Miriam Brookman was born in Boise, Idaho, and after reaching her eighteenth birthday, she decided to go further west in search of better wages. like millions of other young Americans, Miriam had heard the tales of fabulous California, the "swingingest state" in the country. San Francisco holds something of interest for everyone, no matter how he gets his kicks. If you are tuned-in and turned-on to what is happening, your thing can be expressed in Haight-Ashbury, the hippie capitol of the world. Prostitution has been a part of the city since its earliest days, and the gate city also holds the distinction of being the "capitol of homosexuality."
The southern half of California is tuned in for space-age living. The race tracks and social-club gambling in the rural districts make the take in Las Vegas look like small change. In Los Angeles, the bright lights along Sunset Boulevard draw in the aspiring movie starlets and fills them with hopes of making it big some day. The new rave, currently sweeping Southern California, is community housing for lonely hearts, where large apartment complexes are designed especially for males and females who believe in free love-the aftermath of fun and promiscuity that follows a day's outing on the sunny beaches of Santa Monica and Long Beach.
Miriam settled in San Francisco. After three weeks she felt the loneliness that plagues a girl living all alone in a big city.
This is the tale Miriam told me:
I was lonely and homesick. I hadn't dated because all the guys at the phone company where I worked, were such drips! It was too obvious what they were interested in. And the few girls I had become friends with scared me with their talk of smoking pot and things like that. So, I stayed home a lot of weekends.
Finally this married guy asked me out. Well, I knew that he had a wife and three kids, but he was sorta groovy. Not only that, but some of the other girls, like Anne, had been out with him. In fact, all the girls joked about how much man he was supposed to be. Annie said that his thing was the longest she'd ever seen! And that chick should know, because she's been through plenty!
Did you have any guilt feelings about his being married? You sound as if you were raised in a Christian home...
Yeah, I know, but I was desperate. I knew it was wrong but San Francisco wasn't like Boise. My parents weren't around and I had been using the pill for almost a month. I felt like it was either this guy, or none. Well, he took me to this party. It was a pretty good one, with a lot of married men dating single girls. Some of the girls talked about it in the bathroom and they thought it was just plain fun--one night stuff with no fuss, no bother afterward. What did it matter if your date was married? Probably, after years of having the same drab wife to make love to, they usually were very appreciative and laid nice gifts on you.
Well, that night was the first time I smoked marijuana ... grass. He taught me how to smoke it and since everybody else was turning on, I saw no reason not to. Nothing sexual entered my mind until we started dancing real dreamy-like. My date held me real close and pressed his cock hard between my legs. It didn't bother me at all-I accepted the fact that we were both wanting the same thing. The dance got fairly hot (I guess I don't have to explain why), and I was surprised at myself and I kept thinking: IF MOTHER COULD ONLY SEE ME NOW!
After the party was over he said, "Listen, I have a buddy that has an apartment, and if you don't have to be home early..."
Who was he kidding, I asked myself. I had all night and not a damn thing better to do! So I went to this buddy's apartment.
We smoked some more pot and he played this weird Indian music on the box. About four o'clock that morning his pal walked in on us. I was standing in the middle of the room with my clothes half off. But this guy didn't stop kissing me. His hands realiy went to work on me then: he held me with one hand around my waist, and almost lifted me off the floor, while his other hand came under my skirt and squeezed my behind.
"Hey ... we have company. Don't you think we'd better stop..." I whispered to him. trying not to be too much of a prude.
He kept right on feeling me up, and his hands came around to my center. He had his finger inside of my panties before I could stop him.
The next thing I knew, this other guy was behind me and rubbing his cock against my ass and saying funny things. It was turning into a free-for-all! I pleaded with them to stop, but they were really blowing their minds.
"Ah c'mon. baby, we know what you need. Mike's been telling me about you for weeks," the guy behind me said, and took a handful of my tits. Then they had me down on the floor and this married guy was taking out his penis, standing over me. Annie was right ... it WAS huge! I shook all over anticipating how good it was going to feel.
I think mostly it was the pot that made me do those things that night. I liked it so well I stayed there for two more nights. In fact, I missed work that next Monday morning."
Next, I interviewed Mike Johnson, a salesman: "Well, I don't know how California is ranked among the other states, as a swinger, but it's happening out here all right! This city is insane with all the hippies and the streetwalkers, and the gay dudes. You know how you used to read how the queers kissed each other in the streets of Paris? Well in San Francisco it's nothing to see two men kissing downtown on Market Street. We've got a whole colony of them. And if there was ever a city where women never got enough of long cocks, San Francisco is the place!"
A middle class widow told me: "There's just too damn much of it going on here in this city! The blacks are laying with white girls and the white youngsters are smoking that dope stuff-and there's a prostitute on every corner! What's happened to the good, God-fearing citizens of this town? It's sinful, is what it is!"
Hilliard Paine, a handsome young accountant with an investment broker aga reported: "Wow, man, like I dig living here. The west coast is great-and the chicks are wild!"
I asked, "How do you mean? Do you mean the cities are beautiful, or that girls are friendly?"
"Ah wow! No man, like getting "trim" you know?
Pussy is free unless you like black whores-they charge too much. You know, why bother when you have first-class chicks migrating in every week? All kinds, all shapes too. like everybody turns on here. Just the other day I went out with this chick just over here from England, yuh know, cockney and all that! What a doll she was. She was about my height, but was she stacked! She had short blonde hair, and a nice little Keester with round soft cheeks-and marvelous legs. You should see her in a miniskirt-blow your mind right to Jupiter.
"I took her over to this chick's house-see? Her name was Lydia, and Lydia is a bit 'that way.' But I had to stop by there to get a couple of joints; Lydia supplies the stuff. Anyway, we're sitting there getting acquainted and Lydia gets the big eyes for my English bird. 'Listen-' she says, ... why don't you two stick around for awhile? 'Maybe we can get a party going-' I knew what she meant. But I wasn't sure that my date would go for any hanky-panky. But I stepped out of the room just long enough to go to the John, and when I came back, Lydia had her down on the couch, really giving it to her. Man, like there wasn't nothing for me to do but grab my hat and make it. I'll never make that mistake any more! But that's the kind of wild things that goes on out here on the West Coast!"
Astrud Gabreille, a European, was a part-time student at an art school. The story she related was interesting because many of our teenage girls, after having come to California, become involved with older women who seldom have their best interests at heart.
This was Astrud's story: "I couldn't quite get used to living in Los Angeles at first, but I did love art and my classes were worth all the hustle and bustle! At the college I met Harriette. Although she was much older than I, I found her to be a wonderful, warm human being. I didn't date much in those days, because I couldn't speak very good English. But I soon learned to adjust to many of the American boy's ways. Each one that I went out with tried to put his hand under my skirt and feel my center. I won't lie about it-it did make me terribly warm for them."
"But I've always thought European women were more liberal-minded in matters of sex," I said.
"No, oh no, that is not so. Perhaps we are more open minded, and take our sexual activities much more objectively than most Americans do ... but our women do not go along with this everybody all joining in thing," Astrud replied.
"I've read about and interviewed many European men who freely admit to having mistresses and wives too, and the single women seem to go along with it."
"There is a great deal of difference between having a mistress and being a part of an open orgy. Here in America, especially in Los Angeles, they all seem to think that a girl is supposed to service any man that drops his underwear. No ... not so! I can't stand how these American boys put their hands over your body. Sometimes, when I am at school in the hallway or standing someplace, a boy will come up to me and put his hands over my buttocks and squeeze them. Once I was in the auditorium all alone, and this boy pulled me down on the floor and tried to put his thing in my, my ... well, it was terrible. And the thing that hurts is that they just get up and walk away when they're done. I think, personally, they should stop smoking so much of that marijuana and taking L.S.D. tablets..."
"Did your friend Harriette feel this way also? Is that how you two became friends?"
"Yes, and I resent your implication ... of our not being normal. Just because two women seek the companionship of each other is no reason they should be shunned. This is another characteristic I do not like in Americans. Yes ... we became very good friends because we shared many interests."
"Is your friend Harriette a lesbian?" I asked her point-blank.
"Yes, Harriette is a lesbian."
"And did you...."
"You do not have to bite your tongue with me, Mister Sheldon. I am not ashamed of anything. And to answer your question, yes, we became very intimate."
"Would you mind telling me how your friendship came about?"
"Of course not," she said. "She was helping me with an oil painting over at her apartment one evening. We did not have much money so we had to share a bottle of wine. I don't hold my liquor well, and soon the both of us were a little giggly, when she suddenly asked, 'Astrud, a cute kid like you must have a lot of offers from good-looking boys. Why is it that you never go out on dates? Do you have a thing against ... menfolks?' I told her that I was particular about whom I dated, and all about how American men are so phony with their come-ons. That is when we found that we had a lot more in common than we thought. While we talked, Harriette began to act strangely, and her hands kept playing with the front of my blouse. We got closer-and our heads were almost touching, and she kissed me. I was shocked, but not repulsed by what she did, because it wasn't in a manner that was insulting to me. She said, T shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry Astrud ... I think we'd better call it a night.' She got up from the couch. I had always thought that once a lesbian went that far there was no saving her victim..."
"Why did you say victim? I thought that you agreed with the arrangement," I asked.
"It's a weird experience for any girl, having her first sex mate a queer" she said.
"Then you were a virgin at this time?"
"I was, yes!" she said. "And although you men do not think so, love and intercourse can be beautiful! It's like a girl's wedding day, something that she will never forget in her lifetime. But I was thankful that Harriette didn't try to go any further that night. She waited two days before she called me again. She asked me if I would spend the night with her and said that she had been thinking seriously about me, since I knew her secret. She told me how difficult it was for her to meet someone she liked-like myself. And that if I wanted to end the friendship, she would understand. And by my coming to spend the night-it would show her that I was truly her friend."
"Did you believe all of that soft sell."
"What makes you ask that, Mister Sheldon? Of course I believed her. I went there that night and it was very lovely. There wasn't any need for games then, and Harriette was nude when I walked in. 'Here, my sweet pet...' she said and took off my coat and kissed me softly on my cheek. She led me into the bedroom and undressed me and she kissed each part of my body as she did..."
As Astrud spoke, a far-away look came into her eyes; savoring the warmth of her past memories with Harriette.
She continued: "It was really quite beautiful, when I think back over that night. I remember because I was so aware of what was happening ... what it was like to be genuinely loved for one's self. The way Harriette kissed me was marvelous, as if she understood that I was vibrating with passion, and how my center kept me sexy all the time. It was marvelous because I could share my secret with her, and she understood. The way she sucked my titties told me this. She held them as if they were precious gifts to be admired. Her lips were blazing when she sat me down on the bed and laid me back across the covers. I held my breath, not knowing how to react, or how it was going to feel having a woman make love to me...
"Harriette was good with her love making, and in no time at all I had completely surrendered to her. She pushed my thighs apart tenderly and brushed her lips over my skin, with so light a touch that the friction of her lips froze me with wondrous delight. She kissed my thighs, just letting her tongue touch the very tip of my clit and I almost leaped from the bed! 'Now, now, my darling. Let me love you, relax,' she whispered, and her tongue came in contact with my full clit, and it licked it greedily. Then came her teeth, nipping it tenderly, yet tugging, and tantalizing me even more! 'I know it feels good to you, Astrud ... I know, I know!" she moaned.
"I managed to murmur that it was so wrong for two women to do what we were doing but she convinced me that she would tell no one, and that if I let her, she would devote her life to making me happy. When she finished saying that, she brought her mouth fully down over my vagina. I felt the air escaping, emerged with the outpour of all my hornyness, and then the smacking sound of Harriett's lips, not letting any of it escape her mouth as though it was the precious source of life. It was like nothing I've felt in my life. I squirmed, embarrassingly. 'It's all right, darling-let yourself go with it ... do it until you get enough. Go on Astrud-have a good fuck!' Her words drove me almost mad, and I tossed and bucked on the bed.
It wasn't me; it was a new soul that had been lodged within me and it took this woman to make me see it."
Norman England was a college professor in Southern California. He related this: "No one could have been more surprised than I when I saw little Sandy Smith in one of my classes. Her father and I had been the best of friends back in our home town and in fact, Sam lived right next door. So you can imagine how surprised I was to see little Sandy all grown up. 'Sandy-Sandy Smith! What a sight you are. How's your dad?' I greeted her after the class was over. She was delighted to see me, but she wasn't the pug-nosed tomboy I used to chase off my lawn. No, she was quite the lady now. Although she was small, she was well built. She had nice sized breasts that were just beginning to bud and blossom.
"Sandy and I got to be good friends and in time she began to bring her troubles to me-like an uncle you might say. Usually she would just drop by unannounced and have coffee or help me correct class papers. 'You know, Professor England, this is great, with you here to look after me. I feel like I'm home.' I was flattered naturally, and I tried to keep our relationship on that basis. Then one night our usual family-type conversation hit a snag. 'Professor-you once said that I could speak to you about almost anything ... well, I have a problem now.' Sandy went on to explain that she was having severe head aches, and that she thought it was all caused from lack of sex. She was quite open and frank with me, and I advised her as best I could.
"One evening she came by my place wearing jeans. I had never seen her form fitting pants before and they were especially revealing. They were very tight and clearly defined her rather large buttocks; taut between her cheeks. She had on a thin sweater and she wasn't wearing a bra beneath. Her nipples were as distinct as black on white. They jittered and bounced like mad when she moved. Until that very night, I had not been aware of just how sexy Sam's little daughter was. I saw that she had excellent legs and well-formed, fat thighs. It was especially exciting to see how the jeans drew tightly over her crotch, and showed the fat, bulge of her pussy. I felt passion sweep over me as I guessed her reason for coming to my place at that hour of the night.
" 'I'm sorry to trouble you, Professor. But I got the shakes tonight. I went to a party, a casual thing after a picnic. My date got a little carried away ... and, and...' She lowered her head and I instantly put my arms around her to comfort her. Her big titties stabbed into my chest and the soft, firm hotness of her thighs was against me. Try as I did, I couldn't keep my penis from becoming erect.
" T know, my dear, it's terribly hard being so far from home. But you can talk to me.'
"She cried for a long while and I held her there against me. I began to think of Sam and how he would want to kill me if he could see me holding his seventeen year old daughter like that. I too, felt guilty, and I'm sure she must have felt it, but she didn't move away. She shifted her weight, the way women do when they know your cock is hard. like they aren't aware, but getting the best fix on it, anyway! The way Sandy bent her pelvis in between my legs and up against my cock, told me that she was at least curious.
"She kept right on talking. "This boy grabbed me and tried to rape me. He said that he just had to ... fuck me, Professor. It was horrible...' I let my right hand caress her shoulder and come around under her arm. Then I stroked her neck. 'Calm down and tell me more,' I said, and she purred like a kitten, nestling closer. I brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her forehead. Her arm went around my waist. 'You're such a precious baby-you're so young and tender, and it's not your fault that you have a woman's body ... and some men don't understand these things the way an older man does. They know how a young girl's body can ache when she's maturing.' All the while I continued the caresses until Sandy began to purr and wiggle. Her mouth came open and I kissed her and put both arms around her soft young body. At the same time I rolled my hardness into her mound of pussy. She shuddered and sucked in her breath. 'Oh, Professor?'
"I caught her up and rubbed her ass and down between her thighs. Sandy was young and that put her right into my hands; I knew how hot and bothered her cunt was making her. When I was sure
I had her going, I said: 'Do you like the way that feels?' I stepped back and let my penis slip down along my legs until it came full sized, and that was almost 10 inches, which is a lot for a girl as young as Sandy was. 'Yes,' she answered. 'It feels wonderful.' I asked her if she had been screwed before. 'No, but a boy felt between my legs once-and pushed his finger in me.'
"My hands were buried in that soft, fat ass of hers, and I rotated her hips so that her cunt was kept hot by brushing over my cock. 'Do you want some of this peter? I won't hurt you with it,' I whispered, and at the same time ran my tongue in her ear.
"I went to the couch and had her take down her jeans; there were no panties beneath. I don't think that I had ever seen a woman as excited as Sandy was. Her eyes were as big as melons when I took down my pants and let her see my weapon. Right away she came to me and took it in hand. I'm afraid I was in for a little surprise.
"Little Sandy wasn't so new at all of this, as I had thought because she knew exactly what to do for a man. The way she kissed and stroked me, told me that this wasn't her first time as she would have me believe. I discovered too, that there was no pleasing her. She kept saying things like, 'Do it to me Professor, do it hard, and make that big thing of yours hurt me ... drive it all the way through me!'
"I must admit that I gave her everything that I had, and still she wiggled on top of me begging for more fun and games. Even when I applied oral probing she thought nothing of it. I mean, she had several orgasms, but I had started something that a man my age couldn't hope to finish. Which taught me a lesson about the youth of today.
"In my day a mature woman was preferred because she had experience, but today, the teenage girls know as much about popping a man's wig, as their mothers!"
A housewife told me: "My Gawd-I don't know what this world is coming to. Morals are so low that all a person has to do is to step out into his backyard to see sexual promiscuity. I live out in the Lakewood Hills district. It's about three miles up from the lake area. The houses are crowded very close together.
"There's this married lady that lives next door to us, and her husband is never home-he's always flying to New York or somewhere on business trips, but I noticed that the lady had all kinds of gentlemen callers. The older guys around said she was a nympho and that she would give anybody some. One morning I was out by the pool when I heard her laughing. I went over to the fence that separates our backyards. It was too high to see over so I peeked through a crack.
"There were three men talking to her. Obviously they were business associates of her husband. They were laughing at this lady's dog sniffing between her legs. They were all wearing bathing suits, and she just sat there on the edge of a deckchair, laughing and giggling with her legs wide open!
" 'Oh wow!' she said, 'If my husband could see this he'd die!' "
Then this big, muscular man got up and walked over to her.
"He took the lady over on the grass and started kissing her. He put his arms around her and it sure did look sexy-what they were doing. He pulled off her haltar and that was when the other men went over behind her.
"They laid her down and the first man climbed on top of her. He had a tremendously large, nasty looking penis and he stuck it in her, and she started twisting and bucking under him. This other man was on his knees behind her head, and he put his pee wee in her mouth. Boy, she sucked on it, and made all these animal-like noises.
"Well, I tell you that I Was never so outdone in all my life. To think that in a neighborhood like ours, where we were all supposed to be God-fearing people raising children ... that this could happen! I'm telling you it's a disgrace the way women are carrying on nowadays. If Free Love has done this to our morals ... then I say the hell with it. But it did make me wonder just why the hell, my own husband was staying away from the home so often lately!' "
BOOK TWO
THE TEEN HUMPERS
The use of psychedelic drugs has swept the country at all levels of society. The term "psychedelic" has been used to describe fashion modes as well as the new dances. In many west coast cities, the officials have sought to establish a curfew for youths under eighteen years. Despite recommendations that minors be kept off the streets after midnight, many parents are deaf to their suggestions. In fact, most parents claim that the dances are perfectly safe, that they are good, clean fun, and that they serve to release the pent-up frustrations of their youngsters, through dancing. Most parents can see no harm in the psychedelic dance halls nor will they believe they can lead their daughters into promiscuity.
Having become aware of this problem I made a preliminary study of the matter., I found that, generally, the dances were supervised quite admirably, although as is invariably true in such cases, there are always a few present who strive to prey upon innocent young girls attending these dances.
Rob Bailey was over thirty, and he had this story to relate: "My buddy had been telling me about the teenage, psychedelic dances. He kept boasting how easy it was to screw these hippie chicks, because they were mostly stoned on pot all the time. Finally I went with him one night. I was really impressed. Although they were all young as hell, some of those hippie chicks really had nice bodies.
"The music was so loud that I couldn't hear myself think! After the dance my buddy, Bill, brings two of these young chicks up to meet me. One was a redhead, built sorta stocky, with hair down to her shoulders, and she had on this micro-mini-skirt. It looked good on her; it was so short that I could see all of her fleshy thighs. This was Bill's catch. The other girl must have been about 15 years old, although she didn't look it. When I first looked at her-I felt like I was her father.
"She had bleached white hair that contrasted well with her deep tan. Her eyes were big and innocent, and yet there was something in them that told a man that she liked to do it. Her nose was short and her mouth wide with pink lipstick covering them. She was sorta thin with wide hips and a nice little bouncy ass. That was what got me-the way those young cheeks just rolled around inside of that mini, like two bowls of jello. She had well-formed thighs that molded her skirt into flowing lines.
"Rob," my buddy said, "this is Mona and Joyce ... we're going up to my place to have another party, and maybe get nice, huh girls?
"My date said, 'Oh, but listen you guys. I can't stay long, because I live down on the peninsula and my mother will worry if I get home too late."
"We all agreed that we wouldn't stay too long.
"When we got to Bill's apartment, he gave us some scotch and then we turned-on. Right away Bill was putting the screws on Mona. The poor kid was stretched out on the living room floor and he was pumping her like a horny dog. Mona pumped right back, almost raping the guy!
"I took Joyce's arm and led her toward the bedroom.
'Wait, where are you taking me? I don't want to go back there,' she said, and pulled against me.
"I tried to put my arms around her so she could feel a little of my cock. T just want to have a little fun while your girl friend enjoys herself,' I said 'don't you want to get better acquainted?'
"She snapped back, 'Not THAT way!'
"But she agreed anyway to go into the bedroom with me. When I got her inside I watched her walk across the room away from the bed.
"I stepped up behind her and put my arms around her waist and slowly gave her a little dick.
'No ... don't do that, please. I told you I don't want to...!
"I only pressed harder, and she rolled her ass on my cock, and squirmed a little.
"There was something crazy about the whole thing. I was stoned and she was too, but she wasn't coming around. 'Don't you like boys, baby? Don't you dig a little action?' I asked. I turned her around and kissed her and pushed my tongue into her mouth.
" 'Sex doesn't turn me on any,' she said calmly, folding her arms. She was playing a game, but I knew a better one. I squeezed her tits and raised her skirt. I felt beneath it and clutched a bushy thicket of hairs.
" 'Don't do that! Leave me alone, please!' She didn't have any panties on, so that made it easy. I took a firm hold on her and gave her a little finger.
"Instantly, she squatted and spread her legs-I gave her a fistful then! I managed to unbuckle my pants and get them down and raised my cock to her tender ass. 'Don't, leave me alone ... it's too big!'
"I dragged her over to the bed and held her in front of me. Before she could pull away, I lifted her skirt higher and kissed her stomach, my tongue darting into her naval. I felt her pubic hair tickling my chin.
"I knew that if I was going to succeed with her, I had to get her good and hot. 'You're a sexy little thing. Have you ever had this?' I asked as I pulled her onto me and pushed her legs open and licked her between her hairy center's lips. Her legs spread apart, her pussy pouting like a hot, fleshy demon. I mouthed it and sucked her moisture until she trembled all over.
"Suddenly she was clinging and grabbing all over me. I turned her around and looked at that pretty hot ass of hers. She bent forward and brought it closer as if she anticipated what I was going to do next.
"I was so high, and wanted to do her so badly that I didn't care what I had to do to get it. I kissed her there, and she let out with a loud moan. Then I was on top of her.
"No, don't! You'll kill me with that big thing." she whimpered.
"I put it in her anyway. It was tight and so hot that the sensation sent chills all over me. I gave it to her a little at a time, slowly twisting, sometimes almost completely in her, and then just when she raised up to get more in, I jerked it almost out. That was blowing her mind.
"I repeated this until she was sure what I was going to do with that blistering, nasty cunt ... and each time I felt her off guard, I'd plunge all of me down to her very core. She'd give out with a sexy yipe; feeling how big and piercing my cock was when it hit rock bottom!
"Then she had become accustomed to that way, so I reached back and brought her legs over my back, and at the same time making sure that I had a handful of that big ass beneath me. I wanted her as tight and taut as a balloon, so she could get the full benefit of what it was like to have a man-sized cock splitting her baby's cunt! I rammed it to her, again and again, harder and harder, until she was almost slobbering at the mouth, gaping for a breath of air. I put my tongue in her ear, and said all the foul, nasty, four letter words I could think of. That got to her, reducing her, drove her into the most frantic, begging, little young vixen I'd ever seen!
"We had to stop soon after that and get her back to the dance hall where her folks were to pick her up. She had told her folks that the dance ended at two o'clock instead of midnight. We were sitting in Bill's car across the street from the dance hall, and I was getting in a couple of hot licks before letting her out of the car. She had just got out of the car and was walking across the street when her father grabbed her. He had been watching the whole thing from the cover of a building. Man, he whaled the holy hell out of that young girl. Well, we took out of there on two wheels, but I have become a regular visitor to the kid's dances. I mean, you know, it's always enlightening to get a fresh piece of a young gal's snatch ... every once in a while!"
After hearing Rob's case history, I began to wonder, if we were indeed giving today's youth too much freedom-sexual freedom, that is. I have heard all the arguments about the generation gap, and how the older citizens have stirred up the mess this country is in, but is the old dictum "spare the rod and spoil the child" valid?
For the longest time, Sally Forester was thought a little strange by the townspeople. Sally was a strikingly lovely girl, and for a time she was sought after by the boys, but she refused to date anyone. It was frustrating to the boys her own age, and even more so to some of the older men who looked at her in admiration. During the summer, they all watched as this lovely creature adorned in bikini bathing suit, sunglasses, and carrying a book or two, strolled down the main thoroughfare to the beach where she would stretch out on the white sand and tan herself. She never spoke a word or paid any attention to the men who endeavored to make her.
It was by luck that I happened to stop over in this little beach town while finishing up a manuscript, and trying to make a publication deadline. I needed only to take one look at Sally to see why all the menfolk went for her. I was on the beach one day when she strolled past me. I sat up and stared unbelievingly, admiring the proud strut of this young girl. She was majestic to watch, as her hips and buttocks moved in a rotating rhythm that threatened to spill her beauties out of her tiny bikini. Her mammoth-sized breasts jiggled and stretched her thin halter to its limits. Her long, dark hair flowed down to her shoulders. I guessed her age to be about sixteen. And just as the townfolks had told me, there was something mysterious about her.
For two days, I waited for an opportunity to introduce myself, thinking that there must be an interesting story behind the super-cool, intellectual camouflage that Sally presented. No female, especially her age, could be that cold! I remembered hearing one of the men saying "Ahh shit, wait until you see Sally. That gal's got more sex appeal than twenty women standing naked in the middle of Main Street. There's not a man in this town, married or single, that wouldn't love to give that little vixen a good stiff fucking!"
The hotel manager told me, "Yipe, I watched lit-the Sally grow up ... and if yuh ask me she's turned out to be a little prick-teaser. That gal knows how she is excitin' these menfolks. I mean, I watch her sometimes when she comes into my store ... the way she stands and sorta shows off that big, old, juicy ass of hers. And she wears those jeans tight for a purpose too. It's like she wants all the menfolk to see the way those jeans snug up to that pussy, makin' it look all swollen. But mark my words, one night somebody is gonna' steal her, and stick a dick to her! Yuh can see it on all of the men's faces. They've watched that little bitch grow up and each year she gets worse and worse, teasing, and prancing that hot little body of hers around . . .she'll get it all right!"
All the things I had heard about this girl served to whet my curiosity, and I was determined to interview her to learn what was behind her cool.
My chance came, when he came down to the beach one day earlier than her usual time, and was sitting alone. I picked up my note pad and went over to her.
"Good morning," I said, "I hope you don't mind but I noticed that you come to the beach every day ... do you mind?"
She was like a stone, cold replica of Mona Lisa's magnificence. From where I stood, I got a good close-up view of her dazzling loveliness, unbelievable for a girl her age. It took a while, but I finally received an invitation to sit down. In the next two days I learned why she preferred to remain distant and to ward off any male advances.
This was Sally's story as she related it to me:
"My mother and father were killed in a plane crash. My father was an advertising agent and my mother frequently took trips across the country with him. My mother was beautiful, and I was always proud of both of them. My Uncle Frank, with whom I live now, raised me. It was sorta lonely with just the two of us in the house. And I had always liked Uncle Frank. That is until I was nearly thirteen and became aware that Uncle Frank drank almost incessantly.
Some nights he would bring these whores home and make love to them. I realized that he was a man, and unmarried, and he had to get his sex from someplace. But what he failed to realize was that I was growing up and I had problems myself. I couldn't consult with Uncle Frank about the customary things a young girl needs to know, such as genital care and menstruation and all, because we were never that close. Then one night I saw him with this woman..."
"Making love, you mean?" I questioned. "Yes, and it was sort of odd, if you know what I mean. The only things I knew about sex came from the books that I had read. Uncle Frank was drunk, and the woman was too. She was much older than he was, and it looked like she was really hellbent for action, if you know what I mean. But I think the part that really shook me was seeing a man's penis for the first time. Although I had sometimes unintentionally barged in on Uncle Frank while he was urinating in the bath room, and he would be standing there shaking his cock. But these encounters were always brief, and I never really saw what it looked like. I remembered that it was so long and that it scared me to think that something as round and long as that had to go inside of a girl-it was frightening to me. I had this fear that someday some man would hurt me with one as big as Uncle Frank's. I knew that sooner or later, some man was going to make a go at screwing me, because all the men in this dippy town stare at me when I go to the beach wearing my bathing suit.
"This one night, Uncle Frank undressed the woman and they were on the living room floor. 'Oh quick, Frank,' she begged. "I can't wait! Give me little now. You're so good baby,' the woman kept saying in a panting voice, like she was going to die if she couldn't have Uncle Frank.
"She was all over him and taking his penis in her hand and kissing it, or rather more like slobbering over it! It looked so big. At first it was sorta small. I don't know, then all of a sudden, it stood erect like a stiff board.
" 'Oh, please Frank do me now ... my husband never gives it to me the way I like it.' The lady said, and Uncle Frank mumbled something about he could get shot if they were caught by her husband.
"I don't care. You've got the biggest and longest in town! All the women are craving your cock.'
"Uncle Frank rolled over on top of her and stuck that thing of his into her pussy. The old woman bolted and pitched on the floor, and scratched at his shoulder. He caught her by her thick, flabby thighs and held her legs up in the air, and pumped his cock harder and faster.
"OHHHHH, GAWDAMIT, MAN! You're like a elephant! Run that big, fat STICKER in my hole, baby. Yes, yes, roll in it, baby ... make it nasty . '. . you gawdamn bull, you! I love it!
"The woman kept spouting obscenities and alt the while riding Uncle Frank's thing, like it was the most important thing in the world.
"Uncle Frank pushed her over on to her knees and did it to her from behind. It looked as if he could get to her better from that position and it must have been all the way into her, because she began to weaken and tremble.
"I knew then that she must be coming to a climax. I was really curious because I wanted to see what it would be like. But all she did was just fall into a heap on the floor beneath him. I thought that there must be more to it than just that. Anyway, I sneaked back into my bedroom.
"Everything I had seen made me horny as hell. I got undressed and stood in front of the mirror to see myself. If only I could tell you how a girl suffers. My titties were almost as large as melons and the way my nipples swelled to the size of large, ripe cherries told me that I needed what a man had to offer. I was maybe a little over-weight. Do I look as if I'm gaining weight? Of course you wouldn't know. Mr. Sheldon, but I'm fat. don't you think?"
I looked at her as discreetly as I could. She was right about having enormous breasts. In the position she was lying at the moment, they hung to her sides and bulged out of the halter. Still I would never call anyone as shapely as she, fat.
"No. I don't think that you are too fat. I'd say you were one of the best stacked young ladies that I've seen in a long while. I bet the boys here in this town have no complaints."
Her face held a pixie glow, and her mouth stretched tautly, but never quite broke into a smile. Her large eyes sparkled with gratefulness at hearing my flattery.
"Well, I didn't really know," she said, "there's no one here in this town to compare with. Most of the girls are all dippy looking, and they resemble farmers more than girls! But I know that I'm too large around my hips and buttocks ... in fact it's very embarrassing whenever I wear pants. They all fit so tightly, and they emphasize how my butt sticks out back there. And the terrible part is, if I don't wear a girdle, my butt shakes like crazy! And my bikini just won't hold all of me back there."
"I wouldn't worry about it, Sally. I have just completed a survey in San Francisco, and all the younger girls wear their pants tight that way. You might say that it's stylish now. In Los Angeles, a great majority of females dress in slacks, or jeans, and they make sure that they fit snug to show off their figures."
After my reassuring her that she had no physical defects, she continued:
"What I had seen that night did make me terribly seductive and it was as though my entire lower midsection cringed and knotted up with passion. I guess you could say that was the first time that I knew what sex was all about. I felt like a woman and I touched myself-just my breasts, and held them in my hands. I looked at them; how they shaped into cones as I milked them. My thoughts were of them someday having milk and feeding my babies, and that made me happy. Then, too, even as I played with them, I was reminded that the main source of my body was on fire too.
Reluctantly, I put my hand down to my legs. They were warm like I never felt them before, and in the mirror, they looked so huge, but they are actually good legs. I thought how the men in town wanted to put their things into that little opening between my legs. I laughed, thinking how marvelous creation really was. When I did finally have a man's body he had to be the right man for me. I wanted my first intercourse to be a tender one-not the way my uncle had done it to that nasty old woman. And as I put my finger into center, I knew then what delights there would be in having a penis-rather than a gooey finger!
"Later that night I heard my Uncle Frank going to the bathroom, which was right across the hall. The old woman had left earlier. I don't know why, but I got up out of bed and opened the door."
"Had you ever done that before?" I asked her, because I felt that she wasn't giving me a true account.
She slumped forward, gazed out over the beach and tilted her chin. "Yes ... yes, I had often done that. I lied when I said I didn't know why. Most of the time Uncle Frank didn't bother closing the door when he took a leak..."
"What did you call it? How did you know."
"Oh Mr. Sheldon, girls have ways of learning things. I told you that I read a lot. like for instance, in the case histories such as the stuff you must write, you get a detailed description of what a person experiences, and they use the actual dialogue. And Uncle Frank must have had a weak bladder-because it seemed that he was always going to the bathroom. He'd stand there, unzip his trousers, and pull out his thing ... most of the time it wouldn't be so big. Then when he finished, he would stand there and shake it. When I saw this, I sometimes went crazy inside; usually I would fondle a breast or pull my nipples. Still it didn't help much, but just seeing that thing of Uncle Frank's, and how he would skin it back and look down at it like he was very proud of himself; like he knew that women loved him for it, really excited me. Uncle Frank was always bothered by women trying to get him to screw them. I had really known all along, only I didn't have any others to compare with. So I just figured that Uncle Frank was the biggest one around our town.
"Well, like a big dodo, I slipped and fell on my knee, which made the door fly open and he saw me peeking at his cock. He was really pissed when he realized what I had been doing. 'Sally, he said, you know better than that! What's gotten into you lately?' "
He walked across the hall, fastening his trousers, and my eyes stayed there at his crotch, and I saw his penis lumped up making a long bulge along his leg.
"No, I wasn't ... Uncle Frank, I was not peeking.
There was something about his face, as if he knew what I was going through, as if he knew that little girls were curious as cats when they were learning about sex. I saw it all in his face, he wanted me! I can't explain it-but there is something unearthly when you realize that a man wants to put his organ inside your own. It's strange because you become almost animalistic, and you can think of nothing but the flesh. It was all there in his face.
He wanted to fuck me because I was so young, and he probably thought my cunt ... pardon, center was tight and hot! It gave me a funny feeling seeing him walk toward me, and all the time holding himself down there."
"What are you turning into?" he asked. "Can't you wait like any other decent child? Are you so damn curious that you have to sneak a peek? He backed me inside my room. I retreated toward the bed.
"Listen Sally, I love you, and I don't want you to become cheap and dirty. If there are things you want to know about sex, then ask me. I'm your uncle."
"I told him that I didn't know how, that it was hard for a girl my age to ask questions about having intercourse with boys. Uncle Frank stepped in front of me where I was standing pressed against the wall. He was so close that I could smell the odor of his body, and the woman's sex over him.
"All right ... I guess it's time that you did learn. Do you trust your Uncle Frank? You know that I would not ever want to see you hurt."
"I nodded, and saw him reach down between us, and heard his zipper fly open. My heart pounded and I wanted to look down at it but I didn't dare.
"Here-look at it-so you'll know what a man's thing is all about. Here touch it!"
He jerked my hands down over his penis. I closed my eyes and bit my lips, feeling that funny sensation come over me again. Slowly, I lowered my eyes. I sucked my breath through my teeth, and I couldn't help but shiver when I saw how much of it there was. I couldn't hold all of it. It was really far out-you know? This was flesh and it was still so stiff and hard like a bone, and so round.
Without knowing it, I was letting my hand roam over the shaft and pulling the skin back to see its head. It frightened me. How could all of that get into a girl my age? It was as big as some coke bottles I had seen, you know, the twelve-ounce size!
"All of me shook and I felt my very core tremble when I heard him ask: 'Sally, do you think that you are old enough now?' Uncle Frank was really cool, and he understood.
"You and I, Uncle Frank?' I asked, grateful and happy that he recognized me as being a young lady. What he was doing was giving me the freedom of choice. He was telling me that although I was under age for mature sex and especially for a cock the size of his, he was willing to let me try.
"Have you been playing around with any other men? Do they try to do it to you?"
"I told him that Bobby Jackson had rubbed his thing against my ass one night on the beach and tried to get me to put it in my mouth.
"Did you let him?"
"I shook my head."
"There is a lot you have to learn, Sally about kissing and all that stuff. . . "
He put his arms around me, and I almost died at the initial contact of his bare chest against the thin nightie I was wearing. It was creepy at first, knowing that you are standing against your uncle's cock, and he's trying to rub it against your pussy. I mean..."
"It's all right, you may use any words that you want. It's all confidential. Go on, Sally."
"Well, it's just creepy, and it was creepy the way Uncle Frank began moaning and saying those words, while he sucked at my tits, right through the gown. I tried to lift it for him, but he was like blowing his mind. His mouth was open and his tongue was bathing me, licking underneath my right tit ... then he took it in his mouth and sucked on its nipple. His hands were stroking in between my thighs ... brushing up and down over my 'pert-tongue.' "
"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the term ... pert tongue?"
"Oh," said Sally, and turned to face me squarely like a professor about to explain something most thoroughly to a student. "That's what they call your membrane. You see-it's actually your clitoris, and when a girl is excited it sometimes gets hard-much like the male penis, and it ridges up to a point. And men call it a pert-tongue, and that's what Uncle Frank was doing with his fingers. I was blowing my mind then! Somehow it seemed so nasty and lustful, the way he kept patting my behind to make my cheeks shake. It tickled ... and I started moving around, sorta rotating, getting his caresses from behind, while his big old dick was thumping up against my ... you know..."
"Go on Sally ... express yourself the best way' you know how. Your report won't be of any service unless you're honest in your telling it," I assure her, knowing how difficult it became for some of my subjects when using verbal descriptions.
"He kept kissing me like that, and pretty soon he had my legs apart, and was down on his knees. I felt his tongue come into my center, and the coarseness of his tongue tickled and rocked me at the same instant! My legs went weak and he put more of it into me, and I started to shake real wild-like. Then came the slurping sound as he was making sure that no part of me was not savored. 'Jus' do it back to my tongue ... baby,' he said, and I tried to follow the pattern of his frantic tongue. I couldn't and I had to grab on to him as I collapsed on the bed.
"He raised my legs and held it like a person biting on a turkey leg, and he licked the insides of my thighs. Wow! Was that too much! He pushed my legs far apart and he sorta climbed between them. Then I felt it! Its big ole head was trying to force inside of me-I was too tiny. Uncle Frank had to really apply himself.
"I closed my eyes, the way I do when I have a bad dream or something, or like when I cut my hand and wait for the pain to stop. That's what I had to do when that thing was trying to get in me. I envisioned two dogs lost somewhere in the forest, and they were hot in heat, and the male, with his bulky, muscular size, was smothering the female, and the female was squirming, knowing that there was going to be explicit pain, yet, that which made her a woman, compelling her to take all of the male's weapon. Then the connection, and the female screamed in loud, erotic, shrilling, animal pain. Nothing mattered any more, save this one pulsating thrill when her orgasm came smashing against her vagina's walls, and plunged into hot, lumpy lava, that spilled out and around the block of penis that stretched her tunnel. It was all to beautiful ... my first orgasm was iust as I imagined it would be, thanks to Uncle Frank."
"There is one thing that puzzles me, Sally. Why this cold front of yours, and the big put-down of the boys here in town?"
"Well, my uncle didn't just stop with that night, he wanted to do it to me every time I turned around! When I was washing the dishes, he would just take out his penis and lift my dress and do it to me. Not only that, but his drunken lady friends found out that he was having intercourse with me. They wanted in too. It seemed hard to believe that people can be so coarse in their lust for sex. But it's all truth. They told my Uncle Frank, that unless he let me sleep with some of them, they would have the law down on him. To save Uncle Frank I consented to let them make love to me.
"The whole thing turned out to be just plain sickening. I used to see Uncle Frank eat those women right in front of me. I hated him for it. Maybe I was jealous because I felt that he shouldn't want anyone else's to eat but mine. He actually shamed me in front of all those lesbian whores, and I hated all men! Especially those in this town-they are all sniveling pigs, without backbones. I mean, why should I want to let them fuck me, when my uncle frank is having to do their wives because they are too old to cut the mustard?"
Little Sally had solved the mastery for me. I wondered now many other youngsters, like herself, are thrown into a life of promiscuity because they have early traumatic experiences with members of their own family.
In San Francisco, I interviewed lovely Stella Fields who was a photographers model and part-time topless waitress. It was though Stella's case history that I discovered the real workings of the underground movies. Stella was 17 years old, but had managed to attain a phony driver's license and I.D. card, thus enabling her to work night clubs. Stella was a natural "California blonde," slight of build, and had monumental sized breasts, which evidently was the chief reason why she was one of San Francisco's leading models. Stella was never out of work.
She told me: '"San Francisco is now leading the nation in pornography and underground movies. Although there has been a wave of Swedish photographs and magazines sweeping the country, Frisco leads in the sale of underground still. I can't think of any one actual sexual experience to tell you, Mr. Sheldon, because we really swing here and there is always something going on! But I can tell you about the first orgy I ever took part in, and maybe show you now many young runaway gurls get hooked into a live of, as you say, promiscuity."
"Fine, fine, start anywhere you'd like, I told her.
"I had been in the city for about six months. When I first got here, naturally, I went down into the Haight section and bummed around a bit. That didn't turn me on too much. I mean, I turned on, and had affairs with boys, but the life of a hippie girl when she's broke and all alone is just the shits! I mean some of those chicks have to take baths in service stations and I've seen one girl do it with maybe fourteen boys. And what pisses me off is that these straight cats, you know, like downtown businessmen and salesmen, all think that hippie girls are easy to screw. They plague the place, and these spade brothers go down there and want to fuck every white pussy that they see! They all expect this, I mean some filthy-minded bastard is always feeling you up, or pulling on your arms ... excuse me, Mr. Sheldon, but it just pisses me off!
"Anyway, I got the hell out of there and started working as a cocktail waitress, and the job was just as bad. During the luncheon shows, these fat-faced, old, goony-looking salesmen and executives come in and try to feel your tits! Really! They actually reach across the table and pinch your boobs! Usually they are all in a bunch and they think it's so damn funny. It's kinda dark in most of the clubs and we girls used to complain to the owners they they should have more light because these guys were doing nasty things to us when we walked by, you know, like squeezing your ass while you are bending over to serve drinks. Their biggest thing was bumping into your ass on the pretense of staggering. For men who were supposedly staggering, they sure managed to put their "stickers" in the right places!
"I quit that job too, and decided to work only part-time until I found something that paid better. Meanwhile I had gone to some parties with these chicks who were models, and they turned me on to making movies. Good pay for a few hours work under the lights while you were nude. The nude thing I wasn't so sure about, but what the hell? The kids were usually all pretty cool.
I was supposed to report at this theater at seven o'clock one evening. When I got there, I met three more chicks and four guys. One of them looked gay. Anyway, we went inside and were told to undress all the way down. Well, that was the first time I had seen what men's cocks looked like. But the cats surprised me. I didn't expect any monsters like they were packing between their legs. I felt like putting my clothes back on and getting the hell out of there. But I stuck it out and I got a chance to see some of that beefcake in action before they shot my scene in the movie.
"They were all high (These guys make sure that they have plenty of marijuana on hand to make the girls less self-conscience), and they weren't acting, or so it seemed to me. like this redhead, you know, the picture of innocence, pretending that she was embarrassed to be naked in front of "all of you good looking guys."
"Well she and her partner got a little carried away, mid-way in the reel, and the guy tried to ram it up her ass while she was bent over. I mean, like he couldn't help himself. There he was, play acting, hunched over this redhead's fat ass, with her cheeks spread apart, and his big old dick was dying and throbbing to get in her, and this joker was yelling to him, 'MAKE IT LOOK REAL, JOHNNY!' So Johnny tried doing his thing! You should have seen the look on the redhead's face when suddenly Johnny rams that long shaft up her bole! And she loved every screaming second of the time it was in her.
"Well, my part wasn't very big. What I was supposed to do, because I had such king-sized titties, was to pour honey over my tits and let this dog lick it off. Then in the middle of the reel my husband was supposed to arrive home and find the dog and me together, and then fry to out-do the dog-a community thing-if you can imagine that! Right away, I began to feel like the biggest ass there. like I'm a freak or something just because I have size fifty tits, and everybody is gawking at me. I heard one of the guys say, 'Gawdamn, look at her cans! Ooooo wweeee ... I must be stoned, ail that can't be for real!' Then the director said jokingly: 'Get your hands off your cocks boys, we'll have none of that!'
"Now, would you believe with all the sane, normal-acting dogs all over this town, I had to get a curious little bastard who must have been raised by Rudy Valentino! BANG! Right away! mere does his nose go? You guessed it-right in my crack, from the rear, not the front. Anyway it went pretty good until the dog Fido, got horny and thinking like a man! The damn dog, after licking my tits, leaped on me and tried to rape me. Well, okay, so maybe a little bit did get in, but you know, I was shocked, and not only that. I didn't believe it. I just didn't believe it. Not even when the silly hound tried to hump me!
"The director stopped the shooting and put the dog outside. Then he went on, and I guess watching the dog try to get to me got this guy's tooties on, because he was really for real. We had this scene where he is supposed to lay on top of me and kiss me passionately. You've seen the shots a million times in the sex magazines. Anyway, I let him kiss me and I let him press down a little bit, just for the sake of realism. Then what I felt between my legs was real enough! Right there on target.
"I was so hot and bothered with all the acting, pretending that I was not. I know that my cunt was wide open and ever so often, this guy on top of me, would make a certain move, and his prick would come in contact with my opening. We would both pretend that it was an accident, and we didn't let ourselves become concerned because that would prove that we were amateur actors. You dig?
"So there we were dry fucking and pretending like we weren't, but all the while making the scene look believable for the director, while the others were all playing with themselves. They knew what was happening because they had already shot their scenes. All the girls were standing straddle-legged like they were about to drop their loads!
"But this guy was succeeding. I didn't really mind as long as he could fool the others looking at us, and his prick came slowly into me, not much, but enough to wig off of. Well, after about twenty minutes of stopping and then reshooting the scene, and this guy making my whole body as tight as a drum, it got to be sorta frustrating.
"Ahh, c'mon Harry!" The director said, "What kind of actor are you? Here you got all this woman in your arms, and you're stiff as a board. Suck on her tits, for Pete sakes! Have you ever seen bigger tits than hers? I'm paying this broad one hundred dollars for a few measly hours work, so we can shoot a scene where you are going crazy for her! Don't you know nothing about fucking. Spread your legs, we're paying you to show what they pay to see! You know, a pussy ain't no big thing any more! Gap'em, because you can pay a dollar and see prettier pussies on magazine covers. At least you could make your cunt look like it's alive! Wiggle huh?" The director shouted to the both of us. I was never so embarrassed or humiliated in all of my life. Well-I was going to show him a thing or two! As soon as he shouted roll 'em, I grabbed the guy. This time we didn't have to worry about everybody seeing it-I wanted them to. The poor fella, he looked so shocked and pleased all at the same time. Well, that started the orgy.
"And this type of thing goes on with all the underground shooting?" I asked her.
"Well, look, girls just can't come out and say 'please screw me, mister.' So they have to have a reason to show off their wares. I mean chicks get involved because they really want to. They know what can happen at those shootings. Hell, you're naked and looking across at a naked man with his balls showing. Flesh that close can only mean that there is going to be a getting together! The chicks go there and take these jobs hoping to meet a good looking guy with a long, fat, stiff cock!"
"All of them, Miss Forester?"
"Funny, funeeee, Mr. Sheldon!"
In the west coast cities, prostitution has reached an all-time high. Prostitution is now high finance, rather than as it was first conceived-the pleasing of man's desire for female flesh. Thousands of teenagers flock to California following the lure of the easy money to be had peddling their tails. In San Francisco, there are hippie girls, ranging from age of 15 to 17, who sell their bodies for as little as fifty cents, or even for rides across town. Inevitably they become prime targets of the silver-tongued pimps.
Judy Winstrombe was 18 years old when I met her, and agreed to an interview. She had been, as she told me later, a streetwalker for more than three years.
"Tell me, Judy, how is that you chose prostitution, rather than looking for a legitimate job? Were there any deciding factors, such as a broken home, or incestuous rape, or anything along those lines?" I asked her as an opener for the interview.
Judy's face was "pixieish," reminding me of a nymph, with her pint size, and her dazzling figure. Her large brown eyes gave her an earthy look, almost like the women in the mountains of Italy-a look of love, and perhaps one of appreciation for having been born a woman. Judy was that kind of female that rendered a man helpless, and killed him with the desire to protect her in his loving arms. No man could resist her. Her magnetism went beyond mere sexiness. Her fragile body was a masterpiece, and you didn't want to mar it in any way. There was that in her smile, her walk, the gentle swaying of her voluptuous buttocks, that said take me, I need your love, while you were filled with self-reproach for having thought of actually wanting to fuck this youngster. It wasn't hard to see why she would be a successful streetwalker.
Judy answered, "No, it wasn't any of those things. I just ran away from home, and I met this Negro man and he started me hustling for him."
"Is that all?"
"No..." she said, cocking her head so that her long dark hair fell away from her eyes. Her eyes were staring dreamily and she folded her arms, shifting her weight to one hip. I began to feel about her as her prospective customers must. Judy had a way of letting you know with her eyes that you were not permitted to touch the merchandise before paying for it. "I enjoy doing it. It's fun. Can you think of a better way of pulling down eight hundred dollars a week? Sometimes I make that much in one night."
"Eight hundred..." I said in a shocked disbelief-
"That's no bread, really. The chicks are charging fifty dollars a trick in the downtown area. Everything is highly modernized, even the hotel bookings. It's all highly organized nowadays, not at all like when I first started. I've had to roll guys out of alleys, and screw these dirty old truck drivers and the sort! I've turned tricks all the way from Tijuana up to San Francisco. I really liked San Diego. That's where all the sailors are stationed. But if I feel like really applying myself, I can pull down a big chunk in one night."
"One thing that has always amazed me, is how do you, or any decent girl, let these ... black pimps talk you into whoring for them!"
Judy paused for a moment and contemplated that question. Then said in a bewildered tone, "I don't know-I guess you'd have to ask my pimp."
Another girl told me: "It's not so hard being out on your own. like I'm fifteen now, and when I ran away I was a year younger. I came here and didn't have any trouble at all."
"Why is that? Were you so determined to make it on your own without your parent's help, or what?" I questioned.
"No, it's just that grownups are so stupid."
"Stupid?"
"Yeah," she said, and popped a wad of bubble gum in her mouth, "They'll do anything to put their cocks in you. They'll pay for it, feed you for weeks at a. time, and even give you tongue baths! It's groovy for the girl though-you just lay there and pretend that you're really getting your nuts off, or whisper into their ear, or tell 'em that they have real groovy dicks and they blow their stacks. like this one old man that picked me up. He jumped on me maybe six times a day. It took him that many times to please me. Usually, with the old guys, I don't hang around too long because they tire easily. If you really dig a pad, see, and you want to stay a couple of weeks all you have to do is pretend that you are a little young hot-pants kid that really-likes to lick'em. That drives them crazy every time!"
BOOK THREE
GOING DOWN THE HARD WAY
Throughout the "Now Generation," the American female had risen to the head of the class. Her sexual revolution has earned her a new precedence over the less adroit American male. The male now has to acknowledge the "space-age" woman. He no longer can shout, I am superior because I wield the shaft of life. In rebuttal to his boasting, the modern woman, equipped with her birth control pills, retaliates: "Yes, but it is I who is gifted with endurance!" Thus for the first time in man's history on earth, his mate, the female, has the right to free-thinking, and to execute her whims. In other words, if he chooses to be promiscuous and violates the marriage vows, she too may be equally as promiscuous and there will be no tell-tale evidence to give her away.
Thus arose the miniskirt rebellion, and millions of women saw this ray of hope as truly being sent from heaven above! Not only could she cohabitate, but she could also display her feminine, fleshy treasures as well.
Many who think of themselves as philosophers of modern times and those who pretend to have learned knowledge, and to being experts on sex, state that the female's willingness to dare promiscuity, has thrown this country's moral standards into a tailspin. To paraphrase an out-dated quip: Sex, not money, is the root of all evil.
What kinds of women are answering the so-called "call of the wild?" Is there a particular level from which these promiscuous women came?
Mrs. Alice Marcus was a housewife with two small daughters. Her husband was a prominent realtor. For the most part, Mrs. Marcus was a good housewife and dedicated mother.
Mrs. Marcus: "Howard is a good husband to me, and I guess I should not complain as much as I do. But you see I'm ten years younger than he and our sexual desires or capabilities are not equal. I'm not a nymphomaniac, but I do find sex enjoyable. Howard has that stupid job of his that keeps him tired and useless, so one day I'm reading this article about the sexual effects of marijuana. When
I put it down I had a plan already devised for my non-loving husband.
"I knew that Howard, being the dud that he is, would never agree to our smoking pot, not unless I could convince him that it would heighten his sexual wants. But first I had to try it myself. Now, this might sound funny to you, Mr. Sheldon, but I didn't intend any extra-marital activities. I wanted to see if it made you high like they said. I didn't need another man to make me horny because I assure you I was always ready:
Little Norma Harrington next door was one of those hippie kids, and I asked her if she could get some marijuana from her supplier for me. A day later, she called and said that she had given this boy my address, and he would deliver it to my house the following day.
"That morning I was washing dishes. The kids had gone over to their grandmother's because I didn't want to try marijuana when they were around. They were getting to that age, you know? I was busy at something or other and had almost forgotten about this guy's coming. When I heard the door bell ring, it startled me! My gawd, I was wearing that old cotton dress of mine that's about three years old; my mother gave it to me. The dress was terrible. I had taken a shower earlier and just slipped into it because it was available, but you should have seen the way it fitted me. I had gained about 15 pounds and I must have looked like a middle-aged sausage the way I was stuffed into it. Everything was showing-the bodice was too small, and I couldn't get the top three buttons closed, but it was all right to work around the house in.
"The boy came in and looked at me in disbelief. I guess he didn't believe a woman of my caliber wanted to smoke pot. I ushered him in and he went into the living room. Actually, he was a very handsome looking boy, had it not been for his growth of hair that made him look like a sixteen year old Santa Claus!
"My name is Smith. Norma said you wanted to buy a lid, right?" he asked me, taking out this plastic bag filled with stuff that looked like dead grass. "Do you know how to smoke it, is this the first time that you've turned-on?"
"Yes..." I said, listening to the softness of his voice. They were right when they said that these hippie boys had easy going manners.
"I'll show you how. I've got time. Are we here all alone?" he asked me, looking about the living room.
For some reason I didn't like the way he asked that. I told him that we were alone and saw his eyes travel over my body. He had the strangest eyes, like they knew that I had nothing on under my dress. I felt a tingle, or more like a cold chill, knowing that I was alone with a complete stranger. But I assured myself that he was okay.
I watched him, and the painstaking routine he went through cleaning the seeds away from the marijuana stock, and then rolling it into a joint. When it was finished he looked up at me.
"Go on-light it up," he said casually.
"Oh, now wait a minute ... I don't know what to do. Will it affect me in a strange way?" I asked him, really doubtful about smoking it with a stranger.
"No. Marijuana never makes you want to do anything that you wouldn't ordinarily do in your straight-mind. Have you ever been drunk? Well, it's almost the same sensation, except that you are happy and you don't act stupid, or have to puke."
'Ohhhh?" I said, seeing that he was lighting it and taking a drag. Then he passed it to me and instructed me how to do it.
When the cigarette was finished, I sat there and looked around the room. I did feel rather listless, without motivation-or any wish to be troubled with the rest of the day's chores. Then all of a sudden I felt free ... as if I was a kid again.
"How do you feel now, Mrs. Marcus?" the boy asked.
I don't know if I answered his question or not, because the radio was playing this dreamy music and I was suddenly hearing real music for the first time ... every instrument that was playing! I felt even happier and I kicked off my shoes. Strange, I thought. I curled up on the sofa, forgetting that Smith was still in the room with me. I knew that I wasn't sitting in a lady-like position because my dress was way the hell up my thighs. But it didn't bother me. After all, Smith was only a kid. Why shouldn't a boy see what a real woman looked like? He was old enough to appreciate ... strange, but it was good that he saw me this way. In fact he was the first man that ever really looked at me. I was the REAL me!
"How do you feel, Smith?" I asked, and he nodded and stood up to leave. "Oh, don't go ... may I ask you something? You might think me a silly old woman-but does this stuff really work when you kids make love? Does it prolong orgasms?"
Smith stood over and in my state of mind he was as tall as a giant-like a muscular Greek God. And his beard made him look even more god-like.
"Yeah ... it's pretty groovy stuff. You'll see when you and your husband use it together." He sounded sincere at this point.
"Oh shit! My husband is a dud! What I need is-"
I had to catch myself up short; the words were rushing from my mouth and I couldn't stop them. "What I need is a young man like yourself. Would you show me what you kids do-I'd love to be a young girl again."
Suddenly I was crying. I just couldn't explain it, but I sat there and cried like a big dodo! Smith came closer until I could see his crotch in front of my face.
"What's the hang-up? Isn't your husband giving you enough?"
His voice was more mature now, and I knew that he was getting horny by the raspy sound in his throat. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again he was naked! I blinked, thinking that the pot was playing some hallucinatory trick on me.
But I felt this thin, hot skin brushing against my lips.
"Is this what the young girls do for you boys?" I took his penis in my hand. It was alive and throbbing ... I kissed it, and felt his whole body tremble.
He said, "Are you sure there's nobody home?"
I told him that there wasn't, and then he pulled me to my feet. I had trouble standing, but Smith was strong for his age.
"You wanna show me where the bedroom is?" he asked very politely, and I pointed upstairs.
"I don't think I want to go there ... I couldn't ... up there ... it's my marriage bed ... and you're not supposed to..." I faintly mumbled, and my words trailed off over the room, making an echo.
"Right here is fine with me-" he said and grabbed my ass and tried to pull up my dress. It was strange because my subconscious was really battling with my morals. He was only a boy and I didn't really know if he could please me or not. Did I want to do it with him so badly that I would betray my husband? I had to find out!
Smith was suddenly like a crazy person, or more like a boy that had just found a bag of jelly beans and didn't know which one to eat first. He plunged his hands into my bra. "Gawdamn they sure are big!"
I asked him what did he expect, and told him that I was a mature woman. I let him take one out and he kissed and sucked over it, and his penis started to get hard as a rock.
"Hurry. My husband will be home soon. Will you fuck me?"
We were on the couch and he was trying his best to hold me still enough to put his cock in me. Then there it was! And wow! So beautiful it was, and so surprisingly, much bigger than my husband. I must have gone out of my head with the glorious orgasm he gave me. And after the first half hour, he kissed my body all over and made these funny noises. He turned me over on my stomach and toyed with my cheeks. They were his and he churned and ground at them, then bent lower and used his tongue to give me another orgasm.
But neither one of us heard the door open and neither saw my husband standing there alongside of the sofa!
Manny Brooks was a Negro, and an amateur photographer, and he freely admitted to me that he was a little promiscuous when it came to other men's women, and that included his wife's mother! He readily agreed that there was a descent from age-old, established society rules regarding free-love.
Manny told it this way: "Well, Mr. Sheldon, I've been through it all; I was quite a lover in my day! I jus' dig women-all kinds, and I know what they are all about. I mean, I know the basic psychology that usually makes 'em tick. All yuh got to do is make 'em listen, and then it's free sailing into the bedroom. Now take my marriage for instance.
I met and married my wife in a small town, and small towns usually have a lot of underground screwing goin' on. like the local minister was sticking all the widows in the church, and wives would sneak out and fuck their girl friends' husbands. It was real far out.
My wife was the youngest of four sisters. They were all good looking colored women, and they were all stuck on themselves! Especially my wife. She was the worst of the bunch. Good wife, but thought she had everything goin' for herself, and she did have a good shape. In fact, they all had big, fine asses and fine legs like most black women do. Yuh know, the real, earthy salt of the world.
"Before we were together a year, I had screwed everybody in her family; all four sisters. It was easy to screw 'em because they were all jealous of my wife and wanted to see what I had on the ball. My wife had told 'em that I had a big dick, and that I kept her pooped-out all the time. But the one I really wanted was her mother. That's a story in itself.
Her mother was a fine woman in spite of her forty-eight years. And man! Did she have a set of hips on her, and that ass was so nice and compact-it made yuh almost shoot off in your pants. I ain't never seen no black woman, or white one, for that matter, that was as sexy as she was. She was sorta short-which made her legs and thighs sorta heavy with feathery softness. like everybody knows that the older a woman is the softer they are. Young girls have nice figures, and some of 'em have shapely asses, but they can't do with it what an older broad can!
My wife's mother was like that; she never wore a dress. She said pants were more comfortable-like all of-today's women say. But I knew those skintight pants were worn to show off that fat ass of hers. And her ass was really big, and it pouted and made pert eclipses, and those pants sat snug up into her crack. Yuh could even see where her drawers were beneath, and how those soft, big thighs bulged and welled over into a fat mound of a pussy.
"Yuh know, all these things yuh could sees if yuh were a observant girl-watcher. It was obvious that she purposely kept her pants pulled tight over her pussy mound so men could see how much hair there was there. And man, it was a lot; I'll get back to this later.
Well, anyway, she drank a lot, and she cursed like a sailor; this was so that men wouldn't ask her for pussy, because she knew that she had to give it to 'em. Her love for big cocked men kept her horny as hell. The reason she drank was because her first husband had run off and left her pregnant with her first daughter. So to get him back, she fucked most of the husband's pals to make him want her back. But her husband didn't ever come back because, what she didn't know was they all teased him about how good his wife's pussy was!
"She never got enough and would do it with anybody as long as they had stiff pricks. I learned all this through this married guy that she was going with who was also givin' her money for goin' to bed with him. He told me that her reputation back home was so bad that she had to move to California to raise her kids.
"Whenever she would visit my wife and me, she would sit with her legs open, and look up real quick to see if I was looking down at her pussy. I would be, naturally, but I was keener than she was. I knew the one thing she couldn't take was to be ignored. I would always say things like: 'Boy yuh sure did raise a fine, sexy daughter! I'm the luckiest man in town!' That would make her almost bust her girdle, and she would get real cold-faced.
"One night when my wife was at night school, she stopped by. She knew damn well that she was gone every Wednesday evening. I was taking a nap and had jus' my jockey shorts on. I thought my wife had forgotten her key. When I opened the door, my cock had slipped to one side, and was stickin' out. I couldn't close the door in time, and she saw it! Right away, she started giggling and pushing her way inside. 'Ohhhh, ain't yuh ashamed of yo'self-yuh ain't got nothing in those drawers to hide. Are yuh ashamed of me?" she said folding her arms and jutting out her hips.
"Well, things like that happened several times, her teasing and sayin' sexy things. My wife changed her shift, and she had to work nights for about a week or so. Her mother came over one night while I had my camera equipment out in the front room. So just to see how far she would go, I asked to take some shots of her. The first thing she does, is tell me how she wouldn't look good in a bathing suit. I didn't say a word about how I wanted her to pose. 'Naw, baby yuh ain't gett'n old. Yuh still got a fine figure...' As I said this, she turned her fat ass to me to make sure I didn't leave anything out, ' ... jus' look at how fine and nice your hips are. Yuh should let me take your picture. It's really somethin', that yuh could be the mother of five daughters. But I can see where they get that sexiness from!' I said.
"Women today always say how fat they are getting; you know the cat and mouse game. What they are actually sayin' is please admire my figure. Because if something is bad, you don't draw attention to it. like the miniskirt-what the hell? They get shorter when a girl wants to show you more of what she's got. She's proud to have a man see her thighs-jus' to know that she can turn a man on! And that was the kind of woman my wife's mother was!
"In no time at all, she had gone into the bedroom to change into a bathin' suit. When she came out she said, 'Hey! This is too small for me. This thing must be one them bikini things,' I told her. 'Yuh look good in it,' I look down at how the suit cut into her fleshy, big thighs, and molded them cheeks of hers like pillows. Her ass was hangin' out of the bottoms and shakin' like mad! And not once did she make an effort to pull the bottom to cover herself. It only covered about a third of her ass and you could see how the cheeks swelled up over the material.
"I wanted to go over and grab them babies right then. Then she turned around. She did it as if she was a model showing off a fabulous body! The little halter was tight and her big old brown tits popped over the V of it ... and I thought how some lucky dog must really suck on them babies. I thought how she must wiggle and squirm when you took them babies into your mouth and sucked them thick, stiff nipples. I could see them inside the material, and I had never seen a woman's nipples so hard and juttin' up that way. Her stomach was the only bad thing about her-this was the tell-tale sign. She was gettin' the middle age spread, if you know what I mean. And it was a shame because all the other parts of her were too much. She had a real sexy navel. I didn't usually enjoy lookin' at navels, but there were thin traces of hair growin' around hers. They trailed down to the top of her bottoms where I could see a lot of little hairs stickin' up.
"Her short thighs were so big and pretty that they looked like they were swollen. Her sorta reddish tan skin made her all the more desirable. Right in her crotch was what turned me on! When I saw how much hair there was sticking out from under the material, I damn near dropped the camera!
"Yuh hurry up, ya' hear?" she said to me, ""before one of the childrens come home! I wouldn't want my daughter to see me in this outfit!"
"I knew what she was trying to tell me. 'Oh-don't worry. I won't show them to anyone until you've seen 'em. If you don't like them, we'll throw them away.'
"Shit. I didn't give a damn about gettin' no good picture. It was jus' the easiest way to get her down where she had nothin' on. To me, the bathing suit was the same thing as standin' in front of me in underwear. Only the bikini showed more of her nakedness. Women are funny that way. Here she was half naked and feelin' no pain about it, when if we were sittin' down havin' dinner, and her skirt was up too high, she'd act all frustrated and pull it down! But the way she was then, was better than seein' her naked.
"So we went through all the notions, with her look'n up at my cock ever so often to see if she was gettin' me hot. I asked her for a shot with her lying on her back with her legs facin' me and the camera. In my imagination it represented her being on a bed waitin' for a man to take off his clothes and come and fuck her ... and as I watched carefully, her expression changed. She got the mood of the thing and for a moment she closed her eyes-right before lookin' at my cock. It was quite a game because she pretended that she didn't know how to pose, and would bring her legs far apart; jus' long enough for me to suddenly see her pussy exposed. It thrilled her and challenged her womanly instincts, because she knew that she was actually lettin' her daughter's husband see the mother's pussy. In her mind she wanted to see what her offspring was gettin' in the way of size and things!
"The next shot was with her on her stomach. This was a good shot to really find out all about a woman. If she closed her legs real tight, that' meant that she was sorta discreet about who fucked her, and more than likely she had a tight vagina. You know, like if a man had a large penis and it hurt her-she'd naturally stiffen up to guard her flower. These kind of women usually resent posin' when their buttocks are exposed; it told too much, and displayed too much! But my wife's mother jus' flopped over on the rug and took up the pose I thought she would take. Her thighs were wide apart-as if she knew that the camera was only gettin' shots of her vital parts, like around her cheeks, and in between where her crotch was. She even looked off, not botherin' to pose her head.
"Well, hell-I jus' couldn't take it any longer! I had to touch her, maybe feel how soft and good those legs were. I put the camera down and stepped over her. 'Here, let me fix this for you. Your legs should be this way.' I said and leaned over and put both hands around her right thigh; real close to her crotch. All the while I got a better look at the hair peekin' out of her bottoms.
"Well, how do you want them?" she asked in an annoyed tone of voice; knowing that I was close now and saw all of her beauty marks. There were stretch-marks around her upper thighs where she had once been over riped. Women don't like for you to see these things-it embarrasses them to know where they were ripenin'. 'I'll show you-jus' relax a minute and let me fix'm.'
"I raised her legs and slowly brought my hand back to her crotch and quickly rubbed it again. I watched and waited for some reaction. I did it again and this time I felt her softness and gripped her tight around the pussy area. 'What are yuh doing ... are yuh going to take the picture or not?"
I replied, "Yeah, only let's open them up a little bit." Her thighs came open slowly, freely. 'C'mon boy! I don't want yuh to see all of me down there ... I told yuh I was too old for this kinda thing...'
"I put my hand on her neck and caressed it there, and whispered into her ear. T don't think you are-' She tossed her head like a stallion and we were underway, and that's how it all started, Mr. Sheldon."
"Well-did you get a chance to further develop your theory about older women?" I asked Manny, feeling as though I had been left hanging on a ledge.
"It jus' proved my point," he said, smiling and looking rather sheepish. " ... like when I was fucking her, she almost went wild. Old women can't take that hot, young peter, the way a younger girl can. They are more patient and more understandin' about jus' how important a young virile man can be. like, she would do the right thing at the right moment. I was really pumpin' it to her when I first got in, and I was so turned-on having finally gotten to screw her. To me, that was a big thing; I had laid all the sisters, and now I was finally getting the cream of the crop. So I went a little too fast! But she reached up and put her tongue in my ear and said, 'Do mama slow, baby! Make it nasty ... for me. I wanna see how big it can get!' And instantly I was compelled to slow down and really dig what was happenin'. What she did with her muscles and contractions drove me damn near out of mind! She could make that cunt large or small, to the ultimate degrees-if you know what I mean. And like I said, old ladies know a lot. like she knew that I was real sensitive around the head of my penis and she made her hot, soupy pussy grab it ... even if I tried to push it in further ... she sorta closed in around it. 'Do I do it as good as my daughter?' I nodded and kept on pumpin' her. Her words playin' havoc in my ear; makin my peter all that much harder.
"There were other things that she did to make you come too. Jus' as it was gettin' real good-she would say: 'Enhuh, stop, git off me boy! I shouldn't oughta' be lettin' you fuck me like this-git off me!' She'd move jus' a little bit and slipped me out of her, almost right to the very brink ... and I'd hustle like a dog to get a nut before I slid out! I must have popped off about two times that way. The old gal was good, baby! When I got off of her, she walked around the room naked-pretending she couldn't find matches for her cigarette ... and all the time deliberately making that fat ass of hers shake like bowls of jello. Then she would come and stand right in front of me to light it ... but makin' sure that her pussy was jus' inches away from my face. This was to see if I was a tongue man. That hair was all kinky and balled up and looking like a jungle bush ... the way it stuck out; and it grew down her legs like a forest protecting somethin precious.
"She'd look down, real sexy like and say something cynical like: 'Gawdamn Nigger! Don't that thing ever go down? Yuh must screw my daughter to death! I'm gonna haveta see 'bout that!'
"The next thing I know, she's runnin' her fingernails along the shaft of my dick and lickin' it with her tongue. It went on and on, until my dick's strings were taut as violin's ... and jus' when it started throbbin', ready to shoot off ... she put her big lips over it and started suck'n...' HMMM-mmmeeeuh! Sure is a big pretty dick-give mama some of that old nasty come yuh gotta do it in my mouth!'
"Well, Mr. Sheldon, we screwed around until ten o'clock-that was the time my wife got home from night school. Right before she got dressed to leave, I asked her, 'Am I gonna see you agin-will you come over and visit me some more?' She smiled and pinched her titties, stuffin' em down into her brassiere and asked, ' ... yuh gonna give me some more of that good dick ... fuck me like tonight?' And I answered yes, and she said: 'Damn right then! But don't yuh hurt my daughter-yuh save a little bit of that good cock for momma. Yuh hear?"
"All that you say is fine, but don't you think that in your wife's mother's case-she was already promiscuous before she came to California? Her sexual exploits would especially affect the polls taken today."
"No-yuh asked me about the women's morals in the Now Generation-right."
"Right-"
"Well dig-the only reason she did it with me was because she was using birth control pills ... and so is the case of today's decline in feminine morals."
I concluded the interview.
There is a leading tennis club that sits in one of the northern California parks. (I am not at liberty here to give the name, for reasons that will follow.) In the early morning hours your will find literally dozens of middle-aged wives of the city's more prominent civic leaders and socialites. There is an underground love circle that exists with only those ladies in the know. It was my good luck to have interviewed one of the wealthiest matrons in the social whirl.
She will be referred to here as Mrs. Merriweather.
Mrs. Merriweather told me: "I'm not ashamed of myself, Mr. Sheldon, and I feel that perhaps through your research work, you may enlighten a few dumb, thoughtless, maladroit males in this country. I hope your book is a success. No, I'm not ashamed to admit that I have a lover, and he's a black man. His name is Tom. I'll add that every woman here in this club was panting like an ape to get him for herself. That was before I started playing tennis down here on Tuesdays. My story is much like that of many loyal, dedicated homemakers who drift away to break their marriage vows.
"Plain and simple, my husband was incapable of satisfying my sexual needs. We discussed, it many times and quite openly. I had heard through the social grapevine that women were coming here to seek the companionship of Negro men. There are several that play here. I was also told that there were no strings attached, and the men were more than willing to service them for a small fee, of course. That was how I met Tom.
"The situation is ideal, because from the hours of eight until six p.m. my husband is away at the office. He agrees that I should play more tennis to stay slim the way he-likes me."
"Mrs. Merriweather, are there very many women like yourself, who are turning to this? What percentage of the women here in this city would you say are members of such clubs?" I asked.
"I have no idea, except that there must be hundreds in this city that are lonely as I am. And why not allow yourself a bit of extra pleasure? You've heard the media report that in no time in our history has the nation been so rampant. Live now, and forget about tomorrow. That's what I believe, and I'm 56 years old. I don't have much time left."
During my survey I discovered one point that the average males all agreed on, that they all expect their wives to be unfaithful. It was the general feeling, even by those males who had been happily married for great lengths of time. Many of the men that I questioned gave the customary reasons why women were able to indulge in extra-marital relations. The use of the birth control pills and other perfected contraceptives ranked high as a major cause.
However, 80 per cent confessed that they had expected to break their own marriage vows as early as their wedding night.
Almost no one stated that wives cheated because they, themselves, cheated. In essence, man could engage in extra-marital sexual experiences, but the female was expected not to.
It was agreed too, that women were curious creatures by nature-and they by instinct, like the cat, are compelled to investigate all that goes on around them.
A woman's life is dedicated at a very early age to servicing man. The first toy she is given, in complete opposition to those toys given the male child, is a doll. She is woman, her organs differ from man's. Her breasts, menstrual changes, etc., all rendering her nervous system to stimulate that of the male's.
Today, in our space-age era, the female has taken a close look at her position in the Anglo-Saxon, puritan rules of society. The young female finds them far too restrictive, and for the first time in modern man's history, have decided to break the shackles of morality that puts a premium on her sexual activities. The man floats about like the lustful animal that he is, having intercourse with any female he desires, and society places no restriction on his escapades. But the female of our time has managed to see the hypocrisy, and that it is man who sets all of the governmental laws, and the standards for social and sexual behavior. Indeed, today the female revolution has run rampant and cursed many red-blooded males and has clearly and vividly shouted that there is no longer any validity in the saying that it's a man's world! Thus giving those males who believe that adultery is unavoidable in marriage, more salt for ailing wounds.
Anne Shaffer explained it this way: "Men deserve what they get. They are building rockets to the moon and turning-on, expanding their minds to astronomical intellectual discoveries and yet they want to keep their women on a caveman level, and I say to hell with these types! Men don't realize what torture-sexual torture, a woman must go through to please their organiastic desires. They don't know what suffering there is in labor pains, the annoyance of having menstruation monthly. Almost every part of the female's body points to sex."
"Could you elaborate more specifically on what you mean by that?" I questioned.
"When a woman takes a shower, she cannot help but think of sex-you have to give extra hygienic care to washing vital organs. Each time I apply soap over my breasts, I am made aware of them. My erotic zones are highly sensitive there. And what's the first part of a woman's body a man reaches for?"
I answered, "Her breasts. But then too-when a couple first starts dating they are usually confined to movies, dinners, or dances. One reason for the over-practice of breast fondling in comparison to the more direct caressing of a woman's center, is that a woman's breasts are the easiest to get at. Would this then be the reason?"
"That and the fact that men know that a woman is really sensitive there. Naturally it is not so in all cases-but a philosopher once wrote: 'You have but to whisper warm breath upon a woman's breasts and she is transformed into a harlot or a creature, and her petal is thus opened.' There are other things too, that men forget. We have to wear girdles, panties, brassieres, garter belts, high-heel shoes and dresses-as opposed to pants. The cosmetic and hair tint businesses in this country would fall flat on their faces if it weren't for their exploiting the vanity of the female. We are reminded every minute of the day that we are women. Which is to say that we have breasts, and a vagina that wills not only OUR souls, but man's as well. You're made to feel like a piece of cheese and the male rat wants to stick his penis in you! Sure women are becoming more promiscuous and departing from the outdated concept of having only one lover! I'd say it's about time all women woke up as I did! If women are going to be shoved into the background and be treated like a dog, then they should fuck like dogs, and get their full enjoyment too!"
Thus was one militant female's theory, and there are thousands like her that are joining the rebellion.
However, not all explained it in quite such explicit terms.
Another: "I'm married and I have a lovely baby daughter. For a long while my husband and I were separated while he was finishing out his military obligation. I remember in all that time we were apart I had one lover. I felt that he knew that I was going to need sex, and when he came home he never mentioned it once. But first let me explain that there's nothing wrong with my husband. He's a skinny man and maybe a little zealous and has a flirty nature-but in those early stages of our marriage he tried his damnedest to please me in bed. In fact he went beyond regular things. After he would have intercourse with me, he'd kiss my clit and my buttocks and everything.
"Psychologically all this was to keep me sexually happy while he was out Tuesday and Saturday nights screwing around. A big farce, because later I found out that a lot of husbands eat pussy because they can't raise a stiff penis! Especially when they've been out every night fucking the other woman! And this was the routine my husband used on me. If he wanted to go out with the boys, he'd come over to me and take my tit out and suck on it. Often times I'd be sitting down and he'd come over, raise my hips and slip my panties down and eat it. It worked because by ten o'clock I'd be so sleepy and he'd have a perfect excuse to go out and cat around!"
"If that was the case what reason was there to desire outside interests?"
"Because it's detrimental to a woman's pride to have her husband say her lovemaking is the best in the world, but he chases other holes! Not only that, but if my husband got such a bang out of sucking cunt, it stood to reason that he was also doing the same to the street whores. To answer your question, the birth control pill can either heighten or lessen a woman's sexual drive. With me, it's increased my desires. You can call it revenge, call it nymphomania or just plain animalistic, but I wanted other men. For instance, one of his best friends gave me a sexual FIT whenever I saw the guy. He had a beautiful body. He was a big man, and I just knew his penis was fatter snd longer than my husband's, so I let him lay me, and afterwards he didn't eat my cunt. So I reversed it and did him the favor. And just to show you that my theory does have merit, the first time that I kissed my husband's penis, he nearly blew the roof off the house! 'What the hell have you been doing while I was at work? Who taught you that?' he bellowed, and you see, that's the way a man's mind works-in direct reverse. You just think about it Mr. Sheldon."
A male's opinion: "I think bitches jus' can't help but want to screw. This pill is jus' a lotta' shit, man! Sometimes when I'm walkin' downtown-there'll be a chick comin' toward me-and I ain't seen it fail yet, the broad will look over at me in a sly way. It's the same thing when a guy pulls up alongside you in a car-the broad with him, sitting right up under his arm, will flirt with the other guy in the passing cars. Which tells me that bitches jus' love to be admired, and flirted with. They like that kinda shit; worshipers of the penis, yuh know!
"Now take this buddy of mine. He and his ole lady broke up, see? Now the guy was bellyaching about how much he loved the broad. He used to tell me how good his wife could screw and all that kinda stuff, see? He told me that she was sorta freakish; like kissing him in places people don't usually kiss people. He was really concerned because his wife was no bad looker, you know? And she wasn't, you seen the type I mean ... that kind of chick who will walk around in front of you in short-shorts, and walk kinda nasty, like their pussies are all juicy and hot inside. They add spice to their strut and wiggle their asses jus' to make a guy get a hard on. Well, this was this guy's big obsession. But, the only thing is, she was stuck on herself, and liked to make guys sweat to get in her pants. One day I was over to their place when he wasn't home, and she lifted her dress and showed me her pussy. I wanted to fuck her right then but their kid was home. She enjoyed teasing me, knowing I'd never try anything with the kid there!
"Anyway, this guy loved her, and made a complete fool of himself begging her to come back to him. Still, how do you tell a good buddy that his ex-wife is fucking every cock that gets shook at her? I mean that literally-the first time I got her all alone, I didn't kiss her or rub her ass or feel her up. I jus' reached down and opened up my fly and showed her my cock. Quicker than you can wink, she was naked and had my cock in her all the way up to her hilt. That's why I believe that women just cannot help being promiscuous! The lust of the flesh is jus' too strong in 'em!"
It is said by many scientists that the woman generally feels inferior to the man in matters of sex. She sees that the male is larger in size, he is muscular, and his brute strength is admirable to her. It can be safely said that at one time or other, every woman has wished that she was a male. The male has more freedom as a youth; he climbs trees, plays football, and drives fast automobiles. Through the difficult early years of youth, she is a secondary human being. Even in times of war. man is drafted and the victory is his.
Sexually, the man was less restricted, thereby giving him the advantage of having more knowledge and experience. His having society's approval to act as an animal and devour any female of his liking sets the standard that put a damper on her sexual wandering. The one thing that woman's curiosity sought most-man had knowledge of: "Do I do it just right? Am I pleasing you? Am I better than any one else you've had? Will you show me what to do?" All are questions the average male hears as a teenager from his virginal girlfriend. She lingers a long while in a state of virginhood-because it was too embarrassing and it wounds her pride to display her sexual ignorance.
Usually she relates to the male phallus as being his tower of strength. His source of fire and emotional out-put which restores the soul of her feminine body and fulfills her needs. They both resent the other-because throughout the centuries, no one has yet determined which of the sexes is superior, which genital organ vibrates the greater enjoyment. However, generally, it is the male animal who is found on top to insert his penis, and it is he that perspires, and he that cannot refuel so quickly as to dare a third or fourth try at coition. It is generally he that stalks for a mate; but, in fact, it is the woman who is the hunter.
Today, in 1968, the miniskirt rebellion has said once more that woman has the greater resource supply. It appears that her ever-longing desire for physical love would crown her queen and winner in the "unsatisfied-department." Men scream because they somehow know they can never meet the rising sexual demands of the adroit female.
Mr. Clyde Hanson related this in a recent report: "Ever since my wife, Alice, has been taking those birth control pills all she wants to do is screw. It's made her gain weight too, although that part of it I don't mind-but she's like a different person. Alice's whole personality has changed. Our whole thing now, is discussions about sex! She has me taking vitamin pills to keep a hard on; and there's always junk she gets through the mail about prolonging the male potency past the age of 45. In the bed it's a war of endurance rather than anything else. Alice is a big woman, with a big, wide ass, and I give her all the cock that I can-and it's like dropping off into the ocean. Lately she's been asking me to ram it to her all the more harder because she says that it proves my undying love for her! And do you know what the latest thing is now? A sex club. A community love orgy is what it is! I think that's carrying it a little too far ... don't you? There's just no pleasing a woman nowadays!"
Another: "There seems to be some kind of conspiracy against the younger women. You see all these middle age old ladies out on the town nowadays. You find them in bars and it's pretty obvious that they have families at home. I think that all the talk across the nation about the youth wanting their say now regarding sex, politics and equality, has somehow threatened the sexual establishment too. If you read the fashion section of your paper, or the leading women magazines, you'll find there is a big push on to design mini-dresses for older women without the good figure that her younger rival has. The big question is whether or not the older gals should wear their hemlines six inches above their knees. The way I figure, it is that the older women don't like to admit that they are getting old and flabby, which means young men will not want to go to bed with them. The younger girls have heard for the longest time that young men prefer having intercourse with older women, so not only have they launched their fight against the stogy establishment, but they are tempting the young men back into sexual capers with girls their own age. This invariably means that the supply of young penises will drop in number for the women in their late thirties and early forties!
"Young men can now see what the older generation has told them was forbidden to see; the upper portion of the female's body. Previously, the only time a young man saw upper thighs was when he was pulling up his girlfriend's dress to finger-fuck her. The old thing about putting mirrors on your feet to look under a girl's dress is outdated. Now the girls are willing to show you what is happening under there! They have even gone so far as to design interesting, psychedelic lacings, and bright colors around the fringes of their underwear, thus making the young man look twice before he passes her to chase what was once termed as mature pussy.
"This puts the old gals at a disadvantage! They are supposed to be the good puritan matron, that represents this country's pride. The younger gals can get away with any visual form of promiscuity because 'girl-watchers' and the national critics will only say: "Those crazy kids!' or 'My oh, my! Aren't the youths of today rebellious!' "
"They cannot say this of a lady of stature representing the image of motherhood, or those women in their late thirties who try to wear short skirts that shows off their growing flabbiness, and their varicose veins, and stretch marks, and protruding stomachs, and most importantly, the decaying flesh that has caked around their thighs that tell of aging. Generally young men feel that it is some sort of a gift when an older woman invites them to have sex with them; it is their chance to gain more experiences in perfecting lovemaking.
"So as far as I'm concerned, that's what's happening today ... the young girls are really becoming freer, and the pill dictates that they may have a will of their own. The older gals have decided that they cannot be choicy any longer, and they have thrown up their willingness, and society's laws, for grabs! Before it is too late and they can't rumble in the grass!"
The subject's thoughts raised some doubt in my mind and I immediately began conducting interviews with younger women to see if there was any sizable number of others who held these same convictions. It was in the midst of summer and I thought what better place to conduct my research than along the beaches of Santa Monica, California.
The first young lady that I interviewed was more than willing to assist me in my study and was an avid subject.
She began: "Golly, all that you have told me really does make sense, (She was referring to my having explained the general feeling of the older female versus the young one in seeking sexual freedom.) If you will permit me to be objective about it ... and honest, I'll tell you about myself. When I first moved to California, I was startled at the girls all wearing bikinis. They were younger than I, and my mother really had to be talked down before she'd let me wear one down here on the beach. I guess I was a little green at that age, but I quickly caught on to what was happening around me. I started digging how the chicks would purposely display their stuff in front of boys that they had the hots for! I've been coming down here to this beach for nearly three years every summer, and I haven't seen one bikini that fits!
"When you mentioned the fact about wanting to get boys to admire you ... it's true, sorta. I mean, I didn't like the miniskirts at first because my legs were too large, and I am sorta heavy. I weigh about one hundred and twenty nine pounds, and I'm just five feet, six inches. Which mean I have a weight problem around my upper thighs and around my buttocks. So I wasn't too keen about showing off that much in one of those miniskirts. I knew that if I was ever going to get asked out on dates, I was gonna have to turn-on, because the other chicks were sweeping up all the good looking boys at the dances and things! I naturally began wearing the mini, and boys started looking at my legs, and they got worked up over me, sexually, and I got lots of dates! So I really don't mind showing off a little bit of my privates to snag a boy that I really dig-but you do get those nasty ole, propositions!"
Another girl told me: "I don't see why not ... why shouldn't a girl have sexual freedom the same as any man? With the war taking all the guys overseas, a girl has to fight for what she wants! Look at it this way-the older broads, stand a better chance than we younger gals do because they've had longer to practice and to get their thing ready!"
A young man had this to add on the subject matter: "Ah wow! It's too much man! Sure there's a sexual revolution going on between the old gals and the young ones. But it's groovy baby! Dig, ever since the broads have started sneaking, and using the pill, they just give it away. Man, pussy is easier to get than a meal, nowadays! And not too long ago, I met this old gal, who was about 47 years old, and I made it with her-because she said that she was a widow and needed a young man that could really get loose in bed! It's all like a vicious circle-if a young babe ain't willing to show what she got under her miniskirt-some other chick will, and the young ones loses out. And today, nobody, but nobody wants to be a loser, man! It's beautiful for a fella!"
The circle of descent regarding sexual deviation does not stop at the levels of our country's youths. Throughout the country are the cries of thousands of homosexuals who also demand their rights to do their thing. In San Francisco, alone, the number of homosexuals has reached astronomical size drawing many deviates into the city. In Los Angeles, in and around the area of Fifth Street, there are countless "gayboys" that plague the downtown theater district. If one watches their smooth, routine, and methods-you will find that they will follow a prospective victim until he or she, decides to enter into one of the local theaters. The movie houses in that area are all the low type where one can see three features for a half dollar or so. Naturally, there are undesirable elements that will seep into these movie houses, and this is where the homo lurks!
The gayboys in San Francsco work a little differently. Their thing is practiced in bars, particularly those that cater to wealthy, lonely widows. They are also strong on feeding off of young women having newly arrived in the city. These newcomers, after a hard day at the office, drop into their neighborhood bars. Sitting there, looking alone and homesick they're the natural prey of the lesbian and other deviates. This is the path that leads the young innocent to the spiral that can only lead to final degradation.
BOOK FOUR
BLASTING OFF IN BED
Joan Edgar was a star of a daily woman-talk program with a local television network. She had been offered this job because of her best selling book "The Sexual Impulses Of The American Female." In the literary world she was given acclaim as being the voice of the emancipated woman, and her thoughts and theories were broadcast to thousands of viewers! Quite openly Miss Edgar denounced the old established systems, where women were to abide as faithful shadows to their egotistical mates. To sit and watch Miss Edgar's face while she conducted her show, one had the feeling that she was a truly dedicated female.
However, if one knew her case history, and the forces that motivated her true sexual needs, one would observe her highly neurotic behavior.
When she left the television studio evenings, she headed straight for a local bar. There she would sit quietly, gulping down straight shots of scotch, awaiting what would appear to be someone of extreme importance. She would sit, ignoring the few good looking males that might pass a quick glance in her direction. After having waited an hour, she would almost leap from her bar stool at the appearance of a short, stockily built woman standing in the doorway, wearing white pants, high heeled leather boots, and turtle necked sweater.
From the bar Miss Edgar and the companion would journey to her swank penthouse apartment, where a minimum amount of marijuana would be blown-and shaded lamps would cast a romantic atmosphere over the setting. They'd remain there until early dawn, when the two of them could be seen leaving in Miss Edgar's sports car, speeding across town to her early business appointment with the make-up staff at the studio. By show-time, Miss Edgar would resume her stoic appearance for her viewing public and angrily proceed to stir her female viewers with her put-down of the "anti-homosexual" movement with such lusty adjectives as "evil."
"degenerate," etc., depicting these adverse creatures as being a menace to society.
I wondered what her dedicated, faithful women viewers would think if they knew that their leader was not only having an affair with a lesbian, but the lesbian was married as well; not however, to a male, but to another female which gave even more validity to her promiscuousness!
More startling, today's women have gone completely modern in more than one way, for they admit openly and freely, the fact that they are lesbians and feel no shame in so being.
Jean Cartwright was a supervisor for a large corporation that hired mostly females. She openly advocated lesbianism, and sternly informed me that every woman was entitled to have sexual freedom. But not wanting to get into a debate over principles, I directed my questioning along these lines of how she went about seducing a normal female that found the mating of two women repulsive. Or did they?
This is Miss Cartwright's story: "I can't really say when, exactly, that I knew that my affection were more for the female, rather than the male. I come from a normal background. My family was very poor-and the old tale about having a drunken step-father, rings true for me too. My father treated my mother like so much dirt beneath him, and there was no reason for it. Mother was a pretty woman, but he pushed her around all the time. And once when I was in the bathroom, I guess I was about sixteen at the time, he came in. He grabbed me while I was sitting there, and stuck his finger in me while I was urinating. It was the most degrading experience I've ever had! I'll never forget that drunken bastard for doing that! However, that wasn't good enough for him-just because I ran from him, he chased me and decided that he was going to give me something I surely would never forget.
"He trapped me in my bedroom and tore off my clothes. At first I didn't fight because the more you fight a drunk the worst it gets for you. He threw me on the bed, and when I saw him reach and get a coke bottle I damn near lost my mind. He cocked my legs open and shoved the bottle in me ... and all the time he kept yelling: 'Yuh little filthy, hot-pant whore-always prancing yo' little ass half naked in front of me ... yuh wanted to see if I'd get a hard on for yuh-didn't yuh? Well-here's what yuh were looking for!' From that day on, I've hated men. I experienced more of the same all throughout my college years, and even afterwards when I moved to the city to work.
"For nearly a year I went without a man. It was no sweat or any hardship, like you might imagine. At any rate-I learned about lesbianism by reading magazine articles, and I thought I might like to try it. I did, with a stranger, and I've been turned-on to it ever since. I loved for two years with a very beautiful girl named Grace. But a dyke bitch stole her from me. It was then I realized that there was a high premium set on virginal lesbians.
The world of lesbianism is almost a parallel of the straight world. You have to fight for what you want. The job that I have now, proved to be my salvation. You see, my company hires a large number of girls fresh out of high school, and in fact, it is about the easiest job that a non-experienced girl can get. Which puts me right smack in the midst of young, innocent, luscious girls who need a guiding hand. I guess one of my memorable affairs was with a girl named Sandra.
"Sandra came to work for our office last June, and wow! She had all the guys panting around her like a pack of wolves, hunting pussy in the summer time. Sandra was the most beautiful, sex-pot I had ever seen. The thing that made her so cool was that she didn't know just how appealing she really was. Everything about her, implied that she had hot panties. I used to watch her at work in these miniskirts. The gal had the best legs I had seen on a chick, in a long time. They looked like dancer's legs, not overly muscular, or overly developed ... but smooth the way a woman's should be; no unsightly hairs growing over her calves. Sometimes I'd find myself sitting with my mouth open looking at her wide, ample buttocks rolling around inside her skirt. They looked so round and soft, as if they were waiting to be teased and tasted for goodness. I could tell that she was soft and fleshy, because she had really huge, heavy tits that pointed upward against her blouse and dresses. They jutted out like shapely mountains-and I just knew that she was wearing brassieres with strong support. But nothing she could do could keep those dear things unnoticed.
"I think what I enjoyed most about her was the way she walked. There was a provocativeness that would blow any man's mind, or any lesbian's for that matter. That was when I first began to notice just how many there were working in the office. They were watching her too-and they would sit and watch, just as I would, when Sandra walked across the room. Her legs were so shapely that her thighs made a smooth round curve that made her look as though she was switching when her hips swayed. She was pigeon-toed too, which made her sorta look bowlegged, as if her pussy was really giving her trouble. (I know the feeling quite well, it's something only a woman would know about.) When a woman is horny, and she has large, fleshy thighs, like Sandra, they sweep together when she walks; the softness of her upper thighs, on the in-sides, brushes against her cunt and that teases unbearably. I guess it must be the same thing that happens to men when they are in public places and they suddenly get a hard-on for a woman; just the slightest pressure from their clothes can set them off.
I remember when I was a little girl, I had this professor who really turned me on. I used to get so hot to fuck him, that I sat there in class and drooled over the guy, and creamed in my panties. I soon learned to control my hornyness, but I knew that Sandra hadn't yet. I knew too, that she was still a virgin and it would only be a matter of time before she decided to give some man some of that pussy. I was determined to beat anyone to it. I wanted that young, juicy stuff all to myself!
"I made sure that she and I became good friends-we had lunch together every day. One Friday night, I invited her up to dinner at my place. I bought a couple of bottles of Scotch and we were enjoying ourselves tremendously ... really grooving. She was wearing a mini-shift, that was opened down the front; one of those zipper deals. She sat in front of me with her legs crossed, and I saw all the way up to her thighs to where the top of her stocking cut into her hot fleshiness. She was squeezed into white panties, and the flesh around her ass appeared to be so hot that it was just spilling out. I found it difficult to sit still, and I found myself wiggling my ass so that my cunt was brushing on the cushion. I had to do something to try and relieve my tension before I blew the whole set-up!
I said: "Sandra, have you gotten homesick yet?" T was trying desperately to turn the conversation toward a sexual mode. There was so much that I needed to know about her habits.
"Oh yes-" she said, with her face flushed, and bright pink from all the drinking we were doing. Her blue eyes were sparkling with excitement. "I'm about to go out of my mind! I was so glad when I met you I could have screamed. I mean, like I don't know any guys, and I certainly won't go out with just any of those sex-freaks at our office."
"I know, they all think that girls are hard up for their ... if you will excuse the expression ... big stinky cocks!"
I immediately glanced over at her to see if the use of vile words had any effect on her; it didn't, but she was beginning to twist about.
"Did you have any fellows back in your home town?" I asked.
"No not really-there were a couple of guys, but you know how hairy a thing can get when all the boys want to do is kiss and feel over your bust. I used to get teased a lot about my..."
It wasn't difficult to see why. That night was the first time that I'd noticed just how monumental they really were. Her bodice looked as though she had two balloons inside. I didn't know how, but I was determined to see them naked and suck those gems to death, before Sandra left my apartment.
"Yes, I know how men can be sometimes. I was the same way." I told her, beginning to unleash a plan to get her hot for some sex. " ... but I met this very nice girl, who used to room with me...
"Oh no! Nothing that sordid-I couldn't ever permit another woman to become that friendly."
Sandra was clever and had already known in what direction I was headed, and her having raced to that conclusion-told me that I didn't have to pretend any longer. It was out in the open; she wanted to hear all the good sides to being a lesbian; she wanted to know what sensations there were in lying with another naked woman. Most of all, she wanted to know what an orgasm felt like when a woman sucked and licked at her cunt. Sandra was easy to read; her thing was having someone admire her body. What good were giant sized tits if no one kissed them and played with them? Sure-she wasn't going to wait until she had a baby just for the pleasure of having them nursed. She was just like hundreds of other women; seeking the best possible sexual pleasure from either side of the board that she could get it from.
"How do you know, have you tried?" I asked her.
"Of course not. Have you?" She replied, sorta sitting on the edge of her seat. I sat down, purposely coming a little too close to her to set a picture of closeness. I wanted to attain her trust.
"Well," I said reluctantly, as though I had a big deep secret, " ... I guess I can tell you, honey. I don't think you'd go babbling your mouth off at work. Yes-frankly I have tried it. I lived with a woman for over a year ... and it was the most rewarding experience I've ever had."
"What's it like?"
"Oh Sandra, don't be a put-down. You can't describe something as beautiful as that with mere words. You have to do the thing yourself! And no man can give you what a woman can."
She shook her head as though she was trying to convince herself. All the while her eyes were on me to see how good my figure was; how large my breasts were compared to her own. Her eyes went to my knees and I pulled my skirt up to expose my thighs.
"Oh forgive me, but you just don't look the type. I never would have guessed." she said, " ... well thanks for the drinks but I think I'd better be going."
"Why, do you think that I invited you up here?
To try and seduce you? What makes you think that you're so damn desirable? You're just a kid, Sandra. It wouldn't be worth the time to try and teach you all there is to know about love!" I said sharply and stood up to get her coat.
"I didn't mean to imply anything of the sort. It's only because I'm getting a little dizzy." she lied.
She was damn near drunk, and was more than slow about leaving when the action was starting to get interesting. Finally she realized that I had no further encouraging words, and she got up. In just that flash of seeing her body, my determination was shattered!
Who the hell was I kidding? I wanted her so bad that my guts were tied in knots! I could smell her warmth, and her scent that came from between her legs. I went to her and placed her coat around her shoulders, and for the life of me I couldn't resist letting my hands go over those big tits of hers. What the hell I was damn near four years older than she, what could she do? She would be too ashamed to admit that she had came up here alone with me, knowing that I dug women.
"Don't, please, I really must go. Thank you." She purred.
I snatched her to me and took a firm hold. I grasped all of her tits that I could get a handful of, and I churned them around and around. "No, no, don't do this to me." Her voice was weak and she tried twisting away from me. I gave her the supreme test: I put my right hand down between her legs. Her dress was snug, hut it was just loose enough to take a handful of her cunt.
"What are you afraid of Sandra? Are you afraid that you might enjoy it? You would, sweetie, I assure you. Have you ever had anyone kiss your beautiful body, and those luscious breasts? Or run their tongue into your ear, or suck your own tongue while they kissed you ... or bite into hot, steaming, funky..."
Sandra bucked and bolted with trembling legs and she squatted down as if to let me get under her dress. Her fat little ass grinded back into my pussy, like she wanted to know how hot I was there. She was like a wild, young animal!
I knew then, as I led her into my bedroom that she was going to make a good bed partner. She took off her clothes without my having to ask her-she didn't say a word. Sandra was even more beautiful than I thought she would be. When she was completely naked she drew back against the wall beside the bed. Her hands were to her bosom and then came limply down to her hips and she posed for me. There was a short of placidness about her that was sensual and inviting. Her baby face was highlighted with golden flaxen hair flowing down over her shoulder just to the crest of her throbbing nipples. Her full, pink lips pouted and there were signs of defiance curled at the corner. She broke into a slow delicious smile as she whispered, "What do I do now..."
"Lie down for me." I told her and she quickly obeyed stepping forward, giving her ass a wiggle, sending those big tits shaking in every direction; trembling and bouncing like a passion current! I took my time with the undressing because I wanted to make her blow her mind waiting for me, and the first contact of our bodies. When I was naked I looked'down at her on the bed. She was already beginning to squirm in wonderment. Her tits arched high as mountains, topped with red cherries. Her breath came in passionate gulps.
I stretched out beside her and kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and then her soft, delicate lips. She was such a precious infant-she didn't even know how to kiss. She made moaning sounds, so eager to please me. I pushed my tongue into her mouth and circled it over her teeth, then sucked her tongue into my mouth and bit the tip. She went taut. I raised up and looked down at her, she looked up and her eyes said a thousand things; all condensed in two explosive words: FUCK ME!
Her breasts were like hot, silky tasting peaches, mixed with white whipped cream, and they rose up, impatient to be tongued. There were strains of blonde hair growing in and around her thick jutting ridges. I nippled the hairs with my teeth, and she put her arms around my head and pulled me down to her. I chewed those nipples, and then licked under them, just where the softness eclipsed and met her rib cage. "Ohhhh, please fuck me!" I licked faster, and faster, until poor Sandra was beside herself. I trailed my kisses down to her stomach and teased just to where her pelvis bone jutted, and it was too much for her. She cried out so loudly that I thought she was going to wake the next door neighbors. I calmed her before I lowered my head. Her thighs came open feeling my lips arrive, and her center was openly exposed to me; pouting, parting, and moist with the evidence of her building climax. I had but to touch her slightly with my tongue and prick her clit-but I was saving that for last. I turned her over on to her stomach and kissed the bend of her knees, and licked all the way down to her well trimmed ankles.
I held her foot to my mouth and licked in between her toes; I didn't care about giving her the full treatment. Any other girl, I wouldn't have been that thorough, however Sandra was very special. I had to make sure that I wrapped her up in a neatly packed package marked: MINE EXCLUSIVELY!
There weren't very many women that could stand up to my brand of lovemaking. From her toes I licked up along her legs until I reached the back of her thighs. I saw her beautifully formed buttocks, quivering, and distorted into mounds of hilly, feather softness. She drew up and grabbed at her hair; I slowly lowered my tongue like a dragon's, seeping down to draw out all the fire stored in this lovely creature's volcano! I licked harder, and harder, faster and faster, and came lower into the valley.
Sandra bolted and threw her legs up, trying to escape my kissing. I followed in pursuit, and her hands came down to push me away from her. I was stronger and held her still, as she was folded into a sobbing, hysterical ball, trying desperately not to come! I licked away at her opening and yanked her legs apart so that she was spread-eagled, the way I wanted her. I teased and pricked her pussy-making her clit stand up as stiff as any man's cock! Slowly, I lowered down into it, staring at it, longing for it in my mouth, so that I could give this beautiful witch the grandest time ever!
Sandra now lives with me and we've discussed it most thoroughly, and decided to get married. I know that it will be difficult on her having to live with the bias that exists in this world, but we love each other enough to withstand it! It's going to be a regular wedding and at present, we're searching for a minister who will marry us in his church. We'd both like to have it blessed in the holy name."
In my further studies of the lesbian sirens, I learned many things about their customs and habits For instance, I was told by a tuned-in girlwatcher: "It's easy as hell to spot'em. Just go to any bar and when yuh see a rather healthy, robust looking chick. (There have been no studies to show that one lesbian's characteristics are universal.) Usually they take straight shot of whiskey, and they down it like a man would! Another thing is that they find men repulsive, naturally, when they are out stalking fresh victims. If you meet one in a bar they'll give you the cold shoulder, but quick! I know 'em, buddy!"
However, this was just the opinion of one heterosexual.
I interviewed Gloria Rindner.
"Miss Rindner, have you ever been approached by a lesbian, or by persons whom you thought were?"
"Yes, quite often in fact. For some reason lesbians seem to like me. I know that I'm much too skinny for my height and there's a saying that lesbians prefer thin, fragile women, mostly those that are dykes. I guess this comes from their hearing that skinny women all have small vaginas."
"Tell me, Miss Rindner, just how do they go about it?"
"Mostly when I go into the ladies room at night clubs. They are always one or two hanging around in there. Their come-on is pretty much the same as a man's. If you are at the club unescorted and they know it, they'll flatter you about your looks to start a conversation. You can be standing there applying make-up, and sometimes they'll put a hand on your shoulder and say that they like your shade of cosmetic. But those are the kind that I can't stand. They just hang around to see the chicks come in to fix their stocking, and watch while you use the can.
"Do you know how they actually make love, physically, I mean? How should I know? I have heard other girls say that they kiss you down there-"
"Your vagina and genital zones?"
"And every place else too-your breasts and all over. The same as a man would do."
"Do you personally think that an oral orgasm is better than one that is derived by the male penis?" I asked.
"Personally, I have no way of knowing. I should think that being kissed down there shouldn't be any better than a man's insertion. To me it's just a mild form of masturbating, and a woman doesn't need another woman for that little bit."
"Then you feel that the orgasm produced, or forced through oral stimulation is similar to that of the heterosexual coition?"
"I can't see how it would be anything else. Perhaps the real reason that a lot of women turn on to lesbos, is because they've never had men before!"
"But I'm told that, and my reports show, that prostitutes always go both ways. They can service their male tricks as well as females. Have you heard this also?"
"I've heard it, and I presume this is possible. I can't see how oral love making could be half as good as having the man's penis."
"Why, what's your reason, psychologically?"
"It's psychological I'd say. It's too unnatural for two women to be together. Man is put here on this earth to help reproduction. I can't see how anything, especially a female, can produce the thrill that a man with an abnormal sized penis can ... I mean the way it feels when it's inside a woman's vagina! You have the sensation of being fulfilled because a penis occupies space, and it makes your vagina give off moisture to permit an easy entrance. The natural way is the only way-really."
"Do you think that someday you might eventually permit a lesbian to make love to you? Can you honestly say that you are not curious about what it would be like?"
"That's a hard question to answer. How can anyone answer it? I mean, when you think that in the next two years we may have a man on the moon-times are changing. And if society continues to permit the flow of immoralities to descend, it might be the "thing" to have three or four wives-you never know!"
Innia Dothmeyer was a giant among women. That is to say that she was an exceptionally tall young, gracious lady. She was six feet two inches tall in her stocking feet. Her face can best be described as being that of a movie starlet's. It was rare in that it had all the qualities of an elf. Her face was a masterpiece of exquisite beauty. Her oval face was softly accented by long silky hair that framed her two enormous green eyes. When you looked at her, at a glance, you were quickly reminded of the paintings of the children's with those large, staring eyes, famous all over the world. There were long dark lashes that appeared false-but were her own. There was an eloquently tilted nose and full, luscious wide mouth. So alarming and penetrating were her eyes, that one felt this magnificent tall creature saw right through a man who, perhaps held thoughts of seducing Miss Dothmeyer.
Although she was six feet tall, her proportions were perfect for her height. Her bustline was super, and well formed. Her hips were slender, and her long legs were those of a dancer, and rightly so, because this was how Innia made her living, working as a show girl in Las Vegas.
I met her while she was in Hollywood on a shopping spree; enjoying a two weeks vacation. My attention was drawn to her because this tall, statuesque beauty was literally stopping traffic. She made a breathtaking picture in her micro-mini, complimented by high heeled leather boots. Her slender hips rotated sensually quivering beneath the skirt-and all heads turned as she strutted with the grace of a gazelle-women included.
I followed her, and with the luck of the supreme being that directs my good fortune, Miss Dothmeyer agreed to an interview on the sexual activities that surrounds the working showgirl, in an atmosphere that is constantly plagued with hordes of red-blooded men, always on the make.
She began by telling me about the promiscuity that sometimes tempts a good looking girl if she is unaware, and too trusting of those men with only one thing in mind: "I was very, very, happy to get this job. But I didn't like the part about so many men being around-and what they thought about the showgirls. They all seemed to think just because a girl makes her living dancing in a chorus line, that she can be paid to go to bed with just any playboy. So I stayed away from them as much as possible. The ones you must be careful of are the rich ones. They are the boldest.
"I roomed with Patrica and she was a very nice person. She was so cold looking sometimes, and she was nearly as tall as me. They all were very tall girls and we usually stayed in the same hotel, where we were doing the show. No matter what you think, Las Vegas was very dull for me. My family is German, and as a child I was used to living in the country and riding bicycles ... and all there was to do in the day hours was to gamble or sunbathe. I didn't know it then, but a lot of the girls were funny-they were lesbians and Patrica, I was sure, was one. She always wore these horrible pants that were so tight, around our apartment, and made it a daily habit to walk around without any top on. At first I thought his was natural because we were dancers, and we performed topless. But Patrica did not act like a lady very often. Those horrible pants she wore were so tight that they showed off all of her cracks in her behind.
"Anyway, this one day I was sunbathing out on the terrace and she came out to join me. There was a funny look on her face too. Her features were very dark like mine, and made her look very mysterious, so you never knew what she was thinking all the time. We sat there and talked for awhile and then she offered to put lotion on my back-there was no harm because we did this all the time. However, this day was different. I never noticed how strong her hands were-like a man's hands! 'Patrica...' I asked lying on my back looking up at her, 'why don't you go out very much? All you ever do is work and read books. She told me for the same reason that I did, she thought all men were very phony-and that because of her height, it was sometime tiresome having people continually gawk at your body.
"She was right, because all during the time that I was growing up, and especially when I got to America-men just wanted to fuck me-because they had thought being sexy looking made you that much better in bed. I know too, that they also thought that because I was tall, it was hard for me to find a man as tall as I. And if I did not date, that meant that I would have ... have hot pants ... is that how you say? You know I must be hard up for the penis. And sometimes this is true."
"As Patrica was applying the lotion she suddenly got this faraway look in her eyes. 'Innia, don't you get a little horny-being without a man? The girls are starting to say things about you ... the two of us.' I said, 'Oh?' Knowing that it was all a lie-because she took off my halter-and I didn't ask her to. I felt the coolness of the lotion come over my stomach and her hands came up to my breast. T don't care what THOSE girls say!' I told her as she cupped my right boobie. There was a look that all women know; the look only a horny girl can recognize. A woman can tell when one of her girlfriends needs a man's penis-prem-o-nition ... is how you say ? "
"Yes, it's good enough Innia." I told her, knowing well how difficult it must be for her to use
English-but she was making herself clearly understood.
She continued: "And that is how it all started-she told me she was lonesome-and while she was sweet-talking me, she put her finger in me-not completely-just tickling my clitoris ... and I got weak as butter, and I guess I was embarrassed for letting her see me that horny. I let her do me in the bedroom later."
"Innia, what is the philosophy behind preferring the affection of another woman?
"You might say convenience-when you are at work all night, and sleep most of the day, you never get the chance to meet anyone. You do four shows a day, seven days a week-and there is all the rehearsing in between time ... and its just too difficult. So-it is so much better to have a lover who lives in the apartment with you."
"And the physical difference?"
"Any normal girl does not like the thought of having to play with herself ... no, no, masturbating. I think it is too much like cheating and morally degrading. Lots of girls try other things too-like Patrica showed me all of the funny things ... those libido-you know? Have you seen them, these things that look like a man's penis and the girl sticks it into her vagina hole-and sorta masturbates ... well sometime Patrica would let me watch her do herself. But also-it's really beautiful too, between two women. Whenever Patrica takes me in her arm; it's no other sensation like it ... to feel breasts as warm as your own, and to have soft, tender skin rubbing against you-and her legs are big and pretty. Whenever she lies on top of me, she usually takes the position of the man, and wedges her thighs in between mine. And no matter what you might think, a lot of articles on the subject are misleading about lesbian's practices."
"In what way?"
"They put a dirty title on it and it's not so. What's more natural than for a child to want to cling to it's mother's bosom. This same feeling of warmth and comfort is instilled in a lot of girls even into adulthood. There are lesbians who seduce primarily on this level. For instance, Patrica knew that I was lonely, and that I came from a family where I was overly protected. Without it, I was lost and helpless. It wasn't hard to get me to come around, and afterwards, I'll admit that I wasn't sorry.
"Then the basic attraction between women doesn't have to be physical pleasure alone? It can be a mental psyche that may develop as a child." I said.
"Yes, and then too, a woman knows how to love another one. She knows what ache there is in being neglected by a sex-greedy old man, and all the erotic zones to kiss, exactly where to place her clit-or to fit your own ... to bring about instant or prolonged orgasms. Men are clumsy lovers that think only of theirselves."
"I raped a lesbian once," Bob Ashley told me, " ... but I had a damn good reason to!" He was excited as he started the first in a series of interviews. He continued: "I wish you could have seen my Jeanie, the gal was great-the best cunt a broad could have! We were roars; "or six years, and then she took up with this lesbian bitch! I was working out of San Diego and was gone quite a bit. I didn't like leaving Jeanie alone in that town, because there is a seaport there, and sailors are the horniest bunch of bastards there is.
But Jeanie assured me that she wouldn't flirt with anyone while I was gone. What I forgot was the prostitutes that come over the border from Tijuana, Mexico, and this dame she met at the supermarket was constantly over to our place. She was nice enough, but too quiet; I didn't like the way she-dressed either. She wore these leather boots and skirts, and horrible tight pants that showed off her crack-and everything else! The bitch's name was Mike, which should have told me something then!
"Another thing that I didn't like was how she displayed her shape in front of Jeanie. Jeanie was a simple girl, and I preferred seeing her in dresses, and not show so much of her legs in those mini things! But I can understand the attraction my wife felt toward Mike ... she was a good looking dame. I'd never seen a woman built as perfectly proportioned as she was. Those titties were the biggest I'd seen, and when she walked they bounced like basketballs. I wanted to just walk over to her and bite them babies!
And the way those snug pants smoothed over her big, wide behind of hers was something else! You know how women make you ache just looking at them and at all that good stuff between their legs. I've always a man who dug seeing a healthy ass on a woman, because it shows better than any other part of her body, just what is happening, if a dame has a big round, soft ass, that means that she is uninhibited; she doesn't mind letting a man see how ripe and soft she's gotten ... and she knows damn well you are going to sneak a look at her backside. Now Mike had a juicy ass, and her cheeks were globes that sorta hung down over her thick thighs when she moved ... they rotated counter-clockwise, you know? One cheek went this way, while the other one remained in state, and quivered like crazy! And the way that bitch strutted, really set her ass in motion, with her hips going way-out to one side, and made her tits swing off in the other direction! Up and down, up and down they'd be going, and when she stopped, wow! Those babies would vibrate all over and look like they were going to bust' out of her pants! And what got me, was that she was proud of her ass, and she made sure it was always in Jeanie's face.
"Well, the next thing I know, I come home from work one night and my wife had on this ridiculous miniskirt. I told her to take the damn thing off (although it did look sexy as hell, and she did have good slender legs), and she replied that Mike enjoyed seeing her in it!
That was the first time I'd slapped my wife. A few weeks later, and what did I see? Jeanie standing in the kitchen with these white, tight pants on. They were tight, buddy! I don't mind seeing that sort of outfit on somebody else's wife but not mine! I don't want guys looking under my ole lady's skirt, or looking at her crack in pants. I knew what was happening with my wife and Mike then.
"And you guessed it! I came home around noon one time and there wasn't nobody in the kitchen, or in the back yard. I went upstairs-not that I was expecting anything, but I was quiet going up the stairs, just in case. I heard Jeanie moaning like she was in pain, and I rushed to the bedroom thinking that perhaps she had fallen and hurt herself. I was wrong. Mike was on top of her on the bed, and really working her over-if you know what I mean. The bitch had my wife's legs jacked-up higher than a kite. She was sucking and blowing in her pussy, like she hadn't had a meal in a month of Sundays. But the thing that really hurt was that Jeanie was loving every moment of it. She had her arms around Mike and returning the kissing, and whimpering.
"I stepped back into the hall, although I was pissed as hell. Still I wanted to see what two women did when they were together that way. I had never seen how lesbians operated and it was an unnatural feeling, witnessing the whole thing. I saw my wife buck her head and scream when she had her first orgasm. (She never screamed that way when I balled her.) Mike got off the bed and strutted over to the dresser and lit a smoke. I got to see what she looked like naked. That ass was more beautiful than I had imagined, and fatter too. That turned me around a bit, and I got a hard on standing and looking at all the bouncing and rumbling. She turned and I saw those heavy, pointed tits. Those nipples were small melons sitting on top of larger ones. I looked down further to the conjunction of thighs-those fine looking fleshy legs were so well shaped, and looked as if they were protecting some real good pussy nested in between her hairy cove. I knew then why my wife found her so attractive.
"Mike stood there holding the cigarette, and her hand folded over her stomach. I didn't like the way she seemed to be commanding my wife's actions, like she was a puppy and Mike was the master. Mike stuck out her leg for Jeanie to touch-and my wife was in a trance of some kind, because she put her arms around that leg and began kissing over it. Mike reared back, jutting out her pelvis toward my wife, and that bushy pussy was as thick as a man's cock, and what was worse ... Jeanie seemed to be hypnotized by it all. 'Git a little bit, for momma, Jeanie baby...' Mike whispered and caught her hair and yanked my wife's head back and stuck this cigarette to her lips. 'Are you still high?' She asked, and then I got the picture.
"Mike had been teaching Jeanie to smoke marijuana, and that was why she was putty in Mike's hand. I wanted to see just how far my wife would go, and I'll admit, I wished that I hadn't came in so soon-because I found out just how hung-up on other women's bodies she really was! Because I got the most sickening feeling in the world when I saw Jeanie licking in between Mike's legs. Mike rolled it up to her like she was doing her a favor. I couldn't take any more, it was a traumatic thing for a husband to witness all this. Anyway, I guess I lost my head and I charged into the room and belted Mike smack in the kisser! But do you know what was the biggest joke of all-my wife shouted at me! She said that if anybody was leaving the house, it was going to be me!"
"Did you leave?" I asked him.
"Damn right I left! If she wanted that lesbian bitch, fine with me! But we're still friends, in fact, just to show her that there was no REAL hard feelings-I take Jerry by there to see her sometimes. Jerry's my new roommate!"
Lesbianism is quickly becoming an accepted thing here in the Sunshine State. It has reached such prominence that certain national Lesbo Cults are seeking the sanction of the church. It is but another space age attraction that lures thousands of young women, and old ones as well, in search of perverted wants to the state of California.
BOOK FIVE
FOUR-LETTER FREEDOM
In the olden days of our forefathers, they often boasted, jokingly, and sometimes lamentingly, especially when looking down the barrel of an outraged father's shotgun, that a man's sexual organ has no conscience. In these modern times, the same quip can be uttered by the female! Much like our forefathers the entire country now sits in a state of stupor, as many of our good citizens' advocation of the Free Love theory. It can no longer be said that married couples would rather fight than switch, as evidenced with the growing wife swapping clubs arising from Rhode Island to the Little Old Ladies in Pasadena.
An amorous citizen has only to buy the latest copy of any hippie underground newspaper to find a sexual companion for an evening or a extended affair.
Marriage, as defined in Webster's New Collegiate Dictionary, is a mutual relation of husband and wife; wedlock; abstractly, the social institution whereby men and women are joined in a special kind of social and legal dependence, the purpose of founding and maintaining a h, ly. Divorce, defined, is a legal dissolution of the marriage relation; disunion; separation.
In the coming generation, perhaps, there will be little need of either.
Barbara Wilkerson customarily dressed for her husband, catering to his discerning taste, but tonight she stood nude in front of her bedroom full-length mirror thinking of whether or not to wear her new miniskirt. Mr. Wilkerson didn't approve of her in such short and revealing dresses, but her thoughts were not primarily of her husband. Tonight she was going to be daring no matter what her conscience dictated. Admiringly, she smoothed her hands over her breasts and smirked to herself in the mirror-too small, there wasn't enough there for a good handful; men liked to feel cushiony breasts with full erect nipples. Sorry, she whispered to herself, that I just don't have it. She thought there was enough of her everyplace else, however, to make any man's pee-wee stand on hard.
What the hell, even if she was gaining a little . too much weight around the middle and in her lower hips. Her husband liked it, although he was always mouthing off about dieting, and her getting more slender than she already was. She had seen how he took second glances at passing girls wearing tight skirts that displayed their fat, round fannies. But she didn't even wear a girdle anymore and she must admit that she was slipping a bit. She turned abruptly when her husband called from the bathroom.
"Yes dear, I'm almost ready. We won't be late, don't fret so."
She would wear the miniskirt-the hell with what he might think. After all, Doris wore them, and if she could, anybody certainly could! In fact she didn't really see what Doris' husband, Dick, saw in her. Sure Doris was a little sex pot, but her legs were too large, and her thighs bulged like crazy below her hips, and all that hair! Didn't she ever shave her legs? But men did seem to casually mention these things in her presence: "Golly Doris, you don't shave your legs do you?" All the while thinking to themselves how much more hair there must be around her cunt. But then Doris didn't exactly discourage them either! The way she walked around making those gigantic tits of her bobble and shake; it was outrageous the way she never wore any bra. You could actually see her nipples under her dresses. The way she sort of strutted to entice men-like she had the best pussy going. No, it wasn't that, it was her knowing what a gorgeous hunk of man she had to sleep with every night.
Doris' husband was nothing like her husband, Bill. Gawd, the size of Dick's penis was monsterous! And those jeans he wore all the time sure didn't leave much to the imagination. Every time she was near that man, she felt her whole body stir up, passion boiling inside her. Gawd, if only Bill had a cock that size-how beautiful her nights would be for her. No ... not Bill, he was such a dud when it came to sex. At least he had been, until lately. She had noticed that he did seem to come to life when he was around Doris. She wondered about that.
"C'mon, doll, will you get dressed and stop admiring yourself in that damn mirror. You spend more damn time lookin at yourself than anything else. We were late last week, and we don't want to be late tonight!" Her husband said, coming out of the bathroom and grabbing up his trousers.
"Ahhh, knock it off. They'll still be there when we get there."
He scowled, and pulled on his shirt, resenting his wife's implications.
"I'm not worrying about it-but I know you're about to burst your belly button to get there so you can gawk at Dick's dick!" He suddenly burst into a roar of laughter, "Hey, that's pretty funny, did you get it?"
She grunted and sat down on the bed, "Yeah, I got it, but I'd rather forget it."
"Ahhhh don't get sore-I was only teasing. It's okay if you get along so well with Dick. Only I don't like the way the guy keeps you in there so damn long. By the way ... what the hell takes you two so long?"
"He's not as old as you are ... Billy boy." She replied.
"I didn't like that one, sweetie."
"I know you don't. Dick's thoughtful, which is more than I can say for you."
Wilkerson looked at her closely.
"More thoughtful in what way?"
"Oh ... let's not start anything, shall we? You know damn well what I mean and we agreed not to discuss it. Anyway, it's not your fault if you are not the size he is." She said.
With that she fastened her garter belt and glanced at her reflection in the mirror, eyeing the circular flow of her slender buttocks.
"And you like that, don't you? You really turn on for a guy that has a big, long cock, don't you? I sorta suspected that-you were never satisfied when I made love to you ... well I'm not ashamed to admit, because it takes twelve inches of cock to satisfy you and that ocean-drop, that you have."
"Oh silly-size doesn't mean anything. You just can't cut the mustard anymore ... and Dick has the know-how, and the stamina."
Wilkerson watched his wife as she wiggled into her panties; her thighs bulged and their softness spilled over the cut of the material. His eyes lingered at the conjunction of her thighs, and noted how sexy her pudendum appeared, enlarged by the tautness of panties; she could have very well been mistaken for a boy with a small sized penis, all balled up inside ... damn! He thought to himself-that bastard Dick-was getting some pretty good stuff.
He remembered the time when he could not get enough of his wife's lovemaking. For the first time he imagined how his wife and Dick must get alone together. Poor bastard, she'd kill him. There was just no satisfying Barbara when she got started.
He remembered too, when they were first married, how she exhausted him physically. Morning, noon and night, right in the middle of the "Late show!" Hell, the harder he pumped cock to her, the more she would want, and on and on it would go. He wondered just what the hell Dick was doing to her now, to keep her so happy lately. He, knew that he was doing a good job on Dick's wife. Gawd, she was easy and she wasn't at all like Barbara. Her pussy was tight, and it was so hot. She responded with his every thrust; loving it, and helping his orgasm along. But he wondered what was Dick's secret?
"Bull, don't tell me that size doesn't mean anything," he said, stuffing the wrong end of his cigarette into his mouth, " ... that's what all women say. But just let them see a big cock and they wet in their pants. And that includes you, my darling wife! All that Dick has to do is to shake his prick in front of your face and you melt like butter, he's really got you uptight hasn't he?"
"What are you worrying about? I was a good wife to you. Only you didn't know a good thing when you had it. Why don't we just drop the whole thing. It wasn't my idea to begin with. Oh no, you couldn't stand that. You like little Doris too much. I bet you eat the lining out of her..."
"You watch your mouth! If I do, it's no more than you do for her husband! I know damn well what you do for him. Just like last time when they were over here. Did you have to hold on to his thing that way-it looked like you couldn't wait to get to the bedroom. We both know you're a cock-sucker!" He shouted in rage.
"Yeah," she screamed, and went quickly over to him, and yanked down her panties, "I bet you don't have the GUTS!" She stood directly in front of him and opened her legs with both of her hands-offering herself.
"Cut it out, Barbara. You know I don't like for you to act this way. It makes me weezie..." He muttered, and turned his head away sheepishly.
"Oh, c'mon, get off that crap. That's the one thing that pisses me off with you! ME-you can't stand to look at, but when we're with those hot-pants, little bitches, you act like you haven't had a meal in a year!"
"Who wants old crow when you can have fresh young tender meat?"
"-likewise, I assure you, buddy!" she snorted.
"Well, this sexual freedom club jazz, was supposed to solve all of our marital problems, so you said. Until you forgot and started acting like a broken-down old horny cow, when you got around all of those new young male members."
"Shut up! Let's go before the baby sitter hears you bellowing up here."
She yanked on her coat and ran out of the room.
An hour later they were ushered into the living room of the couple's home mentioned here. Dick and Doris were nude, relaxing before the fireplace, their faces beaming. Dick said sarcastically, while eyeing Bill's tell-tale bulge in front of his trouser, "Well, well, I'm glad you finally got here. I think my wife would have died if you hadn't made it."
Doris stood up, her breasts hobbling aloft, lightly, and took Bill's coat. A warm smile promised a night of more delightful bliss in store. Then she turned to her husband, "Oh shut up Dick-you louse, and take Barbara's coat!" she said.
Willard Elliott told me: "New York is my home-state and I came to California for a vacation. Several of my friends here, live in this campus town, and they are all respectable people, married men about 47, which is my age. This one Saturday night we were all sitting around having a beer, and they agreed to turn me on. 'Willard,' one says to me, 'I've got a swell idea. We know you never get out much back home-with your having a wife and kids and all, so we decided to show you a good time. Suppose we told you that we were going to take you to a place where you could screw all the women you wanted and it wouldn't cost a dime?'
"I thought my two buddies were putting me on. But I'll be damned if they were! We drove to a newsstand and bought one of those hippie underground papers. We parked and read it. Marshal! commented: "There doesn't seem to be much in here tonight. I guess we have to take him to our regular place.' From there we went to this old house that looked pretty much like a college sorority house. The area was a beehive of activity with students walking along the street, and there were bookstores, and quaint little shops. So I knew we weren't too far from the university.
Just inside the house there were girls seated on the floor of the hall. This one gal stopped us at the door and asked to see our membership cards. Then we were ushered into a long hallway that led to the main room. Inside this room, there must have been about fifty people, mostly hippy types. Most of the girls I judged to be about eighteen or so, and a few that looked even younger.
"The boys and older men wore beards like myself. A majority of the people were sitting on rugs, and pillows, around this odd shaped water-pipe, inhaling from it. I'd been around long enough to know it was marijuana inside, and the room was thick with it. We sat down and joined the circle."
I interrupted him to ask, "Did you ever smoke grass before?"
"A little, a very long time ago. But I hadn't forgotten. I knew that if I didn't, the kids would think that I was straight.
Well, in the meanwhile, I wanted to look around to see what choice of females there were. But for about the next fifteen minutes we sat there smoking this grass and listening to this weird music. The people around me, Marshall told me, were professional people and college professors. The women were primarily of the same variety-but most of the younger girls were coeds at the university.
"Directly in front of me sat this girl-she had her legs crossed under her, and her miniskirt didn't hide very much. She was a cute little thing: long hair that came down to her shoulders; it reminded me of my daughter, Cher. This girl saw me looking at her and she gave me the biggest, prettiest smile you could imagine. Just as she did, she put her index finger in her mouth and sucked it. Right away I visioned a "Lolita" and the "Baby Doll" movies.
About that time this gal uncrossed her legs and brought her knees up and rested her chin on them. Her skirt slid down around the flank of her thighs and her underside was exposed. There was no missing what I was looking for; it stared me right in the face. Looking at her spreading her legs with her opening in full sight, covered with a thin baby's growth of hair, made me forget how old I was. It was a hell of a picture; this pretty little gal with this long flowing hair, that made her look like a golden nymph. Her slender legs and thighs all curled up, while she showed me her exposed cunt-no panties-just stuff!
"Then slowly, or so it appeared to me, because I was pretty high and far-out on the grass-everybody started embracing each other. They began dancing and some women took off their shoes and skirts. The rest of the night was quite a trip-most of it psychedelic-all of the preliminaries were over and everyone started to groove with each other.
I couldn't move; it was too much of an effort. My buddies, when I looked up, were both buck-naked and holding on to a gal ... to me it looked like two dogs in the midst of summer, trying to stick this pretty gal puppy. The girl's long hair gave them an angelic quality ... the way a person thinks of a baby female maturing into a sexy woman ... and Marshall was hunched down behind her, because she was so short, and pulling the youngster's skirt up and over her ass, and her baby cheeks came pushing out in softness-she was plush against the wall with her arm raised over her head while she wiggled frantically, passionately. Her back arched, rotating against Marshall's long shaft.
"His big body wrapped over her small ass and when I saw her shake her head; as a dog would shed water ... I knew then that she was shaking off the hot flash of the initial contact of his cock entering her pint-sized pussy. He braced himself and really hunched her ass a couple of hard shots! The youngsters cried out; and in my fantasy it was the same cry when a dog is hit by a car while running across the street!
Wow, how weird it all was, everybody was naked and being beautiful to each other.
"I remember being helped up and this middle-aged woman taking off my clothes. I was naked, but it felt as if I was free. I looked down at myself, and I didn't know me. It was crazy, and before
I had been ashamed of my penis, but looking down now at the way it was sticking out--all hard-it was no longer grotesque. I reached out and took a lady's hand and said to her in a voice not my own: LADY WOULD YOU PLEASE LOOK AT MY PENIS-IS IT ALL RIGHT? IS IT SEXY?
"It was odd because she stopped and smiled. I saw her lips moving, but I heard nothing but music-only then did I realize what was happening ... the music was saying it for her; it was telling me exactly what she was saying through vibrato and tensity of sound ... the lady bent down and kissed it ... and I didn't even know her either ... and somehow I was inside a bedroom upstairs with not the foggiest idea as to how I got there. I was just standing looking at a man and an older woman, naked, kissing near a bed. I listened to them talking: 'Is your girlfriend downstairs, honey?' The woman asked the fellow, as she all too eagerly pressed her big belly against his rod. 'I came here tonight especially to give ONE of you young boys some real good..." Then she whispered in his ear-and I couldn't hear anymore. But the boy was pushed back to the bed. The woman's hefty body was then on top of him; fastening her cunt over the boy's puny thing-and the old lady-went wild! It was funny-and I laughed out loud. "No ... don't laugh at me Mister-I need it, I'm old. and I need this boy!'
"What a scene that turned out to be. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, this redhead was standing in front of me. She seemed so small and so fragile. She had pint-sized tits and small waist that curved into trim narrow hips ... she said, 'Hi, you're cute. You look exactly like my father though.' Her arms came around me and she kissed me. I was crazy out of my head with want when she began running her lips and tongue over my body. She went to the bed and stretched out, parting her legs to show me her treasure...'Do you want some? ... I don't mind.' What could I say, I knew I was years older than she, but the pot equalized that, and I found that she did enjoy my penis. Much to my surprise, I retained more stamina than I'd ever had with my wife.
"That little gal did wonders for me. Not only was she good but she made it last a long time-it seemed like hours. Around the world, and the whole bit, we didn't leave anything out. In fact, I showed how we old timers fuck a young gal-and she enjoyed it! But the whole experience was the greatest ever. I couldn't thank my two buddies enough. And I must admit, if the teenagers are turning on with this free love, and the pot smoking on the scale that the national polls report-I say the more the better. There are a lot of old folks that could do with the expanding of the mind!"
Scott Windlor had this story to relate regarding the freedom of sexual expression: "You know, for a long time I've heard all the stories about black people. You know how they are supposed to be more sexy than the white race. I've always wanted to screw one of those black women-and actually
I saw no reason why a white man shouldn't take a nigger woman to bed. So there was this black chick that worked with me. I decided to ask her out. And much to my surprise she agreed. Although she told a few of the other girb in the office and they gave me the bad eye. Nevertheless, I took her to this party my buddy was having.
"At the party she started dancing this Bugaloo thing. It was really far-out, you know? I was maybe, a little embarrassed because I knew what she was really doing. Her thin ass jerked and squirmed under her mini like nobody's business. Any red-blooded guy could see that she was hot to trot. The gal was all woman despite the fact that she was so skinny. What she lacked in fleshiness she made up in having an earthy sensuality. That night when I took her home, I asked her to come up to our place. I have a roommate, but I told her that we wouldn't be disturbing him. She was still high from all the drinking at the party, and didn't really think about what I was offering. But then too, I knew damn well she knew that when a girl goes to a man's apartment that late in the morning-he's going to try and feel her up. Actually two men, because I suspected that my roommate was going to try and horn in on this gal as soon as he saw that she was black. T don't really think I should-or if I do, I can't stay a long while. Do I have your word that you'll be nice?' She said, and I kept thinking as I took her inside my place; she didn't specify what sort of niceness! I turned on the box and mixed a couple of drinks. It was too early to get her to smoke any pot, that would be too obvious.
"About that time Roy came home, and she took to him right away. Roy's a tall blonde-headed fella, and the girls usually flip over him, and the big goon just took over and asked her to dance with him. I sat down on the couch to watch.
"She got up and stepped into his arms. Roy was nearly a foot taller than she was and her head only reached his shoulder. He put both arms around her; forcing her around to come into his embrace. 'Is this the way you guys dance?' she asked jokingly, aware that Roy had her practically in a bear hug! Then it got serious when she put her head on his shoulder, real cozy-like, and brought her hips in between his legs. I saw the miniskirt accenting her two balls of ass, and where the separation made a deep cleft. It looked as though she was straining to keep the muscles in her ass tight to prevent them from shaking-then I saw them start to quiver, as she relaxed even more and melted over Roy's dick.
"I imagined that she enjoyed screwing fast, and a man with a smaller penis, because this must have given her more freedom of movement, whereas a large penis would fill her up, and she wasn't able to slide up and down it! It was easy to read her sexual character by the way she danced.
Roy wasn't hunching her very hard-not hard enough for her liking. So she kept her pussy mound up tight on his cock to tease him. Her pelvis would roll while he froze with passion-his limbs stiff. She ground the plushness of her pussy so that it brushed on his thighs.
"Hmmmmm," she murmured, "don't you guys have any fast records?"
"I called out from the couch, 'Fast music makes you horny at this hour of the morning!' As I said this I slumped down and drew my legs apart so she could see how hard my cock was. It was clearly visible-and she looked at it and her eyes lit up. But then she blinked real fast; like she was dreaming. What she had seen made her hornier now, and my cock was too beautiful for her to stare at it. Then in a sexy, gaspy tone she whispered; barely getting the words out, 'Hon, J stay horny all the time...'
About that time Roy drew her to him and clearly showed her how he felt about it. She got the message. Then we went into a crazy sort of dialogue:
"A fine chick like you-I don't believe you."
"Well a girl has to fuck too, yuh know-" she said.
"If that's the case why do you all say no."
"I haven't yet."
"Are you horny now?"
"If I was, I wouldn't do the both of you guys." she purred.
"I should think it would be twice as good."
"I don't dig trains-"
"But I thought black women could really go."
"Who said that?"
"I mean the way you dance-yuh know."
"Jus' cause I like fast, funky music-don't mean I'm a whore...."
"I didn't say the word whore-"
"Well whatever you meant by it-the answer's no!"
"Would you give me some?"
"I didn't say that."
"Do you like to be eaten?"
"Ah, c'mon, that's old. Be serious. That's not gonna make me want to do it."
"Do you like it? Do your boyfriends eat your stuff-your..."
"Sure, I'm normal. Any girl would like it. But I don't picture you two guys as pussy eaters."
"Just for you baby-your pussy looks good enough to eat, and I don't USUALLY do it ... but I'd eat the lining out of yours."
"No, no, I can't-some other time."
"How about a little grass?"
"Okay-but smoking pot doesn't make me horny. So don't waste your stuff if that's what you have in mind."
She stopped dancing and stood there for a moment and straightened her hair. Finally, realizing where she was, and considering all that talk about screwing, and also, that she was one female with two determined, horny males. In effect, she had admitted that she had already considered all the possibilities, her conversation was a way of letting us know that if we were men enough to break down her resistance, we could have her any way we wanted. I couldn't wait to see her naked, and to see that slender body and those small tits. I was dying to see if she looked as good naked as she did with her clothes on.
The three of us blew some grass-then finally I said, 'C'mon in here for a minute-' I took her hand and led her back into my room. 'Hey wait a minute, I like it better out there...' When she was inside, I kissed her, and quickly. She gave me her tongue, sucking, twisting it over mine, and then flicking it like crazy; all in one kiss she had communicated how she wanted to be laid, a complete run-down on her sexual exercises: when a girl puts her tongue into my mouth and sucks it-that was her way of saying that most of her boyfriends gave her oral pre-love play. Then the twisting implied that she liked a man to squeeze and manipulate her titties and take big handfuls of her ass. And the frantic way she flicked her tongue against mine told me that she liked a slow, rough handling-and showed how really hard-up she was for the stuff. And when the penis was inside her, she desired a rushing climax.
"Then she started babbling, I didn't say I was going to give you any. You and your buddy must have a contest going' I kissed her some more and slid my hand down her back-knowing full well that she wanted me to continue. She grabbed my hand just as I squeezed her tight ass. I really dug the way her flesh slipped through my fingers, the way her circular softness felt moving inside the slippenness of her silk panties-it felt like quick-silver spilling around like water in a bucket. At the same time I rolled my right thigh, because I'm right handed, up against her pussy-not to the sides, but square in her center so she'd get the picture.
"I ran my tongue down the side of her neck and back into her ear. 'No, no don't do that-quit!' I raised my arm and put them down over her to give her a feeling of being helplessly captive to me. We were both high now, and she didn't mistake the message. My hand was inside her bosom, and she tried to stop it, and at the same moment, I took a grab of her ass, purposely making my middle finger explore her crack-it humbled her, and embarrassed her into giving me a choice of feeling her tits or her cunt. She would rather have me caressing her ass, because she wasn't proud of her apple-sized tits. By doing so this really exposed her true sexual character.
"For one thing, she wasn't happy to be skinny. All through her life she competed with curvaceous girls for men's attention. Which meant when she did screw a man, she gave all she had. Even to the point of oral climaxes, but the man must say he thought she had the best pussy ever! She probably thought too, that pre-love play was in every man's mind as being exciting; his male sex appeal wearing down her resistance; courting her right out of her panties. You know, playing with her titties and erotic zones. And what made her more susceptible was knowing that she was so skinny, and not having the size tits that men mostly liked. She didn't have a handful, and she was forced to cover this fact during love play by letting you feel her below. And once a man feels around in a woman's pussy, it's almost impossible to turn his back-short of rape! And the next step was invariably insertion of some-kind.
"All of which told me that because she was a pretty woman and sexy, she had been asked out by lots of men. Basically she was a nymphomaniac and any man felt sure enough of himself to grab a tit-on general principles-not knowing that it was upsetting the hell out of her. Virtually, she had no will over her wanton sex organs. Knowing all of this, I felt at liberty to stroke her pussy as I pleased ... her response was to spread her thighs and let me do my THING! For more than ten minutes I strummed and teased her cunt until she was ready to throw a fit!
"Her ass was wiggling like she was trying to fan a volcano. Then came the jerking movements; dry-fucking while standing, and I sunk a finger into her hole, then all four, and pulled up on her crotch, like holding on to the horn of a bronco's saddle. I could only smile and feel my cock strike out at her. Just watching her panting and raving, squealing like a horny pig made me think of how cool and reserved she acted around the office. She was so sophisticated, and wanted you to think she was so hip to what was happening.
"I thought of the times she had teased me with that sensual strut, making her hips roll like she wanted to fuck on the spot, and all the times she had looked at me with those sexy, implying glances; saying: I DARE YOU! She had known that I took pride in giving women sexual pleasures-and she made it clear with the flicker of any eye-that wasn't quite a wink-that the challenge between us was to see who could out fuck the other.
"It was all there while I was dry-fucking her by the bed. She knew that when I got her drawers off and stuck my cock in her, that I was going to give it to her faster than a eye can blink! The game was nearly over now, and there was no need to play verbal games. 'Don't do this to me, please-' Was all she said as I laid her down on the bed. I raised her legs and lifted the skirt off. Her hands came down to cover her pussy, still she couldn't wait for me to show her my hairy cock. 'Your panties are bright red, baby. Does that mean anything? She moaned and twisted and took her hands away, and said in a gaspy whisper, 'Hot like my pussy...'
"I glanced down at her naked body. The mound of her pussy was the size of mole-hill, and her dark hair curled out the edges of her drawers, and the red panties were moist in the seat of her crotch-I knew then, more about her sexual needs; she was a walking factory of orgasm! At work, at play, her pussy kept her bothered and wet, and juicy!
"Her titties had flat nipples resembling lumps-more than a bustline. I decided to blow her mind and spend time sucking those brown babies. J knew that she didn't let men play with them because they were embarrassingly small. They were hot and ready-and bursting like black balloons. All the while I was nudging her hole. At first contact she took off! She just permitted the head of my penis to come into her tiny pussy-and then the steel walls of that hot, sticky, fleshy pussy came down on my cock and her softness inside drenched me with tantalizing lava.
"I must have laid with her for about fifteen minutes before Roy burst in on us and demanded his turn. And was he hot to trot, because he turned her around where her ass was raising high off the bed and he hunched over from the rear. Roy almost made me feel like a sissy-the way he was going at her, and after he had tired of that position, he had her on her back sucking him off. But no matter what he did, she loved every second of it.
"She spent the night and for breakfast she gave us both a tongue-bath before frying the bacon. And watching her that morning cooking breakfast-she was cool and reserved once more. It compelled me to ask her; 'How is it you can turn on so many different moods-one minute you look sophisticated and then you're all hell and brimstone?' She cut her big sexy eyes over at me and winked, 'What fun would it be for a man if he knew what a woman's sexual freedom was?' "
There are some six hundred Sexual Freedom Clubs in the state of California. Most of these clubs are secret, and exclusive for those wishing to display their sexual freedom, such as homosexuals, lesbians, and other perverts.
There have been countless complaints from concerned parents to the proposals of sex education in the lower grades at school. Most of the protests point out that there is no need for the stark realism in the movies shown in conjunction with some of the lectures in classrooms. But adult students, those wishing to further their education in the field of sexology and the free love theory, can now enroll in some of the state's leading colleges and universities. There is no complex registration procedures or high fees. The instructors divide the classes into groups best suited as to personality types, and ages. These classes are all conducted with the expectation of helping the average person to understand himself-sexually.
BOOK SIX
OF SEX: BLACK TO WHITE
Today while our nation hangs in a dark limbo as the white majority and black minority struggle for civil rights, there is a paid increase in integrated marriages, and interracial dating. In the midst of rioting and looting in our cities, and above the cries of revolution, integration seems to progress. The female sexual revolution advocates resolving the traditional rules of separating white from blacks. White American woman are throwing off their restrictive shackles and demanded the right to be seen in public with anyone she wishes. The birth of the psychedelic Free Love theory has paved the way to opening the doors to black men who were once socially taboo!
The Golden State, then, is one state in the nation that permits the free intermingling of races wihout scorn or racial insults.
The mind expanding drugs have also been given credit for an objective seeking of what the fellow human man is all about. Many, after turning on, and expressing the will to be free thinking individuals are rebelling against the society established rules.
John Louis had an interesting case history because he applied it in terms of his having helped to reduce the racial tension that was occurring in his city, and as he explained it: "Well I'm digging how all this crap about rioting and the black brothers not being given his equal right, see? I started wondering why the white man hated us so much! The first thing that came to my mind was his jealousy of his white women. like they used to hang black men up by their balls in the south for raping white women. I thought to myself, the white woman should be made to see that all men were alike, and that there wasn't any different in sex."
"In other words, you, as a black man, thought that the best way to get through to the white man, was to make love to his women?" I asked, and John Louis looked at me, searching for a way to express himself so he could get his message across without antagonizing me.
"Well-let me tell you what happened to me first. I was laid off from work, see? I had to draw unemployment insurance, and every Friday I went down to the state employment offices to get my bread. Well, all them windows are marked alphabetically, and in Window X was this white chick who made out my check. She was a real mean lady, sometimes-I never knew v. i could be so damn bitchy. She was crabby when askin' yuh question?-like why were you late in picking up your check and all that crap. Well, me and my unemployment buddies, used to stand in line and dig this chick. We figured out that the chick was crabby because nobody was putting a good screw to her ass. You know, she was horny all the time, and you know how bitchy chicks get when it's that time of the month. This is just how this white broad acted. But she was built pretty good for her age, about thirty-nine, and didn't wear wedding rings-which meant she was probably an old maid.
"She had a hell of a body on her, she was about five-six and sorta stout with a lot of flesh everywhere-but shaped just right for her proportions. Her tits were too much, Jim, they sorta swept out and rose to mountain peaks and they were shaped like melons, full and heavy. Just looking at 'em told you that she had some big ole titties, even though that brassiere was pinching the shit out of her. She had a narrow waist that came down into round, wide, shapely hips. Her skirts always fitted her tight just around the upper thighs, so that yuh could see 'em how they swelled out and over into her big ole' juicy thighs.
"Man, the way she used to switch that ass around inside her skirts-wigglin' from side to side, made my dick jump up and down. I could just see myself in that big wide, pretty ass of hers and putting my peter into that white flesh; like a fly in butter milk! I knew she needed some lovin' bad because the sort of gave that ass twitch, right between her cheeks, every time she walked it brushed her hot, fat thighs against her pussy, and a thrill raced her. like she'd be walking fast and then it suddenly, her ass would miss a beat and them cheeks would jus' rumble in a suspended state, shaking like jelly, and then she'd take the next step slower-so as not to hit that clitoris again. It reminded me of how a female cat gets horny and almost climbs the walls-never being able to sit still in one place, and even when this white chick sat down on that stool, it was sheer misery.
"I bet she must have went off in her panties a million times a day! I wanted that pussy bad, daddy! But the best part of her was that sexy face and her blonde hair. Me and the rest of us cats used to say how if we had to have a white woman-she'd have to be pure blonde, none of that in between stuff, yuh know, black and white! Well-when it was my turn in the window, she looked up and saw me. She was familiar with me because I was always late gettin' my check. But I didn't give a crap, like most of the black cats did, although she was so bigoted that it was obvious.
"This one day she was in a lecturing mood and was giving me all that shit about black inferiority, and how perhaps, I wasn't looking with the right attitude for a dignity job! Same ole' white bullshit about feelin' guilty and wanting to put in her two cents on the racial problem, so she could sleep at night. Yuh know, the same ole 'some of my best friends are black.' Well, I was feelin' pretty game, and I say to her, 'Wait a minute, may I ask you a question? Do yuh see me as being a human being, und just like any white man?'
"Her face closed up and she stared into my eyes. There was a communication between us, because we were both from the south. There is an electrical static that flows between folks born down there. She wanted to say no, she didn't want to be asked any question ... but she dared herself, that I didn't have the nerve to make a play! 'Of course, why shouldn't I? I don't judge a man by his skin color! But a lot of you black people think so.' I looked real cold into her blue eyes and said, 'Well, I'll tell you what ... since you ain't prejudiced, and you ain't judgin' on biased terms, and you are a free, objective spirit, and nobody runs your life ... let's have dinner together. I'll treat you to a soul-food dinner! You know, help shorten the gap between black and white-understand each other!'
"That nearly floored her and then I got a shock! She put her head down and began to scribble her phone number and address on the back of my employment book. She said, T don't get off from work until 4:30, but I'll be free after seven o'clock. ... next please!' She then beckoned to the man behind me. I must have had my mouth opened, because all the black cats were looking funny when I passed them.
"That night I went over to her place and took her out. I took her to a greasy spoon and back to her place. She invited me in and we had a couple of drinks. All that night it had been sorta stiff-because we really didn't have too much to talk about. like it was a stand-off, and conversation was difficult and we were both waiting for a softer mood to challenge the sexual aspect of the relationship. I took her out two more times after that night. That third time we had just come home from a date and I had just stepped inside her place to say good night. Soon as I was inside she reached our and flung her arms around my neck and kissed me hard on the mouth. Her tongue came sailin' into my mouth and she was breathing passionately. 'You nigger-you gawdamn tease, you know that!' I didn't know what she meant so I watched her walk to the couch and throw down her coat and turn toward me with a sexy pose. Man! Her miniskirt was hitting high on those big thighs of hers like nobodies business, and I wondered how she kept from catching cold in her pussy.
"She said: 'You just got to have your damn, back ego blown up, don't you? What do you want me to do, get down on my knees and say please screw me ... MISTER BLACK MAN?' She came back toward me with her hand on her hips and fire in her blue eyes. 'Well, let's see what you've got to give me. Let's see you prove your point!'
"I wasn't so stupid that I had to be kicked in the head to know a good thing when I saw one. I kept thinking of all the good I might do for my other black brothers when they got to come to her window. After what I gave her, she would never hate another black man as long as she lived!"
Evonne Wilson was a noted buyer for a large chain of department stores. I asked what were her views on the growing tide of integration in this country. She said: "Personally, I have never been prejudice although my parents did teach me not to associate with black people. But it never really became a problem until all these civil disorders began. I was in school when they burned Watts, and I became aware of the terrible, traumatic trials that there were for minorities in this country. My roommate, Angie, was going steadv with this Negro guy who was majoring in physical education, and he was one of the stars on the campus.
"Well, you know, how we all want to do our share in helping this country live up to it's original doctrines about equality and freedom for all men. The whole bit. So I naturally started noticing Angie's boyfriend. His name was Will. There were a lot of things that I wanted to question him about regarding the black people, but it seemed that all the white students were hounding him with debates on the black and white issues.
"I also wondered about all those tales about the black man having this, supposedly marvelous sexual skill, which I thought was a bunch of bull shit. However I had to consider it, because Angie was the perfect picture of white, traditional Anglo-Saxon pride. She had been raised in the deep south, and you know how they hold to their pride. You would have thought she would have committed suicide before she'd let a nigger touch her. So evidently, Will was too much in bed. She also ran the risk of having the dean tell her wealthy parents.
"I met Will at the book store one evening on campus, just after Angie had gone for the summer to visit her folks. I invited him up to have dinner, sometime, and to just talk a bit. I made a point of teasing him about probably being lonely for Angie. I think I did put sex on his mind, because I looked down at his trousers and his penis looked enlarged. The next night he dropped by and we got into a most interesting conversation, and listened to records. About the racial problem, he seemed dedicated enough, but I didn't believe him and all that other jazz about how he only wanted equality, and not the white man's money, or his women, or that sorta shit. I guess it must have been my womanly inquisitiveness, but I involuntarily started to work on the guy.
"We were sitting on the floor and I purposely let my skirt rise over my legs. I guess I wanted to know if my sexual appeal was as effectual as Angie's. But he looked, and I saw how his eyes flashed with the sudden exposure of so much white flesh; the way all the guys gawk when they see you sit down on a bus and think you're not going to pull your skirt down. Will had that very same look, and cleared his throat sheepishly. I decided to be aggressive since we had the conversation on a fairly intellectual level and asked, 'Will, is it true what they say about black men having greater stamina in sex affairs? Such as possessing astronomical sized sex organs?' I tried to make the question as clinical as I could to discourage any rapid attempt at seducing me, or possibly misconstruing my natural curiosity for what might have sounded like an invitation to bed. He answered in a raspy voice, trying terribly hard not to show any embarrassment because I had put the ball where it belonged.
"Is it true that white women have better pussy than a black woman, and is it true that white women are nymphos-like the black cats say?"
"Well, I deserved that one and hadn't realized how sharp he really was. I had to react a little dumb because I was check mated. So I said, 'I've never heard that. But haven't you enough experience with Angie to answer your own question? Does Angie satisfy your sexual needs?'
"Then he said something that made my whole body rock and shiver with horniness, when he replied, 'Angie and I have a problem. I'm a big man, I stand six foot four, and Angie's only five one. If you can dig it-she's a small woman, and I'm..." Just as he said that he stretched his legs and strummed his private. It was hard and elongated. 'Oh really?' Was all I could reply. 'What do you think, are black men better lovers than white ones?
"You're a female, have you ever done it with a black man?' I stretched out as if I was cramped and my legs needed it. But I was actually beginning to feel a fire between my legs, it seemed as though this black man's very presence filled the room with a mood of animalistic electricity. He did have a strange hypnotic power over females. I guess it was because Negroes look so primitive like they were born in the jungle, and the jungle as the kind of place where only the most hardy arrived.
"I told him that I hadn't ever gone to bed with a black person. 'Haven't you ever thought about how good a black man might screw you? Haven't you wanted to give some pussy to one just to see if he did have an abnormal sized penis in his drawers? Don't you want to know ... now ... don't you want to try it with a good friend like myself? One who you can trust and would never tell a soul, one who wouldn't hurt you with his big dick; one who understood how hot and juicy white women's pussys gets ... because their men won't fuck them enough? Baby, I can dig how badly you want to try some of this black peter in my pants.'
"I couldn't say a word-not even a mutter, as I saw him sliding over and unzipping his pants. He was struggling to get all of it out. 'Here, you can feel this nasty thing of mine-it won't bite you, baby. You can do your thing..."
"Funny, but I was almost grateful that he wasn't being obnoxious about the situation. He put his arm around my shoulder and I'm sure that it was the first black man that ever TOUCHED me. 'Go on baby, touch it if you like.' He said, forcing my hand over that long, snake-looking thing of his. I couldn't get all of it in my hands, nor around it. Even when I stretched my fingers it looked as if it was longer than my arm. Boy! It was frightening-just to think that some women had to take that much penis, it seemed impossible. I immediately began to have second thoughts about going through with it. But he held my hand there. He seemed to know that there was a lightning bolt of sensation going through me ... making my passion swell up and causing me to wiggle my buttocks, and it felt like a hot itch pulling at my inside to free the lava inside bursting my balloon of desire.
"He pushed me down and laid on top of me. It felt as though he weighed a ton, and I was absolutely helpless, pinned so he could feel over my body. JFirst he unbuttoned my blouse and took out my breasts and it was strange the way he squeezed them as though he was testing for ripeness to see how much goodness there was in me. To see if I was really as hot as he thought.
"The bulk of his body was between my thighs forcing them wider as he rocked me with one steady roll; sending his cock thundering and plodding against my center, pushing and so determined to get inside me. He slipped my panties off from under my skirt; I guess he wasn't taking any chances that I might struggle free. His body came down again and his penis came tightly into me, and I gulped for air, with the first shot of pain horrified me, and yet it was wonderful all at the same time.
I closed my eyes and tried to relax; determined to be better than Angie ever had been to him. I wanted him to shout that I was better, to moan how good white pussy was, and to lick my body as though I was a white goddess! I wanted him to do it to me for a long time, to get his fill, because we had all the time in the world, and nobody was there but us.
"You see, I didn't ever plan to have intercourse with another black man, so what the hell? I might as well go all the way-and give him all the pussy I had. A screw that I would always remember even when I got married to the typical white salesman type, or whoever-and when I was married and had a houseful of kids, I could secretly boast that I had once made a black man get down on his knees to fuck me.
"However, I can honestly say that I underestimated Will's abilities. He was a hell of a man-black or white. He not only had the biggest penis of any man that I'd gone to bed with, but he made damn sure that he used it well. He took pride in his screwing, especially with white women, I imagine. He knew what challenges lie there in black man versus white women!"
"On the basis of one intimate affair you form a reference for all members of the race as having good intention?"
"Of course not-but it's my thing to believe in people, good or bad, black or white. I went to bed with a black man, sure ... that doesn't mean that I still do not have pride in my own blood line. I feel no disgrace by having done so. I've also gone to bed with a Mexican-American, a Chinese man, and a big Irishman fresh from Ireland! Yet I don't think any one race is superior or think any less of them as individual men. Which is to say, I can't really see the basis of your conducting a research on just the black man."
I interrupted her, "No, I didn't ask specifically to tell of an affair with a black man. I mentioned minority, and their problems with integration. It was you who offered the selection of the black lover. You singled out the story; if there is prejudice here it would seem to be on your behalf-your thing, as you say!"
Dorie Brown was Negro, and a registered nurse. Her case history is interesting because she openly confessed to being nymphomaniac. It is an old saying that nurses have a tendency to lean toward sexual perversion, and particularly favoring forms of oral stimulations. In fact the telling of her story here serves a dual purpose.
Dorie wasn't an attractive girl, but in many ways she was sexually attractive, although she was as tall as the average man she dated. She was slender and had it not been for her ample buttocks, one might be inclined to call her skinny. However, Dorie didn't think of herself as being well-liked, because of her skinniness. Which, despite her cold, haughty front, made her an easy subject for an amorous male suitor. Indeed that, along with her over zealous sexual cravings, had earned her a most favorable reputation as being a good bed partner.
I interviewed a young man that had dated Dorie quite frequently: "Well all the fellows that I knew who had laid her said that she had real tight stuff. I remember once that I hinted around to her about how sexy I thought skinny women were. Dorie didn't take the bait, nor did she discourage it. In fact without ever meeting she talked more openly about screwing. I was by her place one evening right after she'd gotten home from work. She looked out the window and saw that it was me, but came to the door in a rayon slip. I wasn't too sure that she would approve of my coming to see her-because her neighbors might resent the presence of a white man. She waited awhile before opening the door, then admitted me. She was still wearing the slip without a stitch on under it. I took the opportunity to get a good look at what all the guys were talking about.
"She had skinny legs, but pretty full thighs. Around her center, between her thighs, I could see her thick, bushy pubic hairs and her legs were hairy too. Not much happened that afternoon, but I did manage to kiss her and feel her pussy up. But some pal of hers rung the doorbell, a big burly black fella. I thought it was her boyfriend, so I left.
"I told myself that when I did get a chance to get her alone I was going to screw her to death! My chance came sooner than I expected. At a party one Friday night she hinted that her boyfriend was out of town and she was at loose ends. So after the party I followed her home. I parked my car away from her house, just in case. I went up and rung her doorbell, and in a short while she called down from the front window, 'Who is it?' I told her and asked if I could come inside. She let me in and she was standing in her nightgown. 'What are yuh doing here? It's four o'clock in the morning-are yuh crazy?' Her dark face was screwed in anger, only mild, however.
"Dorie could tell by the look on my face what I wanted. 'May I stay for awhile-I got dizzy driving, so I thought I could...' When she heard my story she offered to make coffee. I caught her and kissed her real quick. Our tongues came together and she began wiggling purposely to let me know that she was ready for anything.
She pretended to struggle a bit but she turned so as to make her ass easy to get at. I guess she figured if I got her from the front, where that pussy was, she'd give in too soon. She wanted to horse around a bit, first.
I pressed her against the wall and put my cock in the crack of her ass. Her neat little ass felt warm as milk, so soft and round, her buttocks protruding like spheres. I pulled up the gown and opened my pants. 'Wanna give me a little pussy, baby?' I asked and she twisted a bit and I shot my dick to her and she whimpered, 'Un-eh, don't do that-' I skinned my cock back to let it get hard before I rolled and fucked into her hole. She went real taut when she felt that I was knocking on the door. She squirmed back and gave me more room to get at it-and then I slipped it in her cunt.
"She went crazy and bent over. 'Don't, don't fuck me this way. I don't want no white man to fuck me! Lay me down..." I withdrew and watched her go over to the bed. I got down on top of her and rammed it in her as far as it would go! 'Ohhh, that hurts! Not so-ohhhhhh-it's killing me-' Dorie returned my pumping despite all that yardage I was giving her. Her hole was so small I had to almost inch it in and the more I inched, the more she whimpered. I knew she couldn't take all of me, and when I did give it all-I wanted to make her burst her nuts! She did! About four times then she shocked me when she suddenly said, 'Hey, do you know what you were doing when we were standing in the doorway? Remember, when you had your dick in the wrong hole-well, if you promise to be careful, you can have it that way-' With that she drew up on her hands and knees and shoved her ass hole up to me. I put it in her, and man, did she blow her stack. Since that time Dorie and I have been screwing around ever since!"
When I did interview Dorie she commented: "I think when the race mixes, it's pretty swell! like people always say things about our black men having extra large penises. Well some of them do, or maybe they're just so horny-they keep a hard on all the time. I don't know actually, but everyone of the cats that I laid with, always had a long peter. But anyway, that' not my point. My point is that the white cats that I've given some pussy to, all had big cocks too. Especially those born down in the south. Man, when you get a Charlie that's hung heavy, you've got plenty of big-time fucking to contend with. So, as far as sex is considered, the white boy ain't no more puny than the black boy! Then again, maybe when they get to jugging a black pussy-they dig it more. You know, like the old saying that opposites attracts one another!"
Another: "Personally, I think that integration is horrible. It's a disgrace to the whole Christian Church. Races weren't meant to be mixed up! This so-called racial revolution is just thought up by the black man to get the white, innocent girls to bed. Everyday, you see these big burly black niggers walking with pretty little white girls-poor things. I'm sure they, don't know what they are getting into. One of the reasons this promiscuous society exists is because we older people don't have the gutc to stand up and tell our kids where to get off the wagon!"
"Right in the very same apartment building that I live in there is this white man shacking with this black tramp woman. She looks like she can't be a day over fourteen or so, and wears that hippie smelling perfume-I can't stand it! Every single night at exactly ll o'clock before the final edition of the news comes on television, they start screwing each other. I tell you, it's horrible-they carry on like they were animals. She screams like it's OOOOOooooo so good to her and he is really doing a bang-up job! You know, that's her sly little way of telling the other neighbors that she gets her fill every night."
"I imagine that it could be nerve wracking for ladies my age-but it's not so much the sexual aspect of it, it's the damn whimpering and squealing of their bed. You can hear that damn thing all over the building."
"Then another mixed couple recently moved in. They were black and white too, only this nigger man had picked up some old bag that might have had a little money. She was just as bad as the nigger bitch-across the hall from them. I think sometimes they switched off because lately they've been visiting each other. And all I can hear is this sexy giggling going on, as if they were doing something NASTY!"
"I tell you young man, it's horrible! But you see these black men with white girls out there in the park laying on top of them and feeling their asses while they walk down the street. It's terrible, and one day I saw this sweet little blonde in this doorway giving this filthy black man a 'blow-job!' There was no doubt in my mind that the girl had been using some of that dope stuff. Gawd! It's terrible. I think they all should be put back in concentration camps or be lynched. Or tent to a separate state so they can breed into pure white flesh-let them sperm their own dirty kind! Terrible, just terrible!"
Needless to say not all of the white female populace share the above views. Especially those of the under twenty-one variety.
Betty Lou Anne was originally from Arkansas.
She ran away from home to venture to the hippie capitol. She turned on with all the things of the hippy cause: "I nearly blew my mind when I first came west! Wow! Everything was happening-everything was so fast, golly! It was a groove the way everybody was so turned-on to what was happening, everybody loved everybody. No matter what their hang-ups were, your creed, color ... it was all too beautiful."
"But what was really groovy was there was nobody to tell you what you could or couldn't do. like Mom wouldn't let me take the pill; said I was too young, and afraid that I might go out and give one of those cotton picking nigger men some ... that's what it really was. So I didn't dig the home scene-it was too square. Out here in California, the white girls have a groovy time doing it with Negroes, and Mexicans, and just anybody they chose. But back home it's not as liberal, like you were told not to let the hot-blooded black kids play round you."
"Like, I went to this integrated school. I'd watch air the black kids, especially the boys. They very seldom wore any underwear. I guess they couldn't afford to buy them. But in the summertime they used to walk around and you could see how big the boy's things were inside their pants. I used to play a game with myself! I'd put on my tightest britches, the one pair that showed off my shape. My mother used to bellow at me: 'Betty Lou, yuh ain't gonna go out this house with those tight pants on, are yuh? What will Preacher Jones think? My dear, I think you shouldn't-it shows too much of your private area. Mother doesn't think that's right.' They were awful revealing, but that's why I wore them."
"I easily put Momma off by not wearing them when she was around. I'd go down to the swamp where there were these "road-jacks" clearing out the land. They were mostly black and they were serving time in jail, nothing serious. You know like traffic tickets, and being drunk over the weekend. One day I went down there and there was nothing but niggers out there working. There wasn't a white man around, so I didn't have to worry about nobody telling Mama I had been teasing the black men Okay-so, I played around and started walking down the side of the bank, right where everybody could see me. 'Hmmmmeeeuhhh-jus' look at dat lil' girl, lil' ole white devil ... with all that ass in those pants!" I could hear them whispering, 'Ahhh shit, but I bet her stuff is hot. She wants to fuck so bad that pussy is burning her drawers off! Jus' look at her strut that stuff!' Then one of them stood up and wiped the sweat off his face and shouted at me real loud so I'd be sure to hear him: 'Ahhh shake that THING hot mama! Mama's in the playhouse, and Papa"s out digging a ditch ... c'mon blue eyed moma-and get a little of this...' They all busted-up laughing, but like they weren't laughing at all. like they could all rape the shit out of me just for being white. I had once seen a black man rape a sheep once-and I had always imagined how they liked to fuck me."
"Then I remembered what I used to hear some of the older white women tell Negroes, 'White man, white man, will I ever ever? No black man, you'll never NEVER!' And when I said that looking back over my shoulder-they all broke up in louder laughter. Then one yelled back not to go down by the creek because somebody might do something to me!"
"I was wise to the way that a black man says things; by telling me not to go, he really was telling me that if I want some black peter, to come on down by the riverbed where white men didn't usually come. The riverbed was on the black folks side of the country and once you went over there-all them blacks could do anything to you that they wanted. And that's just where I went, down by the riverbed. I just didn't believe they had enough nerve to touch a white girl. They know if a white woman told on 'em-they'd get their nuts cut out!"
"I waited by the river scared as hell, all by myself. I was near these tall old bushes where there was a cave opening. I had been there plenty of times before, when I was younger, to play with the colored kids. It was a perfect spot. Then I saw them men, there were three of them, real big, and burly. They were so black that they practically shined. 'Where yo' daddy at lil' gal?' Was the first thing they asked me, and I told them that my daddy had gone to town. 'lln, yuh want to see somethin'? ' Yuh want to see something big?' Then this man walked over to me and put his hands on my shoulders, like he wanted me to go into the cave with him. 'Awww, gawdamn man, how come you have to be the first all the time. Every time a white girl gives us some pussy-yuh always got to screw her first. Yuh know how yuh always leave 'im hurt'n and cry'n ... yuh hurt 'em too bad!" Then another one shouted, "Yeah!"
"Then all of a sudden, this man grabbed me from behind and raised my arms squeezed my titties. He pulled my dress over my head. Then this other man ran over and got down on his knees and started screwing me with his nasty finger ... first pushing it in as far as it would go-then he jerked it out. 'Hey, we better not mess with this white gal, she ain't been weaned yet. It's too little!"
"That was when I got pissed off, because I didn't want to say out loud that I was a virgin-they wouldn't want to do it to me. In case I'd have to go to the doctors, and the doctor would make me tell who did it to me! But before they ran off, this one man rubbed his thing in my pussy and shot off all over himself. Then they all wanted to get next to me. One man went to suck me all over, while the other one licked over my behind, and tried to stick his tongue in me. Well, then they did run off and I never got the chance to do it with any colored men in the south. So when I got to California, I was pretty happy to see that nobody didn't look down on you as being poor white trash-just because you had black friends."
I now began directing my studies to learn the opinion of the American white male, and what they had to say about the black woman. I too, had heard all the tales about their vim and vigorous lovemaking. I decided to begin in the levels of the everyday business man. I interviewed Clint Ashton, a local salesman for a large corporation: "Well, first you have to understand that the times are changing. The principles upon which this country was built are good ones, and I personally believe that integration is a groovy thing. Not only for the whites, but the black as well. Communication is the best thing going-if you know what I mean. And I'm sure you have seen many good looking, well-stacked colored chicks that you wanted to stick something to ... but you thought because you were white, you shouldn't be seen with her in public. That's stupid isn't it? Think of all the good pieces of ass you might have missed out on. Well, this is what I was thinking about when I decided that it was high time that I had a piece of black ass."
"I had these friends that went to State college, and I asked them to tune me on to some colored gal that they thought might want some action. They told me about a chick named Juliet. She had just come to California and was going to school part time because she had a baby son. They also told me that the chick had real hot pants, and some of the white guys on campus had got to her once or twice and really raved about her stuff. They thought that since this was my first time screwing a black one, that I should have a good, choice piece. They set it all up, and I was to pick her up at her place which was near the ghetto district. I wasn't too keen about going over there, but I wanted to find out what was happening with this chick."
"She let me in with a big pretty smile and showed me inside. I damn near flipped my wig! Wow! I had really scored. Juliet was too much. Her complexion was honey colored, and her eyes were a hazel green-that's no lie, she had green eyes. Her hair was a rich shiny black, and it was thin and she wore sexy bangs that covered her eyes. Just like bedroom eyes, that looked as if they were ready any time you were. And her mouth was large and wide, their lips were moist and full and made me think how beautiful it would h to have those lips wrapped around my cock. She turned to go into the living room. I got a shot at her all over. She was tall, almost the same height that I was.
"She had good sized titties and they stuck out like ripe melons with pointed nipples, that I could see through the material of her robe. She was healthy as hell, and had wide shapely hips, that were beautiful. And those thighs of hers were like dancers' legs fully round at the top and came down into big ole' calves. And I really dug big legs! Her thighs were so groovy that when she walked, you could hear that inner meat brushing together, and it sounded juicy in between there. Well, anyway this is how it turned out:
I introduced myself and she said for me to have a seat."
"Gee, I'm sorry that I wasn't ready-but I just finished my shower." She said and went over to the phonograph and put on a Wes Montgomery side. She turned and looked sensually at me and whispered, 'We're not in a big hurry-are we. You never did decide where you wanted to take me. And your friends didn't say. What do you have in mind for an evening's entertainment?"
"It doesn't matter. I brought a bottle of brandy along, I hope you like brandy ... and we can just sit and talk and get well acquainted with each other."
She wiggled over to the kitchen and got two glasses. On the way back her robe flew open with her long strides, and in that instant, I saw everything that I wanted to see. I got a shot of hairy pussy, and all those kinky hairs sticking out, looking like a porcupine!
We poured the drinks and talked for a long while. I was getting my head bad, from so much booze, but I was really digging her!
"Well," she said, "I'd better get ready and go dress. But you keep on talking, because I'll leave the door open so I can hear you. She got up, put her drink down and went into the bedroom. The door was left partly open, and I could see a bed with a dresser and a lamp. Juliet stood in front of the dresser and from where I sat I could see her body-so I very quietly got up and moved to the far end of the couch. There I saw all of her, and she still thought I was on the end of the couch. The robe slid off her shoulder and she admired herself in the mirror for a moment. She cupped her tits, and rotated her hips.
"What did your friends tell you about me."
"Oh ... nothing much."
"Oh c'mon now ... I bet they told you I was a witch! Didn't they?"
Then suddenly she looked up and saw me. But she didn't get excited. There was just this smile on her face-and there was no embarrassment on her face. I stood up and walked into the bedroom. I knew that it would be now or never.
"Don't you know white boys shouldn't be in black girls' bedrooms..." she asked huskily, with a deep gravelly sexy tone.
"Why not?" I asked standing just a hair away from her and looking down on those golden tipped tits, that looked like baby's nipples that you chew on.
"It ain't healthy-you could get hurt ... haven't you heard about how sexy we colored gals are? That's why you came tonight isn't it?"
"No-you've got me all wrong..."
Then without warning, and taking me completely off guard, her mood changed.
"It ain't huh?" She snapped putting both hands on her hips and throwing her head back," ... you gonna' tell me that is not why you came over here. You're standing there with your prick as hard as a rock and looking at these tits," she raised her tits in her hands and cupped them; squeezing them real hard and letting them pout out of themselves. " ... and at this fine brown body of mine, and you tell me that ain't why you came. Ah shit-that's the one thing that I don't like about you white boys ... you always gotta bull shit somebody! Your other friends ain't like that. They just come right out and ask me to give 'em some pussy!"
"No, wait, I didn't mean..."
"You didn't mean what ... ain't you gonna ask me?"
I began to sweat a little; knowing that she had some good loving for me.
"Will you give me some, Juliet?"
"All right lay down over there. And take off those damn clothes. I bet you don't even know how to fuck no real woman-have you ever had any pussy boy?"
"Sure-"
"Yeah-but you ain't been screwing nothing but those young hot pants college bitches-hell that ain't no pussy. What you need is some that will sit up and bark! Woof! Woof!"
I took off my clothes, while she stood by the dresser. Then she laughed.
"Jus' look at you-you bashful white boy? Pull yo' draw's down and let me see what you got.
I felt like a strip tease artist as I peeled my shorts down, and my cock stuck out like a flagpole.
"Hmmmupm! Jus' look at the size of that hairy mutha! I bet you ruin those white bitches you fuck 'round with."
"Do you think it's big?"
"I got eyes don't I? As many cats I've screwed, I guess I oughta' know a big one when I see one! Skin it back for me ... c'mon make moma-nanna hot!"
She came toward me rubbing the insides of her thighs, just letting her finger touch that pussy slightly.
"Do any of them white gals kiss this thing?"
I nodded, seeing her walk around and sit down on the bed. She patted the pillow and I crawled over and she straddled my leg and took me in her hands.
"Some of you white boys are so damn fine! Jus' makes a black woman cream all over herself ... you look like a young horse with this big ole' thing hanging down..."
Her mouth came over me and her tongue wrapped around it, and she sucked in her breath-her body began to move, her big soft thighs were trembling and her tits were hanging and bouncing, and my cock was damn near gagging her. But she stayed with it. Then she raised her head.
"I bet you like that don't you ... jus' look how this baby of yours is standing up like crazy-all I have to do is blow on it!"
"Don't tease me baby ... give me some loving."
She climbed on top of me and those thighs came open.
"You wanna' see momma's pussy?"
"Let me put my cock in you-"
I reached in back to her smooth ass and got a good hold and pulled her wiggling hole to me. That colored bitch went crazy and I really gave it to her. She didn't ever want to stop and at last I rammed her a couple of good ones and she quieted down. After that she jumped up and said, "All right white boy you got your nuts, now pay me twenty dollars! And don't give me no shit because I know your buddies told you how much it cost!"
I was never so surprised in all my life. But after I thought about it, I had a good laugh. Yeah, my buddies got a beautiful one on me that time!"
My next case history was with a Negro woman named Dorothy Hooks. Dorothy was employed with a insurance company in Los Angeles. She became involved in interracial dating through a white girl friend named Mike; Mike's given name was Michelle, but most friends referred to her as Mike.
Dorothy related: "For some time Mike had been pestering me to go out with her and to meet some of her white male friends. The other girls in our office often said Mike was lesbo. I couldn't see at first. But then I noticed that whenever she spoke with you, she always got real close to your face, and there wasn't a time when she wasn't putting her hand on some girl's shoulder. But Mike was a beautiful woman. She had red hair and was built rather thin, and I must say that her thinness was attractive. There was a certain sex appeal about Mike. Finally I accepted an invitation to visit her beach house over the weekend. She said that she had asked two fellows to come over too, but explained that they weren't staying as house guests, but they both lived less than two miles from her beach cottage.
"That Friday evening we left work together and picked up our bags and took off for the coastline.
In the past years I realized that I was getting terribly lonely, because I devoted most of my time to my work. I did want to have dates and to be around young men. I was twenty-five years old and had never been touched. My folks pampered me terribly when I was younger, and they wanted the best for their daughter, and I wasn't permitted to date. I went to college, found this job, and I'd settled down to it ever since. But this weekend I was going to try and break out of my shell!"
The next morning early we put on our bathing suits and ran out of Mike's cottage down to the beach. It was a beautiful out-of-the-way place and the location was away from the main highway. Mike wore a black bathing suit that contrasted well with her flaming red hair. I found my eyes wandering to the firm pout of Mike's breasts, clearly lined by the upper half of her swim suit. Her red hair was done up in a pony tail, and her delicate features had almost a boyish cast. She had full lips, and a rather sensuous mouth. I envied Mike's neatly rounded hips, and her willowy grace. You see I had a weight problem. I was a little heavy. I just didn't have the time to take better beauty care. I wasn't all that bad, it was just that I was gaining so much weight around my middle, you know? Through my thighs and buttocks. Of course I had always had fairly large breasts. In fact they were my stand-out features. And that skimpy bathing suit wasn't hiding very much of me. It was my first time in a bikini. But I was determined to weather the storm!
"I envied Mike in another way. She knew so much about men, and not only that but it was said that Mike's folks were terribly rich. She had been around the world no less than twice.
I had read a lot of books about sex, foreplay, coitus, positions assumed by male and female, and such fascinating side issues as control of the volup-tas and deferring the orgasm. I was a pretty well informed virgin, I must admit."
"Well, anyway, she and I talked most of that day, and that evening about six o'clock these two white guys showed up. My blind date's name was Howard, Mike was dating this guy Roger. I didn't have much trouble getting acquainted with Howard. He was a good looking white boy. He had a real dark tan, and was almost as dark as I was. He was huge, and had muscles that stuck out to here. I'll have to admit that I was at first awestruck by him. We sat around, talked, had lots of fun, and I was beginning to ease up a bit, until they all wanted to smoke some grass that Roger had brought along. I just figured that this was a part of the ways of the white kids, so I tried it."
"Wow! I got so relaxed and at ease that I just wanted to lie there. 'Hey!' Mike suddenly shouted, 'I dare all of you guys to go swimming with me in the nude!' 'Great' both guys said. I wasn't too sure about that. I first thought that they just wanted to see what a colored gal's body looked like. But thanks to the pot, I agreed to go in. The sun was just going down, so I figured what the heck-it would be dark soon."
"I stood up and took off my terry robe. Howard's eyes went right away to my breasts. I smiled back at him, my excitement mounting now. And thus far he had hardly touched me. I had kept the robe on most of the time. He grabbed my hands and we ran off toward the surf. Mike and Roger were out there ahead of us."
"Hey cut that out, Roger ... you be a nice boy!" I heard Mike call. At the same time Howard put his arm around my bare waist. I guess he was getting horny hearing Mike and Roger carry on like that."
"But the thing that stayed in my mind was that Howard had been nice to me, and I didn't want to let him know how inexperienced I really was at this sorta thing. Anyway at the edge of the ocean I took off my halter and dashed in before Howard could really see me fully. We played around in the water and we were down a bit from Mike and Roger. Howard kissed me out there and I let him put his arms around me. My breasts were naked and they did feel pretty good up against his hairy chest that way."
"You're not playing the game fairly," he said, you're supposed to be naked all the way down."
"I smiled as best I could when he reached down and got a firm hold on my bottoms and pulled them off. I thought I was going to die. But Howard didn't look at me, he just pulled me to him. I almost choked with excitement. I was actually naked and next to a white man with his sex bare too. I waited for the first contact of our body. He held me down at the waist and pulled me against his thighs. Then I felt it! His penis came softly, stiffly against my stomach. Gawd! But that thing was long and it felt so fat. so wide. Right away I had doubts whether or not I should do it with this guy."
"He was understanding about it, and must have sensed that I hadn't been around too many boys like him. His hands stayed at my waist as he continued kissing me, then very slowly they were behind squeezing the softness. It felt good. I like the way he seemed to enjoy feeling how soft I was. Well I had a lot there for him to play with. This part of necking T didn't, mind at all. But I was hung-up with the way his penis felt against my lower body."
He started in grinding me and putting just the slightest pressure of his stiffness into me. Even in that cold ocean water it felt hot as a poker, and I soon found myself responding to his caresses. It felt strange as hell feeling our pubic hair mesh together, there was a lot of friction there. Then his hand came up and cupped one of my breasts. I knew they were awful big and he would "nave trouble holding just one of them in one hand. But Howard managed, as he bent his body and kissed my nipples."
"Wow, that did things to me, and I began to feel weak in the knees, and he must have sensed it, because he really went to work on me then. We were dry-fucking, and I was returning his grinding without fully realizing it. Just when it was getting good to me, Mike and Roger were there calling for us to join them on the beach."
"We came out of the surf and raced to the camp-fire. I was having so much fun that I forgot about my being naked. That is until I saw Roger standing there drying himself. It's hard to explain how I felt looking at those two naked white men. My eyes just wouldn't stay away from their cocks. The way Roger kept looking down at Mike and using his towel to dry his dick. His thing looked like a fat spear as it stuck straight out. Once he saw me looking at it ... he smiled and put his fingers around the base of it and squeezed it-his penis throbbed and squirted. Then I was aware of Howard behind me, holding me in a fond embrace."
"Hey, Mike, he said, "this girl is beautiful-where have you been keeping her?" He squeezed me and that was weird, feeling his dick back there between my crack, big, and fat, and stiff like a flagpole."
"I put my bottoms back on and we just sat there and laughed and talked for a while. Then Mike and Roger went back up to the beach cottage and then Howard started in kissing me again. He played with my titties openly then. It was clear what he wanted to do to me then. But I thought that perhaps it wasn't so good to let him take me the first time we dated. After all, we had an entire week-end to get it done. Of course, I realized that in order to keep his interest built up, I had to let him do a few things to me."
"Anyway, there wasn't any light on the beach, and I didn't mind letting him play with my titties that way. He was breathing real hard, and he hadn't put his trunks back on. I looked down at that huge weapon of his, and how it was jerking, like it was crazy to get inside ly pussy. That excited me. To know that he wanted me so bad that his dick kept twitching. Then I thought about kissing it, because I had heard that white boys enjoyed having their cocks sucked all the time. And the white girls in the office talked about it all the time, as if it was no big thing! I didn't know what I'd do if he wanted me to."
"When his hands found my hips, I shifted toward him. I wiggled my titties a little bit into his chest. 'MMMMM! mmmmmm...' I said real sexy like to keep him boiling hot. His fingers squeezed my-hips and came inward. I took a deep breath ... he was going to try and finger fuck me.
"His hand curved over my pussy, as he explored, and pressed my sensitive flesh, and provocative thoughts spread throughout my mind."
"Hey, that's all right, baby ... sure is hot in there..." My ass turned toward him, wanting more of his fondling that was giving me erotic little shivers, and made me suck in my breath. I reached out and touched his hairy thighs, and I put my hand around his penis and wiggled it. It felt strong and solid, and so beautifully round. I had no way of telling just how big his dick was ... but I knew this white boy was no average stud! Then his finger stabbed me and I couldn't help but cry out. 'Ohhhh ... Howard!"
"A flash of fire came searing into my pussy, and all over my big ass, and my generous thighs. He then tried to draw me toward his dick ... I took my hands away from his thing."
"I think we had to stop for a while ... don't you Howard?" I asked. "We have two more days, and it just isn't the right time for me ... right now."
"I knew that he would think that I was referring to the monthly changes. "Tomorrow night ... okay?' I whispered real softly and he was nice about it. But just to show him that I meant what I said, I leaned over and kissed the tip of his cock."
"Later that night when Mike and I were alone we discussed the day's events. She told me that she hadn't given Roger any action either. 'But don't worry baby ... we are going to have ourselves a real ball this weekend. Why don't you take off that robe and relax a bit. How do you like smoking grass. Did it do anything for you? The kids all say that it makes your cunt as hot as fire. Did you?'
"I confessed that the marijuana did make me horny, and I confessed that I hadn't given Howard any. For some reason that made her sorta cheery. We smoked two joints and was just sitting there digging some music when Mike got up and started to dance ... trying to do the bugaloo. I found that even in my weak state of mind, I couldn't help but watch the contours of Mike's pussy. To cover up my real excitement, I stood up and danced with her. It turned into a pretty groovy thing, and
I could tell by her eyes that she was getting hot. Especially since we both didn't screw the guys-but we were still ready! Then openly, she was staring at my big titties. When we stopped dancing we sat back down on the couch."
"Hey ... why are we sitting around in these wet bathing suits for?" she asked. "Are we crazy? let's take these silly things off!" she smiled sensuously at me,' ... it won't bother you being naked will it?' "
"Mike giggled and rose slightly off the couch and spread her slender legs apart, posing so I could see a lot of her. My heart thudded; my attention focused on her round hips, and curve of her pussy and how the dark thin, long hairs stuck out from under her suit. Then she just reached over and kissed me. Our mouths joined and I felt her wet lips sending heat through me ... then her tongue came into my mouth. I hesitated, but then met the challenge! I moaned deep in my throat accepting the embrace. 'Ohhhhh, that's good baby, you're something special!' She was twisting her head like mad, and licking my face. ' ... lay back ... and I'll show you some real fun!' "
"She took off the lower half of my suit. And I sunk back on the sofa, and lifted my hips for her. Her naked body looked good to me leaning over me that way ... the way her tiny buds of tits were hanging and swinging from side to side. Her mouth came over my nipples and I thought my tits were going to burst. I reached up and touched her titties. They were like apples, and just enough for a handful."
"I'm not ready yet, baby, but I'll do you first, okay?' she said, and curled her hips as she drew my thighs open.
"Mike's mouth teased my tits for just a moment. Her hands teased the sensuous delight inside my vagina, and waves of goodness swept through me. I almost swooned. I was suddenly caught up in a voluptuous limbo, and I twisted and gasped for breath. She was stroking my pussy to build up my passion. 'Ooooohhhhh, please...' I begged. Then she put her head down and kissed me there! 'Ohhh Gawdamn ... fuck me baby ... kiss that pussy!' I shouted, and the voice didn't seem as if it was coming from me. My whole body jerked and quivered, and the sweet sensation of my very first orgasm lingered and filled my body. 'Hey ... you colored gals are great. You really did come good-didn't you? In fact you almost made me get a nut. You wanna trade positions now?" she asked.
"She stretched out on the couch, and put cushions behind her head and under her ass, and spread her thighs open. I had never seen another woman's private part ... and Mike looked as if she was a professional at this sorta thing."
"C'mon ... baby ... do it for me."
"I got on my knees beside the couch and leaned over her, and put my mouth to the point of tits. I drew one spiked nipple into my mouth, and she writhed. I felt that nipple swell with hot passion. My hand glided knowingly along Mike's body. I caressed her thighs, all along the tender, soft sides. Her hips were thrust up toward my face resting on the pillow under her ass. But for the time being I avoided the intimate contact. I ran my tongue over her thighs just to the tip of all that lovely course hair. Although Mike was thin, her inner thighs were soft and full of warmth. She was going crazy beneath me, when I crawled on top of her and positioned myself between those sun tanned thighs. 'Baby ... don't keep me waiting any longer . . .I'm ready now . . " I kissed her! When I did she bolted so high off the couch that we both fell to the floor!"
"The next day Roger and Howard came to the cottage but we didn't let them in. I guess they were pretty pissed at us, because they saw our car in "the car-port. I was hidden beside the upstairs window looking down on them when I heard Roger say, 'Gawdman that Mike ... ain't that just like her to keep that fine colored broad all to herself. She pulls the same shit every time!' and then Howard replied, 'Well ... that's the breaks. But that colored broad sure has a treat in store.' I was puzzled by what they meant until suddenly there was Mike coming up behind me, kneeling, lifting my robe and kissing my buttocks. I knew then what Howard was referring to!"
CONCLUSION
After concluding my interviews and research on the rise of immorality in the United States, it was difficult to draw any conclusions other than to say that indeed the state of things in America is way out! But even though there are many radical changes sweeping the country, it is good to remember that the United States is solving most of its problems, despite the racial unrest, and the students rioting on universities and campuses. The female rebellion doesn't seem to cause the average Joe much concern. After all, what period in our history has not the female been a thorn in the male's side? She is by nature, a curious, aggressive creature. Her will is to explore and to exploit, and the magnitude of her danger is in her will to disrupt!
Perhaps then, another reason for the sudden acceleration in our country's apparent decline in immorality is that for the longest time sex was taboo as an object of conversation. Our forefathers whispered the word sex, and avoided teaching-the truth to their offspring. Today, in the midst of the space age generation, our youth's demand to know.
My honest opinion, after conducting thousands of studies is that I feel safe in saying that the human animal is only curious about that which is forbidden to him. Invariably, too much of anything will become "old hat," like the dusty volumes of our American history.
A philosopher once said, " ... at no time in sexual history have we seen such emotional unrest, and promiscuity in our seemingly, rebellious youth. It is to such a magnanimous degree that its state is one of pending doom. Never in history have the times seemed to soar past with such break neck urgency!" This quote was from a philosopher who lived eight hundred years ago.
