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"As soon as my husband walked out on me I reverted to what was right for us, 
the way we lived in the commune. The kids were young enough so it didn't 
seem odd or wrong to them to swim and play nude with others of all ages. And 
see me free in my body alone and with men. We spent our vacations here [at 
Mom's Friend's House]. I never closed the door when I had sex. I wanted them 
to see me. To see me play with a penis was their sex education. And because 
we came here a lot and she knew all about it, as soon as she discovered her 
first pubic hairs she wanted a penis inside her. To be with my daughter on 
her big day, to see her skip years of stupid flirting and word games and 
join the natural order at 13 and have fun makes me proud. It's God's order 
of things."

-- A mother gazing at her daughter's cute vagina and at the still-upstanding 
14-year-old penis that just deflowered it, while talking to the mother of 
the boy.

----------

(The story until now: Too long and complex to repeat or even summarize here. 
I've written a brief account of how I came to be deflowered in an accidental 
tumble with a boy at age 11 and how that affected my life thereafter -- how 
Mom was both happy and sad: happy that I was now rid of my virginity and 
free to play with penises, and sorry she couldn't have been there for 
important event of her only child. I had grown up totally honest and open 
with my Mom, and she had watched (and photographed even) all the stages of 
my puberty: for her to miss the big event of a penis piercing my hymen must 
have been a disappointment, although she was quite subdued about it.

(You can read about my first sex if you like, at
http://www.angelfire.com/co4/cobil/first.html . Almost as soon as the 
residue semen had dried on my vulva Mom wanted me to learn all the theology 
and physiology of sex -- as well as how to have the upper hand with men. I 
went on the Pill. I was in play, and I shared boys and penises with all the 
other girls. Mom and I came to take immense pleasure watching one another 
play a penis, seeing a penis slide into the other's vagina, seeing each 
other with legs wide apart, a boy's or man's tongue inside our vaginas. 
Above all was the religious experience of receiving semen in our mouths 
after being brought to climax orally.

(While I have a real life -- I did well in college, have a great job and, 
now, a nice, sexy boyfriend -- I cannot imagine a life without sex as faith 
and faith as sex. And the experience of many penises has made me happy with 
the one I have chosen; has enabled me to make the right choice. There's a 
list of links to most of my prior autobiographical essays at
http://www.angelfire.com/co4/cobil/

Mom is unwell now. I'm glad she is able to see me settled in life. She knows 
I will carry on, as far as society and practicality allow, in bringing up 
children so that they, too, will be uninhibited, never embarrassed, never 
modest. So that I can see any son and daughter of mine -- and they can see 
each other at an age when penis and breasts are still growing -- with erect 
penis, with trickles of semen at mouth or vagina, with the relieved and 
happy smile that follow orgasm. It's a lovely thing to see your 13-year-old 
daughter, a bit apprehensive perhaps, but ready nonetheless, as a boy and 
his mom enter the room, the mom lowers her son's underpants and nudges him 
forward. His penis gets excited, or if it doesn't, the girl knows enough to 
caress and kiss and lick it, and in her mouth it gets strong. The boy kisses 
and licks her vagina and her clitoris, and her vagina becomes dilated and 
wet and her friends and her mom -- and the girl -- have an urgent need to 
see the penis to enter it. Just as I did at that nude dance when the 
13-year-old Big Breasted Girl had spread her legs wide and her boy's penis 
hovered over it forever and he seemed to need help directing it home. But 
those urgent moments are fleeting: soon boy and girl are making love. And 
for the ex-virgin, that first thrust of the penis has freed her forever from 
-- I think Moses David would have said the Antichrist, but I would say from 
the social engineers and the false prophets and the misogynists and those so 
fearful of their own inadequacy that they want to deny pleasure to others. 
To receive semen is to receive Holy Communion (I cannot say that enough 
times). Puberty is the right time for its reception to begin. As others have 
said and I have repeated, the easy availability of sex for adolescents 
disposes of those anxieties that most interfere with studies. Not to mention 
sexual and social dysfunction and problems in later life.

(But they have to be brought up to think of sex as a public, not a secret 
and private, event. So that they are happy being nude together and a mother, 
or a sister, can casually and innocently play with a lover's penis, spread 
her legs in response to an erection, displaying her labia, her vagina. So 
that the lovers can kiss each other's sex parts put penis in girl and be 
proud of the rush of semen that follows. And never arouse anything but 
appreciative glances and vicarious pleasure from family and friends of any 
age.)


This is an essay about some events at Mom's Friend's summer alumni 
homecoming picnic-barbecues, and in particular about a former free-sex 
commune adherent who had lived for a time at Mom's Friend's House. She was a 
single mom who had come out as a lesbian and yet who wanted to assure her 
son a wholesome, hetero, sexually-liberated, puberty and adolescence with 
Mom's Friend's crowd. Be patient in reading this essay though: there are 
lots of digressions and diversions along the way.

When Mom and I moved to Mom's Friend's House it was refreshing for both of 
us to see how easily, casually, comfortably and positively even young girls 
years away from beginning their sex lives related to naked boys. Older ones 
on the threshold of puberty were casual about the adolescents having sex 
around them, more and more curious about orgasm and semen. Among themselves, 
these pre-teens talked of penises, marveled and laughed over older boys' 
erections and ejaculations. And wondered over, anticipated and feared, like 
Charlotte Flax in "Mermaids", the arrival of hormones that would make us 
want to make love to a penis.

Yet, apprehension or not, puberty would inevitably be sufficient reason for 
defloration, and defloration sufficient reason for a party. ("A daughter's 
hope and a mother's prayer." And a delight for her friends who, seeing the 
two lovers excited and making love would be aroused and sexy too.) Peer 
support, or pressure, and maternal delight too, and the absence of any shame 
or other hindrance, would see to that. To be "released from hymen bondage is 
the greatest thing that ever happened to me" is how Older Girl would put it. 
"Aren't we lucky to live in an environment where having a penis in your 
mouth and semen spilling out of it is something to be proud of and not 
debauchery." Indeed, soon after I moved to Mom's Friend's House I found -- 
because of the relative lack of privacy and the openness of the culture -- 
that much of the time when I would have a boy's penis in my mouth I was 
being watched. What girls and boys were watching for of course would be the 
signs of semen, drops of it, or a trickle, dribbling down the penis to show 
that ejaculation had happened and that the girl has received Communion. A 
vignette:
http://www.angelfire.com/co4/cobil/trkl.html
Likewise, when a boy was kissing your vagina, you would be likely to spread 
your legs and position yourself in such a way that others could see and 
admire your vagina as your excitement mounted.

Those watching would be mostly our peers. But also -- shyly, even furtively, 
briefly and usually from a distance pre-pubescent boys and girls, giggling 
and tittering perhaps, but learning too. And, often, very often, by adult 
visitors, parents or just friends within Mom's Friend's circle, wanting to 
reassure themselves that their offspring were safe and happy. It was a 
delightful tease for me and other girls to show off our bodies, sometimes 
even to men to whom we were physically unavailable. Mom's Friend made a 
reasonable effort to keep a gender balance within all age groups: but the 
facts that most of her friends were women from the CoG and similar 
backgrounds, and that adult men tended to be more demanding sexually than 
women probably canceled each other out for the adults. The influence of the 
"teen feminist cabal" (who ran the parties and dances and, for what it's 
worth also ruled the "coming out parties" where a girl could celebrate her 
defloration) and the requirement that a male guest at a nude dance party had 
to be sponsored if he didn't bring along a sister or female cousin or other 
girl, and a few other tricks kept the peace among the adolescents. For the 
pubescents one counted on the mother, since she invariably was the 
chauffeur, and she would almost certainly be a "friend of Mom's Friend".

(When I relate this to trusted acquaintances from outside our circle I get 
disbelief that any mother would be eager to show off her changeling 
daughter's or son's naked bodies and solicit their seduction. Such people 
simply have no understanding of the strength of belief fostered by the CoG 
and by other cults -- a belief that survived the passing of Moses David and 
the crisis within the CoG because of its basic validity. But, as we now 
know, it can only be safe within a closed circle, a controlled environment, 
parentally (or peer) supervised. A limited population of partners who can be 
trusted not to have unprotected sex outside the group.

(The bond fostered by family sexual openness is so strong that I have seen 
three generations enjoying romance, passion and, indeed, sex in each others' 
company. Just as, when the opportunity happens, my boyfriend and I freely 
disrobe and fondle each other and I look over at Mom to see if she has 
noticed his penis going erect and my looking for a delicious drop of seminal 
fluid. Of course his penis will wind up in my mouth and his tongue in my 
vagina with Mom looking on. She's told me that she can almost taste the 
semen spurting into me and she feels so good for me. So I want her to see my 
vagina too, and I wait for his penis to get hard again and I'll position 
myself so that she can see it entering me. (We can't do any of that in front 
of his parents, more's the pity.) Having others appreciate your orgasm, your 
display of semen, doubles the enjoyment: as I've often said, it's like the 
old question of a tree falling in the forest with no one to hear it: 
ejaculation becomes spectacular if it's on show, semen leaking from your 
mouth; penis grandly pressing itself into wet vagina with the girl sighing 
as with exhaustion from romance and delight.

(It is, of course a fiction that girls do not, innately, love the sensation 
of semen rushing into their mouths. But having been conditioned to think 
it's disgusting, having been told it's demeaning, and having allowed men to 
get crude and obscene satisfaction over purporting to "humiliate" girls by 
ejaculating into their mouths, a myth has taken hold. The real obscenity is 
the failure of men to give first priority to girls' orgasms and not their 
own. I never met a girl who, once introduced to mutual oral sex -- 
preferably at age 13 or 14 at the latest -- didn't find it fabulous. There 
probably are girls who can't get an orgasm that way, but I've never had one 
say so to me. When I have brought over to a girl the "present" of a new boy 
in his underpants, and she pulls down his pants and sees his penis and gets 
excited over it and fondles and kisses it and puts it in her mouth -- and 
when it spurts out, consumes and loves his semen -- it's with the knowledge 
of what will happen next. That right away when she spreads her legs and 
exposes her vagina to him the boy will make love to her clitoris with his 
tongue, and tease and taste her vagina and bring her to climax. And they 
will hug and caress and have a lovely day. To see her mouth overflow with 
semen is to see her in communion with the divine, enjoying the DNA carried 
down from a million generations of humanity. And tasting romance and passion 
and the whole history of lovemaking.)


Pubescent and even pre-pubescent kids would see this too, of course. More 
than once, a parent passing by with her (or his) child would make us an 
example for a sex-ed lesson. "Your penis will grow, and when it does a girl 
will kiss it, and semen will come out." "You will have breasts, and your 
'gina will be irresistible to boys with nice big penises that give you 
semen." For us, and for that child, virginity was something to be disposed 
of as early as possible. I know that some don't agree -- but mostly those 
are misogynist cultures. Not entirely, as The Wall Street Journal pointed 
out, but they are mostly Arab and Latin American ones.
http://www.angelfire.com/co4/cobil/hymenoplasty.html
As for the boys of 14 or so whose penises were chosen: I'm sure they were 
proud, but it was a pride in helping a girl to grow up and have fun, and not 
the arrogant satisfaction of demeaning or devaluing her. Why else would a 
girl's mom, in the CoG or out of it, take such pleasure in watching the boy 
as he offers he penis to her daughter? As she kisses it and guides it into 
her vagina -- something that she has been programmed to do, to want to do, 
to not be embarrassed to do, since infancy? And later, as she marvels over 
the semen and what it means for her, and for her salvation? I think it's the 
fond memory of that which underlies the special desire of some girls to have 
sex during their periods: to see the bloody penis, to enjoy the mingling of 
mucus and semen and blood. So there is nothing unique about defloration 
except that it is the gateway to adulthood and to the pleasures that puberty 
and adolescence bring.

One of the bits of advice that Mom gave me after we had moved the houseboat 
and seen that there were so many kids about was "Never ignore a young teen 
with a 5- or 5-1/2-inch erection. You can change his life forever and he 
will never forget you for it." And so I could and so I did, occasionally in 
Mom's presence. That advice was even more pertinent at Mom's Friend's House 
where the size and condition of a penis was often open to view. For girls, 
the issues of maturation in terms of sexual capacity and sexual desire are 
subtler. I was happiest when Mom could watch: we believe that orgasm is 
God's love expressing itself directly to us, which we must share by way of 
evangelization ("flirty fishing" -- but bear in mind, the initiative had to 
be ours, never the boy's). That is not to be done in secret: indeed we 
should show off the semen we receive, as semen is both blessing and host for 
Holy Communion. This is why the moment of first orgasm was so special, and 
why, indeed, a pious girl might well feel faint when she experiences her 
first orgasm as equally the first time a boy's semen streams into her. 
Especially with her friends and family there, for example at a defloration 
party or at a nude dance -- although it goes without saying that the drama 
at those two different kinds of events would, itself, be totally different.

This is scarcely different from the swooning of converts, or of the 
faithful, at a revival meeting -- except that for us, the touching of our 
bodies by God is palpable, the pleasure both tangible and repeatable at 
will. Make no mistake: our lifestyle certainly had to be secret from the 
outside world. We brought very few trusted outside friends to our nude 
dances, and most of those girls would have been at least 16; younger ones -- 
like that lovely 13-year-old Big Breasted Girl
http://assm.asstr.org/Year2002/38098 ("I have a vision of putting a bit of 
my saliva on the end of his penis with my fingers and then guiding the penis 
to its destination as he again thrust his lower body downwards. There was an 
electric moment, one of realized anticipation. As the penis entered her 
vagina, the girl moaned slightly.") came as couples, or because they (or, 
likely, their parents) had a connection with the CoG or a similar cult or 
movement for whom sex is central not just to growing up but to existence as 
a human being. We had no, or few, secrets from each other, and the petty 
jealousy and envy of most teen boy-girl relationships just could not occur 
among boys and girls who saw showing off our bodies and flirty fishing 
within our circle as part of a divine order, a missionary obligation, a 
public profession of faith. To reach puberty is to be entrusted specially by 
God with the duty of propagating the faith serially among multiple partners. 
Each act of sex, each ejaculation and reception of semen, is His 
intervention. The pleasure of orgasm is His gift.

(I should interject some science here: in the medical sense a girl's puberty 
can start as early as age 8 and still be "normal"; but puberty is a 
"process" that takes years and usually starts between 8 and 10. For boys it 
is 9 to 11. In the sexual sense that concerns me in this essay, puberty is 
when the penis and vagina are visibly developed to the degree that they are 
capable of normal, enjoyable, recreational sex. That is most often at age 11 
or 12, 13 at the latest. A lot has been written on the subject, much of 
which can be found online. Early puberty is related to early sex (no 
surprise there) and also to a wider variety of sex partners and to 
casualness of sex. But we knew that already. An article in "Evolution and 
Human Behavior", vol. 22, p. 329, 2001) reports that absence of a father in 
the home may precipitate early puberty in girls. The Journal of Adolescent 
Health, vol. 36, Feb. 2005, p. 109 reports the obvious: that teens consider 
oral sex "less risky, more prevalent and more acceptable" than vaginal sex, 
and are happy to do it early on. There was a brief outcry a year or more ago 
when some heath authorities actually recommended oral sex for teens as a 
less-risky alternative to straight sex. (Anyway, "More than half of American 
teenagers aged 15 to 19 say that they have had oral sex, with females and 
males reporting similar levels of experience, according to the most 
comprehensive survey of US sexual habits yet conducted.") There's a 
comprehensive bibliography of the professional literature on pubertal and 
pre-pubertal sexual behavior at
http://www.student.ru.nl/d.f.janssen/GUS/tables/table1.htm and I've archived 
a few newspaper articles at
http://www.angelfire.com/co4/cobil/precociouspub.html .
Lastly, there is a huge difference between "recreational" and "devout" 
sexual intercourse at age 13 or younger, and forced marriage, as in the 
"trainee wives" of certain polygamous Mormons and in indigenous African 
cultures:
http://www.angelfire.com/co4/cobil/afrpuberty.html I leave it to you, Dear 
reader, to draw whatever conclusions you see fit from any or all the 
foregoing, but hopefully you will conclude that any child more than a couple 
of months shy of 12 is too young to have sex: there is no peer group for 
support; there may be physical ability but there is no emotional capacity. 
And we've all heard the awful accounts of that pregnant 5-year-old Peruvian 
girl --
http://www.angelfire.com/co4/cobil/peruvianmother.html
http://www.snopes.com/pregnant/medina.asp ) There is, of course, nothing 
sexy about such medical anomalies, especially when they are coupled with 
child abuse. Drs. Gould and Pyle, in their 1896 compendium of medical 
anomalies, include a photograph of a 5-year old boy with a fully mature 
penis.
http://www.angelfire.com/co4/cobil/precboy.html
The boy looks more confused than mature, although we all know the "naughty 
nanny" stories where child minders, seeing a boy's sexual maturity, have 
seduced them. And indeed that was reportedly quite common at the CoG -- as 
common, anyway, as precocious puberty itself.

For normally-developing girls, and doubtless boys as well, crossing the 
threshold into active sexuality was not a matter of seduction but rather a 
gradual process for which putting penis into vagina was only the last step. 
After all, both with us and in mainstream life many girls and boys have had 
oral sex for months before starting vaginal sex. And beginning regular sex 
as soon as your body changes is natural and normal -- it's mainly a matter 
of access, of opportunity. Think, for example, of the indigenous tribes in 
Brazil, or of African teen "promiscuity" (which I put in quotation marks 
because the only thing wrong with it is the failure to take STD and HIV 
precautions). Sex happens on impulse and by necessity, just as soon as a kid 
has capacity. With families on the periphery of our way of life the 
progression was more likely in fits and starts, opportunistic, related to a 
mother's reaction to a child's masturbation, flirting, play of a sexual 
sort, or perception of sexual frustration. Or, for their girls upon 
insightful observation of sexual urges. In either case, the approach of 
puberty often led mothers (and occasionally fathers) with a CoG or other 
background common to ours to bring their kids over for "de-" or 
"re-programming" or for a "refresher course in interpersonal relations". 
Mom's Friend was always tactful with new arrivals; kids unused to nudity and 
sex at home would be eased into the environment. Parents could take discreet 
pride in their sons' penises, their daughter's vaginas. It all depended upon 
the family environment: teens who had been well prepared by their parents 
for puberty and adolescence would have no inhibitions at all and would 
engage in sex play right away. Sex, like prayer, ought not to depend on 
scheduled timing -- both should be spontaneous, inspired -- and 
inspirational. I think, in this context, of Mom's Friend when she would see 
a kid slouching in the back yard and tell him to "sit up straight, move 
towards the front of your chair, and show off your gorgeous penis to all the 
girls". Sometimes she'd admonish a young boy who seemed mildly embarrassed 
over an erection, telling him it's something he should be proud of, and that 
she really liked his penis and was sure all the girls did too, and pretty 
soon they'd be lining up to kiss it. She'd say something comparable to 
girls, and encourage them to keep their backs straight, their breasts 
forward and their legs spread apart while seated nude. "Let boys see your 
clitoris so they don't forget you have one." The whole point was that if 
children can learn not to be embarrassed by their bodies and its natural 
sexual function, and if they can be instilled with confidence without any 
arrogance, banish false modesty and inhibition and guilt, as soon as they 
have the capacity they can express themselves sexually in a physical way and 
never experience the sexual frustration that most teens go through and some 
never get over, winding up dysfunctional. That was the practical side. The 
theological side I've written about extensively (some might say too much so, 
but that was Moses David's way and I'm afraid I've inherited it via my Mom): 
how attraction and arousal are direct divine intervention, orgasm, 
ejaculation divine message, semen the instrument of Holy Communion. Indeed, 
that's how the vision of families getting together and sharing sex was 
attributed to the biblical admonition "when two or three [couples] are 
gathered together in my name...", at least by the Rev. X, who seemed to 
think that, as a result of his status, his penis was more godly than most. 
But then it seems that he was not the only clergyman to feel that way: there 
is Jimmy Swaggart and plenty of other holy rollers like him, a host of 
Catholic priests and Jewish rabbis, many Hindu priests and doubtless Muslim 
imams too.

There was always, for parents, the pleasure of having friends with whom they 
could be open about their children's sexuality -- friends whose children 
theirs could interrelate and have sexual fun with; friends who would admire 
their kids' growing bodies, and genitalia. (All over the USA, I've found, 
there are single parents and families that get together often -- in groups 
of 2, 3, 4 or more -- raising their children to be comfortable naked and 
intending that they should go through puberty together and engage in free 
sex, as indeed many of the parents did and do. (I've annexed an account of a 
family I came to know where the daughter's defloration was orchestrated that 
way, done by a young boy who'd been groomed to deflower girls with panache:
http://www.angelfire.com/co4/cobil/gsstory.html ) Children are children, 
after all. They are capable of enjoying -- indeed they need to have -- 
sexual release, but in many ways they lack rationality. Parents and mature 
peers can supply that, setting an example and providing guidance, even 
discipline. Instilling respect and self-respect. (I have to laugh when I 
seek those young teens in the public-service "pro-abstention" TV ads. I'm 
sure half of them are having sex; and the other half are missing all the fun 
and following false prophets and they'll be sorry later: you can't get back 
what you missed.) It has to be kept in mind, though, that kids who've 
recently become sexually active are always trying to others of their cohort; 
one aim of teen exhibitionism is to arouse others of the opposite sex who 
are coming of age, and by arousing them make them want to join the circle of 
potential partners. That isn't, however, inconsistent with keeping them safe 
from predators, coercion and from abuse by elderly perverts
http://www.angelfire.com/co4/cobil/glitter.html . In other words: girls and 
boys are encouraged (indeed, we would say duty-bound) to share their bodies 
and exchange bodily fluids in a romantic religious passion. But the sex act 
must be the result of spontaneous desire from within, and mainly from within 
the girl: religion-based flirting. Coercion, unwanted sex, abuse by an older 
person: these are no less rape than if the girl (or boy) were a virgin of 
another faith or of no faith. And, at the same time, recognition that sex 
becomes more refined, more sophisticated with age:
http://geneva.craigslist.org/about/best/wdc/108540455.html (a rant by some 
woman over her lover, whom she calls "Small Penis" -- and then she admits 
she herself has got hardly any breasts) -- yet another reason for 
segregating by age group, for enforcing the "10% rule".

I want to define "respect", which, after all, is the object of countless 
films, plays, stories and jokes. The whole point of acclimatizing boys to 
girls' bodies and needs and behavior and thinking even before they are ready 
for sex is so that when the time comes they are committed to fulfilling 
those needs -- and not just their own. This also was the basis for the 
(sometimes ignored) "24-hour rule" whereby like some Shia Muslim temporary 
marriage a boy and girl were bonded for sex for a short period of time. The 
(pubescent or adolescent) boy couldn't just ejaculate into his partner and 
disappear: he owed her interest and attention and pleasure for the rest of 
the day. Of course if he proved to be boring or she had other things to do, 
that would be the end of it. But in fact, I did a lot of homework together 
with my various sex partners, and we'd go out on quasi-dates just to see 
things or go for a walk, and so on.

Most of our likeminded friends living in the vicinity of Our Town would come 
by with some frequency, at least in summer. Those on the periphery might 
come once a year, or hardly ever. By "periphery" I mean not only physical 
distance but moral doubt: those with an uncertain intellectual commitment to 
adolescent free sex. Yet for them the sight of growing penis or growing 
breasts on a child gives a different perspective, akin in sense to a return 
to religion as one faces a crisis. At its best, the CoG and similar colonies 
offered a rare state of contentedness and an intergenerational understanding 
and peace: parental support at a time of changes in body and personality and 
emotional structure. A mother who is often naked with her children will want 
to parry a son's immature sexual attraction to her. Similarly for a father 
with his daughter. And having been brought up or otherwise come to believe 
themselves in a culture of wholesome adolescent sex such a parent would, as 
the opening quotation says, "revert" to practices like those they'd known at 
the CoG: children initiated by peers (or, less wholesomely, by elders).

It is asking for trouble to bring a boy or a girl up knowing that it is 
proper to display sexuality, erection, masturbation in front of the family 
without then providing access to potential same-age sex partners. (There are 
alternatives, such as subterranean school "sex clubs" and, more 
specifically, "oral sex clubs", and I've written about these; but Mom's 
Friend's answer was safer. Mother knows best.) In truth, mothers and 
fathers, released from stupid and false and perverse religious and social 
constraints and "laws" are as delighted to see teen penis enter teen girl's 
vagina or mouth as any parent is at a confirmation, bat mitzvah, graduation, 
wedding and so on. It's a rite of passage, doing what comes naturally. And 
for the kids, it's just as much a celebration to show off and to be proud 
of: first kiss of a penis, first taste of semen, first knowing smile. First 
vagina, first ejaculation. Abandonment of virginity is the start of personal 
autonomy and liberty: the offspring have joined their elders in a secret 
society consisting all the sexually active people in the rest of the world. 
And a grinning 13-year-old girl with semen on her braces or semen glistening 
on her pubic hair shows off nothing less than proof of the truest sort of 
First Holy Communion, a sacred badge of youthful evangelism.

There were as many permutations of background, family structure and 
lifestyle as there were families in our circle. Some people either lived too 
far away for regular visits, or accepted our beliefs and practices only in 
part or too secretly to risk regular involvement. A few single mothers had 
ambiguous sexuality, or else had been troubled by their CoG or cult 
experience and yet thought that bringing out an offspring's sexuality at a 
young age would avoid such ambiguity and/or troubles. As noted in the 
introduction, this essay relates -- in context -- the story of the return of 
a particular single mother who had drifted towards lesbianism. Either for 
his sake (as we shall assume) or for own her satisfaction she wanted to see 
her son's pubescent penis erect and inside a girl.

That mother had not been part of the CoG; instead she had been part of the 
1960s free-sex movement, and specifically that part of the movement which 
rejected the notion of identifiable paternity: his mother didn't know and 
didn't want to know who his father was. In fact, when she left, or grew out 
of, the movement, she took up with a string of female lovers. While her boy 
was still young she'd spent a number of months at Mom's Friend's House, but 
that was some time before Mom and I had joined it. Her stay entitled her to 
be invited to the annual homecoming reunions, and she came to several. She 
was one of the many mothers who remained in the shadows, largely uninvolved 
in the gossip and in the politics of sex. Her reticence must have had 
something to do with her sexual preference: we encountered gays and lesbians 
from time to time, but aside from enjoying camp culture (didn't I write once 
how much I enjoyed Quentin Crisp's "The Naked Civil Servant", the film and 
the book? And Oscar Wilde and Truman Capote and all those other writers...) 
we had little in common.

With our theological interest in -- some would say theological fixation with 
-- puberty, the mother and her son first came to my notice the year that the 
boy was 12. Though reluctant to disrobe for the pool party, the other boys 
made it more embarrassing for him not to. His penis confirmed his beginning 
of puberty. Under other circumstances and with the slightest sign of 
interest and desire on his part, I or one of the girls would have to seduced 
him then and there. As I've written many times, there is no reason why sex 
shouldn't start at the beginning rather than the end of puberty. ("Why wait 
impatiently for your breasts to grow big when they and you are quite sexy 
enough right now to a boy of your age?" And Mom's Friend would say the same 
to a boy concerned about his penile development. "You can have a great 
orgasm; size doesn't matter for oral sex; one drop of semen in a girl's 
mouth is enough to delight." And, again to the girl: "Just keep your eyes 
wide open and on the penis, make a fuss over semen and enjoy it when it 
spurts out. Act as if all those sperms are making love to you, because they 
are." And more: "Swallow semen gladly, and the boy will love you to bits." 
"Contrary to common misconception", she told the boys several times within 
my hearing, "most girls don't wish to have an avalanche of semen. A 
teaspoonful is quite enough to cover a tongue, to spread on the head of a 
penis, to savor and swallow." Right she was. After listening to her, any 
girl would rather die than spit out semen instead of swallowing it. (It is 
one thing to be happily "drippy" -- to show off semen and how much one 
appreciates it and sees it as communion. It's quite another to reject and 
waste it.) There was non nonsense in her sex-ed lectures, unlike what we had 
at school. She knew very well, as I do, that from the moment a girl's lips 
circle around the head of a virgin boy's penis and has his penis slide into 
her mouth, that girl owns that boy's spirit and soul, forever. Even if they 
never have sex again.)

The B&W (because they're by way of sex-ed (and religious ed) and not with 
prurient purpose) illustrations put together for me by a friend express the 
point well:
tinyurl.com/8ww3p . Sex is at its best when it is a communal social event 
with everybody aroused, when erection and ejaculation are religious as well 
as romantic expressions, and when semen is taken as a holy message. The 
Word, in New Testament terminology. A girl who (as in the bottom-right-hand 
picture or, even more, the left-hand one, second row from the bottom) is 
happy to show off to friends and family around her the semen in her mouth 
has fulfilled those three criteria. She (1) has received semen as Holy 
Communion, (2) through "flirty fishing" she has captivated and evangelized 
her boy, and (3) she has helped propagate the faith to girls younger than 
she: invariably other girls will want to imitate her act and her display. In 
the latter sense, it is because I could see Mom and older girls playing with 
penises and loving it when they ejaculated -- and accepting their semen as a 
blessing -- that I "always knew" that when I reached puberty I would want to 
kiss and cuddle penises, think them lovely and take them in my mouth and 
make them give me semen, all in front of my friends. And the closer I got to 
puberty the more frequently and vividly I would imagine the process that 
would lead up to my having a penis pushing its way into my mouth, 
ejaculating for me. Knowing I would want to do it in the future did not, I 
hasten to add, mean that I wanted to do it right then. Somehow I knew that I 
had to grow up a bit first. Mom had explained to me that "desire" keeps pace 
with our physical development. That a "proper" boy or man would only want to 
put his penis inside your body if you had breasts and pubic hair.

(The growing-up principle is seemingly the same for the boy from among our 
group who expected to enjoy one day giving a girl oral pleasure. Even though 
the picture of the male with his face to a vagina is not so poetic and 
artistic as that of a girl with a penis in her mouth. (As to that, I've been 
handed a photograph to share with you:
http://www.angelfire.com/co4/cobil/hld.html )

For the boy pleasuring a girl the event and its results are more subtle. And 
also, perhaps therefore, one has to try harder to educate a young boy. But, 
Dear Reader, you may recall how, when having sex in the back yard that time 
with the 16-Year-Old Boy, I showed those two toddlers how my vagina was 
structured, and how it could make me happy. Sure enough, 7 or so years 
later, the two remembered and while not yet 12 were enjoying oral sex 
together in front of us, the boy making sure his girl was had her climax 
before he ejaculated into her. When they ran up to Mom and me, naked and 
drippy, it was for us like a missionary who has brought two souls to his 
faith. A couple displaying their after-sex bliss like that is simply the 
most sacred sight imaginable. Their story illustrates the point that for a 
boy to really enjoy kissing and licking a vagina -- and not just to do it 
reluctantly in order to get the girl to accept his penis in her mouth and to 
swallow his semen -- is just a matter of conditioning. And a boy whose 
mother shows her inner labia to him at an early age, who explains how labia 
are like the petals of a flower opening up to beauty, how much pleasure 
vagina and clitoris bring, and who has partners who pleasure her in front of 
him -- such a boy will grow up with a positive attitude, happy when his 
mouth is at a vagina. With an understanding that will make him happy also to 
kiss a vagina after he has ejaculated into it, to share with his partner 
their mingled holy fluids.

(This suggests an expression which, unfortunately, has become crude and 
overused by pornographers. "Creampie" -- which you can Google -- is 
something so primordial and so lovely -- so human -- that every child should 
know it. Even little boys can be taught the significance of a dilated, moist 
vagina, and how the grown penis of an adolescent feels so good -- and makes 
the girl feel good -- as it slides in. Culminating in ejaculation and lovely 
streams of semen to enjoy, semen merging with the girl's own fluids, that 
boy and girl can taste together. There are some examples, albeit commercial 
in nature but for all that less crude than elsewhere on the Web and free of 
charge besides, at
http://www.creampie.com/tour/videoclips.html Political and legal correctness 
make it impossible to view adolescents at fun. Except, perhaps and by 
happenstance in the flesh, being among a group like us.)

To return to the problem of Shy Boy: in addition to his slow start at 
puberty the shy boy was making a slow start at interpersonal relationships 
with girls and he wasn't even trying. After a quick look around, he was not 
paying attention to the nakedness all over nor was he inviting attention to 
himself or his penis. Shy and introverted, we decided he wasn't worth the 
trouble to seduce when there were enough alternative boys about. Not every 
teen should be having sex just because s/he has the capacity: there has to 
be interest, desire, emotional readiness. One who is too apprehensive -- for 
want, I think, of parental conditioning in the months and years preceding 
that first pubic hair -- just has to wait.

That point aside, I never had any hesitation to make love to a penis that I 
thought cute even if I had no long-term interest in its owner. I think of 
all those 12-ish boys I seduced at the houseboat who dearly wanted to see me 
again but whom I turned away after having awakened their libidos, given them 
pride in their penises and confidence in their ability to get girls -- me 
anyway -- to pay attention to them. There has to be a bit of momentary 
romance and passion to go with seduction, something hard to do if the boy 
is, as I said, apprehensive and you can't calm him down first. Especially if 
you have no intellectual or spiritual or future interest in him. And, the 
kid has to want sex: if he doesn't realize yet that he wants it he has to be 
brought to desire and arousal. I wanted each boy to want my body desperately 
enough so that he would take the trouble for proper oral foreplay. Or else 
have enough gratitude after he ejaculated in my mouth that he would want to 
kiss my clitoris forever. I wanted him to think, as I do, that my vagina is 
pretty. Other girls, some of the "vamps" I've described before, could be 
counted on to come on to a virgin boy solely for the pleasure of having his 
virginity. Such girls don't care so much about their own climax as long as 
they can have that particular quirky satisfaction. To some degree I must 
have shared that quirk during my houseboat year, although in my case it was 
more psychological jousting with cute-looking boys -- getting inside their 
heads as much as getting their penises into my mouth. Anyway, this boy, this 
year would not have sex. He could be left alone to read, to watch others at 
sex, to wander about and to chat with his mom. He would surely grow into sex 
(or vice versa) over the winter.

I'm quite sure that mother discussed her boy with Mom's Friend, and they 
would have talked about his penis and his readiness for sex. Why else did 
she visit; the subject of early sex was after all our common thread. Mom's 
Friend would hardly have left unremarked the existence on her territory of a 
boy with his first pubic hairs: she would have wanted to assure his sexual 
education and conditioning. If he had been seen by any of the girls to have 
an erection -- whether out of sexual arousal or otherwise -- she would have 
been told. Indeed, if he had so much as touched his penis in a pleasurable 
way, somebody would have seen and reported it. There were witnesses to 
everything at Mom's Friend's House, privacy would have been hard to come by. 
(There were many positive points to that: it provided a sort of protection 
from exploitation to more vulnerable kids. I was struck by a recent New York 
Times article on webcams and exploitation of loners:
http://www.angelfire.com/co4/cobil/webcam.html
There's no doubt that our sexual openness, without parental guidance and 
protection, could have led to victimization in certain cases -- another good 
reason for discretion and secrecy, the same-age rule and the "closed 
circuit".) If it hadn't been for the hectic atmosphere of an alumni reunion 
Mom's Friend might well have taken charge and directed one of her more 
outgoing girls to sidle up to him and make friends (i.e., physical contact) 
with the boy. It isn't that hard to strike up a casual conversation, press 
your breasts close to a naive boy, make him nervous -- but not so nervous 
that he will resist as you reach out to his penis. I have been there and 
done that for hundreds of boy's "first times". Inviting boys to explore my 
breasts, my vagina; giving them by caress the first hint of how good his 
penis will feel when it's inside my body. Then bringing my face close to it, 
kissing it lightly, licking it around its tip, putting it in my mouth. This 
was my protocol for seducing boys on the houseboat, a protocol that made Mom 
smile if she saw. Now another girl had started, but the boy hadn't responded 
as he was supposed to, and it there hadn't been erection, penis in mouth, 
orgasm and ejaculation.

The following year the shy boy had grown less in stature than I should have 
imagined. Doubtless that was because we were comparing him to his cohort and 
they were the same relative to each other. He had braces on his teeth: 
certainly no impediment to oral sex, I thought, but reason for taking care. 
He was willing enough to undress although he did wait for others to go 
first. I imagined that others would remember him and that all eyes would be 
on his groin, but in fact the other girls were more interested at that point 
in greeting old friends and, in many cases, in displaying their own bodies 
-- i.e., their breasts, although some managed to show off a bit of inner 
labia too -- to best advantage to older boys whose approval meant more to 
them and whose penises they knew to be reliable and responsive. One of the 
vamps and I were the only ones to see Shy Boy's penis displayed for the 
first time in its new 13-year-old maturity. It had indeed grown; it was now 
by my guess, 5-!/2 inches, on target for his age, cute:
http://www.sizesurvey.com/result.html and
http://www.jackinworld.com/library/surveys/survey2.html . Its circumcised 
head was nicely prominent and there was a plentiful bush of fluffy pubic 
hair (had he brushed it?) setting off his wrinkly scrotum: all very 
kissable. His penis was relaxed, and at that moment his testicles nicely 
distinct. (Mom talked a lot about circumcision as allowing the full beauty 
of the penis to be seen; recently she has been adding a "told you so" in 
view of new claims for its health benefits:
http://www.angelfire.com/co4/cobil/circumctrend.html ) Our staring at his 
penis discomfited the boy somewhat. The Vamp now had designs on it and I 
encouraged her, making her promise to make a show of her seduction of him. I 
told her I would have him the next day: a friendly handover. He was too 
confused to notice our deal.

By tradition, sexual touching -- at least public touching -- did not begin 
until the afternoon on an alumni homecoming day. This gave everybody a 
chance (1) to get to Mom's Friend's House and play the (level playing) field 
and (2) to have a proper (barbecue) lunch. Nudity was gradual, anyway: more 
and more topless girls; eventually boys and girls and parents with 
underpants only; finally total nudity, one person at a time tossing off a 
piece of clothing. There was, before noon, a naturist atmosphere: the 
occasional incidental erection, but no sex, just knowing smiles and 
coquettish eye and head movements. Sex was, as always, for the afternoon.

The Vamp would stay close to her target, Shy Boy. As soon as it was 
tactically and socially prudent, she would try to arouse him. And she would 
make sure he was present at the visible arousal of others. She would talk 
about nothing but sex, and remark on how she adored his penis. When, after 
barbecue and sangria, the first penis would find its way into a girl's 
mouth, she would watch his reaction. She pressed her body against his and 
made her interest in his penis overly apparent. Somewhat tactlessly, and I 
thought counterproductively, she asked the boy in front of his mother how 
he'd spent the past year. And when he replied, missing the point, with an 
innocent description of school and sport she corrected him and asked quite 
bluntly: whether he had ever seen his mom have sex, whether he thought the 
inside of her vulva was cute, how often he had erections. He didn't answer, 
and him mom blushed. We never found out for sure. Instead, his mom reminded 
him that she'd been telling him for years that he should not waste his 
libido on masturbation, that his penis deserved better. (That was scarcely 
unique: Mom's Friend tried to predict when a boy might start masturbating 
and to see to it that one of her girls got to his penis first.) And, 
repeating something she must have heard from Mom's Friend, she said that his 
semen was hers, too -- "family property", "divine gift". And she looked over 
at Mom's Friend and asked if her son's penis hadn't grown nicely over the 
past year, wasn't it lovely. "I'd love to see it kissed." Whatever reticence 
there had been the year before was gone now, on the part of Shy Boy as well 
as his mom. But then, I've written often about that mystical relationship 
between a mother and her son's penis. (What mother doesn't secretly want to 
see her son's penis spurting semen into a girl? How many times have I taken 
special care to bring a boy to orgasm, if his mom was watching, solely by 
running my tongue endlessly over and around only the head of his penis so 
that when did ejaculate she would see his semen spurt out? My diaries from 
the period when I was 14-15 take note of all the times when I saw a mother 
or a father watching their kid at oral sex. In a certain sense I was the 
journalist creating my own story when I made a show of playing with a boy's 
penis in front of his mom.)

I deduced that if his mom was practicing lesbian she was now laying claim to 
her son's penis as her own, and that she wanted to see a fountain of semen 
spurting out of it. Her son was very uncomfortable and fidgety at this 
point, and by standing behind the Vamp, he did his best to hide his limp 
penis from our view. And there would not most likely be a "fountain" of 
semen anyway. Maybe a teaspoon (according to the Merck Manual, 1 to 6 ml is 
"normal", quite a broad range), and likely as not we wouldn't see even that. 
Whatever her motivation, I wouldn't categorize her with those fathers who 
brought their sons to Mom's Friend because they worried, dreaded that they 
might be gay and thought that early exposure to sex would "prevent" it or 
else "cure" them. Such fathers tended to give Mom's Friend lavish gifts in 
support of her work, and I'm sure this mom did not. But like some of such 
fathers, she clearly did want to see her son's penis ejaculate into a 
vagina.

Like many of the mothers who were not seeking sex partners for themselves 
his mom was topless but wore a bikini bottom. Such women could be sure of 
being left alone: there were far fewer men than women (ours being a 
quasi-feminist grouping) and it was helpful to know who among the mature 
crowd was in play and who was not. By now every male was completely naked 
and those without partners were wandering among the girls and women trying 
to attract attention, conversation, attraction itself, and sex.

The nervousness of the boy suggested to me that his penis might need some 
care to make erect and to keep that way, at least for the first time. But a 
girl can never be sure of such things. In my year's experience on the 
houseboat there were few cases where I had real trouble getting a boy's 
penis erect, and even fewer where it failed to get stiff once it was in my 
mouth. It's a matter of will, of concentration on his part, of overcoming 
apprehension. Then the penis should get erect almost as soon as it touches 
the girl's tongue. And once a boy had come in my mouth, his erections would 
usually be automatic, Pavlovian, at the approach of my breasts, the 
separation of my legs, the movement of my lips. The main challenge my first 
time with a boy was trying to anticipate just when his ejaculation would 
happen so I'd be ready to use my tongue to direct his semen to the floor of 
my mouth. You have your lips planted firmly against the head of his penis, 
and with each stroke you wonder: will the next make the semen start coming? 
In my case I wanted so much to show it off to him and to m y friends before 
swallowing it. In the end, the wondrous, startled, delighted look on the 
boy's face made the special effort worthwhile.

(Regarding my breasts, those spotlights in the eyes of boys that could 
momentarily paralyze and enslave them for me: Rev. X, Mom's Friend's 
"pastoral consultant", whom I haven't seen in some years, used to call me 
"Belle Poitrine". I knew perfectly well what that means in French but it 
wasn't until I was away at college that I learned it was a pun on the ironic 
label name given to the eponymous leading lady played by Virginia Martin in 
the 1962 Neil Simon musical "Little Me". Rev. X liked big boobs so long as 
they were self-supporting; indeed he liked pressing, uninvited, against 
women and girls from behind, his penis hard against their buttocks and his 
hands covering their nipples. I mentioned in an earlier essay how I 
inexplicably and somewhat regrettably let him put his penis in my vagina on 
the first day that he could do that, off in the sidelines on my 18th 
birthday when the 10% rule went out the window. Uniquely among all the 
hundreds of boys and men I have had sex with over the past 25 years, Rev. X 
never stopped talking, preaching even, from the moment his penis entered my 
vagina until semen gushed out of it: "bouncy breasts are heaven-sent", "you 
must not stop evangelizing for Jesus", "you will be a great fisher of men" 
(referring, I suppose, both to Jesus and to flirty fishing), "remember that 
semen is god's Word", "your lovely nipples speak to me in God's name" and 
then, "His blessing is coming" ... at which point he ejaculated and ceased 
talking.)

It was obvious that he wanted me now to kiss his sticky penis and taste his 
semen because he brought it close to my face. But I didn't and he must have 
sensed my ambivalence because he didn't try to kiss my vagina at that point 
either, something a boy would often do after sex as an act of religious 
devotion as well as sign of respect for the girl. And a means of obliging 
her to reciprocate by taking his spent penis in her mouth. I just walked 
back to my friends, somewhat embarrassed that I'd fallen for the line of 
that self-styled holy-sexy intellectual with the big penis. I was used to 
little kids pretty much ignoring the sex that went on around them so it was 
further disconcerting for me to hear one little girl tittering while she 
asked another whether she had seen Rev. X "stuff his penis into Carol's 
'gina", did she see it "going up and down and squirting". As for the Rev. X, 
he wore on his face something between a smirk and the kind of patronizing 
smile that preachers sometimes have when they finish what they suppose to be 
a terrific and moving sermon. (Well, after all, for Rev. X and for the rest 
of us, isn't sex a form of prayer?) There are not very many sexual liaisons 
that embarrass me to think about so much as that incident with Rev. X. As I 
think about him now, he reminds me of Zoltan Karpathy as much as anybody.

Rev. X's penis wasn't, itself, the cause for embarrassment; in fact it was 
on the big side and with the kind of head I like normally -- rounded rather 
than conical, nicely formed and impressive when erect -- and impressive even 
when just pointing horizontally, straight ahead. It was his attitude, and 
sense of entitlement that bothered me, and a humbug about his constant claim 
that his sex, his semen, was somehow more sacred than others'. I was still 
glad I hadn't allowed him to put his semen-sticky penis into my mouth. I 
complained to Mom's Friend about the incident and she saw to it that Rev. X 
never came on to me again. But he'd had his heart's desire -- my 18-year-old 
vagina -- and I don't suppose he much cared after that. For all his 
philosophical charm, if that's what it was, he understood girl psychology 
even less well than the teen-age boys I was used to. It's annoying when 
males fail to take into consideration our basic differences in urgency, 
frequency, pace and source of attraction and arousal. Among other things. As 
for the Rev. X: I continued to go at least occasionally to his prayer 
meetings. But we were all dressed for such occasions of course, and if young 
children were there he would scarcely mention sex in his sermons. Still, 
even young children got to know his aphorisms, such as "a girl is never so 
holy and lovely as when she has a man's sacred vessel in her mouth". It was 
after his lectures that the tone of the gathering would change from prayer 
to sex. I would avoid him then, him and his dirty-old-man's penis.)

During their 14th year (i.e., while still 13) boys and girls are, on 
average, quite mature enough by any measure -- mentally, emotionally and 
physically -- for the act itself. Not for pregnancy -- which is why parental 
advice and consent and support are so important. In the context of casual 
sex as we knew it, the issues of jealousy and envy and destructive 
competition did not arise. These are issues that under-16s cannot be 
expected handle alone, and in our cases they were dealt with -- avoided -- 
by the involvement of parents and older teens who would all have been 
through that stage: Almost none among our crowd, kids or parents, had 
reached age 15 and still been a virgin. Not a few, like Terrific Girl and 
me, had their first sex at 11, and never had reason to regret it, never 
looked back. These statistics, as it happens, are not shocking even in 
mainstream life.

----------

Now back to our story. Having abandoned Shy Boy for the day, I'd been 
looking about for another. By now I had exchanged glances with a boy 
visiting from afar with father, mother and sister. A typical naturist 
family, I thought from their appearance. I decided to make friends with the 
boy and I put on my best adolescent-sexy demeanor. The boy was shorter than 
I, shorter enough so that I had to overcome a feeling that I was trying to 
seduce a child. As I've written, I've always loved the sight of a small boy 
with a biggish penis: a grown-up infant. I love the constant amazement on 
such boys' faces while their penis is making love or being made love to, the 
inevitable gasp upon orgasm. Their surprise at their accomplishments, 
especially at their being able to please a girl. The curiosity of both over 
whatever semen has been produced.

From this boy's response it seemed to me he was sexually experienced. He 
rapidly had his hands on my body, on my breasts. Remembering the protocol 
(which he may not have known) I told him that was for later, and to 
encourage (in a rather perverse way, I'm afraid) him to wait I ran my hand 
along his penis and kissed him on the mouth, compounding the violation of 
that protocol. His younger sister was too self-assured to be a virgin. She 
would not wait to be asked; she went along eyeing the various boys, 
presumably passing judgment on their smiles and their penises. She later 
said that she was really looking for intelligence and wit but I'm not so 
sure. She anyway admitted that "in the end we both want white stuff to spurt 
out of that little slit and into my body -- why pretend otherwise? The only 
question is whose little slit will it be?"

Their parents seemed proud of those children and their sexuality. Mom told 
me that they were active proponents of CoG philosophy at a point just before 
its most "decadent", when even pre-pubescent children were exposed to and 
involved in sex, with little respect for age. Not in the "innocent" way of 
modern early sex education:  
http://www.angelfire.com/co4/cobil/earlysexed.html  but in a hands-on 
approach, of older partners seducing a child as soon as the child becomes 
aware and interested of his or her sexuality, and whether or not the child's 
genitals have grown. (There is some detail on Moses Berg's evolving 
philosophy on that at http://www.xfamily.org , especially
http://www.xfamily.org/index.php/The_Devil_Hates_Sex
It's all in the "Mo Letters" of instructions that David Berg sent to all his 
disciples; some of them are online, some are quoted in the so-called Ward 
judgment, also online.) Davidito,
http://www.angelfire.com/co4/cobil/nyt_cog.htm
http://xchildrenofgod.xfamily.org/viewtopic.php?t=334
after all, had sex with one of the CoG nannies with his mother looking on. 
If Moses David's foster son could come to enjoy sex despite the hairless, 
"under-5 [inch]" state of his penis, why not all the children of the CoG? Or 
so thought many of those in the movement. Knowing that quite a few boys 
start masturbating as early as age 10, they assumed -- with justification -- 
that it was physically possible for a pre-pubescent boy to have intercourse. 
Whether that is wise is another matter, and Mom and Mom's Friend didn't 
approve so they left. They said they didn't so much object to spontaneous 
imitation by young children, copying or trying to copy sexual acts of adults 
and adolescent elders. And of course they were happy for boys and girls to 
have oral and vaginal sex -- so long as both had at least some pubic hair. 
Usually a kid, unless him- or herself on the threshold of puberty, would 
abandon the effort or at least not repeat it until the arrival of a sign of 
puberty, by which time the rest of us would have noticed and encouraged him 
or her. After all, unlike ordinary nudists we made a point of admiring and 
talking about each other's sex parts, and certainly from puberty on we 
enjoyed and encouraged such critical examination. The argument went that a 
small penis in a small vagina could do not damage, and (which was true, I 
guess; but immature vaginal tissues can bruise and tear if handled 
carelessly) that it was usually a matter of experimental oral sex or tactile 
exploration -- fingers in vagina, fingers around penis which would result. 
From a sex-ed standpoint there is nothing wrong with examining the sex parts 
of a child of the opposite sex: the issue is whether it's right to awaken 
libido and lust in a pre-pubescent child. "Consensual sex" to Mom's Friend 
means consent by someone at or above the age of reason, with full reasoning 
and physical capacity. Someone capable of resisting coercion. And always 
with someone of the same age and of the opposite sex.

Anyway, here was the family, and these kids -- now -- certainly had sexual 
capacity and sexual desire. They seemed confident enough, subtly or 
not-so-subtly displaying penis and breasts, respectively. The girl found a 
partner and came over to where I was with her brother and the two of them 
started asking me about our community and questioning me about particular 
boys and girls. I knew most of them and had had sex with many of the boys, 
so I think I satisfied most of their curiosities. I was always truthful with 
other girls when asked about a particular boy, about his tact, 
consideration, respect or the lack of it; about his personal habits and his 
penis and his tongue. More than most 12/13-year-old girls, even those who 
like this one had substantial breasts with prominent nipples and a bushy, 
unshaven mop of pubic hair that made her look 15, the sister had no 
hesitation to chat in public about penises and semen. She said -- in a 
manner that I thought rather presumptuous since she scarcely knew me -- that 
she loved seeing her brother's penis erect and she looked forward to seeing 
it ejaculating in my mouth. And I shouldn't forget to show his semen to 
everybody before I swallowed it. "I just love to see the look on a boy's 
face when a girl takes his penis into her mouth and makes the first stroke," 
she added gratuitously. Then she started analyzing my body for her brother 
and her partner, commenting on my breasts, telling her brother to feel them 
now, asking when I had lost my virginity (she was satisfied by my answer, at 
age 11 "and good riddance") and making suppositions about my vaginal 
"condition", whatever that is. I began having second thoughts about whether 
I wanted to be involved with this family, kinkier than most I had met at 
Mom's Friend's House. Indeed, complete nuclear families were uncommon: 
mostly we had single moms and a few single dads, and they might or might not 
come with a partner and might or might not have sex in our presence, might 
or might not even disrobe. Many parents were nervous about being thought to 
have become aroused at the sight of youngsters having sex: "child sexual 
abuse" had already become not just a watchword, but a threat -- like the 
threat of being tried as a witch in Salem, Mass. some years ago.

Once a family like that is started on the subject of sex, there is, it 
seems, no letting go. Not each and every member of the family has had an 
opportunity for orgasm, because they're all going to be watching, and 
"kibitzing". The girl was proud of her breasts and also, equally obviously, 
very proud of her ability to make a boy very happy. And to enjoy a climax 
whether with penis or with tongue. Part of her process of arousal seemed to 
be learning all about her partner's sexual history. This was a subject 
almost never raised in mixed company in our group. We took it for granted 
that all the kids and all the parents subscribed to most of Mom's Friend's 
theology and sexual philosophy: arousal is the presence of the holy spirit, 
orgasm and ejaculation represent holy communion, and that semen is the body 
and blood of Christ exchanged as sacred Host between lovers as in prayer. In 
fact, as it would turn out, this family was more secular than that. It 
presented itself as "naturist, fun-loving, sexually-liberated, outdoorsy" 
and thought of sex as part and parcel of its family recreation. While they 
did not say so and I didn't ask, it seemed apparent that the parents were 
swingers and that they might, had the occasion arisen, defied Mom's Friend's 
preference for fidelity between parents. Mom's Friend could hardly insists 
on such a norm, but she did, after all, view free sex among adolescents as a 
precursor for loyal marriage thereafter. She supposed that sexual experience 
and having sex before marriage led to a wiser choice of spouse. She's 
probably right about that, and I certainly think my own standards for 
marriage developed in such a way as to protect me from folly. As for the 
girl, for her to insist that I agree with her that her brother's penis is 
"simply lovely" and "gorgeous when erect" was nothing new. As I've written, 
in our community brothers and sisters were expected to take vicarious 
satisfaction at the sight of a sibling's penis entering a friend's vagina, 
or vice versa. I knew of several naturist families that vacationed together 
in groups with the same ethic that we had, the boys and girls from the 
various families having sex at will and sleeping together, incest being the 
sole taboo.

A brother and sister having sex in tandem with their respective partner, the 
satisfaction of each enhanced by vicarious thrill at the ejaculation 
alongside, was common enough at our nude dance parties. This was only to be 
expected, given that most of our friends had grown up in families where 
nudity and open sexuality were encouraged, where having sex in tandem -- two 
or more couples in parallel, each proceeding at their own pace -- was seen 
to reinforce pleasure and blessing and delight of the others. There was 
always pressure on Mom's Friend to allow brothers -- and occasionally 
fathers -- to attend defloration parties. She would not, however, go that 
far, and while it might have happened once or twice, it was normally not 
done. I think there was some kind of distinction there between "parallel" 
sex and "serial" sex, as well as the basic fact that defloration parties 
were basically a girly event, the boys being there by invitation on command 
to lend their penises for the occasion. (I mentioned this above and I'll 
provide the link again: some time ago I recorded the recollections of a 
girlfriend who's father had orchestrated her defloration -- and who 
therefore couldn't have the party at Mom's Friend's House:
http://www.angelfire.com/co4/cobil/gsstory.html
Her story was made more complicated by her unconventional family life, and 
her younger brother and sister. And her dad had been one of those CoG 
leaders who took advantage of his status, and had preyed on, deflowered 
anyway, as many young virgins as he could. So he wanted to be there when his 
daughters came face to face, so to speak, with their first penis. Just as 
soon as their bodies had developed enough, he wanted his daughters to be 
totally comfortable and casual playing with a penis with him watching, just 
as he and their mother had done for them in the bedroom they all shared.)

Well, brothers weren't there for a defloration itself, but soon enough -- 
the next day most likely -- a brother could and would see his sister playing 
with penises and displaying her inner parts, enjoying ejaculation and making 
a fuss over semen. And now that his sister was initiated, a brother could 
unselfconsciously show off his own erection to her, seduce her friends, get 
her to set him up with girls. And condition her to enjoy watching him go 
from arousal to ejaculation without embarrassment, vicariously enjoying his 
orgasm, even being right next to him when he was making love. I always 
thought the biggest test for sibling solidarity was having sex in tandem, 
each making love to a friend of the other, ejaculations cascading one after 
the other. It was nice when a girl could look to an older brother as easily 
as a sister or girlfriend to talk about her vagina and about any health 
matter concerned with it, or about lubrication, birth control, etc. I don't 
know whether it was going too far, but more than once after I had sex with a 
boy and he was showing off his after-sex penis to his sister or girl cousin, 
he'd invite her to touch the tip of his penis and taste "her own" DNA. They 
usually complied, giggling while they put finger to penis to tongue.

Although Mom's Friend didn't allow brothers at the defloration party, the 
hypocrisy, or at least illogic, of her position was that the reverse 
situation was common. A boy might be invited to deflower his sister's best 
friend. His sister would almost certainly be there with a boy of her own, 
and she would be inches away while her brother's penis plunged into her 
friend. (Anyway, what girl wouldn't swoon on seeing her brother's stiff 
penis sliding into her friend's vagina, and then, as he ejaculated, bits of 
his semen leaking out? One time I saw such a minuet, the sister rushed to 
put her own partner's penis into her mouth, all the time keeping her eyes on 
her brother's. It struck me as odd at the time, but when I studied sexual 
psychology and put together what I know about sibling relationships, it made 
sense: a brother's erection is a threat as well as a comforting sign of 
strength.) That notwithstanding, a certain amount of discretion and decorum 
were usually exercised. On this occasion, however, the sister was sexually 
assertive and even aggressive -- she wouldn't lay off of the subject of sex, 
of penises, of her favorite techniques. About how she liked her lovers to 
make slow strokes over her clitoris, varying the tongue pressure from soft 
to hard. Quite a precocious girl.

(A girl I came to know at one of our nude dances had slept in the same room 
as her brother until well into her teens, so they'd seen each other naked a 
lot. One day when they were all around 12, 13, 14, and her parents were 
away, she got her best friend and her best friend's cousin to compare 
bodies. Somehow, she said, the girls got to playing with the boys' penises 
and it seemed only natural to put them in their mouths. An oral sex club was 
born, and eventually there were a dozen girls and boys involved. There's no 
surprise there: lots of sexually liberal parents pair off boys and girls to 
sleep in the same room, much like that stupid film "The Harrad Experiment" 
(if you didn't see it, don't bother; but you can Google it to find out the 
plot), and the kids almost always wind up having sex as soon as they 
physically can, which was precisely the point.)

At this point, her brother was standing behind me, his hands fondling my 
breasts. His penis having risen to erection, he pulled his hips back just 
enough for it to spring up and it was now pressed against my back. The 
sister looked quizzically at her partner, obviously expecting him to do 
likewise, and he took the hint. It's always fun to see a penis rising in 
response to a girl's invitation. On the other hand, it's not easy for a girl 
to carry on a thoughtful conversation while a boy is in the early stages of 
lovemaking. I suggested we all go to eat. Without any hint of embarrassment 
over the erect state of their penises -- why should there be in a place 
where boys expect their erections to be admired? --, our partners 
accompanied us over to the barbecue table.

Mom's Friend always asserted that the law where we lived did nothing to 
discourage parents from serving their children a small amount of wine at 
dinner time, especially at a religious event. I never looked up the law, so 
I don't know whether that's an urban myth or a true statement of law. In any 
case, I don't think even the most eager prosecutor would have chosen to 
target the sangria -- dilute as it was -- as the issue over which to 
denounce our alumni party. Fortunately Mom's Friend's House was far from any 
prying neighbor, indeed that's why she chose its location when her parents' 
trust fund bought it for her to live in. We didn't really need the buzz of 
sangria to loosen our libidos, but it didn't do any harm. It wasn't so much 
our style to talk about what we'd be doing with and to a penis after lunch 
the way some girls have been known to do (and "Kayla" does in the first of 
her three video clips in the Creampie series linked above). There were, 
however, hints, implications, innuendos; and there was a great deal of open 
admiration. And, that day, comparisons of the circumstances of defloration. 
My story was the most boring since it was an almost accidental event -- a 
tumble with a boy when (as I had thought) neither of us was sexually aroused 
and when I was only 11. Other girls could talk of a party with friends 
alongside watching that first penis surge through her hymen. Or of a group 
of couples having oral sex in tandem, but one couple deciding to go "all the 
way" instead and, again a first penis sliding into her vagina. I asked how 
many girls had a member of her family there watching when it happened; only 
a few did. Many, with the wisdom of hindsight, wished as I did that their 
mother could have watched, supported, encouraged, advised. One girl said 
that her mother, at least, would have warned her what to do with a surging 
rush of semen in her mouth. Her friends had just sat by waiting to enjoy her 
embarrassment when the spurting made her gag and a mess all over. There's 
also the pure pleasure and maternal satisfaction it gives an open-minded mom 
to see her daughter grow up, to see her enjoy her body to the fullest. To 
see her take Holy Communion, with the trace of semen at her vagina 
testifying to her passion and faith.

I had often wondered what it feels like to be on the other side of this 
mating dance -- to be a boy who suddenly discovers that, after all, there is 
a girl wants his penis right here and now. I suppose boys of 10 or 11 or 
even 12 have unrealistic, or idealistic, expectations. Oral sex gives, I 
think, the best possible orgasm to boy or girl and it gives pleasure to 
those watching, too. But it lacks the feature of closeness of bodies and 
sense of completion, wholeness. It involves contortion to touch a breast 
during soixante-neuf or any oral sex -- or even during demonstrative sex 
using "Mom's favorite position" with boy standing between girl's legs. There 
is nothing quite like the sensation of penis finding its way into eager 
vagina with bodies together, in the missionary position. That's why Mom's 
Friend always called oral sex "oral foreplay" -- a precursor to penis in 
vagina whether or not the boy comes in your mouth first.

Lunch was over. My boy stood in front of me, and his penis was ready, stiff. 
I told him I wasn't yet ready, "sit down next to me and let's cuddle". Most 
12- and 13-year-olds don't seem to understand the value and importance of 
foreplay, except maybe for oral foreplay. My boy put his hand on my breasts, 
drew me close and we kissed; I held his stiff penis to encourage him. After 
a few minutes I said it was all right, now he should kneel in front of me 
and kiss my vagina. He seemed to fumble, yet I knew he was experienced. He 
was in too much of a hurry. His sister saw the problem and saw his 
over-stiff penis and she told him to slow down, to "pay attention to her 
clitoris". I watched his tongue move over my sex parts and I gave him 
instructions. It took me a long time, however, before the warmth of climax 
came close. Then, suddenly, it came in waves and everybody around could see 
my ecstasy.

I had my boy lie back on the ground and now his penis was at my mouth. There 
were several kids standing around watching us, watching my tongue flicking 
against the head of his penis. I wanted to torture and tease him to 
exhaustion by just licking the underside of his penis forever until would 
come. But his sister was watching us too, even as her boy was kissing her 
vagina, and she nodded her head as if to tell me to take the penis 
completely in my mouth. (Perhaps she was really signaling to her own boy, 
but that's how I took it.) I don't know why I paid any heed to her, but I 
finally did take the penis into my mouth and my head began bobbing up and 
down, making long strokes with my tongue pressed against the underside of 
the penis. The taste and smell gave me a thrill, almost another orgasm, and 
I slowed down, stroking now with just tongue and lips making contact -- 
touching mainly the head of the penis. I was going more slowly, I think, 
than my boy wanted, but I was in control. I knew he would ejaculate more 
semen this way.

By the time he came his sister was no longer watching us. My mouth filled 
with his semen and I wanted him to see it, to see me swallow it. I wanted 
him to know how important it was to me. I wanted her to see it, too, but 
there was no chance of that. I let a bit dribble onto my breasts and left a 
trickle of semen to dry on my face. She would see that and I was indifferent 
as to whether she would think of it as proof of her brother's joy or a silly 
waste of lovely semen that should be inside my body and not an ornament 
outside.

His sister was in fact off in her own reverie, a dreamy expression on her 
face as she first caressed and then took into her mouth her boy's penis, 
seemingly trying to do me one better. The next time I looked though, I saw 
that penis sliding into her vagina, the boy's hips moving up and down. My 
boy -- her brother -- took his eyes away from my face and watched that penis 
making love to his sister and the movement of his sister's hips in response.

By the time her boy had ejaculated inside the sister, the parents of the two 
kids had come over. The father's penis was erect and the mother grasped it 
possessively. My boy asked his parents if they were going to do 69, and, 
pointing at her, he asked whether his mom would go on top to show off her 
vagina to the kids. It was nice that son and daughter felt free to express 
themselves so frankly, and also that  they could appreciate the beauty of 
what was, after all, their birth canal. They parents didn't, though, do 
mutual but rather sequential oral sex. The mother lay back, legs apart, a 
cushion underneath, showing off her vagina. It looked youthful -- very 
attractive, alluring to any penis. Then the father, licked around it and put 
his tongue inside, making it happy, dilated and wet-pink and penis-ready. 
The boy told me that his mom almost never could get an orgasm without oral 
sex, and that his dad would take forever to ejaculate unless he first had 
his penis in his partner's mouth. Middle age spread, of a different kind. 
Later I asked other kids if they found the sight exciting, arousing; how and 
why they enjoyed seeing it. Few found it "sexy" in the sense of arousing; 
most found it agreeable as a reaffirmation of love, romance, passion and 
existence. (Love, as I have repeatedly said, is hardly a prerequisite for 
pre-marital sex; on the other hand romance and passion are or should be 
essential attributes, conditions precedent, so to speak.)

Once the mom had finished, the dad lay in her place. His penis was so stiff 
that he had to prop it up while the mom's mouth moved up and down over it. 
As one of the advantages of familiarity the woman knew the optimum cadences 
-- first fast, then slower -- the pleasure points, the best depth to make 
her man happiest. Every minute or so she would life her head off the penis 
and examine it, and so her kids and the rest of us could admire it if we 
wanted. Like her daughter, she worked calmly and smilingly, enjoying her 
work. The two exchanged no words, even after the man had ejaculated, some 
semen running out of the corner of his wife's mouth and down his penis. She 
silently pushed the semen up his penis with her finger and sucked it into 
her mouth, swallowing noisily. Then she took her mouth momentarily off the 
penis and I was surprised to see a thick coat of semen left on its head. It 
looked really nice. That is a girl's show-off trick that has been around 
forever: the next step is to suck the semen into your mouth and swallow it. 
The surprise for us was that she had seemingly already swallowed it all. Now 
she put the penis back in your mouth and licked it clean.

These were not religious people; if their exchange of fluids didn't 
represent for them the holy communion it does for us. But there was clearly 
a woman's delight over having given pleasure; and her climax was very real: 
you could see that from the condition of her vagina. She seemed happiest 
though showing off object of her affection and that coating of semen -- 
after all, it was impressive and so was her obvious delight at sucking it 
into her mouth.

I saw now that the daughter and her boy had been fondling each other while 
watching the parents' minuet. They were seated cross-legged in front of each 
other, and he could play with her breasts and she could caress his penis. As 
for the son, he really wasn't doing anything, so transfixed he was by his 
parents' lovemaking. He just stared at their sex parts and gaped when he saw 
the semen go back into his mom's mouth. The parents looked over at their two 
kids and smiled. It was almost as if all four of them had multiple orgasms 
that afternoon, their own and, vicariously, the ones they'd watched.

----------

I dragged my partner over away from his family to see how Shy Boy was doing. 
As I said, I had designs on Shy Boy for the next day and I like a preview of 
a new penis I'll be making love to. Even with all the experience I'd had 
there was always more to learn about sex. My boy and I sat on some folding 
chairs. I noticed that he sat forward and spread his legs apart the way 
Mom's Friend liked her boys to sit, displaying his penis and balls to the 
girls. He obviously wanted to be noticed. Like me, he must have been 
thinking of tomorrow. I felt like telling him that nice as his penis was, 
personality is more important to girls as a criterion than penile 
appearance, even for a one-night (or -day) stand. That he should concentrate 
on chatting up the girls, and they will probably take his penis as they find 
it. (I thought of the misfit, inept boys whom we'd ignored, and who (or 
whose mothers) eventually got the message and left, or stopped visiting.) I 
didn't bother, and besides his penis did looked cute hanging there. From 
time to time it would stir, even get semi-erect. I'd had enough sex for one 
day and I would have refused if he'd asked for another round of sex, but he 
didn't. As far as I was concerned, the boy was history and I was already 
thinking with some anticipated excitement and curiosity of tomorrow's penis. 
Perhaps like some boys he thought that merely having an erection entitled 
him to put his penis inside me anytime and that I'd invite just him to get 
on top of me. True or not and justifiably or not I started to think less of 
him and his kinky family. Where a moment before his middle-aged parents 
having sloppy center-ring sex instead of discreet, if visible, sex in the 
margins or shadows had seemed morally reaffirming and artistically 
delightful, now it seemed an odd imposition. They weren't, after all, part 
of our family like Mom's Friend and her partner, having sex in front of us 
by way of celebration because their daughters asked them to. They were 
strangers really.

The predatory Vamp, as I shall call her, was ministering to the Shy Boy's 
penis, trying to make it stiff enough to go easily and strongly into her 
vagina. He was lying back on a beach towel and she was kneeling between his 
legs, holding his penis by its base and licking it all over, and especially 
around its tip, then flicking her tongue at it. I don't know how long this 
had been going on, but it seems they probably started after watching the 
other kids at sex for a while to build up the boy's courage, libido and 
confidence. The girl now decided to have her boy take time out, and to have 
him bring her to climax. They changed places, she spread her legs wide, her 
knees bent, and invited him to kiss and lick her vagina. He went at it 
rather wildly, his limp penis moving to and fro in time to his tongue and 
facial movement. I couldn't tell if he enjoyed what he was doing or not. The 
Vamp kept quiet and said nothing even as orgasm approached: she just watched 
his tongue moving over her sex parts. He kept it up until at last the girl 
quietly announced that she had come. They traded places again and she 
resumed working on his penis. It couldn't have been 3 or 4 minutes before he 
began to grunt and the girl said she had tasted semen "but not much". She 
then tried to stuff his penis into her vagina. The funny thing is that the 
erection he could barely achieve before he had ejaculated came to him, sort 
of, now. A half-erection anyway: enough so that the Vamp could put his penis 
into her vagina and we could watch him making at first tentative, and then 
aggressive, strokes. But within a couple of minutes his penis fell out of 
her vagina and the show, such as it was, was over. I knew I could do better 
with Shy Boy's penis. The next day it would be mine.

But not completely. Sex was never our sole preoccupation, even if it's what 
I mostly write about. Traditionally, those who stay over Saturday night on 
an alumni weekend (or who return, if they live nearby) go hiking in the 
hills Sunday morning. I'd like to say that we have philosophical chats and 
recite romantic poetry, but the fact is that our philosophy and theology 
seem to be exhausted in our romance, linked as that is to our religious 
beliefs (or affectations, as the case may be). We would have a picnic in the 
fields, come home, and then have couple of hours for lovemaking and 
goodbyes. Sad to say, a lot of the kids chose to go the mall instead of 
hiking. They could have gone to their own mall at home; malls are all alike 
and Main Street has been cloned all over America. And, for all I know, all 
over the world. They say that today every town in England has all the same 
shops. Only it's "Asda" instead of "Wal-Mart". Boring. Maybe it would have 
been different if I'd had a lot of money; but Mom never made much and if it 
hadn't been for Mom's Friend's help we wouldn't have lived as well as we 
did, I wouldn't have been able to go to college. So I was used to frugal 
living and cheap sources of entertainment. And, hey, isn't sex one of those 
cheap kinds of fun?)

We got home. Wit, repartee, flirting had made us ready. Few of us had worn 
any underwear anyway, or at most thongs (I'm not sure they called them 
"thongs" back then, but they certainly were thong-like). Skimpy shorts and 
skimpier tops. I don't even remember the circumstances of Shy Boy and I 
becoming nude, and we were in a sea of nudity. His penis was erect at first 
instance, and right he wanted to put it in my vagina. Clearly he hadn't had 
proper sex education, never mind experience. I had to explain that I'd never 
get a proper orgasm that way, and anyway my vagina probably wouldn't be 
lubricated enough yet. Actually, his not-yet-fully-grown penis would 
probably have fit in all right. Oral foreplay was part and parcel of our 
sex. There was, actually, a conundrum: if he put his penis into my vagina 
dry the way it was he'd probably have enough friction to come to ejaculation 
quickly. Because of its small size it probably wouldn't hurt but I would 
feel nothing. On the other hand, if he got me ready by kissing and licking 
my vagina as he needed to do if I was to get a climax, his penis would be 
too loose in my vagina for him to have optimal pleasure. The solution would 
be for me to bring his penis near to ejaculation with my mouth, and then for 
us to have regular sex. That was what I wanted to do.

I lay back and spread my legs, separated my labia with my fingers and 
watched as Shy Boy's moved close and started exploring the inside of my 
vagina with his tongue. As long as he hasn't been wrongly conditioned to 
think a vagina "dirty" any boy can learn within a few minutes to be great at 
oral sex. (That's why it's so important to allow a boy to see his mom's and 
his sisters' and family friends' vaginas from an early age, and to see how a 
penis fits inside, how penis or tongue gives them joy.) Shy Boy had now had 
plenty of time to watch others and yesterday he'd tried it out on the Vamp. 
I gave him instructions from time to time, reminding him to give proper 
attention to my clitoris. After he had been doing this a while (10 minutes? 
15?) and brought me to the cusp of climax we changed places. I took his 
penis in my mouth. In those days I really loved to play with pubescent 
penises; today I think they're nice to see from a distance and in the mouths 
of girls their own age. Those days I would try to imagine a penis growing 
even as I played with it with my lips and tongue. (You may remember, Dear 
Reader, that boy I arranged to have oral sex with every month for a year, 
measuring his penis while it grew through puberty.) Every so often I would 
take this penis out of my mouth, kiss its tip, run my tongue over its slit 
to check for any seminal fluid, examine it. I held his balls in the palm of 
one hand and I watched his eyes.

When I sensed his orgasm might be coming on I stopped and lay back, pulling 
him on top of me. Then there was a mutual fumble to get his penis into my 
vagina. It was quite stiff enough and once properly aimed it slipped right 
in and it felt good. He was completing my climax even as he struggled to 
reach his own, to catch again the train of concentration and excitement, to 
get past that point of no return so he could relax and just enjoy 
ejaculating. Today was his second and final practice lesson. I wondered, 
though, how he would find partners if not through his parents' network or by 
visiting us. And he was really too young for our nude dances: a girl of 13, 
or sometimes even 12, could perhaps attend and make sense of it and not be 
too juvenile. Many girls are quite developed and emotionally quite mature at 
that age. But boys rarely are; and as to boys the source of sexual 
attraction for girls is a mature or maturing penis, yes, but also a certain 
maturity in physique and commandment of demeanor. Of stature, I would say: 
and of course many or most pubescent and adolescent boys are shorter than 
girls of their cohort. A girl of 11 who wants to have sex has trouble 
finding an appropriate partner within 10% of her age. We had some boys whose 
penises had grown enough before age 12, but there were not many such.

Shy Boy's penis was now out of my vagina, exhausted. And now his mom was 
standing nearby, nodding approvingly. Only at alumni picnics would so many 
parents be about and watching. (I thought again: was this lesbian mother 
expressing her masculine side through her son's penis?) But at the same 
time, she was urging him to think about getting dressed and going home. I 
asked her what he was going to do for partners; she gave a mumbled answer. I 
didn't see him for another year and then he said it was only by accident 
that he found a girl his age at school to target for sex, that later he 
found a secret society and that he was handed from girl to girl. How many? 
"A few." If he was telling the truth, as I assume he was, it just shows that 
everywhere there are subcultures where adolescents can and do have early 
sex. With or without parental consent. That next year, Shy Boy's penis was 
masterly. And Shy Boy was no longer shy. His penis was, if not a Washington 
Monument, big enough for the purpose intended. Seeing his new confidence and 
panache -- and the impressive display his testicles made -- I wanted to 
nominate him to be the lead boy at a defloration party. I thought he would 
look grand strutting in with an erection, presenting his penis to the girl 
to kiss, kissing her vagina, looking about at the faces of friends and 
family gathered there, and then plunging his penis through her hymen. That 
didn't work out, but what I was able to do was to bring him as a "present" 
to a (then) 13-year-old girl who was sitting alone reading. For this he had 
to put his underpants back on.

(A rule came into force around 1995 that kids from far away who were having 
sex elsewhere had to use condoms. It wasn't enforced for young adolescents, 
and older ones sometimes just had oral sex, for which the rule wasn't 
enforceable. Perhaps we were just lucky, but nobody every got ill. The ones 
whom it was strictly enforced against were the over-18s, who were too mobile 
to restrict in terms of partners and too untrustworthy anyway.)

The custom for this charade would be to escort a boy wearing nothing but 
briefs over to a girl who might be dressed, topless or nude. The "surprise 
present" would be the boy's penis, which she would have to unwrap and then 
of course kiss and make love to. The girl was watching TV; she, but had 
nothing on except a T shirt and scanty panties. Suddenly there was a pair of 
bulging briefs in front of her face. She looked up at the owner of her 
present, pulled down his pants and smiled at the sight of the penis, now 
half-erect and pointing right at her mouth. She opened her mouth and began 
to suck on it like a lollipop. The expressions on both their faces was 
precious. The boy pulled up her T shirt to expose her breasts: for that she 
had to let his penis pop out of her mouth. The boy got so excited at the 
sight of her body that he just left his penis waving stiffly in the air 
while he removed her panties and her socks and fondled and kissed every part 
of her. The two of them made love finally, but by the time his penis slid 
into her vagina the rest of us were so totally taken up by a need for sex 
that there was a dash to sort ourselves out in couples. There was, 
inevitably, at least one boy lacking, one girl who would have to wait for a 
partner to be fetched. Even at our nude dances it was hard to assure gender 
balance: but for those we generally had a girl and boy "on call" in case 
needed, with the promise of "special favor" the next day if not.

I saw Shy Boy from time to time over the next few years, and each time his 
penis seemed grander, the boy more self-assured. I got him to accompany me 
to a nude dance once, and in the atmosphere of nighttime romance and 
sexuality his penis stood out. I was able to make a show of having his semen 
in my mouth, and keeping it there all the time he made love to my vagina 
with his mouth. Just when I reached orgasm I swallowed his semen as a 
special blessing. Then we lay on the floor so he could put his penis, erect, 
into my vagina for lovely strokes and togetherness. I always valued a boy 
with the stamina for vaginal sex so soon after having ejaculated in my 
mouth. The younger a boy is the more likely it is that he can do it without 
waiting long, or at all, for it to regenerate.

Meanwhile, others around us were having orgasms too and it was a sacred 
atmosphere. I wanted to play with Shy Boy's penis forever after that: the 
mingling of our fluids was so heavenly. He caressed my body; and then we 
started dancing again, looking over each other's shoulder sometimes to see 
other couples at joy. It was one of many of my thousand and one nights to 
remember. I invited Shy Boy to my Sweet 16 party, where I imagined having a 
dozen boys naked, all with erections, teasing them and finally choosing one 
and leaving the rest to the other girls. But he couldn't come and anyway Mom 
told me I shouldn't have that sort of game: that I should arouse one boy and 
choose him, or choose one boy and then make his penis erect, but not 
"interfere with" other girls' boys of the day. I didn't, and still don't, 
see the problem; but that just shows the tortured nature of all religious 
and most ethical reasoning. I suppose parental rules are, like the law 
generally, not intended to do justice in any objective way but rather just 
to keep the peace. (So, when they say that justice, like ejaculation, (or is 
it the other way 'round?) must be done and seen to be done, are they being 
hypocrites?) "Revealed" religions have an even worse time rationalizing:
http://tinyurl.com/733sc (Islam's problem). So sometimes they just prohibit 
sex:
http://www.yoatzot.org/article/17 .

Our rejection of "revealed" rules doesn't mean that we are without 
inconsistencies and anomalies in our beliefs -- but at least our beliefs 
aren't frozen in time, frozen for a thousand years (think of Islam's 
"itjihad", some of the Pope's stupider immutable enunciations, and the 
prehistoric habits of the orthodox of many religions, especially the Jews 
(although that said, Jews I've known have the nicest penises, although they 
were scarcely "orthodox" and I have no idea who circumcised them)). An 
example is our philosophy, or theology, on masturbation. As much as we 
appreciate personal autonomy and argue for the maximization of sexual 
pleasure, this is overridden by the Biblical command of not wasting semen; 
that semen belongs to God and to woman. Boys, it is to be hoped, learn to 
store up both libido and semen and to cultivate respect for women and their 
vaginas and their needs. I like nothing better, after all, than to approach 
a boy who has not had an orgasm for a long time and to tease and delight him 
and to have him tease and delight me with his mouth and his penis until his 
semen overflows. There is always a risk that he will come too quickly, but 
if I'm aware of that risk I know how to deal with it, how to slow him down. 
All of that makes a particularly good show when others are around, and, in 
the olden days, a good lesson for the pubescent crowd. And even for the 
occasional small child just learning what her future holds for her: just as 
Mom would show me her mouth and her vagina filled with semen, I would do the 
same. And I look forward to any children of mine having a like familiarity 
with my body and its sexuality and to having them share the sight of their 
bodies: concupiscence, sexual joy, semen... Remember the 12-year-olds 
holding hands, running over to Mom and to me to show me that sticky vagina 
and that cute sticky stiff penis? A child's first sexual joy is really holy. 
Those sanctimonious hypocrites who attacked Moses David for his position on 
that point caused their own tragedies to the extent that their children were 
left dysfunctional, relationally inept and sexually inadequate, and turned 
to drugs. Theirs are not even religious rules but contrived social and legal 
ones, contrived as a matter of controlling and dominating women and 
children. Each time a Jimmy Swaggart or a Scooter Libby or a Tom Delay falls 
it is a time for joy, a victory for "freedom" of the real kind, not the 
dictatorial, 1984-kind which they would enslave others. It's true that kids 
need protection from predators and protection, advice and care in their sex 
lives. The solution to that is the abandonment of false modesty, inhibition, 
jealousy and shame, and the recognition that sex is a social act that should 
be shared with others -- never secret, never hidden from friends, siblings, 
parents. For us, the act of penis entering vagina is a primordial human act 
for all ages and for the ages. It is something all of us are, or should be, 
eager to see, to share, to do -- in the presence of likeminded couples.

----------

A final comment: Alumni(-ae) homecoming picnics are considerably tamer these 
days than they used to be. Partly because Mom's Friend's cohort is aging and 
partly because of the fear of increased public vigilance. If there is 
near-universal toplessness at the parties, there is less total nudity -- and 
far less sex than I remember from my adolescence. And certainly less 
show(wo)manship. But then there are fewer people attending, and among them 
are still fewer young people. Our Town, like many American cities and towns, 
is losing its youth to the Capital City and to other cities where there are 
jobs and a future. I know -- and have discussed in prior essays -- that 
parent-inspired youthful sexual liberalism exists there too: but with 
secrecy and within close-knit circles. I don't, or don't yet, know who are 
the heirs to Moses David's credo of sex as religion and the Devil as its 
opponent. Among them must be Rev. Mary's church (which I wrote about) where 
the youth club is a sex club; but such institutions are rare. More common 
are marginal sex-obsessed cults which are really excuses for church leaders 
to abuse women and girls: Jim Jones's Jonestown, Colorado City's polygamous 
Mormons, and a commune-church that a reader described to me about where the 
pastor routinely deflowered the girls (well, the Hindu priests do that in 
India, don't they?) and his wife the boys when they reached age 14.
http://tinyurl.com/9vo9s
Mom's Friend really had a positive influence on her kids; it's a pity that 
mainstream professionals and theologians dare not study such communities in 
a positive way. Yet, as I've written, sex sells and commercial interests 
rule over politics. We may be approaching Mom's Friend's ideal not 
philosophically or medically or sociologically, but commercially! In past 
essays I linked to newspaper articles that have highlighted school-centered 
"secret sex societies" where nudity and oral sex and exchanging partners are 
the raisons-d'etre. Inspired by what? By the easy availability on the 
Internet of information and pictures, and by the advertising of sex on TV 
and in films. What irony that is! And how unstoppable.

I should add one more comment: the reason why I have seen fit to spend so 
much time describing and discussing pubescent and adolescent boys and girls 
at Mom's Friend's House as they discovered sex is quite simply that it is 
between the ages of, say, 11 and 14 or 15 that families are relevant to 
their learning and enjoyment of sex. About the time that a kid learns to 
drive, s/he begins to take sex for granted. That's a pity: sex should never 
be taken for granted, if for no reason other than that there are so many 
lonely, sexually dysfunctional adults out there who could have benefited 
from parental guidance and introductions when they were young. But that's 
where we are.


Love,
Carol


Most of my prior autobiographical essays on my sexual learning and 
observations, based on my childhood diaries, are archived or linked at 
http://www.angelfire.com/co4/cobil
I have greatly appreciated comments from readers, especially those who share 
a CoG heritage. That I am unable to reply does not mean I don't find 
comments lovely and helpful. Several of my essays have been inspired by 
letters and queries from readers. Those who have expressed concern about 
Mom's health and well-being have been particularly appreciated. She has now 
become eligible for Medicare, so her medical bills are more or less under 
control. The Blond-Haired Boy and I are still together, and his penis is as 
darling as it was when I first had it in my mouth on the houseboat more than 
13 years ago! And Mom loves it still when I let some semen trickle down my 
cheek, even if, or perhaps especially because, her own sex life is behind 
her. I have promised her I shall raise my kids the way she raised me, only 
better because we won't have the financial worries she did. They will know, 
from the earliest age, what their penis or vagina is destined for, and how 
and why semen spurts out of the penis when it is kissed by a mouth or a 
vagina. And what semen looks and feels like, and how I love to receive it 
beause it is sacred and because it is the product of passion. (Sorry, 
Stanley Green, you were wrong:
http://ourworld.compuserve.com/homepages/pete_hall_uk/green.htm
also
http://www.angelfire.com/co4/cobil/stanleygreen.html
and
http://www.everything2.com/index.pl?node_id=1528657
I would have liked to meet Stanley, although it's wildly improbable that I 
could have since he died about ten years before I went to London for the 
first time. And I suspect his mind was made up, his sexual repression 
entrenched. Because he hadn't enjoyed our kind of growing up.)

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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