonable, ain't it? I worked hard the next couple of months, and the band did okay. We were getting a lot of attention, mainly because we were a freaky group and we could play. That's a good combination. I should have been happy, but I wasn't.
I thought I'd begin to dig girls, but they still left me cold, or I should say, cool. I made it with a couple groupies that followed us around, but it was nothing like that night with Grace. They were stupid chicks, and it just wasn't exciting enough. I managed to get it up for them, which I was always afraid I wouldn't be able to do with a girl. But as for really enjoying sex, I didn't. They just didn't turn me on like Mrs. Arnold Wangler had.
And then I met Martha. She was about forty, and she was a maid at one of the joints we stayed at overnight. I slept late the next morning, and when I woke up, she was coming in the door. I was naked, lying in bed with my dick hanging out like an eleventh finger.
"Mornin', " she said, letting the door close behind her. "Got to clean up . . ."
She was damned good-looking, thin but with nice-sized tits and flaring hips. And her legs looked good. I spotted the marriage ring on her finger and guessed that she had a couple of kids. And suddenly, I was excited by her. I wanted her. I'd made it with a couple of groupies the night before, but my dick was jumping around like I hadn't had a pussy near me in months.
"Don't cover up," she said. "I like watching boys play with themselves."
I turned slightly pink, realizing that I was fondling my cock right in front of her. But I didn't bother pulling the sheet over it.
"You one of them musicians?" she asked, running the water in the bathroom sink.
"Yeah, that's what I am, all right. . . . "
"Those girls that came out of your room this morning, they friends of yours?"
"No, they, just put themselves at my disposal."
"Is that so?"
"Yep."
"You like young stuff, eh? Sure you do."
"Not always. What about you? You like young stuff?"
The conversation was weird, as if we were talking to each other in our dreams. But I decided to let it unravel. I wanted to see what would happen. I figured she was kidding me, mocking me. But if she wasn't, we were gonna have a good time.
"I asked you whether you liked young stuff," I said.
Upon repetition, the question embarrassed me. I thought she might get mad and try to castrate the freaked-out hippie ass with a dust mop or something.
"Not especially."
Well, that took care of that. I got out of bed and put on my pants. We had to play that night, but I wasn't in the mood. I felt tired, dead tired, even though I had gotten plenty of sleep the night before.
I realized then that I was bored, sick of my life. What the hell was I doing, anyway, running around the country trying to make it as a hot-shot rock musician? Who the hell makes it big, really? Just a handful of guys. I wasn't going to be one of them, I knew. I didn't have anything special going for me. I felt nauseous, disgusted.
The maid came out of the bathroom. "Oh, you put your pants on," she said. "Too bad."
She headed for the door, and I told her to wait a minute. I had to find out what was happening. She could shatter my mind with that kind of talk. I mean, I dug her. If she wanted to fuck, fine. I was in the mood for her, that's for sure. That sweet ass of hers looked good enough to eat, and I wanted to get my hands on those tits, too.
"Just come to my room tonight instead of this one," she said. "It's on the top floor, number six."
She left me standing there staring at the door. I figured she was nutty, but the prospect of making it with her livened up the day. I played the gig feeling good, smoking a lot so that I could really tret into a groove. I followed our drummer, and he took me down this wild path, falling off as I hit my high. It was nice, the kind of thing guys lust after when they're playing every night. It can get pretty tedious, night after night. And then I smoked another joint backstage and went to the hotel.
"Come on in," she said when I rapped on her door.
I went inside, and she handed me a glass of wine. Yeh, wine. It was sweet-tasting, and I dug it. We sat down on the living-room couch, and I gave her a close look. She was damn sexy, a real piece. She caught me staring at her, and I reached over and pulled her to me. Her mouth opened, and we sank into tin's fantastic soul kiss, a real French that lasted about three hours, it seemed. Mv dick was like a piece of iron, and I wanted to fuck her so bad, I would have begged her for it on my hands and knees.
"Listen," I said. "I got some pot in my room. You want some?"
"Okay. Go get it. I'll get ready for you."
I finished off the wine and played around with her a little more. She was fantastically hot, climbing into my lap to suck on my tongue, her thighs parting so I could work my fingers into her pussy. She had blonde hair, and I really dig blondes. They look evil, mean. Shit, she turned me on!
"Hurry back," she said, sliding off me. "I've got something I want to show you."
I didn't bother asking what it was. Her eyes looked wild, and I got the feeling I was in for a new experience. If it was half as good as it had been with Grace, I'd be eternally grateful. I went back to my room and rolled three reefers, smoking one so that I could get real high. I wanted to be way up there, so I could really enjoy dear Martha. Then I went to her room. When I got inside, we smoked the other nil ers. I was just about to get down to business, when she pulled away.
"Into the bedroom, love," she said. "We gotta do this proper. Besides, I've got a present for you."
I followed her into her bedroom, and there on the bed was this wicked-looking whip and a pair of boots, real high ones and black.
"What the hell is this?" I said. "Listen, I don't dig the whipping scene at all. It hurts too much."
She laughed and handed me the stuff. "Put the boots on," she said. "And don't worry. Nobody's going to hurt you."
Well, I was up in the sky to start with, and since it didn't look like that whip would be laid across my back, I yanked the boots on.
"No, no," she said, peeling off her nightgown. 'Take your clothes off first."
I looked at her real close, but I don't know what I was looking for, really. I mean, everything she said told me she was freaky. What more evidence could I want? So I hustled out of my clothes and put the boots back on. When I stood up, I felt like an idiot, but the expression on her face told me she dug it.
"Mmmmm," she said. "You look positively luscious. Now take the whip."
I picked it up and snapped it a couple of times. It was a mean mother, with rawhide lashes. It was the real thing, and I guessed that it could raise a fierce welt with the right touch. And then the scene started to get to me. My dick was standing straight out, and I must've been about six-foot-four in those boots. She lay back on the bed, her legs draped over the edge.
"Co ahead," she whispered, so soft I could hardly hear her. "Beat me.. . . " , Her body twisted like she was in heat, and I could hear her breathing quicken, become real heavy. I raised the whip, then let it snap across her belly. She moaned, and I hit her again, then again.
"Harder," she demanded, spitting the words out. "Hit me harder. Harder, dammit! What the hell's the matter with you? You want me to take that whip and show you how? Do it!"
That pissed me off, and some sadistic strain deep in me took over. I wanted to kill her, I really did. And I thought I would, the way that whip was cracking across her body. She turned over on her stomach, and I beat her ass, sending the lashes slashing across her buttocks. She had a sweet ass, and I beat it until it was as red as red can be.
"On your back!" I yelled. "Get on your back, bitch! Turn over!"
She rolled over, and I laid that whip right across her pussy. I thought she was gonna go through the damn roof. She really freaked out. I could see the nub of her clitoris, swollen and pink. Lord, but she was hot!
"You dig this, eh?" I shouted, whipping her tits. "You love this shit?"
She didn't answer. She was too far into it. I dropped the whip and crawled onto the bed, forgetting about the boots. I jammed my dick into her, and we both hopped on the trolley and took a trip. And she was good, too. Nice and juicy, with those big tits between my teeth and those hips churning up against me.
"Ohhhhhhh, yessssss," she hissed, and I lost myself in her, pounding against her, my mind off somewhere in a distant place, searing hot and happy.
I spent the night with her. We fucked ourselves silly, me going back to my room for more pot and drinking more wine. It was absolutely immoral, the way we behaved, and I loved it. She dug being beaten, and I dug beating her. She didn't want me to take the boots off, either.
Seems as though it put the finishing touches on her little scene.
I saw her a couple more times before we split for Cleveland. We were playing for a couple weeks there, and it was there that I met Ginger. She was beautiful, young and sweet, real sweet. I found that I could tell her my problems, tell her anything that was on my mind, and she'd listen and understand. I fell in love with her. And I married her. But it didn't work. I came home one day, and she was out.
"She just went out to the store for a while," her mother told me. "She asked me if I'd look after you."
Now, her mother was somethin' else, you see, and I found myself looking at her as if she were somebody else other than my mother-in-law. She returned the gaze, and I had to go fix myself a drink to keep from going over and giving her a fat kiss on the mouth.
"Want a drink?" I asked her.
"Sure. Bourbon. On the rocks."
I handed her the drink, and she raised her glass, wanting to perform some sort of toast. I looked down at her, at her tits nearly falling out of her housecoat. Damn, but she was too sexy! I didn't want her to live with us, but Ginger said that she had nowhere to go, that hubby had died a few years before and that they had become inseparable. I relented, and she moved in. I've always regretted that.
"To love," she said, and I clinked my glass against hers.
"Yeah, to love," I said, and I downed that drink like it was grapefruit juice.
"Do you love my daughter, Paul?" she asked me.
Her robe had fallen open at the waist, and I was treated to the sight of her ripe thighs and a glimpse of her pussy, dark and juicy-looking. My mind started to spin, flipping around inside my head like a flapjack, I swear.
"Nah," I said. "She's good in bed, though."
"She tells me you're good too."
"You believe her?"
"I don't know. . . . "
"Well, why don't you find out for yourself?"
She gave me the big smile, and I pulled her out of the chair and dragged her into the bedroom, giving her a grand fuck before my wife walked in and found me in our wedding bed with her mother. I hardly flinched, although she ranted and raved and the old woman told her that I had gotten her drunk and forced her to go to bed. Ginger didn't believe her old woman, but the marriage was ended. We haven't been divorced yet. We're just separated. I found myself gobbling vallium the other night, trying to kill myself, and when I woke up, I called a friend of mine who recommended that I see you.
And so here I am, wondering whether I'm coming or going, running or slowing, cracking up or getting better, a little better all the time.. . . "
REMARKS: At eighteen, Paul has a good future in front of him if he can regain his emotional balance. His musicianship can provide him a substantial career, and he will remain in therapy with me until he can reconstruct some semblance of a life for himself. He is limiting himself to engagements in the metropolitan area, so that he can make our thrice-weekly sessions.
