In this age of sexual freedom more people are enjoying a wide variety of erotic experiences. There are many clubs formed just to cater to the sexual leaning of people who have unique tastes. Wife-swapping clubs are now commonplace and homosexuals have created their own organizations. While many of these sex clubs are advertised openly in weekly newspapers there are certain organizations that operate in secret because the services they render are very bizarre. One such club is known as the Women's Youth Exchange. The WYE is an underground sexual organization that reaches around the world and is popular because it supplies mature women with boys ranging in age from 12 to 18.
The fact that older men have erotic interests in very young girls has always been with us but few people realize that there are just as many older women who look upon young boys as sexual companions. Women, however, are not as bold or as direct as men when they seek out a youthful bed mate. Unlike older men they do not accost young boys on the street or try to pick them up in cars. For them the Women's Exchange was formed to supply them with the very young males they crave.
The WYE is a profit making organization located in Los Angeles. It occupies several rooms of a plush apartment house at an address known only to the members of the sex club. To gather the interviews and case histories for this study I made assurances not to reveal the address or the true identities of the people involved. The Women's Youth Exchange, however, is a very real place dealing with very real women and young boys.
The mature women studied in this book range in age from 32 to 61 so that there is almost a half century age difference between the youngest boy and the oldest woman in the Youth Exchange! The majority of these women are in the higher income groups, they would have to be to become a member of the unique sex club. The membership fee alone is $250. There is a sliding scale when it comes to requesting boys. The youngest and best looking ones are the most expensive. A twelve year old, for example, costs the woman $200 per week plus all expenses. This is because the very young boys are difficult to find while eighteen year old boys are quite plentiful and can move freely across country. While an eighteen year old boy can be had at the WYE for $100 per week his expenses are usually greater because they have greater demands than the younger boys.
Where do these boys come from? Quite a few are simply run aways while others have been abandoned by their parents. There are even some boys who have been sold to the Women's Youth Exchange by greedy and indifferent relatives of the children. For these reasons the WYE operate very carefully because it knows that just one slip will destroy the organization that realizes $50,000 each and every month!
So far the Women's Youth Exchange has been in operation for almost two years but it is un-likely that it will continue for long. The risks in pairing off mature women with young boys on such a wide scale are just too great. The people who run the WYE know that any day the police may raid them and cause international headlines since many of its members are part of the Jet Set, High Society and married to important men. But the WYE makes such impressive profits that the people who run the organization cannot bring themselves to disband it. They go from month to month wondering whether or not the next request for a young boy is really coming from an undercover policewoman. Still, greed is just as strong an emotion as is fear. For this reason the Women's Youth Exchange, at this writing, is still in business.
It was a mixture of greed and fear that brought me into contact with the WYE. An employee of the organization, knowing that I was interested in writing a book about the little known attraction that occurs between mature women and young boys, filled me in about the unique club and also gave me the names of some of the members ... for a price. This employee wanted to get out of the WYE before it was brought into the open but he also wanted to make a final profit for himself when he quit.
I did not believe this man at first because the idea that there was an organization dedicated to bringing mature women and very young boys together seemed impossible. But, to repeat an old cliche, truth proved stranger than fiction. Once I started to interview the women on the membership list this former employee had given me I came to realize that the Women's Youth Exchange really did exist.
Not all of the women mentioned on the list were willing to talk freely about their relationships with young boys but I did find enough memers who seemed anxious to discuss their strange affinity for very young males. In every case I have disguised their names in order to protect their identities.
The following case histories are the result of dozens of interviews recorded and taped over a period of six months. To get these interviews I had to criss-cross the country several times because the women were in just about every state in the union. After I had completed my task I found, through the Women's Youth Exchange, that the erotic attraction between mature females and very young males is just as strong and just as common as that well known attraction between older men and younger girls. Lolita can be a boy's name.
CHAPTER ONE
THE WIDOWS
All of the members who belonged to the Women's Youth Exchange fell into three catagories: those who were still married, those who had never been married and those who had been married but were not now. The formerly married could be broken down into sub-groups: the widows and the divorcees. I started by investigation into the WYE by seeking out the widows first. Here are the results of this investigation:
CASE HISTORY: Donna, age 45.
The widow lived in Los Angeles so she had the advantage of being close to the headquarters of the Women's Youth Exchange which was situated in the same city. Donna had been married to her husband for twenty-three years before he died of a heart attack. He had not been a wealthy man but he still managed to leave his widow with enough savings and other benefits to support her for the rest of her life.
The subject is a grandmother although a very youthful looking one. Her two daughters had married early and were now in different parts of the country raising their own families. At the age of forty-five Donna suddenly found herself alone in the world. She bore up under her loneliness for a full year before she turned to the Women's Youth Exchange for help. The following is from a tape recording of the widow's own voice:
"I've always liked boys and always wanted to have sons. Perhaps this is one of the reasons I took on such young boys as lovers. This sounds incestuous, I know, but the human mind is still unknown and unexplored country even in this modern age.
"After Bill, my husband, died I was at loose ends. I was just not used to living alone. As a matter-of-fact I had never lived alone. First, there was my own family. I married while I was still living at home so I went from one occupied house to another when I married Bill. Then my children came and I raised a family of my own. When the girls married and left I still had Bill. And then he died. So, for the first time in my life, I came home to an empty house.
"My daughters invited me to stay with them for awhile after my husband died but I knew enough not to intrude upon them. I was willing to visit them and my grandchildren but I would not stay with them for a prolonged period. I just had to get used to widowhood, to living alone.
"How I hated going to my empty bed. Since Bill had left me fairly well off I did not have to work so I had nothing but time. Six months after Bill's death I began to consider remarrying. There was just one hitch, of course. Almost all of the men my age were already married. The ones who were not married past the age of forty were either interested in much younger women or were not interested in women at all. Once a woman passes the age of forty her chances of meeting just a reasonably good man are very slim. It is still a man's world. They have the best of it. They can pick and choose no matter how old they are. No one even turns a head when they see and older man with a girl young enough to be his daughter.
"I started going to these 'swinging singles' parties in hopes of meeting a nice widower. I wanted to meet a man who had been married before. Frankly, I didn't trust a man who was still single past a certain age. I figured that they were either spoiled by having all kinds of women or were just plain mentally twisted. I thought of a divorced man, too, but I didn't want to be involved with a man who already had had trouble with a wife. He could bring the same trouble to me. So, a widower it was. I wasn't going to be too fussy. A man near my own age or older would be fine.
"At one of these parties I met a man of about fifty. He was short and gray but he seemed nice. He had lost his wife about the same time I had lost my husband so we had something in common. We went together for a few weeks but suddenly he lost interest just when I thought he was getting around to propose to me. He stopped calling and I wondered why. I found out soon enough when I met him at another party with a blonde on his arm. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five. At the age of fifty the widower wanted just one more fling at youth and he wasn't interested in women his age.
"I couldn't see why I, too, couldn't find a young man. I wanted a final fling at youth myself. There were young men, I knew, who made a career out of being nice to older women but I didn't mind paying for my fun. Men pay for girls, don't they?
"I met Karl at a resort. He was in his late twenties and very good looking. There were a lot of young girls at the resort who made eyes at him but he ignored them all. His interests seem to be directed to women old enough to be his mother I realized just what his intentions were. He was a gigolo or, to be more exact, a male prostitute.
"When Karl smiled at me I smiled back and started a conversation. I let him know that I was willing to pay for him and we went to his room. Up until that time the only man in my life had been my husband. I had gone into my marriage as a virgin and had not cheated once. Now, at the advanced age of forty-five I was to have my second man.
"Karl was an expert but detatched lover. He had a. wonderful body and virile sexual parts but he moved like a robot on me. This was just a job to him. He had no interest in me outside of getting paid for services rended and I felt this keenly. After I paid him I was depressed. Sex alone could not satisfy my longings. I needed involvement with another human being, someone I could really love.
"A friend of mine, another widow, told me about the Women's Youth Exchange. When she first brought up the subject I thought that she was kidding. Then she told me that the ages of the youth I could buy ranged between twelve and eighteen! She, herself, favored boys of sixteen and seventeen.
"But that's disgusting!" I told her. "How could you make love to a child that young?"
"She winked at me. 'I felt the same way, Donna,' she said. 'But young boys are ready for sex long before you think they are. They really like it. They really enjoy older women. Just try one of them once. It is pretty expensive but I've found that the Youth Exchange is woth every dollar in the happiness I've gotten from it."
"She gave me an address and phone number and I went back to my lonely apartment wondering what the world was coming to. I mean, after all, boys of twelve being lovers to women in their forties and fifties! I resisted calling the number for about a week. Then, after I had taken a couple of drinks, I called. A man on the other end answered and I told him who had given me the phone number. He seemed to sense that I was nervous and immediately asked if he could come over to explain things better. I agreed. When I put the phone down I had the idea that this man was actually going to be the gigolo and not some young boy.
"When he arrived he turned out to be a good looking young man of about thirty. I was willing enough to pay for stud service from him but he went into his sales pitch about the young boys. He had a thick photo album with him filled with pictures of the youngsters in the Women's Youth Exchange. They were, as my friend had told me, between the ages of twelve and eighteen. When the man asked me to pick out one I pointed my finger towards a picture of a handsome boy with light, wavy hair.
"'Yes, that's Ernie,' the man told me. 'He is one of our favorites. He's fourteen years old and very affectionate."
"'Fourteen?' I gasped.
"Yes, and only working with us for the past couple of months so he is still very fresh. Since you live right here in L.A. you have the advantage of getting first pick. You don't have to pay much for the boy's travel expenses, either. Cab fare will be enough. Some of the women in the club live clear across the country so you can imagine how much extra they have to pay. But, money is secondary. What is important that women now have the opportunity to enjoy very young boys. I'd advise you to pick Ernie right now as some other woman will have taken him by the time the week is out."
"That last statement did it. Even though I was just looking at a picture of a boy I had never met I wanted to protect him against the advances of another woman. I agreed to take the young boy.
"Although my friend had told me just how expensive a proposition this would be I still shocked to find that I would not see this boy until I had paid $250 for membership dues and then another $15 for Ernie's first week with me in advance. The Women's Youth Exchange never allowed a boy out for less than a week of love. I could see that the WYE was meant for wealthy women but I could not resist the idea that I could have a fourteen year old boy in my arms. I always wanted to hold a young boy in my arms all my life.
"Once I paid the money the club acted quickly. The next morning there was a knock at the door. When I opened it I found a handsome young boy standing there. He had glowing pink cheeks, right blue eyes and wavy light hair. 'My name is Ernie,' he smiled. 'The Women's Youth Exchange sent me over."
"I still couldn't believe that this child was supposed to be my lover for the next week. I began to believe it more when he told me that the cab was waiting outside and that I had to pay the driver. After I had paid the cabbie I made the boy some breakfast. He looked so very young and so very innocent! I felt evil just being in the same room with him. 'Where are your parents?' I asked him.
"Ernie shrugged and sighed. 'All the women ask me that,' he answered. 'I just don't live at home anymore. I ran away."
"'They must be worried. Do you want me to call them for you?'
"Again the boy sighed and shrugged. 'I really wish you wouldn't,' he said. 'If I wanted to go home I'd go. Right now I want to stay here."
"The boy resisted all my attempts to sound him out on his private life and I had the idea that the other women he had come in contact with had pressed him in the same manner. When I asked him just what he made out of a week's stay with me he told me that the WYE doesn't allow the boys to give out that information. I had the idea that the WYE was cheating the child. How much can a boy of fourteen expect?
"After breakfast the boy looked around the apartment and seemed disappointed. With child-like frankness he told me that he had been in much larger and grander places. I asked him just how many other women he had had and he informed me that the WYE doesn't allow the boys to discuss that subject, either.
"Ernie walked into my bedroom and wondered what drawer was his. I had not emptied out the drawer for him so I picked one and emptied my own clothes out of it. The boy calmly filled it with his own clothing and he also put his other suit in the closet. He was quickly making himself at home. As I watched him I still could not believe that I was actually going to have sex relations with such a very young boy.
"Once he got squared away Ernie bounced on the bed looking very childish. 'Well,' he said, 'I'm ready if you are."
"I couldn't move. I couldn't breath. The fourteen year old boy was offering me his flesh! I didn't know what to do so I sat next to him. 'You are very handsome,' I said. 'I liked your picture right away."
"He seemed used to these compliments and shrugged in that cute way of his. 'The Youth Exchange says we have a week together,' he told me. 'We can do anything you want."
"'What do you do?' I asked thinking he would tell me about wanting to go to ball games and such. His answer shocked me. He calmly informed me that he not only fornicated but also performed cunnilingus upon females. He also performed sodomy and allowed women to fellate him. Only, these were not the terms he used. The terms he used were of the four-letter variety. Without batting an eyelash this handsome, pink-cheeked boy told me that he performed oral and anal sex acts as well the normal kind.
"I felt my blood rise. This was more than I had expected. In the early part of my marriage I had indulged in these so-called abnormal sex acts with my husband but we gave them up as we grew older. Now this beautiful child was offering to bring back my impassioned youth. I slipped my shoes off. When Ernie saw this he could see that I was getting ready for sex. He took off his own shoes and socks. I watched him undress. Even at this stage I could not bring myself to realize that I was about to have sex with a young boy. He took off his shirt and exposed his smooth, hairless chest. My husband and that gigolo at the resort both had been hairy so this clear skin thrilled me. Ernie took off his pants and jockey shorts. The only hair on his body was a small patch just over his sex organ. He was fully aroused and he seemed to throb with passion. Ernie was not as well-endowed as a grown man, of course, but his sexual parts excited me. How very young and sweet he was! I could have eaten him alive on the spot.
"'Are you going to take off your clothes?' he asked.
"Having a young boy take his clothes off in front of me was one thing but me taking off my clothes in front of him was something else. I was sure that he had had sexual experiences before but he still seemed to be just a child. And yet it was his very sense of performing something exceptionally sinful that thrilled me. I took off my clothes as this young boy gazed at me with wide, blue eyes. I knew he was getting excited. I could feel it. With that young man at the resort I could feel only coldness and detatchment but this glowing child was different. He was still young enough not to have become jaded by sex. He was still fresh and, in a way, innocent.
"Ernie looked me up and down when I stood in front of him naked. My breasts were small but shapely and still firm. Through diet I had kept my figure so that I had not gained an ounce since I was a young bride. It was obvious Ernie liked my nakedness because he clamped his young hands over my breasts and sighed. 'Very pretty,' he said. Then he leaned close to me and took one of my nipples in his mouth.
"I sat down on the edge of the bed with the handsome naked boy in my lap. He pressed his young profile into my breast and I felt his teeth and tongue work on me hard. Ernie wasn't just performing a mechanical act. He really wanted my body.
"And I wanted his body. I stroked my hand along his smooth thighs and clutched at his aroused and throbbing maleness. His mention that he allowed women to fellate him made me want to take him orally. It had been so long since I had done anything like that. Ernie pressed down on me and I lowered my body against the bed. He took his mouth away from my nipple and slipped his young, naked body on top of mine. He was breathing hard, enjoying the erotic experience as much as I was. The fourteen year old showed a bit of boyish clumsiness as he took his lust-hard flesh in his hand and sought my most female part. Then he found it. He inched his vital young manhood into me and I felt my whole being become electric with desire. Ernie's manhood wasn't all that great but his extreme youth and beauty made up the difference. The boy rammed his body into me with hard, direct strokes. I ran my hands down along his moving back until I grasped his ripe, young buttocks. He was hairless in this area, too. His buttocks felt smooth and feminine.
"As the boy moved against me rapidly I clutched at his ripe rear. He seemed so small. My husband and that gigolo had both been big men. Under my hands this child was completely in my power, or so it seemed. Ernie grunted as he thrust wildly and I could feel him reaching towards his peak of passion. Then it came with a hot, driving flood. He rested on my body and his heart beat hard against my breast.
"We kissed. He placed his tender rose-bud lips upon mine and I embraced him as his passion spewed from his flesh. His lips began to open and I allowed mine to do so, too. Ernie slipped his darting tongue into my oral cavity and we French-kissed. The boy rubbed his body over mine and then lowered his lips to my ear. He asked me if I wanted cunnilingus performed upon me. Again he used the cruder term. I told him that I would.
"I watched as the fourteen year old boy lowered his wavy hair down along my body. It was hard for me to believe that such a child could be so sexually sophisticated. He placed his hands upon my hips and then kissed my sexual opening. He started slowly, licking my flesh, darting his tongue inside my body. My being trembled under his caresses. How delightfully young the boy was! And how he was exciting me!
"Ernie began to act bolder and he chewed at my flesh. I reached down and played with his hair as he engaged in the oral sex act. He worked his mouth artfully and I wondered at how he had learned this technique so early in life. As I recalled my husband had not managed to be this passionate when he had performed this same sex act. Ernie kept burying his sweet young face into my flesh and I brought my knees up in sheer excitement. I caught his pink cheeks between my thighs. The boy slipped his hands behind my knees and pushed my legs towards me as far as they could go. I had never been placed in such a position before. At first I thought it awkward but I began to enjoy being so obscenely twisted by the beautiful young boy.
"Ernie ran his tongue along my sexual opening and down to my anus. A shock of sheer sexual arousement ran through me. No one had ever touched me here with his tongue. The boy told me to roll over on my stomach and I did so, amused by this commanding youngster. He slipped over my body again and I felt his stiffened flesh probe between my butt halves. He was going to perform sodomy upon me.
"The young boy's maleness was not fully grown but it was still grown enough to hurt. I had recalled how my husband had always used a lubricant but the boy did not. But I was so hungry for the touch of a truely passionate male that I did not mind him thrusting deeply into my body once again.
"Ernie moved slowly, easily, sure of himself. With every stroke of his flesh I neared a climax of my own passions. With that young, strong gigolo I had felt nothing. With my husband, in the last decade of our marriage, I had felt little more. But, with this handsome young boy, my long lost desires were being kindled into flaming life once again. As he spewed out into my body my flesh trembled with sexual release. 'Ernie!' I cried out. 'Oh, my darling boy!'
"The child slipped off of me once he had spent himself but I was too aroused now to let him alone. I took his softening flesh orally and madly engaged in fellatio. Ernie groaned quietly with lust as I brought desire back into his young flesh for still another time. Once again his vital boy's body responded and he spurted with passion.
"Even after the exhausted boy could give no more I continued to lick his smooth, hairless body. I just could not get enough of him. His body was like a drug to me. I licked his stomach, his chest, his neck. I rolled him over and licked his back and buttocks. For the first time in my life I performed an act of analingus by licking the anus of this fourteen year old boy. When desire finally began to leave me I snuggled next to Ernie and we both rested in each other's arms for the next hour or so without saying a word, just grasping each other's body with our hands. It was lovely."
Donna, aged forty-five and Ernie, aged fourteen, shared the love nest for a week performing every kind of sex act. They went out now and then to see a movie or to have dinner but most of the time they spent indoors, completely naked. Donna felt like a young girl again and forgot that she was three decadse older than her lover.
Ernie, playing the flirt, managed to get the older woman to buy him a new suit and a couple of pairs of shoes. Like a young girl milking an older man the boy knew just how to use her desire for his body. By the time the week was up Donna realized just how much money she had spent for this passion. Yet she did not complain. As a member of the Women's Youth Exchange she could have Ernie back again as well as other boys.
After Ernie, Donna took an eighteen year old as a lover but she did not care for him. He was always trying to get her to give him gifts of watches, diamond stick pins and other items that she could not afford. At the age of eighteen the boy prostitutes began to lose their engaging youthfullness and became cool, hard and demanding. These were things that Donna did not want to her males. She favored boys of fourteen and younger. She had a twelve year old boy once but her real love was always for handsome young Ernie. Other women also looked at him in this same way and the WYE, always sensitive to which boy was the most popular, quickly raised his rate so that it soon cost Donna $20 per week to have him. Yet the forty-five year old woman did not mind. With this fourteen year old boy she had rediscovered her own girlhood. This was a feeling shared by every other woman belonging to the sex club and it was the main reason it became so popular amongst mature females. Not only was the Women's Youth Exchange selling them male youth ... it was selling them their own lost youth.
CASE HISTORY: Sharon, age 52.
As Donna leaned towards the younger males in the WYE, Sharon craved the older types. Sharon could also afford to supply the demands of her young boy prostitutes since her husband had left her with an estate valued at close to a half million dollars. She was more typical of the mature females who were members of the Women's Youth Exchange.
Sharon lives in a rambling ten room house in a fashionable section of a mid-Western city. At the age of fifty-two Sharon is in no mood to settle down and be the society matron although most of her activities are in that direction. Her husband, a well-to-do stock broker, was fifteen years older than Sharon and she cheerfully admits that she had married the man in the first place for his money. When I interviewed her she kept drinking out of a martini pitcher yet never seemed to get drunk. For politeness sake I accepted two drinks and nursed them carefully so that she would not constantly refill my glass.
The wealthy widow was short, a bit on the dumpy side but her flaming red hair indicated that she still had young ideas. Sharon chainsmoked as she drank and talked in a language peppered by words usually heard in an army camp. I have edited out the rougher phrases.
"Damn, my husband wasn't much in bed! He was past forty when I married him but that's hardly over the hump for a man. Me, I was married twice before and knew loving when I got it. My husband just didn't have it to give. Once a week was average. And he didn't do any of the fancy stuff I go for like (oral love-making) But, I married the old bastard for his loot so I can't bitch.
"Would you believe that I didn't (screw) around when he was still alive? I didn't. I just grinned and bore it until he died so that I could collect. I didn't want him to hit me with no adultery rap. Now that the old fart is planted I have a right to (screw) around.
"I waited a couple of months after he died before I quit mourning and looked around for some nice, healthy, young, juicy studs with (pissers) a foot and a half long. I had heard about the Women's Youth Exchange through a friend of mine, another widow who used it so I dropped them a line."
(The Women's Youth Exchange is strictly a word-of-mouth sex club where there is no advertising outside of one woman referring it to another. The WYE does not accept a new member without being okayed by one who has already been accepted. In this way the WYE maintains a tight security.)
"The Women's Youth Exchange wrote back sending me a few pages with pictures of young boys on. I was to checkoff the ones I liked and remail it to them. I was really rocked when I saw that some of the kids were only twelve and thirteen! Now, I don't dig kids that young. Me, I go for the big, healthy types. I picked out a couple of eighteen years olds and a seventeen year old. Once the WYE got my letter they called and told me that they had a boy for me but I would have to send enough money for his plane fare ... first class, no less!
"So, I send in the dough and the kid comes. He's six foot tall with shoulders out to here and a nice, rugged face. His name is Paul and only seventeen but I can see right away that he's been around women before.
"We drive from the airport to my home and I can't wait to get my hands on him. He tells me that he wants to shower first and I told him I would wash his back. We go into the bathroom and he strips off his clothes. He doesn't have (an erection) but his (penis) looks to be seven or eight inches as it is. He has muscles on him that would make Mr. America blush and I run my hands all over him once we get under the shower. I grab his (penis) and (masturbate) him until he get's (an erection).
"Wow! This boy is built! He is all three of my husbands rolled into one big, juicy package! Paul gets his hands on me and rubs my breasts and buttocks. He slips one of his fingers into my (vagina) and moves it. By this time I can't even wait to get out of the shower. I want him right then and there.
"I jump up on him and grab his shoulders. I wrap my legs around his waist and tell him to give it to me. The boy presses my back against the wall of the shower stall and starts to work his (penis) into me. After all my years with my low-voltage husband Paul is like a young, bucking stallion. I knew that he was well endowed but he still shocks me by what he has. That boy just didn't seem to end! He kept coming in at me and I wrap my legs and arms around him tight just hanging on. Once he goes all the way he shuts off the shower and walks into the bedroom with me attached to him like a bitch dog in heat. And, that's just what I was.
"When we pass a mirror in the bedroom I catch our reflection. There we are, two stark naked people, wet and shiny and locked in that beautiful sex position. While still attached Paul goes down on the bed with me and really starts to go to town!
"I feel like he's trying to push right through me and out my back be's that powerful. A whole series of climaxes shakes my body and I'm half crazy with sex. Paul holds back his climax. He knows not to peak-out too fast. He's only seventeen but he sure knew about women.
"The big boy works up a nice, hard, swift stroke that he keeps increasing a bit each time. His flesh is as hard as an iron rod but very warm. I had forgotten what a good (lay) was like with my husband but Paul was bringing it all back to me. He gets me so hot that I start to claw his broad back. He rams me faster and then lets loose.
"When Paul has a climax it racks my entire body. He kept pouring out into me and I push my torso up and down against his to get all of him. I wrap my legs around his and rub my hands all over his back while he releases. It seems like an hour later before he finally drains out all his passion.
"The bed is soaking wet because we had not dried ourselves and the soapy film on our bodies is sticky. We go back to the shower and clean ourselves off with cold water. Then we start to dry one another. I get down on my knees and dry Paul's legs and sex parts. The big boy is limp again but even in that conditon he packs enough to satisfy any woman. I lick his flesh and then (fellate) him. Slowly he starts to grow in passion again and I hang onto him. When he gets a full (hard) I keep working my mouth until he gets loose again.
"Now this really brought me back to the days and nights when I was young. I had done this to my first two husbands but my last one was too much of a stiff to go for it. The old fart thought it was disgusting and something only whores did. Well, I guess I'm just a whore because I like to do men this way. I kept (fellating) the seventeen year old boy even after he had his climax. I kept on until he became limp again. When I stood up he told me, 'Lady, you sure as hell give a damn good (act of fellatio)."
"T hope you do, too,' I told him.
"He grabbed my (vagina). 'Lady,' he answers, 'you name it and I do it. We boys at the Women's Youth Exchange stop at nothing."
"We go back to the bedroom and this boy is true to his word. His tongue seems as long as his (penis) and he must have cannibal blood by the way he chews me alive. Here I was fifty-two years old and here was this big, handsome seventeen year old stud going to work on me. He's so big and rugged that I don't think of him as a kid. There are seventeen year olds and seventeen year olds. I have a nephew who is seventeen but he is a skinny little twerp with a pale face and glasses. Compared to Paul he's a little girl. Well, I had wanted a bull of a boy and I sure as hell got me one in Paul.
"Of course he isn't perfect. He's great in bed but something else again once he's out of it. He keeps leaning on me for money to buy clothes and stuff. Paul even wants a new sportscar. When I had first sent for Paul and was told that I could have him for only $125 per week I had figured that this was only the basic fee. Then came the airplane fare. A round trip from Los Angeles to here cost an extra $125. That, added to my $250 membership fee came to five hundred bucks before I even got a chance to see this great stud.
"Oh, I can afford it all right and I guess Paul could see that too. He's a wonderful stud but there is a limit on what a woman can pay for in a stud fee. I tell Paul that he can't expect me to come up with an extra three grand to buy him a shiny car when I just met him. I told him I'd think about getting that generous after I knew him awhile. And do you know that this punk starts to pout! He tells me that the WYE only gives the boys a fraction of the stud fee and that they have to milk the women for 'fringe benefits.' I tell Paul to unionize the boys and get a bigger cut of the stud fee.
"Well, he keeps talking about money and it gets under my skin. I know that I have to pay him but he keeps reminding me of it. Although I get mad at him he makes up for it once we hit the sack. Damn, that boy knows how.
"I keep him on for another week but I finally have to let him go when he bugs me too much about that car. I complain to the WYE about how money-hungry their boys are and to send me a nice, satisfied stud the next time. They send me a couple of pages with pictures of boys of seventeen and eighteen. They tell me that this is a new crop, high school graduates wandering around the country before they get drafted or go to college. I pick the lowest priced one figuring that he can't be too demanding.
"Chuck is his name and he's eighteen. He's not good looking or big and muscular but he does pack that meat I love. I can tell he isn't very bright but the trouble with Paul was that he was too bright.
"Chuck tells me that he ran away from home two years ago and has been bumming around the country ever since. He tried to join the Army and Navy but they turned him down because he couldn't pass the tests. He came into contact with the Women's Youth Exchange only a couple of weeks ago and this was his very first assignment.
"'Are you a virgin?' I asked him.
"'No,' he told me. 'I made it with my sisters back on the farm. That's why I had to run away."
"Well, I can see where I got me a prize in Chuck. If he didn't work out in bed I was going to send him back to L.A. The Women's Youth Exchange did not refund any part of the weekly fee which was paid in advance but I was willing to take that loss.
"They say you can't judge a book by its cover and that was true in Chuck's case. When he took off his clothes he was standing up like a flagpole and just as big. He is every bit as well endowed as Paul and even a little bit more! I could see why he had to leave the farm. He proably killed his sisters with that weapon!
"The boy can't wait for me to take off my clothes and starts to pull them off for me. The kid is very near to rape. I have to tell him to take it easy and that he'll have all he wants soon enough. The eighteen year old boy scares me some but I enjoy it, too. At least I know that he is going for me in a big way and not just putting on an act.
"When I'm naked Chuck all but drools over my body. He all but jumps on me and rams himself like he had just drunk a gallon of Spanish Fly. He grunts and sweats and is all animal but I like it. Chuck isn't a very artistic lover like Paul because he doesn't even try to hold back. Once he feels like letting loose ... he lets loose. At the age of eighteen Chuck is at the very height of his sexual power so I have prime cut of meat in him. All he needed was to have his rough edges trimmed off and he would really be the best stud at the WYE. I decided to keep him on and train him in the ways of love. Paul had known everything and didn't need a teacher.
"I was glad when Chuck didn't prove greedy. The only thing he was greedy for was my body. That boy just wanted to stay in the sack and (screw) from dawn to dusk. When he exhausted himself he switched to his mouth. Sometimes he's a bit too rough. He'd put hickey marks all over my can and then lick them. This boy liked sex as much as I did. I'd put hickey marks on him, too, and he'd always want me to hurt him with my teeth.
"I got a charge out of teaching the boy to become smoother in his love-making. He was an apt pupil. He was interested in everything and anything when it came to sex. He told me that the WYE was only putting him on trial with me and that he'd have to make me happy if he was to stay on. I told Chuck I was going to give him a good report. Not only was he good in bed he was also a nice and quiet young man. The only complaint I had against Chuck was that I had to keep after him to bathe and shave. He was strictly rough stuff and some women liked their studs rough. I was one but there are limits even with roughness.
"I kept Chuck with me five weeks. I would have kept him on but he began to bore me. Sure, I liked sex but I liked to hold conversations with men, too. Chuck just wasn't the conversational type. The only thing he could talk about, outside of sex, was food. The boy was a big eater like all boys his age but he ate enough for three. I always fed him body-building stuff like meat and greens to keep him well-honed, if you know what I mean. He was like a little boy with his demands for candy and ice cream. At least he didn't drink. I can't stand a drunken lover. They get awfully sloppy. Me, I can take the stuff but the booze takes away a man's sexual strength.
"Chuck cost me five hundred bucks in stud fees aside from the extras like plane fare, food and such. Never once did Chuck ask me for an extra dollar in all the time he was with me. But, I'm sure he'll 'wise up' soon enough. Right now he's probably using all my good training on some other old broad. One of these days I'll send for him again just to see how much he's improved."
I asked Sharon if she had any pictures that the Women's Youth Exchange had sent her. She got to her feet uneasily and stumbled over to a desk drawer with her bracelets clanging. The red haired widow handed me an envelope. "The WYE just sent me this," she said. "I hadn't asked for a new list but they know that I'm a good client. Hell, I've already invested a couple of grand in the company."
There were two pages filled with pictures of boys in their late teens. They were all bust shots showing only the head and shoulders of the youngsters. I assumed that the WYE did not want to risk crossing the postal authorities by sending nude pictures via the mails.
Most of the boys were really just average looking although there were a few exceptionally handsome ones. Next to each picture there were the boy's vital statistics listing age, coloring, weight and height. At the end of each list was the price. On this list the weekly stud fees ran between $100 to $150. I was surprised to find that the boys represented all racial groups in the country. Sharon tapped the picture of a seventeen year old colored boy. "I'm going to send for this one next," she announced. "I've never had me a black stud. All my life I've heard that they are built big and strong where it counts. Now I have the chance to find out."
Sharon had finished her pitcher of martinis and started to make another batch. I felt that she had given me all the information I needed and wanted to leave but I lingered just to have one more drink. She leaned into me and patted my back. "You know," she said slurring her words, "I could have gone for you before, but now since I've joined the Women's Youth Exchange, all I want are real young kids of seventeen and eighteen. Youth is like a drug to me. Now that I'm hooked I just can't kick the habit. It'll cost me a lot but I don't care. At my age youth in all I crave."
CHAPTER TWO
THE SPINSTERS
Women who have never been married before represent a sizeable percentage of the membership of the Women's Youth Exchange. Some of these women were past sixty and I was interested in interviewing one of these older females.
CASE HISTORY: Loretta, age 61.
The aged spinster lived in a brownstone in the better part of New York City. Loretta not only lived in this house, she owned it. The charming, gray-haired woman worked hard all her life in real estate and was now semi-retired, selling a property every now and then when the mood struck her. She did not need the money for she had all she required. Since Loretta had never been married she had no husband, children or grandchildren to leave her estate to so she decided to spend it on herself. One way that she was doing it was sending for young boys via the WYE.
Loretta was hesitant at first when I introduced myself and informed her what my intention was. But she agreed to the interview soon was speaking most frankly:
"All my life it was work, work, and more work. When I was a girl I was shy around boys, life was a lot stricter then. The sex impulse was something no decent girl ever admitted that she had. In my teens I developed some awful crushes on boys my age but I was too inhibited to accept an invitation for a walk in the park.
"In my day when a boy asked a girl to walk in the park with him it usually meant that he wanted to kiss her in some secluded spot. I wanted to be kissed ... and more but my strict upbringing prevented me from giving into this impulse. My parents were very old-fashioned even for those days. I was their only child and I had the feeling that I was the result of their one and only sexual experience. Both had tried it once and had found it mutually distasteful. Ever since I could remember I thought that sex was something I had to avoid and be afraid of. This thought was so ingrained in me that I never married. A pity for I now know that I would have made a man a good wife. It was only very recently that I found out I could be very sexual. Yes, I waited until I was past sixty before I gave up my virginity. Isn't that a shame? Think of all the pleasure I had missed? Instead of making love I had turned my needs into other channels and made money. Oh, I'm not knocking money but what good is it if you can't enjoy it?
"Elderly men, widowers mainly, consider me a good catch. Not only have I kept my figure and looks I'm loaded besides. I could easily have my pick of men my age but I don't want them. What I want is all that wonderful young sex I had avoided as a girl. I found out that there was a club that catered to women like me and I sent in my name. I was given a choice of boys ranging in age from twelve to eighteen. Twelve seemed much too young and boys of eighteen seemed too muscular to me. Since I was still a virgin I didn't want to be hurt with an over-sized penis. Fifteen seemed just about right. I recalled how attracted I had been to boys that age when I was a girl.
"A nice-looking boy named Johnny came within the next few days. He had soft brown eyes and dark, curly hair. Even though I was close to a half century his senior I felt a very strong erotic attraction towards the boy. When I talked to Johnny I found that, despite his youth, his sexual experiences were many and varied. He was also a lot less shy than I was. After I had told him that I had never been loved sexually his brown eyes snapped open. 'You mean you've never been laid?' he gasped.
"His lack of inhibitions stunned me at first but I soon got used to it. In fact, I picked up his very frank way of talking within a couple of hours. Just saying all those words that I had been forbidden even to think about thrilled me. 'Johnny,' I asked him once I got him to this apartment, 'how many women have you laid?'
"'I'm not supposed to say but I've banged nine women since I've started working,' he answered.
"I blushed furiously while the fifteen year old boy took it all calmly. 'Don't you find me too old for you?' I wanted to know.
"Johnny grabbed my crotch area. 'All women are the same age here,' he told me.
"At the age of sixty-one, for the very first time in my life, a male had touched my sexual area. It was as if he had pressed a button to my long-buried impulses. I returned the gesture and cupped my hand over his crotch. I could feel the size and shape of his penis. It was soft and limp but it was just beginning to erect. I begged the young boy to pull his sex organ out so I could see it swell and grow.
"Johnny unzipped his fly. I watched his wonderful piece of flesh engorge and stiffen until it uplifted, throbbing with life. I knelt down and kissed it. Johnny started to remove his jacket and shirt. His body was on the slender side but lean and healthy. I wanted to eat him alive he looked that good to me. Instead I ran the tip of my tongue along the length of his sex and kissed his bare legs.
"I stood up and took off my dress. The fifteen year old boy looked on rather impassively. After all, he was an old hand at watching women undress before him. I took off my bra last because my breasts hung low and pendulant. I was afraid of offending the young boy and 'turning him off sexually. I did not want that handsome organ to become limp again before I had a chance to get at it.
"Johnny pressed in close to me and grabbed my crotch once more. 'You've got a nice body for an old lady,' he said with disarming frankness.
"I slipped my fingers over his raging flesh. 'And you have a nice body, too, darling,' I told him.
"I was trembling and my voice shook. Had I waited too long for sex? Would the penis of a fifteen year old boy harm me in any way? Johnny quickly divined my fears. He patted my buttocks and spoke soothingly. 'There's nothing to worry about,' he said. 'Sex is fun."
"Sex is fun. For the boy it was all that simple. But how could I communicate with this child across a half a century of being repressed and trained into fearing sex? This boy was lucky. He had been introduced to life's greatest pleasure early and so accepted it in stride. All I could think of was a corny, melodramatic line; 'Be gentle with me."
"We went to bed. I lay rigid and wanting at the same time. Johnny placed his beautiful nakedness next to mine and fondled my body. 'Relax,' he said. 'This won't be as bad as you think it is."
"Imagine a fifteen year old boy having to tell a woman past sixty to relax and enjoy sex? If I had been a fifteen year old girl I could have understood it but I was a wealthy business woman, hard in the ways of the world. Well, the business world at any rate. The world of love was something that I knew nothing about.
"Johnny pressed his lips against mine. How dewy fresh he seemed! How very young and alive! His lips seemed to pump life into me like cool, clean water being pumped into the roots of a dying tree. I clutched that dark, curly head of his and held him. If only I had accepted that invitation to walk in the park with a boy Johnny's age so long ago. I tried to think of myself as a girl again, someone young and untouched. And, at any rate, I was untouched.
"The boy slipped his lean, smooth body on top of mine. His bare skin sent an electric shock through me. A naked young male upon me! Ah, my parents should see me now!
"Johnny was very considerate. He knew that I was a virgin and so did not hurry. You would think a boy his age would have no control at all but this wonderful fifteen year old moved into me easily. He took his erected part in his hand and began to probe my vagina with it. Then he pushed in the head of his organ. I had thought my opening had dried up and had become useless through lack of sex. But the young boy pushed into me as if I had been taking male sex organs all my life.
"He slid into all the way and I felt my maidenhood tear. It wasn't as painful as I had been led to believe. It fact, it was really quite pleasant. I was no longer a virgin! At the age of sixty-one I had finally become a woman!
"Johnny lifted his rump and pushed into me again. I curled my hands over his buttocks and squeezed. The fifteen year old pumped down sexually once more, this time a bit harder. He moved in and out of me rapidly and my passions reached a peak. Waves of erotic joy swept over me. My blood pounded. The naked boy on top of me grunted and sighed as he had his climax. I felt his maleness spew into me like a stream of hot lava. For the moment I thought of the fears I had of becoming pregnant but I then realized I was well past the child-bearing age. Johnny, this boy-lover, was my child. He was the one who was giving me life.
"I held him tightly as he poured his virility into my ancient flesh. I clutched his dark curls and felt his young mouth against mine. It was over. My first sexual experience. What had all those fears been about? Why had I been lied to? What was so terrible about sex anyhow?
"Johnny slept in my arms naked that night. When I looked down at his vital young body I took pride in the knowledge that I had drained him sexually and that he needed rest. But I was too aroused to sleep. I kept runing my hands over his body hoping that he would become aroused, too, and take me once more.
"In the middle of the night when the fifteen year old boy was fast asleep I pulled back the covers and gazed at his naked body in the moonlight. His limp sex lay on its side across the dark patch of his pubic hair. I kissed his flesh and took it orally. As I fellated the boy I felt his penis swell. Johnny stirred in his sleep as he became erected. When he was fully aroused he woke up. 'Loretta?' he asked.
"I pulled my head away for a moment. 'Sorry, Johnny, but I just had to do this. I couldn't resist you."
"'I had a dream that I was being Frenched,' he told me. 'That's what woke me up."
"'I want to French you until dawn,' I answered and put my mouth on him again. After all the sex we had had earlier Johnny was still a bit weak and it was a long time before I could drain him again. I didn't mind. My body had lived without male sex organs for so long that now I couldn't get enough of them.
"When I let Johnny go a week later it wasn't because I was tired of him. I just wanted to get as many young boys as I could. Somehow I was hung up on the fifteen year olds. They were just right for me. They were halfway between being men and being children. I had a couple of eight-teen year olds but, after Johnny, they seemed too old for me. Imagine that? An eighteen year old boy being too old for a sixty-one year old woman! I guess I was just trying to make up for the youth I never had by having sex with as many young boys as I could. With every new boy I have this fear that my advanced age would disgust them but I've lately stopped thinking of myself as old. I think like a fifteen year old and I act like a fifteen year old around these wonderful youngsters. I could kick myself. I've waited until I was past sixty to be a girl for the first time."
Loretta, one of the oldest women in the Youth Exchange, acts like one of the youngest. Having sex relations with so many young boys has altered her. Before, she had been dour and serious but now she is alert and happy. Her friends don't know what has brought about the change and Loretta swears she isn't going to tell them. She wants to keep the boys to herself. Although a friend had put her on to the Youth Exchange Loretta doesn't want to give the address out to any other women. She is greedy for the flesh of young males and she is not in a mood to share it with anyone else.
Loretta is genrerous with her boys when they come but they don't know just how generous she intends to be. The wealthy real estate businesswoman intends to leave the bulk of her will to all the young boys who have made her happy in the remaining years of her life. At the age of sixty-one she has finally taken that walk in the park and she wants to show her gratitude.
CASE HISTORY: Susan, age 32.
At the age of thirty-two Susan had never been married but this did not mean that, like Loretta, she was a virgin. When she was twenty, Susan, an attractive, shapely blonde, gave into the demands of a young man. He had promised to marry her but, once he had been satisfied, he went his way leaving the girl desolate in a run-down motel. Susan, who had run away with the young man, was too depressed and disgusted with herself to return home. She stayed in the town where the young man had deserted her and worked as a waitress. In time she was able to save up and buy the restaurant. She later ex-banded by buying the very motel she had been seduced in, too.
While still young Susan found herself a fairly well off woman. She was able to hire help so that she could take it easy for the first time in twelve years. Ever since her seduction at the age of twenty Susan had avoided men. Her first experience so revolted her that she was not able to think of men romantically at all. This aversion towards the male sex made her drift towards Lesbianism. Off and on over the past twelve years Susan has had a series of girl friends. However, she could never really have a deep and lasting relationship with any of them. At the age of thirty-two she realized that she was not meant to be a Lesbian but a woman who needed males. And yet she could not bring herself to love men. But very young boys were another story. Here is how Susan tells it:
"Maybe I shouldn't be so up-tight about men. That affair happened a long time ago, after all. How innocent I was then! I had the dumb notion that a girl should save herself for her wedding night. I fell for this guy and thought he'd marry me but all he wanted was a screwing.
"That bastard really plowed me that night. It was right here in this motel. He had a hard on him like a gorilla and he banged me like an animal, too. I'm just thankful I didn't get knocked-up. Too many girls are walking around with their bellies full of trouble.
"Somehow I got the idea that I was really a dyke. I figured that if I hated the meat men pack between their legs then I must really dig chicks. The first one I had was a waitress. She was a cute kid with a saucy little can and a fine set of boobies. When I invited her to my room and made a pass at her she didn't seem to mind. I took one of her breasts in my hands and could see that her red nipple was sticking up hard. I took it in my mouth and gradually worked around until I took just about every part of her body the same way, too.
"I kept trying to convince myself that I was a Lesbian but something in me said that this was all wrong. Girls don't belong with girls. Girls belong with boys. Anyhow this chick runs off with the first guy who asks her so I guess she wasn't a dyke, either.
"I didn't have any shortage of guys trying to make it with me. I always told them that I just didn't go for them but they insisted I was really straight and not gay. I guess they all knew that I wasn't a dyke, either.
"The last one I had was a dyke down to her backbone and she told me to atop kidding myself and find a guy with big pisser. Well, I've already had a guy like that and he was nothing but trouble. Then this chick fills me in about an organization she heard of that supplies women with young boys. If I hated grown men maybe I could make it with a little kid.
"Just for the hell of it I sent away for the youngest one on the list. This pretty little twelve year old boy shows up and I can hardly believe that the kid is supposed to make it with me, a woman of thirty-two.
"I have to admit he's cute, though, He seems a little too bright and knowing for his age but that only seems to add to his cuteness. I take him into my room and ask him what does he do now. Alan, that's his name, opens up his pants and says, 'I guess we take our clothes off first. That's what I did the other times."
"Little Alan takes off his clothes and stands in front of me with his thing sticking up like a finger. He is so young he doesn't even have hair around it. 'You make women happy with that? I ask and flick it with my thumb.
"'Lots of women like boys my age. Don't you? You sent for me? If you don't like me you can always send me back."
"Well, this really kills me. I can't send the kid back. He's just so damned cute! The idea that I could have sex with this twelve year old boy didn't seem unusual at all for some reason. I guess that I was so used to unusual sex with other girls it didn't bother me. I just looked at that lovely little body and realized that I was seeing the second male sex organ I had ever been this close to.
"I touched Alan's thing again. It was a sweet little piece of meat, so clean and wholesome. It wasn't like that huge, hurting ugly thing that my first man had carried. Alan didn't make me afraid. I knew that I was in complete control of the sexual activity and I guess that's what attracted me most of all.
"When I took off my blouse little Alan smiled and blushed. He wasn't all that hard-boiled. How could he be at twelve? The sight of a naked female was something that still excited him even if he was supposed to be a crosscountry, boy-whore. Now I have a pretty good size of boobs and Alan drew in his breath sharply when I bared them. He sat next to me on the bed and cupped one of his small hands over a breast. His fingers swept over the nipple and made it react. 'Like 'em baby?' I asked.
"Alan nodded. At twelve there was still much of the little child in him and boobs brought back memories, I suppose. But, then, there are a lot of guys I know who are boob-happy. I stood up wearing nothing but my panties and I told Alan to pull them down. His hands shook when he reached for them and I was glad to see that. I was thrilling him, exciting him. The boy pulled down my panties and stared hard at my cleft. He swallowed hard and looked up at me. 'Am I too much woman for you, Alan?' I asked.
"'No ... no, ma'am', he answered in a quite, little voice.
"When I stood next to him with my well-packed body he seemed so tiny and innocent. I guess that was his big attraction for mature women. It was the big attraction for me. It had been a long time since I had seen innocence in a male.
"'Well, sweetheart,' I said, 'what do we do now?'
"His answer rocked me. In a sweet, boyish voice he said, T guess we fuck."
"'You show me how, my good man,' I answered and held out my hand. He took my hand and led me over to the bed. I stretched out on it and Alan climbed right on top of me. He was swallowing hard and blushing beet-red. He placed his chest between my boobs and the top of his head reached my lips. Alan seemed to be thrusting a finger into my cleft but it turned out to be his thing. I hardly felt it, really. It felt like one of my dyke friends masturbating me with her hand. And yet this was more exciting than the finger of a dyke. This was the real thing, a male sex organ that was slipping in and out of my body.
"I put my arms around the naked twelve year old and felt his heart beat wildly against my breast. I kissed the top of his head as he pumped away. Then he let loose. For the size of the kid I was surprised that he packed so much stuff. It just kept shooting out and, again despite the size of the boy, I started to react myself. I lifted my knees and clamped the boy's slender hips between my inner thighs. This action shot a bolt through him and he erected once more inside me and again he let loose. I suddenly had the greatest urge to play the male part and I rolled him over on his back. I pressed my torso against his little body and pumped away. Alan gave out with a cry of real passion and, would you believe it?, he got stiff and let loose the third time.
"The naked twelve year old was damp with sweat before I was through with him. When I peeled off him he just lay there like a rag doll, so completely in my power. My dyke friend had been right about one thing ... I did need a young boy to set me on the straight path of sex. Men revolted me but not this pretty child. I leaned over and licked his chest. I licked down to his stomach and took that sweet flesh of his. Alan was too spent to work up another bout but I mouthed him real good anyhow. Then he reached up to my breasts. He wanted them. I bent forward and pressed one of my nipples against his lips. His mouth opened and he took the hard nipple. Alan sucked on my nipple and he closed his eyes as he did. I never noticed how long his lashes were before. They were dark against his pale face. His nose was perfect and small and it dug into my breast. I was overpowered with a feeling of deep, genuine love for the boy. I held him in my arms like a baby while he sucked at my nipple.
"I kept Alan for three full weeks. I had planned to keep him only for one week but I just couldn't let him go. The toughest thing was to palm him off as my nephew to the people around here. Most people seem to accept that explanation because they couldn't accept no other. Yet there were some who had the feeling that I was actually shacking up with a twelve year old kid. The only one who really knew was the dyke who had put me on to the Youth Exchange. I told her that she should take the kid to bed with her but she told me that she just didn't care for males no matter how young and pretty they were.
"The boy enjoyed himself here. It was true that he was a whore but he swam in the motel pool and hiked around the countryside just like any other boy his age. Oh, he did try to milk me for an extra buck now and again and I gave in to him. Hell, the cute kid was well worth it. For one thing he got me over my feelings against men. Three weeks with little Alan was better than three years at some head doctor's ... and a lot cheaper. Yeah, I've got me a grown guy now. Alan was a lot of fun but I didn't want to make a career out of little boys. The Women's Youth Exchange still sends me letters and pictures thinking I'm still with the group but I'm not any more. Alan was enough. He straightened me out. I sometimes wonder where that cute little bastard is now? I hope the woman he's with is treating him real nice because he's worth his weight in gold."
Women dropped out of the Youth Exchange for a variety of reasons, usually because they were afraid of being caught with a boy so young. However, Susan's case is a unique one. Her twelve year old boy lover had cured her of a sexual hang-up that was as old as he was. For twelve years the mature woman had been twisted by a love-hate of men and now the twelve year old boy had taken away the hate part making her a happy woman again. A little child had led her out of her private hell.
CASE HISTORY: Joanne, age 44.
Not all drop-outs from the WYE were as happy as Susan, however. Joanne claimed she had dropped out of the Youth Exchange when I interviewed her. She claimed that it was really very wrong for mature women to have sexual relations with young boys no matter how enjoyable it was for both parties. I had the idea that Joanne was suffering from guilt over the pleasures she had received from the young boys but I was not completely convinced that she had given the lads up for good.
Joanne is a school teacher which makes her addiction to young boys all the more a matter of concern for her. If the school ever heard about her sexual interest in young boys she would be fired. In the high school Joanne teaches history there are several boys the spinster has fallen in love with yet she does not dare express her feelings towards them. One slip and she would be through in the teaching profession.
The spinster lives in a cottage near the high school. She is not rich by any means but, through careful savings and investments, Joanne has managed to make her financial position secure. The unmarried teacher is still not well enough off to risk her job so she has a fear of being discovered. At first she had thought that I was a police official but, once she realized that I was a writer who would protect her identity, she willingly talked about herself as if to convince me that she was serious about avoiding young boys in the future. Here is her story:
"I know it is all insane; a woman of forty four having sexual desires for teenaged boys. The odd thing is that I never had any sexual desires to speak of when I was younger. As a girl I was more interested in getting an education and starting a career than I was in boys. At the back of my mind was the idea that I would marry some day, perhaps a professor or another man in the educational field.
"When I passed by thirtieth birthday I realized that my chances of ever marrying were slight. All the men my age were married. I saw my future in the women around me, other school teachers who live alone or, in some cases, with their parents even though they were well into middle age.
"I had heard that women never reach their sexual peak until they are in their thirties. It was true in my case. Quite suddenly I became most interested in sex. I brought sex books and imagined myself in all kinds of situations. Some of the males I daydreamed about were boys I taught. Since I taught children of fourteen and fifteen this annoyed me. Should I be thinking of having sex relations with boys so young?
"As I grew older my desires became greater. I had to fight down the urge to ask some of the boys I really liked to my cottage. This is a small town. If I ever did touch a boy in an erotic way the news would be out inside of hours and I would not be able to teach again.
"I tried to become interested in older men but they did not seem interested in a middle-aged spinster. When it came to sex men seemed to have the advantage of picking and choosing. Why must this be so? A man reaches his sexual peak in his late teens and then peters out from then on. By the time he is forty his sexual ability is at least half of what it had been at eighteen. A woman is different. In her teens her sexual interest are not as strong as they are when she reaches middle-age. For this reason I can't see why older women and teenaged boys cannot be lovers in the open. They are both in a stage of life where their sexual peaks are equal so their enjoyment can be that much greater.
"At the age of forty I decided to lose my virginity. I am not unattractive and I watch my weight so I didn't think a boy would be repelled by me. Then I heard about this club that send young boys to older women for a price. Since my erotic interests centered mainly about boys of fourteen and fifteen I asked for a handsome fifteen year old.
"George showed up at my cottage with a suitcase in hand. He looked very much like a boy I was interested in at school and that was why I had picked him in the first place. He had a very nice physique. He didn't seem at all surprised that I was so much older than he was.
"I did not want him to stay at the cottage for fear that my relationship would be discovered. It was vacation time so I took George with me in a camper, a small truck made up with living quarters. I drove to a secluded place I knew of and parked. I was shaking like a leaf when I went into the living quarters part of the camper with my fifteen year old boy.
"The spot I had selected to park was right on the banks of a small lake that was rarely used since it was off the beaten vacation path. George said he would like to swim first and I thought that that was a good idea, too. When I pulled out my bathing suit he flashed me a boyish smile. 'Don't you want to go in skinny?' he asked.
"I didn't know what he meant at first and then I knew that he wanted to swim naked. Although it was a very secluded spot and it was rare that anyone else ever came to the lake I was still hesitant about swimming in the nude. My old school teacher, spinsterish attitude, I guess.
"George, on the other hand, had no shyness about swimming in the nude. He stripped off his clothes and dove into the lake. My skin tingled as I watch this naked fifteen year old knife through the water. I became so aroused that I took of my own clothes and joined him.
"We splashed around for awhile and George left the lake first. The late afternoon sun shone on his wet body. He was a splendid specimen of adolescent manhood. He was well developed with smooth, hard muscles and his penis seemed exceptionally long. Of course, I was hardly an expert on male sex organs but George impressed me as being excessively built in this area. He stood on the bank with a smile on his face, his hands on his hips and very much exposed. 'Aren't you coming out, Joanne?' he teased.
"I knew that he realized how shy I was about the whole affair. I wanted to get out of the lake and into the camper quickly, not that I was so impassioned, but I was afraid some people might show up. I walked out of the lake revealing my nakedness to a male for the first time. My breasts swung back and forth with every step I took. The smile left the boy's face and he began to leer. George riveted his blue eyes into my body and I could feel them going from my breasts to my vagina. He liked me! I was exciting him. I watched his penis grow longer, curl upward and throb in an erect position. As soon as I stepped out of the water he slipped his hand around my waist and led me into the camper. He was as anxious for sex as I was.
"We dried one another and the fifteen year old rubbed the tip of his sex organ across the lips of my vagina. His young, stiff flesh seemed so very large and demanding. Were all fifteen year old boys built like this, I wondered? Or, was George exceptional?
"He took my shoulders and pushed me gently against the bed. Then he knelt over me with his knees pressing down on both sides of my hips. He seemed to want to watch his penis being inserted into my body. The young boy pushed in the first inch and I gave a quick jerk to my flesh. He leaned forward a bit and pushed his hard organ into me an inch more. George still looked down at the sexual connection as if the sight of it supplied him with a special erotic thrill. He took his time moving into me. When his throbbing flesh ripped through my maidenhood I pushed my torso up quickly and took in the last inch of his penis.
"George lifted his body and I felt his sex part slide upward. Just as he was about to leave me entirely he pushed down again in one, fast stroke. I let out a sharp gasp. He rose and fell again. George held me tight and braced himself as he moved as rapidly as possible. In sheer passion I spread my legs wide. This is what I had been dreaming of for so long. This is what I had wanted so many young boys to do and now fifteen year old George was giving me the love I had denied myself until I had reached middle-age.
"The boy proved to me that I was far from being frigid. Sexual release roared through my body in shock waves. I had heard that many women never achieved this level of eroticism but I was enjoying it in my maiden voyage into sex. The boy released himself and stopped moving. We held each other hard as he poured his young manhood into my naked body. When it was over he rolled over on his back, his long-, limp penis flapping wetly. 'You're a good lay,' he told me frankly. Then he saw my virginal blood. He expressed shock that this was my first sexual experience. 'Hell,' he said, 'I thought you had guys before. You mean you waited all this time before you had sex?'
"I reached over and grabbed his sex organ. 'It has been too long,' I told him. 'Now I want to make up for lost time."
"In my daydreams I had always thought of fellatio as being something quite evil, something that only the most debased of women performed. However, I did not feel debased when I took the young boy orally. His flesh filled me and stiffened slowly as I manipulated my tongue. I gagged when he released himself but I did not break the erotic contact. When his passions drained into me for the second time I thought of all the years I had wasted in frustration and solitude.
"Although this boy was my first lover I knew that he was an expert one. He had the ability to take me to the highest level of sexual excitement in order that I may enjoy passion to the fullest. The boy stopped at nothing. He pressed his mouth against my female opening and performed cunnilingus, not as a duty, but as something he really craved. George loved to play with my breasts. One of his favorite positions was to straddle me, placing his penis between my breasts and then moving them so he would spew out his maleness. All my life I had been a teacher but this fifteen year old was teaching me so many wonderful ways in which one could have sexual pleasure.
'I wanted to keep George on for my entire vacation but I simply could not afford to do so.
But, before my vacation ended, I got another boy from the Youth Exchange, a fourteen year old. He wasn't as well developed as George but he knew how to give pleasure.
"When I returned to school for the next term everyone remarked about how well I looked. I not only felt younger but seemed younger, too. I had the idea that this was the result of the acts of fellatio I had performed upon the young boys. Their youthful sexual energies were like medicine.
"I still did not attempt to seduce any of the boys at school once I got back. I decided only to have sex away from the town and with the boys sent from Los Angeles. This was hard on me because I had to wait for vacations before I could enjoy these lovely lads.
"For the past few summers I have been enjoying boys. Last summer I had five different boys in the thirteen to fifteen year old age group. When I had the thirteen year old I suddenly realized just what kind of a woman I had become. Why, the boy was just a child! There was a thirty year difference in our ages and there I was performing sexual acts upon his slim, little body.
"After having so many boys it may seem a little late to feel guilty about them but I've decided to give them up. If I can't find an older man then I will learn to live without sex. Many women do, you know? I can't complain because, for the past few years, I've had the highest degree of sexual pleasure from young boys. I'll have these memories to keep me warm nights."
The more Joanne claimed that she was giving up boys the more I felt that she wanted, them. I was sure that by next summer she would be out on that lake swimming 'skinny' with another young boy. Sexual pleasure had come late in her life and I doubted that she was going to give it up because this passing feeling of guilt.
CHAPTER THREE
THE DIVORCEES
The divorced women who got young boys from the Youth Exchange represented the most wealthy group of all the mature females belonging to the club. Their wealth came from hefty divorce settlements since the majority of these women had been married to very rich men. Very few of the divorcees seemed anxious to marry again since doing so would mean an end to their monthly payments.
The women in the divorcee group had the most time to spend on themselves. This time, plus their settlements, afforded them all the opportunity to travel the world. A boy who became the pet of one of these women was considered lucky since he then had a chance to see the world, too.
As a class these divorcees tended to distrust mature men. Their experiences in unhappy marriages seemed to make them all cautious about any man past the age of twenty-one. But, with young boys, they were happier. Although they could not control men they could control youngsters who were still considered children.
There was also an element of revenge, I noticed, in the divorcees I interviewed. All of them, to some extent or another, seemed to delight in the knowledge that they could twist and turn young males in any direction they pleased. All of the animosity the divorcees felt against mature men was taken out on boys of twelve to eighteen. The following testimony will point this out:
CASE HISTORY: Francine, age 37.
"Victor was a real bastard. He treated me like a dog. He used to call me his bitch so that made the picture complete. I was married to Victor for thirteen years and only enjoyed the first month or so. He was a hell of a good screw, I'll have to admit. When he took me I was in the clouds all the next day. I wasn't the only woman he put in the clouds, either. Yeah, Victor started playing around almost immediately after our honeymoon.
"I didn't believe it at first. After all, I'm a good looking woman with the kind of figure men stop and stare at on the street. I was even better looking when I was first married. My husband was so nuts about my body he just about tore my clothes off when he got home. Maybe he just married me for my body. He didn't want kids. He went so far as to have an operation to sterilize himself. Well, I'm not the motherly type, either, so I didn't mind. Hell, they're too many people in the world as it is now, right?
"My husband was one hell of a good provider, though, even if he had to have other women. He owned an electronic business and had all kinds of government contracts. Frankly, he screwed the government even more than he screwed me. He liked to brag about how he overcharged the U.S. of A. 'It's the taxpayer's money,' he said, 'and we're the taxpayers so we're really paying ourselves our own money.' Well, you figure that one out. I'm no financial expert.
"Victor didn't start getting mean to me until after we'd been married a couple of years. Then he started getting his kicks by downgrading me in public. He always kidded me about being nineteen before I got out of high school. So, all right! I'm no brain! Should I kill myself because I don't know from math and English?
"I don't know why I stayed with him for so long. I had the grounds to divorce him. I could really take him over the barrel in court just on his adultery raps alone. But, I guess I had no guts. I liked the idea of being married to a big shot like Victor even though he was a bastard. Then he got to be so much of a bastard I had to call it quits. Hell, when a guy slugs you in a public restaurant what else can you do?
"I went to a lawyer and he told me to play it smart and get all the evidence I could against Victor. He asked me if I was playing around, too. I told him that I hadn't. And, that's the truth. There were a lot of guys trying to get into my pants when I was married. Damn, I wish now I'd let 'em. Then, maybe it's better I hadn't. This way I was the offended party at the divorce. I was sinned against and I didn't do no ... or, is it any"! ... sinning.
"My lawyer was one sharp cookie. He got his private eye to check up on Victor just like they do in the movies. He came back with photographs of Victor going to bed with this chick and that chick. Photographs no less! Victor never did learn to pull down the shades. I guess he's learned now, though.
"Well, anyhow I got enough on Victor to really cream him for a settlement. He didn't contest the divorce and now I can collect five hundred a week for the rest of my life! Imagine that? I wish now I'd divorced the bastard long ago.
"Anyhow, that's all water under the bridge, like they say. I got enough dough to live in style and have all the fun I want. All the old wolves that used to be after me are sniffing around knowing that I'm available. Well, I'm not available to them. I want to stay away from these guys with their hot paws and their big ideas. Give me a kid anytime. I can talk to a kid, you know? Maybe I'm really a kid myself at heart and that's why I get along with them so.
"I like the real young ones, you know, twelve and thirteen. To begin with they're not big enough to beat me up like Victor used to do and they're not old enough to milk me for the five hundred I get each week. Oh, these kids try to milk me for some extra dough but it ain't ... isn't ... the kind of loot a mature man would demand.
"Gary is my favorite kid. He's only twelve but he makes love like he's got a yard-long pisser. The kid doesn't even have hair between his legs let alone enough meat to make a woman sit up and take notice. But I'm nuts about the boy. I can't wait to get my hands and mouth on him. Oh, I French him, all right. He's got the kind of body you would just have to French. His skin is so silky and his thing is so nice. He's wild over my body, too. When we first went to bed together he didn't know where to shove his thing he was that excited. The kid likes behinds, a real Greek type boy, you know. Victor liked to do me in the rear but he used to make me scream. The bastard never did use no ... any ... cream or like that.
"My twelve year old lover is built so cute and small that he does me dry and I'm not hurt. Gary is just the right size for me.
"The kid costs me a lot so I can't have him around all the time like I want to. Once we went away together for a whole month, jetting all around the world. Imagine that? Victor never took me no place. The whole trip came all of a sudden. I was in bed with Gary and we were busy licking each other's body after a real hot session. 'If I lick your whole body,' the kid says, 'that's what is known as a round-the-world job."
"'Honey,' I told him, 'I wish I could love you all the way around the world for real."
"He looks at me with those cute, button eyes. 'Why not?' he asks.
"So, the next day we're both down at the airport taking the first plane going anywhere. Since we intend to fly around the globe it didn't matter where we went to first. We wind up in Japan and I sign him into the hotel as my son. This becomes a joke between us when we're alone. 'How about a Frenching, mom?' Gary like to ask.
"'No, son,' I'd answer, 'I'm in the mood for a Greek."
"We go on to India and I see kids of nine and ten offering their bodies for sale on the street. Gary is an old man compared to some of these tiny tots. At least I can see where making it with a young kid isn't all that unusual.
"Gary gets a bug or something while we're in India and I nurse him back to health. I mean, I really nurse him by letting him have my breasts. Oh, I have no milk, I know, but Gary digs my size thirty-eight's so much that he does improve. I get a kick out of having him sit on my lap naked while he mouths me. I play with his pretty little dingus as he goes to town. He's so weak he just can't get it up. I guess maybe we were having too much sex and that's what made him sick. I had to remember that he's really only a child.
"Once Gary gets up and around we move on to Greece. Naturally, we have to do it the Greek way. In the hotel room my little boy kisses and licks my butts including my you-know-what. It tickles there but he thrills me. Then he got on top of me and spread my butts wide. Gary pumped away until he spilled over. I then kissed his sweet little rear. I work on him with my biggest finger which is about the same size as his dingus.
"We go on to London. I buy the kid a lot of suits and he is really beautiful. I can tell you how beautiful he is. While I'm sitting in the lobby of our hotel I watched this tall, gray-haired guy try to pick him up. Gary brushes him off. When he gets to me he says, 'You see that old fag try to make me?'
"I guess the kid is really pretty grown up for his age. He knows everything. Well, we fly to New York and then back here. It took us a month to go around the world and I can tell you my savings took quite a beating. But, I don't mind. The trip and Gary were well worth it.
"The next boy I pick is thirteen and very blond. He is almost as tall as I am and, even though he is only one year older than Gary, has twice as much meat between his legs. His name is Steven and, like Gary, is a run away from home. Except in the blond boy's case he wants to make enough money to go back home in style. In my day it used to be the girls who hustled and now the boys are in on the racket. Well, they say the male and female roles are being reversed.
"Thirteen year old Steven is built well enough to give me satisfaction. With Gary it was like being screwed with the stub of a pencil but with this new kid it was like being made by a regular sized man. His body was long and thin and he pumped away like Victor used to, a bull in heat. I hold on to the boy and run my hand over his very fair skin. I know a lot of women who would give up five years of their lives for skin like this boy's. There isn't a pimple or a blemish on him. He has a body made to be kissed.
"I guess these young boys bring out the French in me. I never liked to do it to Victor because he was always so rough and ugly about it. He used to make me kneel on the floor in front of him while he held my cheeks and then pumped his stuff into my face. Ugly, you know? But, with these boys it was a pleasure. I would have them stretch out on the bed while I did them. Their bodies are so young and smooth I know that they won't turn ugly.
"Another boy I had is named Tony. He's dark as Steven is light. A cute boy with shiny black eyes and a nice bunch of flesh between his legs. He's thirteen but he's built more like sixteen. He acts like a sixteen year old, too, the way he goes to town on me. He likes to French women like I do boys. He told me that he doesn't like hair between a woman's legs and so he shaved my thing until it was bald. Then he chewed me so hard that I had one big hickey mark there for a week.
"Once, just for the hell of it, I tried an older boy. This eighteen year old comes in and he sounds just like Victor with his dirty, ugly ways. When he comes down on top of me I felt like I was being crushed. I got so used to the nice, small bodies of the younger boys that he is something of a shock to me. I guess I also got used to the meat of twelve and thirteen year old lads because this guy plows into me with something that belonged on a stallion.
"The eighteen year old is a rough lover and, when I complain, he tells me that he thought I'd picked him because he was so rough. 'Most of the dames I love haven't had a good bang in so long that they pick the biggest stud they can find,' he says. 'I hear you've been having the little kids. I just figured that you wanted a man for a change."
"'Maybe I did,' I told him,' but I miss those little kids now. I just don't dig man-sized males anymore."
"'Hell, lady,' he tells me, 'if you want me to go easy just say so. I've been in this racket for five years now and know how to please all kinds of dames."
"This eighteen year old is a reasonable enough guy so we make it for a week or so. The boy does pack a weapon, one that makes Victor look like a twelve year old. I could see where he could make the coldest woman happy but I don't need warming up. I just couldn't get really interested in him, that's all. I just missed my little boys. When I find out that my first one, Gary, is available I send for him right away. He throws himself at me as soon as he comes in the door yelling, 'Mother!'
"'Son!' I yell back and we go to bed right away.
"I find out that Gary has grown a lot since I'd seen him last. He's beginning to get hair around his sex and his voice is deeper. Not only that he seems a whole lot sharper and wiser. He's still only twelve but, damn it to hell, how fast they learn! Gary just isn't the same kid I'd gone around the world with.
"I guess in any sex racket no one keeps that young freshness for long. When Gary makes love to me he seems too professional. Before he used to be so hot anl anxious but now he is cool. I asked him how many other women he had after me. He answers that he's lost count. He lost count! Imagine that? He's twelve years old yet he's lost count of how many women he had.
"Well, the Youth Exchange keeps coming up with fresh new kids. Right now I'm promised a twelve year old who has never been touched before. I can break him in. That will be sweet. If he turns out to be as cute as Gary once was I'll take him on a trip around the world. And I mean that in every way!"
Francine obviously has a very juvenile mind despite the fact that she had been married for thirteen years to a wealthy businessman. It was this juvenile charm that had doubtlessly attracted Victor to her in the first place. There are many men who like to have children in women's bodies. In this sense he had the same need for youth as Francine has. He would never actually have relations with a young girl but he liked to have women who were really girls at heart despite their well-endowed figures.
But Francine is more direct than that. She was a child-like woman who could only respond fully to other children. At first Gary was her child but he had suddenly grown too old for her even though he was still just twelve. The Youth Exchange services women like Francine who must have young boys to satisfy their young girl attitudes.
Other divorcees are not as child-like and crave large, muscular types for these women the Youth Exchange has an endless supply of overly endowed young males of seventeen and eighteen.
Boys in the older age group seem much easier to find. At seventeen and eighteen it is common for a boy to pick up and leave home, sometimes for good. Many drift into prostitution but it is usually of the homosexual variety since women simply don't walk the streets in search of young boys the way men do. The boys who do manage to be prostitutes to females consider themselves lucky since they feel that they are being normal in servicing women instead of men. However, if the price is right, these same boys would willingly switch to homosexuality.
The following case concerns a woman fairly well known in theatrical circles. Her addiction for teenaged boys is no secret and I've found her the most candid of all the females I've interviewed for this study. She lives in Malibu, a beach resort not far from the headquarters of the Youth Exchange where she gets most of her boys. She, like other such women in the area, have the advantage of getting the cream of the stud crop. The only thing this woman was coy about was her age. I looked up her true age in an old playbill before I interviewed her. The age that she gave me was ten years younger. It is true that she looked ten years younger than her actual age but, for the sake of this study, I am listing the one I've discovered in a playbill.
CASE HISTORY: Ann, age 50.
"I can't see why women can't have teenaged boys. Men have teenaged girls and no one turns a hair. I don't hide the fact that I dig these young studs. I take them with me wherever I go and make no excuses. All my ex husbands have girl friends old enough to be their daughters so why can't I play the same game? I was married four times. I suppose you know that. You would think that by the age of forty, I would be able to hold on to a man, wouldn't you? But, I guess I'm not one to have lasting relationships. I prefer quick rolls in the hay.
"The last lover I had was seventeen years old. Kind of a wacky kid, always on pot or something. I have nothing against pot, you understand, but drugs depress the sex drive. And I don't want my sex drive depressed.
"I'm a charter member of the Youth Exchange. I was with it from the very beginning so they send me all the fresh meat. These kids get awfully dried out awfully quick. A woman can take out a hundred guys in one night but how many women can a guy take on? Even the best stud can only be good for so long and then he poops out. Besides, men really don't like women, do you know that? Women are only things to be used, like toilet paper. There are a lot of other things men are more interested in like cars, for example. Why, every stud I had out here went ape over my cars and spent more time with them than they did with me. I have three cars, you know. I really don't use them much but the kids like to tool around in them.
"Some of the boys the Youth Exchange send me want me to get them into the movies. I hate being used that way. That's why I don't look for these very beautiful boys who are more stuck on themselves than anything. I made the mistake of picking the very attractive boys in the beginning. The first one was a real doll named Dick. And, let me tell you, he didn't live up to his name. He had jet black, curly hair, the biggest, bluest eyes in the world, pale skin and the kind of features you'd have to give a plastic surgeon five grand to get. Well, Dickie Boy starts right away with his pitch about getting into the movies. 'I'm every bit as good looking as (name of star) and he's a fag,' he told me.
"Well, I know that (name of star) really is a fag but only the in people know about it. The only way Dickie Boy could've found out was to have hustled him himself. So, Dickie is a switchhitter. I was one myself in my younger days. I think that everyone should try everything in sex before they make up their minds what they want the most.
"Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, Dickie Boy. This beautiful eighteen year old stud had a body on him like a Greek god. I know that's a corny statement but it was true in his case. He told me that he worked out with the weights at Muscle Beach which is only down the road a piece. I used to cruise the place but these damned fans would always find me out. Anyhow, Dick is very well built in all areas save one ... and you know what one that was. Yeah, Dickie Boy had a dong on him no bigger than my thumb.
"But, I'm an old hand around men and I know it isn't what you got so much is how you use it. When Dickie comes to bed with me he doesn't try to bang right away. He licks my breasts and plays with my thing. I figure that he's working up to that one big bang.
"After Dickie licks my breasts he run his tongue down to my thighs and Frenchs me. He is stretched out so that his hips are close to my face and I can see what he has close up. That thumb of flesh was still limp and I guessed that he had been having too much sex lately. I made a mental note to tell the Youth Exchange that I only wanted studs who were raring to go.
"By the way Dickie moves his hips against me I can see where he wants me to French him at the same time. I take that thumb and really-work on it. Dickie begins to swell up and stiffen but he still doesn't have much. He reminded me of my last husband who was in his fifties when I divorced him. This was the kind of performance he used to turn out. With him I could expect it but Dickie was just eighteen, the age where boys walk around with stiff rods all the time.
"Finally Dickie is ready. He pulls out of me and then places his body on mine. In goes his thumb and he pumps away. When he spills it isn't much but it is all he's got. Then he lets out a sigh like he's been going half the night and slips off of me. That's all he's good for and we have to make with the mouths again. Hell, if I dug French stuff so much I could've called up my second husband. That's what he liked to do the best. But I wanted a good sexing and I had hoped to get it from the boy.
"Dickie doesn't improve and I send him back to the Exchange. I am more specific about what I want and the next kid fills the bill. His name is Carlos and only seventeen. He isn't good looking or well built but he carries a cannon that would blow up the world. Carlos is a Latin-type and, like all Latin males, are crazy about blonde women on the plump side. Now you can see that I'm no Twiggy so this boy flips over me. He is wearing tight jeans and his dong just about breaks through his zipper when I take off my bra.
"When Carlos plows into me that first time I thing he's wearing an eight-inch dildo he is that big and hard. He is all animal when it comes to sex. He gets a special kick out of doing it dog-fashion. This boy has me get down on all fours on the bed while he slips me that lovely manhood from behind. At the same time he grabs my breasts in his hands and squeezes them with every stroke. When he has his climax I feel like a hot-water hose had been shoved into me. Damn, there aren't many good lays like Carlos around. I wanted to keep him on but the Youth Exchange told me that he's left the state. Kids don't stay with the Exchange long. Like I told you, men really don't like women.
"The big turn-over at the Youth Exchange works in my favor though. There is always another great stud in each new crop. And some aren't so great. Take Earl, for instance. He's the pot-head I've told you about. Like Carlos he wasn't much on looks but he had what it took to make me happy. That is ... when he wasn't on pot. He had the idea that I was a pot-head, too, and offered me what he called 'a joint' the day we met. Now, I'm an old-fashioned girl. To me a 'joint' is what guys carry between their legs so, naturally, I told him I'd love one. Instead of pulling out his meat he pulls out this cigarette with no name on it.
"Earl tells me that he gets very sexy after smoking pot so I let him smoke up a storm. We're in bed together naked as jaybirds and I wait until he finishes a couple of joints. The kid gets very dreamy and talks about all the pretty colors on the wall and crap like that. He has to pull on himself to make it hard and, when he's ready, he all but falls asleep on top of me. I have to roll him over on his back and do all the work before I get him to show me what a man he is. When he gives out he talks crazy. He has the idea that he's banging a whole flock of broads.
"The kid only thinks he's sexy when he's on pot and I give him the bad news when he comes to his senses. He doesn't believe me. He tells me that his thing grows to a foot and a half long when he's blowing his mind.
"I try to get the kid off the weed but I can't watch him all the time. When he is off the stuff he is really a great lover. But, he's so convinced that he is only great when on the weed that he thinks he turned in a lousy performance. My third husband was like that when he was on booze. Every time he got sloppy drunk he thought he was a wonderful lover and used to flop down on top of me with his thing like a wet noodle. The next morning he'd be strutting around like a peacock telling me what a great screw we had last night. My third husband really loved the bottle more than me. And Earl really loved pot more than getting put. He loved cars, too. When he was flying one day he tried to start one of my cars but didn't get further than the garage door. A good thing, too. He could've creamed someone on the highway. The cops would trace the car back to me and ... headlines. I don't need that kind of publicity so I don't expect I'll be having Earl call on me again. Right now I'm lining up a seventeen year old stud right off the farm. He's big and raw-boned, the way I like them. He doesn't take pot and has no idea about becoming a movie star. I like these big, healthy studs who never want to crawl out of the sack. If I find the right one I might even marry him and make him Husband Number Five."
Ann went on to discuss the various sizes and shapes of male sex organs in the most candid way. She didn't seem to be a nymphomaniac exactly but she appeared very close to becoming one. As the small town school teacher had found out Ann was discovering that she was becoming more sexual as the years went on. Since she had the looks, the money and the lack of inhibitions to attract young males she did not have to worry about becoming frustrated in her quest for youthful eroticism.
Yet, with all An's talk about how much she Yet, with all Ann's talk about how much she against these boys. She hated Dick for his lack of sexuality and Earl for his drug-taking. Ail through the interview she kept repeating that men really disliked women. I had the feeling that she was unsure of her feminine attraction and so was convinced that no man, husband or lover, had ever wanted her for herself. It seemed sad to me that this well known theatrical personality had so many reservations about her ability to love and be loved. It was, no doubt, the prime driving force behind her restless search for passion.
CASE HISTORY, Linda, age 42.
Of all the divorcees I interviewed Linda was the most obvious man-hater. She had been married twice before to men who resented her dominating manner. One lasted two years and the other lasted only six months. Linda was a woman who had to be the stronger partner in all her personal relations, sexual and otherwise.
Linda was an attractive woman with a large bust that had to measure at least forty inches. She was tall and yet she did not appear ungainly. She carried her weight well. Unfortunately, it was also weight that she loved to throw around. Her own words reveals this agressive trait:
"Ever since I was twelve men have been after me. At twelve I was built more like a sixteen year old. My breasts had developed early and I had almost all my pubic hair. The first man who tried to make me was my uncle. Before I had blossomed out he had taken only a passing interest in me but, once he saw my boobs beginning to swell, he couldn't take his hands off me.
"Even at twelve I knew when a man had sexual intentions. I told my uncle that, if he didn't stop bothering me, I'd have him arrested for child molestation. This cooled him right away.
"From then on I knew that I had to keep men down. If I didn't they'd be all over me in a minute. By the time I was fifteen I was built like a woman, a well developed woman. The boys at school were always after me. When I went out on dates their hands would be on my breasts two seconds after I got in the car.
"I let them know soon enough that I was no round-heels who could be pushed over on her back with one shove. One son-of-a-bitch wouldn't take 'no' for an answer and raped me. I fixed his wagon. I saw to it that he got a twenty-to-life jolt in prison. He tried to claim that he thought I was over twenty-one but he knew my age.
"I married my first husband when I was nineteen. The poor bastard fell in love with my breasts but he didn't know that he had to have all the rest of me with them. On our wedding night he almost ate my breasts off before he finally made regular love.
"My first husband was a jerk. He was vice-president of a tool-and-die company but that was only because his father was the president. He didn't know from beans about anything but he got a hell of a good salary anyhow. Actually, his father was more my speed because he was the kind of man who would not let any woman dominate him. There aren't many men like that these days. They're all breast babies.
"We lasted two years and I waited another two before I married my next husband. At first I thought he'd be the kind of rugged guy I was always looking for but he was like putty in my hands. I could make him do anything I wanted. When I told him to change his job he did because he was so nuts over my body. I guess he couldn't take all of me on a steady basis so he ran away like a coward. The next thing I know I get a letter from a lawyer saying that I would get a No bad for a half a year's work, huh?
"Since I wasn't too crazy over my second husband anyhow I signed the paper and started to collect a nice bundle each and every month, fat settlement if I just agreed to a quick divorce.
"I lost my first settlement by marrying my second husband and I wasn't going to make that mistake again. I never expect to marry. I'd be an idiot to give up my monthly payments. Of course, this doesn't mean I gave up sex. When I heard about this place that sends out young studs I became a member.
"They sent me a kid named Cliff who was sixteen. Once he got a look at my boobs he nearly went wild. I was more than he had expected. He's not tall or muscular but he's man-sized where it counts. Cliff rams me like a goat in heat and, just as he's at his climax, I wrap my legs around him and roll over so that he's under me. I pump my torso on him until I drain him dry. By the time I let him up he's weak and pale. The kid wants to suck on my nipples but I tell him I want other things first. I stand up and tell him to kneel in front of me. Cliff gets to his knees and knows I want him to love me with his mouth. At sixteen he seems to be an old timer at this kind of sex and does a really good job.
"Then I tell him to lick my entire body and he starts at my feet. I get a kick out of him on the floor in front of me. Cliff licks up my legs and then between my butts. I tell him to be sure not to miss any spot. He knows what I mean and he roams his tongue everywhere. It takes him at least a half an hour to work up to my breasts. My nipples are hard and pointed and he takes one into his mouth. We fall into the bed and Cliff falls asleep while he's nursing on me.
"I'm really too much woman for Cliff. I tell him that he has to be my sex slave all the time he is with me. I have him scrub my back while I'm in the tub and massage me afterwards. I turn this kid into the kind of body servant the ancient Romans used to have. I should have been born then.
"Cliff is a good, strong stud but I keep him exhausted by my demands. After every sex bout he falls asleep with his head between my breasts. By the time the week is up he's dragging around like a basket case. I think he was glad when I let him go.
"The next boy I sent for was only fourteen, a real cute kid with red-blonde hair. His body is girlishly beautiful. When he took off his clothes I can see that he's already hard with excitement. Jerry has a sweet little dildo that still has some growing to do. I take it orally and the fourteen year old boy has a climax. I drain him dry and then take off my clothes. When he sees my breasts he says, 'Those are the biggest I've ever seen!'
"I take his head and bring him close to me. HJs lips just reach my nipples. I tell him to lick my breasts and the boy runs his tongue over every part of them. When he comes to my nipples he sucks on them so hard that he gives me hickey marks. I tell him that, because he gave me hickies, I'd have to give him some.
"I put an angry tone into my voice so that the young boy becomes frightened. Oh, how I love to make these kids jump! I order Jerry to stretch out on the bed with his pretty can up.
Then I press my mouth against him and suck and chew away while he complains that I'm hurting him. I hold him down until his rear end is covered by red welts.
"Poor Jerry. I think I've scared him out of the boy-whore business. In the week I had him I made the kid do everything all the time no matter how exhausted he was. I made him lay me so many times that he could hardly walk around once he got out of bed. 'You're not much of a man,' I told him. 'I don't think you'll ever be.
"'I'm only fourteen,' he complained. 'What do you expect?'
"Of course, the kid is doing his best and he is good for his age. I just like to throw the harpoon into these kids. When they shack up with me they'll never forget it as long as they live."
Linda went on bragging about how she made her boy studs crawl for her. Her hate was obvious. She was working out a lifetime of animosity against men through these children. And yet, strangely enough, Linda dreamt of a really powerful man who would not allow her to dominate him. But the divorcee found a weird pleasure in making young males submit to her will. With every new boy her sadism became more and more in evidence. There was no telling how far the distraught woman would finally go with these young boys.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE MARRIED WOMEN
A surprising number of married women were members of the Youth Exchange. Although some of youth with their husband's knowledge and, in bands notice many more enjoyed the stud service of youth with their husbands knowledge and, in some cases, their cooperation! The reasons why men would allow their wives to have sex relations with very young boys are as varied as there are cases. It is much easier to understand a case in which the husband is kept in the dark about his wife's passion for young boys. The following is one example:
CASE HISTORY: Agnes, age 47.
The subject lives with her husband in a fashionable part of an Eastern city. Agnes is a short, dumpy woman with a pleasant face and a quiet voice. No one would suspect that she has been having sex relations with boys of thirteen, fourteen and fifteen for the past year. She looks more like the head of the local P.T.A. which, it turned out, she was. Although Agnes is a mother all her children were young adults and she is a grandmother three times over. She has absolutely no guilty feelings about her involvement with boys three decades and more her junior. To her sex is one of life's pleasures like drinking and eating and should be enjoyed on just a regular a basis as they are.
"I have nothing to hide. I would like to tell my husband about my little boy lovers but I know how stuffy he would be about it. Men are such prudes, really!
"John, my husband, is just a few years older than I am but he gave up sex about ten years ago. It was then he asked for a seperate room because he needed to work late at night. John is very ambitious and hard working but I knew that the real reason he wanted that room was to get away from me. I always tried to get him to love me at least once a week and he just couldn't rise to the occasion so to speak.
"I must admit I'm no beauty but does this mean I have to live without sex? People have the odd notion that, when a woman becomes a grandmother, sex should be behind her ... far behind her. I just don't think that way. I think that people should have sex in every age from babyhood on.
"What is so terrible about sex, anyhow? It is a natural, normal function. When I was a girl the word sex wasn't even mentioned at our house let alone being discussed. Once I walked into the bathroom and saw my father naked and drying himself after a shower. The way he ranted and raved you would think I was some kind of sex pervert. I saw his penis. It was only in a split second flash but I didn't feel that it was such an awful organ. A long, tube of flesh hanging down with a patch of hair over it. Is this the ghastly object that I had to fear and avoid?
"I stayed a virgin until I married. John was a virgin too. This should have told me that he was not exactly the most emotional and sexual man in the world. He fumbled badly on our wedding night and the whole business was fraught with tension. At any rate we managed to get used to one another, after a fashion, and children were born to us.
"My husband seemed more interested in his work and stayed at the office overtime even though he did not get paid for it. He advanced rapidly and now is quite important in his company in a way, this is his real love, his real wife.
"I was still a young woman when John moved into his own room. Sex might be over for him but it wasn't for me. I could not find a man just like that. I was too timid. Boys, however, did not frighten me. I thought of how wonderful it would be to have a really young male, someone in his teen I could make love to.
"Then I heard about the Youth Exchange. I could not bring a boy into my home so I rented a cottage fifty miles away. It was secluded and private. I brought my first boy here. Robert was his name and he was just thirteen. He was about my height but much slimmer and much pretiter. Robert had blond hair and dimples, a very lovely child.
"I took him to the cottage after first making up an excuse that I had to be away for a week. John didn't seem to mind even though I had never been away from home on my own since we got married. John didn't seem to mind what I did. I was sure that he never suspected I was seeing a lover on the side ... a thirteen year old lover.
"I suppose it was the mother in me but I had to make the boy a meal first. He told me that he was an orphan who had escaped from the institution he had been living in. He told me how unhappy he had been at the place and my heart just went out to him. He seemed so small and defenseless. But I did not feel guilty about wanting to have sex with him. Sex, was love, sexlessness was hate.
"Robert had some cookies and milk. There was a milk mark over his ruby lips and he wiped it away with his sleeve. His actions were all so boyish, all so charming. 'Do you want me to do it to you now?' he asked.
"'Yes,' was all I could manage to say. I could feel the blood rise up in my face making me red.
"Robert took off his clothes. He had a beautiful body and his penis was in a full state of erection. I wanted to mouth him. I had never mouthed John nor he me. I was too timid to make that move and he was just too stuffy to care for this form of sexual pleasure. I placed my hands on the thirteen year old boy's hips and brought him close to me as I sat on a chair. His throbbing young sex organ was only a couple of inches from my lips. I knew that a lot of people thought this particular act as sinful but I could see no harm in taking the lad's sex organ orally. I cupped my hands over Robert's buttocks and brought him closer to me as I opened my mouth. He filled me with his flesh. The boy didn't seemed the least surprised by this act of fellatio and I was sure that he had had it performed upon him before.
"I moved my head back and forth with my tongue sweeping over his lust-stiffened manhood.
The young boy released his passion and I allowed the evidence of his virility to enter me, I kept holding him fast by his pretty rump until his climax had passed. I kissed his flat stomach and his narrow chest. I kissed his neck and then his mouth. As I did his lips parted and his tongue probed into me. French-kissing, they called it. I had never been French-kissed let alone French anything. I had to wait until I was pushing fifty before I could find a young boy to kiss me like this.
"I took off my own clothes. I'm not proud of my body but I'm not exactly ashamed about it either. Robert didn't seem to mind the fact I was no beauty. He sat on the bed playing with his penis, making it hard for more love-making.
"I slipped into the bed next to him and we French-kissed again. Robert played with my breasts while I played with his sex organ. I could feel his sweet meat beginning to swell in my hand. When it was hard enough the thirteen year old boy placed his slim form on top of me. He neatly guided his flesh into my body and began to thrust sexually. The boy did not fumble as my husband had on our wedding night. If only some woman had seduced him at the age of thirteen perhaps we could have still been sleeping in the same room.
"Robert kept thrusting until he had another climax. It was the first time in ten years that a male organ had penetrated my body like that. This thought made me so sad that I wept. The young boy, bless him, thought that he had hurt me in some way. 'Don't cry lady,' he said. 'I didn't mean to be so hard on you."
"I held him in my arms. 'Oh, no, sweetheart,' I told him, 'I was just thinking how nice it would be if I were your age. How we could love one another."
"'We're doing that right now,' he answered in that direct children's manner.
"I had planned to spend only one week at the cottage with the boy but he was so enchanting that I had to keep him on. I telephoned John and told him that I would be delayed for another week and he actually sounded relieved that I wasn't coming back home. I then called the Youth Exchange. All members have their unlisted number. I had to first give my name and then a code that proved I was not an outsider. It is really all so cloak-and-dagger but, when a service deals in bringing mature women and young boys together it could not be too careful.
"The woman who answered seemed pleased that I was pleased with Robert. 'He's really one of our best boys,' she told me. 'Such a charmer. Well, have a good time."
"Robert was a very good boy, sexually and every other way. He even performed cunnilingus upon me. I had not expected this much out of the child because I know my figure does not exactly excite male passion. Anyhow he showed me all the forms of sexual experience I had missed. Robert performed sodomy upon me besides the oral acts. I just could not get enough of the child. When I woke in the morning and found his lovely, naked body besides mine I just had to kiss every part of him. It was my habit to wake him by engaging in fellatio with him. When he erected I knew that he was awake.
"This thirteen year old spoiled me more than I spoiled him. I gave him clothes and things but he gave me his complete devotion. I supposed that it was his emotionally bare past that had made him so anxious to please. I know because I was just like him. My life had been so lonely that I would do anything for anyone who would show me the slightest affection.
"But, unfortunately, not all boys strode so hard to please as Robert had. The next boy was a fifteen year old who never made a move towards me, I had to do just about everything. He was handsome and well-endowed but very sullen and moody. It was like pulling teeth to get him to speak but, when I finally did manage to get him to perform sexually, he did it very well. Although he was fifteen his penis was as large as my husband's but he was much more virile. He knew how to hold back and keep thrusting until I was trembling with passion. And then he would climax just as passions were released in me, too.
"The boy was a good technical lover. What he lacked was warmth. He was just too mechanical. If his organs were strapped on to Robert I would have the perfect lover.
"This fifteen year old didn't last with me long. I even let him go two days before the week was out. The Youth Exchange knew that I was not pleased with the boy and promised to send another like Robert. I asked them why couldn't they just send Robert himself. Then I got the bad news that another woman had him on a lengthy term and that they were somewhere in Europe together. I know that the boy is just a prostitute who sold his favors but I felt a keen pang of jealousy for him. The Exchange promised to send the boy to me after this other woman had finished with him. I felt like someone waiting in a meat market with a number in my hand. I told the Youth Exchange to send me another boy, anyone who was available.
"A cute fourteen year old showed up and we went out to the cottage. I was glad to see that he was not as mechanical and as sullen as my last boy had been. He was warm and wonderful although not like my beautiful Robert. The boy enjoyed having me perform oral acts upon him and waking him up every morning with my mouth on his flesh. We had a very nice week together and I sent him back to Los Angeles with a package of home-made cookies.
"The oddest thing about my affairs with young boys is that my husband doesn't seem the least bit interested when I am gone for a week or two. I have stopped making excuses or even calling him and yet he just goes about his business as if I were just the hired girl. Sometimes I am just dying to yell into his ears about the love affairs I am having with children. That would wake him up. But, why should I ruin this one opportunity I have for happiness? Let my husband sleep while I enjoy myself."
The man's complete indifference to his wife has made her sexual adventures possible. Agnes feels bitter about the fact that her husband would not even consider the idea that she is seeing other males on the side. Their sex life had been so dull that the husband would never believe his wife capable of such eroticism as performing fellatio on teenaged boys. But, Agnes knows that this very indifference also protects her. She can expect to go on having young boy lovers without her husband ever suspecting a thing. In the bitterness there is this sweetness.
CASE HISTORY: Karen, age 85.
While the first subjects husband did not know of his wife's affairs Karen's husband knew all a-long about his wife's sexual encounters with teenaged males. Not only did he know ... he approved! Karen is a strikingly good looking woman who has a slender yet shapely figure. She lives with her husband in an expensive co-op apartment in Manhattan. Her husband, Gregory, is twenty five years her senior and a popular attorney belonging to a well established firm. He is a handsome, gray-haired man who is highly respected in his profession and his beautiful wife is an asset to his business and social life.
Gregory had been married before and his first wife had died in an auto accident. When he met the beautiful Karen he was well into his fifties while she was still a young and vital woman. He had hoped to rekindle his passions through Karen but his youth had long since gone leaving his much younger wife unsatisfied.
Karen frankly told her husband that she had to have more sex in her life and that she was tempted to seek out other men. Gregory realized that he could not satisfy her and he also didn't want his wife to start playing around causing a scandal. The law firm he worked for was rigid and old-fashioned. It would not tolerate one of its members being involved in a messy sex case.
The lawyer took a direct course of action and decided to supply his wife with lovers. He is unique in being the only man to get in contact with the Youth Exchange. Gregory felt that teenaged boys would be the best for his wife since he knew that she could not become emotionally involved with boys so young. However, sexual involvement was all right. All he wanted the boys for were sort of living dildoes. Karen tells her story this way:
"I had to admit that Gregory was being very adult about the whole thing. Another man would have ranted that I was oversexed and divorced me. He wanted to keep me for his old age and to do this he knew he had to get me sexual gratification in some way. He contacted the Youth Exchange and had them send over an eighteen year old stud who was very well endowed.
"Sal was a rough kind of a kid with almost no education. I could see why my husband had picked him. He knew that I could not bear stupid people. In this way I would not fall in love with the boy and complicate matters. His eight inch penis was all Sal really had to offer.
"It certainly was enough to satisfy any woman. This stud plowed into me and gave me the best screw I've ever had and, before I married Gregory, I had been had by the best. I get so excited that I shoot my feet in the air while he goes up and down like a ball of fire. Sal reaches his peak and sends out his jet stream of love that all but nails me against the mattress. My husband always wanted to give me the best in everything and he certainly found me the best stud in the country.
"Sal is proud of his penis and he strutted around the room with it swinging back and forth every time we had sex. 'Ever see meat like this, baby?' he's ask waving the thing in my face.
"Of course, I never did see anyone as endowed as he was but his bragging got on my nerves. He wasn't much on conversation, I had to look to Gregory for that. I suppose a woman couldn't ask for too much in one package. While Gregory satisfied my mind Sal satisfied my body.
"The eighteen year old boy loved to be fellated. Even limp he was as long as most men are hard. When I took his organ in its relaxed state it filled me completely. As his weapon grew hard with desire I could barely encompass half of it. When he reached his peak he all but drowned me with passion. This boy was two men rolled into one.
"At first Gregory stayed away when Sal showed up but then he remained in the house while I went to the bedroom with the stud. The second Sal saw my husband he knew right away why he had been hired. 'Can't get it up, huh, pops?' be said to Gregory.
"My husband bristled and told him to go about his business. Sal wasn't the most tactful person in the world. He didn't know it at the time but that little remark just lost him a client. Gregory told the Exchange to send a stud with manners. For this he was willing to have a boy Who was short a couple of inches. The next stud was a nice looking kid of eighteen who had just an average body and sexual development. He didn't brag like Sal nor did he get on my husband's nerves. At no time did Chet even allude to the fact that my husband's sexual well had run dry. As a matter-of-fact Gregory rather liked the boy which said much for Chet considering the circumstance. The three of us would sit in the living room drinking brandy and smoking. It was something out of Noel Coward, really. Chet was bright, he was a college drop-out as a matter-of-fact. School bored him and he wanted to see the world and have all sorts of experiences before he settled down. Well, he was having all sorts of experiences with me. We did everything you could think of doing in bed.
"I worked out all kinds of positions with the boy. Once he sat on a chair and I straddled him so that his penis would inject right into my vagina. Since my weight held him down it was up to me to create the proper sexual friction. I bounced up and down on his lap with his sex organ still attached until he had his climax.
"Other times we tried to avoid having him reach his climax in order to work out as many sexual positions as possible while he was still erected. We picked up this book on Indian sex positions and tried to see how many we could get into before he let loose. It was just a game, a very adult game. We sat facing one another with our sex organs coupled and that was one position. As soon as it was achieved we'd go into the next where he stood up and I wrapped my legs around his hips and worked his penis into me. We went through about a dozen positions before he couldn't hold back anymore and creamed me good.
"Chet stayed on another week. Gregory enjoyed talking to the boy as much as I enjoyed sleeping with him. My husband was so taken with Chet that he even offered him a job in his firm since the boy had been a pre-law student. Chet turned it down telling my husband that his interest was in criminal rather than corporation law. I tried to tell the boy what a great opportunity he was turning down but he wouldn't listen. He felt that he was young enough to spend a couple of years getting rid of all his wild oats. Well, he got rid of quite a few of them with me.
"After Chet left I avoided studs for a couple of months and tried to be happy with Gregory. The boys I had had gratified me to an extent where I was no longer hounded by this need for big, raging male organs.
"Poor Gregory. He did his best. He tried to satisfy me orally but he knew that I would not be content with that kind of activity for long. I did my best to make him happy since he had been doing so much for me and I fellated him almost every night. We tried to kid ourselves into believing that this would be enough for both of us but I finally had to tell him that I needed another young stud.
"The Exchange sent a big, broad shouldered seventeen year old who, like Sal, was not much on conversation. But, at least he didn't annoy my husband. He didn't exactly entertain him either and Gregory never invited him for brandy in the living room. The boy was a good work horse stud who knew how to use both his penis and his mouth on me. After going to bed with him for week that dreadful urge was out of me again and I slept with Gregory for awhile. As it works out I must have a young stud for seven days out each month. The rest of the time I can be content with my husband. Our pattern of life has formed. It is a pattern that must include young males. Since Gregory doesn't mind, I don't mind and the boys don't mind I am sure that my marriage will last. Perhaps, someday when this need is finally gone out of me for good, I can finally settle down with my husband."
CASE HISTORY: Laura, age 4l.
I had thought that the above case was strange until I interviewed Laura, a shapely, lively, attractive woman who looks younger than she really is. Laura and her husband, Otto, live in a ranch-style house in the mid-West. Otto is a highly successful dairy farmer who has also knows how to play the stock market. While Otto is the same age as his wife and virile looking he has problems satisfying her. The Youth Exchange was called for and Laura explains what happened next:
"This very cute boy of fifteen shows up at the house. His name is Albert and he has yellow, wavy hair and deep blue eyes. Of all the pictures of boys the Exchange had sent me he struck me as being the best looking. Albert gets nervous when he sees my husband but Otto puts him at ease by giving him the exact truth. 'I just do not have the sexual potency I once had,' he told the fifteen year old. 'Most men slow down when they reach forty but I've come to a dead stop almost. That's why we sent for you. You'll have to take over my husbandly duties for me. I just don't want my Laura to go around groping the ranch hands we have around here."
"I nudged my husband in the ribs and he said, 'Laura, this is the truth. An, isn't that the thing that is supposed to make us free?'
"That was Otto. He was always coming up with cracks like that. I suppose he has what you'd call a dry sense of humor but he always said things that went over my head like a flock of birds.
"The boy is shy and he blushes a lot. He has the kind of very fair skin that make blushes show up. It turns out that he had only been on one other assignment for the Youth Exchange before so this meant he was fresh stuff. When I tried to get him to talk about himself the boy clamed up. I guess he thought we'd tell his parents or the police about him.
"Anyhow, I'm newer at this game than he is and I don't know what move to make next. Otto sees how confused I am and says, 'Oh, take the boy to bed with you, Laura. Don't waste his time."
"I took the boy by the hand and led him into the bedroom. Once the door was closed the boy slips his hands over my buttocks and squeezes them. 'You're a lot better looking than the one I had before.' he told me.
"What was she like?"
"'Fat. Ugly,' he said. 'I didn't like her at all but she liked me."
"'And, do you find me fat and ugly, Albert?'
"He shoved his husky body into me. 'Oh, no, lady! I'd bang you just for the fun of it!'
"'That's the nicest compliment I've ever had. You've made my day. Now I hope you can make my night."
"I took off my dress and slip. I sat down on the bed and undid one of my garters. The fifteen year old blond boy reached for my legs. 'Let me do that,' he said.
"Albert undid my garters carefully and rolled my stockings down. When he did he kissed my thighs. 'So round and full,' he sighed.
"I know when someone is putting on an act or not and this kid really means it. Otto could take love lessons from this fifteen year old stud. The boy takes off my bra and kisses my breasts. While my breasts aren't large they are very firm and high. My nipples are out-sized and they are sticking up and out like a couple of baby-sized penises. Albert takes them into his mouth one by one and sucks them good and hard. I take his blond head in my hands and pet him.
"Albert has me stand up so he can pull down my panties. When he does he kisses my vagina and runs his tongue in and out of it a few times. He hasn't even taken a stitch off and yet he has me vibrating. The boy strips and shows me a good, muscular body. He's so pretty that I never would have thought that he had such a sturdy physique. Not only that he has a penis on him that is at least as large as my husband's and much harder. I can see it throbbing from where I stand.
"The fifteen year old hugs me and invades me while we're still standing. This, alone, is something special for me. Otto just did it in bed. The young boy starts to pump and he grabs my butts hard as he does. I grab his butts hard, too, and we crush our bodies together while he takes me. His climax comes in a rush. He stops banging me and we hold each other tight while he pours out his love.
"Albert softens and his penis leaves my body. I kneel in front of him and give it my mouth. I fellate him until he hardens and then spews once more. Only then do we go to bed where we kiss and explore each other's body.
"We leave the bedroom two hours later and Otto is sitting besides the bar waiting for us. 'Well, you two were in there long enough. How did it go?' he asks.
"'Wonderfully,' I tell him. 'Albert sure packs a wallop."
"Otto pats the boy on the back. 'Well, quite the man, huh?' he said. 'Let's see just what you got'
"My husband puts his hand over the boy's crotch and zips his trousers down. He reaches in and takes out Albert's sex organ and weighs it in his hand. 'llmmmm, nice!' he says. 'I'd like a piece of this myself."
"Now, all the time I've known my husband I've never heard him make a queer crack like that. I don't know if he'd kidding or not. But, he did handle the boy's penis in front of me and males, normal males, don't act like that.
"We have diner, the three of us, look at some television and have some drinks. The fifteen year old only takes ginger ale saying that he had gotten drunk once and has hated liquor ever since. 'Well, let's all go to bed,' Otto yawns.
"For the first time I realize that we hadn't made sleeping arrangements. I had planned to sleep with the boy and I asked Otto where he was planning to sack out.
"'Why, with you two, of course,' he says. 'Two is company and so is three as far as I'm concerned."
"The three of us strip down and climb into bed. Otto insists that the boy be between us. 'I want to see both of you in action,' he says. 'Here, I'll get the show on the road first."
"With that Otto takes the fifteen year old boy's penis in his hand and starts to manipulate it to get it hard. When the boy becomes erected he rolls over on top of me and shoves himself inside my body. I could see my husband sitting up and leering down at us. He puts his hands on the boy's body and kisses his buttocks. Now I could see why he was semi-impotent ... He was queer!
"The boy doesn't seem to be disturbed by what my husband is doing to him except that he blushes .When he releases himself and becomes blushes. When he releases himself and becomes penis between his butts. I can see it getting harder and harder. When he tries to sodomize Albert the boy tells him that he can't take a full grown man in the rear because his opening is too small. My husband kisses his cheek and says, 'That's all right honey. We'll make it some other time.' And then my husband releases himself between the young boy's butts. He had found his virility through use of another male!
"When Albert rolls off me I'm about to fellate the lad but my husband beats me to his sex organ. I lay on my side watching Otto perform the oral act upon the youngster and obviously enjoying it. He becomes erected again. It was rare for Otto to get that way twice in one night. I want to keep him hot so I slip down. As I do I feel a mouth on my vagina. The boy is performing an oral act upon me. And so the three of us form a triangle of passion as we make oral love to one another's sex organ. My husband has a good climax. He pours out like a much younger man. His impotency was over. The cure, no doubt, was letting himself enjoy his homosexual side.
"Otto told me later that he had always wanted to make love to boys and that was why he had so readily agreed to taking young studs into our home. He wanted to get at them himself. 'I hope you don't think so terribly of me, Laura,' he said.
"I kissed his lips. 'Darling, if playing both sides of the street makes you happy you go right ahead and play your head off."
"I just wonder how many women find out that their husbands are queer later on in their marriage. Well, Otto isn't completley queer. He's bi-sexual. He digs women but he also wants boys. The trouble with him started when he could not find outlet for his homosexuality. Now that he found it he became virile once more.
"I was surprised to see how quickly the young boy took to homosexuality. He finally admits that he had been a prostitute to males before he had turned to females. A boy with his looks was bound to be accosted by men. I just hoped that he wasn't going to be a hundred percent queer all his life. Good men are hard enough to find without other men grabbing them off.
"Between my husband and me the fifteen year old blond boy gets a workout. Actually my husband has him more times than I do. I let him because I know that, the more homosexuality Otto has, the more heterosexuality he will be capable of. It sounds kind of weird but that's how it turned out in our case.
"Otto has the boy mount him. The boy has sodomized men before-I could see-and he gives my husband a good time. Otto keeps trying to do the same to him but the boy insists that he finds the anal act too painful. He had had bad experiences with men who had taken him brutally when he had hustled them.
"'I'll be easy with you, honey,' my husband told him and applied cold cream to the boy's rear. Otto sure did find his sexual power again, that was obvious.
"My husband slipped into the boy slowly. Then he raised up and pumped down again. Otto kept pumping until his release came and he sighed. 'That wasn't so bad now, was it darling?' he said to the boy.
"Albert groaned. 'No ... it wasn't bad at all."
"I get the next crack at the kid and I have him slip into the front part of my body and not the back. Sex with Otto had made me hot and raring to go. He rams me so fast I think the bed will break. He spills over and we hold each other close. My husband makes it a threesome by pressing in behind the boy.
"Otto performs well in bed even after Albert leaves. Now that he has revealed his deep, dark secret his inhibitions are all gone. He knows that I don't care how queer he is as long as I get my share of the goodies.
"The Youth Exchange calls us shortly after Albert has returned to Los Angeles and they tell us that it will cost us extra since both of us had used the same boy. We don't want to argue the point. We want to have other boys. When we agree to pay they promise to send us out only the boys who are two-way swingers just so there won't be any complications with a straight kid. We had been lucky with Albert because the boy had serviced men before.
"I let Otto select the next boy from the pictures the exchange sends us since he'll have sex with him, too. He picks out a thirteen year old with the face of an angel. Kenny turns out to be a doll of a boy who is more gay than straight so my husband is out of his skull with the kid. Kenny has a slim figure and just a so-so sex organ but Otto loves him. He is too small to be sodomized and my husband is not so cruel as to try to force it on him. I want to see what all this anal intercourse is about and I have the young boy slip himself between my butts. As he's sodomizing me my husband is attending the boy's rear. The boy has a climax and I can't see why men like it this way so. When I tell this to Otto he tells me that I need a man-sized sex organ inside me to judge first. He mounts my butts for the first time in our married life. Since it had been hard enough to get him to do me in the front we had never bothered with this Greek love-making. Now my newly virile hubby now has sex to spare.
"As soon as Otto touches me with his thing I tell him to stop because it hurts so. He had gotten into the fifteen year old easily enough and now I could not see how the boy had been able to stand it. Otto applies cold cream as he had with the boy and tries again. This time he slipped into me gently and I discover a new sex sensation. I get so hot and bothered that I grab the thirteen year old who has been watching all this time and fellate him. The boy sits on the pillow in front of me with his legs spread while Otto pumps me in the Greek way. His face is also close to the boy's penis. I push my head away while my husband leans over and makes oral love to the thirteen year old child. Otto's flesh inside me suddenly swells and hardens a bit more as he does. It is as if the virility he is taking from the boy is running right through his body and into me. This was about the sexiest experience I've ever had. I'm looking forward to having more of them."
How many of the boys in the Youth Exchange are bi-sexual? From my findings I can say that the large majority of them have had homosexual experiences before and are willing to sell themselves to males as well as females. Only few of the boys draw the line at having any contact with men at all although they will perform every kind of erotic act with women. These boys are in the minority. When youthful and good looking males roam about the country they eventually become targets of homosexuals who are willing enough to pay for their services. Boys in their teens are anxious for sexual experience and they comply quickly enough finding the contact both financially and erotically rewarding. Young Albert who had drifted into the lives of Laura and Otto is fairly typical of an attractive boy who has been introduced into homosexuality early in his wandering career. He found that he could make life easy for himself by simply allowing men to use his beautiful body. Since there are few jobs open to very young hobos prostitution becomes a way of life for them. The sex of the buyer is unimportant. Some of these boys who have engaged in homosexuality over an extended period of time become fixed in this form of behavior. The thirteen year old boy the married couple shared is an example of this. Even though Laura is an attractive and shapely female the boy preferred her husband. But, because Laura could see that this affection the boy had for her husband was increasing his virility, she did not mind being second choice.
CHAPTER FIVE
INTER-RACIAL AFFAIRS
Negroes represent about fifteen percent of our country's population. While there are Negroes, males and females, in the Youth Exchange they make up only about ten percent of the club with far more young males than older females predominating. There are very few mature Negro women applying for young studs, white or black. The Youth Exchange does not have a racial policy. The club takes money from anyone no matter what color they are.
It is unusual enough for an older woman to make love to a much younger male but it is even more unique when this boy is of another race. To some women inter-racial sex stimulates their erotic leanings. Forbidden fruits are always sweeter and inter-racial love making is still largely forbidden in this country.
In going over my list of women who preferred boys of another color I've found that most were centered in the Deep South. Here interracial love was considered even more forbidding and this, it seemed, made the women desire it all the more. The following is a typical example:
CASE HISTORY: Nancy, age 45.
This subject had once been married but her husband had taken the "poor man's divorce" of just picking up and leaving one day. Nancy is a large, raw-boned woman with red hair and sunburnt skin. She is attractive in an earthy, animalistic sort of way. Although she never went past grade school she has managed to make a a good living for herself in selling farm equipment.
Nancy lives alone in a comfortable farmhouse. She has no use for servants or maids preferring to clean and cook herself as she had been doing long before she had become, in her district, wealthy. Her husband abandoned her when she was twenty-five letting her raise their four children alone. Nancy, like so many other deserted mothers, found the strength to hold her family together and raise them until they were old enough to marry and leave to start their own families.
Once the last of her children had left the big house Nancy was very lonely. She lost herself in work but she hated to return to the farmhouse that seemed so empty. Since her husband deserted her Nancy did not even look at another man but now she had the time and the inclination to enjoy sex again. At forty-five she was in no mood to give up the pleasures of love. Nancy ruled out another marriage. Her first husband had not divorced her legally and she did not want any legal complications. This left having affairs. She was hesitant about this, too, since she was well thought of in her community and her business depended on this feeling. Her problem was complicated by the fact that she could not dare have a man stay overnight at her place without causing scandal. But, when she discovered the Youth Exchange, her problems were solved. She often hired colored boys to do some heavy work around the house and it was not unusual for them to stay a week or so until this work was done. Nancy did not consider making a sexual proposition to any of the black boys who worked for her because that would cause the greatest scandal of all. But, boys from the outside, hired just for their sexual skills would not spread any gossip about her.
Nancy did not share the anti-Negro attitudes of many of her neighbors. She had grown up with blacks and knew that they were no different from any other race. She made her feelings known to the Youth Exchange and they sent a husky sixteen year old colored boy named William. No one took notice of the boy as he was picked up by Nancy at the bus stop. To the local people he was just another worker she had hired. What happened afterwards are told in Nancy's own words:
"William was a nice looking boy, soft-spoken and polite. He was a Southerner, too, and he had left his state to find better opportunity in California. What he found was the Youth Exchange that sent him out on assignments to make love to white women who wanted black studs. This really shook him up because he had been always told not to even look at a white female the wrong way or he'd had his balls cut of by the K.K.K. He was sure nervous when he came to the farmhouse with me. He was afraid that it was all some trick to lure him just so some white men could caster-ate him.
"Once the boy saw that I lived alone he began to breath easier. I told William to shower up first and I'd make us a meal. The black boy comes into the kitchen wearing nothing but a tight pair of jeans. He has a beautiful body and there isn't an ounce of fat on him. I get all heated up just looking at this stud. The last sex I had had was over twenty years ago when my damned husband gave me one last screw before he took off for parts unknown.
"I can see that William wants me as much as I want him. He keeps glancing at me and rubbing his crotch. 'You like black boys?' he asked me.
"I told him I've never had one and explained why I could only bring a black boy into the house. He grinned showing me his white, shiny teeth. 'I'll give you enough love to make you forget about having white men,' he said.
""And do you like white women?' I asked him.
"'Yeah,' he answered. 'I sure do love that white meat. I'd like to do it to you now right here on the kitchen floor."
"'We'll be more comfortable upstairs in my bedroom,' I told him.
"As we go upstairs William slips his hand around my waist. In all my forty five years in the South I had never allowed a black to become this intimate. His touch thrills me. Having sex with a sixteen year old stud after so long was exciting enough but having it with a black was even more so. I was just dying to get his meat in my hands ... and in every other part of me.
"Once we get inside the bedroom William strips off his jeans. His penis is standing straight up like a black ear of corn and it's just as big and as round. I take off my clothes and I can hear the boy breathing hard as he watched me get naked. When I'm as naked as he is I face him, the
"irst time I had been like this with a male for close to half a lifetime. William comes over to me and takes my breasts in his hands. My red nipples are hard and pointy. 'Man, oh, man, oh, man, oh, man!" he sighs. Suddenly he slips his hands over my butts and pushes me down on the bed with him on top of me. He shoves his big, black pecker into me at once and starts to fuck real good. I'm so anxious that I push up against him as he pushes down. Oh, how good it all felt after so long!
"William keeps banging away until he shoots. I wrap my arms and legs around him as he drains himself into my body. Now we're both breathing so hard with excitement that we sound like an old cow giving birth.
"The black boy presses his thick lips against mine. He holds my face between his hands and shoves his tongue into my mouth. I push my tongue up against his and we wet-kiss for awhile. The boy then whispers into my ear: 'Want to do it the other way, baby?'
"I tell him, of course, I don't draw the line at anything.
"'Do you want to do it together!' he asks.
"I tell him to cart that wonderful dark meat up to my face. The boy turns around on the bed and kneels just above my head. It is soft and hanging long. I reach up and grab his behind. William brings his stuff down to my mouth. I used to do this with my husband all the time even though my church says it's some kind of terrible sin. How can anything so good be so bad?
"While I'm doing it with my mouth the black boy is doing the same to me with his mouth. He's real hot. He hurts me with his teeth but I don't complain. For twenty years my thing went without any kind of feeling and now I wanted to make up for that.
"The boy is a great stud. His thing swells up quickly again until it's an ear of black corn once again. I can't take him entirely but I sure as hell try. The boy shoots again and I drain him dry. William keeps hanging on to me and making me with his mouth long after his meat has shrunk. He just loves my body. I keep working on the boy until he finally lifts his body off me. His face is damp and shiny. His teeth look very white when he smiles. 'Baby,' he says, 'I'd be willing to pay you!"
"We sleep together that night both too worn out to make any more love. In the morning I'm awakened by something pushing into my rear. I have some wild dream about a snake and I scream. William is beside me with his flesh in my rear end. 'I didn't mean to hurt you,' he said. 'When I saw that beautiful big, white behind of yours staring me in the face this morning I couldn't resist doing this. Some women don't take it this way, do you?'
"I lean back into him. 'I take it any way they come,' I answer.
"The sixteen year old black boy takes his time pushing into me and it ain't no picnic but I want him to hurt, I want to feel again. We're both on our sides with him behind me. As he pushes in he plays with my breasts and thing. The boy is so built that I have to tell him to stop before he is half inside. William grabs my hip and slams me in the rear until he shoots.
"I sure as hell don't feel like going to work but I have to. William doesn't put on his clothes and walks around the house with his long, black whip swinging back and forth. I tell him to be sure to stay away from the windows if he hears a car coming. All we needed was to have someone see a naked black buck walking around my house.
"As soon as work is over I pile into the bed with William and we love away. This boy just doesn't seem to stay dry for long. He shoots and shoots and shoots every time we get together. He takes me in all three openings every day for a week. By the time he is ready to go back to California he still seems primed for more love. I drive him to the bus stop from where he's to head for the airport. When the bus comes I want to kiss him but I know enough to control myself. William, an old Southern boy, also knows enough not to show me any kind of affection. We act like he had been just out to clean the house. 'Goodbye, ma'am',' he says in that humble, Uncle Tom way. 'Bye, boy,' I say. 'Take care of yourself hear?'
"The bus comes in and William gets on it. When it pulls away I feel like crying but I don't want any of those old men who hang around the bus stop know that I miss a black boy. If only they knew what we had been doing up at the farm...."
CASE HISTORY: Trudy, age 34.
The subject is one of the few mature colored women who belong to the Youth Exchange. Trudy is a rather dumpy, very dark Negro woman who is a head nurse in a big city hospital. She has never been married and lives alone in an apartment building close to her work.
Trudy was born in the Northern city where she now lives and works and has left it only on vacations. She makes a good salary although, compared to the majority of the women in the Youth Exchange, she is quite poor. Still, since young white boys is her only vice, she manages to live well and yet indulge herself.
Of all the women I've interviewed Trudy seemed to be the most anxious to talk. I had the feeling that she was unloading her long repressed feelings for the first time. Unlike Nancy who picked black boys simply because it was more convenient for her Trudy selected white boys out of a neurotic drive. Here are her own words:
"I know I could have the Exchange send black boys, too, but I don't want them. I have nothing against my own race. I'm proud of being black. I've made something of myself by becoming a head nurse in the hospital. Most of the girls under me are white and they don't resent taking orders from me. I've come a long way from a poor, ugly little black girl in the ghetto.
"I was one of eight children. My father worked himself to death trying to support us and my mother lasted a few years longer. By that time I was old enough to work and contribute to my family. I worked after school which didn't give me any social life. Even if I had the time I'd be too shy to date. Then, no boy asked me out, anyhow. I wasn't much on looks then, not that I've blossomed into a beauty now.
"The school I went to was intergrated long before all this Civil Rights business. I was one of the few colored kids going to school and I really stood out. The colored boys didn't last long in high school because they had to become the bread winners early or else they felt that it was no use getting an education if so many jobs would be closed to them because of their color. As a white man I don't think you can ever understand that fully. You just don't know about the defeat black boys feel the day they know they had been born with the wrong color.
"In my race women have more opportunities than men and that is why more colored girls are interested in getting an education than black boys. By time I was in my teens there was hardly a black boy at high school. Since I have all the natural feelings any other girl had I began to have crushes on the only boys available to me ... the whites.
"The white boys at school looked so beautiful to me with their pale skin, their blue eyes, their fine features, their light hair. Some of them liked colored girls but these chicks were very pretty. Me, I was as black as coal and had the shape of a sack of potatoes. How I ached to have a white boy put his arm around me and kiss me. I got a giant-sized crush on a blond boy who was the prettiest thing I ever saw. If he asked me to carry his books home I would have. It wasn't long before the boys and girls at school knew how I felt towards this boy and they used to draw big hearts on the blackboard with our names in the middle.
"When this blond boy found out about my crush on him he was the last to know. I didn't even exist as far as he was concerned. But, one day he stopped me in the hall and said: 'Trudy, would you want to go to the movies with me Saturday?'
"My heart jumped up in my throat. 'Yes,' I managed to answer with a very weak voice. This was the first time that a boy, white or black, had ever shown any interest in me.
"'Well,' the boy said, 'meet me in front of the movie house because I'm afraid to go into your neighborhood."
"I felt insulted by his remark but I couldn't turn down my first date for a little thing like my hurt feelings. That Saturday I waited outside the movie house at the time he told me to. Ten minutes went by. Fifteen. A half an hour.
An hour. Then, an hour and a half later I stood there in the broiling sun a car drove by and a bunch of white boys and girls looked at me and laughed. One of the boys was the blond who had 'dated' me. The whole thing had been a joke.
"I hated going back to school on Monday because I knew the teasing I was in for. I had been dumb enough to wait for a white boy who had no intention of showing up. On Monday, as I feared, the blackboards in school were filled with hearts with notations stating how much I was in love with this blond boy.
"I wanted to drop out of school in sheer shame but I hung on until I got my diploma. From there I went to nursing school. I wanted to get away from the slums as much as possible. Now I have. I live in a middle-class white neighborhood and people call me 'Miss' instead of just 'Trudy' or 'girl'.
"Yet my station in life was not achieved without price. To get to where I am I had to give up love. When other girls at the nursing home had dates I was putting in extra hours at the hospital. That was how I became head nurse while still pretty young. If I stick to it I can go still further. But, at the age of thirty-four, I've decided to grab what passion I could.
"When I heard about the Youth Exchange I immediately thought about that blond boy who had stood me up as a joke so long ago. I could have a blond boy just his age just by spending some money. I could make him do what I wanted.
"I looked over the list the Exchange sent me and I picked a boy who resembled that blond boy as close as possible. A fifteen year old boy named Mark with blond hair showed up at my place and I had to get my breath because he looked so much like that boy in high school. And, perhaps, it was just my mind playing tricks. Yet I could not help but think that this was my movie 'date' coming to pick me up at last ... after two decades of waiting.
"'Are you surprised that I'm black?' I asked Mark.
"'No,' he answered, 'the Exchange told me."
""And, you don't mind?'
"The blond boy shrugged. 'Why should I mind? Black or white, it's all the same to me."
"I didn't like his attitude. I wanted him to be shocked by my color. I wanted to rub his nose into it. But, what could I expect from a boy whore?
"Mark aroused conflicting passions inside me. I loved him for his youth and looks and yet hated him for the same reasons. As a young, beautiful blond boy he could have his choice of people. Men and women no doubt had found him attractive and had gone out of their way to please me, a homely black girl from the slums.
"The idea that this boy was now mine to do with as I pleased brought out the bitch in me. I sat myself down in a chair and became overbearing. I snapped my fingers. 'Take off your clothes, white boy, and let me see what I've bought."
"He didn't bat an eyelash when I said this and it made me angry. I just had to hurt him somehow. Mark took of his clothes and showed me his pale, white body. He had a very good figure and he was hairless except for a patch of golden curls over his penis. He was not sexually aroused and I wondered if it was my looks and color that had made him unexcited. 'Turn around, boy,' I said like a slave buyer to a slave.
"Mark turned around and showed me his rear. His buttocks were girlishly attractive with deep dimples over each butt. Why, his body looked more feminine than mine. I told him to help me out of my clothes and Mark seemed to be an expert at undressing females. He was only fifteen but I could see that he had been around. When he takes my bra off my big, black breasts are exposed and his milk-white penis reacts. It begins to swell and lengthen and then curve upward against his body. He isn't especially well-endowed but he has enough to give me satisfaction. I wasn't a virgin when I had him. When I say I had given up love for a career I meant any lasting and meaningful relationship. I met a colored boy at the hospital who moved in with me for a few months several years ago. I dropped him when he wanted me to get him some drugs. He was the kind of a man who leaned on women and expected them to support him. I suppose he thought he had done me a great favor in allowing him into my apartment and my bed. And, the sad part of it all is, it was true. He wasn't much but he was better than nothing.
"Anyhow, this white boy wasn't going to be my first. He was only going to be my first white. Mark took off all my clothes carefully and I stretched out on the bed. He lay next to me and licked my breasts. Men usually found them attractive. They are really my only good feature. I have a bust measurement of thirty-eight which looks even larger since I'm not tall. My breasts are hard and perfectly shaped with dark brown nipples the size of silver dollars. The white boy can't keep his hands and mouth off of them and I look at how pale his naked body is against my blackness. I suppose if I had these breasts when I was a kid that white boy would not have been so quick to turn me down.
"Mark rubs his erected part against my leg as he nurses on one of my big nipples. Somehow I just can't resist calling him a baby. 'Come on,' I told him, 'knock off that infant stuff and show me that you're a man."
"For the first time I can see I've hurt him. 'I just thought you'd enjoy a little fore-play first,' he said. 'All the other women had."
"I'm not like any other woman,' I said. 'I want a man to be a man."
"'Then why did you send for me? I'm only fiteen?' Mark says getting angry.
"It pleases me to see this pretty blond boy smarting. 'Be nice to me, white boy,' I told him, 'or I'll send you back to L.A. with a bad report."
"The Youth Exchange wanted to know all the complaints women had against the boys. They did not want their business ruined by a lousy stud. My threat brings Mark up quick. He knows he'll have to put out to please me.
"The young boy gets on top of me and rams into my body. He thrusts rapidly and well. I don't have much experience in sex but I know that this boy is good. He holds back and keeps thrusting until, despite myself, I'm aroused. I lift my knees up and clamp the boy's pale, moving hips between my black thighs. My nipples are so stiff with excitement that I can hear them scraping against his skin as he moves. Then Mark releases himself and I find that I am at a peak of sexuality, too.
"The young boy slips of me and on to the bed. He seems pleased with himself. He has a right to be because he did turn in one fine performance. But I just don't want to give him the idea that he had been so good. 'Kind of pooped out, aren't you?' I ask.
"The kid is shocked. 'Pooped out? I've had four days rest before I came here. I'm in good shape,'
"I kneel on the bed and grab his penis which is now limp. 'A black boy your age would still be going now,' I said. It was a lie, of course, but I just had to bug him.
"'No woman has ever complained about me before,' he said. 'Maybe you're just over-sexed."
"I'm glad that I've caused the young boy to doubt his virility and he was angry. The more annoyed he is the better I feel. I straddle his body with my knees on either side of his waist. My hairy vagina is only inches from his pretty pale face. I rub it and say, 'Let me see how good you are at Frenching."
"Although the boy is obviously crazy about my breasts he doesn't seem to care for my sex part. With my chunky figure I can't blame him. Still, a job is a job and he slips down the bed between my parted legs until he reaches my vagina He puts his hands on my hips and presses his mouth against me. As he performs cunnilingus I bring my legs together to capture his face and then press down on him with my body. The young white boy struggles for breath and he pushes me away. 'Are you trying to smother me?' he snaps.
"'If you can't take adult love then quit the business' I tell him.
"'Look,' he yells, 'you've been knocking me ever since I came. I'm doing my best and, if it isn't good enough, I'm sorry!'
"I can see where I've pushed him a bit too far so I pull back and act sweet. This time I take him orally and fellate him until he releases. We sleep in each other's arms that night and I keep having the idea that I'm with that other blond boy of so long ago. When I fall asleep I even dream about him. I dream that I am waiting next to that movie house in the hot sun only, this time, he comes to me stark naked with his penis in a full state of erection. I reach out for it and grab tightly. When I wake up I find that I have my hand on the boy's organ and it is stiff with passion. He is still asleep so I lay on him and wake him up by fucking him.
"Mark embraces me and I kept pumping down on him until his climax comes. He is really a very cute boy and I wish I didn't have the urge to hurt him. Sure, I know I was taking out that pain I had felt so many years ago on him. And, perhaps it was better that I did. It was an improvement over going to a psychiatrist and much more fun.
"I tell the white boy that I want to spank him because I got my kicks that way. He doesn't say a word and lays over my lap with his white behind up. I slap his butts hard with my open palm and he complains. 'Take it easy,' he tells me.
"'When I spank I spank for good,' I answer and really let him have it. He squirms under me while his fanny gets redder and redder. I know that men pay women to let them do this same thing so I don't think I'm being all that weird. When my arm is tired I let the boy up and he walks away quickly into the bathroom with his rear showing brightly against the rest of his body. He locks the bathroom door just to keep me out. I know that he is in there debating with himself whether or not to stick it out with me. I am sure that when a boy leaves a woman he is out of the Youth Exchange.
"Mark decided to stay on with me. He accepted me as a sadist which, to some extent at least, I am. I hurt him in other ways. I have him wait for me for hours even though he could be at the apartment watching television or something. I couldn't resist arranging for him to wait for me in front of a movie just so I could show up two hours late. Unfortunately it isn't the same movie house I had been stood up in front of because that had been torn down years ago to put up an apartment house.
"The white boy knows I'm torturing him and is smart enough not to fight back. He intends to take all I can dish out and then leave as soon as his time is up. Now I don't want him to have too bad an opinion of me because the Youth Exchange drops women who seem just too disturbed. With the kind of business they run they can't expect the women to be examples of mental health.
"On the last couple of days the boy is with me I go easy on him. I bathe him, massage him, and love his entire body from head to toe. Mark is overcome with this sudden surge of passion towards him. I allow him to have my breasts to love and he nurses on me for a half hour before we both fall asleep.
"By the time Mark is ready to leave I can see that his opinion of me has been softened although he still thinks of me as a psycho. I see him off on his jet and return back to my apartment. Obviously the Youth Exchange doesn't mind my petty sadisms since they keep sending me pictures of more and more young white boys.
"I've had three more white boys after Mark. All of them were the same age, fifteen. I just can't get over this mad passion I have for young blond white boys of fifteen. That was the age of the boy in school who had played that joke on me. One of these days, I guess, the hate will have burnt out of my system and I will be able to enjoy boys without having to hurt them."
Not all women are as honest as Trudy is in her reasons for wanting boys of another color. The most neurotic females I've interview were white women who had sexual interests in black boys. There was a self-destructive element in them as if they were daring society to destroy them for their desires. It was also common amongst these women to mention the fact that they knew that their families would "die" if they heard that they were having sex relations with Negro males. The word "die" is very revealing. It shows a desire to kill their families. Today it is hardly a rare sight to see a white girl walking down the street with a black boy. These girls usually come from middle-class families where inter-racial affairs were frowned upon. This was their way of flaunting their rebellion, of establishing their independence by trying to kill the old life and the old morality. But, these girls grow up eventually, and come to realize that their inter-racial affairs and only been youthful acts of rebelion.
The white women I interviewed were mature and far beyond their youthful rebellion days yet they were acting in the same fashion as were their much younger counterparts. Each one of them as if they were all now enjoying the youthful rebellion they had missed. Nancy, the woman in the first case, is the only exception I've found to this rule. She was the only one I've found who was stable and truely mature. Although her case is not typical of the white women who desire young black boys I've included her story in this study because it was the most warmly human.
CHAPTER SIX
THE BOYS
It was my wish to interview the actual owners of the Youth Exchange to get a full picture of their operation but I was discouraged by them at every move. They fear publicity and resented the fact that I was doing a book on their most unique club. Now and then I received threats anonymously over the phone but I ignored them all. Once I started interviewing the club members news of my activity had, no doubt, reached them. I was well along in my interviews when the Youth Exchange finally caught up with me via the phone. After ignoring the first threat I blandly expressed a desire to interview the caller. The phone was immedately hung up.
The Youth Exchange did manage to discourage some of its members from talking to me by sending out notices that a "detective" in the guise of a free lance writer was trying to get information. This play backfired when a dozen or so members quit, fearing that the club was at the brink of being discovered. From then on I was not bothered by any more midnight phone calls.
But I did manage to find out the inner workings of the Youth Exchange through the boys I came in contact with when I interviewed the women they were servicing. Most of the time I found the women I talked to between boys but, every now and then, I would find a boy who had been sent by the Exchange with the mature female I had gone to interview. When this happened I used the opportunity to talk to the boys. The majority of them stated frankly that they had been instructed not to talk to me or anyone else outside the Youth Exchange. However, I did find a few boys who were willing to talk to me about how they became a part of a nation-wide sex club that offered very young boys to mature women.
CASE HISTORY: Harry, age 17.
The subject is a very handsome boy with a good physique. I met him at the apartment of a fifty year old widow who claimed she was worth a half a million dollars. Her apartment seemed to support her claim since it was expensively furnished and in the richest part of the city.
After I had interviewed the woman I turned to the boy who had been listening all the time and asked him to talk. Harry smiled and informed me that the Youth Exchange had warned him about me but, convinced that I was just a writer and not a detective, he agreed to speak into the tape recorder.
"I suppose you want to know about my past, not that I can have much of a past at the age of seventeen. Well, I have no sob story to give. I was brought up in a nice house with nice parents in a nice town. I was getting ready to go to college and prepare myself to get into business or a profession and eventually marry a nice girl and have a nice house in a nice town and become a nice parent. But, at the age of sixteen, I felt that there had to be more to life than becoming a carbon copy of my father so I just packed a bag, took a couple of hundred out of my bank account and left leaving a note on my pillow just like it's done in the movies. I told my parents that I just had to stop my feet from itching before I was ready to settle down.
"I had no plan but I headed West. In the first big city I came to I took a job washing dishes in a greasy spoon for forty bucks a week. I lived in a crummy flea bag hotel that took twenty of those forty dollars each and every week and I had the greatest urge to turn around and go home.
"At the hotel there was a fag who was always after me. I avoided him until he said he'd give me twenty bucks if I spent the night with him. Hell, that was a week's rent right there so I agreed. I went with him to his room which was not much better than mine and, as soon as he locked the door, he groped for my rod and kissed me. I didn't mind him feeling me up but I couldn't stand his fruity lips on mine.
"We took off our clothes and, even though I've never had queer relations before, I've got an erection. I guess when you're sixteen any kind of sex will make you hot. The fag pulls on me and gets to his knees. He mouths me and I let loose. Then he asks me to do the same to him. I've known guys who have hustled queers before and they only let the queers do them and not the other way around. I tell the guy I don't swing that way. 'Well,' he says, 'we have the whole night together and I'll expect my twenty dollars worth."
"I guess I gave him his twenty dollars worth. He does it to me in the can and I do it to him the same way. I keep hoping he'll fall off to sleep but he stays awake half the night complaining that all he wanted was five minutes of my time to go down on him. He gets on my nerves so much that I decide to mouth his penis and get it over with.
"I guess we're all a little queer. If I wasn't I wouldn't have gone to the room with the fag in the first place. Anyhow, making oral love to him wasn't as bad as I had thought. When he shoots into me, though, I spit out. The fag doesn't mind because he knows that he has just had my oral 'cherry' and this makes him happy.
"The fag tells me he can line up other homos for me if I want to make a living at sex. At twenty bucks a night I'm not ready to turn him down. So, I become a whore to queers at the age of sixteen. One of them falls in love with me and takes me to California. I become his mistress, if that's the word I can use, and we live together in a three room apartment facing the ocean. I don't have to do any work at all except making the queer scene. One night this guy brings in a new boy and tells me that I'll have to move my ass out. He's grown tired of me. When you hustle you have to expect that. I don't kick because I know a few other fags willing to take me in.
"By the time I turn seventeen I've had about fifty or sixty guys and I'm driving around in a sportscar I've paid cash for. I'm one of the busiest queer hustlers in California until I get busted. The cops raid a fag party I'm at and I have an arrest record. My parents find out about it and they wash their hands of me saying that since I was no longer a man, I could no longer be their son. Nice people. Well, I can't kick. I was bound to run into the law sometimes.
"Since it's my first arrest I get a suspended sentence. As I'm walking out of the court this guy follows me. I had seen him sitting in the spectator section before and I figured that, since he knew I hustled, he wanted to make a deal. I sure as hell wasn't going to hustle again just after I got out of court. The next time I'd be sent to jail.
"The guy catches up to me and strikes up a conversation. He invites me to have coffee and cake with him at a nearby cafeteria and I ask him point-blank just what is his game.
"'You're a very good looking young boy and ... ' he begins
"'Hold it!' I shout out loud on the street. 'I know what you want and the answer is no!'
"The guy is a fast, smooth talker. He admits that he was hanging out in that courtroom just to pick up good looking young boys who were at loose ends and who didn't mind selling their bodies. He claims that he recruits for the Youth Exchange that supplies boys to older women. He offers me a job.
"I think he's crazy. I've never heard of older women buying young boys. 'You must mean older mew,' I tell him.
"'Well, if you're not interested in women at all then I can't use you. I find that most of you fag hustlers are straight but a few of you are just as gay as the guys you bed down with,' he tells me and starts to walk away.
"I can't let that slide by. I stop him and say, 'I'm no queer. I just hustle for money. I like women. If you really have women willing to buy boys I'm ready."
"He grins. 'These women aren't young and beautiful,' he says. 'Some of them are old enough to be your grandmother. Not every kid can make it with them."
"'I can."
" " 'We'll see,' he says. 'We'll test you out first."
"He takes me to his car which is brand new and worth five G's easy. I keep thinking that he's going to turn out to be just another queer with a phony line. He drives out to a house in L.A. and introduces me to a gray-haired woman of about fifty-five or so. Her name is Paula and she runs the Youth Exchange. I look around the place and it looks like an ordinary house to me except there are two other women a little younger than she is opening letters and talking on the telephone.
"'This is the headquarters of a very special club,' Paula says. 'Older women, such as myself, find a need to be loved by young boys, such as yourself. My job is to bring you together."
"I'm starting to believe it all. When I ask just how much I can make she smiles and tells me that depends on how good I am. She calls one of the younger women over. She is in her late forties but dresses in a much younger way with skin-tight leotards and a blouse cut so low you can see the tops of her breasts. 'Norma,' the gray-haired woman says, 'take Harry here and see how good he is. He's been making it with men so far and I don't know if he can do the same to women."
"Norma pats my cheek and leads me into a bedroom on the next floor. She tells me to strip down so she can examine me. I take off my clothes and this older woman plays around with my body. I develop an erection and she watches until I'm fully aroused. She plays her hand over me. 'Nothing special but you have enough there to make our ladies happy,' she tells me. 'And I'm the first lady you'll have to please."
"Even though I've had plenty of men I'm still cherry in straight sex. I hope I don't foul up because, so far, it looked as if I had fallen into a great deal: being paid to screw!
"The woman takes off her blouse and I can see that she is wearing a very small bra even though she has a nice set of boobs. She peels off her leotards and she has a very small set of black panties on. Her underwear looks like a bikini. Norma takes off her bra and she has huge nipples that look like tea saucers. Then she takes off her panties and I notice that she isn't a natural blonde. 'All right, honey,' she says opening her arms, 'let me see you in action."
"When I go over to her she backs down on the bed with her arms still open. I fall into them and shove my meat right into her opening. It is very loose and wide so I sink in to the hilt. She sure as hell must have had a lot of guys. I begin to screw her. What the hell was there to sex, anyhow? I hadn't been queer when I took on that fruit at the fleabag hotel and I managed to do all right. Straight sex can't be that much different.
"I feel her nipples getting harder under my chest as I pump. I was exciting her, I understood that much. I make my strokes as long and as hard as possible without pulling my penis out of her body. When I screwed guys I had done the same thing. I wait until I can hold back no more and spill like crazy. Norma moans and pats my back as I pour out. I rest on top of her until I'm empty.
"'That was all right, honey,' she tells me
'Now let's see how you talk in French."
"I knew what she meant because the fags I've hustled used the same term. I put my mouth against her opening and it felt strange since I was used to having a long, tube of flesh here. Now there was this furry slit. I chew, lick and run my tongue into her as far as I could. I don't know if I'm pleasing her or not for awhile but then I hear her moaning and groaning with pleasure. I keep this up for what must be fifteen or twenty minutes before she says, 'Now to talk Greek, honey."
"Well, I've Greeked a lot of guys before so this experience wasn't going to be unusual. Norma rolls over on her belly with her behind up. Her buttocks are large, wide, smooth and a lot better looking than a man's can. 'Use vaseline,' she tells me. 'It's on the table."
"I get up and rub vaseline all over my penis. At the same time I pull to make it hard. I can't fail the test now. I finger out a gob of vaseline and poke it into her opening just as I've done so many times before with men. I place my body on top of hers and slip my stiffened flesh between her butt halves until I reach that spot. I know that a lot of men find it hard to take sex this way so I was sure that I would hurt this woman. Anyhow, I push on and begin to sink into her. Norma gives me those moans again. At least I'm pleasing her ... I hope.
"When I go in as far as I can I pump until I spill once more. Since I hadn't much rest after that first time I was glad to see that I did manage to show virility. I lay on her until I get limp and then pull out. I wait for her next order.
"Norma grabs my rod and gives it a stiff yank. 'You got it, boy!' she tells me.
"What I got was a job. My picture is taken for some sheets of paper the Exchange sends out to the club members and I'm allowed to stay at the house for the night. The gray-haired woman named Paula who owns the organization tells me that she does not make a habit out of keeping boys on the premises in order not to arouse suspicion. But, she was going to arrange other quarters for me.
"The next day I'm sent to a small hotel in Santa Monica where there are a dozen other boys my age who belong to the Youth Exchange. We are all told not to have any sex outside of our assignments. No boy is sent out to a woman who hasn't had at least three days rest before. That first sex experience with a club member was very important and the women did not want someone who was already drained. Drinking and drug-taking were also ruled out. The Exchange wanted fresh, young, healthy studs.
"I find out that the other boys had led much the same kind of life as I had. Most of them had hustled queers and had been picked up by that recruiter after being set free. The guy made a career out of sitting in the courtrooms to get young boys busted for hustling. This way he knew that the kid was both available and willing to sell his body.
"The boys are called by the Youth Exchange to appear at the headquarters one by one when their time comes up. If a boy misses just one assignment he is out for good. Since we are all living rent free and are given enough money for food no one wants to louse themselves up.
"The youngest guy at the hotel is sixteen and the oldest is eighteen. The Exchange has younger kids going all the way down to twelve. These younger boys are kept at private homes run by the Exchange and looked over by adults.
Since we're considered old enough to live without adult supervision we are more or less on our own. Actually none of us stay at the hotel or the houses for long because there is always a demand for our services and there is also a quick turnover in boys. Some kids quit after the first assignment and others, who stay on, become too old or too stale. At the age of seventeen I have just a year to make what I could at the racket.
"The financial end is chancy. I mean, the boys only get one fourth of the weekly fee the woman sends in. If a boy rates only a hundred dollars a week he gets twenty five for himself. This is a little more that what I had gotten making queers but the Exchange tells me that there are expenses in keeping us in housing and food. But, all the tips we get from the women are ours. And this is what makes the racket worthwhile. I've known of some guys who drove back to L.A. in cars they've managed to get out of their ever-loving women. I've had eight assignments so far and I'm doing better now than I had been doing with men. I also get to travel a lot. The eight women have all been in different parts of the country. One of them had a place in the Virgin Islands so I really had myself a vacation. The only complaint I have is that I hadn't started with the Exchange long ago. Of course, it's only been in operation for two years and Paula, the owner, is worried about being found out. But that dame is making money hand over fist. I figure that she has between forty and sixty studs servicing about five hundred women all over the country. With all the kids bringing in between a hundred to two hundred a week the Exchange must be making about fifty grand each month! And, from what I hear, the recruiter is always bringing in new kids so there is the demand for fresh meat. We can pick up an extra fifty bucks for every kid between the ages of sixteen and eighteen we can bring into the Exchange. The price goes higher for younger kids. If I could line up a pretty twelve year old boy I'd get a hundred easy.
"I just don't have the heart to get the real young ones into the Youth Exchange. I've brought in a couple of seventeen year olds, though. These were guys I've found hanging around outside a queer bar looking to see if they could make ten bucks or so for a quickie. They live at the same hotel that I do and they never stop thanking me enough for steering them into the racket. When a kid gets to be about seventeen or so I figure he has a right to do with his body as he pleases. I feel sorry for the kids of twelve and thirteen. They're really being exploited. The Exchange only gives them a few extra dollars every now and then claiming that they are put-ting their share of the fees in bank accounts that they'll get when they're old enough. I doubt it. I think these kids are just slaves."
CASE HISTORY: Arnie, age H.
I met the subject in the home of a thirty-eight year old woman whose husband was traveling in his business most of the time. The woman was a tall, shapely brunette with an excellent figure who had recently found out that her husband indulged himself in teenaged girls when on the road. Taking young boys into her bed was her way of getting revenge. After awhile she discovered that she had developed a fondness for young boys and has them come for two weeks stays just for her own pleasure.
Once I had finished taping the woman's story a handsome young boy came into the room drinking from a soda bottle. At first I had the impression that he was the woman's son but changed my mind when he sat next to her and grabbed her crotch. This was Arnie, the fourteen year old boy she was having for this session. He didn't want to talk at first but his woman, in a confessional mood after the taping, urged him to do so.
"I might get in trouble telling you this but I'll chance it. I haven't been with the Youth Exchange long, only four months. But I've been on ten assignments already. As soon as I'm rested up I'm sent out. I'm in demand and I get one of the highest prices. I used to let the Exchange bank my money for me but I got nervous about my dough and put it into my own savings account. The Exchange didn't like the idea that I didn't trust them exactly but they gave in because I was too popular a boy to cross. You have to be a real bitch to get around today.
"I've been on my own since I was thirteen. That's when my mother ran off with some guy and my father stayed drunk all the time. When I heard that the courts were going to send me to some kind of home I just lit out. I didn't want to stay in no kid's jail until I was twenty-one. I heard about such cases.
"Lucky I ran away in the summer because a kid don't stand out so much when he's traveling. I hitchhiked. Queers were always picking me up. The first one scared me when he grabbed my pecker and said he'd give me a dollar if I'd let him put it in his mouth. I did and got me a dollar. That's the first money I ever made selling my body.
"I worked for awhile as a newsboy but, when the summer was over and kids started going back to school, I had to find other work. I used to wait until school was over and then go to grocery stores to work delivering packages. I slept anyplace I had a mind to. I slept in the basements of empty houses and cars that had their doors unlocked.
"One day this guy who was about eighteen walks by and sees me sleeping in a car one night. He wakes me up and asks me questions about myself. I'm too sleepy to lie so I tell him the truth. He says that he can find a place for me to sleep and I follow him. He brings me to this fancy house where a lady with gray hair pats my ass and says I'm real cute. Then she tells me how I can make some money, have a place to sleep and meals to eat. She says all I have to do is make love.
"I don't know what she means exactly at first. She tells me she'll give me a bath because I needed it. This woman, Paula, brings me into the bathroom and tells me to take off my clothes in front of her. Well, I never took off my clothes in front of any women before even my mother but I do anyhow. My dong is hard and I try to hide it with my hands. She takes my hands away. 'Don't be ashamed of that, Arnie,' she says to me. 'That's what will make both of us rich."
"She turns on the hot water in the tub and, when it's filling up, she takes off her own clothes. I tell you, man, I don't know whether to shit or go blind! I see her big. fat boobies, her bare behind and her thing between her legs. My pecker is fit to bust. She has me step into the tub and she begins to clean my body. When she gets to my pecker she does what the queers did. I never thought women liked to do that.
"She then goes into the tub with me and we squeeze next to each other. Paula lets the water run out and, when the tub is almost empty, she takes me on top of her. With one hand she reaches down and puts my pecker into her thing. Then she tells me how to move up and down. I do and ... man! I never felt nothing so good! This here woman is a granny but she sure does like to fuck!
"She dries me and takes me to bed with her where she has me do the queer thing with my mouth on her. I don't like it much but she tells me that I should get used to it because lots of women will pays lots of money to have me queer them.
"The next day she sends me to this other house where there are boys my age and even younger. I learn from them that I'll be sent out to have sex with women. The house is run by a young couple, a man and a woman. I like them but they sure get worried when a boy goes for a walk by himself and don't come back for awhile. The man and woman tell me that this is my new home and it is a hell of a lot better than sleeping in cars and basements. I agree with them and say I won't run away.
"The meals are good and the woman has us boys help her cook and clean. I'm put in a room with five other boys around my age. We all sleep on cots and bunk beds. These guys tell me about the women they've had and I get so hot that I jerk off that night. When the man sees the stains on the bed he yells at me to control myself. I'll have all the sex I can handle soon enough.
"The Exchange sends for me a few days later and I'm told that a forty-two year old woman in Texas picked my picture out and wanted me for a week. I'm driven out to the airport by the same eighteen year old who had found me. It turns out that he's a whore, too, and that he made seventy-five bucks for bringing me in. He tells me that I should stick with Exchange and not run away when I get to Texas because they'd hunt me down and bring me back. I know he's kidding. I'm not that dumb.
"I get a kick out of the plane flight. The first time I've ever been up in a jet. At the airport in Texas this woman picks me right away from my picture. She's kind of ugly and skinny but she's nice. She lives in this pretty big apartment all by herself and she tells me that she's been out of her mind for a little loving ever since her husband died. I know what she wants so I open my fly and pull out my dong. 'Here, lady,' I say.
"The woman laughs until tears come down her skinny face. Then she hugs me hard and says 'You're a jewel! A precious jewel!'
"Well, I don't know what got her so all fired up but she sure don't turn me down. She takes off her clothes and I take off mine. Her boobs are kind of flat and hang down a lot but she ain't all that bad. I get on top of her and finish her. She goes out of her mind and licks my whole body afterwards. We do all kinds of sex stuff for the rest of the week.
"When this woman drives me out to the airport she shoves an envelope into my hand and tells me that is for being such a good boy. I open the envelope on the plane and find that she gave me ten ten dollar bills. A hundred bucks just for myself!
"As soon as I get off the plane at L.A. the same eighteen year old is waiting to drive me back to the Exchange. He asks me how I made out and I tell him. I even brag about the hundred.
This is a mistake because he tries to tell me that I should give him half for steering me on to the whore business. I know he's already been paid for bringing me in so I just hang on to the envelope.
"Paula, the gray-haired lady who first tested me, is all smiles when I come in. The other lady I'd loved in Texas had called to say how much she liked me. 'Keep this up, Arnie,' Paula says, 'and you'll make more money and go on more plane trips than anyone."
"When the guy who drove me tells her that I had a hundred extra dollars the woman says she'll put it in the bank for me where it will be safe. I don't want to give it to her but I do. I guess the old lady is honest. So far I've never heard none of the boys say they been cheated. But I don't want to be the first. Now I got me my own account with close to seven hundred dollars in it from tips and all! I'm going to wait until I get me a whole thousand dollars then I'll retire from the whore business. I don't know what I'll do from there but back home I could buy me a little house complete with furniture. I don't want to be a whore boy all my life. I'm getting tried of all this running around. Jet planes used to be fun but now I feel sick every time I see one."
CASE HISTORY: Raymond, age 12.
I chanced to see one of the youngest boys in the Youth Exchange when I interviewed a forty year old divorcee who had recently been awarded the house complete with pool, two cars and a thousand a month from her wealthy former husband. She was petite to the point of being child-like. Although a mature woman of forty she looked like a teenager when viewed from a distance. Only the small lines in her face gave her age away.
It was this smallness of body that has always annoyed the woman. She has hated her baby-face and her young girl figure all her life. To prove that she was a real woman she threw herself at men. She could not stop this habit even after she had married. Her husband didn't wish to bring his family name into court on a messy sex scandal and divorced her by giving into all her demands.
The forty year old divorcee changed after that. She decided that she might be happier with young boys. When she found out about the Youth Exchange she wanted the youngest boys available. One of these boys, her fifth in the past year, was at her place. He was swimming nude in the pool that stretched inside the house. The woman was also naked and found nothing wrong with being interviewed that way.
We sat on chairs facing the pool where the young twelve year old desported himself with obvious glee. He was slim and pretty with sun bleached hair and a deeply tanned skin. The woman seemed more like the boy's sister rather than his forty year old lover. She, too, had a slim figure, sun bleached hair and a deep tan. Like the boy she was tanned all over without any bathing suit marks.
When I finished taping her story she offered me a drink and I accepted. I told her that I'd like to interview the boy, too, if she didn't mind.
"If he don't mind, I don't," she answered.
She called the boy in and he swam like a light-brown fish to the end of the pool that was at our feet. He climbed out of the water with his child's body shiny wet. He seemed to be very happy although he seemed a bit nervous when he saw me. The forty year old woman introduced us and told Raymond to talk to me about his life. The boy dried himself and accepted a soft drink from his naked lover. He sat next to me and, between sips, gave me the story of his very short life.
"I didn't like home. There were always too many kids there. I have ten brothers and sisters. My bigger brothers were always beating me up and I always had to watch out for the younger ones. I hated school because I wore the worst clothes. Everybody always made fun of me. One day one of my older sisters, she was near sixteen, run off with a man. Everybody says she became a whore. I didn't know what a whore was until somebody on the block told me. That was a girl who let men do dirty things to her for money.
"My mother and father don't want to look for my sister and say it's better that's she's gone because that's one less mouth to feed. They don't try to look for her. I igure that they won't look for me if I run off so I did.
"The cops find me and bring me to a place with a lot of other kids who run off. I stay there awhile and get sent back home. I get beat up by my father and mother and brother and sisters. I stay around for awhile and don't go to school. The school sends someone to get me. I just spend one day in school. When recess comes I take off and just don't come back. I keep walking until it gets dark and fall asleep in the park. When I wake up I'm hungry. My mother and father always told me not to talk to strange men so I talked to a strange woman. I tell her I'm hungry and I'll wash her car or something for fifty cents.
"She asks me questions about myself. When I tell her how bad things are at home and how much I want to run away she smiles. 'You've come to the right woman,' she says.
"She takes me to her apartment and gives me a lot to eat. She tells me that she likes little boys and belongs to an organization that takes care of them. That night she takes me into her bed. She is wearing no clothes and I can see everything. She tells me to take of all my clothes, too.
"When we get under the covers she starts to kiss me. My thing, a penis it's called, is hard and sticks up. That's what is known as an erection. But, I suppose you know all about that since you're old. This lady told me all about sex when we were under the covers. She told me that sex was good for everyone and that it makes people happy. If everybody had sex they'd be no wars.
"When she talks she brings me close to her and puts my penis thing into what she called her vagina. Then she shows me how to fornicate. I just have to move up and down while my penis is in her vagina. It sure does feel good. But I tell her I feel like I'm about to pee. She tells me that's sperm and it comes out of penises. It is the stuff that makes babies inside of women.
"My sperm pees out and my penis gets soft. She pats my ass and tells me I'm virile. That means I can screw. She kisses me all over and puts her mouth down. Then there's an erection and sperms. The woman licks me and puts one of her nipples ... one of those (Raymond pointed to a nipple on the body of the divorcee who was seated on the other side of him) in my mouth. I suck on it and she hums and pets my hair while I do.
"I stay with the lady for a month and I learn everything about sex. When I fornicate her anus, that's called sodomy. When I fornicate her mouth, that's called fellatio. When I mouth her vagina, that's called cunnilingus. Raymond pronounced all the sexual words very well.)
"The lady tells me that she wrote to the club she belongs to and they wanted to see me. She said that women all over the country have boys sent to them for sex. If a woman finds a boy on her own she can send him to the club and get another boy free or a week. She says I'll live in a nice house, have lots to eat, have friends and even make some money from women.
"'I'll be like a whore?' I ask.
"The lady is amazed. 'Where did you learn that word? I never taught it to you?'
"I tell her I heard it when my sister run off with a roan so she can get some money by letting him do dirty things to her. The lady says that sex isn't dirty, only the minds of people are dirty when they try to stop it. She talks for a long time about how everyone should have every kind of sex every time and stop wars. 'I never want to hear you call sex dirty again, young man,' she says at the end of her speech.
"I say I won't do that again. The next day she brings me to the airport and kisses me. There are tears in her eyes. 'I love you, little darling,' she says. 'I hope you'll make other women as happy as you've made me."
"Now I start to cry. "Why can't I stay with you?' I ask.
"'My greed,' she says. 'I'm greedy for other boys. I must have different ones all the time. One of these days I may have you back again."
"The plane takes me to Los Angeles. Another lady meets me at the airport and brings me to the Youth Exchange. A gray haired lady named Paula pats my cheek and kisses me and says, 'I've heard of how well you've been trained. Once we send your picture out the women will be dying to get at you."
"I am brought to a house with a lot of boys. At first it reminds me of home only there is much more room, much more to eat and the man and woman who run the place say they'll lock up any boy in a room to himself if he starts a fight.
"It turns out that I'm going to be a whore because that's what all the other boys say they are. I can't see what's so wrong with being a whore and why my mother and father got so mad. The living is a lot better.
"There is a woman in Los Angeles who wants me and I'm driven over by an older boy. She's old, fifty and pretty fat but she hugs and kisses me and pretty soon we're both fornicating. I stay with her for a week and she drives me back to the Youth Exchange herself. She tells Paula I'm the best boy she's ever had. They both laugh. I stay at the house for a few more days and then I'm sent here. I like this lady the best of all. She has this swell pool and she has the prettiest body. I'll hate to leave."
The forty year old woman upon hearing this compliment brought the young twelve year old to her lap and kissed him hard on the mouth. "You are the sweetest thing!" she cried. "What a lady killer you're going to grow up to be. You're a lady killer now!"
Although I had interviewed many women and boys this was the first time I had witnessed an actual sexual contact between two of them. The woman stroked the boy while he cupped his hand over one of her very small breasts. Her bust was under-developed and very immature. She had the breasts of a girl of fourteen. To some respect the twelve year old boy was closer to her age, her physical age, than any man her age would be. I had the idea that I was looking at two children in the midst of sexual play. I felt I should leave but the raw eroticism of the situation riveted me to my seat. As an objective viewer of human sexuality and I had avoided indulging my own desires even though several women had offered themselves to me during the interviews. I had no plans to inject myself into this scene between the twelve year old boy and the slight, forty year old woman but I could not help but stare.
Raymond gave me a passing glance and then ignored me while the woman excited him into an erected state. She slipped to the thick rug at her feet and brought the boy into her arms. The woman was so involved with the child that she paid me no notice at all. And, yet, I felt that she had more than the touch of the exhibitionist in her and wanted to flaunt this sexuality in front of me. Again she wanted to prove that she was a woman despite her young girl's body.
The naked twelve year old's tanned buttocks moved up and down as he began. This was the waif who had slept in cars and who had been brutalized by his family. Now he was a call boy, a highly-priced prostitute who jetted from woman to woman all over the country. He may even go around the world as one of his little brother's in sin had already done and become an international child-gigolo. In the Youth Exchange it was very possible.
Raymond thrust himself with adult expertise. He had already had more erotic experiences than many adults managed to get around to enjoying. The twelve year old rammed his slim, brown body into the forty year old woman below him swiftly and then slowed to a stop. The woman sighed and cupped his small buttocks with her hands as he spewed out his maleness.
They kissed with open mouths. The woman rolled him over on the thick rug and now her buttocks were exposed. Strangely enough they looked like those of the young boy except somewhat wider and more deeply tanned. The forty year old woman brought her lips down to the child's neck and then to his flat stomach. Raymond grinned wickedly as he knew what she was going to do next.
The divorcee placed her mouth on the boy's sexual area. She made loud sounds and I had the idea that she was doing it for my benefit to display herself erotically as much as possible. My eyes went to Raymond's face. Despite his experiences he looked terribly young and innocent. His long lashes were lowered as he gazed at the mature woman performing an act of fellatio upon him.
And then it was over. The woman knelt on the floor and rested her narrow buttocks on the back of her heels as she played with the boy's now limp penis. She turned her head towards me. "We're going in swimming now, care to join us?" she invited.
I knew that she was actually encouraging me to join them sexually and make it a threesome. Although I did want to swim in that pool I had to turn her offer down. I thought of how the Youth Exchange would react once they found out I had lost my reporter's objectivity. I would have given them a weapon to use against me and those midnight threatening phone calls would be renewed.
I finished the drink that I had been holding deadly in my hand as I had been watching the erotic exhibition and left. As I walked passed the outdoor area of the pool I saw the two lovers; the twelve year old boy and the forty year old woman swimming naked together. It was a blissful scene that would have thrilled me if it wasn't for the vast age difference between the male and the female sex partners.
Raymond had shown me more than sex in action. He had revealed to me the fact that women who belonged to the Youth Exchange could act as recruiters, too. By picking up and "breaking in" a young boy on their own they could send him to the club in order to have another youngster sent back to them with no charge save carfare and the warm body of the child they had seduced. As to why a woman simply didn't pick up her own boys without relying on the Youth Exchange and its excessive charges I could only deduce that it was rare for an older woman to find a boy so easily. The Youth Exchange also saved the women the danger of risking an arrest for picking up young boys.
The twelve year old boy had already been exploited by the woman who had seduced him and now he was being exploited again by a national organization that used the bodies of young boys to gratify the desires of mature women. Yet, when I saw young Raymond at the woman's house I could not help but weigh the life he had led before his seduction to the one he was leading now. Exploited or not the twelve year old seemed happy and contented. For the first time in his bitter young life he was experiencing love. This love was strange and neurotic and yet it was an improvement over the lovelessness of the home he had fled from.
What of the boy's future? He was only twelve now and he had years of dependence in front of him. How long could a young boy go from one adult female to another without becoming strange and neurotic himself?
The fourteen year old, Arnie, impressed me as being a tough-minded sort of a boy and he troubled me less. He had had the will and maturity to face down the Youth Exchange and demand full accounting of the money he had made. His early sex experiences had toughened and seasoned him.
Harry, the seventeen year old, had at least been introduced to sex at the fairly mature age of sixteen. He impressed me as someone who had learned to take care of himself and yet had not hardened to the point where he could bring very young boys like Raymond to the Youth Exchange for exploitation even though he wasn't above trying to con the slightly older boy out of some money. Perhaps all he needed was some more time to lose what humanity he had.
Harry, Arnie and Raymond. Three young boys involved in America's most secret sin; the passion that mature women have for very young males. What will become of them?
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE BLACKBALLED
Every club has members that it blackballs, throws out, for various reasons. Non dues paying is one of them. The Youth Exchange, with all it's expensive demands, has yet to discharge a woman for non-payment. Having the members pay for services in advance is the chief reason for this record. Yet, the Youth Exchange has blackballed several women for being too harsh or too disturbed with the boys.
The sexual nature of the Exchange cannot help but bring out people's maladjustments. Female prostitutes know that some of their male clients are "dumpers", men who enjoy inflicting pain on them. Although there are prostitutes who agree to being whipped, spanked and humiliated for a price there are limits to how far they can let these sadists go. More than a few female prostitutes have been killed by sadists who went too far.
The Youth Exchange discourages "dumping" from their female clients since the club deals with very young boys. Trudy, the Negro nurse who enjoyed humiliating white boys was a mild "dumper" who knew where to draw the line. The Youth Exchange did not throw her out because she had returned the boys in good shape with no more than well spanked buttocks to remember her by. Yet there are women who did not draw any lines. So far a number of boys have escaped the clutches of these mad females and a few had come close to being murdered. The Youth Exchange bends over backwards to avoid these incidents. When boys come back from their assignments they are "debriefed" in order to determine the mental and emotional climate of the women they had serviced. If a boy tells of torment in the hands of client this woman is quickly dropped.
On my list of members there were a few women who had been blackballed by the club. I went to see them to find out just why they had been turned out of the Exchange.
CASE HISTORY: Margo, age 39.
The subject is a widow who lives alone in a five room cottage located in a rural area. She has long dark hair that hangs to the middle of her back and flashing black-eyes. When I drove up to her cottage I was greeted by several snarling, barking dogs. The woman called them off and, when I told her who I was and what I wanted, she brought me into her house.
The place was dirty and there were half eaten apples all over the floors giving the cottage a heavy smell of cider. Even before interviewing the woman I could see that she was disturbed. She sat on the edge of her chair as if poised for flight while she spoke into the tape recorder.
"I don't know why the Exchange dropped me. I treated the boy they sent me nicely. He had plenty to eat. I grow apples. Look at all of them.
"My husband was a son-of-a-bitch like all men. He made me work twelve hours a day, seven days a week to keep the goddamned place going. He really didn't have to work me that hard. There are lots of help he could've picked up cheap to do the heavy stuff. I hire them and I have nothing but time now. I'm sure glad my husband died. The bastard was killed in an auto accident. I got his insurance. The first thing I did with it was to send away for a boy.
"This fourteen year old named Jimmy shows up. He's no movie idol but he looks good and virile. My husband was always too tired to have sex. All he wanted was to make more and more money growing apples. I was tired, too, but never too tired for sex. What would it take ... five minutes?
"All men are sons-of-bitches. Excuse me for saying this to you but you can't be any different. Boys? Well, they're just little sons-of-bitches. They still could be trained right. Jimmy is only fourteen but he could still be trained right, still whipped into line.
"I tell the boy that I don't want to be raped even though I am paying for sex. He answers that he's here to do everything I want and in every way. I say I'll take him up on that and I bring him into the next room. There is a pipe overhead that I'd tied leather straps to. I tell him I want to tie his hands to the pipe just so I can do all the sex without being afraid he'll run away or rape me. Jimmy says he doesn't mind and puts his hands up under the pipe. I strap his hands tight and I can see he's secure.
"Now that I know he can't be the bastard he really wants to be I kneel on the floor and take off his shoes and socks. Then I pull off his pants and jockey shorts. The boy has a nice big thing and it is ready for sex. I then get another leather strap and tie his ankles together so he can't move. 'Won't we be more comfortable in bed?' he asks me.
"'Shut up, you bastard!' I yell at him. 'I'm the boss."
"The kid shuts his trap after that. His penis gets softer and softer and I ask him where was the sex he had just a minute ago? Was he trying to take it from me. Was he going to claim he's tired?
"Jimmy swallows hard. "I ... I'm just not used to being tied up like this,' he tells me.
"'You'll get used to it,' I say. 'I should've tied up my bastard husband like this when he was alive. This way I can have the sex I want."
"I take off my clothes in front of the boy. His penis gets hard again. I stand in front of him and impale my body on his stiffness. I hold on to him. It feels good to have the boy's flesh inside me. He's only fourteen but he feels like a man. I grab his behind and keep shoving fast until the boy does his thing. At that time my husband was dead in his grave for only a month. I wish he could have seen me.
"I move away from the boy and he tells me that the straps are hurting his wrists and ankles. I say nothing. He can't do anything to me. I'm the one who can do things to him. I get down on my knees and use my mouth. He gets hard right away and, after I work on him for a couple of minutes, he has a climax. As he gets soft once more I chew on him hard and he tells me to stop. I ignore him and keep chewing. 'Please!' he begs. 'Let me alone: I'll do everything you want if you'll just untie me!'
"Oh, how I wish I could just bite him off! How I wanted to bring my teeth together and slice that meat in two. He'd never get to be a man after that. He'd never get to be a son-of-a-bitch. I stand up again and face the boy. He looks scared. 'What's wrong?' I ask him. 'I thought you wanted to have sex in all kinds of ways."
"'I didn't expect this,' he tells me and looks down at himself. His meat is blood red and there are teeth marks on him. 'What are you trying to do?' he cries.
"I tell him not to be such a baby. I was only giving him good training. No boy liked school but, once they got their education, they came back to thank the teachers.
"The boy moans and groans but I leave him hanging there for another hour. I just sit in a chair and look at him feeling glad to know that he's all mine to do with as I pleased. He does have a nice body. His skin is sunburnt and there is just a bit of hair over his penis. In a few more years there would be hair all over his body just like my husband's. In a few more years his flat belly would swell up and stick out like a knocked-up woman. That's what my husband looked like: a hairy, pregnant woman. And I wanted him even then because he was all I had. And he didn't give me that fat, ugly body of his when I asked for it. The only times he took me was when he was in the mood. Then he'd go plop on me and do it fast. He really raped me but how could I complain. When he was satisfied he snored in his sleep.
"But I was keeping Jimmy awake. He wasn't going to fall asleep on me and he wasn't going to rape me. He was going to have sex when I wanted it for a change.
"The boy begs me to let him loose because his arms were killing him. I like to hear him beg. I'm training him good. He was learning to do what a woman asked. I untied his hands and he slumps to the floor rubbing his shoulders. I untie his legs but he still just lies there moaning. 'It hurts,' he says in a little voice. 'I didn't expect this."
"I help him over to the bed and he just lies there moaning and groaning. I figure that he's hungry so I pick some apples and give them to him. He doesn't eat a single one. I guess they're too green for him.
"Jimmy gets out of bed later and keeps examining his body in the mirror. He pulls on his meat and tells me that he doesn't know if it will get stiff again. I tell him that he got to get hard because that's what I've paid for.
"'Maybe I should go back to L.A.,' he says. 'The Exchange will send out another boy with no extra charge if I don't please you."
"I can see that this kid isn't much good. I send him packing and tell him to have the club send a bigger, stronger boy who can make love all the time. Jimmy leaves without thanking me for my hospitality. He's a city boy and those city people never did have any manners.
"All the time I keep waiting for another boy to show. Instead I get a letter from the Exchange. They tell me that the membership is full up and they are dropping some of the newcomers like myself. Inside the envelope is my membership fee and amount I had sent them for the first boy in a single check. They didn't send the money I had spent on the boy's air fare, though.
"Something is fishy, I know it. That little bastard, Jimmy, said something against me and that's why I was dropped. See? Like I told you ... all men are bastards."
The extent of Margo's sickness was obvious. Because of the unhappy life she had led with her husband both in and out of bed she now wanted to correct it with young boys. She wanted to "train" them into being the kind of lovers she wanted her husband to be. Like so many mentally disturbed people she was not aware of her sickness. To Margo she was right and the world was wrong. In her mind there was nothing wrong with tying up a young boy, performing a painful sex act upon him and then leaving him suffer for an hour while she just watched. Jimmy made his escape as soon as he was able. There was no telling how far the mad woman would have gone if he lingered and continued to submit to her twisted needs.
CASE HISTORY: Peggy, age 46.
When the Youth Exchange gets requests for memberships it cannot determine the mental condition of the large majority of these woman. Some of the requests clearly show a woman to be disturbed such as one case in which the membership application contained every obscene word in the English language along with words so badly scrawled that they could not be determined.
The subject, Peggy, sent in a very neat and politely worded request for membership yet she turned out to be one of the most disturbed women the club had ever come in contact with. The forty-six year old spinster lives in an apartment building that she also owns. She makes her living out of rent money and so has the time and the cash to spend on her erotic desires. The Exchange did not mind this. But it did not know just how far out her desires went.
Unlike Margo this pleasant looking woman showed no outward sign of mental illness. She was neatly dressed and her hair was cut short and in place. At first she thought I had been sent by the Youth Exchange to explain to her why her application had suddenly been withdrawn. Even though I explained who I was several times she never quite seemed to believe me.
"You must be an official in the club. They had to send someone. But, if you insist on playing this game I'll go along with you.
"As you know I'm a single person, very neat in my habits. I did not give into my immoral desires until late in life. Today you hear of young girls no more than thirteen and fourteen having babies. Well, I was never like that. I never allowed a boy to touch me until I was twenty. Even then I just permitted kisses.
"I waited until I was thirty-seven before I indulged in that final immorality. Thirty-seven! I am not making excuses. I have sinned and I expect punishment. If one does not suffer in this world they will suffer in the next. The piper must be paid, I always say.
"My virginity was lost to a man I met on a cruise ship. I knew I should have been strong but I gave in and my purity was gone. Although I prayed all that night I knew that I was never going to get my purity back. But, no one could really throw stones at me. I had been strong for a long time which is more than I can say about the young people of today who jump into bed with the first boy who asks them.
"The next sinful experience came two years later. Two years later, mind you! This hardly marks me as a very wicked woman. Some women can't go two days without sin.
"I prayed and managed to avoid men for another five years. Then I weakened to an extent where I had three men within the next three months. I knew that my flesh was getting weaker and I punished it. After each sinful experience I whipped myself and spread my filth all over my body. I mean filth my feces. This disgusts you and it disgusts me but one must be humbled after one sins. The flesh that had sinned must be mortified.
"Are you sure you are not from the Exchange? Be honest with me. I'm being honest with you. If you have been sent here to spy on me go right ahead. I am hiding nothing as you can see. I will confess my sins to anyone. How else can a person expect to enter that better world?
"If you wish to continue telling me that you are a writer I will accept it. Now, where was I? Oh. Yes! Mortification. Adultery is a grave sin. Those men I had lost myself with had been married. If they had been single the sin of the flesh would not have been as serious although, mind you, it would have been serious enough. That is why I joined the Youth Exchange. I knew that young boys were single. If I was going to sin then I wanted it to be with single men.
"Now, I am a woman who is most correct in her habits. You will notice that I did not request a boy below the age of seventeen. I cannot see why there are women who would wish to cause children as young as twelve to sin with them. But, that is what they will have to answer for. Boys of seventeen and eighteen, however, are really young men and not children.
"I was sent a seventeen year old named Chris after I joined the Exchange. He was the kind I wanted. He was tall, muscular and very masculine. My weak flesh hungered for him the moment I laid eyes on him. When he took off his clothes I could see the sinning part of his flesh hanging very long and tempting. What strength I had to resist sin was now gone.
"I unclothed myself and exposed my sinful parts to the boy. He told me that I have a very nice figure. This is true. As you notice I am of proper weight and I keep myself in trim through diet and exercise. It is awful the way some people let themselves go. But, that is neither here nor there. At any rate this young man hungered for my body. His sinning flesh aroused and lengthened to its most tempting state. I threw myself into his arms and the boy pressed me against the bed.
"His maleness filled me and excited my weak flesh. I pushed up aginst him so mad was I for sin. I wrapped my arms and legs around Chris as he rammed and rammed as an animal would. And, for this moment at least, I was an animal.
"The seventeen year old moved with powerful strokes and brought me to the very peak of excitement. He sent forth that virile part of him and I cried out in sheer evil joy. The young male grasped my body, rubbed against me, thrilled me until his virility lessened and his sinning flesh withdrew from mine.
"'Wow, lady!' Chris told me. 'You sure are a great lay!'
"These words choke in my throat but I wish you to know everything. You can tell the Exchange that I am no liar. Oh, I forgot. You insist you don't belong to that organization.
"To continue. Once the young man was off of me I knelt on the floor. He assumed that I desired to engage in that unspeakable French sin and placed his maleness against my lips. I told the seventeen year old that I wished to pray and ask forgiveness. I requested him to help me.
"'I'm not religious, lady,' he told me.
"I didn't expect that you were,' I answered. 'You young people are without moral fiber today.' Then I told him what he was to do. There was a whip I kept in the apartment for just such mortification. I had used it on myself many times but I am afraid that I've never punished myself fully. This took the arm of another person.
"The boy did not want to do it but I insisted. He found the whip and told me that the whole thing was crazy. I told him to lay the whip on me as I knelt before him. I told him to insult me, to spit on me as he whipped.
"Chris finally brought the whip down on my back. It was a very light stroke. I had given myself much harder ones. I yelled at the boy to put himself into the punishment and not hold back. The whip came down again. 'Harder!' I screamed.
"It took Chris at least a dozen strokes before he began to hurt me in the fashion I wished. I stretched out on the floor at his feet so he could cover my entire sinning body with the whip. I felt my buttocks being cut and gloried in the knowledge that my sin was being sliced away by the very one I had indulged myself with.
"The boy stopped and claimed that he couldn't whip me any longer because of a 'cramp' he got in his shoulder. I knew that he was lying to get out of punishing me. Young sinners want to indulge themselves without paying the piper. I told him that he had to be whipped now." he had to be whipped now.
"'Take it easy, lady,' he said. T don't dig being beaten. You may get your kicks that way but I don't."
"I could see that he did not have the moral fiber to accept punishment so I bided my time. I pretended that I had given up all ideas of punishing him and made drinks. I do not mean of the alcoholic variety. I would not keep a drop of that evil brew in my house. I gave him a cola drink ... with four sleeping tablets mixed inside. It took him a half an hour before he dropped off to sleep and I tied his hands and feet together with wire and then pulled him off the bed. He fell to the floor hard but he did not wake up. He would wake up soon enough.
"I rolled him over on his stomach and applied the whip hard. He mumbled. I struck him again and he opened his eyes. Chris was very groggy and he could hardly speak. 'What's this?' he managed to say.
"'Repent!' I cried and whipped him again.
"He tried to roll away from me but I was after him all the time. He tried to get up but the sleeping pills and the wire held him down. I whipped until bright red marks criss-crossed his entire body.
"How many women who belong to the Exchange also consider the moral welfare of the boys they get? I am sure that I am the only one who purges the sin after it has been committed. I am the only one concerned about the moral welfare of these young men and boys.
"Chris kept telling me that I was insane. I suppose, to the immoral, morality is insanity. I told him that we must mortify our flesh in order to purify it. I was going to show him the way. I urinated on him and he cried out as the hot stream spread over the red stroke marks.
I told him that he could do the same to me. 'Let me up,' he said. 'llntie me and you'll see what I can do to you. If you want pain and punishment I'll oblige."
"I was glad that the young man was finally seeing the light. Before I let him up I defecated on him and spread the feces all over his sinning flesh. The further down one is humiliated the further up one will rise.
"Now that Chris had taken his purging I untied him. The first thing he did was to punch me in the face. I wanted punishment but this blow was unexpected. The young man went into the bathroom and cleaned himself off. He stayed there for a long time and, when he came out, he was still staggering under the effects of the sleeping tablets. He grabbed his shorts and put them on. 'You're not leaving now,' I said. 'We have a week together."
"'No we don't,' he answered. 'I've fucked some pretty crazy women but you take the prize."
"I trust that you'll forgive me for using that Anglo-Saxon term but those were his exact words. I want the Youth Exchange to realize the kind of young men they send out. Just because one indulges in sin one does not have to use the words that describe it.
"Chris left and I was sure that he'd get in some kind of accident since he was still very sleepy. But, I suppose he did manage to get back to Los Angeles because I soon get a letter from the club returning my membership fee and the money I had sent to get the seventeen year old. I was informed that my membership was no longer welcomed with the excuse that the club was overcrowded as it was. Now, I'm not unintelligent. I know a phony excuse when I see one. Just why I have been excluded from the Exchange? You tell me. I know that you're from that club and you are spying on me. Is this some kind of test? If it is go back to that Exchange and inform them that I have passed it. I will continue to purge sin both from myself and the young men I sin with. If your group cannot stand a woman of strength and moral fiber then I do not wish to become a member after all! Good day, sir!"
It is clear from Peggy's ravings that she is very unstable. Her conviction that I was a spy reveals her paranoic character. At first glance the middle-aged spinster appears to be well adjusted and sane but madness boils beneath her calm surface. She is torn apart with her desire for sex and the idea that it is evil and required purging. The extent of her purgings are, in themselves, sexual perversions. The desire to whip and be whipped has erotic undertones that the Marquis de Sade had discovered centuries ago. The desire to give and receive the urine and feces of another is an even grosser and greater perversion. The spinster, in reality, had used a larger "sin" to cover a lesser one. She "punished" herself for the "sin" of fornication with her warped sexual needs. Chris, the boy who had endured the woman's madness, had managed to escape with his life. The woman could have easily given him one pill too many. The fact that he only punched her in retaliation after she had set him free bodes well for his self control. Another boy may have beaten her to death in anger. It was little wonder that Peggy was blackballed from the Youth Exchange. One act of murder would have brought the entire operation out into the open.
CHAPTER EIGHT
GROUP RATES
The Youth Exchange, like other clubs, offer their members "group rates." If a certain number of women get together they could get an equal number of boys at a lower rate. I found out this wrinkle by accident when I went to interview a forty-two year old widow who owned a summer colony.
The summer season had not begun so Ellen could enjoy the lake her summer colony of small cottages surrounded by herself. But the sprightly, youngish widow was not the hermit type. She invited several of her women friends to join her. As it happened all these women; married, single, divorced and widowed, were members of the Youth Exchange. This pre-summer vacation gave them all an opportunity to meet, bring their boys and even swap them thus having an exchange of youth within the Youth Exchange.
When I was invited out to the summer colony for the interview by Ellen I expected to find her alone amidst her cottages. Instead I found that the place had a number of people there already, some were in the lake splashing about and complaining how cold it was. What struck me most about the people was that all the women were mature and the males were very young. At first I thought it was some kind of mother-son gathering until a slim, pretty boy of about twelve wearing a bathing suit walked past me holding the hand of a woman in her fifties. I recognized him. He was Raymond, the youngster I had met before when he was on another assignment. The entire summer colony had been taken over by the members of the Youth Exchange.
Ellen, the owner of the place, lived in the best building which overlooked the lake. She was wearing a bikini and she had the figure to go with the outfit. She gave me the story of her life but I felt that it would be more informative to reveal the "group rate" gathering of Youth Exchange members.
Ellen had her boy with her. He was an attractive fourteen year old named Ernie. The name rang a bell. Ernie. I had already written about him when I first began my investigation. A widow named Donna who was Ellen's age had hired his services and had been very pleased with him. It was no doubt that he was a very popular young stud. The boy wore a male bikini which flattered his well cared for body. Although I knew that he was an experienced prostitute he was still young enough to appear boyish and innocent. Ellen slipped her hand around the lad's waist and hugged him. "Isn't he a living doll?" she asked. "He's had just about every dame around here, haven't you, sweetheart?"
The boy smiled slightly. "Just about. I see some ladies out there I've never met. Take that one in the print dress."
He pointed out of a picture window to the fiftish woman with twelve year old stud. She was standing on the shore of the lake while the boy swam out towards a float. Ellen slapped the boy on his firm buttocks. "Go out and play, darling. I'll join you later."
Go out and play. The phrase had a maternal ring to it. I watched as more and more women gathered about the lake. Some had boys with them ranging in age from twelve to eighteen. These were the young studs I had written about, the child prostitutes of the Youth Exchange. By the descriptions other women had given me when I had interviewed them I could pick up some of the boys by name. There was a very good looking almost beautiful boy of eighteen with black curly hair and bright blue eyes who seemed to be slightly effeminate. This was the "switch-hitter," the bi-sexual another woman I had interviewed had loved.
"I bet his name is Dickie," I said to Ellen who was standing by my side.
"How did you know?" she asked in amazement.
I told her about the other interview.
"He is very conceited," she admitted. "I know. I had him last night when I sent my boy off to a friend of mine. Ernie is a lot more of a man than he is and a better lover. Dickie just likes to have women fellate him. That's a sure sign of a queer, you know. The only way they can get kicks from a woman is to have them do what men would do. I just hope he doesn't fool around with any of the boys. I think he's got his baby-blues on that other boy." She pointed to a muscular sixteen year old. "His name is Cliff."
Cliff. Another name from the not-too-distant past. When I had interviewed the women the the boys they talked about had appeared like fictional characters but now I was seeing them in the flesh and they suddenly became very real to me.
"I suppose, in time, all the women here will have all the boys?" I asked.
Ellen winked at me. "And don't you know it. When I first started out with the Exchange I only wanted nice, big studs in their late teens. I could never see what women found in little boys like Raymond. I found out here at the cottages. After I had finished with Dickie I exchanged him for the twelve year old. Now, by this time both kids were pretty pooped. That's the big disadvantage of being male. You can just take so many woman and then no more.
"When little Raymond came into my room he seemed so cute and tired that I just held him in my arms while he nursed on my nipples. The more I played with his penis the more entranced with it I became. How small and sweet it was! I just had to take it orally.
"I put my hands on the twelve year old boy's hips and placed my mouth against him. As I was fellating him I got the shock of my life when the kid begins to French me! I had had quite a few boys up to this point but none gave me as good a job as this twelve year old. He's too pooped out to have a climax but I don't mind. Just mouthing him is enough.
"There is a knock at the door and one of my friend's is standing there with a boy named Albert. He's about fifteen and nicely built. My friend says she heard I had a twelve year old and she wanted to swap him for her boy.
"I tell her that Raymond is about to fall asleep and to just let him nurse on her until he does and not to exchange him again tonight. She tells me that's what she planning to do because she was ready for sleep herself and wanted the smallest, cutest boy in place to cuddle up with.
"Albert, the fifteen year old, is anything but drained dry. As soon as he crawls into the sack with me he puts his body on top of mine. He is fully erected and raring to go. The fifteen year old stud thrusts into me and does it like a guy who has just gotten out of jail after spending ten years away from women. He has a climax that doesn't seem to end and we wet-kiss until he becomes limp.
"The boy gets me hungry for bigger and better studs and I wonder where the biggest and the best is at. Then I remember that a school teacher has him over at her place. When Albert is rested I take him by the hand and we walk through the moonlight to the teacher's place. I look inside and see this dame who is about my age in bed nude with a male. This male packs an eight-inch cannon and I want to be shot by it. I know she's working up to a juicy experience but, since I own the place, she can't exactly turn the exchange down. I knock on the door and tell her who I am. 'Ellen,' she pleads, 'I'm busy right now."
"'So I can see,' I answer.
"Suddenly she knows I can see her in action. She jumps out of the bed with her huge breasts shaking back and forth. Her nipples are so aroused that they stick up for about an inch. She puts on a house coat and opens the door. If you can see how busy I am why disturb me?" she complains.
"I tell her that I'm in the mood for a swap. Albert, I tell her, may be smaller than the one she has on her bed but he packs enough of a wallop to make the trip worthwhile. I can see she wants to get back to the eighteen year old stud but I have him come with me to my place. The night is chilly but this big boy doesn't put on any clothes. He struts across the road with me with his magnificent thing swinging in the breeze. I can see he's hung-up on the way he's hung.
"The boy towers over me and, after little Raymond, his flesh looks about the size of a bull in heat. I lie on the bed.
"He climbs on top of me and tells me he was just about to shoot when I had knocked at the door. 'Don't you know you can drive someone crazy by frustrating them like that?' he adds.
"'You're frustrating me right now, big boy."
"He thrusts into me with his huge hard thing. I feel like he's about to go through my body. He strokes well and very powerfully. Each time he comes all the way into me he lifts my body up a bit. Every time he moves I whisper, "Again ... again!" over and over again each time a little louder. After a couple of dozen strokes I'm sure my voice is ringing all the way across the lake. The big boy hits his peak and it's like a flood of molten lava.
"I just have to do him that other tasty way and I almost choke myself to death trying to get all of him. This eighteen year old stud holds my head in his hands and fills me until he has another flood of passion. I'm almost out of my mind by now.
"We keep up the sex until there is another knock at the door. I know that some over-heated broad had heard about the great stud I had and wanted to exchange. By this time I don't mind because I think I got the cream of his virile power.
"Since I'm in an informal mood I tell whoever it is to come in. This thirty-five year old housewife I know who has a husband more interested in poker than in sex comes in with a very pretty blond boy. He is dressed only in jockey shorts and a sweater. He and my big stud greet each other since they are old friends. My hard-up housewife pops her eyes out when she gets a gander at the equipment the eighteen year old carries. T heard you clear across the lake,' she says and had to see who you were with."
"'Now that you see I suppose you want to buy?' I ask.
"'Exchange?' says she.
"'Exchange,' says I.
"Miss Hard-up leaves with the eighteen year old who still refuses to put anything on. I look out the picture window and see his naked body disappear along the lake with the woman. I turn to Robert and he's taking off his sweater and jockey shorts. He may not pack the punch that big boy had but he's irresistable. This kid is even prettier than most girls his age.
"The thirteen year old blond boy seems tired and I ask him how many different women had he been with tonight. He tells me that I'm his fifth one. I tell him that he'll sleep with me because he needs the rest. So I put a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on my door, turn out the lights and cuddle under the blankets with the naked child. Robert is glad that I'm not going to make any demands on him. He needs his rest. He puts that yellow head of hair between my breasts and throws one leg over my hips. I can feel his limp penis resting against my body and I hold him close. Soon he's fast asleep and breathing hard.
"I'm just about to go to sleep myself when I hear a knock at the door. 'Can't you read?' I say.
"'It's me, Ernie,' the fourteen year old stud I had started out with answers. 'I want to sleep with you."
"I tell him to come in. He seems disappointed when he notices the thirteen year old boy in my arms. I ask him why isn't he with another woman? He answers that she and some other women have started a canasta game and they were keeping him awake. I guess that all the lads are drained by now and the women, still worked up have to get rid of their energies. I guess that's what makes males seem so precious. You all have just so much to give in one night. By now even that eighteen year old stud of studs must be weary.
"I tell my fourteen year old lover that there is room enough in the bed for the three of us. Ernie doesn't mind. He crawls in on the other side of me. He snuggles his sweet young face against mine and his well-loved penis falls against my other leg, limp and warm. I have two young boys in my arms and they are both sleeping the sleep of sexual exhaustion. I'm sure that a lot of people will say that this is a terrible thing but they'd have to be there with these two darling young boys who were contented to sleep with me, a woman who is fifteen years older than their combined ages. Who says that youth always must sleep with youth? Give me one good reason why young boys should not have sex with mature women?"
I could not answer her off-hand. In my strict objectivity I could only look out of the wide picture window and watch the young boys and the older women together. There seemed to be no friction and no hate between the two groups. The so-called generation gap had obviously been filled here.
A car pulled up outside. There were the sound of feet on the driveway and then a knock at the door. Ellen opened the door to bring in a woman of about fifty and a boy of about sixteen. The boy was Negro. The women kissed one another and talked rapidly. Then Ellen gazed at the handsome dark boy. "Well, and who are you?" she wanted to know.
"The name's Jody," he responded. "I just joined the Youth Exchange and they sent me here because they said you needed new boys."
Ellen patted him on the cheek. "You can say that again. Why don't you just put on your bathing trunks and have a swim? You must want to stretch your muscles after such a long trip."
Jody picked up his suitcase and walked behind a breakfast nook partition. He started to remove his clothes. Ellen and the woman chatted for awhile and then the fifty year old who had brought the boy from the airport bade him goodbye and walked down towards the lake.
The sixteen year old colored boy had no inhibitions about stripping himself naked in front of strangers. I was sure that his sexual experience had been considerable. After finding out just how much sex boys of twelve and thirteen could rack up I wouldn't be surprised by anything this sixteen year old would tell me.
Jody was down to his skin. He looked like an ebony statue standing there in the nude with his dark, satiny skin shining in the golden sunlight. His penis was erected and exceptionally long. Ellen walked over to the boy and curled her pale hand over this dark rod of flesh. She didn't speak. She didn't have to. The boy understood.
The forty-two year old white women quickly stripped off her bikini and stood next to the sixteen year old black boy. They embraced. The boy slipped his hands over the woman's small, shapely buttocks and spread them. As he did his body curved into her. I knew that sexual contact was being made. Still standing the lovers moved into one another with an easy, sensual tempo. As it had happened when I had seen another pair of lovers like this I had to watch. I stared at the white and black bodies entwining, grasping, searching and then finding Ellen, grunted softly and placed her lips against the boy's when they stopped moving. For a long moment they clung to one another completely oblivious to me and the fact that they were so much a-part in age and ethnic background. But, in the cottage of the summer colony, white and black, age and youth had met and mingled.
I managed to tear my eyes away. I quietly picked up my tape recorder and walked outside into the bright, beautiful day. As I walked towards my car I passed three women walking with three young boys. I could take them for mothers and sons but I knew that they were not.
As I started the car and drove down the road leading out of the summer colony Ellen's voice sounded in my mind. I recalled what she had said only moments ago. "Who says that youth always must sleep with youth? Give me one good reason why young boys should not have sex with mature women?"
At this writing I have not been able to come up with an answer.
